Fragments of a Golden Age: The Politics of Culture in Mexico since 1940

Abstract

Many historians would cringe at the thought of attempting to rewrite the history of U.S. postwar political culture by focusing on, say, Hulk Hogan, Fritz the Cat, and Social Distortion. This is essentially what the contributors to this volume propose for the case of postrevolutionary Mexico. The editors ambitiously describe this collection as “the first real attempt to relate issues of representation and meaning to questions of power in a history of Mexico since 1940” (p. 14). From a postrevisionist perspective, they seek to deconstruct the concept of lo mexicano by examining the culture of Mexico’s imagined “golden age” of prosperity, modernity, and political consensus. Combining innovative cultural and transnational theory with traditional political analysis, this important book represents a new direction in Mexican historiography in the United States. It also reflects the interests (and biases) of a new generation of Mexicanists, mostly historians, but also anthropologists, communications specialists and others, who feel at home in the Mexico City, if not of Amores perros, then at least of the Librería Gandhi and El Parnaso. Largely shunning the provinces, they revel in the bajos fondos of metropolitan nightlife, jai alai courts and bull rings, and dine in the fashionable fusion restaurants of the Colonia Condesa. Their perspective is that of the educated, progressive chilango middle class. Their guru is the brilliant Mexican cultural critic Carlos Monsiváis.To set the context for the individual case studies, Arthur Schmidt opens with a sweeping historiographical essay that deconstructs previous metanarratives of postrevolutionary Mexican political development. He specifically attacks traditional periodization, as well as statist, corporatist, presidentialist, and nationalist interpretations, but also warns against the dangers of extreme culturalism. Instead, he advocates a postrevisionist approach that places emphasis on popular cultural agency, state-civil society interaction, and globalization. Schmidt cogently articulates and synthesizes the new historiographical agenda that has been taking shape in the minds of many Mexicanists since the cultural turn.The rest of the book consists of a pastiche of case studies of diverse cultural phenomena such as lucha libre (Heather Levi), cinema (Seth Fein, Anne Ruben-stein), cuisine (Jeffrey Pilcher), magazines (John Mraz), tourism (Alex Saragoza, Eric Zolov, Quetzil Castañeda), rocanrol (Rubén Martínez), television (Omar Hernández and Emile McAnany, Alison Greene), cartoons, and workers’ culture (Steven Bachelor). Most authors examine their subjects from the multiple perspectives of the state, the private sector, the United States, and popular culture. Despite their general avoidance of statist interpretations, the state still looms large in their analysis. Mraz, for example, emphasizes the centrality of presidential power in the rise and fall of photojournalism. But what is surprising is the degree to which the editors of illustrated magazines actually dared to criticize the government. Likewise, the Mexican state strongly shaped the development of international tourism, fostering first an “essentializing,” later a cosmopolitan representation of the country. One crucial conclusion is that the contribution of the Mexican private sector should not be underestimated. Several of the case studies stress the towering presence of the Azcárraga dynasty in the development of Mexico’s mass media industry. Many aspects of Mexican popular culture, from lucha libre to telenovelas, were essentially defined by the family’s entertainment empire. Likewise, both the U.S. culture industry and U.S. government propaganda had a profound impact in Mexico, as Fein demonstrates for the World War II period. But, as Schmidt argues, postrevolutionary Mexican culture was the result of the interaction, however unequal, of popular sectors with state and business projects. Many of the essays attempt to analyze the process of cultural appropriation, which seldom followed any top-down blueprint. Instead, popular interpretations could actually empower subaltern groups, as Bachelor masterfully shows for the case of the Mexican GM autoworkers, who combined Mexican and foreign cultural elements to forge their own independent vision of modernity and progress.Though the collection’s mostly chilango focus is quite salutary and succeeds in undermining old stereotypes of Mexico as a rural and backward place, a new discursive myopia appears: the emphasis is modern, not traditional; urban, not rural; metropolitan, not provincial. By focusing on the exciting bustle on the streets of Mexico City, the authors largely overlook both peasant and elite cultures. Religion, whether Catholic, Protestant or otherwise, is entirely omitted. The authors’ view of transnationalism is essentially bilateral. While understandably centering the United States, they ignore the profound influence of Europe, in particular Spain and France, and of other Latin American nations (Cuba, Argentina). Also, transnationalism works both ways. For example, the editors define Pan Bimbo, “Mexico’s Wonder Bread clone,” as “a bridge between lo mexicano and the American Dream” (pp. 10–11). This is basically true, but the story is more complicated than that. For starters, the founders of Grupo Bimbo all had strong Catalan ties. And today, Bimbo is the third largest baked goods producer in the world. In an ironic twist, last year Bimbo threatened to acquire its main U.S. competitor, Interstate Bakeries, the owner of the original Wonder Bread brand. The collection thus has a somewhat skewed feel to it. One might even argue that a new form of exoticization has emerged. Peasants, burros and serapes have been exchanged for chavos banda, antros, and lucha libre. However, in all fairness, it must be stressed that the editors make no claims to present a complete overview of Mexican culture, and their urban focus makes historiographical sense.The studies, though theoretically informed, are low on jargon and thus accessible to a broad audience. This may disappoint pomo theory buffs, but does allow for undergraduate class use. The best articles combine Geertzean thick description with solid historical analysis. The rich, delightful, and distinctly cool cultural tidbits that tumble from this academic piñata will, one hopes, soon become the building blocks of a new history of postrevolutionary Mexico’s golden age.