CHAPTER 7 MESOAMERICANS IN THE NEOCOLONIAL ERA 291
Box 7.6 Porfirio Díaz and the Indians of Mexico
The Mexican historian Enrique Krauze begins his lively book on Mexico (Mexico, Biography of
Power,1997) with an account of the centennial celebration in 1910 of Independence from Spain
and the eightieth birthday of President Porfirio Díaz. Visitors from all over the world arrived at a
refurbished Mexico City to pay honor to the man who had brought peace to Mexico, presided
over unprecedented economic development, and reached accommodation with world powers
that in the past had intervened in the country’s affairs (especially, Spain, France, and the United
States). The Paseo de la Reforma avenue had been renovated to reflect Díaz’s negative attitude
about the country’s colonial past, in contrast to his glorification of its postindependence liberal
modernization. Monuments dedicated to Spanish conquistadors and colonial rulers were put
aside in favor of majestic monuments to such liberal heroes as Hidalgo, Juarez, and Díaz himself.
A monument was also erected in honor of Cuauhtemoc, the fallen Aztec leader who, like the
other “liberal” heroes, had fought against external invaders of Mexico.
President Díaz was the “quintessential mestizo.” His mother was a Mixtec Indian, his father
a working-class creole. Díaz had renewed his Indian ties while serving as the liberals’ military
leader in Tehuantepec, Oaxaca, among the highly militant Mixe and Zapotec peoples of that
area. As he rose to national power, however, he cast aside his Indian heritage, adopting the lib-
eral mantra that mestizo identity should provide the means to national unity. As the supreme
caudillo of Mexico, his policies toward the Indians were extremely harsh. He claimed that they
were generally “docile and grateful,” and thereby had contributed in only a minor way to the so-
cial and economic progress that had been made. Indians who were not docile and grateful, such
as the Yaquis and Mayas, were dealt with severely. In 1902, Díaz sent 8,000 soldiers to Yaqui coun-
try, where they slaughtered Yaqui women and children, and deported the men to the south as
virtual slaves. Shortly thereafter, his troops “overwhelmed” the rebellious Cruzob Mayas of Yu-
catán and exiled many of them to a deep canyon in Oaxaca (the “Valley of Death”) where, like
the Yaquis, they were forced to carry out slave labor.
Despite Díaz’s shedding of his own personal Indian identity and his advocacy of cultural as-
similation for the Indians, Krause claims that in his person and actions he continued to be influ-
enced by his Mesoamerican heritage. The French priest Brasseur de Bourbourg, who visited with
Díaz in Oaxaca, described his physical appearance as “the most handsome indigenous type that
I had ever encountered... in all my travels” Krauze 1997; (p. 208). Furthermore, there is evidence
that the way Díaz expressed himself in Spanish, as well as the intonations in his use of the lan-
guage, “seemed to stem from his Indian inheritance” (p. 210). But most of all, his personal style
of governing was similar to that of past Mesoamerican rulers: His figure as a protective father, the
aura of godlike powers, the reliance on “command” and authority (some eighteen forms of com-
mand existed in the Aztec’s language). But as a mestizo, Díaz’s political actions also manifested
a Spanish colonial legacy, including caudillo traits and “a new kind of ’enlightened despotism’
similar to the policies of the [Spanish] emperors of the eighteenth century” (p. 218).
Díaz saw the centennial celebration of 1910 as the culmination of his rule and the zenith of
Mexican history. His experiences in the many wars and rebellions of the neocolonial period should
have tipped him off to the impending social explosion in Mexico. And he most certainly should
have known that “the Indians of Mexico (and the much larger body of mestizo peasants—the
campesinos) were not really broken beyond any possibility of violent action” (p. 220). Despite the
portents, in 1910 Porfirio Díaz had himself reelected for the eighth time.
The Mexican revolution broke out that same year, and the following year Díaz fled into exile
in Paris, France. In 1915, he died and was buried in France, never to have his remains returned
to his beloved patria.