The Eagle's Throne Read Online Free PDF

as “Operation Cucaracha.” And as you know, Mr. President, according to the ditty, the cockroach can only walk if it’s got something to smoke—marijuana, weed, Fu Manchu chocolate. . . . “20/20” is the term gringos use to describe normal clarity of vision at twenty feet. But the thing that really separates our two countries is a border 1,200 miles long. Draw your own conclusions, Mr. President. And think about how long we’ll be able to pacify the Japanese investors at Coahuila—although, of course, it’s been said they have their own secret methods of making themselves understood.

7
    MARÍA DEL ROSARIO GALVÁN TO NICOLÁS VALDIVIA
    Did our date the night before last upset you? Did you feel humiliated by the way I turned you into a voyeur? Don’t lose your patience or your temper. Show a bit more tenderness, my darling, more fairness, more sympathy for your poor friend. I did have a life before we met, you know. And you, my good Nicolás, would like to think, as in that old song, “that the past doesn’t exist and that we were born the instant we met.” That’s not how it is, I’m afraid. I’m older than you. And if you’re going to reproach me for the life I lived before we met, you expose yourself to a number of things. First, various surprises. Some very unpleasant. Some a bit more palatable. Second, you’re going to burn with jealousy of all the men who were once my lovers. And third, you’re going to grow impatient with the time frame I have in mind for you and me.
    “Why them and not me?”
    Of the three possibilities, only the second one appeals to me. Women—and I’m no exception—adore being the object of jealousy. It fans the flames of passion. Fires up the long cold wait. And ensures the most glorious erotic culmination. But let me get to the point. You’ll see. Now I’ll be a voyeur with you. We’re going to sit down together here in my living room, side by side, and we are going to examine and discuss my version of last night’s presidential address. I got someone to film the event, with an emphasis not so much on the president and what he said but rather on the faces of the people in the audience, so that you can get to know the politicians that govern us.
    First let me quickly dispose of the president of Congress, who responded to the address. His name is Onésimo Canabal and he is minor in every way: past, present, future, physical size, political stature, and moral fiber. He’s one among thousands, but today he feels himself unique. How will he ever learn the truth? Nobody will ever tell him. He’d have to hit himself over the head to find out how stupid he is. But then, most idiots go to their graves without ever knowing what imbeciles they are.
    Let’s move on to the cabinet, sitting in the front row of the congressional chamber.
    The interior secretary, Bernal Herrera, is my friend and confidant. He has experience and solid common sense. He’s aware that order has its limits, but that disorder is boundless. His political balancing act consists of avoiding endemic disorder and the extreme evils that feed it: hunger, demoralization, public mistrust. Herrera knows that chaos provokes irrational actions and facilitates political adventures, which eventually prove to be misadventures. Bitterness opens many wounds, and gives them little time to heal. Herrera, then, is a man who promotes three kinds of laws: laws that can be enforced, laws that will never be enforced, and laws that give people hope, whether they are enforceable or not, whether they are more for the future than for today. He is our best government minister and politician.
    The foreign affairs secretary, Patricio Palafox, sitting next to Herrera, is another experienced man, idealistic but pragmatic. He understands that we happen to live next door to the single great superpower in the world, and that we may be able to choose our friends but we can’t choose our neighbors (just as we can’t choose our relatives,