The reasons for this likely PRI landslide can be boiled down to three. When the PRI is united and essentially happy with its candidate, the aparato, or machinery, steamrolls everything in its path. Everyone, from the president of the republic down to the last precinct captain or schoolteacher, and including state governors, cabinet ministers and bishops, military commanders, labor and peasant leaders, businessmen and local officials, gets down to work and does his job–flood the country with propaganda, raise money by the truckload, bring out the vote, find the missing votes wherever they may be–legally or not, ethically or not. This is all done thanks to the symbiotic relationship between party, government and state, which has been at the heart of the Mexican political system since the late 1920s.

When the PRI finds itself with a candidate it does not like–the case of Carlos Salinas in 1988–or is divided, the machinery can slacken or even turn against the candidate. But if the opposition is weak, and the PRI avoids major pitfalls such as economic crises, outbreaks of violence or major scandals, the aparato will do what it takes to win. If in addition the opposition is deeply divided, as is now the case, any temptation the machinery would feel of bolting is quickly mitigated by the certainty of victory. Add to all that a third factor: the inertia behind 70 years of history, custom and habit, whereby Mexican elites (and, for that matter, those in Washington) prefer to deal with the Devil they know. Put all that together, and the incumbent party becomes virtually unbeatable.

Yet it is precisely in the apparent solidity of the PRI’s position that lies the remote possibility of the opposition’s chances of squeaking out a narrow win this summer, despite the huge odds against it. There are solid grounds for thinking that if the PAN and the left-of-center PRD can transform the July 2 election into a referendum on the perpetuation of the political system, then a small possibility exists that the opposition could win. The key is to turn the vote into a plebiscite on PRI rule, and force voters to cast their ballot not for one candidate or another, but rather for change or continuity, for the end of 70 years of PRI domination or for its indefinite continuity. In many cases, such as Chile in 1998, where such a referendum has taken place, under waning but still persistent authoritarian rule, the opposition has overcome often highly adverse circumstances. The premise for such a course lies in the belief (which certainly not all Mexicans subscribe to) that despite Mexico’s great advances of the past 10 years in its democratization process, the old system remains intact. In polls, a greater number of Mexicans say they want change than say they would vote for specific opposition candidates. If they could be persuaded to vote against the status quo, who knows what might happen?

Naturally, the chances of an opposition victory would be hugely enhanced if the election could be turned into a two-man contest. Conditions for such a prospect are starting to look more favorable; potential supporters of the opposition are beginning to see that the best way to maximize their vote is to shift toward Fox and away from C??rdenas. Many Cardenistas are beginning to train themselves to hold their breath, close their eyes, pinch their noses–and support the candidate of the PAN on Election Day; they realize that despite his many drawbacks, Fox is the only viable alternative to six more years of PRI rule. Were that to happen in significant numbers, it would be analogous to the situation that would have existed if an opposition alliance had been forged and a single candidate chosen to lead it.

Is any of this truly plausible? Not right now, and probably not this time around. Mexico is both a highly conservative nation and one that seeks change earnestly. It is a country that has made great strides in recent years in building democratic procedures for transferring and competing for power, as well as one where arguably the world’s oldest authoritarian regime is still standing. It is, finally, a society that despite being perennially sundered by lacerating social inequalities and economic crises, is rarely shaken by their political manifestations. Given these contradictions, movement is infrequent, costly and painful, and rarely foreseeable. Such is the case today.