Mexico’s fourth transformation
Photos: Miguel Tovar for KULTURAUSTAUSCH
Six years ago, the then new President Andrés Manuel López Obrador began his term in office with a large-scale reform programme known as the ‘fourth transformation’ or ‘4T’ for short. For him, this economic policy process was nothing less than a major chapter in Mexico's history: the fourth after the struggle for independence until 1821, the civil war over the liberal constitution of 1857 and the Mexican Revolution, which raged until 1920.
Despite the pandemic, Obrador has a positive economic record: with a ‘super peso’ that has gained around 16 per cent in value against the dollar in recent years, low but stable economic growth averaging three per cent and a fall in the poverty rate from almost 44 to 36 per cent of the population. Obrador's government is now coming to an end, but with the election of Claudia Sheinbaum as the new president, Mexicans have decided in favour of a continuation of Obrador's course - and ushered in Mexico's first ever female leader.
However, the new president has to tackle a number of problems: corruption is rampant, as are impunity and violence. More than 110,000 people are currently missing, or ‘disappeared’ in Mexico. While Obrador ran with the motto ‘The poor first’, one of Sheinbaum's slogans is : ‘We can all do it!’, and many have high hopes for the new ‘Presidenta’. In the presidential elections in June 2024, many poorer, underprivileged Mexicans voted for her - and thus backed continuity. Here a survey of how people experienced the first phase of the 4T programme? What do they want, looking ahead?
Austreberta Casales turns up to our meeting with three mobile phones. A few months ago, she and her son opened a mobile phone repair service and accessories business. Today they had to close down their shop as sales were going badly and they couldn't pay the rent. But she is not discouraged. She says she'll continue to exchange mobile phone cases, batteries and displays, with or without a shop.
Aged 64, Austreberta is bursting with energy. For decades, she was an administrative employee in the music industry, back when selling CDs still earned money. She gave up the job because of health problems, but without a pension. These days, she still has to make ends meet. She has asked around and is currently thinking of opening a launderette.
It is a hot afternoon in Colonia Guerrero, in the centre of the capital. The working-class neighbourhood also has a reputation for violence. Here there are street markets and tianguis, or mobile traders. It's loud: cars, motorbikes, voices and music can be heard everywhere. Behind every doorway, entire worlds are hidden, opening up onto courtyards which have up to twenty buildings grouped around them.
Austreberta lives here, her door leads out onto a dead-end street where everyone knows who is coming and going. She puts her keys on the table, sits down and strokes her dog, Cristal. Princesa, Padme and Güera, the three puppies, come running over. Her lap barely has enough room for all of them, but Doña Austre smiles happily between her sand-coloured Chihuahuas. She was taken by surprise by the López Obrador government, she says. She thinks the universal pension for older people is a good plan, even though she does not yet receive it herself. “Before, we were pretty helpless,” she explains. She would like to see this policy continued.
The new President Claudia Sheinbaum has announced a pension for women between 60 and 64. I think that's great because we give everything for our children and end up with nothing [...]. It's great help, because we older people are dependent on our children, now we at least get something to eat when we're elderly. We can't find work any more either. There are no jobs for older people. The scholarships for students are an incentive to get a degree or go to school. Many don't do this because they lack school supplies. Now there will be fewer dropouts and we can continue to expand education: we need educated people who will work to change the country.
Austreberta will soon be 65, and she's really looking forward to it because she can then apply for her pension. The support means more to her than just money: it is a signal that people want to provide for the elderly. Because “sometimes we don't feel life anymore, we're just at home. We only live for a long life but can no longer move. With the money I get, I'll go to the cinema, do something for myself [...]. We have the right to a quiet life and not to have to beg our children for help.”
Eutiquia García has been working almost all her life. She started at the age of twelve and is now 52 years old. Like many girls from the countryside, she had no opportunity to study. She had to finish school as a teenager and find a job to support her family and herself. The farmer's daughter, second of 14 siblings, toiled in the assembly line, in a tortilla factory and in a restaurant. Aged 15, she moved to the city, cleaned in private households, like for millions of other country girls, housework became her profession.
It is an industry with a long history of injustice: low wages, racism and abuse bordering on slavery. One employer didn't like Eutiquia's name and demanded that she change it.
Despite everything, she has enjoyed every one of her jobs. She has raised three children, finished school as an adult and is now in the process of buying a flat with a loan from the capital's government. She lives in the Zona Sur, in the south, and travels long distances to work every day by bus; at her home, in the streets on the hill, you can already smell the nearby forest.
Interviews make Euti nervous. She struggles to find the right words in her limited vocabulary, and her answers give an idea of how much racism she has already experienced in her life. But when it comes to voting, her tone changes, and she answers confidently: She has always voted. And, she adds, that here, where there have been decades of electoral fraud at the expense of the poor, ‘I have never sold my vote.’
How has the 4T-Programme affected you and your family? Andrés Manuel [López Obrador] has changed the country, I don't get any support from the government, but my mother receives an old-age pension. She, her husband and my father all get the new pension now, and before they had nothing. This helps them with the fields, the sowing, and their food. My grandson Santiago gets a scholarship, goes to a public school, and he has been supported since kindergarden. They use the money to buy his school supplies, uniforms, and whatever else he needs every month.
What has improved? Wages. The minimum wage is now raised every year, whereas it used to remain unchanged for three or four years.
like many people from low-income backgrounds, Eutiquia speaks openly about her support for 4T. This is new; in the past, many people were afraid to express their political opinions. When asked what she doesn't like or what she is worried about for the future, she mentions three things: firstly, corruption. She knows people who don't work but still take part in the ‘Jóvenes Construyendoel Futuro’ (‘Young people build the future’) programme, which aims to make it easier for them to get their first job. She would like ‘the programme to be monitored more closely, there are young people who really need it’.
Her second concern is safety, ‘people are being killed. That should change. I want to be safe on the street.’
Thirdly, she mentions the healthcare system: ‘That you can get treatment in hospital and not be treated badly or sent away. When it comes to health, people need more rights.’ Since 2023, social insurance has been mandatory for domestic professions. Eutiquia was already covered when the new policy to better value domestic workers was introduced - her employers were already paying pension and health insurance contributions for her. This enabled her to have a necessary operation and covered the costs of several hospital stays. Eutiquiale suffers from an autoimmune disease. She was hospitalised two months ago. She was stabilised but has been waiting more than a month for an appointment with a hematologist. The public hospital where she is being treated no longer has any specialists in this field.
Raúl Ramírez Florido is 65 years old, he started working when he was 14. He has been selling food at Coyoacán market for around forty years now: cheese, eggs, tostadas, beans, grains, tinned food, milk, pasta, coffee and much more, from seven in the morning to seven in the evening, six days a week. He has a break on Wednesdays. It’s an exhausting life.
Raúl seems well informed and comments on the political situation in Mexico and abroad for his customers. ‘What do you think about Javier Milei’s victory?’ he asks me after the elections in Argentina. As far as Mexican current affairs are concerned, he is particularly interested in the critical news about López Obrador’s government. He doesn’t agree with 4T at all.
How do you view the situation in Mexico right now? Contradictory. Economically, the country is more or less stable, but there is strong social polarisation and no longer any common ground. The president has taken action against this. But he has also used the social programmes to stay in office; I don’t think that’s right, they're distributed according to the watering can principle [...], in the case of pupils it doesn’t make sense to me that they just get a scholarship from kindergarten to senior school, most of them don’t need it and don’t deserve it. There are children who do everything they can to learn and others who don’t. I think a scholarship has to be a reward for effort or a social help.
What do you mean with polarisation? The president has said: ‘Anyone who is not for me is against me.’ Polarisation is pronounced and people are being very, very stupid. He has insulted the students, the middle class and also the intellectuals. He has cut programmes, abolished trust funds, he has abolished many things that directly affect the intellectuals, the students and the middle class and yet many of them voted for him!
Raúl talks himself into a rage while giving his take on López Obrador, but he also enjoys the discussion. “Today he comes up with the idea that twenty reforms would be good, and everyone is already talking about reforms! No! Why is he setting the agenda? Ignore him, and that’s that.” Raúl is of the opinion that the government is “the same or worse” than the previous one. As an example, he mentions the construction of the airport in Texcoco, a project by former President Enrique Peña Nieto, which Obrador cancelled on the grounds that corruption had occurred and public money had been wasted. In return, Raúl mentions the recent expansion of the airport in Santa Lucía, which Obrador decided on, but where there were also allegations of corruption. Raúl says that “the same companies are still working for the government, in plain language: the mafia of the powerful, as López Obrador calls them, are still working with him and for him”.
Raúl is also not particularly enthusiastic about Claudia Sheinbaum, the first woman to hold the office of president. He believes that López Obrador will continue to dictate policy in this way and “immortalise himself in power through”. Then some more customers arrive and Raúl has no time to talk; he gets back to work.
Verónica Razo had 4593 days stolen from her. On 8 June 2011, she was abducted by plainclothes police officers and sexually, physically and psychologically tortured until she signed a confession. They fabricated a crime that she was supposed to have committed. A practice that thousands of people fell victim to in the so-called ‘war on drugs’, partly because the authorities wanted to publicise supposed success stories and needed the corresponding - falsified - statistics.
Verónica spent more than twelve years in prison for being innocent. She was acquitted six months ago and has been living in freedom ever since. She is still unemployed and is trying to understand the vastly changed world. She does not entirely agree with 4T, “some approaches are good, others are not”.
She is concerned about the economy, labour and health, “especially because of the lack of medication”. She is also concerned about the issue of justice. In 2020, López Obrador admitted that thousands of people were wrongly imprisoned due to procedural errors, discrimination or arbitrary arrests. Or, as in Verónica’s case, for fabricated crimes. He promised an amnesty, but this never came into force. Verónica has “given up hope. I would like many things to change, but I know it won’t happen.”
T4 includes judicial reform where judges are elected by the people, what do you think about that? That would be wonderful. Because the judges feel untouchable. Even if the law is clear-cut, they do what they want. [...] They criticise it [the possible reform] because it doesn’t suit them, because they want to keep giving jobs to their cousins, friends or neighbours or solve problems with a lot of money. That is bureaucracy and corruption. I hope that Claudia can implement the projects for real change for which she was rewarded with her good result. But under the scrutiny of a critical public!
Judges should be elected. That would be good, otherwise no one can take their offices away from them. Judges have no empathy and don't know what they are doing. You're just a file, and as long as they get paid, they don’t care about the rest.
The judges who decided Verónica’s fate never met her once in eleven years. They never looked her in the face and never spoke to her. She asked for a hearing countless times and always received the same answer: “There’s no time.”
Angélica Jazmín Navarro Arroyo, 36 years old, small, looks fragile. She rides her motorbike through the chaotic metropolis of Mexico City. “It's not that big, just 150 cubic centimetres,” she says with a laugh, playing down her bravery. She is a photographer with a degree in communication, works in public administration and designs strategies to protect women from violence. A difficult task in a country where machismo, inequality in the world of work and ten femicides a day are considered normal.
Angie has very personal experience of this issue herself. Her father killed her mother. Two aunts shared the care of the younger siblings and she, the eldest, was left alone in the capital. She was a teenager then. She tells her story openly, without victimising herself. She speaks calmly about what happened to her. She does not hide her admiration for López Obrador either: “He is someone who has been harmed a lot, who has often been cheated, and so he has become the face of all those who have had similar things done to them.”
She emphasises that when the pandemic hit the country, the president “had to improvise, and in my view he did a very good job and did not put the country in debt’. She emphasises the progress made without losing sight of reality: ‘You can't put right in six years what has gone wrong in 36 years of neoliberalism, or in 200 years of exploitative rule.”
Angie is clearly speaking from her own worst experience: “My mother was murdered when I was 16 years old. Coming of age on my own, looking for a job and going back to school was hard. I was invisible.” But it was people from Obrador's government who helped Angie: “They told me they had work for me.” They got to know Angélica, then an unemployed activist, at an event. And they offered her a job in public administration.
What do you think of the social programmes? They can achieve a lot. I had to work during my studies. That was very difficult [...]. After my mother was murdered, my father went to prison. So I was alone. Sometimes I had to calculate: “I can afford a tin of tuna, but I have an exam, so I'll eat it in the afternoon so I can get through the exam better.” That was my reality. I had a scholarship for excellence and I used it to buy the tuna. I had to pay the rent from my wages [...]. I see [scholarships] as an investment in young people so that they don't have to go hungry. And if you want to look at it as an expense, it's better to spend money on that than on certain eccentric escapades that Mexico has experienced under previous governments.
Angélica is happy with her current predicament and that she is able to experience this historic moment. With regard to 4T, she talks about an uncertain outcome of all the changes. She hopes that the new president will communicate clearly and directly with citizens - and: “I would like her to reform the way we work.” In other words, a reduction in the working week from the current 48 to forty hours, another point envisaged as part of 4T.
What does it mean for you and your country to have a woman as president for the first time? I think it sheds new light on this macho dynamic that we continue to see at home, in the workplace and on the streets. As president, when she attends a conference, explains a decree or travels around the country, Mexico will face a big challenge to focus on her work, not what she's wearing. She was once criticised for a trouser hem that was fastened with a clip [...].
We have had a cabinet with equal representation since 2018 and ten female governors, so we already have women in positions of power. However, they often had to adopt a masculine attitude in order to assert themselves, they had to become a bit of a man to be taken seriously. I think the ‘Doctora Claudia’ will have a similar experience. You can't expect her to be gentle just yet. First of all, we need a symbol, and the very fact that she is sitting in the president's chair as a woman is a strong symbol. The first step has been taken.