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The March for Democracy: Falling in Love With López Obrador
Mexico City.- Some of his supporters already call him Señor
Presidente or Mr. President. Although, according to the Federal
Electoral Institute’s official result of the July 2nd presidential election,
Lopez Obrador lost the election to conservative Felipe Calderon by
some 244,000 votes, but for the majority of his followers he is the
real winner, and therefore their virtual president. And that is why, as
he was addressing the crowd on July 16th at the Zócalo Plaza in
Mexico City, some of the hundreds of thousands souls who filled the
city’s downtown square replied to his statements, with a cheerful,
submissive “Yes, Mr. President!”
López Obrador’s speech that Sunday was the climax and the
culmination of what was deemed “The march for democracy,” a
multitudinous gathering of people that was set in motion four days
earlier, when people from practically all over the country began
making their way into Mexico City, and its main plaza, the Zócalo.
Some six thousand of López Obrador’s followers were estimated to
have been there since Saturday, waiting for the big day, and for a
chance to see their candidate and “president.” But before he arrived
at the Zócalo to deliver his speech, thousands of people had also
gathered next to the Museum of Anthropology on Sunday, 5.5 miles
southwest of the Zócalo, where the march, the candidate and his
contingent were to officially begin the demonstration at 11:00 a.m.
Outside of the museum, the statue of Tlaloc, the Aztec god of rain, –
a 23-foot tall, and 168-ton imposing monolith– stood out over the
group of people that quickly became a multitude. The view of the
ancient idol among the bright yellow color of the flags, the shirts and
the signs, the characteristic color of López Obrador’s party and his
supporters, created a magnificent blending of ancient history and
contemporary newness that reveal Mexico’s strong identity.
There, at the feet of Tlaloc, a woman fruit vendor, next to her no less
colorful stand of bags of fresh, mixed pieces of cucumbers,
watermelons, and mangoes, spontaneously and timidly asked this
writer: “So, what do you think about the result of the election?” She
turned out to be less assuming and more assertive than the majority
of the people, who openly and emotionally affirm that the July 2nd
presidential election was rigged and fraudulent. When some
demonstrators saw BARRIOZONA’s representative, they demanded
from him, a bit aggressively, to “tell the truth.” Their request would
evolve more and more into an angry complaint, when they saw the
trucks transporting reporters and photographers from national and
international newspapers and magazines. “Sell out media!” they
yelled out at them.
Perceiving that mainstream media in Mexico has wrongly portrayed
them, they were not at ease when they spotted people with photo
cameras, notebooks, and badges. “Look, I come from Mexicali, Baja
California” –a well dressed lady told BARRIOZONA. “Nobody paid me
to come all the way here, but in Mexicali I know the National Action
Party (PAN) was paying up to $1,500.00 pesos (approximately
$150.00 US dollars) for people to vote for their candidate.” A young
man, who claimed to be a college student, got in the conversation
saying that he knew of cases in Mexico City where the PAN was
paying $200.00 pesos to people who were willing to cast their vote
for Felipe Calderón, the candidate who according to the Federal
Electoral Institute’s result won the election. “Tell the truth!” –they
insisted.
Emotions went from one extreme to the other on Avenida Reforma,
the main route where marchers walked that morning toward the
Zócalo. Reforma has become a traditional spot for Mexican citizens to
gather, either to celebrate or protest. Most protest rallies, such as
this one, commonly go along Reforma from the Museum of
Anthropology to the Zócalo, or from the Statue of the Angel of
Independence to the Zócalo or to “Los Pinos,” the presidential house.
On the south side of the avenue, where contingents of people were
heading to the Zócalo already, another lady, a native of Mexico City,
was looking at two pictures she was holding in her left hand. One
showed Luis Carlos Ugalde, president of the Federal Electoral
Institute, and the other one, Benito Juarez, the only full-blooded
Zapotec Amerindian to serve as President of Mexico. She was
comparing the pictures –she told BARRIOZONA– because some one
told her the men in the pictures look alike. “How can they look alike?”
she asks. “This one (Ugalde) looks mean; Juarez looks like a good
man.” She believes the similarity isn’t between Ugalde and Juarez,
but in Juarez and López Obrador. “López Obrador has the ideas –
she says – but also a tender face, look, and expression. That’s how
he earns people’s affection, and why most people love him.”
What was supposed to be a social demonstration in support of
López Obrador turned out to be a colorful parade, a folk festival,
almost a political carnival plethoric of expressions of love for the
center-left candidate, and insults for current president Vicente Fox,
conservative candidate Felipe Calderón, and Luis Ugalde. The
mentada de madre, the worst insult possible in Mexico, was chanted
in imaginative rhymes to accuse these men of fraud. To Andrés
Manuel López Obrador in contrast, people expressed their feelings
by combining his name initials – AMLO – in a kind phrase: “AMLO TE
AMO” or “AMLO I love you.” Words of hate and love were rolling out
of people’s mouths indistinctly on this sunny day, where marchers
used their same imaginative talent of rhyming phrases to dress in no
less creative ways.
The bright yellow color dominated the landscape, but among the
crowd, original costumes, impressive masks, allegoric cars, shirts and
signs, added a vibrant touch to an event that was as peaceful as
multicolored. Men in stilts walked at a fast pace, while others used
the occasion and the live music to dance. Young people wore skull
masks or masks depicting the faces of infamous politicians. Some
men carried a casket-like box, suggesting democracy was dead after
the supposed electoral fraud. A couple wore masks of president Fox
and his wife Martha. They would kiss occasionally, reenacting the
highly publicized kiss Fox and “Martita”, as she’s called, gave each
other on their wedding day. The man wearing Fox’s mask also held
two signs, one with a cartoon-like image of López Obrador and the
legend: “PRESIDENT LOPEZ OBRADOR,” and the other with what has
became Lopez Obrador’s follower’s political slogan: “NO AL PINCHE
FRAUDE” or “No to the damn fraud.”
The marchers and bystanders’ excitement exploded when López
Obrador appeared walking through the middle of Reforma Avenue,
surrounded by an army of people, and protected by two layers of
volunteers’ rows, who made sure nobody came near him. Wearing a
tan jacket and a white shirt, the 53-year old man from Tabasco,
Mexico, seemed relaxed and confident, smiling and waving at those
who desperately called his attention. By then, Reforma was packed
on both sides of the avenue, the crowd being so thick it caused
López Obrador and his contingent to stop and wait at times. A
woman, using a microphone and a speaker, asked people who were
standing on the middle of the streets to move to the sides,
reminding them of one important goal: “López Obrador has to make
it to the Zócalo!”
Slowly, the candidate and the crowd following behind him were
finally able to enter Avenida Juarez, and then after a more difficult
struggle – squeezed into Avenida Francisco I. Madero, a one lane
street– heading directly into the Plaza de la Constitution, the Zócalo’
s official name. López Obrador’s followers were yelling, chanting
frenetically, playing drums and trumpets, reacting emotionally at his
very sight. There was the man that embodies their hopes,
personifies their needs, and gives them a face and a voice. The man
who they said reminds them of Juarez, whose skin color is the same
as theirs, and whose humble looks make him desirable, charismatic,
powerful, and, most essentially, one of them. His people evidently
love him. The only explainable human expression to understand such
a spontaneous and overwhelming demonstration, is love; love for
López Obrador.
The Zócalo that welcomed López Obrador’s triumphant entrance was
already packed hours before his arrival. Again, like in other
demonstrations before and after the July 2nd election, he walked
between a metal fence that cut the multitude in half, and lead him
directly onto the stage where he was to give his speech. After
waving several times at the crowd, he stood there, arms crossed, a
smirk, and then a serious look. He waited patiently to take the
microphones that sent his voice throughout the Zócalo. He
expressed his first phrases and paragraphs almost emotionless. He
thanked all for being there, but gave special thanks to “the humble
people, the poor people.”
He called his actions a movement, “our movement.” He assured
again the election’s results were “falsified.” He gave a warning –
almost a threat– to his political opponent, softened at the end with a
poetic metaphor: “the stain of a fraudulent election is not erased
even with all the waters of the oceans.” He insisted that the only
way to settle the social and political unrest is to do a recount “vote
by vote, poll by poll.” He repeated the phrase thirteen times: “vote
by vote, poll by poll, vote by vote, poll by poll, vote by vote, poll by
poll…” The expression became a chant; people cheered
enthusiastically. As López Obrador continued delivering his
discourse, his gesticulations shifted from a friendly look into a defiant
one, the same post-electoral smile-less expression of mixed
emotions observers have noticed in him.
At the same time –coincidently– the bright afternoon’s sun was
covered by a heavy cloudy sky brought by hard winds that also lifted
the vinyl background behind the stage, uncovering the National
Palace. It seemed as if nature was making the crowd have a feeling
of what it would be like to see López Obrador addressing them from
the presidential balcony. The sight was this close from being a
reality, just as the IFE’s official count was this close from making him
the winner.
Minutes after López Obrador finished his speech, the cloudy sky
transformed into a soft, steady rain. The multitude –reportedly more
than a million– began dispersing in all directions, most heading for
the closest subway station that stay open. Demonstrators wrapped
their flags, and walked quietly among the trash-covered pavement,
while garbage collectors began their job, quickly forming big piles of
waste. Disappointed, food and other street vendors wrapped up
their stands prematurely. Perhaps they’ll be luckier on July 30th,
when another mega-march was convened by López Obrador.
Another peaceful demonstration came to an end. Once again, López
Obrador was the lord of the Zócalo, and of the roaring crowd.
Looking at so many people walking away on the streets beneath the
colonial buildings of Mexico City’s historic downtown, the echo of the
words said by the woman who was holding the two pictures in her
hand sealed the ‘march for democracy.’ She had told BARRIOZONA’s
editor earlier that morning: “In Mexico there are more poor people
than rich people. The poor people voted for López Obrador. So you
tell me: who do you think won the election?”
Presidente or Mr. President. Although, according to the Federal
Electoral Institute’s official result of the July 2nd presidential election,
Lopez Obrador lost the election to conservative Felipe Calderon by
some 244,000 votes, but for the majority of his followers he is the
real winner, and therefore their virtual president. And that is why, as
he was addressing the crowd on July 16th at the Zócalo Plaza in
Mexico City, some of the hundreds of thousands souls who filled the
city’s downtown square replied to his statements, with a cheerful,
submissive “Yes, Mr. President!”
López Obrador’s speech that Sunday was the climax and the
culmination of what was deemed “The march for democracy,” a
multitudinous gathering of people that was set in motion four days
earlier, when people from practically all over the country began
making their way into Mexico City, and its main plaza, the Zócalo.
Some six thousand of López Obrador’s followers were estimated to
have been there since Saturday, waiting for the big day, and for a
chance to see their candidate and “president.” But before he arrived
at the Zócalo to deliver his speech, thousands of people had also
gathered next to the Museum of Anthropology on Sunday, 5.5 miles
southwest of the Zócalo, where the march, the candidate and his
contingent were to officially begin the demonstration at 11:00 a.m.
Outside of the museum, the statue of Tlaloc, the Aztec god of rain, –
a 23-foot tall, and 168-ton imposing monolith– stood out over the
group of people that quickly became a multitude. The view of the
ancient idol among the bright yellow color of the flags, the shirts and
the signs, the characteristic color of López Obrador’s party and his
supporters, created a magnificent blending of ancient history and
contemporary newness that reveal Mexico’s strong identity.
There, at the feet of Tlaloc, a woman fruit vendor, next to her no less
colorful stand of bags of fresh, mixed pieces of cucumbers,
watermelons, and mangoes, spontaneously and timidly asked this
writer: “So, what do you think about the result of the election?” She
turned out to be less assuming and more assertive than the majority
of the people, who openly and emotionally affirm that the July 2nd
presidential election was rigged and fraudulent. When some
demonstrators saw BARRIOZONA’s representative, they demanded
from him, a bit aggressively, to “tell the truth.” Their request would
evolve more and more into an angry complaint, when they saw the
trucks transporting reporters and photographers from national and
international newspapers and magazines. “Sell out media!” they
yelled out at them.
Perceiving that mainstream media in Mexico has wrongly portrayed
them, they were not at ease when they spotted people with photo
cameras, notebooks, and badges. “Look, I come from Mexicali, Baja
California” –a well dressed lady told BARRIOZONA. “Nobody paid me
to come all the way here, but in Mexicali I know the National Action
Party (PAN) was paying up to $1,500.00 pesos (approximately
$150.00 US dollars) for people to vote for their candidate.” A young
man, who claimed to be a college student, got in the conversation
saying that he knew of cases in Mexico City where the PAN was
paying $200.00 pesos to people who were willing to cast their vote
for Felipe Calderón, the candidate who according to the Federal
Electoral Institute’s result won the election. “Tell the truth!” –they
insisted.
Emotions went from one extreme to the other on Avenida Reforma,
the main route where marchers walked that morning toward the
Zócalo. Reforma has become a traditional spot for Mexican citizens to
gather, either to celebrate or protest. Most protest rallies, such as
this one, commonly go along Reforma from the Museum of
Anthropology to the Zócalo, or from the Statue of the Angel of
Independence to the Zócalo or to “Los Pinos,” the presidential house.
On the south side of the avenue, where contingents of people were
heading to the Zócalo already, another lady, a native of Mexico City,
was looking at two pictures she was holding in her left hand. One
showed Luis Carlos Ugalde, president of the Federal Electoral
Institute, and the other one, Benito Juarez, the only full-blooded
Zapotec Amerindian to serve as President of Mexico. She was
comparing the pictures –she told BARRIOZONA– because some one
told her the men in the pictures look alike. “How can they look alike?”
she asks. “This one (Ugalde) looks mean; Juarez looks like a good
man.” She believes the similarity isn’t between Ugalde and Juarez,
but in Juarez and López Obrador. “López Obrador has the ideas –
she says – but also a tender face, look, and expression. That’s how
he earns people’s affection, and why most people love him.”
What was supposed to be a social demonstration in support of
López Obrador turned out to be a colorful parade, a folk festival,
almost a political carnival plethoric of expressions of love for the
center-left candidate, and insults for current president Vicente Fox,
conservative candidate Felipe Calderón, and Luis Ugalde. The
mentada de madre, the worst insult possible in Mexico, was chanted
in imaginative rhymes to accuse these men of fraud. To Andrés
Manuel López Obrador in contrast, people expressed their feelings
by combining his name initials – AMLO – in a kind phrase: “AMLO TE
AMO” or “AMLO I love you.” Words of hate and love were rolling out
of people’s mouths indistinctly on this sunny day, where marchers
used their same imaginative talent of rhyming phrases to dress in no
less creative ways.
The bright yellow color dominated the landscape, but among the
crowd, original costumes, impressive masks, allegoric cars, shirts and
signs, added a vibrant touch to an event that was as peaceful as
multicolored. Men in stilts walked at a fast pace, while others used
the occasion and the live music to dance. Young people wore skull
masks or masks depicting the faces of infamous politicians. Some
men carried a casket-like box, suggesting democracy was dead after
the supposed electoral fraud. A couple wore masks of president Fox
and his wife Martha. They would kiss occasionally, reenacting the
highly publicized kiss Fox and “Martita”, as she’s called, gave each
other on their wedding day. The man wearing Fox’s mask also held
two signs, one with a cartoon-like image of López Obrador and the
legend: “PRESIDENT LOPEZ OBRADOR,” and the other with what has
became Lopez Obrador’s follower’s political slogan: “NO AL PINCHE
FRAUDE” or “No to the damn fraud.”
The marchers and bystanders’ excitement exploded when López
Obrador appeared walking through the middle of Reforma Avenue,
surrounded by an army of people, and protected by two layers of
volunteers’ rows, who made sure nobody came near him. Wearing a
tan jacket and a white shirt, the 53-year old man from Tabasco,
Mexico, seemed relaxed and confident, smiling and waving at those
who desperately called his attention. By then, Reforma was packed
on both sides of the avenue, the crowd being so thick it caused
López Obrador and his contingent to stop and wait at times. A
woman, using a microphone and a speaker, asked people who were
standing on the middle of the streets to move to the sides,
reminding them of one important goal: “López Obrador has to make
it to the Zócalo!”
Slowly, the candidate and the crowd following behind him were
finally able to enter Avenida Juarez, and then after a more difficult
struggle – squeezed into Avenida Francisco I. Madero, a one lane
street– heading directly into the Plaza de la Constitution, the Zócalo’
s official name. López Obrador’s followers were yelling, chanting
frenetically, playing drums and trumpets, reacting emotionally at his
very sight. There was the man that embodies their hopes,
personifies their needs, and gives them a face and a voice. The man
who they said reminds them of Juarez, whose skin color is the same
as theirs, and whose humble looks make him desirable, charismatic,
powerful, and, most essentially, one of them. His people evidently
love him. The only explainable human expression to understand such
a spontaneous and overwhelming demonstration, is love; love for
López Obrador.
The Zócalo that welcomed López Obrador’s triumphant entrance was
already packed hours before his arrival. Again, like in other
demonstrations before and after the July 2nd election, he walked
between a metal fence that cut the multitude in half, and lead him
directly onto the stage where he was to give his speech. After
waving several times at the crowd, he stood there, arms crossed, a
smirk, and then a serious look. He waited patiently to take the
microphones that sent his voice throughout the Zócalo. He
expressed his first phrases and paragraphs almost emotionless. He
thanked all for being there, but gave special thanks to “the humble
people, the poor people.”
He called his actions a movement, “our movement.” He assured
again the election’s results were “falsified.” He gave a warning –
almost a threat– to his political opponent, softened at the end with a
poetic metaphor: “the stain of a fraudulent election is not erased
even with all the waters of the oceans.” He insisted that the only
way to settle the social and political unrest is to do a recount “vote
by vote, poll by poll.” He repeated the phrase thirteen times: “vote
by vote, poll by poll, vote by vote, poll by poll, vote by vote, poll by
poll…” The expression became a chant; people cheered
enthusiastically. As López Obrador continued delivering his
discourse, his gesticulations shifted from a friendly look into a defiant
one, the same post-electoral smile-less expression of mixed
emotions observers have noticed in him.
At the same time –coincidently– the bright afternoon’s sun was
covered by a heavy cloudy sky brought by hard winds that also lifted
the vinyl background behind the stage, uncovering the National
Palace. It seemed as if nature was making the crowd have a feeling
of what it would be like to see López Obrador addressing them from
the presidential balcony. The sight was this close from being a
reality, just as the IFE’s official count was this close from making him
the winner.
Minutes after López Obrador finished his speech, the cloudy sky
transformed into a soft, steady rain. The multitude –reportedly more
than a million– began dispersing in all directions, most heading for
the closest subway station that stay open. Demonstrators wrapped
their flags, and walked quietly among the trash-covered pavement,
while garbage collectors began their job, quickly forming big piles of
waste. Disappointed, food and other street vendors wrapped up
their stands prematurely. Perhaps they’ll be luckier on July 30th,
when another mega-march was convened by López Obrador.
Another peaceful demonstration came to an end. Once again, López
Obrador was the lord of the Zócalo, and of the roaring crowd.
Looking at so many people walking away on the streets beneath the
colonial buildings of Mexico City’s historic downtown, the echo of the
words said by the woman who was holding the two pictures in her
hand sealed the ‘march for democracy.’ She had told BARRIOZONA’s
editor earlier that morning: “In Mexico there are more poor people
than rich people. The poor people voted for López Obrador. So you
tell me: who do you think won the election?”
By Barriozona Staff November 30, 2006
Lopez Obrador's speech was the
climax and the culmination of a
large demonstration deemed
"march for democracy."
Photo: Eduardo Barraza | View Gallery
climax and the culmination of a
large demonstration deemed
"march for democracy."
Photo: Eduardo Barraza | View Gallery
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Published by the Hispanic Institute of Social Issues in Phoenix, Arizona
| HISTORY IS ABOUT TO CHANGE Grassroots Journalism |
ON ASSIGNMENT
Walking the 5.5 miles from the Museum of Anthropology to
the Zocalo Plaza, in Mexico City, BARRIOZONA's editor
Eduardo Barraza saw first hand the social dynamics
surrounding the July 16 march to support presidential
candidate Andres Manuel López Obrador, and experienced
the emotions of hundreds of thousands of his followers in
what will go down as one of the largest social
demonstrations in Mexico's history.
Walking the 5.5 miles from the Museum of Anthropology to
the Zocalo Plaza, in Mexico City, BARRIOZONA's editor
Eduardo Barraza saw first hand the social dynamics
surrounding the July 16 march to support presidential
candidate Andres Manuel López Obrador, and experienced
the emotions of hundreds of thousands of his followers in
what will go down as one of the largest social
demonstrations in Mexico's history.
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