Instability. The word is synonymous with the condition of Mexico in 1844—and had been ever since it attained independence from Spain in 1821. Mexico was a society torn by conflicts of loyalty and interests. Part of this stemmed from its fragmented culture, a mixture of the Aztec and the Spanish. In contrast to the United States, where English colonists replaced rather than mixed with the indigenous Indians, Spain superimposed its authority and customs on the natives, thus forming a Mexican society that was a blend of Spanish and Aztec. As the Spaniards had brought few women, Mexicans of undiluted Spanish ancestry were distinctly in the minority. By 1844 two million of Mexico’s seven million residents were mestizos (persons of mixed blood) and four million were Indians, which left only about one million Mexicans of purely Spanish lineage.
Race as such, however, was of little importance to Mexican society in this period. Place of origin—whether one was Spanish-born (Gachupine) or Mexican-born (Creole)—was far more important. The “upper-crust” Gachupines and their immediate offspring tended not to dirty their hands, it is fair to say, so real political power had long since drifted away from them. Every Mexican president up to this time had come from a single group: Creole generals.
The Spanish political infrastructure, though it provided stability, had never been fully accepted by the population, and governmental control had always been tenuous, especially among the Indians and the poor. During the years of Spanish rule, which ended in 1821, order had been maintained by the armed might of the viceroy. But the viceroy’s military forces were manned and led almost exclusively by Creoles; Spain had ruled Mexico largely by using Mexican mercenaries in the pay of the Crown.
By exercising authority over the masses, it was only logical that the Creole elite should become creatures of privilege. Both the Roman Catholic Church and the army enjoyed the fuero, immunity from the authority of the courts. The Church amassed vast wealth, but at the same time it performed services for the people; the great, ornate cathedrals provided the poor with their only glimpse of beauty, and the small humble chapels were centers of community and devotion. Thus it was aptly said that every Mexican had two homes, his hovel and his place of worship. But at the top levels of the Church the hierarchy had succumbed to secular practices, preoccupied with preserving its own status in the chaos that was Mexico.
Though powerful in political affairs, the army was a weak fighting force. Its show troops, especially its spectacular cavalry, were capable of putting on great pageantry in Mexico City, thus giving the population a false sense of security, but most of the fighting in the many small internecine wars had long been conducted by ill-trained conscripts, who fought periodically for one general or another. With no emphasis on professionalism—and with the Army’s preoccupation with political power—it is not surprising that the officer class was innocent of technical military matters. And discipline, while severe on the soldiers, was a joke where their leaders were concerned.*
By the beginning of the nineteenth century, inequities between rich and poor, between the privileged and the downtrodden, had become an unbearable burden on the less favored citizens of Mexico. Rebellion against the Gachupines broke out in 1810, when a poor parish priest, Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla, was induced to join a group of revolutionary officers in Querétaro who were plotting against the viceroy. Hidalgo was a man of great personal magnetism, and he soon became its leader. At first successful in his efforts, he proclaimed Mexican independence in September 1810.
But Hidalgo, in common with most visionaries, lacked a sense of political reality; he thought that the Indians would protect the rights and persons of the Creoles while rising against the Gachupines—and this assumption turned out to be a grave error. After seizing Guanajuato, Hidalgo’s Indians slaughtered all whites in the city, whether of Mexican or Spanish birth. Hidalgo himself seemed incapable of controlling his followers and began showing signs of instability. The revolution lost support, and his followers deserted. On January 1811 Hidalgo was captured at Chihuahua and was soon executed. His head was displayed on a post in Guanajuato for ten years.
Soon after Hidalgo’s death another populist priest, José María Moreles y Pavón, assumed leadership of the rebellion. More capable and realistic than Hidalgo, Moreles denounced Spain, defined his objectives, and managed to last, with many ups and down, until his own capture and execution in 1815.
The revolution finally succeeded, in 1821, not because of the backing of the masses but because of the disenchantment of the favored, who feared that a recent liberalization of the home government in Spain might deprive them of some of their privileges in Mexico. Agustín Iturbide, a Mexican officer in the service of the viceroy, simply changed sides, taking his soldiers with him. In issuing the Plan of Iguala he pronounced three guarantees: (1) the continuation of the Catholic Church, (2) the independence of Mexico from Spain, and (3) the union in Mexico of Gachupines and Creoles. Soon Iturbide was joined by Vicente Guerrero, a true anti-Spanish rebel.
Mexican independence was assured when the United States took the lead in recognizing her as a sovereign country, the first country to do so. However, since the Plan of Iguala had called for a constitutional monarchy, and since Mexico could not find a suitable Spanish nobleman to come and rule, Iturbide declared himself emperor. This last act was his undoing; within a year he was ousted from power and exiled. On his ill-advised return to Mexico in 1824 he was caught and executed.
The revolution—or revolutions—had devastated Mexico. Violence had cost six hundred thousand lives, and Mexico’s industry had been destroyed. In addition, with the removal of Spanish authority, virtual anarchy prevailed. Of the presidents of Mexico between 1821 and 1844, only one, Guadalupe Victoria, managed to serve out his full four years.† And even he sustained a revolution during his last days in office—a young Santa Anna was among the instigators—though Victoria was allowed to finish out his term. It was this chronic condition of anarchy that had allowed Santa Anna periodically to seize power.