Travel and Transport in Mexico
Travel and Transport in Mexico
In his 1950 study, Mexico: The Struggle for Peace and Bread, historian Frank
Tannenbaum remarked that “physical geography could not have been better designed to
isolate Mexico from the world and Mexicans from one another.” He recognized, like
others before him, that the difficulty of travel by foot, water, or wheel across the
country’s troublesome landscape was an unavoidable element of its history. Its distinctive
topography of endless mountains but few navigable rivers had functioned, in some sense,
as a historical actor in the larger story of Mexico. In the mid-19th century, Lucas Alamán
had recognized as much when he lamented that nature had denied the country “all means
of interior communication,” while three centuries before that, conquistador Hernán
Cortés reportedly apprised Emperor Charles V of the geography of his new dominion by
presenting him with a crumpled piece of paper. Over the last half-millennium, however,
technological innovation, use, and adaptation radically altered how humans moved in and
through the Mexican landscape. New modes of movement—from railway travel to human
flight—were incorporated into a mosaic of older practices of mobility. Along the way,
these material transformations were entangled with changing economic, political, and
cultural ideas that left their own imprint on the history of travel and transportation.
Keywords: automobile, aviation, highway, infrastructure, mobility, port, railroad, tourism, transportation
Page 1 of 20
necessary to pull them. Yet humans themselves—it would seem—could certainly have
done the job. Richard W. Bulliet, a skeptic of Diamond’s hypothesis, suggests that pre-
Columbian people may well have actively chosen not to use wheels. Others, to be sure,
had done so at various points in history, inspired by the fact that wheels present many
disadvantages over legs. The former require good roads, and even when those are
present, they can be rendered useless by broken parts, fallen trees and rocks, loose soil,
or bad weather conditions. In the face of such limitations, pre-conquest Mesoamericans
may have simply determined that human bodies were the preferable all-terrain
transportation technology.2
Whatever the explanation may be, it is clear that prior to the arrival of the Spanish,
Mesoamerican societies relied almost entirely on human muscle as the motive power for
transportation. Human carriers, or tamemes, hauled a vast assortment of goods over
short and long distances. To do so, they utilized containers woven from cane, which they
affixed to their backs and strapped to their foreheads by tumplines. In central Mexico, the
tamemes who supplied the Aztec empire’s island-capital of Tenochtitlán, worked in
conjunction with thousands of professional canoers. Together, they performed the
indispensable task of maintaining a transport link between the island and the lakeshore.
At nearly all hours of the day, canoers could be seen propelling dugouts of various sizes
by paddle and pole. As Ross Hassig observes, the lake system they used, “served as a
large and efficient conduit of goods,” giving the city the ability to draw from an extensive
hinterland.3
In 1521, two years after they arrived, the Spanish razed Tenochtitlán and rebuilt it as
Mexico City. The transition to Spanish colonial rule had a significant impact on transport
practices in the Valley of Mexico. Soon after the conquest, deforestation and overgrazing
accelerated the erosion of the land, the silting of lakes, and the desiccation of the
lacustrine ecosystem. Periodic and uncontrollable flooding began to affect the city, and in
the early 16th century, engineers and draft laborers began construction on the desagüe
de Huehuetoca, a massive drainage system that was not completed until the 20th century.
In the meantime, the city’s old earthen causeways that had once connected the island to
the shore continued to function as important thoroughfares. Shallow waters were
channeled into canals and new roads spread over the dry lakebed. Roads and canals then
supplied the city, although the latter soon became identified as “sources of
infection” (“focos de infección”) by early public health reformers. In 1753, for example,
authorities covered up the Acequia Real, a canal that had once reached as far as the
Zócalo.
As colonial authorities continued what amounted to a war against water, new modes of
animal-powered transportation took hold. The first horses had arrived in New Spain as
military tools, but as their numbers grew, they became simple modes of locomotion as
well as markers of status. Due to early prohibitions against their ownership by indigenous
people, as well as their high cost, horses developed an association with the Spanish, and
thus city life; in rural areas, where indigenous populations predominated, they were
seldom seen during the first half of the 16th century.4 Even as the number of horses and
Page 2 of 20
other beasts of burden grew, the early colonial transportation system continued to rely
principally on the muscle-power of indigenous carriers. Indeed, the continued use (and
abuse) of tamemes resulted in frequent interventions by royal authorities, who issued
periodic edicts aimed at limiting, regulating, or banning indigenous people’s employment
by Spanish colonists as human porters.
At the close of the 1540s, epidemic disease and the discovery of silver in Zacatecas
altered the character of mobility in New Spain. Human carriers, no longer able to meet
the demand for transport services, began to be replaced by livestock. In previous
decades, the number of working animals available for hire had increased significantly,
and around Mexico City they could be found pulling carriages, wagons, and carts. Beyond
the capital, where the terrain was often less forgiving, heavy carts built of timbers,
equipped with massive wheels and pulled by mules, were used to navigate rock-strewn
roads, although even they were of little use for most trans-mountain travel.
As Spanish authorities extended their power, they superimposed a new system of royal
roads onto the preexisting indigenous road infrastructure. Over the course of the colonial
period a rudimentary trunk highway network, varying significantly in quality, began to
radiate outward from Mexico City. The network’s four main arteries were the Camino
Real de Tierra Adentro (Mexico City to Santa Fe, New Mexico, via Zacatecas), the Camino
Real de Chiapas (Mexico City to Guatemala), the Camino Real de Veracruz (the “Road to
Europe”), and the Camino Real de Acapulco (the “Road to Asia”). The ports of Veracruz
and Acapulco, in turn, connected New Spain to networks of transatlantic and trans-Pacific
trade. Smaller roads, meanwhile, connected the capital with important population centers
Pachuca, Toluca, Morelia, and Cuautla, among others. By the end of the colonial period,
the system extended 16,979 miles, although more than two thirds of it could not
accommodate wheeled vehicles.5
Page 3 of 20
The nature of travel began to change during the final decades of the 19th century due to
the construction of the first railroads and the centralization of power under the
presidency of Porfirio Díaz (1876–1880, 1884–1911). After a half-century of planning, the
nation’s first major railway line was inaugurated in 1873, connecting Mexico City and the
port of Veracruz. By offering generous concessions and subsidies to private firms, the
Porfirian government was able to build some 11, 800 miles of rail by 1910. In the
meantime, the use of trains began to alter economic activities, social relations, and even
governance. In addition to extending the administrative reach of the state, the railways
reshaped the nature of production. As foreign capital flowed into the economy and rail
lines connected them to the outside world, many agricultural and mining operations
became globally competitive. Meanwhile, long-isolated regions were integrated into the
national market (and the global economy) for the first time. The railways were, however,
surprisingly dependent on imports, including construction materials, fuel, and technical
know-how, given that most railway cars, land surveyors, and engineers arrived from
abroad.10
Even as the railroad introduced a radically new and efficient mode of transport, the vast
majority of people, scattered around the country in isolated rural hamlets, had virtually
no direct access to the network. Writing on the eve of the Mexican Revolution, Andrés
Page 4 of 20
Molina Enríquez concluded that poor transportation options had meant that many rural
people had no other option than to put up with “great hikes on foot” and had
consequently developed “a special muscle” that allowed them to act as “beasts of burden”
during long journeys.11 Even merchants would continue to rely on horses and mules to
gain access to isolated consumers well into the 20th century, while mine operators often
had to move modern machinery upon the backs of working animals.
In those cities and towns touched by the railroad, however, a revolution in mobility took
place. Nowhere was this transformation more profound than in the nation’s capital. The
city’s first railway line, built in 1857, connected Mexico City to Villa de Guadalupe,
bringing with it new sounds, smells, and dangers. With the construction of long-distance
lines, foreign manufactured goods flooded into the city alongside new machines and
production processes. And while the country did not receive a large flow of immigrants
during these years, small but influential foreign colonies quickly settled into the capital,
while tourists and investors began to arrive by rail via the northern border and the
country’s renovated ports.
The last two decades of Porfirian rule also witnessed the introduction of a host of other
mobility machines, from hot air balloons and bicycles, to the first automobiles and
airplanes. Importers, mechanics, garages, and clubs popped up in the capital and other
cities. The wealthy, benefiting from the pacification of the countryside, organized rural
excursions and cross-country bicycle and motorcar races. Business interests, engineers,
and reformers promoted the paving of Mexico City’s streets with asphalt, while others
encouraged the reconstruction of the country’s long-ignored colonial-era road network.
Yet in an age so often associated with the ideals of “Order and Progress,” transportation
was never uniformly progressive. Instead, innovations and improvements were added to a
tapestry of practices of mobility. Most residents, for example, continued to walk. Human
porters still hauled cargo around the capital, and the city’s surviving canal system moved
food and other commodities from the outskirts to the central markets. As new and old
ways of moving competed with each other for space, the city became increasingly
complex and often dangerous. Indeed, turn-of-the-century Mexico City witnessed the
Page 5 of 20
nation’s first bicycle- and automobile-related deaths, as well as a host of equally deadly
streetcar and train accidents.13
Page 6 of 20
During the 1910s, the automobile age began to make its presence felt in the country. To
the north, the US automotive industry had begun to achieve impressive gains in
productivity. By 1912, the Ford Motor Company had introduced new production processes
that resulted in a dramatic increase in output and a decline in prices. Three years later,
the company’s quixotic leader suggested he might establish a factory in Mexico and thus
bring an end to the revolution. Before he could do so, US Army General John Pershing
was in Chihuahua pursuing Pancho Villa, aided by hundreds of trucks in what became the
United States’ first experiment with motorized warfare. As automotive industry output
and ownership rates increased in the United States, many new, used, and even stolen
vehicles flowed southward. Revolutionary generals quickly acquired cars and hired
chauffeurs. Pancho Villa got ahold of an Indian motorcycle and an automobile—nicknamed
la Cucaracha—which, lore has it, ran on marijuana. Even a handful of criminals, like the
notorious Gray Automobile Gang, who terrorized residents of Mexico City in a gray car,
began to motorize their operations. Others turned to public transit. In 1916, when
tramway employees brought the city to a standstill during a general strike,
entrepreneurial automobile owners set about rebuilding their cars into makeshift jitneys
and moving people around for a small fee. That same year three brothers—Emilio,
Gastón, and Raúl Azcárraga Vidaurreta—started importing Fords, and by the end of the
decade they had become the company’s biggest dealers in the country.
Page 7 of 20
As the postrevolutionary road network expanded, newly formed bus and trucking
companies seized the opportunity to offer cargo and passenger services. Companies like
Autobuses de Oriente (ADO) and Transportes Nacionales del Centro Estrella Blanca
spread out like tentacles, often well beyond the mapped road network. Indeed, as Frank
Tannenbaum remarked in the mid-1920s, “anyone who knows Mexico knows that buses in
Mexico travel almost where no roads exist. No driver from the United States would
venture his bus on roads, at least during the rainy season, that are utilized in Mexico.”15
By the end of the 1920s, bus travel was so ingrained in everyday life that when the song
“Camioncito Flecha Roja” hit the airwaves in 1930, it became an instant hit. Many
Mexicans no doubt identified with the sentiments expressed by the song’s Guerreran
composer Rafúl Krayem Sánchez when they heard radios and musical groups belting out
lines like “Little Flecha Roja bus/ don’t take my darling away” (“Camioncito Flecha Roja/
no te lleves a mi amor”) and “Don’t forget, my dear/ that you’re leaving me in the
station” (“no se te olvide amorcito/ que me dejas en la estación”).
The owner-operators of trucks and buses had already begun to organize in the late 1910s,
and by the end of the 1920s they had become a potent political force. The most influential
of these early organizations was the Alianza de Camioneros (Alliance of Busmen), which,
under the leadership of Antonio Díaz Lombardo, went on to monopolize Mexico City’s bus
system in the 1930s and 1940s. In 1930, transport firms created the multimodal
Confederación Nacional de Transportes de la República Mexicana, followed six years
later by the Cámara Nacional de Transportes y Comunicaciones (CNTC). The CNTC and
others demonstrated their collective political muscle when they opposed federal efforts to
regulate the sector through application of a new Ley de Vías Generales de Comunicación
(Law of General Means of Communications). The CNTC and its members fought the law
by means of “amparos” (writs of protection), until the administration of President Ávila
Camacho repealed the legislation’s provision requiring private firms to organize into
cooperatives.
Page 8 of 20
years, cargo transportation collapsed and passenger traffic virtually disappeared. By this
point trucks and buses had captured the vast majority of cargo and passenger traffic over
short distances (up to about 150 miles). Although the impact of World War II channeled
new resources into the railway system, and between 1939 and 1944 cargo transported by
rail expanded at an average annual rate of 2.3 percent per year (measured in net tons-
kilometers of cargo), cargo moved by truck grew at the much faster rate of 12.6 percent.
At the same time, growth in passenger traffic (measured in passenger-kilometers)
revealed similar tendencies, with railway travel growing by 3 percent per year as
compared to 13.7 percent in the bus industry.
By the end of the 1920s, the Mexican state was actively involved in fostering commercial
aviation. Shortly after a visit by Charles Lindbergh in July of 1928, the federal
government established the Department of Civil Aeronautics (Departamento de
Aeronáutica Civil). A year later it began construction on a million square meter Puerto
Aéreo Central. During 1930 Pan American Airways purchased a majority position in
Mexicana, and by the end of World War II Mexico had developed one of the most
extensive aviation systems in Latin America. In 1944, twenty-six authorized airlines,
covering 33,646 miles, were operating in the country. The largest carriers included the
Compañía Mexicana de Aviación, S.A.; Pan American Airways Inc.; Líneas Aéreas
Mexicanas, S.A.; Braniff Airways; Aerovías Braniff, S.A.; and Aeronáves de México, S.A,
the last of which had been founded by bus industry powerbroker Díaz Lombardo in 1934
to provide service between the capital and the booming resort town of Acapulco.
Page 9 of 20
Postwar to Privatization
The postwar era produced a host of structural changes in Mexico’s economy as
policymakers looked to achieve modernization through large-scale industrialization. In
1947, as his administration pursued an ambitious inter-urban and rural road building
agenda, President Miguel Alemán imposed new tariffs on imported vehicles, aiming to
encourage greater domestic automobile production. At the same time, the national oil
company, PEMEX, took a more active role in subsidizing the price of gasoline. By mid-
century, Mexico had linked the nation’s capital to all major cities, ports, and border entry
points by highway when it inaugurated the Pan-American Highway from Ciudad Juárez to
the Guatemalan border. With traffic growing, engineers and planners looked for new
ways to increase the capacity of the most heavily traveled routes while pushing new
roads into isolated areas. The development bank, Nacional Financiera, took an early lead
by funding a short-lived public-private partnership in 1949 known as the Compañía
Constructora del Sur. The company—which was eventually replaced by the public agency
Caminos y Puentes Federales de Ingresos y Servicios Conexos (Federal Toll Roads and
Bridges and Related Services, CAPUFE)—specialized in construction and administration
of toll roads along heavily utilized corridors. By 1952 it had inaugurated highways
between Mexico-Cuernavaca and Amacuzac-Iguala.17
During the following decade, the federal government doubled down on the automobile as
a seemingly effective tool to both industrialize and mobilize the nation. By 1960,
seventeen different firms were building forty-one distinct vehicle models.18 In order to
hasten growth in the industry and limit capital outflows, the administration of Adolfo
López Mateos (1958–1964) issued a series of decrees that further limited vehicle and
parts imports. Thereafter the introduction of complete motors from abroad was
prohibited and manufacturers were required to use products of Mexican origin in 60
percent of their vehicles.19 These policies tended to reinforce the capital’s position as the
nation’s principal motor city, even as new manufacturing facilities sprang up beyond the
capital (for example, Volkswagen in Puebla and Nissan in Morelos). By 1970, a year after
inauguration of a state-of-the-art subway system, one half of all cars in the country were
being operated in the capital.20
In order to make way for this multitude of motor vehicles, planners and civil engineers
engaged in a radical reconstruction of the capital. During the 1950s and 1960s they
rebuilt and widened the Tlalpan causeway, carved out new urban highways like the
Miguel Alemán Viaduct, extended the Paseo de la Reforma, constructed a circular
freeway around the city, and paved over some of the last urban waterways like the Piedad
and Churubusco Rivers.21 Finally, in the 1970s, powerful Mexico City regent Carlos Hank
González moved forward with the dramatic construction of a gridded system of axial
thoroughfares (“ejes viales”) bisecting neighborhoods and cutting across the city. Yet
even after all of these interventions, the vast majority of residents continued to use a
Page 10 of 20
diversity of public transportation options from taxis, peseros, combis, micros, and electric
trolleys to the newly built Metro.22
As motor vehicles expanded in Mexico City and around the nation, the protracted decline
of the railroad continued. By 1970 lines extended nearly 15,225 miles, divided among
Ferronales (72.3 percent), Ferrocarriles del Pacífico (11.5 percent), Ferrocarriles
Chihuahua al Pacífico (7.2 percent), Ferrocarriles Unidos del Sureste (6.1 percent), and
Ferrocarril Sonora-Baja California (2.9 percent). Yet over the course of the decade, the
sector’s share of federal investment dropped from 5.8 percent to below 3 percent.
Meanwhile, between 1970 and 1985, cargo traffic fell from 23 percent to 18 percent and
passenger traffic fell from 8 percent to 1.4 percent.23
During the late 1970s and 1980s, the country faced a series of dramatic economic
challenges that ultimately produced a radical transformation in the transportation sector.
Five years after the desablizing Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries
(OPEC) oil shock of 1973, and two years after a devaluation of the peso, PEMEX had
discovered massive oil reserves. The promise of a resource windfall resulted in increased
public spending and mounting foreign indebtedness. By the summer of 1982, as
international interest rates rose, Mexico found itself unable to meet its debt obligations.
Thereafter, economic conditions rapidly deteriorated. By the late 1980s, a new generation
of technocrats had concluded that in order to unleash economic growth again, entire
areas of the economy would need to be restructured, including transport.24
When President Carlos Salinas (1988–1994) came to power, he turned his attention to the
railway system, which had been almost entirely nationalized by 1987. He enacted a series
of commercial reforms that would facilitate the system’s eventual privatization. Around
the same time, the federal government authorized private capital to participate in the
construction of toll roads through use of bank trusts (fideicomisos) established by the
Banco Nacional de Obras y Servicios Públicos (Banobras). Thousands of miles of privately
financed superhighways were built during these years; they earned the unfortunate
distinction of being some of the most expensive toll roads in the world. For many years,
consumers simply avoided them, opting to use a free, parallel system of old, crater-filled,
and poorly policed roads. In the aeronautical sector, while the state had previously
intervened in a number of instances to save airlines, during the late 1980s both
Aeroméxico (1988) and Mexicana (1989) were privatized.
Page 11 of 20
began to relinquish its control of the ports as well. Under Zedillo, twenty-six seaports and
ten petroleum and minerals terminals were privatized. Meanwhile, in 1998, the
Secretariat of Communications and Transport privatized the nation’s airports, which had
been operated by the centralized public agency Aeropuertos y Servicios Auxiliares
(Airports and Auxiliary Services, ASA) since 1965. The government did, however,
maintain control of airspace, radio navigation, telecommunications, and aeronautical
information.26 During the early 2000s, new low-cost airlines such as Volaris and Interjet
appeared in the country.
Privatization had a wide-ranging impact on travel and transport in Mexico. On the one
hand, it marked the end of railway passenger transport, although interest in commuter
rail lines has witnessed a resurgence in recent years. On the other, privatization
encouraged reinvestment in old and dilapidated infrastructure. At the turn of the 21st
century, railway cargo transport experienced a significant recovery, while a dramatic
transformation took place in the shipping industry. By 2000, more than 80 percent of
Mexican exports were being moved by ship through 107 ports and maritime terminals,
marking a radical shift in international commerce since the late 19th and 20th centuries.
Meanwhile, as aviation services expanded and as prices declined, air travel became more
accessible to Mexican consumers; in 2016 flights were being operated out of 1,424
aerodromes and 76 public service airports.27 As access to credit has expanded, middle-
class Mexicans have begun to acquire passenger automobiles in large numbers. Yet as the
country achieves mass automobile ownership, it is being forced to confront nagging
problems of traffic congestion, contamination, and, most recently, climate change.
Page 12 of 20
In recent years, historians have begun to move beyond the railroad and examine other
forms of mobility. Scholars have long recognized the importance of road building and
motorization during the 20th century, but until the last few years, few studies were
extensively researched. During the last few years, new work by Michael K. Bess on road
building and Héctor Mendoza Vargas on automobiles and national integration has begun
to incorporate the global automobile age into the story of 20th-century Mexico.30 What is
lacking still, however, is a deeper examination of how private-sector actors “drove”
motorization, although important work has been done recently by Michael Lettieri in his
examination of the politically powerful bus industry.31
After many years of overlooking maritime travel, historians have finally begun to revisit
its role. While Mexico has nearly 7,000 miles of coastline, this “other” borderlands, which
straddles the land and the sea, has received scant attention. On some level, this is a
reflection of the limited significance of the sector following the colonial period.32 As late
as the 1930s, for example, the country had no merchant marine at all. And while the state
did acquire tankers after the expropriation of the oil companies in 1938, it took until the
1950s for private operators of any significance to emerge. Enrique Cárdenas de la Peña’s
Historia marítima de México provided an early examination of maritime transport, and
historiographical interest has only increased in recent years. Promising works include the
Catálogo de fuentes históricas para el estudio de los puertos en el Golfo de México, siglo
XIX, edited by Mario Trujillo, Clara Rivera, and Carlos Ruiz,33 and Johanna Von
Grafenstein’s two-volume study of ports in the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean from the
17th century to the 1930s.34 The Mexican Pacific remains under-examined, however,
Karina Busto’s recent doctoral dissertation on Pacific coast ports and commercial
networks between 1848 and 1927, has shed new light on the issue.35
Page 13 of 20
Since it emerged as an experimental technology in the early 20th century, aviation has
enjoyed considerable attention by both the Mexican government and the private sector.
While a few studies have explored the history of human flight in the country, including
Dan Hagedorn’s Conquistadors of the Sky: A History of Aviation in Latin America, much
work remains to be done.36 This is partly due to a lack of sources, although a few
historians, like Peter Soland have ventured further into the field.36 Much as is the case
with the study of the automobile, little work has been done on the role of private-sector
actors. While business historians have been making important contributions to the
historiography of Mexico, they have largely overlooked this industry.
The history of urban mobility deserves special treatment, particularly in Mexico City. As
Bernardo Navarro observes, the capital’s history has largely been the history of transport
and services.37 The city has long functioned as a hybrid space where old and new coexist;
fluvial transport routes, for example, persisted until the 20th century, with paddleboats,
canoes, and other vessels sharing space with mules, railways, bicycles, and motorized
vehicles.38 At the same time, major social and political battles in the city have often
revolved around questions of transport and mobility.
Primary Sources
Many, if not all, historical archives in Mexico have something to contribute to the history
of travel and transport, whether it is the massive Archivo General de la Nación (AGN) or
one of the small municipal archives scattered around the country. Because travel,
transport, and mobility more generally are such everyday activities, they are captured by
many documents held in these repositories. At the AGN, for example, one can find
everything from elaborate infrastructural studies commissioned by the federal
government to letters sent to presidents from isolated communities requesting, for
example, that the state send them an engineer to help build a rural road. One archive that
has been under-utilized, but provides extensive information on the role of the state as a
regulator of mobility is the Archivo Histórico de la Secretaría de Comunicaciones y
Transportes. For the history of urban transport, the Archivo Histórico de la Ciudad de
México is a rich source that includes, among other things, a catalogue of the first driver’s
licenses issued in the city at the turn of the 20th century. For the history of tourist travel,
especially in Cancun, the Archivo Histórico de la Universidad del Caribe, in Cancún,
Quintana Roo, is indispensable. An interesting source of information on 20th-century
infrastructural projects is Acervo Histórico de la Fundación ICA. The archive holds,
among other things, around one million aerial photographs taken by Compañía Mexicana
Aerofoto between 1930 and 1994.
The railways preserve the most extensive documentation of any mode of transportation.
The many companies and agencies of the 19th and 20th centuries left behind enormous
amounts of material that historians are still trying to parse through. In addition to the
AGN, one of the key repositories of railway documentation is the Archivo Histórico del
Page 14 of 20
As much as traditional archives offer important insight into the history of travel and
transport, some of the best primary source materials are available elsewhere. Daily
newspapers, for example, provide seemingly mundane but important information on
practices of mobility, including how much one paid to travel and how quickly one could do
so. Industry journals and magazines, meanwhile, provide a view of the unique concerns of
various sectors and private actors. Examples include the busing magazines produced by
Alianza de Camioneros and the official publications of automotive manufacturers, like
Ford News, among countless others.
Further Reading
Álvarez Palma, Ilse Angélica, ed. Automotores y transporte público: Un acercamiento
desde los estudios históricos. Zinacantepec: El Colegio Mexiquense, 2017.
Beatty, Edward. Technology and the Search for Progress in Modern Mexico. Oakland:
University of California Press, 2015.
Bess, Michael K. Routes of Compromise: Building Roads and Shaping the Nation in
Mexico, 1917–1952. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2017.
Freeman, J. Brian. “Mexico City and the Conquest of the Car.” In Mexibility: We Are in the
City, We Cannot Leave. Edited by Friedrich von Borries and Moritz Ahlert, 100–107.
Mexico: RM Editorial, 2017.
Islas Rivera, Victor. Estructura y desarrollo del sector transporte en México. Mexico City:
El Colegio de Mexico, 1990.
Jáuregui, Luis. Los transportes, siglos XVI al XX. Mexico: UNAM, Editorial Océano, 2004.
Page 15 of 20
Kuntz Ficker, Sandra, and Paolo Riguzzi, eds. Ferrocarriles y vida económica en México
1850–1950: Del surgimiento tardío al decaimiento precoz. Zinacantepec: El Colegio
Mexiquense: UAM Xochimilco: Ferrocarriles Nacionales de México, 1996.
Suarez Argüello, Clara Elena. Camino real y carrera larga: La arriería en la Nueva
España durante el siglo XVIII. Mexico City: Centro de Investigaciones y Estudios
Superiores en Antropología Social, 1997.
Van Hoy, Teresa. A Social History of Mexico’s Railroads: Peons, Prisoners, and Priests.
New York: Rowman & Littlefield, 2008.
Notes:
(1.) The research and writing of this article was supported by UNAM-DGAPA-PAPIIT grant
IN400116, “Las infraestructuras públicas de México desde la expansión económica a la
reforma estructural, 1940–1990. Un enfoque histórico interdisciplinario.”
(2.) Jared Diamond, Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies (New York:
Norton, 1997), 248; and Richard W. Bulliet, The Wheel: Inventions and Reinventions (New
York: Columbia University Press, 2016), 39, 42, 109.
(3.) Ross Hassig, Trade, Tribute, and Transportation: The Sixteenth-Century Political
Economy of the Valley of Mexico (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1985), 61.
(4.) Bernardo García Martínez, “Los primeros pasos del ganado en México,” Relaciones:
Estudios de Historia y Sociedad 15, no. 59 (Verano 1994): 16.
(5.) Sergio Ortiz Hernán, Los ferrocarriles de México: Una visión social y económica
(Mexico City: Ferrocarriles Nacionales de México, 1987), 48.
(6.) Edward Beatty, Technology and the Search for Progress in Modern Mexico (Oakland:
University of California Press, 2015), 40.
Page 16 of 20
Railroads in a Backward Economy: The Case of Mexico,” Journal of Economic History 39,
no. 4 (December 1979): 943–944. See also, Fred Wilbur Powell, The Railroads of Mexico
(Boston: Stratford, 1921), 91–98.
(8.) Juan Félipe Leal and José Woldenberg, Del estado liberal a los inicios de la dictadura
porfirista (Mexico City: Siglo XXI Editores, 1983), 59.
(9.) Frederick A. Ober, Travels in Mexico and Life among the Mexicans (Boston: Estes and
Lauriat, 1884), 205.
(10.) The scholarship on Mexican railways is vast. See for example, John H. Coatsworth,
Growth against Development: The Economic Impact of Railroads in Porfirian Mexico
(DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1981); Daniel Lewis, Iron Horse Imperialism:
The Southern Pacific of Mexico, 1880–1951 (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2008);
and Teresa Miriam Van, A Social History of Mexico’s Railroads: Peons, Prisoners, and
Priests (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2008).
(11.) Andrés Molina Enríquez, Los grandes problemas nacionales (Mexico: Imprenta de A.
Carranza e Hijos, 1909), 257.
(12.) Quoted in Pablo Piccato, City of Suspects: Crime in Mexico City, 1900–1931
(Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2001), 25
(13.) Michael Matthews, The Civilizing Machine: A Cultural History of Mexican Railroads,
1876–1910 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2014); and William H. Beezley, Judas at
the Jockey Club and Other Episodes of Porfirian Mexico (Lincoln: University of Nebraska
Press, 1987).
(14.) Sandra Kuntz Ficker and Paolo Riguzzi, eds., Ferrocarriles y vida económica en
México (1850–1950) (Zinacantepec, México: El Colegio Mexiquense: Universidad
Autónoma Metropolitana Xochimilco and Ferrocarriles Nacionales de México, 1996).
(15.) Frank Tannenbaum, “Technology and Race in Mexico,” Political Science Quarterly
61, no. 3 (September 1946): 376.
(16.) Elsbeth E. Freudenthal, “How Aviation ‘Firsts’ Took Place in Mexico,” Americas 4,
no. 1 (July 1947): 100–107. Lawrence Douglas Taylor Hansen, “Los orígenes de la Fuerza
Aérea Mexicana, 1913–1915,” Historia Mexicana 56, no. 1 (July–September 2006): 213–
214.
Page 17 of 20
(20.) Bravo, Apuntes, 180; see also Gustavo Garza and Fernando Aragón, “La
contaminación atmosférica de la ciudad de México en escala megalopolitana,” Estudios
Demográficos y Urbanos 10, no. 1 (January–April 1995): 50; Gustavo Garza, “Evolución de
las ciudades mexicanas en el siglo XX,” Notas. Revista de información y análisis 19
(2002): 11; and Tokue Shibata, “Los problemas de la contaminación ambiental en la
ciudad de México,” Estudios de Asia y África 19, no. 4 (October–December 1984): 567.
(21.) Salvador Novo, New Mexican Grandeur, trans. Noel Lindsay (Mexico City:
PetróleosMexicanos, 1967); Javier Delgado, “De los anillos a la segregación: La ciudad de
México, 1950–1987,” Estudios Demográficos y Urbanos 5, no. 2 (May–August 1990): 242;
and Gustavo Garza, Una década de planeación urbano–regional en México, 1978–1988
(México: El Colegio de México, 1989).
(22.) J. Brian Freeman, “Mexico City and the Conquest of the Car,” in Mexibility: We Are
in the City, We Cannot Leave, ed. Friedrich von Borries and Moritz Ahlert (Mexico City:
RM Editorial, 2017).
(24.) See Enrique Cárdenas Sánchez, El largo curso de la economía Mexicana: De 1780 a
nuestros días (México: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 2015).
(25.) Eric Moreno Quintero, “Privatización ferroviaria mexicana: Fechas, hechos y cifras
95–98,” Boletín NOTAS del Instituto Mexicano del Transporte, no. 45 (March–April 1999).
Page 18 of 20
(30.) Héctor Mendoza Vargas, “El automóvil y los mapas en la integración del territorio
mexicano, 1929–1962,” Investigaciones Geográficas 88 (December 2015): 91–108.
(31.) Michael Lettieri, “Los tentáculos del pulpo: La Alianza de Camioneros y la cultura
política del sistema priísta en la formación de la política de transporte, 1934–1958,” in
México a la luz de sus revoluciones, vol. 2, eds. Susan Deeds and Laura Rojas (Mexico: El
Colegio de México, 2014).
(32.) Enrique Cárdenas de la Peña, Historia marítima de México (Mexico: Olimpia, 1973).
(33.) Mario Trujillo, Clara Rivera, and Carlos Ruiz, eds., Catálogo de fuentes históricas
para el estudio de los puertos en el Golfo de México, siglo XIX [compact disc] (Mexico
City: Centro de Investigación y Estudios Superiores en Antropología Social, CONACYT,
2003); Mario Trujillo, El Golfo de México en la centuria decimonónica: Entornos
geográficos, formación portuaria y configuración marítima (Mexico City: Cámara de
Diputados LIX Legislatura, Centro de Investigaciones y Estudios Superiores en
Antropología Social, M.A. Porrúa, 2005); and Johanna Von Grafenstein, ed., El Golfo-
Caribe y sus puertos (Mexico City: Instituto Mora, 2006).
(34.) Karina Busto, “El espacio del Pacífico Mexicano: Puertos, rutas, navegación y redes
comerciales, 1848–1927” (doctoral thesis, El Colegio de México, 2008); and Jaime Olveda
and Juan Reyes, eds., Los puertos noroccidentales de México (Zapopan, Jalisco: Colegio
de Jalisco, Universidad de Colima, 1994).
(35.) Dan Hagedorn, Conquistadors of the Sky: A History of Aviation in Latin America
(Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2008).
Page 19 of 20
1997); and Armando Palerm et al., Los hombres del metro (Mexico: Sistema de Transporte
Colectivo-Metro, 1997).
J. Brian Freeman
Page 20 of 20