MEXICO LETTER:Thousands gathered in the capital to see the president - and his rival - mark the occasion, writes Hugh Collins
EVERY YEAR, thousands gather in the Zócalo, Mexico city's colossal main square, to commemorate the day in 1810 when Miguel Hidalgo rang the church bell to gather the villagers and screamed about the injustice of Spanish rule.
This year, the city outdid itself. There was a giant bell made of light bulbs, the cathedral was lit up in Mexico's national colours of green, red and white, and a huge picture of Hidalgo's face smiled benevolently at the crowds who had braved the drizzle to watch Mexican president Felipe Calderón ring a bell and yell "Viva Mexico!"
But not everybody was there to celebrate.
Opposite the balcony where Calderón was due to let out his holler - the grito - a huge stage was set up. A woman led the crowd in chants of "What country are you from, you weasel Calderón?" Doing their best to drown out the other source of noise - a long-haired pop star cranking out cheesy songs - the alternative stage denounced Calderón's government, while defeated presidential candidate Andrés Manuel López Obrador waited to make the alternative grito of independence.
Much has changed since Calderón last screamed to the nation. He came into power with a wafer-thin margin over López Obrador, but swiftly outmanoeuvred his opponent by striking up an alliance with an opposition party that left López Obrador stranded.
A short, bald man with an air of relaxed energy, Calderón transformed his seeming lack of charisma into stubborn pragmatism, promising money and security to Mexicans living in poverty and fear. He seemed to be the president who would get things done.
It didn't go according to plan. First, the drug-trafficking gangs who make billions shipping cocaine and marijuana to the US decided that, if Calderón wanted war, they'd give him slaughter.
Last Friday, 24 people were found shot in the head in a park near Mexico City, bringing the death toll so far this year to more than 3,000.
Then came the wave of kidnappings that brought Mexico's security problems from the border slums to the posh neighbourhoods of Mexico City.
Calderón did deliver a road- building scheme to boost the economy - just in time to watch exports to the US jump off a cliff.
"He's incompetent," said Antonio Arthur Diaz (54), a businessman from Tijuana who was watching the celebrations. "He promised us jobs, but instead huge numbers are leaving for the United States."
Once López Obrador had given his speech, calling for resignations and more money for everyone, the mood became festive. The Zócalo began to resemble a puddle, but children still ran around spraying each other with foam and throwing green, white and red confetti.
When the police opened up the security barricade, thousands ran into the space underneath Calderón's balcony to get the best view of the president.
He emerged on time, as always. Without a word he leapt forward and rang the bell vigorously, despite having fractured his shoulder falling off his mountain bike a few weeks ago. The crowd went wild with patriotic fervour.
After waving the flag for a few moments, Calderón launched into the grito - a whole list of "vivas", celebrating the nation and its revolutionary heroes.
When Calderón reached the climax of "Viva Mexico!", the Zócalo exploded.
Confetti was blasted into the sky, flags waved and the Zócalo was treated to fireworks impressive enough to terrify the kids who had been brought along but were too young to understand what was happening.
As the pyrotechnics continued, Calderón and his wife stood placidly on the balcony. After a few minutes, the Zócalo was a cloud of smoke and Calderón - who, unlike López Obrador, had not set up a big screen to project himself to the masses - was obscured. The flags waving from the windows of the national palace were visible, but the president was not.
Those at the edge of the crowd gathered up the kids and made a break for the public transport. The rain had cleared, but nobody fancied spending all night in the city centre.
What Calderón thought as he retreated into the depths of the palace is a mystery.
Perhaps he heard the news that bombs had gone off at Independence Day celebrations in the state of Michoacán, southwest of Mexico city, killing eight. Or that investors were dropping the Mexican peso, spooked by the banking woes in the US.
"I'm here because I'm a Mexican," said Pedro Pega (68), a teacher from Monterrey, an industrial city near the Texas border. "All I want is a president who cares about the country. Nothing else matters."
Calderón may hope everyone will be so forgiving.