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Facundo Bernal López (1883-1962)

Gabriel Trujillo Muñoz

Facundo Bernal is a man from the North. A son of Sonora, he was forced to leave his native state, and even his country, in order to escape political violence and upheaval. But Don Facundo, as his colleagues in the press would call him, was always a Sonoran at heart. He was born on October 16, 1883, in Hermosillo, the first son of Facundo Bernal Sr. and Luisa López de Bernal. His father worked for the state government, and the family’s economic situation was precarious, like that of many in Sonora in the years before the Revolution. Facundo Jr. received a secular fourth grade education from the Colegio Sonora, a public school. After the early death of Facundo Sr., the son took a government post no less dreary and miserable that the one his father had occupied. Yet he continued to educate himself with the help of his cultured mother, who ensured that no matter how difficult life was at the Bernal household, there was never a lack of books. Facundo read the poets of the Golden Age of Spanish literature — Garcilaso de la Vega, Francisco de Quevedo, Luis de Góngora, and Lope de Vega — as well as the Romantics and the Latin American Modernistas, especially Rubén Darío, Gutiérrez Nájera, and Amado Nervo. This bookishness was not uncommon in Hermosillo, which was home to small but busy communities of foreign-born residents — French, North American, and English — brought to the region by the politic ups and downs of Maximilian’s empire, as well as Don Porfirio Díaz’s campaign for foreign investment. The town was close to the port of Guaymas, and was a stop on the new railroad, which brought not only raw materials, but also books, newspapers, and magazines from the interior of the country and from abroad.

This all contributed to a vibrant cultural atmosphere. Presiding over it were Manuel Campillo and Rodolfo Campodonico (1866-1926), who were troubadours of popular verse rather than champions of Latin American Modernismo, and clearly influenced Facundo’s poetic sensibility. And there was never a lack of political disputes in the town, nor a shortage of literary salons, dances, and bohemian gatherings replete with musicians and poets improvising, mano a mano, songs and poems celebrating their respective sweethearts. It’s no surprise, then, that Facundo — like his younger brother Francisco, born on October 4, 1896 — formed closer friendships with troubadours and musicians like Chito Peralta and Campodonico than they did with writers. Culture back then meant political rallies, dances, and block parties. Naturally, it found written expression most readily in journalism.

Facundo soon became an important voice in the Sonoran press, which itself became a prime mover behind the Revolution. He published teasingly erotic romantic sonnets along with articles and sarcastic verses targeting the arbitrary decisions of politicians and the greed of the mercantile class. It’s important to note that, in Sonoran society in those days, a writer was no better than any of the other locals, serving as something like a social worker, a promoter of interpersonal relationships, and an unofficial spokesperson for the community. Facundo’s writing possessed social utility, and had direct economic benefits for him personally. Consider this early poem, a parody of Manuel Acuña’s suicidal “Nocturno a Rosario,” which Facundo wrote to protest a promotion to Manager-Collector granted to the Copyist-Correspondent of Sonora’s General Treasury Office:

So. I must

inform the treasurer,

inform him that my

sad situation overwhelms me,

for I have been only

a Manager-Collector

for three whole years;

so profoundly do I suffer,

so profoundly do I wait

for them to regale me

with a pen set, and not a broom.

I would beg that they recall

how many years past

I did request the post

which today I learned was filled;

let them know

these hopes of mine

have been dashed;

and my joys have been drained

because of that yearned-for post;

let them know

that from my precipice

the future blackens deeply.

At night, when I ponder,

(with my soul thrashing),

how others so easily do find

their station rising,

and their wages plentiful,

yet they work hardly at all,

it does spur me to ponder matters,

and in the end, my luck depleted,

I recall that another day

slaving behind the broom awaits me.

I grasp how that job

never shall be mine,

never shall I earn

those 80 pesos;

however, I do persist,

and in promotions I believe;

today cruel fate

may show me his black shoulder,

yet instead of being less trustful,

I am all the more hopeful.

At times I think of flinging

my eternal “I quit”

in the faces of the cursed

feather duster and perfidious broom!

And yet if all is in vain,

if I have no exit hence,

if the bill collectors

finish me off,

what else do they ask

that I do in such a circumstance?

Here we see an account of Facundo’s economic situation, which was that of all of his family, as well as the majority of the incipient middle class in Sonora. That class got by on stoic hope — a feature of Northern Mexico’s Protestant-like ethic, which insisted that hard work would eventually lead to material results. This poem bears proof of Facundo’s poetic skill and sense of humor, his empathy for his fellow citizens, and his tendency to use — and ironize — his own life experiences as subject matter. Thanks to this poem, Facundo obtained his own promotion:

And I who so attempted

to earn a decent wage,

then sport a good suit

and lavish gifts on my sweetheart,

even just by saving what “Smith” charges

for fees, well… I could

pay what’s needed to those

necessary, despite a month

of being unemployed…

How sweet it would be

to live while preying

on a juicier paycheck;

The English pleased,

I, always, satisfied,

without seeking their bosses,

saying, in spite,

I have only a few days left,

for the love of the God.

Just realize how exquisite

these brief hours of life prove,

how beautiful proves existence

with a job like that,

and I dreamed of such

“oh, deceitful fate,” and,

while maddened, I would think

(my soul trembling),

I would think of making myself old,

here, just for now.

Lord knows

that was my most splendid dream,

my glowing hope,

my bliss and pleasure;

God well knows it was not in vain

that I pinned my efforts

(I say this although they

smash my soul with a log)

on how to live bare-bones

just like I did yesterday.

That was my hope…

Oh, Seductive Open Positions,

scant help

exists between you two;

Adieu

My Benefactors,

Feather Duster and Shower Stall, and My Broom: Adieu.

Facundo’s readiness to address the social life of his community — principally that of Hermosillo — is also characteristic of his poetry. His poems do not keep a safe distance from popular culture; instead, they are almanacs of that culture. Within them, one encounters scandalous gossip, prejudices, and the major and minor struggles of the population residing in northern Mexico. Facundo’s poetry functions as a chronicle documenting the social transformations of his time, written from the perspective of a fellow citizen who relies on humor as a defense against disaster and injustice.

A poem like the “Ice Skaters,” written in 1912, perfectly captures Facundo’s capacity to blend genuine sentiment with irony. It recounts events that would regularly take place on Sundays in the corridors of the Colegio Sonora, where young couples would gather to ice skate and dance. The piece reads like a less heroic version of Rubén Darío’s “Marcha triunfal” (1905), yet it brims with the same optimism and joy at the sight of a young northern woman dancing:

With their hickish squires

the Queens of the Fiesta

parade down the corridors…

The chords of the orchestra resound

as they embark on the sweetest and slowest waltz;

they come to the dance; and to me

they seem to be exquisite pullets,

fresh rose petals shivering,

ruffled by the wind.

The squires swirl

while dancing

and utter amorous phrases,

glistening things

like set jewels,

diamonds and sapphires;

and their gazes are enveloped

in the honey of sighs,

and in the light of hope.

While a couple passes by me,

a voice reaches my ear,

an aching voice

moaning about

absence and oblivion.

Sweet Argentine voices,

fresh laughter of sopranos;

a stirring of colors

in the silk of skirt and bodice;

and a tear that rolls

down the snow-and-rose-colored mien

of a gorgeous damsel

who has buried her love.

When the Revolution of Francisco I. Madero (1873-1913) brought an end to the reign of the dictator Don Porfirio Díaz (1830-1915) in 1910, dances and ice skating became things of the past for most Mexicans, but life in Sonora remained more or less unchanged until 1913. Still, the more progressive sectors of Sonoran society viewed Madero’s government, though not Madero himself, as less revolutionary then they had hoped for, and friendlier to those who still supported Porfirio Díaz than to those who had fought for a democratic regime. That disillusionment was further increased by the Orozco rebellion, which erupted in Chihuahua and reached Sonora by the middle of 1912 as the war against the Yaquis — the cause of, or excuse for, countless atrocities. Add to that the serious problems plaguing the regime of José María Maytorena (1867-1948), then Governor of Sonora, with various municipalities seeking ever greater autonomy.

At the age of 30, Facundo Bernal was one of the most combative journalists in Mexico. He published his own newspaper, Rey Momo, a name taken from the character in carnivals who represented happiness and festivity. It was in this newspaper that, in 1913, Facundo baptized Rosendo Rosado, then Secretary of the Sonoran Government, as “Cat with Neck,” a nickname that would hound the politico until the end of his life, and which may have brought about Facundo’s forced exile. By the end of 1912, as a result of his writings against Maytorena, he was a lodger in the notorious prison of Sonora. A photograph from January 1913 depicts Facundo among other political prisoners and guards. This photograph shows a group of dashing gentlemen, in a state of perfect health, gathered together for some civilized purpose. The truth, of course, was quite different. An attempt was made on Facundo’s life by the prison guards. He only avoided death because one of the guards, who held his verse in high esteem, gave him advance warning. Facundo’s daughter, Angelina Bernal, tells the story:

Even while in jail, he continued to write articles against the government. His own mother, Doña Luisa López, would take them out from beneath the dirty dishes in the basket in which she used to deliver his meals. That’s why they decided to kill him, because even though he was imprisoned, they couldn’t quiet him. But one of the guards advised him of their plans. He told him that they were going to shoot him from a position on the roof. Facundo moved the cot on which he slept to another side of the cell. And that night, just like the guard said, someone fired some rounds at the spot where he usually slept.

By February 1913, the political situation in Mexico was on the verge of disaster; a decade of tragedies, the assassinations of Madero and his Vice President, José María Pino Suárez (1869-1913), the regime of Victoriano Huerta (1850-1916) and his stuffed shirts, the armed insurrection in Coahuila led by Venustiano Carranza (1859-1920), and, just a short while later, a direct confrontation between the main political figures presiding over Sonora. Moderates begged for armed help and power against the Huerta uprising. Indignation brimmed over in every “pueblo” and “ranchería.” The Sonorans, who never resisted in using their own weapons, blocked road crossings, occupied government buildings, and claimed public and private properties as their own. Faced with chaos, Maytorena asked for a license from the local congress, but the congress instead named Ignacio L. Persqueira as Governor on February 25. A few days later, during the first days of March, Facundo left the Sonora prison — not to live in freedom, but to leave the state at once, under threat of further imprisonment if he were apprehended. For Facundo, abandoning his beloved Hermosillo was immensely painful. But there was no other option. And the only road to freedom led him north, far from the great battles and privations of the Mexican Revolution.

One of Facundo’s brothers, Pedro, was already living in Los Angeles, California, and so the Bernal family could count on stable, if crowded, living quarters. Neither Facundo’s mother nor his other siblings — Ricardo, Francisco, Enriqueta, and Carmelita — wished to remain in Hermosillo. If Facundo were to set off, so would the entire Bernal clan. This hasty departure was traumatic for all of them. Half a century later, Fransciso described how that radical change altered their lives forever: “School had recently been cancelled, and then unforeseen political circumstances prevented me from taking advantage of a scholarship and continuing my studies at the university in Mexico City, as had some of my high school companions, like Juan de Dios Bojórquez and Francisco Terminel, who both found work in the government; the first one became the General Secretary and the second one led the cabinet for agriculture under Plutarco Elías Calles.”11 The destiny awaiting Facundo and Francisco would be less powerful, but more humane. In March 1913 the Bernals took the road towards the city of Los Angeles, which was by then already the playground of gangsters and dazzling movie stars.

From Los Angeles to Mexicali

That same March, after a stop in Tucson, Arizona, the Bernals reached Los Angeles. They were among the many Mexicans crossing the border each day to reach American soil. The primary motive for this was the Revolution’s violence: forced conscription, firing squads, looting, and bombings. Those who had no economic means or family on “the other side” ended up in the refugee camps that the United States government set up to control the flow of immigrants. Those who could rely on funds or personal contacts had no problems reaching their destinations. Such was the luck of the Bernal family.

At the time of Facundo’s and Francisco’s arrival, Los Angeles confined the Mexican minority population to barrios located east of the Los Angeles River, despite the community’s growing influence on the city’s economy and social life. The Bernal family permanently settled in the house of Pedro, a humble clothing merchant. Facundo soon found employment in a tomato cannery, but he wasn’t cut out for the daily grind; sensing his impending failure as a worker, he decided to help his brother with his business instead. Soon, however, he found an even more suitable occupation, becoming a stringer for the most important Spanish-language newspapers of the time, such as El Eco de México, La Prensa, and El Heraldo de México.

Facundo’s stay in Los Angeles lasted from 1913 to 1917. As Pedro’s clothing business provided more dividends, he asked his brothers to establish a similar storefront in Mexicali — a first step toward sending the entire family back to Mexico. Mexicali, which had been founded in 1903, was a perfect choice for this plan: it was a border town from which one could reach Los Angeles in a few hours by train or car, and although it had been declared the capital of the Northern District of Baja California in 1915, it was peaceful, far from the upheavals taking place in the rest of the Mexican Republic. Another attractive feature was it geographic proximity to Sonora, not to mention their similar climate and desert landscapes, which the Bernals missed a great deal. Another compelling factor was that business competition was scarce, and the border market demanded clothing for the city’s growing population.

Pedro, who took on all the financial risk for this venture, decided that Facundo and Francisco would run the new business. Before leaving, Facundo married Rosaura Metzler, a young woman from Sonora who was living in Los Angeles. Her bloodline was profoundly mestizaje: Yaquis, Spanish, and German. Immediately after their marriage, Facundo and Rosaura, accompanied by Pedro and Francisco, took the train to the border. The entire family gathered on the platform to say farewell and wish them luck. Although they did not suspect this, their days of wandering were coming to an end.

Pedro and Facundo arrived at their destination on November 27, 1917. Mexicali would remain their place of residence for their rest of their lives. The business they started — the first of a long chain of clothing outlets, shoe stores, and suit emporiums — was called “Trajes a la Medida,” and located next to Hotel del Norte, just south of the international border and in the very commercial heart of Mexicali. This was a bonanza period in the valley of Mexicali, but it was fleeting. The coming years would see the collapse of the cotton market, the principal regional crop; social tension between Chinese immigrants and Mexican residents; the lamentable practices of the Colorado River Land Company, the American corporation that essentially owned the valley; as well as political upheaval under the rule of General Esteban Cantú (1881-1966), whose regime in Baja was terminated in 1920.

But even with the economic setbacks and political troubles, the 1920s saw Mexicali grow and expand. Facundo and Rosaura contributed to these changes by having five daughters, all of them proud Mexicalenses: Obdulia, Ofelia, Angelina, Estela, and Margarita. Once the businesses were consolidated, Pedro and Ricardo kept them running, while Facundo returned to journalism and literature, especially after 1923, with the arrival of General Abelardo L. Rodríguez (1889-1967) as the Governor of the Northern District. Both Facundo and the General were of Sonoran origin, and they also shared the same pragmatic and mercantile spirit.

Mexicali was a young city when the Bernal brothers settled there. Its newspaper tradition was even younger: two years prior to their arrival, the city had seen the founding of its first newspaper, El Noticiero del Distrito, which was actually printed in the nearby city of Imperial, California. The first true native newspaper was La Vanguardia, which first appeared in 1917. General Cantú himself was its owner. Ever since, journalism in Baja California has been the tool of those in power. That being said, there was never a lack of opposing voices in the press, nor a dearth of newspapers critical of mainstream politics.