I’ve seen a lot of negative reviews here for this book, but I don’t see it myself - I thought it was a really interesting read. It was far more wide-ranging than I expected. The subtitle on my copy is “war along the borderline”, but this isn’t accurate at all. It’s less about drugs, and more about poverty, capitalism and globalisation, and I thought this made the book far more interesting. It’s a journalistic work - Vulliamy spent a number of years over an extended period travelling both sides of the US-Mexico border and speaking to people, and that’s what is in this book: his observations on what he sees and his conversations with people.
The book is structured as a journey from west to east, but it is not a story of one journey. The most interesting chapters are about people-smuggling, Ciudad Juarez (my goodness), and the maquiladoras. I also found the “intermission” about two retired US Border Patrol officers really interesting: two Vietnam veterans with an old-fashioned outlook, who used to ride the border on horseback, shooting it out with drug smugglers - it was so cliched but also like a modern Western, and a certain decency that seems lost.
The people-smuggling really brought out just how dangerous it is, but people still see it as a better option to seek better opportunities, compared to what they’re leaving. They’re exploited and brutalised by everyone along the way, including the ill-treatment if/when they are caught. It’s so tragic and highlights many wider problems - the solution so obviously is not to tighten the border security.
A number of chapters cover things going on in Juarez - reflecting the different things going on - and I found that all shocking, gripping, and compelling. The murder rate is high, but the brutality of it is what makes it most shocking. Some of it is drug-related, and this seems to be a tit-for-tat cycle of violence. Torture is endemic, brutal methods of killing, plus public displays of the bodies - especially hanging from bridges over the main highway, alongside messages. These are hung in broad daylight with no fear by the perpetrators. There is no fear of the police, because mostly the police are the drug cartels.
On top of the drug violence in Juarez, he describes a somewhat mysterious killing spree against the broken people of society: recovering addicts (drug use is understandably rife) and those with mental health problems. The author spends some time at a priest-run home for such people, in a very moving part, and the priest lives with the awareness that his institution could be next for a massacre of the broken. It’s not entirely clear why these massacres are happening, but there is a suggestion that perhaps it’s the army “cleaning up” society. But the extent of the brutal killing and often apparently without clear motivation is really shocking.
Then a “femicide” is also rife: widespread killing of women in Juarez. This seems to include prolific serial killers doing it because they can get away with it. Some of it also appears to be about emasculated men. Women seem to be more likely to have legitimate employment, especially in the appalling maquiladora factories, thereby bringing home the bread. Unless the men get involved with narcos, there’s not much for them to do, and that seems to bring out the worst as they respond to the lack of power.
Throw in the slums, crushing poverty, and the awful conditions working for a pittance to produce all kinds of things for the US, from clothes to car parts, and Juarez comes across as a hell on earth. If I knew that anything I was purchasing was produced in such conditions I would totally boycott it. I fear it’s not just Mexico.
I was also taken aback by the emptiness of Juarez. The descent into violence means that much of the housing is unoccupied - a staggering amount. And the unoccupied housing and neighbourhoods then become scenes to some of the other nightmares going on in Juarez. It comes across as post-apocalyptic. I don’t know if things have improved.
He covers attempts to unionise the maquiladora workers, and some of the successes that have been had. It’s not entirely a bleak story - throughout there are good people trying to make things better.
The final chapters cover Los Zetas and the eastern Gulf area. It was very clear that illegal smuggling goes in both directions: drugs north, and money and guns brought legally in the US travelling south, in staggering amounts.
I was struck on a number of occasions at the endemic corruption, including among US government officials. It seems relatively easy for cartel people to infiltrate US agencies, and even easier to turn someone: accept this huge amount of money to let things through the border, or we brutally kill your family. He meets with and speaks to a number of killers working for the cartels.
There are a number of underlying themes: the interconnections across the border (it’s clear that it’s a border area rather than a border line), and the effects of poverty and exploitation, and people with limited options. Capitalism does not come out of this book well at all - it seems to be the underlying problem with everything. In the book, it seems to start with privatisation of farmland in Mexico, generating crushing poverty for large sections of the population. Then there is the exploitation of so many workers, particularly in the factories, who don’t earn enough to live. The cartels then seem to be an example of extreme capitalism - which in turn feeds into the legitimate economy. Too many people are making too much money by exploiting the poor and vulnerable, often with violent consequences. I don’t recall that this is something he said explicitly, but it seemed an obvious conclusion from reading this book that the solution to fix all these problems was to fix the rampant capitalism. It’s perhaps unsurprising that the writer is a journalist for the left-leaning Guardian and Observer (and the book has its share of typos, like those newspapers used to be well-known for).
Looking through other reviews, it seems the criticisms of this book fall into two categories: that his Spanish is terrible and he mistranslates a lot, and that he’s a white guy writing this book, and especially that it’s a white showing off about all the dangerous places he has been. It’s hard for me to judge the first criticism about his Spanish language ability, as I don’t speak Spanish and hence don’t know if the translations he makes are accurate. However, I personally lost nothing from this - the book does not hinge on the translations he makes. It obviously does hinge on whether he understood the conversations he had. Personally I’m a bit sceptical that his Spanish is that bad - he has spent some 20 years visiting that part of the world and seems to cope well enough without an interpreter. On the second criticism about him being a white guy, I spent a lot of time thinking about. I personally think it would have been a better and more credible book if it had been written by someone Mexican. However, it was obvious to me that it would also be an incredibly risky book for a Mexican to write - people commenting publicly on the cartels, and on the Mexican police, army and government, are routinely killed. Further, a European author can approach the subject with a degree of impartiality that a Mexican or American might not be able to either (and it seems likely to make them more willing to talk to him too), so I don’t think the question of the author’s whiteness makes the book invalid or is a decisive criticism. He gives voice to a huge amount of people.
My own criticism of the book is that it stops in 2010, and I want to find out about the next 11 years, the interval between its publication and my reading it. There’s a real risk that the book is dated. However, this is inevitable, given that it took me so long to get round to reading it. One solution would be for him to write a follow-up, which I would certainly read. This is a moving and poignant book.