Usually, boarding a plane isn’t pleasant for most people, but this time the traveler finds ease in the journey. The goal is to outrun the harsh forecast of 46 degrees on Thursday, the kind of weather that feels like a suffocating memory. And so it goes. The prospect of weather in Southern Europe, even the slow, meandering crossing of Mexico City, becomes a small delight. Rolling down the taxi window to feel the 27 degrees announced for today on the ride from Benito Juárez Airport to the hotel brings a rare sense of comfort. It would be ideal if the prediction holds and the rain, that rare luxury spectacle, clears the air. It does. The clock hits half past four, exactly as planned.
Rarely has the sense of being in another world struck so deeply, not because of distant volcanoes or history filled with gunfire, but because one begins to breathe at a temperature suitable for ordinary life. The fact that this place ranks among some of the least hospitable urban environments on the planet underscores how challenging the local habitat has become. The traveler feels immediately at ease, a familiarity that also helps avoid long passport-control queues. A border guard explains that a simple passport scan is enough, much like at home. When the hosts arrive, exhaustion notwithstanding, exuberant joy cannot be suppressed.
Staying until ten in the evening—an informal password to beat jet lag—becomes the plan. The traveler tunes in to the Spanish-language channel CNÑ while searching for news. The first report encountered in the queues is striking: eight tons of cocaine from Ecuador seized in Rotterdam, a staggering figure that follows the assassination of a presidential candidate in the Andean country. Together, these reports sketch a bleak picture of Latin America, where drug trafficking influences are shaping the fate of several nations.
The broader problem seems to lie in Latin America itself. It becomes clear that the six individuals arrested for orchestrating the murder of the presidential candidate by the Construye Movement are of Colombian origin. In the surrounding dialogue, some voices point to criminal groups such as the Nuevo Jalisco cartel or the Sinaloa cartel, while others urge caution about premature conclusions. The political discourse echoes concerns raised by diverse leaders, highlighting a shared worry that organized crime has seeped across the subcontinent. The situation demands careful analysis rather than hasty judgments.
The focus then shifts to Villavicencio, a journalist renowned for robust investigations into political corruption and crime in Ecuador. His central thesis links corruption and organized crime, arguing that crime cannot flourish without political complicity. He pursued this belief through relentless reporting on corruption in oil administration, where he led the Oil Workers’ Union Federation, and in telecommunications, referred to as the political mafia, the arena where political power and criminal interests supposedly intertwined. These investigations appeared in the digital edition of Focus Ecuador and within his role on Ecuador’s National Assembly Oversight Commission. By casting light on these connections, his work framed a broader narrative about how corruption paves the way for criminal networks.
In May of the same year, a guest discussion on CNÑ featured a voice close to Indigenous communities asserting that Ecuador’s drug trafficking era began in 2007 when the Correa administration shut down the Manta base, a joint US-Ecuadorian facility. The base had provoked strong resistance, and its closure was cited as a boon for the FARC, a claim that played a significant part in funding arrangements discussed in the media. Villavicencio’s perspective cast the FARC as the armed wing of the cartels, a stark framing of Latin America as a region where political power and organized crime have long occupied the same terrain. He described the broader phenomenon as a “collusion” between political forces and criminal interests, with political actors and leaders potentially financed by drug trafficking. The troubling pieces of this puzzle are seen in the ongoing stories about political succession and violence that ripple through the region.
Villavicencio’s approach was marked by courage rather than force. He remained steadfast, relying on public security channels rather than resorting to extreme measures. His aim was for a government to act with bravery, not timidity or complicity. He warned that the fight against crime must be decisive, even suggesting drastic measures against the Hydra’s heads—the bosses of a system he termed the political mafia. The moment arrived when threats to his life became a persistent reality, yet his resolve to continue his political mission never faltered. He expressed a hope to safeguard the homeland from what he called illegitimate hands. The more violent the lands became, the more the need for courage and steadfast governance grew clear. The ultimate concern was that democracy and the civilizing function of the state would be preserved, or the world might face consequences beyond imagination.