Barbarous Mexico/Chapter 16
CHAPTER XVI
DIAZ HIMSELF
"But Diaz himself—isn't he a pretty good sort of fellow?"
It is a question that almost invariably rises to the lips of the average American when he learns for the first time of the slavery, peonage and political oppression of Mexico. Though the question is only another evidence that the Diaz press agents have done their work well, yet it is one that may very well be examined separately.
The current American estimate of Porfirio Diaz, at least up to the past year or two, has indeed been that he is a very good fellow. Theodore Roosevelt, in writing to James Creelman after the publication in Pearson's Magazine of the latter's famous laudatory article, declared that among contemporary statesmen there was none greater than Porfirio Diaz. In the same year, during a trip to Mexico, William Jennings Bryan spoke in the most eulogistic terms of Diaz's "great work." David Starr Jordan of Stanford University, in recent speeches, has echoed Creelman's assertion that Diaz is the greatest man in the western hemisphere. And hundreds of our most distinguished citizens have expressed themselves in a similar vein. On the part of prominent Americans traveling in Mexico, it has become a custom, a sort of formality of the trip, to banquet at Chapultepec castle—the lesser lights at Chapultepec cafe—and to raise the after-dinner voice in most extravagant praise, loudly to attribute to Porfirio Diaz the virtues of a superman, even of a demi-god.
Were not the facts overwhelmingly to the contrary, did not the easily provable acts of Porfirio Diaz tell an entirely different story, I would not presume to question the estimates of such men, especially when those estimates agree and are accepted generally as correct. But when the facts speak for themselves, it matters not how obscure may be the individual who brings them to light. It matters not, even, how distinguished the men who disregard those facts, for facts are greater than men. Current Literature, in calling attention to the new conception of Porfirio Diaz that has of late been gaining ground in America, refers to Diaz as a man of mystery. "Is he a sublime statesman or is he a colossal criminal?" it inquires. To which I would reply that we have our ideals of statesmanship and our concepts of criminality; all we need upon which to base an estimate are the facts of the life of the man in question. Given the facts and the mystery dispels itself.
In judging the life of a man, especially of a man who has decided the fate of thousands, who has "saved a nation," or wrecked it, small virtues and small vices count for little; insignificant acts of good or ill are important only in the aggregate. A man may have committed grave crimes, yet if he has brought more joy to the world than sorrow, he should be judged kindly. On the other hand, he may be credited with laudable deeds, yet if he has locked the wheels of progress for a time to feed his own ambition, history will not acquit him of the crime. It is the balance that counts; it is the scales that decide. Will not Porfirio Diaz, when weighed in the balance of his good and evil deeds, be found wanting—terribly wanting? His friends may sing his praises. but when they, his best friends, begin to specify, to point out their reasons for selecting him for a high niche in the hall of good fame, is it not found that they themselves become, instead of his advocates, his prosecutors? Out of even their mouths is he not convicted and by those our ideals of statesmanship and our concepts of criminality will we not judge him, not a statesman, but a criminal, and because there is no individual man in the world who wields so much power over so many human beings, will we not judge him the most colossal criminal of our time?
It is curious, this almost universal feeling—in this country—that Porfirio Diaz is a very good fellow. But it can be explained. For one thing, individuals who have not had the opportunity to judge a particular man or thing for themselves, though they be college presidents and congressmen, are apt to accept the word of others as to that man or thing. Porfirio Diaz, knowing this and valuing the good opinions of men who do not know, has spent millions for printer's ink in this country. For another thing, most men are susceptible to flattery and Diaz is a good flatterer. As prominent Catholics journeying to Rome seek an audience with the Pope, so Americans traveling to Mexico seek an audience with General Diaz; they usually get it and are flattered. Still again, to paraphrase an old proverb, men not only do not look a gift horse in the mouth, but they do not look the giver in the mouth. Despite the ancient warning, men do not usually beware of the Greeks when they bring gifts; and Diaz is free with gifts to men whose good opinion is influential with others. Finally, there is nothing that succeeds like success, and Diaz has succeeded. Power dazzles the strong as well as the weak and Diaz's power has dazzled men and cowed them until they had not the courage to look steadily at the glare long enough to see the bones and carrion behind it. I do not for a minute imagine that any decent American approves of the acts of Porfirio Diaz. I merely guess that they—the decent ones—are ignorant of those deeds and are moved to strong praise by having accepted the word of others—and by the dazzle of success.
As for me, I do not come with a new ideal of statesmanship with which to change your opinions, but I come with facts. With those facts before you, if you hold Washington a great statesman, or Jefferson, or Lincoln, or any other enduring light of American political history, I am sure you cannot at the same time hold Porfirio Diaz a great statesman. What Porfirio Diaz has done, Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, would have abhorred to do, and you yourself would abhor to do or see done, are you really an admirer of any or all of these men.
Porfirio Diaz is truly a striking figure. He must be a genius of a sort and there must actually be some traits of character about him to be admired. Let us examine some of his acts with a view to discovering whether or not he may justly be called the greatest living statesman or "the grandest man in the Americas."
First let us examine those broadly general allegations upon which is based his good fame abroad. Chief among these are three, that Diaz has "made modern Mexico," that he brought peace to Mexico and should therefore stand as a sort of prince of peace, and that he a model of virtue in his private life.
Did Porfirio Diaz "make" modern Mexico? Is Mexico modern? Hardly. Neither industrially nor in the matter of public education, nor in the form of government is Mexico modern. Industrially, it is at least a quarter of a century behind the times; in the matter of public education it is at least a half century behind the times; in its system of government it is worthy of the Egypt of three thousand years ago.
True, Mexico has seen some advancement in some lines—especially industrially—during the past thirty-four years. But that mere fact does not argue any propelling force on the part of Porfirio Diaz. In order to show that Diaz was the special propelling force will it not be necessary to show that Mexico has advanced in that period faster than other countries? And should it be shown that Mexico has advanced more slowly than almost any other large nation in the world in the past thirty-four years, would it not be logical to attribute to Diaz at least some of that retarding force?
Consider the United States thirty-four years ago and then today, and then consider Mexico. Consider that the world has been built over, industrially, in the past thirty-four years. To make the comparison perfectly unassailable, disregard the United States and European countries and compare the progress of Mexico with other Latin-American countries. Among persons who have traveled extensively in Argentine, Chili, Brazil and even Cuba, and Mexico, there is a pretty good agreement that Mexico is the most backward of the five—in the matter of government, in the matter of public education, even industrially. Who made Argentine? Who made Chili? Who made Brazil? Why don't we find a "maker" of these countries? The fact is that whatever modernization Mexico has had during the past thirty-four years must be attributed to evolution—that is, to the general progress of the world—instead of to Porfirio Diaz. In general, Porfirio Diaz has been a reactionary force. His claims for being progressive are all based upon one fact—upon his having "encouraged" foreign capital.
"Diaz, the peace-maker, the greatest peace-maker alive, greater than Roosevelt!" chanted an American politician in a banquet at the Mexican capital recently. And the chant was only an echo of louder voices. I remember seeing, not long ago, a news item stating that the American Peace Society had made Porfirio Diaz an honorary vice-president, in consideration of his having brought peace to Mexico. The theory seems to be that since the history of Mexico before Diaz was full of wars and violent changes in the government and the history of Mexico under Diaz has been without violent upheavals of far-reaching effect, Diaz must necessarily be a humane, Christ-like creature who shrinks at the mention of bloodshed and whose example of loving-kindness is so compelling that none of his subjects have the heart to do anything but emulate him.
In answer to which it will only be necessary to refer the reader to my account of how Diaz began his career as a statesmen by deliberately breaking the peace of Mexico himself, and how he has been breaking the peace ever since—by making bloody war upon the self-respecting, democratic elements among his people. He has kept the peace—if it can be called keeping the peace—by killing off his opponents as fast as their heads have appeared above the horizon. This sort of peace is what the Mexican writer DeZayas calls "mechanical peace." It has no virtue, because the fruits of legitimate peace fail to ripen under it. It neither brings happiness to the nation, nor prepares the nation for happiness. It prepares it only for violent revolution.
For more than twenty years before arriving at the supreme power in Mexico Diaz had been a professional soldier and almost continually in the field. The wars of those times were by no means unnecessary affairs, Mexico did not fight simply because it is the Mexican character to be looking always for trouble, for it isn't. Diaz fought in the Three Years War, in which the throttling grip of the Catholic church on the throat of the nation was broken and the nation secured a real republican constitution. Afterwards he fought in the War of Maximilian, which ended in the execution of the Austrian prince whom the armies of Napoleon Third had seated as emperor.
During these twenty odd years Diaz fought on the side of Mexico and patriotism. He probably fought no more wisely nor energetically than thousands of other Mexicans, but he had the good luck to have become acquainted in his youth with Benito Juarez, who, years later, as father of the constitution and constitutional president, guided the destinies of the country safely through many troublous years. Juarez remembered Diaz, watched his work and promoted him gradually from one rank to another until, at the downfall of Maximilian, Don Porfirio held a rank which in our country would carry the title of major-general. Note how Diaz repaid the favors of Juarez.
Following the overthrow of Maximilian, peace reigned in Mexico. Juarez was president. The constitution was put into operation. The people were sick unto death of war. There threatened neither foreign foe nor internal revolt. Yet the ambitious Diaz wantonly and without any plausible excuse stirred up rebellion after rebellion for the purpose of securing for himself the supreme power of the land.
There is evidence that Diaz began plotting to seize the presidency even before the fall of the empire. During those last days when Maximilian was penned up in Queretaro friends of Diaz approached several military leaders and proposed that they form a military party to secure the presidency by force of arms, which prize would be raffled off among Generals Diaz, Corona and Escobedo. General Escobedo refused to enter into the conspiracy and the plan consequently fell through. Diaz, who was at that time besieging Mexico City, then effected a secret combination with the church to overthrow the Liberal government. According to one writer, he intentionally delayed taking the metropolis and asked General Escobedo for two of his strongest divisions, which he planned to turn against Juarez. But Juarez received word of the plot in time and instructed General Escobedo to send two of his strongest divisions under command of General Corona and General Regules, respectively, with orders to destroy the treachery of Diaz, should it arise. When the reinforcements arrived Diaz tried to get them entirely in his power by appointing new officers, but Corona and Regules stood firm, and Diaz, realizing that he had been anticipated, abandoned his plot.
Immediately after the coming of peace Juarez appointed Diaz commander of that part of the army stationed in Oaxaca and Diaz used the power thus secured to control the state elections and impose himself as governor. After his defeat for the presidency Diaz started a revolution, known as "La Ciudadela," The Citadel, but the uprising was crushed in one decisive meeting with the government troops. Six weeks later Diaz started a second revolution, calling his friends to arms under what is known as the "Plan de Noria," a platform, in reality, in which the leading demand was for an amendment to the constitution absolutely forbidding the re-election of either president or governors. This rebellion also met with ignominious defeat on the battlefield at the hands of the government forces, and when Juarez died in July, 1872, Diaz was a fugitive from justice. During one of these little rebellions of the present superman Juarez is said to have captured and brought Diaz before him and told him that he deserved to be shot like a rebel, but that the country would take into consideration his services rendered during the War of Intervention.
After the death of Juarez, Diaz prosecuted a successful revolution, but only after four years more of plotting and rebelling. The people of the country were overwhelmingly against him, but he found one very definite interest upon which to play. That, far from being a peaceful and legitimate interest, was a military interest, the interest of the chiefs of the army and of those who had made their living by killing and plundering. The government of Juarez and the government of Lerdo both carried out, after peace came, a sweeping anti-militarist policy. They announced their intention of reducing the army and proceeded to reduce the army. Thereupon the chiefs thereof, seeing their glory departing from them, became fertile ground for the seeds of rebellion which Diaz was strewing broadcast. Diaz gave these army chiefs to understand that under him they would not be shorn of their military splendor, but, on the other hand, that they would be raised to positions of higher power.
Lerdo issued an amnesty to all revolutionists and Diaz was safe from prosecution as a rebel. But instead of employing the freedom thus given to useful and honorable pursuits, he used it to facilitate his plotting until, in January, 1876, he started his third revolution, issuing his "Plan de Tuxtepec," in which he again demanded a change prohibiting the re-election of the president.
For nearly a year Diaz prosecuted his third revolution, during that time issuing another manifesto, the "Plan de Palo Blanco," which gave his operations the aspect of still another and a fourth revolution. It was under this plan that the rebel leader finally gained a decisive victory over government troops and soon afterwards led his army into the capital and declared himself provisional president. A few days later he held a farcical election, in which he placed soldiers in possession of the polls and permitted neither rival candidates to appear nor opposition votes to be cast.
Thus in 1876, more than a generation ago, Porfirio Diaz came to the head of the Mexican state a rebel in arms. He broke the peace of Mexico to begin with, and he has continued to break the peace by periodical and wholesale butcheries of his people. General Porfirio Diaz, the "greatest living peace-maker," "prince of peace!" It is a sacrilege!
That the Mexican dictator has not fallen a victim to the physical debaucheries that sometimes over-tempt men suddenly risen to great power is undoubtedly true. But what of it? Certainly no one will argue that, since a man keeps clean physically, he has a right to misgovern a country and assassinate a people. Personal cleanliness, physical temperance and marital virtue do not in the least determine the standing a man deserves as a statesman.
Thus it will be seen that the allegations upon which the good fame of General Diaz is based have no foundation in fact. Moreover, none of his flatterers have so far discovered in him any claims for greatness any better substantiated than those mentioned.
Diaz has some personal abilities, such as a genius for organization, keen judgment of human nature, and industry, but these do not determine that his public acts shall be beneficent. Like the virtues the devout Methodist lady attributed to the Devil, industry and persistence, they merely render him more efficient in what he does. If he chooses to do good, they become virtues; if he chooses to do ill, they may very properly be incorporated with his vices.
The flatterers of Porfirio Diaz are wont to speak in generalities, for otherwise they would come to grief. On the other hand, a large book could be written recounting his evil deeds and contemptible traits. Ingratitude is one of the charges least worthy of mention that are made against him. Benito Juarez made the career of Porfirio Diaz. Every promotion which Diaz received was given him by the hands of Juarez. Nevertheless, Diaz turned against his country and his friend, started rebellion after rebellion and made the last days of the great patriot turbulent and unhappy.
Yet, to portray the other side, Diaz has shown gratitude to some of his friends, and in doing so he has at the same time exhibited his utter disregard for the public welfare. An Indian named Cahuantzi, illiterate but rich, was Diaz's friend when the latter was in rebellion against Juarez and Lerdo. Cahuantzi furnished the rebel with horses and money and when Diaz captured the supreme power he did not forget. He made Cahuantzi governor of Tlaxcala and sent him a teacher that he might learn to sign his name to documents of state. He retained Cahuantzi as governor of the state of Tlaxcala, giving him free rein to rob and plunder at will. He kept Cahuantzi there for thirty-four years, down to this day.
A similar case was that of Manuel Gonzalez, a compadre who aided the Diaz rebellions and whom Diaz substituted for himself in the presidential chair from 1880 to 1884. After Gonzalez had served his purpose in the federal government Don Porfirio presented him with the state government of Guanajuato, where he reigned until his death. Gonzalez was wont to boast that the government had killed all the bandits in Guanajuato but himself, that he was the only bandit tolerated in that state.
The flatterers of Diaz tell of his intellectual ability, but of his culture they dare say nothing. The question as to whether or not he is a cultivated man would seem important inasmuch as it would determine somewhat the distribution of culture among the people whom he controls so absolutely. Diaz is intelligent, but his intelligence may very well be denominated a criminal intelligence—such as is needed at the head of a great freebooter corporation or an organization such as Tammany Hall. In devising ways and means to strengthen his personal power Diaz's intelligence has risen even to genius, but of refinement and culture he possesses little or none. Despite the necessity of his meeting foreigners almost daily he has never learned English nor any other foreign language. He never reads anything but press clippings and books about himself and he never studies anything but the art of keeping himself in power. He is interested in neither music, art, literature nor the drama and the encouragement he gives to these things is negligible. Mexico's drama is imported from Spain, Italy and France. Her literature is imported from France and Spain. Her art and music are likewise imported. Within a century past art flourished in Mexico, but now her art is decadent—choked like her budding literature, by the thorns of political tyranny.
General education in Mexico is appallingly absent. The flatterers of Diaz tell of the schools that he has established, but the investigator fails to find these schools. They are mostly on paper. There is practically no such thing as country schools in Mexico, while towns of many hundreds of inhabitants often have no school whatsoever. Nominally there are schools in such towns, but actually there are none because the governors of the various states prefer to keep the expense money for themselves. While traveling in the rural districts of the state of Mexico, for example, I learned that scores of schools in small towns had been closed for three years because the governor, General Fernando Gonzalez, had withheld the money, explaining to the local authorities that he needed it for other purposes. The fact that there is no adequate public school system in Mexico is attested by the most recent official census (1900), which goes to show that but 16 per cent of the population are able to read and write. Compare this with Japan, an over-populated country where the people are very poor and where the opportunities for education seemingly ought not to be so good. Ninety-eight per cent of Japanese men and 93 per cent of Japanese women are able to read and write. The sort of educational ideals held by President Diaz is shown in the schools that are running, where a most important item in the curriculum is military study and training!
Is Diaz humane? The question is almost superfluous, inasmuch as few of his admirers credit him with this trait. All admit that he has been severe and harsh, even brutal, in his treatment of his enemies, while some of them even relate deeds of the most bloodthirsty cruelty—relate them with gusto, condemning not at all, but treating the incidents as if they were merely some excusable eccentricities of genius! The wholesale killings carried out by the orders of Diaz, the torture perpetrated in his prisons, the slavery of hundreds of thousands of his people, the heart-breaking poverty which he sees every time he leaves his palace, and which he could greatly ameliorate if he wished, are of themselves sufficient proof of his inhumanity.
Cruelty was undoubtedly a part of his inheritance, for his father, a horse-breaker by trade, was noted for it. Horses which did not yield readily Chepe Diaz, the father, killed, and others he chastised with a whip tipped with a steel star, which he landed on the belly, the most tender part of the poor brute. For this reason the people of Oaxaca, the birthplace of Diaz, patronized the father but little, and he was poor. That inherited trait showed itself in Porfirio at an extremely tender age, for while only a child Porfirio, becoming angry at his brother over a trivial matter, filled his brother's nostrils with gunpowder while he was asleep and touched a match to it. From that time Felix was known as "Chato" (Pug-nose) Diaz. "For Porfirio Diaz"—in the words of Gutierrez De Lara, "the people of Mexico have been the horse."
As a military commander Diaz was noted for his cruelty to his own soldiers and to any portion of the enemy that happened to fall into his Hands. Several Mexican writers mention unwarranted acts of severity and executions of subordinates ordered in the heat of passion. Revenge is a twin brother of cruelty and Diaz was revengeful. Terrible was the revenge visited by the child upon his sleeping brother and terrible was the revenge visited upon the town where his brother many years later met a tragic death.
Accounts of the incident differ, but all authorities agree that the massacre at Juchitan, Oaxaca, was done in cold blood, indiscriminately and out of revenge. On becoming president, Diaz installed his brother "Chato" as governor of Oaxaca. "Chato" was a drunkard and a libertine and he was killed while over-riding the personal liberties of the people of the town of Juchitan. Many weeks later, long after the uprising of a day had passed, President Diaz sent troops to Juchitan who, according to one writer, suddenly appeared one evening in the public square where the people had gathered to listen to the music of a band, and poured volley after volley into the crowd, continuing to fire until all the people left in the square were dead or dying on the ground.
Such killings have been a recognized policy of the Diaz rule. The Rio Blanco massacre, the details of which were set forth in a previous chapter, took place after the town was entirely quiet. The executions in Cananea were carried out with little discrimination and after the alleged disturbance of the strikers was over. The summary executions at Velardena in the Spring of 1909 all took place after the so-called riot was over. And other instances could be given. It may be suggested that in some of these cases not Diaz, but an underling, was responsible. But it is well known that Diaz usually gave the orders for distributing indiscriminate death. That he approves of such a policy as a policy is shown by his remarkable toast to General Bernardo Reyes, after the Monterey massacre in 1903. when he said: "Senor General, that is the way to govern.” The inhuman methods used by Diaz to exterminate the Yaqui Indians have been exploited in a previous chapter. One of his famous Yaqui orders which, however, I did not mention, not only exhibits his rude and uncultured ideas of justice, but it paints his cruelty as most diabolical. Several years ago, after various employers of labor of the state of Sonora had protested against the wholesale deportation of the Yaquis because they needed the Yaquis as farm and mine laborers, Diaz, in order to pacify the aforesaid employers, modified his deportation decree to read substantially as follows: "No more Yaquis are to be deported except in case of offenses being committed by Yaquis. For every offense hereafter committed by any Yaqui 500 Yaquis are to be rounded up and deported to Yucatan."
This decree is attested to by no less a personage than Francisco I. Madero, the distinguished citizen of the state of Coahuila, who dared oppose Diaz in the presidential campaign of 1910. The decree was carried out, or at least the stream of Yaqui exiles kept on. Cruel and revengeful is the Mexican president and bitterly has his nation suffered as a result of it.
Is Diaz a brave man? In some quarters it has been taken for granted that he is a man of courage, inasmuch as he made a success as a soldier. But there are many distinguished Mexicans who, having watched his career, assert that he is not only not brave, but that he is a shrinking, cringing coward. And they point to numerous accepted facts to support their assertion. When the news of the uprising at Las Vacas reached him in the last days of June, 1908, Diaz was suddenly taken sick and for five days he staid in his bed. In high government circles it was whispered about—and the fact is alleged to have come from one of his physicians—that he was suffering from a common malady which comes upon one overpowered by acute and panicky fear.
The fact that when Diaz seized the power he carefully excluded from any part in the government each and every one of the most popular and able Mexicans of the day is attributed to fear. The fact that he maintains a large army which he distributes in every quarter of the country, and a huge secret police system armed with extraordinary power to kill on suspicion, the terrible way in which he gets rid of his enemies, his bloody massacres themselves, even his muzzling of the press, are all attributed to arrant cowardice. In his book "Diaz, Czar of Mexico," Carlo de Fornaro voices this belief in the cowardice of Diaz and reasons quite effectively upon it. He says:
"Like all people quick to anger he (Diaz) is not really fearless, for as the jungle song says, 'Anger is the egg of fear.' Fearful and therefore ever vigilant, he was saved from destruction by this alertness, as the hare is preserved from capture by his long ears. He mistook cruelty for strength of character and consequently was ever ready to terrorize for fear of being thought weak. As a result of the outrageous nickel law and the payment of the famous English debt in the period of Gonzalez, there happened a mutiny. 'Knife them all,' suggested Porfirio Diaz to Gonzalez. But Gonzalez was not afraid.
"Last year, on the 16th of September, as the Mexican students desired to parade on the streets of the capital, they sent their representative, a Mr. Olea, to beg the President's permission. Porfirio Diaz answered: 'Yes, but beware, for the Mexicans have revolutionary tendencies lurking in their blood.' Think of three score of youngsters parading unarmed being a menace to the republic, with 5,000 soldiers, rurales and policemen in the capital!
"It is only by admitting this shameful well-hidden stigma on the apparently brave front of this man that we can logically explain such despicable and infamous acts as the massacres of Veracruz and Orizaba. He was then panic-stricken, like aHand in hand with cruelty and cowardice often travels hypocrisy and of the three Diaz is not the least endowed with hypocrisy. Constantly is he foisting new shams and deceptions and farces upon the public. His election farces and his periodical pretense of wishing to retire from the presidency and the reluctantly yielding to a universal demand on the part of his people have already been referred to, Diaz's rule began in hypocrisy, for he went into office on a platform which he had no notion of carrying out. He pretended to consider the doctrine of non-re-election of president and governors of enough importance to warrant turning the nation over in a revolution, yet as soon as he had entrenched himself in power he proceeded to re-elect himself as well as his governors on to the end of time.
When Elihu Root went in to Mexico to see Diaz and to arrange some matters in regard to Magdalena Bay Diaz was desirous of showing Root that the Mexican people were not as poverty-stricken as they had been painted. He therefore, through his Department of the Interior, distributed the day before Root's arrival in the capital, 5,000 pairs of new pantaloons among that class of workmen who were habitually most prominently on the streets. In spite of orders that the pants were to be worn, the majority of them were promptly exchanged for food, and so Mr. Root was probably not very badly fooled. The incident merely goes to show to what extents the petty hypocrisy of the Mexican ruler sometimes goes.
Diaz is the head of the Masons in Mexico, yet he nominates every new bishop and archbishop the country gets. Church marriages are not recognized as legal, yet Diaz has favored the church so far as to refuse to enact a divorce law, so that today there is no such thing as divorce or re-marriage during the life of both parties in Mexico. Constantly is Diaz trying to fool the people as to his own motives. He brought about the merger under national control of the two leading railway systems of the country, ostensibly to put the railways where the government can use them best in time of war, but actually in order to give his friends an opportunity to make millions in the juggling of securities. Deceits of this class could be enumerated ad infinitum.
One of the most notable hypocritical antics of Diaz is his pretended concurrence in the overwhelmingly popular idolatry of the patriot Juarez. It will be remembered that when Juarez died Diaz was in revolution against him and that therefore if it is conceded that Juarez was a great statesman it must be admitted that Diaz was wrong in rebelling. Diaz undoubtedly recognized this fact and some ten years ago he is said to have aided secretly the publication and circulation of a book which attempted, by new and cleverly written interpretations of the acts of Juarez, to make out the father of the constitution a great blunderer instead of a great statesman. This failed to turn the tide against Juarez, however, and Diaz fell in with the tide until nowadays we see him every year, on the occasion of the birthday of Juarez, delivering a eulogistic speech over the tomb of the man against whom he rebelled. More than this during each speech Diaz sheds tears—rains tears—and is wont to refer to Juarez as "my great teacher!"
The ability to shed tears freely and on the slightest provocation has, indeed, been named by Diaz's enemies as his greatest asset as a statesman. When a distinguished visitor praises Diaz or his work Diaz cries—and the visitor is touched and drawn toward him. When the "Circulo de Amigos de General Diaz" pays its formal call to tell its creator that the country once more demands his re-election he weeps—and the foreign press remarks upon how that man does love his country. Once a year, on his birthday, the president of Mexico goes down into the street and shakes hands with his people. The reception takes place in front of the national palace and all the while the tears are raining down his cheeks—and the soft-hearted people say to themselves: "Poor old man, he's had his troubles. Let him end his life in peace."
Diaz has always been able to cry. While striving against the Lerdist government in 1876, just before his day of success came, he was beaten in the battle of Icamole. He thought it meant an end of his hopes and he cried like a baby, while his subordinate officers looked on in shame. This gained him the nickname of "The weeper of Icamole," which still sticks to him among his enemies. In his memoirs Lerdo calls Diaz "The Man Who Weeps."
An oft-related incident which shows the shallowness of the feeling which accompanies the Diaz tears is told by Fornaro as follows:
It is said that Diaz does not dissipate. At least he drinks deep and drunkenly of the wine of adulation. Both vanity and lack of refinement and taste are shown by the very coarseness and ridiculousness of the praise for which he pays and in which he revels.
Diaz is not noted for avarice, which is not surprising, inasmuch as the power that he wields by reason of the army and the rest of his machine is far greater than any power that money could buy in Mexico. To Porfirio Diaz money and other cashable goods are but a pawn in the game, and he uses them to buy the support of the greedy. Yet his enemies declare that he is the richest man in Mexico. He keeps his financial affairs so well hidden that few can guess how large a fortune he has. It is known that he has large holdings under aliases and in the names of dummies and that the various members of his family are all wealthy. But why should Porfirio Diaz care for mere money, when all Mexico is his—his with no strings upon it except the strings of foreign capital?
The picture sometimes drawn of the love match of Don Porfirio and Carmelita Romero Rubio de Diaz, while pretty, is not true; the truth is not at all flattering to the personal virtues of Diaz. The facts are that little Carmen was forced to marry Diaz for purposes of state. Her father, Romero Rubio, had held a high position in the Lerdist government and had a strong personal following; her god-father was Lerdo de Tejada himself, while little Carmen, together with the other feminine members of the family, was a devout Catholic. By marrying the girl Diaz hoped to kill three birds with one stone, to win the support of her father, to turn aside the enmity of the friends of Lerdo, and to assure to himself more actively than ever the support of the church. He knew that Carmen not only did not love him, but that she wanted to marry another man, and yet he was a party to her forced marriage. The marriage did give him the more active support of the church, it won Don Romero Rubio, but as for Lerdo, he was obdurate. In his memoirs Lerdo prints some letters from the unhappy Carmen, his god-child, to show how her youth and innocence were employed as merchandise in Diaz's mad barter for political security. One of these letters, which also gives an interesting side-light on the times, is as follows:
"Sr. Lic. Don Sebastian Lerdo de Tejada.
"My Very Dear God-Father:—If you continue to be displeased with Papa, that is no reason why you should persist in being so with me; you know better than anyone that my marriage with General Diaz was the exclusive work of my parents, for whom, for the sake of pleasing them, I have sacrificed my heart, if it can be called a sacrifice to have given my hand to a man who adores me and to whom I respond only with filial affection. To unite myself with an enemy of yours has not been to curse you; on the contrary, I have desired to be the dove that with the olive branch calms the political torments of my country. I do not fear that God will punish me for having taken this step, as the greatest punishment will be to have children by a man whom I do not love; nevertheless, I shall respect him and be faithful to him all my life. You have nothing, God-father, with which to reproach me. I have conducted myself with perfect correctness inside the social, moral and religious laws. Can you blame the Archduchess Marie of Austria for uniting herself with Napoleon? Since my marriage I am constantly surrounded by a crowd of flatterers, so much the more contemptible since I do not encourage them. They do not fail in anything except in falling down on their knees and kissing my feet, as happened with the golden princesses of Perrault. From the deputation of beggars with whom I became acquainted yesterday to the minister who begged a peseta in order to dine, on the staircase ascending or descending, all mix together and trample each other under foot, entreating for a salute, a smile, a glance. The same who in a time not so very remote would have refusedto give me their hand had they seen me fall on the sidewalk, today crawl like reptiles in my path, and would consider themselves happy if the wheels of my carriage should pass over their unclean bodies. The other night, while expectorating in the aisle of the theatre, a general who was at my side interposed his handkerchief, in order that the saliva, each precious pearl, should not fall on the tile floor. If we had been alone, surely the miserable creature would have converted his mouth into a cuspidor. This is not the exquisite flattery of educated folk; it is the brutal servility of the rabble in its animal and repulsive form, in that of a slave. The poets, the minor poets and the poetasters each martyr me after his own fashion; it is a waterspout of ink fit to blacken the ocean itself. This calamity irritates my nerves to such an extent that at times I have attacks of hysteria. Horrible, isn't it, dear God-father? And I say nothing to you of the paragraphs and articles published by the press that Papa has hired. Those who do not call me an angel say that I am a cherub; others raise me to the standard of a goddess; others place me in the firmament as a star, and still others put me down in botany, classifying me among the lilies, the marguerites and the jasmin. At times I myself do not know whether I am an angel, a cherub, a goddess, a star, a lily, a marguerite, a jasmin, or a woman. Dios! Whom am I that I am deified and enveloped in this cloud of fetid incense? Ah, my God-father, I am very unfortunate, and I hope that you will not deny me your pardon and your advice.
Is Diaz patriotic? Has he the welfare of Mexico at heart? The flatterers of Diaz swear by his patriotism, but the facts demand a negative answer. Diaz helped depose the foreign prince, but immediately afterwards he plunged a peaceful country into war to feed his own ambition. Perhaps it will be said that Diaz imagined that he could order the destinies of Mexico more for the benefit of Mexico than could anyone else. Doubtless, but why has he not given his country progress? Is it possible that he believes that autocracy is better for a people than democracy? Is it possible that he considers illiteracy a condition of the greatest possible happiness for a people? Can he believe that a state of chronic starvation contributes to the welfare of a nation? He is an old man—eighty years old. Why does he not make some provision against political chaos after his death? Is it possible that he believes it to be best for his people never to attempt to govern themselves, and for this reason is wrecking his nation so as to prepare it for easy possession by foreigners?
It is impossible to believe these things of Diaz. It is eminently more reasonable to judge that whatever desire for the welfare of his country he possesses is overshadowed, wiped off the slate, by a personal ambition to maintain his rule for life.
This, in my judgment, is a key to the character and the public acts of Porfirio Diaz—to stay there—to stay there!
"How will this move affect the security of my position? I believe this question has been the one test for the acts of Porfirio Diaz in all those thirty-four years. This question has always been before him. With it he has eaten, drank, slept. With it before him he was married. With it he built a machine, enriched his friends and disposed of his enemies, buying some and killing others; with it he has flattered and gifted the foreigner, favored the church, kept temperance in his body and learned a martial carriage; with it he set one friend against another, fostered prejudice between his people and other peoples, paid the printer, cried in the sight of the multitude when there was no sorrow in his soul and—wrecked his country!
Upon what thread hangs the good fame of Porfirio Diaz with Americans? Upon that one fact, that he has wrecked his country—and prepared it for easy possession by foreigners. Porfirio Diaz is giving to Americans the lands of Mexico; the people he is permitting them to enslave; therefore he is the greatest living statesman, hero of the Americans, the maker of Mexico! A wonderful man, that he is intelligent and far-seeing enough to appreciate the fact that, of all nations, the American is the only one with virtue and ability enough to lift Mexico out of its Slough of Despond! As for the Mexican, let him die. He is only fit to feed the grist mill of American capital, anyhow!