Wednesday proved to be a banner day for international law enforcement. Not only was Hafiz Saeed, the alleged mastermind behind the 2008 Mumbai terror attacks, arrested by Pakistani authorities on terrorism financing charges, but the kingpin of kingpins, El Chapo, was sentenced to life in a maximum-security U.S. prison.
Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán Loera, the head of the vicious and bloodthirsty Sinaloa Cartel, has been described by the U.S. Justice Department as “one of the world’s most prolific, violent and powerful drug cartels.” The cartel controlled some 50% of Mexico’s drug trade, and El Chapo had suspected earnings of some $3 billion.
Despite all that power and wealth, Guzmán will spend the last of his remaining days on this earth inside of a U.S. supermax prison. During the three-month federal trial in the Eastern District of New York, a litany of compelling witnesses to Guzmán’s sadistic depravity and political connections described stomach-churning details of his oversight of the torture of captured rivals and even a $100 million bribe to former Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto.
But it was the sentence, an order of confinement for life plus 30 years, along with restitution in the form of a $12.6 billion forfeiture, that stunned the senses and provided some small solace to the families of his multitudinous victims. This time, the man who had escaped two Mexican jails, would be remanded to the custody of authorities with the Federal Bureau of Prisons.
There will be no redux of his Jan. 19, 2001, laundry cart escape from Puente Grande prison in Jalisco, México, or more recently, his tunneling out of the maximum-security Altiplano Federal Prison near Toluca, México.
Guzmán will draw his last breath within the concrete walls of a secure U.S. prison facility. Of that, we can all be certain.
The aforementioned escape follies aside, we all owe a debt of gratitude to the Mexican government for having the wherewithal to understand the limitations of its own government and legal system, especially during these fractious times surrounding the border crisis. Few sovereign countries possess the necessary self-awareness to acknowledge that corruption is as much a part of their governmental and law enforcement administrations as to render necessary the employment of its nation’s military to execute criminal apprehensions.
Without its capable and valorous Army, Navy, and Marines, the capture of narco-thugs like Guzmán would be a fantasy. A nation with such a shrinking middle class presents a deep chasm between the ultra-rich and the poor. This provides drug lords like Guzmán, blessed with infinite means, the opportunity to provide a dead-end choice to the poverty-stricken police ranks.
The Spanish phrase “Plata o plomo” translates to “silver or lead,” or “money or a bullet,” as in when one is offered the stark option of execution or acceptance of a bribe. Knowing the widespread use of the phrase makes it easier to understand why in Mexico you are best served to assume corruption until proven otherwise. All of this makes Guzmán’s recapture on Jan. 8, 2016, in the Mexican coastal city of Los Mochis by the Navy in a bloody raid all the more extraordinary.
Legions of U.S. federal agents, in particular the Drug Enforcement Administration who had made Guzmán’s capture a primary mission for decades, could finally breathe a small sigh of relief. But as many who had participated in investigations of the criminal mastermind from Sinaloa knew, the hard work had just begun.
While his capture was to be celebrated, what now of efforts to ensure he truly faced justice? What truly boggled the mind, for those of us familiar with the antiquated and ponderous Mexican legal system, was a judge’s announced consideration of “El Chapo’s” extradition to the United States to face trial. There is no doubt that the Mexican government was exhausted by embarrassingly bad press that occurred following the most-wanted drug lord’s multiple “miraculous” escapes from prison. But turning him over to U.S. authorities was something that Mexican judges resisted for decades. Mexico has a proud history and a complicated relationship with its northern neighbor dating back to the Mexican-American War between 1846 and 1848.
However one deigns to view the conflict’s underpinnings and root cause, after the last volley of rifle fire, the United States swallowed up a large swath of what had once been sovereign Mexican territory. One hundred seventy-one years has done little to assuage simmering resentments. Though the prolific flood of migrants who continue to seek entry into the U.S. indicates a favorable view of this land of vast opportunity, authorities in the Mexican government forever bristle at being told how to conduct the business of their country by the U.S. And this has long been the case regarding extraditions.
When the decision was announced in May 2016 to allow for the drug lord’s extradition by an unnamed Mexican judge and approved by Mexico’s foreign ministry, it was a victory for the international community and a huge step towards furthering relations between the U.S. and Mexico, codifying the extradition process going forward. Though Guzmán’s lawyers had predictably protested that the extradition was unlawful, their legal argument was cast aside by the judge.
It was the final hurdle to reach ultimate justice and assured that justice in an oft-seeming unjust world would prevail.
The world’s most notorious drug kingpin will finally be held to account. Justice may have been delayed, but it was inevitable. “El Chapo’s” reign of terror is blessedly over. Those who appreciate the rule of law can exalt the victoria.
James A. Gagliano (@JamesAGagliano) worked in the FBI for 25 years. He is a law enforcement analyst for CNN and an adjunct assistant professor in homeland security and criminal justice at St. John’s University.
