Simone de Beauvoir argued in her 1949 book “The Second Sex” that “humanity is male and man defines woman not in herself but as relative to him; she is not regarded as an autonomous being.”
Seventy-five years later, in 2024, Claudia Sheinbaum Pardo was elected by a huge margin to become the first woman and the first Jewish president of Mexico. In her inaugural speech, she famously proclaimed that “for the first time, we women have arrived to drive the destiny of our beautiful nation. And I say we got here, because I didn’t get here by myself — all women did!”
Still, the U.S. and international media are struggling to understand Sheinbaum “in herself” and as “an autonomous human being” beyond the shadows of the world’s most powerful men.
Sheinbaum says she wants to represent Mexican women on their own terms, and as drivers of a nation. Still, the U.S. and international media are struggling to understand Sheinbaum “in herself” and as “an autonomous human being” beyond the shadows of the world’s most powerful men.
In the U.S., Sheinbaum is generally “represented” in relation to President Donald Trump, who, to make matters more uncomfortable, is known for his rampant misogyny and history of perpetrating sexual abuse against women. How will she respond to his threatened 30 percent tariffs on Mexican goods? Will she allow him to send U.S. armed forces into Mexico to fight the Mexican drug cartels of which, according to Trump, she is “so scared she can’t think straight”? (The answer from Sheinbaum has been a resounding no.)
She also received ample U.S. news coverage when Trump called her “tough” and a “lovely woman” — prompting various media outlets to scrutinize what, exactly, she had done “to earn the President’s praise.” On the other hand, The Atlantic reported that Sheinbaum can actually “surrender to Trump” — and that her secret is, in fact, her ongoing “appeasement” of the man. And even though she was honored by an invitation to represent Mexico at the G7 Summit — a clear testament to her skilled diplomacy — Mexican right-wing commentators simply concluded that Trump stood her up when he left the G7 early (presumably to deliberate the U.S. entering Israel’s war against Iran).
Meanwhile, on both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border, Sheinbaum is sometimes depicted in terms of her relationship to former Mexican President Andrés Manuel López Obrador (“AMLO”). A popular slogan during her presidential campaign was Es Ella la de AMLO, or “She is AMLO’s [candidate].” Sheinbaum’s right-wing critics have called her AMLO’s “shadow” and “pawn”, and her measured, analytical mannerisms are contrasted unflatteringly to AMLO’s folksy charisma.
Additionally, as the first Jewish president of Mexico — an identity that, I have argued elsewhere, has gotten Sheinbaum targeted at the intersection of sexism and antisemitism — she is also defined in relation to powerful men. Since winning last year’s election, she has continued to face sexist and antisemitic attacks both in protests and online, with some activists and social media trolls claiming that Benjamin Netanyahu controls her political agenda. This, despite the fact that Sheinbaum formally recognized Nayda Rasheed as the Palestinian ambassador to Mexico — effectively recognizing Palestine as a state — and said that Mexico condemns “the aggression being endured by the Palestinian people.”
Of course, Sheinbaum’s connections to these men are defining features of her presidency; they most certainly do deserve serious analysis. Trump’s presidency challenges both Mexico’s sovereignty and the well-being of individual Mexicans on both sides of the border. Furthermore, Sheinbaum herself has committed to continuing the so-called “fourth transformation” of her predecessor, AMLO; she frequently calls her own presidency that transformation’s “second floor.” But if we only define Sheinbaum in relation to these male leaders, we forget that a Mexican woman is, indeed, driving the destiny of Mexico.
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So how can we have better conversations about Sheinbaum — especially in the United States, where analyses of women in politics generally devolve into unbridled misogyny?
One approach, favored by many Mexican pundits, is to train our focus on Sheinbaum’s rational, scientific approach to public policy, which stems from her extensive academic work as an applied physicist and energy engineer, as well as her tenure as Mexico City’s head of government. This has led some right-wing critics to call Sheinbaum boring, much like former German Chancellor Angela Merkel, another “boring” female-scientist-turned political-leader who was aptly described in a New Yorker profiled as “the quiet German…making every effort to appear uninteresting.” The drawback is that, unlike Merkel, whose “uninteresting” persona became one of her recognized superpowers, Sheinbaum’s own sober politics are contrasted detrimentally to AMLO’s feisty wit.
I propose that instead, we employ a version of the Bechdel Test asking whether two named, female characters in a movie ever discuss anything other than a man. Rather than constantly assessing Sheinbaum’s politics as reactions to moves made by men, why not examine how her own policies and ideas are being engaged by other Mexican women, Mexican Jews and Muslims, and participants in various Mexican social movements?
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We could explore, for instance, why Mexican feminists have had varied reactions to Sheinbaum’s election. While many are supportive, some worry that she is insufficiently committed to supporting feminist efforts to halt femicides. Some even claim her agenda actually lacks a distinctive feminist perspective. Similarly, we might explore what Sheinbaum’s presidency signifies for non-Christian communities in Mexico, the numbers of which are on the rise. Ilan Stavans, a leading scholar of Jewish culture and identity in Mexico and Latin America, wrote in the New York Times that Sheinbaum’s presidential candidacy as a Jewish woman has “redrawn the role of minority groups” in Mexico, arguing that it “will bring about a positive and definitive change.”
These are some of the big, interesting questions we should be exploring about Mexico’s president. They certainly make for a more intriguing narrative arc by helping us define Sheinbaum, in Beauvoir’s words, “in herself.” They also encourage critical analysis of why Mexico, unlike the U.S., was willing and able to elect a woman and a person of Jewish ancestry to its highest political office. Sheinbaum is, indeed, leading one of our most important partners on the international stage — and if we fail to tell that story, it’s our loss.