WITHOUT PREJUDICE

Dominion, Volume 21, Issue 9, 5 October 1927, Page 10

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

NOTES AT RANDOM

(By

T.D.H.)

Mexico, which is now indulging in another attempted revolution, rather favours this way of getting a new President into the saddle. It set up business as an independent State in 1822, but up to 1884 only two of its previous fifty-two Presidents, dictators, and rulers had succeeded to that office by election as prescribed by the Constitution, and all the rest had simply grabbed the position. This was all changed under the late President Diaz, who with one interval of four years lasted out as President from 1876 until 1911. General Diaz was the son of an innkeeper and had Indian blood in his veins. He was the only man who has ever succeeded in keeping order among the 150 Indian tribes that make up the greater part of the population of Mexico. But even Diaz failed in, the end, and threw his hand in with a rebellion in progress.

Since then discord has reigned. President Madero, who succeeded Diaz, was murdered in 1913. In 1920 President Carranza fled and was shortly afterwards killed, and then General Obregon was elected President for a while. A lot of people think General Obregon has more chance than anyone else in sight of producing some semblance of order in Mexico, but the public there seems to prefer politics with a thrill in it. General Obregon, according to the news this morning, appears now to be out bombing the other Presidential candidates. He has a personality that makes a great appeal to the Mexican masses. A chief attraction about him is that part of him is missing. He lost his right arm a good many years ago. A politician with missing parts is said to have a high sentimental value in Mexico. General Obregon’s arm was shot, off in settling a Parliamentary point of order, or something of that sort, and according to him it was only recovered for interment by luring it from its hiding place with a piece of gold. • < *

Another Mexican General who became a national hero in consequence of a missing limb was General Santa Anna, the Obregon of a former day. He lost a leg in opposing a body of French invaders at Vera Cruz. His popularity at once rose to undreamed of heights. The leg was carried to Mexico City was a guard of honour, and in the midst of a tremendous demonstration it was buried in the centre of the city, under a great monument. Later on General Santa lost his popularity, owing to his ill-success in the war with the United States. The disgusted populace thereupon tore down the monument to his heroic leg, unearthed the decayed bone, and threw it into a dung-heap. General Santa Anna, it seems, had relied on his lost leg keeping his end up for ever. If he had had the presence of ,

mind to lose another leg _or two against the United States, his career might have been different.

General Obregon, apart from the emotional appeal of his lost arm, is said to have qualities above those qt the ordinary rnn of Mexican politicians. Some years ago lie was reported as saving that he wished .the Mexicans would spend as much time in learning to use a tooth-brush as on learning to use a rifle. He is half Basque in blood—a descendant of the sturdy people of the Pyrenees, who are neither French nor Spanish—and the other half of him is Maya Indian, and Mava Indians are said to be much more stable in make-up than the Aztec Indians, from whom many leading Mexicans spring.

General Obregon is about forty-seven vears old, and is described as an impressive figure, standing six feet—a great height for a Mexican—and weighing 180 pounds. He is well educated and a great reader. Also, he has a sense of humour. Once when wounded in battle he lost consciousness, and when telling of the incident afterward he said: “It was a very efficient staff 1 had; when I regained consciousness I found they had already amassed my watch and pocketbook.” To the Spanish novelist, Blasco Ibanez, Obregon was one of the most interesting persons lie met in Mexico, and he told of him divertingly. Th? two dined together, and in'the course of the dinner conversed on many matters.

The General confessed to the novelist that he also had written a book. It was the story of his campaigns. AU warriors had written such books since Julius Caesar. Whv should not.Obregon indulge in his set of “Commentaries.” Obregon, Senor Ibanez relates, began to twirl his sharp-pointed, upturning moustache, and, smiling in pride at his own modesty, he lay back on his divan. “When I was Minister of war, at a banquet at the President’s House one day, the Dutch representative, who was a military man, came up to me and said, ‘General, from what branch of the service did you come—artillery, cavalry. In view of my victories he thought I must be a professional soldier. Imagine his astonishment when I told ”. m I had been a chick-pea dealer ill Sonora! He refused to believe it. • • *

The General stopped a moment to enjov the impression his words were making on the assemblage He> continued: “Another Ume the .Gem a Minister came to me, and in E’s sh° r , abrupt accent, said to me: General, I have read your book, and I need two copies of it, one for my Emperor, and. the other for the archives ot the German General Staff. The people back in Berlin are much interested in vouThey are astounded that a plain civilian, without military training, has been able to conduct such noteworthy and original campaigns. Mr Ibanez said he supposed the General had given the books. “No, I don’t care for honours like that. I told him he could find them in the book stores if he wanted them. And I suppose he bought them and sent them on home.” . • “The Japanese Minister also asked my permission to translate the book into Japanese. My campaigns seem to have aroused a good deal of interest °'“Has the translation appeared yet? the novelist tactlessly mqni«d. “I don’t know. I don t bother about Sl^'?iong tt sile S nce then descended on the conversation. < the gulls. They came in flood-time, suddenly, from And fill this quiet valley, far inland, With echoes of wild mirth and savageryThey ride at pleasure o’er the drowning sheep have for their Like strange P white ships in foreign Which'enter k into harbour, fold their to rest beside an alien strfinil) • While those ashore dream of s voice in unknown language; fierce, dark faces hatchways, and the decks are manned With forms half seen, and but half un —Marguerite Few in the Londp# “Qb®err«r.'*