DRUGLORDS, COWBOYS, DESPERADOES: POLITICAL MYTHOLOGIES OF THE MEXICAN-AMERICAN FRONTIER A Dissertation Presented to the Faculty of the Graduate School of Cornell University In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy by Rafael Acosta Morales May, 2014 © 2014 Rafael Acosta Morales DRUGLORDS, COWBOYS, DESPERADOES: POLITICAL MYTHOLOGIES OF THE MEXICAN-AMERICAN FRONTIER Rafael Acosta Morales, Ph. D. Cornell University 2014 Cowboys, drug lords and desperadoes, with their unholstered guns, riding horses or trucks, roaming through the wide desert, represent key parts of the political mythology of the Mexican and American frontiers. This is a territory that, even as it has always been considered peripheral, has had a central role in shaping the central identities of both countries, as well as in the development of their attitudes towards violence and conflict, legality and illegality. My research focuses on these three figures and the territory in which they roam, eliciting from narratives that center around them theories of political exceptionality, legitimation, and substantiality. On the frontier regions of the liberal, representative state, its shortcomings become more obvious, and betray the blind spots of our political schema. I argue in my dissertation that the manifestations of violence that surround this territory do not arise in spite of the state and its notions of legality, but because of the law and the processes through which it comes into existence. To illustrate this point, I construct a narrative divided in three chapters, which develops the imaginary of each figure, focusing on the work of Cormac McCarthy, Clint Eastwood, Luis G. Inclán, Yuri Herrera, Américo Paredes and Rolando Hinojosa. In my dissertation, I show the pathways through which these works represent the way the law becomes intertwined with the outlaw, affirming and negating itself through its exercise. Each chapter focuses on one of three of the main cultural identity groups that populate the region, Anglos, Chicanos and Mexicans, while analyzing the tenets of one of the branches of government. In this way, I want to call attention to how stories occupy political discourse and showcase the failings of our political systems. By virtue of being outside of the “civilized” centers of the Nation State, farther from the cosmetic institutions that hide inequality and injustice, the frontier helps us perceive the underbelly of representative democracy, revealing the nightmarish counterparts of the State’s generals, politicians and tycoons in the roaming cowboy gunslingers, powerful drug lords and landless desperadoes of the North American desert. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Rafael Acosta Morales was born in Nueva Rosita, México, and wandered through Northeastern Mexico. He received his Licenciatura in Hispanic Letters from the Instituto Tecnológico y de Estudios Superiores de Monterrey. He attained a Master’s Degree in European Literature, Literary Theory and Comparative Literature from the Universidad Autónoma de Madrid in 2007. He came to the United States in 2007, where in 2011 he received an M.A. and in 2014 a Ph.d in Romance Studies with a minor in Latin American Studies from Cornell University. He is currently an Assistant Professor at the University of Kansas.He is iii A mis padres y mis hermanos, los naturales y los adoptados. iv ACKNOWLEDGMENTS My first thanks come to my family. My parents kept a house that was full of books ever since I can remember. They always pushed me to make something of myself, and I’ve done as much as I can not to let them down. I am greatly indebted to my professors in Monterrey, who opened a wide world of opportunities for me and let me know what literature is, and how a life can be made in literature. Inés Sáenz, the first of my many female mentors, changed my life and set me on the path I am today with her flawless example. I am also heavily indebted to the late Ramón Martínez, queridísimo mester de perrecía, and, like most of his students, miss him dearly. Raúl Verduzco, Eduardo Garza, Luis Lojero and Luis Felipe Lomelí, all of them, far away as they might have been physically, were always close, and always here. Things get rough sometimes in the isolation of a Ph.D. program, and friends are beyond value and beyond words. Gustavo Furtado, helped me retain some of the little sanity I had, through many a cup of coffee, pinga de cachaça, and arctic grilling. Rafael Orozco, Dafna Hornik and Pablo García Piñar were friends who kept me afloat with stimulating conversation, advice, encouragement and companionship. I also have to the Workshop to thank for great improvement on my Cornell experience. Edmundo Paz- Soldán, Liliana Colanzi, Rodrigo Hasbún, Rodrigo Fuentes, Janet Hendrickson, Sebastián Antezana and all the other participants became part of a great literary tradition which I hope will last for a long time in Ithaca. v I have many colleagues to thank for their generous help. Ignacio Sánchez Prado has always been beyond generous, and sets the bar in his field. Jose Ramón Ruisánchez has had many a suggestion and tip on hand for several years. Oswaldo Zavala has also contributed with interesting perspectives to this work, as well as Sophie Esch. And also, Simone Pinet has been a wonderful reader and commenter for many a page of mine during my time at Cornell University. Gregorio Henríquez was also essential for this project, I could never have conceived of it in the same way if it weren’t for his anthropological lectures all around Medellín. The members of my committee have gone beyond the call of duty throughout the process of conceiving, planning and writing a dissertation. Edmundo Paz Soldán kept me on my feet throughout the process, and suggested a great deal of material from the trove of literary knowledge he possesses. Gerard Aching, always a gentleman, provided invaluable advice, example and perspective during the years he served in my committee. And finally, I believe no one can speak well enough of Debra Castillo, and many have tried. No student deserves such a good advisor, and she leaves enormous shoes for me to fill as an advisor later on in my career. She always had the right advice, the right article, the right book, the right word, and even the right taco. I’ll be forever in her debt, though, I can only hope that our professional relationship is only beginning. And to all the other people I haven’t mentioned, as well as the ones I already have, I say thanks, thank you all. vi TABLE OF CONTENTS BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH III ACKNOWLEDGMENTS V HEROES: STORIES 2 COWBOYS: JUSTICIAR EXCEPTION 34 KNIGHTS ERRANT OF THE AMERICAN PRAIRIE 35 THE GAVEL AND THE GUN: NOMAD DYSTOPIAS OF JUSTICE 61 DRUGLORDS: EXECUTIVE LEGITIMACY 92 OUTLAW UTOPIAS OF THE INTERIOR 93 THE CAUDILLO, THE BARD AND THE LEGITIMACY OF REPUBLICS 119 BANDITS: ILLEGAL REPRESENTATIVITY 140 SONGWRITER MASONS OF THE DESERT 141 GREEKS IN ROMAN COURTHOUSES: PROCEDURAL LAW AND COLONIAL CODES OF HONOR 165 INCONCLUSION: LAUGHING AT VOLCANOES 197 WORKS CITED 206 vii "I knew a very wise man so much of Sir Christopher's sentiment, that he believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation." Andrew Fletcher An Account of a Conversation 1 HEROES: STORIES Bear with me. What you see on screen is a person stranded on an island, or a remote village full of savages. These backward sorts grab the hero and worship him like a god (in Star Wars it was little fuzzy bears and an android, but nevertheless). They proceed to give him all sorts of gifts and all the women in the village shower him with their attention. Now, our hero (usually a little dimwitted) believes he has finally found paradise, until he discovers he is being prepared as a human sacrifice and about to be tossed into a volcano as an offering to the gods. Let’s set this scene aside for a couple of minutes. The next thing you see is my father, and here your vision bifurcates in time. One of the strands is showing reruns of The Lone Ranger on TV. The hero rides his beautiful horse through a reddened desert with his faithful sidekick by his side. Of course, this was Mexico, so Tonto was not named Tonto (dumbass), but Toro (Bull). In the other strand, my father has put together a little black mask from a piece of cloth and string, and is playing the cowboy in a Cowboy vs. Indians game with his friends on the street. Let’s set this scene aside again for just a little bit longer. It’s me, and I’m barely four, and I’m laughing my ass off. I’m trying to use my arms as a jumping rope and failing. On screen (now it’s always on screen) a bunch of monkeys are dancing to a tenacious jazzy and swingy tune, scatting nonsensical sounds on screen, and dancing around a bear wearing coconuts as an ape disguise. This is, at this time, my definition of fun, and even more, Mowgli is the first character in an animated film that even remotely looks like me. And oh, I love him and Baloo. So when I find out King Louie, the orangutan, (what a funny word 2 orangutan is for a four year old) is trying to dupe Mowgli into giving him the secret of fire, thus letting him gain power, because he wants to be like me, walk like me, talk like me, oohoo, I realize he is the villain. I remember how out of place he would sound when he called Mowgli his cousin.