"Cuando se toca la música, hasta los perros bailan"
Old Mexican saying
Even the dogs dance when the music starts. It may not be in the dog's nature, but its body still sways to the beat.
Which is another way of saying that when government officials are offered compensation for favors, they take the money.
Few Mexicans think it can work any other way.
That said, appearances matter. Even in a Mexican prison, where the entire system is corrupt from top to bottom, rules are imposed and order established.
Prison directors happen to be among the richest people living in Mexico. Extortion, bribes, drugs, contraband, fraud and constant payoffs - as well as other rich revenue streams - feed a powerful underground economy which pervades every facet of Mexican "justice".
And it all flows to the top.
In many detention centers, drug dealers "own" the prison, administering its upkeep, paying salaries and maintaining order. This is no revelation: ask any Mexican police officer, district attorney or anyone who's been in a Mexican jail.
HOWEVER, what happened in Torreón breached all semblance of order.
Birthday killings
On July 18, 2010, 5 SUV-loads of imprisoned killers (nobody knows how many) were released from Readaptation Center #2 in Gómez Palacios, Durango.
They crossed state lines to Coahuila and traveled to a plush suburban neighborhood of Torreón. Armed with the prison guards' sub automatic weapons, they broke down the doors of a house party and opened fire into the crowd, killing 17 people instantly and wounding 18 others.
Just before the bloodshed started, one of them reportedly screamed: "Fuck them all!"
Smooth escape
Following the massacre, the killers drove back to Gómez Palacios - without police interference - along roads guarded by the Durango highway patrol.
Durango comandantes already knew the killers worked for the Chapo Guzmán drug cartel. Some even knew how much they got paid. Word gets around quickly within Mexican "shadow" enforcement.
What matters is that everyone gets their turn to dance.
Special field trips
Several days before the killing, a narco-confession appeared on YouTube that featured a Durango police officer captured by the Zetas admitting that he and fellow Durango cops collaborated openly with Chapo Guzmán.
During the confession, the frightened man tells his captors that the director of Readaptation Center #2, Margarita Rojas Rodriguéz, frequently allowed prisoners out at night on "field trips" to kill Zetas and other rival gang members.
At the end of the clip, the man's head is blown away by an AK-47 blast.
Innocent Governor
Although many Mexican states openly collaborate with drug traffickers (Chihuahua, Sinaloa, Hidalgo, Morelos, to name just a few), Durango is especially friendly to criminals.
Nearly every highway, prison, courtroom and legislative building in the state has been bought, monitored or sabotaged - to a greater or lesser extent - by organized crime.
Not coincidentally, Chapo Guzmán (the richest drug dealer in the world, according to Fortune magazine) lives a comfortable - most would say protected - life in Durango.
According to the state's highest authorities, nobody knows where he lives.
Durango is PRI country, and the PRI apparatus works as follows: maintain neighborhood calm, and the "families" get to operate with state protection.
Apparently, that's what happened when the killers crossed state lines on July 18 to assessinate birthday revelers in neighboring Coahuila.
Durango's PRI governor, Ismael Hernández Deras, later blamed the whole episode on the "corrupt feds".
Woman of the Year
Days after the killing, it was reported that Ms. Rojas, director of Readaptation Center #2, had been recently selected as Woman of the Year by Mr. Hernández, a tribute to her widely acknowledged standing as "the most accomplished and progressive female citizen" of Durango state.
Heartfelt appreciation, no doubt, by party faithful for the millions Ms. Rojas had showered on the PRI since her appointment as prison director.
Appearances matter
Despite the uproar over the killings, the PRI has remained silent. The idea of denouncing a comrade in arms at such a time would be considered blasphemy.
Few principles are more sacred in PRI circles than closing rank in tough times.
Besides, what the governor did was what any PRI official would have done in similar circumstances. Undoubtedly with greater caution; prisoners shouldn't be simply trusted with guard's weapons and prison SUVs.
The guv could have been more circumspect.
Partido Accion Nacional (PAN) spokesman Max Cortázar later issued a "scathing" rebuke. “The governor ought to avoid looking for people to blame outside of state government," said Mr Cortázar. "That's precisely where urgent action is most needed to guarantee the safety of Durango's families.”
After all, the facility was run by the state.
And the reputation of the Mexican political class - not to mention the hundreds of millions in Mexican taxpayer dollars spent each year on print, radio, web and prime time TV spots to laud the government's "stupendous" record ad naseum - was at stake.
How dare Mr. Hernández simply pass the blame?
