President Andrés Manuel López Obrador’s decision to travel to Washington this week was met with concern and incredulity among many in Mexico — albeit with substantial public opinion support for his trip, according to a July 1 El Financiero newspaper poll. Meanwhile, in Washington, the trip was received mostly with a mix of curiosity, expectation, and bafflement. Two questions dominated most of the discussion surrounding the president’s first trip abroad since being sworn in as president in December 2018: In the U.S., it was mainly how two men who on paper seem to be ideological polar opposites have gotten along; in Mexico, conversely, most of the discussion has been about the merits and timing of the visit.

Setting aside the cliché in most U.S. press coverage of the interaction between them — Trump a pro-business chauvinist, and López Obrador a “leftist” (he is mostly a nationalist and statist conservative) — both men are two similarly hard-wired presidents and populists. As all good bullies do, Trump sniffs out weakness: López Obrador’s landslide electoral victory and congressional majority — in comparison to his predecessor, Enrique Peña Nieto, whom Trump disliked and saw as weak — surely had an impact on Trump’s initial approach to his current Mexican counterpart. And López Obrador, who has truly sought at all cost to avoid conflict with his American counterpart, at some point decided — or was convinced — that bending the knee and appeasing Trump was better than standing his ground.

López Obrador had not travelled abroad since his inauguration, skipping G-20 and Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) summits, as well as the U.N. General Assembly. As probably one of the most intellectually incurious and disinterested Mexican presidents of the modern era when it comes to what happens around the globe, he could have certainly waited a few months more, until after November 3, to travel to Washington. Instead, in a seemingly Pavlovian response to Trump’s statement (in Arizona, before his rally on June 24) that his Mexican counterpart would soon come to visit him — at a juncture in which López Obrador had seemingly conceded to pressure within his cabinet to postpone the visit and use the pandemic as an excuse — he has waded straight into politics in the U.S. The decision to travel to Washington now was fraught with challenges, not least the fact that President Trump will use President López Obrador as an electoral prop. In fact, just a few hours after the visit ended, pro-Trump Hispanic outreach social media accounts tweeted López Obrador’s baffling Rose Garden statement that Trump respected Mexico and Mexicans.

It’s certainly a slap in the face of migrants in the U.S. — 11 million of whom are Mexicans — and a boon to Trump’s dog-whistle xenophobia and chauvinism. Trump is the most anti-Mexican U.S. president in modern history, but in that statement López Obrador conflated Trump’s respect for him, which is likely real, with respect for Mexico and Mexicans. And at a time when the U.S. is riven by a level of social and political convulsion unseen in 50 years, meeting with Trump in Washington — just before the general campaign starts — will be perceived by many Americans as a pat on the back for a polarizing and unpopular president. With his remarks in the White House, it would seem that President López Obrador essentially gave President Trump the green light to attack Mexico and its people on both sides of the border.

Moreover, there’s a danger that Trump will use the U.S.-Mexico-Canada Agreement (USMCA) as an opportunity to spike the ball in the endzone, further alienating Democrats in Congress who were key to delivering the votes for the trade agreement’s ratification. If the purpose of the visit was to celebrate the entry into force of the USMCA, then López Obrador — despite the congressional recess — should have also reached out to Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi and the Democratic leadership to meet and thank them too. It’s baffling that this did not occur, unless of course a fear of incurring Trump’s wrath once again determined Mexican foreign policy objectives and priorities.

What could have easily been achieved via a virtual welcoming of the USMCA’s entry into force morphed into a second successive Mexican government jumping on the Trump electoral bandwagon, deepening perceptions among Democrats that López Obrador prefers to see Trump reelected. Moreover, for a leader who has recurred to the default position that “the best foreign policy is domestic policy,” the trip will lay bare a paradox in López Obrador’s mantra: It is precisely Mexico’s domestic weaknesses and failings that are creating foreign policy vulnerabilities, particularly vis-à-vis this U.S. administration. It is likely that these will be used to once again pressure Mexico in what has become Trump’s “Sinatra policy” towards Mexico: “My way.”

Hopefully the meeting between the presidents will be used by both governments to address looming problems with the entry into force of the USMCA. On the one hand, Trump seems intent on wielding punitive tariffs and mercantilist measures to extract concessions from Canada or Mexico. A case in point are the recent threats regarding Canadian aluminum and steel exports, or Trump’s suggestion about an end to live cattle imports — which only come from Mexico and Canada — in an effort to help U.S. producers hurt by supply chain disruptions. That would be in violation of impending UMSCA rules and disciplines. And on the other, the López Obrador government, and his party in congress, continue enacting abrupt policy shifts and changes to the rules across different sectors that bode ill for the level playing field required under NAFTA and its successor, the USMCA. However, I would not hold my breath that the two threats to the trade pact were actually discussed.

Perception is indeed reality, and López Obrador — and Mexico — can ill afford to be perceived as Trump’s patsies at this juncture of American history. It could have a long-standing impact on Mexico’s relationship with the U.S. and American society, including the voters and the demographics that will determine the future of the country, in the decades to come.

       

A weak rule of law has been one of Mexico’s Achilles heels for a long time now, and the monopoly of violence by the state has been called into question there on several occasions since 2005 when organized crime started challenging the government of Vicente Fox.

But at no point had it been put to the test so severely — and failed so dramatically — as in Culiacán (the capital of the state of Sinaloa) this past October, following an operation to arrest Ovidio Guzmán, son of jailed kingpin Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzman, and the subsequent decision to release him in response to the violence unleashed by the Sinaloa criminal organization. The havoc wreaked there was the culmination of a week defined by deadly violence in the states of Michoacán and Guerrero and the lack of a clear plan by the almost one-year old administration of President Andrés Manuel López Obrador to confront it. Moreover, the deployment of just 30 troops, with no secure perimeter and no air support, suggests the operation in Culiacán was poorly planned. It’s as if Mexican forces brought knives to a gunfight. Contrary to what President López Obrador seemed to suggest in justifying his decision to pull back, lives are not saved by spur-of-the-moment decisions during an operation; they are saved by careful and meticulous planning.

The decision to cave-in and release Guzmán could have far-reaching consequences for Mexico’s long struggle against violent crime, and for relations with a U.S. president who’s itching to pick a fight with Mexico on drug policy — and who will continue to use my country as an electoral piñata — on the road to 2020. That this coincides with the lack of coherent and forward-looking Mexican and U.S. government strategies to tackle violence in Mexico and confront transnational criminal organizations operating on both sides of our border makes it all the more problematic.

And just a few days later, when the dust hadn’t even started to settle in Culiacán, the severity of the problem was manifest in an even more painful way: with the horrific tragedy of the murder of the LeBaron family, dual Mexico-U.S. citizens, killed as they traveled along a dirt road between the states of Chihuahua and Sonora, across the border from Arizona and New Mexico. The LeBaron family also represents the myriad and profound cross-border ties and connections that characterize the complexity and richness of the U.S.-Mexico relationship, making the incident all the more distressing.

And now, what happens?

How all this translates into policymaking in Mexico in the coming weeks and months though is still to be seen. A survey released by newspaper El Financiero on October 22 and conducted in the immediate wake of the Culiacán operation shows that 67% of Mexicans still approved of the job López Obrador is doing as president, a rate essentially unchanged over the last six months. But by mid-November, another survey — by newspaper El Universal — showed that the president’s approval ratings fell 10 points from August to November, from 68.7% to 58.7%.

But beyond mere approval ratings, a deeper problem for his administration is starting to emerge. Polling conducted by newspaper Reforma in the aftermath of Culiacán but before the heinous LeBaron murders was already showing that 56% of those surveyed think that the government’s security policy is failing, and half of those surveyed believe the government should not negotiate with drug traffickers. Like in the aforementioned survey, a majority of Mexicans still believe in and trust López Obrador personally, but they increasingly do not believe in the government’s public security strategy.

Beyond the failings of Mexican law enforcement — as well as the frightening possibility that Culiacán could well signal a de facto Pax Narca in Mexico, underscoring that “ungoverned spaces” aren’t ungoverned, they just aren’t governed by the state — recent tragic events are also a reminder that the drug trade in North America is booming. U.S. consumers of cocaine, meth, and opioids funded a big share of all those gunmen and weapons deployed by organized crime. The Arizona border, near where the LeBaron family was attacked, is one of the key chokepoints for northbound opioids and therefore the locus of a fight to the death between rival criminal organizations vying for control of trafficking routes to the United States. Alex LeBaron, a family member and spokesman for the community there, couldn’t have captured this better when he tweeted to President Donald Trump:

Want to help? Focus on lowering Drug Consumption in U.S. Want to help some more? Stop the ATF and Gun Law loopholes from systematically injecting high powered assault weapons to Mexico… Please help @realDonaldTrump https://t.co/wqwfmqhPC1

— LeBaron (@AlexLebaron1) November 5, 2019

A key factor in Mexican law enforcement being outgunned — in Culiacán and elsewhere across Mexico — are those Barrett .50-caliber sniper rifles and other assault weapons that continue to make their way illegally across the U.S. border and feed the firepower of criminal organizations. Mexico’s violence is fed in part by U.S. gun shops: Between 2007 and 2018, more than 150,000 firearms seized in Mexico had been sold by U.S. gun shops and gun shows. In 2014 alone, roughly 70 percent of all traceable illegal weapons recovered in Mexico were traced back to licensed U.S. vendors. Approximately four out of 10 of these weapons originated in Texas.

Le Baron’s tweets hit the nail on the head. In many ways, his family is a victim of failed and flawed policies on both sides of the border: In the U.S., it’s the woeful inability to reduce consumption and the unwillingness to stem the flood of guns and bulk cash into Mexico; on the Mexican side, it’s a broken social contract, and an endemically weak rule of law and a public security strategy that is neither here nor there. And in both capitals, it’s the persistence of a failed paradigm undergirding our common efforts to confront violent transnational organized crime: focusing, jointly, in going after kingpins, which led to the events in Culiacán with El Chapo’s son.

Heavy lifting needed on both sides of the border

If the U.S. administration and Congress truly wish to turn off the gun-trafficking tap flooding Mexico, the status quo of legal sales — which account for the majority of the weapons that land in the hands of criminal organizations — needs to change. The solutions are indisputable: implementing universal background checks, a ban on assault weapons, and a comprehensive sales registry; making gun trafficking and straw purchasing federal crimes; increasing access to international gun trafficking data; and requiring the reporting of multiple sales of long guns.

But even if Washington is unwilling to pursue any of these, improving oversight of southbound outbound traffic at border crossing points would go a long way toward limiting the international trafficking of weapons. Not least, it would also reflect Washington’s respect for and consistency in implementing joint responsibility. That has been the key paradigm undergirding bilateral ties since 2007, and seems to be so sorely missing these days in the White House. Such U.S. efforts would signal a clear quid pro quo for Mexico’s efforts to stem northbound drugs.

And the U.S. must avoid knee-jerk and simplistic attempts to solve the problem with one-size-fits-all policies, whether it’s with ill-advised mentions of U.S. military operations and “boots on the ground” in Mexico, or the pervasive and recurrent temptation to designate transnational criminal organizations (TCOs) operating on Mexican soil as terrorist organizations (as some in Congress have suggested and as President Trump threatened).

When your only tool is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. The toolbox needed to confront TCOs is different from the one you need to confront terrorists, no matter how violent and despicable criminals and drug traffickers become. Neither of those two approaches would solve the structural causes of an endemically weak rule of law, impunity, and a torn social contract in Mexico; or the factors feeding a voracious consumption of illicit drugs in the U.S.; or the weapons and bulk cash flowing into Mexico from across the U.S. And contrary to terrorist groups, criminal organizations do not want to destroy the state; they need it, though certainly weakened,  as a parasite needs a host, to conduct their business.

One could also make the case that if criminal organizations in Mexico are terrorists, then U.S. consumers and U.S. gun shops are accessories and accomplices to terrorists. And if the U.S. did indeed resort to designating organized crime in Mexico as terrorists, the trade and economic consequences for America’s number-one trading partnership would be severe. Moreover, using the U.S. military in Mexico or designating TCOs as terrorists would scupper the bilateral security cooperation that has been so painstakingly been built since the 9/11 attacks, and that plays such an important role in supporting U.S. homeland security.

On the Mexican side of the border, Mexico needs to ensure that its customs service (part of the Servicio de Administración Tributaria, or SAT) truly morphs into a border-security and domain-awareness-driven agency with enough resources, technology, and manpower to inspect inbound cargo, vehicles, and trucks and to stop guns from arriving illicitly. Moreover, Mexico’s new National Guard, designed to rein in organized crime, is now overstretched and overpowered, in part because so many of its members have been diverted (at Trump’s insistence) to stop Central American migrants and asylum seekers from reaching the U.S. border. This needs to stop.

The Mexican government should immediately adopt a two-pronged strategy:

• It must publicly state that given de facto, state-by-state legalization of cannabis in the U.S., it will, as a matter of principle and public policy, no longer spend resources or manpower in eradicating or interdicting cannabis on its way to the U.S. market. Rather, it should — despite President López Obrador’s statements and policy decisions (and his mantra of “hugs, not bullets”), dedicate those resources and manpower to taking on and confronting the more violent groups and the more pernicious drugs. And,
• It needs undoubtedly to jettison the so-called kingpin strategy that prioritizes arrests of the leaders of criminal organizations.

In Mexico, the government, political parties, and the general public need to understand that the debate raging there over violence and human security is not about more military or less military. It’s about a strategic and appropriate use of the armed forces as a temporary, stop-gap measure, balanced with improved institutions, civilian police, better prosecutors, a stronger judicial system, an effective prison system, greater human, social and institutional resilience, and enhanced intelligence and law-enforcement cooperation with the U.S.

Like its immediate predecessor (the Peña Nieto administration), the current Mexican government wants to keep U.S. security support at arm’s length. The results, in terms of rising levels of insecurity and violent homicides over the last six years, are there for all to see. Policymakers in Mexico need to understand that the Mérida Initiative — launched by both governments in 2007 to enhance bilateral law enforcement cooperation and then revamped and holistically broadened in 2009 — is more than just the transfer of hardware or capacity building for law enforcement, public security and the rule of law in Mexico. Rather, it’s about process and protocols: of dialogue, communication, intelligence exchange, and interagency coordination. Standard operating procedures on both sides of the border are and should be the cornerstones of effective, symmetrical, and bilateral collaboration and shared responsibility.

Mutual recriminations will do us no favor; in this bilateral relationship, if you point one finger across the border, three fingers will be pointing back at you. The choice is simple but stark: The United States and Mexico need to stop being accomplices to failure and instead become partners to success.

       

When it comes to his country’s relationship with Mexico, U.S. President Donald Trump has decided to take a position that is at once reckless and suicidal. Reckless, because he is single-handedly scuttling a bilateral relationship with a nation that is vital to the prosperity, security, and well-being of the U.S. Suicidal, because the punitive tariffs he threatened on all Mexican imports a little over two weeks ago would only boomerang and smack America in the face.

The lessons from what is surely the gravest diplomatic crisis between the nations since the murder of an undercover U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration agent on Mexican soil in 1985 are worrisome. First, there’s the resounding message to the world that the U.S. cannot be trusted in any negotiation (despite having just finalized the revamp of a new regional trade agreement). Second, they are a reminder of what happens when President Trump is allowed to continue weaponizing trade policy. Third, they underscore that he will continue to conduct foreign affairs by means of tirades, ultimatums and tantrums.

The U.S. president will never grasp why tariffs on Mexican exports are a self-inflicted wound. The integrated supply chains and joint production platforms that have been built in North America over more than 20 years of regional trade mean that out of every dollar that Mexico exports to the U.S., 40 cents are American inputs.

So a 5 percent tariff on Mexican exports is also a 5 percent tariff on their U.S. parts. The effects would be felt on everything from beer and avocados to medical instruments, heavy machinery, cars and aerospace components. A 5 percent tariff on all imports coming to the U.S. from Mexico would lead to an increase in direct costs to American consumers and businesses of about $28.1 billion each year. And if Mexico were to retaliate, as it successfully did last year with a carousel of surgical countervailing duties designed to extract the highest economic and political cost at the congressional district and state levels, the pain would be widespread in Republican states.

No wonder Republicans in Congress, governors and business associations swiftly mobilized to criticize the president and force him to back down; this time around it was clearly a tariff too far.

But President Trump’s threat was not really about tariffs. It was about ransoming North American trade to prise concessions from Mexico on immigration policy, which he could then sell to his base as proof of his hardline stance on migrants, refugees and border security.

You cannot enforce your way out of a migration crisis and the U.S. president was not truly searching for a deal; what he really wants is a trophy. Mexico is a prop in a narrative controlled by President Trump, and President Andrés Manuel López Obrador would do well to remember this. While Mexico has been behaving like the adult in this relationship, seeking to de-escalate tension every time Trump makes a new threat and appeasing the White House to avoid a worse outcome, that should not be conflated with good policy.

While Trump plays checkers, Mexico will need to play chess.

President López Obrador should not blink and kowtow as both countries ascertain whether Mexico’s efforts to deter Central American transmigration have worked. But if Trump does return to the warpath, Mexico needs to hold the line and work with its many allies and stakeholders in the U.S. to pile political pressure on the White House.

It should also reinstate its retaliatory duties on everything from agricultural exports and Christmas trees to Bourbon and motorcycles, and let U.S. consumers and businesses bear the brunt of their president’s decisions.

In the coming weeks and months, while Trump plays checkers, Mexico will need to play chess. The U.S. has had the luxury of an ally nation at its southern border for decades. Wrecking the new U.S.-Mexico-Canada trade agreement, and its political and economic foundations, will have a hugely detrimental impact on the bilateral relationship that has been built so painstakingly since the creation of NAFTA and in the aftermath of 9/11. Trump should be very careful what he wishes for.

       

The growing unilateralism and weaponization of trade policy by President Trump have turned into the most grievous risk for a rules-based international system that ensures fairness, reciprocity and a level playing field for global trade. If this trend continues, trade policy will end up being decided by interest groups with enough access to influence and game the political system. This corrupting influence will irreparably damage the global economy.

The impending approval process of the United States-Mexico-Canada Agreement (USMCA) provides a unique opportunity for Democrats in Congress to redress the situation and claim an important victory. The U.S. International Trade Commission (ITC) has released its assessment of the economic impact of the USMCA, a procedural step that clears the way for Congress to debate ratification of the agreement. It nonetheless looks increasingly likely that the process could become acrimonious and politically charged; leaders of both parties have been pushing the Trump administration with specific demands in exchange for supporting it.

A good number of House and Senate Democrats have insisted that the USMCA lacks an effective enforcement mechanism to guarantee compliance with its new labor provisions. They are right; as negotiated, the deal does indeed lack an effective dispute resolution and enforcement mechanism. The main gripe Democrats have had for a long time with the original North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) is that its labor side-agreement is not part of the trade agreement itself and that, therefore, labor violations are not subject to the same level of disciplines.

The USMCA makes significant progress by not only incorporating labor and environmental provisions into the core text, but also by significantly expanding the coverage of labor disciplines. This is an important Democratic achievement.

However, bringing labor into the fold is useful only if the dispute resolution mechanism of the USMCA is effective. It is not. The position of the United States Trade Representative in the past few years has been not to strengthen but to weaken the dispute resolution mechanism in NAFTA, the World Trade Organization (WTO) and other agreements. This is profoundly mistaken and counterproductive and, going forward, is potentially a self-inflicted wound for the three North American economies.

If they could get their way, President Trump, U.S. Trade Representative Robert Lighthizer and White House adviser Peter Navarro apparently would rather implement unilateral enforcement mechanisms to continue abusing the imposition of import duties, as was evidenced by the tariffs on steel and aluminum imposed a year ago by the administration on Mexico and Canada. By claiming that they were needed because of national security, they not only were a slap in the face of two neighboring countries, which closely collaborate with the United States precisely on security issues, but they also unnecessarily created a roadblock to USMCA approval — and in the process hurt American consumers and businesses, mainly in the Midwest, because of retaliatory tariffs imposed by Mexico and Canada. The long overdue elimination of Section 232 tariffs is a welcome burst of momentum for the USMCA in Congress.

That is why the USMCA will function properly only if the dispute resolution is effective not just on labor and the environment, but also for trade issues. And unilateral U.S. certification of Mexican labor compliance, as being discussed on Capitol Hill, should not and cannot be the solution. It is asymmetrical and violates the principle of reciprocity and equality key to any trade agreement.

Democrats could solve the conundrum by introducing language — preferably in the implementing bill, but potentially also in a trilateral side letter to Chapter 31 of the agreement — to ensure that dispute resolution works properly. To do so, Congress can instruct the executive, via implementing legislation, to present by a certain date the names of the panelists for dispute resolution proceedings, to avoid frequently-used delay tactics, and to respect panel rulings whenever these occur.

Moreover, Congress — in reclaiming back authority over trade matters — can state that for the United States not to adhere to a ruling (and thus be subject to retaliatory measures from other parties), a vote is required by the legislative branch. Finally, members of Congress could agree that Section 232 cases — such as current tariffs on aluminum and steel imports — would be subject to a panel review so that the system is not abused and retaliation is implemented only after the ruling. Of course, Canada and Mexico would have to agree to the same terms.

If Democrats were to leverage the ratification process of the USMCA and their core objective to seek and ensure effective enforcement of labor provisions, in order to reinstate a working and effective dispute resolution system, this would become a model for dealing with other pressing issues in WTO and in negotiations with China.

The main objective of NAFTA was to increase trade and investment between the United States, Mexico and Canada. This largely happened. Mexico just surpassed China to become the United States’s largest trading partner, and Canada is its largest market (Mexico is second and growing). The challenge now is how to structure trade and investment so that North America becomes more competitive in global markets, particularly Asia and Europe. This is much more likely to happen with the three countries working together and becoming a model for the international trading system.

If North America shows, through the revamped USMCA, that the rule of law and effective enforcement can underpin a profitable and competitive deeper integration, the impact will be felt worldwide.

Timing and political calculations — and miscalculation by the president — could potentially further complicate USMCA ratification. A good crisis should never go to waste. Democratic members of Congress have a unique opportunity they did not expect to encounter and should see approval of the USMCA not as a problem but as an opportunity to show leadership on an issue in need of constructive thinking. Now that Mexico has approved agreed-upon and groundbreaking labor amendments, the approval process can — and should — begin in Congress.

Democrats could get the credit by ensuring that, at the end of the ratification process, North America has a gold-standard regulatory framework to address 21st century challenges. This is the right time for Democratic leadership to push for a proposal commensurate with the leverage it has. In Shakespearean terms, ’tis a tide they should not lose.

       

The electoral dust has settled in Mexico, and voters did not defy what the polls had been predicting for months. Andrés Manuel López Obrador’s landslide victory on Sunday signals a tectonic shift in contemporary Mexican politics not seen since the Institutional Revolutionary Party was vanquished in 2000 after 71 years of continuous one-party rule. This also entails a dramatic partisan realignment as a result of the shellacking of the three main political parties.

During the campaign, some claimed that Mexicans were favoring López Obrador in response—or as a foil—to President Donald Trump. Nothing could be further from the truth. While favorable perceptions of the United States in Mexico have certainly plummeted during the past 18 months, and more than 80 percent of all Mexicans currently have an unfavorable view of Trump, neither was a factor in who won on election day.

Fed up with politics and politicians as usual and driven by the tone-deafness and hubris of the three mainstream political parties, Mexicans chose someone to kick the legs out from under the table instead of simply resetting the dinnerware. And whereas corruption in some nations occurs under the table and in others over the table, for a resounding majority of Mexican voters, the perception is that corruption these past years has included the table itself.

The impending and most pressing question in the immediate aftermath of López Obrador’s resounding victory is what to expect during the next six years of his administration. There are still too many open-ended questions today as to what his governing style and decision-making will look like, and whether some of the flip-flops, inconsistencies and lack of clarity regarding his public policies during the campaign were an electoral tactic or a worrisome trait. The short answer is that we really don’t know. And it most likely won’t be until the end of the long transition between now and Dec. 1, when he takes office, that we will acquire a more granular understanding of which López Obrador will govern—the pragmatist or the firebrand.

One of the big lingering question marks is how López Obrador will engage with the United States at large and in particular with his soon-to-be counterpart in the Oval Office. Yet what happens in the next six years in the U.S.-Mexico relationship depends less on López Obrador and more on Trump. The way Trump chooses to respond to López Obrador and treat Mexico in the months ahead will set the tone for relations going forward.

So far, things are not encouraging. In an interview aired Sunday, as Mexicans went to the polls, Trump threatened to “tax” Mexican car exports to the United States if things are “not fine” as a result of the elections. Trump would do well to recognize the whopping mandate Mexicans have given López Obrador, the political strength he will derive from a majority in Congress and the hope for change sweeping across Mexico. There’s no doubt that, thanks to Trump’s Mexico-bashing and despite yeoman’s work from officials on both sides of the border in seeking to contain the damage, ties between the two neighbors are at a nadir not seen since the 1980s.

During the run-up to the election, as Trump continued his anti-Mexican and anti-immigrant tirades, presidential contenders in Mexico unsurprisingly adopted, to varying degrees, a robust anti-Trump stance. And while Trump didn’t move the needle on how Mexicans voted, he might certainly impact the appetite and bandwidth with which the new Mexican government, conceivably composed of cabinet and subcabinet officials who have previously had precious little diplomatic U.S.-Mexico diplomatic experience, will devise policies toward their northern neighbor.

Notwithstanding, López Obrador underscored throughout the campaign that his objective was to strive for productive, mutually respectful relations with the United States and to support the successful renegotiation of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA). He even began to articulate some half-baked but nonetheless forward-looking proposals for joint and holistic engagement in Central America to foster economic growth and institutional resilience as a tool to reduce transmigration and enhance security there.

Mexico’s next leader does need to fully comprehend what drives Trump’s view of Mexico. It’s first and foremost a personal issue, turbocharged by political-electoral expediency and dynamics fundamental to mobilizing his base. Any proactive or containment-driven strategies devised and implemented by the next Mexican government need to take this into account. Arguing that the strategy is to “make Donald Trump respect Mexico” not only smacks of Panglossian optimism, it will most likely fail.

Washington has for too long taken for granted Mexico’s cooperation on a host of fronts like counter-narcotics, intelligence sharing, counterterrorism and curbs to Central American transmigration through Mexico. Many of these facets will most likely be up for a full-fledged and overdue review under a López Obrador administration. In many ways, the next president of Mexico will likely approach ties with the United States in a way that’s familiar to the Trump White House: Mexico First. And while Mexico will certainly not go rogue on the United States, bilateral ties under López Obrador might well pivot back to the very basic, meat-and-potatoes relationship of yore—formal and correct but lacking strategic depth.

Both leaders today stand at a crossroads: they can ensure that Mexico and the United States remain partners in success, or they can become accomplices in failure. At stake is the security and prosperity of millions of Americans and Mexicans and, despite the challenges inherent to such an asymmetrical relationship, more than two decades of a success story of convergence and greater interdependence.

       

As the sound and fury of 2017 winds down, little if any of Washington’s attention—beyond the renegotiation of the North American Free Trade Agreement and maybe Cuba—has been conferred on the Trump administration’s policies and discourse on inter-American affairs. My colleagues at a recent Brookings seminar on the political future of Latin America addressed some of the relevant issues at play in previous posts here on this blog. I will take a slightly different tack and focus on some of the lessons—and perceptions—being gleaned across the Americas as a result of the U.S. presidential election and its aftermath.

For starters, there’s no doubt that three of the pillars of President Donald Trump’s foreign policy view—as enunciated during his first major foreign policy speech in April 2016 and implemented in his first year in office—have been received with varying degrees of anxiety throughout the Western Hemisphere. These three pillars—“America First,” less U.S. predictability, and his Sinatra Doctrine of “my way or the highway”—all rub Latin American nations the wrong way and rekindle what had been generally waning perceptions of the last decade regarding a bullying and overbearing U.S. hegemon. And the three main prisms through which most Latin American and Caribbean nations viewed the U.S. foreign policy footprint in the Americas—that is, Cuba, immigration policy, and counternarcotics policy—have all experienced a reversal, if not a continued impasse or deterioration, particularly compared to the end of the Obama administration. Unsurprisingly, the U.S. national brand, soft power, and public diplomacy footprints have all taken a severe hit across the Americas, and the rest of the world for that matter.

But there’s one legacy of the 2016 U.S. presidential election and its aftermath that poses a more subtle—but probably also more relevant and prescient—challenge to democratic governance and liberal democracy across Latin America. The U.S. election was won—and lost—not on the merits and the debate over substantive and contrasting public policies, but by narrative and storytelling. The U.S. electorate went to the polls in the context of a fact-free political landscape, Teflon-coated to hard data. That “alternative facts” reared their head and gained traction as a tool to challenge and dispute any and all political views different from the mainstream political debate was no coincidence. That this was also fueled by weaponized narratives, disinformation, astroturfing and bot-farms (whether of domestic or foreign origin), and on social media platforms, fundamentally changed electoral dynamics—both in the United States and, most likely going forward, in other nations across the hemisphere that will be holding presidential elections throughout 2018.

Regardless of what Latin Americans may have thought of the 2016 electoral process and outcome in the United States, political parties, polling firms, and electoral and campaign consultants did not miss a beat as to how the 21st century political and electoral landscape has been reshaped by the Brexit vote and Trump’s against-all-odds electoral victory. Prospective candidates and their consultants in key Latin American nations have been poring over the weaponization of social media and narratives; Russia’s manipulation of Facebook, Google, Twitter, YouTube, and other sites; the role of the dark web; and how big data was employed and mobilized in the U.S. presidential election. In many ways, one of the most pernicious lessons in some corners of the Americas of the U.S. primary and general elections is that democratic institutions and the rule of law—in a region where both have historically faced significant challenges—are up for grabs via the online world, and at pretty inexpensive rates at that. For example, recent analysis has shown that the first $100,000 that the Russians spent on Facebook reached as many people as voted in the U.S. election.

You don’t have to be a rocket scientist in Latin American politics to figure out that one of the lessons of Trump’s victory is that once digital, tech, and social media companies achieved their goal of connecting the world and enacting a business model that depended on advertising, they also had to put in place techniques geared to creating online addiction. Then when smartphones came along, it created digital firepower and an opportunity to drive a level of brain hacking that had never previously been seen. It should come as no surprise that Cambridge Analytica, the behavioral, data mining, and microtargeting firm that played a relevant role both in the triumph of the “yes to Brexit” vote and Trump’s victory, has, for example, set up shop in Mexico, which faces a highly contested race; in the last two presidential elections in Mexico, there have been accusations of fraud and of campaign and voter irregularities.

[Latin America] certainly does not seem prepared for the political and ideological disruption witnessed this past year via social media.

In the last two decades, Latin America has devoted significant institutional bandwidth to hardening institutions first against democratic disruption, then against the footprint of organized crime. But it certainly does not seem prepared for the political and ideological disruption witnessed this past year via social media. The question that relevant Latin American nations will be facing in the course of 2018 and beyond—particularly those nations with presidential elections, growing high speed bandwidth, and many users with mobile phones (Mexico and Brazil, with elections in July and December, respectively, have the highest levels of broadband penetration and access to mobile phones in Latin America)—is whether they can maintain values of freedom of speech and the free flow of information while protecting themselves from domestic or foreign actors waging cyberattacks or weaponizing data for political-electoral gain. And they must understand that these threats aren’t going away. If the dynamics unleashed in the United States, with its still-relevant checks and balances, caused severe democratic damage, imagine what the domestic replication of some of these patterns, behaviors, and issues could have on nations in the Americas. This is a region, after all, where the rule of law, accountability, and democratic governance are weaker than in the United States, where the media faces relevant constraints, and where NGO, watch-dog, transparency, and whistle-blowing organizations face important governmental and institutional pushbacks.

Nations in Latin America will be forced, sooner or later, to dedicate and focus more resources to cyberprotection and to developing and adopting potent and reliable protocols, procedures, and technologies—whether in partnership with private companies, foundations, NGOs, and traditional and digital news platforms, or with other nations. They must confront these tectonic shifts and the challenges they have spawned during these last few years.

       

Mexico and the United States enjoy one of the most important bilateral relationships in the world today, with profound implications for the prosperity, well-being and security of both nations. No country touches the daily lives of more Americans than Mexico, and no country touches the daily lives of more Mexicans than the United States. In the more than two decades since NAFTA’s approval, our two countries have been converging as societies and as economies.

This complex and productive partnership is facing dire challenges as a result of Donald Trump’s demagoguery, nativism and anti-Mexico bashing, both during the campaign and in the first weeks of his administration. Unsurprisingly, a Mitofsky poll published a month ago found that, between January 2016 and February 2017, favorable perceptions of the U.S. in Mexico collapsed from 44 percent to 22 percent and negative perceptions skyrocketed from 11 percent to 41 percent. While a recent Gallup poll found that favorable perceptions of Mexico in the U.S. have actually risen to 64 percent from 59 percent in 2016—most likely as a counter-reaction to Trump’s use of Mexico as an electoral piñata — it will take time and effort to heal these wounds.

Canada, the third North American partner, was never in the crosshairs of the 2016 campaign. But the onslaught against the North American Free Trade Agreement and the general tone of the campaign also hurt U.S. relations with Canada.

We therefore must foster, as we have sought to do in the past, an understanding that each society in North America is a stakeholder in the success of the other. And as it happens, the soccer federations of Canada, Mexico and the U.S. recently engineered a potent symbol of our interconnectedness: They presented a joint North American bid to host the 2026 World Cup.

Many Mexicans, Americans and Canadians may object either to the logistics or desirability of such an endeavor; Mexicans and Canadians may rightly complain that the plan calls for the U.S. to host the lion’s share of the games: 60; while Mexico and Canada would each host just 10 early-stage games.

But a joint World Cup would be immensely practical, and our three nations would come out winners regardless of who wins the tournament. The three North American nations combined boast a huge and enthusiastic fan base. Stadiums already exist in key cities, and would likely only need upgrading, averting the temptation or need for costly new behemoths. Existing air connectivity between Mexico and the U.S., and the U.S. and Canada could be rapidly expanded, and would facilitate tourism in the short and long term. Key infrastructure, airports and border crossings in all three countries could certainly benefit from investment and upgrading, a boon to our economies and to our global competitiveness.

More important, a joint tournament would be a public diplomacy boon for the three countries. It would send a message that the U.S., which has garnered opprobrium around the world thanks to President Trump’s proposed travel ban and the construction of a border wall, is not “Fortress America.” It would also help to highlight, among other assets, Mexico’s millennial history and creative industries as vital sources for economic growth and to underscore Canada’s soft power and its core values regarding immigration and refugee policy.

Bill Shankly, the legendary Liverpool manager of the early 1970s, once deadpanned that while some people thought soccer was a matter of life and death, he knew it was much more important than that. Soccer is never just about soccer. It reflects the cultural and social crosscurrents of the world at a given time.

For Mexico, the U.S. and Canada, a joint bid for the 2026 World Cup would also be about more than just soccer. It would be about shifting mutual perceptions first and foremost, about the three nations becoming better neighbors and about creating a sense of common purpose. It would send a powerful message to our respective peoples—and to the rest of the world—regarding the nature and promise of our ties.

       

Over the past two decades, Mexico and the United States—once distant neighbors—have profoundly transformed their relationship. Driven first by the huge socioeconomic convergence triggered by the North American Free Trade Agreement, and then by the growing and more assertive security and intelligence cooperation that arose out of the imperatives of a post-9/11 world, both countries have built a strategic and forward-looking partnership predicated on shared responsibility and on the premise that if one nation succeeded, the other one would, too.

This does not mean that everything since has been peachy. A stark asymmetry of power will always persist between both countries. The past two decades of constructive and maturing relations have undoubtedly been punctuated by occasional moments of disagreement and mistakes committed by both capitals. Nonetheless, a dramatic shift occurred, both in substance and in tone. Successive governments of different political stripes on either side of the border came to comprehend that our two nations played a unique role for each other’s well-being that fed into the public narrative regarding the relationship. Octavio Paz, one of Mexico’s Nobel laureates, once wrote that Mexican and Americans had a hard time understanding one another because Americans didn’t know how to listen and Mexicans didn’t know how to speak up. The changes wrought in the relationship transformed the dynamics in that conversation, with Americans tuning in and Mexicans learning how to engage their partner to the north.

Dangerously and sadly—particularly for someone such as myself who has spent a lifetime seeking to deepen and widen U.S.-Mexico ties—the relationship is today on a knife’s edge. Throughout the 2016 presidential campaign, “alternative facts” regarding trade with Mexico or the dynamics along our common border along with a toxic anti-Mexican narrative—potentially changing the accepted rules of engagement in U.S. political discourse and public policy toward its southern partner—have seriously damaged perceptions on both sides of the Rio Grande, inflaming passions and propelling jingoism and unhelpful rhetoric.

But it took only one week of bilateral engagement between the new U.S. administration and Mexico to throw the relationship into a tailspin. An ambush of Mexican cabinet officials in Washington for initial conversations with senior White House staff, coupled with a Sinatra Doctrine/”my way or the highway” approach by President Trump toward a partner and ally, has jeopardized a mutually beneficial relationship and opened a profound diplomatic rift.

President Enrique Peña Nieto’s cancellation of his trip to initiate talks with Trump was not only unavoidable; it was right. There was no upside to coming, politically or substantively. The Mexican government, as stated, wants to link all issues of the bilateral agenda and put them on the table, while the Trump administration seeks to renegotiate NAFTA, build a wall and initiate deportations of unauthorized immigrants. But in any case, the United States, currently with only a handful of Cabinet officials confirmed and with weeks—if not months—to go before it can field the undersecretaries and assistant secretaries that manage the relationship with Mexico day to day, would not have been able to engage with Peña Nieto on a full-government approach, instead of just the issues Trump would like to address.

While Trump focuses on trade deficits (and by the way, the trade deficit with Mexico represents solely 8 percent of the total U.S. trade deficit), he’s ignoring the $236 billion in goods that the United States exported to Mexico in 2015, second only to Canada. It’s too easy to view industrializing Mexico as simply a competitor and a threat to the U.S. economy. Mexico’s strength is a boon for U.S. consumers and for U.S. productivity, thanks to our joint supply chain and production platforms. Today we trade $1.6 billion a day in both directions—out of every dollar of Mexican exports, 40 cents are of U.S. inputs. Levying tariffs on Mexican imports would therefore be an “own goal” (in soccer parlance) vs. the United States, given the nearly 5 million U.S. jobs that depend on trade with Mexico—and the 28 states in the United States that have Mexico as their first or second export market.

Mexico is not the enemy. And neither should it be taken for granted or simply be an afterthought for U.S. national security and foreign policy interests. Trump, despite his evident disdain for Mexico, cannot press Control-Alt-Delete and dispense with a nation on his border. If you approach a relationship as complex as ours—which has so many moving parts and which profoundly affects so many facets of U.S. public policy and interests—with a chainsaw, as Trump has done, you are bound to cut off your own foot.

Mexico is certainly no military power and does not possess nuclear weapons, nor cannot it threaten or challenge Washington’s core interests. But it is not toothless, either. It can impose compensatory tariffs (as we did in 2009 to ensure U.S. compliance regarding the access of Mexican trucks). Moreover, Mexico deepened intelligence and counter-terrorism cooperation with the United States after the heinous terrorist attacks of 2001, convinced that we needed to enhance North American common domain awareness, and that by having Washington’s back, we would continue to foster a vision of two neighbors and partners intent on building a paradigm of common prosperity and common security.

Neither of our two nations would benefit if Mexico decided to ratchet back our engagement on a whole series of fronts—counter-narcotics; transmigration flows; developing a paradigm for common energy security, efficiency and independence for North America; or water resources on the border—and decouple our strategic interests, seeking out other powers.

Trump does not like to lose. But the United States will not be “great again” if it scuppers the relationship with Mexico, instead of finding common ground for soft landings across the arc of our common agenda. The United States will lose as well as Mexico, to the detriment of U.S. geo-strategic interests. Mexico and the United States have done—and can continue to do—great things together. But the one thing we won’t do together is build a wall.

       

Editors’ Note: Those who advocate for a British exit from the European Union seem to think that they can turn back the clock on globalization. They can’t, writes Arturo Sarukhan, who outlines the problematic ripple effects that would likely come with Brexit. This posted is translated and adapted from an op-ed published in

El Universal

.

The famous but also apocryphal newspaper headline that supposedly ran, “Fog in the channel; Continent cut off” is not only a central tenet of what “Britishness” is supposed to look like. It also reflects a sense of British insularity and perennial ambivalence about the ties that have bound the nation throughout history with the rest of Europe. But when Britons go to the polls on June 23 to decide whether to leave the European Union, the result could be that like in the case of the famous headline, it is Britain that actually becomes dangerously isolated.

The referendum, on what has become known as Brexit, presents a number of risks for the U.K., Europe, and the rest of the world. Polls released last week show that about 44 percent of voters are in favor of staying in the EU, and 42 percent are opposed. Most British voters are thinking predominantly about domestic issues, and the impact that broader European policies—such as on migration, the euro, and market regulations—have on their own well-being.

But it’s not just the U.K. that’s channeling euro-skepticism. In a Pew survey conducted in 10 EU countries, a median of 51 percent of respondents had a favorable view of the EU. In the latest Eurobarometer survey, which covered all 28 EU member states, 45 percent of respondents said they think that the EU is going in the wrong direction, compared with only 23 percent who think the opposite. Unfortunately, the “remain” campaign in the U.K. hasn’t been very effective. Its advocates have tended to focus on the transactional nature of the decision and on what’s at stake (e.g. how Brexit would affect exports or housing prices), rather than on the compelling story, vision, and narrative of an internationalist, open, cosmopolitan Britain. It’s therefore not surprising that Britons are almost split down the middle on whether or not to stay within the EU fold.

The vote comes at a time of worldwide uncertainty, with the global economy at a potential inflection point and dangerous, populist demagogues gaining traction and strength in the United States and across Europe. These political figures are challenging the very nature of alliances and the value of immigration, as well as the fundamental notion that it behooves us all to live in an international rules-based system. Brexit would be like manna from heaven for an isolationist and nationalist like presumptive Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump. The Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP) negotiations would be on the ropes without London’s participation, for one. And after spending 43 years in the EU, the U.K. would need to renegotiate its financial, economic, commercial, and social accords with the rest of Europe—as well as countries with which the EU has free trade agreements. And although the U.K. participates in the so-called group of Five Eyes (the five English-speaking countries that cooperate closely on intelligence), Brexit would affect its role in transatlantic security cooperation and combating terrorism. Moreover, it is expected that a vote for Brexit would likely set off another pro-independence, pro-European wave in Scotland, thus fragmenting the kingdom further and continuing to exacerbate EU vulnerability. The dark forces of history—European nationalism, fragmentation, demagoguery, and xenophobia—could simply skyrocket. Needless to say, the decision on Brexit will have profound implications for British foreign policy and its role in the international arena: punching above its weight will no longer be tenable.

John Donne memorably wrote in the 17th century that “no man is an island.” Isolationism is not an option in the 21st century either; no country can shield itself from the effects of the global interconnectedness, whether climate change, transnational organized crime, cyber threats, or movements of migrants and refugees. Those who claim they can turn back the clock to some golden age do not understand the nature of globalization today, nor the serious economic and geopolitical consequences that come with trying to roll it back. As a Mexican who grew up and attended school in Wales as a young boy, I ask the British to resist the siren calls of those who propose—impossibly—to return to a past of “splendid isolation.”

       

Editors’ Note: Last week’s U.N. Special Session on the world drug problem is unlikely to overturn the existing international drug policy paradigm, argues Arturo Sarukhan, in large part because of the contradictions between U.S. domestic policy on marijuana and its international policy, and because of new drug warriors in Asia and Africa. This post is adapted from an op-ed published in Mexico’s

El Universal

.

At a first glimpse, recent events would suggest that there is a coming armistice in the ill-advisedly named “war on drugs.” In the United States, more than half of Americans polled support the legalization of cannabis; four states and the District of Columbia have already done so, and 24 others authorize the use of medicinal marijuana. Several European countries have also experimented with decriminalization, regulation, or legalization of illicit drugs. And in Latin America, one of the main battlefronts of drug prohibition, winds of change are blowing. Marijuana has been legalized in Uruguay, and countries like Colombia and Mexico are engaged in widespread and meaningful debates on how to address their drug-related challenges. 

In this context, the United Nations General Assembly Special Session on the world drug problem (UNGASS)—which was held two years earlier than initially planned at the request of Colombia, Guatemala, and Mexico in 2012—represents a historic opportunity to rethink the way the international community has been confronting this scourge to human security, well-being, and rule of law.

UNGASS…represents a historic opportunity to rethink the way the international community has been confronting this scourge to human security, well-being, and rule of law.

UNGASS comes at a time when the international drug policy paradigm is increasingly questioned, in light of the severe consequences now apparent from the drug control regime that has been in place for decades. The costs—measured in terms of prison population and social dislocation; the strain on health systems, institutions, and law enforcement; and threats to public safety and national and international security—are overwhelming. No public policy in the world over the past four decades has proven to be such a dismal failure as the prohibition of drugs, particularly marijuana. 

But to think that UNGASS will lead to a major turning point in international drug policy is like smoking too much of some of the substances currently being seized.

First, there is a contradiction in the United States between domestic policy (which is de facto allowing drug policy decisions to be made by states) and its international position, which includes eradication, interdiction, and continued criminalization of drugs as its pillars. Washington cannot keep expecting other countries to put in the resources, let alone the blood, sweat, and tears to deter production and transshipments of drugs, while allowing marijuana legalization to continue to proceed domestically. For decades, the central premise of the international drug control regime—as imposed by the United States both in multilateral and bilateral forums—postulated that cutting the production and trafficking of drugs would affect prices and consumption. You don’t need to be an Economics Nobel Prize winner to understand that if drug demand is completely inelastic and supply is completely elastic, attacking supply will only create incentives for new players to enter into the market—particularly in trafficking and distribution, where the margins of profit are the highest. Comprehending these dynamics when he was about to assume office in 2009, President Obama supported his Mexican counterpart’s proposal to conduct a blue skies, out-of-the-box review of how Mexico and the United States were fighting drugs. Unfortunately, bureaucratic agendas and resistance in the United States torpedoed the agreement, and it gained no further traction.

Second, as some countries have lost their appetite to fight illicit substances, other drug warriors have emerged. Russia and China, in particular—as well as several countries in Africa and Asia—have adopted orthodox and hardline positions and refuse to budge in reassessing international conventions in illicit drugs and drug control policy. Fifteen years ago, the United States and Europe provided the bulk of the resources for the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime; today they only contribute about 60 percent, with emerging economies putting up the remaining portion.

[C]annabis legalization alone wouldn’t end Mexico’s security problems or get at the root of organized crime; it’s not a silver bullet.

It’s unlikely that UNGASS will remedy past mistakes in drug policy, or that we will see a thorough review of how best to confront transnational criminal organizations involved in drug trafficking, for instance. Nonetheless, for Mexico, a continued impasse at the multilateral level might provide valuable time for an important discussion and thoughtful analysis going forward. It is certainly likely that legalizing marijuana in Mexico would cut income from cannabis production and trafficking. That would thereby weaken organized criminal groups and, by extension, mitigate violence at the retail level plaguing some urban spaces. The recent decision by the Mexican government to allow for the medical use of cannabis and a threshold for personal use is a good first step. But cannabis legalization alone wouldn’t end Mexico’s security problems or get at the root of organized crime; it’s not a silver bullet. The central problem Mexico faces is the endemic weakness of the rule of law, impunity, and a breakdown in the social contract. All of these facets, and more strenuous efforts to mitigate harm and combat money laundering, for example, must be strengthened in parallel with legalization. Otherwise, we will only continue to play whack-a-mole; illicit criminal activity will only be displaced, from drug trafficking to human trafficking and extortion, and from cannabis to opium and heroin, as is currently the case in Mexico.