By David Eidell 12/2009
If you should visit an internet chat room or forum dealing with RV’ing in Mexico one of the hot-button topics is stability and security – on one side of the issue are the alarmists, on the extreme polar opposite are the “Who? What? Where?” individuals that claim that the problem is overblown. The latter have a valid point – RV’ers seldom encounter hard evidence while traveling in Mexico that anything is amiss. But read the messages carefully – see if you can detect the ogre of stereotype and even racism.
How did Mexico find itself the position that it is today? Are the country and its people utterly corrupt with no help of salvation? Why are “they” so different from us? What’s wrong? I penned some ideas and opinions that I have gained over the years and is in no small part due to the wisdom that is often granted we elders of society. This article is not intended to be a scholarly work but rather a mercifully short exposition of my take on our neighbors.
Like it or not all stereotypes are based (sometimes extremely vaguely) on at least one kernel of truth. For instance schoolyard taunting a classic use of stereotyping is a negative exaggeration of a perceived defect like being overweight, or having protruding front teeth or a different sounding name. For centuries Mexico was almost impossible to govern and has been noted many times in history tomes – a destabilizing triad of corrupt government, exploitive landowners and rebellious common people led to a period of hundreds of years of strife – not to be outdone the Catholic Church led its own agenda with advancement of self-interest aggrandizement. The bottom line was and still is that discord brought about a tidal wave of cynicism: There is no more potent way to institute deprecation, loss of confidence, and paranoia in a society than inducing a climate of cynicism.
“We don’t need no stinking badges” is a perfect example of this. So is a tawdry image of the city of Tijuana. The first is actually a product of the second – Tijuana became about in the first third of the twentieth century, actually grew from a tiny village to a rip-roaring sin city where Americans could go for whisky, women, and cheap upholstery for their old car. I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area and throughout my childhood I heard rumors, snide remarks and disdain for the word Tijuana (which was pronounced incorrectly as (tee-ah-WAN-nah). Just saying the name brought up images of pornographic night clubs where age was no barrier to drink and a place where a person could go for a good time including (gasp) marijuana. Urban legends about upholstery shops stuffing car seats with horse manure, and cops shaking down drunken tourists abounded. There was no law in Tijuana, no morals it seemed, and everything and everybody was sleazy including the cops – especially the cops. The city wasn’t alone – Juarez, across from El Paso, indeed just about every border town became utterly corrupted by an influx of hard cash from tourists who seemingly would pay anything for anything connected to vice and sleaze.
Now not only the Mexicans were cynical, but their northern neighbors as well. “You will not go to Tijuana!” my parents declared after I got my first car and driver license. Of course, such admonitions brought about an insatiable curiosity that could only be satisfied by going there and experiencing “All The Sleaze” for myself of course along with a group of buddies. In my youth my idea of girlfriend nirvana was to find a nubile blond haired, blue eyed surfer girl so when our destination was reached at last I found brown more than slightly overweight “nude dancers” to be almost boring and the beer was just as disagreeable to me as American beer. I came away disappointed in the tawdry paradise part, but my friends found it curious that I was drawn to out of the way restaurants, mariachi musicians, and the parts of Tijuana considered to be boring. I was teased and kidded all the way home – somehow I came away sad at what was happening to an otherwise friendly and decent folk. The degradation really struck me. Why were my buddies fixated on stuff that was negative? Didn’t they see the ordinary people who smiled and waved? I wonder if they even remember our fruitless search for the legendary Disc Jockey “Wolf Man Jack”. We got to Rosarito all right couldn’t help but see the towering antenna of the “One Million Watt” radio station with the call sign XERB. We found out that the wolf man stayed in Hollywood and periodically a truck would deliver a load of tape recordings to be played right at the transmitter.
“The Chicken Or The Egg Syndrome” became endemic with Mexican law enforcement. On one hand police, including the federal police grew up utterly corrupt – even top military commanders were subject to the bribe. The population reacted with “As long as they are going to rob us anyway we won’t pay them anything”. This anomaly survives to this day – a climate of suspicion takes decades even perhaps a century to fade away. One popular Mexican joke is the one about a citizen who finds his wallet missing in the midst of a crowd “I’ve been robbed!” he cries “Shhh!” came a whispered caution “You’ll bring the police”.
The country matured under a mantle of mistrust: The wealthy suspected that commoners were out to get them so they paid a pittance for wages. The commoners became resentful not only because they earned starvation wages but were treated like dirt. Rich Mexicans were fearful of few things other than having foreigners invade their country yet again. The gringos had ripped off the state of Texas, robbed Mexico of its rightful ownership to mountains of gold in California and Mexico meekly yielded up a huge percentage of the country in the Gadsden Purchase. Can you recall our Marine Corps hymn? Do you remember the first stanza? Personally I feel other “battles” fought by the marines is more dignified and worthy of the hymn than glorifying a rout of a 4th rate military defense guard. You can bet your bottom dollar that most Mexicans are acutely aware of the Marine Corps hymn lyrics. It is part of the persona given the stereotype of the typical gringo. Then there was ultimate degradation, the dictator Porfirio Diaz took power in the late 19th century and sold off most of the country to the highest foreign bidder.
Outrages followed insults: Since the Mexican revolution of 1917 the six-year-term Mexican presidency was passed along “por dedo”, meaning the sitting president appointed his successor. The office of president was rightfully considered by the Mexican public as a license to steal and most office holders departed at the end of their six-year term rich beyond their wildest dreams. Business in “Mexico” the capitol involved politicians swarming at the financial trough grunting and jostling for their fair cut. There were exceptions of course but to be a politician in Mexico was (and still is), a clear admittance of that you are on the take. There had to be a final straw and one of the latter day presidents Carlos Salinas de Gotari brought a curious mixture of moral arrogance, hope, iron handed justice, and a huge measure of conceit to the presidency. On one hand were pronouncements and edicts of ending corruption throughout government. The institution of a public assistance program called “Solidarity”. Tireless efforts brought international investors and a promise of economic salvation with NAFTA. The world bank praised Salinas de Gotari and his cadre of technocrats. On January 1, 1995 a Marxist led band of indigenous “soldiers” rebelled in the state of Chiapas, and it shook the country to the core. It wasn’t a thought that a ragtag band of the rebellious could take over the country – it was much worse than that; Mexico’s problems went much deeper than a lack of economic modernization and industry – somehow the poor had been forgotten. An image long-treasured in the hearts of all Mexicans, the one of social justice being brought about by “La Revolucion” was in peril. Most knew the image to be hollow but it was a foundation even a cornerstone of hope and salvation especially to the poor. Mexico has always been famous for its armed rebels that hide in the wilderness and continue their own part to “La Revolucion”. Such rebellion was not encouraged or tolerated but rather it was understood by the Mexican public – revolucion was and is inextricably tied to a sense of social justice in Mexico. But one of the most important points to remember about the Mexicans is that they abhor and fear the very idea of anarchy and lawlessness. Like it or not, most of the Mexicans did not “unsupport” the tyrannical rule of the dominant political party for the last seventy years. To veer away from any path that was known was to invite socio-economic disaster which of course meant losing what little they had gained. The dominant political party assumed and continued its rule legally.
Salinas de Gotari was widely regarded in the early and mid-1990’s as “The Savior of Mexico”. The peso was very strong, indeed appearing to be one of the most stable currencies in the world. The Zapatista rebellion rocked the Salinas administration, and then came the assassination of a top political figurehead – and finally the archbishop of Guadalajara was boldly gunned down. Doubt re-emerged, a new appointed president took office and immediately faced a financial nightmare – flighty international investors had panicked and were fleeing over the Zapatista rebellion and subsequent violence and seeming political instability. Rich Mexicans had quietly drained their bank accounts during the summer of 1994 and sent their pesos to Europe and the USA. All the while the central bank was declaring “We Have Sixty Billion Dollars In Financial Reserves”. It turned out to be a cruel hoax – faced with imminent collapse of the financial system the new president much to the credit of his integrity and honesty, announced that there was going to be a devaluation of the Mexican Peso. Banks and financial institutions have never had morals – and industry no matter what the nationality are not moral guideon’s as well. A panic ensued and the result was ruefully labeled by the Mexicans as “The Christmas Surprise”. The ex-president railed against Ernesto Zedillo Ponce de Leon – “Everyone Knows To Never Ever Announce In Advance A Devaluation”. Mexicans are if nothing else well seasoned in dealing with crippling devaluation: For decades, the Mexican peso had held steady at an exchange rate of 12.49 to one American Dollar. Then a combination of insatiable greed and a rising awareness of a runaway increase in population and subsequent economic unrest led to pork barrel government spending which lead to the 1972 peso devaluation – soon the currency was trading at 22 against one American Dollar. The battle for the hog trough was on and discoveries of crude oil in the Gulf of Mexico lead to more pork, more graft and corruption and even worse devaluations and inflation. From 12.49 to 1 the peso fell to three thousand one hundred to one dollar, in the late eighties. Inflation was so bad that prices were raised every day or two and the public suffered great hardship which fueled even greater cynicism. Carlos Salinas de Gotari made a preemptive symbolic gesture when three zeros were struck from the currency and the “New Pesos” currency was introduced in 1992 but undid all the good when the shenanigans of his administration came to light after he had fled the country. Can you imagine that today’s US dollar would have purchased twelve thousand old pesos? In thirty five years the currency has devalued to 1/000th of its former worth.
Ernesto Zedillo faced a daunting uphill battle. Salinas de Gotari had fled to the United States then to Ireland, and while Mexicans howled for his blood. Salinas’ brother Raul was indicted for murder (of that powerful political figure mentioned earlier) and then came the shocking even to Mexicans revelation that the Swiss government had uncovered secret bank accounts held in the name of Raul that totaled in the hundreds of millions of dollars. President Zedillo meanwhile quietly instituted reform in the presidential selection process that was to prove crucial in having a different political power voted into office at the turn of the current century. Judicial reform brought about a change in the tide of apparent decomposition of the Mexican government and the Mexican people took a short breather from the insanity of the doings of the exiled former president. Zedillo’s term was not totally placid – early on the massacre of seventeen peasants in the state of Guerrero by uniformed state police, lead to the cops staging a phony crime scene. The Aguas Blancas massacre went nuclear however when the Mexican press uncovered the cover up. The governor of the state knew the details but went on record (on television) as saying “This was nothing more than a political disagreement”. Public outrage ensued. Reuben Figueroa Alcocer was subsequently removed from office by his political party (the PRI) and yet another faggot of indignation was added to the pile that would be soon ignited by the Mexican public.
Vicente Fox was elected president in 2000 and the country fairly resonated with the ouster of the PRI party after more than seventy years of rule. Even though Fox subsequently became frustrated with his apparent lack of ability to institute reform in government policies (to suit Mexico’s conservative element) his administration proved that Ernesto Zedillo’s all-important administrative reforms had taken away much of the autonomous power of the presidency and put it into the hands of Mexico’s legislators. But the Mexicans were experiencing a rise in crime in the country especially in Mexico City. The utterly corrupt police were unable to deal with the problem and before long a million-person march descended on the gigantic central plaza in Mexico City. The city and the entire country for that fact were put on notice that the days of unbridled police corruption and incompetence were numbered. By now three viable political parties had emerged and the ogre of losing the next election surfaced for the first time. It was and is the best thing that ever happened in Mexican politics in my opinion.
Every last one of the hopelessly inept and corrupt Federal Judicial Police were suddenly fired and replaced with better trained personnel. The PJF as it was known was renamed the PFP and spent its first several years on the job under the watchful supervision of the Mexican military. The public nodded its approval – there seemed to be a substantial lessening of bribes and outright stupidity never mind arrogance and this particular small step forward gave the Mexican public even greater hope and confidence – finally, after thousands of false promises, change and reform were coming to the law enforcement and judiciary, at least on the federal level. The entire federal highway patrol force was fired and replaced with more honest personnel – the bonfire had been lit and there was no putting it out.
State and local police corruption was and is a tougher nut to crack. It’s no secret that many of the crimes committed in Mexico were and are being done by police officers. Much of the blame I tell my Mexican friends can be laid at the feet of Mexican citizens who rail against paying anything more than minimum wage to law enforcement personnel. Cops are expected to pay for their own gasoline, tires and repairs with money they extort from motorists. It isn’t that the cops pull someone over and say “Stick “Em Up”; they catch a driver in an infraction and say, “You can pay more here and now, or pay more (sometimes a lot more) at the police station”. If a house is burgled a homeowner is expected to cough up enough money to cover daily expenses (including paying a snitch) incurred during resolvement of their crime. Like it or not Mexican cops must rely on bribes in order to do their work. Such an atmosphere invites rampant disregard of any kind of a “corrupt cop’s code of correct conduct”. Being a cop in many cities, municipios (counties) and states means the prospect of theft, lying, even homicide.
Mexico’s law enforcement and judicial weaknesses have come to the forefront in the last decade. Narco Traficante Drug Lords went about with seeming impunity. When apprehended, corrupt judges released them on “bond” usually a pittance, they escaped from prison usually in a limousine and local government was the best money could buy. Kidnappings, murders, robbery and drug running went to an out-of-control level.
Two bright spots have emerged, the first and most important is the recognition that Mexico’s military personnel are overwhelmingly honest, and duty bound. The second pinprick of light is that maybe, just maybe the new breed of Federal Cop is more corruption resistant.
Drug traffickers meanwhile have sunk to new lows. Billions and billions of dollars in drug money plus a nothing-held-back arsenal of arms illegally flowing in from the USA have teamed to allow a horrific rise in the viciousness in drug gang violence. Over nothing more than the “right” to grow and sell marijuana, whole families have been slain including small children. Local and state cops are often offered the chance to choose: Make a lot of money or die. Some cops outright went over to the other side. The whole cop genre degraded to a level of contempt that became intolerable to the Mexican public. With three political parties to choose from they collectively yelled “Do Something Or Else!” The only viable law enforcement agency was the Mexican Army and it wasn’t too long before they too were subjected to the same choice as lesser law enforcement. They are of a different fabric. The drug gangs started to ambush members of the Mexican Army and they learned much to their dismay that the army does not back down. Soldiers have been killed and this added yet another layer of outrage by the Mexican public onto a funeral pyre being built for organized crime. Huge firefights have ensued and the drug gangs learned that killing a couple of soldiers was not worth the lives of a dozen gunmen.
Mexican organized crime does not know the meaning of the famous Sicilian term “Omerta”. Anyone despicable enough to murder women and children has no honor and that is therefore their great weakness; drug gang members sing like canaries when apprehended and threatened (“Oh gee by the way did we bother to tell you that if you don’t start talking you are going to end up in Prison X” which just happens to be an inmate stronghold for a rival drug gang). What this threat implies is that the lifespan of the prisoner would be measured in minutes after his arrival at that prison.
The outrage of the Mexican people has grown and grown. Narco-Corridos the once popular ballads espousing the exploits of Narco-traficantes has been peer-pressured right off the airways. People are now cheering the military and turning in suspected members of notorious drug gangs.
“David, did you see it on television? Those were our marines that took down Beltran Leyva and his henchmen in Cuernavaca last night”. Beltran Leyva was for years considered unfindable. The notorious kingpin was holed-up in a safe house and his gang had automatic weapons, a ton of ammunition and grenades. The battle made the North Hollywood Bank Shootout look pale and insignificant. The firefight was savage and the marines won the day handily. None of the gunmen survived and Beltran Leyva was carried out looking like a piece of Swiss Cheese. The nation erupted into an almost euphoric celebration.
The days of public resentment over having a strong law enforcement presence is long-gone. Mexican motorists now understand well the need for checking documents and searching vehicles at random roadside checks. It is an “Us Versus Them” mentality and this bodes well, very well for the future for our neighbors. Public impatience has led to the introduction of cheat-proof gasoline dispensing pumps and prosecution of thieving gas station attendants. Rx medications that are habit forming or subject to abuse are now strictly controlled and violators go to jail. Pressure is now being redirected at state and local law enforcement and judicial officers who for centuries have been sleazing within the system. Their days are numbered and they know it – well at least the smarter ones do. Today if a motorist even shows money to a federal highway patrolman they go to jail accompanied by a host of very expensive charges.
LETTING OFF SOME STEAM (Don’t Read This If You Are Easily Offended)
For some odd reason even as a child I have felt responsible for my own actions. I grew up where the N-word was snubbed not so much because of its hateful implication but using such a word proved to everyone else that you were an ignorant southern cracker or racist wacko. When I went to Tijuana I readily admit that I was more curious about Mexico than I was about seeing dusky nude dancers while flooding my throat with beer. I was actually self-conscious about being immersed in the sleazier section of Tijuana but I dreamed about perhaps one day bringing my car for a full Pleat & Roll upholstery job including inch deep carpets. Today I remember little of such cultural sleaze icons as The Blue Fox, but I remember having the best tamales of my young life for ten cents each.
If you want to really screw-up another human being (especially a child) simply chant as a mantra “You are a stupid, lying piece of worthless garbage and you will never amount to anything”. I would love to say such stupid psychology ceases and desists when adolescence gives way to adulthood but it doesn’t. Keep shouting something (which amounts to a pile of taunts and stereotypes) at someone and pretty soon they cannot disbelieve it. Mexico and the Mexicans have been subjected to this type of heartless prejudice for so long that digging it out of the system has been one of the most difficult sociological challenges of the 20th and 21st century. Idiot Americans who espouse anti-Mexican venom are helping in their own little malicious way to destabilize the country, and encourage more illegals to flee from poverty. Some of our most racist (and I don’t use that word lightly) and ignorant officials are those manning our US Customs and Border Patrol positions. I don’t blame them however I do blame our government agencies for encouraging a blind eye to be turned to anything positive or good existing south of the border. Heed the fact that “sensitivity-training” is not the issue, being cognizant, accurate and honest is the issue. Their overall score for being knowledgeable about Mexicans and Mexico is just about zero and that, is a disgrace.
Who is the sleaziest one of all: The grower of narcotics (after all without him there would be nothing to sell); The importer of narcotics (after all without him the drugs would never make it out of the field); The pusher of narcotics (after all he is the one making the drugs easy to buy) or the user (and without him there would be no demand, no money)? If I were rich – If I were rich I like to dream, I would erect billboards all across the United States. On those billboards would be gruesome images the corpses of murdered Mexican women and children. In fluorescent lettering lit by ultraviolet lighting would be the announcement “ATTENTION RECREATIONAL DRUG USERS! TAKE A LOOK AT WHAT YOUR RECREATIONAL DRUG MONEY IS BUYING IN MEXICO!”
Our culture winks at recreational drug use. It also totally ignores the fact that the lives of innocent children fall by the wayside. To me –that- is sleazier than The Blue Fox a hundred times over. The Blue Fox did not fund the murder of toddlers.
I would sure hate to think that Mexico is all alone in their fight. I would love to believe that the citizens of the United States at least most of them are true patriots and know when friends are yelling for all the help they can get and proceed