Reactionary Gender Studies?
The Historiography of Mexican Masculinity
Galadriel Mehera Gerardo
Since the so-called feminist revolution of the
1970s, scholarship on women has become fairly commonplace. Especially within the social sciences,
scholars have increasingly examined women’s lives in past and present
times. Examining the previously ignored
history of women has brought forth an entirely new way of looking at the past,
closely tied with the “new social history” which has emerged in the United
States in recent decades. However, the counterpart of women’s studies, “men’s
studies,” as they relate to men as gendered entities, has failed to proliferate
in the manner women’s studies has. Only
recently have scholars become interested in researching men and masculinity,
and the scholarship has not flourished. Scholarship on masculinity has been
especially sparse within studies of Latin America. The trend seems odd, especially given the common assumption in
Western countries that Latin American men are “machos.” Recently, however, some scholars have
attempted to permeate the uncharted area of study in countries like Mexico.
Mexico proves especially interesting when examining masculinity given its
strong association with the concept of “machismo” in the United States. Western
scholars scrutinizing masculinity in Mexico, therefore, may have chosen the
country as a seemingly quintessential representation of masculinity in all of
Latin America. However, the strongest
scholarship on masculinity in Mexico recognizes what is specifically Mexican
about the expression of masculinity discussed, even assessing the variance of
“masculinities” within Mexico, based on differing regions, classes, ages,
periods, and ethnicities. The
historiography of masculinity in Mexico proves difficult to discuss because of
the variation in Mexican culture, resulting in a variety of discussions of
masculinity. Not only do the few
scholars who have researched Mexican masculinity differ in the region and
periods in which they examine Mexican masculinity, but they also work in
different areas of the social sciences, so they each approach the topic
differently. Yet despite the
differences in mode and method of study, the study of existing scholarship on
Mexican masculinity proves valid because one can observe several trends,
assumptions, and stereotypes in the scholarship which leave it lacking. While one must recognize the existing
scholarship on Mexican masculinity proves revolutionary if only because it
represents the first example of a new field of study, one must also acknowledge
and anatomize its faults in order to insure more valid conclusions on the
subject in future studies. While the
works on Mexican masculinity both differ and agree depending on the aspect of
masculinity discussed, they all represent similar failings because of source
problems, a tendency to base their arguments on stereotypical notions, and a
failure to employ an interdisciplinary approach. Future scholarship on masculinity may learn from these
shortcomings and embrace the merits of the current scholarship, producing a
better-rounded and realistic depiction of Mexican men, both past and present.
Background:
Oscar Lewis and the Origin of the Term “Machismo”
Intrinsic to all studies of
Mexican masculinity is the term “machismo,” a word used as the stereotype of
Mexican men, portraying them as estranged from their wives and children, prone
towards violence for no particular reason, and forcing the complete subjugation
of women to men.[1] The origin of the term machismo remains
unclear. Matthew Gutmann, an anthropologist who studied masculinity in a
working class community in Mexico City, expresses the belief machismo is a new
concept that emerged in the 1940s and is tied to Mexican cinema.[2] Although Gutmann shies away from completely
attributing the emergence of machismo to cinema alone, he insists the concept
emerged recently, yet he does not examine the source of the word itself, nor
whether the stereotype associated with it actually emerged for the first time
in the 1940s. The term is obviously
tied to the much older word “macho,” which does not carry the negative
connotations attached to machismo,[3]
and in Mexico is used as a synonym for "boy" or "man." In her study of the phenomena of
“marianismo,” the female counterpart to machismo, Evelyn Stevens examines the
roots of marianismo, tracing them back as far as the early Mesopotamian
cultures.[4] However, Stevens examines the traits associated with the concept of marianismo (a word invented
by scholars to catalog the stereotype of Latin American women which juxtaposes
them against Latin American men), not the derivatives
of the word itself.
Despite the creation of the
word marianismo by scholars, few have questioned the origin of the word
machismo and its accuracy in describing Mexican men. The Oxford English dictionary supports Gutmann’s statement that
the word machismo indeed emerged in the mid-twentieth century, claiming the word
originated in the United States in the 1940s, deriving from the Spanish word
macho.[5] Of five Spanish dictionaries examined,[6]
only one contains the word machismo, and it is a dictionary published in the
United States for English speakers learning colloquial Spanish.[7] Therefore the origin of the term machismo,
and its validity as a concept consciously considered by Mexican men, remains
uncertain. Such evidence as well as Gutmann’s assertion that machismo was “created”
during the 1940s seems to make using the word in scholarly discussions of
Mexican masculinity prior to that decade invalid. However, regardless of the origin of the word, some of the
characteristics it describes doubtlessly did exist in Mexican society for
centuries before the 1940s. The danger
of using the word machismo emerges when scholars describe Mexican men as
consciously considering the concept of machismo, assuming machismo (the ideal
form of masculinity) dictates their behavior.
While the word macho may have been used among Mexicans for some time,
there is no proof machismo was.
Furthermore, many scholars use the more subtle term of “honor,” to
describe the motivation for Latin American men “defending” their masculinity in
certain situations.[8] Western scholars today have yet to prove the
term machismo is or was commonly used or understood among Mexicans in Mexico;
instead, as Gutmann points out, scholars tend to assume the prevalence of the
term among Chicanos in the United States implies a similar understanding in
Mexico, which is not necessarily the case.
Gutmann further asserts the term itself is associated with North
American racism towards Mexicans, and he goes so far as to attribute the word
machismo to North Americans' need to differentiate themselves from a “backward”
sense of masculinity among a “lower” people.[9]
The question of the
emergence of the term machismo brings forth another problem when examining
assumptions in works on Mexican masculinity.
In his rebuttal of the concept of machismo as a natural and all
encompassing characteristic among Mexican men, Gutmann blames Oscar Lewis for
popularizing the term.[10] Lewis, an American anthropologist, conducted
pioneering research on Mexican masculinity in the 1940s and 1950s. His influence can be seen in the works of
contemporary scholars of Mexican masculinity, and many discuss their opinions
of his work. While Gutmann appears
critical of Lewis for perpetuating the negative stereotype of the macho mexicano,[11]
he points out much of the negative repercussions of Lewis’ work emerged from
scholars' failure to analyze it and because recent scholars have used some of
Lewis’ passages out of context.[12] Though many criticize Lewis for creating the
image of the lazy Mexican man who beats his wife and wastes his days drinking,
Gutmann points out that while Lewis does present Mexican men as secondary in
household importance to their wives, he also notes the importance of active
parenting among poor Mexican men, providing a less one-dimensional, purely
macho image.[13] Steve Stern, who discusses gender in late
colonial Mexico, also recognizes the influence of Lewis on his work. Although Stern appears to favor Lewis’ work,
he notes that Lewis presents a “morbid” picture of Mexican peasant life. However, the problems Stern notes concerning
Lewis’ work relate to his depiction of women, not men. He advocates reading
between the lines of Lewis’ “pre-feminist” discourse to find female opposition
within adherence to patriarchy.[14] However, Stern does not challenge Lewis’
ideas about men and masculinity, apparently agreeing with the concept of
machismo. James Taggart also examines
Lewis’ work, using Lewis’ depiction of Mexican men as a stereotype, which his
own research will either refute or reinforce.[15]
While Taggart juxtaposes Lewis’ work to
Matthew Gutmann’s, he falls victim to the simplistic reading and sensationalist
focus on specific incidents that Gutmann warns leads to misinterpretations of
Lewis’ work.
Oscar Lewis proves an
important influence on all of the contemporary scholars of Mexican masculinity;
he researched the subject at a time when Westerners had little interest in
studying masculinity, especially in “third world” countries. His studies prove useful if only as
observations of Mexican family life during the 1940s, of which little else
exists. However, his work must be taken
with a grain of salt. Lewis wrote
during a time when anthropologists practiced a sort of didactic cultural
“othering,” also regarded as cultural imperialism, in which the standards of
one culture were applied to another, resulting in a critical portrayal of the
studied culture as intrinsically “different,” or “backward.” While Lewis conducted groundbreaking
research on Mexican masculinity, he was a product of his times. Most contemporary scholars recognize the
biases present in Lewis’ work. However,
their ability to come to terms with its influence on their own work, and their
recognition of stereotypes perpetrated by Lewis’ work, varies.
Characteristics
of Mexican Masculinity and How Masculinity Is Constructed
Scholars analyzing Mexican
masculinity must initially consider what “being a man” means in Mexico in the
time and place they discuss as well as search for the ways this image of
masculinity is created. The scholars
appraised here look at Mexican masculinity in different periods and regions.
Matthew Gutmann, as aforementioned, conducted an anthropological study of
working class Mexican men in the colonia
Santo Domingo in Mexico City. Historian
Steve Stern attempted to understand greater trends in Mexican gender identities
in the late colonial period by examining three cities with different ethnic
compositions. Annick Prieur explored
masculinity as it relates to homo- and bisexuality in a contemporary barrio outside Mexico City. In another contemporary study, Susanna
Rostas examined Concheros dancers in Mexico City. And finally, historian James Taggart scrutinized the folktales of
a contemporary Nahuat “Indian” in Mexico, assessing them for greater indications
about Mexican male identity. Although
the authors often discuss similar issues concerning Mexican masculinity, they
also often arrive at differing conclusions and present seemingly contradictory
arguments. This may occur because
expressions of masculinity in Mexico vary across time and region, not
necessarily because one scholar is right and another wrong.
In her study of the
Concheros (groups of Mexicans of partial “Indian” blood who participate in
Aztec dances), Susanna Rostas provides a fairly stereotypical image of Mexican
men. According to Rostas, Mexican men primarily define masculinity in
opposition to femininity.[16] She also conforms to the idea that mestizo males embody machismo, spending
time bonding with other men and using and abusing women.[17] While Rostas attempts to defy the dominant
stereotype by noting Mexican men are often close to their mothers and possess
the ability to cry, she does not expose many other characteristics which defy
the image of machismo, nor does she seem to disagree with the stereotype as a
useful way of categorizing Mexican men.
Like Rostas, Annick Prieur
examines contemporary expressions of Mexican masculinity, but in a very
different setting. Mirroring Rostas’
argument, Prieur often reinforces negative stereotypes associated with Mexican
masculinity. Prieur focuses on the
sexual characteristics that constitute masculinity. Prieur asserts (without any quantitative data) that many contemporary
urban working-class men in Mexico engage in homosexual acts at some point in
their lives,[18] thus
validating his own discussion of Mexican expression of masculinity based on the
role men play in homosexual encounters.
According to Prieur, engaging in sex with other men does not make a man
less masculine; in fact, being the penetrator, whether of a man or a woman,
enhances one’s masculinity.[19] Prieur, like Rostas, sees men’s perception
of masculinity as juxtaposed against femininity. Being penetrated implies being feminine, polluted, and
submissive, while penetrating a feminine person (whether male or female),
serves as an expression of masculinity.[20] Prieur interprets men’s domination in
homosexual acts as a means of defining oneself as masculine, in opposition to
women or homosexuals.[21] He further explains masculinity was partly
defined as being the opposite of femininity when attributing men’s desire to
sexually dominate and drink excessively as a need to separate themselves from
characteristics associated with women, such as humility and willingness to
forgive.[22] Prieur also perpetuates the idea that
machismo prevails among working class, urban Mexican men. He cites machismo and
homophobia as traits present in penetrators that help define them as men.[23] Throughout the essay Prieur focuses on
characteristics definitive of masculinity which conform to the idea of
machismo, including extreme sexual desire, a tendency towards violence, and
participation in a secret “men’s world” women are left out of.
Steve Stern also analyzes
masculine characteristics as conforming to the concept of “machismo.” Because Stern’s discourse focuses on
violence, his discussion of masculine qualities centers on their expression
through domestic and local violence, although he also addresses stereotypical
notions such as heavy drinking. Stern
asserts that the ability to dominate socially and sexually characterized
masculinity in late colonial Mexico.[24] He attributes construction of masculinity to
the undefined term “society,” which forces men to conceive of masculinity in
terms of power relations.[25] Power relations involved not only relations
between husbands and wives, but also between a man and his male friends or a
mestizo and “ethnically superior” men.
According to Stern, among the defining characteristics of masculinity,
those which implied power through association with ethnic or economic privilege
proved most influential. Thus a man’s
role as a provider served as a valid characteristic of masculinity, because
keeping wives and children at home was an expression of economic success.[26] However, Stern also explores the variation
of qualities defining masculinity based on men’s social standing, which
dictated their ability to fulfill the upper-class “ideal” of masculinity.[27] Stern notes that while some continuity of
idealized masculinity existed across classes, the lower classes did not simply
accept the ideals of their social superiors.[28] Instead, they adapted masculinity to their
particular situations, combining competence, courage, and adversary toward the
upper class to create an ideal of masculinity that resembled that espoused by
the upper class, but suited the restrictions of poverty.[29] And while Stern attributes much of the
“general” internalizing of masculine identity to Mexican society, he notes the
importance of the Mexican family in conditioning the specifically “subaltern”
style of masculinity in lower-class men.[30] Stern, therefore, while asserting the
validity of the machismo stereotype in describing Mexican men, also wishes to
adapt the stereotype to include variants that existed based on class, region,
and ethnicity.[31]
In yet another discussion of
Mexican masculinity, James Taggart examines the characteristics associated with
Mexican masculinity and the ways in which they are constructed. Because Taggart’s study focuses on only two
examples -- a Spanish man and a Nuhuat Indian in Mexico -- he discusses Nahuat
concepts about masculinity more than “Mexican” gender identity, although he
does include what he views as “Spanish-speaking Mexican” concepts of
masculinity in order to juxtapose them against Nuhuat ideas. Taggart, seemingly believing the opinions
espoused by Oscar Lewis, describes the Spanish-speaking poor urban Mexican man
as authoritarian, critical, and unsympathetic toward family members.[32] Although Nacho, the Nahuat man Taggart studies,
tells stories describing men with characteristics similar to those told by
Spanish-speaking men, Taggart asserts Nacho’s disapproval of traditional
machismo qualities is observable in the fact he distances himself from the
heroes in his stories.[33] Additionally, Taggart does not describe
Nacho’s disapproval of machismo-like qualities as a personal preference, but as
a sense of masculinity present in Nahuats in general. According to Taggart, Nacho attributes strength, courage, and
assertiveness to Spanish-speakers’ sense of masculinity (an assumption Taggart
apparently agrees with),[34]
while his own sense of masculinity revolves around consideration for others and
a desire to provide for one’s family.[35] In asserting the novelty of Nahuat men’s
perception of masculinity, Taggart reinforces the idea “other” Mexican men
define themselves as the opposite of women.
Nahuats, on the other hand, respect women, and define their masculinity
in different ways.[36] Additionally, Taggart claims masculinity is
constructed through cultural influences, families, individual experiences, and
specifically through ideas contained in folk tales.[37]
While confronting interesting aspects of Nahuat gender dynamics, Taggart at the
same time employs the stereotype of machismo as the epitome of Spanish-speaking
Mexican expression of masculinity, thus contributing to an already negative
stereotype.
Matthew Gutmann presents a
different set of traits as definitive of Mexican masculinity than those
presented by the other authors. Although
Gutmann studies only a small group of Mexican men in a particular neighborhood
of Mexico City, he is the only author to fight the image of machismo. For example, as opposed to the picture most
scholars paint of Mexican masculinity meaning constant promiscuous sex, Gutmann
describes masturbation as one of the defining characteristics of masculinity,
at least among non-married men.[38] At the same time, Gutmann reinforces the
idea that sexual desire is a definitive characteristic of Mexican men, but he
divides this notion from the concept of Mexican men wanting to “spread their
seed,” and thus “conquer” or “dominate” women.[39] And while Gutmann notes many Mexican men in
the colonia Santo Domingo still
viewed drunkenness as a masculine quality, it was actually not a requisite for
fulfilling the role of a man, and was also becoming an increasingly degendered
activity.[40] Gutmann also notes the emergence of active
parenting, economic providing, and taking part in housework (though usually
manual as opposed to domestic tasks) as other defining characteristics of
masculinity.[41] Gutmann especially emphasizes the importance
of parenting, asserting that “how children turned out” was also a significant
definer of masculinity.[42] And while Gutmann notes the continued
existence of wife beating in colonia
Santo Domingo, he claims it no longer characterizes mainstream notions of
masculinity, but instead results from specific social circumstances that make
men feel powerless.[43] His argument parallels Heidi Tinsman’s discussion
of wife beating in Chile, which she convincingly describes as the result of
changing economic conditions that affected men’s ability to fulfill their ideal
of masculinity.[44] Yet Gutmann takes his argument one step
further, noting that men who partake in wife beating use the supposed “machismo
culture” as a scapegoat which they can blame their actions on. Gutmann, like
many others, notes the importance of society and the family in conditioning
concepts of masculinity, paying particular attention to the role played by
changing social circumstances and economic situations. Gutmann argues the qualities which
constitute masculinity in contemporary colonia
Santo Domingo include active parenting, ability to provide for one’s family,
and sexual activity not necessarily indicative of domination, qualities
conditioned more by changing social and economic circumstances than a timeless
perception of what it means to be a Mexican man.
Several overarching themes
exist throughout the works of the various authors. For one thing, the authors all contend Mexican men view
masculinity as the opposite of femininity, and they assert the juxtaposition
provides one of the primary ways men construct their gendered identities. However, if this is the case, how does one
reconcile the fact men needed to avoid feminine characteristics such as
sympathy and compassion, as asserted by Prieur, with the fact they were active,
caring fathers, as described by Gutmann, or able to cry and express emotion, as
Rostas depicted them? One could argue
the various authors discuss the same theme in various times and regions, and
therefore their arguments inevitably will not reconcile with one another. However, often times the authors can not
reconcile that the concept masculinity was defined in opposition to femininity
with their own hypotheses. For example,
Gutmann argues male identities are often created as the opposite of women,[45]
yet his book focuses on “alternative” depictions of Mexican masculinity, describing
men as active parents and involved homemakers.
If the men Gutmann describes indeed fulfilled such “alternative” gender
identities by participating in activities Gutmann notes the men recognized as
traditionally female, how then could they define their sense of manhood in
opposition to femininity? Other
authors, such as Stern, simply present the argument without providing any
evidence or examples to illustrate the point.
The fact that eighteenth century men grew angry when their wives did not
have tortillas waiting for them after work does not necessarily indicate a
tendency to determine one’s gender identity as the converse of femininity. The authors encounter problems in
attributing an anti-feminine quality to Mexican men’s construction of masculinity
because the idea either conflicts with their arguments, or no evidence exists
to support such a claim. For these
reasons, the believability of the concept Mexican men construct (or
constructed) their gendered identity based on a juxtaposition to female
identity remains questionable.
Another characteristic many
authors attribute to masculine identity, violence and desire to dominate,
receives vastly different treatments.
Stern, who emphasizes violence as a characteristic of masculinity to the
greatest extreme, notes several aspects of male violence. While Stern makes a great effort to dispel
the belief in descarga violence—violence
which men committed without intense provocation—he depicts violence as highly
gendered, an attempt on behalf of lower-class men to retain their sense of
masculinity in the only way they saw as suitable.[46] Given the men’s class subjugation, Stern
depicts violence, including domestic violence, as a reasonable expression of
the men’s desire to re-claim their sense of masculinity. For Stern, therefore, where gender relations
were intrinsically tied to a power hierarchy, and “subaltern” men had few means
to protest their situation, violence was naturally the definitive way of
embodying masculinity. In contrast,
Gutmann does not view violence as a characteristic of masculinity. Instead, he
implies the “fictitious” notion of machismo, with its emphasis on male
violence, provides men with a scapegoat for actions which are not used to
fulfill a characteristic of masculine gender identity, but instead are a
reaction to various external circumstances.
Taggart depicts violence as a defining trait of masculinity among
Spanish-speaking Mexicans, but not among Nuhuats. Yet in a contradictory manner, he ends his book with a description
of violence between the two groups, seemingly contradicting his argument
concerning the masculine ideal among Nuhuats.[47] In fact, the episode described by Taggart
coincides with Stern's discussion of violence as prevalent among men in Indian
communities, one of the characteristics which Stern argues joined the masculine
identities of men from various regions and ethnicities in Mexico.[48] Stern describes violence as a means for
dispirited men to assert their masculinity in circumstances when they felt
their "manliness" challenged by their subjugation to their social
superiors. While Gutmann's discussion
sheds insight on domestic violence in contemporary times, Stern's argument
provides a better model for understanding the gendered dynamics of violence on
a broader scope, and despite some generalizations, Stern provides a convincing
argument concerning the psychology behind male violence and its importance in
constituting a male identity among the lower classes.
Machismo: Fact
or Fiction?
All the authors also discuss
the concept of machismo in their discourses on what qualities make up
masculinity. Some do not question the validity or existence of the concept at
all; Prieur asserts a machismo attitude defines a man as masculine, neither
defining machismo nor defending his claim.[49] Rostas and Taggart both offhandedly use the
term as an overarching ideal of Mexican masculinity, but do not address it as
primary to their arguments. Stern and
Gutmann, however, look at the concept of machismo from a more theoretical
standpoint. Gutmann questions whether the quality exists at all among Mexican
men, while Stern assumes a degree of validity to the term, and explores the
nuances within machismo, which he dubs commonly overlooked.
Stern bases his discussion
of machismo—which he argues exists—on the prevalence of violence and need to
subjugate women that he finds prevalent in the court records he uses as his
primary sources. By examining three
regions in Mexico with differing social and ethnic structure, in all of which
he finds various degrees of machismo present, Stern asserts the validity of the
concept.[50] While he explains some characteristics of
machismo, especially violence, emerged for different reasons and in different
degrees in different regions, their presence nonetheless convinces Stern of an
all encompassing ideal of masculinity, despite its regional diversity.[51] Stern goes so far as to assert machismo not
only was a prevalent quality cross-regionally and among various ethnicities in
late colonial Mexico, but that the same machismo sentiment exists among men in
contemporary Mexico.[52] He bases his conclusion on his personal
observations in contemporary Mexico, recent ethnographies, and gendered
patriarchal language in politicians' speeches.[53] Therefore, several examples of violence and
patriarchal rhetoric prove sufficient to convince Stern of the widespread
existence of machismo in contemporary times.
Moreover, his assumption concerning the prevalence of machismo in late
colonial Mexico is based on one particular trait associated with the machismo
stereotype, violence, which he finds evidence of in a very limited source.
Gutmann examines machismo in
quite a different manner. As previously
mentioned, Gutmann questions the very existence of machismo as a long term
trend of Mexican male gender identity, believing it emerged in the 1940s. Gutmann claims not to find any pure example
of machismo during his observation. Rather, he meets a variety of men who each
embody a combination of male identities.[54] Moreover, he asserts that while he could
invent four categories of men in colonia
Santo Domingo, none of the men would actually define themselves in such a
manner, and no man could fit into only one category.[55] He combines this assessment with the fact
the men he meets consider the labels macho and machismo negative to support his
belief in the nonexistence of machismo.
While Gutmann's argument
proves fairly believable, it also expresses optimism about masculinity. While the term machismo may have recently
emerged, and while the idea of an overarching gender identity which applies in
some degree to all Mexican men may be valid, one cannot discount the theme of
machismo too quickly. Apparently
aspects which contemporary scholars attribute to the machismo ideology existed
in previous time (and still exist today), although they may have not been part
of a larger "value system," and they may not have been conceptualized
as machismo among the men who performed them.
Perhaps the qualities attributed to machismo—violence, drinking,
household dominance, lack of emotion, and a general desire to subjugate
women—should be taken apart and viewed as individual phenomena. Such an assessment might yield a deeper and
more historically based understanding of the phenomenon so long dubbed
machismo. For example, the apparent
prevalence of wife beating throughout Mexican history may have nothing to do
with a machismo sense of masculinity, but rather with economic circumstances,
such as those suggested by Tinsman and Gutmann, which have prevailed among
certain classes of Mexicans throughout time.
Moreover, closer examination of the individual characteristics of
machismo might yield various statistics; for example, perhaps wife beating is
prevalent among lower class men, and lack of emotional attachment among upper
class men, but not vice versa. Such a
reassessment of machismo is necessary for understanding the true nature of how
Mexican men have defined their gender identities throughout time and depending
on class and ethnicity.
The Problem of Sources
Part of the problem with the
discussion of machismo and masculinity more generally derives from the sources
used. Many scholars writing on Mexican
masculinity are anthropologists, and therefore base their conclusions only on
observational research. Gutmann and
Prieur both serve as examples of the shortcomings of this kind of scholarship.
Both spent time living among the men they studied in Mexico City neighborhoods,
and they base their arguments on their observations and interviews. However, neither author situates his
argument historically. Prieur examines contemporary masculinity in a “here and
now” sense, apparently not recognizing the undefined term “society” they so
often refer to reflects the history of the people and places it encompasses. Because the two authors never discuss the
historical background of masculinity in Mexico, they can ultimately never
present an innovative discussion of how and why masculinity is constructed in
the way they observe it expressed.
Gutmann’s discussion of machismo, for example, loses credence because he
does not explain how the term originated in the past, nor does he provide
examples from the past to refute or reinforce the stereotype of machismo. Ignorance of the history of machismo proves
especially detrimental to Gutmann’s argument because he argues the expression
of masculinity he observes is a recent phenomenon, conditioned by recent social
and economic changes. Yet he does not
discuss the social and economic situations which determined a different
expression of masculinity in the past, nor does he even explicitly describe
past expressions of masculinity.
Although a historian,
Taggart encounters similar source problems.
Because Taggart uses oral history as his primary evidence, he too tends to
ignore past concepts of masculinity and their influence on creating a gender
identity in contemporary Mexican men.
Additionally, Taggart suffers from a dearth of sources, apparently
feeling that because his sources prove innovative means he does not need to
cross-reference them with more traditional sources. Taggart bases his entire argument on two oral history interviews,
one from a Spanish man and one from a Nahuat Indian man in Mexico. While Taggart’s discussion of myths as a
valid form of cultural expression proves valid, his gaping generalizations
based on two oral history accounts of myths appear unbelievable. Taggart believes that Nacho’s depiction of
men in his retelling of myths provides an adequate means of understanding
Nahuat gender identity in general, despite the fact Nacho’s uniqueness of
opinion compared to other Nahuat men appears obvious when Taggart recounts the
violence of the men in a confrontation with Spanish-speaking Mexicans.[56] Moreover, Taggart makes assumptions about
the gender identities of Spanish-Speaking Mexicans which he provides no
evidence for, save perhaps a few secondary sources and the assumption the sense
of masculinity espoused by a Spanish-speaking Spanish man must be shared by a
Spanish-speaking Mexican man.
Unlike the other scholars,
Steve Stern does situate his argument historically, and uses historical
documentation to back up his remarks.
However, Stern’s sources are essentially flawed in several ways. For one thing, Stern only uses one type of
documentation, court records, which many people would view as evidence of
deviant behavior as opposed to a social norm.
Stern argues the sources do in fact display normal, everyday gendered
relations, perhaps to greater extremes than usual, and not simply evidence of deviance. He bases his argument on the fact the people
in the court cases were not “loners,” but people connected to families,
implying they exemplified “normal” behavior.[57] Additionally, Stern argues his sources are
not only valid but provide the “hidden voices” of poor people disguised or
absent in other sources.[58] Historian Richard Boyer believes Stern’s
argument that criminal records express normal life experiences, based on the
huge sample of criminal cases Stern examines.[59] Historian Susan Socolow, on the other hand,
finds problems with the types of sources Stern uses, believing them to be
generic and misused. According to
Socolow, historians of the New Latin American Cultural History tend to use one
or two cases to make sweeping claims about all of society.[60] Despite Stern’s claim to the enormity of his
sources, one cannot ignore the partial validity of Socolow’s comment, given the
fact Stern constantly refers to the same examples. And even if one accepts Stern’s argument that court records do
provide an example of dominant behavior patterns, the use of one type of source
alone cannot validly portray historical nuances such as gender roles,
identities, and construction.
Conclusion: Proposed
Directions for Future Scholarship
While the works of contemporary
social scientists examining gender in Mexico possess flaws, they also prove
triumphant. Each work possesses merits,
and they provide a steady groundwork on which future scholarship will build.
One can imagine that if the techniques employed by Gutmann and Stern were
combined, an extremely accurate portrayal of Mexican masculinity (or
masculinities) might emerge. The two
biggest obstacles remaining in the path of scholarship on masculinity remain
the stereotype of machismo and the failure to incorporate interdisciplinary
sources. Once scholars remove the
concept of machismo from their scholarly framework altogether, they will stop
wasting time looking for evidence to prove or disprove the existence of a concept
which may have been constructed by academia itself, and probably never existed
in the “universal whole” implied by older works such as Oscar Lewis’. The concept of machismo inevitably clouds
scholars ability to view evidence concerning Mexican masculinity objectively,
and therefore it should be discarded until a more realistic, nuanced, and
unbiased depiction of masculinity emerges as a comparison. Such a result can only be achieved through
employing an interdisciplinary approach both to theory and sources. As made obvious in the current scholarship,
resolutely anthropological or historical studies prove inadequate. A melding of traditional and non-traditional
historical sources, as well as anthropological observation and interviews, will
provide the strongest and most convincing scholarship on Mexican masculinity in
the future.[61]
[1] James Taggart, The Bear and His Sons (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1997), 1.
[2] Matthew Gutmann, The Meanings of Macho: Being a Man in Mexico City (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996), 222.
[3] J. A. Simpson and E. S .C. Weiner, eds, The Oxford English Dictionary, 2nd. Edition., Volume IX, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989), 160.
[4] Evelyn Stevens, “Marianismo: The Other Face of Machismo,” in Confronting Change, Challenging Tradition: Women in Latin American History (Wilmington, DE: A Scholarly Resource, Inc., 1994), 3-17.
[5] The Oxford English Dictionary, 160-1.
[6] Salley Davies, ed., Mexican Spanish: A Rough Phrase Book (London: Lexus, 1996).
G. Gomez de Silva, Elsevier’s Concise Etymological Dictionary (Amsterdam: Elsevier Science Publishers B.V., 1985).
Diccionario Critico Etimologico de la Lenga Castellana, Volume III (Bern, Switzerland: A. Frank A.G. , 1995).
Vincente Garcia De Diego, Diccionario Etimologico Espanol y Hispanico, 2nd edition, (Madrid: Espansa-Calpe, 1995).
[7] A. Bryon Gerrard, Cussell’s Colloquial Spanish (New York: Mac Millian Publishing Co. Inc., 1980).
[8] Verena Martinez-Alier, Marriage, Class, and Colour in Nineteenth-Century Cuba (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1989), 120-1.
[9] Gutmann., 240.
[10] Ibid., 231.
[11] Ibid., 231
[12] Ibid., 247-8.
[13] Ibid., 248.
[14] Steve J. Stern, The Secret History of Gender: Women, Men, and Power in Late Colonial Mexico (Chappel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1995).
[15] Taggart, 67.
[16] Susanna Rostas, “The Production of Gendered Imagery: The Concheros of Mexico,” in Machos, Mistresses, Madonnas: Contesting the Power of Latin American Gender Imagery ( New York: Verso, 1996), 217.
[17] Rostas, 218.
[18] Annick Prieur, “Domination and Desire: Male Homosexuality and the Construction of Masculinity in Mexico,” in Machos, Mistresses, Madonnas (New York: Verso, 1996), 89.
[19] Prieur, 100.
[20] Ibid., 94-5.
[21] Ibid., 99.
[22] Ibid., 93.
[23] Ibid., 100.
[24] Stern, 157.
[25] Ibid., 160.
[26] Ibid., 162.
[27] Ibid., 178.
[28] Ibid., 168.
[29] Ibid., 179.
[30] Ibid., 170-1.
[31] Ibid., 182.
[32] Taggart, 67.
[33] Ibid., 63.
[34] Ibid., 48.
[35] Ibid., 243.
[36] Ibid., 244.
[37] Ibid., 15, 19, 244, 246.
[38] Gutmann, 142.
[39] Ibid., 143.
[40] Ibid., 174, 177.
[41] Ibid., 32, 70,149, 151, 156.
[42] Ibid., 70.
[43] Ibid., 220.
[44] Heidi Tinsman, “Household Patrones: Wife-Beating and Sexual Control in Rural Chile, 1964-1988,” in The Gendered Worlds of Latin American Women Workers (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1997), 264-96.
[45] Gutmann, 257.
[46] Stern, 156.
[47] Taggart, 247.
[48] Stern, 228-51.
[49] Prieur, 100.
[50] Stern, 182-183.
[51] Ibid., 297-298.
[52] Ibid., 323.
[53] Ibid., 323-5.
[54] Gutmann, 222.
[55] Ibid., 237-8.
[56] Taggart, 247.
[57] Stern, 50.
[58] Ibid., 38.
[59] Richard Boyer, review of The Secret History of Gender, by Steve Stern. Hispanic American Historical Review 77 (1997): 314-5.
[60] Susan M. Socolow, “Putting the ‘Cult’ in ‘Culture’,” Hispanic American Historical Review 79(1999): 358-9.