The 1824 Constitution Two Centuries Later
The bicentennial of Mexico's 1824 Constitution offers an opportunity to reflect on its enduring legacy. Legal scholars and political figures emphasized the document's continued relevance in shaping the nation's political and social landscape.
The 1824 Constitution of Mexico. A document so venerable, so deeply entwined with the very roots of the nation’s identity, that commemorating its bicentennial feels less like a trip down memory lane and more like a poignant reminder that history never truly dies. And why would it? This country, much like a well-aged tequila, is distilled from the complex flavours of its past – some parts smooth, some sharp, and others downright combustible. Yet, the lessons remain there for those willing to take a sip.
On this momentous occasion, Sonia Venegas Álvarez, director of the UNAM Faculty of Law, spoke at length about the legacy of the 1824 Constitution. She didn’t simply drone on in a lecture hall – no, she painted it as a “radiant beacon,” an inaugural milestone that set the course for Mexico's independent political existence.
You could almost hear the faint sounds of patriotic trumpets in the background. Her speech, laden with fervor and grandeur, invited us to reflect on the fact that the very challenges those weary-eyed writers faced two centuries ago are still glaringly relevant today. It’s as if this document, framed somewhere in the grand Temple of San Pedro and San Pablo, was whispering to modern-day Mexico: "I’m still here, you know. You’re not done with me yet."
Now, if you think about it – and I highly recommend that you do – Venegas wasn’t waxing poetic for the sake of nostalgia. She wasn’t standing in front of a crowd just to make everyone feel fuzzy about the past. No, her words were rather more of a gentle nudge, or perhaps even a cattle prod, urging us to recognize that we’re still grappling with the same demons of identity, governance, and justice as we were in 1824. The dream of the “Mexico we all want” is, as it always has been, a work in progress. But as any seasoned builder will tell you, progress requires the right blueprint – and in Mexico's case, that blueprint was laid out in the 1824 Constitution, or so we are told.
One of the most compelling speeches during this commemorative event came from Juan Luis González Alcántara Carrancá, a minister from the Supreme Court. In the midst of an era where “reforming power is in a frenzy,” he boldly highlighted the importance of studying the past. Why, you might ask, do we bother raking through the embers of history while the flames of today’s political reforms blaze so brightly?
Well, according to him, because “a people that does not know its history is condemned to repeat it.” Ah yes, that old chestnut. But before you roll your eyes and dismiss it as yet another clichéd maxim, consider the broader implications: everything happening today, all the heated debates and sweeping reforms, is just one more link in the unbroken chain of time. The present is merely an extension of the past, an echo that refuses to fade.
To make his point, González Alcántara Carrancá dropped an example that resonates in today's political maelstrom: the recent ruling by the Supreme Court on the National Guard. Ah yes, the National Guard, that ever-contentious institution that, like a well-used Swiss Army knife, has been reconfigured and repurposed so many times over Mexico's independent history, you'd be forgiven for losing track.
On April 20, 2023, the Court struck down a legislative reform that sought to transfer control of the National Guard to the Secretariat of National Defense. The ruling wasn’t just a legal footnote – it was a historical debate come alive. The challenge? Reconciling modern-day needs with the spirit of the Constitution, which originally envisioned the National Guard as a civilian institution meant to serve as a check against military power.
And here's where it gets interesting. González Alcántara Carrancá reminded us that the National Guard, as we know it today, has roots that reach back to the Constitution of 1824. Back then, the framers, weary of the looming specter of a permanent army that could snatch power away from the people, sought to create a military force composed of citizen-soldiers. It wasn’t about having a bloated, menacing army that could march into town and shake things up whenever it pleased – no, the National Guard was supposed to be civilian-led, a democratic institution that was, in theory, less prone to abuse.
The minister painted a vivid picture of how local militias were woven into the fabric of Mexican federalism, inspired by – wait for it – the United States. Yes, in the land of tacos and tequila, even the structure of the National Guard was partially cribbed from its northern neighbor, borrowing the idea of empowering citizens to protect their liberties.
But as always, the line between theory and practice is a bit like the line between mezcal and hangovers: never as clear as you’d like. And now, as history watches over us with a knowing smirk, we find ourselves once again debating whether this institution should remain civilian or become another cog in the military machine.
But let’s not stop there, because Venegas wasn’t content to let the Constitution of 1824 simply rest as an “inaugural milestone.” Oh no, she took the audience on a whirlwind tour through the corridors of Mexico’s constitutional history. She drew attention to the fact that Mexico’s three major constitutions – those of 1824, 1857, and 1917 – weren’t merely bureaucratic exercises in law-writing. No, each was preceded by an armed movement that shook the country to its core. The Constitution of 1824 was born out of the fires of Independence, while the Ayutla Revolution paved the way for the 1857 version, and the Mexican Revolution gave us the still-standing 1917 Constitution.
These weren’t just dusty pieces of parchment – they were living, breathing documents that carried the weight of bloody struggles and social upheavals. Each constitution tackled the burning questions of its time, reflecting the aspirations of a nation still trying to figure out who it was and what it stood for. The 1824 Constitution asked how Mexico should govern itself after centuries of colonial rule. The 1857 Constitution wrestled with religious freedom and the role of the church in public life. And the 1917 Constitution? Well, it went all-in on social justice, reflecting the demands of a populace that was tired of being on the wrong end of the economic stick.
But perhaps the most striking element of the 1824 Constitution – and the one that lingers most pertinently today – is its fundamental wrestling match with federalism. It was, after all, the first time that Mexico tried to balance the power between the central government and its various states. This was no easy task in a country that was as vast as it was diverse. And as Venegas pointed out, this tension between the center and the periphery is one that continues to pulse through the veins of Mexican politics, still unresolved, still fiercely debated.
So, as we commemorate 200 years of the Constitution of 1824, let's not pretend that this is a mere academic exercise. Let's not treat this anniversary like a distant relative’s birthday – one where you send a card but couldn’t care less if they opened it. No, this is a moment to acknowledge that history isn’t just something that happened. It's something that’s still happening. The Mexico of today is, in many ways, still in dialogue with the Mexico of 1824, wrestling with the same big questions: Who are we? How should we govern ourselves? How can we ensure that justice is not just a word, but a reality?
And as long as these questions remain, the 1824 Constitution will remain relevant – a beacon, yes, but also a reminder that Mexico’s journey is far from over.