Today, many analysts view Michoacán as a failed state within a state where the rule of law can no longer be guaranteed by the government. This sad state of affairs has been brewing for over a decade and has deep structural roots. In truth, Michoacán has never been well governed, and the Tierra Caliente region known for its hot climate and fertile agriculture has always produced tough caciques. Unfortunately, in the last few years what once appeared to be a governable avocado and lime basket has proven to be ungovernable.
Organized crime in Michoacán from 2000 to 2014
The La Familia cartel announced its presence by rolling five severed heads onto a dance floor. Traffickers had been operating in the region years prior, but this was their first violent public announcement of their presence. The La Familia cartel was trained by Los Zetas, a hyper-violent cartel based in northeastern Mexico that still operated under the umbrella of the Gulf cartel in the mid-2000s. When La Familia turned on their former trainers, violence in the region surged. La Familia had learned their violent tactics from Los Zetas, but had also learned that taxing the local population through kidnapping and extortion could be as lucrative as the methamphetamine trade they specialized in. They portrayed themselves as the saviors and protectors of the people of Michoacán by capturing an accused rapist and crucifying him in public and through other acts designed to communicate to the local population that they were the real authority. Then-President Felipe Calderón, who hails from Michoacán, sent federal troops and federal police to pacify the region. While the news cycle may have left Michoacán, the region’s problems did not. After the leader of La Familia was killed, a new splinter group called La Caballeros Templarios emerged. The group was led by former La Familia leader La Tuta, a charismatic schoolteacher turned drug lord. They emerged in force sometime in 2011 and became the dominant players in the region.
Rise of the self-defense forces
By 2012, frustrated citizens began to form self-defense militias to fight the Caballeros Templarios. Interestingly, their complaints were not based on the flow of drugs or even the rampant extortion, but on the abuses of the population. Common themes in the paramilitary leadership talking points were the rapes and disappearances of local girls. Wealthy landowners whose land was seized by the Templarios further supported them. This provided a source of initial funding and organization for the forces. The various paramilitary groups now claim more than 20,000 members under arms and the ability to muster more than a 100,000 in a confrontation.
The Mexican government’s response
Over the last year, the Mexican government vacillated over how to deal with the emergence of self-defense forces. It appeared that the federal government was trying to have it both ways by allowing the forces to make progress against the Templarios while publicly criticizing them and denying their right to exist — probably to avoid criticism from the inevitable human rights violations that have plagued the use of paramilitaries in Latin America. Some government officials publicly feared the self-defense forces would morph into what they were fighting. Others — such as Miguel Ángel Osorio Chong, secretary of the interior — appeared more confident that the groups were not backed by rival cartels and that the government could vet the various groups.
The Peña Nieto administration entered office focused on economic and social reforms and determined not to fall into the security trap it believed the previous administration created. Scholars of Mexican security, such as David Shirk, have referred to the administration’s policy as the “ostrich strategy,” where the administration pretends the problem is not there and refuses to talk about it. The rise of the self-defense forces exposed the fantastical character of this strategy. The administration’s response was to legalize the forces by making them part of the rurales, a 19th century rural militia force that is supposed to answer to the army.
The problem
Based on recent statements from self-defense force leaders, the forces in Michoacán are funding themselves in the same fashion as the organized crime groups they have overthrown: through protection fees. Given the recent legalization of the self-defense forces by the Mexican government, this is a flawed approach to managing a large paramilitary force. To be sure, this is not the only source of self-defense force funding. As reported by the Los Angeles Times, the U.S. diaspora has also assisted the fight with more legitimate funds, but the use of protection fees sets a dangerous precedent that could turn the self-defense forces into a monster the Mexican government cannot control.
Policy recommendation
The Mexican government should immediately outlaw any extortion or the receipt of private sector security payments by self-defense forces and replace that revenue with salaries paid directly by the Mexican federal government through the army (SEDENA). The successful use of paramilitaries requires the maintenance of control and leverage by the host government. Without such leverage, the armed group can turn into yet another belligerent group in a dangerous ecosystem with no allegiance to the state. SEDENA needs to improve its institutional capacity to rapidly deliver these types of payments to the paramilitary forces in as regularized a fashion as possible. Initial payments can be made in cash to paramilitary leaders, but that payment structure should quickly transition to a regularized salary structure delivered to individual fighters through an electronic or debit card system.
Maintaining structural control over the paramilitaries also allows the Mexican government to monitor and punish human rights violations. Quick punishments through the withholding or cutting of salaries can send a message that human rights violations will not be tolerated, stopping them before they become endemic.
Paying the salaries of the self-defense forces will be expensive, but the costs of insecurity and lost tax revenues due to extortion are far greater. Cash is cheap; chaos is costly.
Nathan Jones is the Alfred C. Glassell III Postdoctoral Fellow in Drug Policy at the Baker Institute. His areas of interest include U.S.-Mexico security issues, illicit networks and cross-border flows. Follow him on Twitter at @natejudejones.