The Dettmer Papers
A Collection of the writings of Jamie Dettmer
He was known as "the man without a face" for a good part of his long tenure as the head of the former East Germany's highly effective foreign espionage division, the HVA Stasi. Western intelligence agencies had only an old, murky photograph of the youthful Markus Wolf. Since the fall of the Berlin Wall the spymaster's face has become more familiar, at least in Europe, as he has battled, so far successfully, post-Cold War prosecutions in Germany. And he's likely to become even better-known when his autobiography Markus Wolf - Spy Chief in a Secret War is published later this year. Extracts from the book running in the German magazine Stern already are provoking much media interest on both sides of the Atlantic. And there has been widespread international news coverage of the spymaster's disclosure that he declined on the collapse of the Communist regime in Berlin a CIA offer of a small fortune and a house in California for the identity of Soviet bloc moles operating in the West. What has not been prompted by Wolf's autobiography, however, is serious press consideration of what has happened to all the Western moles the HVA managed to recruit during the Cold War - and they recruited hundreds. Wolf wasn't the only East German spy chief offered cash in exchange for the names of moles. On the fall of the Wall, intelligence officers from Britain, West Germany and Israel as well as the United States were falling over themselves to contact high-ranking Stasi officers. Britain's MI5, for example, was on a quest to unmask three Britons - code-named Armin, Diana and Sender - who spied for the Stasi in the late 1980s. The Western mole hunts were not launched simply from a desire to get the historical record straight, according to British sources. The fear was that some East German spy networks were being taken over by new masters, in particular Moscow and the Russian intelligence agencies, who received the bulk of the East German foreign espionage files and who persuaded East German spooks to encourage many of their major "assets" to transfer their loyalties to the Russians. How successful have the Western mole-hunts been? From the lack of prosecutions, one would have to deduce not very. The Stasi recruited as spies dozens of U.S. service personnel, businessmen and students in West Germany during the 1980s, according to Stasi documents, copies of which have been secured by news alert!. The East German intelligence files indicate that Leipzig-based Stasi Department 15 alone controlled during the late eighties nine American moles - one was a former colonel in the U.S. Army and another, allotted the code name "Winkler," was an American serviceman attached to the U.S. Air Force's headquarters in West Berlin. Judging by a one-paragraph mention of him in a list in one of the files, Winkler worked closely with a mole code-named "Petri," who also would appear to have been a U.S. serviceman. Both were classified as "werber" - top spies and recruiters. The other American moles listed were "Flamme," a professor living somewhere in West Germany; "Bauer," a student who had career prospects in the State Department; "Roter," an American living in Frankfurt who had connections with the U.S. military; "Venus," a civil engineer in the U.S. Army; "Colonel," a former U.S. Army colonel who lived in Heidelberg; "Tera," an American citizen living in West Berlin; and "Johann," an employee of an American multinational. Sources in Bonn's internal security agency, the BFV, say it is possible that some of these U.S. moles still may be passing secrets back to Moscow. CUSTOMS CONGEALS TO PLUG BORDER LEAKS The U.S. Customs Service is intent still on battling persistent allegations of narco-related corruption on the Southwest border rather than investigating the graft claims with an eye to getting to the bottom of them. Internal Affairs, or IA, investigators in California are concentrating their efforts on identifying border inspectors who have helped Insight with its investigative series, "Border Wars." And the U.S. attorney in San Diego, Alan Bersin, appears ready to help. His office has let it be known that any leakers identified by IA will be prosecuted vigorously, say border sources. The IA activity, of course, has an intimidatory menace to it. Customs bosses would appear to be hoping the leak inquiries will deter inspectors and agents from leaking in the future. To make it more difficult for Insight sources to secure Customs database-intelligence information, dozens of computer files, many pertaining to trucking firms owned by the alleged narcotrafficking Zaragoza Fuentes family, are being blocked from inspectors. "They are still in the computer system but we can't access them," says one source. IA investigators are trying to "prove" also that a controversial June 1996 memo purportedly signed by Customs' San Diego District Commissioner Rudy M. Camacho is a forgery. The memo, which was leaked to Insight and CBS' 60 Minutes show, "encourages" inspectors to process "as quickly as possible" trucks belonging to a firm owned by Tomas Zaragoza Fuentes. Customs bosses have told Democratic Sen. Dianne Feinstein of California that the memo is a fabrication. To counter that, four Customs inspectors have sent a signed affidavit to Feinstein saying it is genuine.
CUSTOMS AND BORDER BIGOTRY
NEWS ALERT!
By Jamie Dettmer
GORE'S SHAKY EFFORT TO PILOT AVIATION
SECURITY
After a sluggish start, Vice President Al Gore's panel on aviation security has arrived at dozens of recommendations on ways to improve airline safety. The Gore-headed commission was set up by President Clinton who, in the wake of the downing of TWA Flight 800, quickly sought to reassure travelers that prompt steps would be taken to protect them. The president gave Gore a 45-day deadline to file an initial report. For nearly half of that time virtually nothing was done: It took the White House three weeks finally to name the first seven commissioners. Most of the panel's work was rushed in the week before the deadline. The vice president added to the sense that everything was being done by-the-seat-of-the-pants: He announced his recommendations at a press conference before the report actually had been written. Federal experts on aviation security while talking to news alert! expressed irritation at what they see as a "less than professional" operation. "I suppose after wasting time they suddenly realized they'd better come up with something or it would look bad on the campaign trail," says one. Despite this, the report is not, as some feared it might be, just a cosmetic exercise. It contains some useful recommendations, including the introduction at U.S. airports of high-technology bomb-sniffing devices. But there are over-the-top recommendations as well, according to aviation-security experts - they cite the report's call for a feasibility study into equipping commercial passenger planes with antimissile devices similar to those deployed on military aircraft. One large question in particular is left unanswered by Gore's report: Why weren't half the measures and precautions recommended not standard practice already? Common sense should have dictated their implementation years ago. And in fact, some of Gore's most important must-dos were introduced in one form or another in the early 1990s but were not enforced. In aviation-security legislation passed in the wake of the 1988 airliner bombing over Lockerbie, Scotland, the Federal Aviation Administration was given the responsibility for conducting initial security background checks on airport employees. According to U.S. Customs sources, the FAA has failed miserably at its task. A senior Customs official told news alert! that "there has been a serious deterioration in security at American airports" since 1990. He claims that about 10 percent of workers at New York's JFK airport and at Los Angeles have criminal backgrounds. Gore's report makes no mention of how the FAA has failed to fulfil its security responsibilities - no heads are banged together, no names taken. So much for accountability. Further, Gore's panel appears to be completely oblivious to how turf-fighting between federal law-enforcement agencies has contributed to the undermining of aviation safety. Since 1990, Customs has had a hard time ensuring that the FAA's mistakes are corrected. The FBI has blocked Customs officers from resorting to its national criminal computer database, or NCIC, to check up on airport workers who have access to secure areas. The FBI has claimed the checks are "not allowable under NCIC policy" or that the database would be overburdened. Many Customs officers just ignored the FBI and used the NCIC system in defiance of orders. In July, shortly after TWA Flight 800 crashed, an administrative message was sent to all Customs officers from Washington instructing them to stop conducting NCIC checks. The message - news alert! has a copy - states: "If any officer is currently performing these checks for other than valid criminal justice employment purposes, this practice must be discontinued at once." Gore's report recommends that the FBI now should take over the job of checking up on airport workers. Customs officials are relieved. But they say they still are worried about their access to the NCIC database. The Gore report envisages that Customs will play a greater aviation-security role in America and overseas. "Are we going to be allowed NCIC access?" asks an inspector. "If we're not, then we can't do our job properly." According to the vice president, his recommendations can be implemented "quickly and effectively." Law-enforcement officials are having a big chuckle over that comment. CASING THE THOMASSON-LASATER CONNECTION News alert! long has harbored a special interest in presidential aide Patsy Thomasson, one of Bill Clinton's Arkansas chums. Thomasson, the White House director of personnel, has figured in virtually every dubious White House enterprise under investigation by Congress: She was present at the lengthy White House meeting on May 15, 1993, that led to the controversial sacking of the travel-office staff, and she was one of the aides who turned up in late deputy counsel Vince Foster's office just hours after his death. Now news alert! has learned that Whitewater independent counsel Kenneth W. Starr is beginning to focus on Thomasson. According to sources close to the Whitewater probe, the presidential aide is figuring in discussions about strategy currently being conducted by Starr and his prosecutors. "They're beginning to speculate that maybe they can squeeze Thomasson on Travelgate and try to force her to reveal information about the 1980s and Arkansas," says a source. The newfound Thomasson interest by Starr goes hand-in-hand, the source says, with a belief that it is time to take a closer look at former Little Rock bond-daddy Dan Lasater. Thomasson was given power of attorney by Lasater when the bond-daddy was serving his time on a cocaine-trafficking conviction.
NEWS ALERT!
By
Jamie Dettmer
TEMPERAMENTAL COMPUTER THREATENS CUSTOMS'
OPERATIONS
Every September the U.S. Customs Service undertakes an annual inventory of the property and drugs it has seized nationwide during the previous 12 months. This fall, the exercise likely will be a nightmare, according to several Customs sources, who claim a new multimillion-dollar computer database introduced last November is so faulty that they have no idea what has been seized or even the storage locations of impounded goods. That is just one of the problems the Seizure and Case System, or SEACATS, has caused since it came on-line. Designed to bring together Customs' two databases, TECS II and the Automated Cargo System, SEACATS has ripped through hundreds of previous case histories and either destroyed or tarnished them to such an extent that they now are worthless. "You put in a case number and the computer throws up the wrong case," says a frustrated Customs source. "SEACATS is blowing our institutional knowledge - the investigative consequences are going to be devastating." SEACATS also is refusing to accept some drug categories. The system doesn't like "mushrooms," for example, leading Customs headquarters to order agents and inspectors to list after a seizure or arrest a different drug category to please the database. "There are some revolts going on out in the field about this," says another source. "Court cases could get thrown out if we have the wrong drug listed. And what's going to happen if internal affairs comes snooping and accuses us of entering false data into the system?" Agents and inspectors also are concerned about the system's security. Export and import brokers have input access to the Automated Cargo System, or ACS - they can enter their manifests to speed up border crossings for their loads. Now that ACS and TECS II, a criminal and intelligence database, are connected via SEACATS, hacking opportunities have increased. Customs chiefs are keen to keep the problems under wraps. ALBRIGHT'S METTLE JACKET MAY HAVE WEAK LINKS Washington remains smitten with Madeleine Albright. America's first female secretary of state continues to bask in gushing reviews from the press and lawmakers alike. The White House barely is able to contain its glee at a love fest that shows no signs of abating. Skepticism is in order though - as it should be whenever a media bandwagon is in runaway mode. The lavish praise heaped on Albright won't, in fact, last - and not only because fickle journalists will tire of the she-can-do-no-wrong story line. Media relief at the departure from Foggy Bottom of the wooden and gray Warren Christopher will dissipate and Albright's "I don't shilly-shally" rhetoric is likely to grate when vexing problems, such as Sino-American relations, hove into view. Colorful, snappy sound bites aren't solutions. For all of the detailed coverage of Albright's family history and professional background, an unanswered question remains about the consistency of Washington's latest media darling. GOP support for Albright's selection was based on the perception that she's a hawk. But is she? Today, she basks in being described as a hawk and is fond of playing off her Czech refugee past by repeating, ad nauseam, "my mind-set is Munich; most of my generation's was Vietnam." But not so long ago the 59-year-old Albright had no trouble serving President Carter and remained less than outspoken about the dovelike policies pursued by that Democratic administration. She also had no difficulty in acting as chief foreign-policy adviser to the hardly hawkish Michael Dukakis when he mounted his disastrous bid for the presidency. During the Republican administrations of the eighties Albright was an opponent of aid to the Nicaraguan Contras and cautioned against going to war with Iraq following Saddam Hussein's invasion of Kuwait - odd positions for a muscular interventionist to adopt. Albright's abrupt transformation from dove to hawk has been skated over by the media and wasn't explored in depth by the Senate. Newsweek explained her turnaround in a single paragraph, claiming that "friends say she came to trust her latent hawkish instincts." But was the change one of political convenience? Albright's switch coincided with a shift in Democratic thinking - the party now warms, in theory anyway - to the idea of intervening for humanitarian purposes. Though steadier now, the Clinton administration at first exhibited flip-flops that left allies bewildered and encouraged enemies to be brazen. Presidential neglect led to a fragmentation of responsibility for foreign-policy making. Albright clearly is intent on putting State back at the helm. The result should be more consistency but that also will depend on Albright herself. Her unexplained change gives few clues about how unswerving she will be in the face of criticism - congressional, public or presidential.
Exposed Border Bosses
Embarrass U.S. Customs
By Jamie Dettmer
The U.S. Customs Service is fighting back
-
and not so much against Mexican drug traffickers, or border inspectors alleged to be in the pay of the narcotics barons based south of the Rio Grande, but against whistle-blowers who have provided information for Insight's ongoing "Battle for the Border" series. According to Customs employees, internal-affairs, or IA, agents have unleashed a witch-hunt aimed at identifying the sources for the border-corruption series. Armed with copies of Insight, agents have been questioning suspected Customs employees and taking them line-by-line through articles to see if they will slip up or confess to having revealed the degree of corruption. Customs Commissioner George Weise is understood to have ordered the crackdown. The search for the border sources strikes former Reagan Customs Commissioner William Von Rabb as "un-American and coming close to breaching First Amendment rights." He added: "Whether Weise likes it or not, part of the control on government comes down to public servants being able to talk to the press. That's the way we do things in this country. I have never heard of this kind of search happening before in the service's history." Art Foss, a former vice president of the National Treasury Employees Union, described the internal-affairs search for whistle-blowers as a "retaliatory and intimidatory witch-hunt." Foss questioned whether the action is aimed merely at trying to discourage Weise critics from talking to the press. He believes the move may be part of a preemptive bid to dissuade whistle-blowers from cooperating with House and Senate investigators, who are probing the series of Insight revelations with an eye toward border-corruption hearings later in the year. The IA leaks inquiry breaks a 2-year-old promise Weise made to California-based inspectors that they would not be punished for speaking to reporters. In a "To Whom It May Concern" letter dated Feb. 21, 1995, the commissioner wrote: "I want to assure you that I recognize your right to speak with news-media representatives about your perceptions which you believe evidence serious misconduct or mismanagement. Please accept this letter as my personal assurance.i" A phone request to Weise's communications director, Pat Jones, for a formal statement on the reasons for the leaks inquiry wasn't returned. Since last November Insight has been disclosing details of drug-related bribery probes at the border and reporting allegations of serious wrongdoing against, among others, Rudy M. Camacho, Customs' Pacific regional commissioner; Jerry Martin, then San Ysidro port director; and Senior Inspector Art Gilbert. A later article on the Arizona port of Douglas questioned possible corruption there too - raising, as a matter of concern, a friendship between port director Frank Amarillas and a convicted marijuana trafficker and reporting the alleged failure of the port management to ensure systematic inspection of border-crossing trucks owned by suspected smugglers or tied to particular Mexican drug cartels. The series also has outlined claims by IA agents that they are blocked from investigating corruption allegations as thoroughly as they believe is necessary. Soon after the series began, Weise and senior executives at Customs headquarters in Washington held discussions about "how to pull the teeth of stories like yours," according to a Washington-based Customs source. "What to do about them was a high priority." During one fall meeting, Weise said he saw "the lingering allegations of corruption in our workforce" as a matter of "grave concern." In an E-mail message put out to the entire service, he expressed displeasure at corruption allegations "coming from our own employees," adding: "I now feel it is time to say `enough.'" The timing of the "Battle for the Border" series coincides with revelations of high-level drug-related corruption in Mexico, also reported well in advance in these pages. Despite abundant signs to the contrary, Clinton administration officials for the last six months have been pooh-poohing the claim that there is systemic corruption on the American side of the Southwest border, too. However, on March 2, Clinton drug czar Barry McCaffrey reversed the administration's normal line and admitted during a television interview that a U.S. law-enforcement corruption problem exists. A few days earlier, during a House hearing, Justice Department official Mary Lee Warren conceded the same point.
NEWS ALERT!
By Jamie Dettmer
JUST A FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE
The fallout in Republican circles from Bob Dole's defeat is continuing apace and the mudslinging is getting into full swing. As Insight reported recently, Scott Reed, Dole's 36-year-old campaign manager, is - fairly or unfairly - on the receiving end of most of the criticism. But he isn't the only victim in the finger-pointing orgy. The Kansan's lanky press spokesman Nelson Warfield and longtime Dole aide Jill Hanson also are facing the blast of GOP disappointment. And in the finest traditions of the Washington blame-game, much of the finger-pointing involves telling tales out of school. Some of the more interesting center around the campaign's communications director, John Buckley, a former Jack Kemp aide and an old Reed friend. Buckley never has been on good terms with Dole and the Kansan's dislike for him became more intense back in 1988 when the former Senate majority leader was locked in a vicious primary fight with Kemp and George Bush. Buckley masterminded some hard hits on Kemp's GOP opponents, and at one point Dole was so angered he phoned Kemp and told him to discipline his attack dog. So there was considerable surprise in the first place when Dole conceded to a hard-pushed Reed request and hired Buckley. Dole may have taken him on board but it is emerging he didn't listen to him - not only that, but he wouldn't even talk to him from the San Diego convention onward, say GOP sources. Apparently, Dole would make an abrupt 180-degree turn whenever he encountered Buckley in a campaign office. "It was hopeless," says a source. "It just about sums up the campaign - you had a candidate who wouldn't communicate with his communications director." IT'S BORDER BUSINESS AS USUAL It wasn't so long ago that senior U.S. Customs officials, including Commissioner George Weise himself, were insisting, to the irritation of the service's rank and file, that it was impractical to search for drugs by looking under the hoods or in the trunks of the bulk of the traffic passing through the 24 land ports of entry along the Southwest border with Mexico. In defending a few months ago the controversial line-release program, a 10-year-old scheme that speeds commercial traffic across the border and allows importers to get their cargo across with little or no inspection, Weise lambasted his internal critics within Customs. "There are people [in Customs] who feel that if you don't examine physically every single shipment, every single truck i we're not enforcing, we're facilitating," he told one California newspaper. "It's absolutely physically impossible to do it. You can't examine every vehicle, every truck." Customs inspectors also were under pressure to avoid holding up private cars as well as commercial trucking and at several ports of entry they were being deterred by their local managers even from regular cursory inspection of cars - that is until drugs became an issue during the presidential campaign. When Bob Dole started to talk about the failure of the Clinton drug policy there was an abrupt shifting of gears by the powers that be in Washington who, to the amusement of Customs inspectors, suddenly ordered more-frequent searches of border-crossing traffic. "It was as though they had just invented the wheel," remarks an Arizona-based Customs supervisor. The shift in policy came in a memorandum sent to all Southwest port directors by the assistant commissioner for the Office of Field Operations, Samuel Banks. The memo, dated June 11, 1996, stated: "Drug smuggling across the Southwest Border continues to be a major enforcement concern.i The severity of this problem and the search for new and innovative solutions has led Customs to issue instructions i to increase and intensify examinations of vehicular traffic." The memo goes on to say that "more automobile trunks and hoods" should be opened and that such inspections "will boost the level of drug seizures and will act as a deterrent." Continuing to state the obvious, Banks proceeded to justify the policy thus: "The purpose of this activity is to deny the smugglers access to this method of concealment i if we fail to open the trunks, we are giving the smugglers an advantage they should not have." And they call that a new and innovative solution? Why wasn't it being done before? According to critics of Weise's regime within Customs, regular vehicular inspection became a no-no because of considerable lobbying pressure from chambers of commerce and the Mexican authorities. Weise was particularly attuned to importers' complaints and arguments about backed-up traffic, say his critics. Before becoming commissioner Weise, who is a lawyer, spent most of his career securing favorable legislation for importers. When he left law school, he entered Customs as an import specialist and later went on to work at the International Trade Commission and on the House Ways and Means subcommittee on Trade. If the new stricter policy is adhered to, some Customs inspectors predict an increase in cocaine seizures. Last year, three ports of entry failed to make even one cocaine seizure - Sasabe and Lukeville in Arizona and Santa Teresa in New Mexico; Andrade in California managed just one.
At the start last fall of its "battle for the border" series, Insight reported specific allegations of misconduct and mismanagement against some senior U.S. Customs Service personnel in California, including San Ysidro port director Jerry Martin and his deputy, Art Gilbert. Customs Commissioner George Weise was outraged by the report and defended the officials. Last month, however, Gilbert was removed from his post and advised to hire an attorney pending his dismissal from the service. Customs internal-affairs, or IA, investigators proposed his termination after two disciplinary probes found he'd broken several of the service's regulations. Martin also has left San Ysidro. He has been relocated to a desk job in the California district office, and Customs sources in San Diego say he's heading for early retirement. Bobbie Cassidy, Customs' regional spokeswoman, declined to discuss Gilbert with news alert! "We don't comment on personnel matters," she remarks. But several sources at San Ysidro provided chapter and verse on the findings of the two "Red Book" investigations into Gilbert. One of the IA investigations involved four breaches of conduct. Gilbert was found to have used his government vehicle for private trips including unauthorized travel to Mexico and to have abused the overtime system to enrich himself. He also was discovered to have made racist and sexist remarks. The second - and technically more serious - probe confirmed an allegation Insight reported: Gilbert had permitted a Mexican Customs official to return to Mexico after he had been stopped on the border while driving a stolen Ford Explorer. Cassidy insists Martin's transfer is merely a lateral move and that nothing untoward has been found. "There's a lot of movement here," she says. "A lot of people are being switched around." But Customs sources in San Diego and Washington say Weise has ordered a "clean-up" in California "for the good of the service." There is, though, considerable frustration among inspectors at San Ysidro, who argue punches are being pulled and that several more serious corruption allegations against senior personnel are being buried. Neither "Red Book" investigation into Gilbert examined an alleged and disturbing relationship between Gilbert and convicted drug trafficker Jose Gomez Chaidez who, during one three-week period, received 207 phone calls from Gilbert's home phone. Gilbert, when challenged by FBI agents during another probe, insisted he knew nothing about the calls and that a member of his family must have made them, he said. Likewise, Gilbert's almost non-existent credit history remained unexplored by the "Red Book" investigations. Further, inspectors argue that no effort has been made to get to the bottom of the claim by Customs dog-handler Jeff Weitzman that Gilbert attempted to prevent him in October 1990 from detaining and searching an 18-wheeler tanker owned by HidroGas de Juarez, which later was found to have nearly 4 tons of cocaine on board. Bribery allegations against district commissioner Rudy M. Camacho remain the subject of inquiry by the Treasury Department's office of the inspector general, but sources say that probe is meandering along without direction. Meanwhile, at the California port of Calexico, IA investigators, who already have arrested one Customs inspector recently on corruption charges, are closing in on a Customs secretary who is accused of selling intelligence to Tijuana's Arellano Felix druglords. At least one other Calexico inspector is under suspicion. SENATE LEADERSHIP CALLS FOUL ON HATCH "Latter-Day Liberal" was how National Review described Sen. Orrin Hatch of Utah in a recent edition. The magazine's profile of the chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee concluded that Hatch had moved away from his conservative roots and had become a pushover for a Clinton administration determined to appoint liberal activists to federal judical benches around the country. Conservative complaints indeed have been building up against Hatch since last summer. Thomas Jipping, director of the Free Congress Foundation's Center for Law & Democracy, has maintained a constant drumbeat of disapproval. And several GOP senators on the Judiciary Committee have - behind closed doors - clashed sharply with the chairman in the fall and accused him of going too easy on the administration's nominations. In the face of criticism, Hatch has argued consistently that it is not his job to hold up or prevent the appointment of a president's nominees, liberal or not. Last summer, he told Insight he believed he could only object to nominees who showed a tendency to rewrite the law, and he expressed concern about "politicizing the nomination process." Hatch, though, has been hardening his line during the last few weeks. Congressional sources say he was "staggered" last month when almost the entire Republican Senate leadership, including Majority Leader Trent Lott, turned on him and voted on the floor of the Senate against his recommendation to confirm Merrick Garland as a District of Columbia federal judge - Garland only got through on Democratic and moderate GOP votes.
U.S. Drug Warriors Knock
on Heaven's Door
By Jamie Dettmer
Most tourist
guidebooks about Mexico don't even mention the border city of Juarez. The few
that do are scathing. "There's little doubt that the best thing to do on
arriving in Ciudad Juarez is to leave," remarks one travel guide. Wise
advice indeed. Originally a small settlement on the Santa Fe trail known as
Paso del Norte, Juarez is Mexico's fourth-largest city but has few claims to
historical fame and no architectural charm. Sprawling and ugly and dwarfing
its cheek-by-jowl American neighbor El Paso, Juarez has a reputation for
danger that is fully deserved. Even hardened border Americans who flock to the
Mexican city on weekends for the cheap booze and whores treat Juarez with
caution: They party in the bars and brothels of the squalid main drag but
steer clear of the dimly lit downtown side streets - the preserve of los
pandillas, vicious street gangs responsible for a couple of hundred murders
every year. Gang violence is but a stitch or two in the menace woven deeply
into the city's fabric, for Juarez also enjoys two booming export economies.
On the outskirts 350 mainly U.S.-owned modern factories, or maquilas, churn
out electronic appliances and furniture for a consumption-hungry America. The
other economy also pumps out products purchased north of the Rio Grande, but
it remains mostly hidden, and inquiry by strangers can lead to barbaric
violence and mysterious disappearances. For Juarez is the town of the
"Lord of Heaven," Amado Carillo Fuentes, the top Mexican
narcotrafficker whose capture has become a major priority for a Clinton
administration under intense congressional pressure to stop the flood of
Mexican drugs into the United States. From mansions in the upmarket Juarez
district of Condesa, Carillo oversees an international crime empire that
employs thousands and is bigger and more powerful than even the Colombian
narcoenterprises of the late 1980s. Last month on Capitol Hill, U.S. Drug
Enforcement Administration, or DEA, head Tom Constantine described the Carillo
Fuentes network as "staggering" and warned that the 41-year-old
godfather is "attempting to consolidate control over drug trafficking
along the entire Mexican northern border." Every week, the Juarez cartel
generates an estimated $200 million in profit - the ill-gotten reward for
annually spiriting 100 tons of cocaine and large shipments of heroin and
methamphetamines across the Southwest border. Since April 1993 when he
succeeded to the leadership of the Juarez cartel through "the evolution
of violence," to quote a veteran U.S. lawman, Carillo and his cohorts
have made El Paso's neighboring city their own in much the same way Colombian
drug baron Pablo Escobar ruled Medellin as a personal fiefdom - local Juarez
newspapers don't write about him and police chiefs don't dare arrest him.
"He's insulated," says Phil Jordan, a former top DEA agent. And in
February, the scope of Carillo's influence elsewhere in Mexico was dramatized
starkly when Gen. Jesus Gutierrez Rebollo, the Mexican drug czar, was revealed
to be one of the Lord of Heaven's paid retainers - a discovery that prompted
outrage on Capitol Hill and led the House of Representatives to declare Mexico
a delinquent ally in the war against drugs. Despite being the DEA's public
enemy No. 1, having been indicted in absentia on drug charges in Texas and
Florida, Carillo seems to be so confident of his ability to stay one step
ahead of American law enforcement that he continues to slip cockily across the
border on periodic business trips and shopping sprees to Las Vegas, Dallas,
Houston and Los Angeles, though with less frequency than before. And in
Mexico, where he's wanted on a mere firearms violation, he operates with an
impunity that flows from bribery and brutal intimidation - from pesos and
bullets. The tale of Carillo's rise is for some U.S. drug warriors a story
wrapped up in an enigma. The puzzle? Why has the Lord of Heaven - he earned
the nickname because of his large fleet of drug-smuggling airliners - become
the 1990s border version of Chicago's Al Capone in such short time? "I've
seen him shoot from an acorn into a tree," remarks a recently retired
senior DEA agent. The other, more pressing, conundrums for DEA agents are how
to take him down and why there isn't more political backing from Washington to
launch an all-out special-operations bid to nail Fuentes and his associates.
Texas-based DEA agents recently were so concerned about the Clinton
administration's softly-softly approach to Mexico and drugs that they
refrained from informing superiors in Washington of an explosive investigation
they've mounted into alleged links between Carillo and luminaries of the
ruling Mexican PRI party. The agents have targeted a former personal secretary
of ex-President Carlos Salinas and former Mexican Transport Secretary Emilio
Gambao Patron, who also is a member of the current Mexican administration.
"Upstairs in Washington there's a real fear about rocking the boat with
Mexico," says a senior DEA agent. From hundreds of pages of top-secret
U.S. and Mexican intelligence documents and interviews with dozens of current
and former lawmen and informants on both sides of the Southwest border,
Insight has pieced together an exclusive profile of the highly clandestine
Juarez cartel. It is the story of Carillo himself and of one of the cartel's
five main families, the Zaragoza Fuentes family of El Paso and Juarez, who
allegedly transport drugs and launder money for the Lord of Heaven and who
alone control a byzantine network of hundreds of real and sham companies
stretching from Mexico City and Guadalajara to New York and the Bahamas. What
emerges from informed law-enforcement sources and intelligence reports is a
ruthless trafficking organization that has managed to enmesh itself
insidiously with the post-North American Free Trade Agreement economies of the
southern states of America and the northern states of Mexico. "To
appreciate the cartel's scale you should think of it as the criminal
equivalent of General Motors," advises a DEA agent. "Juarez is a
company town every bit as much as Detroit." From Juarez the tentacles of
the cartel stretch far and wide - from the coca-producing countries to the
south of Bolivia and Peru, through the cocaine-shipment nations of Colombia
and Guatemala and then on up north to American cities such as Houston, Little
Rock and Chicago and deep into Canada. The cartel's money-laundering network
unwinds even further afield: Eastward, this time to hundreds of banks in the
Bahamas, London, Frankfurt, Switzerland and Hong Kong, only to loop back to
Juarez in the form of "clean" investment in some of the border
maquilas and to Texas, New Mexico and other southern U.S. states, where
Carillo and his lieutenants and associates are purchasing businesses and vast
tracts of land. The extent of their "legitimate" business holdings
is enormous. Civil associations, sports clubs, shopping malls, nightclubs,
luxury hotels, restaurants and ranches all are included in the cartel's
property portfolio. Senior DEA agents even allege the Juarez traffickers wield
ultimate behind-the-scenes ownership of one of Mexico's major private
airlines, Taesa, which Insight can reveal is the focus of a secret Texas-based
U.S. probe. Cartel associates, in this case the Zaragoza Fuentes family, run
one of the world's largest propane gas import-and-export businesses, which
during the 1980s inexplicably escaped punishment when it defied American
embargo regulations and shipped Texas propane to Nicaragua, according to U.S.
Customs database reports in the Treasury, Enforcement and Control System, or
TECS. The Zaragoza Fuentes also are Mexico's main milk suppliers, and the
current head of the clan, Tomas, has a major interest in at least one Texas
bank. For all of Mexico's top traffickers - the Arellano Felixes in Tijuana,
the Meraz family in San Luis, the Quinteros of Mexicali, the Amezcua of
Guadalajara and the Esparragoza-Moreno organization - the last four years have
been boom time. From being diligent junior partners of Colombia's Cali and
Medellin cartels they have emerged as the Western Hemisphere's undisputed drug
kingpins, and in passing have brought Mexico to the very brink of becoming a
narcostate. But it is Carillo's network that has benefited the most. Much of
the Lord of Heaven's present success is a harvest of the past. The Juarez
cartel is no new underworld growth. It has been rooting itself in the Mexican
state of Chihuahua and in the northern towns of Hermosillo, Torreon and
Durango since 1980 when it was formed by legendary marijuana-smugglers Rafael
Aguilar Fajardo and Baldomero Fuentes Garcia. In 1987, the Juarez traffickers
branched out into the even more lucrative cocaine trade. Only then did the
Mexican attorney general's office, or PGR, start paying them much heed. One
early strategic PGR goal involved outlining the cartel's bribery ties with law
enforcement on both sides of the border. According to 1988 PGR intelligence
updates, even at this stage the Juarez drug barons were highly active in
bribing Mexican officialdom and in securing the paid collusion of American
border inspectors. Apparently, one Gustavo Tavo Silvera was a Juarez cartel
contact with U.S. Customs inspectors at El Paso's Zaragoza and Sante Fe border
bridges - the Customs officials were paid "$10,000 for each car that was
allowed to cross. Each car would sometimes be loaded with as much as 300
kilograms in drugs," according to one update. Anxiety about the Juarez
cartel's corruptive influence became a constant refrain in secret Mexican
reports from then on. In 1992, a top PGR goal remained "knowing the
group's ties with authorities who facilitate their work on both sides of the
border." U.S. agencies were "just AWOL when it came to Mexican
traffickers for most of the eighties," concedes a high-ranking DEA agent.
"All our attention was focused on the Colombians. We were condescending
about the Mexicans - we just saw them as wetbacks and gun-toting pistoleros."
But not all U.S. lawmen saw them this way. A retired Southwest border Customs
agent adds: "Some of us started to document the Juarez boys and the
Arellano Felixes in the early and mid 1980s, but no one further up the Customs
or DEA hierarchies would pay any attention to us about the magnitude and how
rapidly these guys were climbing the ladder. They just didn't understand the
validity of monitoring and attacking emerging crime organizations." As
far as the Juarez cartel went, complacency ended on Sept. 28, 1989, when a tip
led DEA agents to a warehouse in the Los Angeles suburb of Sylmar i and to the
biggest drug bust in U.S. history. More than 20 tons of cocaine were found by
shocked officers - a tremendous, albeit unwitting, DEA score that ironically
led to the ascendancy of the Lord of Heaven. Sylmar helped U.S. and Mexican
law enforcement to arrest within four years the cartel's original leadership.
Rafael and Eduardo Munoz Talavera, the linkage with the Cali cartel, were
imprisoned in 1993, and Rafael Aguilar Guajardo, a former Mexican federal
police chief who rose to head the cartel, was gunned down in April 1993 while
on a Cancun holiday by rivals, possibly within the cartel, who feared he was
making a deal with Mexican authorities to avoid seizure of his assets .
Aguilar had been especially anxious not to forfeit a soccer team and a
magazine, according to a leaked PGR report. Amado Carillo Fuentes took over.
He came with impeccable drug credentials. Family ties and family-arranged
smuggling apprenticeships cleared the way for him to grasp command. Born in
the Sinaloa mountains near Culiacan - where most of the dominant Mexican
trafficking families trace their roots - Carillo began to learn his trade
young, and right at the feet of Uncle Ernesto Fonseca Carillo, one of the
three top drug barons of the eighties. Along with brothers Cipriano and
Vicente, he started at the bottom - depositing marijuana at safe houses.
Through his uncle he later went to work for the heroin-smuggling Herrara
family in the neighboring state of Durango, where he struck up a wild
friendship with godfather Jaime Herrara Nevares' son Jaime Jr. The two were
inseparable, says an informant who worked later for Cipriano. They played
hard, smoked dope, crashed cars and visited whorehouses together - Carillo is
believed to have at least two illegitimate children. The Durango years were
not Carillo's most reckless. During the mid-eighties the young Sinaloan became
the lieutenant in Chihuahua of the freewheeling, freebasing Pablo Acosta
Villareal, an ill-disciplined and flamboyant drug baron who pioneered using
light aircraft to ferry drugs across the border. When his gunslinging addict
of a boss overstepped the mark and was killed in a 1987 shootout with Mexican
police, Carillo fled and teamed up with brother Cipriano in the Durango town
of Torreon. That union lasted two years as 1989 saw deep and bloody rivalries
break out among the trafficking families, prompted by the arrests of several
top smugglers, including Carillo's uncle, for involvement in the torture and
murder of DEA agent Enrique "Kiki" Camarena. Capriano died in
mysterious circumstances - an AK-47 bullet to the mouth finished him. It isn't
known when Carillo returned to Chihuahua state nor exactly how he slithered up
the cartel's hierarchy, though some drug watchers south of the border suspect
the close ties he formed during his apprentice years with the Cali cartel's
Miguel Rodriguez Orejuela were crucial. The detailed ins and outs aside, three
things are clear about the Lord of Heaven: He's quick to seize opportunities
and exploit the misfortunes of rivals which he often engineers, he's a shrewd
and patient tactician and he generally balances savage retaliation with a
readiness to compromise and form alliances. Certainly Carillo benefited from
inheriting a cartel that was well-organized and rich even before his elevation
to drug-baron status. According to PGR assessments, in 1988 and 1989 the
cartel moved 250 tons of 100 percent pure cocaine with a street value of $21
billion. But with remarkable swiftness he has transformed Mexico's
narcotrafficking pecking order and established the Juarez organization as
pri-mus inter pares. "Amado has wrestled the top spot - the other
families, particularly the Arellano Felixes, resent it but in the end he's in
the driving seat," says a Customs source. One way he secured his position
was to enrich his cartel even further by pioneering the use of Boeing 727s and
French Caravelles to shift massive Colombian cocaine loads into Mexico. And
Carillo has maintained his grip and expanded his influence by continuing to
learn from the indiscretions of his onetime boss Acosta: He can be the
homicidal gunslinger with rivals or associates suspected of inefficiency or
disloyalty but he also can be a peacemaker and has widened the cartel by
contracting out drug loads and shipments to new families, say DEA agents.
Until recently he presided over regular secret meetings with the bosses of
rival cartels, including the Arellano Felixes and the Meraz and Quinteros
families, according to a highly placed informant who infiltrated one of the
cartels for U.S. Customs and the DEA. In an interview with Insight the
informant says Carillo met other family heads about every 90 days at a resort
near Golfo de Santa Clara. Fearful of U.S. electronic surveillance, the
narcotraffickers would only talk business when out on a luxury fishing vessel
in the Gulf of California. The purpose of the meetings? "Straighten out
differences and keep the flow of business going without the disruption of
cartel violence," says the source. Those get-togethers no longer take
place - fearful of Carillo's capo di capo ambitions the Arellano Felixes have
tried at least once to kill the Sinaloan. But he is a difficult man to murder
as well as being a difficult man to arrest. Carillo trusts a tiny inner
circle, which includes his Juarez underboss brother Vicente and some Herrara
family members. Vigilant about security, Carillo in the past has hired former
Israeli intelligence agents and former British Special Air Service soldiers
for advice, according to a DEA source. "He's paranoid about security
concerning himself or the cartel generally," comments a U.S. lawman. He
even has a unit monitoring the American and Mexican media for leaks. His own
travel is planned with White House precision: First, and weeks ahead of any
trip, intensive and prolonged electronic surveillance of police radio bands is
conducted in any area he intends to visit on either side of the border. Days
before Carillo's scheduled arrival his bodyguards flood the area to check for
unusual on-the-ground police activity - when satisfied he's safe, Carillo
arrives in a specially converted bullet- and bomb-proof car, generally an
upmarket four-wheel-drive vehicle. Probing for weak links that could lead them
to their quarry, U.S. lawmen tasked with bringing Carillo down identify only
two: a cocaine habit and alcohol binges. "When he's real high or launched
on a drinking session he can be unthinking and terrifyingly violent,"
remarks a senior DEA agent. "If he's going to make mistakes it'll be when
he's full of powder or drink." Apart from those two flaws, there's little
to go on when targeting the Lord of Heaven - especially when Mexican
authorities are reluctant to go for Carillo directly or are paid to stay away.
Mexican federal judicial, or FJP, policemen supplement Carillo's Condesa
bodyguards, concede PGR sources. Likewise, FJP officers are helpful in
guarding Juarez cartel airstrips, including, an informant tells Insight, four
located at the 11,000-hectare Rancho Nuevo, northeast of the small Mexican
town of Morelos, which once was owned by the late state governor, Teofilo
Borunda. The Juarez cartel devotes at least 10 percent of its income to paying
off Mexican officials and lawmen, the PGR estimates. The now-splintered Gulf
cartel, until recently run by convicted drug lord Juan Garcia Abrego, boasted
the best political connections of all the Mexican narcoenterprises during the
administration of President Carlos Salinas, but this is Carillo's time. Via a
former Abrego lieutenant, Oscar Malherbe de Leon, under arrest in Mexico,
Carillo has roped in some of the Gulf cartel's purchased politicos to add to
his own. The other Juarez families also are well placed with political
connections, especially the wealthy Zaragoza Fuentes, whose alleged
trafficking activities are voluminously documented in PGR and U.S.
law-enforcement databases. Despite a welter of criminal intelligence held both
sides of the Southwest border on the Zaragoza Fuentes, the family has remained
virtually untouched by law enforcement. This is alleged to be the result of
the high-grade Mexican political connections they enjoy. TECS reports say, for
instance, the family has relatives of former Mexican attorney general and
former Chihuahua governor Oscar Flores Sanchez, including his son Oscar Flores
Tapia, working for them. But the family has remained undisturbed in the United
States as well: In spite of a major IRS tax-violation case against members of
the family in Texas, and seven years of detailed narcotics allegations against
them, no asset-forfeiture efforts have been mounted by American authorities.
This has led some former and current DEA and Customs agents to complain about
lack of direction and political will in the war on drugs. An old Juarez
family, the Zaragoza Fuentes are related by blood to Carillo Fuentes and by
marriage to the original cartel leaders - a cousin, Pedro, is the
brother-in-law of the two Rafaels, Munoz Talavera and Aguilar Guajardo.
According to U.S. intelligence reports (copies are held by Insight), the
patriarch of the family was Miguel Sr., who had four sons - Miguel, now 62,
Eduardo, 59, Tomas, 52, and Ricardo, 43 - and one daughter - Irma. Their story
is one of rags to riches - Miguel Sr. started out as a kitchen-cabinet
salesman. On the face of it the family owns or controls a vast empire of
legitimate businesses stretching from the United States through Central
America and extending east to the Bahamas and Germany. A 35-page U.S.
multi-agency intelligence-analysis records: "The Zaragoza-Fuentes family
heads one of the world's largest suppliers of LP (liquid propane) gas. Through
a myriad of companies, the family operates and controls business interests
ranging from LP distributing to maritime shipping, trucking, aviation, land
holdings, management companies and banking interests." Family companies
are licensed by PEMEX, the state-owned Mexican oil industry, to supply propane
to the whole of Mexico. But "behind the vertically integrated companies,
the horizontally related companies, the real companies, the shell companies,
the web of shared addresses and the recurring names is a second empire ...
built on narcotics smuggling, money laundering, income-tax evasion, export
violations and weapons smuggling," says the intelligence analysis. Both
Mexican and U.S. authorities initially launched separate probes into the
family in October 1990 after Customs officials at the California Otay Mesa
port of entry discovered four tons of cocaine in a Hidrogas de Juarez tanker
owned by the Zaragozas (see "Megacorruption at the Border," Nov. 11,
1996). But the inquiries petered out. In 1994, a joint U.S.-Mexico
money-laundering investigation into the family, Operation Cobra, floundered
when Mexican law-enforcement agencies refused to cooperate. "The
propane-gas companies were not looked into this side of the border as early as
they should have been," complains a former Customs agent. Why? "We
just weren't gung-ho enough." Former DEA agent Jordan, who until 1995 was
director of the El Paso Intelligence Center, a federal information-sharing
facility, complains: "We knew about HidroGas and the other trucking
companies but did nothing. We should have closed them down - still
should." Insight has identified more than 60 Zaragoza Fuentes-owned or
-controlled firms, some of which, despite strong U.S. suspicions of drug
trafficking and money laundering, are participants in the border line-release
program, a Customs import-export scheme designed to speed trucks through U.S.
ports of entry by reducing cargo inspections. Dozens of Zaragoza Fuentes
tankers pass daily through American land crossings. They just keep on
trucking. But Insight efforts to reach a family spokesman were unsuccessful.
The Zaragozas' charmed life has been long. Back in the mid-1980s, U.S.
authorities failed to intervene after discovering that firms owned or
controlled by the family, including Western Energy, Warren Petroleum, Paso del
Norte, Gas Del Tropico and HidroGas of Juarez, broke the American embargo on
Nicaragua and exported propane gas and liquid petroleum to the Sandinistas via
Honduras and Guatemala. "We were sleepwalking then and still are,"
remarks a DEA agent. "Now we have to try to deal with a cartel that has
an annual income which rivals our entire federal antidrug budget."
****GRAPHIC (COLOR) KEY PLAYERS VICENTE CARILLO FUENTES Brother of Amado
Carillo and the cartel's underboss, in Juarez. Vicente organizes cocaine
transport across the border. TOMAS ZARAGOZA FUENTES Considered the head of the
family; married with one son, also called Tomas and allegedly a
narcotrafficker. MIGUEL ZARAGOZA FUENTES Married with several sons - two died
in car crashes - Miguel is reputed to be a womanizer with a Texas mistress.
FBI Has Grounded
Airport Security
By Jamie Dettmer
Once upon a time it was fun
to travel by air. The lines for checking in weren't too long and the
security wasn't so intrusive. Altogether, everything was more relaxed and no
one really needed to be at the airport a couple of hours before a flight.
Now everything has changed. Computers don't seem to have streamlined
anything - in fact, quite the reverse. I bet time and motion studies
comparing how quickly an airline clerk can check in passengers today with
the speed it took in the precomputer age would show how sluggish everything
has become now. Computers aren't the only reason, of course, for how
nightmarish air travel has become. The sheer volume of flights and the
increasing number of passengers have contributed to the unpleasantness.
Airports are clogged. Has anyone out there been on a flight recently that
actually took off or arrived at its destination on time? And increasing
security hasn't helped to make air travel an easy, friendly experience. I
seldom am able to be in American airports without cursing Vice President Al
Gore. The aviation-security commission he headed back in the wake of the TWA
Flight 800 crash imposed a series of new measures that have resulted in more
inconvenience for passengers. Not being able to check baggage at curbside
for international flights is a real pain, for example. Better to be safe
than sorry, you might argue. Surely tightened security is to everyone's
benefit? I don't disagree about the need to make life harder for terrorists.
After having covered terrorism and its bloody consequences in Northern
Ireland, the Middle East and Europe, I understand that better than most. But
help to improve security with a lot of its recommendations, and it failed to
appreciate that the biggest security gaps and loopholes are not with the
passengers but are air-side with airport and airline personnel. In the days
following the Gore report, I wrote in Insight: "In aviation-security
legislation passed after the 1988 airliner bombing over Lockerbie, Scotland,
the Federal Aviation Administration, or FAA, was given the responsibility
for conducting initial security background checks on airport employees.
According to U.S. Customs Service sources, the FAA has failed miserably at
its task. A senior Customs official says that `there has been a serious
deterioration in security at American airports since 1990. He claims that
about 10 percent of workers at New York's JFK airport and at Los Angeles
have criminal backgrounds." Gore's report made no mention of how the
FAA failed to fulfill its security responsibilities - no heads were banged
together, no names taken. Furthermore, the panel was utterly oblivious to
how turf fighting between law-enforcement agencies contributed to the
undermining of aviation safety. And that problem still has not been
corrected. Since 1990, Customs has had a hard time ensuring that the FAA's
mistakes are corrected. The FBI has blocked Customs officers from resorting
to its National Crime Information Center, or NCIC, database to check up on
airport workers who have access to secure areas. The FBI has claimed that
the checks are "not allowable under NCIC policy" and that the
database would be overburdened. Every now and again, Customs has raised the
issue to try to persuade the FBI to alter its policy but to no avail.
Customs Commissioner Ray Kelly is going to try again now following the Aug.
25 sting operation by Customs and the Drug Enforcement Administration, or
DEA, at Miami International Airport which resulted in the arrest of more
than 50 airline employees on drug-smuggling charges. The ramp workers - they
were employed by American Airlines - and food handlers employed by Lufthansa
Service Sky Chefs apparently were smuggling anything from cocaine and heroin
to hand grenades and guns from Latin America to cities along the Eastern
Seaboard. In one case, the DEA says an American Airlines employee arrived at
the airport on his day off and used his security clearance to retrieve a
handgun and three grenades from an incoming flight. He then used his
free-flight benefits, boarded a plane with the contraband and flew to
Philadelphia. According to U.S. Attorney Tom Scott, the existing security
measures at Miami were broken time and again. He added that the breaches
were "extremely serious" and in the age of domestic terrorism the
current situation is intolerable." Kelly hasn't minced his words either
and has made it clear that the problem may not be reserved just to Miami.
Other probes are under way. And Customs sources raised with me again the
"problem of background checks on airline employees" and the FBI's
refusal to allow Customs officers to access the NCIC database. "This
sting has highlighted the problem. We can't do our job properly, and with
the airlines being too lax about their checks on prospective employees we
have a real problem." So, when you are frustrated by the intrusiveness
of airport security, maybe you should follow my unpopular example and
express at every possible opportunity how everyone is wasting their time
until security air-side has been sorted out.~JD
A Smuggler's
Flying Dream
By Jamie
Dettmer
Are you kidding me? We
approved what? To whom?" The reaction from the State Department
official was one of shock. "That's just great, just great!" It
isn't every day that a normally staid diplomat lets down his professional
guard and expresses gut outrage, but then it isn't often that Uncle Sam
supplies surplus U.S. military aircraft to Mexican drug smugglers. The
type of aircraft concerned? Lockheed Hercules C-130s, the robust tactical
multimission plane that's been the cargo-hauling mainstay of the U.S.
military and the armed services of friendly nations since the 1960s. To
let a drugs cartel - in this case Mexico's second largest - get its hands
on one Hercules may be regarded as a misfortune. But what about two? That,
to paraphrase Oscar Wilde, looks like carelessness. The cock-up began to
come to light last October when the Mexican attorney general ordered the
seizure of Aero Postal, a Mexican air-freight firm discovered to have ties
with the Arellano Felix brothers, Benjamin and Ramon, who control the
Tijuana drugs cartel. Two former U.S. Air Force C-130s and a Boeing 737
belonging to the company were impounded and remain grounded at Mexico City
airport. There was a flurry of brief Mexican press reports at the time
about the attorney general's intervention, but the scale of the Tijuana
cartel's C-130 capability was missed - and so were the mistakes Uncle Sam
made in letting the planes head south of the Rio Grande. While the Clinton
administration has been trumpeting its law-enforcement success in recent
weeks with Operation Casablanca, the $87 million money-laundering sting
that led to the arrests in mid-May of dozens of Mexican bankers, U.S.
officials haven't been advertising the multiagency debacle that between
1993 and 1997 gave the Arellano Felixes the opportunity to transport tons
of narcotics on board the now-impounded C-130s. Aero Postal also was
considering at one time leasing two other Air Force C-130s, which have a
market value of about $5 million each. How the planes got into the
possession of the Tijuana cartel - remember that one of the Arellano Felix
brothers, Ramon, was added last year to the FBI's 10 Most Wanted List - is
a story worthy of a made-for-TV movie. According to a senior agent with
the Drug Enforcement Administration, or DEA, the comedy of bureaucratic
errors that led serious "bad guys" to secure the aircraft - the
C-130 is any smuggler's dream plane - also is a case study in "our
inept war on drugs." The DEA agent adds: "We battle to take from
the traffickers with one hand and we give with the other. They remain
alert and we lack vigilance." The "giving" has irritated
the Mexican government, frequently the butt of harsh U.S. criticism about
its failures to curb the drugs trade. But Mexico City hasn't raised a
public hue and cry, hence the lack of American press coverage on the
matter. The muted nature of the Mexican pro-tests - the issue has been the
subject of behind-the-scenes talks between officials of the two
governments - is a reflection, Justice Department sources claim, of Mexico
City's recognition that there's plenty of blame to go around. Lockheed
built the two planes involved for the U.S. Air Force. Their Air Force
numbers were 570517 and 570518. After long military histories they were
were mothballed, at different times and separately, at Davis-Monthan Air
Force Base near Tucson, Ariz., according to the Lars Olausson Lockheed
Hercules tracking book published in Sweden. The two left the boneyard at
Davis-Monthan after being swapped with private U.S. concerns for antique
planes worthy of exhibition in national air museums. The exchanges were
part of a controversial U.S. government program that was the subject this
year of a major federal fraud prosecution in Arizona. In total, three
dozen surplus military C-130s were swapped for antique planes under the
U.S. Forest Service's Historic Aircraft Exchange Program. Most of the
C-130s went to a handful of American aerial firefighting companies or
other private businesses. The two Aero Postal bought were sold to it by
T&G Aviation of Chandler, Ariz., a company founded by William
"Woody" Grantham, formerly a pilot for the onetime CIA-owned Air
America, which itself purchased the aircraft from private businesses,
including a bank in California. For a time, one of the aircraft was stored
at Arkansas' remote Mena Intermountain Regional Airport, which currently
is the subject of a House Banking Committee drug-money laundering probe.
T&G applied in 1992 and 1993 for State Department permission to ship
the aircraft down to Guadalajara, the Dodge City of the Mexican
trafficking scene. The exporting of American-manufactured military
aircraft, including the C-130s, is meant to be a tightly controlled
business. Under the Arms Export Control Act, the State Department's Office
of Defense Trade Controls has broad powers to prevent new or used military
equipment from being sold to states deemed pariah nations or to foreign
companies linked to terrorism or criminal activities, such as drug
smuggling. Both T&G applications for the sales of 570517 in 1992 and
for 570518 in 1993 went forward, concedes a State Department spokesman,
without a hitch. "We held no derogatory information on either company
and so we approved the applications, though Aero Postal was required to
use the planes for pesticide spraying or for legal cargo-shipping
purposes." State Department sources say there were "no flags of
warning" about either T&G or Aero Postal in the Customs Service
intelligence computer or in databases run by the DEA. Insight encountered
profound reluctance at U.S. agencies when requesting formal on-the-record
comment about what went wrong with the process. Drug czar Barry
McCaffrey's spokesman, Bob Weiner, referred queries to his Pentagon
counterpart, Ken Bacon, on the grounds that the planes were military
aircraft and "we want to speak with one voice." Bacon, however,
was voiceless on the subject. He sent forth underling James Turner, whose
only comment was, "It isn't our policy to sell anything to
narcotraffickers." The Customs Service's head of press, Bill Anthony,
became so enraged that he slammed down the phone. And State, the
department that approved the paperwork allowing the aircraft to be sold to
Aero Postal? An official in the Office of Defense Trade Controls initially
said: "I don't know anything about this." Later, State officials
were more forthcoming and confirmed the details of the transfers from
T&G to Aero Postal but dismissed as "inaccurate" the
suggestion that they did anything wrong in approving the sales. "The
system worked perfectly. Nothing slipped through the cracks. We had no
reason to decline the applications. There wasn't anything we could have
done differently. It isn't our fault if the end-user diverted the planes
for illegal purposes." This "we-saw-no-evil" defense is
likely to buckle when Congress comes to grips with what happened. After
Insight made inquiries on Capitol Hill to determine whether any of the
oversight panels had information on the Aero Postal seizures - they didn't
-staffers on several congressional committees said they would investigate.
One top House GOP investigator rejected State's no-mistakes line as
"absurd," adding, "We spend a lot of money on intelligence
and it's their job to know." In fact, Washington's fail-safe alarms
probably should have gone off within a few months after State approved the
sales. In 1994, the DEA revealed in court filings for a major
Chicago-based drugs case that Luis Carlos Herrera-Lizcano, a top Cali and
Medellen cartel operative, had tried in the mid-1980s to buy mothballed
C-130s from the Australian government. The middle man in the deal?
According to Australian press accounts it was John Ford III, an attorney
and corporate secretary for T&G. Further, this magazine has discovered
that Ford dispatched an associate to check out the Australian C-130s. The
associate? Frank Battiston-Posada, who in 1991 was the pilot of a Twin
Otter aircraft seized by the DEA at Arkansas' Mena airport on suspicion of
drugrunning. No charges were filed against Battiston-Posada. The Chicago
court filing by the DEA also noted that T&G Aviation pilots at one
time flew for Trans Latin Air, a Panamanian airline indicted in the same
court case on trafficking charges. Trans Latin was dropped from the
indictment by the DEA as it abruptly declared bankruptcy. T&G
President Grantham was forthcoming when contacted by Insight. His
position? That he can't be held responsible for what Aero Postal did with
the planes. "No one can control what happens to a plane after you've
sold it," he says. "We dealt with a man who seemed very
upstanding, Julian Aparicio. I checked him out with the U.S. Embassy in
Mexico City and with the head of civil aviation in Mexico. He appeared to
be a very honest man. It can be very hard to know who you are dealing
with." Of his pilots flying for Trans Latin, Grantham said in a
telephone interview: "We leased a C-130 to them and our pilots flew
it in Panama. We know that that C-130 was never used for anything illegal.
After every flight it was inspected by Customs and sniffer dogs. There was
no sign of drug activity. We worked with U.S. officials down there - it
was after [Panamanian dictator] Noriega was kicked out." Grantham
confirmed that he nearly leased two other military-surplus C-130s to Aero
Postal - their USAF numbers were 560537 and 560487. But the Mexican
company decided against the leasing, though their paperwork on the leases
is being held by the State Department, sources say. "It is absolutely
unbelievable to think that traffickers had that kind of airlift
power," says former U.S. Special Forces Maj. Andy Messing, now the
head of the National Defense Council Foundation. "Those babies can
land on dirt tracks and they have incredible short takeoff and
payload-drop capabilities." And thanks to U.S. government agencies,
the Arellano Felix family had years to enjoy all of those capabilities.
Border
Agents in Douglas Have Waved It on Through
By Jamie
Dettmer
To the casual visitor,
Douglas, Ariz., is just a sleepy, unremarkable frontier town - a place
to hurry through on the way to or from Mexico. With a population of
only 14,000, what could happen of any importance to the nation in this
dusty tank town? A lot, apparently. Despite its diminutive size
Douglas is figuring prominently in the war against drugs - and not in
a way that casts the town in a good light. The Douglas port of entry
fast is gaining a reputation of being the most corrupt and inefficient
of any of the 38 frontier crossings dotting the Southwest's border
with Mexico. And if just a fraction of the stories told by U.S.
Customs and Immigration and Naturalization Service, or INS, inspectors
"walking the line" are true, then the Douglas crossing
represents only a minor inconvenience for Mexican drug traffickers.
"Dysfunctional" is the most charitable description one
Customs internal affairs, or IA, investigator can muster for a port
that during the last four years has seen the successful prosecution of
half a dozen U.S. law-enforcement officers for narco-related
corruption (see sidebar). Some Customs and INS inspectors at Douglas
are seething. "There is open bitterness and disgust being
expressed by many of the port staff - including supervisors - in
regards to the widespread corruption they believe is going on around
here," remarks a veteran Customs officer. Concern also is
mounting in Washington about a port that some federal lawmakers fear
has spun out of control. Arizona's Republican Sens. John Kyl and John
McCain have sent a joint letter to INS Commissioner Doris Meissner
asking her to comment on the persistent allegations of corruption
among INS and Customs inspectors at Douglas. Meissner was guarded in
her reply and trotted out the well-worn refrain other top
law-enforcement officials use whenever concern about border graft is
raised: Misconduct on the border won't be tolerated. Dissatisfied, Kyl
means to hold discussions with U.S. Attorney General Janet Reno to
"find out what's going on there." According to Arizona
Assistant U.S. Attorney Daniel Knauss, Douglas represents a
"severe corruption problem." Speaking in the aftermath of
Insight's disclosure in November of federal border-corruption probes
in California (see "Megacorruption at the Border," Nov. 11),
Knauss told one newspaper: "The entire operation down there [in
Douglas] is under scrutiny." As with California, so with Arizona:
Open talk about border corruption is not appreciated by those in
authority and Knauss, say law-enforcement sources, was slapped down by
his boss, the state's U.S. Attorney Janet Napolitano, who called her
subordinate on the carpet after receiving a fierce complaint from
Customs Commissioner George Weise. Rebecca Even, Napolitano's
spokeswoman, now maintains Knauss' comments were taken out of context.
She declined an Insight request for an interview with the Tucson,
Ariz.-based assistant U.S. attorney. Is there serious corruption at
Douglas and, if so, what is the scale of the graft? "It isn't
easy to tell," says a veteran Customs IA investigator who was
based in Arizona for several years. "When we looked at corruption
allegations at the port it was hard to sort out whether the accused
were lazy, or dumb-stupid or whether they were receiving something in
payment for their actions," he says. "It is difficult to
mount undercover IA investigations there - it's a small port, there
are complex family ties among the port personnel and with some
traffickers and outsiders stick out." But as with other
well-placed Customs sources he believes there is enough "smoke to
suggest the possibility of a raging fire." Several incidents at
Douglas since the late eighties have prompted official and undercover
IA probes of senior management at the port and of several inspectors.
What particularly has disturbed investigators over the years has been
the failure of the port management, led by the facility's director
Frank Amarillas, to ensure systematic inspection of border-crossing
trucks belonging to suspected traffickers or hauling firms with known
ties to drug-smuggling organizations. "There is a pattern here
which could be sinister - at best it's sloppy and shows poor
leadership," explains a Customs source. The "pattern of
failure," as one federal investigator puts it, includes: cIn late
1991, tractor-trailer rigs owned by businessmen once linked with a
smuggling organization controlled by Sonoran drug lord Jaime Figueroa-Soto,
a convicted trafficker now serving a life sentence in federal prison,
were allowed to cross the border at Douglas with only cursory
inspection. cIn the early to mid-nineties, hundreds of copper-ore bulk
trailers which each day passed through the port's cargo facility in
groups of up to 40 were hardly ever searched. It later was suggested
in Tucson-based Customs intelligence reports and by confidential
informants south of the border that these trucks, some of which were
owned by Jose Alberto Salcido, had been shipping large quantities of
cocaine for nearly half a decade without interruption. It was Salcido
who owned the construction yard in Douglas where the American end of
the infamous under-the-border drug tunnel emerged. The tunnel,
bankrolled by Mexican drug lord Joaquin Guzman-Loera, was discovered
by U.S. law enforcement in the nineties and sealed. Several port
sources have told Insight that inspectors attached to the port's Cargo
Branch Enforcement Teams were discouraged from "detaining the
trucks" by superiors at the port - including Senior Customs
Inspector Moses Dominguez who, for much of the period, was the de
facto supervisor of the cargo-inspection facility, and by Amarillas
himself. cThe same policy was applied to flatbed trailers importing
ceramic tiles from the Mexican state of Coahuila, despite the fact
that the exporter was a convicted trafficker. Again, according to
several Customs sources interviewed by Insight, inspectors were
discouraged from detaining the flatbed trailers. On Aug. 20, 1992, a
metric ton of cocaine passed through the port hidden in a ceramic-tile
shipment. Agents attached to the regional headquarters of Customs'
Office of Enforcement, or OE, in Tucson were tipped off about the
shipment but decided not to alert port staff. The shipment wasn't
detected by any of the inspectors working in the Douglas cargo
facility and it went on its way to Tucson where the OE agents seized
it and made arrests. According to several port sources, Amarillas was
enraged when he learned afterward about the OE operation. Carol Hallet,
then-Customs commissioner, equally was angry - but her fury wasn't
directed at OE; she wanted to know how such a large load had slipped
through Douglas undetected. Both Amarillas and Dominguez have been
under IA investigation in the past. Dominguez officially was advised
in April 1994 that allegations against him were being probed and the
larger-than-life port director, a Douglas native who joined Customs in
1974 as a dog handler, has faced several investigations during his
22-year career. Recently, the port director was the subject of probes
into his friendships with known or suspected traffickers, including
Raul Enriquez-Romero, a convicted marijuana trafficker whose oldest
son, Angel, was indicted in Michigan for trafficking, posted bail and
then fled to Agua Prieta, just over the border from Douglas. Amarillas
and Enriquez-Romero share an interest, sources say, in restoring
vintage cars and the port director and the convicted trafficker often
have worked together on such projects. Both Amarillas and Dominguez
declined Insight interview requests. But asked by a newspaper last
year about his friendships, Amarillas was quoted as saying:
"Every place in Douglas you meet people who at one time or
another were involved in narcotics. As port director, I have to deal
with whoever pays their debt to society." The multiple probes
apparently have done little to slow Amarillas' quick rise in Customs
and, according to Amarillas, they shouldn't have. He has claimed
publicly that investigations against him were triggered by the
chitchat of "disgruntled employees" and he insists he's
"Mr. Clean" and a stalwart antidrug warrior who deserved his
1989 promotion to the port directorship. Customs inspectors and agents
based in Arizona claim Amarillas was a master at using the good ol'
boy network to secure promotions. A close friendship with the now
California-based Rudy M. Camacho, Customs' Pacific regional
commissioner who currently is under investigation by the Treasury
Department's inspector general, was responsible for Amarillas landing
the director's job at Douglas, they claim. "His appointment was
largely due to the personal intervention of Camacho - the two were
close when Camacho was an assistant district director in
Arizona," an old Customs hand remarks. And the old-boy network
persists in Douglas under Amarillas. One Customs inspector talks of a
"systematic and long-term pattern of discrimination and
retaliation against anyone who doesn't conform to what Amarillas and
his management personnel desire." He continues: "They regard
the Douglas port of entry as their own private little world or family
business, and they resent and fear any outsiders, especially
non-Hispanics working in the port." Another inspector says
there's a "pattern of blatant favoritism" and that to
understand Douglas one has to appreciate the background
"atmosphere of nepotism and small-town parochialism."
Amarillas has done nothing to end that. "He grooms certain
personnel for promotion, especially those who have family ties to him
- we nickname them the `golden children.' " The "Douglas
culture" - one shared by many Southwest ports - makes it doubly
hard for IA investigators to get to the bottom of corruption
allegations. Should graft claims be dismissed as the rantings of
disaffected rank and file who are jealous of the golden children? Or
is there substance