By: Michael Ingram
Melissa Plancarte struts around in revealing clothing, leads a lavish lifestyle, and promotes herself fervently on social media. A young woman from the state of Michoacán, she aspires to be the next Latin American pop star and fits the profile too. Despite her gregarious persona, she is now causing a backlash in Mexico, and not for the most obvious of reasons. Unlike all the ire directed against Miley Cyrus, Melissa sparks anger over her wearing of a large red cross in her personal “selfies”. Seems fairly innocuous by American standards? Except for the cross she bears is none other than the insignia of the Knights Templar cartel.
Melissa Plancarte is the daughter of Enrique Plancarte Solís. He, along with six other men, leads the Knights Templar Cartel. Formed from the remnants of La Familia Michoacana, a quasi-religious cartel operating in the western part of Mexico, the Knights Templar are instrumental in the continuing destabilization of the Mexican state. Both La Familia and now the Knights Templar owe their initial success to methamphetamine manufacturing. In addition to their drug production, a cultish sense of divine social justice pervades the organization, where Cartel leaders commit murder in the name of righteousness. While most Mexican citizens are mired in poverty and violence, Plancarte Solís’ daughter and many other “narco-children” broadcast their ill-begotten wealth on social networks. Mexican citizens are understandably outraged, but there is little hope that their anger will be rewarded. The case of Melissa Plancarte paints a surrealist picture of how the drug war has been and continues to turn reality on its head in Mexico. But the cartel princess is only a piece of the Dalí-esque puzzle.
In America, the case of the cartel princess might inspire shrugs of ambivalence or shock. 60,000 people have died since the onset of the government offensive against cartels in 2006, and there seems to be no end in sight. The material wealth of the cartels might not be astonishing, but their audacity is. In many Mexican states, law and order have been diminished to the point of bad Sunday morning cartoon punchlines. The Mexican military has been mobilized to blunt the terror inflicted by the cartels, but in the wake of conflict comes corruption. Economic issues still plague many rural areas of the country, exacerbating the corruption problem. As cartels bring much needed cash flow, they also offer better benefits for law enforcement than the country they have sworn to protect. No wonder this pop star has the same origins as the majority of the U.S.’ cocaine.
So while the Mexican government is fighting a losing battle, besieged citizens are taking matters into their own hands. Specifically, they are taking arms into their own hands. Since February 2013, the people of Michoacán have formed “self-defense” groups. The decision to mobilize was an easy one. The Knights Templar concern themselves with many profitable endeavors, yet not all involve smuggling drugs and waging war against the Mexican state. The innocent Michoacanos often find themselves in the crosshairs of their supposed protectors. Extortion is the name of the game, and everything from small farms to public offices and schools are shaken down. It is easy to understand why the average person would be fed up with the lawlessness.
Vigilante justice is now taking the fight to the cartels. The vigilantes are a diverse group; rural rancheros mesh with businessmen in the goal of beating back the drug war nightmare. The self-defense forces are forming a new front in the hostilities, and they have been having success. They set up roadblocks and post guards to villages. Liberation of businesses is a high priority. One such example is the city of Zamora, where vigilantes broke the choke hold of extortion faced by gas stations and other pillars of the local economy. Active protection vents the frustration of the vigilantes and circumvents the failure of mistrusted institutions. In the eyes of President Enrique Peña Nieto’s administration, however, the vigilantes pose yet another problem in the security migraine that is Mexico.
Michoacán was the site of the initial escalation of the anti-cartel war begun by former President of Mexico Felipe Calderón in 2006. President Peña Nieto sought to continue the war bolstered by renewed investment in social services, but in May 2013, he sent a surge of troops into the state to reestablish security. The efforts of security forces have not only been spent on the cartels, instead vigilantes found themselves on the government’s radar. Paradoxically, the government aims to disarm the vigilantes who served as the only viable barrier between peace and cartel-driven chaos. In the process, the government now joins the cartels as butchers of vigilantes.
The problem of disarming the vigilantes, like many of Mexico’s issues, has been more difficult than anticipated. As government troops poured into the heartlands of Michoacán, citizens and vigilantes alike stood in the way of state intervention. Antúnez, Mexico , where embattled citizens and soldiers clashed, quickly became violent as demands for dispersal allegedly devolved into soldiers firing into a crowd of citizens they were sent to protect. Such tragedy has become commonplace in the drug war, but the Mexican government faces some tough decisions on the future of the vigilante bands.
The reasons behind the rise of the vigilantes are relatively clear, yet the composition of these groups remains mysterious. The armed bands roam the countryside with a simple message of join or die at the hands of the cartel. Comprised in part of disillusioned citizens, the vigilantes may have a much darker side. The drug war is asymmetrical, and the cartels play by no rules. The cartels fight one another as fiercely as they fight the military; fear runs rampant that rival cartels form a vital piece of the vigilante body. In this case, the struggle for safety may be hijacked for reasons of inter-gang retaliation.
Cartel infiltration spells disaster for responsible protection of the innocent, but the looming shadow of the future prompts larger questions about the role vigilantes play. Inaction from the central government gave birth to the need for vigilantism, but this anti-government resentment could persist much longer than the drug war. The vigilantes have no formal training, and most importantly, a diminishing allegiance to the United States of Mexico. The short-term goal of safety may one day give way to extended insurgency.
The Mexican government faces an impossibly unpleasant decision. The drug war has been an engine for destruction in Mexico; neither military offensives nor lofty social solutions have defanged the conflict. Mexico may be forced to gamble on future stability to avoid losing complete control of rural areas. The best hope lies in the military working to discern a good vigilante from a cartel imposter. If the military were to work in conjunction with the vigilantes and then implement the gradual disarming of fighters in liberated areas, then the situation may possibly be controlled. The central government is also stepping up to the plate with $3.4 billion worth of investment in the state of Michoacán. The money is set to placate weary citizens with scholarships, pensions, and infrastructure. Building the beleaguered economy is a step in the right direction, but stimulus cannot stop bullets.
Presently, Michoacán persists in mayhem as the Knights Templar inverts reality. They make enough money to start celebrity excursions for their children, but damn their own neighbors to death and vigilantism. Michoacán exemplifies the absurdity of the drug war in all of Mexico. The fact that violence inundates our neighbor to the south should be taken seriously. This is not to say Mexico’s war threatens to seep into the Southwest, but a prosperous and stable Mexico is infinitely more beneficial to the United States than one in a virtually endless civil war. The rise of cartel-funded pop stars and bands of vigilantes may seem more fiction than fact, but this is happening not a world away but adjacent to all of us. The drug war in Mexico has no easy solutions, but the situation is out of hand and has been for several years. Perhaps the best course of action is to invest in alternatives. The path we have chosen not only gave rise to the drug war but gives it staying power ad nauseam.
