The Scream / Elena Poniatowska

In the early morning of September 16, 1810, the Cry of Independencewhich according to history was given by the priest Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla in the town of Dolores, Guanajuato, tore through the sky and caused the Independence movement to explode.

The independence ideals of the priest Hidalgo, whose white hair we recognize in the murals of Orozco, Siqueiros, Diego Rivera and all the textbooks, were heard from 1808 onwards and resonated in our beloved country. Before, Hidalgo had participated in conspiracies, secret meetings disguised as literary gatherings in the house of the Corregidor of Querétaro, Miguel Domínguez, presided by his notable wife, Doña Josefa Ortiz de Domínguez, who had the intelligence to gather the most patriotic characters, lawyers, merchants and even military men (today, when the military men at the end of the Andrés Manuel López Obrador administration are reappearing on the public scene).

In 1896, Porfirio Díaz, president of Mexico, ordered that the bell used by Hidalgo be moved to Mexico City to give it back its main role and make it ring again with the Independence, making September the month of the homeland with a parade and the placement of the bell on the main balcony of the National Palace. That was the starting point of the chimes, and years ago I had the privilege, I don’t know how or why, of hearing them ring in the sky of the heart of Mexico in a house on Uruguay Street, with my grandmother Elena, my parents, my two brothers and other children of the family that we would remember as a very important moment in our lives. By the way, our hero was The Pípila, who with his stone on his back opened the door to the Alhóndiga de Granaditas, a hero discovered in primary school, who I consider has never been given the attention he deserves and who I enthroned since my childhood among the great heroes, the most anonymous and the most moving.

Although September 16 is the official date of the Mexican Independence, since 1896 the celebrations have begun on the night of the 15th with a striking ceremony that is unique in my memory, which recalls the famous Grito de Independencia and, above all, admires Spiderman, a very poor and heroic young man who climbed up to the bell tower. Several times, my sister and I gathered in the Zócalo with friends and the cry of the president of Mexico made us remember the heroes who led the freedom of this Mexico that has always been our country, despite the fact that my mother married a Frenchman, a hero of the Great World War, a Poniatowski (whom the taxi drivers called Don Juanito), who chose to live and die in Mexico.

My friend, the photographer Áurea Hernández, who looks after her 90-year-old father like the pearl of her life, tells me: “I went to the Grito on September 15th. I tell you that together with some friends we went to the Zócalo to shout Viva México with our President. We thought we should be there with him, in his last cry as leader.

“It was a fun odyssey, because we left the car at a Metro station and went four stops, and from there we walked to the Zócalo.

“We arrived at 8pm and it was packed, as were the surrounding streets. We tried to get a little way down Pino Suárez and couldn’t; we went down 20 de noviembre and managed to get a little way, at least to where we could see one of the screens and hear better.

“All this under a downpour, but no one moved from their place (because it was difficult to find a small space to stand), so we were there for almost three hours, getting wet, packed in, but you could feel the joy and good energy of the people, while we sang to the sound of an excellent mariachi, and then to a Mexican band that seemed to delight most people who knew their songs. There were people of all classes and ages.

“As if by magic, the rain stopped shortly before the ceremony began. I am writing this and I still get chills from the screams of everyone when Andrés Manuel and Beatriz came out onto the balcony. And what can I say about the cheers that started. We stayed for a while to watch the fireworks.”

“Oh, Elenita, it was truly a real feast of emotions and hearing all the slogans that resounded: ‘AMLO, don’t go!’ ‘President!’ ‘It’s an honor to be with Obrador!’ Now I want to cry again. How incredible that a man has that power to summon and to show affection.

Afterwards we did the same odyssey, walking, walking, subway, car and in the end we ate a well-deserved pozole talking about what each one saw and felt, and sharing photos of the great event, in which once again we participated live with our beloved president.

I remember that a great friend and teacher of mine, Alberto Beltrán, was very excited by the Grito. Alongside Leopoldo Méndez, Pablo O’ Higgins, Mariana Yampolsky, Fanny Rabel and Andrea Gómez, the Taller de Grafica Popular covered the streets of the Center with engravings of our national heroes, who did much to ignite the patriotism of children and young people who watched them with the same emotion that the Night of the Grito provokes.