Blogs

Latin America’s Moment

Latin America’s Moment analyzes economic, political, and social issues and trends throughout the Western Hemisphere.

Latest Post

An illegal gold mining camp is discovered in Madre de Díos during a Peruvian military operation in 2019.
An illegal gold mining camp is discovered in Madre de Díos during a Peruvian military operation in 2019. Guadalupe Pardo/Reuters

Illegal Gold Finances Latin America’s Dictators & Cartels. The United States Must Lead the Fight Against It.

Four policy ideas to curb illegal gold mining in the Western Hemisphere.

Read More
United States
Measuring Mexico’s Social Cohesion
Social cohesion, or the strength of a country’s social fabric, is often raised in discussions of security. The World Bank describes it as “fundamental for societies to progress towards development goals,” and for making countries more resilient to bloodshed. In Mexico, policymakers argue social cohesion is both a casualty and a solution for reducing violence. To measure these ties, the think tank México Evalúa constructed the Neighborhood Social Cohesion Index (ICSV). They canvassed four housing complexes scattered throughout Mexico—many isolated, without public services, and composed of poorer households with limited education. The residents were asked to rate their communities on a low to high scale of one to ten in terms of social identity, trust between neighbors, a sense of belonging, and engagement in the community. The four ratings were averaged to produce an aggregate score. Social cohesion in all four communities ranged between 5.1 and 5.4 on the index, indicating that Mexico’s social fabric is not entirely broken, even in these difficult surroundings. In every community a strong sense of belonging and shared identity persisted, even when community engagement lagged. The polls found hope for the future, with nearly nine in ten neighbors saying that if encouraged, they would be “willing to work for the benefit of their community.” The survey also explored the causal links between social cohesion and perceptions of insecurity. Those communities that were rated more cohesive tended to feel safer, and vice-versa. Perceptions of insecurity were high overall: only 12 percent of residents said they would let their children walk alone in their neighborhood, fewer than a third would walk themselves alone at night. One of the pillars of the Mérida Initiative, the main vehicle for U.S.-Mexico security cooperation over the last decade, focuses on building “stronger and more resilient communities.” On the ground, this money has gone to after school programs, citizen watchdogs in law enforcement offices, and creating and expanding drug treatment courts, among other programs. México Evalúa’s survey suggests that expanding basic public services and cleaning up public parks would strengthen communities, as would actively recruiting neighbors to get involved in local events and activities. The Mexican and U.S. governments should use measures such as the Neighborhood Social Cohesion Index both before and after they invest more in fragile communities, to help determine which of the dozens of potential programs actually make things better.
Immigration and Migration
Migration From Central America Rising
Central America’s Northern Triangle is one of the most violent regions in the world. Last year’s murder rate of roughly 54 per 100,000 inhabitants surpasses Iraq’s civilian death toll. El Salvador alone registered 103 homicides per 100,000—making it the deadliest peacetime country. While victims are often young men, women and children die too. Kids face a murder rate of 27 per 100,000 in El Salvador—making the country as dangerous for elementary and middle schoolers as it is for an adult in the toughest neighborhoods of Detroit or New Orleans. Its neighbors Honduras and Guatemala are also among not just Latin America’s but the world’s most dangerous nations. This violence is one of the main factors driving massive migration. In 2014, U.S. border patrol detained a record 239,000 Central Americans on the southern border. In 2015, this figure fell, in large part because Mexico stopped those leaving—sending back some 150,000 migrants caught along its border with Guatemala. In the last three plus years over 136,000 unaccompanied minors and 140,000 more family members have come north—enough to populate Cincinnati. Tens of thousands are fleeing to neighboring countries—Mexico, Panama, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Belize have all seen asylum applications skyrocket. Less than five months into 2016, 56,000 new unaccompanied minors and others are already in U.S. custody, suggesting another record surge in the making. The challenges facing Central America won’t diminish soon, meaning migration flows to the United States and elsewhere won’t end. Proposed solutions—strengthening public prosecutors, training police, cleaning up prisons, building community centers, and developing alternative jobs programs —will only make a difference in the medium to longer term. And though the U.S. Congress has approved $750 million for programs to reduce violence and boost economic development, those taking a historical perspective know this isn’t the first time the United States and others have tried to buttress these fragile nations, with few results. Yet what might be different this time comes from these societies themselves. Even as many justifiably flee, other Central Americans (notably not many of their elites, at least yet) are raising their voices against the poverty, inequality, corruption, and violence. Investigative journalists, armed with freedom of information acts, digital paper trails (such as the Panama papers), and other tools within these budding democracies have uncovered deep-seated corruption—including powerful Guatemalan politicians using their office for personal gain, and the expansive ties between Honduran elites and organized crime. Local prosecutors and judges too have stepped up to make sure justice is done, even if it involves the powerful. In Guatemala, the attorney general—working closely with the International Commission Against Impunity in Guatemala (CICIG)—brought down the former president and vice president for running a customs fraud scheme. El Salvador’s Supreme Court is going after two former presidents for graft. And citizen protests have grown. In Guatemala, the peaceful demonstrations by tens of thousands led to the resignation of President Otto Pérez Molina. In Honduras, citizen outrage over $200 million missing from the social security system forced the government to accept a new Mission Against Corruption and Impunity in Honduras, modeled after CICIG, to investigate that and other alleged wrongdoings. Ongoing protests following the assassination of environmental and indigenous activist Berta Cáceres are forcing the government to investigate. These steps, while fledgling, could matter for these nations’ future. Their successes or failures will also likely matter in shaping future decisions to exit—through migration—or to stay and raise one’s voice, for change at home.
Peru
The Significance of Peru’s June 5 Election
While the world is distracted by Brazil’s impeachment drama, Venezuela’s impending meltdown, and Cuba’s promising détente with Washington, a potentially significant election campaign is underway in Peru that may have long-term implications for the success of the region’s “right turn.” Two candidates with robust neoliberal credentials are neck and neck in the second round contest that will take take place on June 5, and will determine who governs the country through 2021. Perhaps because of the similarities in the likely economic policies of the two contenders, not much foreign media attention has been focused on the election: regardless of who wins, Peru seems likely to continue with outward looking initiatives, such as the Trans-Pacific Partnership and the Pacific Alliance, while practicing market-friendly policies at home. But precisely because the economic policies of the two candidates are so similar—prominent Peruvian columnist and political scientist Alberto Vergara notes that whichever candidate governs Peru beginning in late July, their cabinet will be composed of technocrats who could serve their rival—observers have not focused on the underlying significance of this election to the democratic legitimacy of Latin America’s new rightward turn. The election takes place against the backdrop of the commodity bust that has diminished President Ollanta Humala to virtual insignificance (his approval ratings are under 15 percent), and a fractious party system, organized—to the extent that it is organized at all—around the legacy of disgraced and jailed President Alberto Fujimori. Fujimori, who governed by electoral and then authoritarian means from 1990 to 2000, and whose daughter, Keiko Fujimori of the Fuerza Popular (FP) won almost 40 percent in the first round of voting, famously vanquished the Sendero Luminoso and then was himself vanquished by revelations of massive corruption and human rights abuses. But the fact that Fujimori’s legacy is the lodestar that provides the basic orientation of the electoral contest does not mean that anti-Fujimorismo is an orderly or organized opposition. Indeed, Peru’s 21 million voters fragmented in the first round between a variety of inchoate political forces. Most organized were those of Pedro Pablo Kuczynski (PPK) of the PPK party and Verónika Mendoza of the left-leaning Frente Amplio, who competed in a nail-biting race for second place, in which PPK triumphed by 20.1 percent to Mendoza’s 18.8 percent. Following them in the electoral lists were a panoply of other candidates, some of whom were disqualified by the electoral court at the last minute, and others who garnered single-digit returns. PPK’s second place finish behind Keiko Fujimori means that the central debate of the second round has been around public security and family life issues, such as same sex marriage and abortion rights. But the fragmentation of the opposition in the first round meant that the election will to some extent be a referendum on the desired strength of checks and balances. If Fujimori wins, her Fuerza Popular will control Congress (73 of 130 seats), a majority that she could presumably use to pardon her father, or worse yet, to stack the judiciary, electoral bodies, or other oversight agencies. Understandably, Fujimori has done everything possible to downplay such possibilities, but there is a strong credible commitment problem at work: if she wins, there may be little constraint on her worst inclinations, whatever those might be. The Keiko campaign has understandably taken every opportunity to make the point that she is not her father, that the battles of the old generation must be buried, and that the mafia-authoritarianism of the 1990s has been left behind. She has stressed her commitment to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and emphasized her democratic credentials at every step of the process. Oddly, PPK’s campaign has not been successful in pushing this narrative, and ominously for his chances, PPK’s own rejection rates have risen even as Keiko’s fell. Part of the problem is that PPK was himself running a deeply personalistic campaign—his party shares his own initials, after all—and he has had to dilute his own message in the second round to bring on board the disparate anti-Fujimori forces to his left. Also damaging is the fact that PPK himself openly supported Keiko in the 2011 runoff against Humala. The central PPK campaign message, that Fujimorismo has not changed and remains a potent threat to democracy, has been lost in the din over family life and rule of law concerns. PPK has not been very good at pushing the argument that he helped to reconstruct Peru as a minister in the post-Fujimori Alejandro Toledo cabinet, in part because Toledo’s legacy is a mixed one that may not help PKK with undecided voters. And so far, at least, PPK’s anti-corruption rhetoric has neither lowered voter support for Keiko, nor gained him fresh new support of his own. Looking forward, Vergara notes that whichever candidate is chosen to lead Peru will have the tough task of building institutions that can address the political fragilities of Peru’s consolidating democracy. Amidst a slowing economy, not many Peruvians will be thinking about how to improve the institutionalization of the party system or the workings of anti-corruption agencies. But ultimately, this could prove to be the most important legacy of the next presidency.
  • Brazil
    Legitimacy and the Battle to Remove Rousseff
    The past week has brought a number of puzzling new feints and jabs in Brasília’s bloody political cage match: - Most dramatically, reputable news organizations are reporting that President Dilma Rousseff is contemplating resigning from office later this week, despite having spent much of the past year denying that she would ever countenance resignation; - After months of behind the scenes scheming to break with Rousseff and form his own government, Vice President Michel Temer announced that if he becomes president, he will not run for office again in 2018; and - Temer agreed to a laundry list of demands from the Brazilian Social Democratic Party (PSDB) as the price of their support. In the rapidly shifting political landscape of the impeachment drama, these perplexing reports only make sense when seen through the lens of legitimating, or de-legitimating, Rousseff’s removal. All parties are scrambling ahead of what looks like the certainty of a simple majority vote next week that would suspend Rousseff and install Temer as interim president. This week, the Senate special committee will vote on a report on whether or not to proceed to a trial; the Senate floor will then move to a simple majority vote on the trial, with overwhelming chances of approval. This vote would remove Rousseff for 180 days while the trial proceeds. On current trends, if the undecided senators follow the direction of their states and parties in the Chamber of Deputies, there are currently northward of fifty-eight votes for conviction, four more than the two-thirds majority needed. In the context of what looks—today—like almost certain conviction, Rousseff’s gambit appears to be to make it as hard as possible for Temer to govern with any semblance of legitimacy. Threatening to resign, and calling on Temer to resign alongside her, might be one of the few tactics available to Rousseff and capable of winning widespread public support. Whether or not she is serious about resignation, the mere suggestion that new elections would be more legitimate than impeachment has considerable political effect, especially in light of polls showing that three–fifths of Brazilians would support Temer’s removal. Although the chances of approving the necessary constitutional amendment seem low, calling for new elections is a powerful cudgel. Meanwhile, Rousseff is reported to have choreographed her departure from the Planalto Palace and to be contemplating an international tour to protest the impeachment effort, both of which might produce the desired cloud over the Temer administration. For his part, Temer is eager to ensure that the bandwagon effect skillfully constructed in the Chamber does not fall apart during the long Senate trial. The hangover that followed the spectacle of impeachment in the Chamber led to a certain buyers’ remorse: Rousseff was punished, but in the process, Brazilians got a closer look at their unpalatable Congress. The horrible spectacle of April 17’s impeachment vote, and the remarkably lopsided result (367 for, 137 against, 9 absent and abstaining) was shocking, even to those long inured to the opportunism of Brazil’s legislators. The governing coalition, many of whom had provided support to the Workers’ Party for the past thirteen years, suddenly turned its daggers on Rousseff. The spectacle was horrendous, demonstrating the opportunism of the congressional “bibles, bullets, and beef” caucuses, and the remarkable hypocrisy of legislators who are deeply implicated in corruption scandals casting votes against a president who is not thought to be personally implicated in corruption (although she faces allegations of having benefited from her party’s campaign finance violations and may soon be placed under investigation by Prosecutor General Ricardo Janot). As public revulsion with all politicians grows, Temer faces the tough task of keeping the pro-removal coalition intact, while simultaneously building a new administration from the ground up. In tackling these twin challenges, he has had to promise the world, most notably to the PSDB, which had threatened to remain outside the new government. As their price for joining Temer, the PSDB reportedly submitted a long list of demands, ranging from the sensible (a commitment to keep the Lava Jato investigation going), to the unlikely (a commitment to serious tax reform), and the downright fanciful (a commitment to political reform). Why the PSDB would ever expect Temer to fulfill those promises is, of course, moot: the list provides the PSDB with just the veneer of legitimacy they need. Joining the Temer administration is now harder to paint as golpista, and instead is portrayed as a high-minded commitment to the painful and necessary reforms needed to recover from the chaotic Rousseff years. Temer, meanwhile, brings on board an important ally that will help legitimate his very tenuous administration, providing a fig leaf of policy respectability that might otherwise be missing in an administration dominated by the unprincipled Brazilian Democratic Movement Party (PMDB). There will still be considerable drama surrounding the removal of Rousseff, and the daily news is likely to bring continued surprises and calculated misdirection. But the lens of legitimacy may provide the best analytical perspective on the news emerging from Brasília during the remainder of this turbulent year, in a political environment in which legitimacy is a scarce commodity for all of the major actors.
  • Brazil
    CFR Conference Call: Brazil Update
    Earlier this week I had the chance to talk with Michael T. Derham, a partner with Novam Portam, about the impeachment of President Dilma Rousseff and Brazil’s possible paths forward. You can listen to our conversation here.