“Dying is nothing when the homeland dies.” José María Morelos y Pavón
Just as the transcendent in life, the great dates deserve deep reflections.
Hence this space dedicated to delving into the independence of 1810 and its scope in an overflowed Mexico for violence, insecurity and impunity.
Like many historians and defenders of memory, what I most admire about independence is that, despite its more than 215 years of age and survive three governments opposed to each other, the commemoration of the armed uprising and the mythical ritual of the cry are maintained as the most decisive milestone of the nation. Also that the cult of Hidalgo, Morelos, Allende and Aldama, has only been “remastered” with the mentions of Leona Vicario and Josefa Ortiz, product of the gender equity of the last decade.
In an era where the most normal is the change, the validity of this patriotic call forces us to question us: how do the values of a nation be “eternalized” so as not to get lost? How are civic symbols that “twin” citizens establish and institutionalize? What is the formula to mix the old with the new and make the speeches continue to work?
Concentrating on these issues leads me to an obvious whereabouts. There is nothing more to read history and review the press to identify that a good part of the roots that Mexicans profess for independence today, obeys Porfirio Díaz deciding to celebrate his centenary and commission the sculptural cycle and a large column to the architect and then director of the Academy of San Carlos, Antonio Rivas Mercado.
To a large extent, Don Porfirio did this in a desperate attempt to hang on the centenary and his celebrations to perpetuate himself in a power he already had lost. For Díaz the winged figure was half, not an end. What he never imagined was that the strength of the artistic whole minimized his and survived the regime that he believed eternal.
Become “the symbol” of Mexico, the angel is the independence that has united us for decades, the same for the celebration and civic acts, which to erect as the official receptacle of the complaint and the drama of the nation.
Magic, legendary and beloved, almost 115 years after its inauguration, the angel becomes increasingly representative: with just seeing it, we can visualize Miguel Hidalgo by calling the uprising and Morelos preparing to embody the greatest strategist and specify freedom.
The funny thing is that no other president has replicated Díaz’s ability to establish such a successful symbol. The only comparable ones could be the speeches of the first governments of the revolution and the launch of muralism and the Mexican School of Painting or the emblematic Legislative Palace of López and Portillo, supposed symbol of democracy in Mexico, but also of presidentialism and the PRI.
Speaking of dates and badges, I cannot fail to mention the darkness of the unfortunate “Estela de Luz” by Felipe Calderón and his even more bleak to the victims of violence in Mexico.
Well thought in terms of the reality that began to live during his six -year period, I doubt that Calderón has imagined the insufficiency and paradoxical of the symbol he built to denounce a violence that would end up getting out of his hands.
Opened by Pena Nieto in 2013, the memorial says a lot about the way our values have changed. Of the celebration to the acceptance of the aberrant. The disappearance as a daily event and the pain of the families of the disappeared, a constant that comes to remind us that things cannot, nor should they continue.
Let’s celebrate independence with the commitment to ensure the values that inspired her and that in no way coincide with what we live today.
New and more encouraging symbols are urgent. In many cases the actions arrive with them.
