I receive the census form, which asks for my demographic information. “Is this person of Hispanic, Latino, or Spanish Origin?” “Yes, Mexican American.” Next question. “What is this person’s race? White, Black or African American, American Indian or Alaskan Native, Asian, Pacific Islander, or some other race.” I pause for a second. Should I select “some other race?” But what other race am I? I ask my mom, “Mom, what is my race?” “Mestizo, you silly.” Mestizo? What the hell is that? I wrestle between selecting “other” and “white” and end up marking “other” and closing the form. Did I feel that this form captured my identity? No, but I am glad I do not have to think this hard about my identity again until the following form comes.
Except for Mexican Americans racially identifying as Asian, Black, or Indigenous, I know many Mexican Americans have faced a similar dilemma. Mexican history books often teach those of us that identify within these uncategorized shades of brown to identify as other: mestizo, a mix between indigenous and Spanish. Mexican immigrants who grow up in Mexico under the dominant understanding of their race as a mixture of white and Indigenous clash when moving to the U.S., where race is understood as either white or Native but not both (Massey & Denton,1992). Exploring the origins of “mestizaje” – the view that Mexicans are mestizo – and deconstructing its functions, I view mestizaje as a political tool used to push Mexicans closer to whiteness and further away from any non-white roots. Discussing how the tale of mestizaje enables the state to remove our agency in determining our identity, I will explore its implications in understanding racism when most nationals do not understand how to identify racially. Discussing the myth of the “mestizo” identity, I will defend that creating and promoting an all-in-one identity has led the Mexican national collective to adopt an empty racial identity.
In this paper, I will first present how Mexican public education teaches the “mestizo” identity and how the Mexican elite uses this identity as an ideological tool to maintain power. I will then survey how the “mestizaje” myth to this day has sought to whiten the population, violate indigenous sovereignty, and obscure racism in the production of capital. Establishing “mestizaje” as a political tool to invisibilize racism, I will study its implications in understanding disparities in what is supposed to be a homogenous national collective. Lastly, I will discuss how the “mestizo” identity has led most of the Mexican inhabitants to embody an empty racial identifier, raising the question of how those who have long identified as “mestizo” should identify.
I. The construction of the “mestizo” identity
The Mexican state constructed the ” mestizo ” identity, which promotes the tale of mestizaje as foundational to the Mexican national identity. Part of this myth’s popularity is that the state frames the myth to be an “inclusive” approach to race since nationals can interpret the “mestizo” identity to be granting everyone “equal status” since everyone is supposed to belong to a unified collective. José Vasconcelos, former Secretary of Public Education of Mexico, wrote “La Raza Cosmica,” where he defined mestizaje’s inclusive interpretation and, in his administration, integrated this myth into the country’s curriculum. More than one hundred years later, my high school taught me to identify as mestizo because I am Mexican. They taught me that mestizaje is the “positive” fusion of Spanish and Indigenous cultures that create a new race: the mestizo. Even though I was not taught about “La Raza Cosmica” in high school, his book offers a glimpse into the government’s justification for promoting this myth. Juliet Hooker, Professor of Political Science at Brown University, describes that Mexico increasingly saw the U.S. as an imperial threat at the time, and Mexico sought to counter ideas of Anglo and European superiority – ideas used to “justify” U.S. colonization (2017). Hence, Vasconcelos wrote this book in conversation with U.S. racial politics. In Hooker’s research, Vasconcelos wanted to introduce a national identity that homogenized Mexico’s racially diverse population and “elevated” its status (2017). State-sponsored art, education programs, and propaganda reflect Vasconcelos’ intention to use the “mestizo” identity as the sole Mexican identity. Most notably, Vasconcelos sponsored muralists such as Diego Rivera and Siqueiros to center “mestizos” in the Mexican imagination (Manrique, 2016). Vasconcelos also created education programs that taught the Mexican populace how to assimilate to whiteness – or, in his words, to “progress” (Manrique, 2016). Since then, the government has often applied the “mestizo” label to all that do not identify as indigenous. However, the implications of promoting “colorblind” governance have led to the erasure and appropriation of Black and indigenous populations, invisibilized racial hierarchies, and promoted politics of “mejorar la raza” (a common phrase in Mexico, roughly translated as “bettering the race”).
The tale of the Spanish and indigenous union, promoted by Vasconcelos, has come under scrutiny for its role in obscuring racial divides and excluding people from citizenship. Recently, academics have criticized mestizaje since it has functioned as an ideological tool to keep those in power in power. While Vasconcelos and my High School taught me that mestizaje was the result of a beneficial and “consensual” fusion of all races, the term historically originated as Spanish descendants during colonial rule often raped Indigenous women creating a populace that within the colonial caste system was not Spanish or Indigenous, granting them intermediate privileges (Iturriaga et al., 2021). Contrary to mestizaje’s popular and inclusive interpretation, during colonial rule, those categorized as mestizos were a minority. This demographic group was not more extensive than the Spanish descendants that governed or the afro-descendants they had
kidnapped and enslaved (Iturriaga et al., 2021). As Mexico became independent from Spain, criollos – white Spanish descendants – sought to maintain power in a largely indigenous and afro descendant country by labeling themselves and the rest of Mexico under the mestizo categorization, even though under the caste system they were a minority of the population (Valero, 2021). Unlike Vasconcelos’ myth, where “mestizo” is an empowering identity that grants equal status, the “mestizo” identity became strategic for the minority of white criollos in the country as it promoted nationalism to facilitate control. The state relegated those that resisted such identity to a monolithic “indigenous” categorization that not only erased their ethnic differences but was also not granted full citizenship (Iturriaga et al., 2021). Moreover, the state erased enslaved afro-descendants and non-white immigrants from the Mexican national imagination since they did not fit the definition of indigenous or white (Iturriaga et al., 2021). At the same time, the all-in-one mestizo myth perpetuated the idea that the racial hierarchies that had existed under the Spanish caste system had vanished. However, labeling nationals as the same only made it more difficult to understand how these hierarchies continued in the newly formed Mexican government. In other words, the criollo elite instituted a mestizo identity that attempted to hide how racial hierarchies continued to have material effects and erased entire identities from the Mexican collective to leverage a sense of nationalism and stay in power.
II. The “mestizo” identity and its racist implications
In the early 20th century, paired with Vasconcelos’ public education of mestizaje, scientific racism supported the government’s racial project to whiten the population and reach a supposed “civil” ideal, fortifying the tale of mestizaje as beneficial. Not only did mestizaje draw the lines of citizenship and violate people’s right to identity, but the state’s push for mestizaje also violated their bodies. Scientific racism – the belief that “science” can justify racism – became prevalent and was deemed empirical in U.S. and European academic circles during the early 20th century. The Profiriato was when Porfirio Diaz ruled Mexico between 1876–1911 and pursued to “modernize” the country. His government actively partnered with a group called “Los Cientificos” (“The Scientists”) and used scientific racist literature to legitimize Diaz’s authoritarian regime and his mission to create “order” in what the state perceived as a racially disorderly country (Pérez, 2020). In other words, the state viewed Mexicans who did not align with white ideals and norms as “deterrents” to modernization and “civilization.” Hence, when the state pushes an all-in-one mestizo identity, they seek to make those whom the state perceived as uncivilized to be white, not an “inclusive, equal mixture.” Scientific racist literature published during this time also had a greater emphasis on non-white women compared to men, which consolidated patriarchal violence in Mexico’s racial project (Pérez, 2020). Archives from the National Autonomous University of Mexico demonstrate that under Diaz, doctors at the time would measure indigenous women’s pelvis; if they perceived them as “abnormal,” they would remove them since they were associated with hereditary weaknesses (Pérez, 2020). These practices evidence how the state viewed white bodies as the standard of health and strength. Additionally, under Diaz, midwives were criminalized, and “Los Cientificos” advocated for eugenic policies. Consequently, politicians led small but significant forced sterilization campaigns on indigenous women throughout the 20th century (Pérez, 2020). These patriarchal and racist practices made visible that mestizaje was not a campaign to fuse indigenous and Spanish into one race but to whiten what is indigenous.
During and after the Mexican Revolution, the state only strengthened the mestizo myth and has been used to further state violence. Using academics’ language of scientific racism, the “mestizo” government – led mainly by white Spanish descendants – created racist policies that sought to “mejorar la raza” (“whiten the race”) and solve the “indigenous problem.” The state viewed the indigenous problem as indigenous peoples’ resistance to the state forcing the “mestizo identity” while taking control of their lands and denying different forms of governance other than the Mexican state (Gil, 2022). In response, under the “justification” of integrating (whitening) indigenous peoples, the government pushed racist public policies. The “mestizo” state stole indigenous lands calling them federal land, took control of their resources, and appropriated indigenous peoples’ culture, rebranding their customs as Mexican (Gil, 2022). In other words, the state incorporated indigenous elements into the national brand but excluded them from participating. Moreover, unlike the U.S., the Mexican elite and the Church encouraged miscegenation between white people and indigenous peoples to secure control in other parts of the country by encouraging a mixture that would “whiten their kinship” (Daniel, 2022). During this time, the state promoted European immigration while banning immigration from Africa and Asia (Iturriaga et al., 2021). Clearly, the state sought to “whiten” the population to secure greater political power and continuing to identify as “mestizo” implies continuing to ignore the states’ push for “blanqueamiento” (the whitening of the population).
As the “mestizo” identity continues to be promoted today, state violence against indigenous peoples continues. The adoption of neoliberal practices which violate indigenous sovereignty reflects the push for “blanqueamiento” today. To illustrate, Rosalva Aída Hernández Castillo and Elisa Cruz Rueda argue that despite campaign promises, the current Mexican government of Lopez Manuel Obrador has continued to maintain colonial violence (2021). For instance, the government has sent the national guard to remove Nahua peoples from their agricultural land to defend a thermoelectric plant in Huexca; they have also reduced funding to indigenous institutions and have not adequately consulted indigenous peoples of national
projects on their land (2021). Most notably, Castillo and Rueda evidence that the current federal project “Tren Maya,” a train built across the Yucatec peninsula, is stripping indigenous peoples from their land and resources with no input from them (2021). The “Tren Maya” aims to increase the influx of tourism in the region, which Castillo and Rueda claim will lead to more indigenous displacement and appropriation (Castillo & Rueda, 2021). These extractivist policies are just a few examples that reflect the current Mexican government’s constant violation of indigenous rights. Indigenous peoples who resist assimilation have been relegated to little resources by the state. The Mexican census shows that 70 % of the indigenous people in 2018 lived in poverty (CONEVAL, 2019). Neoliberal policies, supported by international financial institutions, have mostly benefited U.S. corporations and the Mexican elite while deepening inequalities (Moreno, 2021). The privileging of capital for the global north, the continued displacement of indigenous peoples, and the theft of their resources demonstrate that the state has not left the policies of “blanqueamiento” in the past. In other words, Mexican free-market reforms where the global north profits reflect the continuum of Mexico’s racial project.
III. Racism among “mestizos”
With no clear racial identities, racist treatment within the “mestizo” collective is not examined because of our supposed homogeneity; yet colorism illustrates that we are not all treated the same. Not only does the “mestizo” identity legitimize racial state violence, but it also does not help us to understand how racism today operates among the “mestizo” identified. If over two-thirds of the Mexican population today identify as mestizo, how do we understand racial disparities besides the binary indigenous and non-indigenous (mestizo) categorization? (Fernández, 2005). One of the issues in a homogeneous identity lies in not being able to examine racial disparities given the myth that “we are all the same, we are all mestizos.” Undoubtedly, a
family ascribed to the mestizo identity throughout generations has been more capable of building generational wealth since they are full citizens than those that did not – indigenous and afro descendant peoples (Moreno 2010; Amendolara, 2022). Nevertheless, not all “mestizos” were and can build generational wealth equally. Social privileges in Mexico often operate through the perception of how “dis-indigenized” an individual is perceived (Moreno, 2010). Activist circles often refer to those who identify as “mestizo” as “desinidgenizados,” roughly translated as dis indigenized (Chacón, 2021; Ángeles, 2022). Those who are perceived to be further away from any “indigenous” association are more likely to be in higher economic positions and represented in the media and government (Moreno, 2010). Through Moreno Figueroa’s focus groups, skin tones are usually the basis of these perceptions, as those with darker skin tones are more likely to be perceived as indigenous / afro-descendent and those with lighter skin tones as white (2010). This logic describes colorism: discrimination based on skin tone. Hence, depending on how closely aligned are “mestizos” in being perceived as white and in adopting whiteness, they are more able to build generational wealth.
Understanding social privilege as to how “dis-indigenized” an individual is perceived allows us to make racism among “mestizos” visible by examining colorism. By analyzing how lighter skin tones are privileged, we can begin to piece how in-group racism among “mestizos” operates. Recently, anti-racist movements in Mexico have propelled new academic and political discussions on the impact skin tone has on the social mobility of Mexicans. So much so that the Mexican National Survey on Discrimination has asked respondents to describe their skin tone in recent years. The results: while only 18% of the Mexican population describe their skin tone as light/white, people with darker skin tones obtain 52% less yearly income (Tipa, 2019; Ángeles, 2022). Another study by Vanderbilt University found that people with lighter skin tones in
Mexico completed, on average, 11 years of schooling compared to 5 years of schooling that people with darker skin tones completed on average (Zizumbo-Colunga, & Martínez, 2017). These disparities are also reflected in the media as Dr. Juris Tipa found that the vast majority of casting calls look for “international Latinos,” who are described as individuals with lighter skin tones and dark hair (Tipa, 2010). These findings reflect that despite the social privileges associated with ascribing to the “mestizo” identity, those who are perceived more closely to whiteness have greater social mobility. It also confirms that labeling the non-indigenous Mexican population as “mestizo” would obscure these disproportionate disparities based on skin pigmentation.
IV. Embracing our uncategorized shades of brown
If the “mestizo” identity legitimizes and obscures the states’ racial project of whiteness, then we should embrace an uncategorized racial identity. In addition to obscuring how racism manifests, the violence of this identity lies in not being able to recognize a viable racial self concept. Asking family and friends from Mexico how they racially identify, if it was not “mestizo” and “Mexican,” I often received the response of “I do not know.” Even though this might not be representative, in my experience, this literature review has only confused my U.S. Census form. Most Mexican Americans and Latinos in the U.S. often select white in the Census form (Greenwood, 2022). However, in a Pew Research Survey, most Mexican Americans say that others in the U.S. would not perceive them as white, and most would identify as “Hispanic, Latino, or Mexican” when asked about their race in an open-question format (2022). Latino, in this case, also has a similar function to “mestizo” as it also erases race. Literature on white identification in Latin America is scarce, but Alfonso Forssell Méndez, a Mexican Communication science researcher, explores the risk if those whom the state dis-indigenized adopted a white identity. Méndez argues in his article for Revista Común that identifying as “white” or “whitexican” would be aligning with the interests of the Mexican elite, the “bourgeoisie,” and the U.S. capital who benefit from the state’s racial violence (Méndez, 2021). Hence, identifying as white would align with Mexico’s racial project. To acknowledge the racial violence inflicted by the state and to align with anti-racism, a white identity should not be adopted by those who have been generationally dis-indigenized.
On the other side of the coin, “mestizos” aligning with anti-racism might opt to seek an indigenous identity, which depending on the context, can appropriate indigenous peoples’ voices and culture. In the context of growing multicultural and anti-racist discourse, some individuals who have long identified as “mestizo” with an indigenous cultural inheritance or family members might seek to take ownership of the indigenous identity. I do not seek to analyze this case in my discussion. In my case and of many “mestizo” families, we do not have an indigenous cultural inheritance, have indigenous family members, or speak an indigenous language. In this case, Forssell Méndez argues that identifying as indigenous runs the risk of supporting the cultural appropriation of indigenous peoples already supported by the state (Méndez, 2021). Supporting this argument, Rodrigo Chacón, a social science professor at Harvard, writes that to be indigenous is to exist in their community with reciprocal ties (Chacón, 2021). Yet, in Mexico, racial essentialist discourse is prevalent; growing up, my parents and teachers taught me to take pride in “being part indigenous” because “they are part of my blood.” Literature about this racist discourse in Mexico is minimal, but research has shown that these views are related to greater acceptance of social inequality, prejudice, and racial dehumanization (Tsai, 2022). In other words, without existing in reciprocity to an indigenous collective, to choose to identify as indigenous after being dis-indigenized by the state might result in more significant racial
appropriation. We, who are dis-indigenized, are characterized by an empty identity. The state pushes us to whiten ourselves, but we are not white, the state tells us to pride ourselves in indigeneity, but we are not indigenous. So, who are we?
We are uncategorized shades of brown. I am not arguing that we abandon the collective of the dis-indigenized peoples we have become or create a new identity, but to continue identifying as mestizo would support the myth that has only “justified” violence. Through this history, whether we acknowledge it or not, we have inherited customs and culture from believing that we embody this melting pot. To move forward, we must set aside the existential anguish from not having a label and create solidarity with those who have not yet been dis-indigenized and those that the state has erased. We must expose the continuous violence in our lands, bodies, and culture without privileging whiteness. To expose such violence, we must raise questions on how we study power and oppression through our shades of brown, how we should count who is part of the national collective, and how we should even fill out the census form.
WORKS CITED
Agren, D. (2020, March 19). ‘we exist. we’re here: Afro-Mexicans make the census after a long struggle for recognition. The Guardian. Retrieved December 2, 2022, from
Amendolara, G. (2022). Inequality on the Rise: A Study of Inequality in Mexico and Brazil. Global Majority E-Journal, 4.
Ángeles, S. A. (2022, September 5). Las Políticas de Mestizaje Provocan ‘Desindigenización’, Acusa Yásnaya Aguilar. Las políticas de mestizaje provocan ‘desindigenización’, acusa Yásnaya Aguilar. Retrieved December 2, 2022, from https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/en espanol/noticias/ideas/articulo/2022-09-05/las-politicas-de-mestizaje-provocan
desindigenizacion-acusa-yasnaya-aguilar
Chacón, R. (2021, March 31). El No Ser mestizo. Gatopardo. Retrieved December 2, 2022, from https://gatopardo.com/arte-y-cultura/el-no-ser-mestizo-o-indingena-nahua-rodrigo-chacon/
CONEVAL: Consejo Nacional de Evaluación de la Politica de Desrrollo Social. (2019). La pobreza en la población indígena de México 2008-2018.
Daniel, G. R. (2022). From Multiracial to Monoracial: The Formation of Mexican American Identities in the U.S. Southwest. Genealogy, 6(2), 28.
Gil, Y. E. (2022). Never again, Mexico without us? *: Issue #000. Dispatches Journal. Retrieved December 2, 2022, from http://dispatchesjournal.org/articles/never-again-mexico-without-us/
Greenwood, S. (2022, April 28). 4. measuring the racial identity of Latinos. Pew Research Center’s Hispanic Trends Project. Retrieved December 2, 2022, from
Hernández Castillo, R. A., & Rueda, E. C. (2021). ¿ Independencia en tiempos del Tren Maya? Continuum de violencias coloniales contra los indígenas en el México contemporáneo. Mexican Studies/Estudios Mexicanos, 37(3), 394-426.
Hooker, J. (2017). Theorizing Race in the Americas: Douglass, Sarmiento, Du Bois, and Vasconcelos. Oxford University Press.
Iturriaga, E., Gall, O., Morales , D., & Rodríguez , J. (2021). Mestizaje y racismo en México (4th ed.). Consejo Nacional para Prevenir la Discriminación. Retrieved December 2022, from https://www.conapred.org.mx/documentos_cedoc/Mestizaje_Racismo_Mexico_WEB.%20Ax.pdf
Lizcano Fernández, F. (2005). Composición étnica de las tres áreas culturales del continente Americano al comienzo del siglo XXI. Convergencia, 12(38), 185-232.
Manrique, L. (2016). Dreaming of a cosmic race: José Vasconcelos and the politics of race in Mexico, 1920s–1930s. Cogent Arts & Humanities, 3(1), 1218316.
Méndez, A. F. (2021, July 1). Una interpretación materialista del Mestizaje . Retrieved December 2, 2022, from https://revistacomun.com/blog/una-interpretacion-materialista-del-mestizaje/
Moreno, F. (2010). Mestizaje, cotidianeidad y las prácticas contemporáneas del racismo en México. Mestizaje, diferencia y nación.
Moreno, O. (2021). The Impact of Neoliberalism in Mexico: How Free-Market Reforms Have Affected Socio-Economic Mobility.
Pérez, R. (2020). Racismo y ciencia en México.
Tipa, J. (2019). Jóvenes y discriminación fenotipizada en la publicidad comercial y política en México. Vitam. Revista de Investigación en Humanidades, (1), 26-52.
Tipa, J. (2020). “Latino internacional, no güeros, no morenos”. Racismo colorista en la publicidad en México. Boletín de Antropología Universidad de Antioquia, 35(59), 130-153.
Tsai, J. (2022). How Should Educators and Publishers Eliminate Racial Essentialism?. AMA Journal of Ethics, 24(3), 201-211.
Valero, P. (2021). El devenir–blanco del mundo: debates Sur-Norte sobre la blanquitud desde Latinoamérica. Latin American and Caribbean Ethnic Studies, 1-10.
Zizumbo-Colunga, D., & Flores Martínez, I. (2017). Is Mexico a post-racial country? Inequality and skin tone across the Americas. Center for Research and Teaching in Economics (CIDE), Topical Brief, 31, 372.
Massey, D. S., & Denton, N. A. (1992). Racial identity and the spatial assimilation of Mexicans in the United States. Social Science Research, 21(3), 235-260.
Leave a Reply