Carlos Fuentes - The Eagle's Throne

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Here is a true literary event — the long-awaited new novel by Carlos Fuentes, one of the world’s great writers. By turns a tragedy and a farce, an acidic black comedy and an indictment of modern politics, The Eagle’s Throne is a seriously entertaining and perceptive story of international intrigue, sexual deception, naked ambition, and treacherous betrayal.
In the near future, at a meeting of the United Nations Security Council, Mexico’s idealistic president has dared to vote against the U.S. occupation of Colombia and Washington’s refusal to pay OPEC prices for oil. Retaliation is swift. Concocting a “glitch” in a Florida satellite, America’s president cuts Mexico’s communications systems — no phones, faxes, or e-mails — and plunges the country into an administrative nightmare of colossal proportions.
Now, despite the motto that “a Mexican politician never puts anything in writing,” people have no choice but to communicate through letters, which Fuentes crafts with a keen understanding of man’s motives and desires. As the blizzard of activity grows more and more complex, political adversaries come out to prey. The ineffectual president, his scheming cabinet secretary, a thuggish and ruthless police chief, and an unscrupulous, sensual kingmaker are just a few of the fascinating characters maneuvering and jockeying for position to achieve the power they all so desperately crave.

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You will allow me a little joke every now and then, Congressman, won’t you? You who treat me like a nun. . I’m being serious again now. You tell me if Roque Maldonado in San Luis Potosí is unhappy about the fact that he deals directly with his Japanese investors; closes deals in El Gargaleote, that mysterious Potosí refuge that once belonged to the legendary strongman Gonzalo N. Santos; and possesses a fortune that the hardworking revolutionary Santos could never have dreamed of, since Maldonado takes a hefty commission with no interference from central government.

You tell me if the capo di tutti capi Silvestre Pardo wants some meddlesome government making waves in his Narcomex empire. Need I say more? There isn’t one governor, local boss, or drug trafficker who wants a military government with Cícero Arruza at the top, making off with the lion’s share when it comes to so-called profit distribution. Our general is either blind, crazy, or a complete imbecile. His calculations have failed him miserably. He’s going to find himself all alone in this coup.

Now do you see why it’s important for the government to know, and why the little heartthrob Jesús Ricardo Magón, with his irresistible angel face, should be the emissary?

I laugh, Onésimo, but look at me. The only one who escapes us is the sly, ambitious strongman of Tabasco, Humberto Vidales, “Dark Hand.” He’s always had his eye on the Eagle’s Throne, but since it’s always been just beyond his grasp (to be a soap opera villain, you have to know how to be discreet; you can’t go around curling your mouth, raising your eyebrows, and sniffing, wearing Cruz Diablo’s cape). He’s convinced that sooner or later one of his Nine Evil Sons, as he so lovingly refers to them, will sit on the throne and reclaim his God-given right — or so he thinks — to the presidency.

As for the candidate we’re supporting, Onésimo, let’s keep telling him to stay calm and that the only thing he needs to worry about (just a bit) is that sinister man from Tabasco. As far as the other local bosses are concerned, if we keep out of their affairs, they’ll go along with what we want — which is to not rock the boat and to leave their businesses intact.

And who are we, my distinguished friend? What do we want? What we want is to be the decisive factor in the presidential succession of 2024. Do a head count, Onésimo. Contrary to what one might believe, Arruza is irrelevant for the reasons I’ve already explained, the best possible outcome of the mission you saw fit to entrust me with.

César León has no immediate chance of re-election. That would mean changing the constitution and God knows how long that could take. Anyway, you and I can make sure things are prolonged indefinitely.

Listen: Congress has three missions. One, to pass laws. Two, to prevent laws from being passed. But the most important mission is to make sure that issues get delayed indefinitely, that nothing ever gets resolved, that the agenda remains full of unfinished business. . If not, my dear friend, what are you and I doing here? What’s the point of this operation if we don’t use our ability to put everything off for as long as we can?

“Be careful,” you said, “you don’t want to end up the founding member of the Ides of March Society.”

How well-educated you turned out to be, Onésimo. No wonder you were agriculture secretary under César León. You and I should found the Greek Calends Society. .

Let me continue. Andino Almazán, very simply, doesn’t pass muster with the people. Apart from López Portillo, no treasury secretary has ever become president. He really is the villain in this little soap opera, spending six years saying no to everyone who asks him for money. It seems his profession is to be hated, and what the voters want is to love, even if only for a little while before disillusion sets in.

We are left, then, with two serious candidates. Bernal Herrera and Tácito de la Canal.

Don’t be alarmed if I say Tácito must be eliminated.

Nicolás Valdivia sent me, via young Magón, copies of the documents that prove Tácito’s criminal conduct in the MEXEN negotiations. How such a crafty operator allowed an archivist to file such incriminating papers, I have no idea. Magón, who is the son of the archivist, says that his father never lets a single paper disappear. That may be true. But still, why did Tácito let the documents get to the archive instead of sending them straight to the paper shredder? The only thing that occurs to me is that perhaps this is part of the muddy terrain of pride associated with power — hubris, Onésimo (a word I’ve already explained to you twice and which I’m not going to explain again). Hubris was what made President Nixon, for instance, zealously save all the tapes that proved him to be a revolting criminal and that ultimately got him expelled from the White House. . At every level you’ll find them, Onésimo — governors who save videos of their murders, military commanders who have their shootings filmed, torturers who adore replaying their atrocities on-screen. . Is Tácito any different? I don’t think so. Nixon, to return to our best example, had an archive labeled “The White House Files,” which contained a full record of all his unethical deeds and crimes, but which was ready to be removed from the White House if he lost the election.

There’s definitely something fishy going on with Tácito. His signature is on the documents. But signatures are easily forged. What I’m asking myself now is this: Who handed those papers over to Cástulo Magón, the archivist? I don’t think it was de la Canal. If we can find out who said to him, “Don Cástulo, don’t forget to file this. .” then our mystery will be solved.

I repeat. Eliminate Tácito. María del Rosario has all the original documents and she’s already shared the secret with her darling Nicolás Valdivia, whom she’s pulled up to the top, and of course she’s also shared it with Bernal Herrera, her ex-lover and the other candidate for the Eagle’s Throne.

Nicolás Valdivia, I repeat, sent me (via young Magón) copies of the documents that prove Tácito’s criminal conduct in the MEXEN case. Again, how could such a sly dog have overlooked the fact that the archivist was holding on to such incriminating evidence? I can’t figure it out. But I now see why President Terán did everything he could to accelerate Tácito’s resignation.

And Herrera’s, too. Herrera emerges, then, as the favorite. Magón told me the president himself killed the story that Tácito had cooked up against María del Rosario and Herrera, making it very clear, in the process, that Herrera was his chosen one.

This is the best picture we have of things as they stand now. Very well, Onésimo, the real picture encompasses all these possibilities, with one small exception: The invisible issue here will not be the presidential candidate issue, as we’ve all been led to believe, but the issue of the acting president in the event of the resignation or absence of the president in office.

I can just see your face. Cover up your astonishment. And don’t think César León’s scheming or Cícero Arruza’s threats can prompt the president to resign. There’s something bigger going on here. Something very big. Young Magón told me that Valdivia told him that the president’s trusted adviser Seneca saw Terán in a state of acute physical debilitation.

How does Valdivia know this? Because Seneca told María del Rosario, whom he’s secretly in love with, and our little Eva Perón told her protégé Valdivia. There it is, Onésimo. Everyone’s spying on everyone else, stealing documents from one another, and maybe even spying on themselves when nobody’s looking. .

Which confirms the notion that in politics secrets are open and only the loudest voices tell secrets. Work out the mystery that’s there in what you know, Onésimo, and forget the secrets: They’re empty vessels. Distractions. Better to think — and think hard — about what you know.

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