Trouble After an Earlier Disaster

By George Russell

As Colombia staggered under the impact of Nevado del Ruiz's devastating eruption last week, Mexico was still recovering from its own recent natural calamity. The scars of that disaster were barely evident along Mexico City's elegant Paseo de la Reforma as crowds thronged its tiled, tree-lined sidewalks. Piles of rubble from the country's Sept. 19 earthquake, which killed some 20,000 people and shattered the lives of tens of thousands more, had been bulldozed from the bustling avenue that borders the Zona Rosa, the luxury shopping and sightseeing district. Something akin to normalcy seemed to have returned to the world's biggest megalopolis (pop. about 18 million).

But less than two miles away, where the broad Paseo sweeps into Mexico City's dingy eastern suburbs, the vista was not as comforting. In small parks along the thoroughfare, about 200 drab green tents were pitched together against the early winter chill. The dwellings sheltered only a fraction of those left homeless by the quake, a total of 50,000 by government estimates, or as many as 150,000 by unofficial counts. There are no sanitary facilities in the encampment; periodically, municipal trucks distribute small plastic bags of potable water. Along with a few donated blankets, that is all the relief aid that the tent dwellers have seen. Says Julieta Lopez Uribe, 63, a camp resident: "The government has forgotten about us."

That accusation is heard frequently in Mexico City these days, and not only from earthquake victims. The complaints seem symptomatic of a growing crisis of confidence that is haunting the three-year-old government of President Miguel de la Madrid Hurtado. Bureaucratic sclerosis and political insensitivity have laid his administration open to charges that it is not doing enough to overcome the country's worst urban disaster in decades. In the past two months, an estimated $1 billion to $2 billion has left the country, mostly for the U.S., and the value of Mexico's peso has dropped from 350 to 500 to the dollar.

De la Madrid appears to have contributed to the crisis, if only by inaction. Although the quiet, Harvard-educated technocrat made a flurry of public appearances just after the earthquake, his visits to disaster areas have tapered off, adding to the image of government aloofness. The absence of strong crisis management has led to a feeling that De la Madrid's government is adrift. Says a Western diplomat in Mexico City: "The government seems to be gripped by inertia."

Much of the disenchantment stems from bitterness at the pace of the recovery program. Inevitably, there have been charges that relief money has been misappropriated. The government, however, claims that the relief effort so far has been a success. Presidential Spokesman Manuel Alonso predicts that the needs of all those left homeless by the quake will be met "by March at the latest."

In fact, international relief funds sent to Mexico after the disaster appear to have been well administered. U.S. officials report that some $4.7 million in assistance from Washington has been accounted for, although one Western diplomat claims that some privately donated material seems to have disappeared "into the void." Nonetheless, Janet Rogozinski, the American coordinator for $20 million to $30 million in private U.S. disaster aid to Mexico, says that the money is "going where it's supposed to."

Still, some of the government's actions have left it open to charges of inefficiency and insensitivity. Three weeks after the earthquake, for example, De la Madrid established a national reconstruction commission to coordinate relief efforts. Hundreds of businessmen, intellectuals and opposition politicians were invited to attend the commission's inaugural session. Since then they have heard nothing.

Businessmen complain that the government has monopolized Mexico's domestic relief effort through a state-controlled reconstruction fund. Some $71.3 million has been given by local and international donors, but there has been no public accounting of relief disbursements. Says a Mexican chemical manufacturer: "The private sector wanted to set up its own fund, but the government was afraid that Mexicans would perceive other sectors as being more effective."

And with good reason. The government's most loudly publicized relief effort has been a public relations disaster. Officials announced last month that the government would expropriate for housing reconstruction 618 acres of high-density Mexico City real estate that had been damaged in the quake. The $50 million plan envisioned spreading payments for the properties over ten years at prices well below market value. A general outcry arose when it was discovered that among the expropriated properties were undamaged single-family dwellings that should never have been included in the scheme. Several civic officials were fired as a result of the gaffe.

The urgent need to deal with the aftermath of the quake has only complicated Mexico's other severe economic problems. After three years of austerity, De la Madrid's government has failed to conquer a government-spending deficit that last year totaled 7.4% of gross domestic product. Inflation during the same period reached 60%. Under an agreement with the Washington-based International Monetary Fund, the government this year had promised to try to reduce inflation to 35%, but economists now believe that the rate may again rise to the 1984 level. Meanwhile, the purchasing power of Mexican workers has reached its lowest level in twelve years. As a U.S. official in Washington puts it, De la Madrid's "economic game plan is not working." In the next breath, the official adds that the Mexican President is "doing his best." The worry these days in Mexico City is that both statements may be equally true. --By George Russell. Reported by Ricardo Chavira and Andrea Dabrowski/Mexico City

With reporting by Reported by Ricardo Chavira, Andrea Dabrowski/Mexico City