Dropping a dime
is like heating up the plaza:
You burn your villages on retreat...

In back-street English, “dropping a dime” on someone means snitching to the cops. But the drug war in Mexico adds a layer to this, because it’s not just a two-sided fight.

As Mexico’s cartel hit squads shoot at one another, they are also in conflict with the third leg in a war triangle: the not-always-perfect forces of law and order, represented by government troops and police. This means that snitching can be used tactically, as a weapon.



If Cartel A loses a chunk of turf to Cartel B, then Cartel A can, in effect, scorch the earth it is leaving. There are two ways to do this, both by luring law enforcement into the fray as Side C, and poisoning the spoils won by Side B.

The first way is the dime. You simply tell the cops (sometimes corrupt ally cops) where Cartel A is hiding out, to prompt a raid. But the second way is more subtle. There is a kind of jiu-jitsu called “calentando la plaza”–”heating up the turf”–if that turf is held by a rival.

This takes us back to the cartel dictionary. The ground won or lost is a “plaza”—a term nobody has been able to translate very well. It doesn’t mean a palm-lined village square. In underworld parlance in Mexico, a plaza is a geographical area of influence. Nor is it limited to border staging areas for drug smuggling. A plaza can be deep inside Mexico. It can be the size of an entire Mexican state, or a group of states–or just a city or county-sized area within a state–or only a section of a city. But the core meaning remains: a plaza is where you squeeze out profits. No other gang is supposed to move in (unless they pay “derecho de piso”—a user’s fee, or turf tax—also not translating very well).


Plazas are useful because, even if drug smuggling goes badly, you can turn to the ordinary citizens in your plaza and push some meth or marijuana onto the vulnerable. Or, more directly, you can extort the populace under threat, pulling in a monthly protection fee from the scared guy in the corner shoe store, maybe even the taco stand on the street. Cartel battles are fought over such captive areas, like medieval spoils. This is one of the open secrets of Mexico’s drug war: an uneven slide toward anarchy, with “taxes” collected by the boys down the block.

If a plaza is lost–if another gang comes in a bigger caravan of SUV’s and newly stolen quad-cab pickups–there is still the wild card: You can lure in “the heat.” Crime news from Mexico is laced with acccusations that one or another sour-grapes gang faction has been “calentando la plaza” (“heating up the turf”) by committing acts of violence. These may look random and pointless, but there is the hidden gain: they may force law enforcement to crack down by hitting the easiest targets, your surprised rivals.

Maybe you massacre a few civilians. This might pressure an embarrassed government to send in the Marines. If it’s a plaza you don’tcontrol anyway, what do you have to lose? The troop surge will keep your rivals from doing business. The word for this–“calentar” (“to heat up”)–equates law enforcement with a warm reception, like an old Chicago gangster flick with Joey or Louie musing: “We gotta lay low. Da heat’s on.”

But Joey or Louie were seldom so successful at dominating large swaths of society as to need the extra geographical word: “plaza.” The drug war has seen efforts to carve up Mexico like a pie (a Cuernavaca cartel summit in 2007 sounded like the dons in The Godfather carving up 1950s Cuba). There is something timeless in the idea of the plaza. Warlords in the Dark Ages might have called it a fiefdom.

Even the simpler form of 3-D cartel chess, the dropped dime, is an art. The throwaway cell phone rings up the confidential government tip line. The heat is sent directly to the victorious rival’s celebration party. Soon Mexican Marines are swarming the ranch or restaurant, backed by the grim thump-thump-thump of a U.S.-supplied Black Hawk helicopter. The spectacular mass arrest may be followed by a stern government press release, announcing primly: “The Marines acted upon information from a concerned citizen.” But was it really a heroic passerby–or a knife from Joey or Louie?








It can come thick and fast. At present the remnant Gulf Cartel, cornered in an urban strip of border Mexico just below South Texas, is dismembering itself so rapidly—in a feud between the R’s and the M’s (also not translating very well)—that police and soldiers practically have to use dump trucks to cart off the gunmen getting fingered by vengeful colleagues. Nearly every month—almost every week—some new plaza boss seems to get his birthday party busted—perhaps through shrewd intelligence work by the authorities. But perhaps also through that mysterious phone call.

Of course, such tactics are only a side issue. Dwarfing them are the overall effects of the gang conflicts.

For example, the small border municipio of Miguel Aleman (a municipio is akin to a combined city-county unit) has fewer than 30,000 inhabitants.
But it has 12 miles of U.S. border frontage along the Rio Grande. Well positioned for smuggling, this municipio is said to define a “plaza,” or area of influence, for the Gulf Cartel. Their rivals, the Zetas, were also established here, but were largely driven out in the “New Federation” cartel war of 2010. The Zetas sometimes return on disastrous raids, “heating up the (lost) plaza.“

As a Gulf Cartel plaza, Miguel Aleman is watched over by a plaza boss, in charge of illegal profits. But who is this boss? The answer–or lack of an answer–reveals the chaotic nature of Mexico’s drug war. The line-up shifts quickly:










[i] 1. Eudoxio Ramos, arrested Oct 27, 2011, was said to have been plaza boss of Miguel Aleman in the past, presumably in early 2011 or before.

2. Gilberto Barragan (“El Tocayo”), arrested May 20, 2011, was called the plaza boss of Miguel Aleman at the time of his arrest.

3. Samuel Flores (“El Metro Tres”), a major regional operative, was found dead on September 2, 2011. At the time, he was called the plaza boss of both Miguel Aleman and much larger Reynosa next door.

4. Ricardo Salazar, arrested Oct 8, 2011, after an hours-long firefight killed ten gunmen, was said to be Miguel Aleman plaza boss at that time.

5. “Pepio” Muñetonez, apparently never apprehended, was reportedly named by Eudoxio Ramos, above, as the current plaza boss of Miguel Aleman at the end of October.
So who runs the Miguel Aleman plaza? The specifics are a blur.
Much of the Mexican violence can be seen only as a chaotic silhouettte.



http://www.borderlandbeat.com/2011/12/drop-that-dime-on-hot-plazaits-their.html#comment-form

Good stuff.

This is a fantastic piece! Thanks so much for contributing because it does do an excellent job putting all of this cartel business into some kind of perspective.

Yeah I really liked this article and what I suspected all along, it was obvious if you followed the drug war in Mexico. Though it seems like Los Zetas are the ones doing the attacking this time because they have nothing to lose. The military has been really hard on Los Zetas for the past 5 years and yet they keep expanding. It's also known that the narco-mantas or narco-messages are also done by the rivals to blame to rival organization. Like in Acapulco last year, 16 beheaded bodies were dumped in the middle of the city and the narco manta said it was Chapo's people or signed by them but anybody that follows the drug war knows it wasn't Chapo's people but CIDA trying to pass off as the Sinaloa Cartel to strike fear into their rivals.

Organized crime in Mexico claims more than 47,000 lives in five years
Channel6News
January 12, 2012


MEXICO CITY (BNO NEWS) -- More than 47,000 people have been killed during the past five years alone as a result of organized crime in Mexico, according to new figures released by the country's Attorney General office (PGR).

The figures released by the PGR on Wednesday show a constant increase in killings in relation to organized crime since President Felipe Calderón assumed office on December 1, 2006. Calderón has been a prominent leader of the 'war' against organized crime and drug cartels.

During the first month of his presidency (December 2006), a total of 62 drug-related homicides were registered throughout the country. The figure for the entire year of 2007 sharply increased to 2,867, followed by 6,838 killings in 2008, 9,614 in 2009 and 15,273 in 2010.

Figures for the entire year of 2011 are not yet available, but PGR said at least 12,903 drug-related killings were reported between January and September 2011. This will likely bring the total figure for 2011 to more than 17,000, the highest number yet.

From the partial figures for 2011, the northern state of Chihuahua reported the highest number of homicides with 2,276 deaths. Guerrero reported 1,533 homicides, Tamaulipas saw 1,153 homicides, Sinaloa saw 1,100 homicides and Veracruz 538.

The most violent city in terms of drug-related homicides was Juarez, which is located in Chihuahua and borders El Paso, Texas. According to the official figures, at least 1,206 people died as a result of drug-related violence in Juarez during the first nine months of 2011.

The number of documented homicides has increased rapidly in recent years, but critics say the figures would be even more alarming if those kidnapped and unaccounted murders would be included.

Presidential terms in Mexico last six years and, since the country's Revolutionary Constitution of 1917, presidents are not allowed to seek re-election or serve again as president. Calderón, whose campaign against organized crime and drug cartels was made public since taking office, is currently in the last year of his term.

http://channel6newsonline.com/2012/01/or...-in-five-years/