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Ask most Mexicans what a trámite
is and they will describe the bureaucratic procedures every citizen has to go
through to get by in civic life. However, the team behind the "Corrupcionario Mexicano,"
or Mexican Corruptionary, has a more colorful definition.
For the authors, a trámite is an
"obligatory and often free procedure that the offices of government try to
pass off as a favor to the taxpayer. They take away your time, your hope that
you'll be able to fix the problem that is concerning you, your money and, on
top of it all, they will attend to you with the slothfulness of a bear a long
way from the springtime."
The Corruptionary is the work of anti-corruption organization Opciona. According to
the authors, the purpose of the book is to shine a light on the numerous ways
corruption has taken hold of Mexican society and to challenge its social
normalization.
"We have compiled these words associated with a phenomena that is as
internalized in our society as corruption in order to put a first and last name
to these terrible situations, people and actions, which, disguised by their
daily occurrence, seem normal to us," they state.
The definition of corruption used in the Corruptionary is broad, covering
not only actual acts but also the broader corruption of Mexican society, values
and attitudes caused by the corrosive influence of organized crime, graft and
weak state institutions. It covers three broad areas, which it defines as
"corruption of us, corruption of them and corruption of everyone."
Many terms describe the everyday corrupt acts of the sort many common
citizens will encounter, such as paying a brinco
to avoid paperwork and regulations in public procedures. Others refer to the
corrupt practices that plague civic life, such as the vote-buying technique of
the carrusel, where voters hand over
their blank ballots to a vote buyer, who then hands them back the pre-marked
vote of another person to place in the ballot box.
In addition to the corruption slang, Opciona also uses its definitions to
take political jabs at institutions, public figures and attitudes in Mexico.
Some definitions target scandal-plagued politicians and their inner
circles. One example is Mexico's first lady
Angélica Rivera, who became
embroiled in a scandal over the
purchase of luxury properties. Under the term Casa Blanca (White House), the deeply sarcastic definition reads,
"Imposing ex-mansion of the first lady, who, with the sweat of her brow,
saved millions of pesos for decades so that one day she could unquestionably
proclaim herself "The Owner."
The collection also include concepts such as Justicia (Justice), which is described as a "nonexistent
social construct in Mexico. Period".
The entry for Justicia por mano propia
(Taking justice into one’s own hands) meanwhile, references Mexico's
vigilante-militia movement and offers the following definition: "Given the
absence of an effective — don't even talk about trustworthy — justice system,
this describes an empirical method based on the old adage 'an eye for an
eye.'"
Other targets for the Corruptionary's satirical definitions include state
institutions such as Congress, which is described as "a space of simulated
popular representation financed by taxpayers so that deputies and senators can
sporadically come and take 'selfies' in the house."
Some of the definitions also challenge some of the social attitudes that
have become common in a country plagued by criminality. It does this through
phrases such as "he must have been involved in something," which it
defines as "the prejudiced conviction that we usually say with alarming
lightness when we find out about the violent death of someone (almost always a
youth)" in Mexico.
"Do you think it's funny?" the definition adds.
All across Latin America, countries have seen how the nature of organized
crime and corruption lends itself to the sort of linguistic creativity
highlighted in the Corruptionary. To have such a broad and commonly used
lexicon is often an indicator that a culture of criminality has taken hold.
In some cases, the rich and varied vocabulary of organized crime has been
subsumed into local slang employed in daily use. One of the most evident
examples of this is Medellín, Colombia, where drug
trafficking has been a cultural force since the era of Pablo Escobar and the
cocaine boom years. In Medellin, narco-slang has been encompassed into the
regional vernacular — known as Parlache — and
even two decades after Escobar's death, people commonly use terms first coined
by 1980s gangsters.
However, beyond the linguistic curiosities and amusing definitions, there
is, as Opciona points out, a more serious point to the Corruptionary. The
project is indicative of just how much crime, corruption and violence have
become normalized in Mexico.
New entries in any dictionary only come when the words or phrases are
widely used and commonly understood. To have a lexicon for such a range of
criminal and corrupt acts suggests a society where these have become not only
common but also largely accepted, even if they are not condoned.
However, the message of the Corruptionary does not end with its specialist
vocabulary. The ironic definitions for terms that essentially represent the
functions of the state are indicative not only of a state that is failing in
its duties, but of one that in many cases performs the opposite of its
designated role: the corrupt judges releasing drug traffickers, or police
officers involved in kidnapping.
In addition, the descriptions of certain attitudes currently prevalent,
like the belief that any murder victim must have been up to no good, are also
testament to the corrosive social influence of crime and corruption and the
hardening of a long-suffering population to its effects.
While the Corruptionary finds something to laugh about in Mexico's dark underbelly,
its underlying message is stark; the ability to fill a book with terms
describing these actions and attitudes is a damning statement on the health of
Mexican society.
This
article was previously published by InsightCrime.