Matt Yglesias makes an argument that's been strangely absent from mainstream historical discussion: the Second Mexican Empire's collapse wasn't inevitable. Drawing on the 1860s conflict between Juárez, French intervention, and Habsburg leadership, he builds a case that Mexico's liberal constitutional future might have emerged differently — if three great powers had played their cards right.
The Odd Twist in Mexican History
The Second Mexican Empire represents one of the most curious episodes in 19th-century international politics. When conservative Mexican factions invited French forces to intervene militarily, they expected France to install a regime aligned with their interests. Instead, Napoleon III installed Habsburg Prince Maximilian as emperor — and Maximilian turned out to have surprisingly liberal views.
He championed freedom of religion, confirmed the legitimacy of previous sales of church property, and even attempted to pardon Juárez and bring him into the political system. The feeling among Mexican conservatives was that this new regime would do all the stuff they wanted — but the emperor actually held fairly progressive positions.
Juárez refused every offer of reconciliation, led a rebel movement, and continued to be recognized as the legitimate president of Mexico by the United States government. The American Civil War was happening at the time, so American support for Juárez was not very effectual. But after the Confederate surrender, the United States turned its attention more forcefully to the Mexico situation.
French ruler Napoleon III was a pretty bad decision-maker and they should have just eaten the losses on the loans and not bothered with all of this.
The Three Perspectives
From the American perspective, this was basically a Monroe Doctrine issue — the United States didn't want a France-aligned regime on its borders. From the French perspective, this was fundamentally a debt collection issue; they didn't want Juárez to get away with repudiating loans owed to France, Spain, and Britain. And from the Mexican perspective, this was an ideological struggle between liberals and conservatives — but one in which the ostensible head of the conservative faction was actually pretty liberal.
The French were defeated, and the empire collapsed. But Yglesias suggests there might have been a path toward stability that nobody explored: what if instead of backing Juárez so forcefully, the United States had negotiated the Monroe Doctrine point with France more directly? Could there have been a deal where French troops leave but in exchange the United States stops backing Juárez and pushes him to accept a pardon from Maximilian?
A Counterargument Worth Considering
Critics might note that this alternative history overlooks how deeply entrenched the liberal-conservative divide had become in Mexican politics. Juárez wasn't just fighting for democratic principles — he was fighting for the very legitimacy of Mexico's constitutional order against conservative attempts to restore monarchist rule. Even if Maximilian had pardoned him, it's unlikely Juárez would have accepted a position subordinate to a Habsburg emperor. The ideological conflict ran deeper than any single compromise could resolve.
Bottom Line
Yglesias's strongest insight is that three great powers — the United States, France, and Mexico itself — all miscalculated their interests in this conflict. His biggest vulnerability is strategic: he admits the alternative scenario sounds plausible but provides little evidence for how Juárez would have accepted any pardon from an emperor he already refused. The most interesting question remains unanswered — what does it take to stabilize a liberal order when nobody trusts the other side?