Are you trying to get this thread booted to chat-realm? Drop the current politics.
Oh and,
>being this offended by the statement "reprisal killings are bad"
Al Grito de Guerra: the Second Mexican Revolution
- Thread starter Roberto El Rey
- Start date
Oh and,
>being this offended by the statement "reprisal killings are bad"
so...
you believe that it is only right and moral that the ruling class has a monopoly on violence?
this is, quite frankly, idealist.
i care more about restorative justice for the victims of tyranny than making nice with the people who wanted to destroy you.
as marx said, "when our turn comes we shall make no excuses for the terror"
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Bookmark1995
Banned
Uh...
I'm just gonna say that life is way too complicated for such simple declarative statements and leave it at that.
Time to take it over to current politics, lads. Oh, and you might want to watch this thread for the next couple of minutes. 
Epilogue
September 15, 2000
Mexico City
Mexico City
Cuauhtémoc Cárdenas had been here before, though it had been a long time.
Had it really been twelve years? No, it couldn’t have been. He remembered it all so clearly—the scorching heat, the oppressive, late-summer sun, the grief crushing him like a mountain of granite. But most of all, he remembered the rage. The blinding, convulsing, spasm-inducing, all-consuming rage. His own rage—at being cheated out of power, at his wife’s murder—but also the people’s rage. Rage at being cheated, at being lied to, and being taken for fools. The rage of a people that had been abused, robbed, and deceived year after year, decade after decade, by the same pack of criminals. The bloodlust of a battered dog that growls silently at its master and dreams of one day turning around, baring its teeth and tearing flesh from bone.
Cuauhtémoc had felt that rage. He had seen it in their eyes. He had known its power. It had disturbed him, and he had taken to the stage to calm it down. But he had lost control of himself. He had let his rage consume him. For a single moment, this satanic, volatile rage had found in him its earthly instrument. Instead of calming his supporters’ lust for revenge, he had told them to unleash fountains of blood—fountains of blood—from the necks of their enemies. For a single moment, he had held his nation’s future in his hands, and with a single speech, he had set it aflame.
Everything that had happened in Mexico since then—the autumn of terrors, the recession, the killing of Salinas, the fascistic hell of the Bartlett years—all of it could be traced back to that speech. For years, Cuauhtémoc had blamed himself for all of the death and bloodshed. Why hadn’t he been more careful with his words? Why hadn’t he had urged caution, restraint, and nonviolence, like he had planned to do?
Day after day, year after year, as he watched his country slide down the path of damnation, the guilt had paralyzed him. Time and time again he had felt the urge to get back into politics, to be a leader, but every time he had resisted. When asked, he’d said he was still struggling with the grief, which was true. But really, he’d resisted because he feared the damage he might cause if he were ever given any kind of power again. What if he lost control? What if another speech went wrong? What if…
Celeste.
Twelve years later, she was still there. Every time he blinked, for half a second, there she was, her eyes gazing lovingly into his. Time had dulled and buried the pain, but had not erased it, and being up here on this stage so many years later sharpened its edges. He closed his eyes for a moment to appreciate her beauty. If he had urged caution and restraint, maybe things would have been quieter that day. But would he have done right by her memory to let her killers off that easy?
Suddenly he snapped back to reality. He remembered where he was: at a public ceremony to initiate him into the very office for which Celeste had been killed. He felt the presence of the TV cameras, the gentle breeze, the vast sea of supporters standing before him. To take his mind off Celeste, he started scanning the faces of the people around him.
To his left was Porfirio Muñoz Ledo, standing at the podium and delivering the last speech of his presidency in his rich, thundering baritone. He’d been a good president. Actually, he’d been a great president, the kind of President they wrote legends about. Cuauhtémoc couldn’t help but feel the tiniest twinge of jealousy. Hadn’t he been the one who was going to lay the foundation for liberty and democracy? Hadn’t he been the one who was destined to ride in on a white stallion and save Mexico from itself?
He sighed. Well, yes, perhaps. But could he really have done it? As Mayor, he’d watched Porfirio work his fingers to the bone trying to change the system, and that was after the PRI had degenerated into a burning pile of excrement. Things had been bad in 1988, but that was nothing compared to the nightmare of the Bartlett years. To take on el sistema back then, when it still had most of its strength? It wouldn’t have been suicidal, but he’d have had his work cut out for him.
He shifted his gaze. There was Sergio Aguayo, the Tlatoani, the unlikely hero of tomorrow. Soft-spoken and serene with wire-rimmed spectacles and elephant ears, the man looked more like a librarian than a politician. But, as Cuauhtémoc had learned, behind those wire rims there burned a fire, a passion for justice as hard and immutable as a block of Spanish marble. Every time he and Sergio shared a conversation, Cuauhtémoc left the room struck dumb by awe and admiration; he could only hope that he would never have to confront the Tlatoani in his presidential capacity.
He shifted his gaze again. There was Henry Cisneros. Cuauhtémoc looked forward to working with the U.S. President, having met him a couple of times as Mayor and found him to be endlessly affable and respectful. Of course, there was a chance that he wouldn’t be around much longer—every poll put him ahead of Governor Wilson by at least ten percentage points, but if Cuauhtémoc knew anything about American politics, it was that you never knew what was going to happen next week, let alone next year. But he wasn’t worried. In any case, as President of the new Mexico, the most he would ever have to do was shake hands and look good at a state dinner, so it really didn't matter all that much to him who occupied the Oval Office.
He looked away from the distinguished guests and out into the crowd. It truly was an ocean of humanity, filling every inch of space from the Portal de Mercaderes to the Palacio Nacional and spilling out into the streets. He scanned the surface, pausing to gaze at the children hoisted up on their parents’ shoulders, the Kodaks and Canons raised up high to get a better shot, the signs held aloft with sweet slogans of love and support. He looked into hundreds of thousands of faces, half-expecting to see balled fists, clenched jaws, eyes full of spite, signs of that same blood-soaked, hateful rage. But he didn’t. The hands he could see were clasped in grateful prayer. The jaws were relaxed, some lips even drawn back into smiles. And the eyes he saw were filled not with hate but with hope—an anxious, longing, insecure hope, but a hope nonetheless. Hope that after years and years of pain, of anguish, of lies, of fear and broken promises, something good had finally come. Silent in his seat, Cuauhtémoc wondered to himself how many of them had been here with him all those years ago, and whether they were pleased with what they saw today.
Cuauhtémoc suddenly sensed that it was time for him to get up. Looking over, he saw Porfirio winding up his speech and tuned in just in time to catch the last few words: “…the citizen President of the United Mexican States, Cuauhtémoc Cárdenas Solorzano!”
Cuauhtémoc rose from his seat, the applause so loud he could feel it rattling the soles of his shoes. He shook Porfirio’s hand, feeling a slight chill as his predecessor removed the presidential sash and draped it over his shoulder.
He turned to the podium. On it was an attractive piece of stationery with the oath of office printed in neat, richly-ornamented font. Aside from a few tweaks, it was the same oath every president had taken since Madero—there had been some talk during the Convention of replacing it entirely, but the words were pretty enough on their own, even if they had rarely been respected.
Cuauhtémoc waited for the applause to die down, then raised his right arm and began:
“I hereby swear to honor the Millennial Constitution of the United Mexican States and the laws emanating thereof, and to ensure that they are honored.”
He stared into the crowd in fear that the hope, that beautiful hope of theirs, might already be fading away. But he found no such sign. With every word, the eyes seemed to widen and the smiles seemed to grow.
“…I swear to loyally and patriotically carry out the responsibilities conferred upon me by the people, thinking at all times of the good and the prosperity of the Union.”
Suddenly he saw Celeste one last time. But this time, she was different. This time, she wasn’t simply loving. She was imploring. Her eyes were filled with longing, a deep longing that seemed to ask, “was my sacrifice worth it? Did your speech really change things for the better?”
Cuauhtémoc paused his oath for a moment and looked out one last time at the mass of humanity. He noticed a small child hovering above the crowd on her mother’s shoulders, just a few meters away from the stage. She was too young to understand what was happening or why she was watching it. But by the youthful wonder in her eyes, Cuauhtémoc could tell she knew that whatever it was, it was important, and it was good.
He blinked to force back a tear and there was Celeste, still staring back at him expectantly. Still silent, he answered her question: I don’t know yet. I don't know yet if it was worth it or not. But I’m going to fight like hell for the rest of my life to make sure it is—and I won’t be fighting alone.
He smiled. Celeste smiled back and then, for one, last time, she faded away.
He looked back down at the page, opened his mouth and finished the oath.
“…And if I were not to carry out these duties with honor and solemnity, may the Nation and all of its children demand it of me.”
And so be it.
THE END
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Probably learned more about Modern Mexico from this than anywhere else. Superb, my friend
Wonderful epilogue for a wonderful TL.
As I said earlier in the thread (much earlier), I don't have much in-depth knowledge of Mexican politics, so I wasn't able to really deeply analyze or consider the plausibility of events, but this was never a hindrance to my enjoyment of the TL. It always rang true to me. But more than that, it was surprisingly informative, for the way it not only examined a turbulent period but brought other, lesser-known figures to the forefront. I certainly hadn't heard of Manuel Bartlett, for example, before this TL; and while his is obviously not a sympathetic portrayal, I still feel like I've learned a bit about his character and career. It's the sort of roundabout education that only alternate history can do.
Definitely one of the best TLs I've read in my time here. Congrats on the finish, and thanks for doing this in the first place.
As I said earlier in the thread (much earlier), I don't have much in-depth knowledge of Mexican politics, so I wasn't able to really deeply analyze or consider the plausibility of events, but this was never a hindrance to my enjoyment of the TL. It always rang true to me. But more than that, it was surprisingly informative, for the way it not only examined a turbulent period but brought other, lesser-known figures to the forefront. I certainly hadn't heard of Manuel Bartlett, for example, before this TL; and while his is obviously not a sympathetic portrayal, I still feel like I've learned a bit about his character and career. It's the sort of roundabout education that only alternate history can do.
Definitely one of the best TLs I've read in my time here. Congrats on the finish, and thanks for doing this in the first place.
Fantastic ending! It's been a long, wild ride, and after the corruption of President Thief, the authoritarianism of President Asshole, and the general chaos of PRI's flailing, Mexico finally has a competent, decent human being as the President she deserves.
Amazing timeline. Can't believe it's come to an end. Learned a lot about Mexico and its politics. Great ending
Do you think to make an epilogue explaining things after Cárdenas’ election (as Huntsman and Castaneda presidencies)?
Bookmark1995
Banned
This TL was really good.
The best alternate history stories can teach you a lot about OTL history, by making you aware of things you never knew.
I knew Mexico was a poor country, but I had no idea that up until recently, it was basically a banana republic in social democratic clothing. And that the corruption got so bad, the wife of the political opposition being assasinated was a real possibility. It really boggles the mind that something like that could happen just south of the American border.
I really love Cuauhtemoc's Cardenas monologue.
Despite my dispute with @Mr. C , I do agree that sometimes, armed resistance is necessary. But I dread me or myself dying in battle, as armed action is never something to be taken lightly.
The fact that Cuauhtemoc can consider the sacrifices of others, the blood that can be lost, and can still mourn his wife proves why he deserves more than anyone to rule Mexico: although he can make tough decisions, he can consider the human cost before making them. The world would be a better place is more people like this were in charge.
I can picture Cuauhtemoc seeing his father's ghost in the sky, smiling down from above.
Make me proud, hijo!
Thank you so much for writing this.
The best alternate history stories can teach you a lot about OTL history, by making you aware of things you never knew.
I knew Mexico was a poor country, but I had no idea that up until recently, it was basically a banana republic in social democratic clothing. And that the corruption got so bad, the wife of the political opposition being assasinated was a real possibility. It really boggles the mind that something like that could happen just south of the American border.
I really love Cuauhtemoc's Cardenas monologue.
Despite my dispute with @Mr. C , I do agree that sometimes, armed resistance is necessary. But I dread me or myself dying in battle, as armed action is never something to be taken lightly.
The fact that Cuauhtemoc can consider the sacrifices of others, the blood that can be lost, and can still mourn his wife proves why he deserves more than anyone to rule Mexico: although he can make tough decisions, he can consider the human cost before making them. The world would be a better place is more people like this were in charge.
I can picture Cuauhtemoc seeing his father's ghost in the sky, smiling down from above.
Make me proud, hijo!
Thank you so much for writing this.
To the author, I want to commend you for creating such a wonderful, rich, and detailed timeline. it has been a joy to follow the journey, with your writing being quite evocative and emotional to me. The epilogue was a terrific ending to the story, raw and sobering, yet still ending on a high note. It may not be an easy road for TTL's Mexico, with hardships on the way, yet there's new hope on the horizon for a freer and fairer country.
I also want to applaud you for developing a timeline about a relatively uncommon subject like Mexico on this website, being that Latin America is often glossed over due to the language barrier and of course people not being familiar with it, understandably, but being from a Hispanic country myself I feel pride for the shared culture and feel happy for TTL's Mexico, much like I hold hopes for Mexico in OTL, a country with enormous potential that still can someday fulfill it.
I'm deeply impressed by the effort and care put into the story. I want to thank you for your work and your creativity.
Muchas gracias por el esmero, compañero. Y como dice la canción, "El pueblo unido, jamás será vencido".
I also want to applaud you for developing a timeline about a relatively uncommon subject like Mexico on this website, being that Latin America is often glossed over due to the language barrier and of course people not being familiar with it, understandably, but being from a Hispanic country myself I feel pride for the shared culture and feel happy for TTL's Mexico, much like I hold hopes for Mexico in OTL, a country with enormous potential that still can someday fulfill it.
I'm deeply impressed by the effort and care put into the story. I want to thank you for your work and your creativity.
Muchas gracias por el esmero, compañero. Y como dice la canción, "El pueblo unido, jamás será vencido".
The 1992 explosion wasn't so much butterflied away so much as delayed by a bit—they would have happened not long after the Salamanca refinery explosion if not for the investigation. It's a little counterintuitive in terms of the timing of the story, especially because with the lack of oversight or STPRM, you'd expect the explosion to happen earlier rather than later. But this is one instance where I had to deploy a little bit of handwavium in order to make things fit in terms of the timeline. Let's just say that by dumb luck, there is a near-disaster at the refinery sometime in 1990 that scares management enough to fix the immediate problem and avoid getting blown up, which delays the big explosion for a couple of years.
By around 1992, the Frente is essentially extinct ITTL. Even though many frentistas end up being members of ED, there isn't really a continuous link between the two parties.
Didn't get around to mentioning it in the update, but John Paul II visits in 1996 to great fanfare.
I don't have an extremely detailed paper, but I based that on this section from p. 356 of Opening Mexico: the Making of a Democracy by Julia Preston and Sam Dillon:
"[When the opposition majority in 1997 tried to determine the correct procedures to bring the Chamber of Deputies into session], they found, quite simply, that there were no procedures: the rules had been written on the assumption that the PRI would control the Chamber of Deputies the Senate forever. In fact, without a PRI majority, they discovered, it was technically impossible to bring the new chamber into session."
You're making me blush!
Much as I would love to say that everything is perfect from here on out, I think it'll be more satisfying to make things realistically imperfect and flawed, but still inspiring and a clear improvement on what came before.
It's 100 3-member districts. ED wins 3 seats in 33 districts, 2 seats in 36 districts, 1 seat in 18 districts in 0 seats in 15 districts. It also wins 53% of the party-list vote, bringing its total up to 295. Thank you for your detailed analysis!
Not an epilogue per se, but I will be posting some additional information, including leaders' lists, on my test thread. Keep an eye on there for more updates in the near future. I actually just posted a list of Mexican presidents up through 2021!