The Eagle's Throne (28 page)

My father paused the film as the two characters kissed, and sat there in rapture, savoring the moment.

Then, after a long while, he turned to me.

“Thank you for coming to see me. I’ve been waiting for my squire.” He looked at me with a blank stare.

“Who are you, young man? Mantequilla or El Chicote?”

“Chicote, Father.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. Chicote. I’m Chicote, your loyal companion.”

“That’s what I want to hear. Come on, have a tequila and lime over here in the corner, it’s on me, we’ll drink until we fall over, and we’ll dream of all the women who let us down, you and me, soul mates. . . .”

Negrete sang on the screen, my father sang from his chair, and I sang too, holding on to my father’s hand, as we watched scenes from the movie
Me he de comer esa tuna.

L’águila siendo animal
se retrató en el dinero.
Para subir al nopal
pidió permiso primero.
²

Out on the patio, not paying us any attention, Gloria Marín watered her flowers and sang her own song: “I am a little virgin, I water the flowers. . . .”

She directed her gaze, coy and coquettish, at me.

I looked back at her.

You can say what you’re thinking, Josefina: “Of course you’d end up fucking her. . . .”

How sorry I am that your husband, honorable to a fault, had to tell you about my financial recovery plan, calling me a scumbag and a criminal. Let’s see how you and he navigate these turbulent political waters. I offered him a transatlantic liner. He’s willing to put up with a canoe. It’s in God’s hands now.

No matter what you read, no matter what they tell you, remember this: I’ll always be a politician, and politics is a business with many twists and turns. In politics, you assume your responsibilities and you get what you put into the job. That’s the way it has to be, that is the simple truth.

Yours,
T.

58

NICOLÁS VALDIVIA TO EX-PRESIDENT CÉSAR LEÓN

Distinguished president and esteemed friend: I know that nobody knows the rules of national politics as well as you. Every president leaves behind a rosary of more or less famous sayings that become part of our political folklore.

“In politics, you have to swallow frogs without flinching.”

“A politician who is poor is a poor politician.”

“He who doesn’t deceive, doesn’t achieve.”

“Onward and upward.”

“We are all the solution.”

“If things are going well for the president, things are going well for Mexico.”

I remember only two of yours.

“In order to preserve customs, we must break laws.”

“Becoming president is like reaching Treasure Island. Even if they expel you from the island, you’ll never stop yearning for it. You want to return, even though everyone—including yourself—tells you no.”

Very well, Mr. President, the moment has arrived. It’s time to abandon Treasure Island. I understand your feelings. You would like to be an agent of reconciliation at a difficult time for the republic.

You’ve stated publicly, “The struggle for power destroys the one thing that gives power any meaning, which is to create wealth for the country within a framework of peace and legality.”

I couldn’t agree with you more. And I understand your dismay, Mr. President. You’re anticipating the struggle ahead. You fear that it will degenerate into riots, civil war, balkanization, dog-eat-dog, and all that. And you see yourself as an agent of unity, experience, authority, and continuity.

Mr. President: I see how you act and I think that the politician who goes around thinking he’s more than he is will never know who he is.

This confusion, this lack of self-awareness, might be interesting material for psychoanalysis but it’s fatal for the person in question and, above all, the political health of the country.

I know what’s going through your mind—some matadors will die and some will shield themselves behind the barriers, but the fierce bull will never abandon his favorite spot in the arena.

Yes, I want to eliminate them all until he and I are the only two left.

So now the question is: Who is “he”? And who am “I”?

Yes, Mr. President, power effects its own fiction, according to the distinguished Chilean philosopher Martín Hopenhayn, in a reference to Kafka. And fifty years ago, Moya Palencia, interior secretary as I am now, said that in Mexico Kafka would be considered a chronicler of local customs.

I find it amusing that Mexicans call “customs” what the rest of the world, the
serious
world, calls realpolitik—which is nothing less than the politics of my friend Machiavelli: “Since all men are wicked and do not keep faith with you, you also do not have to keep it with them.” The Prince’s skill lies in his ability to use this evil reality in his own interest, while seeming to be acting in the interests of the people.

The crack in Machiavelli’s system, Mr. President, is the belief that the Prince’s enemies have been blinded by his glow and scared off by his power. The powerful man believes that wrongs can be righted by showering gifts.

“He’s deceiving himself,” my namesake would say.

The Prince would be better off decapitating all his enemies immediately and in one fell swoop. Doing it little by little, he would run the risk of leaving someone out.

“For injuries must be done all together . . . and benefits should be done little by little, so that they may be tasted better.”

That was your mistake, President León. In your eagerness to consolidate the power you achieved through elections (questionable elections, let’s face it), you lavished the benefits, adulation, perks, lucrative deals, in one fell swoop. You wanted to gain allies who could give you legitimacy, without realizing that no matter what you give to a blood-hound, it will always want
more.

And that
more
is power itself.

So you, Mr. President, have no cards left because you’ve dealt them all. In the process of seducing so many potential enemies you lost your chance to chop off their heads. The result? You’re loved by neither your friends, to whom you gave everything, nor your enemies, to whom you gave a little. And you know it.

“A few minutes ago, he was my friend. Half an hour was enough to make him my enemy.”

Be honest. Don’t lie. How many times have you said these words to yourself?

Believe me. I’m your friend, and I fully understand your complaint:

“Yesterday they were all cheering me! Today they’re all silent. If only they’d insult me at least! Yesterday I was indispensable. Today I’m a nuisance. If only they’d kick me out at least!”

I feel exactly the same way. And that is exactly what I am doing now, Mr. President.

My aide, Jesús Ricardo Magón, will be delivering this letter to you personally. He will then accompany you to the door of your house. From there, a military escort befitting your status and rank will escort you to the international airport, where a very comfortable seat awaits you in the first-class cabin of a Qantas Airways plane, which will take you directly to the beautiful land of the kangaroo, Australia. Once there, don’t forget to take note, please, of the marsupials who carry their young in pouches, so as to ensure the healthy growth and development of their offspring, and in turn of their descendants.

Extending you the assurance of my distinguished consideration and
wishing you a good journey,
Nicolás Valdivia

59

GENERAL MONDRAGÓN VON BERTRAB TO NICOLÁS VALDIVIA

Mr. Secretary, esteemed friend, in keeping with the principles of the republic and in compliance with Article 89, section VI of the constitution, I would like to inform you that in the early hours of the morning of today I saw to the death of General don Cícero Arruza, found guilty of sedition and of attempting to overthrow the legitimate government of this country by the ad hoc military tribunal that I assembled to address this urgent situation, in the knowledge that my actions would be fully supported and sanctioned by you, in the absence of an acting president following the terrible loss of President Lorenzo Terán.

You know as well as I do that there are times when it is incumbent upon the armed forces to act with speed, as long as these actions are in the interest of protecting our republican institutions.

General Cícero Arruza’s criminal intent is patent in the numerous letters he has sent me since the onset of the crisis in January, written with a recklessness that I can only attribute to drunken spirits. Reader that I am of both Clausewitz and Machiavelli, I cannot help but invert the German’s terms here and remark that politics is a continuation of war by other means. And as to the Florentine thinker, I would say that it is better to take preventive measures during times of peace than allow ourselves to be surprised during times of war. The threat posed by General Arruza’s coup attempt has been thoroughly eliminated.

I regret to inform you that General Arruza was discovered in bed, in the throes of an adulterous affair with Josefina Almazán, wife of our honorable treasury secretary, Andino Almazán. The general attempted to reach for a gun from beneath his pillow, and this, as you might imagine, provoked a response from the men sent to apprehend him. Unfortunately, the gunshots did not spare Mrs. Almazán, whose body has since been delivered to her husband, whose resignation, if I am not mistaken, should already be in your possession.

Mr. Secretary, I trust that you will understand and support my decision to remove General Arruza’s wounded body from the bed and to transport him in his last hours to the military headquarters of Military Zone XXVIII in Mérida. There, his body was placed standing up against a wall so that he could be put to his death in a manner worthy of his unquestionable military merits. I would like to say that he was afraid. He was not. Not because he was brave. Bravery was not possible for him at that moment: He no longer had a gun to speak his truth.

His last words from the bed were, “Nobody makes a fool of me.”

Later, as he took his last gulps of air, his body against the wall, he managed to say, “What’s the matter with you? Fire! Or don’t you have the balls?”

With respect, and in recognition of my obligation to render a faithful account of the aforementioned events, I remain, as always, under your command today and in any and all future circumstances that I may consider favorable for you and for our nation.

General Mondragón von Bertrab, DEM

P.S. The Yucatán is full of rock pools and underwater caves. Arruza has gone to a watery grave.

60

CONGRESSMAN ONÉSIMO CANABAL TO NICOLÁS VALDIVIA

To the president: With great satisfaction I hereby fulfill my constitutional obligation and inform you that, in strict adherence to Article 84 of the Political Constitution of the United Mexican States and in the absence of the plenary of the Honorable Congress of the Union that I am proud to preside over, I have convened the permanent commission of the same in the interest of pursuing the proceedings with respect to the appointment of the acting president who shall conclude the presidential term of don Lorenzo Terán, following his unfortunate death last week.

In the presence of all the members of the permanent commission and following the initiative of Paulina Tardegarda, congressional representative of the state of Hidalgo, the members of the commission have unanimously voted in favor of you, Nicolás Valdivia, currently serving as interior secretary, to assume the functions of the chief executive of the country, in the capacity of acting president.

The Congress of the Union, which I have convened in an extraordinary session in its faculty as electoral college, has unanimously ratified the aforementioned decision and, as such, you, don Nicolás Valdivia, are hereby invested as Acting President of the United Mexican States effective as of this date and until the date of the constitutional change of powers on the first day of December of the year 2024.

I would like to extend my congratulations to you, as well as my invitation to assume your position in a solemn ceremony on the fifth day of May of this year at five in the afternoon. I would also like to take the opportunity, Mr. President, to offer the assurance of my highest esteem and my best wishes for the success of the appointment that the nation has bestowed upon you.

Onésimo Canabal
PRESIDENT, HONORABLE CONGRESS OF THE UNION