The Importance of an Effective Electoral System

 The Importance of an Effective Electoral System

Diego Martín Velázquez Caballero

The Mexican political system, like Latin American presidential systems in general, has reached a critical point in the debate surrounding its electoral and governance structure.

Experience reveals that outside the United States, presidentialism does not function effectively and has faced severe problems stemming from the separation of powers, high electoral competitiveness, and political fragmentation.

In Mexico, the electoral system has been subject to numerous reforms that, far from resolving these problems, seem to cyclically fall into the same errors, perpetuating a quagmire that hinders democratic governance and favors the intervention of de facto powers and external actors, such as the United States.

Giovanni Sartori, in his work on constitutional engineering, proposed the concept of intermittent presidentialism.

This idea should not be understood as a derogatory critique, but rather as a strategy to make presidentialism functional in contexts where governance has been severely compromised.

Adopting measures such as implementing runoff elections for all offices, eliminating corrupt practices in party financing, and reducing the influence of powerful vested interests are concrete steps toward strengthening a presidential system that, in its intermittent form, can offer greater stability and democratic control.

Accumulating evidence indicates that electoral reforms in Mexico have been insufficient, and that social distrust and the ambition of political parties only deepen the crisis.

One option, perhaps radical but plausible, would be to adopt elements of the U.S. electoral system to mitigate the erosion of presidential power.

The political history of Latin America demands robust democratic governance, and reforms must go beyond mere stopgap measures, promoting a Sartorian model that makes presidential power functional, inhibits the influence of external and vested interests, and guarantees the effective exercise of political power.

Continuing in the same logic of collisions only demonstrates that Mexican political science has failed to translate its knowledge into practical solutions, and that, ultimately, the country remains trapped in an electoral organization model that, despite its formal changes, maintains the structure of a system that fails to respond to the challenges of modern governance.

North America. A new war of samurais against Tlaxcalians?

North America. A new war of Samurais against Tlaxcalians?  Diego Martín Velázquez Caballero

Recent history and global geopolitical dynamics reveal that empires and nations are in constant transformation, driven by economic, strategic, and cultural interests. In recent years, the contribution of various Indigenous groups to the construction of the Spanish Empire has been emphasized, sometimes sensationally, highlighting the struggles on various Asian peninsulas where Spain attempted to expand and spread the Catholic Counter-Reformation in strategic territories of global significance. Historical evidence clearly shows how great powers have vied for resources, influence, and hegemony in scenarios where power dynamics have been defined by competition for natural resources, trade routes, and military control, revealing a recurring pattern in the history of empires and their confrontations.

In the contemporary context, North America emerges as the main stage for a possible geopolitical reconfiguration, where China and the United States appear poised to star in a new edition of the Cold War. The competition for global hegemony is shifting to this continent, which in recent decades has been an epicenter of economic, political, and military tensions and disputes. China's expansion in the Americas, driven by its Belt and Road Initiative, and its growing presence in countries like Mexico and Canada, point to a consolidation process that could alter the regional balance. China's presence in North America involves not only economic interests but also strategic ones, with the potential creation of "forward ports" in Canada and the expansion of its influence in key sectors such as energy, infrastructure, and technology.

The Canadian case is particularly relevant, given that its decision to strengthen economic ties with China and accelerate its process of de-Americanization has generated far-reaching concerns. The possibility of Canada becoming inundated with Chinese immigrants, as has happened in the United States with approximately 50 million undocumented Mexican immigrants, raises a series of questions about the country's social and demographic transformation. The informal economic alliance with China, which has deepened in the current context, can be interpreted as an attempt by Canada to emancipate itself from US influence, seeking a path to autonomy that entails high political and social costs. The question that arises is whether the United States will allow China to move its "beachheads" to areas closer to its border, thus consolidating a presence that could jeopardize US supremacy in its own sphere of influence. China is overwhelming the United States economically and industrially, in addition to drugging the Anglo-Saxon population with fentanyl.

The Canadian decision, in this sense, represents an act of audacity that challenges traditional US hegemony, revealing a strategy of de-Americanization that, while costly, reflects a desire for autonomy. The question then becomes what consequences this policy will have for Mexico and the rest of the countries in the region. The possibility that North America could become an arena where Chinese and Mexican immigrants might engage in a socioeconomic and cultural dispute is a hypothesis that should not be dismissed, particularly if we consider that the United States and China could maintain a low-intensity war or a containment agreement, which in practice would amount to a form of "Detente."

In this scenario, the tension between migrant communities could resemble a Vietnam-style conflict within the United States' Lebensraum, where colonial needs and the struggle for resources and social recognition intertwine, generating a dispute that would be exploited by external actors seeking to weaken American influence. The Canadian decision, therefore, not only shocks the American empire but also redefines the power dynamics in the region. The difference between the rebellions in Brazil or Venezuela and the intransigence in Canada lies in the proximity and strategic importance of the northern country, which could mark a turning point in continental geopolitics. The future of tomorrow is being built today, and within it, the struggle for influence in North America will reflect the global tensions that will define the balance of power in the coming years.

Intervention in Mexico or War South of the United States?

 Intervention in Mexico or War South of the United States?

Diego Martín Velázquez Caballero

A prospective analysis of an intervention in Mexico is incomplete if it fails to recognize that the most critical battlefront for U.S. national security is not in the Sierra Madre, but rather in the arteries of its own territory.

Before attempting to cross the Rio Grande south, the Donald Trump administration must confront the reality that drug trafficking and institutional erosion have already colonized the Sun Belt states.

California, Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, and Florida are not just border states; they are the operational center of an informal economy that has permeated local power structures, creating a scenario where the distinction between transnational crime and everyday life is almost nonexistent.

As Langley’s hypothesis and Samuel Huntington’s studies on the Hispanic challenge warn, the lack of effective cultural assimilation and the porous nature of the law have allowed the Mexican cacique model to be successfully replicated on U.S. soil.

If Washington seeks to prevent the country's disintegration, the true "punitive expedition" must begin within its borders.

An internal purge in the southern United States is the mandatory prerequisite for any external action.

Order cannot be restored in a neighboring country when the border cities themselves operate under the logic of Mexamerica, where corruption in public administration and infiltration of intelligence agencies have created a sanctuary for the very actors they are meant to combat.

The danger, as George Friedman rightly pointed out, is that an invasion of Mexico without a prior purge in the southern United States would trigger an internal asymmetric resistance of incalculable proportions.

The most powerful drug traffickers are not farmers in Sinaloa; they are invisible figures operating from luxury condominiums in Florida and logistical centers in Texas.

Starting a war in Mexico while these actors maintain their mobilization capacity within the United States is to guarantee a low-intensity civil war on its own soil.

Huntington established that linguistic and cultural fragmentation poses a risk to national identity; however, the immediate risk is the fragmentation of the monopoly on the use of force.

The capture of drug cartel leaders or high-ranking politicians with ties to organized crime, as has occurred in countries like Venezuela, Colombia, and Panama, has often proven to be a limited and short-lived strategy, since in Mexico such a measure is practically useless.

This is because the Mexican government lacks effective control over criminal organizations, which operate in an environment of complete chaos and violence.

The existence of multiple cartels, acting independently and in constant conflict, prevents authorities from focusing on specific capture targets, creating a scenario in which eliminating a leader only leads to the rapid reconfiguration of these groups.

Furthermore, history has shown that, instead of weakening them, the death or capture of a leader fosters the proliferation of cells and the creation of new criminal structures, which quickly adapt to the power vacuum.

This phenomenon turns the fight against drug trafficking into a kind of chess game in which, instead of eradicating the disease, it is perpetuated and exacerbated, transforming criminal organizations into a cancer that spreads and becomes more resistant with each failed attempt.

For all these reasons, focusing solely on capturing leaders, without addressing the root causes of the problem, is an incomplete strategy and, in many cases, counterproductive to the country's security.

Therefore, the drug war strategy for Mexico must be, above all, a strategy of internal regeneration.

The United States must apply in its own South the iron fist it plans to export. Eliminating local power brokers in California and Texas, dismantling the money laundering networks that sustain the informal caste system in the southern metropolises, and purging the bureaucracy that has facilitated this exchange is the only way to safeguard the Empire. Only when the southern United States ceases to be the playground of the drug oligarchy can Washington hope to stabilize Mexico through a strong interlocutor.

The battle for American sovereignty will not be won at the Altiplano, but rather through a thorough cleansing of its own borders, before the Hispanic challenge becomes the definitive fracture of the American dream.

Mexico and the Canadian Bet

Mexico and the Canadian Bet

Diego Martín Velázquez Caballero

The economic and political reality of Mexico reveals that, despite rhetoric and aspirations for independence, the country remains deeply tied to the U.S. economy.

The global trend, as evidenced by Canada's recent alliances with China, shows a shift toward diversification and the search for new trading partners.

However, in the Mexican case, this strategy is not only unfeasible but also dangerous.

Trade with the United States represents more than 80% of Mexican exports, and the dependence on this market is so pronounced that any change in U.S. policy has a direct effect on the country's economic stability.

Data indicates that Mexican imports from China have almost doubled in the last decade, reaching $62 billion by 2025, with intermediate goods that enhance the competitiveness of Mexican industry.

But this same vulnerability is reflected in exports, which reached a record $5.2 billion in 2022, primarily minerals, electronic circuits, and auto parts, all destined for China.

However, this diversification does not alter the reality: the Mexican economy is structurally designed to depend on the United States.

Canada's proposal to reduce its dependence on the U.S. through agreements with China and other countries serves as an example that Mexico cannot afford to ignore, but it also reveals the complexity of doing so without losing stability and sovereignty.

The narrative of Mexican nationalism, a pantheon of myths, has fueled a perception of self-sufficiency for decades, which in reality has only served to reinforce dependence.

The idea that Mexico can become a middle power, like Canada, requires not only a solid economic strategy but also a profound cultural shift, one that blends Anglo-Saxon and Mexican influences to build a more autonomous identity.

However, in practice, the country remains a U.S. backyard, with an economy and politics that reflect this subordination.

While Canada seeks alliances with China to reduce its dependence, Mexico remains trapped in a system where economic sovereignty is increasingly becoming an illusion.

The stark reality is that, however painful it may be to accept, Mexico cannot break free from the United States without jeopardizing its stability, its jobs, and its very future.

This dependence is not only economic, but also cultural and political, and this reality, however much it is disguised, is one of the main barriers preventing Mexico from truly taking off without this shadow that ultimately shapes its destiny.

Mexico, Populism, and its Geopolitics

Mexico, Populism, and its Geopolitics

Diego Martín Velázquez Caballero

In modern Mexican history, the six-year terms of Luis Echeverría Álvarez and José López Portillo exemplify how poorly managed sovereignist populism can lead to economic and political disasters with profound consequences.

Echeverría, in particular, was an excessively pragmatic president who adopted a Bonapartist style of governance, concentrating power and acting with a personalistic and authoritarian vision.

His eagerness to assert national sovereignty and challenge foreign influence, in a context of international crisis and the exhaustion of the import substitution model, led him to decisions that deeply damaged the Mexican economy.

The nationalization of the banks, the increase in unsupported public spending, and the confrontation with the United States were symptoms of a populism that prioritized sovereignist rhetoric over the country's economic and social realities.

The result was a serious deterioration of institutions, a crisis of confidence, and soaring inflation, which marked the end of that era and laid the groundwork for a weakened economy.

The lesson of that chapter is that sovereignist populism, when it becomes a strategy of confrontation and self-sufficiency, ends up harming rather than strengthening the nation.

Misunderstood sovereignty, stifled by arrogance and authoritarianism, can cause a collapse that undermines the foundations of the state and social welfare.

Today, this same logic is being repeated in Mexican politics, which continues to risk aligning itself with populist regimes in Latin America.

The perception in the country is that, after the damage caused by governments like those of Echeverría and López Portillo, sovereignist populism is a perilous path that only brings more poverty, insecurity, and a loss of real autonomy.

These governments, with their anti-imperialist rhetoric and eagerness to challenge the United States, end up promoting a dangerous dependency and a weakening of national institutions.

The perception is that the country lives under a low-quality democracy, where elites and powerful vested interests skillfully manipulate discourses of sovereignty and nationalism to maintain their privileges. This type of populism, when combined with authoritarianism, ends up fragmenting social cohesion, perpetuating inequalities, and ultimately consolidating a system of domination that prevents the advancement of a true democracy.

The risk lies in the fact that, in their eagerness to maintain the image of a sovereign and independent state, the country becomes hostage to a discourse that, in reality, favors the elites and local bosses, who use anti-imperialist rhetoric to justify their power and privileges.

This scenario is exacerbated by the escalating violence of the cartel wars and the normalization of authoritarianism, which in Mexico has been on the rise as political and social conservatism has strengthened.

Mexico continues to face the risk of falling into a sovereignist populism that, instead of strengthening its institutional structure and economy, weakens them even further.

True sovereignty requires solid institutions, respect for human rights, and a vision that prioritizes collective well-being over confrontational rhetoric and self-sufficiency.

Only in this way can Mexico overcome the shadows of a past that, disguised as patriotism, has actually been an obstacle to its development and true independence.

Internal Party Discipline

 Internal Party Discipline

Diego Martín Velázquez Caballero

Morena's internal dynamics close the year with a clear struggle between its various factions, openly defying presidential directives that advocate against reelection, nepotism, and cronyism, and promote internal democracy.

Several groups within the party are sending clear signals that they are willing to compete from within, against, or outside of Morena.

This reflects the reality of a party with great political power and the ability to mobilize support, but which lacks solid internal mechanisms to manage competition and guarantee discipline.

Something similar occurred during the decline of the hegemonic PRI, when internal divisions transformed its main strengths into its greatest weakness.

Morena's internal struggle, in the lead-up to the upcoming local and federal elections, is a clear example of what political analysts call the breakdown of the dominant coalition.

Barring an extraordinary event, such as Donald Trump deciding to interfere in the nominations, internal divisions within the party are practically inevitable.

Daniel Cosío Villegas once declared that the PRI could only be defeated by the PRI itself, and it seems this maxim is now being applied to Morena.

Although the electoral and judicial institutions lack the autonomy they boasted in recent years, the division among the various internal factions foreshadows a fierce battle for control of the nominations.

In this context, polls or the legal challenges to the processes seem insignificant compared to the intensity of this competition.

Meanwhile, the opposition parties remain vigilant regarding Morena's internal fractures, seeking to exploit them by poaching or strategically recruiting candidates with greater potential.

This has unleashed a wave of political defection, party migrations, and fierce competition among the different groups within the movement.

The country has failed to consolidate an institutionalized, balanced, and pluralistic party system.

Factionalism within the ruling party continues to dictate the course of crucial issues such as the alternation of power, democratization, public policy development, and even a possible shift toward conservative positions.

On the other hand, while arrangements for the presidential succession are already focused on 2030, the aspirants and their political allies are positioning themselves well in advance.

This means that the legislative majority will have neither the strength nor the weakness that Claudia Sheinbaum currently anticipates.

The Eternal Mexican Dark Ages

 The Eternal Mexican Dark Ages

Diego Martín Velázquez Caballero

When reflecting on the history and political reality of Mexico, one cannot help but feel that the nation, in its quest to consolidate itself as a political community, remains trapped in a kind of perpetual Dark Ages.

The comparison with historical examples such as Attila, Genghis Khan, or the Confederates of the southern United States in the 19th century is illustrative: all of them were defeated by the centralized force of a state, a monarchy, or a strong government that managed to impose order, control, and unity.

In the Mexican case, however, this confrontation has never effectively materialized.

Here, the local strongmen and the Catholic Church, with its clericalized vision of the Motherland, tenaciously oppose the idea of ​​a modern nation, a political community based on rights, equality, and popular sovereignty.

In Latin America, and in Mexico in particular, the tendency to fragment the political community into regional micronationalisms, cultural tribes, and outdated power relations hinders the construction of a cohesive nation.

The local strongmen, with their local power and territorial control, wield an authority that does not seek integration into a common project, but rather the perpetuation of their homeland, their lineage, and their particular interests.

Catholicism, both institutional and social, in its feudal, curialized vision, reinforces this fragmentation by promoting a community of the faithful who obey and obey, instead of citizens who participate in and build a collective destiny. This scenario is reminiscent of ancient societies where feudal power reigned, where loyalty was not directed toward a political community, but toward a local lord, a family tradition, or a religious authority; loyalty was servitude and vassalage.

The modern nation, on the other hand, requires a common narrative, a shared identity founded on citizenship, rights, and popular sovereignty.

But in Mexico, this narrative has yet to take hold, and instead, fragmented stories persist, fueling micronationalism, loyalty to region, family, or the church, to the detriment of a national project.

This conflict of identities and loyalties is evident in the persistence of historical privileges, castes, special legal statuses, economic agreements, and old power structures that, instead of facilitating integration, further fragment the State.

The history of viceroyalties, regional privileges, and pacts of convenience shows how local elites prefer to maintain their homeland, their ancestral power, rather than join the nation that requires a project of unity and progress.

Examples like Genghis Khan, Attila, or the Confederates of the American South teach us that empires and strong states managed to impose their order through centralization and force, defeating the old fragmented structures.

In Mexico, however, this confrontation has not yet occurred.

The reason is that the local strongmen and the Church, with their narratives of the Motherland and their clericalized vision, have managed to maintain their power in a latent state, resisting any attempt at confrontation with the national state. In this perpetual Mexican Dark Age, no one wants to challenge these power structures.

The region, in its eagerness to maintain its privileges, resists the construction of a sovereign, modern, and civic nation.

The consequence is a kind of stagnation, a fragmented community living on ancient myths and loyalties, incapable of moving toward true integration.

As in feudal societies, loyalty is directed toward lords, lineages, or institutions that, in reality, hinder the creation of a strong and unified state.

Mexican history and politics seem condemned to an endless struggle between the forces that seek centralization and unity, and those that want to preserve their particular Motherland.

The defeat of the Confederates and their warlords in the past was achieved thanks to the strength of the centralized state.

Mexico needs, now more than ever, that confrontation that will break the cycle of the Middle Ages and build a modern nation, where the political community is a space of rights, equality, and popular sovereignty.