Ideas on Mexico

From a distance, nostalgia comes easy. Today I want to share three ideas that have been on my mind for months. The first: the importance of diversity and acceptance in Mexican society. Then, Mexico's traditional and historical international neutrality. Finally, some reflections on violence in Mexico.

We begin with the importance of accepting difference. For me, the story starts with my own understanding of my social context. From an early age, I had the opportunity to study at a bilingual school, sometimes to my father's disappointment, as he always wanted me to be more Francophile than Anglophile. Incidentally, both my mother and father have always been firm admirers of France and its culture. From them I inherited a taste for questioning everything and speaking up when something does not sit right with me. Yet my Anglo-Saxon education gave me the tools to understand the complex frameworks built after the Bretton Woods agreements.

Mexico, a rich country, a dynamic country, full of hope and above all endowed with enormous cultural diversity, both pre-Hispanic and post-Hispanic, struggles to find its place in a globalized world. While we are economically one of the 20 most successful countries in the world, Mexico suffers from a love of the foreign while distrusting its main partner and perhaps the single largest driver of the country's economic development in recent decades: the United States. I know it is controversial to give North American economic integration its full due, but denying it does little to help us understand where we stand or how to use the tools at our disposal.

Mexico's cultural diversity stands in stark contrast to its notable economic poverty. Our country suffers from deep poverty, beyond the one-dimensional measure of living on a fixed amount of money per day. Economically, we are mostly car manufacturers, now producing some electric vehicles for the world's wealthiest consumers, with little appreciation for the role hydrocarbons play in the energy mix when it comes to equity. In other words, our country is culturally rich yet economically undiversified: we are, in the main, mono-exporters. Moreover, Mexico lacks a galvanizing dream, an aspiration for a different future. That dream has shrunk to simply hoping that those who govern us will stop abusing the country. It is not a trivial aspiration, but it is a mediocre one for a country as rich, diverse, and prosperous as ours.

Internationally, we possess an extraordinary capacity for global dialogue, one explained in large part by our need to assert ourselves despite our powerful neighbor. Yet our country fails to come to terms with the responsibilities of a middle power. We have no global strategic vision of what we want to advance. President AMLO may be right that we first need clarity on what we want domestically before we can project it outward. Even so, our neutrality in the face of so many global abuses can only be explained by our historical lack of independence and constant intervention by imperial powers, compounded by the newer "democracy" next door. I know some will disagree, yet I have heard this same reasoning repeated dozens of times among dozens of diplomats. When I hear Latin American diplomats talk about Mexico, it sounds as if they are echoing the very thinking we in Mexico apply to the United States. Taking sides is hard; it is woven into our history. We would have to ignore the nineteenth century entirely, though I ask: is it wise to keep shaping our foreign policy around visions more than 150 years old? I do not think so.

Finally, I am grateful never to have lived through an armed conflict. While Mexico is often described as the most violent country in the world, I find that characterization debatable. We do not live under aerial bombardment or face severed food supply chains. Although death stalks our cities, I would argue that there are still places within the country not yet under the full control of organized crime. Yes, it represents a parallel state within Mexico, but we continue to fight to reclaim the rule of law.

I have heard from Syrian and Ukrainian refugees about the tragedies they endure simply to survive. Migration reported in a newspaper is a statistic, an abstraction, not a human life. Having lost the people you love, more than anything you possessed, because of a conflict between those who seek to control others, changes how these people see the world and what they value. I find it very difficult to construct any mental framework that defends the invasion of countries and the interventions that destroy communities. I hear many who believe it is necessary to fight in order to change things, and that the blood shed is part of a process of transformation. Others tell me it is preferable to surrender and be subjugated rather than lose the people you love. Both positions carry their complexities; in the end, on either side, human suffering is present.

In Mexico, it seems to me that all three of these dynamics are unfolding at once. We are engaged in a struggle over diversity, and polarization is not the product of any one person but of a society that has not been able to bridge its differences and find what it holds in common. A country whose foreign policy also reveals the gap between those who govern and those who are governed. It reminds me of a phrase from my mentor Sam Pitroda: "We live in the twenty-first century with nineteenth-century institutions." As time passes, I realize that my country needs a commitment to a new dream, an honest aspiration about who we are and what we want. To get there, we will need to shed the residue of an outdated and resentful world.

Frequently Asked Questions

What is Mexico's main economic challenge according to this analysis?

Despite ranking among the world's top 20 economies, Mexico suffers from a lack of diversification. The country functions primarily as a mono-exporter, largely of automobiles, without leveraging its extraordinary cultural and natural resources into broader economic activity.

Why does the author question Mexico's traditional foreign-policy neutrality?

The author argues that Mexico's neutrality toward global abuses is rooted in nineteenth-century experiences of imperial intervention. He questions whether that 150-year-old framework remains an appropriate guide for a country that today carries middle-power responsibilities.

How does the author compare violence in Mexico to armed conflict elsewhere?

While acknowledging that organized crime operates as a parallel state in some territories, the author distinguishes Mexico's situation from conventional armed conflict. There is no aerial bombardment and no systematic disruption of food supply chains, even as insecurity remains severe in many cities.