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Posts tagged ‘Mexico’

Institutionalizing Mexico’s Self-Defense Groups

By Taylor Marvin

Earlier this week leaders of community self-defense militias fighting drug cartels in the western Mexican state of Michoacán accepted a new cooperation agreement with the Mexican government. The deal, which calls for temporarily integrating militia members into the existing part-time Rural Defense Corps and municipal police, represents a bid by the administration of Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto to re-exert government control over the conflict between cartel members and vigilantes, which in recent weeks threatened to escalate into open warfare. Under the terms of the agreement members of the self-defense forces, or fuerzas autodefensas, must register their members and weapons with the government, turn in weapons deemed illegal, coordinate their actions with formal security forces, and if qualified may join local police. While the agreement is a major step towards the ‘institutionalization’ of the vigilante groups, it is unclear if the government will be able to exert meaningful control over the militias.

Over a year ago Michoacán communities organized to protect themselves from the rapes, kidnapping, extortions, and murders carried out by the Knights Templar cartel, which holds sway over much of the region. A quasi-religious group that unconvincingly claims to protect ordinary Mexican, the methamphetamine-trafficking Caballeros Templarios functioned as something like a parallel state in regions of Michoacán but is locked in a violent struggle with the Mexican government, rival cartels, and now the vigilantes.

The Peña Nieto administration had previously tacitly accepted the militias, apparently viewing them as a hands-off means of controlling cartel violence. But after violence between the Knights and vigilantes escalated this month — with the autodefensas seizing several towns and disarming local police they believed to be corruptly aiding the cartels — the Mexican government dispatched 9,000 soldiers and federal police to Michoacán, demanding that the militias disarm and place their faith in federal security forces. Militia leaders initially refused, despite their professed gratitude for the federal intervention, saying that they would only stand down after top-ranking Knights were eliminated. It is no coincidence that the deal came hours after the arrest of Dionisio Loya Plancarte, the Knights’ third-highest ranking leader and usual spokesman.

At least on paper, the agreement benefits both the vigilantes and the Mexican government. While the self-defense groups may lose some weapons deemed illegal by security forces, it is unclear if the Mexican government is actually committed to confiscating illegal arms and it has said it will provide the militias with communications and transportation equipment. The agreement will also allow the autodefensas to preserve their organizational ability to protect themselves, making it more difficult for the cartels to punish members for defying them — fear of future retribution was a major barrier to vigilantes agreeing to the government’s previous demand that they disband, disarm, and join local police forces. For its part the deal is an attractive middle path for the Peña Nieto administration. Turning a blind eye to the militias would mean an unacceptable admission that the Mexican government has no real ability to police its most dangerous regions and that, in the words of autodefensa leader Dr. José Manuel Mireles, “the failed state was no longer a myth.” But forcibly disarming self-defense groups could be a bloody fight, again put federal security forces in the uncomfortable position of killing ordinary Mexicans, and risk the perception that the government tolerates murderous cartels but not those defending their communities.

Institutionalizing the autodefensas, even if only nominally, allows the Peña Nieto administration to save face and try to refocus international attention on Mexico’s economic potential rather than violence. The move may also lead to greater security gains than relying on local police or federal security forces alone. Counterinsurgency strategy stresses the importance of local security forces operating within a population, who have access to information and first-hand understanding of community social structures that outside counterinsurgents do not. This same logic, when applied to Mexico’s muddled counter-cartel and arguably counterinsurgency campaign, suggests that the militias could continue to be a more effective bulwark against the cartels than federal security forces. Self-defense groups also have more staying power in the community, helping break the cycle of crackdowns followed by the flight and slow re-infiltration of organized crime.

As Patricio Asfura-Heim and Ralph H. Espach wrote in Foreign Affairs last summer, while “self-defense groups have often proved vulnerable to co-optation by criminal and insurgent groups” they are also a valuable means of bolstering formal security forces. Across the globe informal vigilante groups are more closely tied to the communities they intend to protect than police or soldiers, often enjoy greater legitimacy within their communities than local or central governments, and while outside of strict state control are not necessarily any more corruptible than state security forces. As Asfura-Heim and Espach write:

A growing body of research suggests that when states are unable or unwilling to provide security, local self-defense groups may be an imperfect but effective alternative. These forces are much cheaper and faster to assemble than formal police and army units, and they can quickly muster large numbers of men to secure isolated communities. Whereas outside forces need years to get to know the geography and residents of an area, local self-defense groups start with a leg up. Moreover, since these groups are motivated to protect their families and communities, they tend to be less predatory and to have higher morale than state security forces … Finally, when the state cooperates with self-defense groups, it can use those ties to reach out to isolated communities and provide them with public services.

It’s easy to say that Mexico should rely on formal security forces, and not community militias, for policing. But the autodefensas’ existence is due to the security vacuum that allowed cartels to essentially control many communities in the first place. If corrupt of ineffective local police and remote federal security forces could not effectively police Michoacán communities then, it is difficult to argue that they will be able to do so in the near future. Asfura-Heim and Espach end their piece with the recommendation that the Peña Nieto administration reach out to and institutionalize the self-defense groups, as it now has.

But even if successfully implemented, the agreement between the government and the self-defense groups doesn’t address the risks associated tolerating vigilantes. The Peña Nieto administration’s policy of tacitly accepting the militias was feared to indirectly condone uncontrollable retributory violence that may or may not be targeted at cartel members, weaken state authority, endanger local governments, and run the risk that individual self-defense groups could turn to trafficking and other illicit activities to sustain themselves. Indeed, the forerunner of the Knights Templars, La Familia Michoacana, grew out of religiously-inspired community defense groups, and right-wing paramilitaries with their roots in military-supported self-defense pacts were responsible for some of the worst atrocities in Colombia’s long armed conflict. If some self-defense groups are actually linked to rival cartels, as many fear, the government’s deal means indirectly allying with some criminal organizations to fight others.

“Outsourcing” security to semi-official militias remains an admission that the Mexican state cannot apply accountability or the rule of law throughout its territory. Given the Mexican state’s inability to impose order in some regions, this admission may be a necessary one. But unless the federal government can firmly exercise control over the self-defense groups’ actions, all the risks associated with communal violence will persist. While Peña Nieto may prefer to keep international eyes on his country’s growing economy, a Mexican state so frustrated with its inability to provide security that it accepts unaccountable vigilantism at the cost of its own legitimacy is not likely to resolve Mexico’s problems.

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The Impossible Dilemma of Mexico’s Vigilantes

Map via Wikimedia.

Map via Wikimedia.

By Taylor Marvin

In a move that the LA Times described as an attempt to head off “a mini-civil war,” last week the Mexican federal government announced that it would assume responsibility for security in regions of Michoacán. The western Mexican state has been torn by violence between the Knights Templar, or Caballeros Templarios, cartel and extralegal community self-defense groups, known as autodefensas. While the Mexican government had dispatched military forces to the state last year, the move to disarm both the militias and local police comes in contrast to president Enrique Peña Nieto’s previous tacit acceptance of the vigilante groups and campaign vow to withdrawal the military from the fight against the cartels. Clashes between the militias, local residents, and government forces — including one that left at least one civilian dead at the hands of soldiers — appeared to have subsided, but the government’s ability to disarm these groups remains in doubt. Autodefensa leaders have said that federal security forces are welcome, but they have not laid down their arms.

The methamphetamine-trafficking Knights Templar organization, which is seeped in salvationist evangelical Christian rhetoric, provides local social services, and enjoys a wide popular following in Michoacán, is essentially an extractive parallel local state in some regions, taxing commerce and reportedly planning to tax housing by the square foot. Also responsible for widespread rapes, extortions, and murders, the Knights Templar split off in 2010 from the now-largely defunt La Familia Michoacana cartel, a similarly evangelical organization which itself has its roots in local militia organizations.

In response to the government’s inability to provide security and the complicity and corruption of local police and officials, in recent years organized self-defense militias began to emerge in over a dozen Mexican states. Often enjoying considerable support from locals and armed with a motley of (illegal) automatic rifles, high-caliber sniper rifles, and shotguns, the vigilante groups have fought a series of gun battles with cartel members, seized several towns in Michoacán and Guerrero, and detained and disarmed local police believed to be working with the cartels. “We have detained the director of public security because he is involved with criminals and he knows who killed our commander,” claimed one militia spokesman last March.

For their part, in an obvious — but not necessarily untrue — effort to undermine the vigilantes’ popular support, the Knights Templar have accused the self-defense groups of working with a rival cartel, which their leaders deny. The Peña Nieto administration had previously tacitly accepted the vigilante groups, both as a means of improving local security and in recognition that federal authorities have little ability to actually control the popular groups, whose existence is due to local governments’ inability to provide security.

In contrast to his predecessor, Felipe Calderón, Peña Nieto has attempted to pursue a more hands-off anti-violence policy. Drug trafficking-related violence dramatically worsened after Calderón’s 2006 election, who launched a new policy of using the Mexican military — which was seen as more capable and less corrupt than police forces — to target cartel leaders. While these efforts led to the elimination of many cartel leaders, it also disrupted the delicate inter-cartel equilibrium and opened power vacuums that the cartels violently disputed. Since 2006, violence between cartels, local authorities, and the federal government is estimated to have killed over 70,000 people.

Peña Nieto campaigned on a promise to redirect anti-crime policy from targeting the cartel leadership towards efforts to halt the kidnappings and violence that affect ordinary Mexicans and to transfer responsibility for fighting the cartels from the military to a civilian gendarmerie, though these promises were often dismissed as evidence that Peña Nieto had no real strategy for or interest in tackling cartel violence. It was hoped that this new approach would led to a reduction in inter-cartel violence by once again tacitly accepting drug trafficking as long as the cartels kept their violence out of the public eye. However, the massive disruption of Calderón’s militarized drug war has led many cartels to branch out from their tradition drug trafficking to more violent criminal activities like kidnappings and extortion, as well as a general increase in criminality, and the murder rate does not appear to have fallen in Peña Nieto’s first year in office.

Whether the militias should be considered local insurgencies or not, the Peña Nieto administration appears to increasingly judge that it cannot tolerate the militias. In addition to complicating Peña Nieto’s international messaging efforts that stresses Mexico’s stability and business-friendliness, the militias’ checkpoints and unsanctioned retributory violence is a serious challenge to state authority — the government’s previous acceptance of the self-defense groups’ extralegal violence was essentially an admission that the Mexican state had no ability to or interest in actually governing its most violent regions. Worse, many have questioned whether illegal armed groups dedicated to vigilante justice are really any more stabilizing than the cartels, and highlighted the possibility that the autodefensas will become criminal organizations themselves. This is a very real fear. The militias’ rhetoric of community self-defense and regional pride is not that different from La Familia or the Knights Templar before then, and if federal authorities are not able quickly disband the self-defense groups their organization inertia may encourage their own self-sustaining extractive criminal activities. Similarly, it is also unclear who the vigilantes really are, and if the groups’ violence also includes covert score-settling by community members.

Accordingly, the federal government has demanded that the local militias disarm and trust in federal security forces’ ability to protect them. Early last week the Mexican interior minister vowed that the federal government would pacify the region and urged self-defense group members to protect their community by joining local police forces or calling anti-crime tip lines. Unsurprisingly, many vigilantes see the federal government’s change of policy as a ‘betrayal.’ Given local police forces’ complicity in cartel violence — last year 18 bodies were uncovered in Michoacán after the confession of police officers working with cartels members — this plea is unlikely to convince many autodefensa members to lay down their arms.

The federal government’s position puts the vigilantes in an impossible dilemma. While militia leaders maintain that they will voluntarily disarm if the government restores public safety by decimating the Knights, after nearly a decade of cartel-related violence the Mexican government cannot credibly promise to protect militia members from retribution by the cartels. “If we give up our weapons without any of the drug cartel leaders having been detained, we are putting our families in danger because they will come and kill everyone, including the dogs,” one autodefensa leader in Michoacán told the BBC. In the absence of a believable federal commitment to protect them, self-defense group members are already committed — if federal security forces are unable to force the cartels out, the only way to survive their affiliation with the militias is to preserve their organizational ability to protect themselves.

But the government faces its own trap. “If soldiers continue to disarm the self-defense groups, the government will be accused of being complicit with the Knights Templar, but if it stops it will be accused of protecting paramilitary groups,” the New York Times recently wrote, citing analyst Alejandro Hope. After escalating violence forced its implicit acceptance of the militias out in to the open the Peña Nieto administration must do something to demonstrate that it can restore order, but it similarly cannot provide the local security the militias can. Indeed, it is unclear if the central government has any real ability to force a change in the local situation — as reports of federal troops standing by as autodefensa members occupied one town or openly cooperating with militia members indicate. The federal government’s need to both disarm the militias and provide permanent security — neither of which it appears to be capable of — puts the Peña Nieto administration in “an impossible bind,” in the words of James Bargent. Operations targeting the cartels will not restore public safety — as they have failed to do again and again — and eventually federal forces will leave and cartel members return. Turning a blind eye to the self-defense groups means further acceptance of communal violence, degrades state authority, and runs the risk that they will metastasize into overtly-criminal organizations. But if authorities are somehow able to peacefully disarm the autodefensas but cannot fill the security vacuum they leave, things will be worse, not better, for local residents subject to cartel retribution.

The organized self-defense groups are a reasonable response by Mexicans who understand that their government cannot protect them. But while tacit acceptance of the militias may be a tempting policy for the frustrated federal government, uncontrollable vigilantism is not a solution it can accept. So far, the lesson of the Michoacán crisis is that it takes a complete breakdown in state authority for the federal government to get serious about local security. This is not an encouraging message for ordinary Mexicans.

Why Don’t Anti-Drug Campaigns Highlight Violence?, Cont.

By Taylor Marvin

Image by Borderland Beat Reporter Buggs, via Wikimedia.

Image by Borderland Beat Reporter Buggs, via Wikimedia.

Two weeks ago I authored the weekly Friday Puzzler at Political Violence @ a Glance, asking why few American anti-drug campaigns offer drug trade-fueled cartel violence as a reason to abstain from illegal drugs. As I wrote here at the time:

“To be clear, I’m not saying that highlighting cartel violence in Mexico would convince many of the young people public anti-drug campaigns typically target to abstain, but it’s possible that campaigns focusing on the violent drug trade  – rather than the personal health and social problems that these campaigns typically highlight — would be effective. I think that today’s anti-drug campaigns are often ineffective because potential drug users are able to see the costs of illegal drug use they highlight as hypothetical: sure, drug use ruins other people’s lives, but it can’t happen to me. Highlighting the violence inherent to the international drug trade, while more remote, is also more real: if I buy illegal drugs my habit will directly lead to further violence.”

By explicitly linking the act of purchasing illicit drugs to very-real violence in Mexico and elsewhere, such a campaign would force drug users to confront the social costs of their habit — or that would be the idea, anyway. In addition to its graphic shock value (which are often a feature of anti-drug public health campaigns, particularly those focusing on drunk driving or tobacco use), such a campaign could be effective because many young drug users see themselves as conscientious and globally-minded. Highlighting the social costs of the drug trade abroad could be a more effective way of speaking to this subset of potential drug users than messages stressing the personal costs of drug use.

However, there are many reasons to doubt the efficacy of such a campaign. As I wrote at the time, “one reason for this absence could be that the connection between American drug use and foreign trafficking-related violence is too remote to influence behavior, or that potential drug users are unlikely to see violence visited on others — and foreigners, at that — as reasons not to use illegal drugs.” There are other reasons such campaigns haven’t materialized, as well. One commenter rightly noted that public health campaigns highlighting the costs of drug prohibition, not consumption, naturally bait awkward questions about the purpose of prohibiting drugs at all. Given that nearly all aspects of the American political establishment favor continuing prohibition — conservatives because they truly appear to oppose the normalization of even soft drug use, and liberals because anti-drug rhetoric is a usefully low-priority issue used to demonstrate Democratic law-and-order credentials — this implicit condemnation of the war on drugs would be deeply problematic.

Commenters also suggested that anti-drug campaigners have run public heath campaigns stressing political violence associated with the drug trade. Specifically, after 9/11 the Bush Administration adopted the supposed link between drug cartels and Islamic terrorism as a routine talking point, and ran a series of ads explicitly accusing drug users of supporting terrorism. However, while this campaign wasn’t specifically what I was referring to in the question, it does raise an interesting inference. If anti-drug campaigns have attempted to use largely hypothetical violence targeting Americans as a reason not to purchase drugs but ignored ongoing violence visited on foreigners, the architects of these campaigns must judge that Americans care only for their compatriots. Interesting, indeed.

Why Don’t Anti-Drug Campaigns Highlight Violence?

By Taylor Marvin

I wrote the weekly puzzler post at Political Violence @ a Glancean academic blog primarily authored by political scientists. Today I asked why American anti-drug campaigns largely ignore the social costs of Americans’ demand for drugs in Latin America. In researching the question I looked at numerous contemporary  youth-focused anti-drug campaigns, and found few references to cartel violence as a reason not to purchase illegal drugs.

To be clear, I’m not saying that highlighting cartel violence in Mexico would convince many of the young people public anti-drug campaigns typically target to abstain, but it’s possible that campaigns focusing on the violent drug trade  — rather than the personal health and social problems that these campaigns typically highlight — would be effective. I think that today’s anti-drug campaigns are often ineffective because potential drug users are able to see the costs of illegal drug use they highlight as hypothetical: sure, drug use ruins other people’s lives, but it can’t happen to me. Highlighting the violence inherent to the international drug trade, while more remote, is also more real: if I buy illegal drugs my habit will directly lead to further violence.

One reason for this absence could be that the connection between American drug use and foreign trafficking-related violence is too remote to influence behavior, or that potential drug users are unlikely to see violence visited on others — and foreigners, at that — as reasons not to use illegal drugs. Similarly, an anti-drug campaign highlighting trafficking-related violence would be most effective if it was graphic, and public agencies could be hesitant to distribute disturbing images. But I am still surprised few anti-drug campaigners have tried this tactic. Any suggestions why?

Comparing Genocides

By Taylor Marvin

I’ve previously written on the problems with overusing the term “genocide” as a catch-all for mass war crimes. Aside from this tendency to apply the term where it doesn’t definitionally fit, another issue with popular discourse’s discussions of genocide is comparisons to the Holocaust. These comparisons come naturally: as arguably the best understood and most popularly known instances of genocide, it is tempting to contrast other genocides with the Holocaust in order to convey their magnitude. But these comparisons can be unhelpful, because beyond their gravity, episodes of mass killing are distinct instances that often share little motivation, effect, or historical context. That’s why I find a passage of John Ross’ history of Mexico City, El Monstruoproblematic. “No matter how you count it, the obliteration of the native peoples of Mexico at the hands of the Spanish invaders is the most devastating act of genocide on the books,” Ross writes. “Hitler’s holocaust… is dwarfed by comparison.”

It isn’t that this comparison is factually incorrect — while estimates of the pre-Columbian population in the area that later became Mexico are uncertain, the destruction of Mexico’s cosmopolitan civilizations killed enormous numbers of people. Expanding this view to the entire extent of Iberian conquests throughout the Americas makes it even more costly. But comparing the Iberian conquest to the Holocaust is uninformative, because the two are so different that they have little in common beyond catastrophe.

That’s not to say the near-eradication of the indigenous Americans wasn’t terrible; “terrible” is clearly and understatement. The integration of the Americas into the Afro-Eurasian world system is one of the most catastrophic event in human history. The Iberians conquered, systematically exploited, and, when they decided the Americans possessed souls, forcibly converted vast numbers of indigenous peoples. But the colonization of the Americans and the Holocaust are so distinct I feel that it is not constructive to compare them, even in vague terms. The vast majority of native American deaths in the aftermath of the Iberians’ arrival were caused by communicable diseases that the Europeans were unaware they transmitted. While this transmission was undeniably catastrophic, it is difficult to incorporate it into the concept of genocide. Also distinct were the Iberians’ deliberate oppression. Seeking to conquer and exploit the Americas’ native peoples, the Europeans acted with a brutality driven by their religiously-binary worldviews and their nearly-uniform racism. But without diminishing  the human costs of the conquest, I find this difficult to compare to the deliberatively-eradicative nature of the Holocaust in any informative way.

One of the problems with discussing genocide is its sheer brutality is beyond most people’s ability to comprehend. This makes it tempting to utilize the Holocaust — the instance of genocide Americans are most familiar with — as a yardstick for comparing other historical genocides. But this comparison often yields little insight, while threatening to trivialize. The colonization of the Americans resulted in more deaths than the Holocaust, but arguing that it was somehow worse, or otherwise comparable, is misguided. Genocide in all instances is catastrophic, but that is often all that they have in common. Authors should not give into the temptation to simplify mass killings spurred by very different motives into a single concept.

Mexico’s Election: Progress or Retreat?

By Taylor Marvin

I have a piece on Mexico’s presidential election up at my old haunt, Prospect Journal of International Affairs. The piece briefly covers the return of the PRI to power in Mexico after a twelve year absence, and the election’s effect on the drug war:

“On July 2nd Mexicans overwhelmingly elected Enrique Peña Nieto as Mexico’s next president. Superficially Peña Nieto represents a new breed of Mexican politician: youthful, social media savvy, and eager to chart a new course for Mexico. However, the reality is more complicated. Peña Nieto’s election represents the return of the Institutional Revolutionary Party (Partido Revolucionario Institucional, or PRI), which dominated Mexican politics from 1929 to 2000, to the presidency. Peña Nieto is also distressingly vague about his incoming administration’s strategy to combat devastating drug cartel violence, by far the most urgent issue facing Mexico today. By electing Peña Nieto and returning the presidency to the PRI, Mexicans expressed their disgust for the status quo and desire for change. However, it remains to be seen if Peña Nieto, who takes office in December, can implement the reforms Mexico so desperately needs.”

Check it out if you’re interested.