Show Summary Details

Page of

 PRINTED FROM the OXFORD RESEARCH ENCYCLOPEDIA, LATIN AMERICAN HISTORY (latinamericanhistory.oxfordre.com). (c) Oxford University Press USA, 2016. All Rights Reserved. Personal use only; commercial use is strictly prohibited. Please see applicable Privacy Policy and Legal Notice (for details see Privacy Policy).

date: 22 June 2017

The Women of Guadalajara in Mexico’s History

Summary and Keywords

From the War of Independence until the recognition of female suffrage in Mexico in 1953, the women of Guadalajara witnessed different forms of activism that touched upon national and local issues, causing them to take to the streets in order to defend their families, their neighborhoods, and their communities: their political and religious ideals. Their active participation upended traditional notions of femininity within the Catholic Church and the liberal state of the 19th century, as well as the postrevolutionary state (1920–1940). The tasks they undertook over this lengthy period of time were highly diversified and encompassed welfare, education, war, politics, religion, and social endeavors.

Keywords: Independence War, La Reforma, Mexican Revolution, Guadalajara, Jalisco, women, gender, Cristiada, family, citizenship, education, religion, women’s suffrage

From the colonial era, the city of Guadalajara became a center of administration, agriculture, commerce, education, and services. Its scope of influence far surpassed the city limits, encompassing a great deal of western Mexico, thanks to its status as a “place in transit” between central Mexico and the northeastern coast.1 These elements contributed to the socio-historical construction of the region of Guadalajara. The local elite established bonds of kinship that allowed it to wield considerable influence in local government, thus controlling the proprietorship of land, trade, and cash flow as well as bureaucratic posts. The agricultural oligarchy had been gradually replaced by a commercial, industrial, financial, landowning bourgeoisie since the late 19th century. During the 19th and 20th centuries, Guadalajara continued to act as the headquarters of a ruling class whose influence extended beyond the state borders of Jalisco. Historically, it has been a spatially, politically, religiously, and socially divided city. In Guadalajara, there has been ongoing competition between Catholic and civic cultures, at times conflictive and at others resistant or in a state of modus vivendi, something that has distinguished this region and significantly marked women’s movements.

War of Independence

No studies have examined the political and cultural activities of women under the Intendencia of Guadalajara from 1808 to 1810 on a par with those dedicated to the Intendencias of Mexico and Valladolid.2 Occasional mentions of key figures suggest, however, that a treasure trove of histories remain to be investigated that would shed light on the role of women in the national independence movement. During—and following—the invasion of Joseph Bonaparte of Spain, which compelled Ferdinand VII to abdicate in 1808, a heated debate arose in the colonies regarding their status and whether or not they ought to defend the king and prove their loyalty to him. The voices of women in the Intendencia of Guadalajara regarding the king have not been successfully reconstructed, as Carmen Castañeda illustrates in her article on Doña Petra Manjarrés y Padilla, the widow heir to a printing press in Guadalajara that published all seven issues of the first insurgent newspaper, El Despertador Americano: Correo Político Económico de Guadalaxara. This newspaper was published immediately after the arrival of Miguel Hidalgo in Guadalajara, from December 1810 to January 1811.3 Through this periodical, the priest Severo Maldonado, who was in charge of its publication, issued propaganda in favor of Hidalgo’s movement to win over followers, describing the conditions under the Spanish monarchy following the Napoleonic occupation of the Iberian Peninsula and declaring that they sought “to keep America from falling into the hands of Frenchified Spaniards.”4 Reconstructing the voices of women during this period of time has proved to be very difficult, as we can see from what few traces were left behind by Petra Manjarrés, a woman belonging to the Guadalajaran elite; these traces are insufficient to salvage her opinions and positions regarding the progress of independence. Only the voice of her husband, José Fruto Romero, has been clearly identified, given that he declared before the royalist authorities following the defeat of Hidalgo at Puente de Calderón (January 17, 1811) that he fled before the insurgents’ arrival.5

Existing research enriches our understanding of women’s social history while at the same time showing that the public honor of women was considered relevant by the courts vis-à-vis their political engagement. Matters that we might consider private today could determine a woman’s fate in trials that investigated treason. In research carried out by the historian Carmen Castañeda regarding the widow Manjarrés, among others, succeeded in determining the kind of legal protection women could expect, as well as the degree of literacy, reading, and schooling of those who were impoverished or belonged to the elite during the colony and in the early 19th century provided by beaterías, women’s finishing or grammar schools where they learned Christian doctrine as well as how to read, write, and other tasks considered to be feminine.6 This training helped them manage their goods and legal resources (powers of attorney and wills) no matter whether they were married, in convents, or single, yet the administration of these areas depended greatly on the intervention of men. If they chose motherhood, this education would prepare them to be “responsible mothers, thrifty wives and useful companions to men.”7 Castañeda’s investigations regarding beaterías, schools, and convents for women and also regarding girls who were raped reconstruct the cultural values sustaining “women’s work” in Guadalajaran society during the late 18th and early 19th centuries, based on the concept of honor. Men and women conceived of this as moral integrity; that is to say, a woman should be chaste and honest before marrying.8 This ideal proved to be decisive in the trials of treason that took place during the War of Independence.

In recent times, some cultural and gender historians have analyzed the trials of women accused of treason under the Intendencia of Guadalajara, clarifying how women participated in this process.9 Most of these investigations have gone beyond the image of women who participated in the insurgency “simply […] out of love for their husbands.”10 Women contributed significantly to the War of Independence, acting as conspirators, collaborationists, nurses, spies, soldiers or comrades at arms, soldaderas, propagandists, seducers, and mothers. Both insurgents and royalists attempted to keep women from joining the troops and argued that this was necessary in order to maintain discipline among the regiments; paradoxically, they also undertook to mobilize women in order to attract more followers to their rank and file.

Research has indicated that there are very few documents in existence written by women themselves that speak of their experience during the war, of how they perceived the popular revolt of Hidalgo caused by the major agricultural crisis of 1808, or of their recollections of robbery, assault, rape, scandal, imprisonment, persecution, abuse, and false accusations.11 The following questions have been posed: What motivated women who participated in the insurgency? Did they uphold the same causes as men? How and why were criolla, mestiza, Indian, and black women politicized?

In most of the trials that took place at the Court of Nueva Galicia, those accused of being “addicted to the insurgent movement” and of participating in said movement were judged “not for their direct collaboration, but for neglecting the duties and obligations that, due to their condition as women, they were meant to fulfill.”12 Some were arrested for failing to denounce fathers, husbands, brothers, sons, or neighbors who had joined the insurgency; others were detained because there were no male figures in their homes; still others were taken in because they had persuaded men to join the insurrection or publicly manifested their support for the rebels or betrayed Spaniards to the insurgents or sold foodstuffs or provided shelter to insurgents on their property. There were even those who denounced their partners because they had broken off romantic ties.

Claudia Gamiño and Alejandra Hidalgo concluded that judges found it difficult to believe that women would actively participate alongside men in acts of rebellion. In many cases, it was recorded that their collaboration was circumstantial rather than conscious, resulting from their illicit relations with the insurgents. Therefore, none of them admitted to having actually participated in the movement.13 According to the judges, this conveyed poor conduct or a loss of honor. They sought to demonstrate that these women were dedicated to the “oldest profession.” In return, the women argued in their own defense that they did not have “the capacity to understand public affairs,” that they were mothers, or that they were pregnant. They invoked their “weakness”; their “lack of reflection”; the impoverished nature of their sex; the impossibility of convincing their husbands or companions to leave the insurgency or, if they were alone, of resisting male strength, not to mention their incapacity to understand political issues; all this they did in order to reduce their sentences.14 In general, arguments in their defense centered on demonstrating their honorable nature, while their defenders fell back on an essentialist discourse that placed women beyond the reach of all public deeds.15

Court-mandated sentences, therefore, called for measures that would “correct” women’s moral transgressions. All of them, guilty or innocent, had to pass through a process of “correction” in jail, at the Casa de Recogidas, or in the homes of honorable families. If they were remanded to the Casa de Recogidas, they considered it an affront to their honor, because poor women and prostitutes were lodged there.16

Women who participated in the War of Independence sought only to liberate “the fatherland”; they did not obtain greater power or authority for themselves, and they did not acquire “a civic awareness that would allow them to contemplate themselves as citizens with rights and obligations,” as men did.17 According to Asunción Lavrin, female participation during wartime yielded very little compensation for them as women; however, slavery and the caste system were abolished, and their impact has yet to be studied. Once the conflict was over, most women returned to the domestic realm and assumed once again traditional, domestic roles.18

Despite these contributions, a conscientious study is still pending with regard to Rita Pérez de Moreno and her sisters-in-law, Ignacia, Isabel, and Nicanora Moreno, who joined the insurgent Pedro Moreno in Lagos, under the Intendencia of Guadalajara. There are various fleeting references to Rita and what she represented as mother and wife, sacrificing herself to the cause of independence. It bears noting that the most extensive studies were elaborated from the 1870s to 1910,19 a time when women were making headway in certain professions, editing women’s magazines and increasing their indices of participation in the female labor force. But following the bicentennial of independence in 2010, they are mentioned only in passing in order to illustrate some of the actions of women during the insurgency. In Jalisco’s civic record, with its strong liberal tradition, Rita has been recovered and honored; her mortal remains were brought to the Rotunda of Illustrious Jaliscans in 2010. While Rita has been recognized as a heroine, however, she has been represented solely as a suffering, abnegated Republican mother with no autonomy.20

The works of Rodney Anderson have complemented recent findings regarding women by going into a detailed demographic and spatial description of men and women in Guadalajara following the War of Independence.21 Anderson maintains that Guadalajara, like other cities in the world at the time, had a larger percentage of women than men, which followed the same trend as Mexico City. Anderson, however, specifies the following nuances in keeping with profession, marriage status, race (caste), and ethnicity: he argues that this majority of women in Guadalajara from 1815 to 1821 was caused not by the War of Independence, but rather by the labor market and economic dynamism of the city, which required a larger population. He hypothetically proposes that “the concentration of wealth in urban areas allowed more prosperous families to subsidize single women or family widows, as well as more distant relatives and, of course, the ability to keep servants.”22 In the sample, Anderson registered that 15 percent of the female population were widows; 43.6 percent were women of Spanish descent and heads of households; and 38 percent were Indian women or from some other caste. Indian women tended to marry, whereas Spaniards could remain single. Many Spanish women were merchants and seamstresses, while Indian women made tortillas. The other occupations of Spanish women, other castes, and Indian women were atole beverage makers, cigar makers, laundresses, and spinners.

From La Reforma and the French Intervention to the Porfiriato

While advances have been made on the subject of women during the Insurgency, many gaps still exist concerning women in the 19th century. There are publications focused between the War of La Reforma, the French Intervention, and the Porfiriato regarding education, Catholicism, family, marriage, and abduction. No studies examine women during the electoral processes of the 19th century23 or the military processes of this period, to confirm whether or not they continued to act as combatants, nurses, spies, and propagandists, as they had during the War of Independence; only brief references to war policy and their involvement in private correspondence are stored in family archives.24

No studies exist of scattered references to Ignacia Riechy (1819–1865), a native of Guadalajara who collaborated with purebred Jaliscan liberals against Santa Anna and called to the women of Guadalajara to defend “the fatherland” with arms when the French Intervention was imminent. There is a need to delve deeper into why she adopted this political stance and how it was ignored as unfit for women. A biography is needed to study her transvestitism and her representations as an “Amazon,” a “barragana,” a “patriot” with a “male countenance,” or “as ugly as early morning cramps and with a mannish face.” There is a need to explore how she came to join the forces of General José María Arteaga as an ensign and why, despite her great bravery on various battlefronts of Michoacán, after having fallen prisoner then having escaped in Orizaba, she then rejoined the liberal forces, only to be harassed by her comrades at arms, whose strong ridicule triggered her suicide in Zitácuaro in 1865.25 This case seems to support the thesis Francie Chassen-López has elaborated regarding Oaxaca during the Three Years’ War, where she examines Juana Catarina Romero.26 This historian contends that war tends to reinforce traditional definitions of masculinity and femininity, pointing out that both liberals and conservatives publicly shamed transgressive women, while, at the end of the Three Years’ War, liberal ideals were reaffirmed through the separation of the public sphere as exclusive to men and the private sphere to women, whose role model became “the Republican mother.” The case of Ignacia Riechy asks the question why not only her enemies but, indeed, her own comrades would mock her so harshly. This case could very well qualify and expand on Chassen-López’s thesis, given that it would show liberal masculine insecurities before a transgressive figure perceived of as questioning their masculinity.

Recent studies regarding this period have reconstructed the multifaceted performance of Catholic women during these processes, documenting how, through their actions, they refuted this liberal vision of separate spheres. The research of Carmen Castañeda and Myrna Cortés regarding girls who attended the Colegio de San Diego (1803–1860) has examined both the student and the administrative populations. At this colegio, some learned reading, writing, and Christian doctrine, whereas for others it represented a place of reclusion, something along the lines of a convent or beatería. Women could use the education they received at this institution to protect their goods and businesses and to defend in civil court the properties of their relatives or the Catholic Church, as they did during the War of La Reforma. As was the case in their study of the War of Independence, Castañeda and Cortés found it difficult to uncover the voice of women. What precisely the women of Colegio de San Diego thought about the War of Reform remains unclear. However, they state that “even the letters of the dean of the Colegio tenuously show opinions that reject any legal transformations that would affect them.”27

The research of Margaret Chowning into the women of the Vela Perpetua (1840) and that of Silvia Arrom regarding women in San Vicente de Paul clubs have demonstrated how the strong activism of Catholics from the upper and middle classes transformed traditional gender roles. For these Catholics, their social class and the education they received allowed them to participate in the public sphere rather forcefully and in new ways, expanding on the notions of domesticity as well as political, social, and religious issues.

As Silvia Arrom commented regarding the late 19th century: “As female schooling increased and the ideal of feminine seclusion declined, many Mexican women sought outlets where they could apply their talents.”28 It remains to be determined whether the students and teachers of the Colegio de San Diego studied by Castañeda and Cortés formed part of the associations La Vela Perpetua and San Vicente de Paul.

The actions of these women contributed significantly to the resurgence of a Catholic Church that had lost ground after the Wars of Independence and Reform. Above all, the church recognized that it needed this help. Chowning specifies that isolated references to the public participation of women in political debates regarding the Catholic Church in Guadalajara start to appear in the 1840s.29 She shows that the feminization of faith was accompanied and propitiated by demasculinization, the crisis, and the disappearance of secret brotherhoods in western Mexico, especially under the bishoprics of Guadalajara, Michoacán, Guanajuato, and Puebla. She argues that this was due to changes in discourse—concretely, the dissemination of liberal principles that were somewhat hostile to these modes of corporate organization—as well as the economic crisis that affected the brotherhoods of central Mexico. Likewise, she points out as a cause and effect of said feminization of piety the emergence of new, secular forms of masculine association, such as Masonic loggias, political clubs, and economic and scientific societies. These reproduced the discrimination toward women formerly present in the cofradías. She concludes that La Vela Perpetua propitiated a role of greater leadership of women within the church, given that they were no longer subordinate to men, as was the case in the cofradías.30 “The Church did not set out to entrust its lay associations to women, nor did women take on these leadership roles in the expectation that they would be able to translate into political action, or even a kind of citizenship, the skills they gained and the responsibilities they had shouldered. But that is what happened.”31

While Chowning centers on piety within the church, in her book Volunteering for a Cause: Gender, Faith, and Charity in Mexico from the Reform to the Revolution (2016), Silvia Arrom explores the leadership and public participation of women in the Asociación de Señoras de la Caridad de San Vicente de Paul from 1850 to 1910. Originally, this religious organization composed of Catholic ladies focused solely on attending to the sick and poor, but as time passed they expanded their charitable actions to welfare concerns such as nursing, education, and social work, before any of these careers were professionalized. Through their work they not only contributed to the resurgence of Mexican Catholicism, but they also gained ground in terms of sociability, prestige, and power. Their activities transformed the prescriptive ideal of domesticity for women of the upper and middle classes. By going out into the street, they gave charity and faith a political twist. The fragmentary statistical and qualitative data of their extensive network of elementary schools, asylums, clinics, and dispensaries show that their most successful case was that of Guadalajara. This became the example to follow, because they succeeded in creating a variety of centers, hospitals, and schools, raising a large quantity of pecuniary funds through a great many affiliates. Arrom details the gender division of labor between men and women in these associations, which was manifest in the different ways they practiced their faith and in their involvement in charity activities. The men were dedicated to carrying out lobbying and administration in public institutions or the press; they contributed with money, goods, and services, while the women concentrated on building local networks in city neighborhoods and rural areas in the name of the Catholic Church. For Arrom, this broad, yet solid network helps us understand the great success of Catholic social action organizations following the passage of the Rerum Novarum encyclical (1891) and the rapid establishment of the Partido Católico Nacional (1912).

The political, religious, and social activism of Catholic women contrasted significantly with the perceptions and applications of colonial legislation—which, even in the early 19th century, imposed restrictions and offered protection to women by means of male representation and tutelage—and with the liberal legislation that followed the War of La Reforma. During that century, the Catholic Church and incipient liberal state disputed control over the family, conceived of as the building block of civic society. In Guadalajara and in Jalisco, an intense conflict took place between church and state; two cultural traditions of Guadalajara, the liberal and the Catholic, clashed while trying to dominate political, social, educational, and religious arenas. Carmen Ramos Escandón argues that the case of Guadalajara is original, given this sharp confrontation between both sides for control over the family, in a region that had enjoyed autonomy since the late 18th century.32 The local bourgeoisie of the early years of the 19th century attempted to close ranks and conserve their homogeneity despite what they considered to be the attacks of central Mexico. Their strategies of reproduction and conservation of wealth do not vary substantially from their colonial strategies: marriage and investments in agriculture, commerce, mining, and manufacturing.33

Carmen Ramos Escandón, in her book Ciudadanía carente: Género y legislación en Guadalajara, 1870–1917, uses the case of Guadalajara to scrutinize how, through the formation of the national liberal state and the consolidation of the capitalist bourgeoisie, ideals of citizenship, family, and civil matrimony were constructed in order to impose the model of the nuclear, monogamist family with a single line of inheritance. The proposals and civil codes of the 19th century (1832, 1871, 1875, 1884) in Jalisco and in Mexico City affected men and women differently. The Ley Orgánica del Registro Civil (1857) and the Código Civil del Estado de Jalisco (1875) established matrimony as a civil contract and went beyond its sacramental nature in order to recognize the right of the state to legitimize the marriage bond. They admitted divorce in the sense of a couple’s separation, but they did not contemplate the possibility of remarriage, approved in Mexico City in 1917. Ramos Escandón goes beyond the prescriptions of the law by exploring exemplary battles between couples, in order to take apart how the new civil laws were set in motion. In her revision, the judges found not only in favor of men; women did win some cases by defending their right to sustenance and motherhood.

Despite the invocation of equality and some modifications to the law that benefited women by giving them hereditary rights just like their brothers had, the situation between men and women was not egalitarian. Inequalities of gender were reproduced based on the biological sex of individuals and their relationship to the state apparatus. Ramos Escandón maintains that the concept of citizenship for women was one of dependent citizenship. Women experienced a different situation from that of men belonging to their same social class. They were not autonomous individuals; on the contrary, their personal rights were ascribed to them by virtue of their relationship to either the male or the closest family member on whom they were dependent.34

The investigations of Carmen Castañeda García and Laura Benítez Barba delve deeper into another aspect of law and gender by reconstructing how and why men and women participated in the practices of statutory rape, kidnapping, and rape from the end of the colony through the 19th century.35 As Katryn A. Sloan accomplished in her research on Oaxaca during the 19th century,36 Benítez Barba also explores (1810–1824, 1885–1933) the constant negotiation of gender roles and renegotiation of the marriage contract between men and women before church, state, and society. For Benítez Barba, from a public moral standpoint, it was perceived that kidnapping affected women more than men, owing to a probable loss of female honor. This weighed far more heavily than the legal infraction being committed. Like William French in his cultural research in Chihuahua regarding love and courtship,37 Benítez Barba has also analyzed the love letters exchanged by those involved in kidnapping in order to determine their agency as well as how and why they decided to become accessories to such a crime. Like Sloan, Benítez Barba also found some cases in which women took on roles considered to be more male, persuading their lovers to elope and then defending their honor before the judge.

The Mexican Revolution and Postrevolutionary Process

For a great deal of the 19th century and toward the end of the Porfirian era, the Catholic and liberal practice and representation of cultural traditions in Guadalajara continued to compete. They would be confronted once again during the Mexican Revolution (1910–1917) and postrevolutionary process (1920–1940). Unlike studies dedicated to the War of Independence and the 19th century, those related to the Mexican Revolution, the postrevolutionary process, and La Cristiada (1926–1929) have examined more broadly the extensive participation of women in these processes based on documents, interviews, and photographs. On one hand, recent studies on the Mexican Revolution in Jalisco have refuted the notion that Jalisco and Guadalajara represented the “henhouse of the revolution.”38 On the other, studies regarding women’s movements during and after the armed struggle in Guadalajara argue that the participation of women in the public sphere was made more visible, given that revolutionaries and Catholics were nurses, propagandists, cultural lieutenants, female colonels, soldaderas, teachers, and even spies.39

Women were mobilized massively, because different processes created inroads for their participation in the public sphere and significantly influenced the course of these processes (the Mexican Revolution and the formation of a new state; the emergence of social, labor, feminist, and Catholic movements; changes in the labor force; the increase in rates of literacy and female education). Modern women of Guadalajara, such as the anticlerical teachers Laura and Atala Apodaca or Irene Robledo García, also sought to expand their political and social rights. They expanded the parameters of practices and representations of women, intermingled with discourses of modernity, femininity, and politics.

The dispute between constitutionalists and the Catholic hierarchy for “control of conscience” shed light on the debate regarding the role that women ought to play in the construction of a modern nation.40 The participation of women in the public sphere redefined cultural and social constructions of what “a man,” “a woman,” femininity and masculinity, public and private, and politics ought to be. The visible presence of women in public spaces caused diverse discourses and practices to emerge and clashes regarding the social order, gender identities, and sexual differences. The contributions of both men and women to the Mexican Revolution of 1910 were mediated by the development and effects of the armed movement itself. These repercussions ranged from a considerable increase in the mortality of the population as a result of the violence brought on by the revolution to the obligatory migration of inhabitants due to the civil war, to the famine produced by the scarcity of grain and price gouging, to the outbreak of epidemics, to rural movements that protested being stripped of their communal lands, to the outbreak of workers’ strikes and the emergence of the organized labor movement and the incipient feminist movement. The Mexican Revolution opened the floodgates to an active civil society, whose members were mobilized by diverse cultural, ideological, political, religious, and social interests.

As Margaret Chowning, Silvia Arrom, and Pamela Voekel have indicated regarding the 19th-century liberals who attempted to discredit the Catholic Church, constitutionalists also identified the image of the church with women, conceiving of them as their main adversary: they represented themselves in a very male manner and were perceived to be rational and civilized. For a constitutionalist man, the modern woman ought to be an agent of defense against the Carranza revolution and a moral figure in society. The vision the constitutionalists held of the modern woman was much broader. To them, the modern women ought to practice habits of hygiene and reading as well as to be able to follow fashion cautiously. It was also recommended that she attend university, work, and practice a sport. These characteristics are similar to those demanded of the prerevolutionary modern woman, who also was expected to have a taste for reading and follow the latest fashion. The postrevolutionary modern woman studied by Rick López, Adriana Zavala, Joanne Hershfield, and Anne Rubenstein in Mexico City and by Teresa Fernández in Guadalajara not only bobbed her hair and purchased transnational consumer goods. She also worked in factories, offices, and stores. More than a frivolous consumer, she also demanded her rights (civil, political, and social).41

Women like Laura Apodaca and Hermila Galindo initiated processes that feminist historians have labeled as the rationalization of domesticity and the modernization of the patriarchy; that is to say, the transformation of traditional gender roles by means of agrarian, civil, labor, and political reforms that awarded more rights to women and children inside the home and at the workplace; they also promoted hygiene campaigns in order to control the conduct of individuals and drive national development, but without destroying the patriarchy.42 Like some feminists and liberal women of the 19th century, the Apodaca sisters and Robledo García lent great importance to secular education. Unlike Hermila Galindo and other feminists who supported women’s suffrage during the 1910s and 1920s, they concentrated on the struggle for the right of women to education in order to secure their liberation. For the sisters Apodaca and Robledo García, this pedagogical strategy was more transcendental than the fight for women’s suffrage and a way to counteract religious influence. This stance could be considered liberated because it empowered subjects, allowing them to make independent decisions. This idea was revolutionary and remains valid even today. But their actions and proposals were overshadowed, then forgotten due to the following processes: (a) Focus was given to disseminating the programs of Manuel M. Diéguez and José Guadalupe Zuno Hernández, given that because they were men, it was “natural” and appropriate that they elaborate anticlerical revolutionary policies. The teachers who supported them and transgressed the social and gender order “were making too much noise,” which is why they did not receive the same recognition and were remembered far less. (b) In the successful, strong, and massive Catholic movement of 1918 and 1919 to abolish decrees that restricted the number of priests and temples and during La Cristiada (1926–1928), Catholic women appeared as a visible, collective presence. The actions of these women formed part of the public record and were preserved as a latent conservative power that could very well explode and block the modernization of the nation. Recent studies have provided a more nuanced analysis of the history of the armed movement in Guadalajara and have incorporated both men and women (anarcho-syndicalists, Catholics, Spiritists, Reyists, liberal-conservatives, Maderists, Masons, Protestants and anticlericals), recasting the role they played during the Mexican Revolution and the postrevolutionary process.

Catholic Movements

Recent historical investigations regarding Catholics in the 20th century have reconstructed organizations of Catholic women that were very well structured in rural and urban arenas. They have recovered the role of the Brigadas Femininas de Santa Juana de Arco, despite the Presbyterian Darío Miranda’s burning of his archives in order to erase any trace of their autonomy and combativeness, and the painstaking activities of the Unión Feminina Católica have also been reexamined. These indicate that perhaps they were in the majority, whereas liberal associations of women were a minority.

Agustín Vaca, in Los silencios de la historia: Las Cristeras, provides a more nuanced analysis of the activism of Cristeras through the discursive narratives of those he interviewed, in order to contrast the concepts and representations of feminine ideals with their practices. They contradicted the discourse of the press, literature, and historiography in different ways and refuted the religious mono-causality with which their participation in the war has been explained and that has presented the Cristeras as subordinate to men in their roles as combatants or performing domestic labors. According to Vaca, the Cristeras, in their testimonies, sought to “reaffirm themselves before men, obtaining recognition of the new areas of activity that had been opened up to them, as confirmation of their traditional tasks and their place in society.”43 He concludes that “the social oppression that prevailed regarding the feminine world and the defense of spaces where women could wield a certain authority and carry out activities other than domestic ones were conditions that, hidden behind the religious discourse, made them determined to combat the constitutional government.”44

As Chowning and Arrom have argued regarding the Catholic women of the 19th century, Kristina Boylan concludes that the activism of the Catholic women in the early decades of the 20th century was not an automatic response to the Catholic hierarchy. Although this mobilization was framed by a conservative discourse, they transformed their homes, churches, schools, workplaces, and communities. In the end, “they expanded on the limits of public discourse and spaces for women, including Catholic women.”45

From Women’s Suffrage to Elected Office

The clashes between the Catholic Church and the state mobilized women to defend their respective proposals. This conflict resulted in pushing into background the demand for women’s suffrage. Such mobilizations radicalized both groups in the struggle for the expansion of their economic, political, and social rights. For progressive women, suffrage was not a priority, but they did demand educational reforms that they thought would bring about changes in the long term through the emancipation of women and their minds.

Throughout the decades from 1910 to 1950, a politics of resistance predominated in Jalisco in favor of women’s suffrage, because the prevalent idea was that women were a very conservative element and would not favor the Partido Nacional Revolucionario–Partido de la Revolución Mexicana or the Partido Revolucionario Institucional (PRI), which were not prepared for civic and political life and would trigger political and social chaos, as was the case with the Catholic movements of 1918–1919 and of 1926–1929. Despite the fact that these ideas prevailed, two organizations struggled for political and social change for women: the Círculo Radical Feminino (1918) and the Círculo Feminista de Occidente (CFO, 1927). The first was affiliated with the Casa del Obrero Mundial and had confronted the strong Catholic movement against the legislation of Governor Manuel M. Diéguez. It was the source of future labor leaders, feminists, and suffragists such as María Guadalupe Martínez Villanueva (1906–2002) and María Arcelia Díaz (1896–1939), who, from the late 1920s until the year 2000, worked at the CFO. The CFO taught how to write and read and politicized workers and housewives so that they would defend their labor, political, and social rights. Likewise, they joined the great national campaign of the Frente Único Pro Derechos de la Mujer in 1935 and participated in national and local lobbying in favor of women’s suffrage from 1946 to 1953.46

From the end of the 1940s to the early 1950s, right-wing groups such as the Partido de Acción Nacional and Acción Católica Mexicana, as well as Pope Pius XII, declared themselves in favor of the vote for women, because women would defend their interests. They argued that women’s political participation would not undermine family values. Despite their party differences and religious positions, each group, with its own gender culture, agreed with traditional constructions of gender relations according to which women ought to safeguard the social and family order. They were allowed to enter into the field of politics only to attend to and serve others. The idea was still dominant that political work was, first and foremost, masculine. During this decade, a consensus was reached in the sense that women would enter politics in order to carry out social and welfare tasks by means of their political citizenship, but it was still necessary to justify and legitimize why certain women ought to fight to run for publicly elected office and become political representatives, despite the fact that in this jurisdiction political equality had been recognized by means of reforms to articles 34 and 115 of the constitution and article 4 of the state constitution in 1954.

The following year, the PRI ran women for federal deputy positions that would help them to expand their electoral base for the first time. These candidates included María Guadalupe Urzúa Flores (1912–2004), who was the first female federal deputy in the state of Jalisco. In 1955, she became one of the first five women to serve as deputies in Mexico. She, just like other women of her time, was a municipal regent and vice president before becoming a federal deputy. The history of women in posts of popular election has been closely examined by Ileana Cristina Gómez Ortega and published as Las primeras diputadas en Jalisco (1955–1965) and as her master’s thesis, “Las mujeres en los puestos de elección popular en los municipios, 1947–1965,” where it has been itemized who they were, what factors influenced their entry into politics, and what was the perception regarding them among different social sectors.47

Discussion of the Literature

In Guadalajara and the surrounding region, the history of women and the history of gender have been approached from different perspectives—anthropological, historical, literary, and sociological—since the late 1970s, in order to provide a panorama of the historic and social conditions of women. Only the book by Aurea Zafra Oropeza, La mujer en la historia de Jalisco (1984), contributes a rather superficial historical vision of women from the time of the Conquest up until the 1970s, without taking into account theoretical and methodological issues from gender studies or women’s history. Both this book and the article by Carmen Castañeda regarding the Casa de Recogidas inaugurated the field of women’s history in Guadalajara.48 The articles, theses, and books edited by anthropologists and sociologists from 1988 to 1998 centered mainly on the 20th century but with some analysis from the late 18th and 19th centuries in order to discuss themes regarding culture, cinema, education, literature, politics, properties, health, sexuality, work, and domestic violence.49 It was not until the decade following 2000 that works were published with a historical gaze in order to make visible, describe in detail, and reconstruct the presence and role of women in the 19th and 20th centuries. In said works, some of the aforementioned themes are discussed, while other aspects of religion and private life are also introduced, such as marriage and divorce, sexuality, and criminality under the law.50 In the book of life stories and biographies edited by Anayanci Fregoso, Siete historias de vida, private and public lives are interwoven of women who had an important role in the educational, labor, religious, and social politics of Guadalajara and Jalisco.

Starting in the 1980s, historical studies regarding women in Guadalajara have concentrated on a specific period and theme, such as the research of Dawn Keremitsis regarding women working in the textile industry and the paper industry51 or the book by Carmen Castañeda titled Violación, estupro y sexualidad.52 A broader, general work does not exist regarding the history of women and gender in Guadalajara and its region along the lines of the one written by Fernanda Núñez and Rosa María Spinoso on Veracruz.53 Existing works approach certain issues and periods, such as Agustín Vaca’s excellent book regarding women and La Cristiada; in-depth life histories based on interviews that highlight some aspect of a historic process in the 20th century and its relationship to daily life; and women in teaching, family, motherhood, sexuality, and legislation.54

Following the bicentennial of the War of Independence in 2010, various studies were published regarding the different roles that women performed in this bellicose process, but several questions still remain, as do themes to be researched regarding the role of women in Guadalajara in literary salons, academic meetings, assembly houses, music academies, cafés, and other public places before and during the War of Independence. These themes include whether women collaborated in the secret society of Los Guadalupes, which sought greater autonomy in internal affairs of the kingdom and supported the independence movement;55the function of the Patriotas Marianas royalist women; as well as the transvestitism of women in wartime. The completion of a biography that explores the lives of the so-called Generala Rita Pérez de Moreno and her sisters-in-law would also be useful. The War of La Reforma and the French Intervention have been studied from a traditional, male gaze, but studies similar to the ones carried out by Francie Chassen-López in Oaxaca are required in order to confirm or expand on her thesis that during this period “the rhetoric of war tends to reinforce the traditional ‘definitions’ of masculinity and femininity, yet the everyday demands of war fundamentally modified the existing gender division of labor.”56

Although the politicization of women through literary salons, masonic loggias, liberal clubs, and labor and non-Catholic press associations is being reconstructed, there is still a lack of greater documentation regarding this aspect that would allow a more nuanced evaluation of the activism of both groups and their participation in the electoral processes of the 19th and 20th centuries.

Primary Sources

For a more detailed discussion of the documentary collections in Guadalajara, we recommend a reading of the article by Carmen Casteñeda from 1975, in which she describes the historic archives of Guadalajara;57 the compendium of Mexico compiled by Ricardo Ávila Palafox and Rosa Yáñez for the Guía preliminar de fuentes documentales etnográficas para el estudio de los pueblos indígenas de Iberoamérica, edited by Fundación Histórica Tavera;58 and the articles from the review Desacatos dated 2008, dedicated to discussing historic archives, the production of knowledge of history, and the Law of Transparency in public archives.59

Currently, the Dirección General de Archivos of the State of Jalisco supervises the collections in the care of the executive branch of the State of Jalisco. The following historical archives are available: Archivo Histórico de Jalisco, Archivo de Instrumentos Públicos, Archivo de Asuntos Agrarios, Archivo de Registro Civil, and the Archivo del Registro Público de la Propiedad y Comercio. Of these, the following favor documentation from the 19th and 20th centuries: the Archivo Histórico de Jalisco, created in 1976, stores mostly documents from the public administration of the executive branch following the establishment of the state of Jalisco in 1824 up until the 1960s. This is an excellent collection of documents to study subjects related to agrarian matters, governance, treasury, industry, elections, public instruction, the War of La Reforma, the Porfiriato, the Mexican Revolution, the unionization of the working class, and matters of justice.

The Archivo de Instrumentos Públicos conserves part of the archive of the Audiencia Real de Guadalajara and the books of public notaries from the colony until the 1960s. In the notary section, wills, contracts of purchase and sale, property deeds, establishments of businesses, and the creation of associations of various kinds can be found.

The Archivo Histórico Municipal de Guadalajara is the city archive that stores documentation from 1573 to the 1960s. Here the cabildo books can be reviewed, as well as a great range of documents regarding municipal government.

The Archivo Histórico de la Universidad de Guadalajara, “Casa Zuno,” includes documents regarding the establishment and closing of the University of Guadalajara (UdeG) and the institutes of higher education during the 19th century, the inauguration of the UdeG by Governor José Guadalupe Zuno Hernández in 1925, books from the University Council, and books of degrees, in addition to documentation regarding the establishment of schools and fields of study, student and teaching population, university congresses and teaching, student and professional organizations.

The Biblioteca Pública del Estado de Jalisco Juan José Arreola is one of the most important archives, because as a state public library it stores information from the Real Audiencia de Guadalajara (16th–19th centuries), the Judicial Branch (19th–20th centuries), the Real Universidad de Guadalajara (1792–1850), and manuscripts and miscellaneous documents (16th–20th centuries). Its historic media archive is very rich, because it conserves newspapers not only from Guadalajara and Jalisco but also from other states and Mexico City as well.

The Archivo Histórico de la Arquidiócesis de Guadalajara is a basic archive for those interested in reviewing ecclesiastical and private affairs. Its collection is divided into the following sections: administration, government, justice, and miscellaneous documents. In these sections, documentation can be consulted regarding priests and the relationship between church and state from the 16th century until 1958.

Further Reading

Anderson, Rodney. Guadalajara a la consumación de la Independencia: Estudio de su población según los padrones de 1821–1822. Guadalajara, Mexico: Gobierno de Jalisco, Unidad Editorial, 1983.Find this resource:

Arrom, Silvia Marina. Volunteering for a Cause: Gender, Faith, and Charity in Mexico from the Reform to the Revolution. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2016.Find this resource:

Boylan, Kristina. “Mexican Catholic Women’s Activism, 1929–1940.” PhD Diss., Oxford University, 2001.Find this resource:

Castañeda García, Carmen. Violación, estupro y sexualidad: Nueva Galicia, 1790–1821. Guadalajara, Mexico: Hexágono, 1989.Find this resource:

Fernández Aceves, María Teresa. Mujeres en el cambio social en el siglo XX mexicano. Mexico City: CIESAS, Siglo Veintiuno Editores, 2014.Find this resource:

Fregoso Centeno, Anayanci. Maternidad y niñez en el Hospicio Cabañas. Guadaljara, 1920–1940. Guadalajara, Mexico: Editorial Universitaria de la Universidad de Guadalajara, El Colegio de Jalisco, 2011.Find this resource:

Isais Contreras, Miguel Ángel, Ma. Candelaria Ochoa Avalos, and Jorge Gómez Naredo, eds. Mujeres insurgentes, mujeres rebeldes. Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, 2015.Find this resource:

Keremetsis, Dawn. “La doble jornada de la mujer en Guadalajara, 1910–1940.” Encuentro 1 (October–December 1984): 41–64.Find this resource:

Ramos Escandón, Carmen. Ciudadanía carente: Género y legislación en Guadalajara, 1870–1917. 1st ed. Vol. 3. Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, 2013.Find this resource:

Vaca, Agustín. Los silencios de la historia: Las Cristeras. Guadalajara, Mexico: El Colegio de Jalisco, 1998.Find this resource:

Notes:

(1.) Guillermo de la Peña Topete, El cambio social en la región de Guadalajara: Notas bibliográficas, Cuadernos de difusión científica 46 (Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, 1995).

(2.) Moisés Guzmán Pérez, “Mujeres de amor y de guerra: Roles femeninos en la Independencia de México,” in Mujeres insurgentes (Mexico City: Senado de la República, Comisión Especial Encargada de los Festejos del Bicentenario de la Independencia y el Centenario de la Revolución Mexicana del Senado de la República, Siglo XXI Editores, 2010), 21–28.

(3.) Carmen Castañeda García, “Doña Petra Manjarrés y Padilla, ciudad y heredera de imprenta en Guadalajara, 1808–1821,” in Viudas en la historia, ed. Manuel Ramos Medina (Mexico City: Centro de Estudios de Historia de México CONDUMEX, 2002), 167–180.

(4.) Alfredo Ávila, “Prólogo,” in El despertador american, ed. Francisco Severo Maldonado (Mexico City: CONACULTA, 2010).

(5.) Castañeda García, “Doña Petra Manjarrés y Padilla, ciudad y heredera de imprenta en Guadalajara, 1808–1821.”

(6.) Meanwhile, children and youths had access to higher education in two seminaries (1699) and in the Real Universidad (1792). Carmen Castañeda García “Relaciones entre beaterios, colegios y conventos femeninos en Guadalajara, época colonial,” in Memoria del II Congreso Internacional El Monacato Femenino en el Imperio Español: Monasterios, beaterios, recogimientos y colegios. Homenaje a Josefina Muriel, ed. Manuel Ramos Medina (Mexico City: Centro de Estudios de Historia de México Condumex, 1995), 455–475; Carmen Castañeda García “La educación de mujeres en Guadalajara durante el periodo colonial,” in Mujeres latinoamericanas: Historia y cultura, ed. Luisa Campuzano (Havana, Cuba: Ediciones Casa de las Américas, 1997), 125–139; and Carmen Castañeda García and Myrna Cortés, “Educación y protección legal de mujeres en Guadalajara, México, en la primera mitad del siglo XIX,” in Obedecer, servir y resistir: La educación de las mujeres en la historia de México, ed. Adelina Arredondo (Mexico City: Universidad Pedagógica Nacional, Porrúa, 2003), 63–82.

(7.) Carmen Castañeda García, “Género e historia,” Clío: Revista de la Facultad de Historia 18–19 (1996–1997): 52.

(8.) Castañeda García, “Género e historia,” 50.

(9.) Miguel Ángel Isais Contreras, Ma. Candelaria Ochoa Avalos, and Jorge Gómez Naredo, eds. Mujeres insurgentes, mujeres rebeldes (Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, 2015).

(10.) Guzmán Pérez, “Mujeres de amor y de guerra,” 89.

(11.) Jaime Olveda Legaspi, “Las mujeres insurgentas, 1810–1821,” in Independencia y revolución: Reflexiones en torno del bicentenario y el centenario, ed. Jaime Olveda (Guadalajara, Mexico: El Colegio de Jalisco, 2010), 46.

(12.) Claudia Gamiño Estrada, “Justicia, insurgencia y recogimiento: Mujeres ante la Audiencia de la Nueva Galicia,” in Mujeres insurgentes, mujeres rebeldes, 111–137; Jorge Gómez Naredo, “De insurgencia, dominación y resistencia: Mujeres en la Guerra de Independencia; Casos en la Intendencia de Guadalajara,” in Cultura y sociedad emergente durante el proceso de Independencia, 1792–1822, ed. Arturo Camacho Becerra and Celia del Palacio Montiel, Jalisco: Independencia y Revolución. Colección conmemorativa (Guadalajara, Mexico: El Colegio de Jalisco, 2010), 69–71; Bertha Marina Trujillo, “Una lectura a los juicios contra mujeres infidentes novohispanas desde la perspectiva de género,” La Ventana: Revista de Estudios de Género 4 (1996): 60–75; Bertha Marina Trujillo Carrasco, “Ni socias, ni adictas a la insurrección: Madres juzgadas durante la Guerra de Independencia en Jalisco,” in Cultura y sociedad emergente durante el proceso de Independencia, 1792–1822, 93–116; and Alejandra Hidalgo Rodríguez, “Los discursos olvidados: Mujeres e Independencia en el occidente de México,” in Mujeres insurgentes, mujeres rebeldes, 57–110.

(13.) Gamiño Estrada, “Justicia, insurgencia y recogimiento,” 113–137; and Hidalgo Rodríguez, “Los discursos olvidados,” 57–110.

(14.) Alberto Baena Zapatero, “La participación de las novohispanas en la Guerra de Independencia,” in Mujeres insurgentes, mujeres rebeldes, 31, 45.

(15.) Hidalgo Rodríguez, “Los discursos olvidados,” 57–110.

(16.) Baena Zapatero, “La participación de las novohispanas en la Guerra de Independencia,” 44.

(17.) Rocío Córdova Plaza, “‘Por no haber una muger que no sea una berdadera insurgenta’: Hacia una historia de la participación femenina en la Guerra de Independencia,” in Mujeres insurgentes, 99–146.

(18.) Asunción Lavrin, “Introducción,” in Las mujeres latinoamericanas: Perspecrivas históricas, ed. Asunción Lavrin (Mexico City: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1985), 20.

(19.) Laureana Wright de Kleinhas, “Rita Pérez de Moreno y sus cuñadas Ignacia, Isabel y Nicanora,” in Heroínas de México. Homenaje del Partido Institucional a la mujer mexicana, ed. Partido Revolucionario Institucional (Mexico City: PRI, 1953), 45–60; and Agustín Rivera, Viaje a las ruinas del Fuerte del Sombrero (Mexico City: Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes, 2010).

(20.) María Teresa Fernández Aceves, Julia Preciado Zamora, and Alma Dorantes González, “Honor y política: La rotonda de los personajes ilustres en el siglo XXI,” in Jalisco hoy: Miradas antropológicas, Guadalajara, ed. Renée de la Torre y Santiago Bastos (Guadalajara, Mexico: CIESAS, 2012), 319–358.

(21.) Rodney Anderson, Guadalajara a la consumación de la Independencia: Estudio de su población según los padrones de 1821–1822 (Guadalajara, Mexico: Gobierno de Jalisco, Unidad Editorial, 1983).

(22.) Rodney Anderson, “Las mujeres de Guadalajara, 1821,” Revista de la Universidad de Guadalajara 3.23 (1986): 4.

(23.) For an excellent study regarding electoral processes in the 19th century, see Fausta Gantús and Alicia Salmerón, eds., Prensa y elecciones: Formas de hacer política en el México del siglo XIX (Mexico City: Instituto Mora, CONACYT, Instuto Nacional Electoral, 2014).

(24.) Elisa Cárdenas Ayala, “Ciudadanas en república autoritaria: México, 1846–2000,” in Enciclopedia histórica y política de las mujeres: Europa y América, ed. Christine Fauré (Madrid: Akal, 2010), 826–827.

(25.) Gabriel Agraz García de Alba, Jalisco y sus hombres: Compendio de geografía, historia y biografía jalisciense (Guadalajara, Mexico: no publisher, 1958), 229; Ricardo Covarrubias, Mujeres de México, 2d ed. (Monterrey, Mexico: Gobierno del Estado de Nuevo León, 1981), 129–133; José Herrera Peña, “La resisrencia republicana en Michoacán,” in La resistencia republicana en las entidades federativas de México, ed. Patricia Galeana (Mexico City: Senado de la República, Gobierno del Estado de Puebla, Siglo XXI Editores, 2012), 461; Victoriano Salado Álvarez, Episodios nacionales: Santa Anna. La reforma. La intervención. El imperio, vol. 12 (Mexico City: no publisher, 1945), 25; and Aurea Zafra Oropeza, La mujer en la historia de Jalisco (Guadalajara, Mexico: Unidad Editorial del Gobierno de Jalisco, 1997), 50–51.

(26.) Francie Chassen-López, “Guerra, nación y género: Las oaxaqueñas en la Guerra de los Tres Años,” in México durante la Guerra de Reforma: Contextos, prácticas culturales, imaginarios y representaciones, ed. Celia del Palacio Montiel (Xalapa, Mexico: Universidad Veracruzana, Dirección General Editorial, 2011), 97–137.

(27.) Castañeda García and Cortés, “Educación y protección legal de mujeres en Guadalajara, México, en la primera mitad del siglo XIX,” 80.

(28.) Silvia Marina Arrom, Volunteering for a Cause: Gender, Faith, and Charity in Mexico from the Reform to the Revolution (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2016).

(29.) Margaret Chowning, “The Catholic Church and the Ladies of the Vela Perpetua: Gender and Devotional Change in Nineteenth-Century Mexico,” Past & Present 221.1 (2013): 236.

(30.) Castañeda García and Cortés, “Educación y protección legal de mujeres en Guadalajara, México, en la primera mitad del siglo XIX,” 17.

(31.) Chowning, “The Catholic Church and the Ladies of the Vela Perpetua,” 236.

(32.) Carmen Ramos Escandón, Ciudadanía carente: Género y legislación en Guadalajara, 1870–1917, 1st ed., vol. 3 (Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, 2013), 151.

(33.) Ramos Escandón, Ciudadanía carente, 60.

(34.) Ramos Escandón, Ciudadanía carente, 14.

(35.) Carmen Castañeda García, Violación, estupro y sexualidad: Nueva Galicia, 1790–1821 (Guadalajara, Mexico: Hexágono, 1989); Laura Benítez Barba, “El rapto: Un repaso histórico-legal del robo femenino,” Estudios Sociales 1 (2007): 103–131; Laura Benítez Barba, “El amor en la Guadalajara porfiriana: Cartas de Enrique J. Remus a Antonia C. Castro,” in Contribuciones a la historia social y cultural de Guadalajara, ed. Águeda Jiménez Pelayo (Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, 2007), 5–88; Laura Benítez Barba, “Raptadas tapatías: Mujeres fuera del estereotipo (1885–1933),” in Mujeres jaliscienses del siglo XIX: Cultura, religión y vida privada, ed. Lourdes Celina Vázquez Parada and Darío Armando Flores Soria (Guadalajara, Mexico: Editorial Universitaria, Universidad de Guadalajara, 2008), 279–313; Laura Benítez Barba, Por la palabra de matrimonio: El rapto en Guadalajara (1885–1933) (Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, 2014); and Laura Benítez Barba, “‘Pido a Dios perdón y a la justicia piedad’: Matrimonio y adulterio en la Audiencia de Guadalajara, 1800–1824,” in Mujeres insurgentes, mujeres rebeldes, 183–230.

(36.) Kathryn A. Sloan, Runaway Daughters: Seduction, Elopment, and Honor in Nineteenth-Century Mexico (Alburquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2008).

(37.) William E. French, The Heart in the Glass Jar: Love Letters, Bodies, and the Law in Mexico (Lincoln: Nebraska University Press, 2015).

(38.) Elisa Cárdenas Ayala, El derrumbe: Jalisco, microscosmos de la revolución mexicana, vol. 6 (Mexico City: Tiempo Memoria Tusquets Editores, 2010); and María Teresa Fernández Aceves, Mujeres en el cambio social en el siglo XX mexicano (Mexico City: CIESAS, Siglo Veintiuno Editores, 2014).

(39.) Kristina Boylan, “Mexican Catholic Women’s Activism, 1929–1940,” PhD Diss., University of Oxford, 2001; Kristina Boylan, “Género, fe y nación: El activismo de las mujeres católicas, 1917–1940,” in Género, poder y política en el México posrevolucionario, ed. Gabriela Cano, Mary Kay Vaughan, and Jocelyn Olcott (Mexico City: México Fondo de Cultura Económica, 2009), 309–346; Fernández Aceves, Mujeres en el cambio social en el siglo XX mexicano; Anayanci Fregoso Centeno, “Dolores Palomar Arias: 1898–1972; La familia y la religión en la construcción del sujeto,” in Siete historias de vida de. Mujeres jaliscienses del siglo XX, ed. Anayanci Fregoso Centeno (Guadalajara, Mexico: Editorial Universitaria, Universidad de Guadalajara, 2006), 40–65; Alma Dorantes, María Gracia Castillo Ramírez, and Julia Tuñón, Irene Robledo García (Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, Instituto de Antropología e Historia, 1995); and Agustín Vaca, “Devociones y trabajos de Margarita Gómez González,” in Siete historias de vida. Mujeres jaliscienses del siglo XX, ed. Anayanci Fregoso (Guadalajara, Mexico: Editorial Universitaria, Universidad de Guadalajara, 2006), 90–121.

(40.) Fernández Aceves, Mujeres en el cambio social en el siglo XX mexicano.

(41.) Rick Anthony López, Crafting Mexico: Intellectuals, Artisans, and the State after the Revolution (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2010); Adriana Zavala, Becoming Modern, Becoming Tradition: Women, Gender, and Representation in Mexican Art (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2010); Joanne Hershfield, Imagining la Chica Moderna Women, Nation, and Visual Culture in Mexico, 1917–1936 (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2008); Anne Rubenstein, Bad Language, Naked Ladies, and Other Threats to the Nation: A Political History of Comic Books in Mexico (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1998); and Fernández Aceves, Mujeres en el cambio social en el siglo XX mexicano.

(42.) Mary Kay Vaughan, “Cultural Approaches to Peasant Politics in the Mexican Revolution,” Hispanic American Historical Review 79.2 (1999): 300–301; and Mary Kay Vaughan, “Modernizing Patriarchy: State Policies, Rural Households, and Women in Mexico, 1930–1940,” in Hidden Histories of Gender and State in Latin America, ed. Maxine Molyneux and Elizabeth Dore (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2000), 194, 97, 200.

(43.) Agustín Vaca, Los silencios de la historia: Las Cristeras (Guadalajara, Mexico: El Colegio de Jalisco, 1998).

(44.) Vaca, Los silencios de la historia, 28.

(45.) Boylan, “Género, fe y nación: El activismo de las mujeres católicas, 1917–1940,” 346.

(46.) María Teresa Fernández Aceves, “Voto femenino,” in Derecho, economía, política, vol. 2 of Jalisco en el mundo contemporáneo: Aportaciones para una enciclopedia de la época, ed. Héctor Raúl Solís Gadea y Karla Alejandra Planter Pérez (Mexico City: Rayuela, Universidad de Guadalajara, COECYT-JAL, 2010), 695–710.

(47.) Ileana Cristina Gómez Ortega, “Regidoras y presidentas municipales en Jalisco, 1947–1970” (Guadalajara: CIESAS, 2010); and Ileana Cristina Gómez Ortega, Las primeras diputadas en Jalisco (1955–1965) (Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, 2013).

(48.) Zafra Oropeza, La mujer en la historia de Jalisco; and Carmen Castañeda García, “La Casa de Recogidas de la ciudad de Guadalajara,” Boletín del Archivo Histórico de Jalisco 2.2 (1978): 17–23.

(49.) Luisa Gabayet, “Intentos de asesinato en contra de María A. Díaz, importante sindicalista,” Revista Encuentro 4.3 (1987); Luisa Gabayet, Patricia García, Mercedes González de la Rocha, Silvia Lailson and Agustín Escobar, eds., Mujer y sociedad: Salario, hogar y acción social en el occidente de México (Guadalajara, Mexico: El Colegio de Jalisco, CIESAS, 1988); Rosa Rojas and María Rodríguez Batista, La condición de la mujer en Jalisco (Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, 1994); Silvia Lailson, “La mujer y el proceso de industrialización: su impacto y consecuencias” (Zamora: El Colegio de Michoacán, 1987); Silvia Lailson, “El trabajo y las organizaciones laborales de mujeres en Jalisco: 1920–1940,” Revista Encuentro 4.3 (1987); Cristina Padilla Dieste, “Marginados o asalariados: El trabajo domiciliar de maquila en una colonia popular” (Mexico City: Universidad Iberoamericana, 1978); Mercedes González de la Rocha, Los recursos de la pobreza: Familias de bajos ingresos de Guadalajara (Mexico City: CIESAS, El Colegio de Jalisco, 1986); and Lucía Mantilla, La mujer jalisciense: Clase, género y generación, 1st ed. (Guadalajara, Mexico: Universidad de Guadalajara, 1991).

(50.) Vázquez Parada and Flores Soria, eds., Mujeres jaliscienses del siglo XIX; Centeno, ed., Siete historias de vida de. Mujeres jaliscienses del siglo XX; and Vaca, Los silencios de la historia: Las Cristeras.

(51.) Dawn Keremetsis, “La industria de empaques y sus trabajadoras: 1910–1940,” Encuentro 2.1 (1984): 57–63; and Dawn Keremetsis, “La doble jornada de la mujer en Guadalajara, 1910–1940,” Encuentro 1 (1984): 41–64.

(52.) Castañeda García, Violación, estupro y sexualidad; and Castañeda García, “La Casa de Recogidas de la ciudad de Guadalajara.”

(53.) Fernanda Núñez Becerra and Rosa María Spinoso Archocha, eds., Mujeres en Veracruz: Fragmentos de una historia (Xalapa, Mexico: Gobierno del Estado de Veracruz, 2008, 2010, 2013).

(54.) Dorantes, Ramírez, and Tuñón, Irene Robledo García; María Gracia Castillo Ramírez, Alma Dorantes González, and Julia Tuñón Pablos, La noble tarea de educar: Recuerdos y vivencias de una maestra jalisciense (Mexico City: Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia, Departemento de Investigaciones Históricas, 2000); Sonia Ibarra Ibarra, Educadores jaliscienses, (Zapopan, Mexico: El Colegio de Jalisco, SEP-Educación Jalisco, 1994); Hildelisa Anguiano and Agustín Vaca, Querer es poder: Hildelisa Anguiano platica con Agustín Vaca (Zapopan, Mexico: El Colegio de Jalisco, 2000); María Antonia Castillo de la Cueva and Agustín Vaca, Hasta el cuello en la cristería: Antonia Castillo platica con Agustín Vaca (Zapopan, Mexico: El Colegio de Jalisco, INAH, 2003); Sonia Ibarra Ibarra, ed., La educación preescolar en Jalisco: Historias, relatos y vivencias (Zapopan, Mexico: El Colegio de Jalisco, 2007); and Anayanci Fregoso Centeno, Maternidad y niñez en el Hospicio Cabañas: Guadalajara, 1920–1940 (Guadalajara, Mexico: Editorial Universitaria de la Universidad de Guadalajara, El Colegio de Jalisco, 2011).

(55.) Guzmán Pérez, “Mujeres de amor y de guerra: Roles femeninos en la Independencia de México,” 39.

(56.) Chassen-López, “Guerra, nación y género.”

(57.) Carmen Castañeda García, “Los archivos de Guadalajara,” Historia Mexicana 25.1 (1975): 143–162.

(58.) For a broader discussion of this guide, see the Latin American Network Information Center of the University of Texas.

(59.) See the review Desacatos, no. 26, January–April 2008.