News Coverage of Mexican Drug War

If you are interested in following US news coverage of the Mexican drug war, the LA Times has an interesting section on their webpage that groups together all of their stories relating to drug trafficking and drug related violence in (or connected to) Mexico. It is all collated by date, but you can also get the stories listed by dateline, byline, or type of article (video, story, etc.). It would make a great resource for looking at US media coverage of the issue.

 One of the articles in the special section address the problem of drugs coming in through Central America. It looks at the case of El Salvador in particular, a country that, in the past, hasn't really seen the same type of drug trafficking as Guatemala has. The story also reports that the police have found a cocaine lab in Honduras, evidence that the Mexican cartels are making their own cocaine (an enterprise that has long been a Colombian monopoly), and even Costa Rica is complaining about an influx of Mexican drug traffickers. According to the article, more than 60 percent of the cocaine that reaches the US arrives via Central America, a number attributed to US State Department sources. El Salvador has become a more popular route for trafficking because of a new highway that bisects the northern region built in part with US funding and because the official currency is the US dollar, which makes it easier to launder money.

Two things in particular struck me about this article. First, the report describes a town in Chalatenango, where drugs coming in from Honduras are repackaged and shipped on to Guatemala. We just finished reading a book about guerrilla warfare in the political science class I am a TA for that describes the FMLN presence in a small town in Chalatenango, and it brings home some of the connections between the violence of the civil war and the violence that the drug trade brings with it. Second, the ads included at the side of the page when you read the article online are all for Mexican and Central American vacations, a somewhat ironic twist given the content of the article. I have seen some coverage of how/if the drug violence has been affecting tourism in Mexico, but not much coverage as to how it might be affecting Central America. Granted, El Salvador isn't exactly a tourist magnet like Costa Rica. But Guatemala, for example, earns about 2.2 percent of its GDP from tourism (in 2009, according to Prensa Libre). I have no idea if that is a big percentage or not, but I do know that Guatemala has made a huge effort in recent years to boost tourism.

Finally, to round out this post, I want to point you all to a photo gallery at boston.com that includes some striking images of the drug war in Mexico. The images are certainly arresting, but what stuck out the most for me about this photo gallery is that some of the more grisly images were censored. Ok, not censored in that they were altered, but some of the photos are left black with a warning notice that says:

Warning: This image contains graphic or objectionable content. Click here to view it.

The captions of the pictures are not blacked out, however, so you can get an idea of what the image is before you decide if you want to see it. Such a disclaimer/warning is an interesting way to get around the issue of being too sensational, too voyeuristic, too graphic when covering violence. It also reminds me of the news that came out a week or so ago about Mexican news agencies agreeing on guidelines on how to cover drug violence without glorifying drug bosses and putting their journalists at risk.

Nepotism Laws and Presidential Divorce

Just in case you haven't been following this story (see here, here and here, too), Guatemalan politics have once again taken a strange turn. As with all good political intrigues, this tale includes a woman some have called the power behind the throne, a high-powered divorce,  allegations of corruption, an opposition candidate with a shady military past, and lots of money.

The Guatemalan Constitution forbids the close relatives of the incumbent president and vice-president to run for president, a nepotism law put in place as a impediment to the establishment of presidential dynasties. Why is it important to know this small piece of Guatemalan law, you ask? Because the wife of the incumbent president, Sandra Torres de Colom,* has announced her intention to run for the highest office in the elections this September. Initially, Torres argued that her candidacy was legal because she is not a blood relative of President Colom, but rather a relative by marriage. After the courts ruled that her definition of "close relative" did not hold up, the couple announced that they would be filing for divorce. That's right, divorce. If she is no longer married to the president, then she can be a legitimate presidential candidate. At least that is, unless the current legal challenges to this political maneuvering hold up in court.

Sandra Torres is a controversial figure in Guatemala. She is the face of Colom's social programs, and has a strong following in rural areas, where the Mi Familia Progresa (My Progressive Family), a conditional cash transfer program, has raised living conditions for many indigenous women. The Mi Familia Progresa program, however, has been pinned with numerous allegations of corruption and embezzlement, and Torres herself has been accused of corruption, fraud, and misuse of public funds. She was also implicated in the murder of a lawyer in 2009, a bizarre case that I wrote about in previous posts (here and here). Both Torres and her husband were cleared by the CICIG of being involved in the Rosenberg murder, but accusations of corruption still hover around the presidential couple.

The presidential election in Guatemala this fall will be quite an interesting spectacle. The last presidential election in 2007 was one of the bloodiest on record, with over 50 politicians killed in the six months leading up to election day. Many of the deaths were attributed to "common crime," but it is most likely the case that most of these murders were politically motivated. Hiring assassins is apparently a relatively cheap and easy way to defeat your political rivals. This election season may or may not be as bloody as 2007, but it has certainly be fraught with controversy so far. The Economist article that I link to above puts the situation in easy to understand terms, so I'll quote it here:

Ms Torres is not the only candidate running on dubious constitutional grounds. Álvaro Arzú, a former president, is campaigning despite a ban on re-election. Zury Ríos, a congresswoman, may be blocked by a prohibition on the relatives of the organisers of coups, since her father, Efraín Ríos Montt, toppled a government in 1982 and installed himself as dictator. Eduardo Suger, another possible candidate, was born in Switzerland and may not meet the requirement to be “Guatemalan in origin”. “Ministers of religion” are forbidden from running too, which might spell problems for Harold Caballeros, the founder of a large evangelical church.

One of the few candidates free of constitutional entanglements is Otto Pérez Molina, a former general who narrowly lost a run-off vote to Mr Colom in 2007. Mr Pérez Molina is the strong favourite: a recent poll put his support at 43%, with Ms Torres next on only 11%. In 2007 he promised an “iron fist” against crime. Since then Guatemala has become far more dangerous, as Mexican cocaine smugglers have put down roots in the wild jungle areas near the northern border. After four years of the soft-spoken Mr Colom, some Guatemalans might fancy an ex-army man to drive the gunmen back across the frontier (The Economist March 24, 2011).

 When I was in Guatemala last summer, may people told me they thought that Otto Pérez would be the next president. Not because of his policies, or because of his popularity, but because he came in second in the 2007 elections. I heard from a number of sources that that is how politics work in Guatemala. The runner up of the previous election will win the current one. Berger can in second to Portillo in 1999 and won in 2003. Colom came in second to Berger in 2003 and won in 2007. The logic goes that people want to vote for whoever they think will win. So they say, anyway. I guess we'll find out in September. Or December, if it comes to a run-off. If no one gets 50 percent of the vote in the first round of elections (which is tough to do, especially if there are 14 presidential candidates like there were in 2007), then there will be a run-off election a few months later between the top two candidates.

* a note on Guatemala surnames: Most Guatemalans use two last names, one being their mother's name and the other being their father's name. The first last name is the father's family name, and the second last name is the mother's family name. When addressing someone, you would use the father's family name (the first last name). So, for example, Otto Pérez Molina is often called Otto Pérez, and if you were speaking to him in person you would call him Sr. Pérez (or perhaps General Pérez?). This is why President Colom, whose full name is Alvaro Colom Caballeros, is called Colom and not Caballeros. For married women, the name changes a bit. When a woman gets married, she drops her mother's family name and places her husband's first last name after her father's family name, with a "de" (of) in between. Hence, Sandra Torres de Colom. Make sense?

***Update: As pointed out to me by a friend currently living in Guatemala, Arzú's candidacy has been ruled unconstitutional and images of his wife have begun to appear on posters around the city. I seem to remember seeing something about this in the news recently. Since Arzú is not currently president, his wife is free to run. (Thanks, Sophie, for the heads up on this!)

Article on Rosenberg in the New Yorker

If any of you out there are interested in reading a New Yorker article about the Rosenberg murder I wrote about in this blog post, follow this link. I really recommend taking the time to read it. It says a lot about politics in Guatemala. Stranger than fiction...

Persona Management Software

This morning I followed a twisty path from my Facebook newsfeed to this blog post to, finally, this blog post.What magnetic force pulled me forward up this ladder of links, you ask? A concept that both my social science side and my science fiction side found fascinating (and not all that surprising, really): the government/political organizations/interest groups are developing/have developed/have implemented new software that creates a fictional persona with an online presence that is indistinguishable from a real person. Ok, so far, other than from a more metaphysical or philosophical standpoint, this doesn't sound that threatening. But, as Happy Rockefeller writes in his Daily Kos blog, the nefarious purpose of such fictional online personae is to manufacture opinions, Facebook statuses, tweets, and online commentary in an effort to influence public attitudes.

With persona management software, an employee can control multiple automated personae, building each virtual person from false accounts on a plethora of interconnect social networking sites. False accounts, that is, in the sense that these people do not exist outside of the internet. Instead, they exist on thumb drives or on servers, made up of a series of RSS feeds, retweeted tweets, and made-up social networking profiles. Much of this has come out in leaked emails taken from a defense contracting firm, HB Gary, by the hacker group Anonymous. Rockefeller quotes from the email, and I'll repost it here:

Using the assigned social media accounts we can automate the posting of content that is relevant to the persona.  In this case there are specific social media strategy website RSS feeds we can subscribe to and then repost content on twitter with the appropriate hashtags.  In fact using hashtags and gaming some location based check-in services we can make it appear as if a persona was actually at a conference and introduce himself/herself to key individuals as part of the exercise, as one example.  There are a variety of social media tricks we can use to add a level of realness to all fictitious personas.

Both bloggers linked above point out that the purpose of these false personae is to plant fake opinions out there in cyberspace. These fictitious personae can post comments on blogs, retweet opinions for or against controversial topics, or bring up arguments or counterarguments no yet in the public consciousness. An attitude, opinion, or stance that may have only a small following in "real" life can seem overwhelmingly large when fake people are loudly supporting it.

But what does this creation of false virtual personae really mean, beyond the ability to flood the market (so to speak) with opinions that are not necessarily held by that many people in the "real" world. First, cyberspace is already a skewed space. I don't know if anyone can argue that the opinions we see on Facebook, Twitter, etc., is representative of the population. For now, I'm thinking of the smaller world of US politics, but this could certainly be widened to include other parts of the world. There is a certain type of person that gets online and posts, and not just in terms of money (you have to have at least some money to own a computer and have internet access...although that is debated in terms of facebook and tweeting, given the more wide availability of cellphones, etc.). Not everyone who has a cell phone or a computer posts their political opinions online. And we should already be aware (although I think some people forget this) that just because a group has a loud presence online doesn't mean it is actually powerful, cohesive, or large. People who are talking about politics online are already a self-selected group.

I wonder, too, what these false personae represent on a more philosophical level? Perhaps my literary friends who are well versed in the tropes of science fiction in general and cyberpunk in particular can address this question better than I.

Finally, this begs the question if shooting "false" opinions out into cyberspace really changes "real" people's opinions. I think this has something to do, first, with new research that shows that given the fragmentation of news media in the digital age, consumers seek out media outlets that are closest to their own political ideology. That is, lefties tend to watch John Stewart, conservatives are more likely to watch Glenn Beck. Your political leanings tend to determine which media you are exposed to. So does this argument extend to virtual personae? Would opinions expressed by false accounts only reach those who already share that opinion? Is this like preaching to the choir? A mechanism of reinforcement rather than change?

Second, the theory that these false personae can change people's opinions depends on the theory that people are easily lead. Josh Clark, in his How Stuff Works blog, explains:

...[U]nder the bandwagon technique a tweet that shows support for union labor is trumped by 50 replies that suggest unions are bad for America. We like to be on the winning team, generally, so we may be swayed by the 50:1 ratio against the concept of unions, which germinates into personal opinion, which may be disseminated in to others throughout one’s lifetime. All this without any real information.

I understand the logic here, but I'm not sure if I agree that public opinion works this way. Which I guess is a bit funny, coming from me, since I'm writing about how news media coverage of crime in Latin America influences public opinion. But the more research I do on the topic, the more it seems that people's opinions can be sharpened or a topic can be made more salient, but it is very hard to actually change someone's opinion. And I am very skeptical of the idea that the weight of numbers is all it takes.

This is not to say that I think that the use of persona management programs is benign. I'd like to see some research on this "bandwagoning" of opinion. I'll have to do a bit more digging on the subject (I'll report back if I find anything). Is this really how things work?

But even if this isn't how you change people's opinions, it is still nothing to sneeze at to be able to more firmly confirm already held opinions. These false personae could easily help to cement already held views once people see evidence that more people think like them. Again, reinforcement rather than change.

Dark Tourism

I just read an article off of someone's facebook page about "dark tourism" in Mexico (if you click the link, it's in Spanish...all you English speakers are forewarned). I had never heard of such a thing (well, ok, I had, but not by that name). It evokes such an interesting image, this idea of dark, or morbid, tourism. The article talks about "narco" culture, tourists visiting the sites of famous massacres or going into the northern border towns to look for a little peek at something dangerous. On top of this macabre search for the sensationalized, glorified trappings of the drug cartels, tourists are also looking to experience the darker side of poverty and oppression. The article describes organized groups heading to Chiapas to visit the poor indigenous regions famous for the Zapatista uprising and a tour in an ecological park in central Mexico that simulates the experiences of illegal immigrants crossing the desert to get into the US.

On the one hand, you have people looking for adventure, something dangerous, a glimpse of a life that they can only see in the movies, a way to satiate their morbid curiosity. On the other hand, you have people who are traveling to educate themselves (or at least they are trying to convince themselves of this), people who want to see first hand how the world really works, how those less fortunate suffer. It is perhaps a way that some feel they can show compassion for their fellow humans. But I am not convinced that this type of tourism is any different than the first kind, no less motivated by morbid curiosity, no less voyeuristic. I have a hard time wrapping my head around foreign tourists paying for the privilege to suffer dehydration and exhaustion in the desert and humiliation at the hands of fake border patrol officers in an attempt to understand what it is like to be an illegal immigrant. Is this really how we can find compassion? It reminds me somewhat of the slum tours offered in places like Rio de Janeiro or Mumbai. Tourists, often very well-meaning tourists, want to get a real life glimpse of the infamous shanty towns, perhaps in an attempt to put a human face on poverty. But can we really understand life in a favela by going on a tour? Are we not, by the very act of observing, of "touring," changing the slum? I have great respect for those who commit their lives to working with people living in slums and shanty towns, but I have no desire to go on a tour there. It feels too much like voyeurism.

Of course, dark tourism is not a new phenomenon. Think back, for example, to the wagons full of spectators at the battle of Bull Run during the US Civil War.  And the category of dark tourism should not be limited to witnessing dark acts as they are happening. We can also include visiting areas that have suffered war or tragedy long after the actual events occurred. We could include here Revolutionary War reenactment, visiting Ground Zero in New York City, making pilgrimages to Civil War battlegrounds, or walking the grounds of Auschwitz. This is not to say that there are not other reasons to visit these sites (if you'll forgive the double negative). I do not want to discount those who visit such places as an act of respect for the dead. But there is still this fascination with the gruesome, the awful, the brutal, acts of war and crime and mass murder, that pulls us in, a motivation that lies beyond the idea that we should witness depravity in order to prevent it in the future. Please do not think that I am advocating here that we forget the victims of the Holocaust or of the 9/11 attacks or of any civil war. There is truth to the cliche that when we forget the past we are doomed to repeat it. But I think it is important to question the motives behind any kind of dark tourism, to be aware of the aspects of sensationalism and spectacle embedded in it.

You should google "dark tourism" and see what comes up. One site promotes a Charlie Manson tour of LA (visiting the places his "family" committed those infamous murders). You can visit the "killing fields" in Cambodia or tour the war-torn cities in Bosnia. One article divides dark tourism into five subcategories: grief tourism, disaster tourism, suicide tourism, poverty tourism, and doomsday tourism. It's a fascinating topic (perhaps morbidly fascinating?).

Guatemala Argentina Connection

A friend recently sent me an interesting editorial from the Argentine newspaper Página 12 that I wanted to share with you all. You can read the full article (in Spanish) here. The article neatly dovetails into my own research, and reinforced for me the reason why this topic is so interesting. The reference (for those of you keeping track) is: Natanson, José. "Inseguridad y política." Página 12 January 23, 2011. I should note here that the word inseguridad literally translates to "insecurity," but not in the way that most of us think of insecurity. This is not the idea that someone is not confident in themselves. Here, insecurity means not safe. There is probably a better way to translate this word so that this meaning of "not safe" comes through, but for the sake of time I'll keep using "insecurity."

To introduce the topic, Natanson writes, "Last week's episodes of insecurity reactivated the debate over lowering the age of criminal responsibility...and the laws that apply to [minors]. Like a plague, this topic disappears and reappears from time to time, with nuances that change according to the moment and the political-electoral debate." Already, I like where this is going. Not, of course, that there was some kind of crime that shocked the country. Apparently, Governor of the Province of Buenos Aires brought up the issue of lowering the age of criminal responsibility in the aftermath of a highly publicized murder committed by a fifteen year old. What I like about this is that Natanson is expressing something that I'm trying to talk about in my dissertation: that support of "iron fist" policies, such as lowering the age of criminal responsibility, comes and goes and often has to do with elections.

The article goes on to talk about the fact that, first and foremost, lowering the age of criminal responsibility has not been proven to have any impact on crime. He connects this policy with the zero tolerance policies of Giuliani in New York (rightly so) and points out many of the reasons why the apparent success of these policies disappear when you take a closer look--the reduction of crime in New York may have had more to do with rising economic prosperity and less to do with zero tolerance. He moves on from New York and travels south to Central America, where iron fist/zero tolerance policies have also been largely futile (and perhaps even counterproductive). Finally, someone else who makes the comparison between Central America and Argentina! He points out that Guatemala, El Salvador, and Honduras all have low age limits on criminal responsibility (children between 12 and 13 years can be charged with a crime) and have some of the highest homicide rates in the world. It's interesting to see such a comparison between Argentina and Central America. Whenever I talked about my project with (most) Argentines, they were shocked that there were places in Latin America that are more "dangerous" than Buenos Aires (with the possible exception of Rio de Janeiro in Brazil...because everyone has an idea that that city is dangerous, apparently).

But it was the analysis that followed that really drew my attention, and I'm going to do my best to translate it for you  here (please forgive the imperfect syntax, I translated this on the fly):

The politics of security in the province of Buenos Aires, the heart of the problem of insecurity in Argentina,  has been one of the most erratic and dangerous of all those implemented since the return to democracy, as a simple recounting of the ministers [of public security] shows: from León Arslanian to Carlos Ruckauf, passing to Juan Pablo Cafiero, to return again to Arslanian, until we arrive at Carlos Stornelli y Ricarco Casal. But let's break it down. It's necessary but relatively easy to debate against the defenders of penal poplulism; what is harder is to try to understand why progresivism has so many problems taking up the topic and offering if not a solution, then at least a proposal for a solution. The left always preferred to bypass the question of security: except for the two shortened terms of Arslanian in Buenos Aires and the applied focus of Hermes Binner when he assumed the governorship of Santa Fe, there are practically no relevant experiences of progressive politics of security. The fact that Kirchnerism, which has made change one of the keys to its political success, has taken seven years to make a strong showing of its willingness to change things reveals the difficulties of handling this issue. How do we explain this sloth? The logical rejection by the left of the use of repression, any form of repression, generated during the dictatorships, created a vacuum of knowledge that today has become costly. There are few experts that really know about this issue and that have any relationship with the police or some kind of accumulated experience: only a few, like Arslanian or Marcelo Saín, and a handful of institutions like CELS have dedicated themselves to systematically working on the question of security with a focus that is not mano dura (iron fist). 

To this historical rejection we must add a simplistic diagnosis--considering insecurity an automatic subproduct of poverty--which excludes any possibility of resolving this problem in the meantime. To say, as Pino Solanas said in the last electoral campaign, that the principal cause of insecurity is infant mortality is perhaps true, but it contributes little the debate over what to do about young murderers or chop shops or drug trafficking mafias entrenched in the slums, and there does not cease to be in the background the path of ingenious evasion of an issue for which it is difficult to take a concrete position. The problem is...those on the right have constructed an answer, certainly a wrong answer but an answer none the less, that provides a doctrine, a package of measures and all the paraphernalia of foundations and teams ready to apply it. It should not be a surprise that they are the ones that are ahead in the public debate.

However, here is a fact that is difficult to fit in this column. Insecurity does not define elections. Felipe Solá was reelected after designating Juan Pablo Cafiero, and Daniel Scioli was elected with an opposing discourse. Aníbal Ibarre was elected without a single proposal on this, and Mauricio Macre could be elected again even though he has not demonstrated great advances in the fight against crime. Insecurity was absent in the Kirchnerist platform in the presidential election of 2007 and despite this, Cristina won easily.  Carlos Ruckauf, the electorally successful case of mano dura most often mentioned, did not get into the 1999 provincial elections because of his promise to shoot thieves but because of electoral alchemy that permitted him to add the votes for Domingo Cavallo, without which he would have lost. This does not imply, of course, that insecurity is not an important social worry, but my hypothesis is that it does not win elections. Not yet.

 And that is what makes crime and insecurity such a fascinating topic for me. Citizens are concerned with crime in both Argentina and Guatemala, despite the huge differences in terms of aggregate levels of homicides, violent crime, etc. This is, of course, partially a matter of perspective. Knowing that Guatemala City can be more dangerous than Buenos Aires in terms of homicide rates does not make a person in Buenos Aires feel safer. But crime as a political issue varies greatly across Latin America. An expert on Venezuela recently told me that Hugo Chavez has made political statements about crime that takes the statement that poverty creates crime to the extreme, becoming an apologist for criminals (in essences saying, look, wouldn't you commit crime, too, if you were living as they do?) and putting off crime control efforts.  I haven't confirmed this myself, but I wouldn't be surprised. But how do you combat crime while still avoiding the repressive measures of past dictatorships and civil wars? Many countries in Latin America have dealt with crime (often labeled as political crime) through violent repression, and the mano dura policies now supported by the right are reminiscent of this brutal past. Populations who lived in terror of being picked up by military patrols are now supporting the return of military patrols to the streets. How do you get the public to support such efforts? How do you deal with these things in light of impunity, corruption, incompetence, and lack of resources?

*note: The photos of stencils included here were taken by a friend in Buenos Aires in June of 2010. Politically themed stencil graffiti has become a widely used art form, especially in the neighborhood of San Telmo and surrounding areas. The first one reads: "If memory doesn't exist, all that is ours is suicide." The second reads: "Never again?" Both of these are referencing the Dirty War in Argentina that left between 9,000 and 30,000 citizens dead (disappeared) following heavy repression from the military government. I am guessing that this first stencil is referring to the dictatorship even though it does not do so openly because the idea of memory was (and is) a widely discussed topic during the truth commissions investigation, during the trials against military officers for crimes against humanity, and even now that the amnesty given to military officers in the 1990s are now being overturned. The second one refers specifically to a slogan used by activists and human rights groups to support the truth commission charged with investigating the disappearances of political prisoners during the military period. I'm guessing this stencil is making a statement about political repression under democracy, particularly the (rumored) presence of death squads within the police. I included these photos because it brings into focus a very important part of this debate over crime control that is like the white elephant in the room for many: the past history of repressive policing and the blurry line between political and common crime, both in Argentina and in Central America.

Drug Cartels in Guatemala

I wanted to share this article from the Miami Herald with you, dear reader. It tells of the problem of drug cartels in Guatemala, and the turf war between the Zetas, a drug cartel born out of a Mexican army unit, and other Mexican cartels, including the Sinaloa cartel, that have a strong presence in Guatemala. Reports of Mexican drug traffickers moving down into Guatemala is not a new phenomena, but given the recent attention in the US press towards the drug war in Mexico, it makes sense that more outlets are starting to cover the story from the perspective of Guatemala.

The journalist covering this story introduces his piece by describing a Guatemalan friend who "spoke in hushed tones"* about a forced meeting between his family and the Zetas up in the norther department of Petén. Petén is a sparsely populated department covered by jungle that borders Mexico and Belize, and is home to the ancient Mayan city of Tikal, a popular tourist attraction. This story of a wealthy family meeting with drug cartels reminds me of a story I heard while talking with a Guatemalan acquaintance about people's support for harsh policing practices proposed by one of the major political parties, the Patriot Party (Partido Patriota, PP). He told be about how is family used to live on a finca (a large ranch in the countryside) in one of the northern departments. One day he found an envelope full of cash on his doorstep addressed to him. He knew that many of his neighbors had been bullied into allowing drug traffickers to land small airplanes on their land in exchange for envelopes full of cash, and he got nervous. He decided to leave the envelope where it was, and the next day it was gone. But a few days later, another envelope appeared, with more cash. He left this one alone as well, and the pattern continued for weeks. Finally, he received a phone call threatening his wife and his children if he did not take the envelope. He told me that after that phone call, he sold his ranch and moved to the city with his family. He says that now he never lets his wife or his kids leave the house alone. They are always with him or accompanied by a bodyguard. I don't know how much of this story is true--I have no way of verifying it--but it is certainly interesting. I heard it in the summer of 2007, and the stories really haven't changed all that much. The drug cartels still have a relatively free hand (despite President Colom calling a state of siege in the department of Alta Verapaz), and corruption is rampant. To make things more complicated, it seems like at least some of the corruption is due to threats and extortion.

I wanted to point out a few other things in the Miami Herald article. First, interestingly, the writer mentions that, "Faced with such violence, a social movement to demand effective, capable law-enforcement and a transparent, non-corrupt judiciary has yet to emerge from Guatemala's fragile civil society."Which, from all that I've seen, is true. Yes, there are some (very good) NGOs and other activist groups that are focused on public security issues, impunity, police reform, etc., but there hasn't been a social movement to collect these disparate groups together. And I'm not sure (speaking as an outsider) if a cohesive, effective social movement in Guatemala is likely.

Second, the journalist writes,

In Guatemala, the cartels have found a country with a state designed to be weak and ineffective by a rapacious oligarchy. Only 15,000 soldiers and 26,000 police patrol its rugged terrain, though there are more than 100,000 active private security personnel. Scaled down after the country's 1996 peace accords following decades of atrocities, today's numerically small and poorly trained Guatemalan security forces have made way for the armed enforcers of the country's various criminal monarchies.

Is this a roundabout way of blaming the current security crisis on the Peace Accords? I don't think that is the writer's intention, but the paragraph starts to read that way. The Peace Accords scaled back Guatemala's military forces, true. And yes, there are many more private security forces than public security forces (a problem that is, of course, not unique to Guatemala). But is more soldiers on the streets the solution to the drug trafficking problem? The article does not mention, for example, that corruption also pervades the military and the police. But he is right in that they are poorly equipped. I remember reading a newspaper article last year about a request from the National Civil Police to be able to arm themselves with guns confiscated from drug traffickers. We also have to remember, too, that although soldiers are patrolling the streets and fighting drug traffickers, the armed forces are not the same as the police.

Update: there is also an article covering this issue at the Economist that covers not only Guatemala, but also El Salvador and Honduras. There's an interesting map that give homicide rates of each of the Central American countries. Despite the difficulties of using national homicide statistics, given different definitions of homicide (does it include traffic deaths?) and different collection techniques (and the possibility of outright lying), it is still shocking to see the difference between the "northern triangle" countries and the rest of Central America.

*Deibert, Michael. "Caught in the Crossfire." Miami Herald. January 18, 2011.