Chicanismo needs to be rescued from itself.
You’ve likely heard about Chicanx culture in the United States, ranging from political issues to economic power, cultural identification and beyond. Chicanismo is everywhere, exhibited in the millions of Americans of Mexican heritage that consciously choose this demonym. Chicanx movements are responsible for improving civil rights for Latinxs in the U.S. They manifest in colorful murals across Los Angeles and Denver, in intense literature discussing identity and space, and in assertions of Indigenous pride and Latinx futurism. Indeed, it’s pervasive.
“True” Chicanismo is difficult to define. Throughout Mexican American history, the language behind it has shifted with the establishment of a Mexico-United States binary. Different texts will highlight different characteristics of community; different scholars will debate philosophy and experience differently. Yet, plainly, Chicanismo is understood to be a movement in defiance of the white labeling and colonial essentialism of Mexican Americans, in favor of constructing an identity in line with perceived Indigeneity. Terms like “Latinx” and “Hispanic” fall flat due to their colonizing origins, and nationalities like “Mexican” falter because Chicanxs distinctly identify those residing in the United States.
But there’s a big problem in Chicanismo that needs to be addressed more publicly and much more frequently: the notion of Chicanx Indigeneity and its reproduction of colonialism.
A tenet of Chicanismo ubiquitously defines the movement as a re-association to Indigenous roots, calling back to the Spanish Conquest of Mexico, which saw the violent end of the rule of Native peoples in Mesoamerica. Chicanxs assert Native identity through perspectives of territory, part of the-border-crossed-us narrative. The territory in question references the annexation of land by the United States from Mexico, which brings into existence a diasporic population, Chicanxs. The very etymology of “Chicanx” is accepted as a derivative of the Nahuatl “Mexica,” and the movement dubs this lost territory as Aztlán, the mythic Mexica place of origin — it’s a very strong association.
Some academics choose to sign their papers with Aztlán, an act of perceived decolonization through acknowledgement of Indigenous land. Chicanx performance groups oftentimes produce Aztec dances, complete with headdresses and incense. On campuses, young Chicanx activists hold rallies supporting their pre-documented peers. It’s all productive and admirable.
Except for that Indigenous association.
For one, Aztlán doesn’t exist like that. Chicanx philosophies are intertwined with a rejection of colonizing identities, yet Chicanxs still apply a Eurocentric approach to Aztlán. It maintains a nativist (and not Native) discourse that the land the U.S. annexed is all Chicanx. This mindset actively undermines efforts for Native sovereignty by erasing all Natives in that territory. Chicanxs assume a colonizing position by claiming the land as Aztlán, and then translating those beliefs into activism that does not correspond to decolonization, but rather reproduce it.
Similarly, Chicanismo is fundamentally married to the idea of strong family ties to Mesoamerican cultures, in which the same colonizing forces appear. By recognizing the land as Aztlán, Chicanxs recognize a singular Mesoamerican nation, the Mexica, as a point of reference. Not only that, but Chicanismo elevates this to a romanticized interpretation of the Mexica through the civilization’s warrior spirit, the fall of Tenochtitlán, and a noble effort to assert heritage. Yet, this reduces all of Mexico to just one ethnocultural group, and marginalizing Mexico’s immense Native diversity. To assume to all Chicanxs have ties to warrior Aztecs is inaccurate.
And it comes down to the notion of Indigeneity in Chicanismo and if it’s even real at all.
The 1975 book Aztlán: Historia del Pueblo Chicano, compiled by David Maciel and Patricia Bueno, lists characteristics of Chicanxs that include an awareness that subsequent migration to “Aztlán” is a defining aspect. But how can that be? If Chicanxs are Indigenous peoples to Aztlán, in what space can that Indigenous identity be applied to migrants and their descendants? Chicanx identity can be accepted as a movement constructed by geopolitical borders, but it cannot be understood as an Indigenous assertion.
Why? Because Chicanxs are not Native. Only Natives have complete authority and autonomy on setting the parameters of their nations’ identities, and given current political sentiment, it’s clear that ethnic heritage is not one of them. Anything against that understanding sets the claimant on a problematic path à la Elizabeth Warren. Having Native ancestry does not make a person Native. Furthermore, the Chicanx attempts to self-indigenize causes more harm to Native communities than express solidarity because there is no awareness or prioritization of Native sovereignty.
Instead, much of Chicanismo can be understood through the framework of Mexican nationalism, where Chicanxs identity corresponds to a Mexican colonial one and to mestizaje, another settler term that attempted to whiten Latin America by removing Indigenous and Black identity. Chicanismo utilizes mestizaje as a form of establishing Native racial affiliation, yet all without understanding Native identity. Mexican nationalism, likewise, continues to favor ethnic groups that are not observably Native or Black. Therefore, Chicanismo needs to be understood in the same way, because of its problematic view of Aztlán, its lack of cultural Native literacy, and its juxtaposition against Mexico, in which both continue to serve as oppressive institutions.
Then what’s left?
It’s not some hopeless downfall by any means, but rather an awakening to what reality suggests — that Chicanxs should be understood under the guise of a Mexican diaspora in the United States. Chicanxs need to reorient themselves as non-Native in support of Natives and to end colonization of their spaces. Youth Chicanx groups, such as MEChA, need to purge their doctrine and constitutions of mentions of Aztlán, and academics must use accurate associations if they wish to recognize Indigenous land.
This isn’t necessarily a separation of Indigeneity from Chicanismo, but rather an awareness that Indigeneity is significantly more complex than how Chicanismo has been presenting it. Only then, will we understand the positionality of Chicanxs in relation to other ethnic groups and how to equitably help Chicanx communities.
To decolonize the American continent means to decolonize ourselves. Oftentimes, that includes the painful realization that our own communities are sources of oppression and colonization towards others.
But nobody says liberation is guilt-free.
