Slippery Nepotism

This week, the Senate approved the presidential initiative for constitutional reform to prohibit, so to speak, nepotism in elected office. Unlike other initiatives, this time the senators dared to change more than a comma in the initiative so that it would come into effect in 2030, instead of 2027 as originally proposed by Claudia Sheinbaum. A couple of weeks ago I discussed the prohibition of consecutive reelection, and now I will focus on the somewhat more cosmetic issue of so-called “electoral nepotism.”

The initiative prohibits candidates for elected office – legislative, executive and/or municipal – who must not “have or have had in the last three years prior to the day of the election” a relationship as a couple or a blood or civil relationship (up to a certain limit) with the persons holding each of these offices. Specifically, this means that no person may aspire to the same elected office (note here) that their partner or relative held in the three immediately preceding years.

At first glance, this reform seems like a great idea, given the bad reputation that political dynasties have for each political party. However, if the implications of the reform are carefully analyzed, it is clear that it is unlikely to have a great impact.

One example from our own political history will suffice. Ricardo Elías Calles, the famous son of former President Plutarco Elías Calles, was governor of Sonora in 1931 and later held a prominent place in Lázaro Cárdenas's cabinet in 1934. Had there not been a rift between the two revolutionary leaders, Ricardo Jr. could have sought the presidency without any problem. Under the approved reform, he would not have faced any restrictions either.

Similarly, if a highly popular president had three children, this reform would not prevent each of them from running for governor, senator or deputy in the same year, so that the electorate would have the opportunity to preserve the legacy of their honorable father. Under the definition approved by the Senate, this hypothetical example would not be electoral nepotism. Similarly, nothing would prevent a governor from promoting the political career of his partner or children in the capital or Congress of their respective states.

As can be seen, the harmlessness of the reform is independent of whether it comes into force in 2027 or 2030, although postponing it for three years seems to please the wishes of the governors in charge of San Luis Potosí, Guerrero and Zacatecas.

Beyond the immediate and mediate effects of the reform, it is also worth considering the argument of political rights. While it is true that nepotism in public administration is a broad and widespread problem in Mexico and other countries despite already having important restrictions, elected positions do not usually have the same restrictions in democratic countries. According to the current Constitution, any Mexican citizen has the right to vote and be voted for in any elected position. Therefore, the reform approved in the Senate restricts the political rights of relatives of current and future rulers, but only for three years.

Other countries, such as Colombia, have passed anti-nepotism reforms in the public sector. The results of a systematic analysis—conducted by Juan Felipe Riaño, an economist and professor at Georgetown University—of what happened afterwards were not very encouraging. Although the number of relatives in each public agency decreased after the reform was passed, many of them simply migrated to other agencies a little further away from their powerful relatives.

The fundamental problem of democracies is to achieve genuine accountability and maximize transparency. However, just a couple of months ago, Congress decided to extinguish the autonomous body responsible for guaranteeing the right to public information and we are just a few months away from further weakening the judiciary.