Front Business–Back Business: The Social Anatomy of Small-Time Drug Dealing in a Mexico City Neighborhood

Introduction

Marketplaces, including those offering illicit goods and services, are an expression of neighborhood and community that reflect the daily activities of residents, and transcend mere economic exchange. Illicit markets are not novel to marginalized communities. They are a natural outgrowth of their legitimate equivalents, manifesting the need to generate additional income for cash-strapped residents (Venkatesh 2006). In a country where the minimum wage is $4.65 a day, it is no surprise that underground economy is an integral part of survival in the Mexico City neighborhood of Tepito. ¹ In this neighborhood, historic market activities provided fertile ground for the emergence of a thriving subterranean economy that is not only tolerated but also beneficial to its residents. Using ethnographic methods, we pay particular attention to the low-level drug trade in Tepito. We highlight the broader socioeconomic context of small-time drug dealing, and attempt to convey the inhabitants’ point of view through their personal biographies and behavior.

We found that licit (front) businesses are important to the commercial life of Tepito, but they rarely yield sufficient income for some merchants to survive. Given birth by necessity, illicit (back) businesses supply households with additional income. Both are woven into the social fabric of the neighborhood, with outlets for illicit drugs concealed in auto mechanic business and commercial stalls in the market. We discovered that drug selling was an important source of supplemental income for a particular segment of low-level dealers who combine their proceeds with legal sources of income from their legitimate business. These “low-profile” dealers are distinguishable from those dealers working for cartels. In the course of our research, we discovered that traditional conceptions of deviance are not useful in explaining the small-time independent dealers who consider their activities as a normal means to augment household income.

Research Methods and Data

We began our work for this article in 2015 during a postdoctorate scholarship at the Instituto de Investigaciones Sociales at Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (UNAM). In 2016, we engaged an informant, who continues to conduct interviews and participant observation. Our data are drawn from countless hours of fieldwork and in-depth interviews with male residents between twenty-five and sixty years old from Tepito (forty-five), Iztapalapa (twenty-four), and Tacubaya (twenty). One of the authors took part in a five-day pilgrimage from Mexico City to Chalma. The pilgrims included men and women who ranged from their twenties to fifties, and physically strong enough for the sixty-mile walk. During the 120-kilometer walk, the participants were given food and crude lodging often on bare concrete floors by residents in the small villages through which they passed. The pilgrimage was a particularly important event in that it eroded the visibility of the researcher by what (Stoddart 1986, 109–13) refers to as “display of symbolic attachment” by participating in routines of subjects. During this pilgrimage, the participants allowed him to record numerous interviewers with drug dealers. We also benefited by access to eleven video recorded interviews with inmates from a juvenile detention center in which detainees discussed their criminal biographies, and recorded interviews with criminologists (ten), and representatives of nongovernmental organizations (NGO) investigating corruption and drug trafficking in Mexico (nine).

Barrios like Tepito are dangerous and precarious places that are closed to outsiders because residents tend to be unwilling to cooperate with outsiders wishing to conduct research. Moreover, the greater degree of difference between subjects, the more complex is the ritual of gaining entry often because the identity of a researcher poses psychological difficulties, and danger in negotiating with gatekeepers (Haberstein 1970; Denzin 1978; Hammersley and Atkinson 1983; Burgess 1984; Ball 1990; Shaffir and Stebbins 1991). Therefore, we found it essential to be assisted by an insider who was familiar to residents and knew the neighborhood. The problem, however, was locating an intermediary that fit the bill. To make matters worse, we were discouraged by UNAM from approaching this topic through qualitative research or participant observation. University personnel considered it far too dangerous of an endeavor and possessed no contacts among those in the illicit drug trade.

After a number of persistent informal inquiries, the technical coordinator of the particular UNAM project agreed to introduce us to somebody who worked with the poor in Tepito. She arranged for us to meet Miguel at a lucha libre (professional wrestling) match. Miquel was initially suspicious of our intentions. However, gaining his trust was paramount to gaining entry to the research setting. We learned that we were naïve to assure him that our research involved no harm or threat to those subjects involved. We soon discovered that the potential (indeed likelihood for harm) would be to Miguel and anyone conducting research. In short, Tepito was an extremely dangerous setting, as were the subjects we wished to interview.

Added to his reluctance of Miguel to agree to assist us was the fact that both researchers were Caucasian and faced considerable obstacles initially in developing a rapport with Miguel. One of the researchers was fluent in Spanish, and as a European, experienced less suspicion than the other—an American from the United States who was perceived as a wealthy target for robbery. One of the authors was much more successful gaining entry and carrying out the participant observation and interviews with the drug dealers of focus for our research. When subjects learned that the primary researcher was from Poland, they were more inclined to allow him access to sensitive material and situations. They were also enamored with Pope John Paul II and were eager to talk about him and show pictures and images that adorned their homes and businesses.

Miguel introduced us to local drug dealers and vouched for our legitimacy, and guaranteeing our safety. His work was indispensable in completing our research. He explained the functioning of the formal and informal networks in Tepito and secured entry by using his personal contacts with people who otherwise remain invisible. Such snowballing is a common and useful technique for ethnographers to obtain subjects in research settings that may be closed to outsiders (Berg 2007; Giampietro and Molle 2017). Research also suggests that such an intermediator is essential in such a hostile environment to gain entry and establish trust in the community (Fielding 2005; Jenkins 2015; Chomczyński 2018). Miguel also triangulated observations and provided extensive field notes after forays in the field. Our selection and conceptualization of these dealers as “low-profile” is because they must literally remain invisible to representatives of drug trafficking organizations followed from the use of this snowball technique of gaining access and interviewing the local drug dealers for our study.

The Research Setting: The Informal Economy of Tepito

The setting for our research is Tepito, a barrio in Colonia Morelos (a short walk from the historic center of Mexico City) known for its open-air market as early as the Colonial Era (1521–1821) as part of the Aztec Tlatelolco market (Davis and Ruiz de Teresa 2013). Tepito has a number of dubious distinctions. It is affectionately known as el barrio bravo (the brave and angry neighborhood) for its reputation for resisting authority and propensity to produce professional boxers. Official data on population is sketchy, although some have reported that thirty-eight thousand residents reside there with an additional ten thousand vendors drifting in daily (D. Hernández 2011). Tepito is the last of the “horseshoe slums” that once surrounded central Mexico City. One defining characteristic of these neighborhoods was the casas de vecindad akin to the tenements of the Lower East Side in New York City, the Mietskaserne in Berlin, or the conventillos of Buenos Aires. Similar to those on the Lower East Side, that housed immigrants from Eastern Europe, Tepito casas de vecindad were originally populated by rural migrants to Mexico City, and provided the research setting for Oscar Lewis’s classic work The Children of Sanchez. The dense concentration of the poor in Tepito provided natural setting for the development of open-air markets (tianguis), an important social institution since Pre-Hispanic times (A. Hernández and Roush 2008).

Many of the seventy-two blocks of Tepito are an intricate maze of alleyways jammed with endless rows of market stalls beneath a multitude of colorful umbrellas and awnings. While there are many markets in Mexico City that specialize in flowers, herbal cures, or spiritual tonics, Tepito has become known as a market for fayuca (contraband). Always known as a hub for crime in Mexico City, the proliferation of illicit drug market activities over time has made Tepito very risky for anyone not from the neighborhood. It is a place where lethal violence is common and has been the focus of a great deal of security strategies. By 2010, street-level drug retailing had positioned itself as one of the most profitable illegal businesses in Mexico (Davis and Ruiz de Teresa 2013). Following an initial visit, one of the authors captured his impression in fieldnotes.

I was surprised by intensity of this place. Very differentiated assortment of pirated (CD’s, clothes, shoes), watches, pieces of art, knives, and machetes. The place was very crowded—you could see a lot of people accompanied by loud music and merchants hawking their wares. I felt fear in spite of being accompanied by Miguel who had promised to take care of me. My unease was caused by lack of tourists and facilities that usually are located in crowded inhabited places such as restaurants, offices, or a police station. ²

These first impressions were confirmed in our interviews, and re-echoed in a recent exchange with Miguel, who reaffirmed omnipresent crime bolstered by an established norm of corruption.

Till today [February 2018] there has been no effective measure to stop the crime in Tepito. I can still see the same dynamics all around the neighborhood. Drug dealing, homicide and extortion are allowed and protected by a system that is defined by corruption of all sorts, all levels of society are involved in this festered way of living. ³

Interviews and supporting documents reveal that the illicit market occupies a significant part of economic activity in Tepito (Davis 2013; Martinez 2005; Hollander 2004).

Like most other black markets, there is stable and geographic concentration of vendors specialized in the type of illegal merchandise (e.g., drugs) or service (e.g., prostitution) (Rengert 2018). While walking in the neighborhood, Miguel noted the fact that each type of illicit business is located in specific street or alley and in the eyes of trusted clients functions as the “business map” helpful in fulfilling their daily needs.

For example, in Bartolome street there are all the guys that sell the pirated CDs. In Tenochtitlan, Jesús Carranza and Aztecas [streets] are many of the tienditas [drug selling points]. Many of my friends used to work in this place, a large compound with small rooms where the drugs were sold. There are a few entering points controlled by guys that check that no strangers gain access without authorization. If you are a customer you only have access to the selling stands, leaving your backpacks in the entrance. If you want to have access to more exclusive areas to make bigger deals, they have armed security that frisks you so you don’t have any weapons, and you have to be invited or you have to go with someone known to them. These compounds could go as big as a whole blocks and only the residents and the people dealing are allowed in these areas. They have all sorts of front businesses, but their income also comes from drug dealing. Throughout the years, I have seen entire neighborhoods dedicated to this type of business, some of them have been raided by the police, but many subsist and are thriving venues till this day. ⁴

Much like van Dun’s (2014) work in rural Peru, or others in the Brazilian favelas (see, e.g., Arias 2006), we observed that the illicit economy of drug dealing dominated the community, leading to an acceptance and even protection by residents. Therefore, we concluded that a simple binary division between legal and illegal markets is an inaccurate point of analysis to understand the drug dealing in Tepito. Instead, this economic activity makes up a continuum where legal and illegal sales of products coexist, with little distinction between the two. Part of this is because residents are connected to and rely on each other for survival, and thus are more apt to view dealing as any other informal activity to generate additional income for disadvantaged residents in poor communities. This is consistent with previous research addressing the underground economy of the urban poor in Chicago. The dealers that we studied were well aware that their activities were illegal, but did not assess it in moral or ethical terms, but essential to household income that is viewed differently than other forms of criminal activity. This perspective has received support in recent research in economically distressed neighborhoods in Chicago.

Residents may weigh delinquent activity that has an economic dimension differently than, say, crime of passion like domestic violence or assault. This does not mean that all underground activity is tolerated. But if the activity generates income, any ethical dilemmas it creates must also be judged in terms of how the activity supports a household and even the wider community. (Venkatesh 2006, 74)

Like others, we also argue that drug dealing like any other activity in the informal economy is an “adaptive mechanism” (Valdez and Kaplan 2007, 2) to structural socioeconomic factors, and underemployment that over time leads to the business having intergenerational ties to family members and significant others (Macit 2018). Therefore, the traditional approach to drug dealing in social science literature as deviant behavior (Becker 1953; Adler 1993; Prus and Grills 2003; Bourgois 2003; Williams 1989) is an inadequate lens through which to view the community support and protection this activity engenders in Tepito. That drug markets are conceived as deviant might stem from the fact that a dominant view in the United States involves conceiving of dealers in moralistic terms, rather than as work in the informal economy (Skolnick 1992). The conception of drug dealing as immoral stems, in part, from the fact that illicit markets are, by definition, illegal and therefore undermine or otherwise impede the normal functioning of political, legal, and economic institutions (Priest 1994). This view assumes that there can be no moral justification for underground economies in general and illicit drug dealing in particular. However, for the dealers that we studied in Tepito, this activity is central to family survival and embedded in the routine activities of the neighborhood.

Trust, Distrust, as Social Capital

Much of the drug trade in Mexico is based on trust from large exporters of cocaine, methamphetamine, and heroin to the intermediate distributors in the United States to internal shipments in Mexico, which are done in consignments most of the time (Keefe 2018). Similarly, trust is important in understanding the illicit drug market in Tepito. Previous research suggests that the more illegal and risky illicit ventures are, the more its members have to protect themselves from an unsuccessful deal or deception by one of the parties (Schneider and Schneider 2008; Paoli 2003). Trust between dealers and clients is an essential component of the illicit drug market (Chalmers and Bradford 2013) in that it minimizes the chances of being ripped off and ensures that dealers operate in a protective climate by selling mainly to known clients (Potter 2009; Werse 2008; Denton 2001; Mieczkowski 1994). Our work, however, revealed that a distrust of others is more useful in understanding drug market functioning in Tepito. Fukuyama’s (1996) conception of the term offered a clearer component of drug market functioning. His point of view was based on the value of distrust. In one passage, he describes a young boy from Sicily whose father instructs him to jump from a fence straight to his arms. When the son consents and jumps, the father backs off so his son experiences a hard landing. The lesson from the father is not to trust anyone. Similarly, Tepiteños are socialized to distrust any outsider, including law enforcement or government officials. In Tepito, trust is limited to family members, close friends, or long-term associates but never outsiders. Those who participate in drug sales are trusted by virtue of being relatives, members of the community, or participants in common illicit activities.

Trust is produced and maintained by reciprocity of perspectives of community members (Schütz 1953). It provides a link to credit or similar activities with postponed reciprocity. Through similar biographies, and a collective trajectory (similar shared experiences throughout their life course), they are able to empathize with others. It makes their actions and behavior predictable to each other. Jorge added, “We know each other very well, and we know who is who, because we have been through the same things.” For example, people who take drugs help others to get off drugs and find a job. Antonio exemplifies how roles are dynamic, being both taken and created (Turner 1956). As a drug trafficker who also accompanies residents on religious pilgrimages, he combines these two seemingly contradictory roles to help the others.

I’m praying with these people and walking with them [taking part in pilgrimages]. I was also living on the street. I’m still taking cocaine, I’m still taking marijuana, but I want also to help people and get them off the streets. ⁵

This collective trajectory produces a mutual understanding and trust that creates a bond that solidifies social support, which indirectly protects the illicit market. Those who are actively engaged in the marketing of drugs, for example, produce protective mechanisms that symbolically and physically protect the “zone of trade” from threats from the outside that endanger it.

The Dealer’s View: The Normalcy of It All

The dealers that we studied were integrated into the sociocultural fabric of the neighborhood where their front businesses coexisted with their back business. Some sold watches, others repaired engines, while others peddled T-shirts and shoes. All of them functioned in the large market in Tepito. Both activities are complimentary and allow families to gain the additional income. One of the first low-profile dealers that we met was Sanchez.

I was guided by my friend, an intermediator who knew “the field” very well. He introduced me to Sanchez, who ran a small business selling watches. His stall was not more than five square meters and was divided into two very small rooms. The first one was a little larger, accessible directly from the passage and designed for official front business: the selling of watches and related accessories. The second one was both social room and back business’ “office,” where Sanchez was storing and selling marijuana and crack cocaine. ⁶

His marijuana varied in quality, but came primarily from suppliers in Sinaloa. He obtains his products from intermediaries associated with drug cartels. He prefers remaining independent, and avoids being under their control, which would place him at risk for a “contract” to sell greater amounts and expose himself to the danger brought on by the intense competition for drug selling locations. “Being in a cartel is like being in a company. I don’t want to be forced to sell in the plaza out of a small box [market stall] twelve hours a day, every day, or respond to some boss if something goes wrong,” he commented referring to why he avoids attracting the attention of a cartel. ⁷

It is important to note that the reliance on small-time drug dealing reflects national and perhaps global economic conditions that give birth to illicit market activities. Sanchez has a wife and daughter to support and has few options available regardless of his desire to be solely employed in the legal sector of the economy.

Most of the guys selling drugs came from families with a long tradition in commerce, craftsmanship, or professions that prepare most of them for the illegal trade and business required in these types of endeavors. Many of these guys would rather work in legal jobs if they had the opportunity to obtain decent salaries to support the needs of their families. This is a tendency that I have seen in many corners of our country [Mexico], both rural and urban environments, and its impact in Tepito. It is an everyday reality. ⁸

In the view of the residents, those engaged in drug selling are community members, friends, and family, or “one of us” as one informant stated in an interview (Jorge). Illicit market players are close to each other by the net of intense face-to-face social bonds where anonymity does not exist. In short, they are strongly affected by reference groups (see Turner 1956). The situation is much more complex and nuanced to those participating in what otherwise are illegal activities in a place where the illicit economy influences the lives of nearly all the residents (van Dun 2014). For insiders on the ground, the distinction between the legal and illegal is blurred. The illicit activities of Tepiteños are deeply rooted in the socioeconomic context of place that does not acknowledge clear divisions of legal and illegal because both licit and illicit economic activities are identified by them as indistinguishable; the same people operate a front business as a legal source of income to cover for a back business. In short, they do not define the situation and activities in a legal or illegal sense but as complementary parts of family income much like someone moonlighting to make ends meet. Therefore, traditional sociological conceptions of deviance are unsuitable for analyzing their activities.

Keeping a Low Profile

Participants in the illicit economy of drug dealing are required to follow informal and unwritten rules that are produced and maintained by cartels. ⁹ For low-level drug dealers like Sanchez, there is substantial risk involved in attracting the attention of those affiliated with cartels. Cartels are continually competing for market share by dominating plazas to sell their products, with violent results (Correa-Cabrera 2017). Cooperating with a cartel (willingly or unwillingly) would significantly increase the personal risk for a dealer and their family. Jorge, who manages a safehouse for illegal operations such as the storage and packaging of illegal drugs, stated that “when you keep a low profile, you are more invisible to the [cartels].” ¹⁰ Therefore, we chose the term “low-profile” to distinguish these dealers from other low-level drug dealers employed by cartels. The dealers that we studied were acutely aware of the danger of becoming too successful, and adapt by selling only small amounts of drugs so as not to attract the attention of the cartels. They could also be distinguished by the part-time and flexible nature of their activities as well as blending it with legitimate businesses in the market. If a drug dealer gets too greedy, or too successful by growing too fast, his cover is compromised and he will likely be forced to distribute for the cartel. In doing so, a dealer is obliged to sell a quota of drugs rather than operating on an independent basis as his need for income dictates. Interviews with community members engaged in drug selling confirmed the inherent risks involved in working for a cartel as opposed to being a freelancer.

When you are selling at a selling point, you have to have protection from another guy called a dieciocho (eighteen is a code for seeing law enforcement). They (the cartel) tell you that you are going to work as a dieciocho, as the guy who brings protection to your other partner who is selling directly crack and marijuana to protect him from rival groups, and these guys have to carry a 9-mm side arm to protect the selling point. I have a friend who is now recovering from two shots (bullet wounds) he had at a street market because he had a fight with a rival group. ¹¹

The risk escalates with the increased exposure, according to this informant. Moreover, he contrasted two situations—the first when one is arrested being forced only to forfeit the product, with the other when one is exposed being forced to join the cartel. Low-level independent dealers lose only the product that they have purchased themselves to sell, the others lose the opportunity to run their businesses independently and decide on their own.

Furthermore, to elaborate his operations, a dealer has to expand and intensify the activity by increasing the number of clients, and therefore, losing personal contacts to fulfill the monetary quota demanded each month. What is more, the risk is a one-way arrangement possibly endangering the dealer and profiting the cartel only. Another informant (Rudolfo) who once worked for a cartel stated, “It is very dangerous to work for the cartel because of the cost of getting out. You are promoted as high [up the ladder] as you are useful and then you are disposable, ‘carne de cañon’ [cannon fodder]. You go to the front and you die.” ¹² Clearly when considering enlarging their client’s list, both the high-profile, violent activities of criminal gangs related to the cartels and the knowledge that once you throw in with them there is little chance of turning back, persuades small dealers to fly under the radar. The explanation why this vibrant underground economic activity flourishes in Tepito lies in a number of social processes that we discuss below.

Protection of the Illicit Market

In the course of our work, we found that in order to adequately function for Tepito inhabitants, the illicit market needs to be protected. In this section and the three that follow, we will discuss the means by which this occurs. First, there is a sense by residents of an impending threat from forces outside the neighborhood. Second, there are lookouts on the street that protect illicit market activities. As mentioned earlier, the physical infrastructure serves as a seemingly impenetrable camouflage for those unfamiliar with the neighborhood. Finally, corruption and bribery overtly protect the illegal market activities. As mentioned before, many residents are highly motivated to protect the market because they are directly or indirectly (personally, but also their relatives, friends, etc.) benefiting from it. The protection is performed on different levels to make it most effective. Over time, the deep connection to commerce (legal or illegal) would have bred strong personal ties and a sense of Gemeinschaft (Tönnies 2001) that inhabitants seek to maintain. Tepiteños identify themselves with the neighborhood, and are focused on defending their autonomy, lifestyle, and integrity from outsiders (Davis and Ruiz de Teresa 2013). There is a constant perception of an imminent threat from prior incursions made by the police, cartels, and real estate developers. Miguel highlighted the characteristics of Tepiteños.

The thing is that they don’t want; they don’t like outsiders. They are very reluctant of strangers, they are always protecting their neighborhood. This is also very distinctive quality of Tepito’s inhabitants. They fight for their neighborhood, their land, and for their places, for their business, for their home. They defend them very often. They don’t want anybody from outside to come and say how they are supposed to live. They like to be their own bosses. Right now, cartels are more present in suburbs, borders of Estado de Mexico than Tepito.

The community’s need to be protected (including the protection of the underground economy) is highly reinforced by a number of outsiders’ attempts to take control over Tepito. Indeed, Logan and Molotch (1987) observed that sometimes residents have to fear legitimate organizations such as developers or municipalities that have the potential to be a threat to the physical and demographic composition of a neighborhood, because their “routine functioning reorganizes urban space.” They point out that many people are forced to move out of the neighborhood because of increases in rent, property values, or the sale of buildings (Logan and Molotch 1987, 111). Therefore, poor neighborhoods like the one in Tepito are the most vulnerable to social and physical gentrification by developers and municipal bureaucracies, because of the fact that their existence depresses the exchange value of the property. One of the most well-known attempts to seize control of Tepito was made in 2003 by real estate developers under the guise of ensuring security for the neighborhood (Davis 2013). Moreover, poor residents seldom have control (in the official sense) over such forms of neighborhood change because of their lack of economic and political power. With the election of a new mayor of Mexico City, the government has also attempted to break up the stronghold of Tepito (a 62,431-square-feet housing complex) that is often referred to as La Fortaleza (The Fortresses).

One effort to take down La Fortaleza inside Tepito occurred around 2007 when Mayor Marcelo Ebrad’s administration started an operation to dismantle an extensive compound of houses around Jesús Carranza street, one of the most important drug-selling points inside the neighborhood. Two and a half years before that happened, another important selling venue located in Tenochtitlán street was dismantled. ¹³

Therefore, it is unlikely that residents of Tepito are able to distinguish between their real and perceived existential threats. They are acutely aware of the anxiety that any threat to undermine the use value of neighborhood poses. This is probably the reason why Tepiteños have developed informal ways to protect their neighborhood from outsiders suspected of trying to exert influence over their daily life. In discussing the social structure of the slum, Suttles (1968) likened this to fortifications that residents protect against the danger of interlopers. Based on interviews with community members and participant observation, we distinguished a number of lines of defense.

Communication as Protection—Restricted Codes and Los Ojos

Personal relations make social interactions between actors dense, intense, permanent, and effective because they are based on what Bernstein calls a “restricted code.” This refers to a manner of speaking that is embedded in identity, and in this case, illicit activities (van Dun 2014). “Restricted codes reduce the need to verbalize intent so that it becomes explicit. The speech in these social relations is likely to be fast and fluent, articulatory clues are reduced; some meanings are likely to be dislocated, condensed and local; there will be a low level of vocabulary and syntactic selection; the unique meaning of the individuals is likely to be implicit” (Bernstein 1971, 100). Therefore, restricted codes have excluding attributes making interaction safe, because they are not visible to others who are not involved in the action. One of the authors illustrated how this functions on the streets of Tepito.

When I was on the street with Miguel, I saw him interacting with people in his surroundings in an almost imperceptible manner. During our conversation, he observed carefully the surroundings and was calling, blinking, whistling, or whispering from time to time. Then I realized that by doing that, he was making small deals. The same situation also occurred in a drug safehouse when I observed numerous transactions negotiated with gestures and a single phrase. ¹⁴

Restricted codes are derived from a symbolic communication based on a mutual understanding of content and similar experiences of social actors (Schütz 1953) that produce similar definitions of a situation (Mead 1932; Blumer 1969). They are a much more efficient form of communication where the sender and receiver possess experience-based knowledge of the ways to create, identify, and interpret symbolic gestures. They are also a more inconspicuous way to communicate while concealing meaning from outsiders, much like the argot of any subcultural group (Schütz 1953; Garfinkel 1967). Even if somebody from the outside overhears something, it is difficult to decode the message because it requires the knowledge of the hidden context.

In Tepito, Los Ojos are people specialized and trained in observing and reporting the presence of outsiders to those engaged in illicit activities. These “eyes on the street” are an essential component of urban neighborhoods that perform vital functions in contributing to and maintaining the social order (Jacobs 1961; Anderson 1990; van Dun 2014). They frequently use scooters to move about the densely packed and narrow streets and alleys with two-way radios. Their only role is to identify suspicious outsiders and deliver information inside the community (Martinez 2005). When first gaining entry to the neighborhood, we were completely unaware of their presence, until Miguel winked, “They knew about us as soon as we left the metro station.”

Los Ojos protect the neighborhood’s illicit activities by keeping the outsiders under surveillance. They are accustomed to using restricted codes.

Standing on the street in Iztapalapa and conducting an interview with a former cartel member I observed Miguel communicating with somebody that could hardly be seen by us. He waved his hand in a specific way, using fingers to show something, and began whistling some short rhythms nearly unnoticeable to a casual observer or visitor. After a while, some guy approached us with cigarettes, sharing them with us. ¹⁵

Overall, this communication is an important component of the social order of the neighborhood, protection and management of the illicit market, and essential for Los Ojos to carry out their clandestine function as informants, and informal security and reconnaissance personnel.

The Physical Infrastructure and Protection of the Illicit Market

The intricate geography of the neighborhood also protects the illicit market. The streets of Tepito, where many of the merchant’s stalls are located, are extremely narrow, making it difficult for the police to penetrate. For those unfamiliar with the neighborhood, there are a multitude of indistinguishable structures that appear camouflaged and disorienting. This is complicated by the absence of distinguishable buildings or landmarks, which makes negotiating the intricacies of the neighborhood nearly impossible except for those local residents who accomplish it seemingly by instinct, as fieldnotes reveal.

After the first day spent in Tepito, I had a strong impression that after a few turns right and left I completely lost my orientation. All the buildings looked the same. The low profile of the infrastructure and the narrow corridors made it very difficult to find my way back to the subway station. I was unable to triangulate the space, because I couldn’t see any distinguishable buildings or landmarks. The place was overwhelming. The noise and hubbub, the merchants’ shouts and clients’ loud negotiations effectively prevented me from focusing and retrieving any semblance of a mental map of where I’d been or how to get back. ¹⁶

Adding to this, we later learned that there are tunnels, false floors, and safehouses where drugs are packaged for distribution, or CDs and DVDs are copied for the thriving black market in pirated goods that is so extensive that one filmmaker found his own film for sale even though it had yet to be released (Hollander 2004). These illicit physical spaces are equipped with hidden emergency exits or ladders to the roof that provide quick access to the labyrinth of back alleys. The closed courtyards and crowded streets of Tepito make it impenetrable to law enforcement to pursue suspects. The protection offered by the infrastructure is also complemented by the density of the population inhabiting Tepito and the throngs of pedestrians, scooters, and obstacles crowding the streets. This provides the needed cover, anonymity, and invisibility for illicit activities.

Corruption and Bribery

Local authorities tolerate the illicit market of drugs for several reasons. Mexico City has been credited as being one of the most important drug markets in the country with more than forty thousand drug-selling points in the city, many of which are in Tepito and Iztapalapa (Milenio 2010). Political officials directly benefit from the illicit market operations and garner political support through voting blocks. Many of the pirated DVDs are distributed locally in stalls or by ambulantes or vagoneros—vendors pushing carts. In the past, vendors formed unions that had cut deals with the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI), in exchange for bribes and votes to operate (Morris and Klesner 2010, 1259). Later when the PRI was voted out of office, the incoming party, the Revolutionary Democratic Party (PRD), attempted to officially clamp down on illegal street vending, but eventually the PRD was demanding contributions from a new (re-formed) union of merchants (Treverton et al. 2009). During an interview, Raúl described how the municipal government benefits financially and actively regulates the illicit economy. The legal and illegal are overlapping economic activities difficult to separate from each other operating in the larger context of corruption.

I cannot say for sure but I think probably 80 percent of Tepito’s [businesses] are illegal or related to illegal practices. For example, I can pay my rent to a syndicate (sindicato) leader that subsequently pays a bribe to the delegación [a municipal body equivalent to a borough] so I can work in public spaces. Maybe I sell pirated goods or other illegal merchandise. The local government profits from the underground economy because merchants have to pay local political representatives to keep law enforcement away. This is done by the use of a daily card that is given to merchants to pay a sum to continue to operate. The cards and money are collected at the end of the day. If a merchant refuses to pay, their merchandise may be confiscated indefinitely, or given to other merchants as a punishment for the failure to pay. ¹⁷

This sort of extortion is very common in Mexico, and takes a number of forms, most notably within the ranks of law enforcement, especially on the local level. To the extent that corruption is a prominent feature that is embedded in the political-legal order in Mexico, law enforcement in effect sanction the underground economy, including drug markets. Municipal representatives are paid to keep police out of the illicit zone, or to simply turn a blind eye to criminal activity. Several factors make bribery and payoffs a logical and necessary part of being a police officer, the most obvious of which is the lack of training and extremely low salaries that vary by region. A 2011 report by Sistema Nacional de Seguridad Pública, for example, found that in some regions the average pay for local police officers was less than $350.00 a month (Justice in Mexico 2011).

Our interviews revealed that corruption is not limited to a few rotten apples, as is commonly perceived, but the entire institutional culture. The following is an example of the sort of routine shakedowns of drug dealers that occurs on the streets of Mexico City in plain view of the citizenry. Daniel had a quiet demeanor, and could pass for a young professional. He supported his family in part by trafficking cocaine. He provided an example that took place in a posh area of Mexico City that is emblematic of the sort of quotidian corruption that flourishes among the ranks of law enforcement.

I was driving a Volkswagen Golf through an exclusive part of the city called La Condesa on my way to Iztapalapa. I had a brick of cocaine worth about 290,000 pesos (a little over $15,000 in 2018) strapped to me. Suddenly a traffic cop pulled me over. I started arguing with him, and he grabbed my sweatshirt exposing the coke. He called for backup, and a Federal police commandant showed up. At first, I tried to say that the traffic cop had planted the cocaine and threatened to sue the city. The commandant explained that if I wanted to proceed, he would tell my family that I was a drug dealer. I have a daughter that is getting her law degree in a few months, and if she found out that I was doing this kind of thing she would be disappointed. He [the commandant] proposed letting me go if I gave him the cocaine. I did not want to lose the cocaine so offered him my car instead of the drugs. He didn’t accept. He wanted the merchandise. All this time, the traffic cop was standing nearby. After talking to the traffic cop, the commandant came back and said that I’d better make a deal fast because the cop was going to call for more backup. He now asked me for the coke and the car to bribe the traffic cop. In the end, I had to agree, and they let me go. I suppose the Federal police kept the cocaine, and the traffic cop got the car as the price of my freedom. Maybe it was my bad luck or someone knew I had the cocaine and set me up. Either way, this is a good example of the corruption that exists in all levels of our society. ¹⁸

There is some evidence suggesting that those attracted to the profession have ulterior motives that involve criminal gain by using the badge to expand their existing activities in the sale and distribution of narcotics or stolen goods. Officers often lack education beyond primary or secondary school, have a history of violence, or have fled other departments where they have been discharged for violence, corruption, or links to drug trafficking organizations. The situation has led to an embedded subculture where “corruption is the norm, and honest performance of one’s nominal duty is treated as deviant behavior” (Botello and Rivera 2000, 61). While the community may not approve the corruption, they, nevertheless, tolerate it because it is as Raúl put it the “grease that makes the machine work” in the underground economy of Mexico City.

Conclusion

Our research indicates that a considerable amount of economic activity in Tepito takes place on the subterranean level involving the distribution and sale of illicit merchandise and services. The licit and illicit market exist simultaneously, with illicit activities emerging out of the inability of the broad economy to provide sustenance for residents. Therefore, both the legal and illegal market complement each other. Although we focus on drug dealing, the scope of the illicit market encompasses virtually any product sold or service delivered in Tepito from contraband, illegal drugs, piracy, weapons, and contract killing. We found that Tepito residents consider their participation in the illicit market as informal work rather than deviant activity in the traditional sense, possibly because they do not look at it in the same manner as they would a violent crime. For the dealers that we studied, selling drugs is akin to working “off the books” as other members of an underclass, in that it yields needed income in an economy that has long ceased to yield any semblance of economic well-being. In addition, we found that the subgroup of dealers that we termed “low-profile” avoided attracting the attention of drug cartels, which could place them in considerable danger physically as well as by being forced to sell larger amounts of product in undesirable conditions. They operated more independently, and expanded or contracted their activities as their economic necessity dictated. Keeping a low profile is a business decision that involves selling to trusted clients, and developing protective mechanisms that insulates them from risk. This allowed us to distinguish low-level from “low-profile” drug dealers.

The illicit market and underground economy is also supported by a complicit citizenry that produced the definition of situation as being abandoned by institutions of the state, under siege by outsiders who seek to control Tepito’s underground economy, or displace the residents to make way for lucrative land development and gentrification. The long-term effects of these outside threats have produced a fierce loyalty to the neighborhood drawn from a historical “chip on the shoulder” or opposition mentality embodied in the neighborhood’s propensity to produce well-known boxers in the past. The community’s commonly shared identification as being the underdog also has its origins in historical periods when the neighborhood was known not only for being a market center but also for endemic poverty. In earlier times, Tepito was a geographic castaway area where residents made use of discarded items gathered from the rest of Mexico City.

The mere willingness to participate in an illicit market that is increasingly exhibiting a transnational character is not enough to establish such an entrenched and intransigent phenomenon, and a populace willing to fend off police incursions. There is a complex entanglement of social relations that involves kinship, self-interest, and cooperation that helps sustain the daily activities of the illicit market through intelligence gathering and dissemination. Cooperation is also fostered by the residents’ sense that the fate of the neighborhood, and therefore their immediate survival, depends on their participation in activities that perpetuate both licit and illicit activities.

Trafficking in contraband and illegal services is also facilitated by a system of bribes and corruption and officials that directly benefit from the proceeds of the underground economy. Corruption is essential in the functioning of the illicit market in Tepito, and we suspect any illicit market. Therefore, traditional means to eradicate the vending of illegal products and services based on law enforcement efforts will not likely work because they do not address the underlying benefit to public officials, and citizens alike.

Finally, we would like to propose that the “Tepito effect” might not be an aberration, but more of a prominent feature of marginalized communities in all cities that is a product of the growing global inequality similar to the poor studied by Venkatesh (2006). We encourage future research in other cities premised on the perspectives of the inhabitants and participants in illicit activities. As well, our research implies that a much broader conception of deviant activity is needed to understand illicit markets, which includes historical antecedents that stages them, and contemporary socioeconomic factors sustain them.