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As long as these leaders pledge allegiance to the neoliberal order and the Washington Consensus, their authoritarian abuses are ignored, and they are embraced by elites.
On February 25, the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies, or SAIS, one of the most prestigious educational institutions in global affairs and an intellectual vanguard of the liberal order, held an event with former Mexican President Ernesto Zedillo. The theme: “Democratic Backsliding in Latin America.”
What the event crucially withheld is that Zedillo himself is responsible for crimes against humanity and the destruction of his country’s democratic system under the Partido Revolucionario Institucional’s “Perfect Dictatorship,” a period of uninterrupted 71-year rule.
Zedillo served as president from 1994 to 2000; he was the last heir of that era, during which the PRI kept rigging elections, threatening opposition parties, buying votes, and deploying security forces against opposition to hold on to power.
If Zedillo is lecturing on democratic backsliding, can we really expect him to acknowledge his own role in it?
Failing to mention his crimes was not an accident—it epitomized a broader, deliberate pattern of whitewashing of Latin American leaders responsible for horrendous crimes by U.S.-led, liberal institutions.
Within days of assuming office, Zedillo provoked the worst economic crisis in the country’s history, better known as the Peso Crisis, when he immediately devalued the peso by 15% and converted private banking debt to public debt, causing enormous economic strife, inequality, poverty, and death.
Zedillo also targeted political opponents including in his own party, and repeatedly used the state’s power against peaceful protesters. After years of calling Indigenous protesters demanding further autonomy “terrorists,” state security forces committed the Aguas Blancas and Acteal massacres under his watch. He attempted to suppress reporting on the massacres (only acknowledged decades later) and accelerated conflict with the Zapatistas, while categorically refusing to negotiate with the group despite its popular support against legitimate grievances.
Silence means access, and access bolsters the institution’s connections, at the cost of truth and progress. Voicing any concern over Zedillo’s blacklist of abuses might lead to Zedillo refusing to give the talk, which would affect SAIS’s prestigious image, no matter how it might pervert the school’s supposed educational mandate.
There are countless examples of this corrupt system at work. Former President of Colombia Iván Duque, who is largely responsible for purposefully tanking the Peace Accords and perpetuating civil conflict, as well as repeatedly using the military to kill peaceful protesters, was given a Global Fellowship with the Wilson Center’s Latin American Program and another at Cornell, and frequently visits prestigious think tanks and universities, including Georgetown, to lecture about democracy.
Alejandro Toledo, the disgraced former president of Peru now in jail for his role in the Odebrecht corruption scandal, has held positions at Stanford and Brookings. Álvaro Uribe, the former president of Colombia who exacerbated the War on Drugs and allegedly supported the far-right paramilitary death squads (now the largest drug producers in the country), was also given a fellowship at Georgetown. These are just a few examples of a long list of criminal Latin American leaders in prominent positions in liberal circles in Washington and beyond.
Former Ecuadorian President Guillermo Lasso, who suspended constitutional rights to deploy the military against protesters and drug cartels, and called an election to prevent Congress from holding him accountable for his corruption, was also given a column in the Wilson Center’s magazine (while he was being impeached), prompting my own resignation from the program. He was also offered a Senior Leadership Fellowship at the Florida International University, along with Juan Guiadó, Álvaro Uribe, and others.
To cite one last ongoing example, Ecuadorian President Daniel Noboa has also been parading around various universities and think tanks, particularly in Washington and Miami, allegedly earning significant cash and gifts despite Ecuadorian law preventing large foreign donations. Noboa has maintained a “state of exception” for more than 13 months, expanding state powers and suspending constitutional rights. Thousands have been arrested without trial, and the ensuing conflict has resulted in thousands more deaths, as the state feeds a worsening cycle of violence, disproportionately targeting marginalized populations, that shows little sign of letting up in the long-term. That includes four Afro-Ecuadorian boys, 15 years old and younger, who were murdered by military forces in Guayaquil late last year. Barring a major shift, it is expected that Noboa will be offered a cushy fellowship or consulting golden parachute in the United States after leaving office.
Their crimes seem to cause no pain for the American liberal intelligentsia, who are supposed to uphold an order based on “rules and norms.” Rather, they seem to be applied selectively based on naked national interest.
As long as these leaders pledge allegiance to the neoliberal order and the Washington Consensus, their authoritarian abuses are ignored, and they are embraced by elites. Attendees, organizers, and institutions enable this whitewashing to protect their geopolitical and economic interests—whether to uphold liberal order or, more cynically, to maintain U.S. control over Latin American sovereignty.
This revolving door extends beyond think tanks and universities—many of these disgraced leaders secure high-paying consulting roles with American firms, advising on the very legal and political systems they once manipulated. Zedillo, beyond his talk at SAIS (and his fellowship at Yale), is also a consultant with various American companies including Citigroup and Coca-Cola, for which he manages multi-million-dollar portfolios.
Evidently, this system has permeated through all institutions belonging to the old liberal order, whether they be think tanks, educational institutions, development organizations, or multilateral regional organizations, all of which have repeatedly provided cover, and even support, to criminal leaders from the region, in the name, supposedly, of “democracy and freedom.”
This incestuous system, consequently, rewards terrible leaders who pay lip service to liberalism, contributing to the perpetuation of institutionalized corruption, human rights abuses, and democratic backsliding in Latin America.
For those consuming these institutions' output—events, speeches, research, and courses—this corrupt cycle distorts the truth, obscuring the crucial historical and political context behind future policy decisions. If Zedillo is lecturing on democratic backsliding, can we really expect him to acknowledge his own role in it?
Having these bad actors as messengers also incentivizes the next generation to participate in the corrupt system themselves, having the leaders as mentors. The leaders, coming from a very powerful position with immense connections and social and economic capital, can provide internships, fellowships, and other opportunities, often with financial reward (and thus ownership). Mentees will then become part of the sociopolitical caste that birthed the corrupt leaders, be fed revisionist history, and perpetuate the cycle further, damaging progress for generations.
This incestuous system rewarding corruption and loyalty to the American-led liberal order should be called out at every turn. Certain heterodox analysts, scholars, journalists, and activists, have themselves been critical, incurring significant professional risks to speak truth to power. Some of these events and appointments, for instance, Uribe’s appointment to Georgetown, have been widely protested.
These critical debates are not “grey areas” or a “game,” they are part of a broader, centuries-long effort for independence, sovereignty, and popular rule, despite very well-funded colonial efforts, including by liberal elites in Washington, against self-determination.
As Eduardo Galeano wrote in his iconic The Open Veins of Latin America, “History never really says goodbye. History says, ‘See you later.’” The weaponization of democracy and freedom by liberal elite institutions to cover up pro-American regional leaders’ crimes for imperial interests is a mere repackaging of Monroe Doctrine dogma, and it won’t go away until it is gutted inside and out.
Zedillo served as president from 1994 to 2000; he was the last heir of that era, during which the PRI kept rigging elections, threatening opposition parties, buying votes, and deploying security forces against opposition to hold on to power.
If Zedillo is lecturing on democratic backsliding, can we really expect him to acknowledge his own role in it?
Failing to mention his crimes was not an accident—it epitomized a broader, deliberate pattern of whitewashing of Latin American leaders responsible for horrendous crimes by U.S.-led, liberal institutions.
Within days of assuming office, Zedillo provoked the worst economic crisis in the country’s history, better known as the Peso Crisis, when he immediately devalued the peso by 15% and converted private banking debt to public debt, causing enormous economic strife, inequality, poverty, and death.
Zedillo also targeted political opponents including in his own party, and repeatedly used the state’s power against peaceful protesters. After years of calling Indigenous protesters demanding further autonomy “terrorists,” state security forces committed the Aguas Blancas and Acteal massacres under his watch. He attempted to suppress reporting on the massacres (only acknowledged decades later) and accelerated conflict with the Zapatistas, while categorically refusing to negotiate with the group despite its popular support against legitimate grievances.
Silence means access, and access bolsters the institution’s connections, at the cost of truth and progress. Voicing any concern over Zedillo’s blacklist of abuses might lead to Zedillo refusing to give the talk, which would affect SAIS’s prestigious image, no matter how it might pervert the school’s supposed educational mandate.
There are countless examples of this corrupt system at work. Former President of Colombia Iván Duque, who is largely responsible for purposefully tanking the Peace Accords and perpetuating civil conflict, as well as repeatedly using the military to kill peaceful protesters, was given a Global Fellowship with the Wilson Center’s Latin American Program and another at Cornell, and frequently visits prestigious think tanks and universities, including Georgetown, to lecture about democracy.
Alejandro Toledo, the disgraced former president of Peru now in jail for his role in the Odebrecht corruption scandal, has held positions at Stanford and Brookings. Álvaro Uribe, the former president of Colombia who exacerbated the War on Drugs and allegedly supported the far-right paramilitary death squads (now the largest drug producers in the country), was also given a fellowship at Georgetown. These are just a few examples of a long list of criminal Latin American leaders in prominent positions in liberal circles in Washington and beyond.
Former Ecuadorian President Guillermo Lasso, who suspended constitutional rights to deploy the military against protesters and drug cartels, and called an election to prevent Congress from holding him accountable for his corruption, was also given a column in the Wilson Center’s magazine (while he was being impeached), prompting my own resignation from the program. He was also offered a Senior Leadership Fellowship at the Florida International University, along with Juan Guiadó, Álvaro Uribe, and others.
To cite one last ongoing example, Ecuadorian President Daniel Noboa has also been parading around various universities and think tanks, particularly in Washington and Miami, allegedly earning significant cash and gifts despite Ecuadorian law preventing large foreign donations. Noboa has maintained a “state of exception” for more than 13 months, expanding state powers and suspending constitutional rights. Thousands have been arrested without trial, and the ensuing conflict has resulted in thousands more deaths, as the state feeds a worsening cycle of violence, disproportionately targeting marginalized populations, that shows little sign of letting up in the long-term. That includes four Afro-Ecuadorian boys, 15 years old and younger, who were murdered by military forces in Guayaquil late last year. Barring a major shift, it is expected that Noboa will be offered a cushy fellowship or consulting golden parachute in the United States after leaving office.
Their crimes seem to cause no pain for the American liberal intelligentsia, who are supposed to uphold an order based on “rules and norms.” Rather, they seem to be applied selectively based on naked national interest.
As long as these leaders pledge allegiance to the neoliberal order and the Washington Consensus, their authoritarian abuses are ignored, and they are embraced by elites. Attendees, organizers, and institutions enable this whitewashing to protect their geopolitical and economic interests—whether to uphold liberal order or, more cynically, to maintain U.S. control over Latin American sovereignty.
This revolving door extends beyond think tanks and universities—many of these disgraced leaders secure high-paying consulting roles with American firms, advising on the very legal and political systems they once manipulated. Zedillo, beyond his talk at SAIS (and his fellowship at Yale), is also a consultant with various American companies including Citigroup and Coca-Cola, for which he manages multi-million-dollar portfolios.
Evidently, this system has permeated through all institutions belonging to the old liberal order, whether they be think tanks, educational institutions, development organizations, or multilateral regional organizations, all of which have repeatedly provided cover, and even support, to criminal leaders from the region, in the name, supposedly, of “democracy and freedom.”
This incestuous system, consequently, rewards terrible leaders who pay lip service to liberalism, contributing to the perpetuation of institutionalized corruption, human rights abuses, and democratic backsliding in Latin America.
For those consuming these institutions' output—events, speeches, research, and courses—this corrupt cycle distorts the truth, obscuring the crucial historical and political context behind future policy decisions. If Zedillo is lecturing on democratic backsliding, can we really expect him to acknowledge his own role in it?
Having these bad actors as messengers also incentivizes the next generation to participate in the corrupt system themselves, having the leaders as mentors. The leaders, coming from a very powerful position with immense connections and social and economic capital, can provide internships, fellowships, and other opportunities, often with financial reward (and thus ownership). Mentees will then become part of the sociopolitical caste that birthed the corrupt leaders, be fed revisionist history, and perpetuate the cycle further, damaging progress for generations.
This incestuous system rewarding corruption and loyalty to the American-led liberal order should be called out at every turn. Certain heterodox analysts, scholars, journalists, and activists, have themselves been critical, incurring significant professional risks to speak truth to power. Some of these events and appointments, for instance, Uribe’s appointment to Georgetown, have been widely protested.
These critical debates are not “grey areas” or a “game,” they are part of a broader, centuries-long effort for independence, sovereignty, and popular rule, despite very well-funded colonial efforts, including by liberal elites in Washington, against self-determination.
As Eduardo Galeano wrote in his iconic The Open Veins of Latin America, “History never really says goodbye. History says, ‘See you later.’” The weaponization of democracy and freedom by liberal elite institutions to cover up pro-American regional leaders’ crimes for imperial interests is a mere repackaging of Monroe Doctrine dogma, and it won’t go away until it is gutted inside and out.
Combining the failed strategies of the war on terror and the war on drugs is not just misguided—it’s doubling down on failure.
In the capricious tapestry that is U.S. foreign policy, you can find a recurring pattern: Washington champions sovereignty as a holy principle of the international order when it aligns with its interests—think Ukraine under Biden—but casually disregards it when inconvenient.
The latest thread in this tapestry is last Thursday’s unprecedented State Department decision to formally designate eight groups, including major Mexican drug cartels such as the Sinaloa Cartel and Jalisco New Generation Cartel, as Foreign Terrorist Organizations (FTOs). Beneath the Trumpian tough-on-crime pose lies a policy that threatens to violate Mexico’s sovereignty and destabilize a vital relationship, and reinforces the imperialist tendency that has caused so much damage here in the U.S. and across the globe.
Labeling cartels as FTOs isn’t just a symbolic gesture; it opens the door for military intervention under the guise of counterterrorism. The U.S. could justify drone strikes or cross-border raids without Mexico’s consent—a blatant affront to its sovereignty. President Claudia Sheinbaum highlighted: “This classification should not serve as a pretext for the United States to invade our sovereignty.” Any such military intervention would violate Congress’s constitutional war powers, but Trump is unlikely to respect such legal niceties.
The desire to rise out of extreme poverty can not be bombed out of existence.
Elon Musk has made this clear. Musk recently declared on his social media platform that the FTO designation would make cartels “eligible for drone strikes,” a comment that is both legally dubious and deeply unsettling.
Mexican cartels are not terrorists in the way most people understand that word. They’re not trying to overthrow governments or spread extremist beliefs. Yes, they commit horrific acts of violence—killings, kidnappings, extortion—but their primary motive is profit, not ideology. As the narcocorrido (“drug ballad,” a musical genre popular on both sides of the border) "Clave Privada" by Banda el Recodo goes:
I was poor for a long time
Many people humiliated me
I began to earn money...
Things are flipped around now
Now they call me boss.
Understanding the driver of these cartels isn’t rocket science: it’s all about the Miguelitos (i.e. the 1000 peso note). Imposing travel bans might inconvenience cartel leaders but it won’t dismantle their billion-dollar empires. The terrorist designation is unlikely to even cut profit margins because many cartels are already designated as transnational criminal organizations (TCOs), so the FTO designation does not provide significant new policy tools to target their finances.
Drone attacks are unlikely to stop a notoriously violent business where cartel leaders are already frequently killed in assassinations by competitors or shootouts with government forces. The war on terror has shown to the U.S. that “Decapitate the Kingpin” is a loser’s game. In fact, Mexico’s own “kingpin strategy” targeting and elimination of high-ranking cartel members has created power vacuums and increased violence. Combining the failed strategies of the war on terror and the war on drugs is not just misguided—it’s doubling down on failure.
The desire to rise out of extreme poverty can not be bombed out of existence. Meanwhile, the other main drivers of this problem are illicit markets fueled by U.S. demand for drugs and corruption within Mexico—issues that require smarter policies to address. Words matter in policymaking. Using “terrorist” as a catch-all term is already destructive and distorting, from the U.S. “war on terror” to the Netanyahu-Biden-Trump war in Gaza to China’s oppression of the Uighur in Xinjiang. This action exacerbates the problem.
There’s something disturbingly familiar about this whole idea—a familiar whiff of paternalism. For decades, the U.S. has intervened in Latin America under various pretexts: fighting communism during the Cold War, waging war on drugs in the 1980s and 1990s, and now combating “terrorism.” The results have often been disastrous for the region. Designating cartels as FTOs feels like another chapter in this playbook: framing another country’s problems as existential threats to justify American imperialism. So long liberal internationalism, hello Make the Monroe Doctrine Great Again.
This approach doesn’t work in today’s interconnected world. Problems associated with drug trafficking—and migration—don’t respect borders; they require multilateral solutions rooted in trust and mutual respect—not unilateral declarations from Washington. Meanwhile, Trump is cutting thoughtful, nonviolent programs like U.S. funding for an organization that has reduced the number of children recruited by gangs to help move drugs and migrants across the border. Trump froze another program targeting fentanyl and methamphetamine trafficking at key ports.
None of this is meant to downplay the seriousness of cartel violence or its devastating impact on both sides of the border. Tackling this issue requires nuance and humility—especially from the U.S.. Instead of designating cartels as FTOs, policymakers should focus on strategies that address root causes: reducing demand for drugs through treatment programs; cracking down on gun trafficking from the U.S. into Mexico as some members of Congress are working to do; supporting anti-corruption efforts within Mexico; and strengthening bilateral cooperation rather than undermining it.
If harnessed effectively, regional disillusionment with U.S. imperialism could propel Latin America toward true autonomy and bottom-up development.
In late January, the Trump administration forcibly repatriated Colombian nationals via military aircraft, allegedly shackling them and depriving them of basic necessities, all without trial. In a racist nod to his nativist base, U.S. President Donald Trump boasted on Truth Social that the migrants were "CRIMINALS."
While Trump's behavior is outrageous, and should be condemned widely, it also presents an opportunity for the left in Colombia, and Latin America, to push for further autonomy.
In a nation of militarized borders, hypersurveillance, and a cruel immigration system, millions of Latin Americans enter the U.S. illegally seeking refuge or economic opportunity. Latin American borders, by contrast, tend to be more porous, with irregular crossings common during geopolitical crises. When the Simón Bolívar International Bridge between Colombia and Venezuela closed amid diplomatic tensions, "Colombovenezolanos" regularly crossed through jungles and mountains to trade, study, work, and visit loved ones. I witnessed this firsthand at the bridge's reopening in the early days of Gustavo Petro's presidency.
To ensure this transition benefits the region, the left must actively counter right-wing efforts to realign Latin America with fascist, oligarchical U.S. interests.
Most Colombian immigrants (including irregular migrants) to the U.S. are not criminals; the majority crossing are economic migrants and asylum seekers. Yet Trump's imagery equates them with convicted terrorists bound for Guantánamo Bay—ironic given that he just issued an order to sending 30,000 migrants to the island for extrajudiciary detention.
There is a clear double standard here. Trump, himself civilly liable for rape and closely tied to serial rapist Jeffrey Epstein, has supported far-right terrorist groups and pardoned 1,500 insurrectionists who attempted to overthrow a democratic election on January 6, 2021. He prioritizes prosecuting brown immigrants over actual criminals.
Colombian President Gustavo Petro condemned the flights as violations of Colombian sovereignty and human rights, initially refusing to accept them. In retaliation, Trump imposed severe economic measures: a 25% tariff on all goods, a travel ban, sanctions on government officials and their allies, and extra screening at all U.S. ports of entry. Facing economic devastation and fearing further mistreatment of 1.5 million Colombians in the U.S., Petro relented.
In a passionate rebuke, the former M-19 guerrilla leader implored Trump to recognize Colombians' humanity, noting that despite U.S. efforts to repress its neighbors, Colombia has long resisted foreign domination, and thrived while doing so.
This is nothing new. The Monroe Doctrine, framed as protection against European colonization, was weaponized to oppose Simón Bolívar's dreams of regional unity and independence. The U.S. backed the United Fruit Company during the 1928 Banana Massacre, pressured the Colombian government into violent crackdowns on labor strikes, and played a major role in counterinsurgency efforts during La Violencia. The War on Drugs further entrenched U.S. intervention, with operations like the killing of Pablo Escobar more about American dominance than narcotics control—with U.S. drug consumption continuing to increase and the government arming and financing drug traffickers in Latin America and elsewhere. The U.S. also supported far-right paramilitaries and corrupt leaders in Colombia, including former President Álvaro Uribe, whose administration faced numerous allegations of ties to death squads.
Such blatant nativism has a long-term cost: U.S. regional influence. Despite the U.S.-Colombia trade war cooling off, the wheels of shifting regional power have already been put into motion. Though Colombia remains a key U.S. ally, Trump's aggression accelerates a preexisting shift, namely, Latin America's decoupling from the U.S., and the rise of polycentrism, or multiple powers competing over influence within Latin America. Colombia is increasingly diversifying its foreign relations, seeking partnerships that align with its national interests, values, and autonomy.
Across Latin America, left-wing and center-left democratic governments—from Colombia, Mexico, and Brazil to Bolivia, Uruguay, Honduras, Guatemala, Chile, and Peru—are reducing their reliance on Washington. Many regional leaders are reconsidering U.S. arms purchases, shifting defense contracts elsewhere. MERCOSUR and U.S. free trade negotiations have stalled, replaced by deepening ties with the E.U., China, and internal regional alliances. U.S. infrastructure and economic initiatives pale in comparison with China's growing investment, while the E.U. expands its footprint in public projects. Several Latin American countries, including Mexico, have already issued threats of retaliation against Trump's tariffs and repatriation flights.
Some right-wing governments, though a minority, still kowtow to Trump. Argentina's Javier Milei and El Salvador's Nayib Bukele have become MAGA darlings. Meanwhile, far-right movements are gaining traction in Colombia, Chile, Peru, and possibly Brazil, threatening polycentrism's progress. Their electoral victories would erode regional leverage against Trump and other authoritarian figures pursuing nativist agendas. Still, the broader trajectory favors a regional shift, with right-wing governments struggling to reverse course against broader trends. That shift will be best ushered in by the pro-democratic left.
Latin America's history is one of continuous resistance against imperial powers—Spain, Portugal, Holland, France, and now the U.S. For over two centuries, Washington has acted as a bully in its own backyard, orchestrating coups, backing dictators, and fueling instability to protect military and corporate interests. Trump's aggression is simply the Monroe Doctrine on steroids. Yet this overreach may finally push Colombia and other Latin American nations toward genuine self-determination.
This moment presents a strategic opening for the Latin American left. Historically, even progressive leaders like Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and Michelle Bachelet treated the U.S. as a well-intentioned partner. That illusion has now fully shattered. With Trump exposing the naked self-interest of American Empire, its moral credibility in Latin America has collapsed. Washington's warnings about Chinese, Russian, or Iranian influence in the region now ring hollow—despite those states' extensive human rights abuses and extreme authoritarianism. Leftists in the region have long opposed U.S. imperialism, but today, that skepticism is near-universal, save for local fascists, oligarchs, and their enablers. If harnessed effectively, this disillusionment can propel Latin America toward true autonomy and bottom-up development.
Bilateral cooperation between the U.S. and Colombia is important, but there is simply no middle ground with fascism, and democracy must be defended, regardless of political expediency in the short-term. Under Trump, the U.S. is not just seen as lacking any moral character but as politically unstable, led by an idiocratic elite class. Despite their own obvious flaws, China, the E.U., and other regional partners offer a lower-risk, higher-reward alternative. By doubling down on racism, imperialism, and aggression, Trump accelerates America's decline in Latin America.
Whether the U.S. makes this a seamless transition to polycentrism or, like many other dead Empires, decides to go down swinging by further opening up the veins of Latin America, remains to be seen. If history is any guide, the latter is more likely—to the detriment of peace, human rights, and self-determination everywhere.
To ensure this transition benefits the region, the left must actively counter right-wing efforts to realign Latin America with fascist, oligarchical U.S. interests. This means solidifying regional economic and political alternatives, bolstering diplomatic unity against American coercion, and deploying the grassroots base against U.S.-backed reactionary forces. Only through concerted action can Latin America fully unshackle itself from imperial influence and forge a future of genuine sovereignty, justice, and development for all.