Bus tour rides roughshod over Mexico's corrupt politicians
Date January 9, 2015 - 1:43PM
Two members of Via Ciudadana wait to begin one of the Corruptour bus' free tours. Photo: New York Times/Rodrigo Cruz
Monterrey, Mexico: Inside a large, open-air bus, a corrupt politician quarrels over the loudspeakers with a fed-up citizen who tells the passengers about the millions of pesos lost in a series of corruption scandals.
As the scripted recording plays, three security guards sitting on a bench watch in awe at the passing bus before cracking up in laughter, pointing at the bright red and yellow insignia on its side: the "Corruptour".
The broadside includes caricaturised faces of the state's former and current governors. Both grin at passers-by, drawing stares at each of the 11 "corruption landmarks" that the bus tour aims to spotlight, including the casino where gunmen started a fire that killed 52 people.
Ezequiel Mora mourns for his son Alexander, who was among the 43 missing students and the first to be confirmed dead. Photo: New York Times
"We have failed to place the issue of corruption at the centre of political debate," said Miguel Trevino, the head of the Corruptour project and founding member of Via Ciudadana, one of many local groups pushing to raise political and social awareness here in Mexico's richest city.
"We need to make it tangible and understandable to people, and to explain its direct implications on our everyday lives so they will want to fight it," he said.
Born through a mix of frustration, satire and savvy, the Corruptour is a free one-hour ride led by young activists hoping to stir a political awakening with five trips per weekend. After a hiatus for the holidays, the tours are to resume this week.
Relatives and friends during a vigil for killed student teacher Alexander Mora. Photo: New York Times
In this industrial city of 1.1 million people, the quirky bit of political tourism is the latest creative attempt to agitate for what Mexicans widely say they sorely need: a less corrupt, more efficient government.
The systematic violence that defined this place as recently as 2012 has declined. The private and public sectors came together to tackle the issue by creating a new state police force, known as Fuerza Civil, which has been recruiting and training more than 4000 polygraphed, in theory, more trustworthy police officers.
But broad government corruption here, and in Mexico at large, remains a largely untreated illness. Mexicans are enraged over the disappearance and presumed murder of 43 college students (one has been confirmed dead) in the southern state of Guerrero last fall, and the government has been plagued with questions over the purchase of homes by the country's first lady and finance minister from a company that has won numerous government construction contracts.
For decades, corruption and impunity have inspired apathy and anger, and both were again on display in the past months when President Enrique Pena Nieto, during a television interview, described corruption as largely a "cultural problem".
It was a remark that many interpreted as a feeble attempt to excuse public theft, rather than trying to stamp it out.
"If the matter of corruption is cultural, then it means there is no salvation for this country," said Denisse Dresser, a political analyst, during a radio show after the President's remarks.
Other experts agree that there may be an acceptance of Mexico's long-lasting tradition of corruption, but they disagree with the inexorability of it, pointing to Monterrey as an example.
"Monterrey is a perfect example of how the balance of powers can be overturned," said Carlos Elizondo, a scholar at the Center for Economic Research in Mexico City, referring to the blossoming of civil groups and businesses demanding better governance here in recent years.
The leaders of the Corruptour are hoping for more change – the kind of voter engagement that would generate higher political costs for public officials embroiled in corruption scandals and planning to run for office in this year's mid-term elections.
"This is not about just complaining, it is about understanding what is our role in history," said Lorenia Canavati, a member of Via Ciudadana.
It was no coincidence that on one recent weekend afternoon, the tour started off at the government palace, a 20th-century brownstone building and office to the sitting governor of the state of Nuevo Leon, Rodrigo Medina. The omniscient voice of the bus tour guide – the activist – warned passengers about the state's public debt, which has risen to almost 73.6 billion pesos ($6 billion), making it Mexico's second largest. The governor's office had no response.
The Corruptour continued on to the Administrative Tower, an impressive 36-storey pearl-white skyscraper, a monument to a city that embraces opulence and modernity. The building, which holds government offices, was not only finished late, it also still carries a public debt of around $108 million, according to Via Ciudadana.
For the roughly 25 passengers, including some crime victims, the bus trip was at once educational and highly politicised, entertaining and cathartic. At a red light near downtown, the activist and his amplified voice asked in a recording: "You know what politicians – from any given party – fear the most?"
"A budget cutback?" The cynical official chimed in, chuckling in response.
"What they fear the most is a group of informed citizens united and organised to do something on their own, without asking for permission," the activist replied. "They feed and live from our insolence and from our leniency – from our general conformity."
The crowd on the bus smiled and nodded.
As the corruption bus steered past the decaying remains of Casino Royale – the gambling parlour set ablaze in August 2011 by people suspected of being cartel hit men, killing 52 people – one local resident on the bus, Edmundo Jimenez, glared in silence. His said his wife died that day in the fire, trapped in a bathroom, despite his efforts to break down the window from the outside.
At the time, there were questions about whether corruption was part of the cause. The brother of Monterrey's mayor had been caught on video collecting a huge wad of cash from another casino. He was initially detained, then his lawyer said the money was for cheese from Oaxaca. Two months later, he was released.
The investigation did reveal that government safety inspectors, suspected of taking bribes, had failed to do their jobs; there were several building code violations inside, including blocked emergency exits.
"It is time to wake up, or this country will sink," Jimenez said. He looked away, and the ride continued.
New York Times
