The Death Rattles of a Monopoly

WASHINGTON â€”  Last weekend’s assembly of Mexico’s Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI) was not a made-for-televison event. Indeed, the deliberations exposed the raw feelings and frustrations of delegates in a way that neither of the two main U.S. presidential conventions did--or would dare to. The gathering represented party democracy in action--although that may be an oxymoron when discussing the PRI--and not public relations. One thing was clear: Technocrats, as opposed to party stalwarts, are no longer wanted.

There is no political party quite like the PRI. Every Mexican president since 1929 has been a member and, until a few years ago, so was every state governor. But this monopoly on power has ended; four of Mexico’s current 31 governors are members of the main conservative opposition, the National Action Party (PAN). The mayor of the Federal District, the most populous jurisdiction in the country and the nation’s capital, has always been appointed by the president and, as such, was always a priista. Next year, for the first time, a popular vote will decide the mayoralty, and polls show the PAN candidate is likely to win. Because of recent changes in federal electoral laws, the odds are good that the PRI will even lose next year’s congressional elections and perhaps even the presidency in the year 2000.

The immediate reason why the PRI has lost its political monopoly is the dismal performance of the economy. Beginning in 1976, there has been an economic disaster about every six years, which coincides with the length of a presidential term. The crisis in 1982 was especially sharp; economic hardship lasted for about four years, during which time wages, adjusted for inflation, plummeted by 40%. Then, the mother of all collapses took place in 1995, when gross domestic product fell by 7%.

During the last 14 years of economic trial and tribulation, the presidency has been occupied by U.S.-educated technocrats, like Carlos Salinas de Gortari, who has a Ph.D. from Harvard, and Ernesto Zedillo, the current president, who has a Ph.D. in economics from Yale. Foreign investors and Wall Street gurus love the technocratic presidents. But among the general population of Mexico, there is little affection for them.

The 4,423 delegates at the PRI’s 17th National Assembly were reacting to these multiple developments, but they were also selfishly promoting party regulars--themselves--for public office. Even though the Mexican economy is recovering from the catastrophe of ‘95, the deprivations of that year still reverberate loudly among the population. It was evident from the speeches and applause lines that delegates were nostalgic for the good old days, when the Mexican market was closed to imports and the state was the rector, the dominant actor, promoting economic activity.

The most important operational resolution emerging from the assembly was that future PRI candidates for president and state governor must have held elective office and have been party members for at least 10 years. There had been a tacit understanding that the operative conjunction was supposed to be or, but this was lost in the heat of the debate. Under these rules, none of Mexico’s last five presidents would have been eligible--including Zedillo. If the Republican Party adopted similar rules, Dwight D. Eisenhower would not have been president.

The party assembly’s other actions amounted to a mixed bag, including some that could be significant, while others mostly reflected sound and fury. The delegates, by unanimous voice vote, opposed privatizing 61 petrochemical plants now run by Pemex, the state oil monopoly. They debated expelling Carlos Salinas, now in self-imposed absence in Ireland, from the party, but the PRI president, Santiago Onate, used a parliamentary maneuver to prevent a vote. There was a vote against the doctrine of “social liberalism,� which Salinas had promoted, and a pronounced preference for the old revolutionary slogans calling for defense of sovereignty and promotion of social justice. The delegates cheered greetings from “fraternal� delegates representing the Cuban Communist Party, the Farabundo Marti Liberation Front of El Salvador and Nicaragua’s Sandinistas, but booed mention of the U.S. Democratic and Republican parties.

The assembly was unwilling to state clearly that a sitting president should have no voice in the choice of his successor, even though Zedillo has favored this kind of separation of party and government. The delegates denounced corruption, but left any action to be taken up to an internal party body. Talk about the fox guarding the hen house. At the end of the day, however, the delegates applauded Zedillo’s closing speech.

What does it all signify? Limiting the choice of the presidential candidate to veteran PRI members who have held elected office is meaningful, because the PRI does control its internal affairs. Such rules might be appropriate in a parliamentary system, but Mexico, in theory, has a political system of separation of powers between the executive and the legislature. It may not be simple to find a safe constituency for an aspiring leader who has not previously held elective office, as is done in Britain. The rule could eliminate not only the hated technocrats, but also other distinguished Mexicans in education, the arts and humanities, and private business.

The petrochemical-plant decision is a state, not a party, matter, but it would take great courage and considerable political skill (or folly) to carry out privatization. The opposition to privatization stems from a combination of nationalism--the oil industry remains something special in Mexico--and union pressure to keep jobs. The outside world is likely to see what the assembly did as a vote in favor of featherbedding, rather than efficiency.

Did the PRI emerge stronger after its assembly? A call to patriotism has clear appeal, but the display of self-interested animosities hardly encourages confidence. The assembly’s prevailing emotional atmosphere was a yearning to return to a Mexico that looks inward--but this is now an anachronism. The assembly showed a frightened PRI fighting for its existence, but unsure about how to do this. As time passes, it is doubtful that this political gathering will be seen as having helped the party, but rather as another step in its inevitable decline from the all-dominant position it once held.

The PRI’s convention probably won’t scare off foreign investors. Blowing off steam and displaying petulance is not the same as making policy. In the end, the delegates refrained from going too far. They deplored the current economic model, but they applauded the president responsible for carrying it out. Any rough edges that cast doubt on party support of Zedillo’s economic policy will be smoothed over when the leaders issue the final platform document. If the economy continues to improve, as now seems likely, much of today’s concern will dissipate. Investors are more likely to look at what the government does than what the members of a weakened party say in the heat of a highly charged debate.