When Hell Freezes Over

This is the story that I have been waiting to write. Just as the crisis in the Ukraine was developing, there was another major news story. As quickly as it aired, it vanished. And yet, for me, and for anyone following the constantly evolving cartels in Mexico, this was more than newsworthy. This was historic. This would change everything. Because the most elusive criminal figure in organized crime in the western hemisphere had finally been caught.
On Saturday February 22, the story broke that Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman was now in the custody of Mexican authorities. This was the notorious head of the Sinaloa Cartel, a cartel kingpin who no adversary and certainly no law enforcement agent, had managed to take down in the ensuing bloodbath for control over Mexico. Everyone knew where he was: Mexico. Everyone knew where his stronghold was situated: somewhere in the central, mountainous region closer to the Pacific Ocean. There were numerous operations and armed assaults on suspected locations, but none ever yielded up Guzman. Until now.
The reason this all matters is that Chapo Guzman controlled far more than the drugs from his cartel. He controlled much of the drug trade in the west, managing Sinaloa more like a multi-national enterprise, a very profitable enterprise. To do that, Guzman had to strategically position himself ahead of all the other cartels vying for control. In 2010, major changes came with the emergence of a new, deadly and power-hungry cartel. Los Zetas had been the highly-trained armed enforcers for the powerful Gulf Cartel. Now, they wanted to claim their own stake. In a bloody declaration of their independence, they battled for control over the east coast of Mexico, and placing cities like Monterrey directly in the line of fire. The disparate groups banded into two alliances: one headed by Sinaloa and one by Los Zetas. Two formidable forces, with very different approaches, had effectively carved Mexico in half.
The loyalty of those within his ranks, or under his control, enabled Guzman to effectively hide in plain sight. More than any other cartel, Guzman and Sinaloa directed the affairs of government from the highest levels down to the smallest locales. And they held a similar hold over law officials. The proof of this has been validated and documented in stories and arrests. The sad truth is that decades of systemic corruption only made it easier for the cartels to exert their control and influence. While the former Calderone administration declared a war on drugs, they were vilified for the cost in human lives. Now, the Pena Nieto regime is a throwback to earlier days when the government had a more laissez-faire relationship with the cartels. For as much as the officials he bribed or coerced served his purposes, Chapo Guzman certainly served many interests, most importantly maintaining a balance of power amongst the cartels.
But cartel allegiances can shift like sand. Especially when cartels implode, or leadership is decimated by targeted attacks. Tijuana, La Familia, Gulf all suffered similar fates. Smaller, weaker cartels formed in their wake, further contributing to the inherent instability. And yet, Guzman maintained the helm and the integrity of Sinaloa. Until now.
Which raises some very important questions. What happens next? How will the balance of power be affected? Before anyone starts allocating spoils to the victor, we don’t really know who the victor really is. It’s still too soon to tell. Because with Guzman, we see only as much as he chooses to reveal. And the battle for control of Mexico is far from over.

Oh Mexico

Back in 2012 I started actively chronicling events in Mexico, as I researched my novel series. What struck me was how little of those events filtered up to mainstream Canadian and US newscasts. The rare reports of murders typically centered on tourists. More importantly, the story behind the story was not being told.

The awful truth was that the death toll in Mexico was equivalent to that of a warzone, particularly in cartel hotspots along the USA-Mexico border, like Juarez, which held the dubious distinction of being the most deadly city in the world. The tragedy came in who died in the slaughter: law enforcement officers, journalists, and ordinary citizens caught in the crossfire of a battle for control over Mexico by the cartels.

In North America, our impression of organized crime has largely been formed by what we watch in movies and on television. “The Godfather” and Tony Soprano make the Mafia more palatable, even appealing. Of course, there is also the Russian Mafiya, again made dangerously attractive through feature film and television, and Asian triads. But the Mexican cartels have no such hold over us, and have had relatively little exposure until recently. For the most part, the face of the Mexican cartels belongs to Juan Guzman, “El Chappo”, head of the Sinaloa cartel and a legendary crime figure. One only has to hear the stories of how he escaped prison in a laundry hamper; closed restaurants and rewarded the patrons there by buying their meals; and though everyone knows of his stronghold in Mexico, has never been found.

The reality is that Sinaloa has been the most powerful cartel in Mexico, under Guzman’s indisputed control. He directs the decisions and actions of countless high-ranking officials in politics and law enforcement, including the military. But the balance of power changed in 2010 when the Gulf Cartel splintered, and their armed enforcement component, Los Zetas, struck out on their own. Cutting a swath of violence across the country, these highly trained assassins sought to take their share, and more, of Mexico. And that meant taking control away from both the Gulf Cartel and Sinaloa. At stake were the lucrative border cities of Laredo and El Paso, where the vast majority of drugs were transported into the US. Also at stake was the Pacific coastline, where shipments of precursor chemicals used to make meth were coming in via boatloads from China. Control of the drugs meant control of the country.

In 2006, ex-president Phillipe Calderone declared war on the cartels, combatting them directly with police and the military. But he failed to appreciate the reach of the cartels, or how widespread, systemic corruption had made its way through all levels of government and into law enforcement and the military, making control by the cartels inevitable and devastating. Calderone’s efforts were the equivalent of throwing kerosene on a fire. Cartel reprisal was swift and merciless: entire families paid for the sins of the fathers. No one wanted to work in law enforcement. Journalists reported on anything but cartel activity. Even political officials who refused to accept a bribe met the same fate. There were mass graves; bodies hung from overpasses with crudely-made banners or “narcomantas” declaring victory and control one of the cartels.

Across the border from the United States, a country was being consumed by violence and crime at a scale unimaginable. Yet there was almost no news coverage. And what struck me was how vulnerable the rest of North America was. Because the reach of the cartels crossed the border with every shipment of drugs, extending their control into the supposedly safe and secure bastions of the US and Canada.