by Ines Pohl
Every few meters there's a rusty steel post holding up lines of
barbed wire. From a distance you can scarcely make them out in the
sandy, hilly landscape, between the cacti and the desert grass. And
under the blazing sun you have to look closely to see all the places
where the barbed wire has been repaired. The glint of fresh metal gives
them away.
Jim Chilton is 77 years old, and has a bit of a belly.
It takes him less than a minute to crawl under the fence. With that he
has crossed the border between Mexico and the United States. He's hung
his pale cowboy hat on one of the steel posts, but the Colt stays in its
holster on his heavy leather belt - always close at hand.
Almost all are drug smugglers
Thousands
of people cross their land every year. No one knows the exact figure.
They leave behind tons of plastic rubbish. When cows eat it, they die a
painful death. The people cut through the fence, causing further losses
when the cows escape. "These days, one of my cowboys' main jobs is
fixing fences," says Jim.
Above all, fewer and fewer of those who cross the border are people
looking for work, hoping for a better life. Instead, they're drug
smugglers controlled by the Sinaloa Cartel, one of the most brutal criminal organizations in the world.
"Crossing
the border has gotten way too dangerous for ordinary people looking for
work," says Jim. He explains that they too are forced to carry drugs.
He shows photos of bushes with women's underwear hanging off them.
"Those are the trophies the criminals hang there after they've raped
their victim, sometimes for days." His steely blue eyes narrow to slits
as he says this. "It's wrong, what's happening here on my land, what's
happening here in America."
Fifth generation ranchers
He's
been farming his 20,000-hectare (50,000-acre) ranch, employing four
cowboys, since 1987. That's more than 28,000 football fields - a lot of
land, even by American standards. Some 800 hectares belong to him and
his wife, Sue; the rest is leased by the state. That's usual in this
Arizona border region. Jim owns a herd of just under 1,000 cows. A
former investment banker, with university degrees in politics and
business administration, he makes most of his money from the sale of
young cattle.
Jim was almost 50 when he decided to carry on the family tradition,
giving up his life in politics and banking. The Chiltons have been
ranchers for five generations. His ancestors drove the first herds
through Arizona in 1888. One of the main reasons why they chose this
farm, 110 kilometers (68 miles) southwest of Tucson, was that there are a
lot of springs on the land. "Water's the most important thing in
raising cattle," he says. Thirty years ago the fact that the Mexican
border was only 16 kilometers from his ranch, and his land ran right
along the border for eight kilometers, wasn't a consideration for him.
Now, this proximity to the international border determines his whole
life...
Many neighbors have given up
He and his neighbors have been fighting for years for proper border patrols: "Long before Donald Trump talked about a wall, we
were calling for one." More and more of his neighbors have given up -
they don't believe anything's going to change. They don't believe that
proper roads will finally be built along the border or that there will
be manned posts near the border so it doesn't take three or four hours
for police to get there when they're called or when the surveillance
cameras show long lines of men carrying heavy packs and armed with
AK-47s snaking their way across the terrain. Friends have sold their
farms for half their worth, happy to have found anyone at all to take
them. Usually it's the government that buys them, because no private
individual wants to take the risk.
Taking on the drug mafia can
have fatal consequences. Two families they're friends with have
experienced this: Rob Krentz and Larry Link were shot after reporting
stashes of drugs they found. Jim says that to be on the safe side, he
himself left his ranch for a while after he stumbled across a group of
drug smugglers and reported the goods they left behind. "I've never had
to use my weapons, but I know why I always carry at least one gun."
No help from Washington
It's hard to get an overview of things around here; the many canyons
offer excellent cover for the smugglers with their heavy rucksacks,
weighing up to 30 kilos (66 pounds) and full of marijuana, cocaine or
heroin. In addition, Jim explains, the cartel has set up sentries
everywhere, and they have top-of-the-range equipment. They guard the
area, and warn the smugglers. Once, he says, he came across one of these
scouts, who dropped his radio telephone as he ran away. "It was worth
more than $2,500. They're better equipped than our border patrol
guards."
The Sinaloa Cartel has assumed complete control of the
land. "When I'm out here, I feel as if I'm in an occupied country," says
Jim. He stares down at his feet in their hand-stitched cowboy boots.
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