In the first debate, Morena’s presidential candidate focused the strategy on her management as head of government in Mexico City. Her interventions embodied public policies, indicators and, of course, always a prize of the most varied nomenclatures. There was no shortage of narrative audacity, such as stating that she had achieved zero impunity in femicides. To the contrasts about the failures and disappointments of López Obrador’s presidency, the official candidate returned again and again to what had supposedly been achieved in the country’s capital. The objective, I suppose, was to present a candidate with her own profile, moderate in certain positions, independent and distinguishable from her supreme voter. A continuity without continuity.
Something about these subtle distinctions did not go down well in the National Palace. At least those speculations floated copiously in the post-debate. From the President’s anger over the questions that “seeked to harm her government,” to those reports that reproached the candidate for having forgotten her political parentage. The trail of the presidential debate was that Claudia Sheinbaum defended herself, but not the fourth transformation with the vehemence that the movement demands. The laconic escape “if she has evidence, present her complaint” regarding the questioning of corruption, was assumed as an unwillingness to defend the indefensible. To remove from the presidential campaign everything that was not in its year and that could cause harm. And the President ended up acknowledging the perception: they want to tie knives to us, but I love it, I love it, I love it.
While in the first debate candidate Sheinbaum mentioned the word “transformation” four times, in the second exercise she did so 22 times. The two mentions of the President in the first meeting became four. The Morena candidate put aside her time in the city and focused on defending the “achievements” of López Obrador. Not the slightest hint that something could be different or have its own imprint. The country will be governed as the President does, not with a model that has already had some realization. The transformation continues without an iota of correction.
In some of his plebiscitary reports, the President left his reflections on how he understands and sees his succession to posterity. He told us from the Zócalo that he had already resolved the doubt of General Lázaro Cárdenas in ’34: between the moderate, pragmatic but extremely risky wink of Avilacachism, always better the ideologically militant continuity of General Múgica. To the good understanders, few words. Claudia was his Múgica. Continuity without folds.
There are two Claudias in this election. Two faces that cannot be reconciled. It has already become clear that Claudia does not have the freedom of the Ávila Camacho family: no matter how much she promises demarcations in private meetings with businessmen, the second debate no longer makes her credible. Her role is Mugican loyalty. That is the Palace’s instruction that will be enforced from a ranch with a Mayan Train station to return if necessary. At least, while there is revocation of mandate. That unprecedented tool to correct inheritance errors. The lessons of a general who does not see himself in exile. The testament of the messiah who will never go to hell.
