Al Grito de Guerra: the Second Mexican Revolution
- Thread starter Roberto El Rey
- Start date
Well, this was gonna happen. Like it or not, shipping tons of drugs up to your Northern neighbor wasn't gonna pass unnoticed. And now the bill is about to come due.
Bookmark1995
Banned
But who is that bill going to fall on?
Most likely the poor Mexicans terrorized by the cartels, and American poor who are terrorized by the DEA.
Now that's a surprise; I really thought you were setting up a Tsongas/Cisneros ticket, with the ultimate result to have Tsongas die in office and thus elevating Cisneros to POTUS. Reading that update, then, had me more confused as it went on (in a good way): "what do you mean Cisneros declined to be running mate? what do you mean Nader's running? what do you mean Bush won re-election?"
This is definitely the more intriguing direction, though. I'm really curious to see how Bush handles Mexico and other foreign affairs, since that was his forte and he doesn't need to worry much about politicking in his second term. And of course you've set it up perfectly for Cisneros '96…
This is definitely the more intriguing direction, though. I'm really curious to see how Bush handles Mexico and other foreign affairs, since that was his forte and he doesn't need to worry much about politicking in his second term. And of course you've set it up perfectly for Cisneros '96…
Bookmark1995
Banned
Probably the same: no help at all.
While today, the UN and others get an ass-chewing for letting Rwanda descend into madness, the reasons for non-interventions made pragmatic sense: the failure of the Mogadishu intervention meant that few wanted to get involved in another African quagmire.
Besides, Daddy Bush's attention is probably focused on the more closer to home mess brewing South of the border.
How in the world did I somehow think that Nader would just magically take Perot's place and win the race? With that aside, here's hoping that Bush will put Bartlett in his place and that Cisneros will become POTUS in 1996.
Except Bush Sr was more open to peacekeeping operations arguably than Clinton was. He sent forces into Somalia to begin with.
Bookmark1995
Banned
Yes. But his attention and energies are devoted to the crisis escalating South of the border.
OTL, he didn't care about Bosnia, so it is unlikely he'll give a damn about Rwanda.
It's a beautiful TL. I'm thinking what Pablo Escobar is doing: with this drug market escalation the most famous South American drug lord could succeeded in taking a stronger influence in Colombia. Also we saw as Mexican crisis averted Chavez coup in Venezuela but what about Guatemalan 1993 Costitutional Crisis? Guatemala is a border state with Mexico, probably receives many refugees, surely will be influenced by his neighbor events.
NATO didn’t get involved in Bosnia until after he left office and the war had barely kicked off by the time Clinton was elected.
I remain bemused by the apparent notion that Bush Sr was some sort of foreign policy genius. Every damn thing he got involved in went to crap and left his successors long term messes; I've long wondered whether the whole Somalia mess was something he committed to after his electoral doom was written on the wall and he just left it as a toxic tar baby for Clinton to be stuck with with, basically international trolling. He left Iraq a mess. Arguably Panama was not a mess, depending on one's values, but it was also a pretty trivial "accomplishment" for such a superpower as the USA. Russia became a mess. Yugoslavia spun into a freaking horror show.
Yep, that's some real Bismarckian brilliance on display there!
Yes, sarcasm.
Yep, that's some real Bismarckian brilliance on display there!
Yes, sarcasm.
Luckily I had a couple of days off! And only on one of those days did I stay up writing until 2 A.M.
Sadly, I can't say the same for the next update, which will be a narrative piece exploring the exchange between Bush and Bartlett. I only just started writing it today, and it will probably be a little while before it's finished. But you can all rest assured that the next update will be up as soon as possible.
I'm glad you were surprised! Hopefully it isn't the last surprise this story has in store.
No comment.
Ralph fucking Nader indeed. I definitely did take a couple cues from 2000 here, and you can bet that "Ralph Don't Run" will be an even more popular slogan in TTL.
Overall, not much different from OTL. The Dems picked up about a half-dozen House seats, bringing their total up to 272. They actually lost a Senate seat (Tsongas didn't have very long coattails in the South, so Fritz Hollings narrowly lost to Thomas Hartnett), but since they had 58 before it doesn't make much of a difference.
Thank you so much! Comments like these are part of what inspire me to continue working hard on this project even when I have much less time to devote than I once did!
I'll be honest, I really hadn't given that side of the world much (read: any) thought. If you guys are really interested to know how Rwanda and Somalia turn out, I can figure something out and try to work it into a future update, but for the time being, I'll have to ask you to use your imagination there.
As of TTL November 1992, Pablo Escobar's intercontinental drug enterprise is booming like never before. Though Escobar himself is supposedly serving a five-year prison sentence, the jail he custom-built for himself as part of his deal with the Colombian government is more palace than prison, and rumors persist that he's having people tortured and killed within its confines. The government wants to move Escobar to a different facility, but they fear than any law enforcement team sent to arrest him would come back in pieces. So for the time being, Escobar is still controlling the Latin American drug trade without much of anything slowing him down.
Guatemala actually hasn't been receiving that many refugees from Mexico, most Mexicans who leave have instead been going to the United States. The country is, however, very uneasy about having an insurgent, far-left state right on its doorstep, and the resulting wave of anti-communist sentiment has just barely prevented civil unrest from rising to the level that prompted Serrano's attempt at a self-coup in OTL. Guatemala is seething along in TTL 1992, quietly lobbying President Bartlett to quash the Zapatistas (not that he needs the extra pressure).
Canny as he was in some ways, Bush has his work cut out for him. Disentangling Mexican institutions from cartel influence would be a herculean task even for an honest President of Mexico, and Bush will be trying to get the corrupt leader of a foreign country to crack down on one of his most important political interests. A bit like asking your next-door neighbor who runs an unlicensed dog kennel to stop his dogs from shitting on your lawn. Still, he may find more success than we're expecting. With luck, it won't be too long before I get the next update finished and post it here for you all to find out!
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Bookmark1995
Banned
Well, it might be an issue even his own side of the aisle is not going to be able to ignore for very long.
OTL, Noriega's excesses were so bad, even Jesse Helms was willing to work with John Kerry to push Noriega out the door.
ITTL, we have a man who isn't merely taking bribes or just going through the motions in a corrupt system, but taking an active roll in cartels.
The man who brought "tough on crime" into the mainstream with the "Willie Horton" ad is in trouble if he can't stop the massive corruption permeating South of the border.
Narrative Interlude #6
November 28, 1992
Los Pinos, Bosque de Chapultepec
Mexico City, Federal District
Los Pinos, Bosque de Chapultepec
Mexico City, Federal District
“George, I share your concerns with the utmost solemnity: the drug trade is a menacing threat to order and security in both of our nations,” Manuel Bartlett proclaimed from the cushioned comfort of his presidential throne. “But I am already doing everything within my power to combat the cartels.”
George Bush stared, baffled, at the bespectacled Mexican. He probed the ludicrous statement but detected no irony, no hidden meaning, no coy invitation to press on. Does he actually think he’s fooling me?
Bush looked around him for a moment. Everything in the Mexican President’s private study was reflective: the elegant mosaic of floor tiles buffed to a mirrorlike shine, the satin tricolor imbued with an imperial sheen, the ubiquitous cherry oak paneling that clung to every surface and was varnished almost to the point of impracticability. Every inch of the room, Bush realized, was specifically designed to throw light into the eyes of its occupants, to blind them with gaudy shows of grandeur.
Bush drew in a sharp breath. Okay, Manny. We can play this game if you want to.
“I appreciate everything you’ve accomplished so far, Manuel,” he lied. “But I think if we work together, we can turn both of our countries into much safer places. My government would be happy to share intelligence on cartel members and their movements, and I’m prepared to contribute at least two teams of federal narcotics inspectors to assist in their apprehension.”
The thought of nosy DEA agents poking around states where he had installed "associate" governors sent Bartlett into a momentary panic attack, but he suppressed it in time to give a fittingly stoic response: “While I welcome any new information concerning the cartels and their activities, no American should ever have to risk his life pursuing Mexican criminals.”
Bush found it ironic to hear such magnanimous words coming from a man who had once tried to cover up the murder of a DEA agent to save his own ass. [1] Bush's patience for the game was rapidly draining, but he had no chance to cut in because Bartlett had already started his pitch.
“You see, George, if my government had the resources to go after the cartels, they would have gone extinct by week two of my administration. Our problem isn’t intelligence or manpower; it’s funding,” he explained. “As you’re most surely aware, the most infamous kingpins have used their vast riches to construct enormous legal barriers that shield them from all forms of punishment. And the only way to topple those walls of money is with battering rams of...uh…m-money,” he concluded, cringing slightly at the way he’d fumbled his own metaphor.
But the momentary look of embarrassment quickly changed to one of decisiveness as Bartlett clasped his hands together, slammed them with a thud on the varnished wood of the desktop and leaned forward to stare his guest straight in the eyes.
“My Defense Secretariat informs me that to defeat the cartels within a decade—not just to dispose of their leadership, but to salt the earth from which they sprang—will cost as much as twelve billion dollars every year. And yet we toil to come up with even a third of that sum because we must sacrifice so much of our budget upon the pagan altar of debt repayments,” he continued, accentuating every consonant like Laurence Olivier in a particularly dull reimagining of Hamlet.
“Last year, as you’ll surely recall, my government paid yours well over four billion dollars in return for the loan so generously extended to us by your predecessor. But it may surprise you to hear that, because of that obligation, we barely had three billion dollars left over this year to fight the cartels. It should be obvious how hard-pressed we are to mount a real counter-offensive against these menaces when so much of our annual budget goes directly into your government’s pockets!” Bartlett declared, oblivious to the droplet of spit that flew from his lip to Bush’s nose as he pronounced the p in ‘pockets’.
Bush wiped off the saliva with a discreet flick of the finger. Going into this conference, he hadn’t been expecting a master of Platonic diplomacy, and yet he was growing astonished by the bespectacled Mexican President’s lack of tact. Against his better judgement, he decided to give Bartlett one last chance: “Are you suggesting,” he asked, evenly extracting the ice from his tone, “that we help your administration find a more sustainable means of servicing its debt?”
“I am merely suggesting, Mr. President,” Bartlett replied as he leaned back into his armchair with all the self-satisfied condescension of a retired philosophy professor, “that you may be surprised how well it would serve America’s long-term interests if Mexico were relieved of some of its monetary obligations in order to focus every possible resource on securing a final and decisive victory over the cartels.”
And there it went.
Sighing, Bush deposited his elbows onto the ancient desk and leaned forward to meet his adversary. “You know, Manuel, I’m not at all surprised that you would suggest such a thing,” he replied. “After all, your government has already been acting as though it were relieved of its monetary obligations for several years now.” Now it was Bush’s turn to stare Bartlett through the eyes.
“It’s true your government paid mine four billion dollars last year,” Bush continued. “What you seem to have forgotten is that you owed us five billion—and that was after my administration agreed to forgive almost twenty percent of your outstanding debt two years ago.” The gloves were coming off now. “I remember when Secretary Baker asked your ambassador why you needed the money so badly, he said ‘communist subversion’. It was so soon after poor Carlos bit it, I didn’t ask too many questions,” he recalled with seemingly genuine regret over the younger Salinas brother’s death. “Perhaps,” he said, glaring, “I should have.”
Bartlett shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Bush leaned in further.
“And another thing: this report of yours, the one that puts a twelve-billion-dollar price tag on confronting the cartels? That’s one hell of a number, I’ll give you that. But a few months ago, I had the DEA draw up a report of its own, and it estimates that as many as thirty-nine percent of the officers in your Federal Security Directorate—which, I’m to understand, is chiefly responsible for fighting your side of the Drug War—double as enforcers for their friendly neighborhood cartels. And, what’s more, twenty-seven centavos of every peso your government spends on fighting the cartels ends up finding its way into Miguel Caro or Amado Carrillo’s pocket. Now, I can’t in good conscience ask the American people to foot the bill for a crackdown when more than a quarter of that money will be used to funnel more drugs into their neighborhoods and schools.”
He leaned forward even further.
“The fact is, Manuel, you know as well as I do that your entire security system is one giant shitshow. It might be convenient to sweep that shitshow under the rug and pretend it doesn’t exist, but you’re not fooling me or anyone else with two brain cells to rub together.” Bartlett grabbed the seat of his throne and gripped it until his knuckles went white; the two world leaders were almost kissing now. “You want less debt, Manuel? Earn it. Set an example. Put two or three hundred of your federal agents behind bars, then we can discuss debt reductions. But until you get your house in order, the only thing I want to hear out of you is 'check’s in the mail, George!’”
Bartlett suddenly realized he was trembling. Still staring Bush in the eyes, he took a few deep breaths to steady himself. Then, like a cowboy trying to draw his gun without spooking a rattlesnake, he reached into his desk, opened a chiseled, cherry-paneled drawer which dated to the 1830s, pulled out an olive-green rectangle and handed it to Bush. “Do you know what this is, George?”
Bush examined the object in his hand. It was a swatch of olive-green fabric wrapped around a rigid, rectangular frame; three bars and a wreathed shield were embroidered onto it in yellow thread. He had a pretty good idea of what it was, but somehow found himself morbidly interested enough to hear Bartlett’s explanation.
“Enlighten me.”
“What you are holding in your hand is an epaulet torn from the uniform of a sergeant in the Cuban Army.”
Bush had to suppress the urge to scoff. So what? The Cubans are helping the rebels down south? Bush had known that even before the Mexican Army was routed at the Battle of San Cristóbal. If Bartlett meant this to be his big reveal, Bush was thoroughly unimpressed.
“A Federal Security Directorate fireteam discovered this while raiding an ELM hideout in northern Tamaulipas.”
Hang on—Tamaulipas? Bush had never had much of a mind for geography, but wasn’t that awfully far from Zapatista territory and awfully close to American territory?
“These roving packs of schoolboys were enough of a nuisance when the Cubans were just shipping them arms. I’m sure you’ll remember how much blood they spilled during their little ‘rebellions’ three Decembers ago,” Bartlett said, recalling the dozens of towns in Guerrero and Michoacán which had been taken over by ELM militias following the rigged municipal elections of 1989. “And those were planned with little, if any, direct involvement from the Cuban high command. Then, last February, when Havana sent its own men to do the dirty work, twenty-one Mexican citizens across four states were systematically murdered within a single night.” Bush did indeed remember the Night of the Long Guns. He remembered assuming that the Cubans were somehow involved, but as long as they kept a good distance from the border, he’d felt that the cost of an intervention would have far outweighed its benefits.
“Nothing in this particular rathole," Bartlett continued, motioning to the insignia in Bush’s hand, "gave any indication of what exactly our friend Fidel is planning next. But the fact remains that it was located only thirty-four miles from the Rio Grande. The only reason I see for a Cuban soldier to be meddling so close to the border is if their next target is American property, or worse—American citizens.” Bush, to his own chagrin, had drawn the same conclusion.
“Now, I am doing everything I can to mitigate the threat posed by these terrorists. But, because the various state police agencies are chronically underfunded, and the Army is currently undergoing a rigorous regimen of…” (Bartlett trailed off for a moment as he cringed in remembrance of the humiliation at San Cristóbal) “…retraining, the Federal Security Directorate—corrupt though some of its members may be—is the last line of defense against the insurgents. As you can see, the DFS has thus far been highly effective at locating and destroying rebel hideouts. But they are effective only as long as they are loyal, and they are loyal only as long as they can reap the financial spoils of their power. Exploitation of office for monetary gain is an odious, but nevertheless an integral, part of Mexican political culture,” he claimed, hoping the appeal to stereotype would soften Bush’s ardor, “and many of my security agents have simply grown accustomed to profiting off the drug trade. To be frank, with Mexico as cash-strapped as it is today, some might struggle to feed their families without the extra pesos,” he explained in what he imagined was a meaningful tone.
“I am fighting this corruption,” he continued. “In the past three months, no fewer than seventy-eight DFS agents have been guided into very quiet retirements, as have cartel collaborators from every sector of public life. But if, as you demand, I purge my agents with all the ruthlessness of Stalin, then the entire Directorate will fall apart. Hundreds of agents will disappear into prison cells, while hundreds more, fleeing that ignoble fate, will abandon the Directorate entirely and devote their talents full-time to the drug trade. The cartels will hardly see a dent in their profit margins. My government, meanwhile will be left without a functioning security apparatus and there will be no one left to stand between communist terrorists and innocent civilians—civilians who, if I may remind you,” he said, pointing once again to the dogtag in Bush’s hand, “may not all be Mexican.”
Without breaking from Bartlett’s stare, Bush ran his thumb across the battered strip of metal, feeling the scratches and dents etched in over years of loyal service to a lost cause. I have to be corrupt, or else the dirty commies’ll get us! He’d heard Mobutu give that excuse half a dozen times, and he was getting mighty tired of it. It was clear to Bush that the real reason Bartlett refused to get serious with the DFS was that he wanted as many men with guns as possible on his side when 80 million angry Mexicans showed up at his door with torches and pitchforks.
And—he realized to his own disgust—Bush wanted that too. The political opposition in Mexico was so powerless and divided that if Bartlett and his coterie were overthrown, they would leave a power vacuum as wide as the Gulf of Mexico. At best, the Army would take over and maintain some semblance of order, at the cost of whatever paltry rights and freedoms the Mexican people still had left. At worst, the entire country would fall into chaos—a scenario that would threaten U.S. interests so severely that Bush would have no other choice (according to Secretary Cheney, at least) but to order a full-scale military intervention.
The whole thing sickened him. As the first post-Cold War President, Bush had hoped he could put an end to the odious practice of cozying up to dictators just because they were on the “right” side of the fence. And yet, here he was, playing diplomatic footsie with a tinpot tyrant. Before he left Mexico City, Bush would be sure to pay a visit to the Embassy and instruct Ambassador Negroponte to begin profiling potential opposition candidates for the presidential election of 1994. As soon as he got back to Washington, he would ask Secretary Baker to start feeling out ways to get Bartlett thrown out on his ass next July. But, for the moment, it would be foolish to force Bartlett to antagonize his own security forces with things as unstable as they were.
Bush realized that he had allowed his eyes to sink down to the dogtag in his hand. Upon reestablishing eye contact, he was unfazed to see Bartlett still trying to pierce him with his stare. Circumstance may have turned him into this year’s lesser evil, but that certainly didn’t give him a free pass to let the cartels treat his country like their private playground.
“All I’m asking of you, Manuel, is to be a leader. Deal with the cartels. Start putting kingpins behind bars, and once they’re there, keep ‘em there. I don’t care how you do it,” Bush declared, narrow-arrow-eyed, almost growling, “but if you don’t, my administration will find it a whole hell of a lot harder to overlook the next time your check comes up a billion dollars short.”
Bartlett leaned back, relishing the instruction. For the first time since the beginning of the conversation, he broke gaze with Bush, allowing his eyes to wander around his office and admire all the exquisite little details purpose-built, as the American President himself had noticed, to deflect, distract and conceal. Despite his own diplomatic incompetence, he'd heard what he'd been hoping to hear. So Bush didn’t care how he intended to go about imprisoning top cartel leaders?
Good, he thought, his outward, stony expression concealing an inward, devilish grin. He wouldn’t like it if he knew.
__________
[1] At this point in OTL as well as in TTL, it was still a well-kept secret that Manuel Bartlett had been directly involved in planning the murder of Kiki Camarena. Bush is well aware that Bartlett tried to cover up Camarena’s death, but he thinks that Bartlett (who, at the time, was in charge of the DFS in his capacity as Government Secretary) only found out about the murder after it happened, and subsequently covered it up to protect his political career. So Bush knows that Bartlett is a corrupt bastard, but thinks he's corrupt more in the sense of "cover-your-ass-by-any-means-necessary" than of "making-crooked-deals-with-actual-international-crime-lords".
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Wait, did Bartlett just implicitly ask for a bribe to line his own pockets as he runs a narco empire?
...credit for balls, if not a lick of sense.
...credit for balls, if not a lick of sense.
Bookmark1995
Banned
Not just that: debt forgiveness as well.
I don't think Bartlett has balls or a lack of common sense. In his own mind, Bartlett believes he can play both the drug cartels and the CIA to his own gain and make himself indispensable to their goals. Or, what he believes their goals are.
And to a small extant...he isn't wrong.
As @Shevek23 pointed out, American foreign policy is pretty amoral. The US has (and still does) tolerate evil because the evil kowtows to the interests of American foreign policy. Whether it is fighting terrorists or funneling oil to the US.
Bush went into the meeting hoping he could press Bartlett into doubling down on cartels. Bartlett, however, has successively planted into Bush a scenario that is more horrific then a blatantly corrupt Mexico: a Mexico plunged into civil war/military rule. Bush, like any world leader, prefers stability over a costly intervention. So, for now, Bush is stuck dealing with Bartlett as the man who can "keep order."
Make no mistake, though: Bartlett is a fool is he thought he could pull one over the man who RAN the CIA, thinking even the smallest presence of Cuban soldiers can make Bush work with him. He is also a fool if he thinks he can make the cartels into a loyal fighting force.
While Bush will back a man who can keep the peace, he won't back the person who is not only failing to keep the peace, but is actively making the situation worse.
Bartlett, corrupt asshole that he is, will likely make the situation worse as he seeks to maintain his own power and prestige. And his failure isn't something the American public will take kindly, since Mexico and its troubles are quite close to the US.
If he is seen as part of the problem, Bush will be more likely to show him the door.
I wasn't expecting a chapter today, but it is a welcoming one.
Though I did expect Bush and Bartlett to talk about Cartels and Cubans, I didn't expect them to ignore the Zapatistas, given that Mexico is on the verge of civil war or at the very least societal collapse.
Still, everything is going to tumble down, sooner or later, Mexico is a house of cards, kept only aloft only by Manuel and the PRI dictatorial reign.
And the Mexican People and some in the Army are getting sick and tired of it. Won't be long now.
Though I did expect Bush and Bartlett to talk about Cartels and Cubans, I didn't expect them to ignore the Zapatistas, given that Mexico is on the verge of civil war or at the very least societal collapse.
Still, everything is going to tumble down, sooner or later, Mexico is a house of cards, kept only aloft only by Manuel and the PRI dictatorial reign.
And the Mexican People and some in the Army are getting sick and tired of it. Won't be long now.