Drug addiction in Mexico: how to stop violence in places like Juárez?

Thanks to a pair of horrific events in Juárez, Mexico’s addict population has drawn unusual international attention in recent weeks: 17 addicts were murdered on September 17 in a rehab center in the increasingly dystopian border city, and 10 more were killed days later in another facility across town.

The problems for Mexican addicts are not just limited to Juárez; drug users in many cities are increasingly vulnerable to violence fueled by the drug trade, which is more worrying when you consider the upward tendency of drug use in Mexico. Mexico has long been thought of as merely the narcotics pipeline feeding the US habit, but this description is decreasingly apt. According to the most recent National Survey on Addiction, the percentage of cocaine-using Mexicans doubled from 2002 to 2008, and the proportion of pot smokers also ticked up. The recent increases were fueled in large part by growth among drug-using youths (almost half in Mexico are between 12 and 25), which has policy-makers and experts worried that the recent gains are part of a long-term trend that will greatly deepen Mexico’s security challenges.

One of the underreported facts of Mexican drug violence is that much of the bloodshed stems not from kingpins warring with each other, but rather from street gangs battling over turf. In that sense, much of Mexico is more like an episode of “The Wire” than a sequel to “Traffic.” The increases in the domestic drug market will only intensify this trend: the greater the number of local drug users, the more money there is to be made, the more street-corners and narco-stores that are worth killing over.

But despite the gloomy picture described above, Mexico is quietly making a number of changes that will lead to a more enlightened view of addiction, and could safely release some of the building pressure described above. The first, and most famous, was the partial decriminalization of small amounts of drugs in April. The law, which came into a effect in August, allows Mexicans to carry up to a half a gram of cocaine and five grams of marijuana, as well as small amounts of other recreational drugs. (The sale of drugs remains illegal, however.)

The decriminalization places Mexico at the vanguard of a growing trend in Latin America. The former presidents of Brazil, Colombia, and Mexico headed a commission that recommended the legalization of drugs in a much talked about report released in February. Away from the white papers and in the real world of public policy, Argentina’s Supreme Court decriminalized small amounts of drugs days after the Mexican bill took effect, while Uruguay and Paraguay have long allowed personal drug use. Ecuador and Brazil are also expected to revisit decriminalization in the coming months.

The decriminalization bill was accompanied by a couple of less publicized measures that could also have a dramatic impact on the way Mexico deals with addicts. The first is drug courts; when American drug czar Gil Kerlikowske came to Mexico in July, he and Mexican attorney general Eduardo Medina Mora (who’s since been replaced) announced a pilot program of drug courts, which (according to the Office of National Drug Control Policy) “diverts non-violent, substance abusing offenders from prison and jail into treatment”. This move dovetails nicely with a subsequent Supreme Court ruling from September that addicts cannot be considered criminals in legal proceedings, but rather must be seen as suffering from a disease.

With Mexico presently implementing a deep judicial reform, now is a logical moment for moving the legal framework away from punishing addicts for their addiction. Mexico is in the midst of a transition from opaque, closed-off system to one that emphasizes the rights of the accused, presumption of innocence, oral trials, and openness as a laudable concept. Treating recreational drug users as an inevitable (if lamentable) part of society, and addicts as sick people in need of help rather than criminals in need of isolation, fits nicely within the new framework. Ideally, all of these changes mean that rather than harassing addicts and chasing small fish, the police will be able to focus on Mexico’s true menaces to public security.

Taken together, the above measures constitute a coherent re-calibration of the role of the addict in Mexican society, one that cuts against President Felipe Calderón’s reputation as a modern-day Eliot Ness. While the results of the get-tough elements of Calderón’s policies are decidedly mixed, a more enlightened view of addiction will save state resources, concentrate efforts on the bad guys, and help foster a safer Mexico for years to come.