Tag Archives: politics

Four Fashionable Mexican Heads of State

By Marcia Chaiken and Jan Chaiken —

Fashion statements have been made for millennia by the Heads of State in Mexico. Whether in pre- or post-Columbian eras, the most important political Mexican figures have always signaled their relationship with the common people (and sometimes with their gods) with their attire. Here are the fashion statements made by four of the most known.

King Pakal the Great, (aka K’inich Janaab Pakal), who ruled over Palenque from age 12 for 68 years until his death in 683, may be best known for interpretations of engravings on his sarcophagus that led him to be called the Mayan astronaut or time traveler. The engravings show him sporting paraphernalia that looks like space flight equipment. But whether he was human or extraterrestrial, his funeral dress clearly indicates that he was considered more than a mere mortal. Adorned with a king’s ransom of jade, from his death mask to the multiple ear pieces, necklaces, bracelets, and rings, even in death he was an impressive sight. The jade mask is most startling because of the inlay of obsidian “eyes”.

Many engravings of Mayan rulers show them wearing elaborate headdresses. But anthropologist Alyce de Carteret described the primary fashion piece of Mayan rulers: “A bark-paper headband adorned with a diadem of jade or shell was bound to the heads of rulers the day they acceded to the throne.” However, existing clay figures of Pakal show him wearing a bird mask, a headdress of quetzal feathers and a long elaborate gown decorated with necklaces of jade. We can surmise that the gown was made from finely woven cotton, since only the wealthiest Mayans could afford that material.

Montezuma (aka Moctezuma II) was the 9th ruler of the Aztec Empire and was the head of state for eighteen years until his death in 1520. Unlike Pakal whose living attire requires some conjecture, Montezuma was well known to the conquistador Cortez, who arrested him.

He was an impressive fashion figure on first formal meeting. His headdress alone was spectacular and described as including “the green upper tail coverts of the quetzal bird, the turquoise feathers of the cotinga, brown feathers from the squirrel cuckoo, pink feathers from the roseate spoonbill, and small ornaments of gold.” His mantle or cape was completely embroidered in primary colors, and the designs depended on the day, the audience and the ceremony he was attending. He rarely wore the same outfit twice, keeping a small army of embroiderers constantly busy. His outfit was completed with a loincloth and sandals – some of jaguar skin, most with jewels.

For the most solemn occasions, much of the finery was omitted, and Montezuma wore a simple loincloth and a dark cape decorated with skulls. After his arrest, Montezuma was not required to wear today’s orange jump suit but rather continued as a figurehead under Spanish rule and wore his diminishing costumes until he died of his wounds after an uprising of his former subjects.

Empress Carlota (née Princess Charlotte of Belgium) was the one and only empress of Mexico for a very short reign from 1864 to 1867. She and her husband Maximillian were placed on the throne by Napoleon III. Given their very progressive ideas about educating and raising up the Mexican populace, they were quickly deposed and Maximillian was shot.

Although the royal couple’s ideas about ruling Mexico were violently rejected, Carlota’s fashion sense was much more captivating. Given her wish to become the benefactor of “her people,” she began to combine European fashion with the costume of the hoi polloi of Mexico. Although the wide skirts and rich materials were retained, the bodice of her dresses and overskirt resembled the china poblana traditional dresses worn by Mexican women – especially on occasions celebrating Mexican identity. She also adopted the bright primary colors of Mexican dress.

Her rule was short-lived but her incorporation of Mexico’s traditional styles into high fashion has lived on. Many of the high-fashion designers of Mexico today merge traditional embroidery or decorations into ultra-modern designs. Just walk down Avenida Presidente Masaryk in CDMX today, and fashions based on Carlota’s innovations come alive.

Presidente Claudia Sheinbaum The first woman president in Mexico, who took office almost two years ago, is scrutinized for fashion as no president ever before. She uses this attention to benefit women all over Mexico. For ceremonial occasions, in addition to her presidential sash, she often wears replicas of dresses from different regions of the country including the huipil, the china poblana, the Tehuana (from Oaxaca) and the Chiapaneca. The many artisans who create and decorate her dresses are publicly noted and often find themselves swamped with orders from ordinary citizens and beyond.

Of course, given her intense meeting and travel schedule, she also slips into comfortable pants and blouses. But the styles are business-appropriate. And unlike the wives of many heads of state, she avoids expensive designer clothes and instead wears fashions that are affordable for the majority of working Mexicans.

From Pakal to Sheinbaum, the Mexican heads of state have had distinctive styles worn as political statements. Some such as Carlota and Montezuma have had ruinous careers. Some such as Pakal and hopefully Sheinbaum have made positive contributions to lives of their people. All will likely be remembered for what they wore.

Drs. Marcia and Jan Chaiken have been married for 62 years and have published many justice system research reports together.

 

 

Mexico-U.S. Issues during Sheinbaum’s First Year

By Marcia Chaiken and Jan Chaiken

During Claudia Sheinbaum’s first months as president, relations with the U.S. administration were relatively calm. Joe Biden, having stepped aside from a second presidential run, was focused on preserving his legacy of rebuilding cooperative international relationships. Soon after Mexico’s election, Biden issued an official statement:

“I congratulate Claudia Sheinbaum on her historic election as the first woman President of Mexico. I look forward to working closely with President-elect Sheinbaum in the spirit of partnership and friendship that reflects the enduring bonds between our two countries. I express our commitment to advancing the values and interests of both our nations to the benefit of our peoples.”

Even before taking office, Sheinbaum responded warmly, making clear she looked forward to working with Biden until the end of his term. She noted she would be glad to work with another woman president—hinting at Kamala Harris—but emphasized that it was for U.S. voters to decide, and that she would cooperate with whoever was elected.

Biden did not attend Sheinbaum’s inauguration but sent a Presidential Delegation led by First Lady Jill Biden, joined by U.S. officials with close family ties to Mexico. For a moment, things seemed smooth. But only weeks after Sheinbaum took office, the U.S. electorate chose Donald Trump—who had launched his first campaign eight years earlier by declaring that Mexico was sending “drug dealers, criminals, and rapists.” Sheinbaum must have known that the smooth sailing under Biden was about to give way to rougher seas.

Trump’s belligerence toward Latin America was on display immediately—in his inauguration speech and in a flurry of executive orders. These included militarizing the U.S. border with Mexico and even renaming the Gulf of Mexico the “Gulf of America.” Sheinbaum met these provocations with calm and humor, suggesting tongue-in-cheek that perhaps the U.S. should rename itself “Mexican America.”

As expected from Trump’s campaign rhetoric and the ultra-conservative Heritage Foundation’s “Project 2025,” three issues dominated: mass deportations and immigration barriers, high tariffs on imports, and the threat of military action against cartels.

By September 2025, Sheinbaum had held 14 substantive conversations with Trump. U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio even praised her in Mexico City for raising the level of cooperation between the two countries beyond what the U.S. had achieved with any other democracy.

Drug Interdiction
Early on, Trump reportedly asked Sheinbaum in a phone call whether Mexico had a “drug problem.” She responded that Mexico was not a drug-consuming country, crediting an intensive public campaign that graphically depicted the physical effects of drug use. Trump, who often boasts of his intelligence, admitted he had learned something and ordered a similar campaign in the U.S.

But while Mexico emphasized prevention, Trump cut funding for treatment programs, turning instead to military interdiction. In September, the U.S. destroyed a ship from Venezuela allegedly carrying illicit drugs. Trump also “offered” to send U.S. troops into Mexico to fight cartels—an offer Sheinbaum firmly rejected, calling such an invasion a hostile act.

Still, she welcomed cooperation similar to U.S. support for Colombia in the 1990s, and unlike her mentor AMLO, she has not relied on the slogan “hugs, not bullets.” To meet Trump’s demands without ceding sovereignty, she extradited scores of cartel members to the U.S. for prosecution. More importantly, she reframed the problem: not just drugs flowing north, but also guns flowing south—making clear that both are matters of shared security.

Immigration and the Border
Discussions of border control began even before Trump’s inauguration. Sheinbaum benefited from AMLO’s earlier crackdown, which had already reduced illegal crossings. After one early “perfect phone call,” Trump declared that Sheinbaum had agreed to “close down the border.” She clarified that Mexico’s strategy was to deter migrant caravans while keeping the border open to legitimate traffic.

In September, after meetings between Secretary Rubio and his Mexican counterpart, both nations announced a joint plan: U.S. and Mexican law enforcement would share intelligence and operations—each on their own side—to destroy tunnels used for smuggling drugs north and guns south.

But Trump’s mass deportation initiative looms larger. While he promised to deport only undocumented criminals, ICE sweeps have targeted day laborers, college campuses, and communities with long-standing Latino residents. Even DACA youth—brought to the U.S. as children and promised protection—are under threat.

Anticipating Trump’s actions, Sheinbaum launched the México Te Abraza (Mexico Embraces You) program on the day he took office. Along the border, centers now provide deportees with financial aid, help opening bank accounts, documentation, pensions, scholarships, disability support, and immediate essentials such as food and internet access. As Gandhi said, “The true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members.” By this measure, Sheinbaum has placed Mexico in stark contrast to Trump’s America.

Tariffs
Trump also revived the long-abandoned strategy of imposing sweeping tariffs. By mid-summer, Canada faced a 35% tariff. Mexico, however, thanks to Sheinbaum’s calm but firm negotiating style, secured a 90-day pause to seek alternatives that would not raise prices for consumers on either side of the border.

This pause proved critical. Equal tariffs on Mexico would have caused food inflation and hardship for vulnerable populations in both nations. In September, a U.S. federal appeals court ruled that Trump had overstepped his authority by justifying tariffs under the International Emergency Economic Powers Act. The court allowed existing tariffs to remain until October 14 while the issue heads to the Supreme Court in November.

If SCOTUS upholds the ruling, Sheinbaum can turn to other priorities. If not, she will again face Trump at the negotiating table—armed with patience, pragmatism, and her trademark humor.

Domestic Standing
At home, Sheinbaum’s approval ratings remain strong: 79% as of August 2025, twelve points higher than AMLO at the same stage, and far above Trump’s 41% in the U.S. Yet when asked specifically about her dealings with Trump, 57% of Mexicans said “bad” or “very bad.” That reflects not her performance but the disruptive impact of Trump’s policies—especially the decline in remittances from Mexicans in the U.S., which have fallen as deportations and workplace raids intensify.

Families across Mexico feel these changes directly in household income. What many may not see is that compared with other world leaders, Sheinbaum has managed to secure far more productive outcomes in her dealings with U.S., without losing Mexico’s dignity or independence.

PEMEX and President Claudia Sheinbaum

By Julie Etra

As this issue explores Mexico’s president one year after her remarkable rise to the presidency, I decided to write about one of the many challenges she faces: a perpetually lingering, decades-old economic problem — PEMEX and its viability.

First, a little background. The acronym stands for Petróleos Mexicanos. For a detailed, in-depth analysis of its origins, see the 2022 The Eye archives: https://theeyehuatulco.com/2022/03/28/politics-petroleum-and-the-environmenthow-to-doom-your-countrys-climate-targets. This excellent article was by Deborah van Hoewyk, who sadly recently passed away. Deborah was a long-time contributor to The Eye and a scholar in her own right (a tribute to her by Randy Jackson is included in this issue).

To quote Deborah’s article: “Before expropriation, there were 17 international firms producing oil in Mexico, dominated by the Mexican Eagle Company (a subsidiary of the Royal Dutch/Shell Company, now just ‘Shell’) and various U.S. firms (Jersey Standard, a branch of Standard Oil, and Standard Oil Company of California, SOCAL, now Chevron); together the Dutch and the Americans (basically, the Rockefellers) controlled 90% of the production of Mexican oil; Gulf Oil added another 5%.”

In 1938, President Lázaro Cárdenas expropriated foreign oil assets and created a state oil monopoly. Mexico’s major new refinery project, Olmeca (often called Dos Bocas), is located in Paraíso, Tabasco; it is designed for 340,000 barrels per day and to produce ultra-low-sulfur fuels.

What propelled expropriation was a union strike against the international petroleum consortium and the refusal of foreign companies to accept new contract terms—an inflection point that reshaped Mexico’s energy sector.

PEMEX’s solvency has been a persistent issue, in part because government budgets long relied on PEMEX revenues for far more than exploration, refining, storage, distribution, and maintenance. Expectations were high—perhaps unrealistically so.

President Enrique Peña Nieto’s 2013 energy reform amended the Constitution to allow private participation across the sector; it did not privatize PEMEX. Subsequent policy under Andrés Manuel López Obrador (AMLO) reasserted a larger state role and increased support for PEMEX, while also emphasizing “energy sovereignty.”

PEMEX’s profitability remains complex. Factors include insufficient new exploration, aging and poorly maintained infrastructure, spills, vandalism, corruption, and long-term production declines — along with exposure to oil-price cycles. Above all, debt is the headline problem: around US$100 billion in financial debt, with more than US$20 billion owed to suppliers, making PEMEX the world’s most-indebted oil company.

Fuel theft, called huachicol, is a major drag. Recent cases underscore its scale: on Sept. 8, 2025, authorities announced 14 arrests, including customs officials, businesspeople, and members of the armed forces, in a probe into a fuel-smuggling network; in parallel enforcement, authorities have reported large seizures of stolen diesel.

So, what is the Sheinbaum administration proposing?

1) Energy security + cleaner mix.
Mexico imports significant volumes of U.S. natural gas via pipelines from Texas, much of it used for power generation. The administration has signaled plans to bolster domestic gas output while pushing renewables, like solar and wind, and exploring strategic inputs such as lithium for batteries, alongside a national energy plan to expand generation capacity toward 2030.

2) Tax and debt overhauls.
In late 2024, the government simplified PEMEX’s fiscal regime to a single levy, the Derecho Petrolero para el Bienestar (roughly 30% on oil and ~11.6–12% on non-associated gas in 2025), explicitly to reduce PEMEX’s historic tax burden and allow more investment. A broader 10-year plan (2025–2035) aims to lower debt, reprofile maturities, and gradually phase out federal financial support by 2027—a pledge reiterated in August–September 2025 as the government arranged bond issues and buybacks tied to a debt-management strategy.

3) Anti-corruption enforcement.
President Sheinbaum recently said former PEMEX CEO Carlos Treviño was arrested in the U.S. and would be deported to Mexico to face corruption charges linked to the Odebrecht/Braskem case—an extradition request pending for about five years.

Separately, U.S. authorities in August 2025 indicted two Mexico-based businessmen over alleged bribes to obtain PEMEX contracts.

Given the ambition of the 10-year plan and the 2027 support “off-ramp,” it will be worth revisiting this in 2027, when federal support is slated to cease. As Sheinbaum put it: the goal is for PEMEX to stand on its own by 2027.

 

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“We must strive to become good ancestors.”
Ralph Nader

What is your life’s purpose? Day of the Dead is a time to contemplate life and the lives of those who came before us. This is the first year that my mother’s photo will join my father’s on the altar and I can feel the tears welling up even as I write this. As I was caring for her in the last months of her life it became clear to me that the trivialities we obsess over are mere distractions.

I am baffled by the news and stories of those in power, the anger and frustration that ripples around the world. This hunger for power that seems to ignore the inner world of individuals. The way these topics dominate conversations, the way we use our political beliefs to define us rather than the other way around. When I was asked recently what my core beliefs are, I realized they can be summed up in four simple principles:

1. Bodily autonomy
2. Equitable distribution of wealth- there is enough for everyone; enough food, enough healthcare, enough water
3. Freedom of movement for all
4. A life without violence

When world leaders discuss strategies and economic reforms that encourage more violence, less freedom of movement, and scarcity for some while others have more than they could ever need, I can’t help but wonder: what is our life’s purpose?

At the end of life, what will we take with us? We can view history as a series of wars and power shifts and try to devise a winning formula. But winning—there’s another concept that makes little sense. Is the winner the one with the most money, or the one who is most content?

For myself, I try and move through the world feeling energy rather than corralling wealth or power. I want to feel the energy of a tree rather than calculate it’s monetary value. I want to approach each person I meet with compassion, I want to live in a paradigm of abundance- I know there is enough for everybody if we distribute it properly.

Thinking on that time with my mother I’m reminded that our real legacy is not wealth or power, but how deeply we’ve loved and how much kindness we’ve shared. Death invites us to ask ‘what is your life’s purpose? What do you want your legacy to be?’.

This month we mourn the loss of our colleague and friend Deborah Van Hoewyk. She is greatly missed and leaves behind a legacy of kindness and curiosity.

See you next month,

Jane

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“What we call Man’s power over Nature turns out to be a power exercised by some men over other men with Nature as its instrument.”
C.S.Lewis

Dominion or Delusion?

Imagine the center of the Earth—a churning core of fire, hotter than the surface of the sun. Around it, layers of rock, compressed over millennia, hold the planet together. Some of these rocks are laced with gold, silver, and lithium, elements we’ve deemed valuable. Others, we grind into dust beneath our feet without a second thought. Wrapped around all of this is water—vast, deep, and ancient—carving its way through rock, evaporating into clouds, raining back down in an endless cycle.

And then, there’s us.

We exist only on the thinnest layer, a mere film on the surface of this massive, breathing planet. And yet, we draw lines across it, dividing land into nations, waters into territories, air into controlled space. We claim mountains, rivers, even the empty sky, labeling them with deeds and mineral rights. We build economies, establish laws, and enforce rules over something that will never truly belong to us. We convince ourselves we have dominion over the Earth.

But then, the Earth shrugs. An earthquake swallows a city. A hurricane flattens a coastline. A volcano erupts, spilling molten rock as if to remind us where the true power lies. We scramble to rebuild, to reinforce, to regain control, as if control was ever ours to begin with.

Why do we do this? Why is dominion our highest ambition?

What if we saw this endless striving for control not as strength, but as a kind of weakness? What if the leaders who seek to control land, resources, and people weren’t admired for their power, but pitied for their delusion? What if, instead of fighting for dominance, we embraced the simple fact that we are just another part of this planet—not above it, not rulers of it, but made from the same dust as everything else?

Because, in the end, we are not conquerors of rock and water and fire. We are rock and water and fire. And the sooner we recognize that, the sooner we might learn to exist in harmony with the world, rather than constantly trying to claim it.

This month, our writers look at mining in Mexico, one of our earliest efforts to dominate the earth, but one that largely created the modern Mexican economy while filling affluent jewelry boxes. We need to ask at what cost?

See you next month!

Encomienda and the Caste System in Mexico

By Julie Etra

Encomendar = Entrust

Spanish Origin
This legal system of forced labor originated in medieval Spain after the Reconquista in 1492, when King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella wrested control over Andalus (also known as Andalucia, a region of southern Spain). The system was established to extract tribute from the defeated Moors (originally from the Atlas Mountains of Morocco), many of whom were expelled to North Africa—an estimated three million people. Some returned and converted to Catholicism, becoming known as Moriscos. The system rewarded soldiers and financiers who had contributed to Spain’s conquests, including those of the Canary Islands off the coast of Africa.

Exportation to the New World and the Philippines
The encomienda system was first introduced to the newly conquered Hispaniola (present-day Dominican Republic and Haiti) in 1502 and later to Mexico and the Philippines, where it took on slight regional variations. In is 2009 study The Encomenderos of New Spain, 1521-1555, Robert Himmerich y Valencia, Associate Professor of History at the University of New Mexico provides an excellent description of the encomienda: “a grant of “a grant of the Indians of a prescribed indigenous polity, who were to provide the grantee (the encomendero) tribute in the form of commodities and service in return for protection and religious instruction.”

New Spain needed free labor for its silver mines and religious conversion efforts. Officially approved by the Spanish Crown in 1503, the system expanded southward to Spanish colonies in Central and South America and throughout the Caribbean. Initially, the right to encomienda was granted to an adelantado or encomendero, a conquistador awarded the opportunity to conquer new territories on behalf of the Spanish Crown. This system was later extended to adventurers, colonizers, and even municipalities. It was essentially slavery under a different name—a legal arrangement that did not allocate land or other physical resources, such as mines or haciendas, which came later. The only distinction from outright slavery was that the indigenous workers could not be sold or inherited. The adelantado retained 80% of acquired wealth, while the Crown received the remaining 20%.

Structure
There were 506 encomienda grants in Mexico. Though granted for life, they were not inheritable, and most reverted to the Crown upon the encomendero’s death, with small provisions made for surviving family members. The size of the population tied to a particular encomienda varied, averaging around 2,000 family units, though these units could differ in composition. Some encomiendas were much larger—for example, Hernán Cortés’s encomienda included over 23,000 family units.

Smaller encomiendas were adequate for property improvements and cultivation. They also allowed a settler to build a home, feed his family, and maintain a small entourage of salaried personal followers (paniaguados) to protect his holdings from rebellious native groups and marauding Europeans. Additionally, encomenderos were responsible for paying the parish priest.

Decline
The system was short-lived, with major reforms attempted in 1573. It was perceived as abusive and counterproductive, especially as the population of New Spain had declined drastically—from approximately 22 million in 1500 to just 3 million by 1550 due to disease and forced labor fatalities. Additionally, there were not enough licenses available to meet demand, and there were too few indigenous workers left to sustain the system. As a result, the Spanish Crown decided to place control of the conquered population directly under royal authority instead of under the powerful encomenderos. The system was officially abolished on September 17, 1721, when the issuance of new encomiendas in all of Spain’s colonies was prohibited. However, remnants of the system persisted in parts of Mexico until the early 18th century and lingered in the Yucatán Peninsula until the 1780s.

Repartimiento
The repartimiento system replaced encomienda, shifting labor control from private individuals to the Spanish colonial government. Under this system, Spanish colonists and municipalities were granted the right to extract forced but low-paid labor from local communities in conquered territories. Designed to replace the inefficient encomienda system, repartimiento was eventually limited to crucial industries such as food and textile production and precious metal mining.

For further reading, see Marcia Chaiken and Jan Chaiken’s article on slavery in Mexico on page 8.

Social Class in Mexico: From Skin Color to Show Me the Money!

By Deborah Van Hoewyk

When you watch Mexican television, do you look at the ads? Who do you see? Pale people. When you walk outside in Huatulco, or Santa María, or Oaxaca City, who do you see? Brown people, all the glorious shades of brown people.

Skin Color and Social Class in Mexico

It turns out that skin color is – and always has been – one of the major components of social class in Mexico. The most requested type of actor for commercial advertising is “international Latino” – dark hair and eyes are okay, but skin must be light. According to social anthropologist Juris Tipa, a professor/researcher at the Autonomous Metropolitan University-Iztapalapa, the whole notion of “international Latino” is “reinforcing the imagery of a ‘Europeanised Latin Americanity’ at the expense of the average Mexican.”

Official statistical research in Mexico is carried out by INEGI (National Institute of Statistics and Geography). Traditionally, adhering to the general notion that Mexico is a nation based on mestizaje – racial/ethnic mixing – INEGI’s surveys have not included questions on race or skin color. (A question on African ancestry started appearing in 2015; see the Chaikens’ article on slavery on page 8, as well as Julie Etra’s article on page 26.)

Given that the Conquest left Mexico with not only slavery but a caste system based entirely on racial and ethnic classifications, the ideology of mestizaje would seem to be a political fiction. Even though the War of Independence replaced the caste system with a hierarchy based on wealth and education, the preference for that pale-skinned European look persisted (President Porfirio Díaz, whose dictatorial ways led up to the Mexican Revolution, was a noted Europhile). Academic research has now begun to look into the relationship of skin color and “life outcomes,” i.e., social class.

In 2010, Andrés Villareal, then at the Population Research Center at the University of Texas, was the first investigator to look at how skin color affects an individual’s “life chances.” He found that the darker your skin, the less education you had. The darker your skin, the lower your occupational category. The darker your skin, the more likely you were to live in poverty, although this relationship was not perfect – if you had light brown skin, you could make it into a more affluent category. Remember, the richest man in Mexico, Carlos Slim, has light brown skin!

Researchers from the Department of Sociology at Princeton University followed up on Villareal’s research in 2012; their work added the finding that “class origin” – that is, the social status of your family – could moderate the effect of skin color. Interestingly, they found that high-income individuals are perceived to be white, regardless of the color of their skin. Overall, they found that skin color and class origin work together to reproduce social inequality in Mexico – and the class origin component works to set your fate even before you enter the labor market.

In 2018, using an 11-shade “palette” of skin colors, researchers at the Center for Economic Studies at the Colegio de México in Mexico City, found “profound social stratification by skin color.” The lightest-skinned people have a year and a half more schooling and more than double the hourly earnings than those with the darkest skin color. Lighter skin brings more “social mobility,” i.e., light-skinned people can move up the socio-economic ladder, while the darkest people actually dropped in socioeconomic status.

Does Skin Color = Social Class in Mexico?

Does this truly mean the caste system is alive and well? Not completely. Even though skin color can influence your access to advantages such as education, those advantages can moderate the effects of skin color. There’s education (especially whether or not you speak English), along with professional skills and background. In a 2023 study in the Middle Atlantic Review of Latin American Studies, Thomas Stringer, a professor at Tecnológico de Monterrey, argues that the intersection of skin color, English proficiency, and intergenerational wealth determines your social class in Mexico.

The Mexican Association of Marketing Research and Public Opinion Agencies, otherwise known as AMAI, has developed a seven-level system of socioeconomic status (SES); the system is based on four characteristics: (1) education (how much professional or post-graduate study), (2) living situation (vivienda – how many bedrooms and how many cars), (3) Internet connectivity, and (4) technology (how many computers). AMAI places no emphasis on skin color – like all good marketing authorities, their system seems to be based on consumption.

So … Show Me the Money!

It is interesting that Mexico does not have a standard definition of socio-economic status, and that perceptions of who is “middle” class are so fluid (see the article by Kary Vannice on page 6). Underlying all the SES measures noted above? Money. You want a nice house? You have to have the money to buy it or build it. Higher education? You have to pay tuition. Intergenerational wealth? Your family had to get it somewhere.

Money in Mexico, however, is not available to all – the World Inequality Report of 2022 ranks Mexico 12th in the world for the disparity between those at the economic top (1% of the population held almost 50% of the country’s wealth) and bottom (50% of the population held only a bit more than 9% of the wealth).

Under the 2018-24 presidency of Andrés Manuel López Obrador (AMLO), however, income inequality actually decreased. AMLO shepherded successive 20% increases in the minimum wage, which sweetened union contracts as a bonus. He tightened outsourcing laws, retaining more manufacturing in Mexico – a policy that moved more than three million people into formal employment. Overall, the “multidimensional poverty rate” (income plus “social rights” – access to food, medical care, sanitation, etc.) dropped by over 5% in AMLO’s first four years, with 8.9 million people lifted out of poverty.

When millions of people escape poverty, the country benefits enormously. But escaping poverty does not necessarily change your social class, nor does it provide access to the advantages of upward mobility.

Understanding Mexico’s Middle Class

By Kary Vannice

There’s something interesting going on with Mexico’s middle class. While the majority of Mexicans identify as middle class, some scholars suggest that a true middle class doesn’t even exist in Mexico.

In a country where the top 1% own 50% of the nation’s wealth, it’s not surprising that Mexico’s economic structure looks quite different from its neighbors, the U.S. and Canada. For every person in Mexico’s upper class, there are approximately 50 people in the lower class. As many as 64% of Mexicans are considered poor or live in poverty. According to a 2021 study by Mexico’s official census agency, Quantifying the Middle Class in Mexico, 38% of the population is classified as middle or upper class, while 62% make up the lower class.

Even among Latin countries, the economic gap in Mexico is wide. Closely tied to factors like race and generational wealth, research shows that lighter-skinned Mexicans, who often come from families with European heritage, dominate the upper class. By contrast, darker-skinned Mexicans typically earn 53% less than their lighter-skinned counterparts, making it challenging for those of indigenous decent to break the middle-class barrier.

Inequity is compounded in the lower classes where the majority work at informal, low-paying jobs simply to provide for their families, often without benefits like healthcare or retirement plans. More than half of the population works informal jobs in Mexico. Despite this, most Mexicans perceive themselves as middle class.

In 2022, Revista: Harvard Review of Latin America reported that, “79% of Mexicans consider themselves to be middle class, a quantity quite superior to the reality. The mistaken perception of belonging to the middle class exists in both the rich and poor. Two-thirds of the top 1% of income in Mexico perceive themselves as middle class. And 47% of Mexicans who live in poverty also believe the same thing.”

Despite both upper and lower classes perceiving themselves to be “middle class,” the day-to-day realities of these two socioeconomic groups is stark. In a World Values Survey, 62% of Mexicans identified as middle class, yet in the previous 12 months, one-third reported they had experienced food insecurity, nearly 60% felt unsafe, and close to 40% had been unable to pay for necessary healthcare. Only 33% of this group reported having their basic needs consistently met.

The Revista assessment suggests that only 23% of Mexicans actually fit into the middle-class category. So what does a middle-class income look like in Mexico? Most metrics put the annual income between $6,000 and $20,000 (USD), a shockingly low number by most foreigners’ standards.

In contrast, Canada’s average annual middle-class salary was between $53,359 and $137,000 CAD in 2023-24, while the United States reported an average middle-class income of between $53,740 and $161,220 USD in 2023. These figures highlight a significant income disparity between Mexico and its northern counterparts. The top middle-class annual salary in Mexico is less than half of the lowest middle-class earners in both the US and Canada.

Minimum wage comparisons further underscore these differences. As of 2025, Mexico’s national monthly minimum wage was 5,576 pesos ($388 CAD), while Canada’s federal monthly minimum wage was $2,768 CAD.

This means the Mexicans who work in private homes, food service, or run the shops you frequent are likely facing very different financial realities than you might expect. Mexico’s daily minimum wage is just $278.80 pesos. A Canadian making minimum wage makes in one hour what a Mexican makes in seven hours, likely doing manual labor.

Despite identifying as “middle class”, the majority of Mexicans still struggle to meet their monthly needs. The Revista assessment concluded by saying, “Mexico is not a country of middle classes. It is a country in which to be middle class is the exception, a level of lifestyle to which very few people have access.”

Understanding the complexities of Mexico’s middle class offers valuable insight into the lives of those you may encounter daily, like housekeepers, gardeners, artisans, or servers. While their lighthearted smiles may reflect a “perceived” middle-class status, their reality is often far more challenging.

Supporting local businesses, tipping well, and paying fairly for services provide opportunities to help bridge the gap between perception and true financial stability, and to contribute to a safer, more secure middle-class reality here in Mexico, which in turn provides a more stable economic future for Mexicans and foreigners alike.

Huatulco after FONATUR

By Randy Jackson

In 2023, a milestone agreement was reached that would alter the development path of the federally planned tourism resort of Huatulco. This agreement transfers the assets, responsibilities, and obligations of the developer, FONATUR (Fondo Nacional de Fomento a Turismo), to the State of Oaxaca and the municipality of Santa María Huatulco.

Huatulco was conceived, built, and financed by the federally run tourism development organization known as FONATUR, responsible for Mexico’s nationally developed resorts known as CIPs – Centros Integralmente Planeado, or fully-planned [tourism] centers, the first of which was Cancún in 1974. Prior to development, the Huatulco area was a pristine collection of bays and isolated fishing villages without road connections. Since 1984, FONATUR has developed, maintained, and operated Huatulco through the administrations of several different presidents. Under the recent presidency of Andrés Manuel López Obrador (AMLO), in a bid to decentralize tourism management in Mexico, the entire resort of Huatulco, along with the Mazatlán Marina, Los Cabos, Ixtapa, and parts of Cancún and Cozumel, were all slated to be transferred from FONATUR to state and local authorities. For Huatulco, this transition has begun.

In this article, I outline what we know about Huatulco’s FONATUR transition, its implications, and some of its current challenges.

The Transfer Agreements

1) Convenio General de Colaboración (General Collaboration Agreement), dated May 30, 2023. The agreement states that FONATUR transfers public services and infrastructure management in Huatulco’s CIP to the state government, including roads, water systems, lighting, and waste management. FONATUR will donate related assets and collaborate with the state of Oaxaca during the transition.

2) An agreement dated December 29, 2023, effective January 1, 2024. This agreement formalizes the transfer of infrastructure and public service management in the Huatulco CIP from FONATUR to the state of Oaxaca and the municipality of Santa María Huatulco. It includes transferring assets like water systems, waste management facilities, roads, green spaces, and financial support of $143.8 million MXN ($7.2 million USD) in 2024 to ensure seamless operations.

3) A modification agreement, dated January 4, 2024, amends the above agreement to designate FIDELO (Fideicomiso para el Desarrollo Logístico del Estado de Oaxaca, or the Trust for the Logistical Development of the State of Oaxaca), a state-run entity, as the primary entity to manage the transferred assets and oversee services like water supply, sanitation, and waste management.

The transfer agreements also state that FONATUR remains the legal title holder of the properties until all legal and administrative approvals are secured. It also states that FIDELO is to provide quarterly and annual reports to FONATUR detailing the operation and maintenance of the transferred infrastructure and services. These reports are to include financial statements, operational metrics, and compliance with established service standards. These reports have not been made public.

Enter FIDELO

FIDELO is a parastatal entity (a public corporation) created by the state of Oaxaca on February 15, 1997. Its main objective is to position the state as a competitive region for developing various productive sectors through the promotion and execution of logistics, social, commercial, and tourism projects. Among the functions of FIDELO are to:

· carry out infrastructure and urbanization works
· obtain credits and grant guarantees for financing
· enter into agreements with public and private entities to promote the state’s economic development

FIDELO has been involved in various projects in Oaxaca, notably revitalizing the Parque Industrial y Maquilador (Industrial and Manufacturing Park) in Magdalena Apasco, Etla (outside Oaxaca City). However, public information on FIDELO’s other projects is limited.

FIDELO has now assumed the public services and infrastructure management previously performed by FONATUR in Huatulco. This includes the water and wastewater systems, parks and boulevard maintenance, solid waste collection, landfill operations, infrastructure maintenance, and all areas of administration required for such services. FIDELO has appointed Lorenzo Lavariega Arista, a former president of the municipio of Santa María Huatulco, as Director of Tourism Center Development. He has an office in Huatulco.

When FIDELO assumed its current Huatulco obligations from FONATUR, it incorporated all the FONATUR staff who provided the transferred services. There followed a staff reduction of about 25%. Lavariega has said he expects the staffing level to increase as the budget allows. Both state and federal 2025 budgets are expected to be approved before the end of December 2024.

Transfer Implications for Huatulco

Transferring the Huatulco CIP from federal to local management has sparked significant concerns for residents and visitors. Oaxaca, the second poorest state in Mexico, may struggle to manage the project’s financial and operational demands. This is particularly alarming given the current inadequacies in critical infrastructure, such as potable water and sewage treatment, which are insufficient to meet existing needs. Urgent upgrades and maintenance are required to ensure sustainability and support future growth.

Additionally, FONATUR had outlined a vision for Huatulco’s future development. However, with its departure, the long-term strategy and prospects for Huatulco’s growth under state and local administration remain unclear beyond the immediate transition of services. While FONATUR has relinquished operational responsibilities, it retains a significant presence as the owner and marketer of undeveloped properties in Huatulco.

FONATUR’s underfunding of Huatulco in recent years has significantly contributed to the current challenges in critical infrastructure, leaving the state of Oaxaca, with at least some federal funding, to prioritize much-needed upgrades. Despite these pressing issues, the transition of operational control from FONATUR to the state of Oaxaca began over a year ago, but the state has not announced a comprehensive plan or future vision for Huatulco.

According to Director Lavariega, Huatulco is of great importance to the state of Oaxaca as a key driver of tourism and economic development. There are no plans for the municipio of Santa María Huatulco to assume the obligations currently held by FIDELO following the transition. Looking ahead, Lavariega anticipates that CIP Huatulco’s needs will be prioritized and addressed depending on the allocation of federal and state resources.

The transition from FONATUR to state and local control marks a pivotal moment in Huatulco’s development, and its future remains uncertain. While FIDELO has taken over essential services and infrastructure management, significant challenges persist, particularly regarding the adequacy of funding for infrastructure to support the area’s growing needs.

With Huatulco positioned as an important driver of tourism and economic growth in Oaxaca, the coming months and years will reveal whether the state can rise to the occasion and deliver a sustainable vision for Huatulco’s future. As residents, businesses, and visitors await some news of the path forward, the story of Huatulco after FONATUR is far from finished—its next chapter has yet to be written.

For comments or contact, email: box95jackson@gmail.com.