LatinScribe

In Mexico, the rich and powerful enjoy privileges that common people in most nations couldn't imagine.

Where else could the governor of a state smaller than Rhode Island (Queretero) receive a bigger salary than the British prime minister?

Inequality, of course, goes beyond economics: according to a first-of-its-kind study, Mexicans recently discovered that governors and state executives can steal, embezzle and defraud taxpayer money without any possibility of prosecution.

The 2009 federal evaluation, "Public Servants’ Responsibility at the State Level", revealed that only 7 out of 32 states have laws in place that penalize governors (and their executive staff) for embezzlement, stealing or any other type of misappropriation.

As one newspaper recently stated: "Mexican governors perform their duties with complete impunity. They arise each morning knowing that they're untouchable".

Which is why in Mexico, the rich and powerful really are above the law.

The study also claimed that only 3 states - Hidalgo, Puebla and Quintano Roo - sanction the misappropriation of state funds, meaning that in 29 states, governors are immune from prosecution for stealing any type of government money.

PAN party leader Manuel Clouthier recently complained that Mexican state authorities are "totally exempt from prosecution: there's neither transparency nor accountability".

In Mexico, impunity starts at the top and permeates every niche and cranny of society.

It's part of the culture, something people "naturally" expect. Like the Aztec kings who ruled on the basis of divine right, Mexican leaders act with the knowledge that they can steal, blackmail and threaten (among other so-called "crimes") without ever being held accountable. Governors, mayors, union leaders, police officials, bureaucrats and federal politicos are all - in their own way - simply above the law.

For governors (as it turns out), there is no law!

That's the history of the nation and it continues today unabated.

Among Mexico City's socioeconomic elite, there's something you learn quickly: saying what you mean and meaning what you say are not that important.

This may ring true for most politicians everywhere, but in Mexico it's not just the political class: it's a commonly understood way among most people to avoid taking a stance. Sure, most Mexicans would claim (as they do everywhere) that "telling the truth" is important, but in reality - especially Mexico City and the southeast part of the country - they place higher priority on other values.

Although dodging the truth when it doesn't suit you is a universal phenomena, Mexicans have raised truth-avoidance to an art form. In business chambers, courtrooms, conference halls and back rooms throughout the nation, people lie to an extent little known elsewhere. In fact, public discourse is measured by how much one can say without saying anything. According to one prominent Mexican investigator, "lying has always been and still is - today more than ever - the principal technique used by Mexican officials to govern."

Why are Mexican politicians and the ruling elite permitted to lie so much? There are many answers to this question, many gray shades that vary according to one's point of view, factors like lack of accountability, poor education, poverty, impunity, repression...

Everyone has a different answer. But the consequence of so many lies - and the reliance on deception by nearly every politician to effectively govern - has produced a feeling among most Mexicans that nobody can be trusted, and that the rule of law and institutions themselves are ineffective.

"Why?" asks Sara Sefchovich "have Mexicans permitted their leaders to lie to such an extent?" The answer -- based on her extensive investigation -- is that Mexicans themselves depend on lies to an extraordinary degree in their daily interactions. Put differently, Mexicans are conditioned to "give people the airplane", a strategy (perhaps "state of mind" is more accurate) to avoid saying things as they are.

"Lying is embedded in Mexican public discourse in such a deliberate, profound, conscious and systematic way that aside from its inevitability it often seems absolutely necessary".

Which is what it has become in the lives of most chilangos: an artifice necessary (or so it seems) to survive.

The following quotes are from an interview with Mauricio Fernández Garza, member of one of the richest families in Mexico and current mayor of San Pedro Garza, the richest municipality in the nation.

This privileged man, now supervisor of the cradle of Nuevo Leon's elite, recently vowed publicly to rid his town of gangsters

He states his case clearly: "We mayors should have greater powers. In my case, perhaps I'll take them anyway, even if they're not given to me in any book"

Mr. Fernández has the backing of the 10 richest men and women in his state, as well as the Army, several prominent state governors, key presidential aides and every major political figure in northern Mexico.

In his own words, he shall "do everything it takes" to get the bad guys out of town - even if it means stamping on a few civil rights.

Not surprisingly, nobody (except perhaps a few frisky journalists) seems to be complaining. "We'll be subsidized by the government, but it'll also be necessary to raise funds privately. We may have to do a few things which I won't really have the authority to do but, frankly, I don't think anybody will complain".

"What if you face impeachment?" asked a journalist at a recent news conference.

"By whom?" replied Mr. Fernández.

"By citizens who disagree with you."

"But who'll know about it?" responded Mr. Fernández. "I'm saying I plan to do things, but I never said I'd give you details."

This week Mr. Fernández shall be received in Mexico City by both the Attorney General and Senate leaders to plan a project to convert San Pedro Garza Garcia into a model for every Mexican town to follow in the nation's war on drugs.

Up to now, no one has questioned Mr. Fernández's plans to take power into his own hands.

One of the journalists asked how long it would take for the promised changes to occur.

"No more extortion or bribes in my town in six months, and let me tell you this: forget about kidnappings."

"Isn't six months a short time?" asked the newspaperman.

"You're asking me and I'm telling you."

All political eyes are now on the mayor. To most of the nation's political elite, his civil rights threat is a non-issue.

As the mayor himself said: "I won't give any details now so nobody can accuse me of anything but being a good Mexican".