A History of Boxing in Mexico: Masculinity, Modernity, and Nationalism by Stephen D. Allen (review)

Mexico produced some of the best boxers in the world, but we know little about the early prizefighters that paved the way for Julio César Chávez, the country’s most famous boxer. Thankfully, we now have a book that fills this gap. A History of Boxing in Mexico is more than a narrative history of Mexican boxing, it is an excellent analysis of how boxing shaped notions of masculinity, nationalism, and modernity. With the exception of the first chapter that situates boxing within the rise of Mexican sports culture, each chapter follows the life and career of one professional boxer, beginning with Rodolfo Casanova, continuing with Raúl Macias, Vicente Saldívar, Rubén Olivares and concluding with José Nápoles.

Mexican sporting history has been stuck on the 1986 Olympic Games in Mexico City, but many forget that Mexico won its first Olympic medal in boxing at the 1932 Olympic Games in Los Angeles. Still, boxing has received little attention from Mexican historians. The late Joseph Arbena observed long ago the important role of sports in the development of Mexican nationalism (Arbena, 1991). By mining archival collections in California and Mexico City (including the World Boxing Council archives), daily sports newspapers, and interviews of former boxers, Allen reveals how Mexican boxers became a symbol of national pride on both sides of the border. It is Allen’s gender and transnational analysis of Mexican boxing, however, that makes this book stand out. Mexican prizefighters performed a rough masculine identity in their public display of aggression and strength. Outside the ring, this masculine behavior continued when prizefighters engaged in excessive alcohol drinking, heterosexual relations with multiple women, and other vices.

In Chapter 2, Allen discusses the career of Rodolfo Casanova, who exemplified such a life as he rose from poverty to become a boxing hero during “Mexico’s First Golden Age of Mexican Boxing” in the 1930s (43). Casanova was nicknamed “El Chango” because of his “mongoloid face of an Indian” (69) and suffered from alcohol abuse that ultimately cost him his life. Later, Casanova’s life inspired the 1945 movie Campeón sin Corona that, according to Allen, “served as a warning about the importance of living a disciplined lifestyle in this rapidly changing society” (72).

In Chapter 3, Allen compares Casanova’s aggressive masculinity with the “respectable masculinity” of Raúl “El Ratón” Macías who learned to fight in the streets and gyms of the working-class neighborhood of Tepito, known for producing world-class boxers (75). According to Allen, Macías displayed scientific intelligence and self-discipline during matches, while outside the ring he attended mass with his family and practiced a “clean lifestyle” that made him popular with television audiences, businesses and government officials during the 1950s (103). He leveraged his celebrity status to obtain more government resources for his Tepito neighborhood and operate successful businesses. In Chapter 4, Allen turns to Vicente Saldívar, who, unlike Macías, was unpopular with fans during the 1960s because of his “soft masculinity” and close association with Mexican political elites (105). Although Saldívar was a “Good Mexican” for his “clean living,” strong Catholic faith, and defense of four world featherweight titles, he still was not “idol material” (125). His technical and calculating style of boxing combined with his cold personality and domesticated life made him more effeminate and a stark contrast to the fight-to-the-end style of Mexican boxing (126). Fans even questioned Saldívar’s loyalty to Mexico for the refusal to defend his world championship title and not mentoring younger boxers (130).

As Allen discusses in Chapter 5, the sexual revolution and changing gender norms during the 1970s gave rise to the “hippie” lifestyle of Rubén Olivares, who became a four-time world champion (135). Olivares embraced an alternative masculine identity that allowed him to express a wider range of emotions and alternate views...