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      México y la decadencia de la política

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      La política cayó al terreno del freak show en México. El mercado electoral del país es un espectáculo que nada más parece necesitar los personajes rimbombantes de Federico Fellini.Ahí está Lucía Pino, una modelo apodada la Grosera, que promete implantes de senos si la eligen diputada. O Samuel García, un muchacho que dice haber sufrido la mano dura de su padre cuando lo despertaba de madrugada para ir al campo de golf y ahora ha reclutado a roqueros avejentados para que oficien de claque musical de su candidatura a gobernador del estado de Nuevo León. Y luego está el Tinieblas, el luchador de la máscara dorada, otro ejemplo del ridículo normalizado. Su partido, Redes Sociales Progresistas, el mismo que promueve a La Grosera, dice defender los derechos de las minorías, pero cuando le preguntaron cómo integraría a la comunidad LGTBIQ+ a su gobierno en la delegación Venustiano Carranza de Ciudad de México, el Tinieblas no supo qué responder. Después de que le repitieron la pregunta, dijo que protegería a las mujeres.Una panoplia de outsiders —actores, luchadores, cantantes o influencers en las listas de candidatos— se ofrece en las elecciones del 6 de junio en México como alternativa a la omnipotencia del presidente Andrés Manuel López Obrador y a una oposición sospechosa de casi todo. Ese circo prefigura un futuro desastroso para México. El nihilismo, combinado con la dinámica de las redes sociales, está creando un escenario desalentador y degradante. Más que democracia, vodevil electoral.Internet ha permitido la movilización de causas loables como el activismo de justicia racial, pero también, como decía Umberto Eco, le dio una audiencia a idiotas e imbéciles, y al vecino enojado. Su impulso a la rabia social y apatía general podría alimentar un voto suicida: elegir a quien sea con tal de acabar con la clase política tradicional.Estas candidaturas silvestres, posibles en buena medida por las redes —dice mucho que un partido se llame Redes Sociales Progresistas— han banalizado la política cuando más se necesita vigilancia democrática, debates programáticos y planes concretos para resolver los problemas de fondo de México.Claro, si esa oferta electoral está ahí es porque alguien ha sospechado —quizás con certeza— que el absurdo suma votos. No hay nada consolador en eso: México se apresta a definir una elección crítica —que dé la mayoría absoluta a AMLO en el Congreso o introduzca resistencia a su determinación hegemónica— con votantes agobiados de una clase política decadente y una degradación general de la discusión pública. La campaña electoral mexicana, además de sangrienta e insegura (han sido asesinados más de una decena de candidatos) es un programa de televisión de variedades largo y malo. Y mientras la política del show atrae la atención y el morbo, López Obrador avanza sus ataques contra sus críticos y los organismos de control.La mismísima política creó las condiciones para que la antipolítica se apropie de la política. Partidos que por décadas abusaron del poder para entronizar una casta autorrenovable (el PRI), formaciones incapaces de ofrecer un cambio sostenible (el PAN) y opositores que fracasaron en crear una vía progresista (el PRD), lanzaron al electorado hacia Morena, un movimiento personalista creado por López Obrador, quien cree ser un padre fundador.Suele suceder: cuando la oferta electoral tradicional defrauda sin cesar, las sociedades se corren al margen, y hasta 2018, AMLO era el outsider. Pero cuando también falla esa opción limítrofe, la gente puede saltar los límites. Entonces brota el freak show de la Grosera y su oferta de cirugías, golfistas roqueros, luchadores desinformados. Poco se discute de ideas. La conversación gira alrededor de lo estrambótico y febril; estéril para el debate pero productivo para la distracción.El Tinieblas, un luchador que está en la contienda por la alcaldía de la delegación Venustiano Carranza en Ciudad de MéxicoMario Guzman/EPA vía ShutterstockEl nihilismo preinternet se agotaba en las discusiones de los cafés, pero ahora las redes sociales le han dado un amplificador inigualable. No las demonizaré, porque sus costados positivos son significativos, pero Twitter, Facebook e Instagram han facilitado tanto la aparición de figuras escasas de planes y motivadas por los likes como la propagación del ciudadano desencantado, ese elector al que le da igual votar a cualquiera nuevo porque lo viejo está podrido.No es nuevo. En 2001, miles de indignados desafiaron a la clase política en Argentina con su grito “Que se vayan todos”. Pero el fenómeno es todavía más antiguo. En los años cuarenta del siglo pasado, el periodista romano Guglielmo Giannini creó la publicación L’Uomo Qualunque (El hombre común), una usina contra las élites políticas. Su lenguaje era sencillo y su eslogan, un canto al nihilismo: “Abajo todos”. El movimiento que engendró el semanario de Giannini legó un término que se sigue usando, el qualunquismo, que se convirtió en sinónimo de apatía política.La apatía y el enojo siempre buscan un camino y cuando no hay canales, se hará uno. Las candidaturas más o menos espontáneas son buenas para vehiculizar el hartazgo del momento pero no para resolver la gestión de la cosa pública. Candidatos milagreros siempre hubo; hoy son más porque la crisis de representatividad es extendida y son más visibles porque la posibilidad de hacerse oír es ubicua gracias a internet.Es una situación arriesgada. Manejar un Estado requiere burocracias entrenadas y capacidad de generar consensos. El qualunquista no ofrece eso; nada más acabar con lo conocido. Un eslogan, no un plan. Implantes, rocanrol, máscaras vacías.Cacarear en las redes para obtener votos no es difícil, pero ofrecerse como candidato antisistema, ganar y luego decepcionar en el poder por incapacidad o conveniencia —siendo cooptado o absorbido por las viejas dinámicas sistémicas— llevará la desazón social mucho más lejos. Si los candidatos outsiders potencializados por las redes sociales, como la Grosera, el Tinieblas o García, representan ya saltarse los márgenes del sistema, ¿qué queda?: ¿Autócratas francos? ¿Militares? ¿O una vuelta a partidos renovados?México no tiene una salida fácil en la elección de junio. La apatía política y el voto suicida llevados al extremo con el freak show de la política del espectáculo no es la solución a la rabia de los ciudadanos. Es apenas un escalón más para un “que se vayan todos” aún más nocivo.Diego Fonseca (@DiegoFonsecaDF) es escritor y editor. Es director del Seminario Iberoamericano de Periodismo Emprendedor en CIDE-México y maestro de la Fundación Gabo. Voyeur es su libro más reciente. More

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      in US Politics

      Puente: binational, bilingual project aims to cover the border with nuance

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      Editor Bob Moore sits at his desk in El Paso, Texas, and turns up the volume on his Zoom meeting English-language channel, where a simultaneous interpreter helps him understand his Spanish-speaking counterpart, Rocío Gallegos, who also sits at her desk, across the border in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico.It’s Monday, time for another editorial meeting at the first binational, bilingual border journalism project in the US – or maybe anywhere.Called “Puente,” or “bridge”, the newsgathering collaboration consists of seven digital, TV and radio outlets from the area. “We have long talked about El Paso and Ciudad Juárez as being one region,” said Moore, one of the project’s directors. “But this has never been true with journalism.”That has had consequences. “National media covers the border badly, with a distorted view that comes from what it means in the context of current political views,” said Moore, who was an editor at the El Paso Times for 25 years before one too many corporate-driven budget cuts drove him out of newspapers in 2017 and toward non-profit, digital news.With most national and international coverage, Moore said: “We lose the richness and nuance of the border.”The Puente Media Collaborative hopes to change that, and the project, only several months old, may have come about at just the right time, as the subject of immigration has once again centered national and international attention on the region.The idea came about during the pandemic, said Gallegos, when she talked to Moore about Covid restrictions on crossing the border that were stopping her from sending reporters to El Paso. “You can’t cross the border; I can’t either,” she remembers telling him. They began discussing collaborating on reporting.Gallegos had also led Juárez’s main newspaper, El Diario de Juárez, until 2018. She then became director at La Verdad, or The Truth, a digital outlet – mirroring Moore, who launched the website, El Paso Matters, in 2019.Their ideas on joining forces got a boost in October when their project proposal received $300,000 in funding plus technical support from Microsoft, as part of an initiative focused on supporting local journalism that includes outlets in Mississippi’s Delta region, Yakima, Washington, and Fresno, California – and aimed at helping counteract the loss of 2,100 newspapers in the last 15 years.Puente’s journalists recently released their first stories on the impact of Covid on the region, a year into living with the pandemic – including how border restrictions have affected drug trafficking, and what it means to tighten border crossing in a region that normally sees 50,000 people go back and forth for work and other reasons. There was also a story on how the two countries squandered opportunities to face Covid together.Next, Moore said, “we will be looking at immigration – through a different lens than most of the national media”. The newsgathering itself has been different, since reporters have been collaborating on sources and ideas, and gathering information in both languages. While a final decision hasn’t been reached, Moore thinks the upcoming stories on immigration may be written in Spanish, and translated into English.The collaboration has also led to sharing perspectives on how to frame stories. Gallegos pointed to a recent editorial planning meeting on the upcoming immigration stories. Shoe-leather reporting had already been done in both cities. Discussion turned to sending cameras from Channel 26, the local Univision affiliate and Puente partner, to federal government shelters where children who had crossed the border are being kept.“We were sensitive to what they had been through,” Gallegos said, adding that many were indigenous people who spoke neither Spanish nor English. “We wanted to make sure we didn’t victimize or traumatize them once again” with a camera crew, she said. The Mexican journalists “had a better grasp of what their lives are like”, said Moore. The camera crew agreed to approach the assignment with care.Kathleen Staudt, former professor of political science at the University of Texas, El Paso, and author of nine books on the border, said that she hopes the Puente Media Collaborative provides a lens from the other side of the border, since “too often Mexico is portrayed as the ‘other’” in English-language media.”Brenda de Anda-Swann, news director and 22-year veteran at the El Paso ABC affiliate KVIA – and part of Puente – said “the people who are part of this collaborative have worked on the border for a long, long time … We trust each other. This doesn’t feel unfamiliar, while at the same time it is new.”She said that her news station’s participation in the project will give the outlet “some time to sit back, explore how things work, why they’re happening” – without turning attention away from the news of the day, such as a recent dust storm.Working in collaboration with La Verdad “reflects who we are as a community”, she added. “Having newsrooms on both sides of the border is a perfect reflection of the community, on a personal, business and political level.”She hopes to see the project “bridging the communities through storytelling and information”, and that it serves to “provide best practices for other parts of the world”. More

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      in US Politics

      Joe Biden’s southern border challenge: reversing Trumpism

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      The 46th US president took office promising a more welcoming immigration policy. But Republicans are calling a new wave of migrants at the southern border a ‘crisis’ and demanding action. In this episode of Full Story, Washington bureau chief David Smith describes the pressure Biden is under to respond to the issue. Plus, the Guardian’s Nina Lakhani describes what she witnessed on the border in Texas, where migrants are still being detained, and many sent straight back across the border

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      Read Nina Lakhani’s story about her visit to the US-Mexico border in Texas here. More

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      in Elections

      Félix Salgado Macedonio es Morena

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      División, polarización y violencia discursiva, como sucede ahora en México, rara vez son el final del camino, sino el comienzo del descenso a un abismo.El cuasicancelado Michel Foucault decía que el discurso es tanto capaz de esconder sus intenciones políticas —sobre todo cuando proviene del poder— como de fijar significados. De esa manera puede pretenderse ahistórico o científico y con vocación universal cuando es un producto de una época e individuos particulares. O puede decirse no violento cuando, sin mucha máscara, lo es.Bienvenidos a los días la retórica enmascaradora de Andrés Manuel López Obrador y el discurso violento de Félix Salgado Macedonio. Paso a paso, el gobierno de López Obrador ha ido asentando cimientos autoritarios de manera abierta o sutil para lograr que Morena, su movimiento, se consolide como proyecto hegemónico.Tras cuestionar a numerosas instituciones —como el organismo de información y transparencia— estos últimos días AMLO puso la mira en el Instituto Nacional Electoral (INE) justo cuando México entró en la campaña para las elecciones intermedias. El gobierno parece temer que las autoridades electorales sean un escollo en su deseo de obtener una mayoría determinante que permita a AMLO controlar el sexenio, y diseñar su continuidad.Hace días, Félix Salgado Macedonio amenazó con persecuciones y acosó públicamente a los siete consejeros del INE que votaron contra la validez de su candidatura a gobernador del estado de Guerrero. “Si no se reivindican los vamos a hallar”, dijo. Y fue directo sobre el titular del instituto: “¿No le gustaría al pueblo de México saber dónde vive Lorenzo Córdova? […] ¿Cómo está su casita de lámina negra?”.Hubo ataúdes con las imágenes de los consejeros, una corona de flores junto a una imagen de Córdova y una turba reclamando el final del organismo que vela por la legalidad electoral. Con todo el afán provocador, Félix Salgado Macedonio vociferó sus amenazas enfrente de las puertas mismas del INE. La bravuconada no fue circunstancial: él es una muestra desembozada de un proyecto autoritario oculto bajo el poncho del caciquismo paternalista.La violencia debe ser condenada, en discurso y, sobre todo, en acto. La justicia, por ejemplo, debe actuar de oficio contra Macedonio por amenazas directas de violencia. Y Morena debiera cortar vínculos y expulsarlo del partido. Pero no sucederá, pues Macedonio es Morena.En pocas palabras, Félix Salgado Macedonio desnuda el sentimiento íntimo de la organización: caudillismo conservador hijo de otra época, incapaz de convivir con la prensa, la oposición, la sociedad civil y las instituciones democráticas del siglo XXI.El presidente de México, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, en marzo de 2021José Méndez/EPA vía ShutterstockEste año, AMLO tiene serias chances de obtener mayoría absoluta en el Congreso, pero no ha dejado de sugerir que las autoridades electorales piensan arruinarle el plan. Es un comportamiento paranoico. Ya había señalado al INE como cómplice de su derrota en las elecciones presidenciales de 2006 y por eso cuando Félix Salgado Macedonio los atacó siguió dudando de su probidad: aunque no avalaba las palabras de su aliado, llamó a “luchar contra el fraude”.Hay una línea, visible o no, entre esos comportamientos. La política de símbolos, sugería Foucault, crea política, no ficciones. Produce sentidos. La gente toma decisiones porque los dichos suelen ser sucedidos por actos. La convocatoria al acoso o la violencia no son gratuitos del mismo modo que los ataques a un organismo regulador como el INE pueden minar la creencia social en sus capacidades y enlodar el proceso electoral.Cuando es el poder —o sus aliados— el que prescribe el discurso, esos actos expresan niveles variados de violencia institucional. El último ejemplo: la prórroga del periodo del presidente de la Suprema Corte de Justicia, cercano a AMLO. Es inconstitucional y una provocación: el gobierno cree que la justicia debe ser permeable a las decisiones presidenciales. AMLO ya dejó clara esa vocación cuando anunció que quería someter la continuidad de la candidatura de Félix Salgado Macedonio a una encuesta telefónica después de que fuera cancelada por el INE.El gobierno de México está nervioso. AMLO acusa sistemáticamente a sus críticos de querer derrumbar su autopromocionada Cuarta Transformación. En los últimos tiempos algunas encuestas sugirieron la posibilidad de que no logre una mayoría determinante en las elecciones intermedias de junio, escenario que le obligaría a dialogar con una oposición a la que aborrece (el sentimiento es mutuo).La creciente pérdida de autocontrol del presidente actualiza peligrosas y nada distantes experiencias de autoritarismo abierto. Hace dos años escribí sobre las coincidencias entre AMLO y Donald Trump. El expresidente de Estados Unidos, como ahora AMLO, atacó al sistema desde los márgenes y llevó la discusión política a un territorio dominado por sus ocurrencias y enemistades. Ambos alimentan la idea de que los medios y la prensa independiente son enemigos y abonan antagonismos. Como AMLO, Trump dejaba que sus subordinados lanzaran globos de ensayos para medir la tolerancia de la opinión pública. Como Trump, también AMLO acusa a los organismos de control electoral y a sus opositores de tolerar o preparar un complot contra él.El parecido es evidente porque filosofía y método son similares. Del mismo modo que supremacistas, como Stephen Miller, fueron parte del gobierno de Trump, hombres como Félix Salgado Macedonio tienen cabida natural en Morena. A menudo promueven un personalismo autoritario para ocupar el poder por la vía electoral y luego minan el sistema desde dentro, muchas veces modificando las normas para eternizarse.Es riesgoso dar por seguro que habrá una crisis institucional en México porque la futurología es proclive al error y el ridículo. Pero las señales no pueden desdeñarse; el país está en riesgo. Cuando los funcionarios en el poder plantean la convivencia en términos de enfrentamiento, crece la posibilidad de la violencia. También cuando se aviva la tensión por acción u omisión minando la integridad de los contrapesos instituciones. Salgado Macedonio y AMLO saben lo que hacen: enlodar la imagen de una institución todavía creíble lleva la disputa a su terreno: sin control, gana el poder. El poder, decía Foucault, no es puramente coercitivo sino discursivo.No hay salida fácil para el camino que encara México. Un gobierno autoritario se enfrentará en las elecciones a partidos opositores castigados por el descredito. Las elecciones legislativas de México no se resolverán por el mal menor sino optando por escalones aun más bajos: quién, de todos, es menos peor. División, polarización y violencia discursiva rara vez son el final del camino, sino el comienzo del descenso a un abismo.Diego Fonseca (@DiegoFonsecaDF) es escritor y director del Seminario Iberoamericano de Periodismo Emprendedor en CIDE-México y del Institute for Socratic Dialogue de Barcelona. Voyeur es su último libro. More

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      Los expresidentes de América Latina tienen demasiado poder

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      Es hora de bajarlos de sus pedestales.El domingo, los votantes de Ecuador eligieron a Guillermo Lasso, un exbanquero que está a favor de las políticas de libre mercado, como presidente. Votaron por él en lugar de por Andrés Arauz, un populista de izquierda. Algunos analistas lamentan el fin del progresismo, pero lo que realmente vimos fue un bienvenido golpe a una extraña forma de política del hombre fuerte: el fenómeno de expresidentes que buscan extender su control e influencia eligiendo y respaldando a sus “delfines” en elecciones nacionales.Arauz fue designado personalmente por el expresidente Rafael Correa, un economista semiautoritario que gobernó Ecuador de 2007 a 2017. La elección no fue solo un referendo sobre el papel del Estado en la economía, sino de manera más fundamental sobre la siguiente pregunta: ¿Qué papel deben desempeñar los expresidentes en la política, si es que acaso deben desempeñar alguno?En América Latina se ha vuelto normal que exmandatarios impulsen a candidatos sustitutos. Se trata de una forma extraña de caudillismo, o política del hombre fuerte, combinada con continuismo, o continuidad de linaje, pensada para mantener a los rivales al margen.Los expresidentes son los nuevos caudillos: pretenden extender su mandato a través de los herederos que escogen, algo llamado delfinismo, de “delfín”, el título dado al príncipe heredero al trono de Francia entre los siglos XIV y XIX.En la última década, al menos siete presidentes elegidos democráticamente en Latinoamérica fueron escogidos por su predecesor. El más reciente, Luis Arce, llegó al poder en Bolivia en 2020, patrocinado por el exmandatario Evo Morales. Estos candidatos sustitutos le deben mucho de su victoria a la bendición de su jefe, la cual tiene un precio: se espera que el nuevo presidente se mantenga leal a los deseos de su patrocinador.Esta práctica ata con esposas de oro a aquellos recién electos y socava la democracia en el proceso. Más que pasar la estafeta, los expresidentes emiten una especie de contrato de no competencia. En Argentina, una expresidenta, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, contendió como compañera de fórmula de su candidato presidencial escogido, Alberto Fernández.Después de ser la primera dama de Argentina y luego convertirse en presidenta, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, a la derecha, se convirtió en vicepresidenta de su candidato elegido, Alberto Fernández, a la izquierda.Foto de consorcio de Natacha PisarenkoEste estilo actual de política caudillista es la actualización de una actualización. En la versión clásica de la política del hombre fuerte —que dominó la política latinoamericana tras las guerras de independencia del siglo XIX y hasta la década de los setenta— muchos caudillos buscaban mantener su poder al prohibir o amañar las elecciones una vez que llegaban a la presidencia, una maniobra que usó famosamente el dictador mexicano Porfirio Díaz, o simulando golpes de Estado si no podían ganar, una estrategia empleada por el dictador cubano Fulgencio Batista en 1952.Este modelo clásico de continuismo era traumático. En México y en Cuba, incitó ni más ni menos que dos revoluciones históricas que resonaron en el mundo entero.Latinoamérica actualizó este modelo de caudillismo. Los golpes de Estado y las prohibiciones de elecciones se volvieron obsoletos en la década de 1980 y, en lugar de abolir la democracia, se volvió usual que los líderes comenzaran a reescribir las constituciones y a manipular las instituciones para permitir la reelección. Comenzó el auge de las reelecciones. Desde Joaquín Balaguer en la República Dominicana en 1986 hasta Sebastián Piñera en Chile en 2017, Latinoamérica tuvo a 15 expresidentes que volvieron a la presidencia.No obstante, el modelo del continuismo a través de la reelección ha enfrentado obstáculos de manera reciente debido a que varios expresidentes se han visto envueltos en problemas legales.Tan solo en Centroamérica, 21 de 42 expresidentes han tenido problemas legales. En Perú, seis expresidentes de los últimos 30 años han enfrentado cargos de corrupción. En Ecuador, Correa fue sentenciado por recibir financiamiento para su campaña a cambio de contratos estatales. Él afirma que es una víctima de persecución política. Su respuesta fue usar la campaña de Arauz como boleto para recuperar su influencia. En cierto momento de la campaña, el candidato promovió la idea de que un voto por él era un voto por Correa.Durante la campaña presidencial de Ecuador, el candidato Andrés Arauz promovió la idea de que un voto por él era un voto por el expresidente Rafael Correa.Dolores Ochoa/Associated PressEstas complicaciones legales alientan a los expresidentes a tratar de respaldar a sustitutos que, como mínimo, podrían darles un indulto si resultan electos.Los expresidentes parecen pensar que la versión más reciente del caudillismo libera al país del trauma. El presidente Alberto Fernández aseguró que cuando su jefa, la expresidenta Fernández de Kirchner, lo eligió como su candidato porque, argumentó, el país no necesitaba a alguien como ella, “que divido”, sino a alguien como él, “que suma”. A su vez, Fernández de Kirchner fue elegida heredera por su difunto esposo, el expresidente Néstor Kirchner.No obstante, esta subrogación política difícilmente resuelve el trauma asociado con su continuismo inherente. De hecho, lo hace más tóxico. Con excepción de los simpatizantes del expresidente, el país ve el truco como lo que es: una tentativa evidente de restauración.Los problemas del delfinismo van más allá de intensificar la polarización al exacerbar el fanatismo político y puede conducir a consecuencias aún más graves. En el México de antes del año 2000, en el que los presidentes prácticamente escogían personalmente a sus sucesores, los exmandatarios solían seguir la norma de retirarse de la política, por lo que concedían suficiente autonomía al sucesor.Sin embargo, en la versión más reciente del delfinismo, los sucesores no son tan afortunados. Los expresidentes que los patrocinaron siguen entrometiéndose. Esta interferencia produce tensiones para gobernar. El mandatario en funciones pierde su relevancia de manera prematura, con todos los ojos puestos en las opiniones del presidente anterior, o en algún momento busca romper con su jefe. La separación puede detonar guerras civiles terribles.Estas rupturas a menudo son inevitables. Los delfines electos enfrentan nuevas realidades con las que sus impulsores nunca lidiaron. Además, con frecuencia tienen que arreglar el desastre que dejaron sus jefes.Lenín Moreno, el actual presidente de Ecuador, quien fue seleccionado por Correa, tuvo desacuerdos con él respecto a una serie de políticas autoritarias de izquierda impulsadas por revelaciones de corrupción. El resultado fue una lucha de poderes que dividió a la coalición gobernante y entorpeció la capacidad del gobierno de lidiar con la crisis económica y luego con la pandemia de la COVID-19.Una lucha similar ocurrió en Colombia cuando el entonces presidente Juan Manuel Santos, escogido por Álvaro Uribe, decidió llegar a un acuerdo de paz con las guerrillas, con lo que desafío la postura de Uribe. El resultado fue una especie de guerra civil entre ambos hombres que rivalizó en intensidad con la guerra contra las guerrillas a la que el gobierno intentaba poner fin.No hay una solución sencilla a este tipo de continuismo. Los partidos deben dejar de poner a sus expresidentes en un pedestal. Necesitan reformar las precandidaturas para asegurarse de que otros líderes, no solo los exmandatarios, tengan los medios para competir de manera interna. Los países latinoamericanos han hecho mucho para garantizar que haya una fuerte competencia entre partidos, pero mucho menos para garantizar la competencia dentro de los partidos.Nada huele más a oligarquía y corrupción que un expresidente que intenta mantenerse vigente a través de candidatos sustitutos. Y Ecuador ha demostrado que esta manipulación política puede acabar por empoderar precisamente a las mismas ideologías políticas que los expresidentes pretendían contener.Javier Corrales (@jcorrales2011) es escritor y profesor de Ciencias Políticas en Amherst College. Su obra más reciente es Fixing Democracy: Why Constitutional Change Often Fails to Enhance Democracy in Latin America. More

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      in Elections

      Latin America’s Former Presidents Have Way Too Much Power

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      It’s time to take them down from their pedestals.On Sunday, voters elected Guillermo Lasso, a former banker and a supporter of free-market policies, as president of Ecuador over Andrés Arauz, a left-wing populist. Some analysts are decrying the end of progressivism, but what we are really seeing is a welcome setback for a strange form of strongman politics: the phenomenon of former presidents seeking to extend their control and influence by choosing and backing their protégés in national elections.Mr. Arauz was handpicked by former President Rafael Correa, a semiauthoritarian economist who governed Ecuador from 2007 to 2017. The election was a referendum not just on the role of the state in the economy but also more fundamentally on the question, “What, if any, role should former presidents play in politics?”In Latin America, it has become normal for former presidents to promote surrogate candidates. This is a bizarre form of caudillismo, or strongman politics, combined with continuismo, or lineage continuity, intended to keep rivals at bay.Today, former presidents are the new caudillos, and they are hoping to extend their rule through their chosen heirs — in what is called delfinismo, from “dauphin,” the title given to the heir apparent to the French throne in the 14th through 19th centuries.In the last decade, at least seven democratically elected presidents in Latin America were handpicked by a predecessor. The most recent, Luis Arce, came to power in Bolivia in 2020, sponsored by former strongman Evo Morales. These surrogate candidates owe much of their victory to their patron’s blessing, which comes with a price. The new presidents are expected to stay loyal to their patron’s wishes.The practice binds those newly elected in golden handcuffs, undermining democracy in the process. More than passing the torch, former presidents issue a sort of noncompete contract. In Argentina, a former president, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, ran as vice president with her chosen candidate, Alberto Fernández.After serving as Argentina’s first lady and then president, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, right, became vice president under her chosen candidate, Alberto Fernández, left.Pool photo by Natacha PisarenkoThis current style of strongman politics is an update of an update. In the classic version of the strongman politics, which dominated Latin American politics after the wars of independence during the 19th century until the 1970s, many caudillos sought to stay in office by banning or rigging elections, a tactic famously utilized by the Mexican dictator Porfirio Díaz, or by staging coups if they couldn’t win office, a tradition employed by the Cuban dictator Fulgencio Batista in 1952.This classic model of continuismo was intensely traumatic. In Mexico and Cuba, the model incited nothing less than two world-historic revolutions.Latin America updated this model of caudillismo. Coups and election bans became unfashionable by the 1980s, and so rather than abolish democracy, it became more common for leaders to rewrite constitutions and manipulate institutions to permit re-election. A re-election boom followed. From Joaquín Balaguer in the Dominican Republic in 1986 to Sebastián Piñera in Chile in 2017, Latin America saw 15 former presidents return to the presidency.But lately, the model of continuismo through re-election has run into trouble after a number of former presidents found themselves entangled in legal troubles.In Central America alone, 21 of 42 former presidents have had brushes with the law. In Peru, six ex-presidents from the past 30 years have faced corruption charges. In Ecuador, Mr. Correa was convicted of trading campaign finance contributions for state contracts. He claimed he was a victim of political persecution. His response was to use Mr. Arauz’s campaign as the ticket back to influence. At some point during the campaign, the candidate even promoted the idea that a vote for him was a vote for Mr. Correa.During Ecuador’s presidential campaign, the candidate Andrés Arauz promoted the idea that a vote for him was a vote for former President Rafael Correa.Dolores Ochoa/Associated PressThese legal complications encourage former presidents to promote surrogates who might, at the very least, pardon them if elected.Former presidents seem to think that this latest update of caudillismo liberates the country from trauma. President Alberto Fernández claimed that when her sponsor, former president Fernández de Kirchner, chose him as her candidate, she justified her decision by arguing that the country didn’t need someone like her, “who divides,” but someone like him, who can “draw people together.” Ms. Fernández de Kirchner was herself chosen as an heir by her late husband, former president Néstor Kirchner.But this political surrogacy hardly solves the trauma associated with its inherent continuismo. In fact, that makes it more toxic. Except for the former president’s followers, the country sees the gimmick for what it is: an obvious effort at restoration.The problems with delfinismo go beyond intensified polarization by exacerbating political fanaticism and can lead to even greater problems. In Mexico until the 1990s, where presidents essentially handpicked their successors, former presidents typically observed the norm of retiring from politics, granting the successor sufficient autonomy.But in the most recent version of delfinismo, successors are not that lucky. The sponsoring former presidents keep meddling. This interference produces governance travails. The sitting presidents either become premature lame ducks, with all eyes turned to the former presidents’ views, or eventually seek a break from their patrons. Splits can unleash nasty civil wars.Such breaks are often inevitable. Elected delfines face new realities that sponsors never confronted. Frequently they have to clean up messes their sponsors left behind.Lenín Moreno, the current president of Ecuador, who was selected by Mr. Correa, broke with him on a number of leftist-authoritarian policies, prompted by revelations of corruption. The result was a power struggle that splintered the ruling coalition and hindered the government’s ability to cope with the economic crisis and then the Covid-19 pandemic.A similar battle occurred in Colombia when President Juan Manuel Santos, chosen by the then president Álvaro Uribe, decided to make peace with guerrillas, defying Mr. Uribe’s preference. The result was a near civil war between those men that rivaled in intensity the war against guerrillas that the government was trying to settle.There is no easy solution to this type of continuismo. Parties need to stop placing their former presidents on a pedestal. They need to reform primaries to ensure leaders other than former presidents have the means to compete internally. Latin American countries have done a lot to ensure strong competition among parties, but less so within parties.Nothing screams oligarchy and corruption like a former president trying to stay alive through surrogate candidates. And Ecuador has demonstrated that this political maneuver may end up also empowering rather than weakening the very same political ideologies the former presidents were trying to contain.Javier Corrales is a professor and the chair of the political science department at Amherst College.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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      in US Politics

      'Blindsided': Biden faces tough test in reversing Trump's cruel border legacy

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      Lauded for his human touch, Joe Biden is facing an early political and moral test over how his government treats thousands of migrant children who make the dangerous journey to America alone.

      Officials say the number of people caught attempting to cross the US-Mexico border is on pace to hit its highest number for 20 years. Single adults and families are being expelled under coronavirus safety rules inherited from Donald Trump.
      But a growing number of children, some as young as six years old, from Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras are arriving at the southern border without parents or guardians. These minors are brought to border patrol facilities – where many languish in cramped, prison-like conditions for days on end.
      The fast-developing humanitarian emergency shows how Biden’s determination to break from Trump’s harsh, nativist crackdown in favour of a more compassionate approach has collided with the reality of finite resources and a broken system.
      “I do think that they were blindsided by this surge,” said María Teresa Kumar, founding president of the grassroots political organisation Voto Latino. “As someone that monitored this a lot, I didn’t see that coming and I don’t think the community saw that coming. It took everybody by surprise.
      “It is heart-wrenching knowing that there are children that are cold and don’t have family. It’s one of these cases where there seems to be no right answers. Knowing the people inside the administration are very much on the side of immigrants speaks to me that there are real moral dilemmas happening right now and I would not want to be in that position.”

      Democrats have called the situation a “challenge” and “problem” and blamed Trump’s legacy. Republicans have rushed to brand it the first “crisis” and “disaster” of Biden’s presidency. The battle is proof that border access remains one of the most complex, emotive and radioactive issues in American politics.
      Trump launched his campaign for the presidency by promising to build a wall, routinely vilified migrants and, ahead of the 2018 midterm elections, spoke often of an “invasion”. Biden stopped construction of the wall and promised to unwind Trump’s zero-tolerance policies.
      The number of “encounters” between migrants and Customs and Border Protection (CBP) has increased every month since April 2020. But when 100,441 migrants were reported attempting to cross the border last month, it was the highest level since March 2019 and included a particular rise in unaccompanied children.
      Many such children head to the US to reunite with family members or escape poverty, crime and violence. Central America has been hit by hurricanes and the economic fallout of Covid-19. In an ABC interview this week, Biden denied that more migrants were coming because he is “a nice guy”, insisting: “They come because their circumstance is so bad.”
      Under Trump, unaccompanied children were sent straight back to Mexico. Biden decided they should go to a border patrol facility and, within 72 hours, be transferred to the health department with a view to being placed with a family member or sponsor.
      However, it has quickly become clear the system is not fit for purpose, leaving about 4,500 children stuck in facilities designed for adult men. Lawyers who visited one facility in Texas described seeing children sleeping on the floor or on metal benches and being allowed outside for a few minutes every few days.
      The administration is scrambling to find more capacity, opening emergency shelters and using a convention centre in Dallas to house up to 3,000 teenage boys. It also deployed the Federal Emergency Management Agency (Fema), which typically responds to floods, storms and other disasters, to help shelter and transport children at least until early June.
      Republicans seized on that move as evidence a disaster is unfolding. The House minority leader, Kevin McCarthy, led a delegation of a dozen Republicans to El Paso, Texas, and spoke of “the Biden border crisis”, adding: “It’s more than a crisis. This is human heartbreak.”
      The message has resounded through a conservative media that finds Biden an elusive target. Trump made wildly exaggerated claims in a Fox News interview: “They’re destroying our country. People are coming in by the hundreds of thousands, And, frankly, our country can’t handle it. It is a crisis like we have rarely had and, certainly, we have never had on the border.”
      For Republicans, reeling from election defeat, internal divisions and failure to block Biden’s $1.9tn coronavirus relief bill, the border offers a political lifeline.
      Henry Olsen, a senior fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center thinktank in Washington, said: “If the numbers go down next month this isn’t a crisis, but I think what they are expecting is that they’re not going to go down and that this is going to be something that will be an enduring and endemic problem.
      “It’s something that energises and unites the Trump voting coalition and could easily be seen as a failure on behalf of the administration by just enough of the people who voted for him but aren’t hardcore Democrats. So I think it’s a very smart move by Republicans to play this out and Biden needs to figure out how you can be compassionate while not being naively welcoming. He has not yet figured out how to do that.”

      Others, however, regard the Republican response as predictable ploy by a party obsessed with demonising migrants. Kumar said: “They’re phonies and it is coldly calculated because they know they have problems with suburban white women voters, and they are trying to make a case for it for the midterms.
      “It’s cynical and gross because when children were literally dying at the border, when they had a president that was teargassing refugees, not one of them stood up. It’s callous and cold political expediency and it’s shameful.”
      The White House has pointed out that the Trump administration forcibly separated nearly 3,000 children from parents, with no system in place to reunite them. Alejandro Mayorkas, the first migrant and first Latino in charge of the Department of Homeland Security, told Congress: “A crisis is when a nation is willing to rip a nine-year-old child out of the hands of his or her parent and separate that family to deter future migration. That, to me, is a humanitarian crisis.”
      Mayorkas argues that Trump’s decision to cut staffing, bed capacity and other resources was reckless given the likelihood that the number of migrants would rise again as the pandemic waned.
      “The system was gutted,” he said, “facilities were closed and they cruelly expelled young children into the hands of traffickers. We have had to rebuild the entire system, including the policies and procedures required to administer the asylum laws that Congress passed long ago.” More

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      in World Politics

      Violence Against Women in Mexico Rises

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      Home is not a safe space for many women around the world and coronavirus-era quarantines and lockdowns have increased the risk of gender-based violence. In Mexico, statistics reflect this reality and women additionally face the rising risk of becoming targets amid violent drug crime and the militarization of the state security forces.

      According to the Secretariat of Citizen Security (SSPC) last year, 3,752 women were violently killed. Of these were 969 classified as femicides — defined as the violent death of a woman because of her gender — a slight increase on the previous year’s figure. According to data compiled by the Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean, Mexico has the second-highest total number of femicides in the region — after Brazil — whilst nearby El Salvador and Honduras have the highest rates per capita. The prevalence of violent crime, a culture of machismo and weak implementation of measures designed to protect women mean Latin America is home to 14 of the 25 countries with the highest rates of femicide in the world.

      What’s Behind Chile’s Vaccination Success?

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      The first months of the coronavirus pandemic were particularly dangerous for Mexican women, according to Maissa Hubert, the executive sub-director of Equis Justicia Para Las Mujeres, a Mexico City-based NGO. “During the first months of the pandemic, we saw a rise in various forms of gender-based violence,” she says. “In total, 11 women killed each day, compared to 10 per day at the start of 2020.”

      In March 2020, the emergency call centers received 26,000 reports of violence against women, the highest ever in Mexico. The number of women leaving their homes to take shelter in the National Refuge Network quadrupled.

      Outside the home, however, the continued growth of Mexico’s transnational criminal organizations and the militarized response of state security forces have further increased risks to women. While crime dropped in the first months of the pandemic, the security vacuum has increased clashes between 198 active armed groups in the country’s “hyper-fragmented criminal landscape,” according to International Crisis Group.

      Gangs and Militarized State Security

      “Organized crime has aggravated the situation with regards to the murder of women,” says Maria Salguero, a researcher who created the National Femicide Map. “The crime gangs use the dead bodies of women to send messages to their rivals. In states where there is a lot of organized crime, such as Juarez, Chihuahua, Guerrero and Naucalpan, we see high incidences of femicide, disappearances and rape.”

      The situation is exacerbated by the further militarization of state security. The Bertelsmann Transformation Index’s (BTI) country report on Mexico notes that “the army has been called upon to perform internal security tasks and is receiving large amounts of resources in the context of the war against drug trafficking.” It adds that the widening of the military’s mandate to include civilian tasks could have worrisome implications for consensus building in the country. As noted in the BTI report, President Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador‘s government risks losing public support if it cannot solve the challenges of corruption and violence in the country. It points out that “the fact that the army, which has so far not signified a threat to democracy, is required to undertake ever more tasks may be a threat in the future.” Such a breakdown in trust for institutions and the security forces could have knock-on effects for all violent crime.

      Embed from Getty Images

      On May 11, 2020, the Mexican armed forces and National Guard were given new authority to play a far greater role in policing violent crime in the country — giving them free rein to assume many of the police force’s duties — without any effective audit mechanism.

      The effect of this process on gender-based violence is only now coming to be understood. “The attitude of this government and its predecessors has been that a military response to the security situation will protect all of us and women in particular,” says Hubert. “But the reality is that the increased circulation of firearms has had a tremendous impact on women.”  

      Firearms were the weapon used in 60% of the total 1,844 murders committed against women in 2020. From 1998 to 2019, the number of women killed by firearms in Mexico rose by 375%. Over 2.5 million firearms have entered Mexico from the US over the last decade, and firearms accounted for the overwhelming majority of the total of 34,515 murders registered in Mexico in 2020, the highest number since 2015.

      An Overlooked Issue

      The continued emphasis on militarized security is sapping state funds at a time when resources for programs addressing violence against women in Mexico are being cut. In recent years, Mexican public policy has had a mixed record with respect to gender-based violence. It took until December last year for President Lopez Obrador to talk about gender-based violence, having previously avoided using the word femicide or acknowledge that women faced specific security concerns. In May 2020, he said that 90% of domestic violence-related 911 calls were false. His team failed to provide evidence to support this claim when requested to by NGOs.

      Despite this intransigence at the executive level, in recent years, there has been greater recognition of the problem at the federal and ministerial level, according to Hubert, with many long-lasting public policies proposed by the National Institute of Women, founded in 2001. However, many of the preventative and reactive policies introduced to tackle gender-based violence have been subject to cuts in government spending as a result of the pandemic.

      “We analyzed the activity of the courts at the start of the pandemic, and we found gender-based violence was not being prioritized,” says Hubert. “Issues such as divorce and alimony are crucial for a woman looking to free herself from a violent situation, but they weren’t being attended to by the courts.” 

      For Saguero, the priority is to keep recording the names and identities of the victims of Mexico’s “shadow pandemic” of gender-based violence. “Only by making the victims visible can we really make the scale of the problem visible,” she says, “but we have a lot of work to do because the numbers remain high.”

      The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy. More