Mexico's small-business 'vigilantes'

The business community in western Michoácan, Mexico, is trying to regain its footing after years of terror under the thumb of the Knights Templar criminal gang.

It's a warm Thursday evening in a ragtag park that doubles as a traffic circle in this western Mexico town, and Carlos Halabe is bidding good night to the last of the two dozen small-business owners who came out for this weekly "economic rebirth" meeting.

"We're the small-business version of the vigilantes," says Mr. Halabe, president of the chamber of commerce and owner of a local plywood business. "We may be a smaller form of the self-defense groups, but we're determined to move forward. It's up to us to make it happen."

Apatzingán, the commercial center of a region in Michoacán state that produces limes, mangoes, and a majority of the avocados consumed in the United States, is in recovery mode. Like a town rebuilding after a devastating storm, Apatzingán is trying to regain its footing after years of terror under the thumb of the Knights Templar criminal gang.

A nascent will to break old patterns tells Halabe that, despite all the pitfalls still out there, Apatzingán might this time be on the move.

Store owners who paid a monthly fee to the gang to stay in business, who shelled out cash to recover a kidnapped family member, or who acquiesced to orders to close up shop, now attend the open-air business meetings and publicly demand a new direction for the town.

Their goal? To build a community that never again allows the Knights Templar – or any other gang – to come in and take over.

"There is no greater power than that of the citizens, but we have never come together to exercise that power, and that's what we must do now," says Rafael, an auto repairman whose remarks draw enthusiastic applause. (Despite his willingness to speak out in the town square, Rafael declines to give his last name, citing lingering dangers.)

Chamber president Halabe tells the crowd that the economic renewal plan his delegation is working on with the federal government includes some tax cuts, utilities subsidies, and incentives to local lime growers to get their groves producing again.

About 60 percent of Apatzingán's economy is tied to the valley's lime trees, which make up a substantial share of Mexico's $100 million annual lime crop. A key factor in restarting a withered economy will be coaxing back the thousands of landowners who abandoned their fields or lost them to criminal elements because of intimidation.

The local chamber counts about 600 members, but Halabe says absentee landowners in the valley and a reluctance among the bigger business owners, like large fruit-packing houses, to get involved in economic rebirth efforts is slowing down the initiative. Another impediment is a state government and local police force that had links to criminal gangs – ties that may not yet be cut, he says.

"There is more uncertainty than lack of public security now, and that's our big challenge," Halabe says. "We can't say we are on solid ground yet, but if we can boost confidence in our own ability to produce changes, then we can move forward."

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.
Real news can be honest, hopeful, credible, constructive.
What is the Monitor difference? Tackling the tough headlines – with humanity. Listening to sources – with respect. Seeing the story that others are missing by reporting what so often gets overlooked: the values that connect us. That’s Monitor reporting – news that changes how you see the world.

Dear Reader,

About a year ago, I happened upon this statement about the Monitor in the Harvard Business Review – under the charming heading of “do things that don’t interest you”:

“Many things that end up” being meaningful, writes social scientist Joseph Grenny, “have come from conference workshops, articles, or online videos that began as a chore and ended with an insight. My work in Kenya, for example, was heavily influenced by a Christian Science Monitor article I had forced myself to read 10 years earlier. Sometimes, we call things ‘boring’ simply because they lie outside the box we are currently in.”

If you were to come up with a punchline to a joke about the Monitor, that would probably be it. We’re seen as being global, fair, insightful, and perhaps a bit too earnest. We’re the bran muffin of journalism.

But you know what? We change lives. And I’m going to argue that we change lives precisely because we force open that too-small box that most human beings think they live in.

The Monitor is a peculiar little publication that’s hard for the world to figure out. We’re run by a church, but we’re not only for church members and we’re not about converting people. We’re known as being fair even as the world becomes as polarized as at any time since the newspaper’s founding in 1908.

We have a mission beyond circulation, we want to bridge divides. We’re about kicking down the door of thought everywhere and saying, “You are bigger and more capable than you realize. And we can prove it.”

If you’re looking for bran muffin journalism, you can subscribe to the Monitor for $15. You’ll get the Monitor Weekly magazine, the Monitor Daily email, and unlimited access to CSMonitor.com.

QR Code to Mexico's small-business 'vigilantes'
Read this article in
https://www.csmonitor.com/World/Americas/2014/0309/Mexico-s-small-business-vigilantes
QR Code to Subscription page
Start your subscription today
https://www.csmonitor.com/subscribe