Mexico is a culturally rich country, although its government marginalizes and displaces its indigenous people — from whom much of their culture has been stripped — of their languages, political organizations, and territories.
[By Marianna Navarette]
‘¡But I’m still the king!’ sang a Spanish man behind me in the audience as we watched the mariachis perform in the Civic Center Plaza. A professor once told me this “Things change, but not that much.” She was right.
Just 212 years ago, Mexico did not exist. It was only after the war of independence that Mexico finally became a nation free from Spain – but not from the church or the ruling elites. They were the ones who laid the first stones in the construction of the project that is the Mexican nation-state.
Both ruling classes were part of the reason I heard mariachi in downtown San Francisco on September 15 (before Mexican Independence Day, which is celebrated on September 16). Throughout the day, I saw family and friends on social media — in Mexico and the U.S. — getting ready to participate in patriotic festivities with typical sombreros and ‘¡Viva México!’ slogans. I saw their posts about being proud of their ‘roots’ and the cultural richness of Mexico.
Personally, I’m not sure if I’m proud of my ‘roots’, as the surnames on my family tree are mostly of Spanish origin. Recently, my family discovered that an ancestor of ours came with Hernán Cortes in the 16th century, and while I’m not sure if I have an ancestor of indigenous origin, “mestizaje” is most likely in my family.
It may seem that the discourse of “mestizaje” in Mexico is friendly and that it invites coexistence and diversity. However, there is a deeper story, one that hides and legitimizes a process of forced acculturation, as Carlos López Beltrán explores in his book. Mestizo Genomics: Race Mixture, Nation, and Science in Latin America.
So if I have no roots or cultural connection to indigeneity, what should I celebrate on September 16? This year, I left work early and rode the 49 Muni to the Civic Center to see the party hosted by the Mexican Consulate. At every stop there was at least one person in a sombrero, a Mexican soccer jersey, maybe one tEAmchildren with the mattresses, and fathers with beers in hand. I had a pair of patriotic earrings, beaded in green, white and red.
When I reached the center of the square, on top of a stage, Isabela ‘Chabelita’ Vázquez was singing, accompanied by Mariachi Nueva Generación. It was 7 p.m., still light, and attendees watched the sun set behind City Hall while listening to mariachi music, as if it were our version of the American Dream.
A couple of homeless people sang along to the mariachi and enjoyed the atmosphere. The people around them looked on with joy instead of ignoring or looking down on them, as they surely would at any other time of the year. It was an alternate reality. All were welcome to the Mexican party.
I came across the president of Mexico, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, printed on human-sized cardboard. People took pictures with him, out of admiration, mockery, or both, I guess.
A few hours later, in Mexico City’s Zócalo, Andrés Manuel – not the cardboard one – added to his call for independence from the National Palace: “Death to classism! Death to racism! Long live the indigenous peoples!” I was in my pajamas watching the broadcast and ended up amazed by Andrés Manuel’s statements because he included ‘indigenous peoples’ in his patriotic speech.
This reminded me of what the linguist, writer, translator and researcher aww — or blend — Yásnaya Aguilar from the Sierra Norte of Oaxaca, argues in her texts that the culture and art of indigenous peoples are used as objects of consumption by the Mexican state. Aguilar explains that throughout history, Mexico has tried to homogenize the many indigenous communities that exist. This creates an imaginary or false “Mexican” identity, which shows the world that although Mexico is a country rich in culture, its government marginalizes and displaces its indigenous people from their languages, political organizations, and territories.
The Nahuas, Huichols, Mayas, Mixtecs, Purépechas, and other indigenous peoples living in what is now Mexico did not participate in the composition of the national anthem or in the establishment of the nation’s national symbols. Therefore, the ‘roots’ we are so proud of are only used for demonstrations and cultural appropriations, but when it comes to autonomy and human rights, their protection is not encouraged.
In the last year alone, 58 environmental activists have been killed in Mexico, most of them from indigenous communities. However, on September 16, Zapotec, Rarámuri and Mayan dances are showcased in numerous celebrations around the country and the world, while the Mexican government violates human rights in their territories.
I find it difficult to ‘celebrate’ this day with an, for me personally, empty identity. But after hearing mariachi on Sept. 16 — which also marked Independence Day in Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua and Costa Rica — I went to eat some tacos and drink horchata. I don’t celebrate ‘La Patria’, I celebrate pozole, salutes, tlayudas, AND soups. Handmade quesadillas and made-from-scratch mole. Naturally flavored water of Jamaica and tamarind. of sweet bread and Mexican grandmothers saying good morning in the street. I too celebrate the rivers, beaches, mangroves and mountains that I miss from Mexico. I celebrate the environmentalists who are still out there.
Perhaps, the Mexican identity is having the natural talent to say ‘chido’, ‘wey’, ‘padre’ and ‘mande’ and not so much about knowing the national anthem. Maybe the 16th is all about celebrating an imaginary homeland with tequila and mariachi. Perhaps only the privileged can party as they have time to party. Or maybe, it’s just one more day.
