In brief, the working class of Mexico is the most important and homogeneous body of brown labour in the world. The European or American mine or plantation manager (who was until recently plentifully established in the country) may often express very diverse views in this connexion, but from a more detached point of view the above characterization is true.
As for the working class Mexican woman, she has many good qualities, and is often of pleasing appearance, whilst among some of the Indian tribes the girls are handsome.
The upper class Mexican is generally well educated, often having been sent to Europe or the United States for his education. He has the pleasing courtesy of the Spanish race, and is frequently a well-informed man of the world. However, it cannot be said that education in the United States is necessarily an improvement. There is something about the association which is not pleasing. He becomes too "smart" and cynical.
The educated Mexican class earnestly lays claim to a "high civilization," and art, science and literature are, at least in theory, greatly esteemed. There may be, in some respects, an element of superficiality about this refinement, and about life in general, with this class. But to a large extent it has its foundation in reality, and the educated Mexican and the upper class man of business has nothing to lose in point of culture in comparison with, for example, the American or other foreign business man. Indeed, it is the latter that would often suffer by comparison in this respect, especially the American.
The Mexican is much less dominated by the money-getting spirit than is the man of the United States, and has, perhaps, a wider vision, both in domestic and international affairs. The upper class Mexican woman is justly noted for her beauty and vivacity, and becomes a devoted wife and mother. She is extremely religious. Indeed, the influence of the Church and the priest enter too strongly into the life of the female population of Mexico. The upper class man has often thrown off religion and is acquiring an easy materialism.
With a people of the above described characteristics, it might well be asked from what source does the revolutionary element and bloodthirsty soldiery come? From what class do the ambitious "generals," the would-be presidents, the ruthless guerilla bands spring, whose doings have shocked the civilized world? They do not come from the ordinary class of educated Mexicans, who are peaceful estate owners, lawyers, business men, and so forth, who, in general, would be very loath to risk their persons or property in the hazards of revolution. As to the young man of this class, he generally loves the ease and luxury of city life too much to adventure himself far from his often effiminate pleasures. Nor do they come from the great peon class, which, so far, has asked little more than to pursue its normal life, varied by the not infrequent carousals of feast-days, the pelea de gallos, or cock-fight, and the corrida de toros, or bull-fight, as his Sunday diversions, and to drown his sorrows in draughts of intoxicating pulque or aguardiente.
The revolutionary element is, in fact, drawn from a comparatively small class of ambitious or disappointed politicians and the idle or dissatisfied military element, in the main. It cannot of course be denied that revolution at times springs to being under patriotic or national motives, to remedy the abuses laid on the country by dishonest or oppressive rulers. In reality, disorder is generally the result of a mixture of both these elements. A revolutionary standard having been raised, and a pronunciamiento made, there are rarely lacking followers. The latent martial spirit of the Mexican—a heritage from both his Aztec and Spanish forbears—breaks out. The prospect of place and office attracts the educated malcontent, of booty and licence the lower element, and of higher pay and free food the peon. Political murders and ruthless cruelty attend these operations, and a whole nation is terrorized and its ordinary affairs brought almost to a standstill thereby. Often, however, the revolution is little more than a local affair, and is put down or dies out, although it may have damaged the country's reputation abroad in a measure far exceeding its real importance.
Is there any remedy for this perennial turmoil, and if so, what is the remedy? The reply is that whilst the present economic conditions of Mexico exist, stability will never be reached. A small upper class practically monopolizes the wealth, education, land and opportunity of the Republic—a republic in little more than name. The main bulk of the people, as has been shown, are poor, landless and illiterate, and in consequence easily throw off their settled habits at the bidding of upstart leaders. They have little to lose and perhaps—they think—the possibility of gain by disorder.
The steadying element of a settled middle class grows very slowly to being in Mexico. Industry is in its infancy. Little is manufactured in the country, except cotton, textiles, and even here the wage of the operative is exceedingly low. Such manufacturing industry is mainly represented by the well-advanced cotton and textile factories of Puebla and elsewhere, works of much importance, generally actuated by water-power plant. This is a highly profitable industry for the mill-owners, who reap dividends often of thirty per cent. Manufacturing industry here, as in the other Latin American Republics, is accompanied in its growth by the rise of the strike habit, which is rapidly increasing. Jealousy of the foreign concessionaire—who flourished so markedly under the Diaz regimen—is a further element in disorder. The advancement of the masses has been extremely slow. A new spirit is needful if progress is to be made, a recognition of the rights of the Mexican "democracy," a better co-ordination of the national resources and a constructive and equitable economic policy, added to disinterested political leadership.