Man, Land, and Water: Mexico's Farmlands Irrigation Policies 1885–1911 [Reprint 2020 ed.] 9780520322547

Citation preview

MAN, LAND, AND WATER

Porfirio Diaz, sponsor both of powerful businesses and of government strength in limiting the power of rich corporations. (Courtesy Bancroft Library)

To those so near Betty, Scott, Alan, Keith, and Katie

To those not far away in Brooklyn, Portland, SanJose, and in Pacifica

Man, Land, and Water Mexico's Farmlands Irrigation Policies 1885-1911

C L I F T O N B. KROEBER

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESS Berkeley Los Angeles London

University of California Press Berkeley and Los Angeles, California University of California Press, Ltd. London, England

Copyright © 1983 by The Regents of the University of California

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Kroeber, Clifton B. Man, land, and water. Bibliography: p. 265. Includes index. 1. Irrigation—Government policy — Mexico— History. I. Title. HD1741.M6K76 1983 333.91 3 0972 82-21939 ISBN 0-520-04843-1

Printed in the United States of America

123456789

Contents

Preface Abbreviations 1. Introduction 2. New A nalyses and Shifting Interpretations 3. The Complex Analyses 4. Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects 5. Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work 6. Bringing Law to Policy 7. For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation 8. Crisis in La Laguna 9. Conclusion Notes Bibliography Index

ix xii 1 31 62 87 121 164 182 195 218 239 265 271

Preface

In 1957, when I was first thinking about this work, my idea was to study a constructive aspect of the Mexican Revolution, something that arose within the Revolution itself. I assumed that at some time after 1910 Mexicans became aware of how badly they needed more agricultural irrigation. I would study both that increasing awareness and whatever efforts were made after 1910 to provide more water for farming. My investigations would stop at whatever stage agricultural irrigation became a salient part of the government's work. The subject seemed to be a useful focus for research, being the other face of land policies that were so much a part of the Revolutionary thrust in Mexico. What I was too ignorant to know in 1957 was that irrigation policy had been important long before 1910—so long before, and so important, that Revolutionary regimes in later years did little more than continue earlier policies. The research I carried out between 1966 and 1976 divided into two parts, one comprising President Porfirio Diaz's policies up to 1911 and the other dealing with efforts by Revolutionary regimes between 1911 and 1926. My research ended with 1926, because in that year the Mexican government commenced the much larger efforts that have continued to the present day. So this volume represents the earlier part of my research and focuses on Mexican concern with farmlands irrigation during the presidency of Porfirio Diaz. Research itself probably always becomes a struggle against limiting conditions, and my work was no exception. The first o f these limitations is the historian's own lack of awareness of all the dimensions of whatever is being studied. While contending with this problem, he moves on to meet the second limiting condition, which is encountered as he guesses at and looks for ix

X

Preface

information. The researcher has to imagine what he needs to know and then must find out whether any such information ever was recorded, how much still exists, and where it is. Here he meets the final limiting condition, as he discovers whether or not he will be allowed to see the information. Of course it helps to be tactful and to be able to make out a reasonable case; and being properly introduced to key people can make all the difference. But luck, good and bad, still seems to play a part. The smallest bits of information I needed were readily available in Mexico's fine National Archive. But permission was not granted to work with the presidents' papers there, because they were not yet inventoried or indexed. One other collection of presidential papers, privately owned, was not open to me. But these were secondary matters in any case. By that time the more important question had emerged: Where were the records created before 1911 by the Ministry of Development, which had had so much to do with irrigation policy? All I could find out at first was that no such papers were in the National Archive, because so many official agencies had not yet sent their older papers there; they were hanging on to them to use in daily administrative work. So my hunt was on for papers dating from the 1880s to the 1920s, wherever they might be, as yet unknown to archival guides or to historians. The most likely government agencies insisted they had no such records. And I was often told that the papers had burned up during the Revolutionary wars, had served as wadding in muskets during the fighting after 1910, or had fallen off into canyons during the government's retreat to Veracruz at that time—or, that the records had been lost much more recently in the many moves of government office spaces hither and thither in Mexico City. As one leading official told me, "For our office records, two moves equals one serious fire." Of course, I kept on looking, knowing how very likely it was that Mexican officials would preserve their records. And the Revolution was fought with rifles, not with muskets needing wadding to hold the bullets in. Finally, thanks to Professor Herbert Harvey's insistence that I visit with Ing. Juan Mas Cinta, it became clear to me that the pertinent records of the former Secretaría de Fomento, Colonización, é Industria did exist. Most of them were spread around in various rented office spaces. Ing. Mas Cinta was kind enough to arrange for me to study in two such archives (in a third neither I nor the archivist dared touch anything, because the records were piled more than twenty feet high in a huge silo, threatening the life of anyone who might touch those teetering pillars of paper). I was also made welcome in the archives of the then Departamento de Asuntos Agrarios y de Colonización and of the Suprema Corte de Justicia. Rare books and pamphlets were available sometimes in the Biblioteca México and always

Preface

xi

in the Biblioteca de la Secretaría de Hacienda; and I spent weeks in the twentieth-century section of the newspaper archive, the Hemeroteca Nacional. I had read for months in The Library of Congress and in The National Archives of the United States at Washington, D.C., and later I had one invaluable week in The Public Record Office in London. The Library of Congress was so very helpful as to lend microfilm copies of official gazettes of two Mexican states. And I saw manuscripts and printed items in the Bancroft Library at the University of California, Berkeley. All in all, five months' study at Mexico City, three months in Washington, and shorter visits to Berkeley were possible because of a grant from the Penrose Fund of the American Philosophical Society, with repeated assistance from research funds at Occidental College. The Haynes Foundation Summer Fellowship in 1980 afforded time to write the first version of this work. To acknowledge all this support is a real pleasure. The late Howard F. Cline and the late Daniel Cosío Villegas encouraged this research and gave discriminating criticism when most needed, in the earliest stages. I do warmly thank Moïses González Navarro for wise counsel on two occasions, and for a good strong push. I have been urged on by Raymond and Vivian Lindgren and buoyed up by my dear wife, Betty (although several of our sons still insist that their father was trying to arrive at some ridiculous viewpoint on "The Water Problems of Cucamonga, California"). I thank Jorge Juan Faz for conceiving how to reproduce the maps and for doing them for this book; and I am most grateful to Ing. Jorge L. Tamayo for his gift of a complete map of Mexico, from which most of my reproductions were drawn. For those improvements that only good editors can give I am grateful to Stanley Holwitz, Shirley Warren, and James Kubeck at the University of California Press. One is fortunate indeed when the dean is there, stimulating and supportive as a colleague and as a friend: it is in this way I shall remember Robert S. Ryf, and now James England. The same can be said for that small company of friends in the Departments of History and American Studies at Occidental College. For the larger story of Mexican history of which this present work encompasses but a small part, one should turn to Ramón E. Ruiz's work, The Great Rebellion. Mexico 1905-1924. In that well-written book Ruiz makes clear the larger trends and processes and highlights them all with pertinent detail. Upper Manoa, and Napa and Eagle Rock Valleys, California

Clifton B. Kroeber

A bbreviations

AAF AGN ASCJ FO SRH USNA Ing.

Archivo de Aguas Federales. Secretaría de Recursos Hidráulicos, Mexico City. Archivo General de la Nación, Mexico City. Archivo de la Suprema Corte de Justicia, Mexico City. Foreign Office papers of Great Britain. The Public Record Office, London, England. Archivo General, Secretaría de Recursos Hidráulicos, Mexico City. The National Archives of the United States, Washington, D.C. A professionally qualified engineer.

xiii

Map 1. Rivers Reconnoitered by the Mexican Government before 1911.

1 Introduction

For a full generation after independence in 1821 Mexico saw very little in the way of economic growth or development. Ravaged by civil strife and by foreign intervention and invasion, the country remained disunified, stricken by poverty, and unable to attract enough investment by Mexicans or by foreigners. Even with the victory of the Liberal party in the 1850s, the same conditions prevailed. The government was too poor and too preoccupied with its own survival to encourage economic change. From the mid-1850s until the late 1860s, Mexico under Benito Juarez's presidency continued to suffer as it had for a long time. On the surface the problem seemed to be political, expressed in factional conflicts and war. Leaders of the political factions were divided into two absolutely opposed camps. Economic activity suffered from war, from lack of strong government policies, and from a near-absence of new investment. The economy had not expanded much since the wars of independence. In some ways it had lost ground since then. 1 One could speak of Mexico as an assortment of regional and local cultures. The country contained a loose collection of regional economies, barely limping along. It also seemed to be losing its one national institution, the Roman Catholic church, which had to some minor degree given symbolic unity to the various peoples. For a long time the Church had been involved politically, and it lost respectability in the eyes of many Mexicans by siding with the Conservative party and later with Maximilian's empire during the 1860s. On the losing side in the wars of that period, the Church never regained the full measure of respect and power to which its hierarchs had aspired since the sixteenth century. As for the economy during the 1850s and 1860s, no national market as 1

2

Introduction

yet existed, 2 and little was happening to bring the many isolated economies into mutual communication. Indeed, no institutions yet existed for purposes of building a national economy. Neither the federal government nor the state governments had budgets sizable enough to lend stimulation to economic life, and foreign investment was slight until after the end of Maximilian's empire in the late sixties. Long after the French army units and the imperial court were gone, Benito Juárez's government still spent more than 45 percent of its funds in military expenditures to keep the central government in power. The federal budget was so inadequate for the urgent needs it faced that, years before, President Juárez had stopped making payments on the foreign debt. Unfortunately, the system of taxation was not easy to improve in a situation of such weakness and need. The government had to have money to pay its soldiers, even though other government workers might go unpaid. Taxes had to be collected from the few available and vulnerable sources. The result was a discouragingly high tax on agriculture, 3 and ineffective assessments on foreign trade—which in itself was too small to act as a force for Mexico's domestic expansion. Neither agriculture nor domestic commerce nor foreign trade, however, gave a large enough tax base. 4 Nor could Mexico borrow its way out of immediate difficulties: its foreign credit still stood at zero, with the same president in office who had repudiated payment on its foreign debt not many years before. For all these reasons it was nearly impossible to attract foreign investors, who might otherwise have helped Mexico to build up its economy. This panorama of problems and deficiencies suggests to one writer, John Coatsworth, that since colonial times, Mexico had suffered from two basic difficulties. One of these was inadequacy of transport. The other was inefficient economic organization, "an ensemble of policies, laws, and institutions that magnified instead of reduced, the gap between private and social benefits of economic activity." Coatsworth concludes that private economic enterprise was bound to be continually discouraged, without some "revolution in the relationship between the state and economic activity."' Dark as the day must have seemed in 1866 or 1867, however, Mexico now for the first time could call new strengths to the tasks of building a nation, an economy, and a government. With the recent discrediting of the monarchist faction and many of its most conservative allies, only one major political combination remained. That one had a chance to gain significant power. The possibility was also good that rich and powerful people would cooperate. No matter how variant their individual views, these people could agree at least upon a mild philosophy of progress. They would doubtless support constructive public policies. The core of this potential unifying sector was the Liberal party leadership. Its main objectives were

Introduction

3

well suited to the moment, because the Liberals wanted to respond to a widespread desire for peace, unity, and progress in material life. The Liberal leaders respected and relied upon the institutions and uses of private property. They viewed individual initiative and personal enterprise as the saving and enriching influences for Mexico's future. Their beliefs were echoed by the desire of many other Liberals to see personal freedoms protected and expanded. Related to this desire was a deep conviction that universal education was necessary for a healthy nation of selfdetermining people. 6 And with regard to the masses of people and their need for freedom and for liberation of mind and spirit by way of education, the Liberals hoped also to strengthen the fabric of civic life by creating a whole new class of small, independent farmers. 7 This ideal of the independent small-farm operator remained in the minds of Liberals as the key to a lively domestic economy. Moreover, the small farmers, self-respecting and hardworking, would also constitute the massive base for Mexican democracy. And Liberals expected that the solid core of small agriculturists would be expanded by a steady flow of immigrants—educated farmers from Europe who would add their numbers to millions of Mexican smallholders." Attempts to bring in thousands upon thousands of such industrious farmers, in fact, would remain as part of the national policy for agriculture until after 1900. Indeed, the hope for agricultural regeneration of Mexico through colonization of immigrants on unused lands or on modern haciendas never died during the half century from the early years of Juárez's presidency until the end of the regime of Porfirio Díaz.® There were propitious signs as well. A textile industry with modern machinery was growing up, to create strong demand for cotton grown in Mexico.10 Some other "infant" industries, such as the manufacture of paper and of iron, were rising behind protective tariff walls. Hope for quick encouragement of economic growth after 1867, though, seemed to rest upon two factors: the expanding activities of capitalists then located in the cities, and the movement of still other capitalists into Mexico from industrializing nations, whose economies now called for primary materials wherever these could be found. 11 President Juárez and his supporters believed in the benefits to be brought by business, industry, and agriculture. They placed much of their faith, and a surprisingly large proportion of the central government's budget, in various activities intended to stimulate economic development. Juárez gave more than 12 percent of the federal budget —thus, more than a quarter of all non-military spending—to basic economic facilities and other infrastructure expenditure. 18 Of course, the results were not immediately or uniformly impressive. Some money was wasted. Further, trade within Mex-

4

Introduction

ico would rise very slowly as long as state governments still assessed customs duties at their borders. And change would be slow where there was nothing by way of a national communications network and where several forms of taxation probably tended to cancel out the stimulating effects of some other government policies. The degree of loss that occurred, from among the varieties of wealth that Mexico did produce, will probably never be computed accurately. But that loss was considerable. For instance, the flight of Mexican capital from Mexico was steady and debilitating. More money left the country in this way than entered in the form of foreign investment funds. 13 As another example, perhaps 10 percent of all silver mined in Mexico slipped out of the country as contraband. But despite all such difficulties, the Juárez regime moved as strongly as possible to try to stimulate production. Juárez intended to accumulate enough wealth in both private and public hands to begin a new epoch of prosperity for the whole population. In Juárez's last years, from 1867 until 1871, and during the presidency of his successor, Sebastián Lerdo de Tejada, the basic understandings and beliefs upholding the government's economic program were clear. First, the Liberals had gradually come around to a conviction that the central government had to lead the way. 14 During the earlier years of the century, these Liberals had been federalists, and believers in grass-roots government; but after Emperor Maximilian's departure they followed President Juárez in his very determined and even unconstitutionally strong use of the national government 15 as a weapon for economic change. It was probably easier for Juárez to act so forcefully because Mexico did not yet have most of the laws that would give specific guidance and limit public power in all that related to industry, commerce, and agriculture. Without those laws, there were no clear and specific bases upon which to stand if one wished to defend one's own private rights or private property against the president's or the congress's strong exercise of power. That is, the Constitution of 1857 gave only general guidance in these respects, as it was intended to do. The constitutional articles could not act as specific ground rules for day-to-day decisions, because they did not give specific enough guidance in controversies between private and public power. So as the economy became more complex, and conflicting jurisdictions and rights collided more frequently, the need arose for a whole series of "enabling laws" the congress would have to produce to define constitutional provisions. Mexico did not yet have even the basic civil and criminal codes of laws. Without these—let alone any special legislation — the country was trying to go on without practical guidelines for business and government activity. Meantime, Presidents Juárez and Lerdo de Tejada built up a constitu-

Introduction

5

tional dictatorship, which Richard Sinkin characterizes as the form of centralized government that has persisted in Mexico from the late 1860s until our own time. 16 This was the early Liberals' enduring contribution toward solution of many problems then holding the nation in their grip. Other bases for the new approaches by President Juárez existed as a series of accepted beliefs about how best to build the economy. One of these was the assumption that mining was the key activity. It had for a long time provided most of the income in foreign trade and therefore almost half the national government's tax income. So, although mining was not in a growth phase during the 1860s, it should lead the economy. Another basic assumption was that foreign exports would provide the money with which to develop Mexico's economy on a much larger scale. There was also a growing belief that foreign investment could now be obtained. And there was a dual assumption as to how railroads and farms could combine to expand the domestic market: the thought was that a national rail network running through lands inhabited by the coming class of small farmers would quickly enough encourage demand, exchange, and consumption, and, that all that activity would in turn stimulate a steady growth of Mexican-owned industries. The country would then no longer need to buy so many costly imported items. All of these assumptions taken together constituted a bright feeling of hope, a faith in the future of various sectors of the economy and in expansion of the whole. As it proved, President Juárez saw few gains from his attempts to invigorate economic life. His land policy went awry, as more owners did acquire land but agricultural production did not rise. The laws were so written as to make it easy to dispossess or otherwise deprive smallholders of their properties. So the class of ruggedly independent small farmers now seemed less likely to appear, as the number of small properties diminished. Mexico's Liberals have always had a remarkably equivocal view as the policies for the "small" farmer. On the one hand, some Liberals have always thought of smallholders in primarily moralistic terms —as people in need of social engineering measures, rather than as deprived economic operators who need material improvements in their farming situation. These Liberals have been less concerned, or unconcerned, with such questions as whether the small operator owns his own land, or owns in a collectivity, or whether he is not an owner at all but a sharecropper or one driven to find wage work. On the other hand, some Liberals have taken a predominantly economic view of the millions of small producers. They have felt that the only ones worth encouraging are those who can produce significant amounts of food or fiber for the national and export markets. To such Liberals as these, the small subsistence farmers so numerous in Mexico during the late nine-

6

Introduction

teenth and early twentieth centuries did not seem important. Such people were not expected to be important producers for the money economy. Some of them would of course always live in their hills and valleys, scratching away at the soil, while some of their sons and daughters might provide the laboring force for the factories Mexico hoped to build. An equally important difference of view thus occurs when anyone in Mexico discusses "small" farming. In taking up this subject, some of the city-side people are thinking of the operators of the smallest enterprises that provide a subsistence level of living; others are thinking of much larger operations, perhaps involving a hundred or two hundred hectares in each unit—farms that produce very effectively for local or national markets. And at some time in the late nineteenth century, probably in Benito Juárez's time, it is this larger kind of operation that gradually became the hope of Liberal policymakers. That hope, for a nation of smallish and very efficient producers whose work makes itself felt in both domestic and foreign trade and in supply of food and of materials for industries, increasingly became the central expectation of the Liberals. So it remained at least until the 1920s, if not into our own time. The more lively hope was for an emerging class of effective producers whose properties were thought of as "small" in a special sense. What was of immediate concern in President Juárez's time, of course, was that no such class of productive smallish farmers was at work. Agriculture was not in a growth phase, nor were there signs of enough innovation in farming methods to promise increasing production from the countryside. Nor was mining moving forward as expected. And foreign investment remained sluggish. Whether or not tariff policy could have been manipulated to favor such activities, the president still did not tend to make tariff policy so as to encourage foreign imports needed in Mexico's industries. Customs taxes continued to be devised mainly as revenue measures. Taxes on imports produced about half the central government's small income. And these taxes protected a few Mexican producers from foreign competition." As for the government's own income, when President Juárez was able to return to Mexico City in 1867, some four-fifths of his budget went to payments on the public debt. 18 He never escaped the disadvantages of a small budget heavily committed in advance. Mexico's internal trade still suffered from the combination of heavy direct and indirect taxation, in addition to high transportation costs.19 So, like many another "colonial" economy, Mexico's still showed higher expenses bearing on its own producers than on those in western Europe or in the United States, who would sell more cheaply in Mexico if permitted to do so. President Juárez's policies could not be strong or effective enough either to approximate the Liberal ideal of a "free market" or to make gains toward establishing a strong domestic market within Mexico.

Introduction

7

Where President Juárez did achieve the first results in Liberal policies was in encouraging the building of railroads. Mexico's first, the Veracruz line, fostered a small wheat trade with Cuba and a steep improvement in efficiency and quantity of agricultural production on lands near the rails. This was true even though the earliest effect was a disquieting one: to stimulate pulque production and sale in nearby markets—not an entirely happy fact, because Liberals were desirous of discouraging consumption of the inexpensive liquors. Juárez also had a success with his own major policy regarding mining. With a reduction in the export duty on silver, and with freedom to trade that metal abroad, mines were now motivated to greatly increase production. For the time being it appeared that mining would lead the expansion in Mexico's foreign trade. That trade soon equaled the highest level it had ever enjoyed, that of some sixty years before. And Juárez's government also spent money on new schools. Moreover, there was an attempt to increase public confidence in the stability of the national currency. In all, these few tentative successes and forward steps in infrastructure development, in Laura Randall's view, "provided the basis for much of the economic development . . . achieved during the next 40 years."80 With the coming of Porfirio Díaz to the presidency, the main lines of Liberal policy would gradually be strengthened and intensified during the late 1870s and 1880s. Why Diaz's policies could be stronger and, in some cases, more effective is a matter not yet fully understood. One advantage certainly lay in Diaz's early success in building a strong political coalition under his own personal control. Soon his potential rivals were discouraged from fighting him or from trying to block his policies within the government at Mexico City.81 Another advantage lay in the fact that funds were moving outward from western Europe and from the United States, seeking the very kinds of investment opportunities Mexico wished to offer. Still another advantage, lesser but of importance, was in the continuing flow of silver from Mexico's mines into foreign hands. This gave government an increasing budget and gradually built abroad the image of Mexico as a scene of real and satisfying wealth and "stability" in economic affairs. As the president so often said in later years, the rapid development of railroads was an immensely important change. More than that, railroads soon began to have effects unsuspected even by those promoting this new industry. Already in Benito Juárez's day the per-pound cost of transporting heavy materials had been falling by more than 80 percent wherever the railroad ran. The very existence of the lines—linking those centers of population already the largest and economically most active—began to encourage the establishment of whole congeries of small and medium-sized businesses. " The mining industry as it grew during the late nineteenth and the early

8

Introduction

twentieth centuries—modernizing, and proliferating into many new activities—was a child of the railroad network. Only with so many kilometers of railroads, connecting with the United States and with ports for the European trade, could mining constantly take on such remarkable expansion and development. It is likely also that even in their early days the railways began to make for a better distribution of laborers in Mexico. Meantime, the labor policies of the Diaz regime, such as they were, aimed at holding wages down so as to encourage private entrepreneurship across the whole face of the country. The railroad boom furnished the first opportunity to develop the Liberals' policies for a new style of government guidance and control of economic activities.85 As early as 1880 the federal government moved to a powerful position in railroad affairs by taking to itself the power to amend railroad companies' contracts. The control exerted by government over railway operations tightened, and it would become dominant early in the twentieth century. President Porfirio Diaz and his aides did not see such exercises of power as invasions of private property. There was no intent here to discourage business enterprise or to tamper with the freedom of businessmen to make their own decisions. Mexico's political leaders were simply continuing in their closer and closer domination of railroads, the traditionally preeminent role of the central government in important decision making for the economy. That had been the traditional usage since the Spanish colonial period. The custom of looking to the central government for the most serious decisions, including those in economic life, was very old and very firm. There had never been a time in Hispano-Mexican history when government and private enterprise had been thought of as separated spheres of action or of decision. Despite the strong start toward political control, and in spite of early successes in some other respects, the Diaz version of Liberal policies did not by any means bring about quick regeneration of the economy. Many of the shackling and smothering influences that had held Juarez's successes to a minimum continued to exist as problems for years after Diaz originally came to power in 1876. M These depressing influences included the unreliability of the national currency, the pressure to keep import duties high, the internal customs barriers, and the fact that the nation's foreign credit still did not exist. Diaz encountered difficulties in obtaining recognition of his regime from the United States and from France and later in reestablishing relations with Great Britain. He finally settled things with the British in 1884 by agreeing to renegotiate Mexico's debt to British subjects. Furthermore, some of the early decisions Diaz made were ill advised. One was to prefer encouragement of European immigration to a strong expansion of Mexican public education. The President expected to see

Introduction

9

improvement of the level of technical skill and literacy in the population by seeding the country with foreign immigrants. This was what President Juárez had hoped to do. But few immigrants came, 85 and the mass of Mexicans went unschooled. Education was an aspect of Mexican development which Diaz did not begin to emphasize until the first years of the twentieth century. By that time the very scope of the enterprise had converted public education in Mexico into a very serious problem. It was too vast and too complex for any such regime as that of Porfirio Díaz to attack. As for the internal customs barriers, these were not eliminated until the 1890s.86 And in currency reform the president was too slow to take action. Opposed as he was to leaving the minting of coins in the hands of private contractors, the president nonetheless did not take forceful action in this regard as he often did with other problems. He sat by and let the contracts run out, so that only beginning in 1893 could the government start to avoid the needless expense and other abuses of the private-coinage system.87 Likewise, President Diaz did not manage to break in upon the succession of upward and downward cycles in Mexican prices and interest rates. To some extent these ups and downs might have been unavoidable. After all, Mexico was slowly becoming more dependent upon world market conditions and processes. But a visible influence in these rises and falls of prices and interest rates was the fact that Mexico sold silver abroad in large amounts, both as coin and as bullion. A rising price of silver in the world market, for instance, would result in a flight of bullion and coin into foreign hands. And with coins scarce, Mexican interest rates would rise and make it harder for small businesses to conduct their affairs or to expand. Similarly, when world silver prices rose, it was likely that foreign imports could enter the country at favorable enough prices to discourage manufacture of those goods in Mexico. Of course the reverberation of world conditions in Mexico was not always unfavorable. With the swings in silver price would often come encouraging conditions. For instance, when silver prices fell, taking Mexican interest rates down with them, many entrepreneurs were encouraged to spend for new plant or other essential purposes. Perhaps this fact, that conditions bad for some were favorable for others, restrained President Diaz from making policies designed to even out the effects of ups and downs in silver prices.88 Be that as it may, manufacturing crept steadily forward during those years. The owners bought better machinery, kept wages constant, and thus accumulated their own resources, which then were used in still further modernization and expansion. 89 As the foregoing suggests, the Diaz government was always engaged in trying to please a number of different factions within its aspiring coalition of political support. Policy for one group, however, could not by any means be designed so as to please all groups. And as time went on and the

10

Introduction

economy began to expand and to develop remarkably, the number and complexity of President Diaz's favored interest groups and individuals grew. By the 1890s there had to be a much more rapid and broader flow of new policies, and the stakes had risen considerably. As we will see, the central government continued to take some actions to favor individuals, some to favor traditional supporters of the president, and some to accommodate new groups appearing on the economic scene. It was less and less possible to make all these policy lines and personal favors work to the benefit of some without injuring or simply overlooking the interests of others. As for making policy to diminish the difficulties resulting from swings in silver price, the president would only begin to address that situation during the 1890s and after 1900. Meantime, from the early days of his first presidential term, Porfirio Díaz was well aware that he must somehow reestablish Mexico's credit, so as to regain respectability in the Western world's main money markets. The president must contrive somehow to fund the foreign debt, as a crucial step in establishing Mexico's image of reliability in the eyes of foreign rulers and foreign investors. He must then go on to attract as much foreign investment as possible, aiming at a constant increase in capital expenditure in all main sectors of the economy. If the new Mexico could be made to look attractive enough to foreign investors, what Diaz most wished to see developing were commercial agriculture, manufacturing, and mining, always speeded along of course by the steady march of new railroad building. All of these hopes did not amount to a master plan. Instead, as Laura Randall concludes, the president's expectations took the shape of a very generalized and traditional sort of policy that had existed before Diaz's own presidency and that would long survive him: namely, "to bring all groups into production for the domestic market, and to subject them to national control."' 0 As it proved, before Porfirio Díaz left the presidency of Mexico he would have done a great deal to extend his policy of national control to almost all producers and industrialists anywhere in Mexico. Those groups that felt the suasion of government power would include the most powerful foreign investors, most of them now forced to accept government dictates. The hundreds of small and middle-sized businesses that grew up during Diaz's long years in the presidency would also come within the government's coercive power. So also, more indirectly, would the millions of poor people, many of whom would be deprived of their lands or of their occupations as artisans and forced to work on the nearby estates of the new commercialagricultural barons of modern Mexico. During the late 1870s and into the 1880s Porfirio Díaz, and his nominee Manual González, who held the presidency from 1880 to 1884, made a few false starts in trying to regulate the monetary system. They did not deal

Introduction

11

effectively with all the associated problems, such as the huge foreign debt and complications of handling two sets of pesos, one for internal and one for foreign payments." Presidents Diaz and González did succeed, however, in reestablishing diplomatic relationships with the United States, France, and Great Britain. Those ties were absolutely necessary to Mexico's future as a capitalist nation attempting to attract foreign investment and to expand foreign trade. Diaz also began to move in the direction of granting monopolies of scale to foreign as well as Mexican investors, instead of continuing with small, local monopolies. Also in the 1880s President Diaz began to move some tariff rates lower and lower to encourage import of certain raw materials and manufactured goods that Mexico needed to build import substitution industries of its own. These tariff reductions were also supposed to encourage creation of a Mexican merchant marine for overseas shipping. But customs-tax policy proved insufficient in this regard.* 2 With this sort of policy it was plain that the president wanted to force Mexican industrial and agricultural production as rapidly as possible. The short-range objectives were to build a domestic market and to take whatever savings in foreign exchange might result from that and from expanding industrial activity. This kind of industrial emphasis seemed promising, because the railroads kept on showing new savings for transport of large amounts of materials. Railroads also broadened the market for sales of many products. One of the early results of this constructive influence was the arrival of Europeans, in small numbers but equipped to establish new businesses. Some brought their own funds. Others borrowed in Mexico, or combined their operations in partnership with well-to-do Mexicans. In the central core of the country, in the cities, these new businesses and industries began to show important results. They further broadened the traditionally diversified pattern of Mexico's industrial production. 31 Agriculture was to remain the least served of all major sectors of the economy. There were bright spots, to be sure, as with the cotton industry, whose expansion was one of the more important developments Mexico needed for purposes of import substitution. With the crossing of new railroads through the Laguna District in north-central Mexico, where climate and soil were ideal for cotton cultivation, the insufficient production began to rise. Finally, the center of this agricultural industry moved into the Laguna District —the "Comarca Lagunera" as it was called—away from its former focus near the Gulf Coast. The rising production of cotton was immediately usable in Mexico's textile plants and would fill a real national need. In general, however, agriculture did not see a renaissance, even though

12

Introduction

railroads were supposedly creating opportunities to move any amount of product from one region to another and into the export trade. One can guess that one of the main problems was that few rich foreigners chose to invest in agricultural production. A few did enter the cotton industry, and a few others appeared as producers of semitropical crops for export. Some established large cattle ranches. And as time went on foreigners were to be seen in small swarms in almost every other realm of economic activity. But in agriculture the foreign investors were too few. 34 Frequently they were unskilled and met disaster amid the intricacies of tropical and semitropical commercial farming. One of the many exceptions to this general rule was William Purcell, who did invest very successfully in cotton cultivation and concurrently in mining, as well as in other enterprises including cattle raising, in the state of Coahuila. But the question arises whether there were inducements enough to tip the balance toward Mexico in the minds of foreign entrepreneurs looking for agricultural opportunities. They could choose to put their skills and their money into any one of a number of other parts of the world, some of which were at the time becoming colonies of European powers. Investors who leaned toward pastoralism also had a very wide choice of opportunities in southern South America, in Canada or the United States, in Australia, or in New Zealand. In all those regions model enterprises were already showing strong success. In addition, all those other lands were of a temperate climate, so familiar to western Europeans and North Americans. Whatever the reasons, the formula of jacking up the economy by attracting foreign investment had limited success in agriculture. Mexico entered the 1880s without the great strength in the rural economy that had been expected. In time, the land policies of the 1880s and 1890s would be among the government's earlier attempts to solve this problem of slow growth in agriculture. So also would the regime eventually turn, in the late 1880s, to a new waters policy, a development with which this present work principally concerns itself. By the 1880s the president was using at least five techniques or approaches to coax in foreign investment while keeping Mexican money in the country and attracting it into economic enterprises. Those five approaches were: (1) to assure safety for the persons and property of well-todo people; (2) to increase the reliability of government assistance to owners of large, productive properties; (3) to afford speedier and better service to private enterprises and to property owners of large scale by an increasing number of bureaucrats; (4) to offer all manner of inducements to foreign investors; and (5) to continue to encourage the building of new facilities such as railroads and port works. All these general lines of policy contained many special programs and incentives designed for single industries, or for

Introduction

13

individuals of particular personal or political importance to the president. The five approaches were, of course, of greater symbolic than material benefit during their early days. 55 These techniques, elaborated as needed in specific cases by the leading officials of the central government, helped to achieve the important goal of creating a climate of hope and promise for those with money to invest. Thus the close attention to funding the national debt 86 and to banking and monetary policies, from the late 1880s onward, proved to be necessary and also of specific use to the government. All those fiscal reforms directly advanced the policies of providing additional infrastructure facilities. They also advanced the cause of increasing the reliability of government support to property owners. By the 1890s the government had had notable success in establishing Mexico's standing in world money centers, allowing President Diaz to arrange new loans for the many expenditures the government then wished to make to enhance and to speed economic development. The government had already organized an effective rural police to assure safety for well-to-do people residing or working outside the cities. Over time the president also made it clear that he expected state governors to use military or police units to keep the peace or to restore "stability" wherever it might be threatened. As time went on, through the 1880s and 1890s, this objective of safety for influential persons, and security for their properties, met with success." Only near the turn of the century and thereafter did these conditions deteriorate. Then, embryonic labor groups and the government's armed guardians of order began to come into direct conflict. During the 1880s the central government's policies laid the groundwork for remarkable gains that would occur in several sectors of the economy during the 1890s. The president and congress set forth procedures and structures of incentives for all kinds of private enterprise. The railroad acts of 1880, 1881, and 1883 were such actions." The tariff was reduced in 1880, 1885, and 1887 to favor imports of some materials and equipment. Customs taxes on many consumer products rose so as to favor Mexican manufacturing and public utilities.' 9 The central government made important changes in mining legislation late in 1883 and issued a new mining code in 1884. This was followed by "the Mining, Agriculture, and Industry Act of 1886; the revision of the mining tax law in 1887"; 40 and many other new measures intended to encourage private investment. To the same effect the congress authorized the Law of Waters of Federal Jurisdiction on June 5, 1888. The president and congress worked out the major civil and criminal codes and made some early revisions in the civil law code. 41 All these were important "roadmap" indications for businessmen, industrialists, and commercial entrepreneurs. As David Pletcher understands it, this large body of constructive policy

14

Introduction

making reflected President Porfirio Diaz's gradual success in establishing close control over the political process. He came to dominate the congress by the middle years of the 1880s. His new coalition in public affairs now included "an increasing number of old-line liberals and neo-conservatives."4* These men represented two generations, the Liberals mostly being veterans of the Juárez and Lerdo regimes while the neo-Conservatives often were younger people now making their first appearance in the congress or in private corporations. What President Diaz had been doing in economic policies was part and parcel of his step-by-step achievement of political domination. Those who could be bound to the regime by favors and services, he courted. Those who would never be friends could be frightened or neutralized, or given enough of what they wanted to quiet them. Landowners were aided in extending their holdings. Businessmen could expect assistance at crucial moments. Intellectuals received some preferment in employments somewhere in the government. And, as Raymond Vernon writes, President Diaz in his early years "winked at the local monopolies of business, the labor impressment systems of the mines and haciendas, and the illegal levies of states and municipalities." As Vernon sees it, Porfirio Díaz built a new and much more extensive system of "preferences and privileges for men of power—for Mexican hacienda owners, generals, and politicians, and for foreign investors as well."4® The characteristic of this system was that government gained piecemeal support from many diverse groups and individuals and thus acquired a broader base. But this seems to have occurred without any subsequent stage of unification wherein individuals might have become cooperative with each other in some relationship with government or politics. The superficial sign of this conglomerate political support was that no political party existed—none in support of the regime and not one opposed. Another way of seeing the disunified nature of the Diaz "system" in politics is to notice that key political appointments tended to follow an ageold pattern of patrimonialism, wherein the central concern was the appointee's loyalty to the president. But at the same time privileges were being granted to many other people in businesses and industries. Many of them never held political office. Few had anything in common with the patrimonial appointees occupying public posts of authority. The point here, thus, is to be aware of the fact that economic and political institutions in Mexico were being built of very disparate kinds of units. There was no concern for knitting the growing totality into networks or personal associations that would give the regime a strength beyond the simple presence of Porfirio Díaz in the presidency. Why the regime built its political strength, and to some extent the new

Introduction

15

economic strength of the country, in this patchwork and piecemeal fashion is a deep question, one we cannot resolve here in any important way. Three aspects of the developing picture are obvious enough, even though others were important. First, Porfirio Díaz knew he was managing the first Mexican regime that had ever had a hope of drawing together most of the influential Mexicans. He attracted people to support himself. He did not seem to feel that more complicated steps toward unification would ever be needed, beyond that fact of simple obedience to his regime. Second, there was much that was sensible, in a Mexican style, in taking real problems one after another and solving each one insofar as possible at the time. Many of Diaz's policies and appointments responded to this strong Mexican habit of confronting problems with available solutions that seemed to be the most rational alternatives. So Diaz linked himself with a very wide variety of people. Some were in office, and others possessed profitable enterprises or other privileges. He accumulated still other sorts of people in the growing bureaucracy. One may guess that no two of all these people received favor for the very same reasons. One might be a traditionalist, a very conservative hacendado; another, a neo-conservative banker; still another, a modern-minded, innovating bureaucrat. The latest to receive the president's smile might be an industrialist with no interest in government save as it might give him support. No one of these people might have the slightest interest in any of the others, nor any inclination to cooperate with any of them if asked to do so. Nor did this regime have the habit of making such requests, until its very last years. Third, and finally, whether Porfirio Díaz knew it or not, his kind of politico-economic policies sent many specific "signals" that were noted and acted upon by very different kinds of enterprising people. They responded to the "signals," not to a sense of common effort or common obligation or to any sense of personal responsibility to join in with others who were pursuing very different careers and objectives than their own. As one example, consider the large numbers of Mexicans and foreign immigrants who, during the 1890s and afterward, were establishing small- and middle-sized businesses in the cities. As far as we know, almost all these new owners and managers had no need to bother themselves about such others in the picture as army officers, owners of great haciendas, the thousands of rancheros, the millions of owners of tiny rural plots, or those other millions of laborers working in the countryside. Of course, it was those millions of people in the countryside to whom no encouraging "signals" were sent. Those people were not encouraged to act. As poor farmers and farm workers, they were acted upon. They were barred from their own lands, or driven out of their artisan careers by the coming of machine industry; or they were left illiterate in a world now

16

Introduction

becoming technologically more complex. And they were, if need be, overawed by the bully boys of this national regime. So, as for the economy, Porfirio Diaz and his advisers had "no preconceived plan in the pattern of growth." 44 These Mexican leaders were to some extent pragmatic and opportunistic in backing successes no matter how unexpected those might be. So also in the political realm: the regime seemed to have no scheme in mind for development of a national political system. The obvious model, a democratic society with appropriate political institutions, had been deferred. It survived only as a long-range expectation, not in any way to be advanced during that generation. The federal constitution contained many strong provisions for a democratic polity, but these attracted nothing more than lip service. Political leaders seemed to believe that democracy in practice was something that would come, very slowly. Such things belonged to the future, but not to the near future. One might even say that the regime, busy at stabilizing its economic and financial affairs, merely sought to establish a sort of atmosphere in political life. What was wanted was a general feeling among powerful people that would most favor economic development and expansion. No effort existed to consolidate a national political structure that could cut across class, state, or family lines and that could perhaps bring a new sort of loyalty transcending that of the different social origin particular to each individual. 45 Still, Porfirio Diaz's political and economic policy approaches were of positive advantage. They did work very well from the 1870s until some time shortly after 1900. As we will see, the early twentieth century brought with it pressures too strong for the economic policies, strong enough to shatter a government in which personal loyalty to the president was the only binding factor. If the brief analysis just stated is realistic, it amounts to saying that the regime simply played off important figures and groups against one another. 46 This is the way of life of weak and strong regimes alike, and it had been familiar enough in Mexico for some time past. The remarkable fact is that Porfirio Diaz continued to rely upon this sort of maneuvering long after he had accumulated real strength and power. So we might well expect that supporters of this regime were of very different beliefs and viewpoints. As W. Dirk Raat has analyzed the leading ideas and assumptions propounded by supporters of the president, these people did indeed hold a very wide variety of ideas. Presumably they held those ideas very strongly, with no tendency for the different views to draw together into master doctrines common to all. And the regime seems to have made no effort toward intellectual uniformity. Variety of ideas was, if anything, encouraged by the fact that the president's pronouncements usu-

Introduction

17

ally remained within the common zone of discussion of desirable "blue-sky" objectives. Until his later years Porfirio Díaz could hardly be seen to espouse any specific system of thought. His own public statements tended to divide his potential rivals and to focus attention upon himself, because he so consistently posed as the one great living symbol of nationalism and progress.47 Raat examines the various visible social groups, such as the emerging Mexican bourgeoisie—"businessmen,' industrialists, lawyers, engineers, educators, and commercial farmers" 4 '—and emphasizes the largely reformist attitudes of upper- and middle-class intellectuals. The many discernible currents of thought among these Mexicans indicates to Raat that many changes may have occurred in the liberalism that had dominated the thinking of influential Mexicans as recently as the 1860s. Long before 1910 liberalism consisted of several parallel ways of viewing Mexican society and its needs. 49 In a more general sense, though, liberalism, by turning away from its interests in civil rights and welfare for the masses while turning toward a belief in the importance of economic liberty and individualism, gradually became cdngruent with the central assumptions of Mexican conservative thought. Both the new Liberals and the neo-Conservatives saw the need for holding firm to the sanctity of private property. Both would favor state action, the Conservatives to promote mercantile interests and the Liberals to create a rural landholding middle class. Both were apathetic at the mention of bettering the lives of poor people in general or Indians in particular. Both were firm believers in the inevitability of progress and in actions to advance that goal. 50 What this meant was that the older liberalism gradually lost its sharp definition and something of its program, becoming a more general attitude 51 a great many people of variant beliefs could accept. Within this broad sort of consensus there were discernible groups with much more pointed and shaped sets of beliefs. Of these the científico, or scientist, viewpoint was "a kind'of reforming Darwinism in which natural elites, employing the techniques of science and sociology, could shape the evolutionary development" 58 of the society. These científicos were not antiIndian; they simply were not interested in Indians and had no faith in Indian contributions to the bright future of the nation. The científicos were mildly anticlerical. In all, it is clear enough that "the intellectual milieu of the Porfiriato was very pluralistic." 53 That was no doubt a strength for the regime rather than a source of weakness. All Porfirian elites could believe themselves to be in accord with underlying objectives such as economic development and growth. Many if not all could subscribe to the government's slow drift into state capitalism.

18

Introduction

Until after 1900 there was no occasion for important collisions of ideas, no need to fear differences of opinion within the influential circles most supportive of President Porfirio Diaz.

FROM THE EARLY NINETIES

TO THEPANIC

OF 1907

After the troublesome recession of 1889-1893 had gone its way, the Mexican economy seemed to take on new life. Some improvements that had been intended and many that came quite unexpectedly now combined for a strong, very visible expansion and development on a large scale. For a time it must have seemed that the very dissimilar economic activities all around the country were all to go forward together, overcoming conflicts of interests and countervailing effects that appear to us in retrospect. Manufacturing, trade and commerce, transport, banking, the development of energy resources, mining, and commercial agriculture all seemed to be prospering. Indeed, some of these sectors continued to expand and develop even beyond the end of the regime in the year 1911. No doubt the leaders of Mexico's government were less and less able to analyze, let alone to control, these processes of expansion and growth. 54 Stimuli came from many sources, only some of which were then identified or understood. Some of the important positive changes originated in Mexico, but more and more often the change came from some shift in the world market or from technological innovation being made abroad. Both benefits and detriments came more and more frequently, and their effects were more complex and unpredictable than ever before. In fact, Mexico was now quickly becoming one more national unit in a burgeoning economy dominated by western Europeans and North Americans. Its new, more binding dependence occurred when rapid technological changes were affecting finance, corporate organization, marketing, production, and scopes of both public and private investment. One sign of the times was the more inclusive, "vertical" operation of some businesses now organized as "trusts"—would-be monopolies of all possible aspects of a given kind of economic operation. Another sign of important change was the increasing pressure for much larger amounts of both public and private investment—to facilitate, to modernize, to expedite, and to provide increasing margins of security for entrepreneurs operating in riskier conditions. An example of the new conditions of dependence was that some crops grown in Mexico for export would meet new, very stiff competition from other parts of the world now producing those same crops for sale abroad. One of the first responses to the new conditions and challenges was the regime's emphasis after about 1890 on strengthening and speeding the rail-

Introduction

19

roads' effectiveness in stimulating economic activities, both old and new. In the much stronger hand in railroad policy, in eventual ownership and operation of railroads, what is most noticeable is the combined energy and conservatism of the government's style.56 These were characteristics to be found in all the new nationalistic economic policies of the government from the early 1890s until the difficult years after 1905. Then, in very different fiscal conditions, the government's grip would in some ways weaken. Railroad building in Mexico had been proceeding on notably conservative lines, linking centers of large economic production and leading toward the most useful export points on the Gulf Coast and along the United States-Mexican border. At first railroads had belonged to a number of corporations of U.S. origin. But now most of Mexico's railways were controlled by only two North American concerns: Standard Oil and the Speyer banking firm. Fearing that the railroads might easily come under a single hand, 5 ' perhaps that of E. H. Harriman, the Mexican government reacted. It took steps to send exports directly to European destinations rather than to the United States by rail, as was the increasing trend up to that time. It now tried to favor export to Europe from Gulf ports, rather than export to the United States across the common land border, partly because U.S.owned railroads discriminated in their rates. They favored U.S. imports rather than European; and rates were low for U.S. exports to Mexico but high for Mexican exports into the United States along the same rail lines. As it proved, the gradual increase of Mexican government control of railroad operations, including acquisition of railroads after 1900, did not become a source of conflict either with private railroad owners or with the U.S. government. This was for several good reasons. The owners of the companies had been treated openhandedly during their long years of building. They ordinarily had not shown profits in operation, but they had come away very well from their combined investment of construction and operation. Now that they were losing their stake to the Mexican government, they were being paid better than market value for their holdings. 57 And, they were receiving a very good rate of interest each year on balances still owed them by Mexico's government. Another very conservative set of policies was now in operation in regard to the national budget and in such related aspects as banking and monetary policy. The intent was to establish in the eyes of foreign financiers the absolute reliability of the Mexican government in three respects: the government's solvency; its responsiveness to the balance of spending and income; and its willingness to improve the tax situation for private enterprisers. Established in the early and middle 1890s, these policies would go on, with many modifications, and would decline only during the difficult times between 1905 and 1908. Very quickly Diaz and his advisers showed that they would be responsible

20

Introduction

for the national debt, that they would budget a surplus each year rather than a deficit, and that they would exert close control over the slowly growing banking industry. For the Mexican government there were several badly needed benefits in all this. One was the ability to borrow abroad so as to escape the limitations set on the government's budget while it still came mostly from taxes on foreign trade. And, with a more lively banking environment, the government could borrow from Mexican banks. With those new sources of funds at hand, the government would be able to spend for many purposes that had had to be deferred while much of the national budget had gone to paying the railroad-building companies. As Laura Randall sees it, these policies had very different effects. The banking reforms were extremely useful, resulting, by 1911, in about eightynine times the credit availability of 1882. By contrast, she believes that the various policies to control the money supply were in the end "disastrous" and that they hampered economic development over the years.58 The budget surpluses the government insisted on amassing every year after 1894 were well used, Randall believes, only in the one sense of creating a national market, "but were inadequate in other areas of development promotion." Nor does she find that budget surpluses were used in investments to offset the unemployment caused by taking these funds out of the private investment picture in the first place.5® These and other policies were new in the 1890s and were all in the hands of a new minister of the treasury, José Yves Limantour, who after 1893 took to himself a steadily increasing scope of action even beyond the Treasury's broad powers. His help was important in making policies in foreign trade and in various aspects of development. Indeed, Limantour's conservative and energetic hand was felt in the central government's policies to the very end of the Diaz presidency. He was the most prominent personal symbol of the regime in its day-to-day relationships with foreign investors and with diplomatic representatives of those nations with which Mexico wished to be in close and profitable association. So the national government of Mexico tried to make sure that a foreigner in need of advice, or eager to invest but uncertain of the prospects, would have easy access to persons of high authority. The president was accessible and would spend whatever time proved to be necessary to discuss all aspects of a planned enterprise or of a diplomatic involvement. Various ambassadors, visitors from the United States, and the increasingly important British entrepreneur Weetman Pearson were often with the president. More time with such individuals was spent by Limantour, who was believed to be the president's closest adviser and who was personally known to many important people in Europe and in the United States. And the ministries of government that counted for business, finance, and other economic

Introduction

21

endeavors were now staffed with competent assistant secretaries. Each had his efficient oficial mayor with equally good understanding of policies and their ramifications. Such a person was Andres Aldasoro in the Ministry of Development, who spent much of his time conferring with capitalists, both foreigners and Mexicans. It is worth stressing this important aspect of the regime in action after the early 1890s, because we have known the other side of the picture—that Diaz froze appointments at high levels of government, so that long before 1911 the president's cabinet and other high figures in the administration seemed to be "largely a collection of mummies." 60 Other very conservative policies were now more strongly emphasized. These were aimed at increasing agricultural production by manipulating the landowning picture and by encouraging colonization, irrigation, and hydroelectric power generation. 61 In the many changes of land and water policies after 1890, the attempt was to put resources into the hands of those believed to be most likely to use them to achieve higher levels of production of food, or of raw materials for industry or for export. Laws were expected to encourage corporations and individuals to develop more power sources and to establish more industries. One of the best known of all the policies, for instance, was the encouragement of land acquisition by land survey followed by sale to private parties. Also, land could be acquired by legal condemnation proceedings when title to the property could not be proved by those occupying it. Lands that had been in the public domain were now to be taken off by survey companies (who would receive one-third of all territory over which they worked). So by procedures and policies that established firm titles and known bounds, much more unused land would now be put into production. At least that was the belief. The hope was that some Mexican laborers and great numbers of educated immigrants would do the hard work needed to convert those previously unused lands into effective, producing economic units which Mexico needed so badly to swell its production of staple foods and industrial materials. In other words, the regime saw at last that it had not been enough simply to lay rails through so many parts of Mexico. Where there was not enough farm product, even the presence of railways was not in itself calling forth the additional production needed to make a large national market composed of millions of consumers in the money economy, buying and selling along the railroad lines. Mexico's farmers could not yet become consumers of such a variety of merchandise. They were not yet producing enough to take advantage of the additional goods the railroads could bring. For whatever reasons, the conservative policies regarding lands and waters, favoring rich enterprisers as they did, did not bring about any pro-

22

Introduction

portional increase in farm production. Only where commercial agriculture was involved, and only when that was efficiently done, were real gains to be seen. Of course, the railroads' presence did, from the beginning, bring new supplies, create some new markets, and to a satisfying degree support the operation of industries of all sizes in the cities. The railroads also had signal success in making possible a relocation and a steady growth in the cottonraising industry. And cotton was badly needed, not only to supply Mexico's oldest machine industry but also to substitute for the expensive import of raw cotton and finished textiles. As for the production of staple foods—corn, beans, rice, and others— however, neither the railroads' 1 nor the lands and waters policies made enough difference. In this failure to keep agriculture moving forward with other important sectors of the economy, the national policies reflected basic flaws in the whole economic approach being managed by the central government. There was a tendency to favor friends and relatives, some of them great hacendados and others just now buying land. There was a disinclination to disturb the structure of the economy or of society, if to do so promised political difficulties. There was a tendency, moreover, toward the kind of policies that Liberals in the United States and in western Europe were preaching if not always practicing. So, until the serious disturbances brought from the world into Mexico in 1905-1908, the government continued with agricultural policies that were showing very mild results. These policies still stressed encouragement of foreign immigration and heavy capitalization of farm properties. Among the justifiable criticisms of the national lands policy is, first of all, the fact that when results were not forthcoming, the regime simply continued this policy inherited from Presidents Juárez and Lerdo de Tejada. Still later, the Diaz regime merely intensified the same policies instead of looking for something more promising. From 1894 to 1902 Mexico was still trying to carry through policies originally set running in 1863 and in 1875, even though results in productivity had not been seen. Another criticism of the lands policy is that in spite of various disadvantages, the small ranchos were steadily increasing in numbers and might have been easy enough to encourage in some zones of the country where these smallish properties abounded." Such facts were widely known at the time, were discussed frequently in newspapers after 1900, and were the occasion of a good deal of pointed exposition by skilled agronomists and other agricultural experts in the federal government and in state governments. On the eve of the Revolution, the picture of which they were a part was once again drawn in graphic terms by Andrés Molina Enriquez in his book Los grandes problemas nacionales. But this whole matter of direct aid for small-holding farmers ran counter to the liberal-conservative beliefs of Mexico's leaders.

Introduction

23

When they made direct and massive expenditures in the people's behalf, it was to provide potable water and sewerage service for the population of Mexico City. Or, again for those who lived in the capital city, there was the project to improve and to spruce up the facilities of Chapultepec Park. As for the government's policy for colonizing foreign immigrants on agricultural lands, Moisés González Navarro has shown that the effort was as consistent as possible. There was a reason for encouraging land surveys and agricultural colonies, which went ahead hand in hand. The belief was that immigrants would come to the farming country only if they knew their land was waiting for them, already surveyed and subdivided. This is why the government brought forward the laws of 1883 and 1894.64 One other conservative policy of the regime, important in offering an incentive to rich entrepreneurs, was the lack of encouragement of better wages or living standards for poor working people. By leaving hands off any activity favoring workers during labor troubles, and by not taking up the cause of the underfed and sickly families, the regime supported freedom of action for employers, investors, and managers. Whether we think of the growing industrial work force, of village artisans, of poor farm laborers, or even of Indians living within mestizo towns or in the countryside, ss the government did very little to help them directly—and nothing to inform them of their rights as citizens. After 1900 the government was even less inclined to help poor people, because great problems appeared in funding the government's operation, in economic policies, and in foreign relations. So government was less attentive to land disputes, labor difficulties encountered by workers, or what became so general in the early years of the century: the day-to-day struggle for survival by needy people. The regime had its best times at the very end of the nineteenth century. Refunding the national debt at more favorable interest rates allowed Mexico to borrow more money abroad. So government could spend in a variety of ways instead of having to commit such a large percentage of each annual budget to payments on various debts. And the habit of renegotiating the debt with foreign bankers while reporting a budget surplus each year still encouraged foreign investment. The large banking houses of western Europe and of New York City still looked with favor upon Mexico's activities and appreciated Mexico's friendly attitude toward private enterprise. 86 Foreign trade was still growing. Foreign investments were increasing faster than before. So were reinvestments of profits by European-owned concerns in the country, carrying with them funds put in by Mexicans in these "second generation" enterprises that possessed both foreign and domestic capital. 67 Until the early years of this century the terms of trade— the relationship between prices paid for imports and prices earned by exports—were favorable enough to be of real support in Mexico's economic

24

Introduction

growth. There was a positive effect, too, from the termination of internal customs taxes (alcabalas) in the late 1890s. Little by little, such influences helped to create a national market. And in the background was another favorable factor, the friendly attitude of the governments of the United States and Great Britain. The unexpected bonanza of the early twentieth century was in mining. That industry had been receiving benefits from railroad service and now began to boom for a number of additional reasons. Soon it was clear that production was increasing amazingly, and in many cases profits were also rising. These tendencies continued vigorously into the period of the civil wars after 1910, constituting the "greatest expansion" in Mexican mining. Indeed, production almost doubled between 1900 and 1910, despite depressed conditions from 1906 to 1908, and Mexico became "El Dorado." M Miners were now able to open new productive zones, to broaden their operations from precious to base metals, to start coal production, to make a crucially important change from the patio to the cyaniding process of extraction, and to benefit from electrification at both old and new sites. An important development was the installation of smelters in many parts of Mexico. This was but one of several indications that some metals could be sold in more than one of the international markets; for instance, some owners now could sell to Europe when United States tariffs rose to prohibitory levels. And now that smelting was being done widely throughout the country, the railroads' stimulating effects became even stronger—even though more spur lines could have been built to reach even more of the mining zones. Mexico now produced and sent into foreign markets much more gold and silver and some zinc. Copper production became both important and extremely profitable, along with the newest gold discoveries west of Pachuca. Owners were able to invest in the best machinery, and they had the money to carry out exploration and development at many new sites. Before 1910 properties and operations were consolidating into what seemed to be infant "trusts" or at least very large, integrated enterprises on a scale not seen before in Mexico. This tendency for foreign owners and Mexicans to unite their large operations worried some Mexican capitalists as well as the government. The threat of monopoly by foreign interests soon occasioned policies of economic nationalism, directed especially by Treasury Minister José Limantour against North American owners between 1909 and 1911. Part of the tendency to consolidate operations—from extraction through smelting, transport, and sale—resulted from two innovations: cyaniding of ore and electrification of mines. While the smaller gold and silver operators in many cases became independent of the big companies' smelters, the very large corporations were able to profit by integrating their processes.

Introduction

25

Meanwhile, large corporate developments in electricity became profitable, partly because power could now be sold not only to cities but to nearby mining camps and factories. Together, cyaniding and electricity had a "revolutionary effect" in the mining industry. Production of silver, having declined after 1898, rose by almost 300 percent between 1904 and 1911. Some of the enterprises barely beginning at that time were very large ones. Such was the project undertaken by S. Pearson and Son, which reorganized its venture, with headquarters at Montreal, as the Northern Mexican Power Company in 1909. The aim was to generate 36,000 horsepower, which would involve creating a lake with a surface area of 175 square kilometers to be filled from the Rio Conchos. Most of the power developed by this corporation later, in the early 1920s, went to mining operations in the state of Chihuahua. In all, before the Revolution the great savings and added capacity attributable to electrification brought the power companies and mining enterprises into "mutual dependence" in many parts of the country. 69 Nevertheless, even with the great new strength in aggregate production in many industries, now including steel and many another, the golden years came to an end before 1905. The very last years of Porfirio Diaz's regime were filled with struggles against many problems the government finally found impossible to solve or, in some cases, even to mitigate. The full pattern of deterioration is not yet known in detail. Some aspects are clear enough, though, and the fact that problems were accumulating rather than being solved was understood at the time, of course. One way to characterize the concatenation of difficulties that became so hard to deal with about 1905-1908 is to say that the domestic market had not yet become large or strong enough to offset highly unfavorable conditions. A number of factors upon which Mexico had come to depend now turned against continuation of economic growth. These conditions were out of control. It can also be said that some sectors of the economy were not quite strong enough to go on functioning well in a time of world financial stringency, of reduction of foreign trade, and of extremely poor domestic crops in 1907-1908 and 1910-1911. The earliest unfavorable fact to appear was a gradual shift in the terms of trade. Mexico began to earn less from exports, and had to pay more for imports so badly needed. 70 Another unfavorable aspect to the foreign trade situation was that, with too little food in the country, Mexico increasingly bought basic foods abroad beginning in the 1890s and continuing to the end of the regime in 1911. Also, the flow of foreign trade was diminishing 71 for some reasons that were clear and others not so obvious. For instance, some foreign buyers were now able to find cheaper stocks elsewhere and thus no longer bought in Mexico. In addition, there was the decision in 1905 to put Mexico on the gold

26

Introduction

standard. The effects of this move, favorable at first, seriously disadvantaged the economy beginning in 1907. A result was shortage of loan funds from Europe and from the United States and a consequent shortage of hard money circulating in Mexico.' 1 The decision for the gold standard resulted from long consideration of such continuing difficulties as unstable price levels. Instability in the value of the Mexican peso continued while Mexico relied upon silver in a bimetallic system. In 1903 Secretary of the Treasury Jose Limantour called a conference among leading bankers and government figures to discuss this whole situation. Once again, as it had been during the early days of Don Porfirio's rule, their concern was with the appearance of things. What degree of confidence could exist among financiers, investors, and business people as long as "unstable" conditions of price and money value persisted? David Pletcher points out that in addressing this problem, "most of the delegates" to this 1903 conference probably weighed most heavily the dangers they saw resulting from bimetallism, such as "the heavy burden on the budget, the draining away of Mexican resources, and the fear lest inflation drive away foreign capital." , s Just at the time of the conference the Mexican and Chinese governments were trying to obtain some guarantee from the United States of a stable relationship between gold and silver prices. The governments wanted "stability," meaning a more predictable price level, in foreign trade and credit operations. By that time, greatly expanded activity in the economy had led to correspondingly greater nervousness at the prospect of wide swings in prices and interest rates. There was fear at the very thought of reduction in the rate of foreign investment. In this matter the Mexican government was involved quite as heavily as private bankers were, its programs now depending on regularly borrowing abroad. The question was how to assure whatever would favor the flow of money into the country and whatever would help with the outward flow of goods, while minimizing any influences that worked against these processes. The answer was to go to the gold standard, a step Limantour took in 1904 with permission of the congress. These decisions of 1903 and 1904 were not quite the simple sort of policy determinations that had been possible a generation before. Not only were the stakes much higher and possible adverse effects much more threatening, but it was now quite impossible to make large policies without risking, or actually causing, injury to some active interests. 74 In 1903-1904 it was bankers and industrialists who most favored the move to the gold standard, with the government's fiscal experts strongly in support, even though it was believed that silver miners would be hurt in their future trading, as would commercial agriculture, which depended just as closely on foreign markets. Henequen producers in particular would no longer be able to hope for a

Introduction

27

favorable exchange rate to help them pay the large mortgages they were carrying. These producers, along with many of Mexico's other barons of commercial agriculture, were probably weighed down by that time, not only by mortgages on their land but also by payments on the modern machinery they had bought. The henequen planters had for some years been yoked to monopolistic operations that in 1903 were coming into the hands of the new International Harvester Company. That corporation bought henequen while selling machinery to the established planters." So Mexico seemed likely to become more and more vulnerable to "effects of oscillation of prices and relationships with foreign nations"' 6 now that it had adopted the gold standard. The question remained whether this attempt by Mexico to stabilize the relationship between dollar and peso— then standing at one to two—could be successful as long as Mexico did not keep large dollar balances in New York to support its credit operations there. 77 As Clark Reynolds assesses the situation during Diaz's final years, Mexico was "following the pattern of a typical export economy." The stress was on cheap labor costs, growing exploitation of natural resources, and inputs of technology and foreign capital, elements that would force export products to lead economic growth. 78 The government emphasized these kinds of policies with remarkable consistency, at the same time trying to reduce the heavy proportion of the budget spent in subsidies for public works and railroads and in payments against the rapidly growing public debt held abroad. In addition, increasingly after 1900 an attempt was made to escape U.S. domination of Mexico's economy,79 a costly objective if, indeed, it was possible at all. It was expensive, for instance, to buy so many of the railroads. But led by Treasury Minister Limantour, the government persisted in this effort, acquiring control and ownership of the companies and establishing, finally, the public entity Ferrocarriles Nacionales de México in 1909. Acquiring interests in the railroads, however, added another debt to be carried by the national budget, another fixed obligation that always had to be met. 80 The last several years of the regime became a picture both of intense activity and of futility in the government's policy making. In addition to trying to solve all the older problems, the regime now undertook to confront other serious matters not before dealt with but now too urgent to overlook. In other words, the government was trying to do much more at a time when domestic incomes had decreased and foreign borrowing had become difficult if not impossible to arrange. 81 One of the problems so long overlooked which had to be dealt with now because of its threatening political potential was the condition of subsistence agriculture. The government considered this responsible for the

28

Introduction

falling living standards among the rural poor. It was clear that the rural population did not have enough food, and that famine could strike those people, as it did after 1907, in spite of a national railroad network that should be able to bring supplies quickly. Many poor country people were leaving Mexico; in fact, more Mexicans were living abroad than there were immigrants residing in the country." Simultaneously, however, the president was beginning to spend heavily for improvement of still another aspect of rural life, the provision of basic education. As we will see in later chapters of this work, the government felt itself forced to begin with expensive and nationwide planning and spending for irrigation facilities that might help to increase the lagging pace of agricultural production. It also could no longer avoid reconsidering land policies that had so long been ineffective or counterproductive in the effort to increase output of staple foods. These few examples from one sector of the economy can barely suggest the storm of activity the Diaz regime was trying to create, particularly from 1908 until the spring of 1911. The government was at last making a very broadly based series of responses to unmistakable facts that showed how badly poor people fared in the countryside, in towns, and in the cities. The gods themselves, however, seemed to have turned their backs on Mexico's leaders. As the accumulated problems became more and more urgent, yet always more difficult to resolve, the most valuable asset of the regime seemed to be disappearing. That incomparable treasure had been the appearance of peace, stability, and progress, an invaluable sense of success that now was fading day by day. So also, at the time of his greatest need, any semblance of unity behind the president began to slip away. The U.S. government, the bankers of New York and London, the great hacendados, the Mexican army, the long-established members of the presidential cabinet — all seemed to be deserting the cause of Don Porfirio's leadership and personal domination. A presidential candidate arose against him from within one of those families that had most benefited from the policies for modern industry and commercial agriculture. Industrial laborers, smallholders in the countryside, political activists, and students in the cities were all in increasing tumult. In the fall of 1910 a number of very different kinds of events furnished dramatic emphasis to the picture of contradictions and contradictory processes8® which had been so typical of the long phase of Mexican history now coming to its close. First came the president's own final moment of grandeur, the celebrations at Mexico City marking with pomp and parade, and in light of its recent amazing progress, the centennial of Mexico's independence. Then came still another brilliant echo of the policies for economic growth, when Edward Doheny discovered a huge oil deposit in his new

Introduction

29

Huasteca field on September 11, 1910. This "gusher" "opened an era in Mexican economic history in which she soon became the third oil producer in the world" and made Doheny a millionaire once again, a foreigner in the forefront of exploitation of wealth in Mexico.84 Hardly had these events passed when Francisco Madero declared his defiance and made his public call for an uprising of citizens to remove Porfirio Díaz from his high office. And while the Madero uprising was in the making, a social revolution was brewing in the Mexican countryside, in the state of Morelos. Agrarian revolt would spread across the face of Mexico, whose people in the fall of 1910 did indeed stand "at the edge of the storm." 85 Porfirio Díaz had inherited from his predecessor, Sebastián Lerdo de Tejada, a government intent on economic growth and development but almost equally determined to bring about civil liberty and democracy in Mexico. Diaz spent his more than thirty years in office in narrowing those objectives, seeking economic progress in any way he saw to be effective. To him and his supporters it was the creation of wealth that was urgent. All the other fine things—an educated populace, a democratic polity, and a commonwealth as civilized as those of Europe—would follow inevitably upon the appearance of enough prosperity, enough wealth. Since 1877 Mexico had seen an ever more mixed pattern of major decisions for the national future. Yet Porfirio Díaz began as president at a time when most influential Mexicans would probably have expected no more of government than that it protect and facilitate the march of private enterprise. Toward the end of his regime, however, Diaz was acquiring private properties for the government and enforcing strong policies of economic nationalism. Nonetheless, that swing toward stronger government participation in the economy never meant the abandonment of older attitudes or motives. As in his earlier days, when he accumulated his own national power, Porfirio Díaz continued to give important favors to friends, associates, and relatives. And throughout his time in office he continued the older liberal policies of friendship and favor to those who, as foreigners or as Mexicans, would invest in the country's future. So Porfirio Díaz broadened and deepened but did not change the base of the government's role in economic life. The gradual intensification of the government's influence was, in its earlier years, an economic counterpart of what Diaz was then doing to assure political support for his regime. At first, he accumulated individual supporters rather than integrating a whole new political structure. What is interesting and important in the later history of this president's management of affairs is that both in economic policies and in administration there would continue to be elaboration and change. Indeed, in economic policies, and in developing a mod-

30

Introduction

ern bureaucracy called forth by such policies, Porfirio Diaz's government continued to evolve until its very last days, as we will see in the chapters that follow. But as for political structure and organization, the regime more and more seemed to be at a standstill. More simply put, in all that related to joining Mexico's government with her people, changes had ceased long years before the Revolution gave pause to this first major period of modernization in Mexico's economic life.

2 New A nalyses and Shifting Interpretations

In the final years of the nineteenth century a new sort of analysis of Mexico's economy began to break through the frozen assumptions of the old. This new mood was not made merely of the glimpsing of a few new needs or possibilities but was something like a reawakening of the habit of analysis itself. There was a desire to examine current facts with a new eye to their possible meanings. Among the many thousands of Mexicans who must have conversed along such lines, and among the many hundreds who wrote in this new vein, there were of course few perfectly similar views. There was no more a single analysis of the economic situation than there was any one set of interests among the observers themselves. But one can see common threads, parallel expectations, time after time. This is particularly evident in a new focus on economic integration and development, a stress on efficiency in use of resources, and an awakening feeling of economic nationalism. Of course, many of the writers, if not most, combined new viewpoints with emphases drawn from older beliefs. For instance, they carried over from the past the same sense of urgency concerning economic expansion which had long been prominent in the minds of Liberals. This stability of older belief, now giving way to shifts of emphasis and new concerns, is nowhere more graphic than in the procession of semiannual messages of the president of the republic to the houses of congress. The differences in detail from early to late years of the regime are striking enough. For example, the official messages began by dwelling on kilometers of railroad track to be added or then being added, but the later messages listed totals of cubic meters of irrigation water soon to be brought into use. Furthermore, the underlying generalities shifted even more than 31

32

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

can be seen in a change of target from railroad transport to irrigation agriculture. While some general emphases would change, however, the president's dissertations contained several solid assumptions that did not pale with time or with changing conditions. The foremost of these was the assurance that government encouragement would always be needed. The government's counsel would always be appropriate in a nation whose private entrepreneurs were still weak and insufficient for the economic needs at hand. Thus despite an occasional flat statement of complete faith in private entrepreneurship as the best weapon for winning prosperity, the president's air of confidence in announcing steady steps along the road of government intervention and control was unmistakable. Increasingly the impression was that while private interests would build prosperity, it was the national government that would identify and lead the attack upon the economic problems. As the years passed, some major changes of view did appear in the president's statements. At first these statements were a calm and satisfied reportage of small progressive steps. In the 1880s his view was that progress was assured because peace and security of property had now been won. National transportation, meaning the growing railway network, would guarantee the health of other activities in the economy, of which the most important by far was believed to be mining. In later years, however, Porfirio Diaz's words to the legislature were more urgent, including analytical remarks that emphasized the seriousness of problems and the urgency of needs. The first break from the older, self-satisfied viewpoint came in 1896 when the president for the first time referred to the earlier gains as great achievements of the past rather than as current and obvious proof of Mexico's growing wealth and prosperity. He pointed to the need to create new wealth and spoke of the importance of increasing the numbers of those enjoying a state of well being. He also spoke of the necessity of stabilizing the public finances and of finding ways to supply power and money enough to the government's whole economic effort. For the first time, too, he mentioned the need for great works of irrigation. Before 1896, his main points about agriculture had concerned the desirability of introducing new crop plants from abroad. Beginning with 1900 the government's analysis of problems became more evident, with a most interesting shift in stated priorities for various activities. Indeed, the government's viewpoint continued to change steadily until the end of the regime in 1911. As late as the 1904 messages, mining was still in first place in national economic concern; and President Diaz never really lost his respect for mining as the great national hope for wealth. But the analysis of means to advance agriculture, and the absolute

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

33

importance given to farming and its products, became steadily more evident in the president's words to the congress. Since the 1880s the creation of new agricultural settlements—"colonies" that were usually expected to consist of foreign immigrants who would farm industriously and with great efficiency—had been a high priority. The president's messages contained details of specific activities in both private and publicly supported colonization projects. But as the years passed the president's expressed confidence in the intelligent and moral farmer from abroad waned. In 1910 he admitted that colonization for an agricultural renaissance was not yet proving itself and that the whole matter would now require careful study. The other leading hope for agricultural wealth had been the program for transferring public lands into the hands of private corporations and individuals. A public-lands survey program allowed one-third of territories surveyed to pass to the companies doing the work. And the policies also included granting away or selling large tracts of public lands. But the president's confidence in the efficacy of these steps to help in increasing agricultural wealth weakened. In 1902 the survey and granting of lands were suspended, with a study commission created to look into all the basic aspects of the measuring and censusing of public lands. By 1904 the president's discussion of measures to benefit the economy had already begun to emphasize the granting of concessions to use waters from federal streams for both agriculture and power generation. He flatly stated that the future of agriculture, which so often before he had assumed to be proceeding well, could only be assured by solving the problem of irrigation on a national scale. Indeed, from 1907 to the end of his presidency, Porfirio Díaz pointed to agriculture as the most important branch of national wealth and stressed the need to advance it, along with power generation and industry, by increasing the use of water resources. This new emphasis came at the expense of other items in which the president had previously shown interest and confidence. One of these had been the activities carried on by the Comisión Geográfico-Exploradora, particularly in mapping. A second had been the increase in agricultural information and propaganda. Still another was the creation of regional agricultural schools. Thus, during his final year in office, President Diaz made the unequivocal statement that putting more water to use in irrigation was a more fundamental step than was the expansion of meteorological stations and facilities for recording rainfall, activities in which he had taken great interest in earlier years. What all this amounted to by 1910-1911 was that some of the government's familiar policies for economic development had, admittedly, failed, and that new policies were few and were still in the planning stages. This

34

New A nalyses and Shifting

Interpretations

was true for the public-lands policy and colonization, and almost as true for the whole approach to encouraging industrialization. Also, the banking industry, which the president thought had long since been corrected and put in good order, was not performing as hoped. Arrangements had been made in 1908 for a special banking effort in agriculture, power generation, and mining with the creation of the Caja de Préstamos para Obras de Irrigación y Agricultura, S.A. But at the end of his regime the president regarded all recent banking reforms to have been of uncertain effect. For agriculture, long-range efforts continued in such aspects as education, meteorology, mapping, propaganda, and new ideas and crops from abroad. Heavy emphasis now shifted, however, to whichever government programs promised quick or even immediate results in obtaining higher production. The president was well aware that Mexico was dealing with a whole complex of problems whose locus was in agriculture. These problems threatened to create weaknesses throughout the society and economy, and they might also destroy the somewhat fragile political system. First, the expectation that Mexico would work its way out of dependence upon the United States—by encouraging foreign investment in export-crop agriculture, for instance—had not been realized. The fiscal crises of recent years had cut down foreign investment, and in any case European investments had never equaled those coming from the United States. Also, Mexico had not been able to build sufficient electrical or other power facilities to make possible rapid expansion of agriculture, various industries, and ready power availability in general. All these things were needed in much greater profusion if Mexico were to escape dependence upon its northern neighbor. The president, in fact, was most intent on increasing hydroelectric generation of power, because this could be done almost anywhere and on almost any scale, although there also was hope for other likely sources of power, especially petroleum and coal. Agriculture also demanded the government's attention because Mexico so clearly did not produce enough food, nor enough raw materials for industry, to sustain its own national life and growth. By 1911 the president's view of agriculture, and of what was needed to build it anew, was much more complex and searching than it had been during the 1880s, when he had expected it to receive the needed degree of stimulation and growth from railway communications. Now, for the first time in years, Don Porfirio was again mentioning that other element in his original transportation program: the local roads needed to link Mexico's farmers with the railroad system and thus with national and foreign markets. The president's public statements on the economy were not as detailed or insightful as those of many of his bureaucrats, or as specific as those of many another Mexican. But his words did reflect the general movement

New A nalyses and Shifting Interpretations

35

and focus of opinion. As the nineteenth century faded into the early twentieth, he, along with many other Mexicans involved in large-scale economic decision making, came to realize that their fiscal system, their agriculture, their power supplies, their transportation facilities, and their dependent position in the Western world's marketing system were not correcting themselves. All of these presented problems urgently requiring the best attention that could be brought to bear. If the attention of the president was going almost entirely to considerations of economic expansion—with some awareness of problems of a structural kind — others were thinking deeply about development. They wanted to achieve efficiency in the use of scarce resources and felt a need both for stronger government action and for a posture of economic nationalism. These concerns are evident in thoughts about agriculture in general expressed widely before 1911 and in specific analyses focusing on problems of irrigation and the need for better use of more water on Mexico's farms. Almost all observers agreed upon certain facts, and some urgent objectives, for agriculture and its various roles in the economy. All agreed, for instance, that agricultural production had to be expanded notably and, almost as important, that there was a need for year-to-year stability. By "stability" they meant a reliable minimum output for food, for export, and for raw materials in industry. This goal reflected the well-recognized fact that Mexico's transportation and marketing networks were not yet such as to eliminate the garish contrast of plenty in one zone with famine in another. Even more hurtful was the recurrent need to import food at the cost of scarce foreign exchange. Unreliable sources of supply meant "bottleneck" shortages from year to year, and these conditions in turn brought extreme and unpredictable variations in prices. Few were the analysts after the late 1890s who could see Mexico's agricultural future as the expanding cornucopia of produce which had so long been expected. The questions discussed publicly tended to revolve not so much around whether to produce more, or whether to produce more evenly from one region to another in the country, as about how to have more production while never permitting supplies to fall so low as to bring on shortages and thus use up Mexico's foreign exchange. By and large there were two kinds of analyses being presented. One looked to thoroughgoing growth and development of the whole agricultural sector through a steady and massive flow of investment from both private and public sources. In its pure form this was a call for rapid introduction of all that was best in modern farming practices, equipment, choice of crops, marketing facilities, and credit availabilities. The expectation was that the national government, which had done so much to subsidize or pay outright for the huge infrastructure expense in railroading, would now

36

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

turn to spending on an equal scale to set Mexican agriculture on its feet. To do that would surely free Mexico from dependence upon the United States and would give Mexican products much freer movement in the world's markets. The general assumption of this analysis was that a new day for agriculture could come very soon. Indeed, those who held this view were unduly but firmly optimistic in all respects, having no second thoughts concerning the length of time necessary for Mexico to be adorned and studded with dams, aqueducts, power stations, processing plants, and the loops and whorls of local road systems. Nor did these thinkers pause to consider whether those who took possession of farmlands would indeed try to use them to achieve more production, or whether large landowners might not merely stand idle, waiting to sell their lands for speculative profit. Thus the trend in these "developmental" analyses was not toward identifying all the problems that might block the way to higher production. Instead, the point was to prescribe a full pattern of modernizing steps that could lead quickly to a vastly increasing national farm production in rural Mexico. Needless to say, this kind of prescription was likely to stress most of the methods and inventions readily available to heavily capitalized, large enterprises. That was the scale of effort that had shown results in the past, and surely it would be the way of the future as well. The second kind of analysis stressed instead those gains to be had from increasing efficiency in using resources in the system as it was. Innovations were of course desirable, and were central in this analysis, but what were underscored were those measures believed to be within reach of farmers working in moderate or small scales of operation and in all the variant circumstances of local farming throughout the republic. On this view there was much, perhaps most, to be gained through better performance by Mexico's farm laborers and small, independent farmers. These were the people who did almost all the work that brought in crops anywhere, at any time. Here was the level of industry at which to introduce superior methods, better seed, and the use of more and better fertilizers. If credit was still one of the scarcest of all necessary elements in Mexico's agriculture, then the need for it was, just as clearly, at a maximum among small farmers who simply did not have access to banks. So, this style of analysis aimed at direct aid to the laborer and to the small owners. Much attention went to agricultural education and to the need for agricultural extension services that could reach the small operator directly anywhere in the country. Some leaders of the Roman Catholic church were giving their support to this kind of "efficiency" analysis. They staged a series of annual meetings for the prime benefit of hacienda owners and other large agricultural operators. 1 Pay the worker a better wage, and you may persuade him not to go

New Analyses and Shifting Interpretations

37

to work in the United States. Teach him not to drink up his few centavos but to take his wages home so that his wife and children may have enough to eat. Give him decent housing and other amenities of life, and you may encourage him to work harder and raise farm production. So taught the priests and those agricultural experts they brought to their meetings with rich landowners. As the year 1910 approached, these conferences came to include many features of the full "efficiency" analysis: choice of crops, new and better farming methods, irrigation techniques, European mutual credit and savings plans, fertilizers, facts on drunkenness and sobriety, and many more. Closely parallel with these messages were those coming from agricultural bureaucrats in the Ministry of Development. Those experts had nothing to say against the "developmental" view. They would be glad to see any degree of improvement, no matter how it might be made. But the difference between the two approaches is clearly visible in the many dozens of publications issuing from the ministry before the onset of the Mexican Revolution. Quietly, these professional experts had given up whatever faith they might once have had in the willingness of massive private enterprises to spend large amounts of money to change the face of Mexican agriculture. Now the influence and efforts of these bureaucrats turned toward educating the farm laborers, toward training local boys to become "county agent" experts as was happening in the United States. Enough such youngsters trained in practical farming could then return to their own neighborhoods to raise the quality of the work there. The government's experts in the Ministry of Development also believed firmly in the benefits of spreading the best information among Mexico's farmers not only through county agents but by distributing their own publications, holding brief institutes that would meet in farm zones, and bringing farm owners to demonstration sites to see with their own eyes how production could best be achieved. To these experts it was important to determine which among several "dry-farming" techniques would be best in various regions of the country. As for agricultural credit, they seem to have assumed that the reluctance of bankers to have anything to do with small farmers would continue and, therefore, that other ways had to be found. These analysts often expected the government to encourage one or another variety of European mutual savings and loan associations, and they commonly recommended a U.S. kind of "homestead" provision, meaning exemption of a given portion of farm property from seizure for payment of debt. This efficiency analysis also differed from the developmental one as regarded agricultural colonization. Almost all writers dealt with this subject, if only because it had for so long been officially encouraged by Mexico's government and still figured as official policy. One suspects that agricul-

38

New A nalyses and Shifting

Interpretations

tural colonization remained in the minds of many of these analysts because, in a vague sort of way, it evoked the expectable and traditional activity of "opening" and settling new lands, those never before brought into cultivation. But those using the efficiency approach meant something specific by agricultural colonization—a recent variety that the government was thinking of introducing early in the twentieth century. Such new colonies were to be managed by the government itself, the advantage being that an experienced agronomist would supervise the whole operation. A few such colonies were being organized before the Revolution, and the government hoped for more, especially in dry lands in the northern part of the country. Here, it was hoped, the tenacity of hardworking farm families would combine with up-to-date, efficient methods; and the result should approximate the demonstration value to be had in a first-rate agricultural station. It was to this kind of colony that the agronomist Romulo Escobar was giving so many of his persuasive efforts on the eve of the Revolution. All this contrasted vividly with colonies as understood in the developmental analysis, where they usually signified isolated settlements of competent European immigrants, or of East Asian farm families, who would be installed on private land as but one element of a large rural enterprise. In the developmental analysis the large landowner was the one who would provide water for these immigrant farming families by obtaining a concession from the government and then, having built the facilities, selling water to the colonists to recover his irrigation expenses. In the efficiency analysis, by contrast, the government would furnish basic necessities such as irrigation facilities and water. Neither of these two kinds of proposals ventured far into the unknown as regards choice of crops for the national economy or for any of its regions. Taxation policies were almost overlooked. Little was said, also, about transportation, or about middleman facilities that might be needed to link agricultural production with export markets or with industrial buyers. The somewhat incomplete and unfinished look of both kinds of proposals is probably explainable by the fact that they were being offered as matters of urgency. Most of them came during the first years of the twentieth century, when Mexico's economy, and particularly its agriculture, were understood to be in urgent need of help. The prescriptions were therefore of the kind that proposed practical measures for obtaining speedy results. Different in viewpoint and varying in specifics, these two kinds of recommendations nonetheless shared so many essentials, and aimed so clearly at similar objectives, that they ran peacefully parallel to each other and created no sense of difference at the time. Neither one threatened important prospects for the other. Moreover, almost everyone in one camp used some main points drawn from the other. Frequently there was no clear sep-

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

39

aration between the two sets of prescriptions, even though today we may see them as distinctly different. As with the writings, so also with the people sustaining these differing viewpoints within the Ministry of Development: at this distance in time, it seems that no real conflict arose among those advocates. The agrarian section of the ministry, spearheading the efficiency analysis and therefore intent upon raising the quality of small-scale farming, also made strong representations in favor of big irrigation works almost certain to benefit large landowners rather than small dirt farmers. Likewise, those engineers in the Fifth Section of the ministry who led the developmental cause and who felt such an urgent need to have extensive irrigation projects for large clients were at one with their agrarian colleagues with regard to the desirability of putting more of Mexico's land into the hands of small, efficient operators. Even those who spoke for private entrepreneurship and large rural fortunes also advocated the multiplication of Mexico's small- and mediumsized farms, and they recommended doing everything possible to make the small operator into an efficient producer. Needless to say there was no conflict between these spokesmen for large private enterprises and the government's irrigation experts. Both groups were recommending that the government act as financier and builder of the great irrigation projects of the future. The closely parallel aims of both analyses are evident in one basic assumption they both made. Both foresaw a future in which Mexico's most sizable farming effort—the production of cereals for food—would inevitably move out of the hands of large hacienda owners and into the ranks of efficient middle-range or small operators. This expectation was becoming general among those who wrote about Mexican farming just before the Revolution. It was a basic assumption indeed, one that survived the coming years of tumult and war and the difficult times during the early twenties. When they thought about farming at all, this was the most durable of conventional wisdom in the minds of educated or propertied Mexicans. The reasons given for this expectation differed, of course, in the two styles of analysis just before 1910. Spokesmen for the efficiency view assumed that Mexico's hacendados had had hundreds of years to prove themselves and that they had failed as farm managers. One could not count upon these large owners to conduct efficient enterprises or to achieve high production per hectare of land. Most hacendados knew little and cared less about productivity or about farming at all. They had no success in attracting loans from any banker with his eyes open. So their efforts were necessarily futile, because almost all haciendas needed serious modernization that called for heavy advance borrowing. For those advocating efficiency, there were still other reasons for a lack

40

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

of confidence in the hacienda and its owner. Not only did such owners do badly with the well-known routines of farming but they would undoubtedly fail also when it came to using water to create new supplies of energy. The suspicion was that many hydroelectric power concessions being sought so actively after about 1900 were not seriously intended. Instead, these may have simply represented another variety of speculation—acquisition of water rights that would surely add value to a property even though the water was not put to any use in creating electricity. This suspicion was all the stronger because so many of those persons seeking hydroelectric concessions did not appear to have enough bank credit to get on with the enterprise once the concession was in hand.* To put this view of the hacendado as charitably as possible, it represented a conviction that most rich landowners did not know, and would not bother to find out, how to become enterprisers in any modern sense. They would never attract the new money needed for commercial agricultural development. Of course, there were many rich landowners, and many wellfunded and active enterprises both foreign and Mexican, who did move quickly and effectively into commercial agriculture and power generation on the eve of the Revolution. Still, the question common to almost all those surveying the agricultural scene and the industrial future was whether enough such efficient and energetic enterprisers could be found. What all this means is that the analysts themselves had taken an important step in the kind of observation they were making. Where once they had simply discussed production, increase of facilities, and expansion of operations, they now had an eye to productivity: How much product could one expect from stated inputs in time and other resources on how much land? The other observers, the developmentalists, usually assumed that hacendados would, as always, take advantage of the best economic opportunities they could find. Therefore the likelihood was strong that these largest owners would lease or sell their lands to small operators who, in their turn, would plant cereal crops. Many developmentalists expected this shift in ownership to follow the appearance of extensive irrigation facilities, of which so much was being said during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. With water on the land increasingly throughout Mexico, the message went, the prices of cereals would fall as production rose. The large landowners would then lose interest in handling such inexpensive products. They would more likely make their profit by leasing the land, or by selling it, or perhaps by the sale of water to nearby farmers. If they continued to farm for themselves, they would most likely raise higher-priced crops such as tree fruits. Here was a view of rising productivity explained in a different way from that seen in the efficiency analysis. Something like this shift of investment was occurring on haciendas close

New A nalyses and Shifting Interpretations

41

to Mexico City. There it proved profitable to raise the plants from which various kinds of hard liquor were made, and accordingly a good many of those haciendas no longer produced staple foods. Also, those who expected the hacienda to disappear slowly from the picture knew that some municipalities were already in the process of buying up nearby haciendas because of the water rights that would come with that land. The point about the two kinds of analysis is, then, that neither proclaimed any dogmatic prescription for the future of Mexico's agriculture. Neither was ever complete, and few examples of either kind were so specific as to threaten the recommendations offered in others. None of them set forth an iron list of priorities. All were written in the awareness that something must be done soon to improve farm production. Obviously, neither style of analysis was radical. Both represented merely those elements of importance that could be dealt with in the orbit of legal and administrative action as it then was. Common to both was the keen awareness of the need for quick and massive increases in agricultural, energy, and industrial production. What was needed was not merely stimulation and added efforts but also a "stabilization" of the whole economy. In that sense neither of these analyses was very different from the view President Diaz and his advisers had held for many years. Like them, these writers believed that for steady economic expansion there had to be a strong enough demonstration of growth to uphold confidence among investors, both foreigners and Mexicans. The new emphases in the writings appearing just before 1910 were the change of focus from mining to agriculture, the willingness to involve government much more than ever before, and a growing sense of how sectors and activities interrelated and thus called for more complex understanding and policymaking. A simple example of the new awareness to be seen just before the onset of revolution is that some began to recognize how very large an investment might be needed. They saw how scarce were the basic statistics now required both for investors and for reasonable policy making. Another sign of increasing awareness was the lack of enthusiasm about Mexico's agricultural future, an increasing number of writers frankly stating that the agricultural problem was complex, not to be dealt with easily or quickly. All the writings I have seen tried to answer the question of which steps should be taken to increase agricultural production with least delay. In approaching this question, however, none of the commentators produced anything ambitious enough to be called a master plan or a complete analysis. In none of the statements do we find such questions as these: Which crops should Mexico export? Which agricultural products will be needed in industrial production? Which industrial site locations are most clearly

42

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

indicated, considering such factors as markets, sources of raw materials, labor supply, transportation facilities, and availability of power? How can optimal production in one region serve to uphold or to stimulate economic activities nearby? Nobody seems to have been looking for information with such questions in mind. In this sense all the writings express simple preferences for the most desirable single step, or the best few steps, to take first in order to increase Mexico's agricultural product. As we will see, some of the published commentary on agriculture did reflect considerable knowledge and long practical experience. If the writer were that well informed, the chances were better than ever that his was one of that great number and variety of publications sponsored by the Ministry of Development and published either at its own press or in some periodical or newspaper. That vast output of expert and speculative literature — books, monographs, pamphlets, articles, and whole periodicals—is not thoroughly discussed here because those publications did not, in general, try to present any analysis of the agricultural problem as a whole. What that amazing flow of publications did aim to do was to shed light on any or all detailed aspects of the problem—scientific, organizational, or methodological. The swelling amount of this official and semiofficial literature shows clearly how much attention was going directly to the agricultural concerns of Mexico, with the intention of improving fanning and agricultural life in all respects as soon as possible. As for the two discernible paths of analysis followed by almost all writers, including those in the Ministry of Development, one, the developmental, called for very large simultaneous programs and ambitious measures. The assumption here was that great programs commencing all at once could soon remedy Mexico's poor agricultural situation. This school of thought had, until the very late nineteenth century, depended upon two magic remedies: the creation of agricultural colonies of foreign immigrants and the transfer of public and private lands into the hands of those who would bring forth large commercial ventures in agriculture. To keep track of what was happening, the plan was to list and describe in detail all privately owned land in the country in a master register at Mexico City. The government would thus have complete knowledge of the location, characteristics, and ownership of all the national territory—something like a complete catastral record. But confidence in all these measures had waned. In the newer developmental view, therefore, the colonization policy appeared only as a secondary means that would have to be accompanied by others. Meanwhile, the broadcast sale and granting of lands had been stopped in 1902. As concerns the master register, the Gran Registro de la Propiedad, it was still fragmentary and presumably of no help to those making policy. The latest developmental analysis invoked new magic, particularly the

New A nalyses and Shifting Interpretations

43

hope for irrigation of Mexico's arable lands. Another main point was extension of roads to furnish market networks for farmers from one end of the country to the other.' The rural environment had to be restored and repaired, especially by reforestation, which, it was assumed, would raise the amount of available water while reducing erosion. Some writers stressed the need to study and to experiment in all of Mexico's widely varying agricultural zones. Farmers, they asserted, had to have expert advice in all aspects of their work, from preparation and fertilization of the soil to choice of crops, avoidance of losses to pests, selection of the best varieties of plants, and preparation of produce for the market. 4 Sometimes these broadly stated developmental treatises were of surprising scope. One suggested these steps as a minimum program: make credit generally available; distribute latifundio lands into medium-sized holdings while encouraging large corporate and cooperative farm enterprises; irrigate the farmlands; bring many more people back to the land as farmers; and induce very large investments in agriculture and in industries.' A very strong difference of opinion developed in assumptions about methods for achieving certain changes. Most of these analysts assumed that one of the major steps had to be the division of large and unproductive landholdings into much smaller fragments to be put into the hands of vigorous small- and medium-scale farmers. But how this might be done was a question with many answers. One opinion had it that the government should not force large landholders to sell out. There was no need to do that because, in one view, increasing agricultural welfare would be reflected in lower cereal prices, and at that point the latifundista would turn to better uses for his capital; he would sell parts of his holding to smaller operators, sell water to farmers in the neighborhood, or use his lands or part of them for more remunerative crops. Thus these writers resisted the idea of taxing the hacendado out of agricultural production. They also doubted that development of irrigation facilities would force the sale of hacienda lands. And they resisted suggestions to have the government purchase and resell haciendas. Another explanation coming to the same conclusion —that if left to itself, the hacienda would likely disappear in the near future—asserted that this result had already been forecast by history. Large landholdings had tended to disappear as population rose and as cities appeared in the countryside. In this view, the government need do nothing at all, because good land nearer to the cities would soon be converted into more productive uses—probably as smaller farms, or as housing. Others felt, nonetheless, that reducing the size of Mexico's agricultural production units was an urgent matter calling for ambitious and speedy solution. In some formulas this appears as one of the first and most important items to be dealt with.

44

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

All these developmental statements rested upon the assumption that massive infrastructure expenditures would be undertaken soon, whether first in irrigation facilities, in roads, in agricultural research, education, and extension services, or in expansion of credit facilities. Funds would come through existing banks, or from many new banks yet to be created. The main differences among these forecasts had to do with the question of whether the government should take a leading part. This issue had to do with the government's financial role—and almost all these writers expected it to be large —and whether it would be government or private enterprise that would lay out policies and make major decisions. Some writers held to the traditional view that major changes of any kind come about because of underlying conditions that are immune to government action. Such conditions included the "nature" of Mexico's farm laborers, for instance, or the physical geography of the country, or changing demands made by foreign buyers of Mexican goods. From this viewpoint the government could do no more than to provide an atmosphere of confidence and some useful incentives. It might seem, therefore, that some of the developmental thinkers would give a minor role to government in the effort to raise agricultural production. At first blush it may indeed appear that such views imply limits to public action, in effect warning government off. And from one writer to another the roles given the government do vary widely in specifics. But closer examination reveals that the government's role was to loom large in all these developmental analyses. None of them tried to do without the pervasive and omnipresent public activity or power. Indeed, it appears that these writers expected even more from the government than it had ever before accomplished. Some seem to have felt that the public purse was bottomless and that Mexico's rather small bureaucracy could perform tasks of enormous size. So it was with the statement made by Oscar Braniff, a member of one of Mexico's foremost families of modernizing entrepreneurs, himself not merely an investor but the operator of a hacienda he had converted into a very up-to-date enterprise in commercial agriculture. Braniffs analysis is indeed a sophisticated defense of private enterprise on the part of Mexico's forward-looking farm owners. But before he had done with his various recommendations, Braniff had called upon the federal government to regulate the use of water from Mexico's rivers, to sponsor and carry through the distribution of idle hacienda lands to smaller owners (through a program of installment purchase), and to offer strong incentives to encourage raising temperate-zone crops that were scarce in Mexico. He also looked to the central government to carry out reforestation, to store water in large dams built at public expense, and to spread agricultural extension services into all areas of the republic. What was

New Analyses and Shifting Interpretations

45

more, Braniff would eventually have had the government acting as concessionaire for all water used in farming. Furthermore, he expected the government to institute and supervise the needed credit facilities for all farmers, great and small. Beyond all that, Braniff also recommended that the government take up the weapon of taxation by assessing each parcel of land in light of the use it should optimally have. This Braniff felt was absolutely necessary to discourage the holding of arable lands for speculative purposes. Finally, Braniff wished the government to act directly in improving the quality of life of poor farm families. He did hope, it is true, that private sources might be found to help with any or all of the many efforts he had consigned to the government. But it is obvious enough that Braniffs was the kind of analysis that assumed most of the expense and most of the effort would have to be undertaken by public authorities. Likewise, in this sort of analysis the assumption is that all efforts must begin at once and need to be followed through strongly.6 Not all developmental views were so ambitious, nor did all of them prescribe so many efforts that would take long years to launch and to carry out. But all such analyses did call for a strikingly broad expansion of the government's activities, scope of action, and power. Andrés Molina Enriquez, an experienced bureaucrat who had worked in responsible positions both for the federal government and in the state of Mexico, announced his recommendations with the frank statement that all manner of efforts would be needed—on the part of private entrepreneurs as well as state and federal governments—and that thus called for a national campaign over half a century to come. He emphasized that a much more favorable framework of law had to be established if any great improvement was to be expected in Mexico's farm production. His formula, like that of José Covarrubias, called for a vast increase in irrigation facilities and in roads. But he also declared that the whole problem was "very complex, and requires studies, works, and dispositions of various kinds, of complicated sorts and of the widest varieties: and it would be desirable that to give a single direction to all those [efforts], a special Cabinet Secretary preside over them." Molina Enriquez emphasized the grand scale of effort that had to be undertaken by labeling the irrigation and road programs as only "partial." That is, these were but a pair of huge endeavors among many more that would prove to be necessary once the whole panorama of problems had been thoroughly studied. 7 Clearly, he was predicting immense expense on the part of the central government, because all of the studies and some of the projects themselves could only be entrusted to government. Roberto Gayol, a practicing engineer and a person of repute and influence, gave another and most interesting variant of the developmental

46

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

thesis. He began with the basic fact that the lands easiest to farm, with least expense, were already under crops and were therefore commanding high prices per hectare. To extend agriculture into other of Mexico's lands would be notably expensive to accomplish, he thought. Not only would a national irrigation program as well as good local roads and other means of communication be necessary, but somehow thereafter the crucial issue of how to assure that farmers taking up newly opened lands could survive for the first few years had to be addressed. This was not a simple matter of helping the farmer along until his first crop but of offering assistance during the first few years, which, Gayol felt, often proved to be both difficult and unproductive for the small farmer. Looking at this one problem closely, Gayol emphasized that it contained more than mere agricultural or climatic puzzles. There were such other aspects as harassment of small fanners by local caciques and other oppressors. Without the reality of democracy and fair treatment in his daily life, how could the small farmer be expected to stay on the land long enough to find out how to work it well?8 Similar to Braniffs and Molina Enriquez's analyses, both of which called for aid to small as well as large farmers, was the prescription offered by Francisco I. Madero, a member of one of Mexico's richest landowning families, which had many industrial interests and which was involved in processing plants, banking, and other activities centered in the Laguna District in Coahuila State. Francisco Madero's personal part of the family enterprises included cotton cultivation and thus the water-supply problems that were so unavoidable in the Comarca Lagunera. And his personal interests included the welfare of workers and their families. He saw with equal clarity the difficulties facing both large enterprises and small subsistence farming. He urged the government to aim its activities and encouragement toward production of the staple crops—wheat, corn, cotton, and beans—for both subsistence food and industrial purposes, doing whatever it could to avoid importing those commodities. Madero wanted land to be put into the hands of the embattled Yaqui Indians and other poor farmers, cattle ranchers in need, and poor fisherfolk. He suggested that industrial workers without employment in cities like Puebla and Orizaba be taken into agricultural colonies, with the aid of government programs. While he seemed to espouse the government's continued encouragement of some agricultural industrialists, he also wanted it to undertake grand programs to directly benefit Mexico's landless farm and other rural laborers. Moreover, he felt that the farmers working their own small- and medium-sized properties should be the ones to receive concessions of water from the rivers. Beyond all these items, Madero expected the government to carry out

New A nalyses and Shifting Interpretations

47

large-scale river works, such as the high-storage dam on the Rio Nazas which Madero himself was so busy in urging upon both private property owners and the central government. Of course, such large projects would directly benefit the many and diversified Madero family interests in and beyond the Laguna District. And, obviously, Madero's whole analysis of agrarian needs may have been pointed with particular directness at the central government because Madero himself was then running for the presidency and was indicting the insufficiency of President Porfirio Diaz's programs. Still, there is no reason to believe that Madero's vast expectations for government action were insincere, motivated by political ambition, or intended to feather his own financial nest. Like so many others, he simply assumed first of all that the government could and would be active on a scale never before seen. And, like the hacendado Oscar Braniff, who managed one of the most modern of large farming enterprises in Mexico, Madero conjured up from that basic assumption about government activity a vast program of ambitious steps that could be taken, he hoped, very soon. Foreign observers who visited Mexico just before the coming of the Revolution seemed to arrive at similar views. Stanley Morse, for instance, of the U.S. Department of Agriculture and Harvard University made a six-week tour of Mexico sponsored by the National Railways administration, which wanted him to visit large haciendas. He left a prescription for agricultural improvement that was studded with specific small improvements to be made, but he also assumed an immense national structure of education for Mexico's farmers and farm laborers. Mexico's agricultural future depended, he asserted, upon educating people to a whole new set of methods and procedures in stock raising, irrigation, plowing and preparation of the soil, and fertilizing. Better livestock had to be brought into the country and better seed specially developed for Mexican conditions. Whole haciendas could then be given over to production of the better seed varieties. Furthermore, close inspection of farming at all stages would be needed for best results. Morse also advocated cooperation among hacienda owners and prescribed the use of much more farm machinery and the paying of substantially higher daily wages to laborers on the haciendas. He understood, naturally, that to make all the necessary changes and improvements would call for a considerably heavier investment by hacienda owners.9 As Morse's view was based on North American experience, those of Louis Lejeune, Otto Peust, and Raoul Bigot—all of whom were struck by the many needs in Mexican agriculture—derived from western Europe. These three writers prescribed large government efforts such as had recently been undertaken in western European nations as well as in the United States. 10 Peust was particularly intent on those programs that would free Mexico from dependence upon imported food supplies. Only with

48

New A nalyses and Shifting

Interpretations

greatly expanded cereal production, he maintained, and with higher tariff walls protecting the steady growth of such production, could Mexico ever be safe from political domination by the United States or from the smothering effects of intervals of low cereal prices on the world market. Peust prescribed huge amounts of foreign investment coupled with a nationwide, government-managed credit system to obtain the tremendous flows of capital that were urgently needed. He was aware, too, that credit availability was needed at all levels, from the larger haciendas to the smallest family farm. Peust also recommended a notable increase in communications facilities. In addition, he expected the government to impose a policy of subdividing large landholdings and to carry out in ten years a redistribution that could bring small farms into the pattern of land tenure in every part of Mexico. He further believed that irrigation had to be installed in all the farming zones, with private owners first exploiting springs and wells and the government then financing and building large storage dams and other expensive works along and near the rivers. His solutions for Mexico's agricultural predicament thus came in two stages. First, there would have to be a vast infusion of foreign money, with the government helping by channeling these funds into private irrigation and colonization projects! Second, and to have much later effect, the government would build more communications facilities, and the dams and channels needed to maximize agricultural production, in the dry lands watered only once or twice a year by the flow of torrential rivers. Peust also aimed, however, to achieve some additional production quickly. This he would do by adding irrigation without delay, within a year or two at most, in those farm zones capable of expanding production most rapidly—that is to say, in some parts of central Mexico. Only later would come the much larger increases in production that were possible in the dry lands. They, after all, often needed many more infrastructure expenditures of all kinds in advance of any significant production. Such long-range programs could only be paid for by the government. This set of recommendations by Otto Peust was just the kind of developmental analysis toward which the federal government was bending its policies by 1910-1911, at the very end of the Diaz regime. As will be seen, the way was being cleared, legally and administratively, in a number of new policies for the large programs and heavy governmental expense advocated in all the developmental prescriptions for Mexican agriculture. Thus the president's very last message to the congress pointed to these measures as the answer to the agricultural problem: irrigate the lands; open local roads; spread agricultural credit broadly throughout the country; and establish centers of agricultural consultation, instruction, and propa-

New Analyses and Shifting Interpretations

49

ganda. How all these elaborate measures could be taken in time to mend the current situation, or where the many millions of pesos and thousands of skilled persons that would be required could be found, was never made clear. The developmental analysts were never of a mind to do emergency planning. They saw the Mexican economic miracle flowing majestically out of the recent past into the present and on into the future, building great structures on a scale they knew was needed for Mexico's near and distant future life. As for the efficiency analysis, its proponents drew attention to current methods of farming instead of starting out by mentioning huge foreign investment or vast national programs calling for great expense. They stressed problems such as the worker's typical lack of sophisticated knowledge and pointed to the unnecessarily high cost and unavailability of tools, machines, fertilizers, and good qualities of seed. Such factors as erosion and loss of fertility in the soil loomed large with them. This approach, then, begins with the typical farm environment and seeks to identify all the important problems to be seen there: those that hampered high production from year to year, that were beyond the reach of the typical ranchero or Indian community, and that might bring terminal discouragement to any small tiller of the soil.11 Some of the variations on this "small steps now" analysis were contributed by agronomists in the federal service or in private practice. Others came from state governors aware of grinding local problems and from agricultural societies made up of hacienda owners. This sort of view was common in the periodical press, where it was frequent to see an article discussing some one possible improvement in farming. No clearer expression could be found for this down-to-earth viewpoint than in the many statements by the agronomist Francisco Loria. Late in 1910 he repeated the burden of his message, clearly indicating those practical measures he thought could meet the current agricultural crisis. But before making his own recommendations, Loria made plain his support of the developmental viewpoint and his belief that it could apply to Mexico at some future time, in another generation yet to come. After all, said Loria, the need for irrigation all across the country was obvious indeed, and the developmental writers properly stressed the importance of getting on with irrigation programs. He also endorsed the developmental stress on agricultural colonization, on production of useful crops, and on increasing the worker's wage. All these things, said Loria, should be common and prominent in Mexico's future—but none could be of help in the current crisis then holding the people in its grip. For the needful present, to turn aside and plan for irrigation facilities would be to waste time and substance. Concentrating on such programs,

50

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

which could take many years to complete, constituted merely another case of what Loria called a "prejudicial illusion." The true need was to increase Mexico's farm product at once. To equip Mexico perfectly for the longer future was indeed a task for Mexicans who would come later, years after 1910, when the "many years" and "many millions of pesos" could well be spent on elaborate projects. Nor did Mexico need agricultural colonization for the time being, and it could not afford such facilities, in any case. As for which crops to plant, Loria was firm in the belief that for the time being Mexico must emphasize the traditional few: corn, wheat, potatoes, beans, "and others indispensable to life." In the far future, with irrigation, a time would come to discuss which crops to add to the usual store; but not now, not yet. As for higher wages for workers, Loria felt that this was always an economic matter that could not be allowed to weigh down the use of capital in the countryside. 11 Loria's own prescription for quick results in production consisted of but two items: better fertilization of the soil, and more local communications to make it easier for farmers to market their crops. He thus aligned himself with those developmental analysts who pleaded that attention should first be given to the central Mexican cereals zone, the Meseta Central and parts of the west, where most of Mexico's food was grown. Improvement in yield in that area, they asserted, where labor was already plentiful, where some local communications already existed, and where water was more readily available than in the drier lands to the north, could be quickest and least expensive. Other analysts, however, felt that subdivision of large holdings could quickly lead to higher production. The usual assumption behind this viewpoint was that Mexico's agriculture was so rigid and so inactive because rich hacendados kept the land idle. The need was to put the land into the hands of the millions of Indians and mestizos, to allow their vast energies to burst forth in a freedom never permitted since the Spanish conquest. 1 ' Only in such freedom would the country's empty spaces ever know the fierce activity of small farmers now liberated from the shackles of Church and hacendado control. Still others, equally concerned with the so-called lack of hands (falta de brazos) in the countryside which was so often mentioned as a chief difficulty in increasing or even sustaining agricultural production, recommended raising the worker's wage. Here was the way to keep the best laborers from going to the United States and to bring former farmers back from the cities. Some others, however, felt that the problem was not so much in low wages as in the low morale and poor performance of farm workers. The varied prescriptions for changing this depressed state of poor country people were almost all supposedly suitable for immediate implementation

New A nalyses and Shifting Interpretations

51

and in most cases promised early benefits for landowners. The Roman Catholic church, for example, in the congresses it staged in order to influence wealthy landowners, had its own recommendations for alleviating the poor state of farm families. Better food, better housing, campaigns against excessive drinking, more education on the job, and higher wages—these were some of the Church's recommendations. The priests especially stressed the benefits of paying higher wages for better work. Those who focused on the life of the land itself rather than upon the welfare of those who tilled it were able to recommend simple and reasonably inexpensive measures to obtain greater production. These improvements could be useful on lands new to cultivation as well as on those long in use. Fertilizing with products readily available in Mexico (so as to avoid both expensive importation and price speculation) was a leading solution mentioned by many analysts besides Francisco Loria, to whom it was almost the most crucial step to be taken. Still others pointed to a bright future in dry farming, several varieties of which were being tried out in Mexico on the basis of recent experience in the United States. In a version of this analysis which remained most unclear, the answer to the farm problem was said to be most available through cooperation among landowners, especially the wealthy hacendados. Sometimes, though, there seemed to be a feeling that hacendados could somehow associate themselves with their own laborers. Further, there was also the implication that if they had disposed of their land or parts of it already, they could associate with former laborers who had now become small landowners and yet still work with those people who, it was assumed, would continue to be dependent upon the hacendado. Finally, a very few writers mentioned tax policy as a possible accelerating force in agricultural production. Some thought it best to make things easier for the large landowners, who could bring forth most of the marketable product. Others recommended taxing the land in view of its best possible use so as to force owners either to farm efficiently or to sell their land to more effective producers. 14 All of the above analyses probably added very little to what had long been believed and prescribed for Mexican agriculture. None of the writings discussed here went so far as to offer a master plan for immediate action. None named measures to be enacted in some definite order of priority so as to obtain both short-run relief and long-range improvement. Indeed, only two of the writers went so deeply into the matter as to prescribe different policy measures for such vastly different agricultural zones sts the old Aztec and Tarascan highland on the one hand and the Pacific slope on the other. Nor did any of the writers I have mentioned give any attention to the Gulf lowlands, with their serious problems of overflowing

52

New Analyses and, Shifting

Interpretations

and soaking of lands. In this sense of recognizing the many and widely different environments of Mexican farming, a still more evocative picture had been presented by many another writer in earlier years—for instance, the brief and wandering but realistic sketch given by Félix Riquelme in 1893.16 In fact, there was no one dominant view toward rapid and effective agricultural or agrarian reform in those writings of the early twentieth century. This should be no surprise, for during those years Mexico's fiscal situation deteriorated, investment in several sectors of the economy faltered, and the nation suffered from some exceedingly poor crop years. In this frustrating situation the government had found no policies capable of creating a feeling of recovery or forward momentum in agriculture. And at a time when many people in and out of government were looking for hopeful signs as well as for telltale indications of problems to solve, the available statistics were too thin and too suspect to give help to those who might have put facts to good use. It is understandable, therefore, that viewpoints and preferences might well vary not only with one's own inclinations and regional viewpoint but also with prevailing conditions—good, bad, mediocre, disastrous—in the particular region of the country one knew best. A good illustration of this variety, for instance, is provided by contrasting the views of a magnate, Enrique Creel, during his years as governor of Chihuahua with those expressed by successive governors of a poor state, Campeche. Creel set forth the optimistic and forward view of a rich man of affairs who knew how much new investment was crowding into his state. The Campeche governors, however, spoke with quiet desperation of the continuing deficiencies and problems they faced. Their analysis pointed to the lack of good farm labor, low prices for crops, routine and outdated methods in farming, and a pitiful lack of infrastructure such as roads, irrigation facilities, or agricultural extension services. With laborers who lacked even a primary education, whose wages were depressingly low, and who lived in miserable conditions on land that was struck by plagues of locusts and by drought, the Campeche governors could do little but appeal for federal aid in obtaining investment, irrigation, schools, and a better and more sizable labor supply from beyond the state's borders. In 1905 and 1906 Governor Tomás Aznar y Cano obtained an agreement with the Ministry of Development for a mission to plan the best use of available water in the state, which though urgently needed for drinking was vital for farming as well. But the mission did not arrive before the onset of the Revolution. By 1910, therefore, Dr. Aznar was resorting to other measures, such as encouraging the federal government to establish a network of meteorologic stations in Campeche. An agricultural experiment station was also in prospect, with the necessary land having been donated

New A nalyses and Shifting Interpretations

53

and a preliminary inspection already made by an engineer from the ministry. But the whole picture was still dismal, with serious crop losses in 1910, poor prices, and too little credit for use by landowners. There seemed to be little hope of expansion or of a betterment of conditions. 16 One thing comes through very clearly in these pre-Revolutionary views. Assessment of the economic dilemma had changed, and this was leading to new objectives which, in turn, would affect possibilities for development. First, it was obvious that Mexico's people were in misery and want, so much so as to suggest that the nation did not yet have the lively, ample, stable work force needed for a future of modern industrialization. Second, it was too clear that advances in mining and railroading had not had the desired effect of giving Mexico's population the buying power to establish a burgeoning domestic market, which in turn might have constantly stimulated the creation of new industries. Likewise, if Mexico could not produce enough food or fiber from year to year, it would continue to spend most of its foreign exchange to make up the deficiency in each year's food and other needed materials. Mexico would then remain dependent upon the United States. Moreover, agriculture might never grow to the necessary level of activity or of production as long as Mexico had to leave its borders open to massive imports of raw materials; in such direct price competition with the most efficient producers elsewhere in the world, there was no reason to believe that Mexico could build up enough agricultural production within the country. The other note that sounds clearly in all the analyses is an eagerness to see the federal government move strongly against agricultural weakness. While a number of the writers would have limited government action in some respect, or might have deplored it in general, their own recommendations clearly called for government initiative, leadership, and intervention on a scale never before seen. The agricultural impasse had to be ended as soon as possible, and these analysts could imagine no pattern of policies that would exclude the central government from a leading, or even dominant, role. Turning away from the traditionally favored activities in the economy—mining, railroads, land speculation—they looked with an almost feverish hope for expansion and development of agriculture. If the question thus was, Which policy must Mexico follow to awaken its agricultural production? the answer most commonly given was, Irrigate the land. During the years just before the Revolution, public discussion of the agricultural crisis and of policies to solve it most often turned on each writer's preference regarding irrigation of farmland: whether this was the most urgent item of policy; whether other steps must precede or accompany; what results could or could not be expected from irrigation on a national scale; whether the government should or should not play a leading role;

54

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

and what the shape of the policy itself should be. Beginning in 1905 the discussion became more complex because of the writers' awareness of new studies and policies being initiated by the central government. The literature expanded greatly, and it is no doubt only partially represented in the review to be presented here. By the time the Diaz regime had ended, thus, a number of complex and persuasive views had been set forth by persons well equipped to know whereof they spoke, some of whom were personally influential in the making of policies at the time. Their sense of urgency reminds us that this question—what irrigation could do to solve the agricultural crisis—would carry forward into the years of the Revolution and beyond as one of the continuing debates always raised but never settled within Mexican politics and government. In the early years of the century writers frequently mentioned agricultural irrigation as an urgent need that was quite beyond controversy or argument. Often they implied, or declared outright, that irrigation alone could solve the problem of Mexico's lagging farm production: "The agricultural potential of the country will not attain the expansion it should have without irrigation." 17 Watering the farmlands, some claimed, would have the effect of pumping life into commerce, railroads, exportation, employment, and the quality of life of a growing population. And another writer asserted that "Without doubt one of the most urgent and necessary things in this Republic is more works of irrigation," 1 * which would greatly stimulate agriculture and bring fertility to many barren regions of Mexico. To one journalist, the impending "miracles of irrigation" would simply banish insecurity from rural life. To bring about such miracles was the "only chief problem remaining for us to solve." 1 ' Although much new information and several serious analyses appeared during those years, some observers still continued to view the whole problem in its simplest sense, maintaining that irrigation would take care of the current crisis and of the more distant future as well.*0 As stated by one writer in 1910, "The most important factor in public wealth is agriculture and the principal branch of agriculture is irrigation."* 1 Some argued that irrigation had to come first but that it had to be accompanied by other measures. Very noticeable in this sense was José Covarrubias's view that the first program must consist both of irrigation and of improvement of local communications. Covarrubias used this formula in arguing against any further colonization projects in unimproved lands, insisting that without a substantial increase in irrigation, and without putting in local road systems, Mexico could not hope to have a class of vigorous small farmers. Newspaper writers and others used Covarrubias's formula frequently, along with his master dictum that the government could not directly create the small-farming class by redistributing land into

New Analyses and Shifting Interpretations

55

the hands of poor people. He stoutly maintained that shifts in the sizes of farm parcels would come only in response to certain farming and marketing conditions in each locality. Major changes in the countryside, he thought, would depend mainly upon strong infrastructure programs. This, he maintained, was the government's proper work, rather than any legislated adjustment in the size of farm units.12 Others recommended that irrigation be undertaken along with a variety of measures such as lower customs duties—to encourage importation of fertilizers and machinery"—reforestation, agricultural education, or whatever item the writer might particularly favor. Thus a recommendation for a strong irrigation policy was most likely to accompany prescriptions that otherwise differed very widely. Any writer was apt to endorse irrigation, whether he placed his main reliance in creation of a class of small fanners or in encouragement of large agricultural corporations, and whether he favored stronger or weaker participation by government.*4 Indeed, in stating their preferences, a great many made clear that they felt that prosperity in the countryside could be hoped for only if irrigation were allowed to play a very prominent part.*5 A most impressive addition to this argument was made by Ing. Roberto Gayol after his return from a government-sponsored trip to inspect irrigation and colonization enterprises in East Asia, the Middle East, and Europe. His conclusions emphasized, as a first requisite for successful immigrant colonization, the preparation of prospective farmlands for irrigation. 26 His arguments were widely respected, coming as they did from one of Mexico'? most outstanding consulting engineers, who also acted as a professor and who held the strong respect of government leaders. This point as to the need for irrigated land to attract colonists ran parallel to another, which stressed that only irrigation on a vastly increased scale would ever induce the sale of hacienda lands to small- and medium-scale farm operators. The assumption was that with more irrigation available, the production of cereals would so increase as to depress their price, thus persuading the great landowners to dispose of their farmlands and turn to more profitable pursuits. Some felt that this predicted series of developments was by no means theoretical but had already begun to occur. Large fortunes in Mexico's countryside, in fact, were being either bent to production of higher-priced crops or invested in industrial and power-generation schemes. Other landowners, too, were simply holding their properties in expectation of speculative gain, looking to eventual subdivision of their lands at high prices. Observers pointed to many haciendas as well where cereals were no longer the crops, partly because the land had eroded so badly or because the owners used outdated and unproductive methods and had become discouraged. As the years passed, it became almost a common-

56

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

place assumption, then, that a national irrigation program would have as one of its earliest side effects the departure of large haciendas from the panorama of cereals production. Understandably, therefore, those whose faith lay with small farmers, or who thought the work of the future would be done by owners of medium-sized properties, looked to irrigation as a most important first step." Up to the end of Porfirio Diaz's rule there was increasing concern for the welfare of small farmers. This viewpoint was sharpened as it became more and more obvious that the government's policies aimed at the welfare of large entrepreneurs rather than of persons less wealthy and influential. 18 Those who doubted the wisdom of concentrating official favor exclusively upon rich landowners included both government agronomists and others intent upon maximizing farm production. A number of local administrators, for example, as well as private individuals with personal experience of farming rallied to this same view. So did political opponents of the regime, who resisted every sign of government policies favoring rich people. Of course, not all of these people were in total agreement. Some were most concerned with ill effects on the land itself, others with the government's blindness in the face of the degrading life of poor country people, while still others thought most of all of the national economy and its need for agricultural strength. It is interesting to notice that the cause of the small farmer was being urged from so many different quarters for such a wide variety of reasons, and that action in that regard was undertaken by the regime only at the very last moment. Meantime, a much more widespread concern had arisen over the question of whether the government should plan and pay for irrigation facilities or whether there should be a sharing of the cost between public and private enterprise. No voices seem to have been raised in favor of leaving the whole matter to private persons and corporations. The controversy turned instead on particular combinations of effort, each writer stating his preference for the active parties, which might include the federal government, state governments, and private enterprisers. The different parties were to be awarded various responsibilities, all of which would need to be carried through in order to achieve a national irrigation program. Thus, for example, some commentators expected the federal government to do all preliminary studies at its own expense, with private interests constructing those facilities that would serve their own properties. Analysts differed also on how expenses were to be recovered, a common conclusion being that the government could be reimbursed for works that benefited private owners, while private owners might hope to recover some of their engineering expense by selling water to people nearby. A very few of the more complex proposals set forth the idea of complete government supervision of water management within a drainage basin.

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

57

The thought was that the government, having made water available to all owners in the basin, would then exchange water rights for portions of the private owners' land. Those parcels of land could then be sold to small- and medium-scale farmers, so that all expenditures by public authorities would be recovered and the productive capacity of the lands in the basin would likely be increased. Years later this approach actually did become the major policy of the federal government in managing the official irrigation districts that exist today. In general, the proposals for irrigation policy were sophisticated and realistic in several respects. From the beginning they faced the fact that expenditures would be sizable and would have to continue over many years. They showed an awareness of the need for intricate studies in many parts of the country to determine the first and the largest projects to be undertaken. They were sensitive as well to the administrative and political implications of trying to set massive new operations into the old framework of Mexico's society and politics. In these analyses, for instance, one finds the occasional suggestion of a need for a ministry of agriculture. Likewise, questions of subsidy and incentive were carefully discussed, with an awareness of the difficulty for public authority of effectively encouraging private investment in innovative projects. Would a simple tax incentive be enough, such as, for instance, a ten-year guarantee against tax increases? Should cash payments be offered rather than the inducement of free land, which had not proved so successful? Would it be effective to offer foreign investors several of the usual incentives, such as a ten-year holiday from both tax payments and any customs duties that ordinarily affected operations in commercial agriculture? Such questions did not reflect deep differences among the analysts, who concurred on many basic assumptions as well as specifics. All felt that agriculture was in crisis in Mexico and had to be dealt with quickly and strongly. They agreed that the best efforts in both private and public sectors would be needed, with private interests and public authorities working closely together. And these analysts seemed also to assume that Mexico's society, economy, and government could accommodate massive efforts with little if any basic change in structure or organization.' 0 So what most closely united all these statements of policy preferences were two of the deepest of Liberal assumptions—that all sectors of society could somehow be accommodated, and that each would wish to take its proper part in the overridingly important common efforts needed by the nation. "National agriculture must undertake and must solve this problem of irrigation and channeling [of rivers] —by the initiative and combined effort of public authorities, hacendados, scientific agronomic corporations and private entrepreneurs—for [us] to live and to prosper."®1 To illustrate the extremes of difference that did exist among analysts,

58

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

there was a "most conservative" view and at least one other that was innovative and antitraditional in several respects. The "most conservative" was Angel M. Dominguez's study, "Approvechamientos de las corrientes fluviales para la agricultura," presented before the Sociedad Mexicana de Geografía e Estadística. 11 Domínguez carefully considered three current proposals: Andres Molina Enríquez's, to allow landowners to issue bonds with government guarantee so as to finance irrigation; Manuel G. de Quevedo's, to have state governments build irrigation works and then sell them to landowners; and Enrique C. Creel's, to let government subsidize irrigation works as it had done for railroads. Domínguez then explained why he preferred Creel's idea, on the premise that the most government should do was to encourage and stimulate private efforts. The "innovative" proposal came from Roberto Gayol, the very well-todo consulting engineer. He expected the federal government to do all the necessary work, from preliminary surveys through construction and joint management of the finished structures. The government would also manage any colonization projects that might be involved. Gayol thought landowners should pay the government for water they received from the completed works, paying in land, which the government could then devote to agricultural colonies.®1 Here in embryo is the main idea Mexico's federal government used in 1926, when it initiated the national program to trade government-impounded water for privately owned and underused land in order to achieve a mixture of large and medium-sized efficient agricultural production units. Gayol's was by no means a lone view. Andrés Molina Enriquez and others were in general agreement, save that they still clung to the belief that federal and state government jurisdictions had to be kept separate from each other. Thus they felt that local projects ought to be left in the hands of state governments, the idea being that local control would lead to better results.S4 Still, this variance of view was reconcilable, and it left all the "innovative" analysts in essentially the same camp. What distinguished all of them from the group of more conservatively minded traditionalists was their frank belief that the profit motive could not be relied upon as a guide to sound national development. The same sort of division of opinions appeared wherever rural credit was discussed. On the surface there was agreement to the effect that existing banking operations simply did not, nor would they ever, deal with Mexico's needs for agricultural expansion. Beyond that, commentators differed on such issues as whether credit from private banks could be made sufficiently available simply by government encouragement, or even insistence, or whether a whole new network of banks had to be created. Likewise, there were variant views as to whether it would be best to establish mutual savings and loan institutions for strictly agricultural purposes. A concern

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

59

repeatedly expressed was for the small borrower who was being held to short-term loans of two to three years' duration at most. There was also the voice of the large landowner who felt he could not obtain enough money, at long enough term, and who wanted to see mutual loaning agencies established among wealthy owners.' 5 Agronomists and other engineers, and some lawyers, tended to stress the need for careful or even exhaustive prior study of Mexico's water resources before any large-scale irrigation project was attempted. And some of these experts preferred, of course, to make the most of local resources—soil, fertilizer, farming methods—before massive budget allocations were put into any extensive engineering projects.' 6 Before turning to the most complex and sophisticated analyses, however, we should recognize that many observers did not consider irrigation as the first or most urgent step in increasing agricultural production. There were varieties of opinion all along the political spectrum as well as among legalists and agronomists, all strongly arguing urgent priority considerations that should precede any major effort in irrigation. Nonetheless, all seemed to recognize the need to make vast increases in irrigation sooner or later. Some argued that economic incentives had to be offered much more liberally than ever before for progress to occur in agriculture. For example, it was established practice to offer industrialists the privilege of legally condemning private property as a means of obtaining the lands and waters they wished to have for their new enterprises. But many farm owners were said to be discouraged at this prospect, fearing the loss of valuable parts of their own productive properties at any moment through condemnation by some other enterpriser. Such owners, it was argued, were less likely to improve their own agricultural properties. Likewise, some asserted, it was important that Mexico's streams remain in state jurisdiction so that smaller irrigation works would be encouraged all over the country, leaving the federal authorities to control only the greater irrigation projects in a few localities. There were two considerations in most people's minds in making these recommendations to keep federal and state jurisdictions clearly separate. First, the Law of June 5, 1888 had inclined the situation toward federal control. Second, in the early twentieth century negotiations were afoot within the central government to give federal authorities still more power over all aspects of river water exploitation. Still, even in this sort of atmosphere, it is not altogether clear why such emphasis was being laid by some writers upon a clear division between federal and state authority. One reason given, though, as usual, was that the private owner would be able to obtain firm decisions more quickly and more knowledgeably from local authorities.' 7 A number of observers felt that a prior choice had to be made either to

60

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

strengthen the large landowners' desire to produce or to take the land out of their hands, leaving only the more active operators in the field. One view favored legislating tax disincentives for owners who allowed land to stand idle." Another recommended that a new government bank be established to arrange long-term financing for those who wished to buy fractions of former haciendas." Finally, one analyst spoke directly to the conventional priority assumptions then being made in legal and political circles as to water allocation. In the accepted view of that day, irrigation for agricultural purposes ranked low among all water uses. And Andrés Molina Enriquez felt that this should continue to be the preference ranking, no matter how urgent the agricultural crisis through which Mexico was passing. That is, in Molina Enriquez's opinion, such growing imperatives as the use of water in homes and in power generation should continue to be given higher priority.40 Among observers who saw other measures as more important, and of greater priority than any national irrigation program, there were distinctly different general outlooks. On the one hand were those traditionalists who espoused the nineteenth-century conviction that nothing of importance could be expected from Mexico's poor farmers or laborers—at least, not until those people had been taught or had somehow been led into a better way of life, one that was more moral, healthy, vigorous, and laborious. 41 On the other hand were those who felt that Mexican farm workers' lives were without dignity, without a decent living wage or any hope for a better life, and who advocated government intervention to increase wages and to ensure that other necessities reached the workers. Without these things, they asserted, good performance could never be expected from the rural labor force, whereas these workers would perform superbly if given the opportunity to live a decent and rewarding kind of life. 41 Before 1910 it had become clear that in discussing the economic and social problems of rural life, the landowners' associations tended to stress such remedies as irrigation and government subsidies to farmers. 4 * By contrast, radicals and some liberals, including many of the federal government's professional experts, stressed the need for direct government aid to improve the degrading existence of farm laborers and their families. Lying between these extreme views were a few complex sets of recommendations made by persons of long experience in planning and constructing public works, in neighborhood agriculture, in agribusiness administration, or in agricultural education. The common element in their varied experiences lay in the fact that all of them had spent a great deal of time in Mexico's farming zones, where the economic problems of agriculture and the demeaning qualities of rural poverty were to be seen on every hand.

New Analyses and Shifting

Interpretations

61

Nonetheless, the recommendations of these "complex" analyses did not run closely parallel. It is here where we find so poignantly displayed the difficulties being faced by the government as well as by farmers just before 1910, and it is to these more complex analyses that we now turn our attention.

3 The Complex Analyses

One of the earliest of these more important analyses was done by the engineer Roberto Gayol, who had had long experience in planning and carrying through large projects sponsored either by public authority or by private investors. His memorandums written for the government's information in 1905 and 1906 reflected not only his own experience but all that he had learned recently in foreign travel and in his close attention to developments in the United States. His perspective was most impressive of all in its persuasive demonstration of the urgency of Mexico's problems and in showing how narrow a range of alternatives the country could consider in choosing policies. Gayol stressed the need to take speedy action. Mexico, he asserted, had to persuade the best agricultural workers to stay in the country rather than move to the United States, where irrigation works had already been built, jobs were available, and wages much higher than at home. He also felt that Mexico was spending so much of its available wealth abroad merely to buy food and fiber that the government's domestic investments were very limited indeed. Worse still, the shortage of hard money at home meant that high interest rates were discouraging investment by Mexicans in their own economy. He also feared that Mexico would follow traditional policy in continuing to rely upon private investors to make the huge expenditures for infrastructure projects; but experience in other countries, he knew, had shown that private investment could not be relied upon for the massive scale of improvements required in twentieth-century conditions. The need now was for very large development, and on a national scale—not piecemeal local projects that would fall short of producing enough for a national market. Even where steadily encouraged and strongly subvened, private 62

The Complex Analyses

63

investment had not done the job elsewhere and should not be relied upon in Mexico. Gayol wished, finally, to convince Mexicans that time was of the essence, that Mexico's particular problems could not await any process of experiment or questionable policies. He distrusted the old reliance upon agricultural colonization as a policy to increase agricultural production. He thought he had seen workable programs in operation in Britain, in the United States, and in Spain. There trial and error had already shown that national policy would succeed only when financed and guided by the central government. His recommendations were simple. As for attempts to use land policy to solve the agricultural crisis, Gayol would subordinate such programs to the effort to bring in irrigation. Colonization would thus be carried forward only in conjunction with irrigation projects. The government, building great storage dams and channels, would trade water to landowners in return for part of their land. These "traded" lands, all lying within range of the big, new irrigation facilities, would then be colonized by small farmers under the government's supervision and control. Moreover, there would be no further distributions of public lands, as had gone on for so long in the hope of augmenting production. Through this new approach, the continuing poverty of farmers who had lived and worked in semi-isolation on small holdings or on communal lands would gradually be eliminated. Now water would be available to all of them from the government-owned projects. Gayol also took up the question, still unfamiliar to Mexicans, of how to select the most promising sites for large dams. His was a traditional viewpoint in this sense, starting with assumptions about the central government's interests and capabilities and ensuring that central control would be imposed. First, state governments would study and then recommend to the central government what they believed to be the best sites in view of the characteristics of different agricultural zones. The national government's engineers would "sooner or later" be made responsible for carrying through these large projects. They would have at hand a master file showing the most promising localities in terms of rainfall, eventual capacity of the dams, local availability of construction materials, and practicability of road construction in the zone. To guide these engineers in selecting among many possible projects, Gayol reproduced the nine criteria in use in Spain since 1903, which favored for large storage sites those to which most water could least expensively be brought to arable lands that were most extensive and already best prepared for cropping. The main message in Gayol's reports was that irrigation works for agriculture were the most urgent projects to be undertaken in the near future.

64

The Complex Analyses

Whatever policies might be selected to that end, it would take time for studies and collection of essential data to be carried out. The only sure and just way to conduct such a national program was by cooperative action involving federal and state governments. Gayol went so far as to say that he could see no justification for granting permanent private concessions of river water. Nor could he justify longlasting exemptions from taxes for private enterprises that supposedly would be tempted to build irrigation works if offered that kind of incentive. Such aid to private operators would, he pointed out, constitute a double exemption from responsibility. The private enterprise not only would be excused from normal taxes but would also escape additional taxes that should be assessed as the property increased in value through addition of the irrigation facilities. Considering that those facilities, and that increase in property value, would have begun with efforts financed entirely by public funds, Gayol felt it was not fair to give the private owner still another gift in the form of tax exemption. This, moreover, would be an incentive to inefficiency, and any efficient operator would be able to make a satisfying profit without the tax exemption. Gayol also took it to be bad public policy to give up revenue by granting tax exemption—the better way would be to collect the tax and use that income for further expenditures on still other water projects. Nor did Gayol believe that European or North American experience had shown that direct money subsidies were in fact useful, in the sense of providing incentives to create privately constructed irrigation works. Even with a 40 percent subsidy, the corporations involved had frequently failed to locate the rest of the money needed to do the work. Gayol was keenly aware of the current scarcity of loan funds in Mexico, and he considered it most unlikely that private individuals or corporations would be able to borrow on the scale required to launch big irrigation projects. Nor could the government change these brute facts simply by making small incentive grants to the corporations. Reliance upon public authorities and the public budget, therefore, was essential at every stage, from field studies through construction of the works, and including all the administrative arrangements for allocating the water once it had been impounded and made available. 1 By the time Gayol had completed his foreign mission and had published his two reports, another and very different study had already been submitted to the Ministry of Development and had been revised for publication in 1906. This proposal came in the form of a suggested law for administration of waters by the federal and state governments—in effect, a proposed replacement for the Law of June 5, 1888. It reflected the broadly based legal and administrative experience of Andrés Molina Enriquez during his years of service both in the Ministry of Development and the state of

The Complex Analyses

65

Mexico, where he had advised local action committees and tried to rationalize existing policies. Molina Enriquez's provisions thus resulted from coping with day-to-day difficulties inevitably encountered in trying to use Mexico's existing laws, administrative practices, and limited resources to develop the economy. Molina Enriquez thought that none of the foregoing was well suited to meeting the crying need for infrastructure facilities and for truly alert, responsive government administration. He considered the need to construct both irrigation works and combined irrigation-hydroelectric facilities, but he was mindful as well of the many different problems encountered in providing growing towns and cities with water and with communications to join them with the larger world. In fact, he felt that the worst of all problems was that of linking localities with satisfactory communications by water or by land. Thus he strongly recommended continuing the traditional order of priorities in water use. That meant putting communications first, followed by domestic use in populated places, and then power generation and irrigation, which were to his mind concurrent and noncompetitive concerns. Like Roberto Gayol, Molina Enriquez was much concerned with respecting the rights of Mexico's states against the encroachment of the central government, and he also reserved an important role for the states in his suggested policies. Like Gayol, too, he did not expect private interests to be able to achieve the great expansion of facilities and production that would have to come soon. His system, like that of the engineer, relied upon public authorities to set the pace and then to regulate all activities relating to expansion of facilities in the Mexican countryside. Nonetheless, his view differed from and expanded upon Gayol's in several important respects. First of all, he was convinced that such a legal tangle existed as to ownership of lands and waters that new legal bases and outlines had to be provided. These would have to be not merely up-to-date but also so shaped as to grow soundly out of Spanish usages and Mexican traditions and precedents. Hence he embodied the 1905-1906 recommendations in a law specifying water jurisdictions and usage policies. This to his mind would be but one of several such basic laws—to be followed by others, for instance, that would clarify all that related to communications. Molina Enriquez also differed from Gayol in seeing irrigation as but one part of a series of larger issues bearing on agricultural development. Irrigation was, "in a certain sense, only a sixth part of the agricultural problem." So his specific provisions for development of irrigation were, he hoped, to be grouped within a totality of new policies. These would encompass communications, hydroelectric power generation, and provision of water for irrigation and for consumption within the towns and cities.

66

The Complex Analyses

Assuming that the sufficient expansion of irrigation, power supplies, and communications would call for "the combined effort of all active elements in the country," his system envisaged giving part of the legal responsibility and of the work to the central government, part to states, and some to private persons and corporations engaged in new enterprises. So, unlike Gayol, whose suggestions passed over the jurisdictional questions and looked to central government to do almost everything, Molina Enriquez specified scopes for each of three sectors of activity. The central government would have all power over "fixed and permanent" waters. Federal authorities would make grants for nonrecoverable uses, such as those of town populations and irrigation on farms. They would also have exclusive control of communications along the permanent waterways; and he expected a good deal to be done about those. To state governments would go jurisdiction over rainwater and over temporary or seasonal flows, which he presumed would be put to use mostly in small irrigation. Private interests would be confirmed in whatever water rights already existed, while new private enterprises would be encouraged by government subsidies. Molina Enriquez's policies were based on sliding scales stated in priorities expressing value. Expansion of communications, which he considered a very difficult activity, was awarded first priority for grant of rights, and it was to be subvened by governments. Without question, water for this purpose had to be found. The grant of water to towns was of second priority as to urgency, to receive permanent award from the central government wherever water could be allocated from a "fixed or permanent" source. He ranked power generation and irrigation lowest in priority of award. Of these two, irrigation was least likely to be accomplished by private enterprise alone; therefore irrigation projects would be subsidized by government. As for hydroelectric power, he obviously assumed that it already was a growth industry attracting plentiful investment. He provided that it be taxed, so as to find the money for subsidies to irrigation projects that would serve farmlands. To supervise all these activities, Molina Enriquez was convinced of the need for a new ministry. It would perform the sensitive studies and field work "of different orders, of complicated specifications, and policies of various kinds and of the greatest variety." The ministry would also closely monitor all activities in irrigation and communications. At least every five years progress would be verified for each privately owned project in order to adjust amounts of use and rates of taxation to realistic levels. Regular inspections would ascertain whether enterprises were earning back the deposits they had made to government—larger deposits for higher-priority work in communications, smaller deposits for such lower-priority work as

The Complex Analyses

67

storage of water for irrigation. Those deposits would be inversely proportionate to the amount of capital invested, and they would also differ in accordance with the priority considerations Molina Enriquez had in mind. Thus the capitalist would put down less money for a project of higher priority, and he would have proportionately less to deposit the more he invested in his project. Finally, the ministry would hold all necessary power needed to regulate the good condition of drainage basins, which would function as regional systems for all purposes in view. The states of Mexico would have power over rainwater as it came to constitute nonpermanent flows, such as those in seasonal, torrential rivers and in smaller streams of intermittent flow. Molina Enriquez believed that much the largest amount of water available for irrigation was to be found in these forms—as rainwater and its runoff in nonpermanent streams. He recommended, therefore, that all these noncontinuous sources be placed within states' jurisdictions, expecting that the important aspects of irrigation expansion would be supervised by state laws and administrators. Those regional authorities would be the main sources of encouragement and care in the building of dams and other irrigation works, both large and small. He understood that up to his time the larger enterprisers had held a crushing advantage over small owners when it came to gaining water rights and in establishing and holding their positions as landowners. He would provide for clarification of all such rights, including those of large haciendas, those derived from subdivision of haciendas, and those of communally held lands. This he recommended so that all landholders would have practical bases of reference when seeking agricultural credit. He expected the policies of the future to serve equally well properties of all sizes, and not only those long productive but also those with no such record of past production. Molina Enriquez looked specifically to a future of expansion in farm production, mainly to be had through new irrigation, new communications, enhanced credit, and vigorous encouragement and supervision by governments. He planned in this way because he believed he knew where the geographic crux of Mexico's agricultural future lay. The nature of the problem itself consisted in providing enough food and in making possible many more jobs. The region in which this double problem could be solved was to be found in the three highland zones lying between the two great northsouth cordilleras, south of the great northern deserts. These are the territories thought of today as the two parts of the Meseta Central and the whole of the Meseta del Sur. These three areas, even though not as well endowed with rainfall as some other parts of the republic, constituted to Molina Enriquez's mind the

68

The Complex Analyses

"firm or fundamental cereals zone," the lands where most of Mexico's food was being raised and where much more food now had to be obtained. Indeed, it was upon this governing assumption that he had composed his whole policy. Thus he made no specific provisions for the Pacific slope. Nor did he deal with water management for the Gulf lowlands, even though those eastern lands brought forth the bulk of the country's exports of tropical produce; that region, he felt, would take care of itself, and it could not in any case produce the food needed elsewhere in the republic. Molina Enríquez's prescription was for Mexico's domestic economy. In simple terms, he was suggesting policies for the great increases in farm production, irrigation, and hydroelectric power that were so badly needed. And his first thought was for the marketing facilities that would be called for, which could help to break through the isolation in which so many of Mexico's farmers still lived. In contrast to Roberto Gayol's perspective, his related more closely to existing patterns of production and transportation. He was intent on linking many small producing areas with large domestic markets, and he was much more conscious of the complex of legal, administrative, transportational, and engineering steps that would be necessary to give the smallest farmers a promising future. Gayol's policy statements were really looking ahead to the day when agriculture could begin to grow in the more distant lands not yet thoroughly in exploitation. He was thinking especially of the Pacific slope, where almost everything still needed to be imported—people, roads, power, irrigation facilities — and where many supplies still came by ship. Molina Enriquez, however, was prescribing for the age-old, intensive mosaic of small settlements lying across the central highlands of the country. Molina Enríquez's analysis was as liberal as Gayol's in several respects, but it was radical in its time in cutting through the confusion and doubt surrounding the whole question of waters jurisdiction. He took the simple and probably fully defensible position that all waters had in olden times been public property. This doctrine seems reasonable enough as far as Mexico is concerned, because the two old Spanish categories in law—public and royal—had telescoped into but one kind of right when Mexico gained independence. Former royal rights became those of the people and republic of Mexico. So it was expectable that Molina Enriquez, who in his time had a solid reputation as a no-nonsense bureaucrat, would deal simply and decisively with these jurisdictional questions. To his mind it all reduced to a pattern in which government—federal or state, as the case might be —held most water rights 1 and private persons with good legal titles held the rest. He did not believe there were sources of water in Mexico to be thought of as floating out of reach, in a category called "public,"

The Complex Analyses

69

not to be touched by government yet somehow accessible to any private party who might come along. Molina Enriquez had indeed recognized one of the major difficulties in the situation: the prevailing uncertainty as to legal authority in water policy. The whole matter had become increasingly troublesome in recent years. There was a variety of Spanish legal terms which had in its time served to characterize property according to its supposed nature and degree of general importance. Many of Mexico's legal writers had fixed upon these terms, giving them differing weights in determining which kinds of water deposits and streams should be considered in the public domain and which private by "nature." Molina Enriquez scoffed at such interpretations, insisting that whatever waters had been in the royal domain became public property in the Mexican republic. The only possible differences in category or nature, and thus in permissible usages of different kinds of water sources, would be those the Mexican government might choose to establish in its laws. He knew, too, that such categorizing had not been done in the incomplete and confusing legislation so far in existence in Mexico. All one need know, therefore, was that established water rights of private parties had to be respected, because those had demonstrably been given or sold by the Spanish monarchy or, later, by the republic. Public authority could now be used as deemed best to control all waters still in the public domain. In other words, Molina Enriquez's view of both federal and state powers in managing waters broke past the limits of the then governing Law of June 5, 1888. That statute had specified some national jurisdiction and seemed therefore to leave the rest to the states. Molina Enriquez had a clearer distinction: to the central government all waters "fixed or permanent" in flow or in existence. This formula would dispose of the current problem among lawyers as to whether federal or state writ would govern smaller or larger tributaries of those streams dubbed "federal" in the Law of June 5, 1888. For instance, a river serving as boundary between two states was "federal" in the law, but no one could say whether all the tributaries of such a stream would also come within federal jurisdiction. The bureaucrat's formula was much clearer and allowed anyone to determine which waters would be considered federal, which would remain in state jurisdictions, and which were within private ownership or private concession.® Molina Enriquez's first formulation of his recommendations had been adversely criticized because he had not shown how his plans would be financed. In the 1906 publication, therefore, he explained the fiscal ramifications of each main provision and he showed how to deal with them. This explanation followed his categories of jurisdiction, the federal government providing for expenses occasioned in the "fixed and permanent" waters

70

The Complex Analyses

and the states dealing with rainwater and torrential or seasonal flows. He expected heavy expense for communications, using some of the fixed and permanent stream courses. He suggested that states could easily subsidize the building of great storage dams; the amount required would equal interest payments on those funds borrowed by entrepreneurs to build the works. He looked to a 5 percent interest charge in such cases, and he felt that the expense, held to a certain maximum amount in any state's budget at any one time, would be well worth the expenditure. In 1907 Francisco Madero published a study that in many ways constituted a recommended policy for agricultural irrigation. The provisions included by Madero were modern enough in their time to have been of importance in the increasing awareness of problems and possible solutions just before the coming of the Revolution. On the face of it his objective was quite simple and limited: to gain support from other Rio Nazas landowners for persuading the federal government to build a large storage dam on the river. He focused attention on this one desirable project, using ample data recently collected by the federal officials supervising water distribution from the river. Madero brought up a number of considerations and specific recommendations that did not appear in the more general proposals made by Roberto Gayol and Andrés Molina Enriquez. For instance, he assumed that the credit needs and other financial demands of such a large project could be dealt with either by the federal budget or by a sale of bonds guaranteed by government. Such bonds would be liquidated from income accruing to the landowners, who would find it easy enough to make the payments because they would be receiving a steady supply of water from the dam, growing more cotton than had been possible before, and making much higher profits. As for the desirability of the project itself, and its probable effect in increasing cotton production, Madero set forth theoretical figures based on the amounts of water known to have gone to waste in recent years and showing how much more cotton might have been cultivated with the aid of that unused water. He assumed that even more production would be obtainable with the dam in operation. Landowners would then use water at optimum times during the year, using less per hectare by avoiding the great wastage involved in flooding the land excessively as had long been the custom. Indeed, Madero well knew how many owners followed the practice of overdrenching their lands. He understood that it was done because water was available in large quantities months before it was needed, and owners could never be sure that any water would arrive later in the season as rain or in a second flow of the river. They therefore took all the water they could

The Complex Analyses

71

get, hopefully enough to be still providing moisture months later when the crop was coming up.4 Madero then fortified his argument for the new dam by showing that current water use was indeed having inefficient results. He estimated that only about half the amount of cottonseed expectable had been produced in recent years. Water enough for twice that production total had gone into the canals of private landowners, but with very slim results. He coupled this finding with a picture of how costly it was to continue to import cottonseed from the United States® rather than growing it in the Comarca Lagunera. Finally, Madero showed how a year's crop, that of 1907, had been reduced by two-thirds when torrential flow of the river had occurred too late in the season. He emphasized that the small crop in 1907 would mean in turn a next-year's planting of only a third that of 1907. All in all, then, he made out a very convincing argument for installing a huge storage dam on the Rio Nazas. With such a reservoir in place, he assumed, much more plentiful crops would lead to lower cotton prices. This would be a real blessing for the needy people of Mexico, because they would pay so much less for their cotton clothing. The further he followed this argument, the more reasons Madero found to show that national wealth would be increased, foreign exchange conserved, and benefits to many people achieved merely by constructing that one dam. Madero explained why stored water would make such a crucial difference in cotton production for the Laguna District. His account might sound familiar to anyone who has tried to make a single-crop routine work, with rainfall and river flow not accommodating the requirements of that crop. The best the cotton farmers could do, as things stood in 1907, was to hope that a certain series of events would occur each at the proper time. If the river would rise considerably in July, the farmers would irrigate the shallower soils—the tierras delgadas—which could not remain moist long enough to start a crop without this deep midsummer wetting. Then if the river would rise substantially again for a few days in August, September, or October, it would drench the deeper soils that would be seeded in early winter. Meantime the farmers would work these deeper tierras de cuerpo so as to hold the moisture below the surface. Try as they might, though, the farmers often did not succeed with these routines for lack of the substantial flows of July, because of too small a rise later on, or because too little rain might fall during the early autumn. Without those rains the land's surface might "open" and allow stored moisture to escape, so that the plants would not germinate when their time came a month or more later. The farmers then could only look on in consternation, there being no other source of water during the fall. And for

72

The Complex Analyses

most of them there was no secondary crop to fall back on, because by the early twentieth century most of the Laguna lands were put only into cotton. All this could be seen only too clearly by anyone traveling from the Laguna District to Mexico City by rail, who would ride for miles on an embankment across the huge Laguna Mayran, which was full of the waters that had come down the river in tremendous torrents that no canal had been able to divert into the cotton lands. Those great floods could put riverbank town and city streets under water. And if the high tide of flood came late enough in the summer, the result would be crop destruction throughout the most productive, lowest-lying zones of the district. In 1906 such a flood took out thirty square kilometers of standing crops and wrecked the irrigation works. Madero always had an eye for the h u m a n factors. He argued that the operation of a huge storage dam would assure year-round employment for workers, who in 1907, as so often before, were forced to leave the district to find work far away. They had no local alternatives for work once their seasonal labor in the cotton lands was over with or, as in 1907, simply not needed. Madero claimed that some of these needy workers had been forced to sell their possessions, and some had died of hunger while on the roads, trying to leave the district to seek employment elsewhere. Of course, Madero's appeal for the construction of a storage dam was not in itself a full-scale discussion of irrigation policy for all of Mexico. Nonetheless, coming at the time it did and containing some unusual features, it was an important statement of alternative policies. For instance, Madero simply assumed that twenty-five-year loans would be available for financing large dams wherever the outlook for profit was bright, as it was in the Laguna District. He also set forth a specific comparison of prospective expense and expectable income. This kind of calculation would in later years be commonplace in professional surveys of prospective dam projects, but in 1907 it had not yet been seen in public discussion of irrigation in Mexico. Indeed, the planning of large dams had not yet become a matter for general discussion, if only because governments were not yet building large dams in Mexico. No doubt private corporations had made such calculations, and in much greater detail, when they were considering constructing a dam. But those were private affairs, and the terms used were not familiar to outsiders. Madero helped to make this sort of viewpoint a matter for public knowledge, just as he also helped to make the Nazas River project a public issue. The questions posed by Francisco Madero were very troublesome in their time. Had the moment come for joint government and private efforts to build great storage dams? Given the expense of such projects, should they be the first steps taken to rationalize production in Mexico's leading agri-

The Complex Analyses

73

cultural zones? Could Mexicans accomplish such monumental engineering works? And could such projects be made available soon? Specifically, was the project Madero discussed likely to be carried out in the near future, given that the government and private parties had conducted laborious studies of the Rio Nazas for years past? The federal government was now regulating the use of that river's flow. But elsewhere in Mexico such comprehensive information and such active government presence did not yet exist. The whole complex business of finding out enough in order to do anything was only now beginning at Lake Chapala and in a few other locations in Mexico. So it might be said that Madero was arguing for the only possible case, the one that could hardly be denied. Yet he was calling for a massive project of a kind that seemed likely to be needed in one region after another across the whole country. In 1909 a very different call to action appeared in a pamphlet of official sponsorship, The Problem of Irrigation, written by a government agronomist, Ing. Leopoldo Palacios. His attention was given almost entirely to convincing his readers of the benefits of proper irrigation on a given parcel of land. He showed how little trouble or expense might be involved in small irrigation works or even those of larger size. He also considered at length the reasons why only some farmers were using irrigation, even though many more could benefit greatly from improving their properties by proper use of water. Palacios took a long view in discussing why irrigation had been limited in use not only in Mexico but elsewhere in the world. He pointed to wars as a main restraint and remarked how, by holding to certain values, people inclined away from making improvements in their farms. He also discussed the tendency to speculate in irrigable land rather than to develop it for farming. The restraining influences in Mexico, he believed, had been apathy, unwillingness to innovate, and a shortage of farm laborers—that same problem of falta de brazos so often discussed on the eve of Mexico's revolution. By far the most serious of these restraining influences, in his opinion, was unwillingness to try anything new. In his own consulting work he had often found this background cause of reluctance to install irrigation on the farm or in the hacienda to be the stumbling block. He had too often heard it said that "if those works were really so useful, everyone would be making them." Failure with a new irrigation system in the first season was usually blamed, in his experience, upon the new procedures themselves rather than upon inexperience or ineptness in building or using the structures. Palacios's main point, however, regarded the supposed shortage of farm workers in Mexico. Lack of workers, he was sure, was attributable merely to the very low rate of pay for farm labor. He was certain that paying good

14

The Complex Analyses

daily wages, or paying "by the job," would yield not only increased production but also better quality in the product itself. Palacios was the only one among these analysts to make clear that employers should be aware of these considerations, not simply as a matter of good sense or humanity but also because the quality of labor was so important—in fact, central to the farmer's chances for real success. What Palacios meant by this was that it was time itself which the farmer should consider his crucial variable. He illustrated this with words a hacienda owner might have recognized, speaking of crops lost because of work not done "in time." So many hacienda lands still stood unplanted when the rains came because, most probably, the work had not been undertaken soon enough. And that was true, again most probably, because the workers had not been industrious enough, or simply not efficient enough. The owner had paid too little for labor, and the work had not been done "in time." Another way in which this tendency to underpay the labor function was hurting large landowners, Palacios maintained, was their refusal to install irrigation simply because to manage the new works would require adding hands to the work force. They thought of such undertakings as merely adding to expenses and therefore cutting into profits. Palacios showed in several ways how the reverse would be true. Better facilities manned by firstclass workers would bring forth remarkable increases in production. Even a 30 percent increase in work force would be paid back several times over— or many times over—in increased profits from the same amount of land. Moreover, a great and additional gain would be that land now equipped with irrigation would rise remarkably in value: 300 percent was about the average increase in land price in such cases. So to reluctant landowners Palacios directed his message that "if we have a little more faith and a little more value," Mexicans could do as North Americans in the United States had been doing in recent years, improving the dry lands of their country. Thinking both of private management of small and large farms and of the government's policies, Palacios was arguing for wise and economical use of resources to solve Mexico's multifaceted agricultural problem. He stressed the use of just enough water at exactly the right time, applied at the right spot, as the best guiding formula in building the modern, and thus often the less expensive, irrigation works. He also stressed paying for work that would be done in the time allowable, and management of enterprises personally by the owner or, if need be, by some first-rate overseer possessed of the best current knowledge. The only other need, he believed, was for pleasant and well-provided living conditions for those who spent their whole lives working on the property. As for the national scene and any large policies to meet the obvious prob-

The Complex Analyses

75

lems, Palacios prescribed a harmonious cooperation and coordination of public and private efforts to provide for all needs "from the great works built by the State, to the humble well dug by an Indian." He insisted that the government itself had to provide the large-scale works that would give water to "great stretches of lands." Official action was necessary, for seldom could private interests finance such huge undertakings. Also, since drainage basins had already to some extent been shared out among many owners, they were not beyond the power of any one private party to control or to improve. Palacios feared that once irrigation works were operating in such drainage basins, a deranging phase would ensue unless government were to keep strong control of the situation. Speculative and bad-faith operations would come in, and these had to be avoided without fail. The government could, he thought, control the march of events if it were powerful locally, both as the owner of the great irrigation works and as the authority in charge of water distribution. He reminded his readers that the government had already brought about such large-scale projects as the drainage and provision of water in the Valley of Mexico. It had carried through the construction of the Tehuantepec railway and was pushing to completion many port works and great public buildings. Was it not worth having more publiclymanaged projects, to make Mexico into an important exporter of agricultural produce and to increase Mexico's wealth to heights as yet unknown? Beyond its control of construction and its management of the drainage basins, Palacios saw three further roles for government. One would be to subsidize private irrigation projects. Another was to stimulate private enterprise through favorable legislation. And the third was for public authorities to be busy in spreading useful information concerning irrigation in those parts of the country most indicated. Palacios argued strongly against his revered former professor, Roberto Gayol, regarding the likely benefit of direct subsidies to private enterprise. He explained away Gayol's foreign examples that showed subsidies to have been of little or no effect and insisted that irrigation was so badly and so urgently needed that all possible means had to be employed for its encouragement. 6 As for friendly legislation, Palacios gave but one example, one he felt to be very important for encouraging construction of new dams, especially where the stream flow was so limited that only a few reservoirs would be possible to install. He suggested that water go to the owners in order of seniority of their irrigation works, so as to encourage, for instance, a downstream owner to have confidence that his water allocation would not later be taken off by some new dam upstream. Palacios was convinced that in Mexico, as in "almost all nations" early in the twentieth century, irrigation had become the current problem because

16

The Complex A nalyses

prior development of railroads had made it possible to bring crops from formerly isolated regions. Thus the first questions to ask should be: How much water do we have here, and what amount of land can we water with it? Where will the water come from in each region? Which of these regions is most urgent to equip with these new facilities, given the needs of markets nearby and far away? Finally, which are the best sites for the large hydraulic works in regions chosen for first attention? Before attempting to answer such questions Palacios emphasized that the whole matter was too important to await lengthy or exact surveys. Work had to proceed by tour de force, using just enough information to indicate a course of action to be taken, which with modifications as the work advanced would then lead to resolution of the local problems. He illustrated what he meant by assuming first of all that one-quarter of all rainfall would be available in stream flows. He then guessed at a need per hectare of land of 10,000 cubic meters of water; and he concluded that Mexico could irrigate 28.5 million hectares of land for cropping. This he assumed at a time when Mexico's land under irrigation was generally thought to represent about 1.5 million hectares at the very most. From these first calculations Palacios then roughly worked out a need for about 1.5 billion pesos to construct the works on the 28.5 million hectares. He reminded his readers that he was further assuming the best efforts by everyone involved to carry out such a monumental program as was suggested by his figures. How, then, to obtain that "harmonious" coordination of all forces public and private, corporate and individual, so as to fill the country with all the available water needed for modern agriculture? Palacios thought he saw the solution to this problem of finance in "using a good part of the product of some [new works] to develop more construction." He would use funds that came from government, private sources, and foreign investors as well. His was the first analysis made public after the federal government had appropriated some twenty-five million pesos for encouragement of irrigation works and other enterprises. Palacios showed how this sum, if "well used," could add almost three times its own amount to the national wealth in increased land values alone. As for which regions of Mexico best afforded this or that variety of opportunity for irrigation, Palacios first identified the four kinds of water sources: permanent springs and streams, seasonal or "torrential" streams, and wells. He thought of these sources as lying mostly in three regions: the coastal corridors, the Meseta Central, and the mountainous zones. As for coastal corridors where many rivers flowed constantly, Palacios said that irrigation had a bright future there. Water would be channeled from the sizable rivers into nearby lands for such purposes as vanilla and sugar cultivation, which until recently had seen little or no benefit from irrigation facilities.

The Complex Analyses

77

In the Meseta Central few springs or streams of continuous flow were to be found. Rainfall was ample in the south and very scarce in the north, and there were some torrential streams. Here, said Palacios, was the region of highest priority for irrigation works, given the extremely irregular occurrence of rains and the "notorious scarcity" of permanent waters. The indicated policy was to establish storage facilities on the torrential streams. The limits of such policy in the Meseta Central would be found wherever tropical products were desired, for these would need more water than could be provided from dams. As for the mountainous region with lesser river flows and few sizable springs, Palacios saw a smaller role for irrigation, and that mainly in establishing dams wherever possible. Results would be much less impressive here because farming was impractical in such large zones all through this terrain. Finally, Palacios expected Mexicans to irrigate from wells, as in arid regions of the United States wherever rivers could not flow in permeable soils and where water had to be carried overland in aqueducts or pipes. Turning to the question of sites for large dams, Palacios reviewed the advantages and disadvantages of the three typical locations to be encountered. For high, narrow dams in mountain canyons, only a small site need be acquired. Stored water lying deeply in the narrow lake would lose little to evaporation. Rock was almost sure to be available close at hand. But the dam had to be very high and very strong, would be very expensive to build, and would call for costly road and other access works to support operations at the site. By contrast, one could build much more easily at locations low down in the gentler valleys, with easy access and no need for high, heavy dam walls. The disadvantage there began with the higher cost of acquiring land and with the much larger parcels that had to be bought. Evaporation would be serious from these much larger and shallower lakes. Construction of the works would often be costly in such places, too, because much of the heavier and tougher material would not be available from local sources. Palacios also pointed to the third kind of site, commonly found in the Meseta Central, where hills enclosed small valleys. Often the basement was of impermeable material, and basaltic rock frequently was there in the hills themselves to be used in making the watertight damming structures. The valleys in many cases constituted natural basins, needing only limited amounts of walling, and usually not of great height, to be able to enclose very large amounts of water. Evaporation there would be much less than in the larger projects built lower down in the drainage basins. Palacios expected that all three kinds of sites would be used, as indeed some of each already were in use as reservoirs. Also, he looked forward to much greater utilization of natural lakes by tunneling through to take the water to valley lands below. Although his emphasis was strongly toward

78

The Complex Analyses

increasing the use of irrigation wherever possible, by whichever methods proved to be best, and on any scale from tiny to tremendous, Palacios came to the same priority conclusions as had Andres Molina Enriquez—that the most urgent attention had to go to the Meseta Central and to the building there of many dams. In 1910 two of the most important analyses appeared, with widely divergent viewpoints. Of these the first was by Oscar Braniff, owner of many modern enterprises, including a very large hacienda complex that contained some of the most advanced irrigation works in Mexico as well as some of the most intensely cultivated lands. Braniff s recommendations for Mexico's agricultural future differed from all other pre-Revolutionary statements I have seen in that he frankly did not expect rapid change. Perhaps for that very reason he felt free to stipulate an ideal, sweeping alteration of the whole picture of Mexican farm policy and agriculture. His main message was that all existing enterprises and efforts had to be maintained and encouraged while other, better ones could be added. As he put it, the point was "to establish tendencies, creating interests." Braniff, in other words, simply did not believe in making any policies that had negative effects on any existing efforts or that would drive out of agriculture anyone then working in it. Even the most retrograde of inactive hacienda owners constituted potential value for the country; and there were great stores of such latent value everywhere in Mexico. The task thus was to persuade, to inform, to educate, to subsidize, to build and to equip, and to encourage with credit facilities. Hostility was to be avoided at all cost, and every positive step was to be taken with "prudence and patience" so as to recall that the effort in hand should always be seen as an "evolution, not a revolution." The goal was to reach the best possible level of production per land unit. This would require an attitude of giving "time to time," so that the outcome would find Mexico brimming over with efficient farming enterprises. These would be of all sizes, from the largest and most heavily equipped down to a newly created class of middling farm units and to other small operators by the millions all over the country. In his own words, Braniff s immediate objectives for policy in the short run were to the effect that "the day we manage within practical limits to reforest the indicated land surface, capture and regularize enough water, and put all arable land into intensive cultivation, Mexico will be a great and prosperous nation." 7 As for irrigation, Braniff struck first at the unmistakable tendency on the part of the federal government to take full control to the point of allotting water to private owners each year in view of the current supply. Such a policy amounted to eliminating private water rights, with which, thought Braniff, would go the incentive owners needed to equip their land fully for

The Complex Analyses

79

modern irrigation. Better for the government, rather than imposing this shaky and unreliable situation on the farmers, simply to take control of all lands and waters, equip them for use, and then lease back the lands to whichever owners gave promise of farming them best. But of course Braniff was not recommending such an "ultrasocialist" and "paternalist" policy, toward which the central government by 1910 seemed to be moving. Instead, Braniff spoke strongly for removing two of the most limiting of all the water-use practices then enshrined in laws in Mexico. The first of these was the requirement that water only be used by the holder of the right, and for none but the purposes stated when the right had been acquired. The second undesirable limitation was the provision that the only parties eligible for rights in a stream were those who owned riverbank land. Much better would be to free up the water use of the river, not requiring any relationship between water rights and lands and allowing the holder of the concession to do whatever he wished to do with the water. This would bring into play all the flexibility and initiative of which innovative enterprisers would be capable from year to year, applying their valuable resource differently so as to give it more rational use. Further encouragement could be offered to private entrepreneurs by computing the water right according to the amounts actually used—leaving out of the total the water that evaporated. Finally, Braniff emphasized that the only realistic and useful policy for private water rights was to grant them in perpetuity whether for agricultural irrigation, for industrial uses, or for power generation. The picture that Braniff had in his mind of the rural Mexico of the future, which would come to be as his policies were enacted, was that of a vast patchwork of large and small properties across all the humid zones. All the land would be intensively cultivated, much of it in fruit trees. The typical small farm would consist of three hectares, which would be in fruits with some vegetables and a few animals. To bring this about on a national scale there would be no need for massive irrigation projects. Instead, almost complete reforestation of drainage basins coupled with nationwide agricultural education and extension services would be enough. From then on the main effort needed would merely be in avoiding any wastage of water. Once such a new countryside had shaped itself, Braniff felt, the problem of agricultural credit—so obviously refractory in 1910 —would solve itself because the whole agricultural sector of the economy would be so sound and so productive. Braniff expected that a good part of the heavy expense involved in turning Mexico toward intensive horticulture would be borne by the national treasury. He looked to creation of a government department that would either import or cultivate in Mexico the root stocks required. In addition,

80

The Complex Analyses

the government would import the chemicals needed for fertilizers, without which fruit trees would not prosper. He prescribed exemption from import duties, and from state and federal taxes, over periods of twenty years while new farms were being established. He wished to see cash subventions of various kinds given per hectare of land to be cultivated in the specified kinds of crops. Services of a multitude of agronomists also had to be available. The government should bring in something like the immense enterprise of agricultural investigation, experimentation, and diffusion of information regarding farming and the farmer's life which had shown such fine results in the United States. In all respects, Braniff s approach was to proceed on the assumption that positive, rewarding steps were the only effective ones to take. Each owner participating in reforestation, for example, should have proportionate additions to his water right. All attempts at master planning, Braniff believed, as in predicting levels of resource use in farming in a given district, were doomed to failure. Too many factors were involved, and needs varied markedly from year to year. Credit was such a variable, and so was the amount of water needed on a given plot of land—varying, he felt sure, with the particular crop in question and with the conditions of the given year. So Braniff s system amounted to a series of recommendations that would move the variable factors into the marketplace, where they could be purchased or leased each year, in differing amounts, according to each owner's guess as to his needs in that one year. Here Braniff was thinking of such facts as the widely differing amounts of water called for on a given parcel of land from one year to the next. Water use had to differ because both the stream and the rainfall would never bring water at the same time or in the same amounts, and because other climatic facts would differ so widely from year to year. Braniffs answer to all this variety was to reward the enterpriser, and to leave it to his keen senses to pick the combination of resources of whatever kind—money, water, labor, machinery, fertilizer—and the timing of the use of each, which would bring about success in production. The only compulsory or negative measures included in Braniffs system were indeed important ones. The first was his suggestion to tax those landowners unwilling to modernize the operation of their properties, according to the use the land should have had in that year. His second measure of this type would also strike directly at a major abuse, in that owners of dams would be compelled to keep a certain total of water in the reservoir up to one-third of its capacity. This was important to ensure that some water would be available to all those to whom the dam owner sold the essential resource. In all, Braniffs proposals paralleled most closely those of Francisco

The Complex Analyses

81

Madero, in that each of them was thinking of a local situation he knew very well and could picture in convincing detail. The difference lay in the fact that Madero did not generalize his case to imply its applicability everywhere in Mexico. Braniff foresaw a broad extension of the pattern best used in his own neighborhood, where modern haciendas existed side by side with semitributary small enterprises that bought water and transporta tional facilities from the most modern of the large operators. Braniff s conviction of the adaptability of his recommendations did not end with the onset of the Revolution. He did not leave the country. His ideas, in fact, would be carried forward into the policy deliberations for land and water management in the presidential regime headed by Francisco Madero. The final set of recommendations made public just before the Revolution were the most sweeping. They aimed directly at using water-management policy in rousing agricultural production. The author was the engineer Manuel Vera, who had long served in the Ministry of Development. For years he had acted as head of the Fifth Section, which was most concerned with hydraulic development in rural Mexico. His proposals came in a large pamphlet from the ministry's own press entitled Organización del servicio federal de la hidráulica agrícola e industrial. They constituted a series of detailed recommendations as to how to make irrigation available for agriculture wherever feasible across the whole country. Unlike the other analyses made public at the time, this one amounted to a statement of new official policy sponsored by the minister of development, Olegario Molina. As with Oscar Braniff s personal memoir, the near objective of Vera's suggestions was to obtain ten million more hectares of irrigation agriculture. And, with Braniff, Vera was proclaiming a policy for the longer future rather than a series of expedients intended to obtain quick results. In common with the other two elaborate analyses — those by Braniff and Molina Enriquez—Vera stressed the need for government to follow those policies that would affect both large agribusinesses and rich individuals, on the one hand, and small farmers (what Vera termed the "mass") on the other. Vera's essay struck directly at the need for information about Mexico's rivers—exact information that would permit effective government policymaking and so would encourage ample private investment. He regretted that the government's efforts to date, in the exploratory and regulatory missions sent out into various river basins, had shown such "minimal" results at such high cost. And he projected an altogether different and decentralized approach by the ministry's engineers in the future. Both government and potential investors—those interested in irrigation agriculture and in power generation particularly, but also those with factory industry in mind —had to have the very specific information about

82

The Complex Analyses

river regimes and regional economic potentials which would tell them whether or not to invest, said Vera. He thought that the necessary information could be gathered in two stages, one that would pass quickly and another that would call for many years of effort. The first steps would be to survey all those streams and basins that seemed to bear promise for great irrigation works and for extensive farming and industrial development. At that stage, the information need be neither complete nor exact. The important question to keep in mind in those rapid surveys was whether or not there was evidence of the presence of all necessary factors. It would not be enough simply to find an ideal dam site along a big river, with plenty of farmlands lying below. It had to be clear at this earliest stage that there would be enough water to fill a huge dam (and enough to produce the minimum amount of power, if this were to be a dual irrigation-power project). There had to be enough water in prospect to irrigate all the lands available, and enough as yet uncommitted to private owners to allow the entrance of other enterprisers. The assumption was that these new entrants would be coming in strongly, with all the capital needed for important new work. Within a reasonably short time the exploitation of the whole zone would thus be provided for. At this first stage, then, the aim was to have just enough information about the drainage basin to ensure that new enterprises could come in to fill out a complete pattern of utilization of the local resources. When any stream had thus been identified as unmistakably promising for irrigation or for hydroelectric or other industrial purposes, the full and competent studies would begin. These would include each aspect necessary to satisfy the needs of those who would later manage the hydraulic, the engineering, and the economic operations of the developing zone. Such a study would begin with topographic and any essential geologic work to determine the scope of eventual water utilization and its practicality. The work would then move on to water analysis, studies of evaporation, and considerations of the several economic aspects that would indicate whether the whole development of the basin would be viable in view of the uses to which projects would be put. Thus no works would be undertaken without exact prior knowledge of the economic value to be added in the zone, how the works would be financed, and what the economic outcomes were both within the zone itself and through marketing its products along the lines of regional and national transportation. To simplify this set of requirements, Vera stayed clear of any questions about choice of crops—whether or not such choices made by local farmers were really the best. He merely asked that the careful study of each project include all necessary data as to the crops to be cultivated and the farming customs in the locality.

The Complex Analyses

83

Vera emphasized that the results of such studies were needed for several important reasons. Competent information was essential to knowing whether a given project would or would not be within the power of private enterprise to undertake with its own resources. He knew that most but not all larger irrigation works would need to be paid for and constructed by government, and he thought it crucial, on projects of such great scope, to avoid wasting money. He did not wish to see repeated what was then happening in one program in which the viability was still imponderable, although the project was already in its early stages. In that instance the government was being forced to lend large amounts of money and to undertake new studies, simply because the most necessary facts had not been in hand to begin with. Another important reason why careful studies had to be done early on was to ensure that Mexico's projects would succeed and thus would gradually free the nation from domination by its "neighbors." Mexico should take its place, he believed, as a supplier of basic products to less rich and less economically developed nations. Finally, with careful studies done nationwide in every important river basin, the government would have persuasive information to use in attracting private investment. Likewise, competent studies were the stuff that would convince bankers to make the large loans needed by any investor, foreign or Mexican. Vera felt very strongly that this was an essential benefit of competent field studies: the basic information for a propaganda campaign directed steadily at large-scale investors and at bankers. As for small farmers, "the most numerous, the class of greatest need," Vera thought they would require no such propaganda, no such convincing; but they too would need credit. So, as careful advance studies were being done in various river basins, one of the continuing activities in the Fifth Section of the Ministry of Development would be to shape and to publish all the important data showing the potentialities in each zone. These recommendations stemmed from Manuel Vera's belief that the chief actors in the early stages had to be the government and private enterprisers. He had no hope that hacienda owners would play any important role in the beginning; most of them were carrying such heavy mortgages that they would do well even to make their payments. Nor were other "landowners and individuals" able to invest the large sums needed for thorough study of river basins or for engineering works of scale. Vera did not discuss rules of thumb for telling which storage dams or hydroelectric projects had to be done by government and which could be put up by private corporations. He made it obvious enough, however, that both public and private efforts would be involved when it came time to install the dams, aqueducts, power stations, and factories in any drainage basin. If the government put in the engineering works, it would recover its expense from

84

The Complex Analyses

private parties using the water captured by the works. Moreover, all river systems in exploitation would remain under federal inspection and control. As for water rights, Vera mentioned no legal problems or uncertainties. Indeed, he apparently had no interest whatsoever in legal intricacies. He represented the sector within the federal bureaucracy which expected to go on taking power into the hands of the central government if that should be necessary to get the big jobs done. When it came time to confirm old rights and establish new ones for private parties, existing rights, he made clear, would not simply be reviewed and confirmed. Any existing engineering works would have to come up to acceptable standards. In the many cases of conflict among owners in the same locality, the government would look carefully into the situation and would arrive at decisions in view of considerations of "justice." In each river basin each user of water would be given the role he should have "as much because of his rights as in view of the public interest." This was exactly the attitude which Oscar Braniff feared and loathed, and against which he had tried to provide in his own recommendations: the day when the individual could no longer count upon a legal right but would have to take from time to time whatever portion might come to him in view of someone else's calculus of activity and efficiency in the use of resources. As an experienced bureaucrat, Vera was perfectly willing to present detail. He showed how much the national surveys would cost and the likely expense of permanent inspection and study teams. He also indicated how many people would have to be added to the government service. Budgeting for the Fifth Section of the ministry of development would rise tenfold and would involve more than a hundred times the number of skilled personnel then at work. By far the major part of the expense would arise because of the need not merely to expand but to decentralize the operations of the Fifth Section, the so-called Ramo de Aguas. When Manuel Vera sat composing his memoir, he was one of but two engineers assigned to the section office. By necessity he was keeping with him at headquarters the other six engineers in the service rather than sending them into the field as had been intended when they were appointed as engineer-inspectors. Vera first stated his ideal basis for staffing the full national effort of the future. One engineer-inspector would be stationed permanently in each river basin, with all the personnel he needed for studies and other work both in the office and in the field. But as Vera recognized, there was no need to begin studies in all localities simultaneously, and his proposal, therefore, called initially for surveys in the fifty-four river systems that seemed likely to be the most important for early development. He proposed dividing the effort into ten geographic zones, with a chief over each and with a roving commission of four engineers. The chief engineer in each

The Complex Analyses

85

zone would supervise the work of each four-person river party. In addition, one inspector would be permanently at work on the Rio Bravo del Norte; and two would go to each of the states of Campeche and Yucatán, where the water problems included a lack of river flow and would be difficult to solve. For the central office Vera prescribed 34 engineers and a greatly enhanced number of support personnel. This group would review reports, prepare publications, and supervise all water uses in the Valley of Mexico, and it would also furnish a "flying squad" of experts whenever urgently needed. The whole table of organization called for a total of about 270 engineers, ultimately to be supported by about the same number of secretarial and technical people. The annual budget of the section would rise to about two-thirds of the amount then used by the whole Ministry of Development. Vera pointed out that such an outlay would not by any means cover all eventual needs but merely the first stage of work—the careful study, inspection, and supervision in the fifty-four river systems he had in mind. For instance, all the big rivers on Mexico's lower Gulf Coast south of the Rio Pánuco were omitted from the proposal because, as Vera put it, lack of rainfall was not a problem in that region. Manuel Vera's project was published at a time when legislation was before the congress to bring about just such a national hydraulic service as outlined in his memoir. The release of the publication to newspapers was very likely timed to sway opinion in favor of the program, to persuade persons of influence to back this approach to a large national program rather than the few piecemeal efforts already in hand. As will be seen below, Vera's recommendations, presented with the active support of his minister, Olegario Molina, were being put forward as an "engineers' project" in opposition to the "bankers' project" favored elsewhere within the federal government. This fact may explain the frank statements in Vera's memorandum of the need for government supervision and initiative as opposed to any reliance upon private enterprisers. As seen by its authors, in other words, this proposal was an argument for the government to take fully in hand all the preliminaries indispensable for moving Mexico's agriculture toward much higher levels of production. The Vera memorandum was an attempt to steer clear of such other objectives as bailing out inefficient hacienda owners. As we will see, there was a real conflict here between the engineers' and the bankers' choices of policies of first priority. That conflict of view would continue to the end of the Diaz regime. These, then, were some of the most prominent recommendations and analyses made public during the last few years before the beginning of the Mexican Revolution. Their variety of emphasis and content reflects the many interests already to be found in Mexico's economy and government.

86

The Complex Analyses

That there were serious disagreements and divergences among all these major interests is clear enough, even from the few analyses we have briefly reviewed. It appears, nonetheless, that almost all the main points of view, and many of the specific recommendations, were represented somewhere in government policy, to some degree. That is to say two things. First, the analysts did have broad bases for agreement: the interests they represented agreed during the early twentieth century on policies to be followed by the central government. Second, the regime of Porfirio Diaz was trying to hold all factions and viewpoints together in support of the government's programs. To that end the regime was pursuing at least as many different policies as there were interests—as many as the very different perspectives seen in the analyses in print. The Diaz regime was still trying, in other words, to serve the personal interests of powerful friends, while at the same time pioneering policies of economic nationalism and economic development which ran counter to the interests of many influential people. The various recommendations discussed above pointed the directions in which Mexican agricultural and irrigation policy would later move. The problems discussed in analyses written before 1911 would still be there when the revolutionary fighting died down in 1916. Moreover, the same attitudes and viewpoints would be brought to the solution of those problems beginning in the 1920s and continuing steadily thereafter. Most graphically, too, those solutions would be sought in the same spirit of practical and undogmatic experimentalism which is seen in several of the analyses written before 1911. Important goals were held in common among all these writers: production, national independence, social welfare, and peace. All insisted that these goals could be achieved only through innovation and through application of expertise. Few of the writers had so clear or so rigid a view of priorities in methods, or were so in favor of one approach or opposed to another, for their recommendations to be wholly different from one another. These prescriptions were still too general and too tentative to generate mutually exclusive contrasts in detail. Even on such a central issue as the relative degree of government participation and power, there were no polar opposites among these best-informed writers. All of them saw such large tasks to perform, and such urgency in launching new policies, that none would recommend a return to the days of caretaker government or laissez-faire capitalism. Nor did any of these writers imagine a day when large corporations or rich individuals would disappear from the scene. In fact, these writers fully expected that all powerful interests and elements would continue somewhat as they had done in the past, and that it was worthwhile proposing new policies because, when the time came, all would be able and willing to cooperate in the leap to a strong national economy and a more independent nation.

4

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

In the early 1890s it was slow business for a private party to acquire the right to take water from a Mexican stream. The laws called for a series of precise steps that had to be taken for any application to succeed. And by the 1890s the laws were being enforced. Not only was the government's attitude somewhat demanding but also there was suspicion and nervousness among other parties who might be affected by the outcome of the application. These other parties were the landowners, industrialists, and municipalities already holding water rights in the same stream. As holders of existing rights, they knew how much water they had been taking. But in the absence of records of river flow, nobody knew what the total amount was of water going to all users. So no one could say at which point the granting of new rights would overcommit the total flow and thus reduce the amount of water any user could receive. Such uncertainty was underscored, sometimes to a frightening degree, whenever a "bad year" brought much less water to the river than usual. The federal and state governments had not yet been able to gather cumulative records of the whole flow of water in any given basin. Nor did the authorities know enough about river basins to provide advice or assurances to each party personally. The appropriate government offices did exist, but they were too small to do more than handle the minimum level of paper work relating to new concessions that had to be dealt with at headquarters—either in the Fifth Section of the Ministry of Development at Mexico City or in the public works or material improvements sections of state governments. Staffs were too small to spare engineers to make the initial on-site inspections. All such professional service was being done by engineers in private practice whose work was paid for by those applying for water rights. So the 87

88

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

governments concerned were always in the position of entering into these affairs late—after fears and doubts had already arisen in the locality. Sometimes the thin line of government employees was unable to head off local misunderstandings and conflicts or to avoid the more serious delays involved should one or more parties go to court to block an application. Even where such conflicts did not arise at the very outset, the government itself might impose delays. Information coming with the application was often not complete enough to show whether a new enterprise could legally, or reasonably, be encouraged. The governments also found themselves delaying applications for some owners who only applied for a water right about the time they were beginning or even finishing up the new works referred to in the application. All of these difficulties, however, were expectable enough in a large country where there had been so little experience of close or obligatory supervision of local engineering works. Only in the Federal District and in some of the ports had government exercise of control been close or continuous. Now, in the 1880s and 1890s, supervision had somehow to be established and administrative requirements insisted upon at all stages. This was an urgent matter because in some parts of Mexico numerous new enterprises were seeking to use scarce resources. Administrators were apt to find themselves facing choices between, for example, agricultural, industrial, and mining enterprises, all of which were requesting water. They also had to concern themselves with sufficiency of water available for current and future domestic uses in the towns and cities. In very brief outline, the administrative process of application went like this: An applicant first offered personal identification and gave specifics about the location and ownership of the land or enterprise to be served. Then, the amount of water desired, its source, the site where it would be taken from the stream, and the purpose for which it would be used had to be set forth. If the stream were known to lie within federal jurisdiction, Section Five of the Ministry of Development would review the records of water rights in that stream and would then instruct the applicant how to proceed. One of the first steps was for Section Five to engage an engineer to inspect the premises and to begin to formulate recommendation. Does the application merit approval? Which kinds of works will suffice? Will so much water be needed for the purpose in view? The same engineer would inform all other water users of this new application. He would then convene a meeting with them to discuss the matter. Did anyone have substantial objections? Was anyone of a mind to interpose formal objection (oposición)} A written record of all the facts and recommendations was then sent to Section Five for careful review. Sometimes these early stages passed quickly by, and the Section Five

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

89

supervisors could then get on with the final procedures whereby its own specifications for the works would be stated. These requirements would be presented to the applicant in written form and illustrated by maps. Once ensuing negotiations and explanations were concluded, the whole process would end with publication of the formal concession in the official gazette of the state. At that juncture the applicant was in possession of a government concession (concesión), a sort of franchise giving the right to take a specified amount of water annually from the stream. Water could be used for the stated purposes only, and only with carefully planned and designed engineering works. Furthermore, those works had now to be finished within stated time limits, or the concession would lapse. Indeed, it would lapse if the holder violated any of the engineering conditions or if the water were not used during a certain period of time, usually ten consecutive years. In other words, these "concessions" were heavily conditional and could be terminated by government administrative action. Of course, the elaborate application procedures did not always go quickly or smoothly. Often the first steps were slow, and frequently the parties did not respond to the engineer's circular or choose to meet with him. Some might present formal objections very early in the going. If not satisfied by the actions or decisions of Section Five in that regard, they could and often did take their causes into state court (where all appeals went, whether from federal or state jurisdiction). Such legal actions frequently took the form of a plea for stay, or they might appear in the unique form of an appeal for a writ of amparo,1 so often used in Mexican courts to try to defend a private person's civil rights against arbitrary or unlawful acts of public authority. Delay might also occur from the very beginning because information furnished to Section Five was insufficient to show the proper legal standing of the applicant. Data might be so thin, for instance, as not to indicate whether other requirements of law were being met, whether the amount of water requested would likely deprive other users, or whether the amount was economical and efficient for the purposes in view. Sometimes, for reasons beyond our ken, an applicant would simply fail to follow through with the paperwork, and the whole matter would remain in limbo for years, or forever. By the 1890s there was one more reason, a very important one, for delay or difficulty with some applications. Certain limited zones were experiencing a demand for more water and electric power because of such new facts as the recent encouragement of installation of municipal services, urban growth, more available investment funds, and the encouragement of large-scale irrigation agriculture and of industry. Many potential inves-

90

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

tors had concentrated their attention on a small number of zones they believed to be promising ones. They were looking to the nearby streams, or to the water in the towns and cities or in sewage projects, for inexpensive sources of water and power. Some wanted water for washing processes in industries, or for other manufacturing use. Others expected to produce and market electric power. And still others were taking up large-scale farming or were intending both to farm and to generate electric power. In the Laguna District, for example, many of the new applications were of extremely large scale. The applicants had great hopes, because cotton grown there was of the best quality available in Mexico, the land was very fertile, and the profit rate was high indeed. 1 Moreover, the coming of the railroads had been one of the major factors attracting new investment into this cotton boom. Given the large scale of so many of the new enterprises, it is not surprising that someone, either the new applicant or one of the established water users, would ask anxious questions while new concessions were under consideration—or later, when the concessionaire was carrying through construction. If the proposal was for an irrigation project, could the new enterprise be assured that other users were taking no more than their proper shares during the seasons when water was badly needed? If the new applicant had hydroelectric energy in mind, could he be assured that upriver users would not drain so much water as to disrupt the generation of energy in the new streamside plant? If a city or town now required much more water than ever before, could the civic authorities be confident of a large enough supply from their neighborhood stream? Or would they need to consider buying the water right of some nearby hacienda? If a new applicant detected unwillingness to grant as much water as he thought he needed, might he not suggest that towns, farmers, and industries alike had always used the river water on a wasteful scale? Should he not then be granted all he would need, given that he would use the best of modern technology to benefit the economy of the nation by his parsimonious and highly productive operations? To such questions neither the federal government nor state governments could give ready answers. It was increasingly urgent, however, that answers be available so as to encourage new enterprises and growing municipalities. On the one hand, there was a rising desire for healthful and equable facilities in the cities and towns. On the other hand, there was a more general recognition in government that, for economic growth and development, it was not enough to have the national railroad system of which Mexico was so proud: production of goods was needed to feed the people and to strengthen an economy that had too little to offer by way of industries, agriculture, and the basic power potential to drive these forward. At this remove in time we can only guess as to which of all these new pressures may

Re connoti ering the Rivers: The Early Projects

91

have moved the federal government and some state administrations to make new laws that would both facilitate water use and give governments a stronger hand in encouragement and regulation of water utilization. Whatever the specific reasons for new, energetic government actions, though, it does seem clear to which region of Mexico these new efforts first applied. Outside the Federal District, where various water policies were unavoidable and were being intensified during the late nineteenth century, the first such situation into which the federal government entered was in the Laguna District, watered by the Rio Nazas and its tributaries and lying in parts of Durango and Coahuila states. Federal exercise of authority began there even before the passage of the strong new Waters Law of 1888, discussed below, which gave the central government more power in making hydraulic policies and in administering water resources. Part of the trouble was that Durango and Coahuila each contained rich producing zones of the Laguna District, and they had never cooperated in rationalizing the problems there. In fact, the two states had still not managed to agree upon the location of their mutual boundary, which ran somewhere through the very heart of the irrigated stretch of land adjoining the Rio Nazas. From the viewpoint of the central government, award of new water rights to powerful interests located in both states was increasingly difficult to justify. It seemed that additional economic investments merely led to incessant and more serious conflicts. No public authorities had managed to persuade riverbank owners to join together to compose their differences or to solve their common problems and concerns. Instead, even before the 1890s, a rising tide of investment was already leading to still more conflict and to stronger mutual fears and incriminations among industrialists, cotton magnates, and municipalities. All of them needed not merely a minimum assured water right but, as they saw it, more than that as their operations or populations steadily increased. What this all amounted to was a veritable explosion of activity—high profits, rising industrial capacity, rapid increase in cotton production, zooming land values, and quick growth in the populations of towns now becoming small cities. A great deal of the upward thrust depended upon putting more and more water to use. To take more water from the river on any dependable basis was a serious enough problem. The annual flow was only periodic and torrential, and it was radically different in amount from year to year. From the central government's viewpoint, however, there were other crucial aspects to this whole "question of the Nazas." Among these, no doubt, were political complications, with one set of exploiters along the upper river ranged with the state of Durango and an equally potent coterie located downstream in

92

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

Coahuila. Individually, the owners in each group included a number of the most substantial personal fortunes and political satrapies to be found in the republic. The rich corporations thus lined up in opposition to each other were all accustomed to government favor. As explained by William K. Meyers, the somewhat differing interests of the upper-river owners in Durango State and the lower-river owners in Coahuila merely sharpened the main issue surrounding the granting and confirmation of water rights in the Rio Nazas. The Durango owners were few, with older and larger properties more completely developed, and they possessed the oldest water rights. What they needed was assurance and security regarding those water rights, so that their investments would continue to be protected and they could continue to rent out much of their property. Opposing them were the lower-river owners of Coahuila State, who were in need of much more water. The bulk of undeveloped lands lay in their zone, and they would need guaranteed water rights either to put those lands into production or, simply, to speculate in the value of such lands. 8 The federal policy was to try to encourage all cotton producers in the Comarca Lagunera and anywhere else in Mexico. Cotton was one of the commodities most in demand in the country, and it was one that still had to be imported in large quantities. 4 To further complicate the situation, among the many dozens of established water users, four held such large rights5 that they could use most of the river's flow in any given year. Finally, only the general picture of use was known. Some figures were on hand by 1890 reflecting the totals of river flow, but these few figures did not say enough about the river's regime during the year and from one year or decade to the next. It was not safe to use this thin basis of information to guess at a minimum annual yield of the river. Thus it was still impossible for the authorities to assure all users a reasonable minimum of water for their cotton plantings. Yet still more persons and corporations were applying to use water from the Rio Nazas. Would it be reasonable to consider granting any of these new requests? To many experts and other observers in the 1880s and early 1890s, it seemed ridiculous not to be granting further water rights. There had to be some remaining availability during all but the most disastrous years of lowest flow, because anyone could see that in most years some water ran all the way down to be lost in the Laguna Mayran, which spread across the plains below. So it would seem to be impossibly conservative to try to limit the water rights to some total amount expectable during years of least flow. Those years did not come often, or at least not often enough to discourage a continuing expansion of cotton farming by those who already held a water right and more land than they had ever put into production. Billions

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

T LAHUALILO

93

LANDS

r

of gallons of water had gone to waste, and this meant that great amounts of cotton production had been lost because not enough crop was being planted in the Laguna District. It bears emphasizing that the government was still under strong pressure, therefore, to continue its former policy in the Laguna District. This had been, actually, a double policy of granting new applications routinely

94

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Early

Projects

while overlooking the fact that many established users were taking much more water than was theirs by right. The reason why this older "double" policy would not work any longer was that there were so many pressures for expansion of use of the river water. And there was so much extremely nervous uncertainty as to the sufficiency of the flow to meet all recognized rights. During those same years, in Mexico's other river basins, the federal government was still able to go on as before, making an occasional new grant of water right, because even a casual inspection revealed that there was not as yet any pressure against the total water supply available. But the crisis came in the Laguna District when one new user was so obviously and rapidly working up the ability to take such vast amounts of water that other, downstream users might find themselves with nothing at all in most years. This was the situation that first impelled the central government to involve itself — permanently, as it proved—in forceful regulation of the use of water in Mexico's important rivers. How this crisis had gradually come about on the Rio Nazas can be stated briefly. Years before, some of the older, downstream users had simply been granted the right to take the water they would need. This meant they could have any water reaching their lands after flowing over dams further upstream. Those downstream users, therefore, had long lived in a changeable and unpredictable situation. They planted heavily in some years and little in others, depending upon their assumptions as to how much water would come down that year. But now an exceptionally large new operation that had received a water concession in 1888 had begun to take very large amounts of water far up the river. The growing scale of this new operation was what frightened the downstream users. It seemed possible that the government's concession to this new user, the Tlahualilo Company, had been too liberal, and that with the company taking off such an amount of water, availability along the lower stretches of the stream might be considerably diminished in subsequent years. But the facts and the immediate prospect were worse than that. It was daily becoming more obvious that the new corporation was already using water far in excess even of the liberal concession it had received. Indeed, as the company brought more and more land into production and continued with its engineering works, the real question was whether this one user would take off the whole flow of the Rio Nazas and so terminate any cotton cultivation below its own location. While the concession for the Tlahualilo Company was being worked up as a colonization and farming enterprise, the president and congress had been moving in another direction as well, perfecting a law clarifying and strengthening the powers of the federal government in water policy. These two processes had culminated within a day of each other, the waters law

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

95

having been countersigned and made effective on June 5, 1888, and the concession to the Tlahualilo Company taking legal effect on June 6. One of the immediate consequences of the almost simultaneous approval of both the new law and the company's concession was that many of those holding prior water rights in the Rio Nazas applied at once to have those rights confirmed, 6 as was provided for in the new waters law. These riverbank owners, and at various times the state governments of both Durango and Coahuila, had already done whatever they could to steeply reduce or to block altogether the concession for the Tlahualilo Company. 7 They had managed to hold matters up for almost three years since the company's original organization in 1885. But the battle to keep the company out of the water distribution system of the Rio Nazas had failed, and the conflict— now most sharply fought between the company and some owners in Coahuila—would have to be conducted on other lines. Meantime, in the Mexican government itself, approval of the waters law and of the Tlahualilo water right had created bases for further conflict. Seen in the light of later events, this pair of official acts takes on the quality of a dangerous sort of drama. The meeting of such different tendencies in the hall of the congress seems almost like the sudden shearing jolt between two sharp blades, as two swordsmen aim their first strokes and begin to press their attacks against each other. One of these blades, the Tlahualilo concession, was much the more familiar on the scene. It was sharp and strong with the traditional force of long-standing policy. The arm that aimed its strokes was powerful with the high prestige of potent private investment, was coached and backed by public authority, and was urged on by the general desire for greater production, a strong national market, and a productive foreign trade. This blade would make its strokes without much concern for implications or outcomes beyond those desired by the swordsman. At the same moment, however, an antagonist appeared: the newer and formidable power of economic nationalism. If wielded by a strong arm, this new cutting force could more than hold its own, supported by the resourcefulness and endurance to be found in the national executive and legislature. Both adversaries had been brought forward by public authority, with much the same mission in mind for each, and each one intended to do its part in the broad venture to increase the national wealth. Moreover, each was supposed to be of aid in the mission entrusted to the other, although conflict was the more likely result. We do not know whether conflict was intended when the waters law was brought forward only one day before the Tlahualilo concession became operative with the affixing of the minister of development's signature. Putting the law ahead of the concession may have been the federal govern-

96

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Early Projects

merit's intention, given that both documents had been in process of perfection for several years. Later, it was the firm belief of the Tlahualilo managers that some of their enemies in the government had delayed confirmation of the concession just long enough to make it follow the waters law through the congress. However that may have been, contention between these two expressions of policy would begin almost at once and continue throughout a generation or more. As for the waters law and the extent of its exercise, it was limited to boundary and coastal beaches and waters, territorial zones of the oceans, aqueducts built or partially financed by the central government, and any rivers and lakes that could accommodate waterborne communications or that served "throughout their length" as boundaries between two or more of Mexico's states. Within these jurisdictional limits the federal government would police and protect the waters or watercourses. The federal government would now have the power, therefore, to "regulate public and private use" of water in some of Mexico's streams. 8 Special regulations (reglamentos) would be issued to govern each river and lake. Once assembled, such a reglamento would be a corpus of all the existing rights held by persons, municipalities, corporations, and public entities, showing how much water each was entitled to take in a year's time and for which purposes. The reglamento itself would be legally binding and would include specific indications as to how and when the water could be taken by each party. From the beginning the Law of 1888 created both a source of power for the central government and a growing cause of confusion .and concern among property owners and their lawyers and agents. The central government quickly set out to use the law as an instrument in seeking to compose the major and rapidly deepening conflicts among the many water users along the Rio Nazas. This was done in spite of what seems today to have been a fatal weakness at the base of this federal exercise of power. That is, the waters law does not seem to apply to the case of the Rio Nazas, which was not used in waterborne communication, was far from any boundaries or coasts, and did not serve throughout its length as a border between Mexican states. It is impossible to say why some interested party did not at once challenge the legality of federal action that began in the late 1880s in the Laguna District with the waters law as legal sanction. One can merely observe that there was a general desire for solution of the conflicts and problems in the district. Moreover, federal action had begun in a friendly fashion even before passage of the law in June 1888.9 Up to that time the federal authorities had been sending exploratory expeditions into the Nazas basin to discover who the water users were and what the legal basis was in each case. They had also been studying the annual regime of the river, the physical conditions of irrigation works that

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

97

carried water away from the stream, and how much water, more or less, was going unused in good years, in those of average flow, and in "bad" years. And at least one careful survey had been done as a result of the insistence by Coahuila State and by some of the landowners there that the Tlahualilo concession be modified before being confirmed. 10 Now, with this very incomplete information in hand, a small mission of engineers headed by Ing. Ramón de Ibarrola of the Secretaría de Comunicaciones y Obras Públicas was undertaking to look into the usage of river water in much closer detail.11 The objective was to make a master schedule, a binding reglamento, showing who would be authorized to take water from the Rio Nazas, and how much in each case. As in later years, attention at that time was directed only to those properties beginning with San Fernando Dam, because earlier reconnaissance had established that use of the river upstream from that point was minimal. This engineering mission was being sent because efforts had failed to persuade the riverbank owners to gather together and devise their own contractual agreement, which could then have been given official approval and binding force by the central government. Given the lack of progress toward any private agreement, the Ministry of Development felt it to be urgent to produce a reglamento so that the federal executive would know how to proceed with the numerous current requests for grants of water from the Nazas. As he would later do in his long studies of the Rio Atoyac and the Rio Duero, Ibarrola expressed from the first, through his efforts and his memoranda, a very strong belief in the sanctity of established rights. Whatever had already been granted had to be respected, now and in future. Rights should neither be reduced nor expanded by administrative acts of governments. Ibarrola found that all users save the most recent—that one being the Tlahualilo Company, whose concession dated from 1888 —had clear title, because all had been exercising unchallenged use of water for at least ten years. So by provision of the Waters Law of 1888, their rights were perfect, in the sence of prescripción. Ibarrola also understood quite well the "downstream procession" of privilege along the Nazas whereby each user could only expect to see whatever amount of water might come to his property after overflowing all upriver dams. He firmly maintained, too, that the only upper limitations on the right to take water were those to be deduced from the capacity of the extractive facilities that had existed on each property at the time when the waters law had gone into effect in June 1888. So, no owners could be allowed to expand the size of entry chambers, gates, or canals beyond the scope they had shown on the landmark date of June 5, 1888; but likewise, no owner could be limited to a lesser volume than his facilities could have captured on that date. Thus Ibarrola was setting to one side another factor that might have

98

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

come into play in estimating or fixing water rights—namely, the amount of time any owner's canal might stand open to receive the river's flow, ¡barróla pointed out that no such consideration had ever been stated for water rights on the Nazas. The brute fact was that the river brought radically different volumes of flow from year to year, usually during two periods of several weeks each. No attempt had ever been made, however, to apportion water to the various owners in view of the variation of quantity available in successive periods of time. So each owner was always in the position of taking whatever water might come to him, even if that might mean a great deal for some, not enough for others, and nothing at all for a few. Ibarrola recognized that the old system of water rights and water usage was indeed faulty, if one were thinking of the best possible use of the river's flow. No one had ever inquired as to the waste involved where so many canals were poorly designed, badly built, and probably given no maintenance at all. Nobody had worried about the great losses by filtration through the bottoms of canals. Far too many of these waterways were of disproportionately huge dimensions, considering the small areas of land they served. Ibarrola did strongly recommend that all such factors of efficiency and conservation be given full weight when considering new applications—but not then, not in 1890. Only the criteria by which rights existed before June 1888 could be taken into account in making a master schedule for policing those rights with a reglamento for all users to obey. What Ibarrola recommended, and what quickly went into effect with President Diaz's action on June 24, 1891, was a provisional regulation 18 that showed what the 1888 scale of use had been according to the facilities possessed by each user. Ibarrola had figured out the capacity of each canal and had suggested that each be recognized with a right to take as much water as that canal could carry, if that much water could actually be used on lands tributary to that canal. This suggestion recognized the fact, then, that all users (save the most recent, the Tlahualilo Company) had their rights by prescripción, by at least ten years' unchallenged use. The owners had no official documents to show how sizable their works should be or how much water they were permitted to take. So Ibarrola felt it would not be fair to introduce into the picture any new criteria not yet in view at the time the owners achieved their rights by prescripción. Ibarrola was keenly aware how much more preferable it would have been to use several other criteria in specifying the amplitude of each right. One important consideration would have been the extent of land to be watered in each case. Another would have been the coeficiente de riego, the amount of water needed on each hectare of land put to raising a particular crop. But these factors, the engineer believed, were beside the point in 1890, because there was as yet no legal basis for using them. Also, his main

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

99

job was to bring a badly needed degree of order to the whole series of existing water rights. These should not now be altered but rather confirmed. This was the urgent task in 1890. The most Ibarrola could recommend, thus, to improve the situation by innovative measures backed by the waters law were two different requirements. One was that the federal government should specify needed repairs and shaping of canal gates, so as to limit them to the dimensions, capacities, and positions they had possessed in 1888 when the law went into effect. The other, which the central government also followed, was that owners could no longer presume to insist on expanded water rights simply because they were constantly adding to the amount of land in cultivation. If the established owners wished to go on increasing the scale of their agricultural production, they had to recognize in advance that they could not take more and more water, which would now be reserved for other properties downstream. Of course, the best way to deal with this prospect was to census the agricultural lands each owner had had in cultivation in 1888. But there was such strong reason to believe that owners would not cooperate in such an investigation that Ibarrola recommended against it. He put full reliance instead upon the step now provided for in the reglamento whereby each owner's irrigation works would be inspected and restricted according to whatever had been the amplitude in 1888. If this work were carried through, there would be little opportunity for further expansion of use by the existing owners. So far Ibarrola had recommended almost exactly what landowners, industrialists, and municipalities were hoping for—full and permanent confirmation of their rights to take water from the Nazas. In the near future all such rights would be specifically documented, following the provisions of the waters law. Each would then have full confirmation, rather than the mere assertive and traditional basis of usage which had so often been challenged in the past. What then would Ibarrola recommend toward meeting the other needs in view, those of a national economy insufficient for improving production and efficient use of resources? To meet these considerations of public interest, Ibarrola, who was such a staunch defender of private property wherever it existed, took a position with regard to use of the Rio Nazas which would be maintained thereafter. Indeed, federal government policy as it steadily developed over the following century would echo his position here. Ibarrola rested his system for regulation of the Rio Nazas on the view that the republic legally possessed the river itself and all its flow. Accordingly, the government could grant away only the right to take water from the stream. Such water did not become private property until legally removed from the river.

100

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

So Ibarrola maintained that the federal government would be the one to determine all questions bearing on when water could be removed, how much at a time, and how efficiently. The private property right would remain perfect. Each owner would receive his due, in the sense of his proportional part of the available water. That proportional share was indicated by the legal size and other characteristics of the owner's canal of derivation. But the government, henceforward, would administer the river, deciding when the private owners could take water and how much. In this way both private and public interest would be served, the government portioning out whatever amounts of water were available in a given year, week, or day. This blending of private and public right, Ibarrola felt, would best avoid complications that had always arisen from the central uncertainty, the doubt as to when the two annual floods of the Nazas would occur, how strong the flow would be, and how long those "rises" would last in the pattern of slow increase and slow diminution. With absolute uncertainty facing them, upriver owners had frequently opened their canal gates as wide as possible, taking as much water as they could, to the detriment of properties lying below. In some cases those properties farthest downstream received no water whatsoever. Now, Ibarrola's "stage plan," with each canal's volume being known, called for a modified version of the "downstream overflow" system practiced so badly and inefficiently up to 1890. The new system was to be based on the progressive change in volumes of the river's flow. Each property would be permitted to take a different volume of water into its canal as the river rose and, later, as it fell. Larger canals along the upper stretches of the stream would take all the water during earliest stages of rise. Then, as the river ran more strongly, other canals would begin to receive more and more. Limitations placed on the largest canals could be considered reasonable and moderate, because it was clear that they would receive enough water for all the lands they had in cultivation in 1888; they would be fully supplied even in years of medium or average flow. That suited best the historical pattern of rights, these large users being the holders of most antique right. Likewise, all the properties and municipalities on down to the end of the river were more likely to have some water every year, and a great deal whenever there was a heavy flow. The advantage to all owners was that water was likely to come sooner to most of them, and in the moderate quantities their badly built facilities could contain. In the past many of the owners had only seen water in any quantity when the river was running as a veritable torrent. And then it was most difficult to take the flow into canals without danger of damaging or destroying the facilities themselves. Ibarrola's system had one other advantage not seen in the older use of

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

101

the river. His special provisions for years of very small flow were stated as a series of "turns" (tandas) of six days each, during which times only certain canals could receive any water at all. This sharing of usage, which had long existed in Hispanic practice, recognized owners of both large and small rights and assured them that they would receive stated portions at various seasons. In the torrential Rio Nazas, this scheduling of amounts to different owners in turns met one of the local problems very well. That problem had been that one of the dams farthest upstream, San Fernando, was so large that all the lowest stages of river flow had been taken there and spread out into its many derivative canals. With the succession of turns both for years of little flow and for the lowest stages during all years, the yield would be divided among several of the big upriver dams and canals, all of them large in capacity and all holding the oldest legal rights. Ibarrola's suggested reglamento was eminently practical in that it set forth reasonable policies for current and future development of agriculture, processing industries, and population centers, all of which had to base their activities on the unpredictable flow of a torrential river. The policies suggested by field engineers and put into effect in this reglamento of 1891 provided for the extreme cases that seemed to occur so regularly— times of extremely heavy flow, and periods when the river ran disappointingly low. Finally, this reglamento was announced as but a provisional arrangement. The government still hoped, as it had from the first, to proceed as it preferred to do in all major economic policymaking: to have the large entrepreneurs arrive at their own arrangements, which the government could then approve, authorize, or set into law. In this case the reglamento was given the full force of law. But it was to be only a stopgap measure to serve until the riverbank owners of rights could be persuaded to make more permanent arrangements. There was one deranging factor in the Nazas situation with which Ibarrola's recommendations could not cope. This urgent consideration, in fact, may have brought on Ibarrola's mission in the first place: the fact of the Tlahualilo Company's new rights. These promised to be exercised on a vast scale, and the concession had not placed any limit whatever on the company's use of water. 13 But the root of this problem ran deeper. The fact was that even before the reglamento took effect, the company was far exceeding the maximum suggested by the size of its original facilities. As but one detail, the company, beginning with official permission to build a wing dam part way across the river, 14 was now extending that barrier all across the stream. And the canal the company was digging would be able to divert all the water passing into that dam. In the government's view such facts as these indicated that the com-

102

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

pany's concession was not yet in force. That is, a concession of this kind would only have to take effect when the specified engineering works had been completed and had passed government inspection. Those provisions were crucial in any of the concessions granted late in the nineteenth century, because so many concessionaires failed at the final stage to obtain the necessary financing and thereby to get into production at all. The government needed to be able to cancel all such incompleted permits so as to devote the resources to someone else who would be able to follow through and show results. In this case, of course, the important added factor was that the whole matter of establishing a reglamento was supposed to have the effect of quieting everyone's uncertainties about availability of water. Ibarrola could not deal with this problem in 1890. In the reglamento he simply provided for includng the Tlahualilo Company's canal in his system of water distribution. He left exact volumes for the Tlahualilo canal to be determined in future. In the dramatic sense, the two blades had flashed through the air and were now grating together again. On the one hand Ibarrola could reasonably assume that the waters law would give the central government whatever defense it might need against excessive use of water by the company. First, no more water could be taken than indicated by the size, location, and other crucial characteristics specified in the company's concession. And it would not be hard to discover the scope of land in the company's possession at the time it had received its concession. Here were the guides to federal settlement of the company's water right—and in view of both criteria, that water right would be large but by no means unlimited. On the other hand, from its actions at the time, it seems clear that the company was proceeding from different assumptions, which might have been considered eminently reasonable only a few years earlier. The objective in view in the concession was to colonize irrigated land, and for this purpose the company was to hold a large water right in the Nazas. No limitation had been placed on either the amount of water to be used or the extent of land to be involved. So the company seemed to be proceeding as quickly as possible, and on the largest possible scale, to reach its objectives. More land was purchased to add to the extensive piece the company already owned. Huge derivation facilities were under construction to lead river water to that land. And if the company seemed to be overlooking the fact that it was not a riverbank owner—and only such owners could take water from a stream—that problem could also be dealt with: the company bought the Hacienda de San Fernando on the Rio Nazas in 1891 "to acquire riverside property, establish legal control of the mouth of its canal, and gain 'riparian' water rights" as well as to gain a right prior to that of lower-river users much farther down the stream. 15 Thus the old, small

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

103

right of the hacienda could be added to the concessionary rights gained by the company in 1888 to justify, in combination, the use of a large percentage of all water in the Rio Nazas. The hacienda's part of the river flow amounted to but 22.5 percent of the total shown in the reglamento of 1891, and the company needed and wanted much more than that. By private arrangement with President Diaz himself, the company could now be sure of both water rights—that from the concession, and now also that of the Hacienda de San Fernando. 16 So, when a "great scarcity of water" caused serious agricultural losses from 1891 to 1893, many other owners urged upon the government the view that the company's rights had grown too great to accommodate those of all others who were trying to raise cotton with Rio Nazas water. This situation provided the background for the next major event, the drawing of a revised reglamento that in 1895 would seriously reduce the Tlahualilo Company's water right. As seen from this long remove in time, and without full awareness of many of the basic facts involved or even of the range of assumptions and expectations on the part of economic nationalists and private entrepreneurs, it seems that events were moving too rapidly and from original bases in fear and misunderstanding. There was no forum in which all parties would meet to compromise the serious issues. And if the antagonists of greatest power were by now the federal government and the company, it seems that both were too eager to get ahead with their activities and were not deeply enough concerned with staying within the limits of the laws. The company was already operating far beyond the limitations set by its concession and had not yet complied with requirements set forth in it. For their part, the federal authorities may already have stepped well beyond the boundaries of their jurisdiction as stated in the Waters Law of 1888. They were probably applying the law in the case of a river to which it did not apply. These imperfections in approach would continue to cause feelings of moral superiority on both sides of the growing conflict between government and company. And to add to the misunderstandings and bad feelings, the government was no longer talking with a single voice. President Diaz's private assurances to the company would not be echoed by the public acts of the government of which he was the leader. For instance, after 1891 the government took emphatic action to assure that the new reglamento would be enforced to the letter. That new regulation called for the important and novel step of locating federal engineers in the Laguna District to carry out regular inspections and to give any necessary orders to keep the system working properly. 17 These engineers would closely supervise the varying river flow so that the system of "stages" and "turns" would be observed by all parties. Canal and other works would be

104

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

inspected so as to be brought to prescribed states of efficiency and to ensure that no dimensions were expanded illegally. Supervision and inspection at the sites would, it was hoped, speed the day when the owners would be able to receive their documents of confirmation of water rights. Whether Ibarrola had foreseen it or not, the additional need to monitor the amounts of water entering various canals soon arose. Some rapid means of notifying canal tenders was necessary to make sure that each one would alter the intake aperture of the canal as the river's flow moved from one stage to another or as the moment came for one of the turns to begin or to end. How these arrangements were first dealt with, between 1891 and 1895, is not known. The field party did not then have permanent accommodations, nor was there any communication network connecting the engineers with the canal tenders. By 1894, however, it was clear that more elaborate facilities were required if the federal supervisory work was to be carried out as envisaged in the reglamento of 1891. By then, too, there were other and more pressing reasons to revise the reglamento. The urgency in the situation was still occasioned by the operations of the Tlahualilo Company. The disagreements between company and government now spread over a broad range of political, public interest, and property right issues which both the Diaz administration and the company wished to resolve quickly and permanently. The company believed that its ability to raise capital was being threatened by government delay in confirming the 1888 concession. The government saw the company's delay in taking up its full scale of operation as prolonging the problems and uncertainties that were to have been quieted by the reglamento of 1891. To the problems created by the company in extending its scale of water use, one more was now added. The company's canal was supposed to stand at a certain height above the riverbed so that it would not receive water while the river ran low. But now the canal floor had been dug down to riverbed level, so that the Tlahualilo canal received all the flow of the stream even at low stages. The company was arguing that this change was proper because of the company's purchase both of the Hacienda de San Fernando and of its dam, from which the company's canal departed. The corporation insisted on taking all the water it "needed," because it could now use both water rights—the concessionary one dating from 1888 and the old hacienda's privilege acquired in 1891. In any case, the Tlahualilo managers pointed to the fact that their 1888 concession simply stated that the company could have the water it "needed." To these facts and arguments the federal government had been responding by allowing the company temporary use of water, while continuing to insist upon compliance with all conditions shown in the 1888 concession.

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

105

The Tlahualilo Company would receive confirmation of its water right only when in compliance with all those engineering provisions. And, insofar as using the rights of the Hacienda de San Fernando was concerned, the government steadily maintained that the hacienda's water could not be diverted into the service of lands that lay far from the river's bank and that had never been part of the hacienda. In effect the government was offering confirmation of the company's water right as indicated in the concession of 1888 —but only if the company showed that it would be bound by the government's regulatory arrangements. The Tlahualilo Company would have to abide by all provisions dating from 1888, limitations on total water use specified in 1891, and any administrative orders issued by the Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas after 1891. None of the alternatives facing President Diaz by 1894 were pleasing ones. The objective was to bring all the owners together in an arrangement of their own making, but one owner was not only playing a lone hand against the government but also making many of the other owners nervous and resentful. At this point the government could simply have insisted upon compliance, and in default of cooperation by the company it could have refused to let the company have any water at all. Or the government could have tried to work a new and more binding law through the congress. In the worst case, the government could have brought suit against the company and against any other owners who had proved to be in defiance of the Waters Law of 1888. But the most likely means of suasion for the government to use was the one most plausible and least controversial: to revise the reglamento of 1891 in view of many imperfections of procedure that had become obvious since 1891. This was the question to which the federal authorities now turned: If to revise the reglamento was the least troublesome step to take, how radical should that revision be? The most tempting step would have been to recast the water distribution system to conform with all the best practices and considerations indicated by modern agronomy. In that case the water going to each owner would have been exactly the amount needed locally to grow cotton in that owner's lands. In the Laguna District in those days the amount needed per hectare was believed to be about 32,000 liters for the first watering, and about 2,500 for the second. Careful study and best practice might well reduce those amounts in time. All engineering works could sooner or later be brought to the best possible state. Furthermore, the whole system could be closely observed and corrected in detail by government employees—canal keepers, engineers, agronomists, and secretarial staff. Only in this way could best use of water and maximum cotton production be relatively well assured. This would also allow a force of effective laborers to remain on the scene throughout the year working the cotton, with the great gain that

106

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

might come to them with permanent, year-round jobs. Only so, too, could predictable emergencies, such as a sudden need for water in one of the municipal systems, become nothing more than a matter of temporarily adjusting a flow. Legal authority for such modernized control of the river's regime was probably already there in the Law of June 5, 1888 —if, that is, the Rio Nazas did indeed come within federal jurisdiction at all. That residual doubt was not yet of prime concern in the government's planning, and it would not be dealt with for some years to come. By 1894, however, it was still too soon for all the serious shifts of viewpoint necessary for acceptance of strong federal control both of water distribution and of agricultural production. That would come, but not for more than half a century. In 1894 the government chose to take one long step forward toward such dominance, although still avoiding many aspects of absolute power. The resultant regulatory document, the reglamento of 1895,18 produced in detail during 1894 by the newly created Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas and with Ramón de Ibarrola still in charge, 19 did tighten government control and did confront the problem of fitting the Tlahualilo Company into the picture. The new reglamento did not, however, provide for the government to operate the canals or their intakes, nor did it attempt any such radical redistribution of amounts of water as would have occurred in following the most efficient pattern of agricultural production planning. Now that the government's engineers had observed the river for three years, and now that they had inspected all canal intakes repeatedly, the permissible amounts of water for each were adjusted. But the only major change in rights was to insert the Tlahualilo Company into the distribution system along with all the other users. This was done by assuming that the company had been the latest to acquire rights. It could therefore take only the "excess" waters, after others were receiving or had received their just due. This was in accord with exact wording in the company's concession of 1888. The big Tlahualilo canal would be served only when the river was running very strongly. Then the company's canal could take every bit of the "excess" flow. Beyond this one sensational change, other new aspects of the reglamento of 1895 strengthened the government's hand. The engineers would have the information they needed for speedy and effective decisions that could keep the whole system working well. The Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas was to have permanent quarters at Villa Lerdo. It would be connected with all canal sites by telephone. Soon, it was hoped, headquarters would have continuous automatic indication of the flow of water at all canal intakes. No owner would ever again be allowed to open canal gates fully. All must comply with the maximum intake volumes called for in the

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

107

schedules of stages corresponding with intervals in the river's rise and fall. The engineer-in-chief at Villa Lerdo was given considerable power to make decisions without question: no need to refer to the minister of development at Mexico City. Modification of the schedules could be made by the Ministry of Communications. No owner could transfer his water right to another party. Nobody could ever take water directly from the riverbed; everyone had to use the known and legal intake facilities. Thus, one provision looking toward agricultural efficiency was strengthened. Now if water were not to be used for the purpose specified for a given property, it had to be left in the river for the benefit of other users, to help in fulfilling the stage and turn provisions stated in the reglamento. No doubt, all the added powers and controls in this new reglamento were needed for effective administration of the system. These powers were now in the hands, however, of but a few engineers, whose information was still incomplete and whose authority was still unproved in many minds. As for the thorniest aspect of this river's management—how to deal with rogue activities and attitudes of the Tlahualilo Company—Ibarrola's revised schedule of water rights, for which he had argued in a memorandum of July 4, 1894, made out a strong case that the government was acting most moderately toward the company. Ibarrola preferred, rather than barring that corporation from the river altogether, to bring the Tlahualilo canal into the distribution system in a small way whenever the river rose to medium stage of flow. From then on, as the flow became stronger, the canal would receive proportionately more water. If the river rose far enough, the company would receive a great deal of the flow. In arguing for this change Ibarrola showed how he could justify the idea of permitting the company a reasonably large water right without expense to other users. His totals for all legal rights in the Nazas, as exercised up to the time of the law of June 1888 showed all those rights would be met by a flow of 300 cubic meters per second. When the river ran still more strongly, which it often did, the company could reasonably begin to be included among the users. And Ibarrola was convincing in arguing that the distribution of water could only be made in view of one factor: the amount flowing at a given moment. He dared not try to state rights as a combination of volume of flow and time—as, for instance, twenty-five liters per second for six hours. This was not safe to attempt because periods of high water varied so much from year to year, both as to the amounts coming down and as to the time the river took to rise, peak, and fall. This argument by Ibarrola included a couple of elements he had not mentioned in 1890 in proposing the original reglamento. First, he had a reason for insisting that all rights dated prior to those of the company be met fully before the company took any water at all. He hoped to encourage

108

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Early Projects

all the owners to produce more cotton, and he wanted them to use all the water available to them in cultivating more land than they had had under crops in 1888. Some owners had not farmed much land at all at that time, but now that they held confirmed water rights, they could put more land into production quickly. Ibarrola hoped that this would be the easiest way to higher production: to encourage those owners already familiar with and equipped for the work. To the ministry's question in this regard as to whether the Tlahualilo Company would not thus be left without water in some years, Ibarrola gave two responses. First he said yes, let it be so. The company's 1888 concession clearly foresaw a situation in which the Tlahualilo properties would use only "excess" waters. In some years there would be no excess. And, second, Ibarrola saw how likely it was that the company would receive water every year. After all, this new reglamento of 1895 called upon owners to close their canal gates once they had the waters they needed. So there would be a much better chance that "excess" water would be available for the Tlahualilo canal. Ibarrola clinched this point by noting the weakness contained in the ministry's countersuggestion to him. The ministry's idea was to raise the Tlahualilo canal's floor so that the company would find it literally impossible to dip into the river illegally. But Ibarrola recommended that the canal floor remain at riverbed level after all. Then water considered to be "excess" could start entering that canal at the earliest possible time after others had received their due. Ibarrola wanted the corporation to have full use of the only resource it legally deserved, those "excess" waters of the Rio Nazas. As in 1890, so again in 1894 Ibarrola carried his major points, which appeared in the reglamento of 1895. The schedules showed that the Tlahualilo canal would take water when other upriver canals were already receiving their allowable maxima. Should the river continue to rise and all downstream properties receive their maximum flows, the Tlahualilo canal could then take still more. Should the rise continue still, the Tlahualilo could then take whatever it could carry, as long as that very high stage still continued. Nonetheless, this liberality toward the company was matched by stricter limitations as well, the need for which had become clear in closer observation of the river since 1890. That is, during times of very low water, when turns were being taken by the great upriver canals, the Tlahualilo would not take part at all. As William K. Meyers sees it, this reglamento of 1895 represents a crucial decision by the central government for future economic production in the Comarca Lagunera. As one of the "upper-river" owners, the corporation simply had not produced cotton on the scale desired. It had suffered

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

109

financial reorganization and other difficulties. But as for the downstream properties, the "government recognized the development potential of the lower river area and its policy from 1895 was an attempt to stimulate greater cotton production by guaranteeing the lower river owners an equitable and proportional share of the Nazas water." 80 The government's policies for the Rio Nazas would now be based upon the assumption not merely that the company had failed to produce crops as expected but that its operations "had become an obstacle to maximizing agricultural production in the Laguna."' 1 This 1895 reglamento was not the end of revisions in management arrangements for the river, and a few new rights would be granted in years to come. But since the next crisis in the Laguna District did not occur until 1909, and since the intervening years were busy mainly with strife within the company, and between it and Mexico's federal government along lines already clear to both, we will turn to other important cases of federal intervention in river basin management. All these early forays by the federal authorities were undertaken as matters of urgency. They were hurried, incomplete, and often painfully unsatisfactory to the engineers on the scene. Nevertheless, they launched the government of Mexico into policies still being pursued in our own time. Several times in the ensuing years the federal government entered into other conflicts concerning water uses and rights. Always the government assumed the powers supposedly granted by the law of June 5, 1888. This was the practice even though the law seems not to support the government's sweeping assumption of power in those cases. Indeed, for the Rio Nazas and its near neighbor, the Aguanaval, as for the Rio Atoyac in the state of Puebla, the Duero-Tangancicuaro in Michoacán, and others, the federal authorities may at the time have had no clear power of intervention or regulation. Why the federal government did intervene in those instances is not entirely clear. The most likely reason is that the government felt bound to answer calls for help which were coming from important investors in very large enterprises seeking security in their use of water.1* Such enterprisers were projecting or already building up important operations in irrigation agriculture, hydroelectric power, or industrial production. In other words, the federal government did not simply set out on its own initiative to apply its power in a number of Mexican river basins picked at random. Rather, for a dozen years or more the central government used the 1888 law to cover occasional and emphatic exercise of power in behalf of expanding economic enterprises as well as to reduce confusion that sometimes became so acute as to threaten to result in political turbulence. Eventually, the uncertainty about the legality of the government's activi-

110

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

ties in river basin control became too important to continue to overlook. Ways were found to give legal respectability to administrative policies the federal authorities had been carrying on for years. First a new law was written; but, finally, a fragment of the federal constitution had to be revised so as to quiet the cries of opponents of the water regulation policies. Until that day came, the river courses that were of most urgent and serious interest in the eyes of the central government were simply taken under its wing. This was done first and in fullest measure in the Laguna District, and elsewhere only partially or tentatively, as seemed advisable. And the bounds of federal intervention and management were probably also set by annual budgetary limitations, which reflected only moderate increases in the cadres of government experts on the job. Moreover, budgeting for river basin management was also restrained by the government's policy of spending heavily for a variety of public works in the Federal District, some of which were utilitarian while others were of an aesthetic and monumental kind intended to adorn Mexico City itself.

IN THE ST A TE OF PUEBLA As far as we now know, the second case of federal intervention in any river basin outside the Federal District arose in regard to the Rio Atoyac and associated streams. Many haciendas' rights had been established there in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and so had some small municipal privileges. All of these were still in use. During the 1890s a number of factories and power generation projects had also gained concessions for use of river water, M and in all likelihood the municipalities were making increasing use of water, whether they had any legal right to it or not. Dissatisfaction and concern arose because many landowners and industrialists were sure that others were abusing rights. As late as 1898 the regulatory office (known as the Fifth Section) in the Secretaría de Fomento, Colonización e Industria, indicated how unsatisfactory the situation had become. The head of the section, Ing. Manuel R. Vera, explained that he could not make even a stab at giving a competent opinion on the viability of one of the new applications. The problem was that the section's records were far too incomplete to reflect the amplitudes of water use within that river basin. And the application Vera was looking at was not helpful to him. The facts in it were too incomplete to show whether the engineering works the applicant intended to build could or could not satisfy the tasks in view for them. Vera nonetheless recommended granting the concession, if only because it involved power generation, and water would therefore be returned to the stream.* 4

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

111

One of the difficulties was that the granting agency had no idea of the total volumes of water available in the different rivers. Another problem was that there was mounting evidence to the effect that some owners were pirating water from others. Moreover, adding to this situation were occasional unexpected shortages of water. Although these brief emergencies were not yet damaging in any serious way, they heralded a new situation. Many different uses for water were occurring in different seasonal rhythms. The farmer, the municipal council, and the owner of a power plant or factory all had to make use of a good deal of water at certain given times; and some of these uses might interfere with others. To deal with such problems the obvious first step would have been a careful inspection of the zone. And, still, Section Five of the Ministry of Development did not have enough staff on hand to spare one engineer for the trip to that river basin in the state of Puebla. What seems to have happened first of all was that the ministry borrowed an engineer from another government agency at some time in 1897. But he had no luck at all in his role as inspecting engineer trying to validate water rights and to find out who was using how much water for which purposes. 15 Property owners did not answer his queries, and nothing useful was learned about the possibilities for granting new concessions in any of the streams. Nonetheless, the federal government had to do something about this river system. A new, very well-to-do concessionaire had received permission, in 1895, to use about two-thirds of the water of the Rio Atoyac in irrigation agriculture and for power generation. It was not so much the size of the concession that created problems as it was some other features that the federal authorities could not deal with from afar. One difficulty was the fact that the water for this new concessionaire, Sebastián B. de Mier,*6 was granted to him in the Rio Atoyac but would be taken farther down in the Rio Nexapa. The question was whether this was indeed a practicable arrangement in view of existing rights in both those streams. The other puzzle was the one raised by Mier himself as to whether other users were illegally taking away such large amounts of water that his power generation project would not be able to rely upon a steady flow such as his concession promised to him. 27 Mier had raised this question about his neighbors' use of river water as early as 1894. He was tactful but persistent, and his was not a question anyone in Mexico City could answer. As in the confused situation in the Comarca Lagunera, so also here in the state of Puebla a moment came for emphatic federal intervention. The Secretaría de Fomento borrowed a very well-known engineer, Ramón de Ibarrola, from the Secretaría de Comunicaciones y Obras Públicas, and asked him to do a survey of the state of things all along the Rio Atoyac, the Nexapa, and other tributary streams. Meantime, the minister of develop-

112

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

ment had obtained an opinion from the Secretaría de Comunicaciones y Obras Públicas to the effect that the lower courses of the Atoyac did indeed come within federal jurisdiction and could be regulated by the Ministry of Development's people." Ramón de Ibarrola was now in the field with the task of verifying whether the concessionaire, Sebastián B. de Mier, did in fact have enough water available to him. What Ibarrola found in this first quick visit was a veritable tangle of supposed water rights—a serious situation of both invasions of rights and misuse of resources by individuals, municipalities, and corporations. He was not one to make light work of such a seemingly simple job as arriving at an opinion for one complainant. Nor was he a person who would underestimate the difficulty of the task should he decide to try to unravel the mysteries in the whole situation. Indeed, he saw that to do so would not be "the work of but one individual." So he came back to Mexico City and eventually arranged to talk the matter over with President Porfirio Díaz, gaining his consent to the creation of a field staff and to the carrying out of a very thorough study of all the rights and uses in the Atoyac drainage. 89 Ibarrola was now in possession of broad responsibilities. He was to verify all legal titles, inspect all current uses to be sure none was excessive, and recommend repair or construction of engineering works wherever they might be needed to ensure that no user would exceed his due. All legal and engineering data would fit together in a master reglamento for the river system. When Ibarrola did return to the field in 1899 it was with a new awareness of one further complicating factor in the situation. Looking at all available papers in several ministry files at Mexico City, Ibarrola had discovered that this river system was probably an extremely rare case. During the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, much care had been taken to grant and describe water rights with great precision. Coupled with this detailed record was the fact that all those antique rights were still in force and still in use, most of them on haciendas and a few in municipalities. One of the first tasks for the regulatory commission, then, would be to discover whether these oldest holders of right were receiving what they should have. Or had they become accustomed to scooping out more than their portions as granted in 1560, or in 1635, or at various times during the confirmation proceedings of the 1700s?SG Ibarrola had to proceed carefully and in a most gingerly manner. In those days it was the government's style to be very solicitous of the feelings of owners. They had to be asked to show their legal titles or, alternatively, to prove that they had for ten or more years been making unchallenged use of river water. If they did, they would qualify for rights on the basis of prescripción. Whatever the owners might say about all that, however, it would

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

113

still be necessary for the engineers to gain their permission to visit the water works in each case. How much water had been in use recently? Were the works in usable condition? Were these facilities efficient for the purposes? So Ibarrola was soon asking for more help from the ministry. By keeping at it he built up a sizable team in the field. Thousands of hours of skilled work went into field exploration, visiting properties, measuring stream

114

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

flows, and studying all available historical records and other documents. The work went slowly, with great care, probably because of the personal attitude of the chief of this commission. He had serious doubts as to whether the federal government should be doing such things as spying out the whole water potential of a river system or whether the authorities should be checking on legitimacy and proper use of all private rights. Beyond such novel activities Ing. Ibarrola thought he saw the shadow of something even more innovative and improper: the possibility that the federal government would move on to make decisions altering private rights themselves. He was correct as to the mood of the moment. There was a strong desire to obtain production, to see the economy expand and develop so as to show significant results. As with recent federal policies regarding railroads and banking, the central government was inclined to begin infringing on rights wherever those seemed to be protecting mere inactivity rather than effective use of resources. It was as if the spirit of economic gain of twenty years before had arisen once more in a somewhat different form. Then, almost a generation earlier, the drive had been toward installing a national communication system. That had been the push for a railroad network such as could stimulate all sorts of economic activity and conjure forth a domestic market across all Mexico. Now, in the 1890s, it was known that railroads alone had not done the job of creating a modern economy. Nor would the mining industry, backed by railroads, be enough. The present focus was on those means that would quickly bring about production; and water policies were to the fore. So Ibarrola proceeded carefully, to be absolutely sure he did not understate or overlook anyone's legal rights. He tried to find out exactly the volumes of water that had been allowed to each grantee in those early colonial allocations and in the eighteenth-century inspections, compositions, and confirmations. But here he ran across an insoluble problem: he could not find a way to state volumes or total quantities as these had been given in colonial times. At that early day the only consideration had been the size of the opening that took water from the river. No record had been made, and seemingly no attention given, to the speed of flow as water went through those privately owned entry chambers and on down the canals. Ibarrola soon found that the difference between maximum and minimum speeds of flow could make a threefold difference in the total quantity of water a user might receive in a year's time along the Rio Atoyac. Therefore it meant little or nothing to discover that the openings (tomas) into the canals were all of the correct dimensions as specified in A.D. 1635. Ibarrola, in fact, confirmed his suspicion that the size of an opening had little or no relation to the total amount of water carried into a property each year. One owner, with a canal of very large aperture, but into which water passed very

1. T h e yeoman pinned Oswald,

Ranchero, that sturdy u p o n w h o m Liberals t h e i r h o p e s . (F. L . Summerland Sketches)

2. Railroads now played a n i m p o r t a n t p a r t in t h e economy, a n d they already b r o u g h t tourists f r o m t h e U n i t e d States. (Courtesy History Division, Los A n g e l e s C o u n t y M u s e u m of N a t u r a l History)

3. T h e Thin Gray Line: Rural police (rurales) keeping order so that the country might prosper. (Courtesy History Division, Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History)

4. City water supply before underground piping: Guadalajara, early 1890s. (Charles F. Lummis photo, courtesy Southwest Museum, Los Angeles, California)

6. A Dam and Encarnación Railroad Bridge, about 1885. (Library of Congress, W. H.Jackson photograph)

LA GRAN CALAVERA I D E

EMILIA ITO ZAPATA

j

L a calavera con dientes, Q u e le «lice al g r a n nmtón: ; f b a y reala,no te revientes, Q u é e » el p r i m e r j a l ó n / A*{ « ¿ « t a l * Ziiwtaú Y un jrnl!.. ••• • ;Tc ha» cu fio t > reato, l'ti'H pi In inerte otutbìò! ¿Oue (HUII»»; i" quó i WK UorradiWlw, Y »u Ipphc» In formaba Pii lil'ditli» do cülatvraSii : ¡Ñu te arruguen, «urri» nejo. Qi tequiar.» pi Umli-ir'.

,Y two e* darl*

s

1 «mi« 'ti

l,o diftiin duro j toftd • Y hub» «io « boli lielnZ"» Muni rmi pi» la wfrtosa Ma* gelili*« que pii Marilù' /,.i|ial.< .loc a: jO..« j.iBf(*t ;i>«Hnia > memi-ut • ' » *

7. At the Edge of the Storm: A Mexico City printmaker's view of Zapata's uprising in the state of Morelos. (Copyright 1982, Denver Art Museum)

8. At the Edge of the Storm: President Porfirio Diaz busy in trying to defuse the Revolution. (Brown Brothers)

9. At the Edge of the Storm: Rural police protecting the railways as the Revolution rose. (Courtesy Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas)

10. At the Edge of the Storm: With Madero's Revolution. (Humanities Research Center, University of Texas at Austin)

11. Francisco I. Madero, son of a wealthy family in Coahuila State, and manager of their cotton properties. (Aultman Collection, El Paso Public Library).

12. Yaqui women and children being removed forever from their Valley: early 1900s. (By permission T h e Huntington Library, San Marino, California)

13. One more attempt to co-opt the Yaqui Indian resistance: Tetabiate and Col. Francisco C. Peinado at the "Peace" at Ortiz Station, Sonora, May 15, 1897. (By permission T h e Huntington Library, San Marino, California)

r

*

THMBptl H S

• J l

14. C. Gral, de División D. Porfirio Díaz, Sr. Presidente de la República (Citizen a n d L i e u t e n a n t General Porfirio Díaz, Esq., President of Mexico), 1 8 7 6 - 1 8 8 0 , 1884-1911. (Courtesy Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas)

16. C. Lic. y Ing. Olegario Molina, Señor Secretario del Ramo y del Despacho de Fomento, Colonización e Industria (Citizen Olegario Molina, Attorney-at-Law and Graduate Engineer, Secretary of Development), 1907-1911: land magnate in the State of Yucatán and agent of the International Harvester Company. (Library of Congress)

15. José Yves Limantour, Mexico's Secretary of the Treasury and Presid e n t Diaz' closet advisor, 1 8 9 3 1911. (Library of Congress)

17. Another man to see for sound advice, w h e n investing a million dollars in Mexico: A n d r é s Aldasoro, Subsecretary of the Developm e n t Ministry. (Percy F. Martin, Mexico of the Twentieth Century)

18. A n s o n Mills, a U.S. Army officer, for many years U.S. Comm i s s i o n e r in t h e I n t e r n a t i o n a l B o u n d a r y Commission (Waters), United States and Mexico, whose plan for an international dam was acceptable on both sides of the El Paso—Ciudad Juárez Valley of the Rio Grande (photographed some years earlier). (The National Archives of the United States, print lll-SC-90933)

19. U.S. A m b a s s a d o r David E. Thompson, a self-made man who made still more money in Mexico. He worked effectively for policies he thought wise for both nations. So, when Knox's team put pressure on Mexico, he d u g in his heels. (Nebraska Historical Society)

20. Philander C. Knox, U.S. Secretary of State, who expected Latin American governments to act respectably. (Library of Congress)

21. Henry Lane Wilson, U.S. Ambassador to Mexico who tried to make Mexicans see reason. (Library of Congress)

22.

Railway along the Rio Lerma, early 1890s. (T. L. Rogers, Mexico? Si, Sefior)

23. West Coast Transport beyond the railhead: stage from Sonora coast to the Rio Yaqui. (By permission T h e Huntington Library, San Marino, California)

24. Palacio de Bellas Artes, Mexico City (1910), destined to house paintings by Mexico's most prestigious artists. (Library of Congress)

25. A M o d e r n Convenience: the Tram in Mexico City at t h e Palacio N a c i o n a l , e a r l y 1890s. (Charles F. Lummis photo, courtesy Southwest M u s e u m , Los A n g e l e s , California)

26. Andrés Molina Enríquez, bureaucrat, author, and a conservative and realistic analyst of Mexico's agricultural problems. (By permission of the Estate of Anita Brenner; from her work The Wind That Swept Mexico)

27. I n g . D. R o b e r t o Gayol, a highly-respected consulting engineer and professor with a realistic view of Mexico's agricultural society and economy. (Courtesy T h e Hispanic Society of America; reproduced from Justo Sierra, México, su evolución social [1902])

28. Ing. Fernando Beltrân y Puga, first-rate field engineer in the Development Ministry; Inspector de Aguas; Mexico's Commissioner in the International Boundary Commission (Waters), United States and Mexico, 1906-1914; chief of the Irrigation Division after 1920. He was quick, i n t e l l i g e n t , tireless, a n d equipped with a short fuse. (Anson Mills, My Story [Washington, D.C., 1908])

29. Enrique Creel, governor of C h i h u a h u a State 1906-1908, too involved in Mexico City politics to be sensitive to Chihuahua's interests in the U.S.-Mexico boundary rivers. (Courtesy of the Bancroft Library, Berkeley)

30. J o h n Bassett Moore, celebrated authority of international law and advisor to the U.S. State D e p a r t m e n t , which d i s r e g a r d e d his doctrine as it might apply to the Tlahualilo case. (Library of Congress)

31. Edward L. Doheny (1931), who f o u n d a b o n a n z a in e x t r a c t i n g a n d selling Mexican p e t r o l e u m . (Library of Congress)

32. Weetman Pearson, first Lord Cowdray (at right), English enterpriser, Mexican pet r o l e u m developer, and fast f r i e n d of P r e s i d e n t D i a z . (Brown Brothers)

33.-36. Prices rose, supplies of food were slim, and the work went on sixteen hours each day. (Lefthand page, Library of Congress; righthand page, courtesy History Division, Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History)

37. Ladling out food to two hundred peones, at Hacienda Peotillos during hard times in the early 1890s. (T. L. Rogers, Mexico? Si,Senor)

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

115

slowly, took less than half the volume used by another owner whose canal had a much smaller opening but received rapid flow. Accordingly, Ibarrola decided it would be fruitless to try to adjust the sizes of the openings. To do so would not approximate the scopes of the original rights distributed in 1635. And he found a law of 1863 forbidding public authority to adjust things in this way, where no proofs could be brought to show exactly how much water had run through a given opening during a stated period of time. 51 Furthermore, Ibarrola deduced that it would not be fair to grant annual water totals to different owners in proportion to the sizes of openings of their canals, because some owners would lose heavily by that kind of allotment. So, rather than penalizing some so heavily and others little if not at all, the chief of the commission gave up all attempts to fix annual volumes for the Atoyac-Nexapa users. Once satisfied that each was using an opening of the size specified in 1635, he simply listed the maximum amounts of water habitually used by these riverbank owners from year to year during the late 1800s. Thus each right would be sufficiently recognized and assured. He felt sure that rights so clearly and liberally stated could not later be infringed or reduced by any offhand administrative action in some government agency. This early stage of work proceeded with the help of one civil engineer and two topographers. But Ibarrola soon doubled the size of his party, and the work ground on in painful detail for several years. Members of the team checked historical records against contemporary facts, gathered large amounts of data through field reconnaissance and the use of instruments, and interviewed many landowners and other local people. The objective was to assemble and cross-check whatever facts would be needed to reveal a completely realistic understanding of how the river system was being used — and whether there could be said to be unassigned water still flowing. Applications were still coming in, and it would be highly desirable to be able to grant some or all of them. Ibarrola's work on the Rio Atoyac and on the Matamoros (Los Molinos), Nexapa, and Cantarranas went on so long that the Ministry of Development several times obliged him to lend engineers to other projects and once to take on a new and urgent case. That additional case took Ibarrola almost across Mexico, moving his commission temporarily into the state of Michoacàn to examine the situation along the Rio Duero and tributary streams. There, a new applicant felt he had reason to assert that people living in and around the Once Pueblos district were taking much more water than justified in law. Ibarrola brought with him two engineers and a provisional—Salvador Toscano, Francisco Tamariz Oropesa, and José Martinez—and his report on the situation along the upper Rio Duero was submitted in 1902. That paper indicated that neither binding nor continuous regulation of

116

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

all water uses would yet be necessary on the Duero. The river's expectable flow was not yet nearly committed in its totality. The prospective hydroelectric projects, presumably those of the Compania de Guanajuato which would eventually extend as far afield as the cities of Guanajuato, Salamanca, and Leon, could therefore proceed. In carrying through these two projects in Puebla and Michoacan, Ibarrola relied upon his own extensive experience as a consulting engineer dealing with suspicious people. For instance, whenever he encountered purposeful anarchy among property owners, he tended to suspect that legal water uses were probably being exceeded, and perhaps by a large proportion of all the owners. He would send field parties particularly into those areas from which data were not forthcoming from the owners. And as for new applications for hydroelectric power generation, he expected to find that at least some of the entrepreneurs were overstating their needs, if only to be sure of enough water at all times. So Ibarrola found it most useful to deal with all these people directly, but only with enough specific facts in hand. He would be more successful in persuading them not to overprovide their properties with illegal intakes and dams, or with facilities made unnecessarily capacious, by sitting down to show them a complete picture of existing uses and how they could all fit together within the known scope of resources available. Only with all the facts at his disposal, he felt, could he ever hope to calm the fears of legally inclined people as well as those others who had been living beyond the law. Here must have been the reason why Ibarrola kept his people at work so long in the Atoyac region. He needed to have representative measurements of the rivers' total flows and precise knowledge of each derivation in each stream. He and his aides measured the flow in some fifty-one canals of the Atoyac and four other rivers so as to be sure that the allocations they would suggest could be reatlistic for all four seasons of the year. Having done all this careful gathering of facts throughout the zone, Ibarrola was also able to stud his final reports with specific recommendations for such problems as the best division of waters between dams held by mutually hostile owners. He also made specific recommendations for distinguishing one water right from another where rights had been granted to take water from one stream but with the provision that it be removed from another. The objective throughout Ibarrola's work seems to have been the most effective arrangements for serving both agricultural and industrial properties. He also wished to know exactly how much water was still uncommitted and could now be put to use in new hydroelectric, industrial, and agricultural uses. Toward that end his engineers worked out in great detail the specifications for canal works, to be modified so as to reduce some derivations to the scale they were meant to have when granted in 1635 but which had long been exceeded in practice.

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

117

Likewise, the long, drawn-out and intensive investigations put Ibarrola in a position to state firmly which users had no legal rights at all and were now to be banned from using any water from these rivers. Such, for instance, was the case with San Pedro Atlixco town, and also San Bartolo. He could also show exactly what the encroachments by the town of Izúcar had been, on the rights of San Nicolás Mill. Ibarrola was very much relieved that the work had gone far enough to yield this kind of result—namely, to show forth all the firm and unchallengeable private rights. He had been concerned that the federal government might push beyond any results he could achieve in its desire to rationalize the use of the rivers' water. He knew that the government could have moved on entirely different lines, either by making a law in the case or a reglamento somehow based on other than established property right assumptions, or by renegotiating with owners directly. Ibarrola did not wish to see the government resorting to nontraditional approaches or criteria. He knew that most of the owners in the zone were no mere concessionaires of recent date but represented properties and rights bought outright from the Crown of Spain in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. He felt deeply that such rights must stand. Ibarrola also knew that he was living in a changing world, one in which government was likely to move a situation if it showed signs of stagnation. It was a Mexican tradition to look to the central authority for action in the fact of seemingly immovable or unresponsive conditions and problems. Also, many of the newer entrepreneurs were quite as eager as investors had always been to find government on their side sweeping away the problems they themselves could not solve. In this regard Sebastián de Mier, who had likely occasioned the work of the Special Commission of the Atoyac, had remarked in his respectful request for help that recent experience had shown how beneficial federal intervention has been, harmonizing interests, portraying rights, and increasing wealth to such degree that properties of relatively slight value in 1890 have sold this past year [1895] at triple their former value, all of which has been due to the prudence with which [the federal authorities] have proceeded to establish reglamentos for distribution of water adequate to the conditions of those districts, and [due also] to the firmness and justice with which [those reglamentos] have been put into practice." In 1906 Ibarrola submitted among other reports his "Proyecto de Reglamento para los ríos Cantarranas y Nexapa," confirming specific rights for nineteen properties on the Cantarranas and twenty-three along the Nexapa —these being a mixture of towns, small- and medium-sized ranchos, haciendas, hydroelectric generating plants, and small factories. The system he proposed consisted in broad outline of a series of intakes, each of a specific set of dimensions. All connected with a hundred-meter canal of

118

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

very gentle gradient so that water would only enter any canal chamber at a given volume and rate. The flow of the Nexapa was thoroughly committed, and no additional irrigation could be permitted with water of that river. Use of the stream was divided into two seasonal segments. All users shared from early December until mid-May, with the rest of the year being reserved for but three of the established users. No dams were to be built for the industrial properties, and those presently existing there were now ordered destroyed because experience had shown that those establishments had no need for large reserves of standing water. Also, irrigation of downstream properties had been cut disastrously short when one or another of the factories had started taking water into a reservoir at the height of the agricultural irrigation season. Finally, as for Sebastián B. de Mier, that new concessionaire who was to use so much of the available water, he was assured of his right to use water from the Rio Nexapa in the amount specified for a large hydroelectric plant. Whether or not Ibarrola was satisfied with his thoroughgoing and very traditionalist findings, he concluded his "Proyecto" with a warning: "I must point out that I doubt the right of Government to impose [the new reglamento], this being a question that is not in my province to decide and which should be submitted to competent jurists for study." Indeed, in such administrative intervention as this, Mexico's central government was breaking new ground if not perhaps also breaking the law itself and departing from constitutional norms, all in an attempt to assure both peace and prosperity for the nation and its people.

THE RÍO DUER O PR OJECT As we have seen, the government's inspection of the Río Duero situation came about because of a concern voiced by owners of a new and very large hydroelectric enterprise that was intended to serve customers in parts of the states of Michoacán and Guanajuato. The original application in 1897" was later taken up by the Guanajuato Power and Electric Company, which made a contract with the federal government, carried out the works specified in the contract, and then became concerned enough about the reliability of the water supply to ask the federal government to investigate all upstream usage. The company was convinced that many farmers were wasting water that came from the stream in the zone known as the Cañada de los Once Pueblos, near the headwaters. In early 1902 the Ministry of Development concurred in these doubts and agreed with the company that a survey would be made "of the river from its origins to the Chaparaco Dam," that stretch being of greatest

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Early Projects

119

interest because the company generated power just below the dam. On April 23, 1902, Ramón de Ibarrola was asked by the Ministry of Development to go to Michoacán to examine water rights of each user along that one stretch of the river.' 4 The objective in view was to prevent wastage of this resource. Ibarrola asked for and was permitted to take some of his engineers from the Atoyac commission. Once arrived in western Mexico, he left Ings. Salvador Toscano and José Martínez at Zamora to work up toward the Rio Tangancicuaro, where they remained from May through September. Later these two men did all the final maps, calculations, and memorandums from which Ibarrola would write his general report. The fieldwork differed from any done in the Nazas and Atoyac projects because here the prime attention was to efficiency of water use in farming. Toscano's first big report' 5 showed that there were 3,455 hectares under cultivation in the valley of the Once Pueblos and in Tangancicuaro Valley. The users were towns, haciendas, ranchos, and mills. Twenty-six dams stood along the stream. The smallest rights were in the hands of a few farms of but 5 hectares each, and the largest hacienda had 590 hectares of land. The voluminous reports and maps resulting from this reconnaissance did not reach the Ministry of Development until after the parent Atoyac commission was disbanded, presumably between 1904 and 1906. None of the Río Duero maps or reports have yet come to light,' 8 although they doubtless still exist. A few communications and fragmentary documents indicate clearly that the engineers working in Michoacán did the usual careful fieldwork. Like those who had compiled new knowledge in the Comarca Lagunera and in the state of Puebla, they did as comprehensive a job as their own training, the existing facilities, and the level of staffing would permit. At present one can only guess that neither the Atoyac nor the Duero investigations gave rise to any permanent, on-site inspection missions such as the one already installed in the Laguna District. In both the Atoyac and Duero work the pressing need was met—to assure the government that existing uses would not block or hamper a large new hydroelectric enterprise. Conversely, it was important to be sure that the new enterprises would not create insuperable difficulties for those who were already using river water and who counted upon it for their living. The likelihood is that the reglamentos for the Atoyac and for the Duero were never formally announced, and never implemented before 1911. But in a very important sense these missions were of basic importance from the time the reglamentos were shaped and the reports filed'7 with the Ministry of Development. These were benchmark studies that truly reflected the use of resources and

120

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Early Projects

that showed what survived from the past and how to make way for the future in this sense. In the same way that Ramón de Ibarrola deeply appreciated and respected what he had learned of the work so carefully done by Dr. González Peñafiel in 1635, so, too, the ministry and its successor agencies down through the decades valued Ibarrola's, Toscano's, and Martinez's reports, as officials at Mexico City continued to oversee the use of resources in an increasing number of river basins all over the country.

5

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

In some important respects the last surveys made just before the coming of the Mexican Revolution approached the same problems addressed in earlier reconnaissance. The engineers still looked for illegal use of stream water so as to economize the resource and make it available to new enterprises. They still tried to discover the total potential of river flow so as to predict possibilities for future use. But in the later studies there is a much more vivid interest in finding out how to make changes in the engineering facilities in order to put the stream to better use in the near future. In this sense the engineers in the field, and Francisco Madero with his own property concerns in the Laguna District, were thinking along the same lines and with the same sense of urgency. At the time the futuristic changes they proposed could not possibly be attempted for lack of funds, personnel, and expertise. But the desire was there and it was strong. Likewise, in the final missions of which we have good knowledge there appeared a new personality as dominant as had been that of Ramón de Ibarrola in the earlier phase. The differences of viewpoint and style meant that the studies done along the Rio Aguanaval and in the drainage of the San Juan del Rio would have a significantly more contemporary sound and emphasis. The new leader of field investigations did not worry so much about ultimate protection of property rights. He was more inclined to suggest specific steps for the government to take. Some of his suggestions related to engineering changes, while others focused on the policies and customs in river basin administration as it was at that early stage. This new figure was Ing. Fernando Beltrán y Puga, whose whole approach proved to be attuned to the increasing sense of urgency in economic development which became so clear after the turn of the new cen121

122

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later

Work

tury. At the time Beltran was an official of the Ministry of Development, serving as the inspector of waters. His long and detailed memoranda would forecast the scope and style of Mexico's first-class engineering performance as it would develop on through the Revolutionary years and as it would become increasingly marked during the late 1920s and 1930s.

ALONG THEAGUANA

VAL

When the Aguanaval survey was ordered in July 1904, the idea was to discover what was not clear to the Ministry of Development: whether the river's water was all committed or whether any could now be granted for use in cotton cultivation. Beltrán was instructed to find out whether water was still available, where and how to make a storage dam along the stream, and how the water should be distributed and to whom. He would need to check all the established intakes and rights closely so that the result would be a master system of water distribution for all users, existing and yet to come. Whether seen from Mexico City or close at hand, the water rights situation on the Rio Aguanaval was mystifying indeed. The only commonly accepted fact was that in 1864 President Benito Juárez had awarded half the river's flow to the Hacienda de Hornos and the other half to the municipality of Matamoros, both near the river's foot. Both grantees vigorously insisted that their rights were still in force, although neither had ever come near to using the half of the stream flow each had been awarded. Thus, over the years before the 1890s, a number of other landowners had presumably been taking off fractions of each half of the stream flow, simply by right of unchallenged use (prescripción). Unfortunately, records of such gradual changes had not been kept in any public way, and even those claiming rights by unchallenged use could not convincingly show how much water they had been putting to use. The federal government's attitude at first had been one of inattention. But, after the passage of the Waters Law of 1888, the government based its view on the assumption that waters in the river were federal property until some legal user took them out. For instance, after 1888 the federal government interpreted President Juárez's grant of "half the river's flow" as meaning that the two original grantees could take half of whatever was still in the stream as it arrived at their intake works. The government resisted the idea that President Juárez could be said to have awarded all the water in the Rio Aguanaval to the two owners, the Hacienda de Hornos and the municipality of Matamoros. So, during the late 1890s and early in the twentieth century, the Ministry of Development did not respond to appeals from those two original holders1

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

123

of water rights. It was unsympathetic to all appeals for redress that came from those parties. And the ministry failed to respond to other appeals, from other owners along the river, partly because it did not share those appellants' assumptions about prescriptive rights to use the river's flow. All told, the ministry remained inactive and rigid in its attitude toward the Aguanaval problem, for reasons of which we cannot now be entirely sure. It may be, however, that the hands-off policy had to do with the fact that some of the conflicts concerning the river were already working their way through courts of law. Thus the ministry was forced to notify many parties that, if they intended to test issues in court or if they were already doing so, the executive branch of government had to await the courts' decisions before entering into any administrative readjustments in the premises. Nevertheless, the applications still came to the ministry offices at Mexico City; and still the conflicts raged along the river. After 1902 the ministry began to see more clearly how involved and complex the situation had gradually become. One of the large properties, the Hacienda de Homos, had petitioned for confirmation of its right to half the river's flow. The ministry appointed Beltran to inspect the situation briefly and to advise how sizable a right should be confirmed to the hacienda's owners. Presumably the ministry could not avoid taking action in this case because the Hacienda's owners were asking what was their due according to the Waters Law of 1888 —a confirmation of their long-standing right. Beltran's brief visit led to his report of 1902, which must have made dismal reading in Section Five of the Ministry of Development; and this report may well have led to the decision to do a full-dress field investigation. Beltran recommended confirming to the hacienda a water right that would represent those volumes the hacienda's canals could carry safely. Thus he was not recommending simple confirmation of half the river's flow but less than one-tenth of its flow during average years. Beltran first showed what the ministry had begun to see in correspondence—that owners along the stream were busy in expanding their water intakes, and were thus invading each others' rights on an ambitious scale. New canals were being opened, with no shadow of legal right. Dams were being built without permission, and more were in immediate prospect. And, as had been true on the Rio Nazas, the as yet unsettled Durango-Coahuila state boundary lay astride the Aguanaval. Some properties lay across these state lines. Neither state government had managed to reduce the illegal pilfering of river water, and both state governments showed an inclination to favor property owners located in their territory. Nor had the Ministry of Development been able to use the state governments as instruments to quiet controversies or to stabilize the situation even temporarily. The ministry's demand to the governor of Coahuila to issue

124

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

stop orders against all river works known to be abuilding had had no known effect. The governors of the two states were in utter disagreement in their reports to the ministry as to whether certain works were new—and thus represented illegal construction — or whether these same works had existed as long as fourteen years in completed state or were considerably older, somewhat degraded, and therefore now under repair. By that time, in mid-1902, the owners of the two original grants dating from 1864 had begun to combine their efforts against a number of others who were rapidly invading the riverbanks with new dams and canals. By the fall of 1903 one of these conflicts had reached the stage of repeated resort to judicial stay orders, to amparo actions, and to other legal activity. The basic facts were still as far beyond the ministry's understanding as ever. It was at that time when the order was issued to Beltran to go to the scene and investigate thoroughly. He and several other engineers went to work that fall season, starting out by measuring the river's flow because they found no helpful records beyond some rainfall figures for the past year or so. From the first Beltran had in mind the possibilities and problems that might be involved in placing a large dam somewhere along the stream. Among his leading questions, therefore, was whether existing canals would be likely to withstand a healthy flow of water during a good part of the year. He, like Ibarrola before him, provided for steady monitoring of the river flow, which had never been recorded and whose possible maximum was of course of crucial interest in designing and placing a new dam. Beltran's people found the stretch of river below canyon level to be 103 kilometers in length, with eighty-one canals, of which Beltran had examinations made of the seventy-one he felt were fit to operate at maximum stage of river flow.* He followed the course of each of these canals for one or two kilometers in each case, calculated the capacity of each, and identified the owners and the nature of their water rights. Proceeding in this way, Beltran was soon able to make his best guess as to the location for the dam. He could guess at how much water would be involved when all canals were running full. He would soon have the other figures he wanted—at least one year's recording of river flow—and would then be aware in a rough sort of way of how much water could be said to be uncommitted and available for use in lands not yet under cotton cultivation. What he saw gave Beltran deep concern. Now more than ever he felt that many changes had to be made in the local situation to obtain the maximum agricultural production. From the standpoint of private water rights, some of the oldest and best titles belonged to properties far downstream. But these often received no water at all because of illegal diversions

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

125

far above. Quite as dismal was the fact that the river course was sandy, losing much of its flow by percolation through the river's bed. In addition, the channel of the river tended to shift because of buffeting at times of highest waters. Beltran also saw a great deal of water loss in the fact that each owner ran his own canal from the river. Many of these small channels were in poor condition. The inspector felt that through some stretches of the Aguanaval a single derivation canal in good condition would do much better work than was being accomplished by a leaky river and fifteen or more brokendown canals. Moreover, this whole problem of conserving water and seeing it put to best use was also accentuated by the lively conflict among the two large farming zones —one, that of the Hacienda de Homos, and the other, the Cuadro de Matamoros properties. Both lying near the foot of the river, and with their derivation canals intermingled, they constantly feuded with each other for the small quantities of water that reached them. Beltran's group was in the field five months toward the end of 1903, moving camp eight times. A smaller group spent three weeks in the zone during November and December of 1904. Time after time Beltran thought he had seen badly placed and poorly maintained canal works, and a riverbed too leaky and too unstable to serve as an effective delivery channel. As for the behavior of the landowners and municipalities, "The most complete anarchy reigns," he reported. Everyone was trying to dig canals deeper and wider so as to take water away from everyone else. Even during the year beginning in fall 1903 Beltran found that, in the group of properties near the river's end known as the Cuadro de Matamoros, some thirtyseven of the sixty-one serviceable canals had recently been noticeably increased in capacity. Some had actually doubled in size. Expectably enough, those canals that had been the largest and that had occupied the most favorable sites—surely, he thought, owned by the most powerful persons in the locality—were those that had most grown in capacity between 1903 and late 1904. Beltran never could make out just how the owners were using all the water they managed to extract from the river. He had neither the time nor the manpower to conduct a study of land use in the zone. This he sorely wished to do, so as to know how closely the amounts of water taken by each owner corresponded with agricultural production by each. The few cases he did know well showed no apparent correspondence between water available to an owner and the size of his landholding, let alone the total amount of his crop. The implication, to Beltran, was that some owners kept on pirating water because they had, or were arranging to obtain, large parcels of land awaiting irrigation. From all he saw and heard, therefore, Beltran concluded that the frenzy involving water rights and usage was based, as it

126

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

was in the nearby Rio Nazas lands, on the fact that there was much more arable land near the Aguanaval than could ever be served by the available water supply. Beltrán also discovered that almost everyone involved in the Aguanaval water controversies expected to have their problems solved by imposition of a reglamento exactly like the one then functioning for the Nazas River. He knew that such an arrangement had indeed quieted almost all conflicts involving the Nazas. But the great difference between the annual regimes of the two rivers, Beltrán saw, made it impractical to use for the Aguanaval that same system of distribution of water, allowing different quantities at successive stages of the river's height during its semiannual floods. On the Aguanaval, the main flow of the year came within a very brief period, and the river often crested for only twelve hours. The big canals upstream, constantly being expanded beyond their legal capacities, could now take out most of the river's flow even in a year of moderate volume. In such a year, as many as forty owners downstream might receive no water at all. In 1903 Beltrán's group of engineers had found all canals together to be capable of taking 180 cubic meters per second. But by 1904, when those canals had expanded to a total capacity of 220 cubic meters, the river ran at peak strength for only ten hours. Beltrán's computations showed that in 1904 the four haciendas farthest upstream took so much water that all the remaining properties, while receiving some flow, did not have enough for the minimum acceptable job of preparing a cotton crop. To allow this situation to continue as it was in 1904, and to face the sure prospect that the imbalances and losses would continue to swing in favor of a few large upriver properties, seemed "intolerable" to Beltrán. He could predict that the situation would become still worse for the numerous downstream owners, because most of the land not yet under irrigation was in the hands of the upstream haciendas. It was to be expected that the owners of those properties would engross more and more of the river's flow with each succeeding year. Regrettably, therefore, Beltrán felt that first priority could not go toward bringing more land into cultivation wherever it might lie. As he saw it, the urgent need was for the Ministry of Development to intervene in order to control closely the distribution of water from this river. The water was being badly used, and much of it was being lost both to simple greed and to the poor physical and engineering conditions. Thus, he recommended immediate creation of a permanent inspection service along the Aguanaval — one or more engineers empowered to block creation of new engineering works and having authority to force changes in the existing facilities. These inspectors would also continue to gather all data concerning the river's regime, irrigation, and farming. The reglamentación of this river, he felt, had to be done as quickly and as soon as possible.

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

127

In due course his proposed reglamento was completed and submitted to the minister. 9 It strongly stressed those changes that would make all water intakes easy to inspect and difficult to alter. It would eliminate dozens of leaky little canals in favor of a new master channel—or more than one — to feed the side canals leading to properties. The idea was to confine the river's channel, along certain stretches, between dikes and walls to reduce the rate of fall of the river at those stages. The reglamento foresaw a number of additional engineering works intended to disentangle some of the canals lying along the lowest stretches of the stream. There the intakes for the Hacienda de Homos and those of the Cuadro de Matamoros were so intermingled that nobody could tell who was receiving how much water. Beltrán's own reports, which preceded the formal drawing-up of the reglamento, were clear as a bell. They expressed few doubts and made those very obvious. In the reports Beltrán argued strongly for specific conclusions and recommendations. He saw the existing distribution system as "unjust and absurd." He understood that to correct the situation would be a task stretching over time. So few basic facts were thoroughly known—including that crucial figure, the coeficiente de riego, that would express the exact amount of water needed to cultivate one hectare of cotton in the local conditions. As always in such situations of doubt, Beltrán made clear the bases of his own assumptions. He showed how, and how soon, better factual approximations might be obtainable. Then, when making final statements from data still so incomplete, he stated careful conclusions that he considered extremely conservative. In this case, for instance, he raised a doubt about the coeficiente de riego. No matter which figure one chose to assume—his own 5,700 cubic meters per hectare, the 10,000 assumed by Ing. Luis Guerrero Romero, or any other still larger amount—it was only too clear that the Rio Aguanaval would never provide enough water to come near to serving all prospective cotton lands lying nearby. Two zones of those lands alone—those of the haciendas farthest upstream (near Realito Canyon) and those in the Cuadro de Matamoros a hundred kilometers downriver — already owned, taken together, much more unirrigated land than the river could ever supply for cotton cultivation. The reglamento included Beltrán's figures, used for the time being until more accurate facts could be provided by the ministry's people then working in the district. It became clear in this document, however, that no further concessions of river water could be made from the Rio Aguanaval. Moreover, there was one radical new step in this proposed reglamento 4 (as finally perfected by Ing. Monsalve in the Ministry of Development) which was much beyond anything that Ibarrola or Beltrán had recommended thus far: to confirm private rights only to the extent of the amount of mois-

128

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

ture needed in the lands then held in private properties. This step, if accepted, would be a new departure in the sense that many titles on the Rio Aguanaval had been acquired by peaceful, unchallenged use of water over ten or more years—by right of prescripción. Ing. Monsalve was now asking that all such titles be examined closely to see whether they showed limitations set originally on the flow of water involved in each case. The suggestion was that limits had been set in most cases and that owners could not now use more water than had been allocated in the first place. This would involve a much closer scrutiny of these traditional rights, which had ordinarily been confirmed by the federal government in the amounts alleged by the owners' petitions. In any case the conclusion arrived at, Monsalve believed, should doubtless be the same as Ibarrola had once fixed upon when he had studied illegal usage along the Rio Atoyac. Federal authorities had ample reason, as Ibarrola had maintained at that time, not to accept at face value the proprietor's own statement of the amount of water he should have in cubic meters per second of river flow. Old rights ordinarily did not spell out amounts in such precise fashion. Even if they had stated the right specifically, it might be a much lower figure than was now being asserted. One could expect such fudging when everyone in sight was constantly expanding his or her intake facilities from year to year so as to bring more land into cultivation. In this proposed reglamento, therefore, the further radical step was taken of stating that each owner would receive that amount of water shown in the document of confirmation to be issued to him. The division of available water would be made proportionally among those who held rights in view of the amount of land to be watered in each case. All owners were to be obligated to stop taking water once they had withdrawn the specified amount, computed as the number of hectares of land multiplied by 5,000 (cubic meters of water). Water beyond that total amount had to be left in the stream. Beltrán's engineering recommendations were brought into the phrasing of the reglamento. This was very likely the first time the federal government was being asked to incorporate public works improvements in a reglamento along with the usual provisions for distribution of water and for maintenance of a certain level of quality in the private facilities. The river course was to be fortified and confined in certain walled channels. Master canals would be built, each of which would feed into many private properties. Each owner would be required to maintain a canal keeper on duty. As soon as possible a storage dam would be built in Realito Canyon to govern a milder and longer-lasting flow of water throughout the year. And, as with the arrangements then in effect on the Rio Nazas, a permanent

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

129

inspection team would be on hand, with telephone connections to all properties and, eventually, with automatic registering at inspection headquarters of the current flow in each canal. Whether this reglamento ever went into effect before the 1920s, if then, is not yet known. It was a radical approach for its day. Like all the major steps being taken by the Ministry of Development in river basin management, its enforcement would have stepped well beyond the limits of authority in the Waters Law of June 5, 1888. As best one can guess from a few hints in correspondence of the time, however, the Ministry of Development probably held the reports and the suggested reglamento as reference material, without trying to commence close regulation of water use along the river and without imposing any proportional sharing of the water resource among existing users. One good reason not to push ahead with close-range, obligatory management of the river lay in the fact that by 1907-1909 voices were loudly raised in denunciation of the government's activities in river basin regulation. Some of the owners of Aguanaval lands had become more inclined to challenge the federal power directly. 5 The discord was felt in the congress, which was already trying to work out a more satisfactory basis for federal authority in all these matters. Perhaps the federal administrators took this to be a time for waiting. It was a period, in any event, when local and national political involvements made it highly questionable that any strong administrative policy could succeed in the troubled state of Coahuila. One can sympathize with those who had such decisions to make. In the proposed reglamento, for instance, there was a strong statement to the effect that close examination of titles would show that many or most of the landowners, basing their rights on prescripción, had lost those rights long ago through failure to use the stream regularly. But most of the properties with such potentially defunct rights were now in the hands of very powerful persons, one of them the current governor of Coahuila. Whatever the reasons for the ministry's hesitation to take those final steps to institute close control of the Rio Aguanaval, affairs there remained in suspense through the following years, on through the Mexican Revolution, and at least until the middle 1920s.6 As a stopgap measure the Ministry of Development added personnel to its Rio Nazas commission, which was charged with oversight of local policy decisions bearing on the Rio Aguanaval. Thereafter the government refused to allow expansion of usages, on the view that the reglamento was still being drawn up and changes had to await conclusion of that document. Conflicts among the more powerful proprietors would long continue, and petitions for redress from a wide variety of owners would keep coming in. Thus the Beltrán survey of 1903-1904 proved to be both the beginning and, for long years to

130

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

come, the final framework for closer government attention to water uses on the Rio Aguanaval. Before 1910 and for long thereafter, the available personnel and budget limitations did not permit the establishment of another permanent inspection mission. The few field engineers were busy elsewhere, in river basins where much less was known of the current uses and abuses of river water.

THE RÍO SANJUAN

DEL RIO

The last river basin study to be completed before the onset of the Revolutionary conflicts took place in those high mountain basins, long slopes and canyons, and rich lowland zones of the Río San Juan del Rio system, which extends from the states of México and Hidalgo into Querétaro. The need for a survey was suggested in mid-1904 by the large number of applications for water rights, all made since the previous year. At first the Ministry of Development intended merely to gather enough information to allow decisions to be made regarding these new applications. Fernando Beltrán y Puga was asked to review all the papers, to visit the region briefly, and then to recommend what to do. He suggested that a major mission was needed because of the scope of the river system, its many important irrigation works, and an almost total lack of information concerning the river's regime or its potential maximum flow. Accordingly, he was entrusted with a full-scale mission, and he and other engineers spent more than a year in the field and at home, doing many kinds of field studies and then compiling a series of reports and maps with other accompanying data. Of all the field investigations in river basins before the Revolution, this one proved to be the most complex, partly because so little information was at hand to start with and partly because irrigation works in the zone were so evolved and so intricately intermingled. Beltrán soon came to believe that a detailed reglamento was called for. More than that, he foresaw a continuing measure of cooperation among all parties, given the fact that the canals and dams in the zone were so interdependent. Indeed, some works were literally tributary to others. As to why so many new applications were on hand in 1903-1904, Beltrán discovered that one exceptionally large water right had recently lapsed, thus encouraging many new applicants to come forward. And beyond this possibility of new grants due to the termination of an old one, the whole picture suggested to Beltrán a major issue, one that would be of greater importance here than in river systems studied earlier. Could broad rights to the use of river water continue to be exercised, he asked, where it was clear that no such large amounts of water had ever been in use? Could the

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

131

full amounts being claimed now be confirmed by federal authority, when it was so obvious that no such amounts could be put to use for the purposes in view? These questions arose because of facts that soon came to the surface as the engineers moved from place to place within the large zone of irrigation. First, most of the water arriving in the main stream and tributaries was going unused. Seen in a wider perspective, thus, the more that was made available, the more would go to waste. The large flow from the headwaters belonged to one owner, who stored an immense amount in the largest system of dams in all Mexico. But these reservoirs, almost a dozen, occupied the low-lying and best lands of that hacienda. 7 Therefore, even with tremendous amounts of water available to the owner, the current production of the hacienda lands did not amount to as much —in wheat, garbanzos, and corn —as the same lands produced during colonial times before the huge network of dams appeared. What had happened was that the owners had decided to drain the original large dam, at the same time constructing another just above it. But as it turned out both huge dams remained in service, holding about 80 million cubic meters of water but useful in farming only about 500 hectares of wheat. The other 4,300 hectares of good land lay under the two big dams, drowned and lost to agricultural production.* In other lands on down through the system and into the plains below, the engineers found one or another version of the same glaring fact, namely, that river water from the San Juan del Rio did not go into efficient use. Below the great double reservoir of Hacienda Arroyozarco in the headwaters zone, the government's explorers found a linked system of at least thirty-four dams spread over many miles and belonging mostly to the municipality of Polotitlan, which, in turn, had leased most of its land to a multitude of private parties. All were fed by one master canal that branched and bifurcated in all directions. The one intake was not large enough to serve all the properties, and the assemblage of dams did not come near to providing the seasonal storage called for in that predominantly agricultural region. Thus, most of the water in that part of the river had to be allowed to flow on downstream, going unused through the zone of the thirty-four dams. On below the Polotitlan lands, a great deal of water entered the river from tributaries, but it was not yet being utilized save in very small measure. Those receiving this large flow were two haciendas, one big and one small, located down in the plains known as the Plan de San Juan del Rio. But neither establishment was equipped to utilize more than a small fraction of the huge flow. Poor utilization and underutilization of water, whether in the high country or in the plains below, resulted also from a choice of crops traditional in

132

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

the region and suited to local circumstances of river flow. In the main farmers put in wheat, which called for moist soil at time of planting and some renewal of moisture later on, during the winter. But most river water arrived during the summer. Consequently, farmers put some of the heavy summer flow into the ground, hoping to retain enough wetness there, and tried to hold the rest of the summer waters in their large, open dams. That stored water, and whatever might come later in the year, would be used during winter to encourage the plants as they grew. The shortcomings of this routine were that most of the summer moistening of the soil came too early to be effective and that most of the water held in dams simply evaporated. Beltrán's mission reported that the eventual crop totals depended mostly on the amount of water available for that final moistening during the winter season. The problem with the Arroyozarco system of huge dams at the head of the river was essentially the same as that of the two other sizable production zones —the Polotitlán lands, and the area of Haciendas La Llave and San Nicolás in the lowlands: arrangements were simply not such as to be able to move a great deal of the available water into the extensive farmlands. The Arroyozarco reservoirs captured and stored much of the headwaters flow but in the process left little cultivable land beyond the dams themselves. The Polotitlán zone was handicapped by too small a master intake canal and, apart from remediating this situation, would also need to construct many more and larger dams even to function with mediocre effectiveness. The pair of haciendas, La Llave and San Nicolás, had many dams and channels of which few were workable, so although a huge flow of water arrived in the lowlands, the large properties there could do little irrigation. Moreover, the loss by evaporation in their large and shallow dams was very serious. Likewise, the municipal facilities of the town of San Juan del Rio were too small to take more than drinking water from the stream, except for a tiny bit for irrigation. In comparing the amounts of water taken from the river with the extent of farmlands toward which those waters went, it was clear to the ministry's engineers that agricultural results were minimal. They assumed a need of 5,000 cubic meters of water for each hectare in cultivation. But the area of land under crops was about one-fifth to one-tenth what one would expect if the amount of water being conveyed was being consumed at about that rate. Not surprisingly, therefore, the engineers felt that finding ways to raise agricultural production was just as important as gathering basic data about the river's regime or validating legal titles held by the users. As he had done in the Aguanaval operation, Beltrán assumed that the federal government could properly reclaim any portions of the oldest and largest water rights which had not been in use. Here he must have been

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

133

Map 4. Río San Juan del Rio and Río Nadó.

taking his stand on provisions of the Law of June 5, 1888, rather than on the wording of the old, sweeping water concessions made long before that date. Of course, Beltrán did not persuade the owners of Hacienda Arroyozarco to agree with his view. In fact, they consistently argued that the federal government could not intervene and could not reassess their water

134

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

right. The sources of the water they used were in springs and small streams in the upland valleys on their property, so they maintained that none of their water belonged to the river system; it was their private property in the sense of rainfall that remained on their lands until and unless they allowed it to run off, out of the reservoirs. Nonetheless, Beltrán recommended that the federal right be the guide to action. Furthermore, he looked forward to several important modifications of the distribution of water. To start with, he wanted the government to reclaim about three-quarters of the Arroyozarco water. The hacienda could justify a quarter of all of it as of traditional use in irrigation and for a small power plant on the property. But the other three-quarters had to be available for distribution to others. When it came to releasing excess water from the two big reservoirs on Hacienda Arroyozarco, Beltrán specified that gentle and gradual flow during the period of release had to be required. This would allow the heavy head of water to arrive slowly and gradually enough to be taken by canal works farther downstream. The government engineers had been told that, in the past, when Arroyozarco wished to let water out of its reservoirs, it had too frequently done so without warning, in the dead of night. The great sudden flow that followed was too much for rickety intake facilities far downstream to deal with. Often they dared not open their intakes at all in the face of such a deluge. In this way, it was believed, millions of cubic feet had gone to waste. Then for the midstream users, Polotitlán town and its widespread network of lessees, Beltrán recommended that a set of three strong dams be built. One would stand in the river, and two others would be situated farther back, toward the farmlands. Beltrán's plan was designed to accommodate the strongest expectable river flow. Some of it would go into distribution canals, and the rest would gradually fill the three reservoirs, which would each hold about ten million cubic meters. He felt that such a system would be strong and safe if constructed of masonry (manipostería). And he had in mind a suitable site for the one dam that would stand astride the riverbed. The survey done by this mission of engineers was admittedly incomplete. No rainfall figures had been available. 9 They had too little time for a complete census of agricultural lands that might usefully be watered from the system of the San Juan del Rio and had to guess at a coeficiente de riego for each of the favored crops grown in the locality. They could not know the practical strength or durability of any of the existing irrigation works. Further, their explorations of the sizable tributary streams were hurried and incomplete, although they did spend enough time along the Rio Nadó to find good dam sites there. After hiking the hills for months, thus, having

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

135

floated their little boat in pools and shallows to measure the depths, the tired members of this federal brigade knew they had hardly scratched the surface of the mysteries surrounding them still. As for the large territories of the lowland haciendas, Beltran found it difficult to estimate for the near future. To start with, though, he recommended validating the original water rights. He would then have proceeded to study the zone carefully enough to set precise requirements for irrigation works, both new ones and some old ones in need of repair or reshaping. Close study would also have been vital for ascertaining which, if any, of the works were stable and efficient enough to be used when better river management had been effected and there was a heavier flow of water down the stream. Modern management implied, too, that new locations might have to be found for some of the dams and canals, so as to provide irrigation for a known extent of farmland to be used for raising the most indicated assortment of crops. 10 Beltran also recognized, however, that there was a point beyond which he could not go, even in his dreams—a point of diminishing returns for any such study as his, at that time. No matter how he might strain the wording of the Waters Law of 1888, that legislation still set narrow limitations on the government's power to compel improvements or to induce modernization. More importantly, there were conventional outer limits of time and personnel in all the administrative efforts the ministry was accustoming itself to make. This meant that there were generally accepted feelings about the desirability of gathering some kinds of data and not others. Another way of putting this is that only certain scopes of future action could be expected. Only certain steps, therefore, were worth taking in these field studies of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Beltran was keenly aware that by the time he closed the books on the San Juan del Rio investigation, he had taken it about as far as it would be permitted to go. He had at least some rough answers to questions such as: Is there enough excess water available for new uses? If so, what is its potential value in agricultural product? How may the supply of uncommitted water be distributed? How may it be increased? He had also fulfilled the specific objective of this mission, which was to recommend whether or not to grant any or all of the outstanding new applications for river water. 11 As with his study of the Rio Aguanaval, Beltran would look to the future and would feel obliged to speak of another and better tomorrow. He felt, in the first place, that all water rights so far granted in Mexico had the common defect of not specifying a volume of water presumed to be necessary for the particular tasks in view. So, although he did recommend that the application of Sra. Rubia de Izita be granted allowing her to take the water she had requested for use in irrigation, he urged in this case that it

136

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

would be "very prudent" to be sure that she did in fact need all the water she was asking for. This could be calculated, given the amount of land to be fanned and the presumed amount of water needed on that land for cultivating certain crops. Beltrán went even further, however, by asserting that this test should be applied to all water rights as owners came forward one by one to ask confirmation according to the provisions of the Waters Law of 1888. In insisting on this criterion Beltrán was still ahead of his time in Mexican practice, as this ambitious inspector of waters well knew. In addition, Beltrán had other suggestions for dealing with existing water rights when they came up for confirmation according to the specifications voted in 1888. He had already made clear that he thought it idle to grant confirmation merely because legal title was sound in the traditional sense—that is, that water was being used on the property to which it was granted, from the indicated source, and by the owner of the land being served. Using the example of the lands of Polotitlán to make his points, he now suggested additional criteria that should be brought into play in all but the very simplest cases. 11 First, one should grant no right greater than the amount of water that could enter the channel at time of maximum flow. Then, one might reduce that amount by totaling the storage capacities of the dams legally in existence on the property and limiting the capacity of the intake canal accordingly. Beltrán recommended this approach as fairest and most accurate in making up a permanent reglamento for the river, as it would make clear the rights of all users and best assure the full exploitation of the water. He was able to show the difference it would make in the total of water available, uncommitted to users, if his recommended procedures were applied to the two lowland haciendas, San Nicolás and La Llave. Neither, he felt, should have water rights confirmed until the owner agreed to make efficient storage and distribution works, and until it became clear how much land he would in fact irrigate on his hacienda. Beltrán's recommendations were aimed as directly as possible at increasing agricultural production. He assumed that the needed changes would come slowly and that some local conditions, such as the farmers' preference for wheat cultivation, might never change. He tried, therefore, to place his suggestions between the polar extreme courses available to government policymakers. He pointed to a desirable but not ideally complete degree of action as regarded both administrative measures and engineering facilities. His reglamento was supposed to be a practical compromise between utopianism and inaction. For instance, he would have wanted to provide for capturing and damming virtually all the flow of the river and of its powerful tributaries. But to do so would have required huge and very heavy, expensive dams on the

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

137

upper courses of more than one stream, where storage would certainly have been most useful in catching the sudden, strong seasonal flow. For the plains below, his ideal suggestion would have been large engineering works of a kind that could take and hold the great flow coming in from the larger tributaries. But that flow was often so heavy, calling for many huge intake canals, that Beltrán did not believe either landowners or the government itself would be prepared to undertake the tremendous expenditures required. Instead, the inspector suggested a partial capture of upstream waters in the Polotitlán zone, and likewise only a partial impounding of the main stream when it reached the lowlands far below. With the necessary works shown in his proposed reglamento, Beltrán could predict satisfactory irrigation of some 26,000 hectares of f a r m l a n d . u And that would have been a likely outcome in any year of even moderate river flow. Moreover, to gain that much would have been a great increase over the current year-by-year wheat production and would not have called for engineering costs likely to bankrupt the proprietors of the farms. Furthermore, if the reglamento he was recommending were put into effect, the various new applications on hand could all have been granted. M

ELSE WHERE IN THE FIELD Other serious studies of river courses and basins were being conducted just before the outbreak of fighting in 1910. Some of the field investigations were no doubt terminated by the rising dangers of the civil war as it grew in intensity in early 1911. Presumably, some of these missions may have produced provisional or even full-scale reglamentos for a féw of the most important drainage basins in Mexico. Of such studies little information has yet come to light, although full records no doubt still exist—some in the archives, perhaps others reflected only in newspaper commentary or personal memoirs. One of the most important scenes for future reglamentación was the farflung system of the Rio Lerma, Lake Chapala, and the Rio Grande de Santiago. No part of the area had been reconnoitered by government engineers before 1900, even though a great deal of private exploitation was in process at various points throughout the extensive region. After 1900 it became increasingly urgent to conduct at least some general reconnaissance. To mention but one of the major problems then emerging, there was the question of whether Lake Yuriria should be used as an expanded storage basin to feed, and to help to regularize, the flow of the Rio Lerma. There was also a huge project in the offing to drain large stretches of Lake

138

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

Chapala. The objectives in view were the sale of irrigable land to be uncovered, the generation of hydroelectric power, and the irrigation of other nearby lands. Nobody knew, however, what would happen to the riverbank conditions below, along the Rio Grande de Santiago, were the level of Lake Chapala to be lowered permanently. The most that is yet known of all these concerns is that there was a Comisión del Rio Lerma in the early twentieth century, with Ing. Luis Guerrero Romero working full time in gathering such basic data as the level of Lake Chapala from month to month. 15 A retrospective memorandum written years later shows that several kinds of information were being collected around the lake by private parties and by the commission, some as early as 1901, with another series of data commencing in 1906. The focus of attention on Lake Chapala and its tributaries occurred because of one large-scale application made by Manuel Cuesta Gallardo, who wanted to reduce the volume of the lake and to carry out several other projects. As so often happened at that time, the application gained acceptance by the president and the congress before the Ministry of Development had basic information on the hydraulic resources of the region. So the ministry was in no position to judge the soundness of Cuesta Gallardo's plans, even though he was presumably on the very point of commencing work. 16 Nor could the Ministry of Development effectively monitor the progress of this private enterprise, which soon would be transferred from Cuesta Gallardo to the Compañía Agrícola de Chapala. It seems likely that this large, multipurpose concession had come into existence through a combination of the traditional and the more modernizing approaches of government policy. That is, the concession was almost certainly discussed and granted in very general terms. The intent was to open new lands to farming by lowering the level of the lake. But in order to start work the concessionaire had to satisfy the rigorous requirements of the ministry in regard to all the engineering procedures and other details of the work. We would need more information, however, to understand just how this concession was launched and what delayed it during the last few years of the Diaz administration. The government itself may have caused delay simply to allow enough information to be gathered to assure everyone involved that the lake could be drained to a certain extent without whole segments of the regional drainage system being disrupted. More likely still, the work of drainage may have been blocked by legal process undertaken by other lakeside landowners just before 1910. Some of these owners believed they should be the ones to have any new lands exposed by drainage. A most likely cause for delay, too, in this very sizable project was the poor rainfall year of 1909. After the rains had virtually failed that year,

140

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

the lake's level was so low as to reduce disastrously the runoff down the Rio Grande de Santiago. At that time everyone concerned might well have recognized that the lake could not be permanently lowered without the prior arrangement of certain engineering works. For one thing, much dredging would have to be done around the outlet to overcome the age-old problem of silting there. Already that filling-in had had the effect of reducing the runoff down the Rio Grande de Santiago. Moreover, with the outlet blocked, the lake had repeatedly overflowed into low-lying lands near that exit.17 As dimly seen through a few scattered statements in the records, there were too many serious problems to be dealt with in the Lerma-ChapalaSantiago system for the government to take in hand before 1911. The regions involved were vast, with only tiny pockets of information revealing limited aspects of the whole picture. The government did not have enough experts to send into the field to do all the lengthy investigations of physical facts, land titles, and water usage along the rivers and around the shores of Lake Chapala. Moreover, during the years of war which soon followed, even the few observation stations earlier established for measurement of the level of the lake disbanded. All the problems, thus, had to await resumption of more peaceful times beginning about 1916 or 1917. One other issue created uncertainty in this mission to the states of Michoacán and Jalisco. Up through the late nineteenth century it was assumed almost without question that drainage of shallow lakes was a good thing to do. New irrigable lands could be created in this way with little expense, and available water could be put to much broader and better use than before. But during the early years of this century doubt was creeping in. Engineers began to take broader views of the characteristics of whole drainage basins rather than thinking simply of the merits of isolated proposals aimed at creating profit in an extremely limited zone. The prospects for the Lerma-Chapala-Santiago projects before 1911 did not teach any clear lesson in this regard, but they did raise the most serious questions about the government's ability to deal with novel projects of great scope which were inserting themselves into vast drainage zones too little known to anyone concerned. San Lorenzo, Humaya,

Tamazula

A sizable commission was sent out in 1907 by the Ministry of Development to study these three rivers. The occasion for this reconnaissance was the fact that a large enterprise wished to use water from all those streams in the state of Sinaloa. Ing. Rafael Serrano went as the chief, with four other engineers, and located his field headquarters along the Río San Lorenzo

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

141

N

and also in the city of Culiacán. 18 But what came of that mission is as yet known only from a remark by competent authority in 1910 to the effect that something, although not everything that would be needed, had already been accomplished. The Rio Yaqui In the state of Sonora there existed a long-standing cultural no-man's-land in the territory traversed by the Rio Yaqui as it rushed down the mountains to the lowlands and the sea. It would be most misleading to picture the situation among the people there as merely an Indian unwillingness to live at peace with the Mexican creóle and mestizo population that was steadily

142

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

increasing in the river valley.19 In fact, the cultural distance between native Yaqui Indians and Mexican immigrants had been widening, not narrowing, throughout the nineteenth century. A realistic assessment of the situation might have suggested serious doubt that the intermittent trouble between Yaquis and Mexicans could soon be ended, either through war or by peaceful means. The Yaquis, who had numbered about fifty thousand in the late eighteenth century, were no longer aborigines. During the colonial period they had been missionized by proselyting priests of the Society of Jesus. Their culture, thus, was a blend of Indian and European elements and was highly derivative, as was evidenced in the spiritual and religious basis of their life and as may still be seen today in the strong sense of identity among their descendants in Mexico and in the United States. The Yaquis had come through the early stages of acculturation with high personal morale and with an ability both to retain and to take on aspects of material and social life. What was probably quite unknown to the Mexican government—probably unsuspected by any of the immigrants, officials, and soldiers who met the Indians in their valley—was that all during the nineteenth century these Indians had shaped their customs the better to resist incursions by Mexicans.40 Their world view had changed, with the effect of making them still stronger in a social and psychological sense for the conflict with people who were entering their valley. By 1829, some years after the war of Mexican independence, and after the Spanish overlords of the valley had departed, the Yaquis began to reorganize their civil, military, and religious lives in accord with new conditions of Mexican domination. They lived in towns, each of which had extensive lands that had been marked out when the Jesuits had organized the settlement pattern. They were capable of responding to a call for military action, gathering together several thousand fighters, although in normal times they knew no other dimension of common action. Their church and ceremonial organization was related closely to civil government in each town. Through the 1800s the Yaqui belief in their exclusive ownership of all the valley lands grew steadily, and it came to be part of a religious conviction as well as of a concept of "Yaqui law." "This increasing sacredness of the land became intricately bound up with every other aspect of the Yaqui way of life"; 21 and Yaqui feelings in this regard were at least as strong as those of the nearby creole landowners, or those of landless immigrants hoping to make their homes in the valley lowlands. The Indian town territories comprised large stretches of land some six to seven miles wide, extending back through the valley "into the wild food hunting and gathering areas north and south of the river. " M The Indians spent much of their time in the cleared fields and with their domesticated animals.

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

Map 7. Rio Yaqui and Rio Mayo.

143

144

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

Late in the century the Yaquis were under much heavier pressure both from immigrants entering Sonora and from the reigning state government dynasty, which also owned a series of haciendas (the landholdings having been carved out of Yaqui territory by force). From 1879 on the leading dynasty in the state and in the valley was the Torres clan, to which the emerging political figure Ramón Corral was allied. The relationship between this dynasty and the Yaquis had been hostile until the hacienda owners made good their presence and their political domination of the state. Relations could be hostile again at any time. Meanwhile the hacendado clan of the Torres showed a heavily paternalistic attitude toward the Indians, whom they thought of as subjects for civilizing (in a Hispanic sense). What this meant, beginning in the 1880s, was a long series of efforts to change the form and scope of Yaqui occupation of the valley. Sometimes the effort was carried forward by the hacendados in their private capacity, sometimes by the same Torres clan as leaders of the state's armed forces, and sometimes by federal authorities working with the Torres people. The objectives were to bring about important economic development in the valley, and therefore to dispose of Yaqui collective landownership in favor of a pattern of individual holdings by Indians, hacendados, and an increasing number of smallholder immigrants entering the valley at that time. One of the crisis periods of this policy occurred in the 1880s when federal and Sonoran state troops fought and finally defeated a large-scale Yaqui resistance force. The intention then was to lodge in the valley a large number of soldier-colonists, who would receive land in fee simple. After the campaign had been won by the government's forces in 1886, a special agency of the federal government was put to work to survey lands and distribute them to colonists (as well as to confirm individual holdings for Yaquis). This work was to be done by taking some personnel from the national mapping agency, the Comisión Geográfico-Exploradora, and organizing them as the Comisión Científica de Sonora, which would remain in the valley as long as needed. : s The commission's army officers doing the surveying were given protection by soldiers. Soon several of the Yaqui town sites were occupied by troop detachments. Meanwhile, in their dual capacities as officials of the state of Sonora and as economic enterprisers, the Torres family set about encouraging mestizo settlement, railroad building, and local agriculture and trade. In addition, some of the Indians accepted individual titles to land in and near their traditional towns. The commission's work was supposed to include locating the best routes for, and digging and preparing, irrigation canals to allow for much more irrigation agriculture. This work was supposed to benefit Yaqui families

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

145

and settlements quite as much as new colonies of mestizos. Following their defeat in 1886, however, most of the Indians had moved out of the valley altogether, settling elsewhere in Sonora and as far away as Arizona.*4 Ned Spicer estimates that of sixteen to twenty thousand Yaquis in all, only about thirty-five hundred were still in the valley during the 1890s, and of that number, close to two thousand were living in the mountains as families conducting guerrilla resistance. In addition, a few Yaquis were then living as forced laborers on General Lorenzo Torres's hacienda. 85 Why the commission had so little success in changing the situation is a question to which there are many answers. First of all, the commission never called for economic or engineering surveys of the lower valley.16 Nor is there any sign that the officials in charge ever tried to ascertain the scope of the calamitous floods that occurred whenever the torrential river ran at its highest stages. Those heaviest floods came at unpredictable intervals, of course, but frequently, and so violently as to alter or move the course of the river. Accordingly, any canal works were likely to be washed away during those riverine disasters.27 Nor did the commission ever understand that the Indians felt the whole valley to be theirs, and their town sites to be traditional. In fact, none of the hacendados or federal officials seem to have faced the fact that many of the Indians showed no signs of making peace with immigrant colonists, who were more and more numerous. For its part the federal government at Mexico City understood the local conditions even less well than did those on the scene. To advance the largescale economic development of the zone, the central government made broad commitments, such as a grant of 547,000 acres in the valley for the Sonora and Sinaloa Irrigation Company (1894),28 a concession that took no notice of Indians living on the same land. Nor did the federal authorities have an accurate idea of the totality of resources existing in the zones involved in such large new grants. Moreover, the central government did not have close or satisfactory relationships with all the rich and powerful hacendado families, other than with the Torres-Corral clan. If the Torresses were allies and clients, the Maytorenas were thoroughly alienated from the Diaz regime. While the new programs of survey, irrigation preparations, land grants, and broad concessions were proceeding, the federal and Sonoran authorities made one more effort to arrive at a general "peace" with the Indians. This led to a meeting of Governor Ramón Corral, General Luis E. Torres, and other factotums with the Yaqui "leader" Tetabiate, who had been persuaded by one of the colonels to come to talk with the white people at Ortiz Station on May 15, 1897.19 The attempt was made to buy off Tetabiate, although, it is to be noted, promises made on this occasion for award of lands to the Indians were not later carried through. The surprising thing

146

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

about the whole affair, however, is that the Creole and mestizo leaders were willing to deal with Tetabiate simply in his capacity as a guerrilla leader. He did not claim to represent the eight Yaqui towns (none of whose officials were present at the meeting), nor did he give the satisfaction of styling himself as leader among the Yaquis. 50 The effort of which this meeting was one incident continued for two years more, including attempts to break the leadership roles played by the eight town governments and to bring Yaqui settlers closely under General Luis Torres's control." At first the efforts failed, degenerating into a series of attacks against Yaqui settlements. Finally, though, a formidable campaign into the hills and mountains resulted by 1902 in splintering Yaqui guerrilla forces so badly that organized resistance ceased for a time.®1 One of the general objectives in view, however—to make of the Yaquis a mobile and reliable labor supply for the economic development of the valley and of other parts of Sonora"—had long since been lost, as so much of the Indian population had fled the region or had died during the hostilities, although some of the Yaquis were working on haciendas or in towns near the coast. What emerges from this sad history is the fact that the general government never made good any policy for the potentially rich lands of the valley. The government sought two objectives at once, Indian welfare and regional economic development. As things stood before 1910, those goals were almost mutually exclusive. The Indians, on the one hand, if ever a large number of them should return to their homeland, would still expect to hold the river valley as their own. On the other hand, the government's best hope to significantly expand economic production lay in attracting potent private investors, or a combination of large corporations and smallholding mestizo settlers. Perhaps both objectives, one for the Indians and the other for increased production, might have been pursued at one and the same time had the government been able to muster all available resources of information, funds, and skilled personnel. An effort might conceivably have succeeded in creating an economic enclave for the Indians within a zone where, simultaneously, mestizo settlement and large corporate operations were expanding. But the central government at Mexico City never saw the situation, in any such complete way, as calling for a unified program to tie the regional complexities usefully together. The Indians continued to be dealt with by one set of officials, and by soldiers a good deal of the time. 54 Private economic development was a different affair altogether, managed by other authorities, most of whom were at Mexico City. The latter officials did not visit the remote valley, which still lay far beyond the direct railroad line from Mexico City.

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

147

The government's geographic reconnaissance, land management, and irrigation works to benefit Yaqui Indians were all supposed to be dealt with by the Comisión Científica de Sonora, but that agency continued to take one step forward working at some project, then two steps backward during the next period of hostilities. In 1902 the federal authorities began to sell off a sizable fraction of the Yaqui towns' collective holdings, their ejido lands, letting them go in small plots to Indians and others. Later on the government encouraged a very large multipurpose irrigation and agricultural enterprise, the Richardson Construction Company,®5 to commence operations that would include sale of irrigation water to Yaqui Indians and to other farmers. But none of this amounted to useful, step-by-step policy to satisfy Indians, mestizo settlers, or hacendados. Finally, on the very eve of the Revolution, the minister of development recognized the need for basic study of the river basin. 36 The objective in view was to be the delivery of a permanent and reliable water supply to all businesses and farmers in the valley. By that time, toward the end of 1910, the Ministry of Development had in mind a combination of measures such as those being arranged for the Laguna District. For both the Yaqui and Nazas rivers the government was encouraging large private engineering companies to locate sites for major storage dams in the far-distant headwaters of those mighty streams. Government engineers would meantime be making thorough studies of the low-lying lands where water would be used in agricultural irrigation. Such efforts would presumably yield all necessary information bearing on river flow, geology, and agricultural alternatives. The larger number of farmers who would then be needed —once the dams were in and had stabilized the water supply—would be found in colonization of the two regions by Mexicans and by foreign immigrants. 37 Obviously, such a careful and technical approach might eventually solve the problems of taming the Rio Yaqui. But every step along the technological path of modernization involved more and more grants of privilege and property to white people and to mestizos. To proceed in this direction overlooked, and was likely further to complicate, the problems of making peace with the Indians and assuring them a satisfactory basis for their own autonomous lives. They were not likely to agree in any of the sweeping appropriations of their lands or waters. 33 For the time being the government did not worry about that. By 1906 the consistent policy was to disperse or eliminate the Yaqui people, so that economic development might proceed untroubled by guerrilla resistance such as the Indians might still wage from time to time. From 1908 onward many Indians were rounded up and transported to Yucatán. Most of them were already in far places in Sonora or in the United States, where numbers of them still live today. 39

148

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

Still, even a small number of people can make a respectable showing by guerrilla warfare in their own country. It was the Diaz regime and its local allies among Sonoran hacendados who were running out of time, not the shredded remainder of the Yaqui nation. The last move the federal government could make was a preliminary reconnaissance in 1910-1911 which was intended to be the last step before a large-scale, detailed study of the whole valley. That would also be one step toward making a contract for construction of a big storage dam. Meantime, after 1905 the budget and personnel of the Comisión Científica de Sonora dwindled to the scale of a mere holding operation equipped to do a minor amount of mapmaking. 40 As so often in federal policies of that day, the approach to problems of the Rio Yaqui had been mixed, composed of elements that would not combine. Affairs were now out of the hands of the regional commission, whose leaders had so often acted as agents of repression and terror. The Ministry of Development was planning to start all over again—to survey the lands, to attract industrious farmers, and to develop and distribute the water resource. In this bright new program late in 1910 there still seemed to be not the slightest awareness that many Yaqui people believed, now much more firmly than had their forebears a century before, that all the lands were their very own. At Mexico City there seemed to be no understanding, even after all the recent misery, that the arrival of large agribusinesses and Mexican farmers might once again lead to hostilities, frustration, and the uttermost in tragedy for all concerned.

THE RIVERS ON THE NORTHERN

BOUNDARY

Little though he realized it at the time, when Porfirio Diaz took office as president of Mexico the nation's interests were already seriously challenged by changing conditions beyond Mexico's northern frontier. That boundary, generally indicated in treaties with the United States in 1848 and 1853, was not yet marked through most of its course. And the treaties said nothing at all as to how much water each nation could take from the boundary rivers. Both the location of the boundary and, even more, the question of allotment of waters, became extremely serious matters beginning in the 1880s and continuing for many years afterward. Some of the major questions were settled by 1911, but a number of the most important problems were left for later generations to solve.41 The whole story of the rising importance of the Mexico-United States borderland is a sort of unknown epic, a major human development that still goes essentially unnoticed in both nations. We may think of this history as reflecting the growth of a large population in a single ecological zone,

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

149

but restricted and to some extent crippled by severe limiting conditions. One such condition is the diminishing of efforts and achievements attributable to the dividing influence of the boundary, while another is the longlasting lack of awareness of local problems on the part of both national governments. The first and most enduring focus for discord during Porfirio Diaz's presidency involved the El Paso-Paso del Norte 41 Valley, traversed by the great river known to Mexicans as the Rio Bravo del Norte and in the United States as the Rio Grande. Small populations on both sides of the river engaged in farming, with most of the activity on the Mexican side. There, a few thousand hectares were watered by canals, of which by far the largest was the old Acequia Madre, running from a dam located just a few miles below the point at which the river enters the valley. Until the 1870s the river brought more than enough water for the small farms and towns on its banks. Beginning in the late 1870s, however, the river's flow began to be reduced by sizable withdrawals far upstream in the Colorado country, now served by a railroad and filling up with settler farmers. Combined uses in Colorado and New Mexico meant that, in any year of little flow, the upstream users would take almost all the water, and the El Paso-Ciudad Juárez valley would have little or none. It was this recurring fact that brought outcries from Mexican and U.S. citizens in the valley and that stirred a controversy over allotment of water from the river. Likewise, it was the coming of particularly disastrous years during the 1880s and in 1894 that kept the controversy alive and finally brought joint action by the two national governments. Also during the 1880s and 1890s, at a time when international law relating to rivers had hardly begun to develop, both governments evolved positions from which to negotiate the difficult issues that arose. The first U.S. interest to make itself heard in Washington, D.C. comprised some people of the small town of El Paso who hoped to see an international dam built in the river and to ensure the local water supplies. They proposed this idea several years before the disastrously low river stages of 1888 emphasized that the valley's continuing problems would from time to time become catastrophic emergencies. As their spokesman to Washington the El Paso people sent Colonel Anson Mills, who was favorably known both in El Paso and to Mexicans on the other side of the stream. He carried the proposal for an international dam into high circles of the U.S. government. Meantime, on the Mexican side, some awareness of the rising problems was being transmitted to Mexico City by an engineer temporarily on the scene at Ciudad Juárez, by a Mexican consul residing in El Paso, and by the Mexican minister at Washington, who for a time took an active part.

150

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

In those years the political climate at Washington favored some sort of action to meet the problems of the valley. But as it proved, instead of choosing to pursue the dam project, the U.S. government approached Mexico with a proposal for a joint boundary commission. That plan was accepted and put into existence in 1889. 48 One group of experts would trace the boundary by land. Another set of officials would deal with the difficult problems of locating the boundary in the El Paso-Ciudad Juárez Valley, where the river's channel frequently shifted location and thus transferred pieces of land from one national jurisdiction to the other. Those commissioners working on the land boundary started out in 1891 and finished in 1896, having located the line from El Paso to the Pacific. Meantime, the other section of the commission—what came to be known as the "waters" section—was just undertaking its detailed job of identifying all those pieces of land, known as bancos, cut off by the river, preparatory to deciding which to award to the United States and which to Mexico. Concurrently, during the 1880s and 1890s, each government was slowly clarifying its own position on the larger question of how to allot the river water. The positions arrived at by the two national governments were radically different. The Mexican view assumed that water rights are created in rivers for riverbank owners only, and only by official action. One acquires a right by grant from constituted authority, and as indicated in laws and procedures established to guide that proper authority. In an international situation the national rights flow from a treaty. Thus Mexico expected that water rights in the valley would be known by inspecting the titles held by private and public users who were riverbank owners on both sides of the river. And the international division of waters would be effected by treaty dividing the water equally. The U.S. view was altogether different. Instead of using traditional riverbank (riparian) custom as was followed in the eastern states, the national government seized upon the criterion adopted by the western states, which based water rights on priority of use: where a beneficent use of water already existed, there a right should be recognized to exist. And the United States did not expect to negotiate on the basis that the entire course of the Rio Grande had to be thought of as an "international river," with water allocation being arranged in view of the whole river's total of water. On the contrary, the earliest U.S. position taken in this instance assumed the Rio Grande to be within U.S. power, save for that stretch serving as part of the U.S.-Mexico boundary, and it wanted no questions asked about how much water was being taken out of the stream in Colorado or New Mexico. Where the river served as boundary, in the El Paso-Ciudad Juárez Valley and on below to the sea, the United States was willing to discuss matters; even there, however, it seemed likely that it would wish to

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

151

negotiate on the basis of existing uses rather than of absolute equality of allotment between the two nations. Thus the early policies of the two nations on this issue were utterly opposed and were constructed from assumptions unlikely to combine. In the United States, a variety of interests already insisted that no limit be set on water withdrawals within the country, especially in Colorado but also in New Mexico. The number of acres in irrigation was still increasing in those states, as it had since the 1870s. Furthermore, John Wesley Powell and his U.S. Geological Survey firmly supported this position. Powell explained that the river's water had to be used along its upper course, where it could be efficiently captured and employed, and where it could be used rather than being lost to evaporation and percolation during the long journey downstream to the very limited quantities of good land in northern Mexico and in Texas. For Mexicans just south of the Rio Bravo, however, it was essential to have some guarantee of their annual water supply for farming and urban use, both of which were expanding. From the mid-1880s into the 1890s this viewpoint was represented in part by the desire for the international dam in the El Paso-Ciudad Juárez Valley, along with some guaranteed flow of water to replenish the dam. The Mexicans feared most of all a fait accompli against their interests, which seemed likely with the building of one dam after another in the upper reaches of the river, promising to settle the whole question by confining most of the water within the northern republic. To put this more specifically, during the 1880s and early 1890s the citizens of El Paso lobbied to have the U.S. government negotiate the building of the international dam. Colonel Anson Mills continued to put forward the idea. His views of the project were acceptable to Mexicans in Ciudad Juárez and probably to the Mexican national government as well; and he came close to having the project accepted by the U.S. government. But the years went by, and the dam was not built. Instead, Colonel Mills continued to serve with his Mexican opposite number in the waters section of the International Boundary Commission, United States and Mexico. That section was finally installed in February 1894, and given the complexity of the work then and later consigned to it, it is no surprise that this part of the commission has had a long life. The hope for a dam, however, dissolved in the daily work of identifying bancos and deciding to which nation to award them. The commission did such expeditious work and attracted so much public respect that in 1896 the U.S. and Mexican governments turned over to those commissioners the other question: How to decide upon allotments of river water for Mexican and U.S. users in the El Paso-Ciudad Juárez Valley.

152

Reconnoüering the Rivers: The Later Work

We cannot follow much farther the detailed history of all the controversies, tasks, negotiations, and political turnabouts, as important as they were at the time—and important as we may well see them today for the shining example this commission furnishes us of effective joint work solving problems for two neighboring nations. We must instead point to the increasing number of problems involving the boundary rivers, to the prevailing unwillingness of the two governments to settle most of the problems, and to the very different style with which Mexican and U.S. governments approached the increasingly controversial dealings involved all along the common frontier. Very soon after the establishment of the joint commission for the "waters" boundary, it became apparent that there were four zones in all in which the United States and Mexico would have to arrive at joint decisions. Beyond the El Paso-Ciudad Juárez Valley there was the far Pacific zone where the Rio Tijuana and other streams lay astride the international frontier. In addition, there was the low-lying delta region where the Colorado River flows southward to debouch in what we now call the Sea of Cortez. And there was the whole extent of the lower Rio Bravo del Norte, below the Juárez Valley on down to the sea. As the nineteenth century gave way to the twentieth, there were serious concerns in all four zones, and in no case was a settlement of controversy yet in sight. As for the different styles in taking up the problems, the Mexican government simply added responsibilities and work to the daily concerns of the one Mexican commissioner at Ciudad Juárez. Without additional staff, with no legal advice at hand, and with a tiny budget, this one engineercommissioner was expected to do all the added work involving the four zones of controversy and then to make recommendations upon which the Mexican foreign ministry could act. The Mexican government paid the price of this kind of economy of effort in the incidents that occurred along the Colorado River after 1900.44 The story of U.S. development in that zone is well known, being very much a part of the romantic North American saga of "reclaiming" barren open spaces beyond the hundredth meridian. Pioneers went to work there, inspired by a vision of the great civilization that would bloom in the desert as soon as water could be brought to the land. One of those pioneers did succeed in leading Colorado River water westward into the open country of Southern California. To do it he had to make a channel through Mexican territory, and his work was undetected until too late, after he had already diverted the water. The rest of the story is equally well known. The great river rose unexpectedly and, a number of times over several years, overwhelmed the new derivation works and finally threw enough water across the countryside to

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

153

create what we now call the Saltón Sea. A product of this whole project was the very rich and extensive Imperial Valley and other agricultural exploitations, all watered by the canal that moved through part of its course in Mexican territory. So in rapid succession the Mexican government learned that its territory had been violated and that the Colorado River regime was to remain upset for almost a decade. Mexico could now take comfort, however, from the fact that the large canal was, practically speaking, at its mercy. Loath to disturb the new arrangements that were already furnishing the wherewithal of many farmers in California, Mexico decided to bargain, hoping to obtain a part of the water being carried through its territory and to devote that portion to Mexican agribusinesses that promised to establish themselves in the vicinity. No matter that within a few years it proved that most of those businesses were owned by North Americans. Such was the price of not attending to the concerns along the border soon enough or thoroughly enough. Mexico then suffered another blow to its hopes when U.S. Secretary of State Elihu Root conducted a quick negotiation with the Mexican government that resulted in a treaty in 1906 to settle the question of water allotments and supply to the El Paso-Ciudad Juárez Valley. Mexico would have 60,000 acre feet of water each year. 45 But no dam would be built in the valley, and no damages would be paid in consideration of the losses to Mexican farmers during years when the river water had been used in Colorado rather than supplying the valley's farmers. Nor was the yearly allotment adequate, in view of the coming agricultural development of Mexican land within reach of the river. But Secretary Root wanted this treaty concluded quickly, so as to forestall other proposals he did not like as well and in order to block other agencies in the U.S. government from having their way with arrangements for the valley. So the treaty was signed, and with it went the main cause that had brought Colonel Anson Mills back to El Paso as advocate and later as commissioner. In that same year the Mexican government sent Ing. Fernando Beltrán y Puga to serve as Mexican commissioner, side by side with Colonel Mills. The two men did well together, but the situation was one of constantly rising activity, growing responsibility for the new Mexican appointee, and frequent frustration for him as well. As controversies deepened and the sense of urgency increased on both sides of the border, the United States brought more officials into action and created offices for various agencies. But the Mexican government simply heaped all the new work on Ing. Beltrán, all in all awarding him five simultaneous capacities in which he was the only Mexican representative working with, or against, a wide array of North American commissioners, inspectors, and resident officials. Beltrán

154

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

still had the small commission staff at Ciudad Juárez and still had to do all the complicated identification of bancos in that locality. Now he was also supposed to render competent opinions on all the other zones as well, from one end of the boundary to the other across that great traverse "from sea to shining sea." As commissioner from 1906 to 1914, he no doubt attacked the problems as he had done before in other parts of Mexico—going straight ahead, as thoroughly as possible, and emitting long and intelligent reports at every pause down those eventful years.46 Beltrán's many memorandums have been seen by the Mexican historian Ernesto Enriquez Coyro, who leaves us the impression of Beltrán as energetic, tireless, likely to chafe at limitations and opposition, and too inclined to make unjustifiable conclusions as to legal aspects of the work. Clearly, nothing so simple as a staggering load of work conducted in an atmosphere of absolute uncertainty could daunt Beltrán. If, as seems likely, he was functioning during all those years in something resembling utter isolation, he never lost his determination, even though his reports and suggestions so often went without the merest acknowledgment, and advice reached him only seldom. He had no lawyer by his side, and rarely during those years did the Ministry of Foreign Relations at Mexico City call in any lawyer to read through the growing piles of information arriving from the north frontier. So upon occasion Beltrán did act as his own legal adviser and did enter into temporary arrangements with the North Americans which can now be seen as too hospitable or too forthcoming. His government never seemed to notice, whatever he might do. If this had been all, Mexican interests might not have suffered. What was more hurtful to Mexico, however, was the fact that U.S. interests slowly became so much stronger, and so much more sophisticated, using those strengths that the powerful United States possessed in relations with the Mexico of those days. To put this in another way, the U.S. political and governmental system was very conscious of the Southwest and the Pacific Southwest in anything that might touch the changing political fortunes of leaders and parties in the United States. In some sense the southwestern scene represented a temporary vacuum of power into which were creeping federal agencies in search of expansion, great private corporations hoping for gain, and growing political careers seeking larger spheres of influence. So the scene of negotiations on and near the boundary slowly filled with these new interests and powers, all of them drawn from the United States: the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, the California state government, various water users' associations, the Southern Pacific railroad, the U.S. Geological Survey and its parent Department of the Interior, and so on and on. Mexico would have done well to have supplemented its sharp-eyed consul

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

155

at San Diego, California with many other observers stationed along the boundary and in the nearby North American cities and towns. At any moment, after all, one of the U.S. contenders for power might level a demand at Mexico which might not be resistible if it should prove to be backed by enough other U.S. interests. Likewise, if Mexico wanted something badly, it might find it could not have it for reason of some combination of interests among all these busy North Americans. How all this power emanating from the United States could operate even in small matters was clear in the case of the International Boundary Commission (Waters), United States and Mexico. Beltrán found himself dealing with North American representatives who, it seemed to him, barred any cooperative action for the Colorado River. He believed, in fact, that some of the representatives confronting him from across the table did not care, in all truth, what the facts and the outlook might be, and that they sustained positions and insisted on factual interpretations merely to delay action so that U.S. interests could commit all the water before any international allocations were made. As for Commissioner Anson Mills of the United States, he never did receive power to work on any but the problems directly facing him at El Paso, that same job of locating a practical boundary line among the bancos there. Despite his depth of experience with problems in the zone, his opinion was not asked. It was easy enough to keep Colonel Mills out of all the other, bigger issues. He was not himself an engineer and was not even a West Point graduate. He had no political base outside the city of £1 Paso and no new issue to represent. Moreover, his attention was periodically taken away by the ups and downs of his small manufactory on the eastern seaboard (Mills was a man of penetrating intelligence with a practical bent, and years later his cartridge pocket and belt combinations would be taken up by armies, making him a millionaire in his happy declining years). Mills's last big moment came in 1910 when the commission was temporarily elevated to the status of an international arbitral tribunal. That case found Mills as the U.S. judge, Beltrán as the Mexican, and a Canadian appointee in the third chair, the three deciding the fate of that greatest and most notorious of all bancos, El Chamizal, 47 a portion of land transferred across the boundary by one of the wanderings of the Rio Bravo. The long negotiation taxed not at all Mills's respect for others or his redoubtable quality of attracting good will from those with whom he dealt. He concurred in the U.S. decision not to honor the opinion of the tribunal, which had favored Mexico. By that time Mills had lost any real power beyond the commission itself; he had seen his engineer aide replaced by one not in sympathy; and he was vulnerable to removal from his post at almost any turn of affairs in Washington, as one political party or faction

156

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

succeeded another. In the end, Milk went into retirement without the larger accomplishments he might have helped to further had the United States in his time felt the need for a negotiator who gained respect as easily among Mexicans as among his own people. All during those years Mexico depended upon Beltrán to guard and advance its national interest, while over against his efforts stood more and more of the hard-eyed men of the Corps of Engineers, the Geological Survey, and the rest. Their achievement was in outnumbering Beltrán and in outflanking Mills. Up to 1911, however, the phalanx of North American officials did not accomplish all they might have in the whole array of controversies relating to the border rivers. As nearly as one can say without intensive study of the matter, what restrained the United States from further gains at Mexico's expense was a series of countervailing shifts among the numerous U.S. interests with involvements in the lands and waters of the boundary zones. As for the Rio Colorado, the most that could be achieved was a temporary modus operandi to deal with the diversions and uses of river water on both sides of the border. For the El Paso-Ciudad Juárez valley, the commission with Anson Mills and Fernando Beltrán y Puga kept working away at the problem of bancos and eliminated most of them from contention.48 That work would continue successfully and usefully, enhanced by a special treaty of 1905 created for the purpose. As for the Pacific terminus of the border, and as for the lower Rio Bravo, these were beyond the capacities of both national governments to deal with at the time. The attempts initiated by U.S. Secretary of State Root to bring all three remaining controversial zones together in one negotiation—thus to solve the Tijuana, Colorado, and lower Bravo difficulties—finally foundered, or simply remained incomplete, for the lack of enough expert people with time available to them to work out solutions.4* Later, after General Victoriano Huerta held power in Mexico in 1913, he blocked any further progress in these negotiations in an effort to induce the United States to give official recognition to his regime. All the boundary matters had to wait until the 1920s, when Mexico's government was ready and able to resume discussions.50 It was no surprise that the fieldwork along the border, and the negotiations in the capital cities, could accomplish so little at that time. To take one brief example to indicate the preliminary difficulties encountered in early stages of discussion, before any final settlements could be proposed, there was the question of navigability of the Rio Bravo. The treaty of 1848 had prohibited either nation from impeding the river's navigability, and to have that warning hanging in the air meant that first one party, then the other, could use the issue of "navigability" to stall discussions at crucial moments. It required much time and effort up to 1910-1911 to finally

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

157

accomplish the task of dispelling this intermediate issue from the bargaining table so that useful steps could be taken to get at the basic problems. Finally, neither government before 1911 devoted enough expert personnel to the boundary work." This reminds us that one of the real difficulties in the picture would take some time to overcome: the basic problem was that the borderland had neither the wealth nor the population as yet to hope to attract a strong enough effort on the part of either of the national governments. The Río Magdalena in the Federal District One of the consistent policies of Porfirio Diaz's regime during its final two decades was to attend to one stage after another of the increasing problem of providing public services in the city of Mexico and elsewhere in the Federal District. The population kept growing surprisingly and problems multiplied. Among these problems was verification of title to waters, so that concessions could be granted to private companies undertaking to bring Xochimilco water into the city. A great deal of money was spent in laying water piping, providing drainage into sewers, paving streets, and organizing street-cleaning brigades. At least one river came under study, and so carefully that the federal government was able to issue a reglamento governing the twenty-four holders of rights, who had been designated originally in 1789, 51 to receive water for irrigation. The reglamento also specified the amounts to be received by six hydroelectric plants and six factories. As had been necessary when dealing with colonial grants on the Rio Atoyac, the government had to estimate the original proportions of the river's flow, which had been expressed so long before in surcos. And that formula merely specified the dimensions of the water intake for each property. As the reglamento's wording represents this difficulty and its solution for the Río Magdalena in 1907, "The Measurements not being.. . those that are usual and sanctioned by law," each owner was granted his "proportional part" of the river's flow. It is clear enough from the list of irrigation rights provided with the reglamento that the engineers did modify the 1789 awards, increasing some rights while decreasing others.5® Some day we will find out why the federal engineers made these adjustments in age-old rights—some day, when the papers of this project come to the surface somewhere within the vaults of the Departamento del Distrito Federal. As with any such reglamento, the declaration of rights was but the beginning of a long and wearing process whereby the holders of those rights could be made to believe that they had to install and keep in good repair the works required by the federal government. Also, if any modifications in

158

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later Work

the reglamento were desired, those had to be submitted to the Ministry of Development by a monitoring group, the junta directiva, representing all holders of water rights. The junta also had the responsibility of policing the stream to be sure that riverbank owners were not abusing their rights and that noxious substances were not released into the water. The first stage of work, done by engineers from the Ministry of Development, consisted in establishing specific requirements for the facilities to be installed by each owner. When those works were finished, they were to be inspected, and all that was still going on in the summer of 1909.54 The junta directiva had only then taken shape and was about to meet for the first time. 55 Already there were serious matters to be dealt with: shortage of water for several of the larger populations that held rights in the river, and pollution of the stream by several of the factories." Presumably the Revolution was upon them all before the interested parties had worked out all aspects of the viable system of management spelled out in the reglamento. At least one gain was made here, however, that had eluded the federal authorities in other more distant places not under federal political control. Plans always called for creation of a committee of users who would make the specific rules and work out the day-to-day and week-to-week problems, without need for constant federal supervision. Here on the Río Magdalena the federal authorities stopped talking about that ideal step and did something about it: they turned the matter over to the Secretaría de Gobernación, the federal policing agency, and the secretaría simply told a number of representatives to form the local junta. It remained to be seen whether the junta could make itself respected and obeyed. The Nazas Project, and. Guatimapé In the fall of 1908 the Ministry of Development arranged a contract with S. Pearson and Son, a Mexican corporation born of the English engineering firm that did so many important things in Mexico, to study the Cañón de Fernández on the Río Nazas. 5 ' The idea was to find the best site for a large storage dam to serve irrigation agriculture and hydroelectric power generation, and to stabilize the annual water supply for the fast-growing municipalities along the river. This was to be the first irrigation work of scale that Mexico's government had ever projected. The hope was that this one operation would do away with the uncertainty and conflict among cotton producers along the river. The initial projection was for a series of works that would not only include one or more storage dams but would also contain an artificial canal to carry the river water as many as sixty to ninety kilometers down the slope from one property to another, replacing the river's own course as the dis-

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

159

tribution channel. This would be a most useful feature, because from time to time the Nazas in its highest flow raged beyond its bed and created widespread damage in the cotton plantings. After finding the sites for dams, the engineers would locate the best places for hydroelectric facilities. All this reconnaissance, geologic probing, and planning was to be completed within eight months, and Pearson agreed to do the preliminary surveys and studies free of charge if the firm should later gain the contract for the works themselves.5* Pearson's field party was strongly supported by engineers of the Comisión Inspectora del Rio Nazas. But by early 1909 the foreign engineers had found that the site recommended by Francisco Madero, in the Cañón de Fernández, could not be the location for any dam because no watertight structure could be found there.5* Nor were other conditions in the canyon such as would recommend a large project there. The search continued, and, after working at five other sites, Pearson reported that the very best place was in Palmito Canyon far upstream. By the time these formal findings were at hand, however,*0 some doubts seem to have arisen as to the advisability of Pearson's specific findings. Or perhaps there were worries as to the competence of the fieldwork itself, which was being conducted in difficulties because of hostility on the part of some landowners who did not favor the idea of a huge dam. And by that time another project involving the Rio Nazas was being advocated, a suggestion for tunneling through to the Nazas so as to bring the waters of Lake Guatimapé to join those of the river. This idea came from the Comisión Geográfico-Exploradora, and during 1908 and 1909 its engineers were in the field several times to canvass the possibilities and to try to identify any disabling difficulties. These same field missions looked at the possibilities for bringing the Rio del Tunal to add to the Nazas. But the more information the commission gathered, the shakier the whole prospect began to appear. None of these secondary possibilities for increasing the flow of the Nazas seemed viable after all.*1 The upshot was that in February 1910 a special commission took shape, the minister of development appointing the three members to examine both sets of reports—those from Pearson on the Nazas project and those from the Comisión Geográfico-Exploradora concerning the Guatimapé tunnel. This study group included three of the most outstanding hydraulic experts in Mexico: Roberto Gayol, Manuel Vera, and Manuel Marroquín y Rivera.68 A long delay then ensued while this commission tried to obtain from Pearson some missing field notes originally taken during the survey in Palmito Canyon. After looking over all the rest of the data carefully, the commission still doubted that Pearson's report could be considered acceptable. The reason given was that the notes taken at the Palmito site did not

160

Reconnoitering

the Rivers: The Later

Work

contain evidence that borings had been made to locate a watertight bottom for the projected reservoir. Some shallow borings had occurred, but impermeable rock had not been discovered, at least not as seen in those notes that reached the commission. The other notes were still not to be found, and they never did turn up. To this preliminary opinion by the commission, Pearson's people had answered that there had indeed been trouble with the borings. Better machinery had had to be sent for. It did arrive, and of course they went ahead with it and found solid bottom at the site, or else they never would have recommended the Palmito location at all. The commission then laid this matter aside for a time, probably still hoping to find the missing field notes. Meanwhile the commission looked closely into the other plan, the one that would bring water from Lake Guatimape to the Rio Nazas by tunnel. Here there were too many disqualifying weaknesses. Great quantities of water would be lost en route, suggesting that what little could arrive in the Nazas would have been moved at heavy expense per unit. The commission advised, therefore, against studying this plan any further. Whether there was more to the rejection of Pearson's report than appears on the surface is hard to say, with so few facts in view. The question does arise, however, because the site indicated by Pearson's field party is the precise spot at which Mexico's government later chose to build the large storage dam. It may also be significant that none of the members of this study group had ever taken part in planning or building a huge dam, although each of these three was of unquestionable competence and experience up to that point. It is safe to say, in any event, that there are many possible explanations for the commission's rejection of the Pearson report. The commissioners were "on the spot" in the sense that no Mexican engineer seems to have accompanied the Pearson team in all its work in Palmito Canyon. Had the commission accepted Pearson's findings, the result might have been a quick launching of the dam project—with the commission in a sense liable to criticism if any major problem were then to come to light. And for all we know there may have been some personality conflict here. Further, national pride may have played a part. But the most likely explanation for rejecting the report is also the most obvious. These three commissioners had spent their professional careers in Mexico working in the presence of too little information. They always had to make extra efforts to obtain even the most basic facts. In this case, in 1910, they may well have understood how a single sheaf of field notes could be mislaid in the rough and physically dangerous conditions in which Pearson's engineers had lived and worked. But the notes were not there, and there was no proof that a large dam at Palmito could hold water. Much as they might have regretted doing so, the commissioners laid aside this fine project. Fifteen years would

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

161

pass before the government turned again to this necessary work of selecting sites for huge dams in regions dominated by those formidable, torrential river systems. 1910: A VIEW TO THE FUTURE These were the major projects in which the federal government took part during the years just before the Revolution. All had been difficult to carry forward at a time of fiscal emergency, economic upset, bad crop years, and depression, even before the coming of serious labor troubles and then nationwide civil strife. There were probably accomplishments other than are seen in this fragmentary account, which touches only those projects for which records are now known. Elsewhere in Mexico and working on smaller scales, officials had accomplished a great deal at the same time in developing and undertaking more effective supervision of water supplies for irrigation purposes." As for the efforts of the Ministry of Development in undertaking to manage or to supervise the distribution of river water, the most responsible official was Manuel Vera, who for years had been serving as head of the ministry's Section Five. His were the essential tasks of making sure that fíeldwork fully carried out the federal policies and that new information from the field was reflected in future policymaking. In mid-1910 he made a full public statement of the varieties of work coming into the section, of the problems at hand and in view, and of specific projects and policies most clearly within the ministry's reach.' 4 He was sure that the ministry's work had gone in the right direction. The objective was to put each user of river water in the role he should have, both in view of his own private rights and, equally, in consideration of the public welfare and the pressing needs for economic development and growth. Vera pointed to the few projects the section's engineers did complete after years of effort—those of the Atoyac-Nexapa, the San Juan del Rio, the Culiacán-San Lorenzo, the Río de la Laja in Guanajuato State, and a part of the Rio Colorado.*5 He felt there was no question but that these studies were bringing benefits that indicated the importance of all such work. It was equally true, however, that expenses had been heavy, and that some studies were not yet complete. The question remained, therefore, whether all the efforts up to that time had justified their cost. These were the same doubts expressed not long before by Inspector of Waters Fernando Beltrán y Puga after his extensive investigation in the watershed of the Río San Juan del Rio. Manuel Vera felt that agriculture and factories now had to develop side

162

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

by side for optimal increases in both farm and industrial production. Great supplies of power had to be at hand for agriculture and industry, and only a nationwide development of water resources could accommodate any such simultaneous expansion of all these economic sectors. So Vera arrived at the central point of his exposition, his insistence upon rapid reconnaissance of Mexico's important drainage basins. This would have to be done by government, because private entrepreneurs would not be able to carry through projects whose benefits were not immediate or profitable. The objectives in such a national survey, Vera thought, should be kept simple and should be seen at first only in broad outlines, the main point being to verify the locations of such sizable rivers and extents of irrigable lands as to indicate with certainty the "target zones" for great irrigation projects and combined irrigation-hydroelectric works. As Vera put it, "the program started in so few words becomes vast in detail." It would require topographical and engineering information that would accurately indicate specific sites for storage dams, power-generating plants, and extensive scopes of irrigable land. In fact, in outlining his national hydrographic reconnaissance, Vera showed plainly how much more had to be done in studying any drainage basin than the government's engineers had yet been able to accomplish. The results of the kind of study he had in mind would contain all the economic information needed either by government—in selecting one site rather than another in view of total foreseeable benefits for the people involved—or by private investors—in deciding whether to undertake a power, industrial, water-marketing, or agricultural operation for profit. By showing in detail just how many varieties of information were needed for a useful census of major sources of river flow, Vera was passing judgment on studies recently done under his own supervision. More importantly, he was recounting the lessons learned in Mexico through twenty years of mounting degrees of federal intervention in, and control of, the use of rivers. The general lesson he drew out of the experience of his daily work in the ministry was that all studies had to be much more detailed if they were to be at all useful in Mexico's future. He also clearly stated that river systems had to be in the hands of the government, entrusted to careful observation by permanent government missions at the sites. Moreover, all studies and all other efforts had to be bent toward practical results. In the immediate future, therefore, it was overridingly important to make certain that modernization be undertaken only at those places promising results on the largest scale for farming, industries, and power generation. If this was Vera's general view of Mexican river basin administration— past, present, and future—he also showed in detail to how small an extent the government had yet set its hand to working in those regions where the

Reconnoitering the Rivers: The Later Work

163

greatest and most expeditious changes might be expected. From his list of nearly fifty drainage basins in Mexico, he could point to only ten that called for earliest attention. And in these ten zones most indicated for major efforts as soon as possible, permanent inspection teams of engineers were present in only one, the Lerma-Chapala-Santiago system. He felt it most urgent, therefore, to dispatch teams of four engineers each into all ten zones, and also to locate other teams of that same strength permanently in every Mexican state. The message in Vera's memorandum of 1910, then, was that all the studies conducted to date, and all the plans for administration and modification of river regimes and engineering works, had had small effect and could hardly be called beginnings of a huge task. In effect, they had amounted to a parceling out of expert time to deal with urgent work called for by entrepreneurs who needed immediate and on-the-spot help. It was now time to pass beyond this early, useful, and primarily regulatory stage to that new and enhanced phase of government effort in which prime attention would be bent toward obtaining economic growth and development for all the people. In retrospect, after almost three-quarters of a century, Manuel Vera's message seems to have been a most reasonable one in its time. The government's efforts at study and regulation of river systems before the coming of the Revolution were of high quality and real use to future administrators. But these efforts also represented a passing phase, a series of disjointed endeavors. Each flurry of work in the field had been dictated by the central government's view that it existed chiefly to advance the interests of property owners, and especially of those on the point of making very large investments. Now, in 1910 and afterward, an increasing number of those persons serving Mexico's government wished to do more effective work, to lead and to shape a new awakening of national economic achievement on a scale not earlier imagined.

6 Bringing Law to Policy

As the nineteenth century came to a close and the Mexican economy continued to both expand and diversify, as well as to place still greater demands upon limited resources, it became clear that an urgent need existed to clarify the legal bases both for private water rights and for government action in that regard. How strongly could governments act in Mexico as referees among different private interests? How far could they go as initiators of policies to encourage the lagging agricultural sector and the rising need for energy? As one authority saw the situation at the time: In the present state of our legislation the laws, reglamentos, and ordinances— which have ruled and still rule the important subject of waters — are found scattered among the former Spanish laws, in collections of [Mexican] legislation, or in our Codes. As a consequence they do not present [a picture either of] unity or of harmony, and they do [contain] difficulties which have occasioned discussions and a great number of litigations in the courts.1 This expert pointed to the need for "necessary reforms in our legislation" and emphasized that it was particularly urgent to write a law "that can regulate the use of waters in behalf of agriculture and industry." 8 He further concluded that "sooner or later" the various governments in Mexico, in order to permit agriculture to develop, had to take in hand "the transcendental problem: the organization of the streams." What he meant by this was to make full use of the surface and subterranean waters by "the sum total of private and public works that have as their immediate object the increase of agricultural wealth."® This commentator, Antenor Pérez de Yarto, understood that such full 164

Bringing Law to Policy

165

exploitation of Mexico's water resource was as much an economic as a legislative problem. He was inclined to see the whole enterprise as of the same or even greater importance as had been accorded in its time to improving communication by providing Mexico with railroads. The use of water was a much more central concem, he thought, because it constituted the creation of new sources of wealth. To bring forth the water resource was to work at the base of the increase of wealth itself and to advance the founding of new industries, whereas communications could really act only as so many efficient means of disseminating wealth already created. Finally, Perez de Yarto asserted that "the time for agricultural works has come" but that the necessary thrust in that direction was still being restrained by the confusion, the litigation, and even by those "disturbios" brought on by uncertainty as to water rights in agricultural development. Other commentators of that day were equally at a loss to find the sure pathway through the disorganized and infertile thicket of Mexican water laws. Mention has already been made of the resentment and scom to be sensed in writings on this subject by Wistano Luis Orozco and Andres Molina Enriquez, both of whom had suffered for years in trying to work in a practical way with both public powers and private rights as these were distorted by the uncertain doctrines that served as the legal framework. A young law Student and future minister of development, Rafael Hernändez, in writing his thesis in legal studies in the year 1900, concluded that in whatever affects waters, our legislation could not be more deficient than it is... absolutely deficient and in my view even unconstitutional because in addition to the fact that [laws of the national congress] give great powers to the Federal government, thus witnessing to the centralizing tendencies to be seen in [still] other laws, with [consequent] decrease in the sovereignty of the States, the courts' extremely broad interpretations of the precepts [given in these Federal laws] also contribute a very great deal to this constant administrative centralization.4

This objection by an outspoken Student did not signify automatic advocacy of states' residual rights, as we might assume in reading Hernandez's words today. He was pointing to two related difficulties that were indeed confusing legislative proceedings and judicial deliberations and that would continue to act as drags upon the course of public policymaking and administration until the very end of the Diaz regime. The more obvious of the two was the fact that the Law of June 5, 1888, the nearest approach to a Statute governing water rights in Mexico, had given an incomplete definition of federal Jurisdiction and consequently had left both State and private rights equally uncertain. The two most operative definitions in the law, indicating where federal writ should run, mentioned those streams that

166

Bringing Law to Policy

served as avenues of communication and those that served as international boundaries or as boundaries between two or more Mexican states. These definitions may sound clear enough until one remembers that almost any self-respecting river comes equipped with a surprisingly extensive network of tributaries: smaller rivers, brooks, creeks, lakes, and springs, let alone those other streams of water that we have no names for because they move below the surface and are never seen. So the first question to arise—whether all tributaries of federal streams also came within federal jurisdiction—was unanswered in the Waters Law. Much worse was the fact that since 1888 the federal practice had been to assert and assume power over a series of stream courses of which some answered to the definition of federal authority and some did not. By 1900, therefore, the central government was in possession of administrative control over several rivers that had never been navigable or useful in any way as avenues of communication. Federal authorities had also asserted control over still other watercourses that merely crossed a state line at some one point rather than serving "throughout their courses" as dividing boundaries between states. Another way of putting the difficulty is that those who saw their best opportunity for water rights through state government action were inclined to resent and resist the federal policy of assuming power suddenly and without warning. Others favored the federal policy of taking control because they saw their own most promising future in relations with the president of the republic, one of his intimates, some federal bureaucrat, or with a federal legislator. They might even have preferred to appear before federal rather than state courts. If the defenders of states' jurisdictions were asked how they would remedy the abuses they thought they were suffering, they could answer in any of three ways. The simplest way out would be for federal bureaucrats to desist from their steady appropriations of power: to stop claiming one stream after another in the name of the national government. Or, the national congress could change, clarify, and thus narrowly confine federal authority by modifying the Law of June 5, 1888, by writing a new law, or even by changing the federal constitution. Finally, if neither administrators nor legislators would respond to reason, there was a faint hope that interpretation in the courts could set matters right. This could be done if only the judges would take full notice of the old Spanish terms that had been in use in Mexico throughout the colonial period and also at intervals during the nineteenth century, both in statutes and in some provisions of the civil code set down in 1870 and in 1884. Those Spanish definitions clarified such distinctions as those among properties belonging to the state as its own possessions, on the one hand, and property held by the state for the nation, for all the people, on the other.

Bringing Law to Policy

167

The terms of course made very clear which varieties of property were to be thought of as private (for instance, because deeded by the state to some private person), which were inalienable, and so on. The critiques being offered on every side were, in other words, reasonable enough in the sense that they argued that traditional usage and surviving legal definitions had to continue to govern practice. These critiques were timely, too, as we have seen in reviewing the tangles relating to water rights in the Rio Nazas and Rio Aguanaval, some of whose riverbank owners went ahead in resisting federal authority to the end of the Diaz presidency and beyond. They did this partly because their readings of the laws and of judges' interpretations gave them hope that justice lay on their side and must eventually give them victory over the federal government itself. If, however, one were not a property owner but a federal legislator or judge, one might well worry when reflecting that the Law of June 5, 1888, upon which the federal government was now resting its acquisitive policies, was not a freestanding statute. It had been brought forward as an enabling law, one of those needed to give specific, down-to-earth definition to a brief passage within Article 72 of the federal constitution. And that fraction of that article dealt not with water rights but with means of communication. Thus one might be justified in maintaining that the whole piecemeal development of federal policy in stream-course utilization and water rights rested not so much upon a broken reed as upon one that grew in a forbidden field. How could the federal administrators pretend that their distribution of river water for agriculture was somehow an exercise in regulating an avenue of communication? How could they act in the guise of judges, dealing from day to day with riparian rights, if they had no constitutional mandate, no magic wording that told them to "Go forth from this place and say who may take water from the streams"? Something had to be done, and soon, if all the persons and powers concerned could hope to work peaceably with one another in these important matters, with the sense of mutual respect which comes with the presence of a law one understands and recognizes as the embodiment of justice. From time to time the congress tried to lay this whole disturbing problem to rest. But during the early years of this century the feeling had grown that the constitution itself had to change if the federal executive was to have a clear authority in water rights and river management. The whole matter had finally come to a question of the legitimacy of public power and how to state that clearly. That difficulty, lying at the base of federal administrative power, would finally be addressed when in mid-1910 the senate committees then preparing a constitutional change recalled that the minister of development had recently taken up the whole matter and had

168

Bringing Law to Policy

quickly come to recognize that the "water l a w . . . lacked any firm basis, because in our Constitution there was no clear or exact precept which would uphold the power or justify the action of the Federal authority— which in itself was every day more helpful, useful, and productive."' By that time, in 1910, everyone involved was prepared to accept the impossibility of going ahead with the existing wording of Article 72 of the constitution. Those phrases did no more than furnish a definition for federal action which resulted in limiting the scope of administrative control to those few streams that served as navigable waterways or that lay along the U.S. boundary with Mexico. So the whole question of constitutional authority would finally be faced in 1909,1910, and 1911. Meanwhile, the federal government had to try to proceed by patching things up through a series of laws permitting and encouraging specific activities. This means that for a time the central government went ahead as if the legal-constitutional question did not exist. One wonders why the federal authorities felt that in a country like Mexico, with the people's strong sensitivity to justice and to proper conduct in public affairs, such basic questions would somehow simply put themselves on the shelf or be postponable forever. As early as 1891 the Ministry of Development had turned to one of Mexico's most revered figures and most outstanding legal authorities, asking him to clarify the question of the extent of federal authority within a river basin believed to contain a "federal" stream as defined in the Law of June 5,1888. By that time the question about tributaries—whether they were to be considered in federal jurisdiction once the main stream was so classified —had already become an important matter. The Ministry of Communications and Public Works was slowly proceeding to classify all main streams on the basis of reports and other facts received from authorities of different states. The Ministry of Development needed some criterion to refer to, some legal basis upon which to stand, when it came to confirming existing water rights. Those confirmation procedures were laid down in the Law of June 5, 1888, and a great many holders of rights had already gone through the administrative steps necessary to have their right to water confirmed forevermore. But were these people really receiving anything at all, any confirmation of a property right, in these actions by federal authority? The legal authority, Ignacio Vallarta, stipulated before responding that he would not attempt to construe all the main points raised in the writings on the subject. Nor would he think of "embarking upon the immense legal and scientific difficulties which our legislation presents in all that relates to waters." 6 He decided not to enter into all the conflicting decisions and other possible source materials that had appeared over the years in Mexican legal practice and commentary. This was his decision, he said, because

Bringing Law to Policy

169

in that body of writing "rather than definite doctrine to follow we find more than mere deficiency in the law, more than mere anarchy in the opinion of the jurisconsults," and the result of combing over everything anyone had written would merely be to become enmeshed in "inextricable difficulties." 7 He felt that civil legal records offered no guide, and that the answer to the question had to be sought in the constitutional writings themselves. Having made these stipulations, Vallarta answered clearly and definitely. He first referred briefly to Roman and to Spanish law, showing how clearly they had established the doctrine that tributaries take the legal status of the main stream into which they flow. He stressed the point because, as he noted, the Mexican constitution did not say otherwise and so the ancient and medieval precedents had to be followed. So far Vallarta seemed to be saying to the federal authorities that their power would be properly used in the subsidiary small streams contributing to those larger ones that the Law of June 5, 1888 had given into federal jurisdiction. Vallarta had made his first point, however, only on the way to raising the most inconvenient of all questions, which he might have put in these words: If it is clear that federal jurisdiction extends into tributaries, which are the main streams to which such jurisdiction applies? The answer Vallarta developed to his own question was disquieting, to say the least. First he established that the only known guides to federal action were the Law of June 5, 1888 and the constitutional provision for which that law was written as an enabling statute. Thus one could discover which should be the "federal" streams by noticing that the ruling provision of the constitution, in Article 72, spoke only of the power of the federal government to write laws applying to "general avenues of communication." To the degree that the Law of June 5, 1888 stayed within that scope, it could be considered constitutional and binding. Then Vallarta showed that in Mexican law, as in parallel cases adjudicated in the United States, the only "general" avenues of communication were those that joined two or more states or that constituted a communications link between Mexico and some foreign nation. So, said Vallarta, only those provisions of the Law of June 5, 1888 which followed this definition could be considered valid. The others had to be seen as exceeding the limitation set by the constitutional provision the law was supposed to define in detail. Vallarta's answer, therefore, came in several parts. To him there were only a few rivers in Mexico that could be taken into federal jurisdiction. These were the streams that were navigable—or otherwise useful in communications—and that crossed state boundaries or touched an international frontier. All parts of the drainage basins of such streams had to

170

Bringing Law to Policy

come within "federal" jurisdiction. But Vallarta also made it crystal clear that he believed the federal authorities had no claim to power over streams or other deposits of water lying within but a single state. Nor could the central government exercise control over any stream not used in communications, no matter how many state boundaries it might cross. It emerged that Vallarta had been making these basic points to the minister of development ever since the passage of the Law of June 5, 1888. The crucial point was that the law contained several definitions of "federal" streams which had no support in the constitution of Mexico. But despite his clear reassertion of these points, and despite his opinion that there were serious legal flaws at the base of federal policy, the central government authorities who had asked Vallarta for his opinion would continue to use any and all provisions of the Law of June 5, 1888 for almost twenty years to come. In 1894 the federal congress ventured into another zone of difficulty when it sent to the president a law specifying eligibilities and procedures for those who might seek concessions of water rights for irrigation or for use in power generation. This law contained the familiar varieties of incentives for prospective concessionaires: exemption for five years from certain customs taxes and other imposts, the right to construct works in lands vacant of private title, and the right to condemn private lands needed for the projects. These incentives would be available even to those concessionaires who had obtained their water rights from Mexican states and who would be placing their projects along streams not within federal jurisdiction. This law of June 6, 1894 was supposed to protect Mexico's interests by specifying the various administrative steps an applicant had to take along the way to gaining a concession. There also was provision for a deposit to be made by the applicant to ensure the recovery of the government's expenses in case the applicant failed to comply with conditions shown in the concession. But legal confusion is still noticeable in this law. It gave the federal authorities power to regulate the use of streams only within the Federal District and in the Territories, whereas the previous law of 1888 had already stated the scope of federal power much more broadly—to apply to any stream defined as located within federal jurisdiction.' Two years later a federal law provided for confirmation of private water rights granted by states for use of water in streams that later came into federal jurisdiction. This law was to apply only to those concessions given by states after the passage of the federal Waters Law of June 5, 1888 —after that date, but before such time as the federal government had declared the stream in question to lie within its control. What appears in the wording of this law is that the federal government was not yet ready with enough information about Mexico's rivers, and

Bringing Law to Policy

171

about property rights associated with those streams, to go ahead confidently in granting new concessions as foreseen in the Waters Law of 1888. As yet the central authorities had no idea how much water flowed in the various rivers, or how much of the flow might still be uncommitted. Nor was there any systematic record of water rights granted during or since the Spanish colonial period. So this law of 1896 gave all holders of private rights a single, year-long opportunity to come forward to request federal confirmation of their rights. Confirmation would be granted by the Ministry of Development where no opposition had yet arisen. If someone was opposing the right whose confirmation was being requested, the government would withhold confirmation until a court had decided the merits of the case. And the government had to indemnify some persons who had gone ahead to undertake applications for new water rights between 1894 and 1896. That is, if it should prove for a given river that the existing legal uses had committed all the water, the government would return to the new applicant an amount equal to expenses incurred in preparing the application. This last provision made very clear how the federal government was pushing itself into the whole matter of river management before it was equipped to take an effective supervisory role. Administratively speaking, it was inefficient to legislate as was being done here. The new law forced the government to await the arrival at Mexico City of all possible statements of existing rights before determining whether new concessions might be feasible to grant. But for the time being the federal congress simply laid down this procedure, giving the central government heavy responsibility with no practical means to deal with it expeditiously. The response by the executive was what we have already seen: to engage the services of an experienced field engineer, Ramón de Ibarrola, and to send him to one region after another where new applications following the 1894 law were of doubtful merit, until someone could come and look over the whole river system in detail. The next attempt to clarify and simplify questions of jurisdiction, use, and property in waters appeared in parts of a broad law of 1902 which appears to have set out to alter and clarify aspects of the civil code as it bore on public properties that were parts of communications facilities. The law touched on many specific points, such, for instance, as how far national territory might be considered to extend outward into the oceans. That matter was decided by asserting that Mexico's territory would stretch twenty kilometers to seaward from the line of mean low tide. 9 As for watercourses within the country and their legal standing, several important provisions were made which probably arose from the legal difficulties and partial policies in which the central government was enmeshed at the time.

172

Bringing Law to Policy

The most important point in this regard was that no private party could establish, or claim retrospectively, property rights in the waters of streams consigned to federal management. Here the congress, returning to the long-standing Spanish terms identifying the status of property, declared "federal" streams to be in the public domain and of common use and thus subject to regulation from time to time by the central government. One might use water from such streams, but one could never claim to have established a right to any given amount of water in the stream itself. That is, one could not think of a "federal" stream as a kind of bank in which one had a deposit of water that could be withdrawn at will and at any time. This point had been emerging as one of the most important focuses of conflict between the executive branch of the central government and the Compañía Agrícola Colonizadora é Industrial del Tlahualilo. Indeed, that conflict may have been the practical background for the interest in bringing forth this law of 1902. With this law, federal jurisdiction was extended to all outlying elements of any stream of "federal" jurisdiction, as Ignacio Vallarta had recommended a decade before. And an additional scope of authority was reserved for the federal government, in that the law gave it power along the riverbanks as well as in the streams. Further, a new provision stated that canals and other such works, when built or acquired by the central government, would remain beyond the reach of private property. This part of the law may well have been occasioned by the government's recent activity in constructing many dams and other engineering works for the provision of potable water to Mexico City. Although it is beyond my competence to enter into constitutional history as such, even an outsider may observe how confusing the government had allowed its legal basis of operation to become. Time had passed, and the government was sponsoring successive laws that further blurred the connection between its day-to-day administrative actions and the constitutional bases upon which those actions had to rest. As for the 1902 law, the congress managed, literally, to destroy the only possible constitutional foundation for federal jurisdiction in stream courses by defining the key constitutional term "general avenues of communication" to include roads only — no streams, no paths, no railroad rights of way. For the next few years, it is true, the federal authorities did continue to claim a power to administer certain rivers. But had they been asked, they would have been unable to find any legislative sanction for their actions in terms found in the Mexican constitution. In this respect, what we can say about the 1902 law is that it seems to have been written in expectation of new definitions, especially for the term "general avenues of communication." As it turned out, some years would pass before the congress returned to this crucial matter.

Bringing Law to Policy

173

Meantime, in most other respects the congress was making its laws conform to the ordinary limit of federal power vis-à-vis the states of Mexico. That is, the central government carried out administrative tasks only within the Federal District and in the Territories. During those early years of the twentieth century, this federal-state division of powers was observed, for instance, in public health legislation, despite a strong temptation to combat the terrible epidemics that passed across the human map of Mexico. The same was true, moreover, with regard to provision of potable water to towns and cities, the increasing interest in reforestation, and the related concern for water resource restoration, which might be accomplished, it was thought, by recreating forests. In none of these respects was the central government ready to make the constitutional changes that would place these matters in the hands of federal authorities. Thus, in 1905, the president signed a law authorizing him to issue a statute specifying reforestation and conservation of stands of trees. The same law dealt with river basins and streams that supplied water to private businesses and homes in the Federal District and in the Territories, and he was authorized to include provisions for condemning whatever lands might be needed for these purposes. 10 Shortly afterward it was shown that twentyfour of the twenty-seven states had followed the federal government's lead in enacting stronger forestry laws, with similar powers to condemn private property wherever needed. 11 At the same time the central government was proceeding as quickly as possible to complete the studies and decision making necessary to produce a workable reglamento for all users of the waters of the Río Magdalena in the Federal District. In other words, the central government was now blazing the way for some very interesting new activities relating to natural resources. Nevertheless, there was no sign that the federal executive wished to override the federal-state division of powers save in one respect—the one that touched on use of water in projects that might directly increase agricultural production and the supply of power. About that same time the central government legislated one more, and highly traditional, variety of incentive for water resource development. This was embodied in a Law of May 16, 1906, which encouraged exploration by private parties for undiscovered sources of water. The technique of encouragement brought into play here was a mild version of incentives formerly used in giving aid to railroad construction and to land survey. Moreover, the objectives in view were those being sought by the Diaz regime in its final years in many other programs as well: to put more water to use in agriculture, in power generation, and in industrial operations. Finally, in 1907, the national congress faced the task of restating the phrases in Article 72 of the constitution which were supposed to have covered federal exercise of authority in managing rivers and other streams.

174

Bringing Law to Policy

Before the end of the year, in various committees and with repeated consultation among all the legislators, a new wording had been worked out. What emerged was a brief addition to the constitutional sentence that mentioned "general avenues of communication," giving the federal government authority "to define and determine which are waters of federal jurisdiction and to issue laws concerning the use of the same." 13 Of course, this basic improvement in constitutional underpinning was supposed to end the crisis of legitimacy and authority which had been building for years. But the new wording did not do as much as expected to meet the active situation that had developed by 1908. It will be remembered that by that time the federal authorities were moving much more ambitiously and aggressively than ever before. Both in the field and in decisions made at headquarters in the Ministry of Development, the federal power was being strongly exerted in new policies for river management. As it must have seemed at the time, the new posture of federal authorities was bound to encounter serious difficulties. Trouble would come from established property owners with old water rights as well as from those who only now were making application for concessions. Established owners could, and did, resist by any legal means such a novel precedent as that which asserted the government's power to allocate amounts of water each year. These owners did not agree that a long-standing water right now meant not what it said, but what the government chose to have it say each year. Such was the case on the Rio Aguanaval, where the two original grants of "half' the river water were read by the federal government to signify only half of the water still in the river when reaching the two properties. Disputes also arose wherever the government was inclined to confirm an old right at an amount no larger than could conceivably be put to use on the property in question. All these sorts of cases found the government without any specific authorization to do what it was, most emphatically, doing day by day. The only legal authority so far was still the provision of the Law of June 5, 1888 permitting the federal government to regulate the use of waters of "federal" streams. But which measures might constitute reasonable use of that power was a question not yet answered in any existing law. Applicants for new water-use concessions, thus, might expect the government to protect the interests they hoped to create, but in so doing the government was apt to find itself acting without legal sanction. This created a problem when holders of antique rights came forward to obtain confirmation of their scopes of water use, only to find the government unwilling to satisfy their requests because by now it had become only too clear that the river in question did not contain enough water to share out in the amounts

Bringing Law to Policy

175

desired —and legitimately claimed—by all users. For their part, new applicants often expected the government to stand the traditional mosaic of rights on its head, abandoning traditional usage whereby older rights in some river basins had gradually merged in the owners' minds with their habits, such as retaining water or suddenly releasing it without warning. In that kind of local system, however, new users were expected to appear only downstream from the established properties, and then to take whatever water might come their way. But when the new property was far upstream, and yet junior in age to all other users, how was the river to be managed? No law could say, and tradition could only repeat over and over that newer rights were inferior to older ones. So by 1907-1909 the federal authorities were deep in difficulties that might best be dealt with by a detailed and sweeping new waters law. Such a new statement could serve the burning desire for economic development by giving the federal government broad powers. Or, if written in another way, it might attract large investments into agriculture by offering wide scope for private initiative protected from government intervention. To put this differently, a water policy for the future would need to embrace a very disparate series of interests, most of which were actively in expansion and more and more clearly competitive with one another for use of the same resources. Municipalities, state governments, and the federal government were all using more water on their own account. Factory industrialists, agricultural settlement companies, irrigation concerns, farmers of every scale of operations, investors in power generation plants, railroad managers, and water salesmen all pressed in to receive their fair share. What was needed, thus, was a new waters law that would allow for expansion of all these interests and also accomplish the almost impossible task of persuading established interests to accept new criteria of efficient performance in their use of water. The new law would have to encourage all that the government's own experts held dear by way of innovative management and recently introduced exercises of power. But the law would have to state these criteria of efficiency and these powers for public action in the same, age-old phrases regarding property and power—those that had been known to Roman and Spanish legists hundreds of years before. Only so could established interests be forced to embark on the newer and more daring activities that could be expected at any time after such a law was proclaimed. It is not clear how soon the Diaz regime took the decision to work up such a law. In the 1908-1909 report Olegario Molina, the minister of development, acknowledged that "new laws relating to federal waters" were already in process of study. How broad a scope he wanted given to the prospective law is not known. But he did have in mind one main difficulty,

176

Bringing Law to Policy

and two needs, that had to be dealt with. The essential problem, he felt, was still to separate clearly enough the respective jurisdictions of federal and state authority. The two needs were to irrigate the land, so as to increase agricultural wealth, and to meet the scarcity of energy from which industrial operations were still suffering. In brief, Molina's viewpoint may be summarized as an assertion that the "problem" of agriculture could only be solved through irrigation and that the "problem" of industry could only be met by provision of enough energy. Instead of advancing directly into writing a new law, however, the federal authorities went one step further along the road already followed: they kept on doing studies in the field, as best they could with a small budget, while attempting to attract massive private investments into agriculture. In 1908 a new incentive was put into use for this purpose. The hope was to enliven the whole activity of agricultural and industrial credit and thereby to stimulate many new projects in irrigation and industry. The program was to be embodied in rediscount banks, new institutions of credit, of which the first was the Caja de Préstamos para Obras de Irrigación y Fomento de la Agricultura, S.A. The new entity would receive strong government backing. It was authorized to engage in many different financial operations, all intended to encourage investment in basic private enterprises aimed at increasing production of food, fiber, metals, and other minerals. Some funds were borrowed locally to give the Caja its beginnings, while a bond issue of fifty million pesos was floated through a New York firm. The Caja would loan directly to private parties. It would take over from existing banks many old loans that had been tying up their funds without profit and thus hampering their ability to make new loans. The Caja would also aid other institutions in issuing bonds, rediscounting paper, and encouraging existing banks to loan more broadly for the purposes in view in agriculture, energy creation, and mining, these being considered so urgent and important. In general terms the Caja was "empowered to loan on real estate; to buy and sell bonds; to issue drafts." 14 The federal government was guarantor for redemption of the Caja's own bonds that were sold abroad and had veto power in choices for its board of directors. Beyond that, the government bureaucracy stayed at arm's length, allowing the Caja to operate in its own way through its appointed board of administrators. So this institution was being launched as a semiautonomous entity. The hope was that it would begin to fill the immense gap that existed where one might expect to find Mexico's rural credit facilities at work. Some loans had been made by banks to rich individuals and corporations, but many of those were already in default. Moreover, as we have seen, President Diaz's attempt to form a rural credit plan for small

Bringing Law to Policy

177

farmers had gone aglimmering. This Caja de Prestamos, then, was the only new hope, and it was intended to serve both large-scale and modest farming operations. Such hopes soon faded. For whatever reasons of personal friendship or association, the Caja's managers made no known attempt to diversify its investments among large and small borrowers, but began by granting big sums to larger enterprises—and without any care for the likelihood of repayment. Until the records of the Caja's operations can be studied, one cannot know why the institution so narrowly limited its loans to the small group of corporations and individuals who came asking for such large amounts of money. The obvious thought is that the Caja was entrusted to that sector of leadership in the Diaz regime which expected progress and production to come only from operations of rich entrepreneurs and corporations rather than from middle-scale or small farmers. This feeling would have been reinforced, too, by the regime's obvious desire to get started quickly with the new program and thus to commit the funds where they would do the most good and bring speediest results. Given that the Caja's available funds kept on accruing slowly and continuously until the end of the Diaz presidency, while the big loans went quietly to fewer than four dozen borrowers, the Caja's skewed policy in loaning did not become widely known until just before the end of the Diaz regime. Moreover, the effect of the work during the years 1909, 1910, and 1911 was unlikely to become a depressing factor within a regime whose affairs were going from bad to worse in so many more obvious ways. Certainly there was disappointment, as seen for instance in a pointed letter sent by Treasury Secretary Limantour to the board of administrators of the Caja asking what might be done for loans to small farmers. The answer, like all else relating to the Caja at the time, was an indistinct mumble. 15 As time passed and his energies were taken up with much more important matters, Limantour himself had little or no leisure for oversight of this institution, which was not strictly within his power to regulate in any case. Although there had been warnings from the first that the Caja was unlikely to function as desired—given the condition in which the banking industry found itself, and considering the government's current policies for regulation of banks 16 —it would remain for the Revolutionary regimes after 1915 to recognize how deeply the Caja did fail, immobilizing its own funds in unproductive investments and ending by causing the government considerable expense. Years would pass after 1915 before the new leaders of Mexico could bring themselves to take the whole matter in hand and terminate what had become a real disaster. 17 Meantime the minister of development did bring forth the basic legislative projects with which to form a national hydraulic policy. This he did in

178

Bringing Law to Policy

two propositions for laws, one reaching the congress in December 1909 and the other in April 1910. As President Diaz later explained, these new laws were needed to legitimize all those policies that related to the use of water for irrigation, energy creation, and agricultural colonization as well as to make clear once and for all which the streams of federal jurisdiction were in which all these policies would apply. During many months of consideration and debate in the congress, the deputies and senators made some important modifications in the thrust of the laws they finally enacted in December 1910 and January 1911. First, they combined the two projects into a single law dealing with all uses and procedures relating to "federal" waters. Another change made by the congress went against Minister Olegario Molina's express judgment and is worth mentioning because it involved a major point of future policy: it eliminated a provision that would have obliged anyone constructing a dam to use it in irrigation or in agricultural colonization. Molina considered that limitation necessary to prevent large new engineering works from becoming instant pawns in speculation, especially since it seemed likely that almost all new dams might soon fall into the hands of rich foreign investors. Molina seems to have felt that foreigners might not try hard enough to use the dams to increase agricultural production. This variance of view between congressmen and minister also underlines the fact that both President Diaz and his minister of development were still hoping against hope that agricultural colonization would be one of Mexico's routes of escape into a future of ample agricultural production. Although the government was in process of abandoning its work in government-sponsored colonization projects, it still wanted to encourage colonization as managed by private parties. Likewise, it still saw as promising to approve irrigation projects as a way of encouraging agricultural colonies. But the congress preferred to separate a new waters law from any colonization policies, which the legislators felt could best be advanced by special legislation dealing with that matter alone. So the congress shaped this new Ley de Aguas de Jurisdicción Federal to deal with recovery of underground waters and with uses of water in agriculture, energy generation, domestic and municipal services, and both processing and industrial operations using agricultural products. In the final article of the reglamento to accompany and define the basic law, it authorized a National Hydraulic Service to be organized within the Ministry of Development. This new agency would include engineering inspection services and protection of rivers wherever "federal" waters existed in Mexico. This signified the acceptance of Manuel Vera's nationwide plan for modern river administration. The new legislation met many long-standing needs for clarity in admin-

Bringing Law to Policy

179

istration and for assurance of federal legal authority which had been so troublesome for so many decades. For instance, the law based federal control of rivers on the old legal categories: "of public domain" and "of general use." It separated jurisdiction in stream management by drainagebasin units—following, in this sense, both legal interpretations and the most promising administrative considerations. Thus no confusion would arise locally between powers of the federation and those of the states. And detailed and complete provisions were made to govern the processes of applying for, and holding, concessions for water use. The law also included the list of priorities that had to be observed in allotting waters in federal control. This order of preference had been Mexican custom for a long time, but it had not been as complete as it could now be, including such relatively new uses as those for power generation. The preferred order was: domestic use in settlements; public services in settlements; irrigation; power generation; other industrial uses; and fertilization of lands. Federal jurisdiction was also expanded in this legislation. For instance, it specified that any river that crossed a state boundary would be controlled by the central government. As for the criteria for granting irrigation concessions, it was for the federal authorities to grant away the amount of water that would be needed for the land to be served. This was a more modern standard of judgment than had been available before. And the federal government was allowed to grant water to an owner whose lands did not abut the stream, so long as the waters were not all committed to riverbank owners and were not needed in their existing concessions. Further, several provisions of the law made it illegal for any but Mexican citizens and corporations to acquire federal water concessions, and such concessions would lapse if passed to foreigners or to foreign governments. As for established users of waters that would now be classified as "federal" for the first time, such owners had the privilege of seeking confirmation of their rights. If no amount of water had ever been assigned to them, the government would confirm those rights at the levels of use that had been customary in each case during the previous ten years. There was, however, a practical limitation in these instances: if the water right had been for irrigation, the government would now confirm for the quantity it judged necessary for the land to be served. Thus the government at last escaped the necessity of authorizing all the old, unlimited grants and all the rights that had been gained by prescripción — by unchallenged use—at the volume the owner might simply allege to have been using. Likewise, this law gave the government the right to apportion water as it chose, and in view of such considerations as "best use" in the situation at the time. Another freedom gained by the federal authorities was in regard

180

Bringing Law to Policy

to preference of one property over another. The law simply stated that preference would mean the order in which rights had been acquired, the earlier ones being those preferred. All concessions for power generation and for other industrial purposes were to be limited in time, some to ninety-nine years and others to sixty, with the government free to take charge of facilities when such concessions expired. All the other necessary time limits were also given in this law, or in the reglamento that soon followed, such as how soon titles to water had to be confirmed, how long a span of time was allowed for constructing required engineering works, and how soon a concession might lapse if no work were done or if conditions were not complied w i t h . u When both the law and its very specific reglamento are taken together, the unlikelihood that the smaller fanners in Mexico would have been able to apply for concessions allowing them to use river water is apparent. The procedures established for applicants were written in expectation of long and detailed submissions of information, requiring the services of a skilled engineer and, perhaps, a lawyer's attention to see the whole paper process through to its end. Each application would come under the eye of two federal ministries, with the Ministry of Communications and Public Works giving an opinion to the Ministry of Development in each case. Every application would be made known to the public via three successive publications both in the federal Diario Oficial and in the official gazette of the state concerned. Maps had to be submitted, along with a great deal of information relating to the river basin involved and to the specific technical characteristics of works to be constructed. Local authorities had to testify to the fact that the lands in question did indeed abut on the stream. And so on. All told, though, even if limited to use by people of wealth, this was a bright: new law looking to the encouragement and close oversight of new enterprises heavily enough capitalized to avail themselves of the law's favorable provisions. All steps taken during the application process, and any inspection and further adjustments as might be necessary, were to emanate from the Fifth Section of the Ministry of Development. For such purposes the law called for creation of a National Hydraulic Service as part of the Fifth Section, with whatever number of personnel was both necessary and affordable within the federal budget. 19 In brief, this law was written by capitalists for a new era of capitalism even then appearing in Mexico. The question then arises, if it did settle some of the most troublesome issues of the generation just past, how would it serve Mexico's future? In answer to that question, José Herrera y Lasso, writing just a few years later, and after the tremendous changes brought by the early stages of the Mexican Revolution, had a moderate opinion to offer. 20

Bringing Law to Policy

181

First of all, Herrera felt that the Waters Law of 1910 had served well in its time, being broad enough to permit almost any combination of enterprises to seek the water they needed. Clearly the law was intended for affluent capitalists, but it did not really block any possible cooperative or collective endeavor on the part of combinations of people who were not so rich. And the law was so clearly a bulwark of governmental centralism that it could only act to support any emphatic and constructive policy for irrigation which the central government might wish to undertake. Or, to put this in another way, Herrera noted that federal government policies for irrigation, up to 1911, had stressed but one objective, that of effective utilization of resources by capitalist means. That policy, of course, had not shown noticeable results up to the end of the Diaz regime. By 1919, however, the government, in Herrera's view, had gone over to a prime emphasis on social results. And, he believed, the 1910 law would sustain any efforts to make irrigation serve social objectives. So Herrera saw policies before and after 1911 as representing two opposed views of how to put irrigation facilities into the Mexican countryside. The earlier and predominantly capitalist view had carried policy with it before the Revolution. That policy merely amounted to trying to improve agricultural production by allowing capitalists to build irrigation facilities. The land so watered would then, presumably, show tremendous increases in production. The other view, which, as Herrera understood it, came to predominate after 1911, was that the first thing to do in the countryside was to distribute lands into many more hands, thus creating smaller productive units. These would use irrigation facilities to bring about vast increases in production. Herrera felt that the basic opposition found in these two views was still very lively, an issue not yet resolved. He expected the government to go much further in making policies favoring irrigation agriculture. And he felt that for the time being the Law of 1910 would serve its main purpose, which was at the same time its main justification: namely, to allow and to support any complex combination of individual, collective, or government projects which would, in different geographic regions of Mexico, prove to be the best for satisfying the social regeneration of the nation as well as for advancing its effectiveness in economic production.

7 For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation

Despite the deepening crises in Mexico during the early twentieth century, the government moved ponderously and in perfect parliamentary order to try to find new policies for a situation that showed increasing aspects of desperation. Just before 1900 a banking reform had been undertaken to cope with unfavorable economic trends. Then, after 1900, the business of government exhibited at least three tendencies that might have had a bearing on restoring economic flexibility and growth. First, there was a turn toward economic nationalism, as seen in the acquisition of railroads and in their administration, in the new mining legislation of 1909, and in the attempt to force foreign-owned corporations and foreign individuals to abide by decisions of Mexico's administrators and judges. Second, the government took whatever emergency steps it could not avoid to combat famine in some localities where people could not pay for scarce and expensive food. This action was intended both to bring in more food and to halt speculation in remaining stocks. Repeatedly, beginning late in the nineteenth century, the federal government had been importing food stocks. After 1905 such imported food was sold in stricken zones of the country, its price to the consumer subsidized from the federal budget. And beginning in 1909 the federal authorities steadily bought food staples in the United States for sale in as many as fifty expendios in poor neighborhoods in Mexico City where the prevailing food prices were high. The government's program made food available at a much lower price. The third thing the federal government did, then, was to exert its administrative strength, gradually, in agricultural and irrigation concerns, sometimes straining that power beyond its legal limits. Meanwhile, the executive repeatedly approached the legislature for expanded powers and new authority never wielded before. 182

For the Future of Agriculture and

Irrigation

183

Slowly, during the last years before 1910, these efforts began to show their first, very preliminary achievement. That merely consisted of gradual acceptance around the country of a need for emphatic action by the federal government. The congress did vote a series of basic and enabling laws to permit much stronger action by federal authorities. But before 1910 not a great deal was done to use those new scopes of power to bring about any serious changes in the countryside. Everything went slowly, much as one comes to expect today when surveying the actions of different branches of government and of various arrayed private interests as they take in hand some unwanted if unavoidable new activity or problem. Bills are announced in the legislature; they go into committees of each house of congress; newspapers comment; time passes; the bills are amended; and eventually, perhaps, a law is voted and proclaimed. But the years pass, and even with the new policy now proclaimed on every hand there is no discernible effect, because budget and personnel are being gathered together, and because private parties seem not to be aware of their own importance in establishing momentum. An observer might have wondered, between 1900 and 1910, whether anything at all would really come out of the talk and conferring and sessions. Would anything important ever really change in rural Mexico? Just so have we watched in our time—repelled or fascinated or encouraged—as our own great structures of government, finance, and industry seem endlessly to be girding themselves for eventual confrontation with, for instance, the "energy crisis." In Mexico before 1910 some of the delay, no doubt, was attributable to normal political maneuvering and pace. Part of the seeming lassitude merely reflected the small scope of governmental strength at that time — a fifth section of the development ministry, with but nine regular employees. That office force was supplemented by six engineers who dealt with the paper that entered and left the office, although these same six were charged with all federal oversight of irrigation and river management. The inevitable office work slowed the thrust the ministry might otherwise have developed now that an energetic minister was backing these very interests in water policy. So in these less traditional aspects of government activity, the embryonic state of that part of the bureaucracy no doubt acted as a drag on effective work. Some of the long delays, however, were occasioned, as everywhere, by the suspicion of private parties at the sight of stronger initiative by a government seemingly more powerful than the array of private interests. Still more important, however, in explaining lack of action during such a decade of crisis may be an even more obvious fact: that the few people of indubitable influence in private and public life had already committed their time, and had already subscribed to beliefs and preferences of their

184

For the Future of Agriculture and. Irrigation

own, before any new and only partly understood problem could begin to claim their attention. The new problem, an unpleasant and novel concern, had somehow to work its way into daily schedules, into a daily round of concerns already being tended. In other words, individuals whose actions will be critical to success in meeting the new problem are already doing what they prefer to do, what they believe they must do, and what they have been convinced by themselves and by other people is best for them to be doing. All this does not readily allow space for today's or tomorrow's bad news, which comes in the shape of a new concern to be added to those on hand. Most influential Mexicans spent their time in Mexico City, and there they had been given ample reason to believe that the country was progressing, that things were steadily changing for the better. The amenities they knew to be available to people in leading cities of western Europe and the United States were now at last coming to them. Electricity was coming in. The city had been provided with flood protection, with sewage facilities, and with drinking water, all within recent years. These programs were still being rounded out at heavy expense, with a barrage of accompanying publicity. The government was currently spending large amounts on such proud projects as the Palacio de Bellas Artes, its huge marble pile gradually covering the steel skeleton of a few years before. More money was also being spent on other projects of accommodation and civic pride, such as the refurbishing and equipping of a newer, more beautiful Chapultepec Park. Indeed, much more money was being spent on these adornments in Mexico City than on all the agricultural and irrigation activities around the whole of the national territory. It seems significant that in his last years in office the president created a number of high-level commissions (juntas) to expedite projects and enterprises considered to be of first importance. No doubt the urgency was keen because of his desire to complete projects before the fall of 1910, the date set for the much-awaited Centennial of National Independence, a national outpouring of pride and a fiesta of great importance to the president. Among the juntas were some that supervised and advanced the various projects mentioned above. But no such politically potent councils were named to deal with irrigation, 1 with agriculture, with hydroelectric power, or with the energy problem as a whole. All of these matters were, in a sense, looked upon as urgent and of real importance, but they were left to find their way through the usual channels and to encounter the long delays that always involved. To an important person living in Mexico City, all of this probably seemed as it should be. If such an individual wished to worry about social or economic problems, there were special articles in the newspapers show-

For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation

185

ing the unexpected poverty of conditions of tenement dwellers in Mexico City's huge blocks of rooms and tiny apartments. He could feel serious concern, too, at Mexico's inability to reestablish its position in the world's money markets. He might not think to ask how such difficulties related to the daily wage of a peon on some distant hacienda, or how the shortage of government funds might relate to weakness in agricultural production. So the crisis continued. Some explanation was needed, however, to show what had gone wrong and why certain steps now had to be taken. The government, it is true, could simply have blamed its troubles on those foreign conditions that made it impossible, for the time being, for Mexico to continue moving ahead by borrowing funds the government needed from month to month. But this government and its spreading circles of wealthy associates were not in a mood to find scapegoats on whom to blame problems. The mood was for positive action that could be shown to be wearing down difficulties. Also, this was a regime that had assumed straight along, for a whole generation, that it contained all the necessary talents—or, if need be, that it could at once call upon any competent persons who were not at the moment in close association with the authorities. The Diaz regime did not represent one among several political parties. It was "the government," and in theory it had neither opponents nor competitors nor enemies. Its style was to represent and to advocate expansion, progress, civic peace, and the steady march into civilization and national welfare. Such an establishment seldom finds it convenient to turn upon any of its own sectors of support, to find scapegoats among any of those with whom the leaders associate officially, socially, and, here and there, by family alliance. In Mexico, for the regime to have turned against supporters would at once have raised doubts concerning the most basic link to support and legitimacy it possessed—namely, its proud claim to have restored peace in the commonwealth, to have long since established unity everywhere within the nation. The government could, of course, try to find new solutions at the expense of the poor. It had, in fact, been doing exactly that for many years. For example, it had sponsored a program that took lands from poor families so as to consolidate those lands in the hands of rich persons and corporations who would, it was believed, use them for vast increases in agricultural production. But this policy had fallen upon evil days. It was only too clear that production was not increasing as hoped, at a time when a large increase was badly needed. Before 1910, thus, the president had declared an end to, or at least a suspension of, the policy of transferring lands from the poor to the rich. So for many reasons the Diaz regime followed a course that may today seem to have been too deliberate and far too mild to achieve results in an

186

For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation

emergency. The new policies worked out between about 1900 and 1911 were moderate indeed. They dragged through the usual lengthy critique and modification processes within the official and semiofficial establishments. Moreover, they were so shaped as not to demand serious sacrifices from any official satrapies or from any private interests representing great wealth. As we will see, only at the very end, during the hectic years 1909, 1910, and 1911, did the pace of government policymaking quicken. Then there was a last-minute effort to establish new policies for the use of lands and waters.

NEW POLICIES FOR A

GRICULTURE

Within its final three years the Diaz regime began rapidly to prepare the way for undoing its past policies regarding land and farming. A new approach came in partly by law and partly by administrative actions that did not require new covering legislation. These shifts in direction and action called for prior recognition that mining could no longer be considered Mexico's key industry and that agriculture was now to be the focus of the government's efforts* to right the economy and send it forward once again. First of all the combined and long-standing programs of surveying lands and then appropriating those vacant of private title were suspended in July 1909. The reason given by the government was that a multitude of errors had been made in the surveys, with consequent loss of public confidence in the policy itself. Conflict among property owners, not peace, had been the result so far, and therefore the government was withdrawing the policy. In retrospect the government now admitted that the widespread condemnation of lands found to be vacant of title had created tragedy for Indians and others who had lost the lands they needed for survival.® Henceforward, all these matters would be in the hands of the Ministry of Development, and soon a new Direccion Agraria, an agrarian agency, would be created in the ministry to manage all these aspects of land transfer and ownership. Meantime, the form of law recommended by the executive included a new provision requiring persons who received communal (ejido) lands, as part of any distribution thereof, not to pass that land to any other party. The new owner had to work the land for ten years in order to continue to hold title to it. At the very end of Porfirio Diaz's presidency, and with the Revolution already within sight of victory, the president brought forth a much more radical project calling for subdivision of lands that would go to poor families. This project showed the effects of study and experience over the most

For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation

187

recent few years. For the first time the federal government itself would manage the whole program. For the first time, too, the scope of land redistribution was expected to be nationwide, limited neither by local conditions nor by relative shortage or absence of public lands in given localities. Likewise for the first time the prime criteria would include economic ones, so that the objective of increasing production would be implicit from the start. The government would sell public lands in small pieces, and it would be empowered to buy privately owned land for the purpose wherever no public lands were to be found. 4 The parcels involved had to be such as could have irrigation provided to them, and they had to lie near some communications facilities. Wherever a populated place existed nearby, its residents would be preferred as buyers of the plots. The government was charged with taking all steps to "assure the productivity of the parcels" of land. In that connection a number of provisions were made to ensure the availability of whatever amount of irrigation water would be needed. The minister of development was authorized to use his own judgment in taking all steps to "facilitate the sale and settlement" of the lands. 5 This project was sponsored by the well-known hydraulic engineer Manuel Marroquin y Rivera when he briefly held the portfolio of the Ministry of Development during the final months before President Diaz's resignation from office. So this proposed piece of legislation was in the hands of the congress when the caretaker regime assumed control in May 1911. Like many another unfinished law, it became part of the agenda for the Madero presidency taking office in the fall of the year. Many other beginnings for a new agricultural policy were to be seen during 1910-1911, as the "developmental" wing of the regime struggled to obtain the power and the information it needed to bring about major changes. From the fall of 1909 the Ministry of Development was busy in reorganizing its own internal structure and in recasting the teaching programs of the National School of Agriculture and Veterinary Science. Attempts were made to add vigor and compulsion to the forestry administration, to establish clear lines of authority over many of Mexico's streams, and to begin to study the extent and the quality of soil in a few of Mexico's most productive farming zones. By the spring of 1910 two missions had gone abroad, one to western Europe and the other to the United States, to gather ideas as to how best to organize a modern agricultural department in Mexico's federal government and as to how to embed a modern agricultural college within the central government. Meantime, President Diaz had appointed a special commission to devise a proposal for a vast expansion of agricultural credit to be made available, especially, to smaller farmers.

188

For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation

From discussions of these changes it emerged that there would be two distinct branches of the Ministry of Development's efforts to expand and improve agriculture. On the one hand, the new Dirección General de Agricultura would contain the National School of Agriculture and the Central Experiment Station and would also supervise outlying schools and stations that were already beginning to appear. This agency would also carry out the national efforts in propaganda and publication relating to agriculture. On the other hand, the new Dirección Agraria would attend to everything relating to land grants and land transfers, with enough field personnel to be able, for the first time, to supervise activities closely. As for the National School of Agriculture, it had now been reorganized so as to emphasize training of agronomists, agronomical engineers, and topographical-hydraulic engineers, with increased numbers of scholarships and with hopes of persuading the states to send still other students with state-scholarship support. 6 The school itself moved outside Mexico City, partly in order to find enough space and sufficient land and water to accommodate the various kinds of farming to be done. Moreover, a rural location provided the opportunity for hydraulic instruction in a realistic setting. 7 There were 233 students on hand for the beginning of classes in early 1908. At the same time the ministry established an experimental station at Rio Verde, San Luis Potosí, as the first publicly sponsored station since those of Ciudad Juárez and the newer ones in Tabasco and Oaxaca states.' These were early steps that were supposed to lead to two major administrative changes: the organization and implementation of services in a ministry of agriculture, 9 and a parallel national structure for hydraulic efforts, to remain within the Ministry of Development. The ambitious scale of these plans being laid during the years from 1907 to 1911 may be seen, for instance, in the fact that both the Ministry of Development and the Ministry of Public Instruction were considering a future in which technical instruction would be obligatory for all elementary school pupils. The idea was to send some of those students on, either into a middle grade of training to produce skilled artisans and lower-level technicians or into one of the higher-level certification programs. The planners had accepted the fact that existing scientific and technical education in Mexico did not produce competent workers for field or factory. Graduates mainly went into government service or administrative positions in industry or agriculture. Now the broad objectives were to train people at three levels of work: many for practical manual tasks, some for supervisory and secondary leadership posts in factories or on farms, and a few for the most advanced work in the specialties of engineering, architecture, the sciences, and financial operations. 10

For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation

189

During the time these expansions and changes were being considered and decreed, two experienced engineer-agronomists, Lauro Viadas and Basilio Romo, had recently returned from a European trip they had made to examine agricultural education and administration. Their preliminary report in late 190911 already foretold further shifts in emphasis, and the addition of new programs, which would come to light during the next year and a half. Among the modifications would be new alterations in the engineering curricula. Moreover, changes would also reflect the importance Viadas and Romo felt should be placed on assuring that students entering the National School of Agriculture be found among those applicants most likely to go into farming as a career. Of course, some few—Viadas estimated 20 percent at most—could be accepted as bright students intent on finding their way into engineering practice or into higher administration, or even into a life of scientific research. But the predominant feeling was that Mexico's agricultural teaching had now to be primarily practical. It should not be wasted as in the past on students who could not or would not use such training as a gateway to practical work on the farm. 11 Thus Viadas recommended reserving almost all fellowships for farm boys, and he felt that it lay within the government's power to prohibit landowners from employing graduates of the school for farm administration." The broad objective would be to instruct students along traditional lines in the sense of thoroughgoing classroom and laboratory study for most of the time they spent in the school. But this teaching had to be done so as to produce capable modern farmers who would go back to the land and bring about efficient production there. Otherwise, Viadas felt certain both from his knowledge of the school's past record and also from what he had recently seen in various parts of Europe, the whole effort would be wasted by producing students without the practical grasp to make themselves useful in Mexico's countryside. So the new agricultural education system, with its central plant outside Mexico City, and with several teaching, demonstration, and research establishments elsewhere, would try to bring forth two kinds of graduates. On the one hand would be the few who would later do research or go into administration, and on the other would be the many who would return to large or small farms to modernize those operations and thus increase national farm production. As for the nonagricultural engineers needed for any national program of agricultural expansion, much less had been done until just before 1910 to alter the curriculum of the Escuela Nacional de Ingenieros so as to be able to certificate hydraulic engineers. In the 1902 reform of the curriculum the emphasis had still been on mining and civil engineering courses. A student specializing in topography and hydrography went into a thinner and

190

For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation

briefer curriculum, with no subspecializations available. 14 But by 1908 the school had added professors of hydraulics and hydraulics applications as well as of civil engineering for streams, lakes, and seashores. Facilities for industrial and analytical chemistry had expanded too, and some practical topography was added. Already in 1907 classes had commenced in electricity and its applications, with a professor who had studied at Paris, the intention being to graduate electrical engineers; there proved to be little interest among the students, however, before the coming of the Revolution. 1S There was a slight increase in the number of students selecting the career of topography-hydrography during the earliest years of the Revolution. This modest expansion may have been attributable to bright new courses and to student projects that were very obviously of current practical significance and interest. Ing. Manuel Marroquín y Rivera had, for the first time, brought in studies in cement construction, and at least one student used this opportunity to carry through a degree project consisting of a study of the works then being done for wider distribution of potable water in Mexico City. One of the field projects of which a record survives must have been exciting work for the students. The professor of topography and hydrography, Ing. Aureliano Leyva, took two aides and forty-five students into a high canyon where a tributary of the Rio Tetepantla ran, above Otumba Valley and only a few kilometers from Mexico City. The class managed to make the measurements and observations necessary to produce the plan for a storage dam that would have various local uses and that would cost only thirty thousand pesos to build. Water would be used to supply the town of Otumba, then without drinking water, and to irrigate land so that farmers in the zone could grow other than the single crop, maguey, which was their only resort. 16 As for forest conservation and protection, the new Dirección General de Agricultura took charge of this neglected concern, which had been overseen by a junta with little power and few people. In Mexico's federal system it might have been expected that efforts in the dirección's new Departamento de Bosques (Department of Forests) would have touched only the federal zones, the Federal District, and the Territories. But the Law of Agricultural Services of 1909 had authorized the new Department of Forests to collect data and to make various kinds of plans and studies on a national scale. By teaming with the Comisión Geográfico-Exploradora, the new department was already discovering information it should have about zones where deforestation was especially far advanced. Meanwhile, this Department of Forests took over all efforts in the Federal District from the district's own office of public works. Rangers went to work in the district, and the department began training a dozen forest guards through a two-

For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation

191

year course in the Practical Forestry School. That school was soon to be inspected and reformed by a French professional who came to Mexico for this purpose." Some encouragement and momentum may have resulted from a 1909 visit by Mr. Gifford Pinchot, who had come from the United States to persuade Mexico to dispatch a delegate to an impending international forestry congress to be held at Washington, D.C. He left behind strong statements emphasizing the urgency and importance of deeper awareness on the part of Mexicans of good forestry practices. 18 And a new law submitted to the congress in 1909 sought to make forest conservation an activity of public utility. This opened the way for active federal policies in the Federal District and in the Territories directed toward acquiring watershed and other essential properties. 19 By the fall of 1910 the Department of Forests was sending circulars to governors and municipal officials warning against any cutting of wood on the margins of federally supervised streams. Local officials were to notify federal authorities of any destructive acts, and they were encouraged to take the initiative in preventing such crimes. Of course, years would pass before Mexico's governments could spare further energies for these concerns. Now, however, at least some of the basic legislation was in place, and forestry had become a visible part of an active national agency of the central government. Meanwhile, the Ministry of Development had decided that it could make intelligent policies for the immediate crisis, and for long-range development as well, only if it had in hand a thoroughgoing census of all the main facts of Mexican agriculture. How much money was being invested? How many animals were at work, along with how much machinery and how many people? What areas of land were under cultivation, and what were their characteristics for farming purposes? Also, which of these lands had irrigation facilities in service? Late in 1910 the Dirección General de Agricultura embarked on the mountainous task of persuading Mexican authorities around the country to collaborate in such a national agricultural census. In accord with the deep belief of agrarian bureaucrats of that day to the effect that propaganda and publicity were of first importance in any policy effort, the census information and its rationale were printed and distributed broadcast. 10 In the process of announcing the census, the dirección made it clear how strongly its people believed in some new elements of the analysis of national economic development then being brought into government policies. It discussed irrigation in detail as a major basis for favorable change. It explained that Mexico had to greatly increase its production of food staples so that its agricultural productive capacity would no longer be attacked by

192

For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation

the periodic ruinous price competition from inexpensive cereals coming in from abroad. It was likewise explained how great landholdings would be subdivided into smaller farms as the production of food staples rose and thus depressed Mexican prices of corn, wheat, and other basic foods. Whether the census did advance during the last troubled months of the Diaz regime, I do not know. But to have committed the government to such a step was in itself an important achievement that would, along with the basic idea for a ministry of agriculture, become an essential part of the government's work after the end of the Revolutionary wars. As for the internal organization of the Ministry of Development affecting agrarian matters, a new decision in early 1910 took Mexico one step closer to creating the agriculture ministry. This decision was that the coming ministry organization should be shaped as nearly as might prove wise along lines to be seen in the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Government permission for two officials to visit the United States for that purpose was requested, and it was forthcoming in May 1910.81 Meanwhile, other missions were no doubt being sent to foreign parts for even more specific purposes. One went to both the United States and western Europe to find the latest information relating to agricultural implements and to methods of cultivation. 88 The government's last-minute land policies may have had more effect than the few distant reverberations to be seen in scattered records. One highly significant result was to turn the federal authorities themselves to examining for the first time the specific values and extents of arable lands in some zones of special importance for annual agricultural production. Thus, fdr example, the Comision Geografico-Exploradora went out into the Laguna District to do a census of the arable lands there, both those in cultivation and those not yet so." The commission also sent people into the Papantla district of Veracruz State to quiet unruly and potentially revolutionary people by surveying and then distributing land to them. 84 In the state of Chihuahua two new distributions of land of very different kinds were being carried out. Both stemmed from the fact that federal authorities were now much more inclined to take action in awarding land to needy people — now that the president's decrees and new laws pointed the way. In one case the governor of Chihuahua reported that he had arranged with federal authorities for a grant of about 300,000 hectares for the Tarahumara Indians. He claimed, however, that without secure title these people were sure to have their homes taken from them in the steady encroachment by settlers from other parts of the state and other sections of Mexico.85 In the other case of a grant to needy people, also in the state of Chihuahua, the state had bought enough land from several owners to be able to distribute little parcels at moderate prices to residents of a small place, Villa Ahumada, which had no ejido lands of its own. 86

For the Future of Agriculture and Irrigation

193

Some of the reforms hoped for at the time did not even appear in such early forms as proposals for laws or as announcements by government officials. So it was with the matter of credit facilities for small farmers, a most difficult problem recognized by all authorities as one of the tightest "bottleneck" situations confronting small farmers. A high-level study committee was appointed by the president to produce some workable plan. But after long discussion and the most vigorous disagreement, the members were unable to arrive at any common finding.27 Thus the considerable enthusiasm and interest, and the many proposals for collaborative government and private efforts, all went for nothing as the revolt by Francisco Madero began to make itself felt toward the end of 1910. No doubt still other bold projects "remained in the inkwell," as Minister of the Treasury Limantour expressed it when mentioning some of the roles assumed by his ministry in the government's agricultural policies on the very eve of Revolution. And in any case, all the legislation, all the discussion, and all the propaganda during the final years of the Diaz regime had no bearing whatever upon the agricultural crisis at that time or upon agricultural production during those years. Nonetheless, the legal and administrative steps taken then did, for better or for worse, do something toward establishing future practice as well as placing agricultural modernization in a prominent position in the thinking of many influential Mexicans. Agriculture now was treated as if it were more urgent, and more critical, than mining in any national campaign to increase Mexico's wealth. No doubt it would have been wiser to have raised agriculture to this high level of priority in the government's programs without, at the same time, so clearly declaring a loss of hope in mining as a sector of the future economy. Perhaps we can partly explain this shift in priorities, favoring agriculture over mining, by the fact that mining was doing very well while, in the general belief, agriculture was staggering. Another subtler aspect of the picture was that mining had been more and more dominated by foreign enterprisers, arousing hostility and fear in Minister Limantour and others of the president's inner circle. Also in the picture was that many of the people closest to the president in his final years knew more, invested heavily in, and cared a great deal about commercial agriculture. For an emergency in the national life they prescribed measures for a vast increase in agricultural production. The projects they had in mind were too clearly of the kind whose effects could only be felt in the long range and which were such as could in no way ameliorate the current crisis. During and after the Revolution some of those same measures did find their fuller effects, and did prove to have been well advised in that sense. But quite as durable was the impression that agriculture had to be held at the top of the list of economic priorities,

194

For the Future of Agriculture and. Irrigation

high above mining, from which little if anything was expected at the very time it was finding its greatest gains. This intended emphasis on one sector of economic activity, and the probably unintended depreciation of another sector, proved to be one of the deeper heritages of the regime of Porfirio Diaz in Mexicans' later understandings of their own national life.

8

Crisis in La Laguna

After the application of the reglamento of 1895, the conflicts regarding Rio Nazas water gradually moved beyond the power of any administrative policy to encompass, or of any such technical agency as the Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas to control. From the late 1890s until the last weeks of the Diaz regime, it gradually became clearer that the central government faced a deadly challenge from the Tlahualilo Company, a mortal threat to the new policies of economic nationalism. By 1909, with the Diaz presidency in its final stage, the situation had deteriorated still further in every important sense. The central government had little support in the state government of Durango and had lost control of political activities in Coahuila, 1 the state where a number of the most potent lower-river owners of Rio Nazas water rights resided. Moreover, federal management of the river had not resulted in furnishing the increasing amounts of water now being demanded by burgeoning agricultural and industrial developments in the district. Finally, the goveriiment's control of water distribution was being opposed by the Tlahualilo Company, supported by both Great Britain and the United States. This regional crisis proved to be more than the aged leaders of Mexico's central government could deal with. Their attention and efforts were fully engaged, increasingly from 1905, by bad crop years, fiscal emergencies, foreign policy and foreign trade problems, and political and labor unrest. And there were serious differences of opinion among the president's advisers as to the general directions policy should take for their own and the nation's best future. Another way of describing these problems among the policymakers is to say that a new minister of development, Olegario Molina, managed to carry President Diaz with him in forceful policies that 195

196

Crisis in La Laguna

left little room for compromise with private owners in the Laguna District. And by carrying through such nationalistic policies, the Mexican government headed into a series of confrontations. Perhaps the president could have succeeded in the first of these conflicts, with the Tlahualilo Company. But after Great Britain and the United States added their efforts in support of the company, that conflict proved irresolvable. In this, as in other unresolved problems with the U.S. government, evidence may be seen that the Diaz presidency went to its finish in the face of a U.S. attitude that was indifferent to many of Mexico's problems and hostile to some of its most important foreign and domestic policies. This panorama of growing problems also reflects the simple fact that, after about 1890, the population and economic activities of the Laguna District were steadily growing larger and more complex, important now to the national economy as well as to regional economic development in the states of Durango and Coahuila. The towns were fast becoming cities. Industrial and agricultural activities were thriving. Indeed, the Comarca Lagunera now provided most of Mexico's cotton, some of its wheat, and increasing numbers of processing industries and banks. 8 Furthermore, there was a significant degree of overlapping ownership in agricultural property and business and industrial enterprises. New investments in the district, moreover, now represented some of the most important economic interests based in Chihuahua State and in the industrial city of Monterrey in Nuevo Leon. Naturally, these increasingly important combinations of wealth were reflected in political power. The owners were well able to bring to bear the best legal and technical talent in attempting to sway the national government in their favor. And all of the major interests had both direct and indirect lines of influence leading to the president and to members of his cabinet. 5 By the middle 1890s it was no longer the case, as it had seemed to be only recently, that the cotton estates could be expected to use more or less the same amounts of land they had brought into cultivation since the 1870s. Among the "upper-river" owners in the state of Durango, the Tlahualilo Company had emerged in a modernizing style, strongly capitalized, producing on an efficient basis, and steadily bringing more of its reserve lands into use. As for the "lower-river" owners, they were also putting more land under crops, and theirs were believed to be the more fertile lands in the district. They too could put the necessary money to work. So the pressure was intense for more water to use in cotton production, which was badly needed from the national viewpoint—and very profitable to producers. All this meant that the question of who was to have how much water had not been answered after all with the application of the reglamento of 1895.

Crisis in La Laguna

197

The Río Nazas conflicts and rivalries were merely sharpening once again. Gradually the issue of water distribution policy would go from controversy to conflict to crisis, as the many years of less than normal river flow after the middle 1890s further sharpened feelings of envy and fear on the part of many landowners. Greater political strength was gradually brought to bear, with three discernible groupings: the upper-river owners, the Tlahualilo Company (which played a lone hand), and the lower-river owners (operating more or less together). No major crisis occurred during the late 1890s or the first years of the new century. But the bases for final confrontation were steadily being laid during those years. Hostile encounters were still on a small scale, and government policy shifted back and forth somewhat, now helping one interest and now accommodating another. What probably mattered most during those years, however, was a gradual growth of awareness on the parts of all those involved of the extremely narrow range of alternatives that faced all these parties who were increasingly eager to achieve their widely varying objectives. As for the central government, beginning in 1896 it gained a much closer and more accurate view once the Comisión Inspectora del Rio Nazas lodged itself in the Comarca Lagunera and began accumulating information and validating past impressions. The more these engineers learned about the river and its use, the more intensely they felt that things were badly arranged. Something serious had to be done or there would be no gain in the sense of better use of the water for increased cotton production. The picture was indeed darker than the government had believed during the early 1890s. Much less water came after 1895 than Ramón de Ibarrola had predicted after his careful reconnaissance in 1890-1891.4 As early as 1897 there was thought of revising the reglamento, although that idea was set aside in favor of continuing with temporary orders to adjust the situation for brief periods of time. The river was running at about two-thirds of the volume assumed to be the average when the very conservative Ibarrola made his prediction. Furthermore, when seen at close range throughout the year, the functioning of the private irrigation facilities appeared to be highly ineffective. Each property had its own canal or canals, each carrying relatively little water, so that evaporation and soaking through the bottoms of canals took a relatively large proportion of the volume—all the more so because none of these canals was lined with concrete. The gates were flimsy and sometimes easily destroyed. Moreover, the canal floors were at riverbed level, so that during strong flows there was no practical way of shutting the water out. Damage to works, and to crops, was thus a regular occurrence. No one knew precisely the combined factor of all water losses in the canals, but

198

Crisis in La Laguna

the assumed percentages were 10 percent for the large ones and 20 percent for the small. The yearly round of irrigation also involved heavy losses, perhaps half of all water put to use, because the period of strong river flow did not coincide with that of the planting season. A deep watering, perhaps as much as a meter of water on the land, was typically given in summer, more than six months before it would be useful for the new crop. Later irrigations would occur if another strong river flow came, or if enough rain arrived at just the right time. All this heavy watering out of season—followed by a mere hope for the later irrigation that could mean a 20 percent to 30 percent difference in the crop—came about because there were no storage dams in the district. The "dams" that did exist in the river were there mainly to lift water high enough so that canals could be run back to a spot sufficiently elevated to decant the water into the croplands. So the water could not be stored, and canals run over such long distances must certainly have increased all factors of water loss. There was one more thing wrong with the irrigation system. Because no one could predict how strongly the river might flow—more than ten times as much in some years as in others—the owners built canals as large as possible to catch as much water as might arrive during the days or weeks of highest river flow. The commission's engineers soon noticed that this meant there was no relation whatsoever between the sizes of dams and canals, on one hand, and the amount of cultivated land served by those facilities, on the other. This realization brought the government's engineers to a fuller awareness of just how far short the official policies had fallen in reaching either of the two main objectives in view for management of the Rio Nazas. One of these had been increased production, while the other, and older, intention had been to quiet conflict among the riverbank owners by devising some means of assuring each owner his proper proportion in a total pattern of water distribution acceptable to all. As regards the latter objective, in retrospect the need for this kind of pacification had been clear for many years. 5 During the 1870s the government had not given the matter the necessary attention or efforts. In 1881, therefore, the state of Durango had enacted a waters law to deal with its own part of the problem. By 1885, however, the Ministry of Development, the Ministry of Communications and Public Works, and the national congress were already working out a legal basis for federal control of the situation. 6 From then on the government had taken one step after another toward the objective of assuring legal titles and, thereby, making peace among the riverbank owners. After the Waters Law of June 1888 went into effect, almost all the owners received confirmation of their titles; and in the reglamentos of 1891 and 1895

o o CTI

«

>o

Já I« e n U a o ? T3 C «

«

2

o

oo O. «

200

Crisis in La Laguna

each title was reflected in a proportional part of the river's flow. And the older titles received preference; they were larger properties lying farther upstream. It was easy enough, and legally proper, to let the old upstream properties take water first, and more of it. The newest water right of size was also in the upstream zones; and it was fitted into the system with the provision that it would receive only the extra flow not needed by others with prior water rights. So much for the whole question of assuring each owner's privilege and making peace in the district. But even at that time the federal government had made a major error. In 1891 the assumption had been that the river would deliver a certain minimum flow, and accordingly the Tlahualilo Company was awarded everything over and above that estimated minimum, the company's right having been stated at 200 million cubic meters in the reglamento of 1891. That series of estimates and decisions had turned out to be too liberal by far. The river was not running as strongly as estimated, and the company's allotment after 1891 amounted to a large proportion of all the water coming downstream. So in 1895 the government drastically reduced the company's share. The effect of these policy decisions was to arouse serious objections and fears, first among the "lower-river" owners after 1891 and then among the "upper-river" owners, including the Tlahualilo Company, beginning in 1895. The government, thus, did not gain credibility with these decisions. Meantime, the other objective being sought by the federal government was increase in agricultural production, or, more broadly, economic development of the Laguna District. That result would be sought by making sure that all owners had some water available to them. In the 1895 reglamento this objective was the fundamental basis for giving more water to the "lower-river" owners who held lands believed to be more fertile. These owners also had a greater supply of lands to be put into crops for the first time whenever water became available. With the reglamento of 1895 in force, however, the engineers could see that neither of the government's objectives had been secured. As for the legal aspects, it was not altogether certain that the central government had solid bases for its active policies—for instance, in converting a confirmed water right into a variable annual allotment of water. Those who wished to resist federal control by resorting to arguments based in the law could take either of two positions. One pointed to the fact that, if federal river management rested on the Waters Law of 1888, that law had no real constitutional basis in itself. The government's supporters assumed that the basis for the law rested on a constitutional provision concerning rivers that served as means of communication. But the Rio Nazas had never had any such use; so, constitutionally speaking, the Waters Law of 1888 furnished

Crisis in La

Laguna

201

no proper authority. The other legal tack taken by opponents was to stand on their confirmed water rights, which indicated they could take water through a canal of certain stated dimensions. They could then simply refuse to close the canal gates, as required by the Reglamento of 1895 whenever the river reached certain volumes of flow. One corporation actually did challenge the federal government in 1896 using the constitutional argument.' Of course, this question of the central government's constitutional right was beyond the engineers' competence to deal with. What concerned them much more was to observe the shakiness of private owners' rights to take water from the Rio Nazas. That is, many of the rights held by way of prescripción—meaning by pacific and unchallenged use during a ten-year period—simply had no such basis. Rights had been challenged repeatedly, over many years, either by legal process, by appeals to administrative agencies, or, in a few cases, by physical resistance with arms in hand. To put this in another way, the ten years that might have been used by most owners to establish prescriptive rights would have run from some time in the 1870s until some time in the 1880s, up to the enactment of the Waters Law of 1888 with its provision that owners could now come forward to establish their rights and have them confirmed. Yet during those same years, from the 1870s into the 1880s, most owners had been installing or expanding their irrigation works. And almost all of them had been challenged at that particular stage by neighbors or by public authority.' Few, therefore, would have been able to show pacific and unchallenged use of river water during their first ten years of such use. So what this almost surely meant was that the prospect was for more conflict among owners, who were continuing to bring more land into cultivation, who were using more water than at first, and who were nervous both about their own rights and about the activities of their neighbors, who were also expanding their operations. What was to be done about this was a question that had the engineers wracking their brains.® How could the volume of water represented by any one of the rights claimed by landowners be stated with certainty? And as for any original grants made by governments long before, none of them had specified any volumes of water. Señor X had merely asked the privilege of opening a canal into his land so as to irrigate it; and he had been given that right. Even then, of course, a requirement existed that the water be used only on the land of the person receiving the right. Further, there had also been a sort of assumption that the owner would water only the amount of land then on hand to be cultivated. But this part of the understanding was long since unverifiable because the amount of land had never been stated in the early grants of water. Nor were there public records showing how many hectares of land Señora Y had in production at the time she

202

Crisis in La Laguna

received her water grant, or at any time since then. As late as 1910 there was no map of the cultivated lands in the Comarca Lagunera. The engineers did know from talking with knowledgeable people who had long lived near the river that owners were now cultivating far more land and, consequently, were using much more water than originally granted to them — more than they had ever used before. But nobody could prove anything about all that. The federal government had come up against these very difficulties when making the Reglamentos of 1891 and 1895. Given the urgency in both cases, there had been no attempt to investigate the owners' claims, and rights had been stated purely on the basis of the current capacity of irrigation facilities. Nothing was done to establish the number of hectares to which that water could legally be taken. Moreover, no attempt had been made to specify how many days in a year the canals could stand open. It had been assumed, simply in order to finish the reglamentos quickly and acceptably for all to approve, that the capacity of anyone's irrigation works in 1891 or in 1895 was the same as when the original water right—whether made by grant or by prescription—had been won. 10 Thinking of the other main consideration—the efficiency of agriculture in the Comarca Lagunera—the engineers would have been glad to suggest further changes in the management of the river. But there seemed to be nowhere to turn for more effective policies. It seemed fruitless, therefore, to investigate the main facts relating to farming itself. Of what use was it to census the lands, if one were not legally able to adjust water allotments up or down? What would be gained by suggesting more efficient methods, or repair and improvement of irrigation works? Such suggestions were not likely to be taken up where the landowners' interests were so clearly in favor of spending for two other purposes—putting more land into production and capturing more river water. The engineers did believe that any owner would do better in the long run by improving a smaller assemblage of land and canals. But even this opinion was questionable, because the Nazas in its highest floods was still able to overflow its banks and wash away crops and constructions located anywhere near. In times of strong but not overpowering flow, most owners did not dare to take the maximum flow allowed to them because of rickety gates and insecure canal constructions. 11 To the government's engineers, this meant that many of the larger properties would not be able to increase their cotton production: they could not bring more water through the existing canals, and they were doing nothing to reduce the waste of water or to make their operations more productive. For lack of basic information, unsureness about better policy moves, political problems in the district, or whatever other reasons, the federal

Crisis in La Laguna

203

government did not try to alter the reglamento for the Rio Nazas during the late 1890s or early in the twentieth century. Owners went on expanding the extents of land in cultivation and hoping and petitioning for more water. Meanwhile, the government held firm to its arrangements for the time being, during those years when the river almost always delivered much less water than the expectable average. The Comisión Inspectora dealt with emergencies, trying to help avoid damage to properties during the occasional periods of strong flow11 from 1896 to 1907. Beyond this, there was no serious change in the situation save for a steady increase in pressure19 from landowners to make more water available. As time went on it was the lower-river owners who managed to cooperate with each other more often to demand from the federal government a larger share in the river's flow. Among these owners in Coahuila State, Francisco Madero, a son of one of the most influential and richest families, took the lead both in the downstream group's efforts and on his own behalf. To increase the amount of water available annually, and to make the larger amount reliable, he recommended a new departure: that a large storage dam be built in the Cañón de Fernández, well above the low-lying stretch of the river which contained all the large properties and municipalities. 14 It is not known whether this idea was his own or whether it was suggested by someone in the Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas. In any case, Madero pressed the idea personally with President Diaz. And the Comisión Inspectora did preliminary studies of the Cañón de Fernández with this idea of a high dam in mind. 15 Finally, in 1908, the executive branch of the government was ready to move forward with new policies. In January the congress gave the president a firmer constitutional basis for administration of rivers by voting a modification of Article 72 of the constitution, clearly placing the Rio Nazas within federal jurisdiction. 16 The president was currently contracting with the Mexican firm of S. Pearson and Son (a Mexican branch of Weetman Pearson's engineering company) to do a study localizing the best site for a high dam on the Nazas. The objective was to provide both a more reliable source of water each year and a larger annual volume. The government felt more confident in such arrangements, with information from the Comisión Inspectora which showed the amounts needed year by year in both "upper" and "lower" farming zones. And the government now also had a coeficiente de riego, a figure for the amount of water needed to serve a hectare of land for cotton cultivation. 17 While the investigations aimed at locating a dam site went forward, the Ministry of Development patched up the existing policies, issuing orders to assure some water to the lower-river owners by temporarily stopping water to the upstream canals. It was one of these orders which ushered in the

204

Crisis in La Laguna

crisis among all parties involved, a crisis beginning in the summer of 1908 and continuing through the last years of Porfirio Diaz's regime, through the interim government of Francisco León de la Barra, and then throughout the presidency of Francisco Madero. Indeed, the conflicts that characterized this crisis would not be stilled until the presidency of Lázaro Cárdenas during the 1930s. On July 1, 1908, Minister Olegario Molina issued an order prohibiting the upstream properties in Durango State from taking water during the coming month of September. By that time those upper-river lands would have had most of the benefit from the river's rise, which began by July. Through September the remaining flow would give a thorough watering to the lower-river properties, and this could make all the difference, in that zone, between bringing in a crop or not having one at all. The original order from the ministry was soon followed by another that awarded all the rest of the river's flow for 1908 —all save whatever came in September—to the upper-river owners. It seems highly likely that this new policy resulted from close observations by the engineers of the Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas. The policy may, however, have reflected opinions on how best to serve properties with adequate water in that given year. The timing of the order seems likely to have come about because the river was flowing low in 1908, and the downstream owners were fearful that they would lose the opportunity for a crop. 18 But in any case, the upstream interests did not agree that the order made sense. They came forward immediately, this time accompanied by the state of Durango and the Tlahualilo Company, claiming that their rights were being set to one side and that their economic future was at stake.19 This change of federal policy came utterly without warning, and to many observers it looked like a last-minute adjustment made in the interests of one group of property owners, those in Coahuila State. But the new policy much more likely arose from the government's better understanding both of the river's regime and of the likelihood that downstream properties would be the more productive ones.*0 Despite loud opposition, the minister of development stuck to his guns, and the president continued to back his minister. Underlying this sudden policy change was the fact that the federal authorities and the Tlahualilo Company were not on a friendly basis, and the government's future attitude toward the company's operations was very much in doubt. After twenty years the company was still not complying with the basic engineering stipulations that were supposed to limit its power to take water from the river. One after another of these physical controls had been set aside. And the company had made new arrange-

Crisis in La Laguna

205

ments—such as buying the Hacienda de San Fernando and using its Río Nazas water right to serve the Tlahualilo properties far from the stream. This transferring of a water right was not permitted by law. As things stood in 1908, the company was able to take any amount of water, at least half and probably more of the river's strong flows. One of the continuing problems of the Comisión Inspectora, therefore, was to try to make sure that the company's huge canal did not simply drink up too much of the river's high and medium flows.S1 Minister Olegario Molina proved to be utterly convinced of his power to act and of the justice of his actions. But he was now facing a formidable antagonist, whose managers were determined to throw off all controls by the federal government. The Tlahualilo Company of 1908 was an utterly different organization than it had been at any time since its incorporation in 1885.** Over some very difficult years since the middle 1890s the company had drawn British and U.S. private investments, and then in a series of legal struggles it had succeeded in placing management of the Mexican corporation in the hands of officers drawn from among the foreign investors. That conversion of a semimoribund Mexican organization into a most aggressive foreign-owned group had been completed in 1903. Now the company availed itself of capital and of expert legal assistance to make a fight against the government of Mexico for an unlimited right to take water from the Rio Nazas. 85 The company had previously sought and gained diplomatic assistance from the governments of Great Britain and the United States during crucial phases of its struggles to persuade the Mexican supreme court to award the new officers full control of the company's properties. Now, in the fall of 1908, the company once again called for diplomatic assistance to support its rights. So began an almost continuous process of negotiation among four parties—the governments of Mexico, Great Britain, and the United States, and the company usually seen in the person of Severo Mallet-Prévost (a partner in the New York legal firm of Curtis, Mallet-Prévost, and Colt). The British investors never sent representatives to Mexico; but the principal North American investor, James Brown Potter, did visit Mexico City at times, and the company eventually had a resident manager there in the person of James Kitchin. The conflicts and negotiations among these principals and representatives would continue from 1908 until a lull in the year 1913. In the fall of 1908 and for more than a year to come, the Mexican government continued to take one step after another toward shaping its own new policies for the Rio Nazas problems. Simultaneously, the Tlahualilo Company attempted to take the necessary steps to free itself from whatever limitations the Mexican government had earlier placed on its water rights.

206

Crisis in La Laguna

In addition, the company also laid the groundwork for warding off any future, further limitations that might be placed in its way. At first the government kept the initiative and held all the other riverbank owners at its side. But in the early fall of 1908, the governor of Durango formally asked the president of Mexico to hear the full range of objections on the part of upper-river owners. The central government tactfully assented and scheduled a public conference to be held at Mexico City. In the meeting, to begin in March 1909, all suggestions bearing on proposed changes in the system of water distribution from the Rio Nazas would be aired. Meanwhile, the Tlahualilo Company failed to make a great deal of headway in its search for diplomatic aid. A main problem in this was the presence of a U.S. ambassador, David E. Thompson, who was reasonably well informed as to the problems of the Laguna District—indeed, he was one of the very few diplomatic representatives throughout the controversy who seemed to have sources of his own for the relevant facts and the successive incidents. Thompson was solicitous of the company's feelings but remained unconvinced that the claims it made—those interpreting its own history and actions, and those interpreting Mexican government actions and policies—could safely be taken at face value. So for a while the attempts to create a joint British-North American representation in the interest of the company did not advance far. 14 At the time, the company's announced desire was to have the special August-September water prohibition lifted for the fall of 1908 and for all future years. The British Foreign Office and its representatives in Mexico came forward actively on this issue. They also took the opportunity to do some pondering concerning the underlying matter of controversy, the question of whether the Tlahualilo Company's water right was so clear that His Majesty's Government could defend that ground as well should the controversy move to such a basic level.' 5 At that season Sir Edward Grey, Britain's foreign secretary, was not yet convinced that emphatic representation, or even emphatic search for common action by Great Britain and the United States, was yet called for. 86 Nonetheless, something was being gained during the fall of 1908 for the Tlahualilo Company, a priceless asset that would not be lost during the coming five years of hard bargaining and of hopes and fears that rose and fell with the passing seasons. The company's attorney, Mallet-Prevost, was beginning to create a reasonable doubt and then, progressively, a rising feeling of certainty within the minds of permanent staff people both in Great Britain's Foreign Office and in the U.S. Department of State. He did this through frequent conferences and correspondence, as well as through a long series of typewritten memorandums and even some printed pieces, usually running to more than a hundred pages each. These statements

Crisis in La Laguna

207

paced each stage of the controversy with a seemingly thorough and reliable dissertation that included facts, interpretations, and suggested courses of action. Beginning in the fall of 1908, when his documents were read merely as statements by an interested party, this series of books, booklets, interviews, and letters increasingly became the source material for official statements by both foreign governments now interested in Mexico's Rio Nazas. To be as sure as he could be that his materials were read in the proper manner, and that his recommended courses of action might be adopted in good time, Mallet-Prévost traveled between New York, Washington, London, and Mexico City. His central points of argument were taken up by influential officials, probably because he was the only person outside the Mexican government who spent ample time in marshaling and presenting all the "facts" as they developed. Moreover, he always related those facts to a master interpretation of the controversy which made each new development understandable in light of events of the recent and more remote past. Mallet-Prévost had an opportunity to gain a complete victory for the company during the early months of 1909. At that time Minister Olegario Molina left Mexico City for a long sojourn on his henequen plantations in Yucatán. While he was away, Mallet-Prévost appeared at Mexico City and quickly renewed his established relations with the minister of the treasury, José Limantour. Thereupon, the company attorney and the minister began to negotiate a settlement of the problems of the Tlahualilo Company. What Limantour was doing in this relationship may not seem obvious now, but it was reasonable enough at the time. The minister had recently finished shepherding through the congress his own main contribution to the solution of Mexico's agricultural crisis, the new legislation permitting the creation of discount banks that might take over some of the unproductive agricultural investments weighing down the books of a number of Mexican private banks. The first of these new institutions, the Caja de Préstamos para Obras de Irrigación y Fomento de la Agricultura, S.A., would also make loans to be used in irrigating agricultural land. Aside from his involvement in this new activity, Limantour could still be assumed to be the closest adviser of President Porfirio Diaz in any matter involving foreign investment, financing, or related aspects of economic development. So Mallet-Prévost and Limantour conferred, and the result was a proposed settlement of current controversies between the company and Mexico's federal government. The many items in this preliminary agreement embodied almost all that the company then desired. Indeed, the only item struck out was an indemnity the company wanted Mexico to pay. That, neither Limantour nor President Diaz felt, would consort with the republic's dignity.

208

Crisis in La Laguna

Unfortunately enough for the company, Mallet-Prévost's schedule of visits to various other cities brought a crucial period of delay in the negotiations, just enough of an interval to permit the return of Minister Olegario Molina to Mexico City" (where he arrived a few days late for the inception of the Nazas River Conference, which brought together all those who considered themselves to hold principal economic and political interests in the water distribution problems of the river). So, in late March 1909, Molina was able to scotch the arrangements Mallet-Prévost had by that time nearly perfected with Minister Limantour and with President Diaz. Or at least, it seemed that no direct settlement was possible on the lines already discussed. There was, however, some sort of misunderstanding in all this. The Mexican government was still inclined to make a direct settlement, as Ambassador Thompson of the United States discovered early in April. Meantime, though, the attorney for the Tlahualilo Company still believed that direct negotiation could not prosper, and he had therefore already taken the next step in his course of action. This next move was to visit the initial sessions of the Nazas River Conference with an "either-or" question to ask. Mallet-Prévost's intention was to seek to discover whether Minister Molina considered private parties' water rights to pertain to water while still in the river or only after delivered from the stream into privately owned canals. If Molina's answer was to be "only afterward," then the company would secede from the conference and go directly into court to sue the Mexican government. The central objective in this would be to have the company's understanding of the nature of its water right confirmed by the Mexican supreme court. That done, the company could henceforth be certain both of the volume of water it "owned" and of the fact that that volume could not be altered from time to time by the government's administrative action. Nonetheless, if the company did go into court it would still continue to encourage diplomatic pressures, so that Mexico's central government might at any time be persuaded to take the easier and quicker way of an accord made directly with the company. So Mallet-Prévost went ahead with his preconceived plans, as did Minister Olegario Molina with his. When asked during the early days of the Nazas River Conference whether he considered property in water to accrue to private owners only after the water had reached those private hands, Molina answered yes and explained why. The company representative accordingly withdrew from the conference, M and Mallet-Prévost soon filed an appeal before the supreme court of the federation. All this meant that Mallet-Prévost had moved much too quickly to carry with him the British Foreign Office or the U.S. State Department. They had come into the affair in the fall of 1908 to help the company lift the minister of development's orders to shut off water to the Tlahualilo canal

Crisis in La Laguna

209

during the month of September. It had taken them some time, however, to see clearly that they were being asked to assist some of their own citizens who were private investors in a Mexican corporation. They were aware in a general way, of course, that the underlying issue, which might eventually become the core of the controversy, had to do with the water right granted to the company by Mexico's government in 1888. But these officials of Great Britain and of the United States did not know Mexican law in that respect or the history of relationships between company and government since 1888. Now, in April of 1909, the company had already moved on to that central issue—confirmation of its water right—before the diplomats were yet sure of the basic facts or of the merits of any aspect of the case. It would tell us little about Mexico's irrigation policies to follow each of the twistings and turnings of subsequent stages of this diplomatic involvement. A very general outline will show that international negotiations did not succeed in changing Mexico's policies during Porfirio Diaz's presidency. As for the parallel and intermingling negotiations carried on by Great Britain, the United States, and the Tlahualilo Company with the Mexican government, they went something like this. From the spring of 1909 until about the end of 1910, the two foreign governments tried to bring about a direct settlement between the Mexican executive and the company managers. In this, they were endeavoring to finish the negotiations so well begun by Mallet-Prevost when he dealt directly with Minister Limantour and with President Diaz. And the two foreign governments slowly came to recognize that in advocating such a settlement they were fully supporting the Tlahualilo Company's right to take water from the Rio Nazas. There was, however, a special problem in this. Could the United States and Great Britain deem it proper to negotiate for better treatment of their citizens who had invested in a Mexican corporation? As one of the North American officials had put this issue in the fall of 1908: "We have h e r e . . . American stockholders and bondholders of an English company which in turn owns directly or through trustees the stock and bonds of a Mexican company. This state of affairs would seem to preclude the Department from diplomatic intervention."*9 Likewise, the British Foreign Office had felt uncertainty at taking a position in favor of private investors in a foreign company, unless the interests involved were, literally, being "obliterated" by action of the foreign government. Eventually, though, Sir Edward Grey, Britain's foreign secretary, was persuaded that although one did not ordinarily intrude in a foreign country in just this way, one could do so where the interests involved were very large, and very important.' 0 As for the United States, an analogous policy—insisting on the welfare of U.S. private investment in a foreign corporation—came in with Secretary

210

Crisis in La Laguna

of State Philander Knox in early 1909. He soon had with him in the Latin American section of the State Department a group of officials who were intent on carrying out an emphatic U.S. policy. So, from merely asking about the temporary cutoff of water to the Tlahualilo Company, the State Department took the one long step to backing the proposal for a full settlement of all issues lying between company and government. Moreover, a year later, in early 1910, the State Department had a new and fervent ambassador in Mexico, and at that time the U.S. policy shifted most dramatically. The United States informed Mexico that, if it could not make a satisfactory settlement, the whole affair would have to be taken to the International Court of Justice or to some avenue of arbitration. All this was happening while the company's case was before the supreme court of Mexico. The Mexican president and his minister of development, thus, tried to fend off the suggestions of the two foreign powers. The president spoke with diplomats in conciliatory personal discussions. The minister furnished detailed memorandums explaining Mexico's position on each issue involving the company. Furthermore, Mexican leaders repeatedly pointed out that they were in no position to make settlements on any issues through the executive branch of government so long as all issues were still being adjudicated in the supreme court. After the Nazas River Conference had concluded, the Mexican executive had continued with discussions among a small group of interested parties. Finally, on July 15,1909, the government announced the result of all these discussions, its new reglamento for the Rio Nazas. All the owners save the Tlahualilo Company, it appeared, were willing to give the new system a try.91 That fact was repeated over and over to the foreign diplomats to indicate that Rio Nazas affairs were being managed effectively by Mexico's government. So from early 1909 through 1910, while negotiations proceeded fretfully, the two opposed parties—the company and Mexico's federal executive— moved along opposing lines. The government went ahead with its new distribution system for Rio Nazas water, awaiting the moment to begin building a high dam on the river. For its part, the company kept busy trying to arrive at a direct property settlement that would radically alter the government's water distribution system. The company also argued against building any dam on the Rio Nazas. And all the while, both company and government were explaining their utterly opposed views before the supreme court. In court the government's attorneys resurrected every historical argument and document, every imaginable justification to rebut each assertion by the company. The result was a confrontation of basically different views, utterly contrasting understandings of the past, present, and future.

Crisis in La Laguna

211

These contrasts were all the more vivid because each advocate spoke for a lively continuing effort based on the highest of ideals and evoking traditions going back hundreds of years. It would be an almost endless task to enumerate the points of difference brought up by the company, to be contravened in each case by the Mexican executive. The company raised almost any point that could conceivably suggest virtue or merit on its own part or vice or error in the government's actions. As illustrations of the wide spread of arguments introduced by the company, one alleged that the Tlahualilo's was the only legal water right pertaining to the Rio Nazas. Another claim was for more than eleven million pesos in damages, in consideration of cotton not grown because of denial of water by government authorities over the years since 1891. Yet another point was that the company's concession of 1888 had antedated the federal waters law of that year, and that, therefore, the waters law had no application to the company's property or affairs. In its counterplea the government took equally uncompromising positions. The company's interpretations of Spanish and Mexican law, it averred, were utterly defective and misleading. Continuously through the centuries, the law had either stated or implied that water was in the public domain as long as it ran in a river within public jurisdiction. Only when granted away legally, and transferred physically, into private territory did such water become private property. Also, the government claimed, the company had never complied with conditions of its concession of 1888; nor had it ever sought to have its water right confirmed by the federal authority. So the government could now request that the company's Tlahualilo water right®1 be considered nonexistent. What lay behind the specific points in contention were two opposing polar views of public and private initiative in a time of rapid economic development. The company looked to government to grant permission for private enterprise to enter in, with the government later acting only to protect the rights of private entrepreneurs as they proceeded to expand their wealth and build the economy. The government, on its side, saw its role to be encouragement of as much private enterprise as possible, with the attendant responsibility of overseeing, balancing, and regulating the whole economic process in the interest of increasing production needed by all the people. This conflict of views often appeared as a clash between advocates of passive and of active government. In a deeper sense the conflict focused on two different beliefs about how change can come about in a respectable and established society. The one view, that of the company, held that personal or corporate interest should prevail. If the company should wish to do something, or not to do something, that decision would be made in the company's best interest—which

212

Crisis in La Laguna

was also seen as serving a better future for the republic. The private party, in other words, had to be free to proceed in its chosen way. Government could be counted upon to accommodate any such decisions by the private party; the most a private party such as the company need do about that would be to find someone in government who would express approval. In this way, with many parties going their own ways, each with careful regard for making rational decisions, all could live in freedom and all would prosper. The other view was that of the government, which felt itself to be responsible for the general welfare. It could not, it believed, allow an anarchy of interests if that were to mean loss of economic energies or a failure of the economy to move forward. A healthy situation of accommodation among interests, by contrast, could lead to better results for all. When new developments threatened the forward march of the economy, therefore, the government had to be powerful in the situation so as to make whatever new arrangements might be needed. From this viewpoint, it mattered a great deal not only that government hold the ultimate power of decision but that everyone in government serve only those purposes assigned to them by the constitution and by enabling laws. Thus the government held a double responsibility: it had to act on behalf of the public good, and it also had to be seen as acting correctly, according to the legal rules that defended both the people at large and every individual in particular. During the proceedings before the supreme court, this basic difference of view came repeatedly, and painfully, to the fore. The company's argument, although replete with historical and legal proofs, was based, ultimately, on the assumption that private entrepreneurs were the best judges of their own actions. They were the ones to decide which government requirements needed to be followed and which might be disregarded. It should not seem strange, thus, that the company argued it should be free to choose which specific provisions to accede to among all those in the concession of 1888, the reglamentos of 1891, 1895, and 1909, and the many individual orders issued in 1908 and at other times. Likewise, the company argued that a personal agreement with the president—a temporary permission to take water from San Fernando Hacienda into Tlahualilo lands — should have the force of law and should bind the Mexican government. To the company's spokesmen these were all reasonable propositions because they bore importantly on the essential matter, that of helping the company to succeed and to prosper. The government's stone-wall opposition to such suggestions should also not seem perverse or dogmatic. The government asserted that when the company accepted part of a reglamento, that acceptance had to be taken to mean that the company was prepared to comply with the whole—that

Crisis in La Laguna

213

from then on the company could be considered to have agreed to follow all provisions in the reglamento. As for the personal agreement between the company and President Diaz in 1890, the government insisted on two crucial aspects. First was the fact that the president had not simply given permission for the transfer of water from San Fernando Hacienda to the Tlahualilo lands; he had agreed to that in return for the company's promise to comply with engineering specifications in its concession of 1888. That meeting in 1890, thus, had yielded something for both sides, but the company had run out on its part of the bargain. And, second, the government insisted that President Diaz's action in 1890 had been but a temporary convenience offered by the executive authority, in no way a law and in no sense permanent in effect. These illustrations are given here simply to show that the two basic viewpoints argued in court were not concerned mainly with the splitting of legalistic hairs. Each advocate, rather, was intent upon vindicating its own actions in light of a profound view of how the affairs of the commonwealth ought to be ordered. The justices of the court heard and examined all the proofs at great length, called for still more information, and spent some time traveling to the Comarca Lagunera to look over the scene itself. The decision in the case came down only after two years," and it was worded with great care. It constituted a complete vindication of the defense entered by the federal government and of the government's counterplea. After appeal had been called for and carried through, a second decision also went in favor of Mexico's government, upholding both its defense and the counterdemands it had m a d e . " By the time the supreme court's original decision appeared in early 1911, both the British Foreign Office and the U.S. Department of State were thoroughly involved in the controversy. Whatever interest they may once have felt for the more remote, historicolegal aspects had faded. Indeed, insofar as can be detected so long after the events, it appears as if the North American officials had always left the historical research and all interpretation of the many "facts" in the case to the New York law firm of Curtis, Mallet-Prevost, and Colt. Moreover, after 1908 there is little to show that any of the officials at Washington, D.C. read carefully or gave any weight to the expositions sent by the Mexican government. From the first, too, the State Department people apparently had nothing but disregard or scorn for the warnings and careful opinions sent to them by the U.S. Ambassador, David Thompson. Gradually the view in the State Department had hardened around a plain-language understanding that the company's viewpoint represented justice, equity, and those principles that had come down in "international law." But what these officials meant by the phrase

214

Crisis in La Laguna

international law was not clear, then or later.' 5 For instance, the assurance that justice was on the side of the company easily survived the Mexican argument that the law of nations—as seen in the recent scholarly compilations by the noted U.S. authority John Bassett Moore—exactly supported the Mexican view as to why foreign interpositions could not be allowed in just this sort of case. The U.S. stand in the controversy shaped itself in 1910 and 1911 within the new State Department group just being formed, as one man after another came in from New York or from foreign diplomatic service to manage Latin American affairs for the U.S. government." Their spirit was one of asserting the conception of justice known best in Washington at that time in cases then pending with Latin American nations. They wanted to "clean up" these matters, to show the other nations just how wrong they were and how clearly the U.S. view embodied fairness and truth. According to one of the central participants in this effort, this view did come to prevail in a heartening number of such cases.97 No doubt the Tlahualilo Company's was one such case, even though it Anally could not be settled at once or along lines so strongly urged by the United States and by Great Britain in support of the North American demands. The energetic ambassador at Mexico City, Henry Lane Wilson, might insist that Mexico had to agree to settle the affair informally after listening to his "conscientious and equitable reasoning";" but the Mexicans had no intention of hearing this kind of argument. As Ambassador Wilson understood the situation, the Mexicans continued to rely in their bullheadedness upon "pretexts which cannot be sustained either by sound reasoning or precedents."*9 So as the presidency of Porflrio Diaz drew to its close, the Tlahualilo controversy was still awaiting a decision on appeal in the supreme court, and the separation between the three national governments involved in the conflict was greater than ever before. Mexico would continue to insist that the appellant was a Mexican corporation that deserved, and that had been receiving, full access to the remedies offered in Mexican law. Having lost its case in court, the company had appealed that decision. If it were to lose on appeal, it would have nothing further to ask of Mexico's government, the latter asserted, save the good treatment it had always enjoyed at the hands of public servants.40 Foreign nations had absolutely no ground for requesting reconsideration, arbitration, or a new settlement in favor of the company's interests. To ask such things was in itself to suggest infringing upon the sovereignty of Mexico. On its side the company was convinced that its cause was just and that it had been unfairly judged. Its managers were certain that the company deserved redress in the form of both reinstatement of its property right and retribution in large sums of money. The British Foreign Office and the

Crisis in La Laguna

215

U.S. Department of State agreed in these convictions. Simple justice such as anyone could expect to have in any civilized nation had not been given. The interests represented in the company had been irreparably and unjustly damaged. Nor could Mexico be allowed to take shelter behind its strange argument that a Mexican corporation could be judged only by Mexico's legal processes: where a foreign investor held part of the interests in such a corporation, the foreigner's own government was more than justified in pressing the case for that foreign citizen.41 If Mexico did not wish to have such diplomatic influence visited upon it, then let it come out honestly and submit to arbitration by judges of other countries at the Hague Tribunal. Better yet, let Mexico be guided by the wisdom it might receive any day from the U.S. Department of State. How much damage to mutual relationships had occurred in these first stages of the Tlahualilo controversy no one can now say. We can say with certainty, however, that the company's legal basis and respectability of operation had been disrupted and thrown into serious doubt. It seemed likely now that the corporation would have to limp along, trying to serve the extensive Tlahualilo lands with the limited water right of the Hacienda de San Fernando—if, that is, the Mexican government would agree to such a transfer of water from the one property to the other. As for the Mexican government, its officials had spent long hours over the past few years working on this case, while many more constructive matters awaited their attention. Mexico had at the time very few engineers, administrators, and lawyers whose personal experience of affairs in the Comarca Lagunera and whose professional sophistication fitted them for the tasks required: to build up, first, the case for Mexico and against the company, then, the counterplea against the company's submissions, and, last, the careful answers given to the supreme court's searching questions. Diversion of time for this case was no doubt a more serious matter for the Mexican government than we can imagine. Meantime, a habit of estrangement and friction had grown up between the United States and Mexico, especially after the U.S. initiative passed so thoroughly into the hands of the attorney Mallet-Prévost and Ambassador Henry Lane Wilson. 48 Relations between the two countries had been deteriorating, actually, before the Tlahualilo controversy began to mount, and during the years from 1908 on past the end of the Diaz presidency, this Tlahualilo affair merely added one serious disagreement, one more quietly infuriating source of discord. As for British official feelings, it is fair to say that when the controversy reached a brief pause after the original supreme court decision, there was resentment of Mexico's immovable position, but some weariness also in the face of a situation that seemed to offer no simple road toward solution of the problems in view. By that time the controversy showed signs of sweeping up into itself some

216

Crisis in La Laguna

matters that should never have become part of such a national and international conflict. One item that was touched and perhaps blighted was the project for a high dam on the Rio Nazas. There are slight indications that this project came to be seen as another bad thing, another threat to the company's property interest. In any case, it was talked down during the diplomatic negotiations, and one is left to wonder whether this was the reason why Mexico imposed delay, proceeding neither to conclude the preliminary studies nor to undertake any planning at all for the dam in 1910 and 1911. The Tlahualilo crisis served, in fact, as a symbol of the standstill that became characteristic of river management in Mexico by 1910-1911. In the frenzied discussions before the supreme court one sees how limited were the alternatives for action contemplated by the main participants. They still spoke only in terms of the variable amount of water that might come down the river each year. Such an alternative as pumping out the ample supply of underground water was not yet in mind, although that expedient was already in use nearby; 49 and in later years pumping would be used, and overused, as a stopgap method for increasing the water supply. Another limitation on the alternatives for action was suggested by the uncertainty about how much water was being used in cultivation in the Comarca Lagunera. The Pearson engineers, studying prospects and needs for a high dam, reported that it would be unreasonable to provide for fewer than 1400 million cubic feet of water to be stored in the dam 44 as an annual water supply for lands in cultivation as of the end of the year 1909. This figure was in stark contrast to Rámon de Ibarrola's estimate of 18901891, when he assumed that 1000 million would suffice as an average supply. And the figure of 1400 million was frightening enough, if one recalled that only three times during the years from 1896 to 1908 had that amount of water come down the Rio Nazas. Another way of putting the predicament was that there were not nearly enough irrigation works in the Laguna District, let alone enough efficient ones. Nor were the district lands well prepared for the cultivation they would receive. Furthermore, there were insufficient facts on hand to guide expert efforts toward the most urgently needed and workable, expedient courses of action. Discussing these and other difficulties, the experienced engineer Adalberto Hernández pointed to some unexpectable and paradoxical facts. In recent years, for instance, the upper-river properties with much larger water rights had been receiving much less water than their legal due, and they had not been complaining. The lower-river owners, by contrast, with smaller allotments of river water, had been given much more than their portions, and they had been complaining vigorously of deprivation. Her-

Crisis in La Laguna

217

nandez discussed the possibilities inherent in a current suggestion to take still more water from upstream canals to give to those farther downriver. His basic view, however, was that "no permanent arrangement of a system for distribution of waters can now be arrived at," because there were still not nearly enough "agricultural, hydraulic, or topographic facts" 4 5 basic to the situation. Adalberto Hernandez's anguished discussion of problems and prospects, such as they were just after the Tlahualilo Company entered its appeal to the supreme court, suggests an equally broad judgment on the controversy. The almost explosive economic development in the Comarca Lagunera had run away with the people in the situation — those trying to gain profit, those seeking to earn a daily wage, and those others who attempted tomanage the growing wealth for the good of all. Through the late years of the nineteenth century and into the earliest years of the twentieth, rapid expansion continued to outpace the attempts being made by many people to bring some sense of balance and coordination into all the burgeoning processes of growth. Old-style laissez-faire capitalism and a very young and unpracticed style of economic nationalism did not mix well in the affairs of the Laguna District, and the clash between them was not settled there in the time of Porfirio Diaz or, yet, in the presidency of Francisco Madero.

9 Conclusion

President Porfirio Diaz's policies for irrigation and water resources were part and parcel of his approach to economic expansion and development. Policies took shape rapidly during the 1880s, and by the 1890s the activities of federal authorities were evolving apace. The early twentieth century then saw major legal and administrative changes come in quick succession, after which all policies underwent a rapid elaboration during the final turbulent years of the regime. By that time increasing numbers of Mexicans understood at last that the whole economic enterprise in Mexico was still too incomplete and too unbalanced to meet basic needs of the people, let alone to answer demands for new increases in aggregate wealth. Over the years from the late 1870s until 1911, many policy considerations, including those bearing on farmlands irrigation and water policy, worked toward broader and better approaches to serious problems. Objectives shifted somewhat, given the fact that there were constantly more interests to be served. Having begun, then, as so many measures to favor private enterprisers' efforts to take profits, and thereby to some extent to increase Mexico's wealth, the water policies ended in a proliferation of aims that included traditional concerns as well as some highly innovative ones. In 1911 the federal government was still pushing forward with efforts to strengthen both private property rights and that measure of authority still lying with state governments. Thus, for example, the central government was regulating some major streams in the interest of private landowners. At the same time, however, the federal authorities were also looking forward to managing all of Mexico's important rivers. Not only would the government dominate, but it would also use modern considerations of effi218

Conclusion

219

ciency in river basin management. Such transition toward modern management would require laying aside the two older criteria—federal-state division of authority and preeminence of private rights. This shift from the traditional to the modern was, in fact, still in preparation rather than fully in process. The case was similar, too, for policies of other kinds—those bearing on banking, foreign trade, mining, railroad operation, forestry exploitation, land ownership, petroleum extraction, and development of the federal bureaucracy. All these fields of policy became much more complex as the Diaz regime came to an end. In none of them, however, had traditional considerations been laid aside, although all had escaped the narrow bounds of the older style of free-enterprise liberalism with which Porfirio Díaz had begun so many years before. The water policies grew in accord with the president's specific desires for increasing Mexico's wealth. And the policies also followed a historic trend toward stronger central government, a drift already established long before Diaz's presidency. Mexico had a ministry of development before Porfirio Díaz took office, and it was but a short step to take for him to elaborate that government secretariat so as to encourage the expansion of agriculture and irrigation. 1 Moreover, as soon as the national government began to make special efforts toward irrigation and river management, those efforts carried over into the existing tangle of applicable laws. Step by step during the 1890s and into the twentieth century, the central government devoted the time and expertise necessary to make laws sufficient to the growing scale and complexity of private and public activities. All of this suited the president's long-range plan to make the government more effective in directing the economy. Thus, without ever ceasing to favor large-scale enterprise, the regime gradually resumed the roles that government had exercised during the comparatively vigorous days of the Bourbon rulers and viceroys of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Beginning in the 1880s the central government played a much more active part in arbitrating and mediating among property owners who were contending for scarce resources. It elaborated ground rules, procedures, and scopes of action which would focus as well as limit private enterprise, and it stated priorities and preferences for one kind of activity over another. These favored alternatives were embodied in laws and reflected in day-to-day administration. Finally, and ever more clearly, the government took measures to protect the economic sphere from domination by foreigners. This eventually became general policy, growing from the belief that Mexico's private enterprisers were as yet too weak to defend themselves. The government would protect them, therefore, from the consequences of growing dependence upon world market demands and also against the powerful influence being brought to bear by foreigners investing in Mex-

220

Conclusion

ico's economy. Such economic nationalism coexisted, nonetheless, with the equally strong policy of attracting as much new private investment, Mexican and foreign, as possible into the economy. It was assumed that largescale investors would be the most efficient and innovative. Indeed, President Diaz's irrigation and waters policies reflected the regime's strong bias in favor of development by rich investors with undertakings of large scale. From their beginnings in the 1880s, all the new policies and procedures were predicated on the assumption that private investment would be of such size that its managers could avail themselves of any expert services they might need from engineers or lawyers. This is also to say that Diaz's policies aimed at increasing Mexico's aggregate wealth2 as quickly as possible, and as with almost all efforts by governments in capitalist societies, preference went to the larger enterprises. These were so few that their interests could be both reasonably well served and, as proved necessary, monitored even by a small bureaucracy. It was expected that such large operations would bring impressive results in production. During the whole span of Porfirio Diaz's presidency, thus, it was these specific interests and problems of rich enterprisers which were most clearly in view. The many problems of poor farmers and, indeed, of the whole rural population slowly fell into the background of policymaking. Medium- and small-scale agricultural production were taken into account only at the very end, when it was too late for action to have any effect.' Further, even then it is not clear whether the desire was to increase production so that the small producers could become consumers in the money economy, so that expensive imports of cereals could be avoided, or in order to reduce agricultural prices to levels within reach of the millions of hungry people. In many other respects as well the irrigation and waters policies of the Diaz administration reflect important processes within the government and larger issues with which it was concerned. Mexico during those years was learning more and more rapidly from the experience of the United States and of some of the industrializing nations of western Europe. Moreover, attention to policies that seemed to be proving successful abroad encouraged Mexico's incipient efforts toward technical education. The nation, it was hoped, would bring forth competent professionals able to reproduce foreign innovations within Mexico. Thus in 1906 the government engineer Manuel Vera urged "the National Agricultural School to introduce hydraulic engineering studies into its curriculum." 4 This was one of many signs of a new awareness of the timely means and approaches to modernization which could be found in foreign practice. Likewise, the waters and irrigation policies followed the historical trend in the Mexican economy toward diversification without the predominance of any one industry. President Diaz's policies for the water resource eventually pointed at a whole range of enterprises—factory industries, commer-

Conclusion

221

cial agriculture, generation of electricity, and railroading and mining—in addition to supplying urban centers. Further, these policies were a part not merely of the president's own changing view of agriculture but of broader considerations as well. He began with a feeling that farming was proceeding satisfactorily and would need attention mainly in regard to importing new commercial crop plants. As time went on, then, he saw clearly the need to put water resources to much better use in a wide variety of agricultural and industrial endeavors as well as in other ways. As with the administration of water policies and the management of streams, so in many other realms of government there appeared new bureaucratic groups and structures to deal with the numerous problems now demanding the close attention of public authorities. Steps taken by the president to increase the size and resourcefulness of government and to improve the competence of each part of the central administration would later be followed by Revolutionary regimes in shaping and strengthening the public service. Agencies seen in Porfirio Diaz's time only in miniature would become larger and much more specialized in later days. They would also deal with serious national problems and cope with economic development on a much grander scale than imagined before 1911. In his style of administration, too, President Diaz followed what now seems to have been a traditional and pervasive Mexican approach in policymaking and management. Once a problem was recognized as such, the usual pattern was to take the measure of the difficulties and then to act on the information and understandings current at the time —rather than to wait until adequate study could ensure a perfect first step. In this administrative style there need be no concern for master planning or for elaborate advance preparations. Nor is there a strong feeling of commitment to current policies that fail to achieve results. A different approach can be taken quickly—again, as before, using the best current information and whatever means, methods, and personnel may be at hand. Of course, the Mexican administrative style before 1911 was not nearly as fluid or as quick to identify and grasp problems as it has been over the past half century or more. Not only was Diaz's administrative machine comparatively small, and lacking in both experience and specialized resources, but the basic assumptions of his economic policies channeled administrative efforts much more narrowly than is the case in our own day. As but one example of the difference in approach, it is clear that Diaz never gave high priority to enterprises simply because they might create large numbers of jobs, since he never saw the lack of employment in Mexico as a significant national problem. By contrast, the most recent presidential regimes seem to have given a somewhat higher priority than did earlier administrations to creation of jobs in large numbers. Diaz's policies did prepare the way for one giant step toward greater gov-

222

Conclusion

ernmental power, a most important change that would occur shortly after the end of his presidency. This crucial step, so evident in a multitude of nations at different times in this century, is the one whereby the central government emerges as the guardian or guarantor of the welfare of the people. Taking this step means to dispense with all the time-honored excuses for government inactivity with regard to problems afflicting the people. By so doing the government thus sets aside all the intermediary and supposedly superior powers that have always been presumed to limit the power of any human government: for instance, the authority of God, the immutable workings of economic laws, or the iron division of functions between federal and state government agencies. The Diaz regime never actually came close to setting aside such limitations, but from the 1880s until 1911 the central government's mounting intensity of activity chipped away at all the traditional limits on the state's full measure of responsibility for solving problems. It would remain for the Mexican Revolution to take the final public steps in that direction, both in provisions of the Constitution of 1917 and then in the growing responsibilities and actions of the central government as it steadily grew in importance after 1920. Another key question is whether or not Porfirio Diaz's regime stressed expansion of existing efforts in the economy rather than development of new kinds of activities. Was it simply increases in production that were wanted, or much more than that, an increase in existing activities along with the establishment of new ones? In answer it can be said that Diaz's policies stressed expansion and diversification almost equally. Neither of these approaches to the increase of national wealth found resistance in government policy; neither was to be blocked. To say this is to recognize once again that there was little tendency toward planning at the time. There were certainly no master plans, and presumably there were no understandings that would give an increase in existing production priority over the creation of new industries. Marvin Bernstein believes, for instance, that there is no settling a related question as to whether the location of Mexico's railways was bad or good. Bernstein reminds us that Treasury Minister Limantour publicly complained about the shape of the railroad network as "neglecting considerable sections" of Mexico while "overrailroading others." One cannot rule on this question, says Bernstein, because, first of all, the railroad builders were at work in an old country "with fixed economic patterns." And the question of good or bad location of railways remains moot, because "there was no economic planning" to begin with, merely a series of decisions made by private entrepreneurs in expectation of profit. 5 In varying measure the same could be said of other main economic changes at that time. The banking industry happened to have taken its

Conclusion

223

first strong beginnings from the establishment of two private institutions. Later, the great power exerted over that industry by the federal government never signified any attempt to change the basic fact that those two earliest banks were at the basis of what gradually became a nationwide system of institutions related to each other partly by government laws and policies. As with other enterprises, waters and irrigation policies never evolved to the point of being able to take into consideration such factors as optimum location of new industries or identification of zones where government action could make development easier or cheaper. By 1911 the Ministry of Development was just beginning to move toward that kind of criterion— toward the adoption of master-planning decisions to indicate locations for major irrigation facilities and subsequent industrial development. But that was for the future. Meantime, the practice during the decades from the 1880s until 1911 was for private enterprisers to invest how and where they wished. Government would then try to follow along as best it might to encourage operations at those sites. One may guess that, had they been asked, the president and his advisers would have said they were doing all they could both to expand existing industries and to encourage new ones—that they wished for as much expansion and development as they could arrange for, and as quickly as possible. So the question whether this regime did more to intensify existing economic patterns or more to advance diversification by bringing new elements into the economy is answerable by research in economic history. It is probably not to be answered, however, as representing a conscious process of choices in favor of one or the other approach to economic change on the part of Mexico's government. It is worth noting, nonetheless, that in some cases where resources were already seen to be limited, approaching total commitment, or fully utilized, conscious decisions were made. Thus, unlike the many decisions in banking, mining, land policy, or petroleum and other energy supplies, water management was the focus of policy in which the question of allocating scarce resources first arose. The question, indeed, had to do both with competing uses and with competing entrepreneurs. The regime settled upon a list of priorities for water use, and it acted with great determination and strength in trying to obtain cooperation or simple obedience to its policy decisions. As it happened, the kind of policymaking involved in river management was much more demanding than many earlier decisions awarding monopoly privileges or contracts for railroad routes or port works. In making preferential policies of this kind the efforts of the federal government were informed by the long history of settling similar questions

224

Conclusion

within the Federal District, a zone that had always been the central government's to manage. Here were found the earliest cases in which the government faced complex policy needs more or less simultaneously. Decisions had to be made for farming, industries, and power generation as well as for local transportation and other semimunicipal or urban services. No doubt the experience gained by government administrators first in the Federal District and later in river management elsewhere was one of the invaluable bequests of this regime to post-Revolutionary Mexico. Among the most obvious contradictions throughout the latter years of Porfirio Diaz's presidency was the tension between public and private domination in the making of economic decisions. The public role grew rapidly and was most pronounced at the very end, when the banking industry was being regulated on a day-to-day basis; when mining activities were closely controlled and arrangements for the petroleum industry were being considered; when most of the railroad mileage was operated by the national government; and when President Diaz could say to James Creelman that "I want to see education throughout the republic carried on by the national government." 6 The question arises, therefore, as to just how far the tendency toward public control had gone by the time this presidency ended. The answer seems to be that the trend continued past this time and might very soon thereafter have engaged the central government in ownership and management of irrigation facilities involving whole river basins. A related question, then, is whether or not we see, by 1911, a tendency that later became so prominent and gave such a pronounced "mixed" aspect to Mexico's economy: namely, the inclination for public and private initiative and power to become so intermingled in the same endeavors as to make it difficult to label the economy as either "capitalist" or "socialist." As we have seen, the ambitious development of communications facilities—railroads, telegraph lines, and port works—was from the first accompanied by strong concern and oversight by the central government. More than that, the government also had some degree of experience with "mixed" management of enterprises. The banking industry may furnish an example, or more than one, given that the government was using one of the private institutions in ways that began to approach the operations of a central bank. And in the structure and functioning of the rediscount bank, the Caja de Préstamos para Obras de Irrigación y Agricultura, S.A., one can see a thorough blending of private initiative with the roles of at least two different government agencies. Of course, these were mere beginnings, and the "mixed" nature of so many Mexican enterprises, and of the Mexican economy in general, would be a creation of the generations yet to come, starting in the early or middle 1920s.

Conclusion

225

In river management and water policies one also finds, by 1911, that the government had passed far beyond the mere monitoring of the use of water by private owners. The government now made decisions, for instance, through the Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas, which controlled the dayto-day and seasonal use of water in agriculture, industries, and urban usages as only management can control such matters. Likewise, the government now used the totality of available scientific and technical data about a river system. Such facts yielded criteria for deciding which applicants should receive the privilege of using the water resource. And in making these decisions the government was beginning to act not simply as mediator in property conflicts or as routine record keeper—it was, in fact, shaping economic activity anywhere in the country. All of this forecast a resumption of strong policymaking which would come during the 1920s. At that time the regimes of Alvaro Obregón and Plutarco Elias Calles would gradually feel secure enough to take a firm hand regarding the ownership and use of Mexico's basic resources and the direction to be followed by economic production. It is clear that the government did manipulate private interests more forcefully after the 1870s. The question may be asked, then, why Porfirio Diaz's regime gave so little concern to the nation's dependence upon foreign funding, foreign investment in private enterprise, and the rise and fall of world prices. All of these processes strongly affected Mexico's chances of importing and exporting goods. And all of them had a fundamental influence on the freedom of action of any president in Mexico. The most obvious answer that can be given to this question is that, proceeding as he was, Diaz could not possibly have avoided an increasing measure of dependence. No combination of policies could have changed that picture so long as the regime chose to borrow more and more money abroad rather than alter taxing policies at home; so long as Mexico encouraged the sale of raw materials abroad while importing more costly manufactured items as well as some materials; so long as Mexico could not or would not build its own merchant marine; and so long as the agricultural sector could not produce enough food or fiber. Furthermore, until Mexico ceased to encourage foreign investment, allowing the export of profits, dependence would likely bear heavily on the nation's economic and fiscal situation. If the shift from bimetallism to the gold standard proved to involve still further loss of substance abroad, that too seems to have been acceptable so long as Mexico's domestic wealth continued to increase. It is notable, nonetheless, that Porfirio Diaz's government acted more and more forcefully to reduce both the dependence on foreign decisions and the loss of substance to foreign accounts. This the president was willing to do insofar as possible, as long as foreigners were not discouraged from

226

Conclusion

investing in the country. In this sense the Diaz presidency foreshadowed what was to come. Unable to escape an increasing degree of economic dependence, the government's policies aimed more and more clearly at limiting the power of foreigners and at blunting the influence of foreign governments as well. This effort to hold Mexican decision making within the country found expression in many ways. An obvious example is seen in those clauses inserted into concessions which bound the concessionaires to act as Mexicans in accord with Mexican law, without the right to call upon their own home governments to intervene in their support. The attempt by Minister Olegario Molina to strengthen the Mining Code of 1909 against some measures of foreign participation gives another indication of the economic nationalism increasingly practiced by the regime during its final years. In addition, the attitude of Secretary Jose Limantour, himself a part-owner of mines, in doing his best to limit North Americans' increasing stake in that industry is yet another of the many examples of a sharpening policy in the years just before 1911. We have seen how, if not very clearly why, the federal government so strongly resisted the combined attempts of one foreign-owned corporation and two foreign governments to override the Mexican water laws. To the end of the Diaz administration, there was no tendency to give way in the face of severe pressure to confirm the "rights" of the Tlahualilo Company. Both the interim regime that succeeded President Diaz and the short presidential administration of Francisco Madero held firm on this issue. Indeed, the Mexican government continued to be unresponsive in this case despite its recognition of the high value placed on settling the matter by the U.S. government. This merely reminds us that Mexicans at least since Benito Juarez's time, and likely before that, had held high the ideal of an independent nation: rich, yes, and with its people schooled and civilized, also yes—but also free of foreign domination. It should not be surprising, therefore, that as Porfirio Diaz's power grew—in the sense of security at home, solid standing abroad, a larger budget, and a personal sense of achievement—this president was willing to grasp at other objectives, such as the goal of independence which Liberals had always held dear. In his later years too Diaz turned toward at least one other such "deferred" objective, that one being universal public education. To both of these ideals Diaz gave increasing attention and effort toward the end of his presidency. But, of course, the attempts to fight free of foreign influences were continually canceled and weakened in his time by his own accompanying efforts to lodge foreign investors in every sector of the national economy, and by his policy of borrowing abroad to keep the government's budget up to the increasing level of government activities.

Conclusion

221

The contradictions involved in this dual policy increased toward the end of the regime. Mexico's financial and economic conditions deteriorated in so many respects during the early 1900s that there seemed to be ever greater need for foreign loan funds and for foreign investment to uphold and invigorate the economy. And there were more and more connections between influential Mexicans and rich foreigners. So, while the federal government's policies tended to emphasize economic nationalism, the advocates of foreign private enterprise were, at the same time, better placed to forestall or neutralize any attempts to pull Mexico free from a growing situation of dependence. Another matter worth looking at is whether or not the Diaz policies for economic development had the result of broadening the Mexican elites and other groups of influential people with access to the highest level of government. Was there a more numerous and more complex array of influentials at the end of the regime? Of course, the simple answer is that, at the end, Porfirio Díaz was granting access to a much greater number as well as a broader range of persons and corporations. But what that simple answer may convey when seen in closer focus—in any one industry, state of Mexico, or social gradation among the influentials—is by no means clear. It would, in fact, be an absorbing study to try to discover who all the people were who spoke with weight during the final years of the regime, when so many interests were coming into conflict and when so many new policies and problems were being taken in hand. The traditional view is that most of Diaz's closest advisers had increasing personal stakes in the economy, and steadily more so as the years went by. Such a key adviser as Treasury Secretary Limantour was deeply interested in Mexican mining companies. Enrique Creel of the state of Chihuahua, who also occupied high positions during the last years of the regime, was increasingly involved in banking and a number of other industries. Further, one of the most interesting and prominent examples of the newer persons of influence at the end of the Diaz presidency was Olegario Molina of Yucatán, 7 who served as governor there and then as minister of development in the federal service. His own relationships and actions do not on the surface seem to conform to any one pattern. An important producer of henequen, he had become the agent of the International Harvester Company and thereby a driving influence in that corporation's monopolistic manipulation of Mexican henequen growers. He was also the key figure in a family whose members he seems to have aided to obtain extensive wealth and power in their home state. In the final years of the Diaz regime, however, no member of the cabinet could have acted more firmly or been more persistent than Molina in trying to block specific foreign influences in some aspects of mining as well as

228

Conclusion

in the famous case of the Tlahualilo Company's role in the cotton industry of the Laguna District. It is impossible, indeed, without knowing a great deal more about everything he did to explain or to reconcile all of Molina's different roles and actions in his private and public capacities. Even his role as minister is not yet fully unveiled. A preliminary way of understanding his various actions and the thrust of his personal influence, however, is to regard him as one of those who put a high priority on measures to increase production in any industry. This may have been for him a consistent stand, whether in dealing with henequen, cotton, minerals, staple foods, or any other commodities. He was no friend to any of the attempts to reduce henequen production so as to raise the price. He was also no believer in the Tlahualilo Company, possibly because it was not the strong producer it might have been. And he did encourage the agricultural section of his ministry in a wide variety of measures that seemed to promise higher production in the near future. Whatever may have been Molina's deepest motives or the import of his influence on the president, however, it is clear that in Porfirio Diaz's final year he was surrounded by increasing numbers of just such people: sophisticated, experienced, detèrmined, and with varying influences at the center of government which are by no means well known to us today. At the least, though, we can say that basic contradictions in the policies of the regime were mirrored in the various roles played from time to time by the most influential associates of the president. To have mentioned such outstanding characters as Limantour, Creel, and Molina reminds us that the new persons of influence were not all as rich or socially prominent, nor are they as well remembered today. The many specialists and other professionals at work in the federal government, however, constituted a vigorous new factor in the counsels of state. A small fraction of these people in the expanding bureaucracy made their way upward into circles near the president, one of these being Manuel Marroquin y Rivera, a professional engineer who finally served as minister of development during the last few months and until the last days. Whether they gained the president's ear or not, though, many of the new people in the upper levels of public service had opportunities never available before to make themselves heard and to publish their proposals in the many official periodicals or in the numerous books sponsored by government ministries. As concerns the possibility of collisions among such people within the government, the arraying against each other of groups backing opposed policies, or the growth of some bureaus at the expense of others, I have seen nothing to suggest those and other wearing aspects of mature bureaucratic government. Perhaps the whole enterprise was still too sketchy, and the attitudes of people entering the government too similar, for such

Conclusion

229

serious difficulties to have become common. There were certainly reallocations of responsibility within the Ministry of Development — for example, between the two sections that dealt with agrarian and hydraulic matters. But the slight evidence at hand shows neither friction nor lost effort in relations across those inner ministerial lines. To put this in another way, there was a different orientation between engineers in the waters section, who mainly worked with large corporations, and those in agriculture who were trying to serve the interests of that hoped-for class of yeoman farmers, the owners of middle-sized farms. But these differing orientations did not yet express themselves in opposition to policies made in another section of the ministry. Each section, apparently, was able to endorse all the proposals of the other. Had the Diaz regime continued, one might expect collisions between plans and budget requests to have become serious during a period of fiscal stringency coupled with major efforts to extricate the economy from difficulties and to get on with expansion. The foreseeable budgetary desires were becoming larger, much larger than could be accommodated either by shifting money from one ministry to another or by borrowing abroad. But the regime did end in May of 1911, before such ultimate conflicts of minister against minister could occur. Instead, the irrigation and waters policies were fashioned and elaborated by seemingly cooperative efforts in at least four of the cabinet ministries—Foreign Relations, Development, Treasury, and Communications and Public Works—to say nothing of the president's own efforts and those of the legislators in the congress. What then can be said of these policies, of their degree of success or failure, and of their effect or lack of impact? To be realistic, one should begin by echoing the somewhat dismal judgments of Manuel Vera and Fernando Beltrán y Puga, both of whom had been so deeply involved in the effort. Both engineers had come to feel that the Diaz policies for management of Mexico's water resources had not achieved results. In 1911 the government was still unable to point with assurance to those river basins and sites that should be assigned first priority for intensive development. Moreover, the issue of whether it would be better to give over the exploration and choice of sites to private enterprisers, some of whom were already busy at work in Mexico's only ambitious regional and local developments of water resources, still remained to be settled. Further, the question of whether the government's budgetary potential could actually meet the need for a national hydraulic survey, and for a concurrent national agricultural census, went unanswered as the Diaz presidency ground to a halt in the spring of 1911. For future efforts in river management and waters policy, the Diaz regime had made too few provisions for engineering and agronomic educa-

230

Conclusion

tion. The theoretical need in the short run was for hundreds of well-trained engineers to act as public servants and to enter private employ permanently or as consultants. The Diaz regime had been trying to meet this need by expanding and elaborating curricula and facilities in higher education. It had also given some attention to professional career training in agriculture and its various specialties. But all that was still in its early stages, not yet closely managed or actively pursued. Nor was it clear whether there really was a strong demand for engineering services. Nobody in government or outside it was yet making any precise calculations of the demand for various kinds of professional services. Nor was it clear how many young Mexicans would choose the careers involved most closely with agricultural production—agronomist, hydraulic engineer, civil engineer, and topographer. One is reminded that in countries of incipient and rapid economic development, and as yet lacking a thoroughgoing national education system, grievous overproduction or underproduction of technological expertise may occur. Mexico in later years did suffer from this kind of "swing" between undersupply and oversupply of technicians and scientists. As for the last years of Diaz's presidency, it may be that the government was not yet fully cognizant of these considerations. At any rate, the graduation rate of engineers with the needed specializations was still very low. On the more favorable side, the Diaz policies ended by bringing into existence some small but highly motivated nuclei of planners, administrators, and field engineers. Their work was important in its time, probably much more so than their professional successors would recognize today. Above all, the Diaz policies helped to bring about a keen awareness within government bureaus of the grim problems afflicting the country's rural population. Here was an intensification of an earlier Mexican tradition of studying problems not only in theory and from office files but also by inspection close at hand. The expansion of the Diaz bureaucracy was so accomplished as to stress rather than reduce the practical component in policy considerations. Inspectors and observers were sent generally around the country. These outsiders were encouraged to make frank reports of what they saw, no matter how unvarnished those accounts might prove to be. The importance, at the time, of this aspect of the roles of the Ministries of Development and of Communications and Public Works can hardly be overstated. The central government could quite justifiably have confined its attention within the Federal District, where so many problems existed so close at hand. The work within the district could have monopolized available funds and expertise, because so many needy people were dependent upon solution of those problems, and because so many influential Mexicans would also have suffered and complained as long as these nearby

Conclusion

231

problems went unresolved. Although President Diaz did spend too much money and time on public works and beautification in the Federal District, however, a firm practice of surveying problems far from Mexico City was also established. That habit was strong long before 1911, and it would be continued by future Mexican regimes, which would also carry on the practice of attending closely to problems near at hand. What is surprising is how very late in the day it was before the president recognized that agriculture everywhere in the country had fallen far behind the performance of other economic sectors. He doubtless had no idea how hard it was to maintain, let alone increase, production on smaller farms, ranchos, and some haciendas that were not yet efficiently organized. About 1908 the central government began to take specific steps designed to help small farmers. But as might be expected, these first steps were mere legal provisions to guide future action. This reminds us that the irrigation policies never took into account what is known as "small irrigation," tiny projects to benefit a few little farm plots thrust up against the back of some dry wash. Thus, the whole question of balance between large and small irrigation projects was not even raised. It would come to light only in the late 1920s, when the enterprise of irrigation began to take on momentum. By that time, though, the bias toward large projects, already so clear before 1911, would constitute a real problem in arriving at a rational division of effort among works of very different scale. Likewise, with his attention fixed on large factories, supply of water to urban centers, large-scale commercial agriculture, and the fine new hydroelectric projects, President Diaz had thoroughly dampened and smothered a long-standing ideal—that hope for a sturdy and independent yeoman farmer class that could furnish an important part of agricultural production while forming the basis for Mexico's democratic life. It may be that the president lost sight of that ideal altogether. Certainly the middling sort of farmer was not served by the legal and administrative structure erected after 1876 to bring about agricultural modernization. This may have been the greatest of all failures of President Diaz's agrarian policies—his having left all the hard work of building Mexican smallmarket agriculture to those who came after him. Another aspect of this same neglect, the leaving of the small-marketing and medium-scale farmers out of effective policies, is seen in the lack of a network of all-weather neighborhood roads to connect smaller population centers with regional markets and railhead towns. At the beginning of his time in power Diaz had known this transportation network to be necessary, but he did little or nothing about it. This too became a program that had to await the end of the civil war and the coming of new policymakers in the 1920s and 1930s. So, if the policies for irrigation and water resources were made neither

232

Conclusion

with subsistence farmers in mind nor for the smaller-market-orientated farmer, what did the president's policies achieve for the larger operators at which they aimed? Briefly stated, water policies before 1911 were the early stage of what became the major policies of the Mexican government beginning in 1926. Since then the intention has been to encourage very large private enterprises, going hand in hand with correspondingly large public efforts, to exploit the most sizable water potentials anywhere in Mexico for agricultural and industrial purposes. And from the beginnings before 1911, the efforts have always been notably pragmatic, as was necessary at first when so little basic information was available upon which to base the important decisions. Moreover, whether before 1911 or since 1926, the assumption has been that the larger, more modern, more "efficient" operations will produce the bulk of agricultural produce needed for export, in industrial production, and to feed the people of the country. Of course, there are significant differences between the Diaz approach to this major policy field and the infinitely more expanded and proliferated policies of recent times. In Diaz's generation it was not only an article of belief but a practical necessity to allow the private enterpriser to pick his own zone for investment and development. He was also the one to select the various kinds of exploitation to be involved at the site. Nowadays, though, the government has long since moved into a commanding position and participates in or dominates all such choices. Nevertheless, the Diaz presidency was moving as quickly as it could toward the situation we see today: very large private investments with close control by the government, heavy infrastructure investments in the most productive zones, and a degree of ownership and production management by government. In order to go in just those directions, President Diaz tried to take two major steps simultaneously. One was to encourage private investment in the countryside as quickly as possible by furnishing as much help and support as could be offered. This was done by revising laws, sending government inspectors to ease the relationships among private owners, gathering useful information, and offering consistent administrative procedures that would lead to firm property titles. There was even the one attempt to make credit available to large agriculturists through the special rediscount bank established in 1908. The other step taken by Porfirio Díaz was to greatly increase the government's legal authority in water and irrigation matters, and to build an efficient bureaucratic structure to wield that authority in the interest of rapid economic development. This was to be done as fast as possible and with the least loss of the invaluable water resource and the least difficulty occasioned by lengthy or wasteful conflicts among entrepreneurs. All the efforts growing from these two basic policies continued vigorously despite the increasing economic and fiscal difficulties after about 1900.

Conclusion

233

These policies proved to be durable, continuing in a muted way during the Revolutionary warfare and regaining momentum after about 1916. Many of the trained bureaucrats and field engineers, such as Fernando Beltrán y Puga, continued in service, while others, like the field engineer Manuel López Moctezuma, returned to their places at higher levels of responsibility. Much younger people who were engineering students during the early Revolutionary years, like Marte Gómez, grew up in the atmosphere of belief and mission which was so strong among those who had been instrumental in working out the Diaz policies of controlling rivers, studying hydraulic potentials, and giving aid and comfort to large enterprises undertaking difficult new operations. And the Diaz administration left behind it all the useful accumulation of laws, regulations, and procedures which would so well serve the state capitalist and private capitalist advances beginning in the mid-1920s. The question remains, though, how useful was all that accumulation of effort, all those years of work in trying to establish the facts concerning Mexico's ill-distributed and unbalanced pattern of water resources? How much was known by 1911 when the Diaz presidency came to an end? First of all, an indelible lesson had been learned about the need to inspect the facts at the site and to keep good records in the home office. After many hopeless searches in which they failed to find records they knew to be "somewhere" among all the papers, administrators learned to keep their papers in good order. They also discovered how necessary it was to send someone to do complete reconnaissance of the whole zone involved in any project. The expectation that local people would be able to tell the government engineers much of what they needed to know—local climatic variations, amounts of river flow, elevations of the surrounding topography, coefficients of water use for various crops—proved illusory. So the administrators and engineers developed good habits of close field study and careful record keeping. Thereby, they began to gain control of the facts regarding some of the river systems as well as some of the local economies. In this regard, however, the field and office people were hampered by lack of complete or competent maps. For such reasons the Comisión Geográfico-Exploradora had been charged with mapping the whole country bit by bit, a task not nearly complete by 1911. Even so, at that stage the work often consisted merely of a party moving across a given district, establishing its track accurately as it went and fairing in the surrounding features of landscape along the way. Such mapping, though, was not useful for detailed study of stream courses, properties, or irrigation facilities, unless the party had happened to move directly up a river course, which it usually did not do. So there were limitations on what the irrigation people

234

Conclusion

could do to plan a regional survey in advance, since a considerable part of the effort during their field surveys had to go into preparing useful maps. Eventually, though, all of this would become highly professional and intensive, beginning in the 1920s. The field engineers also had to begin without the useful recent history of river courses or rainfall, and without knowledge of soils or geologic structures. Rainfall figures were being collected here and there, but usually at some city or town too far from the course of the river and especially far from the headwaters regions. During the later years attempts were made to establish stations for specific use in river basin and lake surveys. But the number of these was small, nothing like a national system of rainfall observation for irrigation purposes. So also with the collection of other necessary information such as changing lake levels, stream flows at various points, and other important data. A few stations were set up, but precious few. What all this means is that the engineers and planners were always in the position of guessing at the year-to-year magnitudes of water supply. They did not have the fifty to sixty years of past records that would have been so useful in making decisions about water allocations or about the advisability of complex operations intending to bring in irrigation and hydroelectric power. Much other basic information was missing from the pictures into which the engineers peered so intently to detect the best future uses for land and water. Just as the natural history of each locality was something of a mystery, so also the history of human habitation and exploitation of land was known only vaguely—too indistinctly for the urgent needs of highly technical decision making. The engineers chafed at such uncertainties. As we have seen, they wanted to reach beyond their appointed role as students of the basic facts of river flow and water uses. They badly wanted to know the full agricultural potential of any river basin and to be able to say with assurance which of the properties were wasting water, and how much more would therefore be available for award to the more efficient producers or to new entrepreneurs eager to get in. They also wanted to recommend the best possible combinations of crops for each locality. By 1911, however, such close understanding was not yet possible. Just beyond, just out of reach, lay the next big step, which the Mexican government would be able to take not many years later. Then it would be possible to send out geologists, hydraulic engineers, and agronomists, who could make realistic estimates of farm production and market relationships and who, from such information, could speak competently of optimum choice of crops. At that stage the government would begin to open up the next set of agricultural problems, which would include such tough propositions as trying to persuade farmers to give up one crop for another. Although the Diaz regime came close to beginning such full and compe-

Conclusion

235

tent local surveys, with such ends in mind, there was still a narrow but uncrossable gap lying between what was coming into view by 1911 and what could be done about it. There may have been barely enough agronomists and other engineers to make up small teams for work in river basins of modest size; but there were definitely not quite enough such people free to do that kind of survey. Instead, those people were spending their time back in the office, reading and assessing the new paperwork that came in an increasing stream. Or, to put this in another way, not enough engineers yet commanded all the different aspects of the work to be able to operate alone. That would come, but years later. The first such reports I have seen, competent and lively in all regards, date from 1927, from the work of such a fine field engineer as Antonio Rodriguez Langone—and in later years, by such a person as Jorge L. Tamayo. Before 1911 the government's engineers and administrators had not been trained as builders of large facilities—dams, aqueducts, power stations. They knew the calculations, and they were aware of recent methods and practices in the western United States, where so many of Mexico's water problems were seen in reflection. But the whole enterprise of heavy construction lay beyond the personal experience of these Mexican engineers. Not until the late 1920s would Mexico provide for training its own dam builders. So the field surveys before 1911 amounted to a series of simple reconnaissance expeditions. And the locations the engineers visited constituted a scatter pattern determined strictly by earlier decisions of enterprisers, who had undertaken new operations here or there. Only with Manuel Vera's plan for national hydraulic reconnaissance and study did the central government begin to look beyond, to a day when public authorities might already have enough information if some enterpriser should suggest a new project somewhere — almost anywhere—in Mexico. Similarly, the government hoped soon to know enough about the farmlands everywhere in the country so that a new ministry of agriculture would be able to give sound advice in advance. But such steps were not ready by May 1911. Only in the Laguna District did Mexico's government show unmistakably that firmer policies were in store to rationalize agricultural production, provide for needs of cities and towns, and pacify economic relationships among great capitalist enterprises. By 1911 the direction of the government's actions in the Comarca Lagunera was clear enough. To the extent the national budget might permit, and insofar as available technology and expertise would allow, a powerful government would dominate modern commercial agriculture. In this case and in others where government control barely began to assert itself were to be found the new pattern of Liberal policy for agricultural expansion. By 1911 the Liberals' earlier interests had narrowed considerably from

236

Conclusion

the time when they were still concerned with civil liberty and still thought of the poverty of millions of country people. Their emphasis, indeed, had long since gone over to pacification, to growth, and to material progress, to be sought through the use of resources by the most effective of larger enterprises. It was in the Laguna District where the daily practice of this other kind of Liberalism, developed in Porfirio Diaz's time, was most evident. The poor people were apparently not important instruments in increasing the nation's wealth. If this meant more concentration of land, water, and financial assets in the hands of the largest Mexican and foreign investors, so be it. If natural resources had to be assigned increasingly to large corporations, let it be so. If this, in turn, would increasingly signify ownership of Mexico's wealth by foreigners, then so be it too. If the future should be one of preference for projects that promised higher production and higher profit rather than the creation of many more jobs with higher wages, that's the way it would be. The government would go forward hand in hand with the potent capitalist for the peace, prosperity, and increasing wealth of Mexico. In the further future still lay other objectives not so clearly seen and less urgent: dignity and well-being for all Mexicans, the civilizing life and culture of a great nation, perhaps even a milieu of democratic politics. But in the foreground were the terrible hunger, the shrinking basis for bare survival, the pervasive shortage of jobs, the enslavement of people on the land, the widespread illnesses and the lash of epidemic disease, the cruelty, and the oppression, all of which had afflicted so many people long before that final spring of 1911. Even against this macabre background, and despite the rulers' increasing awareness of the hopelessness of life in the countryside, the president's policies for water use and for farmlands irrigation seemed practical and reasonable. These were two among many sets of activities that lent confidence and strength to capitalist enterprise. Even in the face of discouragingly low agricultural production, with the consequent expense of importing food, the leaders of the regime were not shaken in their conviction that their policies were best. In an atmosphere of rural disaster, their reaction was to intensify existing policies, as if these could serve emergency purposes as well as those long-range objectives for which they had been designed. Assuming there had been no revolution in the spring of 1911, there were in any case some limitations that would have restrained the current policies from showing widespread or impressive effects. The engineering profession was still too small, and too thin in agrarian specialists, to supply enough skilled people for any major efforts up to 1911. This is another way of

Conclusion

237

saying that there were not enough new agricultural entrepreneurs appearing in Mexico—not enough to create pressing demands for enhanced government efforts and for a vast increase in rural technological expertise. This is the other face of the fact that the government's policies were intended to be of the incremental kind that require decades to apply and then to adjust. Such policies could not be of use in the economic and political emergency that grew so steadily and unexpectedly in Mexico after 1900. Perhaps we can best picture this first period of policymaking for the water resource as a time of familiarization and reconnaissance. That stage continued haltingly through the fighting phase of the Revolution, from 1910 through 1916, and regained momentum afterward, only to falter once more during the early 1920s. Finally, in 1926, began what Clark Reynolds has thought to call Mexico's "announcement phase" of economic and social reform. President Plutarco Elias Calles would drive through the Waters Law of 1926. He established the National Commission of Irrigation and soon engaged the J. G. White Engineering Company to conduct specific studies and to commence constructing important works. All this was part of Calles's larger program of master-planning and of making strong beginnings in many aspects of the economy. From that time onward the waters and irrigation policies would steadily gain strength, on the way to the vast pattern of facilities with which the government of the republic is still so deeply involved today. There was notable continuity between the stage of "reconnaissance," from the 1880s to 1926, and the "announcement phase," from the late 1920s into the presidency of Lázaro Cárdenas in the 1930s. In both these epochs of hydraulic development the role of foreigners was important, because Mexico needed their funds and their expertise in doing the work with its own people and its own growing store of technical skills. Such temporary shortages neither discouraged nor slowed the efforts to put the country's water resource to best use in building the national economy. The same thrust and tenacity was to be seen in efforts during Porfirio Diaz's day as in the many decades since. For him the accumulation of wealth was the criterion, and it was measured by increased production. Today that same objective is still paramount, and many more are now in view. What is continuous from the Porfiriato to the present day is the determination, the habit of doing what can be done today.

Notes

1.

INTRODUCTION

1. Femando Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo economíco de México de 1877 á 1911," El Trimestre Económico 32 (July-September 1965): 412; Clark W. Reynolds. The Mexican Economy: Twentieth-Century Structure and Growth (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1970), pp. 16-17; and Laura Randall, A Comparative Economic History of Latin America 15001914, vol. 1: Mexico (Ann Arbor: University Microfilms International, 1977), p. 151. Much of the information just below in the text is drawn from Randall, pp. 149-160. 2. Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," pp. 406-407. 3. Randall, Mexico, pp. 154, 158. 4. Ibid., pp. 149, 151. See Ramón E. Ruiz, The Great Rebellion. Mexico, 1905-1924 (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1980), chap. 6, on various aspects of the agrarian problem. 5. John H. Coatsworth, "Obstacles to Economic Growth in Nineteenth-Century Mexico," American Historical Review 83 (February 1978): 91, 92 ff. 6. Randall, Mexico, p. 153. 7. Ibid., pp. 153-155. 8. Ibid., pp. 154-155; Coatsworth, Growth Against Development: The Economic Impact of Railroads in Porfirian Mexico (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1981), pp. 152153. 9. The premises were that population was too thin whereas land was abundant, fertile, and often idle. Some felt that communications (i.e., railroads) had to precede any realistic colonization policy: see Moisés González Navarro, La colonización en México 1877-1910 (Mexico, 1960), p. 1. 10. Dawn Keremitsis, La industria textil mexicana en el siglo xix (Mexico: SepSetentas, 1973). 11. Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," pp. 412-413. 12. Randall, Mexico, p. 157. 13. Ibid., p. 159. The general opinion is that the Juárez and Lerdo presidencies saw little or no economic gain against the prevailing problems. See Richard N. Sinkin, The Mexican Reform, 1855-1876: A Study m Liberal Nation-Building (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1979); Paul J. Vanderwood, Disorder and Progress: Bandits, Police, and Mexican Development (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1981), p. 64; and Coatsworth, Growth Against Development, p. 1. 14. See Charles A. Hale, Mexican Liberalism m the Age of Mora, 1821-1853 (New Haven:

239

240

Notes to Pages 4-11

Yale University Press, 1968), especially pp. 298-304, for his singling out of shifts in Liberal beliefs, with identification of their origins. 15. Raymond Vernon, The Dilemma of Mexico's Development: The Roles of the Private and Public Sectors (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1965), pp. 34-35. 16. Sinkin, The Mexican Reform, p. 176, and Vanderwood, Disorder and Progress, pp. 39-40. 17. Vernon, Dilemma, pp. 34-35. 18. Roger D. Hansen, The Politics of Mexican Development (Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1971), pp. 12-13. 19. Hansen, Politics, p. 13. 20. Randall, Mexico, p. 160. 21. For brief and telling analyses of Diaz's methods of dominating the unorganized national political scene, see Vanderwood, Disorder and Progress, pp. 63, 83-88, and Laurens B. Perry, Juárez and Diaz: Machine Politics in Mexico (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1978), pp. 341, 346-349. 22. Vernon, Dilemma, pp. 43-44, counts this as one of three most important developments stemming from foreign investment in Diaz's times (the others having been railroad investments and buying of government bonds, and export-orientated businesses such as mining). He points out that "the role of immigrants in starting up industrial plants.. . was extraordinarily important." Coatsworth's careful analyses in Growth Against Development, pp. 180185, indicate to him that railroads fortified the regime by early reduction of unemployment and underemployment (of manpower and resources), selectively benefited many private interests, stimulated foreign investment, were very important in the Diaz policies of concentrating landholding, and stimulated some exports and the early import-substitution industry (textiles), but otherwise contributed little stimulation to industrial development. He feels the railroads had significant impact on political development by calling forth a national elite and political bureaucrats needed to cope with such large projects and enterprises. 23. Coatsworth, Growth Against Development, pp. 176, 184, 186. Vernon, Dilemma, pp. 34-35, states that President Juárez had provided in the first railroad concession that the government had the right to appoint a minority of the company's board of directors; and Juarez's government bought stock in the company as well. 24. See Don M. Coerver, The Poifirian Interregnum: The Presidency of Manuel González of Mexico, 1880 1884 (Fort Worth: Texas Christian University Press, 1979); Coatsworth, Growth Against Development, pp. 20-24, 35; and Vanderwood, Disorder and Progress, pp. 72-73, discussing Gonzalez's forward steps in the government's economic policies and achievements. 25. See González Navarro, La colonización, pp. 28-36, for the discouragingly small numbers up to 1910. 26. Randall, Mexico, pp. 167-168. The law of May 30, 1895 declared an end to these imposts (as of July 1, 1896). These alcabalas were outlawed in the Constitution of 1857, but their importance to states' revenues had delayed their elimination. Even into our own time, one form or another of informal extortion tends to perpetuate costs incident to domestic trade. 27. Randall, Mexico, pp. 174-175, showing how difficult it was for the central government to make monetary policy while minting was still in private hands, on the terms that applied. 28. See David M. Pletcher, "The Fall of Silver in Mexico, 1870-1910, and Its Effect on American Investments, "Journal of Economic History 18 (Spring 1958): 33-55, for the broad view of effects of a gradual decline in world silver price and thus in the price of Mexico's silver peso during the period of Mexico's bimetallic policy up to 1905. He characterizes the effects on Mexico as "depreciation, inflation, and uncertainty" during the short swings of value. 29. Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," p. 430. 30. Randall, Mexico, p. 190. Stated more broadly by Vanderwood, Disorder and Progress, p. 63, from about 1867 to about 1887 "Mexico edged toward integration, toward political centralism and a national market," meeting with "great resistance" all along the way. 31. Pletcher, "The Fall of Silver," pp. 46-52, and Coerver, Porfirian Interregnum, pp. 255-264.

Notes to Pages 11-16

241

32. Coerver, Porfirian Interregnum, p. 199. Port improvements were authorized both on the Gulf and Pacific coasts, along this same line of policy. The customs-tax reductions referred to above would apply only to "Mexican-flag" carriers. 33. Vernon, Dilemma, pp. 45-46; Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," pp. 429-430; and Sanford A. Mosk, Industrial Revolution in Mexico (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1950), in whose account these new industries are seen (from the viewpoint of the 1930s) as the traditional ones. 34. See Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," pp. 435, who comments on this phenomenon as still true at the end of the regime (by which time there was foreign capital in some northern cattle estates and in cotton, hule [guayule], sugar, and coffee plantations, most established after 1900). See Ruiz, Great Rebellion, p. 104, to the same effect but also showing that toward the end of the regime great amounts of land were bought by United States citizens. 35. Contrast these approaches with the similar but fewer and milder means used by President Juárez (including numbers 2 and 5 in the above list): Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," p. 431. See Coerver, Porfirian Interregnum, p. 193, on the shift in strength, breadth, and emphasis even during President Gonzalez's time in the central government's perceived role in economic affairs. 36. Jan Bazant, Historia de la deuda exterior de México 1823-1946 (Mexico: El Colegio de México, 1968), pp 120-132. The consolidation of the debt was worked out in 1885-1886 with Manuel Dublán as secretary of the treasury. 37. See Vanderwood, Disorder and Progress, who carefully demonstrates the uses of "order" and "disorder" in Diaz's system of army and police operations. 38. Randall, Mexico, p. 165; H. N. Branch, "Concessions: a Brief Analysis," The Mexican Year Book... 1922-1924, ed. Robert G. Cleland (Los Angeles: Mexican Year-Book Publishing Company, 1924), pp. 200-215; and especially Coerver, Porfirian Interregnum, pp. 202207, discussing the laws of June 1, 1880 and December 16, 1881, and the reglamento for the latter passed July 1, 1883. The results were to place government representatives on the companies' boards of directors; to provide for expropriation by the government in "the interest of public utility"; and to make the Ministry of Development's control over railroad operations very strong. 39. Rodney D. Anderson, Outcasts in Their Own Land: Mexican Industrial Workers, 1906-1911 (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1976), p. 19. 40. Anderson, Outcasts, p. 19, and Marvin M. Bernstein, The Mexican Mining Industry, 1890-1950: A Study of the Interaction of Politics, Economics, and Technology (Albany: State University of New York, 1964), p. 19. Bernstein states that the Mining Code of 1884 and the Mine Tax Law of 1887 "set Mexico well on her way to a laissez faire mining policy." Anderson here refers also to "abdication of the traditional national ownership of subsoil rights in favor of private ownership, the lowering of mineral taxes, and various tax exemptions given to a number of industries—all.. . designed to encourage foreign and domestic investment." 41. Coerver, Porfirian Interregnum, pp. 227-229, shows how closely the government regulated and controlled the banking industry by provisions of the commercial code which took effect June 20, 1884. Among other things the states were henceforward forbidden to charter banks. 42. Pletcher, Rails, Mines, and Progress: Seven American Promoters in Mexico, 1867-1911 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1958), pp. 10-12. He points out that after 1884 the regime rested on "a solid foundation of ruthless terrorism," and that this signified that the Liberals' earlier interest in guarantees of personal freedom and civil rights was being set aside, not to be revived in Diaz's later years. As far as I can tell, those Liberals who had advocated civil rights now simply stopped talking about that if they intended to keep any important places in the Diaz regime. 43. Vemon, Dilemma, pp. 48-49. 44. Ibid., p. 38. One can of course state a number of brief summary formulas of the Diaz influence in politics. Amaldo Cordova puts it that the "true intentions" of the regime were to "impose peace" (presumably meaning by "peace" an absence of public conflict) and to "promote legitimate [property] interests," meaning to "develop wealth": see La ideología de la revolución mexicana. La formación del nuevo orden (Mexico: Ediciones Era, 1973), p. 39.

242

Notes to Pages 16-21

Vanderwood, Disorder and Progress, p. 84, stresses the institutional chaos that "characterized the Porfirian system" and that Vanderwood sees as militating against the appearance of any step-by-step bureaucratic planning. 45. This is not to say that national awareness was not growing. It was, as seen in writings of such figures as Justo Sierra. 46. As stated by Friedrich Katz, Devtschland, Diaz, und die Mexikanische Revolution. Die Deutsche Politik in Mexiko 1870-1920 (Berlin: Deutscher Verlag der Wissenschaften, 1964), p. 39. 47. Vanderwood, Disorder and Progress, pp. 87-88. 48. W. Dirk Raat, "Ideas and Society in Don Porfirio's Mexico," The Americas 30 (July 1973): 32-53. All of Raat's articles are pertinent in analyzing what he shows to have been a most complex pattern of different focuses of thought. For his definition of the new bourgeoisie, quoted above, Raat relies upon Moïses González Navarro, El Porfiriato. Vida Social, Historial Moderna de Mexico, vol. 4, ed. Daniel Cosío Villegas (Mexico: Editorial Hermes, 1957), pp. 387-393. 49. Raat, "Ideas and Society," pp. 46-47. The article also contains a serious interpretation of the coming of the Mexican Revolution based upon such propositions as that "the dislocation of rapid economic development produced a conflict which eventually led to a breakdown of the old regime" (p. 39). 50. Raat, "Ideas and Society," pp. 46-47. 51. Ibid., p. 48. 52. Ibid. Here Raat is at some pains to point out differences between these would-be reformers and evolutionists on the one hand and the Mexican positivists on the other. The positivists were developing a secular religion of humanity and were going a somewhat different way from that of the científicos, who received this name from their political enemies and who were influential advisers of the president but never a sociopolitical group, never clearly identifiable from among other members of the inner circles near the president. See Jacqueline Ann Rice, "The Porfirian Political Elite: Life Patterns of the Delegates to the 1892 Union Liberal Convention" (Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Los Angeles, 1979), pp. 1-2: "It is impossible to identify the Científicos.... Since the term lacks objective context and those to whom it was vaguely applied never accepted the identification, there is in the strict sense no such thing as a Científico group, unless one arbitrarily redefines it." Having looked foT signs of a clique comprising the-nine men often identified as científicos, Rice found nothing by way of significant facts beyond "the obvious and well-known ones of having participated in the same regime at the same time and having done some joint publication" (pp. 218-219). 53. Raat, "Ideas and Society," p. 52. 54. Vernon, Dilemma, p. 56, stresses that some of the constructive results were intended, and some were "unintended and unexpected" outcomes of President Diaz's policies. See also Keremitsis, La industria textil, pp. 99-100. 55. See Friedrich Katz, The Secret War in Mexico: Europe, the United States, and the Mexican Revolution (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1981), pp. 3-4, on the tendency for integration into the world market to result in "strengthening the central power of the state" in Mexico as elsewhere in Latin America at the time. 56. Katz, The Secret War, pp. 25-26, and Pletcher, "The Fall of Silver," p. 34, who says that some railroads' financial structures had become so "wobbly" that Mexican leaders feared E. H. Harriman or some other U.S. operator would "swallow" these lines and produce a North American monopoly of Mexican railroad operations. 57. Randall, Mexico, pp. 166-167, one of several who take a favorable view of the conservative style of railroad location (so unlike the "speculative" building that occurred in Argentina, Brazil, and elsewhere) and who brings out the fact that the railroads' influence in the economy had been steadily positive, as evidenced by a volume of railroad operations just before the Revolution which would permit good earnings and dividend payments. See Coatsworth, Growth Against Development, pp. 45-46, 143. 58. Randall, Mexico, pp. 172-177. 59. Ibid., pp. 179-180. 60. Pletcher, Rails, Mines, and Progress, p. 15. Some, of course, like Olegario Molina,

Notes to Pages 21-27

243

were aged but vigorous. The next to last of Diaz's secretaries of foreign relations was one who, although a reasonably wise and experienced person, had seemingly too little energy to sustain long conversations or steady negotiation. 61. The law of December 15, 1883; the Law of Waters of Federal Jurisdiction, June 5, 1888; and a law regarding "waste" lands enacted March 24,1894. On November 20, 1896, by contrast, the president was authorized by law to cede "national and waste" lands to needy farmers: see Branch, "Concessions," pp. 206-207. 62. Randall, Mexico, p. 162, points out that railroad rates discriminated against traffic within Mexico, and she believes that this fact must relate to the falling per capita food production in later years. As it happens, the discriminatory rates were an economic necessity for the railroad companies, which were not turning profits during that period of time. In addition, Coatsworth shows in "Anotaciones sobre la producción de alimentos durante el porfiriato," Historia Mexicana 26 (October-December 1976): 167-187, that staple food production did not fall per capita but rose at the rate of population increase (until the years 1908-1910, when adverse weather conditions caused a disastrous decline in food production). 63. Randall, Mexico, pp. 182-185. At p. 184 Randall states that the number of ranchos rose from 14,705 (1877) to 48,633 (1910). 64. González Navarro, La colonización, pp. 10-12. See Ruiz, Great Rebellion, pp. 89-90, concerning the land survey operations. 65. Anderson, Outcasts, p. 36; Raat, "Ideas and Society," p. 53; and, mustering the best recent information that samples the data for inflation, wages, and living costs, John M. Hart, Anarchism and the Mexican Working Class, 1860-1931 (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1978), pp. 85-86. 66. Bazant, Deuda exterior, pp. 125-155. John W. Foster, Diplomatic Memoirs, 2 vols. (Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1909), 2.114, speaking of the early 1890s, stated that "the credit of Mexico became equal to that of some of the first powers of Europe and much above that of any other of the Latin American Republics." See Katz, The Secret War, pp. 52-56, for the details concerning Diaz's obtaining foreign loans (in 1888 and thereafter) in different countries so as to avoid domination of Mexico's debt by any one institution or any one nation. 67. Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," p. 428. As in some other cases of developing economies at the time, this meant that much new investment money was in fact Mexican rather than foreign. As has been stated frequently, it seems possible that only about 60 percent of investment by foreigners was coming directly from abroad. 68. Bernstein, Mining Industry, p. 49. The discussion that follows, in the text, is drawn from Bernstein, pp. 36-81. 69. Bernstein, Mining Industry, pp. 43-44. See also pp. 39-40, which count a total of 53 smelters in Mexico by 1905. As for the Northern Mexican Power project, its equipment and facilities were finished in 1915 and power was first marketed in 1921. 70. Reynolds, Mexican Economy, p. 25. He also points out that domestic industry had not become large enough to employ the labor force, whose numbers were still on the rise. Also, industry profits could not yet offset a "gradual drawing off of earnings from the export sector in the form of interest and principal remitted abroad." 71. For a brief discussion see Randall, Mexico, pp. 177-178, and Walter F. McCaleb, Present and Past Banking m Mexico (London and New York: Harper & Brothers, 1920), pp. 157-162. 72. Hansen, Politics, p. 21, notes that receipts on commercial accounts rose 144 percent from 1890 to 1900 but 75 percent from 1900 to 1910. 73. Pletcher, "The Fall of Silver," pp. 52-54, echoed by Bernstein, Mining Industry, p. 30; and Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," p. 425, to the same effect. 74. See Vernon, Dilemma, pp. 51-52, on the weakening position of some haciendas in this regard. 75. Gonzalo Cámara Zavala, Reseña histórica de la industria henequenera de Yucatán (Mérida: Imprenta Oriente, 1936), pp. 35 ff. North Americans had practically monopolized foreign sales by 1873, and later worked through master agents (such as Olegario Molina) in "tying" the sale of steam machinery to the purchase of henequen from those buying the

244

Notes to Pages 27-43

machines—with a discount in favor of the North American side of the exchange. Sales of the crop greatly increased early in the century because of the strong demand for binder twine; and contract labor was brought in particularly after 1900 from Korea and later from Sonora and elsewhere in Mexico. Thus many Yaqui Indians were enslaved in Yucatán. But planting in Java and in Africa led to a more intensive "price war" and tighter monopoly manipulation, gradually reducing the unit price to the disadvantage of many Mexican producers. See also Vemon, Dilemma, pp. 54-55. 76. Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," p. 425. 77. Pletcher, "The Fall of Silver," pp. 53-54, using Walter F. McCaleb's later criticisms of the move to the gold standard—which, although it "worked" in the short run, was not nearly enough in itself, McCaleb thought, to assure "public confidence in Mexican stability" (in the sense that Mexico's image of stability would not thus be assured but would still be vulnerable to the first political shock that might occur). Meantime, poor people in Mexico did not have enough coin (with fractional pieces of gold replacing cheaper silver pieces), and for them, thought McCaleb, any coin was better than no coin at all. See McCaleb, The Public Finances of Mexico (New York and London: Harper & Brothers, 1921), pp. 175-185. 78. Reynolds, Mexican Economy, p. 23. 79. Bernstein, Mining Industry, p. 78, dates the resentment against foreign investment from 1905. In some respects this may have been so, but the economic nationalism of the Diaz regime came in piecemeal fashion and is seen in part at least as early as the 1880s. The underlying feeling for an independent Mexican economic life dates from the Juárez presidency, if not earlier. See Ruiz, Great Rebellion, pp. 106-107, who finds the origin of this feeling in late colonial and early independence times. 80. Bazant, Deuda exterior, pp. 156-164, showing that this very onerous new debt came about partly because of the financial and business downturn in 1907, which found the Mexican government unable to muster the funds to discharge obligations it had undertaken in the purchase of railroad company securities. 81. Even as early as 1902-1904 Secretary Limantour needed two years to arrange one loan, due to a temporary shortage of funds in major banks in England and Europe. From 1907 to 1911 the amounts of new money the government wanted became impossible to find. Ruiz, Great Rebellion, pp. 78-88, 120-121, discusses at length the economic downturn in 1907, and associated disasters. 82. See Gonzalez Navarro, La colonización, pp. 123-124, and Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," pp. 431-443, for clear indications of the diminishing quality of life in rural regions at that time. 83. Rosenzweig, "El desarrollo," p. 405, stating the overarching fact of rising production of many kinds during the Diaz regime, uses the phrase "a stage of economic development, not lacking, however, in profound contradictions." 84. Pletcher, Rails, Mines, and Progress, p. 298. Doheny went on, it seemed, to at least rival the railroads in importance when his became "the largest single American investment in Mexico." 85. In translation, the title of Agustín Yáñez's remarkable novel A l filo del agua. At the time the writer and medical practitioner Mariano Azuela was soon to begin his first literary statement from the events, Andrés Pérez, Maderista. 2. NEW ANALYSES AND SHIFTING

INTERPRETATIONS

1. The four official congresses met in 1903 in Puebla, in 1904 in Michoacán, in 1906 in Guadalajara, and in 1909 in Oaxaca; and there were "agricultural congresses" at Tulancingo in 1904 and 1905 and in Zamora in 1906. Roman Catholic "social weeks" were staged in León in 1908 and in Mexico City in 1910. See González Navarro, El porfiriato, pp. 266-273 and 365-366, and David C. Bailey, ¡Viva Cristo Rey! The Cristero Rebellion and the Church-State Conflict in Mexico (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1974), pp. 16-17. 2. See Raoul Bigot, Notes économiques sur le Méxique (Paris, 1907), pp. 70-71. 3. José Covarrubias, Varios informes sobre tierras y colonización (Mexico: Imprenta de la

Notes to Pages 43-54

245

Secretaría de Fomento, 1912), p. 158. His views are echoed in Economista Mexicano, 1 December 1906, and in later discussions in several other newspapers. See also Andres Molina Enríquez, Proyecto de ley de aguas federales para los Estados Unidos Mexicanos (Mexico: Tipografía de la Sociedad Agrícola Mexicana, 1906), who assumed that irrigation and local roads were essential; but, unlike Covarrubias, he added reforestation as a third essential improvement to be undertaken without delay. 4. Economista Mexicano, 23 April 1910; Lauro Viadas, "Medidas para favorecer el desarrollo agrícola del país. Informe...," Boletín de la Secretaria de Fomento 4 (April 1905): 1603-1647. This report, dated April 24, 1905, was made at the request of Ing. Manuel R. Vera, head of the Fifth Section of the Secretaría de Fomento, Colonización e Industria. 5. Enrique Martínez Sobral, discussion inaugurating the exhibition of agriculture and pastoralism at Guadalajara, September 24, 1910, in Economista Mexicano, 29 October 1910. 6. Observaciones sobre el fomento agrícola considerado como base para la ampliación del crédito agrícola en México (Mexico: Imprenta Lacaud, 1910). No doubt the efforts he assigned to government would have committed much more annual expense than was then available in the whole federal budget. 7. Molina Enríquez, Proyecto de ley. 8. "Dos Problemas de Vital Importancia para México," Economista Mexicano, 15 May 1906. 9. Extracts from his fuller statements are in Economista Mexicano, 28 May 1910 and in El Pats, 14 October 1910 (I have not seen the full reports in The Mexican Herald). Morse also expected to see more agricultural colleges teaching many more students at a practical level of instruction. I do not know whether he recognized how many of his basic recommendations would require great expansion not merely of hacendados' activities and expenses but of the government's as well. 10. Peust, La defensa nacional de México (Mexico: Imprenta Central, 1907); idem, Algo sobre la evolución agrícola; réplica... (Mexico: Tipografía y Litografía de Miiller Hermanos, 1908); and idem, "La estabilidad de las cosechas," El Imparcial, 28 June 1909. See also Louis Lejeune, Au Méxique (Paris: Cerg, 1892); Bigot, Notes économiques; and Percy F. Martin, Mexico of the Twentieth Century, 2 vols., (New York: Dodd, Mead & Co.; London: Edward Arnold, 1907), 2:177 ff., for a description of Braniffs modernization of Hacienda Jalpa. 11. El Pais, 15 September 1906, gives a clear and typical exposition of this viewpoint, which is echoed in whole or in part in many other such statements in books, pamphlets, and journal and newspaper articles of the day. This analysis lent itself well to "spot" newspaper comment dealing with single items, and many Mexicans had some first-hand acquaintance with at least a few aspects of this general view. 12. In El Imparcial, 24 November 1910, part of a series. 13. Genaro Raigosa, La evolución agrícola (Mexico, 1902), pp. 154 ff. 14. Against taxing large holdings, see Economista Mexicano, 1 December 1906, debating the opposing view expressed recently in The Mexican Investor. In favor of taxing large holdings, see Francisco de P. Sen ties, La organización política de México; el partido demócrata (Mexico: Innocencio Arrióla, 1908), p. 29. For exempting new small holdings from tax, see Diario del Hogar, 12 September 1905. For taxing value and income of landholdings—the Guanajuato State system calling for self-evaluation monitored by state officials and by other nearby landowners—see "La propiedad rústica," Boletín de la Secretaría de Fomento 4 (February 1905): 1068-1069, and Fernando González Roa, El aspecto agrario de la revolución mexicana (Mexico: Poder Ejecutivo, Dirección de Talleres Gráficos, 1919), p. 234. 15. In Boletín de la Sociedad Mexicana de Geografía e Estadística (1894): 375-377. 16.Informe to the state legislature for 1903-1906 and 1908-1910 by Governors Luis Garcia M. and Dr. Aznar. 17. Essay in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 4 May 1905. 18. Economista Mexicano, 29 October 1904, commenting favorably upon, and here quoting, an essay from El Tiempo of recent date. 19. Economista Mexicano, 15 January 1906. 20. El Imparcial, 28 June and 12 November 1909, the former issue carrying Otto Peust's

246

Notes to Pages 54-58

explanation of why irrigation had to be the first step in turning the economy around. See El Pats, 8 July 1908, to this same effect. 21. In a study presented to Durango's regional committee of the Alianza Científica Universal, in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 19 June 1910. 22. See Economista Mexicano, 1 December 1906, arguing Covarrubias's case against another newspaper's recommendation for government purchase of hacienda lands for redistribution. El Impaniai, 7 and SO March 1907, also made thorough use of Covarrubias's analysis. After publication of his study of colonization and immigration in various American nations—a study that sought to show why colonists went to some countries in large numbers but to others (of which Mexico was one) only in small numbers—the newspapers again reflected on and discussed his viewpoints; see, for instance, El Impartial, 21 February 1907. 23. El Pais, 26 May 1908. As in this case, it was not always clear whether combined policies —irrigation with something else—were intended mainly to attract Mexican, or foreign, investment into agriculture. 24. Economista Mexicano, 21 January 1905, copying an article from El Peninsular (Mérida, Yucatán), which had commented upon the government's current intention to spend a million pesos in encouraging foreign immigration. 25. Manuel de la Peña's address at the agricultural congress at Tulancingo, in El Pais, 10 October 1905, to the effect that neither farms, nor industries, nor railroads could ever advance further without a great expansion of irrigation. 26. "Dos Problemas de Vital Importancia para Mexico," Economista Mexicano, 5, 12, and 19 May 1906. As will be seen below, Gayol also stipulated the availability of credit for small farmers, which he felt to be essential from the very beginning of any colonization enterprise. See also Economista Mexicano, 9 February 1907, and El Impartial, 4 May 1906, following up Gayol's ideas and combining Gayol's with Covarrubias's viewpoints, to conclude that irrigation always had to precede colonization. 27. A matter-of-fact statement of this proposition, based on the experience of Ing. Pastor Rouaix in engineering and in public affairs, is in his El fraccionamiento de la propiedad en los estados fronterizos [signed June 4, 1911] (Durango: Imprenta del Gobierno, 1911). 28. El Pats, 1 February 1909, was among the first to notice and to remark adversely upon this fact. See also Otto Peust's writing in El Impartial, 28 June 1909, commenting pointedly to the same effect. 29. Economista Mexicano, 18 March 1905; Manuel de la Peña, in El Pais, 10 October 1905, recommending inexpensive earth dams for Oaxaca State's depressed farming zones; Molina Enriquez, Proyecto de ley, p. 18, stipulating the need for much action on a small scale by state governments; Jefe Político of Nombre de Dios, Durango, Carlos Fiscal, in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 2 September 1906; El Impartial, 24 March 1907; and Francisco I. Madero, La sucesión presidencial en 1910. El partido nacional democrático (San Pedro, Coahuila: 1908), p. 224, backing government expenditure for many small irrigation works. See Treasury Secretary José Limantour to Consejo de Administración, Caja de Préstamos, June 25, 1909, in Diario Oficial, 2S August 1909, inquiring how the Caja intended to spread its resources to reach small farmers with credit. As for agronomists: Leopoldo Palacios, £¿ problema, p. 87; Lauro Viadas in Durango, Periodico Oficial, 25 September 1910, and in El Pais, 2 and 24 September 1910; and Francisco Loria in El Impartial, 2 and 24 November 1910. 30. Ing. Roberto Gayol's letter to Carlos Robles, gerente of the Caja de Préstamos, June 29, 1910, in Manuel R. Vera, Organización del servicio federal de la hidráulica agrícola e industrial (Mexico: Imprenta y Fototipia de la Secretaria de Fomento, 1910); Governor Enrique Creel to the legislature, Chihuahua, June 1, 1909, in Chihuahua, Informe, 1909, p. 12; Francisco I. Madero, Estudio de la conveniencia de la construcción de una presa en el Cañón de Fernández para almacenar las aguas del Rio Nazas (San Pedro, Coahuila: Tipografia "Benito Juárez," 1907); editorials by the owner of El Pats, 26 May and 27 June 1908; unsigned article in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 19 March 1905; Manuel de la Peña in Economista Mexicano, 24 November 1906; and Andrés Molina Enriquez's proposed law, Proyecto de ley. 31. Durango, Periodico Oficial, 19 March 1905. 32. Copied in extract in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 12 February 1905. 33. In Economista Mexicano, 26 May, 9, 26, and 30 June, and 14 July, 1906.

Notes to Pages 38-68

247

34. Molina Enríquez, Proyecto de ley; and the owner of El Pais, 27 June 1908, who wanted the profit motive removed from any influence on both preliminary and final stages of work in irrigation projects. 35. Emilio Pérez Vargas, speaking for large owners at the Comisión Agrícola Jalisciense, Guadalajara, April 1908, to Secretary of the Treasury Limantour, in El Pats, 3 May 1908; Otto Peust, Algo sobre la evolución, pp. 49-50 passim; and Enrique Martinez Sobral, Sept. 24, 1910, in Economista Mexicano, 29 October 1910. Pérez Vargas recommended mutual investment agencies for landowners, whether on one European plan or another, such as those of Raiffeisen or Luzzatti. 36. As seen in Gayol's and others' analyses discussed in the following chapter; in Loria's many writings; and in those of Ing. Rómulo Escobar, as in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 4 November 1909 (rehearsing the semiofficial view of agricultural survey, study, experimentation, instruction, and propaganda, all of which were needed to make sure of deriving maximum benefit within each local environment). 37. See de la Peña and Molina Enríquez, as cited above. 38. Economista Mexicano, 22 December 1906, and El Impartial, 20 September 1910, the latter deploring a "land hunger" on the part of rich Mexicans who were said to be buying more and more land instead of improving what they already possessed. 39. De la Peña and Molina Enríquez as cited above, and Diario del Hogar, 12 September 1905; Genaro Raigosa, La evolución agrícola, pp. 145 ff.; de P. Sentiés, La organización política, p. 20; and Francisco A. Avila, Durango (Durango, 1949), pp. 8-10. A version of this concern was also expressed by those who feared new land speculation on a grand scale by foreigners who were presumed to have no intention of putting lands into production; see Economista Mexicano, 25 June 1910, copying a brief passage from La Liberal (Guadalajara, Jalisco). 40. Molina Enríquez, as cited above. 41. Typical statements may be found in El Pais, 15 September 1906, and by Manuel Murado in Economista Mexicano, 7 May 1910. Foreign observers usually stressed this point along with the positive measures they felt would improve and dignify the life of the rural poor. The Church laid primary stress on this matter, as in Bishop Trinidad Herrera's long report to the first agricultural congress (Tulancingo, 1904), September 8, 1904, in Boletín de la Secretaría de Fomento 4 (1905): 1453-1468; the themes list for the third agricultural congress (Zamora, 1906) in El Pais, 26 January 1906; and the keynote address October 22, 1908 by Bishop José Mora y del Rio for the agricultural congress at León in El Pais, 22 October 1908. See also El Impartial, 16, 18, and 22 October 1910, reporting the second "social week" (Semana Católico-Social) held at Mexico City in September-October 1910, sponsored by then Archbishop Mora y del Rio. 42. This view was held quite generally before 1910. It is seen in the latter two publications cited just above, in the Programa del Partido Liberal (St. Louis, Mo., 1906), and in Francisco Madero's publications as well as generally throughout the country. 43. A typical statement is in El Pais, 21 October 1910, by the representative of the landowners' Sociedad Agrícola Mexicana, who addressed the second "social week" at Mexico City in 1910. He stressed irrigation, lower freight rates, and heavier private investment as the obvious needs. 3. THE COMPLEX

ANALYSES

1. Gayol had only recently returned from a very long trip, commissioned by the federal government, to inspect large irrigation projects. For the earlier part of the trip see FO 126.9138/ 1909, mentioning his visits to the Periyar and Dowlaiswaram projects in India and two others in Ceylon. He was next to go to Egypt, Italy, and Germany. 2. Meaning that government held power over all water deposits and streams not yet granted out (by Spanish or Mexican authorities) to private persons. The exception to this rule—that all water that fell or ran, ipso facto, was either in government possession or had been granted away by government to private persons—was the case of rainfall that soaked into private

248

Notes to Pages 69-97

property rather than running off and away. That liquid was always to be part of the property upon which it fell. 3. From the place at which a stream began to flow permanently it would be "federal." Any arroyo figuring as part of an international boundary, or bounding any two or more states, would be "federal," whether or not of constant flow. Rainfall was public property save where it absorbed into private land upon which it fell. 4. Madero, Estudio. For background of the difficulties and problems in that specific zone see Ruiz, Great Rebellion, pp. 91-92 and 116-118. 5. Figures for seed grown came from the one main buyer, he said, the Compañía Industrial Jabonera de La Laguna. Treasury Minister José Yves Limantour had sent him the cottonseed import statistics. See Madero, Estudio, p. 25. 6. The cases he argued away were those in Spain and in France. In taking the prosubsidy position, however, Palacios was overlooking the fact that Gayol's most recent and most telling examples of ineffective subsidy had been drawn from events in the United States. 7. Braniff, Observaciones, p. 20, and, for the earlier quotations above, pp. 27 and 28. The list quoted just above may not sound like short-run objectives, but as will be seen, Braniff had equally ambitious objectives that would take even longer to bring about. 4. RECONNOITERING

THE RIVERS: THE EARLY PROJECTS

1. For political involvements of amparo, see Carl Schwarz, "Judges Under the Shadow: Judicial Independence in the United States and Mexico," California Western International LawJournals (May 1973): 260-332 (citing others of his works); and for many of the historical and legal aspects, see Richard D. Baker, Judicial Review in Mexico: A Study of the Amparo Suit (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1971), pp. xiii and 238, for the view stated above (in the text). 2. Keremitsis, La industria textil, pp. 69-70. 3. Meyers, "Politics, Vested Rights, and Economic Growth in Porfirian Mexico: The Company Tlahualilo in the Comarca Lagunera, 1885-1911," Hispanic American Historical Renew 57 (August 1977): 431; and see pp. 425-432 for a lucid statement of the pressures and conflicts arising from the desire to put more and more land into cotton cultivation with unreliable and insufficient water available. The armed struggles, disagreements, and legal tangles from 1879 onward are very briefly treated by Pastor Rouaix, Geografía del Estado de Durango (Tacubaya: Talleres Gráficos de la Secretaría de Agricultura y Fomento, 1929), pp. 195-196. 4. Keremitsis, La industria textil, pp. 176 and 182, stresses that all during the nineteenth century the federal government favored cotton (and other agricultural) production rather than those who bought the cotton, the Mexican textile manufacturers. 5. Meyers, "Politics," p. 431. The four were on the upper-river stretch, in Durango State. 6. Meyers, "Politics," p. 432, using papers in the ASCJ. Sixty-nine owners applied for confirmation. 7. Meyers, "Politics," p. 432, and Clifton B. Kroeber, "La cuestión del Nazas hasta 1913," Historia Mexicana 20 (April 1971): 431-432. The company had first petitioned on October 20, 1885 for the right to open a canal into the Nazas and to transport a huge amount of water many miles away to serve thousands of hectares of land in the old Lake Tlahualilo bed; see SRH, Concesiones, Río Nazas, expediente 49. A contract was finally drawn up between the company and the Ministry of Development on April 14, 1887, but it was still delayed—not countersigned, and thus not put into force—as long as possible by various opponents. 8. Article 2 of the Waters Law (Diario Oficial, 8 June 1888). 9. The confusion expressed above, as to how the law could be presumed to apply to the Rio Nazas, may have a simple explanation. The copy of the law I have seen did say "throughout its length as a border," but either at that time or soon thereafter the law was seen to read "as a border," in which case it—the law—would have applied to the Nazas, which borders between Durango and Coahuila. 10. I have seen only extracts and summaries of these reports, which were made by Capt. Francisco Diaz Rivero to the secretary of war December 12, 1886; by Capt. José Reyes and

Notes to Pages 97-111

249

José Mondragón, October 6, 1887; by Ing. Carlos A. de Medina y Ormachea, November 12, 1887; and, entitled Exploración en el Rio Nazas, by Ings. Leopoldo Zamora and Federico Wulff, October 5, 1887 (this latter including a map, "Exploración del Rio Nazas, 1887," printed by the Dirección de Estudios Geográficos y Climatológicos, Tacubaya, Mexico, D.F.). It was the Zamora-Wulff report that was made on account of the controversy raised by Coahuila State. 11. Ibarrola's mission must have been at work by 1890 because he had already submitted a lengthy report by November 12. In January 1891 he convened a meeting of some of the interested parties. His final note to the ministry is dated June 12, 1891. The minister, Manuel Fernández Leal, made up the reglamento from Ibarrola's November 12, 1890 report and issued it June 24, 1891, with modifications in December 1891 to tighten up procedures in some respects. See SRH, Concesiones, Río Nazas, Caja Sb, expediente 49, and AAF 22.521(07), expediente 10. 12. Reglamento provisional para la distribución de las aguas del río Nazas, desde la presa de San Fernando en el Estado de Durango, hasta la Laguna de Mayrán en el de Coahuila, signed by President Díaz (copies in SRH, Concesiones, Río Nazas, Caja 3b, expediente 49, and AAF 22.521[07], expediente 10). IS. Save for dimensions of the canal and location of its opening at a certain elevation, and the stipulation that the river would flow only partly into the canal (the river dividing into two branches at that point, running around a small bank or islet). 14. "A dam of piles and riprap was thrown across the river at a point where it is about 1500 feet wide at flood." Matías Romero, Geographical and Statistical Notes on Mexico (New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1898), p. 69. 15. Meyers, "Politics," p. 434. 16. Ibid., for this information and also for that in the text just below. 17. Owners' obligations to cooperate with the engineers of the Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas were added to the reglamento by the president's action in December 1891. 18. Signed by President Diaz July 15, 1895; in AAF, Concesiones, Río Nazas, expediente 2. 19. Much of the information given just below, and Ibarrola's arguments, is seen in his long memorandum as chief engineer of the Inspection Commission, Rio Nazas, to Ministry of Communications and Public Works, Villa Lerdo, July 4, 1894 (ASCJ, Compañía del Tlahualilo contra el Gobierno Federal, Cuaderno Principal, número 3). He had written on April 3; the ministry responded with questions on June 21; and in this July memorandum Ibarrola clarified the bases of his recommendations. 20. Meyers, "Politics," p. 441; and see pp. 439-442, where Meyers brings out very important dimensions of the political implications relating to Coahuila interests and the government's concern with them. 21. Meyers, "Politics," p. 439. 22. Keremitsis, La industria textil, pp. 184-186, discusses one of these new, heavily capitalized enterprises, the Compañía Algodonera de La Laguna, which was organized in 1898 with the intention of controlling all of Mexico's cotton production (presumably thinking of exportation among other things). The Terrazas family and William Purcell were two of the important participating interests, partly in order to support and diversify their basically cattleraising operations. 23. As one example, on October 28, 1894, Matio Gonzalez Marrón of Hacienda de Cantarranas asked a concession for using (and returning to the river) water for power generation. The record in AAF 21.213(18), expediente 53, shows the typical stages of inspection, submission and verification of data, and other steps, and reveals in this case, as in so many others, long delays attributable to lack of response at certain stages, resolution of certain doubts, and change of ownership. This concession was eventually granted, then revised and granted again in different scope in 1903. 24. Handwritten memorandum, 5 April 1898, in the expediente cited just above. The concession was granted February 3, 1899 and again July 20, 1903 (Diario Oficial, 27 February 1899 and 25 July 1903). 25. Ramón de Ibarrola, Memoria de la Comisión Especial Reglamentadora de los ríos Atoyac y Nexapa (Tacubaya, 1906), AAF 22.521(18), expediente 5. 26. Keremitsis, La industria textil, p. 103, states that in 1880 Mier acquired special water

250

Notes to Pages 111-119

rights in the Río Atoyac from the state of Puebla for his Hacienda San Nicolas, and that with the resultant network of canals and tunnels (raising the water up to his lands) he was able to produce hydroelectric power for textile plants and for the city of Puebla. 27. Ibarrola's Memoria as cited above; and Sebastián B. de Mier to Minister of Development Manuel Fernandez Leal, 5 January 1898, AAF Caja 16b III, expediente 19. 28. Secretaría de Comunicaciones y Obras Públicas to Secretaría de Fomento, Colonización e Industria, 4 June 1897, AAF Caja F-a III, expediente 18. The reasoning was that one or more of the rivers were boundaries between Puebla and Guerrero states, and that several of the rivers were "direct confluents" of the Atoyac, in which they exercised "notable influence" in the sense of helping to make the Rio Atoyac substantial enough to be navigable and permanent in its flow. All this time concessions were still being formalized in the zone, as in the January 1898 concessions with Luis Gómez Daza, and with Marcelino Zepeda and Ramón González (the latter for 4,500 liters per second from the Río San Baltasar, otherwise known as the Río Los Molinos). 29. Ibarrola to the minister of development, Tacubaya, 25 February 1901 (AAF Caja 16b III, expediente 18). Ibarrola formalized the results of his conference with the president and accompanied that account with a memorandum sketching in the form and scope of a special commission. The president agreed and sent the papers on to the Ministry of Development, where the Comisión Especial Reglamentadora de los ríos Atoyac y Nexapa was created on June 29, 1899. Ibarrola already held the ministry's commission to do the work himself (Minister of Development oficio to Ibarrola, Mexico City, 9 or 19 March 1899); see the discussion in SRH 22.521(18), expediente 5, and in AAF 22.521(18), expediente 5. SO. Copies of some individual grants and some surveys dating from 1560, 1592-1594, 1635, 1710-1717, and 174S, involving the rivers Atoyac and Nexapa and some tributaries, are in Ibarrola's typewritten "Memoria sobre los trabajos de la Comisión...," Tacubaya, 29 September 1906 (AAF 2252[18], expediente 5). The 1635 survey included all the careful mapping and grants made by Dr. Juan Gónzález Peñafiel (fiscal, and juez para la aplicación y repartimiento de aguas del río Atoyac). The Mier concession rights were derived from Dr. González Peñafiel's series of inspections and grants. 31. Ibarrola's "Memoria," cited just above, identifies the law as effective on August 2, 1863, forbidding authorities to assume what the old unit of water, the surco, had actually represented in practice. After studying the antique documents, Ibarrola believed that the survo itself, as a measurement of opening into a channel, measured 6 by 4Vi inches. 32. Mier to Minister of Development, Mexico, 5 January 1898 (AAF, Caja 16b III, expediente 19). 33. Ramón de Ibarrola to Minister of Development, Tacubaya, 5 November 1908 (SRH 218-1107, expediente 19). The concession was dated December 18, 1897, with Carlos M. Rubio and Francisco C. Garcia, for use of 6,000 liters per second to be taken near the confluence of the rivers Camécuaro and Chilcota, above Chaparaco Dam. 34. Oficio 5977 of the ministry to Ibarrola, mentioned in the report cited just above. Ibarrola went in May with three members of his group, who would then stay in Michoacán. He returned there at least once, in October, to inspect the work this section of his commission was doing as well as the works they were visiting. 35. Resúmen de las superficies de los Terrenos Regados... [in the Cañada de los Once Pueblos and Valle de Tangancícuaro], locating the twenty-six dams belonging to haciendas, towns, and mills, all of which together were using 132,000 cubic meters of the river's flow (SRH 218-1107, expediente 19). The survey from the origins of the stream down to Chaparaco Dam lasted about six months. 36. Save for the report cited just above and the summary statement, a 133-page report entitled Comisión del Atoyac. Estudio de la parte aha del Rio Duero en el Estado de Michoacán presentado a la Secretaria de Fomento por el Ingeniero CivilJ. Ramón de Ibarrola (AAF 22.521[13]8.2), undated and probably finished during 1904. In his note of November 5,1908, cited above, Ibarrola explained that the final Rio Duero reports were taken back to the state of Puebla and kept among the papers of the Comisión del Atoyac, and much later were found and submitted to higher authority, perhaps as late as 1906. 37. In addition to the "Memoria" cited above, Informe de los Trabajos Ejecutados por la

Notes to Pages 121-129

251

Comisión Especial. . . . by Rafael A. Serrano P., Tacubaya, SO June 1904; idem, Informe de la Comisión de los Ríos Atoyac y Nexapa, 1904-1905, Atlixco, July 1905; and idem, Informe de los trabajos ejecutados por la Comisión para el estudio y reglamentación de ríos en el año de 1905-1906, Atlixco, SO June 1906 (all addressed to IbarTola for his use in making yearly reports and his final memoria; AAF 22.521[18], expediente 4). 5. RECONNOITERING

THE RIVERS: THE LATER

WORK

1. By that time the Matamoros rights were being exercised by a sizable number of landowners, to whom the municipality had issued shares of its 1864 right. The zone involved was known as the "Cuadro de Matamoros." 2. In his investigations Beltrán went still farther afield, reconnoitering some sixty kilometers of the upper river in Realito Cañón and looking at eighty-nine small derivations there. 3. It is unsigned, evidently worked up from Beltrán's data and memorandums. He had probably gone on to another field project without doing the last working-up of all the final recommendations. See Memoria, Rio Aguanaval (from Inspector de Aguas Fernando Beltrán y Puga to the minister of development, Mexico, 24 June 1904) and Beltrán's Río Aguanaval (Estados de Coahuila y Durango). Informe... (to the minister of development, Mexico, 23 June 1904), both in AAF 22.521(07), expediente 6. The engineers who did the continuous six months' work in the field, the shorter visit later on, and six months at the ministry working up the data and reports were Ings. Luis Guerrero Romero (shifted from the Rio Atoyac project), Manuel López Moctezuma, Carlos Amador, and, in the concluding phase only, Manuel Pardo. Although these reports by Beltrán make abundantly clear what he intended the proposed reglamento to contain, the final document seems later to have been worked up in the Ministry of Development's Section Five by Ing. Monsalve, in a very impressive staff paper containing not only a reglamento but a discussion as to which varieties of information still had to be gathered before the reglamento could be given effect (AAF 22.521[07], expediente 5). 4. Río Aguanaval, Reglamento Provisional para la Distribución de las Aguas del Río, desde la Hacienda de Jimulco hasta la Salida del Cuadro de la Villa de Matamoros, without date or author indicated, but submitted by Section Five to the minister of development (AAF 22.521 [07], expediente 4). It was shown that the assumption then being made for the local coeficiente de riego was the same as for the Rio Nazas lands— that is, to cover the land with from .25 to .57 meter of water, translating into a total of 2,500-5,700 cubic meters per hectare, for cotton cultivation. By that time Beltrán had guessed that 5,000 cubic meters would suffice for a hectare of land on the Aguanaval. This reglamento also recognized the fact that the largest property involved (the Cuadro de Matamoros lands) could use all the river's water on lands then owned in that parcel. So the reglamento had been done with the prior conclusion that the river water could not possibly suffice to serve all lands then intended for, or prepared for, cotton cultivation. A document entitled Proyecto de Reglamento sobre el uso de las Aguas del Río entre Matamoros de La Laguna y la Salida del Cañón del Realito, submitted by Ing. J. Guardiola in Section Five to the minister of development, 28 August 1905 (AAF 22.521[07], expediente 5) seems to be earlier and to have been done while Beltrán's reports were still being read for the first time. The suggestion was made here, and very likely followed, that local authorities be asked to enforce a standstill regarding any works then being constructed along the stream. 5. The authorities might have been given pause by the aggressive memorandum by Lie. Fernando Vega, "Memorandum sobre los derechos que tiene el Señor Don Amador Cárdenas, Propietario de la Hacienda de 'Jesús Nazareno.'..." [undated], seemingly written before June 1908. Vega directly attacked federal authority, alleging that the waters law not only was being strained in practice but was itself not in accord with Mexico's civil code and could not therefore shelter the current exercises of federal authority. Vega also made some legal excursions of perhaps lesser merit, such as claiming that because the Matamoros lands had been granted to 350 persons but were now concentrated in fewer hands, the Matamoros claim to water had no basis (handwritten memorandum, in AAF 22.521[07], expediente 8).

252

Notes to Pages 129-138

6. This conclusion rests on evidence in expedientes cited above. In 1906 Ing. Manuel López Moctezuma went to inspect a difficult situation involving several landowners in conflict over water allowable in their canals. In 1909 the Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas (which was then handling all Aguanaval cases) allowed a petition on condition of the owner's restoration of facilities to their state as of 190S. In 1908 a formal conference held in Section Five of the ministry, with several owners and the minister present, demanded that all facilities of Hacienda Jesús Nazareno be dismantled. In 1909 further petitions were delayed, ultimately at least until 1922, on the view that the Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas was about to conduct another study of the Rio Aguanaval preparatory to confirmation of water rights there. As of 1909 a bitter conflict still raged between the Cárdenas family and the Sindicato de Accionistas de Matamoros y Río Aguanaval. See AAF 22.521(07). 7. "Memoria General sobre los trabajos hechos por la Comisión del Estudio del Río de San Juan. Presentado al Ministerio de Fomento por el Ingeniero Jefe en ella, Fernando Beltrán y Fuga, México, D.F., Noviembre 28 de 1905" (typewritten), SRH 218-1900, expediente 1. A copy with many maps and ancillary studies is in AAF 22.521(19), expediente 2. 8. See the memoria cited just above. There were eight middle-sized dams and some small ones in addition to the huge Teupa and Guapango reservoirs. Beltrán showed that a very effective job had been done of capturing all available water on the property. Further, one of the sizable reservoirs (Del Molino) had been worked up to provide hydroelectric power for a small textile plant on the property. 9. See the memoria cited just above. At the time of his report, Beltrán had only some figures collected at the city of Querétaro beginning in 1877. In this memoria he discussed reasons why whole series of observations in different sections of such a large drainage basin with such varying topography were needed. 10. The large haciendas in the lowlands had highly ineffective works, one of them containing twenty different reservoirs (one in the river channel, the rest beyond); but even the Hacienda Arroyozarco's huge dams were not in good state. The heaviest works in the larger dam dated from the eighteenth century and, Beltrán observed, would not have been reliable under heavy stress ("Monografía," Mexico, 28 November 1905, AAF 22.521[19], expediente 2). 11. Beltrán was confident in recommending these grants, in spite of such a lack of basic information concerning the river's annual flow. He had assembled a pattern of indications to predict what the expectable "disaster minimum" flow might be. That hypothetical figure showed that plenty of water would be available even in the worst years. 12. All these specific recommendations for works and distributions in the Polotitlán zone rested on the "Informe del Ingeniero Baltasar Fernández Cué sobre el estudio especial hecho en el Canal de Polotitlán," which is Anexo S to Beltrán's "Memoria" of November 28, 1905 (SRH 218-1900, expediente 1). 13. Beltrán was trying for a conservative prediction. Without even imposing a reglamento on all users, simply by having Hacienda Arroyozarco let most of its water flow, wheat could be produced on 13,000 hectares in bad years, 26,000 in medium years, and 42,000 in years of best river flow (i.e., on eight, fifteen, or twenty-four sitios de ganado mayor), even using an extremely high figure of 10,000 cubic meters per hectare as the coeficiente de riego. 14. Save for one he did not recommend because the applicant's lands did not touch the riverbank and were thus not eligible. In any case, Beltrán thought, this application was purely speculative, aiming for a higher sale figure for the lands involved. 15. Fernando Beltrán y Puga's summary report of what he had found in the files in the Ministry of Development when acting as Ingeniero Inspector de Irrigación at Mexico City, 18 January 1921 (SRH 212.8 S-ll, expediente 1). Dates he mentions include one for an informe submitted by Ing. Guerrero Romero on July 27, 1906, giving all early figures for measurement of the height above sea level of the lake surface as well as some other factors. Certainly there was a Comisión del Rio Lerma in operation by 1904-1905, because Beltrán in his "Memoria General" of November 28, 1905, concerning the work along the Río San Juan del Rio (cited above), states plainly that he used some of the funds from that commission and that he had borrowed Ing. Joaquín Avila from the Lerma work. 16. Beltrán's summary report cited just above. Some volumes had been measured at the lake's outlet (1903-1921), and similar measurements had been made for some streams enter-

Notes to Pages 140-146

253

ing the lake. But no rainfall station had been functioning nearby, nor had any evaporation data been taken. Not much was known, either, about uses of water along the tributary streams, and Beltrán concluded in 1921 that "such confusion reigns in the information within all these folders and official reports" that the first step should be to have Section Five of the ministry hunt up and compare all the old papers. 17. In his summary report of 1921, cited just above, Beltrán still pointed to the need both for dredging and for walling around the outlet as minimum tasks that had to be performed. 18. Economista Mexicano, 16 February 1907. With Serrano went Ings. Joaquín Avila, Ismael Gutierrez, Joaquín Lorenz, and Joaquín Serrano. The fieldwork was done by two sections of engineers. 19. For the following discussion I depend most of all upon Edward H. Spicer, The Yaquis: A Cultural History (Tucson, Ariz.: University of Arizona Press, 1980), a study which for the first time gives the ethnohistorical explanation of Yaqui culture after Mexican independence and which includes much more important understanding than I can fairly represent here. 20. Ibid., pp. 119-133. 21. Ibid., pp. 119, 135. 22. Ibid., p. 121. 23. Bernardo García Martínez, "La Comisión Geográfico-Exploradora," Historia Mexicana 24 (April-June 1975): 502; and Spicer, Yaquis, pp. 146-149. 24. Spicer, Potam, a Yaqui Village m Sonora, American Anthropological Association, Memoir 77 (Menasha: American Anthropological Association, 1954), pp. 9-16 and 28-34, for a synthesis of Yaqui historians' accounts to him in the late 1930s concerning disastrous hostilities brought upon the Indians by the Mexican government from the late 1870s until after 1910. By 1920, Spicer felt, "the majority of Yaquis were no longer in the Yaqui country." He speaks of the "ruthless deportation and extermination" after 1885 by which Yaqui society "was broken apart." 25. Spicer, Yaquis, p. 149. Ruiz, Great Rebellion, pp. 93-94, gives a clear and succinct explanation of the developing conflicts. 26. Ing. Guillermo Rodé, Jefe, Departamento de Construcciones (for the Yaqui valley) to Director of Irrigation, Hermosillo, 14 September 1921 (SRH 220.0 1-2205.4). 27. As an example see Lt. Col. Antonio F. Torres [in charge of the Comisión Científica de Sonora], "Descripción histórica relativa a loa trabajos de la Comisión... desde su creación," Magdalena, Sonora, 30 June 1909, in Memoria de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1909-1910 (Mexico, 1910), anexos, pp. 69-79, discussing works the commission had tried to build, beginning with a canal into Potam's northern lands in 1891. Apologetic this account is, but it claims credit for nothing. At p. 76 Torres enumerates several sizable projects partly completed between 1902 and 1905; but the disastrous flood of November 29, 1905 sanded up or destroyed all those works. Reconstruction afterward accomplished little. In 1905 the commission's own buildings and many of its records were destroyed. 28. Evelyn Hu-DeHart, "Development and Rural Rebellion: Pacification of the Yaquis in the Late Porfiriato," Hispanic American Historical Review 54 (February 1974): 75 ff. She points out that the Torres family owned 400,000 hectares of valley land and was involved in canal building and other projects, while individual members of the family held such posts as governor of the state. 29. Spicer, Yaquis, pp. 150-151. 30. Ibid., pp. 149-150, and Hu-DeHart, "Development," pp. 75-83, who discusses formal army campaigns and sporadic Yaqui guerrilla activities through the 1890s and again in 18991901, with few Indians continuing guerrilla actions after 1900. 31. Torres, "Descripción," as cited above. From July 16, 1902, the government was selling lands both on the Yaqui and Mayo rivers, to Indians but seemingly also to many others. Attempts to dig several canals were made, restoring works ruined earlier during wars or natural disasters. Water derivations were made for Indians but also for the Richardson Construction Company, which eventually gained a concession in 1909 to take river water for sale (with as much as one-third to be sold to Indians). But the early works for that project were destroyed in conflict in 1898, and work did not resume on canal construction until 1902 (to be destroyed again in 1905).

254

Notes to Pages 146-154

32. Spicer, Yaquis, pp. 151-152. 33. Hu-DeHart, "Development," p. 74. 34. See Hu-DeHart as cited in n. 30 just above. 35. Hu-DeHart, p. 76 and n. 11, indicating that the Richardson brothers were also involving themselves in "railroad, land speculation and colonization." The Richardson company later bought out the Sonora and Sinaloa Irrigation Company. 36. El Impartial, 3 December 1910, discusses the field mission of engineers sent by the ministry to do the preliminary survey. Eventually a dam and distribution channels were to be built upriver to serve all agricultural exploitations in the lowlands. 37. Economista Mexicano, 19 November 1910, discussing the field mission and its objectives and emphasizing that colonists would buy land at low prices. Such new colonies evidently would be placed in among Yaqui farming settlements. A U.S.-owned company was already making the preliminary search for a dam site in the headwaters zone. El Impartial, 8 and 10 November 1910, seemingly uses the same information, which likely was sent to newspapers from government offices. The newspaper adds that European colonists would be able to teach the Yaquis better farming methods, that enough wheat would be obtained in the valley to export throughout the western hemisphere, and that the first estimate of cost for the dam came to twenty-four million pesos. 38. See the summary accounts of Yaqui troubles in González Navarro, El porfiriato, pp. 249-259, and the brief account of harassment and deportation in 1908 in Hu-DeHart, "Development," pp. 87-91. 39. Spicer, Potam, as cited above, n. 24. 40. Torres, "Descripción," p. 78, explains that after the flood of November 1905, so many Yaquis were sent off to work on the Guaymas-Guadalajara railroad that too few remained as laborers on projects in the Rio Yaqui valley. The ministry then instructed him to shift his efforts into mapping. He left only one engineer. Angel Vallejo, to survey lands there. Two other engineers quit, and three did the mapping. See also Torres's report, Mexico City, 31 December 1910, in Memoria de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1910-1911 (Mexico, 1911), pp. 222-223. 41. Since I never found the manuscripts relating to the boundary rivers (and suppose them to have been segregated years ago), I rely for this discussion upon the very intensive and careful history of Ernesto Enriquez Coyro, El tratado entre Mexico y los Estados Unidos de América sobre ríos internacionales. Una lucha nacional de noventa años, 2 vols. (Mexico: Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, 1975), 1:51-369, and upon the equally careful and discerning work by Norris A. Hundley, Jr., Dividing the Waters: A Century of Controversy Between the United States and Mexico (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1966), pp. 19-43, and the early pages of idem, Water and the West: The Colorado River Compact and the Politics of Water in the American West (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 1975). I will not cite specific pages in the pertinent sections of those works save in a few cases. 42. The name of the town was changed in 1886 to Ciudad Juárez. 43. Charles A. Timm, The International Boundary Commission United States and Mexico, University of Texas Publication no. 4134 (Austin: University of Texas, 1941), pp. 26 ff. The commission had authority in all "differences or questions that may arise" where the Rio Colorado or Rio Bravo "form the boundary lines, whether such differences or questions grow out of alterations or changes in the b e d . . . or of the works that may be constructed in said rivers, or of any other cause affecting the boundary lines" (Timm, p. 38, quoting Article 1 of the treaty). The work itself began in 1894. 44. Hundley, Dividing the Waters, pp. 31-38. 45. Ibid., pp. 29-30 and 40, and Timm, The International Boundary, pp. 175-186 (on the background of the settlement). 46. Anson Mills, My Story, edited byC. H. Claudy (Washington, D.C., 1918), p. 300, mistakenly recalled that Beltrán left the commission during Francisco Madero's presidency. Mills said of the four Mexican commissioners with whom he served that "they sought always to attain righteous decisions, and I think succeeded" (and in the more than one hundred cases decided from 1894 to 1911, the commissioners agreed in all but the one case of El Chamizal).

Notes to Pages 155-161

255

47. See Timm, The International Boundary, chap. 8, on the case of El Chamizal, giving the reasons why the U.S. government repudiated and would not comply with the arbitral award announced June IS, 1911. 48. Timm, The International Boundary, chaps. 5-6 on the Treaty of 1905 mentioned below in the text and on the banco work. See also Beltrán y Puga's notes to the minister of foreign relations, El Paso, 14 October 1909, and to Commissioner Anson Mills, 5 August 1912, in Mexico, Comisión Internacional de Límites entre México y los Estados Unidos, Sección Mexicana, Monumentación de Bancos en el Río Brávo del Norte.. ,2a Serie... S9a89, Años 1910 a 1912 (México, 1912), pp. 17 and 102. 49. See Hundley, Dividing the Waters, pp. 38-39; and for background, scientific context, and events up to 1907, see Godfrey Sykes, The Colorado Delta, American Geographical Society Special Publication no. 19 (Washington and New York: American Geographical Society, 1937), pp. 39-70 and 110-120. 50. Including specific efforts to settle the lower Rio Bravo controversy through a binational Rio Grande Commission established in 1909. See favorable comment in El Impartial, 27 May 1910, and El Pais, 6 November 1910 (discussing the suggestion for a large international dam projected for the vicinity of Eagle Pass, Texas). See also Timm, The International Boundary, p. 196. 51. See Hundley, Dividing the Waters, pp. 30, 31, and 37, for an indication of how a disaster in one zone could draw away attention from affairs in other zones. 52. By the oidor Ladrón de Guevara. He had grouped the twenty-four into ten water rights expressed in surcos (and their fractions in naranjas and dedos). There had been more than ten populations (most prominently, Coyoacán and San Angel), several haciendas, colegios, a mayorazgo, a curacy, and a couple of ranchos in the original distribution. 53. Reglamento sobre el uso de las aguas del río de la Magdalena, del Distrito Federal, in Memoria de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1905-1907 (Mexico, 1907), pp. 429-432. This was signed March 19, 1907, and countersigned in the Ministry of Development on March 20. Rights for using water in irrigation were expressed in percentages of the river's flow, with a special system of "turns" for the Hacienda de la Piedad. The percentages entitled owners to take stated proportions of the water reaching their properties. 54. El Impartial, 1 August 1909. 55. Ibid., showing that instead of being elected by all the users, this junta had been appointed by someone in the Secretaría de Gobernación, and included nine persons representing only populated places, not haciendas, factories, or hydroelectric plants. 56. El Impartial, 1 August 1909, and El Pats, 30 March 1909. Such pollution was forbidden by Article 15 of the reglamento (which in Article 19 gave to the junta the responsibility for all policing of the river). 57. Some specifics are in His Britannic Majesty's Ambassador Reginald Tower to Sir Edward Grey, Foreign Secretary, Mexico, 11 and 25 August 1908 (FO 126.204/29699 and 31247). See also The Mexican Herald, 26 August and 4 September 1908, for brief notices. 58. If not, the charge would be 400,000 pesos. But one of the British dispatches cited just above says that the government was to bear this expense. 59. A useful chronology of the Pearson surveys from contract date (August 25, 1908) until their second report (January 15, 1910) is in Ing. Leandro Femández's informe, Mexico, 12 September 1912 (SRH 218.701, expediente 50). Seemingly, some reconnaissance had been done beginning in October 1908. 60. In reports of June 1909 and 15 January 1910 (SRH 218.701, expedientes 1 and 5). See also El Impartial, 22 February 1910. 61. General Angel García Peña's informe, Jalapa, 9 December 1910, in SRH 220.1-702/3; and brief discussion in Memoria de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1908-1909 (Mexico, 1909), p. xi, and in President Diaz's message to the congress, 16 September 1908, in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 27 September 1908. 62. It would not be fair to say that Ramón de Ibarrola was less well known. By 1910 he may have returned to civil engineering work in the Ministry of Communications and Public Works, or may have gone into private consulting work. 63. As but one example of a great many that are mentioned in newspapers and in official

256

Notes to Pages 161-174

registers of the various states, see El Pats, 14 February 1909, recounting appointment of a commission to do the work of reglamentación of the irrigation waters for the Villa de Aldama, Chihuahua State (the commission consisting of five water-users and three civic officials). 64. In his work cited above, Organización del servicio federal. 65. The Río de la Laja was studied to some extent as part of the work of the Comisión del Lerma, of which I know so little. As for the Rio Colorado study, it had been scheduled to be done by a field team in 1909; see Ing. Francisco de P. Piña, "La Comisión Geográfico-Exploradora," Boletín de la Sociedad Mexicana de Geografía e Estadística 5 (Mexico, 1909): 292. 6. BRINGING LAW TO POLICY 1. Antenor Pérez de Yarto, El agua en sus relaciones con el derecho internacional, constitucional, administrativo y civil (Mexico: Oficina Tipográfica de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1899), p. 76. 2. Ibid. 3. Ibid., p. 77. That others had also felt the need to "organize the streams" is seen in a federal grant to Juan Ignacio Jiménez, September 17, 1864, of a merced de agua from the Río Nazas, on condition that the concession remain subject to any "arreglo definitivo que llegare á hacerse por autoridad competente, sobre todos las tomas de agua del río de Nazas." AGN, Secretaría de Fomento, Dirección de Aguas, legajo 4, expediente 15 (Solicitudes hechas por diversos particulares de 1864 á 1867). 4. Rafael L. Hernández ¿Los contratos concesiones de agua que otorga el poder administrativo, importan existencias de un derecho civil irrevocable, susceptible de adquirirse por prescripción, dotado de toda clase de acciones civilesf (Monterrey: Imprenta de R. Díaz, 1900), pp. 9 ff. 5. Quoted in a senate committee (First on Constitutional Points, and First and Second on Development, acting together) and copied in Memoria de la Secretaría de Fomento, 19101911 (Mexico, 1911), pp. xliii-xlvi. 6. Memoir of 15 May 1891, in Vallarta, Los afluentes de los ríos navegables y flotables (Mexico: Oficina Tipográfica de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1897), pp. 12-17. 7. Ibid. 8. The Law of June 6, 1894, in Luis A. Vidal y Flor, Colección de leyes federales vigentes sobre tierras, bosques, aguas, egidos, colonización y gran registro de la propiedad (Mexico, Herrera Hermanos, 1901), pp. 167-169, and in Manuel Dublán and José María Lozano, comps., Legislación mexicana ó colección completa de las disposiciones legislativas..., vol. 24 (Mexico, 1898), pp. 180-181. 9. Article 4 declared the national territory to extend only three nautical miles to seaward, but Article 5 provided that "vigilancia y jurisdicción de las autoridades federales podrá extenderse en el mar, en material fiscal hasta una distancia de veinte kilómetros," as copied in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 22 January 1903. 10. Law of December 22, 1905, in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 7 January 1905. 11. Discussion, and copies of the respective laws, in Economista Mexicano, 14, 15, and 17 December 1907 and 11 and 25 January 1908. 12. For some detail, see pp. 157-158, above. 13. Diario de la Cámara de Diputados, 23d Cong., sess. 3,11 and 13 December 1907, with brief explanation as to why the deputies were accepting the senate's curtailed verbiage quoted above. The original, much lengthier wording had originally come into the congress from the delegation of the state of Yucatán and had been studied and debated intermittently throughout the year. The final wording of Fracción 22 of Article 72, when ratified by each state and issued June 20, 1908, was: "Para dictar leyes sobre vías generales de comunicación y sobre postas y correos; para definir, determinar cuáles son las aguas de jurisdicción federal y expedir leyes sobre el uso y aprovechamiento de las mismas." This change may have been the one that finally banished from the picture the question of whether a stream would be of federal jurisdiction in relation to boundaries of states—i.e., whether the stream became "federal" only if serving as a boundary throughout its course, or whether it was to be considered "federal" if ai any point along its course it served as boundary for two or more states.

Notes to Pages 176-187

257

14. McCaleb, Present and Past Banking, p. 191. 15. Limantour's letter of 25 June and the Caja's response dated 24 July in Diario Oficial, 23 August 1909, seemingly published in the official gazette so as to put pressure on the leaders of the Caja. Earlier reaction had been very hopeful: see Joaquín D. Casasús, 17 October 1908, in Durango, Periódico Oficial, and in The Mexican Herald, 23 October 1908. As late as 13 and 16 March 1910, in discussing the Caja's latest annual report, El Impartial still saw no ominous signs; but that newspaper was by and large the optimistic voice of the federal government's own policies. 16. A future treasury secretary, Toríbio Esquivel Obregón, made a grim and trenchant analysis before the Caja ever went into operation, showing why decisions and operations would be held within a small circle of influential people. He contrasted the prospective operations with those of a fund officially established in New Zealand "where thè government feels itself to be responsible and identifies with the people" (El Pats, 23 and 26 October 1908). Esquivel guessed that "the Caja could be the germ of moral ruin in this country," and he suggested the name was Caja de Préstamos "no porque preste dinero, sino porque sirve para pedirlo prestado." The Caja, he thought, "constitutes a monopoly, an exclusive traffic in the national credit for the benefit of a few privileged persons." One of his main objections was that this institution, in common with most Mexican banks, would be loaning its own money and would therefore make a much milder impression than it should. At the same time, however, the very announcement of the institution's founding had created immediate encouragement among bankers. See Thomas A. Dabney's brief report as third secretary in the U.S. Embassy, Mexico City, in W. F. Sands' dispatch, 5 November 1908 (USNA State, Decimal File). The British reports at the time were also encouraging. 17. See McCaleb, Present and Past Banking, pp. 193-194 and 201, and Adolfo Orive Alba, La política de irrigación en Mexico: historia, realizaciones, resultados agrícolas, económicos y sociales; perspectivas (Mexico: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1960), pp. 36-37, for a brief list of identities of some of the original large borrowers, only one of whom appears to have turned the investment to good use. At one time I tried to see the records, but abandoned the effort after having been received in long, grim silence by the first-rate administrator who, decades before, had been assigned to terminate the Caja's affairs, and likewise having been turned away by the administrator then holding the Caja's papers. Indeed, the Caja did not leave a happy memory behind it. 18. Ley de Aguas de Jurisdicción Federal, December 14, 1910, in Diario Oficial, 21 December 1910. 19. Reglamento de la Ley de Aguas de fecha 13 de Diciembre de 1910, in Diario Oficial, 1 February 1911 (with effect from January 31). 20. Herrera y Lasso, Apuntes sobre irrigación. Notas sobre su organización económica en el extranjero y en el país. Una posible solución al problema de la irrigación que facilita el desarrollo sin que resulte favorecido el capitalismo agrícola (Mexico: Librería de Murguía, 1919), for what follows in the text. His discussion is worth reading today in that he raises basic issues, relates these to statements made at the time he was writing, and delivers careful opinions of his own regarding each issue. 7. FOR THE FUTURE OF AGRICULTURE AND

IRRIGATION

1. One exception would be the council established to set into motion the Caja de Préstamos para Obras de Irrigación y Agricultura, S.A. 2. Minister Olegario Molina to the congress, 30 October 1909, accompanying a project for a law to create the Cámaras Agrícolas Nacionales, in Memoria de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1909-1910, p. 270. 3. Minister Molina to the congress, 8 November 1909, accompanying a project for a new law in the matter of survey of lands, appropriation of those vacant of title, and subdivision of ejidos' lands, in Diario de la Cámara de Diputados, 24th Cong., 9 November 1909. 4. So long as the hectare price did not exceed 25 pesos. 5. "Proyecto de ley para el fraccionamiento de terrenos," dated May 1911, by Minister Manuel Marroquín y Rivera, in Memoria de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1910-1911, pp.

258

Notes to Pages 188-191

223-225. It may be to this project, among others, that Minister José Yves Limantour of the Ministry of the Treasury had reference in his memoirs. Apuntes sobre mi vida pública (Mexico: Editorial Pomía, 1965), p. 93, saying that his ministry tried to favor residents of nearby settlements in subdividing hacienda lands. 6. Andrés Aldasoro, Subsecretary, Ministry of Development, to Governor of Durango, 19 December 1907, Durango Periódico Oficial, 2 January 1908. In early stages of this reform an additional certification was mentioned, ingeniero de montes, although that title seems to have been omitted by the time everything was made conclusive. See Economista Mexicano, 12 December 1907, for the decree of December 18 bringing the school into the ministry and pointing it toward the programs noted above. Martin H. Greenbeig, Bureaucracy and Development: a Mexican Case Study (Lexington: Heath Lexington Books, 1970), p. 10, notes that Ing. Manuel R. Vera, the head of the Fifth Section of the Ministry of Development, had tried to convince the school as early as 1906 to put hydraulic engineering in the curriculum. Greenbeig states that only in 1913 did basic irrigation principles appear in that curriculum. The memorisi of the governor of Durango for 1906-1908 (Durango, 1908), p. x, and anexos, pp. 80 and 81, show that the state did send two scholarship students of its own, in addition to the two receiving national scholarships. In the new programs, five years' study brought a degree of agronomist, and three more years were called for to gain the title of Agronomist-Engineer or Topographical-Hydraulic Engineer. 7. Economista Mexicano, 19 January 1908. 8. Diario de la Cámara de Diputados, 23d Cong., 1 April 1907. These stations were agricultural schools as well. See discussion in El Impaniai, 13 June and 5 February 1909. The Oaxaca station was directed by Ing. Félix Foex, who had recently returned from attending the National Corn Exposition at Omaha, Nebraska in December 1908 (see El Imparcial, 13 February 1909). One of the responsibilities for Foex in Oaxaca was to modernize com production there. 9. Minister Olegario Molina's "Proyecto de Ley," sent to the congress 24 November 1909, as cited above. 10. Ibid.; and Félix F. Palavicini's reports to the Ministry of Public Instruction, summarized in his "La enseñanza agrícola obligatoria," Economista Mexicano, 9 November 1907, La enseñanza técnica (industrialy agrícola) (Mexico: I. Lara, 1908), pp. 197 ff.; and Las escuelas técnicas (Mexico: "Fiat Lux," 1909). Palavicini had been sent to western Europe to collect useful ideas for these recommendations. 11. Viadas (long the head of the Fourth Section in the Ministry of Development), in Memoria de la Secretaria de Fomento, 1909-1910, pp. 311-313. See also El Imparcial, 8 November 1909. 12. See the federal budget for 1907-1908 in Diario de la Cámara de Diputados, 23d Cong., pp. 271-272, for the faculty's fields of specialization, many of them in practical aspects rather than in theoretical or administrative concerns. 13. But Viadas did not feel such a prohibition could extend, practically speaking, to owners whose own relatives had finished at the school. 14. President Diaz's decree of 7 January 1902, in Plan de Estudios (Mexico: Secretaria de Instrucción Pública, 1902), pp. 3-12. 15. El Imparcial, 9 March 1907, and Universidad Nacional de México, Memoria (Mexico, 1913), pp. 55-56 (covering the period September 1910-September 1912), for numbers of students in the various curricula for 1910-1911, 1911-1912, and 1912-1913. The greatest number, 77 percent, was in civil engineering, followed by mining (about 8 percent) and topography-hydraulics, which gained during those years from about 6 percent to 15 percent. One woman enrolled in the academic year 1910-1911. 16. El Imparcial, 2 May 1909. The dam would hold two million cubic meters and would fill twice annually from the torrential flow of the stream. The students gave copies of their finished work to Otumba's municipal council and to authorities of the state of Mexico. When last heard from, the project was to be financed by charges imposed on users within and outside the town. 17. Memoria de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1910-1911, pp. civ-cx. 18. El Imparcial, 12 February 1909.

Notes to Pages 191-198

259

19. "Proyecto de Ley" by Minister Olegario Molina, 24 November 1909, pp. 26 ff. (cited above). 20. Lauro Viadas, Director General of Agriculture, to Publisher, Durango, Periódico Oficial, 31 August 1910, in that publication on 15 September 1910. 21. USNA State, Decimal File, 24030, reflecting the request of 6 May 1910 and the welcome extended by the U.S. Departments of State and of Agriculture. The two Mexicans to go were Fernando Ferrari Pérez (director, Fauna and Flora Exploring Expedition) and Federico Atristain (subdirector general of agriculture). The Ministry of Development had asked that they be allowed to acquire "datos indispensables para implantar en México un servicio análago al de varias divisiones" of the U.S. Department of Agriculture. 22. El Impartial, 16 October 1910, announcing the impending trip by Guillermo Gándara, who would, upon his return, report his findings to the people at the Central Agricultural Station. 23. Informe of President Diaz to the congress, 16 September 1909, in ElPais, 18 September 1909. 24. Francisco de P. Piña, "La Comisión," p. 291. 25. Informe of Governor Enrique Creel to the legislature of Chihuahua State, June 1909 (Chihuahua, 1909), p. 36. The intention was, following the strong public-policy trend of that day, and in accord with the laws, to divide such lands into personal awards to individual Indians. How this could ever be done with the dispersed population of perhaps fifty thousand Tarahumaras was not explained. 26. In the work cited just above, pp. 35-43. What is most interesting here is that the state combined two policies. One stemmed from an almost moribund federal program meant to provide cheap residences to needy persons who were laborers. The other was Chihuahua's own adaptation of the "homestead" provision, copied from earlier U.S. usage, whereby some stated fraction of a personal property could not be taken from its owner for settlement of debt. 27. McCaleb, Present and Past Banking, p. 191. Commission members—Joaquín de Casasús, Oscar Braniff, José Y. Limantour, Carlos Robles, and Carlos Marcasusa—were "hopelessly at odds, each urging a particular scheme." They stuck, said McCaleb, on the very difficulty of the problem itself, and also suffered during their deliberations from interference by bankers. McCaleb said that the commission finally reported not their own plans but a recommendation in favor of the Caja de Préstamos para Obras de Irrigación y Agricultura, S.A., as it soon came to be. 28. A substantial proposal made at the government's request by Toribio Esquivel Obrégon is briefed and discussed in El Pais, 8 December 1909. A proposed Banco Colonizador was suggested, also, in various forms. Mutual funds among landowners, on the Raiffeisen model, were often recommended even by the government itself; see Economista Mexicano, 10 September 1910. Such a fund was established at Arandas, Jalisco, by wealthy landowners; see Economista Mexicano, 30 July 1910, briefing a fuller discussion in the Boletín de la Sociedad Agrícola Mexicana. 8. CRISIS IN LA LAGUNA 1. Meyers, "Politics," pp. 441-442. 2. This brief survey is drawn from Meyers, "Politics," and Kroeber, "La cuestión," whose sources and syntheses are complementary. 3. See, for instance, Keremitsis, La industria textil, pp. 184-186, discussing involvements of the Terrazas family, William Purcell, the Lavin family, and the Madero family, all of whom were enjoying favors from the federal government during the final years before the Revolution. See also Meyers, "Politics," for a brief discussion of Bernardo Reyes's involvement in the affairs of Coahuila at the time. 4. About two-thirds of that for 1896-1905. During 1905 and 1906 there was strong flow, then a disastrously low year in 1907. 5. Conflicts among owners were reported in newspapers, were well known to persons in public life at Mexico City, and were inescapably obvious when state troops were moved to the

260

Notes to Pages 198-203

river on at least one occasion. But the government's attention was unavoidably elsewhere at the time, making sure of the public peace in other zones and launching emergency economic policies. Each incident in La Laguna thus tended to be treated as if new and unique in itself, the usual report being that each incident had ended in restoration of "peace" in the Comarca Lagunera—as is often the reported outcome when people are not yet ready to recognize a problem underlying all separate incidents. 6. See Angel Hernández, on behalf of the Compañía del Tlahualilo, to Minister of Development, Mexico, 20 October 1885, and the minister's answer, 8 December 1885 (AAF, Rio Nazas, Concesiones, Caja 3b, expediente 49). To Hernandez's request to build a long canal and to repair San Fernando Dam so as to water 44,000 hectares of land bought by the company, the minister replies that he cannot yet entertain the request because the ministry already has a suggested law before the congress "concerning the reglamentación of the rivers." This initiative presumably was the one that later eventuated in the Waters Law of June 5, 1888. 7. Sommer, Hermann y Compañía to Minister of Communications and Public Works, Mexico, 9 July 1896 (AAF 22.521[07], expediente 25). Both upstream and downstream users were objecting to a ministry order of May 11 to observe the "tanda" (turn) order while the river was running low. The argument was that it was no use distributing such weak flow, which tended to filter away through the river and canal bottoms. Sommer, Hermann asserted that the federal government had legal power neither to distribute water from the Rio Nazas nor to apportion water according to amounts of land then presumed to be in cultivation. This appeal (written by the well-known figure Lie. Pablo Macedo) was printed in El Pats, 12 December 1908, as pertinent to the crisis building during the fall of 1908. 8. Six large properties are named in this sense in the "Memorandum para el Señor Presidente sobre el asunto de Distribución de las aguas del Río Nazas..." [July 12, 1896], by the Oficial Mayor of the Ministry of Communications and Public Works (AAF 22.521[07], expediente 25). See also Pastor Rouaix, Geografía, and Madero, Estudio, pp. 56-57. 9. This discussion is based on the 1896 report cited above and on part of another report of 1896 which was used in making up Manuel Marroqum y Rivera's Proyecto de Reformas al Reglamento para Distribución de Aguas del Nazas y Exposición de Motivos. Informe presentado a la Secretaría de Comunicaciones (Mexico: Tipografía de la Oficina Impresora del Timbre, 1897), pp. 1-16. The former report states that in 1881 the Mexican supreme court had ordered all irrigation works on the river removed. (I have seen various orders by governments to cease constructing, or to remove, given works, but I know of no case in which a government forced compliance.) 10. As explained by Ing. Ramón de Ibarrola, engineer in chief, Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas, to the minister of communications and public works, Villa Lerdo, 4 July 1894 (copy in ASCJ, Compañía del Tlahualilo contra el gobierno federal, Cuaderno Principal, expediente S). Each intake had been measured along with each canal, and the volume each could accept was thus derived. These figures were then used to yield the proportions of the river's flow to be taken by each owner, at different quantities for the four different stages of volume of water in the river and for the tanda system used in the reglamento of 1895. These volumes would give unmistakable indications of allowable capacity in each canal: if an owner were to expand his facilities, this would become obvious to inspectors. As the engineer in chief pointed out, it was considered illegal (beyond the government's authority) to prescribe numbers of days of use per year, because this "factor of time" had not figured in the original grants to individuals. The engineer in chief also pointed out that the traditional system of "overflow allotment"—allowing each canal to fill, one by one, in order downstream (with some or all owners eventually receiving some water)—was a traditional usage on the Rio Nazas, so much so as to constitute an essential feature of each water right. 11. See the Cuadro Sinóptico... showing amounts to be borne by canals from July to September, 1892, in AAF, Concesiones, Río Nazas, Caja Sb, expediente 17. Five of the big canals are shown to have been dangerously loaded while taking hardly half their allowed maxima. 12. See AAF, Concesiones, Río Nazas, Caja Sb, expediente 49, for a variety of appeals to be relieved of a commission order of August 22, 1906, to upper-river owners only, to leave their canals open so that a less dangerously heavy head of water would flow down to the lower-

Notes to Pages 203-205

261

river properties. Some owners claimed they held water rights but had no obligations to observe the government's orders. 13. See articles in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 26 March 1905, and El Impartial, 29 April 1905, discussing the expansion of Tlahualilo Company operations and pointing to the need for better government policies in aid of economic development of the Comarca Lagunera. 14. Madero, Estudio. 15. See Durango, Periódico Oficial, 17 January 1904, showing that the commission had already been doing borings in the Cañón de Fernández. 16. See Anexo 132 in the memoria of the governor of Durango, 1906-1908 (Durango, 1908), copying Minister of Development Olegario Molina's circular dated January 25, 1908, which called upon the governor to inform the ministry of all rivers in his state now coming within federal purview (as a result of recent congressional actin) "á fin de evitar futuras dificultades emanadas de la interpretación de las leyes." 17. See Basilio Romo, Algunas observaciones hechas en el Pais para determinar las cantidades de agua empleadas en los riegos. Junio de 1908 (Mexico: Imprenta y Fototipia de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1913), p. 4, quoting Manuel Marroquín y Rivera's figure for this coeficiente de riego (3,200 cubic meters foT the first watering, 2,560 for the second). In 1904 Marroquín y Rivera had been able to report for the Comisión Inspectora, more precisely now, the amounts of water needed in "upper" and in "lower" zones (totalling about 450 million cubic meters) in view of amounts of land then in cultivation. This was a somewhat reassuring figure, because it was lower than the minimum the river had carried in worst years recently, and even lower than some of the supposedly "worst" years that came about, normally, one in every ten or fifteen years. See SRH 218.8-701, expediente 1, for the commission's findings as to water actually taken by each of the twenty-nine canals from 1896 to 1908. As remarked in that report, although the commission had managed to ensure that enough water went to the lower-river owners, no party was happy with the distribution system during lowest-water years. When water was running low, the commission had had to measure the river's flow constantly at two crucial spots to make certain enough was going to lower-river properties. 18. Meyers, "Politics," pp. 438-439. 19. Durango, Periódico Oficial, 20 September 1908, for Governor Esteban Fernández's annual memoria. The order was modified to apply to the period August 20-September 20 and was intended to have effect in all future years. For a sense of the deep feelings aroused, see El Pais, 4, 6,11, 13,17,20, and 24 November and 8 December 1908, and 3 and 4 January 1909 (inveighing against the minister's action). 20. Meyers, "Politics," pp. 439-440, referring especially to the government's low expectation of performance on the part of the Tlahualilo Company cotton operation (which for various reasons had accomplished little, although equipped in a modern way for very efficient production). 21. In 1904 Manuel Marroquín y Rivera had been ordered to inspect the company's canal, specifically to discover whether the major limiting conditions in the company's 1888 concession had ever been complied with. His carefully worded report showed that no efforts had been made by the company to meet the requirements. Other steps had been taken, however, which assured the company's canal of a huge intake volume: see AAF, Concesiones, Rio Nazas, Caja 3b, expediente 17 (report ofJuly 30, 1904). On September 3, 1906 the Ministry of Communications and Public Works stated its position clearly when rejecting a protest by the company against the impending grant of a Rio Nazas water right to Frumencio Fuentes (here given as translated in USNA, Decimal File, 412.11 T54): "I beg to inform you that the statement which you make with reference to the rights of the Tlahualilo Company to use the river waters is not in accord with the facts as disclosed in the Department's records. The contract made with the Company is not couched in the broad terms which you claim: on the contrary, the Company's rights are limited by the dimensions of its canal and by the height of its [the canal's] i n t a k e . . . . " (and still further limited by the volumes specified in the reglamento of 1895, so that the company's canal could take 55.44 cubic meters' flow but no more). 22. See Meyers, "Politics," p. 437, and Kroeber, "La cuestión," pp. 437-439, for some of the facts illustrating the gradual assumption of control by British and American investors. 23. For events discussed below (from 1908 until the Mexican supreme court decision in

262

Notes to Pages 206-214

early 1911), see the similar account in Meyers, "Politics," pp. 443-452, drawn from close reading of a slightly different assortment of Foreign Office papers from those I saw. 24. Such a likelihood is not stressed in the British correspondence during the fall of 1908, partly because the U.S. State Department had not yet moved to issue firm instructions to Ambassador David Thompson (and did not do so until early in 1909). 25. See Reginald Tower to Foreign Office, Mexico, 11 and 25 August, 4 September, 12 October, and 3 December 1908, and 6 January 1909, reporting that he had not yet moved Ambassador Thompson to any concerted British-United States representation, and ending with the request for instructions as to what the Foreign Office now wished him to do (FO 126.204/29669, 31247, 32472, 37328, 41470, and 126.552/2721); and notes from Sir A. Hargreaves Brown (a Tlahualilo investor) to Foreign Office, 10 November and 2 December 1908 (FO 126.204/39428). 26. FO 126.204/31247 and 39428 of 18 September, 18 November and 9 December 1908, show Grey indicating that U.S. cooperation would be desirable but that strong representations would seem to be "premature." The British government was then merely asking that the Mexican government be kind enough to consider its current policies once more. 27. He had left on January 6, 1909 and returned for the March 24 session of the Nazas River Conference, which had first convened on the 19th. 28. See Actas de las sesiones celebradas en la Secretaría de Fomento para estudiar una mejor distribución de las aguas del Rio Naxas y modificar el Reglamento de 189} (Mexico, 1909), pp. 23-28. 29. Office of the Solicitor to Acting Secretary of State Robert Bacon, 26 December 1908 in USNA State, Decimal File, 17063. 30. The change and the hardening of view are seen in Sir Edward Grey to Ambassador James Bryce [at Washington, D.C.], 21 August 1909, FO 126.552/31589. In USNA State, Decimal File, 17063, is a whole series of papers showing Mallet-Prévost to Secretary of State Philander Knox, New York, September 1909, and other communications from Mallet-Prévost. Other notes, as with one by W. O. Dennis, in the State Department, 3 September 1909, looked forward to an advanced policy in coordination with Britain's Foreign Office. The new views did not mature until about the end of 1909. Meyers, "Politics," p. 449, reproduces a discordant opinion by Mitchell Innes of the British Embassy at Washington, dated 23 October 1909, pointing out that Britain's own policies in Egypt and India accorded almost exactly with those of the Mexican government at the time. 31. Coahuila, Periódico Oficial, 18 August 1909, printing telegrams from Mexico City of August 14. The reglamento, signed August 30, is in Durango, Periódico Oficial, 16 September 1909. See Ambassador David Thompson to Secretary of State, 14 August 1909, enclosing a Mexico Daily Record account of the same date. 32. The government was not seeking revocation of the company's water right that came to it with Hacienda de San Fernando. Its contention was, however, that only a certain amount of water could be claimed in that right. The company insisted on the ninety-five million cubic feet stated for the hacienda in the reglamento of 1891. The government, for its part, insisted that since the Reglamento of 1895 had gone into force, the hacienda's right was about fiftythree million cubic feet. 33. February 15, 1911, Fallo de la Tercera Sala, in Compañía del Tlahualilo contra el Gobierno Federal, ASCJ. 34. July 3,1912, Fallo de apelación de la Segunda Sala de la Cone, in the papen cited just above. 35. For one brief view of British and U.S. policy, see Henry Lane Wilson's secondhand report of the British minister to Mexico's interview with President Diaz and Minister Molina in early April 1910 (USNA State. Decimal File, 412.11 T54). 36. Brief but pointed discussion and names of all concerned are in Francis Mairs Huntington-Wilson, Memoirs of an Ex-Diplomat (Boston: B. Humphries; Toronto: The Ryerson Press, 1945), pp. 165, 182-183, 212. 37. Ibid., pp. 212-213. He names the Alsop case long pending with Chile; and, indeed, as soon as Philander Knox came in as secretary of state he repudiated earlier steps toward settlement of the Alsop case (which paralleled the Tlahualilo affair in that some U.S. citizens had

Notes to Pages 214-220

263

held investments in a foreign corporation). By bullying Chile, Knox avoided any payment by the U.S. government; then he forced arbitration; and finally, Knox won a heavy sum to be paid by Chile. See Fredrick B. Pike, Chile and the United States, 1880-1962: The Emergence of Chile's Social Crisis and the Challenge to United States Diplomacy (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1963), pp. 139-141. Huntington-Wilson, mentioned above, was a principal figure in the Alsop settlement. 38. Wilson's note of April 1910, as cited above. 39. Wilson to Secretary of State, 12 May 1910 (USNA State, Decimal FUe, 412.11 T54). 40. Expressed very well by the government's attorney in the action, Lie. Jorge Vera Estañol, in El Imparcial, 4 March 1911. 41. I do not know the antiquity of this view, but it had been clearly stated by Secretary of State John Hay to then Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary Powell Clayton [at Mexico City] on December 10, 1904, in the earlier period of U.S. interest in the Tlahualilo Company's affairs: "Nor has the Government of the United States ever conceded that any other government can by municipal regulation or on account of any stipulation other than by treaty prevent the United States from intervening for the protection of its citizens in a foreign country where they are entitled to such protection on principles of international law, for denials of justice" (USNA State, Diplomatic Instructions, Mexico, 1801-1906). What is similar in the 1904 and 1910-1911 positions is that both rely upon "international law" in an unspecified way. What is different is that in 1904 the U.S. private interests were on the point of being obliterated, which was far from the case in 1910-1911. Thus Hay's position in 1904 parallels the British policy mentioned above in the text, which Great Britain followed during early stages of the 1909-1911 controversy, before arriving at a harder policy. 42. Wilson did not specifically comment in this sense in his Diplomatic Episodes in Mexico, Belgium, and Chile (Garden City: Doubleday, Page & Co., 1927) on his role in negotiations after he took up the post in March 1910. He does say that the submissiveness of courts to the executive was "the most difficult problem the embassy had to deal with while I was in Mexico" (p. 200). 43. In 1905 an applicant received permission to pump underground waters in the Aguanaval drainage for irrigation: see Governor Miguel Cárdenas's Memoria to the Coahuila state legislature, 15 November 1905 (Saltillo, 1905), p. 11, discussing that concession and the need for much more widespread use of all sorts of methods for the capturing of waters. Such resort is mentioned by Matías Romero in 1898 ("the erection of pumping plants driven by wind, steam, gasoline, electricity, or even water power") in Notes on Mexico, p. 67. See also Wistano Luis Orozco, La cuestión agraria (Guadalajara: Tipografía de "El Regional," 1911), p. 30, for a brief reference. Katz, The Secret War, p. 57, mentions a German project to found a drilling company in Mexico in 1910 based on a concession allowing drilling for water, petroleum, and other substances. I do not know if pumping was common by 1910 (the year of the concession mentioned), whether from streams or springs or to recover subterranean water. 44. "Estudios de Pearson y Son para Almacenamiento de Aguas en el Cañón de Fernández, 1908-1912," in SRH 218.8-701, expediente 1. 45. Hernández to the minister of development, Mexico, 16 June 1909, in AAF, Concesiones, Río Nazas, Caja 3b, expediente 49. As an experienced engineer in service with the government, his objective was "para hacer efectivo un aprovechamiento económico, eficaz y completo de dichas aguas." 9. CONCLUSION 1. Coerver, Porfirian Interregnum, pp. 194-195, shows that a special section for agriculture was established in the ministry in August 1882. Soon after, the Dirección General de Estadística was founded within the ministry. 2. Randall, Mexico, pp. 185-186, showing per capita supply of basic foods falling while their prices rose rapidly, and discussing the Diaz policy of concentrating on aggregate economic performance rather than upon distribution of gains from economic growth. As noted above, per capita food production did not begin to fall until 1908.

264

Notes to Pages 220-227

3. See Moisés González Navarro, "La ideología de la revolución mexicana," Historia Mexicana 10 (April-June 1961): 629-630, summarizing the growing awareness of problems and last-minute measures decreed in 1911. See also the harsh judgment made in later years by one who had been part of the regime: Francisco Bulnes, El verdadero Díaz y la revolución mexicana (Mexico: E. Gómez de la Puente, 1920), pp. 216-218. Steven E. Sanderson, Agrarian Populism and the Mexican State: The Struggle for Land in Sonora (Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press, 1981), pp. 39-43, shows that producers for the domestic market tried to hold prices high, and that stated totals of food produced seem even worse when the alcoholic-beverage component is removed from the figures: "Less and less of domestic agricultural production was channeled to serve the needs o f . . . the populace" (pp. 42-43). It will be remembered that Keremitsis, La industria textil, sees the government's policy as steadily favoring cotton producers and their very high profit rate (as over against textile manufacturers' ability to compete in the domestic market), and that in 1906 this "import substitution" policy in favor of cotton culture resulted in the first Mexican cotton-cloth exports by the largest producers. See pp. 85 ff., 176-177, 181-189. See also Ruiz, Great Rebellion, p. 74. 4. Greenberg, Bureaucracy and Development, p. 10. 5. The above quotations are from Bernstein, Mining Industry, p. 30. See Coatsworth, Growth Against Development, who analyzes this same question, but from the economic and social viewpoints—that is, how the railroads affected certain sectors of the economy and the mobility of people. 6. Quoted by (among others) W. E. Carson, Mexico, the Wonderland of the South (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1909), p. 209, choosing a remark from James Creelman's interview with the president entitled "President Diaz, Hero of the Americas," printed in Pearson's Magazine 19 (March 1908): 241-277. 7. Allen Wells details the Molina family background and Olegario Molina's rise through a business career into landownership, then into political office as governor of Yucatán, and then into the position of minister of development. Molina first took a legal degree but later trained as a topographic engineer. See "Family Elite; in a Boom-and-Bust Economy: the Molinas and Peons of Porfirian Yucatán," Hispanic American Historical Review 62 (May 1982): 224-253. (I have not yet seen Gilbert M. Joseph, Revolution From Without: Yucatán, Mexico, and the United States, 1880-1924 [New York: Cambridge University Press, 1982]).

Bibliography

BIBLIOGRAPHIES AND GUIDES Fuentes de la historia contemporánea de México. Libros yfolletos. Edited by Luis González et al. S vols. Mexico: El Colegio de México, 1961-1962. Fuentes de la historia contemporánea de México. Periódicos y revistas. Edited by Stanley R. Ross. 2 vols. Mexico: El Colegio de México, 1965-1967. Ker, Anita M. Mexican Government Publications... 1821-1936. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1940. COLLECTIONS OF MANUSCRIPTS London. Public Record Office. Among Foreign Office papers what was seen here was correspondence between the F.O. and the post at Mexico City, with valuable notes inscribed by people in the Foreign Office itself. Like the U.S. diplomatic papers, these contain valuable digests and extracts of pertinent public documents and correspondence bearing on current issues. Mexico. Secretaría de Recursos Hidráulicos. Archivo de Aguas Federales [also known as Archivo de Aprovechamientos de Aguas Federales, from the name of the division that formerly held this archive]. There is heavy overlap with papers in the secretariat's Archivo General, but this collection contains most of the many applications for water use from "federal" streams. Some files contain all existing water-rights records dating back to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The secretariat was recently renamed, as Secretaría de Agricultura y Recursos Hidráulicos. Mexico. Secretaría de Recursos Hidráulicos. Archivo General. This collection contains, among many other kinds of materials, the files of inspection reports, reglamentos, and other papers relating to specific rivers and streams. Mexico. Suprema Corte de Justicia. Archivo. This collection contains many printed items such as the journal Semanario Judicial de la Federación) as well as voluminous court records. The one file used here was that of the Compañía del Tlahualilo versus Mexico's federal government. Washington, D.C. The National Archives of the United States. Within the record group containing papers of the U.S. Department of State, some use was made of pre-1906 records, and more use of post-1906 diplomatic instructions to ambassadors at Mexico City and contemporary correspondence between the department and the post at Mexico City. NEWSPAPERS (aU published at Mexico City) Diario del Hogar

265

266

Bibliography

Economista Mexicano El Impartial El Pais

PRINTED PUBLIC DOCUMENTS Campeche. Governor. Informe. 1903-1910. Chihuahua. Governor. Informe. 1909. Coahuila. Periódico Oficial. Durango. Periódico Oficial. Durango. Governor. Memoria. 1906-1908. Mexico. Comisión Internacional de Límites entre México y los Estados Unidos. Sección Mexicana. Monumentación de Bancos en el Río Bravo del Norte. 2a Serie... 59 a 89. Años de 1910 a 1912. 1912. Mexico. Congress. Cámara de Diputados. Diario de los Debates de la Cámara de Diputados. ... Mexico. President. Informe. These semiannual messages appeared in official gazettes and were printed separately each year and also in volumes that gather as many as four years of messages in one book. Mexico. Secretaría de Fomento, Colonización é Industria. Actas de las sesiones celebradas en la Secretaria de Fomento para estudiar una mejor distribución de las aguas del Río Nozas y modificar el Reglamento de 1895. 1909. Mexico. Secretaría de Fomento, Colonización é Industria. Memoria. Annual. Mexico. Secretaría de Instrucción Pública. Plan de estudios. 1902. Mexico. Universidad Nacional de México. Memoria, 1910-1912. 1913. Yucatán. Governor. Mensajes del gobernador constitucional c. Lic. Olegario Molina, al Congreso de Yucatán, 1902-1906. 1906. BOOKS, PAMPHLETS, AND PERIODICAL ARTICLES Anderson, Rodney D. Outcasts in Their Own Land: Mexican Industrial Workers, 1906-1911. DeKalb, 111.: Northern Illinois University Press, 1976. Avila, Francisco A. Durango. Durango, 1949. Baker, Richard D. Judicial Review in Mexico: A Study of the Amparo Suit. Austin, Tex.: University of Texas Press, 1971. Baz, Eduardo. Algunas cuestiones jurídicas sobre concesiones de aguas. Mexico: Imprenta y Encuademación de Ireneo Paz, 1910. Bazant, Jan. Historia de la deuda exterior de México (1823-1946). Mexico: El Colegio de México, 1968. Beezley, William H. Insurgent Governor: A braham González and the Mexican Revolution m Chihuahua. Lincoln, Neb.: University of Nebraska Press, 1973. Bernstein, Marvin D. The Mexican Mining Industry, 1890-1950: A Study of the Interaction of Politics, Economics, and Technology. Albany, N.Y.: State University of New York, 1964. Bigot, Raoul. Notes économiques sur le Méxique. París, 1907. Branch, H. N. "Concessions: a Brief Analysis." In The Mexican Year Book, 1922-24, edited by Robert G. Cleland, pp. 200-215. Los Angeles: Mexican Year-Book Publishing Company, 1924. Braniff, Oscar. Observaciones sobre el fomento agrícola considerado como base para la ampliación del crédito agrícola en México. Mexico: Imprenta Lacaud, 1910. Bulnes, Francisco. El verdadero Díaz y la revolución mexicana. Mexico: E. Gómez de la Puente, 1920. Cámara Zavala, Gonzalo. Reseña histórica de la industria henequenera de Yucatán. Mérida, Yucatán: Imprenta Oriente, 1936. Carreño, Alberto María. Lic. D. Olegario Molina (sobretiro de "Los Tribunales" de mayo de 1925). Mexico: Imprenta Victoria, 1925. Carson, W. E. Mexico, the Wonderland of the South. New York: Macmillan Co., 1909.

Bibliography

267

Coatsworth, John H. "Anotaciones sobre la producción de alimentos durante el poriíriato." Historia Mexicana 26 (October-December 1976): 167-187. . Growth Against Development: The Economic Impact of Railroads in Porfirian Mexico. DeKalb, 111.: Northern Illinois University Press, 1981. . "Obstacles to Economic Growth in Nineteenth-Century Mexico." American Historical Review 83 (February 1978): 80-100. Coerver, Don M. The Porfirian Interregnum: The Presidency of Manuel González of Mexico, 1880-1884. Fort Worth, Tex.: Texas Christian University Press, 1979. Cordova, Arnaldo. La ideología de la revolución mexicana. La formación del nuevo orden. Mexico: Ediciones Era, 1973. Covarrubias, José. Varios informes sobre tierras y colonización. Mexico: Tipografía de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1912. Creelman, James. "President Diaz, Hero of the Americas." Pearson's Magazine 19 (March 1908): 241-277. Delorme, Robert. The Role of Foreign Investments in the Development Process: The Case of Mexico, 1884-1911. Tempe, Ariz.: Arizona State University, 1975. Enríquez Coyro, Ernesto. £/ Tratado entre Mexico y los Estados Unidos de América sobre Ríos Internacionales. Una Lucha Nacional de Noventa Años. 2 vols. Mexico: Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, 1975. Foster, John W. Diplomatic Memoirs. 2 vols. Boston, New York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1909. García Martínez, Bernardo. "La Comisión Geográfico-Exploradora." Historia Mexicana 24 (April-June 1975): 485-555. Gayol, Roberto. Dos problemas de vital importancia para México. La colonización y el desarrollo de la irrigación. Estudios preliminares. Mexico: F. Montes de Oca, 1906. González Navarro, Moisés. La colonización en México, 1877-1910. Mexico, 1960. . "La ideología de la revolución mexicana." Historia Mexicana 10 (April-June 1961): 628-636. . El Porfiriato. La Vida Social. Historia Moderna de México, edited by Daniel Cosío Villegas, vol. 4. Mexico: Editorial Hermes, 1957. . "México en una laguna." Historia Mexicana 4 (April-June 1955): 506-522. González Roa, Fernando. El aspecto agrario de la revolución mexicana. Mexico: PodeT Ejecutivo (Dirección de Talleres Gráficos), 1919. Greenberg, Martin H. Bureaucracy and Development: a Mexican Case Study. Lexington, Mass.: Heath Lexington Books, 1970. Hale, Charles A. Mexican Liberalism in the Age of Mora, 1821-1853. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1968. Hansen, Roger D. The Politics of Mexican Development. Baltimore, Md.: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1971. Hart, John M. Anarchism and the Mexican Working Class, 1860-1931. Austin, Tex.: University of Texas Press, 1978. Hernandez, Rafael L. i Los contratos concesiones de agua que otorga el poder administrativo, importan existencias de un derecho civil irrevocable, susceptible de adquirirse por prescripción, dotado de toda clase de acciones civilest Monterrey: Imprenta de R. Díaz, 1900. Herrera, Trinidad. Report on First Agricultural Congress, September 8, 1904. Boletín de la Secretaría de Fomento 4 (1905): 1453-1468. Herrera y Lasso, José. Apuntes sobre irrigación. Notas sobre su organización económica en el extranjero y en el pah. Una posible solución al problema de la irrigación que facilita el desdesarrollo sin que resulte favorecido el capitalismo agrícola. Mexico: Librería de Murguía, 1919. Hu-DeHart, Evelyn. "Development and Rural Rebellion: Pacification of the Yaquis in the Late Porfiriato." Hispanic American Historical Review 54 (February 1974): 72-93. Hulen, Bertram D. Inside the Department of State. New York, London: Whittlesey House, McGraw-Hill Book Co., 1939. Hundley, Norris A., Jr. Dividing the Waters: A Century of Controversy between the United States and Mexico. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1966.

268

Bibliography

. Water and the West: The Colorado River Compact and the Politics of Water in the American West. Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press, 1975. Huntington-Wilson, Francis Main. Memoirs of an Ex-Diplomat. Boston: B. Humphries; Toronto: Ryerson Press, 1945. Katz, Friedrich. Deutschland, Diaz, und Die Mexikanische Revolution. Die Deutsche Politik in Mexiko, 1870-1920. Berlin: Deutscher Verlag der Wissenschaften, 1964. . The Secret War in Mexico: Europe, the United States, and the Mexican Revolution. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1981. Keesing, Donald B. "Structural Change in Early Development: Mexico's Changing Industrial and Occupational Structure from 1895 to 1950." Journal of Economic History 29 (December 1969): 716-738. Keremitsis, Dawn. La industria textil mexicana en el siglo xix. Mexico: SepSetentas, 1973. Kroeber, Clifton B. "La cuestión del Nazas hasta 1913." Historia Mexicana 20 (April 1971): 428-456. "La propiedad rústica." Boletín de la Secretaria de Fomento 4 (1905): 1068-1069. Lejeune, Louis. Au Méxique. Paris: Cerf, 1892. Limantour, José Yves. Apuntes sobre mi vida pública. Mexico: Editorial Porrúa, 1965. Madero, Francisco I. Estudio de la conveniencia de la construcción de una presa en el Cañón de Fernández para almacenar ¡as aguas del Rio Nazas. San Pedro, Coahuila: Tipografía "Benito Juárez," 1907. . La sucessión presidencial en 1910. El partido nacional democrático. San Pedro, Coahuila, 1908. Marroquín y Rivera, Manuel. "Proyecto de ley para el fraccionamiento de terrenos" [dated May 1911]. Memoria de la Secretaria de Fomento, 1910-1911, pp. 223-225. Mexico, 1911. . Proyecto de reformas al reglamento para distribución de aguas del Nazas y exposición de motivos. Informe presentado a la Secretaría de Comunicaciones. Mexico: Tipografía de la Oficina Impresora del Timbre, 1897. Martin, Percy F. Mexico of the Twentieth Century. 2 vols. New York: Dodd, Mead, & Co.; London: Edward Arnold, 1907. McCaleb, Walter F. Present and Past Banking in Mexico. London and New York: Harper & Brothers, 1920. . The Public Finances of Mexico. New York and London: Harper & Brothers, 1921. Meyers, Wiliam K. "Politics, Vested Rights, and Economic Growth in Porfirian Mexico: the Company Tlahualilo in the Comarca Lagunera, 1885-1911." Hispanic American Historical Review 57 (August 1977): 425-454. Mills, Anson. My Story. Edited by C. H. Claudy. Washington, D.C. (privately printed), 1918. Molina Enriquez, Andres. Los grandes problemas nacionales. Mexico: Imprenta de A. Carranza é Hijos, 1909. . Proyecto de ley de aguasfederales para los Estados Unidos Mexicanos. Mexico: Tipografía de la Sociedad Agrícola Mexicana, 1906. Mosk, Sanford A. Industrial Revolution in Mexico. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1950. Orive Alba, Adolfo. La política de irrigación en Mexico: historia, realizaciones, resultados agrícolas, económicas y sociales; perspectivas. Mexico: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1960. Orozco, Wistano Luis. La cuestión agraria. Guadalajara: Tipografía y Fototipia de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1909. Palacios, Leopoldo. El problema de la irrigación. Mexico: Imprenta y Fototipia de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1909. Palavicini, Félix F. La enseñanza técnica (industrial y agrícola). Mexico: I. Lara, 1908. . Las escuelas técnicas. Mexico: "Fiat Lux," 1909. Pérez de Yarto, Antenor. El agua en sus relaciones con el derecho internacional, constitucional, administrativo y civil. Mexico: Oficina Tipográfica de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1899. Perry, Laurens B. Juárez and Díaz: Machine Politics in Mexico. DeKalb, 111.: Northern Illinois University Press, 1978. Peust, Otto. Algo sobre la evolución agrícola; réplica... Mexico: Tipografía y Litografía de Müller Hermanos, 1908.

Bibliography

269

. La defensa nacional de México. Mexico: Imprenta Central, 1907. Pike, Fredrick B. Chile and the United States, 1880-1962: The Emergence of Chile's Social Crisis and the Challenge to United States Diplomacy. Notre Dame, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1963. Pletcher, David M. "The Fall of Silver in Mexico, 1870-1910, and Its Effect on American Investments. "Journal of Economic History 18 (Spring 1958): SS-55. . Rails, Mines, and Progress: Seven American Promoters tn Mexico, 1867-1911. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1958. Powell, T . G. "Mexican Intellectuals and the Indian Question, 1876-1911." Hispanic American Historical Review 48 (February 1968): 19-36. P. Piña, Francisco de. "La Comisión Geográfíco-Exploradora." Boletín de la Sociedad Mexicana de Geografía e Estadística 5 (1909): 290 ff. Priestley, Herbert I. "Land Legislation in Mexico." In The Mexican Year Book 1922-24, edited by Robert G. Cleland, pp. 217-253. Los Angeles: The Mexican Year-Book Publishing Co., 1924. Programa del Partido Liberal. St. Louis, Mo., 1906. Purcell, William L. Frontier Mexico, 1875-1894: Letters of William L. Purcell. Edited by Anita Purcell. San Antonio, Tex.: Naylor Co., 1963. Raat, W. Dirk. "The Antipositivist Movement in Prerevolutionary Mexico, 1892-1911. "Journal of Inter-American Studies and World Affairs 19 (February 1977): 83-98. . "Ideas and Society in Don Porfirio's Mexico." The Americas 30 (July 1973): 32-53. . "Leopoldo Zea and Mexican Positivism: a Reappraisal." Hispanic American Historical Review 48 (February 1968): 1-18. . "Los intelectuales, el positivismo y la cuestión indígena." Historia Mexicana 20 (January-March 1971): 412-427. . Revoltosos: Mexico's Rebels in the United States, 1903-1923. College Station, Tex.: Texas A & M University Press, 1981. Raigosa, Genaro. La evolución agrícola. Mexico, 1902. Randall, Laura R. R. A Comparative Economic History of Latin America. Vol. 1: Mexico. Ann Arbor, Mich.: University Microfilms International, 1977. Reynolds, Clark W. The Mexican Economy: Twentieth-Century Structure and Growth. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1970. Rice, Jacqueline Ann. "The Porfirian Political Elite: Life Patterns of the Delegates to the 1892 Unión Liberal Convention." Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Los Angeles, 1979. Riquelme, Félix. Remarks. Boletín de la Sociedad Mexicana de Geografía e' Estadística (1894), pp. 375-377. Romero, Matías. Geographical and Statistical Notes on Mexico. New York and London: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1898. Romo, Basilio. Algunas observaciones hechas en el país para determinar las cantidades de agua empleadas en los riegos. Junio de 1908. Mexico: Imprenta y Fototipia de la Secretaria de Fomento, 1913. Rosenzweig, Fernando. "El desarrollo económico de México de 1877 a 1911." El Trimestre Económico 32 (July-September 1965): 405-454. Rouaix, Pastor. El fraccionamiento de la propiedad en los estados fronterizos. Durango: Imprenta del Gobierno, 1911. . Geografía de Durango. Tacubaya: Talleres Gráficos de la Secretaria de Agricultura y Fomento, 1929. Ruiz, Ramón Eduardo. The Great Rebellion: Mexico, 1905-1924. New York and London: W. W. Norton & Co., 1980. . Labor and the Ambivalent Revolutionaries: Mexico, 1911-1923. Baltimore, Md.: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1976. Sanderson, Steven E. Agrarian Populism and the Mexican State: The Struggle for Land in Sonora. Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press, 1981. Sands, William Franklin, in collaboration with Joseph M. Lalley. Our Jungle Diplomacy. Chapel Hill, N.C.: University of North Carolina Press, 1944. Schwarz, Carl. "Judges Under the Shadow: Judicial Independence in the United States and

270

Bibliography

Mexico." California Western International Law Journal S (May 1973): 260-332. Sentiés, Francisco de P. La organización política de México: el partido demócrata. Mexico: Innocencio Arrióla, 1908. Sinkin, Richard N. The Mexican Reform, 1855-1876: A Study in Liberal Nation-Building. Austin, Tex.: University of Texas Press, 1979. Spicer, Edward H. Potam, a Yaqui Village in Sonora. American Anthropological Association, Memoir 77. Menasha, Wis.: American Anthropological Association, 1954. . The Yaquis: A Cultural History. Tucson, Ariz.: University of Arizona Press, 1980. Sykes, Godfrey. The Colorado Delta. American Geographical Society, Special Publication no. 19. Washington, D.C. and New York: American Geographical Society, 1937. Timm, Charles A. The International Boundary Commission, United States and Mexico. University of Texas Publication no. 4134. Austin, Tex.: University of Texas, 1941. Tischendorf, Alfred. Great Britain and Mexico in the Era of Porfirio Diaz. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1961. Torres, Antonio F. "Descripción histórica relativa a los trabajos de la Comisión Científica de Sonora desde su creación," [dated June 30, 1909]. Memoria de la Secretaria de Fomento, 1909-1910, anexos, pp. 69-79. Mexico, 1910. . Report [dated December 31, 1910]. Memoria de la Secretaria de Fomento, 19101911, pp. 222-223. Mexico. 1911. Vallarta, Ignacio L. Los afluentes de los ríos navegables y flotables. Mexico: Oficina Tipo gráfica de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1897. Vanderwood, Paul J. Disorder and Progress: Bandits, Police, and Mexican Development. Lincoln, Neb.: University of Nebraska Press, 1981. Vera, Manuel R. Organización del servicio federal de la hidráulica agrícola é industrial. Mexico: Imprenta y Fototipia de la Secretaría de Fomento, 1910. Vemon, Raymond. The Dilemma of Mexico's Development: The Roles of the Private and Public Sectors. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1965. Viadas, Lauro. "Medidas para favoreecer el desarrollo agrícola del país. Informe.. . . " Boletín de la Secretaria de Fomento 4 (1905): 1603-1647. Wells, Alien. "Family Elites in a Boom-and-Bust Economy: the Molinas and Peóns of Porfirian Yucatán." Hispanic American Historical Review 62 (May 1982): 224-253. Wilson, Henry Lane. Diplomatic Episodes in Mexico, Belgium, and Chile. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, Page & Co., 1927. Womack, John, Jr. "The Mexican Economy During the Revolution, 1910-1920: Historiography and Analysis." Marxist Perspectives 1 (Winter 1978): 80-123.

Index

Acequia Madre, canal, 149 Agricultural credit, federal commission fails to prescribe for, 193 Agricultural station, to be approximated in new agricultural schools, 38 Agriculture: analyses of and recommendations, chaps. 2, 3; analyses of "innovative" and "conservative" varieties, 58; analyses shifting from production to productivity, 40; census, mentioned, 229; census undertaken for, 191-192; cooperation recommended for, 51; commercial, 10; commercial, attracting investors, 40; commercial, gains in, 22; commercial, near northern boundary and beyond, 152-153; commercial, negative effect of gold standard upon, 2627; commercial, prospering, 18; credit and colonization for, 246 n. 26; credit aspect considered, 58-59; credit facilities discussed, 79; credit for, 43, 79; credit for, desire for government expansion of, 43; "developmental" and "efficiency" analyses of, 35 ff.; Diaz overlooks small scale, 231 ff.; dry-farming techniques recommended, 37; experiment stations created for, 188; extension services for, 79; as lagging economic sector,

22-23; Laguna District, inefficiency of in, 202; large properties seen as beneficial for, 23; Law of 1909 for, 190; Ministry of, advocated, 57; Ministry of, suggested, 66-67; mission to United States concerning, 259 n. 21; National Agricultural School, new plan for, 188; national policy for, 3; need for experimentation, 43; new policies for, 186 ff.; objectives for, 85; Perez de Yarto opinion of urgency of, 165; reshaping of National School of, 187 ; rising importance of, 193-194; rural credit plan of 1908 for, 176-177; "stability" concept for, 35; statistics scarce, 52; styles of analysis very little different, 41, 38-39; subsistence, weakness of, 27-28; tardiness of Diaz in recognizing lag in, 231; too few entrepreneurs in, 237; total of irrigable land for, 76; as weak sector of economy, 11

Agronomics, advocating encouragement of rancho agriculture, 22 Agronomists, 230; future role of, 234; in new educational plan, 188 Aguanaval River. See Rio AlcabaJa, gradual termination of, 240 n. 26; See also Customs Aldasoro, Andres, 21 271

272

Index

Alsop case, 262-263 n. 37 Amador, Carlos, 251 n. 3 Amparo, 124; writ of, 89 Arbitration, refused, 213 Army: active in Yaqui country, 144 ff.; campaigns against Yaqui Indians, 253 n. 24 Atistrain, Federico, 259 n. 21 Atoyac River. See Rio Avila, Joaquín: in Culiacán survey, 253 n. 18; in Lerma and San Juan del Rio surveys, 252 n. 13 Aznar y Cano, Tomás, 52-53 Bancos, 150 ff.; progress and treaty for, 156 Bancroft Library, xi "Bankers' project" for irrigation development, 85 Banking: new programs needed for, 34; policies for, 13 Banks, in Laguna District, 196 Beltrán y Puga, Fernando, 161; actions as Mexican Commissioner in boundary commission of, 153 ff.; judgment of, mentioned, 229; service resumed later by, 233; states criteria advanced for that day, 135-137; survey of Río San Juan del Rio by, 130 ff.; surveys Rio Aguanaval, 121 ff. Biblioteca de la Secretaría de Hacienda, xi Biblioteca México, x Bigot, Raoul, 47 Bimetallic system, deserted, 25-26 Bimetallism, and gold standard, 225 Bond issue at New York, for new government institution, 176 Borrowing, government's difficulty abroad, 27 Boundary commission, U.S.-Mexico, established, 150 Bourgeoisie, Mexican, defined, 17 Braniff, Oscar, 259 n. 27; agricultural analysis by, 78-81; desire for governmental roles in agriculture, 43-45 Budget, in balance, 23 Bureaucracy: continuing development of, 29, 30; interagency conflict not

found in, 228-229; Marroquín y Rivera as example of growth of, 228; proliferation of, 221; stimulated by railroads, 240 n. 22 Businesses, smaller, 7, 10, 15 Caja de Préstamos para Obras de Irrigación y Fomento de la Agricultura, S.A., 34, 207; adverse opinion of, 257 n. 16; brief history of, 176-177; example of "mixed" management, 224; recommended by junta, 259 n. 27; skewed and failing policy of, 177 Calles, Plutarco Elias: irrigation policies of, mentioned, 237; strong resource policy of, 225 Campeche State, 85; governors' views, 52-53 Cañada de los Once Pueblos, survey of, 118 ff. Canals: near Potam 1891, 253 n. 27; openings into, 114-115; Rio Nazas conditions of, 197-198 Cañón de Fernández: abandoned as site for Rio Nazas dam, 159; dam suggested for by Madero in, 203 Cantarranas River. See Rio Capital, flight of, 4 Capitalism: no desire to revive laissezfaire version of, 86; of the state, 17 Cárdenas, Lázaro: Laguna conflict quieted during regime of, 204; reform by, mentioned, 237 Cárdenas family, in Aguanaval conflict, 252 n. 6 Casasús, Joaquín de, 259 n. 27 Cattle ranches, 12 Census: agricultural, mentioned, 229; agricultural, preparations for, 191192; of public lands, desired, 33 Centenario Dam, 133 Centennial of national independence, celebration for, 184 Central government: acquires riverbank jurisdiction, 172; appropriation by for irrigation, 76; and banking, 241 n. 41; defense in Tlahualilo suit by, 211 ff.; Diaz's advance to supremacy of, chap. 9; domain over rivers advocated, 99-100; emphasis

Index on practical policy bases by, 230231; expectation of river management by, 219; gaining power, 240 n. 30; inability to borrow abroad, 26; increasing tension with Tlahualilo Company, 204 ff.; as instrument for economic change, 4, 8; jurisdiction attacked in court, 251 n. 5; management of Rio Nazas by, 195 ff.; and market participation by, 242 n. 55; "mixed" management beginnings in, 224; overlooks legal difSculties, 168 ff. ; persistent aspects of activities by, 232 ff. ; policy for foreign investment of, 12-13; power over economy of, 10-11; power over states increasing, 58-59; powers of in Waters Law of 1910, 177-180; preeminence of in economic policies, 8-9; proliferation of economic policies by, 219 ff.; reasons for small achievements after 1905 by, 183-184; Rio Nazas jurisdiction gained by, 203; river jurisdiction questioned by Ibarrola, 118; self-image for the public of, 185; serious question as to rivers' jurisdiction of, 109 ff.; stronger control of railroads, 19; uncertain riven' jurisdiction of, 164 ff.; waters policy for, 83 ff. Chamizal boundary controversy, 155 Chaparaco Dam, 118 Chapultepec Park, Mexico City, expenditure for, 184 Chemistry, expansion of instruction in, 190 Chihuahua State: economic interests in Laguna District of, 196; mining in, 25; two land-distribution programs in, 192 Científicos, 17; limited usefulness of name for, 242 n. 52 Ciudad Juárez: engineer stationed at, 149; headquarters of Mexican section of boundary commission, 154; name changed from Paso del Norte 1886, 254 n. 42 Civil Code: of 1870, 166; of 1884, 166; of law, 13 Civil engineer, 230

273 Civil liberty: overlooked, 236; set aside, 241 n. 42 Civil rights, fading, 17 Coahuila State, 12, 92 ff.; governor in Rio Aguanaval controversy, 123124; politics of, mentioned, 195 Coalition, political: conglomerate nature of, 14-15, 29; formation of, 7, 9-10, 13-14 Coal productions, beginning, 24 Coeficiente de riego, 98; assumption for Río San Juan del Río zone, 132; Laguna district knowledge of, 203; national estimate for, 76; Rio Aguanaval estimate of, 127, 128; for Rio Nazas, 105, 261 n. 17; in Río San Juan, 252 n. 13; state for Laguna district, 251 n. 4 "Colonial" economy, 6 Colonization, 50; Banco Colonizador suggested for, 259 n. 28; in "developmental" analysis, 42; fading from Diaz's estimation as useful policy, 33; planned for Rio Yaqui lands, 254 n. 37; policy for, 21; and rural credit, 246 n. 26; seen in different methods, 37; still hoping for, 178 Colonization policy, consistency of, and Laws of 1883, 1894, 23 Colorado River, 152 ff. See also Rio Colorado Colorado State, 149, 150, 15 Comarca Lagunera. See Laguna District Comisión Científica de Sonora, 144 ff. Comisión del Rio Lerma, 138; by 19041905, 252 n. 13 Comisión del Rio San Lorenzo, 140141 Comisión Especial Reglamentadora de los Ríos Atoyac y Nexapa, 111-112, 115, 161, 250 n. 29 Comisión GeogTáfíco-Exploradora, 33; census of arable Laguna lands by, 192; forestry activities of, 190; incomplete national mapping by, 233; recommends Guatimapé tunnel, 159; in Yaqui country, 144 ff. Comisión Inspectora del Rio Nazas, 103, 106, 159,195; as agency of con-

214

Index

trol, 225; measuring water constantly, 261 n. 17; oversight of Rio Aguanaval by, 129 Comisión Nacional de Irrigación. See National Commission of Irrigation Comisión Reguladora del Río Atoyac, 112 ff. Commercial Agriculture, 12 Common good, Tlahualilo controversy issue of, 210-212 Communications, "general avenues of": defined, 169; in 1902 law, 172; redefined, 172 Compañía Agrícola de Chapala, concession for, 138 Compañía Agrícola, Industrial y Colonizadora Limitada del Tlahualilo, S.A. See Tlahualilo Company Compañía Algodonera de la Laguna, 249 n. 22 Compañía de Guanajuato, 116 Concession: to Richardson Construction Company, 253 n. 31; sought by González Marron, 249 n. 23; to Tlahualilo Company, 94-95; of water right, 89 Concessions, federal: in plan for water sales, 38; in public streams, 33; redefined in Law of June 6, 1894, 170 Condemnation of property, 58 Congress: authorizes gold standard, 26; difficulty in defining federal water jurisdiction for, 167 ff.; feels Rio Aguanaval controversy, 129; revision of constitutional Article 72 by, 203 Conservative party, 1 Constitution of 1857, 4, 16; new wording in Article 72, 256 n. 13; prohibits alcabala, 240 n. 26; revision of Article 72 of, 167, 173 ff., 203; revision of provision for waters jurisdiction, 110

Constitution of 1917, government's responsibility for problems advanced by, 222 Contradictions: economic decision making unveiling of, 224, chap. 9; of interest in Olegario Molina's roles, 226-228

Cooperation, agricultural improvement by way of, 51 Corral, Ramón, 144, 145 Cotton: cultivation of, 92; in Laguna District, 196 ff.; rising production and shift of location of, 11 Cotton industry, 22, 159; coeficiente de riego now known for Laguna District, 203; favored over textile industry, 248 n. 4; Laguna District waterneed estimates for, 216; Purcell and Terrazas interests in, 249 n. 22; rapid expansion of exploitation of, 196 ff. County agent training suggested, 37 Covarrubias, José, 45; on irrigation and communication, 54-55 Credit: of Mexico's government abroad, 10; unavailable to inefficient hacendados, 40 Credit plan for small farmers, failed, 177 Creel, Enrique: grant of land to Tarahumara Indians by, 192; irrigation policy suggestion by, 58; optimism of, 52; private interests of, 227 Creelman, James, 264 n. 6; Diaz's statement to, 224 Criminal code of law, 13 Crops: future choice among, 234-235; priority choices among, avoided, 82 Cuesta Gallardo, Manuel, concessionaire, 138 Culiacán, headquarters of Comisión del Río San Lorenzo at, 140-141 Culiacán River. See Rio Culiacán Currency, 7, 8; reforms, tardy, 9 Curtis, Mallet-Prévost, and Colt, 205, 213 Customs barriers, internal, 9 Customs-tax: internal, terminated, 24; policy, 11; reforms of, 13 Cyaniding process in metals refining, in use, 24-25 Dams: of Chaparaco, 118; in drainage of Río San Juan del Rio, 131 ff.; earth type recommended, 246 n. 29; estimate of cost for Rio Yaqui, 254 n. 37; field course in construction

Index for, 190; Madero suggestion (¡n Río Nazas) for, 203; of masonry (manipostería) recommended, 134; Mexican comparative inexperience in building of, 235; poor condition in Laguna district of, 202; projected for Rio Nazas, 158 ff.; proposed for Eagle Pass, Texas, 255 n. 50; for Rio Nazas, 72; on Rio Nazas, Pearson contract for, 203 ff.; Rio Nazas project left inactive for, 216; Rio Nazas variety of, 198; on Río San Juan del Rio, 10, 252 n. 8; San Fernando, 101; site location considerations, 7778; site location criteria for, 81 ff.; site location discussion, 72; site location for, 63; storage requirement for, 80 Darwinism, as element of cientifico viewpoint, 17 Debt: foreign, 10; foreign, reasons for growth of, 244 n. 80; national, funding of, 13; national, policies for, 1920; national, refunded, 23; public, 6 Debt payment, repudiation of, 2 Dedos, 255 n. 52 Democracy, in Mexican life, deferred by Diaz regime, 16-17 Departamento de Asuntos Agrarios y de Colonización, x Departamento de Bosques, 190-191 Departamento del Distrito Federal, archives of, 157 Dependence of Mexico upon United States, 34-35; to be avoided, 83; Diaz's disregard for, 225-226; Diaz's reduction of, 226 Depressions of 1907, complications from, 244 n. 81 "Developmental" analysis, 36 ff.; seen in policies of 1910-1911, 187 Development Ministry. See Ministry of Development Diario Oficial de la Federación, and waters concessions, 180 Díaz, Porfirio, 3; accumulation of wealth as criterion of actions by, 237; aims stated, 241 n. 44; authorization of Rio Atoyac study by, 112; balance of regional policy emphases

275 by, 230-231; contracts with Pearson for high dam, 203; desire for federal control of education by, 224; early policies of, 7-8; economic emphases in messages to Congress, 31-33; as economic nationalist, 29, 225-226; economic policies discussed, chap. 9; economic policies expanded by, 218 ff.; economic policies, success and failure of, 16; favoritism for some persons by, 22-23, 29; final message to Congress of, 48; future policy emphases prefigured by programs of, 232; indemnity refusal by, 207; lack of interest in uniformity of ideas of, 16-17; lack of policies for poor peoples' benefit of, 23; Liberalism of, defined, 17; negotiations with Tlahualilo Company by, 207 ff.; new urgency in wide new economic view and programs of, 35; policies for budget, banking, and money by, 19-20; preeminent emphasis on government control in economy of, 32; reasonable waters policy of, 236; road program not pursued by, 231; sees agriculture as economic key, 33; self-image of regime of, 185; shifts to policies for quick results, 34; small farmer (ranchero) overlooked by, 231-232; specific economic emphases by, 231; stern defense of water laws by, 226; style of policy making of, 221-222; tardiness in recognizing agricultural lag by, 231; temporary permission to Tlahualilo Company by, 212-213; and universal education objective, 226 Dirección Agraria: creation of, 186; responsibilities of, 188 Dirección General de Agricultura: agricultural census by, 191-192; creation of, 188; forestry and reforestation responsibilities of, 190-191 Dirección General de Estadística, 263 n. 1 Diversification, economic, 219-220 ff. Division of powers, federal-states, 173 Doheny, Edward L., developing petro-

216

Index

leum, 28-29 Domínguez, Angel M., 58 Drainage-basin planning, 162-163; making headway, 140; viewpoint, 56-57 Dry farming, 51; techniques recommended, 37 Durango State, 91, 195; governor in Rio Aguanaval controversy, 124; Rio Nazas policy protested by, 204; special conference requested and gained by, 205 ff. Eagle Pass, Texas, hope for dam at, 255 n. 50 Economic development: analyses shifting before Revolution, 41; atmosphere favorable to, 16; central government policy for, 12-13; difficulties restraining, 25-26; implications of Tlahualilo controversy for, 215 ff.; increasing urgency of, 121, 218; lack of master planning for, 16; Laguna district boom in, 217; Laguna district desire for, 200 ff.; new focus on, 31; slow in Juárez and Lerdo times, 239 n. 13 Economic growth (economic expansion), 218; atmosphere favorable to, 16; as Diaz criterion, 237; probable Molina interest, 228; relationship with ideas of economic development, 31 ff. Economic nationalism, Mexican beginnings of, 244 n. 79 Education. See Schools "Efficiency" analyses, 36 ff. Ejidos lands, 186; of Yaqui communities, 147 Electricity: commencement of instruction in, 190; importance in mining of, 24-25; mutual dependence with mining industry, 25 Electric power, policies for, 21 Elites: national, and railroads, 240 n. 22; question of expansion of, 227 El Paso, Texas, efforts for river works by, 149 El Paso Valley, 149 Enabling laws, 4

Engineering: basis for fieldwork in, 230; education still incipient for, 230; future expertise in, 234-235; hampered by lacks of information concerning, 233-234; too few practitioners of, 236 "Engineers' project" for irrigation development, 85 Erosion, 55 Escobar, Rómulo, and agricultural schools, 38 Escuela Nacional de Ingenieros, new curriculum in, 189-190 Expendios, sale of emergency food stocks in, 182 Exploration, Law of May 16, 1906 (water) encouragement of, 173 Export economy, of Mexico, 26-27 Exports, 5 Factories, hopes for, 5 Famine, 35 Farmers, small, 3, 5-6, 15-16, 39, 55, 56; disfavored by Diaz regime, 2223; welfare desired for, 55 Farming, seen as urgent need in Diaz's judgment, 32-33 Farming of coinage to contractors, 9 Favoritism, by President Diaz, 10 Federal District (Distrito Federal): site of early priority decisions in, 223224; water policies intensified in, 89 ff. Federalists, 4 Fernández Cué, Baltasar, in Rio San Juan del Rio survey, 252 n. 12 Fernandez Leal, Manuel, makes Reglamento of 1891, 249 n. 11 Ferrari Pérez, Fernando, 259 n. 21 Ferrocarriles Nacionales de México: as economic nationalist enterprise, 27; sponsors Morse visit, 47 Fertilizers, 36, 51, 80 Fifth Section (Ministry of Development). See Section Five Fiscal policies, 13 Floods: of 1906 on Rio Nazas, 72; protection against, 184 Foex, Félix, 258 n. 8 Food: insufficiency of staples of, 22;

Index insufficiency of staples of after 1904, 182; rise of supply with population increase of, 243 n. 62; staples of, and haciendas, 39; staples, being bought abroad, 25; staples, production briefly discussed, 264 n. 3; staples, production of per capita falling, 263 n. 2; staples, programs to increase supplies of, 28; staples of, replaced by liquor plants on some haciendas, 40-41; starvation avoided by government subsidy for, 182 Foreign exchange, scarcity of, 35 Foreign investment, comparative benefits outside Mexico of, 12 Foreign trade, suffering from price instabilities, 26-27 Forestry: attention in Dirección General de Agricultura to, 190-191; Law of 1909 for, 190; in Practical Forestry School, 191 France, recognition of Diaz regime by, 8, 11

Freedoms: of businessmen, 8; personal, 3 Fruit tree cultivation, 79-80 Gándara, Guillermo, 259 n. 21 Gayol, Roberto, agricultural analysis by, 62-65; "developmental" analysis by, 45-46; federal policy ideas of, 58; in Nazas study group, 159 ff.; recommendations by, 55 Geologists, future role of, 234 Gold standard: and bimetallism, 225; effects of, 26; governments adopt, 26 Gómez, Marte, in Mexican engineering tradition, 233 González, Manuel, 10-11 González Marrón, Mateo, seeks power generation concession, 249 n. 23 González Peñafiel, Dr. José, 120; as colonial waters arbiter, 250 n. 30 Good of all, Tlahualilo case raises issue of, 210-212 Gran Registro de la Propiedad, futility of, 42 Great Britain: assistance to Tlahualilo Company by, 205 ff.; friendly atti-

277

tude of, 24; reaction to Supreme Court decision by, 215; recognition of Diaz regime by, 11; reestablishment of relations with, 8; in Rio Nazas conflict, 196 ff.; Tlahualilo position now firm by, 209 Grey, Sir Edward, 209, 296 ff.; view of Tlahualilo question of, 262 n. 26 Guanajuato, 116; Power and Electric Company, 118; State, 118 Guardiola, J., opinion on Rio Aguanaval works of, 251 n. 4 Guerrero Romero, Luis, 127; in Rio Aguanaval survey, 251 n. 3; in Rio Lerma survey, 252 n. 15; work in Comisión del Rio Lerma by, 138 Guerrilla resistance by Yaqui Indians, 142 ff. Gulf lowlands: low priority for works in, 85; not mentioned by analysts, 51; site of tropical produce, 68 Gutiérrez, Ismael, in Culiacán survey, 253 n. 18 Hacendados, falling away from Diaz, 28 Hacienda: belief it was abandoning cereal production, 43; critique of efficiency of, 39-40; shifting use of, 55 Hacienda Arroyozarco, 131 ff.; controversy with federal authority, 131 ff.; hydroelectric plant in, 252 n. 8 Hacienda de Cantarranas, 249 n. 23 Hacienda de Hornos, 122 ff. Hacienda de La Piedad (Rio Magdalena), special water right for, 255 n. 53 Hacienda de San Fernando, 102, 215; and Rio Nazas water right of, 205 ff. Hacienda La Llave, 131 ff. Hacienda San Nicolas, 131 ff.; and power for Puebla city, 250 n. 26 Hague Tribunal, 210, 215 Harriman, E. H., "gobbling up" of railroads by feared, 242 n. 56 Harvey, Herbert, x Hay, John, on U.S. right of intervention, 263 n. 41 Hemeroteca Nacional, xi

278

Index

Henequen industry, 227; dependence on foreign trade, 27; growth and U.S. part in, 243-244 n. 75 Hernández, Adalberto, Río Nazas opinion of, 216-217 Hernández, Rafael L., thesis on waters laws of, 165 Herrera y Lasso, José, retrospective view of waters policy by, 180-181 Homestead, 37 "Homestead" policy of Chihuahua State, mentioned, 259 n. 26 Huerta, Victoriano, blockage of boundary-river settlements by, 156 Huntington-Wilson, Francis Mairs, 263 n. 37 Hydraulic engineers, 230; future role of, 234; in new education plan, 188; training suggested and commenced for, 258 n. 6 Hydroelectric power generation, 66, 90, HOff., 138,157, 158-159, chap. 9; applications for overstated, 116; attracting investment, 40; concession requested for, 249 n. 23; concessions not intended for, 40; and S. B. de Mier, 250 n. 26; at hacienda on Río San Juan del Rio, 252 n. 8; need for stressed, 162; as new high priority, 34; policy for, 21 Ibarrola, Ramón de, 106 ff., 120, 121; aversion to stronger federal powers of, 114; convenes interested parties of Rio Nazas, 249 n. 11; 1891 estimate for Nazas water storage by, 216; enunciation of basic federal waters doctrine by, 99-100; question of federal jurisdiction raised by, 118; reasons for Geld surveys by, 171; Rio Nazas study, 1890-1891, by, 197; shapes Rio Atoyac commission, 250 n. 29; surveys Rio Atoyac basin, 112 ff.; surveys Río Duero, 115 ff.; visits Rio Duero survey, 250 n. 34 Ideas, Diaz regime lack of interest in uniformity of, 16-17 Immigration, 3; encouraged to benefit agriculture, 23; foreign, hope for, 8-9; role in founding of businesses of, 15

Import substitution, 5, 11, 22, 219220, 264 n. 3 Impressment, of workers for mines and haciendas, 14 Incentives, as part of central government investment policy, 12-13 Independence, centennial celebration of, 28 Indians, in Liberals' view, 17 Inflation, fear of, 26-27 Infrastructure: development of, 7; expenditures for, 3 Innes, Mitchell, opinion on Tlahualilo question, 262 n. 30 Inspector of Waters, 122 Interest rates: fear of constant variations of, 26-27; fluctuations in, 9 International Boundary Commission, United States and Mexico, 151; jurisdiction partially stated, 254 n. 43 International Court of Justice, 210,215 International law, 213 ff.; differential use of in Tlahualilo case, 263 n. 41 International river status, difference of understanding of doctrine of, 150151 Intervention: right of, John Hay statement of, 263 n. 41; by United States of America, 214 Investment: foreign, 7, chaps. 1, 9; foreign, directly from abroad, 243 n. 67; foreign, elements of, 240 n. 22; foreign, encouraged, 241 n. 34; foreign, increasing, 23-24; private, belief in, 218 ff. Iron Industry, 3 Irrigation: "engineers'" and "bankers'" projects for, 85; how to finance works for, 83-84; need for national development of, 32-33; in new lands policy before 1910, 187; policy for, 21; Porfirio Diaz gives first place to need for, 33; profit motive in questioned, 247 n. 34; recommended, 53 ff.; Rio Nazas conditions and water loss in, 198; time as crucial factor in, 74; total of land available for, 76 Izucar de Matamoros, 117 Jalisco State, 137 ff.

Index Jesuits, in Yaqui River valley, 142 Juárez, Benito, 1, 3, 4-5, 6-7; budgeting by, 6; economic policies of, 6-7; ideal of Mexican independence of, 226; railroad policy of, 240 n. 23; river-water award of 1864 by, 122 Juntas, for special federal problem solving, 184 Kitchin, James, 205 Knox, Philander, 210 ff.; and Alsop, Tlahualilo cases, 262-263 n. 37 Laborers: better wages for, 51; in countryside, 15; federal housing program for, 259 n. 26; impressed in mines and on haciendas, 14; from Korea and elsewhere, 244 n. 75; lack of, 50; shortage of, discussed, 73-74; in tumult, 28 Laborers' organizations, and conflict of government with, 13 Laguna District (Comarca Lagunera), 11, 90 ff., 121, 195 ff.; annual cotton-farming regime in, 70-72; cotton cultivation in, 196 ff.; economic boom in, 217; Madero family interests in, 46-47; new Terrazas-Purcell interests in, 249 n. 22; as site prefiguring tendencies and developments, 235; water-need estimates for, 216 Laguna Mayrán, 72, 92 Laissez-faire capitalism, no desire to return to, 86 Laja, Río de la. See Río de la Laga Lake Chapala, 73, 137 ff.; dredging need 1921, 253 n. 17; problems with, 138 ff. Lake Guatimapé, 159, 160 Lakes: as sources for irrigation, 77; drainage of, 138; drainage policy questioned for, 140 Lake Tlahualilo, 248 n. 7 Lake Yuriria, 137 La Llave Dam, 132 Land census, futility of, 42 "Land hunger," 247 n. 38 Landowners' associations, 59-60 Land policy: 12, 21 ff.; changes before 1910 in, 185; desire to encourage small- and medium-sized holdings

279 by, 43; irrigation benefits, need for, 181

Lands policy: Diaz's loss of faith in, 33; in Papantla district (Veracruz State), 192; sale and grant of public lands ceased 1902,42; stability and change in, 22-23 Lavin family, 259 n. 3 Law: civil codes of, 13, 166; criminal code of, 13; enabling, 4; for forestry, 173; lack of, 4; of Spain and Mexico on water rights, 69; Tlahualilo case litigants' opposed views of, 210 ff.; and waters jurisdiction, 170-171, chap. 6 Law of nations, 213 ff. Laws: of June 5, 1888, 69, 91, 94-95, 96, 165 ff., 168; of June 6, 1894, 170-171; of 1896, 170-171; of 1902, 171-172; of 1905, 173; of 1906, 173; of 1909, 190; of 1910, 177-180; of 1926, 237 Lejeune, Louis, 47 León, 116 León de la Barra, Francisco, 204; resistance of regime to Tlahualilo Company by, 226 Lerdo de Tejada, Sebastián, 4, 29 Ley de Aguas de Jurisdicción Federal. See Waters Law of 1910 Leyva, Aureliano, field course in dam construction by, 190 Liberal party, 1, 2, 4, 5, 14; changing focuses of beliefs and emphasis of, 16-18; desire for Mexican independence by, 226; narrowed interests of, 235-236; shifting beliefs of, 240 n. 14; and small farmers, 5-6 Liberals, interests during Diaz regime defined, 17 Library of Congress, xi Limantour, José Yves, 259 n. 27; and Caja de Préstamos, 177; calls bankers' conference, 26; economic nationalism and other tendencies, 226227; as economic nationalist, 24, 27; furnishes Madero facts, 248 n. 5; as key policy maker, 20; opinion of railroad location of, 222; private interests of, 227; recommends gold standard, 26; Tlahualilo Company nego-

280

Index

tiations of, 207 ff. López Moctezuma, Manuel: inspects Río Aguanaval, 252 n. 6; in Rio Aguanaval survey, 251 n. 3; service resumed later by, 233 Lorenz, Joaquín, in Culiacán survey, 253 n. 18 Loria, Francisco, 51; "efficiency" analysis by, 49-50 Los Molinos River. See Río Los Molinos Madero, Francisco I., 120, 204, 217; agricultural analysis by, 70-73; calls for uprising, 29; dam project suggestion by, 203; "developmental" analysis by, 46-47; favoring Cañón de Fernández dam site, 159; leadership in "lower river" Laguna faction by, 203; resistance to Tlahualilo Company by, 226 Madero family, 259 n. 3 Mallet-Prévost, Severo, 205 ff., 215 Manufacturing, 3, 9 Mapping: national insufficiency of, 233; in Rio Yaqui valley, 254 n. 40 Maps, Laguna District shortage of, 202 Marcasusa, Carlos, 259 n. 27 Market: domestic, 5, 6; domestic, desire to build a, 11; domestic, weakness as of 1905-1908, 25; national, desire to expand, 21; world, influence in Mexico, 1905-1908, 22; world, influence of, 18; world, negative effect in Mexican economy 19051908, 25 Marroquín y Rivera, Manuel: bureaucratic rise of, 228; introduces courses on cement construction, 190; in Nazas study group, 159 ff.; sponsors new lands policy, 187; studies Tlahualilo Company canal, 261 n. 21 Martinez, José, 115, 119, 120 Más Cinta, Ing. Juan, x Masonry, 134 Master planning: absence of, 221-222; avoidance of, 10; by Calles, 237; conditions adverse to, 242 n. 44; for drainage basins, 140; incipient in bureaucracy, 230; for irrigation, 28; lack of, 16; not seen in economic

analyses, 41 Matamoros, municipality and Cuadro of, 122 ff. Matamoros River. See Río Matamoros Maximilian of Habsburg, 1, 2, 4 Maytorena family, in Yaqui country, 145 Merchant marine, lack of, 11 Meseta Central, 67, 76-77; dam sites in, 77-78 Mestizos, settlement in Yaqui lands by, 144 ff. Metals, in Mexican mining after 1900, 24 Meteorological stations, 52; as former high priority, 33 Mexican Revolution, statement of cause of, 242 n. 49 Mexico City, modern ambience before 1910 in, 184 Michoacán State, 137 ff.; survey in, 115 ff. Mier, Sebastián B. de: concession confirmed for, 118; concessionaire on the Rio Atoyac, 111; quoted, 117; and water right for hacienda, 250 n. 30 Mills, General Anson, 149; role in El Chamizal and other negotiations, 155 Mining, 6-7; boom in, 24-25; fading from Diaz's hopes for as economic accelerator, 32; as key economic activity, 5; Laws of 1886, 1887 for, 13; of silver, 7 Mining industry: and expansion with railroads, 7-8; law of 1909, mentioned, 182; mutual dependence with electricity industry, 25; possible reasons for deemphasis of, 193 Ministry of Agriculture: desired, 235; planned for, 192 Ministry of Communications and Public Works, 97, 107; importance of practical role of, 230; lends Ing. Ramón de Ibarrola, 111; 1906 view of Tlahualilo Company rights by, 261 n. 21; proceeding with classifying of streams by, 168; role in Waters Law of 1910 for, 180 Ministry of Development, x, 107, 110,

Index 122; bureaucrats suggesting improvement of, 37; control of railroads by, 241 n. 38; decrees Rio Duero survey, 118; delays Tlahualilo concession request, 260 n. 6; in Diaz's expansions of policy, 219 ff.; foreign visits by officials of, 187 ff.; importance of practical role of, 230 ff.; lessons from pre-1911 experience for, 232-233; mission to United States of, 259 n. 21; new hydraulic policy of, 177-180; in new lands policy before 1910, 186 ff.; new waters policy in formulation by, 175 ff.; orders Rio Aguanaval survey, 122124; output of technical publications by, 42; policy changes for Rio Nazas properties by, 204 ff.; Rio Nazas activities of, 97; Rio Nazas policies of, 195 ff.; role not yet fully known, 227; special prohibition of 1908 by, 204-206; studies Nazas possibilities, 158 ff.; survey along Río Magdalena by, 158; turns to U.S. for Agriculture Ministry information, 191; undertakes agricultural census, 191; water-rights confirmation by, 171 Ministry of Fomento. See Ministry of Development Ministry of Foreign Relations, faint role in boundary-river negotiations of, 154 Ministry of Government (Secretaría de Gobernación), managing Río Magdalena, 158 Ministry of Public Instruction, plans for technical education by, 188 Modernization, economic, 9 Molina, Olegario, 85; agricultural policy of, 81; changing policies for Rio Nazas management by, 204 ff.; economic nationalism and other tendencies of, 226-228; new hydraulic policy of, 177-180; policy for Yaqui problem, 147-148; Rio Nazas Conference role of, 208; Rio Nazas policies by, 195 ff.; rise in importance, 264 n. 7; role in new waters law of, 175 ff.; as U.S. henequen agent, 243 n. 75 Molina Enríquez, Andrés, 58, 60, 165;

281 analysis by, 64-70; "developmental" analysis by, 45; Los grandes problemas nacionales criticizing agricultural backwardness, 22 Monarchist faction, 2 Monopolies, 14; established by Diaz regime, 11 Monsalve, Agustín, new view of prescriptive rights proposed by, 127-128 Monterrey, interests in Laguna District of, 196 Moore, John Bassett, 214 Morse, Stanley, "developmental" analysis by, 47 Mutual savings and loan institutions, 58 Naranjas, 255 n. 52 National Agricultural School, 220 National Archive, Mexico City, x National Archives, U.S., xi National Commission of Irrigation (Comisión Nacional de Irrigación), 237 National Corn Exposition, Omaha, Neb., 258 n. 8 National Engineering School. See Escuela National de Ingenieros National hydraulic policy: formation of, 174 ff.; suggestion for, 85 National Hydraulic Service, as part of 1910 law, 178 National Hydraulic Survey, 229; suggestion for, 85 Nationalism, economic, 24, 27, 182, 217, 219, 220, 225-226; and railroads, 241 n. 38; in borrowing practices, 243 n. 66; need for, 35; of Porfirio Díaz, 29 National School of Agriculture and Veterinary Science, reorganizing of, 187 National School of Agriculture, relocation and reorganization of, 188-189 Natural resources, need seen for efficient use of, 35 Navigability: of Rio Atoyac, 250 n. 28; of Río Bravo, as "intermediate issue," circumvention of, 156-157 Nazas River Conference: See Rio Nazas Conference

282

Index

Neo-Conservatives, 17 New Mexico State, 150 Nexapa River. See Rio Nexapa Northern Mexican Power company project, finished, 243 n. 69 Nuevo Leon State, 196 Obregón, Alvaro, strong resource policy of, 225 Ocean, Mexican sovereignty limit in, 171 Office of Public Works (Federal District), surrenders forestry activities, 190 Oficial mayor, 21 Once Pueblos district (Michoacán State), 115 ff. Oposición, 88-89 Orozco, Wistano Luis, 165 Ortiz Station (Sonora State), conference at, 145 Otumba, site of dam field study at, 190 Pacific slope, 68 Palacios, Leopoldo, agricultural analysis by, 73-78 Palacio de Belles Artes, Mexico City, expenditure for, 184 Palmito Canyon, 159-160 Papantla district (Veracruz State), distribution of lands in, 192 Paper industry, 3 Pardo, Manuel, in Rio Aguanaval survey, 251 n. 3 Paso del Norte: name changed 1886, 254 n. 42; Valley, 149 Patio process in metals refining, fading, 24 Pearson, S. & Son, 158 ff.; contract for high dam on Rio Nazas for, 203 ff.; estimate for Rio Nazas water storage by, 216; reorganized as Northern Mexican Power Company, 25 Pearson, Weetman, and high dam contract, 203 ff. Pérez de Yarto, Antenor, opinion on waters law of, 164-165 Peust, Otto, analysis by, 47-48 Pinchot, Gifford, visit and invitation to forestry congress by, 191

Plan de San Juan del Rio, 131 Planning. See Master Planning Police, rural (Rurales), 13 Policy making: durable aspects of, 232233; "Mexican style" of, 221; pragmatic style of, chap. 9 Political system of Diaz regime. See Coalition, political Pollution of stream, 158 Polotitlán municipality and water use, 131 ff. Poor people, lack of policies for, 23 Porfiriato, spirit of, 237 Potter, James Brown, 205 Powell, John Wesley, 151 Practical Forestry School, 191 Presa del Centenario. See Centenario Dam Prescripción, 97, 122, 129; Monsalve's new view of, 127-128; for Rio Nazas properties, 1870s-1880s, 201-202; weakened in Waters Law of 1910, 179-180 Priority in use, 150 Privileges: for certain persons, 14; special, as part of coalition political practice, 14-15 Problem solving, technique of Diaz regime in, 15 Productivity, 40 Profit motive, suspicion by many analysts of, 58 Progress: appearance of fading, 28; belief in inevitability of, 17; philosophy of, 2 Propaganda, for improving farm practices, 37 Prosperity: after early 1890s, 18; as first necessity, 29 Provisional Regulation of June 24, 1891 (Rio Nazas), 98-100 Public domain: census desired of, 33; contraction of, 21; reduction in conversion to private property of, 33; some rivers part of, 172 Public Record Office, The, xi Puebla State, 110 ff. Pulque production, 7 Pumping, briefly discussed, 263 n. 43 Purcell, William L., 249 n. 22, 259 n.

Index 3; in cotton and cattle enterprises, 12 Quevedo, Manuel G. de, irrigation policy idea by, 58 Railroads: beneficial effect in newer mining operations of, 24; building of, 7; economic effects of, 11; effect in enhancing economic activities, 18-19; effects of, stated, 240 n. 22; expansion and government role in, 7-8; government countering foreign role in, 19; ideas in building of, 239 n. 9; inability to create larger national market, 22; Juárez's role in, 240 n. 23; laws for, 13; locational questions concerning, 222; nationalization of, 27; rates discriminatory by, 243 n. 62; steadily positive role in economy of, 242 n. 57 Rainfall: as private property, 134, 247248 n. 2, 248 n. 3; proportion available in streams, 76; scarce records of, 124, 134, 233-234; unmeasured near Lake Chapala, 252-253 n. 16 Ramo de Aguas. See Section Five Ranchero, 15; Díaz overlooks condition of, 231-232 Ranchos, increase in number of, 22 Realito Canyon (Rio Aguanaval), 127, 128 Reforestation, 43, 78, 245 n. 3; legislated, 173 Reform: "announcement" phase of, 237; "reconnaissance" phase of, 237 Reformism, of upper, middle-class intellectuals, 17 Reglamentos: definition, 96; of 1891 (Rio Nazas), 98 ff.; of 1895 (Rio Nazas), 104, 106-109; of 1895 in action, 200 ff.; project for Rio Aguanaval submitted, 127; project of one for Rio Atoyac submitted, 117; provisional for Río San Juan del Rio, 132 ff.; for Río Magdalena, 157 ff.; of Waters Law of 1910, 180 Revolt, agrarian, 29 Richardson Construction Company, 147; concession to sell Yaqui river water, 253 n. 31; Rio Yaqui interests

283 of, 253 n. 31, 254 n. 35 Rio Aguanaval, 109, 121 ff., 167; annual regime of, 126; congressional reverberation of controversy in, 129; inspected by López Moctezuma, 252 n. 6; suggestion to halt construction of works for, 251 n. 4; survey personnel for, 251 n. 3; water insufficient for nearby lands, 251 n. 4; water rights position of central government, 174 Rio Atoyac, 97, 109, 157; commission created for, 250 n. 29; navigability and flow of, 250 n. 28; regulatory commission for, 112, 115; study of, mentioned, 161; survey of drainage basin of, 111 ff. Rio Bravo del Norte (Rio Grande), 85; binational commission for, 255 n. 50; survey and study work on, 150 ff. Rio Cantarranas, 115, 117 Rio Colorado, 152; modus operandi for and Treaty of 1905 for, 156; study of, mentioned, 161 RioCuliacán, study of, mentioned, 161 Río de la Laja: as part of Lerma survey, 256 n. 65; study of, mentioned, 161 Rio de Los Molinos, 115 Rio del Tunal, 159 Rio Duero, 97, 109; question of reglamento for, 119; survey of, 115 ff., 118 ff.; survey statistics for, 250 n. 35 Rio Grande Commission, binational, established 1909, 255 n. 50 Rio Grande de Santiago, 137 ff. Rio Grande River. See Rio Bravo del Norte Rio Humaya, 140 Rio Lerma, 137 ff.; commission permanently stationed on, 163 Rio Magdalena, reglamento for, 157; mentioned, 173 Rio Matamoros, 115 Rio Nadó, brief survey of, 134 Rio Nazas Conference, 205 ff.; consultations ensuing from, 210 Rio Nazas, 70 ff., 91 ff., 167; bifurcation of, 249 n. 13; blighting of dam project for, 216; coeficiente de riego

284

Index

for, 261 n. 17; dam prospect and Tlahualilo conflict bearing on, 216; "downstream procession" of water rights in, 97; 1881 Supreme Court order for, mentioned, 260 n. 9; federal regulation established, 99-100; further plan for, 159; high dam for, 47; "lower river" and "upper river," owners' fears for, 200 ff.; "lower river" and "upper river," properties on, 196; "lower river" and "upper river," water used in zones, 261 n. 17; parties interested in convene, 248 n. 7; prescription situation on, 201-202; presumed annual flow of, 107; Provisional Regulation of June 24,1891 for, 98-100; Reglamento of 1895 for, 195; tanda system explained, 260 n. 10; water-storage need for, 216-217 Rio Nexapa, 115, 117, 118; study of, mentioned, 161 Río Panuco, 85 Rio San Juan del Rio: study of, mentioned, 161; survey of, 121 ff. Rio San Lorenzo, survey of, 140-141 Rio Tamazula, 140 Río Tangancicuaro, 109 Rio Tetepantla, engineering-school dam constructed on, 190 Rio Tijuana, 152 Rio Verde (San Luis Potosí), experimental station at, 188 Rio Yaqui: activities concerning, and incipient survey in, 141 ff.; concession to Richardson Construction Company on, 253 n. 31; flood disaster of 1905, 253 n. 27; floods in, 145; lands to be colonized, 254 n. 37; reconnaissance of, mentioned, 254 n. 36; U.S. company surveying on, 254 n. 37 Riparian right doctrine, 150 Riquelme, Félix, 52 River-basin surveys: of boundary rivers, northern frontier, 150ff.; briefly of Río Nadó, 134; forecast of change in scope and objectives of, 163; incipient activities for Lerma-ChapalaSantiago zone in, 137 ff.; increasing

popularity of, 140; national scope and effort needed in, 162; practical limits on, 135-137; reasons for undertaking of, 171; of Rio AtoyacNexapa, mentioned, 161; of Rio Colorado, mentioned, 161; of Rio Culiacán, mentioned, 161; of Rio de la Laja, mentioned, 161; of Rio Duero, 118 ff.; of Rio Magdalena, 157 ff.; of Río San Juan del Rio, 130 ff., 161; of Rio San Lorenzo, 140141; of Rio Yaqui zone delayed, 147 ff.; of San Lorenzo, Humaya, and Tamazula rivers, 140-141; small scope before 1910 of, 162; view to future of, 162-163 River-basin viewpoint: as coming policy, 218-219; desire to put into practice, 234 Roads: lack of, 231; local, in "developmental" analyses, 43; local, needed, 34 Robles, Carlos, 259 n. 27 Rodriguez Langone, Antonio, as shining example, 235 Roman Catholic Church, 1; meetings for benefit of agriculture and farmers, 36-37 Romo, Basilio, foreign trip by, 189 Root, Elihu: failure to finish boundary arrangements by, 156; negotiates Treaty of 1906, 153 Rubia de Izita, Señora de, 135-136 Safety of persons and property, as government objective, 13 Salamanca, 116 Saltón Sea, 153 San Bartolo, 117 San Diego, California, vigilant Mexican consul at, 154-155 San Juan del Rio municipality, water for, 132 San Juan del Rio River. See Rio San Juan del Rio San Nicolás Dam, 132 San Nicolás mill, 117 San Pedro Atlixco, 117 Savings, suggestions for mutual associations with credit facilities for, 36-37

Index Scarcity, water policy earliest directed at, 223 Schools: agricultural recommended, 245 n. 9; Diaz wants federal control of, 224; Diaz's desire for, 226; engineering curriculum modernized for, 189-190; expenditures for, 7; for engineering too thinly provided for, 229-230; plans for three levels of work for agriculture in, 188; public, 8; for regional agriculture, 33; rural, 28 Sea of Cortez, 152 Secretaría de Comuncaciones y Obras Públicas. See Ministry of Communications and Public Works Secretaría de Fomento, Colonización, é Industria. See Ministry of Development Secretaría de Governacion. See Ministry of Government Secretaría de Instrucción Pública. See Ministry of Education Section Five (of Ministry of Development), 39, 83-85, 87-88,180; budget suggested for, 85; number of employees in, 183; small staff of, 111 Serrano, Joaquin, leads Culiacán survey, 253 n. 18 Sewerage facilities, Mexico City, 184 Sharecropper, 5 Shortage of water, in Rio Aguanaval zone, 251 n. 4 Shortages in economy, "bottlenecks," 35 Silver: as contraband, 4; effects of price decline in, 240 n. 28; expanding production of, 25; fluctuations of prices of, 9; government seeks U.S. guarantee of price of, related to gold price, 26 Sindicato de Accionistas de Matamoros y Rio Aguanaval: mentioned, 252 n. 6 Site location for industry, absent from economic analyses, 41 Sitio de ganado mayor, equivalence in hectares of, 252 n. 13 Smallholders. See Farmers, small Sociedad Mexicana de Geografía é

285 Estadística, 58 Society, Tlahualilo case raises issues of basis and operation of, 210-212 Sonora and Sinaloa Irrigation Company: bought out by Richardson, 254 n. 35; concession for, 145 Sonora State, 141 ff. Southern California, farm interests in, 153 Southern Pacific Railroad, 154 Sovereignty, seaward limit of, 171 Spain, dam-site policy in, 63 Starving, government policies to avoid, 182 State boundary, as source of conflict among Rio Nazas and Rio Aguanaval landowners, 123 States' rights, 173 States' rights in streams, discussion of, 165 ff. Students, in tumult, 28 Subsidies, as large part of budget, 27 Subsidy, government use to avoid starving, 182 Subsistence farmers, 5 Suprema Corte de Justicia, x Supreme Court: appeal to by Tlahualilo Company, 208 ff.; decisions in Tlahualilo case by, 213; 1881 Rio Nazas order by, mentioned, 260 n. 9 Surcos, 157, 250 n. 31 Survey: of public lands, policies enhancing, 21; suspended, 33 Tamariz Oropesa, Francisco, 115 Tamayo, Jorge L.: as shining example, 235 Tandas, 101; on Río Magdalena, 255 n. 53; on Rio Nazas, 260 n. 7; system for explained, 260 n. 10 Tangancicuaro Valley, 119 Tarahumara Indians, lands for, 192 Tariff. See Customs-tax Taxation, 2, 4, 6, 8; agricultural use for, 51; in "developmental" analysis, 43; as disincentive in proposed land policies, 60; disincentive in agriculture by, 80; exemption from, 64; illegal, 14; overlooked in agricul-

286

Index

tural analyses, 38 Tehuantepec railway, 75 Telephone, river management use of, 129 Terms of trade: favorable and unfavorable, 23; shifting adversely, 25 Terrazas family, 259 n. 3; in cotton enterprise, 249 n. 22 Tetabiate, 145-146 Telepantla River. See Rio Telepantla Textile Industry, 3; disfavored by central government, 248 n. 4 Thompson, David E.: in Rio Nazas negotiations, 206 ff. ; scorn by State Department of, 213 Time: as crucial factor in farming, 74; importance to farm administration of, 78; Tlahualilo controversy as wastage of, 215; water allocations not to take account of, 260 n. 10 Tlahualilo Canal, 104, 107-108; modifications of rejected, 108 Tlahualilo Company, 172, 195 ff.; abuse of rights by, 101-102; canal study by Marroquín y Rivera, 261 n. 21; central government opposes, 226; concession delayed by Ministry of Development, 260 n. 6; foreign reorganization and investment in, 205; 1906 view of water right by Ministry, 261 n. 26; opinion of Mitchell Innes regarding, 262 n. 30; organization and early operations of, 94-96; playing lone hand, 197 ff.; in Supreme Court against central government, 208 ff.; temporary agreement with Diaz by, 212-213; U.S. and Great Britain defending, 213; variation in water allowed to, 200 ff.; water right (1895) of, 106 ff.; water right of, 103 Tlahualilo Lake, 248 n. 7 Tomas, 114-115 Topographers, 230; in new educational plan, 188; in Rio Atoyac survey, 115 Torres family: roles in Rio Yaqui zone, 28, 253 n. 27; in Yaqui Indian country, 144 ff. Torres, General Lorenzo, 145 Torres, General Luis E., 145, 146 Toscano, Salvador, 115, 119, 120

Transportation, 2; cost reductions in, 7; lacking in local road system, 34; lacking all-weather roads, 231; railroad results fading in Diaz's estimation, 32 Treaty: of 1848 (Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo), navigability provisions of, 156; of 1905, and Rio Colorado, 156; of 1906, 153 Trusts, 18, 24 Unemployment, Diaz's overlooking of, 220 United States of America: agricultural services in recommended for Mexico, 80; assistance to Tlahualilo Company by, 205 ff.; awareness ofportance of Southwest, Pacific Southwest by, 154; final stand in Tlahualilo controversy of, 214-215; firm position in Tlahualilo controversy by, 209 ff.; friendly attitude of, 24; in Rio Nazas conflict, 186 ff.; intervention in Mexican affairs, 214215; Mexican relationships deteriorating, 215; recognition of Diaz regime by, 8, 11; welcome to Mexican government visitors by, 192 U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, 54, 156 U.S. Department of Agriculture: and Mexican visit to, 192; welcomes Mexican initiative, 259 n. 21 U.S. Department of State, 213-215; and Tlahualilo controversy, 186 ff.; 205 ff.; 263 n. 37; welcomes Mexican initiative, 259 n. 21 U.S. Department of the Interior, 154 U.S. Geological Survey, 151 ff., 154, 156 Vallarta, Ignacio L., 172; as expert on waters jurisdiction, 168-170 Valley of Mexico, 85; drainage and water provision for, 75 Vega, Fernando, attacks federal power, 251 n. 5 Vera, Manuel R., 229; agricultural analysis by, 81-85; confused as to Puebla State water rights, 110; as forerunner, 235; hydraulic engineer-

Index ing studies urged by, 220; in Nazas study group, 159 ff.; public statement on work to date by, 161 "Vertical" economic organizations, 2425 Viadas, Lauro, foreign trip and recommendations by, 189 Villa Ahumada (Chihuahua State), site of inexpensive land sales at, 192 Villa de Aldama, irrigation commission of, 256 n. 63 Villa Lerdo, headquarters of Comisión Inspectora del Río Nazas at, 106-107 Wages policy, lack of to improve incomes of poor people, 23 Water, typical Mexican sources of, 76 Water distribution system, Rio Nazas, 198 ff. Water Law of 1910, 177-180 Water Law of 1926, mentioned, 237 Water rights: abuses of (Rio Aguanaval), 124 ff.; as affected by laws of 1894 and 1896, 170-171; basic federal doctrine enunciated for, 99-100; of central government attacked, 251 n. 5; controversy over, in Laguna District, 92-95; defects in pre-1910 grants indicated, 135-136; discussion of, 78-79; "downstream procession" system of, 97; Ibarrola's belief in sanctity of, 97; method of gaining, 87-90; misuse of, 112; Molina Enriquez doctrine of, 68-69; question of limiting to amount usable, 130131; questions concerning, 84; on Rio Nazas 1864, 256 n. 3; in Rio Nazas seen by government and Tlahualilo Company, 262 n. 32; in rivers differently understood by Mexicans, North Americans, 150 ff.; several criteria for, 174-175; suggested change in bases of, 79; to be stated as amount of water actually needed, 127-128; various considerations bearing on, 200 ff. Water shortage, in Rio Aguanaval, 251 n. 4 Waters Law: of 1888,13, of 1910, 177180; of 1910, Herrera y Lasso's retro-

287 spective view of, 180-181; of 1910, history of, 175 ff.; of June 5, 1888, question of legality of, 200 ff. Watershed, policies for acquiring of, 191 Waters policy: anarchy in laws for, 164-165; of central government, 12; Civil Code not in accord with, 251 n. 5; contexts of, 220 ff.; discussed, 82 ff.; expansion of, mentioned, 219; of federal government questioned, 260-261 n. 12; first resource scarcity attack on by, 223; interests involved by 1907-1909, 175 ff.; irrigation as a low priority in, 59; lack of maps still hampering, 233; lack of results in, 229-230; lacunae in, 223; of later years, prefigured before 1910, 56-57; of later years, prefigured by Roberto Gayol, 58; Law of 1910 in, 177-180; Law of May 16, 1906, in, 173; Molina's view of needs for, 176; new laws bearing on, 170 ff.; potable water and, 23; pragmatic style of, 232; rainfall in, 248 n. 3; reasons for slow pace of, 183184; for Rio Nazas, changing of, 204 ff.; Rio Nazas Conference partial restatement of, 208; sewerage and, 23; shift away from capitalist focus of, 181; standstill in, 216; Supreme Court suit questions concerning, 211 ff.; to increase agriculture, power generation, industry, 33; traditional and amended priorities within, 66; useful-reasonable aspects of, 236 Welfare, Tlahualilo case raises issues of general, 210-212 Wells: for irrigation, 77; mentioned, 263 n. 43 Wheat, in Laguna District, 196 Wheat trade, with Cuba, 7 White, J. G., Engineering Company, 237 Wilson, Henry Lane: quoted, 263 n. 42; Tlahualilo conflict attitude of, 214-215 Workers. See Laborers World market, Diaz's disregard for influence of, 225-226

288

Index

Yaqui Indians, 46; changed world view of, 142; departure and removal from valley of, 146-147; encroachments resisted by, 142 ff.; leaving valley, 254 n. 40

"Yaqui Law," 142 Yeoman. See Ranchero Yucatán State, 85; as destination for Yaqui people, 147

Designer: UC Press Staff and Linda M. Robertson Compositor: Janet Sheila Brown Printer: Braun-Brumfield, Inc. Binder: Braun-Brumfield, Inc. Text: 10/12 Baskerville Display: Baskerville