Opinion • Raquel Gutiérrez Aguilar • September 30, 2023 • Leer en castellano

Years ago, autonomous feminists in Latin America—Mujeres Creando in Bolivia among them—spray painted graffiti that read "there's nothing more like a right-wing machista than a left-wing machista." Today, we could tweak that statement to say "there's nothing more like a man in power than a woman in power."

Men and women in power act in similar ways, perhaps the key difference being that women in power are more politically fragile and are vilified in a more intense way that can include personal attacks.

For several months now, the bulk of mainstream media coverage in Mexico has been focused on the selection of presidential candidates by various parties and coalitions. It wasn’t until September 6 that the candidates were selected, or "uncorked," as is said in Mexican political parlance.

The novelty this time is that the two main candidates are women. Claudia Sheinbaum will represent Morena, the party currently in power, at the polls on June 2, 2024. And Xóchitl Gálvez will lead the coalition formed by most of the other registered parties: the National Action Party (PAN), the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI) and the Democratic Revolution Party (PRD). The Citizen’s Movement Party (MC) has yet to nominate a candidate.

That at least two women will run for the presidency of Mexico next year is not a generous concession by corporate or political patriarchs. Rather, it is a by-product of the recent feminist struggles. It is a cheapened translation by those in power of the capacity of countless bodies that have taken to the streets to repudiate and subvert everything that exists, especially the violence in our streets and territories.

It's useful to have a clear understanding of the manipulative nature of the political maneuvering that expands formal equality for women. It's also useful to understand its inadequacy, as well as the trivialization of the term "women's politics" that is likely to follow.

The arithmetic of formal equality in Mexico

On the surface, having a woman president in Mexico seems like a major breakthrough, and to a certain extent, it is. However, as I see it, it's only so when we consider it in formal, mathematical terms.

Mexican women acquired political rights just 70 years ago, in 1953. In the 100 years following the Revolution, there have only been 19 women governors in Mexico. That at least two women will run for president next year appears to signal significant change. But if we play a little with the arithmetic of the government, the alleged breakthrough comes into focus.

Taking into account that the terms of state governments last six years—the same length as the presidential terms—there have been 16 governors in each of the 32 states over 100 years. This gives a total of 512 governors, of which only 19 have been women, for a whopping 3.7 percent of the total.

These numbers need to be adjusted, of course, since Mexico City only began electing its governors in 1988 and the territories of Baja California Sur and Quintana Roo didn’t become states until 1974. Until then, there were no elections in those jurisdictions and governors were appointed by the president. Additionally, there are governors who didn't finish their terms. Taking these adjustments into account, the percentage of women elected as state governors rises to four percent.

The trend of women politicians holding high office has accelerated in the last five years. As of 2018, only nine women had been governors in seven states of Mexico: Colima, Tlaxcala, Mexico City, Zacatecas, Yucatán, Puebla and Sonora. The remaining 10 that bring the total to 19 are currently in office. Of current governors in Mexico, eight belong to Morena and two to the PAN.

These figures show how in recent years, women have gained more political representation. But this formal, quantifiable opening does much to tarnish and confuse the political content of feminist struggle.

What does it mean to have more women in politics?

More women in elected office means integrating women into the political system with the intent of replicating forms of domination, women are included as an exercise in control. This is how we could summarize the results of the formal advance of the slow process of representative expansion. Since the mid 1980s, this path has been called "gender parity."

Gender parity has basically consisted of demanding human beings with bodies that are different and/or dissident from dominant masculinity be able to occupy positions of political leadership that used to be strictly monopolized by male bodies. 

The male bodies that previously dominated politics belonged for the most part to "whitened" male landowners affiliated to elite culture and vertical structures of political control, that is to say, of political parties. In the case of Mexico, throughout the 20th century, they were members of the PRI, the state party that represented a coalition of regional and national interests, or to the PAN, a political structure made up of wealthy patriarchal families.

Beginning four decades, the bodies called to take part in the expansion of political representation were women. Later, a similar process has been repeated several times, opening up participation to other genders and to LGBTTTIQ+ people. 

The key thing here, in order not to fall victim to the confusion induced by the numbers discussed above, is to keep in mind that throughout this process there has been a push to subordinate a diversity of bodies into a rigid, historically sedimented structure that is codified in liberal and therefore monocultural terms. This is the state structure, which is designed to reinforce capitalist accumulation, contain inter-elite disputes and disorganize any breach of the patriarchal conventions and practices that dominate public life.

The question we must ask is whether the mere presence of different bodies in a highly structured institution such as the executive branch at the state or federal level—which has rigidly established functions, defined prerogatives and clearly established hierarchies—is sufficient to disrupt such a structure. 

The answer is no, it's not enough.

Almost five decades ago, Carla Lonzi, the radical Italian activist, eloquently pointed out the paradox of formal equality. Years later, the notion of formal equality produced the "gender parity” agenda with its quotas and related mechanisms.

When women begin to climb the ranks in government, they often end up becoming "honorary men," just as Lonzi warned. Their presence doesn't alter the structure, rather, the structure absorbs them, reducing any difference over the long run.

All out against violence

In Mexico and in many countries of our continent, the era of feminist rebellion that has opened over the last decade has brought the struggle against all forms of violence back to the public agenda with relentless energy.

Its momentum has allowed many women—from diverse social backgrounds, occupations, ages and political views—to recover vital energies and the words to express and confront diverse and longstanding discomforts. 

The constellation of mobilizations in recent years revitalized the language through which we name what we are experiencing. It has allowed us to find time to organize and create, and to activate the practice of being together in the streets alongside other dissident bodies.

These movements, which began from a rejection of the seemingly endless extreme violence that haunts us, have highlighted the importance of taking care of and protecting each other. Those in power have taken note of this energy, and this has undoubtedly contributed to the current political scenario.

The likely arrival of a woman as leader of the state guarantees nothing. Perhaps, however, it would be worthwhile for feminist movements to confront candidates on the most difficult issues related to the multiple and concatenated forms of violence that are tearing the social fabric.

In Mexico, that would mean asking: How they will respond to the growing public and economic role of the Army, the Navy and the National Guard, the most vertical and patriarchal institutions in our society? How do they propose to overturn the systematic production of injustice and impunity by prosecutors and courts? How will they reorganize, support and care for victims of the violence that has already been wrought?

These are just a few questions among many that can help us to distinguish between an anti-patriarchal policy toward women's liberation and the house of mirrors that is political parity.