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Falling in love with López Obrador
Mexico's Poor March to Support their "President"
By Eduardo Barraza
BARRIOZONA
July 17, 2006
BARRIOZONA
July 17, 2006
Mexico City.- Some of his supporters already call him Señor Presidente or Mr. President. Although, according to the
Federal Electoral Institute’s official result of the July 2nd presidential election, Lopez Obrador lost the election to
conservative Felipe Calderon by some 244,000 votes, but for the majority of his followers he is the real winner, and
therefore their virtual president. And that is why, as he was addressing the crowd on July 16th at the Zócalo Plaza in
Mexico City, some of the hundreds of thousands souls who filled the city’s downtown square replied to his statements,
with a cheerful, submissive “Yes, Mr. President!”
López Obrador’s speech that Sunday was the climax and the culmination of what was deemed “The march for
democracy,” a multitudinous gathering of people that was set in motion four days earlier, when people from practically all
over the country began making their way into Mexico City, and its main plaza, the Zócalo. Some six thousand of López
Obrador’s followers were estimated to have been there since Saturday, waiting for the big day, and for a chance to see
their candidate and “president.” But before he arrived at the Zócalo to deliver his speech, thousands of people had also
gathered next to the Museum of Anthropology on Sunday, 5.5 miles southwest of the Zócalo, where the march, the
candidate and his contingent were to officially begin the demonstration at 11:00 a.m.
Outside of the museum, the statue of Tlaloc, the Aztec god of rain, –a 23-foot tall, and 168-ton imposing monolith– stood
out over the group of people that quickly became a multitude. The view of the ancient idol among the bright yellow color of
the flags, the shirts and the signs, the characteristic color of López Obrador’s party and his supporters, created a
magnificent blending of ancient history and contemporary newness that reveal Mexico’s strong identity.
There, at the feet of Tlaloc, a woman fruit vendor, next to her no less colorful stand of bags of fresh, mixed pieces of
cucumbers, watermelons, and mangoes, spontaneously and timidly asked this writer: “So, what do you think about the
result of the election?” She turned out to be less assuming and more assertive than the majority of the people, who openly
and emotionally affirm that the July 2nd presidential election was rigged and fraudulent. When some demonstrators saw
BARRIOZONA’s representative, they demanded from him, a bit aggressively, to “tell the truth.” Their request would evolve
more and more into an angry complaint, when they saw the trucks transporting reporters and photographers from national
and international newspapers and magazines. “Sell out media!” they yelled out at them.
Perceiving that mainstream media in Mexico has wrongly portrayed them, they were not at ease when they spotted people
with photo cameras, notebooks, and badges. “Look, I come from Mexicali, Baja California” –a well dressed lady told
BARRIOZONA. “Nobody paid me to come all the way here, but in Mexicali I know the National Action Party (PAN) was
paying up to $1,500.00 pesos (approximately $150.00 US dollars) for people to vote for their candidate.” A young man,
who claimed to be a college student, got in the conversation saying that he knew of cases in Mexico City where the PAN
was paying $200.00 pesos to people who were willing to cast their vote for Felipe Calderón, the candidate who according
to the Federal Electoral Institute’s result won the election. “Tell the truth!” –they insisted.
Emotions went from one extreme to the other on Avenida Reforma, the main route where marchers walked that morning
toward the Zócalo. Reforma has become a traditional spot for Mexican citizens to gather, either to celebrate or protest.
Most protest rallies, such as this one, commonly go along Reforma from the Museum of Anthropology to the Zócalo, or
from the Statue of the Angel of Independence to the Zócalo or to “Los Pinos,” the presidential house.
On the south side of the avenue, where contingents of people were heading to the Zócalo already, another lady, a native of
Mexico City, was looking at two pictures she was holding in her left hand. One showed Luis Carlos Ugalde, president of
the Federal Electoral Institute, and the other one, Benito Juarez, the only full-blooded Zapotec Amerindian to serve as
President of Mexico. She was comparing the pictures –she told BARRIOZONA– because some one told her the men in
the pictures look alike. “How can they look alike?” she asks. “This one (Ugalde) looks mean; Juarez looks like a good
man.” She believes the similarity isn’t between Ugalde and Juarez, but in Juarez and López Obrador. “López Obrador has
the ideas –she says – but also a tender face, look, and expression. That’s how he earns people’s affection, and why most
people love him.”
What was supposed to be a social demonstration in support of López Obrador turned out to be a colorful parade, a folk
festival, almost a political carnival plethoric of expressions of love for the center-left candidate, and insults for current
president Vicente Fox, conservative candidate Felipe Calderón, and Luis Ugalde. The mentada de madre, the worst insult
possible in Mexico, was chanted in imaginative rhymes to accuse these men of fraud. To Andrés Manuel López Obrador in
contrast, people expressed their feelings by combining his name initials – AMLO – in a kind phrase: “AMLO TE AMO” or
“AMLO I love you.” Words of hate and love were rolling out of people’s mouths indistinctly on this sunny day, where
marchers used their same imaginative talent of rhyming phrases to dress in no less creative ways.
The bright yellow color dominated the landscape, but among the crowd, original costumes, impressive masks, allegoric
cars, shirts and signs, added a vibrant touch to an event that was as peaceful as multicolored. Men in stilts walked at a
fast pace, while others used the occasion and the live music to dance. Young people wore skull masks or masks
depicting the faces of infamous politicians. Some men carried a casket-like box, suggesting democracy was dead after
the supposed electoral fraud. A couple wore masks of president Fox and his wife Martha. They would kiss occasionally,
reenacting the highly publicized kiss Fox and “Martita”, as she’s called, gave each other on their wedding day. The man
wearing Fox’s mask also held two signs, one with a cartoon-like image of López Obrador and the legend: “PRESIDENT
LOPEZ OBRADOR,” and the other with what has became Lopez Obrador’s follower’s political slogan: “NO AL PINCHE
FRAUDE” or “No to the damn fraud.”
The marchers and bystanders’ excitement exploded when López Obrador appeared walking through the middle of
Reforma Avenue, surrounded by an army of people, and protected by two layers of volunteers’ rows, who made sure
nobody came near him. Wearing a tan jacket and a white shirt, the 53-year old man from Tabasco, Mexico, seemed
relaxed and confident, smiling and waving at those who desperately called his attention. By then, Reforma was packed on
both sides of the avenue, the crowd being so thick it caused López Obrador and his contingent to stop and wait at times. A
woman, using a microphone and a speaker, asked people who were standing on the middle of the streets to move to the
sides, reminding them of one important goal: “López Obrador has to make it to the Zócalo!”
Slowly, the candidate and the crowd following behind him were finally able to enter Avenida Juarez, and then after a more
difficult struggle – squeezed into Avenida Francisco I. Madero, a one lane street – heading directly into the Plaza de la
Constitution, the Zócalo’s official name. López Obrador’s followers were yelling, chanting frenetically, playing drums and
trumpets, reacting emotionally at his very sight. There was the man that embodies their hopes, personifies their needs,
and gives them a face and a voice. The man who they said reminds them of Juarez, whose skin color is the same as
theirs, and whose humble looks make him desirable, charismatic, powerful, and, most essentially, one of them. His
people evidently love him. The only explainable human expression to understand such a spontaneous and overwhelming
demonstration, is love; love for López Obrador.
The Zócalo that welcomed López Obrador’s triumphant entrance was already packed hours before his arrival. Again, like
in other demonstrations before and after the July 2nd election, he walked between a metal fence that cut the multitude in
half, and lead him directly onto the stage where he was to give his speech. After waving several times at the crowd, he
stood there, arms crossed, a smirk, and then a serious look. He waited patiently to take the microphones that sent his
voice throughout the Zócalo. He expressed his first phrases and paragraphs almost emotionless. He thanked all for
being there, but gave special thanks to “the humble people, the poor people.”
He called his actions a movement, “our movement.” He assured again the election’s results were “falsified.” He gave a
warning – almost a threat– to his political opponent, softened at the end with a poetic metaphor: “the stain of a fraudulent
election is not erased even with all the waters of the oceans.” He insisted that the only way to settle the social and political
unrest is to do a recount “vote by vote, poll by poll.” He repeated the phrase thirteen times: “vote by vote, poll by poll, vote by
vote, poll by poll, vote by vote, poll by poll…” The expression became a chant; people cheered enthusiastically. As López
Obrador continued delivering his discourse, his gesticulations shifted from a friendly look into a defiant one, the same
post-electoral smile-less expression of mixed emotions observers have noticed in him.
At the sametime –coincidently– the bright afternoon’s sun was covered by a heavy cloudy sky brought by hard winds that
also lifted the vinyl background behind the stage, uncovering the National Palace. It seemed as if nature was making the
crowd have a feeling of what it would be like to see López Obrador addressing them from the presidential balcony. The
sight was this close from being a reality, just as the IFE’s official count was this close from making him the winner.
Minutes after López Obrador finished his speech, the cloudy sky transformed into a soft, steady rain. The multitude –
reportedly more than a million– began dispersing in all directions, most heading for the closest subway station that stay
open. Demonstrators wrapped their flags, and walked quietly among the trash-covered pavement, while garbage
collectors began their job, quickly forming big piles of waste. Disappointed, food and other street vendors wrapped up
their stands prematurely. Perhaps they’ll be luckier on July 30th, when another mega-march was convened by López
Obrador. Another peaceful demonstration came to an end. Once again, López Obrador was the lord of the Zócalo, and of
the roaring crowd.
Looking at so many people walking away on the streets beneath the colonial buildings of Mexico City’s historic downtown,
the echo of the words said by the woman who was holding the two pictures in her hand sealed the ‘march for democracy.’
She had told BARRIOZONA’s editor earlier that morning: “In Mexico there are more poor people than rich people. The poor
people voted for López Obrador. So you tell me: who do you think won the election?”
Copyright © 2006 Hispanic Institute of Social Issues
Federal Electoral Institute’s official result of the July 2nd presidential election, Lopez Obrador lost the election to
conservative Felipe Calderon by some 244,000 votes, but for the majority of his followers he is the real winner, and
therefore their virtual president. And that is why, as he was addressing the crowd on July 16th at the Zócalo Plaza in
Mexico City, some of the hundreds of thousands souls who filled the city’s downtown square replied to his statements,
with a cheerful, submissive “Yes, Mr. President!”
López Obrador’s speech that Sunday was the climax and the culmination of what was deemed “The march for
democracy,” a multitudinous gathering of people that was set in motion four days earlier, when people from practically all
over the country began making their way into Mexico City, and its main plaza, the Zócalo. Some six thousand of López
Obrador’s followers were estimated to have been there since Saturday, waiting for the big day, and for a chance to see
their candidate and “president.” But before he arrived at the Zócalo to deliver his speech, thousands of people had also
gathered next to the Museum of Anthropology on Sunday, 5.5 miles southwest of the Zócalo, where the march, the
candidate and his contingent were to officially begin the demonstration at 11:00 a.m.
Outside of the museum, the statue of Tlaloc, the Aztec god of rain, –a 23-foot tall, and 168-ton imposing monolith– stood
out over the group of people that quickly became a multitude. The view of the ancient idol among the bright yellow color of
the flags, the shirts and the signs, the characteristic color of López Obrador’s party and his supporters, created a
magnificent blending of ancient history and contemporary newness that reveal Mexico’s strong identity.
There, at the feet of Tlaloc, a woman fruit vendor, next to her no less colorful stand of bags of fresh, mixed pieces of
cucumbers, watermelons, and mangoes, spontaneously and timidly asked this writer: “So, what do you think about the
result of the election?” She turned out to be less assuming and more assertive than the majority of the people, who openly
and emotionally affirm that the July 2nd presidential election was rigged and fraudulent. When some demonstrators saw
BARRIOZONA’s representative, they demanded from him, a bit aggressively, to “tell the truth.” Their request would evolve
more and more into an angry complaint, when they saw the trucks transporting reporters and photographers from national
and international newspapers and magazines. “Sell out media!” they yelled out at them.
Perceiving that mainstream media in Mexico has wrongly portrayed them, they were not at ease when they spotted people
with photo cameras, notebooks, and badges. “Look, I come from Mexicali, Baja California” –a well dressed lady told
BARRIOZONA. “Nobody paid me to come all the way here, but in Mexicali I know the National Action Party (PAN) was
paying up to $1,500.00 pesos (approximately $150.00 US dollars) for people to vote for their candidate.” A young man,
who claimed to be a college student, got in the conversation saying that he knew of cases in Mexico City where the PAN
was paying $200.00 pesos to people who were willing to cast their vote for Felipe Calderón, the candidate who according
to the Federal Electoral Institute’s result won the election. “Tell the truth!” –they insisted.
Emotions went from one extreme to the other on Avenida Reforma, the main route where marchers walked that morning
toward the Zócalo. Reforma has become a traditional spot for Mexican citizens to gather, either to celebrate or protest.
Most protest rallies, such as this one, commonly go along Reforma from the Museum of Anthropology to the Zócalo, or
from the Statue of the Angel of Independence to the Zócalo or to “Los Pinos,” the presidential house.
On the south side of the avenue, where contingents of people were heading to the Zócalo already, another lady, a native of
Mexico City, was looking at two pictures she was holding in her left hand. One showed Luis Carlos Ugalde, president of
the Federal Electoral Institute, and the other one, Benito Juarez, the only full-blooded Zapotec Amerindian to serve as
President of Mexico. She was comparing the pictures –she told BARRIOZONA– because some one told her the men in
the pictures look alike. “How can they look alike?” she asks. “This one (Ugalde) looks mean; Juarez looks like a good
man.” She believes the similarity isn’t between Ugalde and Juarez, but in Juarez and López Obrador. “López Obrador has
the ideas –she says – but also a tender face, look, and expression. That’s how he earns people’s affection, and why most
people love him.”
What was supposed to be a social demonstration in support of López Obrador turned out to be a colorful parade, a folk
festival, almost a political carnival plethoric of expressions of love for the center-left candidate, and insults for current
president Vicente Fox, conservative candidate Felipe Calderón, and Luis Ugalde. The mentada de madre, the worst insult
possible in Mexico, was chanted in imaginative rhymes to accuse these men of fraud. To Andrés Manuel López Obrador in
contrast, people expressed their feelings by combining his name initials – AMLO – in a kind phrase: “AMLO TE AMO” or
“AMLO I love you.” Words of hate and love were rolling out of people’s mouths indistinctly on this sunny day, where
marchers used their same imaginative talent of rhyming phrases to dress in no less creative ways.
The bright yellow color dominated the landscape, but among the crowd, original costumes, impressive masks, allegoric
cars, shirts and signs, added a vibrant touch to an event that was as peaceful as multicolored. Men in stilts walked at a
fast pace, while others used the occasion and the live music to dance. Young people wore skull masks or masks
depicting the faces of infamous politicians. Some men carried a casket-like box, suggesting democracy was dead after
the supposed electoral fraud. A couple wore masks of president Fox and his wife Martha. They would kiss occasionally,
reenacting the highly publicized kiss Fox and “Martita”, as she’s called, gave each other on their wedding day. The man
wearing Fox’s mask also held two signs, one with a cartoon-like image of López Obrador and the legend: “PRESIDENT
LOPEZ OBRADOR,” and the other with what has became Lopez Obrador’s follower’s political slogan: “NO AL PINCHE
FRAUDE” or “No to the damn fraud.”
The marchers and bystanders’ excitement exploded when López Obrador appeared walking through the middle of
Reforma Avenue, surrounded by an army of people, and protected by two layers of volunteers’ rows, who made sure
nobody came near him. Wearing a tan jacket and a white shirt, the 53-year old man from Tabasco, Mexico, seemed
relaxed and confident, smiling and waving at those who desperately called his attention. By then, Reforma was packed on
both sides of the avenue, the crowd being so thick it caused López Obrador and his contingent to stop and wait at times. A
woman, using a microphone and a speaker, asked people who were standing on the middle of the streets to move to the
sides, reminding them of one important goal: “López Obrador has to make it to the Zócalo!”
Slowly, the candidate and the crowd following behind him were finally able to enter Avenida Juarez, and then after a more
difficult struggle – squeezed into Avenida Francisco I. Madero, a one lane street – heading directly into the Plaza de la
Constitution, the Zócalo’s official name. López Obrador’s followers were yelling, chanting frenetically, playing drums and
trumpets, reacting emotionally at his very sight. There was the man that embodies their hopes, personifies their needs,
and gives them a face and a voice. The man who they said reminds them of Juarez, whose skin color is the same as
theirs, and whose humble looks make him desirable, charismatic, powerful, and, most essentially, one of them. His
people evidently love him. The only explainable human expression to understand such a spontaneous and overwhelming
demonstration, is love; love for López Obrador.
The Zócalo that welcomed López Obrador’s triumphant entrance was already packed hours before his arrival. Again, like
in other demonstrations before and after the July 2nd election, he walked between a metal fence that cut the multitude in
half, and lead him directly onto the stage where he was to give his speech. After waving several times at the crowd, he
stood there, arms crossed, a smirk, and then a serious look. He waited patiently to take the microphones that sent his
voice throughout the Zócalo. He expressed his first phrases and paragraphs almost emotionless. He thanked all for
being there, but gave special thanks to “the humble people, the poor people.”
He called his actions a movement, “our movement.” He assured again the election’s results were “falsified.” He gave a
warning – almost a threat– to his political opponent, softened at the end with a poetic metaphor: “the stain of a fraudulent
election is not erased even with all the waters of the oceans.” He insisted that the only way to settle the social and political
unrest is to do a recount “vote by vote, poll by poll.” He repeated the phrase thirteen times: “vote by vote, poll by poll, vote by
vote, poll by poll, vote by vote, poll by poll…” The expression became a chant; people cheered enthusiastically. As López
Obrador continued delivering his discourse, his gesticulations shifted from a friendly look into a defiant one, the same
post-electoral smile-less expression of mixed emotions observers have noticed in him.
At the sametime –coincidently– the bright afternoon’s sun was covered by a heavy cloudy sky brought by hard winds that
also lifted the vinyl background behind the stage, uncovering the National Palace. It seemed as if nature was making the
crowd have a feeling of what it would be like to see López Obrador addressing them from the presidential balcony. The
sight was this close from being a reality, just as the IFE’s official count was this close from making him the winner.
Minutes after López Obrador finished his speech, the cloudy sky transformed into a soft, steady rain. The multitude –
reportedly more than a million– began dispersing in all directions, most heading for the closest subway station that stay
open. Demonstrators wrapped their flags, and walked quietly among the trash-covered pavement, while garbage
collectors began their job, quickly forming big piles of waste. Disappointed, food and other street vendors wrapped up
their stands prematurely. Perhaps they’ll be luckier on July 30th, when another mega-march was convened by López
Obrador. Another peaceful demonstration came to an end. Once again, López Obrador was the lord of the Zócalo, and of
the roaring crowd.
Looking at so many people walking away on the streets beneath the colonial buildings of Mexico City’s historic downtown,
the echo of the words said by the woman who was holding the two pictures in her hand sealed the ‘march for democracy.’
She had told BARRIOZONA’s editor earlier that morning: “In Mexico there are more poor people than rich people. The poor
people voted for López Obrador. So you tell me: who do you think won the election?”
Copyright © 2006 Hispanic Institute of Social Issues
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