MEXICAN DRUG CARTELS MAKING AUDACIOUS PITCH FOR RECRUITS

Banners Taunt Military With Appeals to Soldiers and Deserters

NUEVO LAREDO, Mexico -- The job offer was tempting.

It was printed on a 16-foot-wide banner and strung above one of the
busiest roads here, calling out to any "soldier or ex-soldier."

"We're offering you a good salary, food and medical care for your
families," it said in block letters.

But there was a catch: The employer was Los Zetas, a notorious Gulf
cartel hit squad formed by elite Mexican army deserters. The group
even included a phone number for job seekers that linked to a voice mailbox.

Outrageous as they seem, drug cartel messages such as the banner hung
here late last month are becoming increasingly common along the
violence-savaged U.S.-Mexico border and in other parts of the region.
As soldiers wage a massive campaign against drug trafficking across
Mexico, they are encountering an information war managed by criminal
networks that operate with near impunity.

The cartels' appeals -- which authorities generally believe to be
authentic recruitment efforts -- seem designed in part to taunt a
military plagued by at least 100,000 desertions in the past eight years.

Even though the drug war has traumatized Mexicans, cartels still use
bravado and a dash of humor to gain supporters. The Nuevo Laredo
banner, for instance, promised that the cartels would not feed new
recruits instant noodle soup, an allusion to the cheap and frequently
mocked meals that many poor soldiers are forced to eat and that the
government often provides to stranded migrants.

A similar sign in the Gulf of Mexico city of Tampico promised "loans
and life insurance."

"What else could you want?" it read. The banner closed with a boast:
"The state of Tamaulipas, Mexico, the United States and the world --
territory of the Gulf cartel."

"The cartels are very good at this -- they've had songs written about
them, they put up these signs, they make themselves out to be Robin
Hoods," Carlos Martinez, a Nuevo Laredo elementary school principal
and community activist, said in an interview. "People like this. We
Mexicans like a good joke -- we like to make fun of our problems."

The banners also appeal to many poorer Mexicans who respect the
brashness of the cartels, which provide food, clothing and toys to
win civilians' loyalty.

Marcelino, a 74-year-old pensioner who did not provide his last name
for fear of retribution, said that he had been wronged plenty of
times by police but that drug traffickers had given him a sturdy
mountain bike. When the subject of the cartel's banner here came up,
he laughed until he broke down in a coughing fit.

"We are all Zetas. No doubt about it, we are all Zetas," he said.

Marcelino said police had harassed his neighbors, trumping up phony
criminal violations and extracting bribes to avoid incarceration.
Previous local governments tried to throw him and other squatters off
government land. Drug traffickers, however, sided with the squatters,
earning their enduring gratitude by paying to build cinder-block
shacks and distributing clothing.

"I trust the Zetas more than the thieving police and soldiers,"
Marcelino said. "The police are rats."

Cartels have long been known for showy displays designed to gain
public support, though their public campaigns have become more audacious.

Last week, clowns entertained 500 children and gave out presents at a
party in the city of Acuna, across the border from southeast Texas. A
banner said the party was sponsored by Osiel Cardenas Guillen, the
Gulf cartel kingpin who is now imprisoned on drug trafficking charges
in the United States.

"Your friend Osiel Cardenas Guillen wishes you a Happy Children's
Day," the banner read. "You are the future of Mexico."

For every cheeky public display, there are also darker messages,
including threats carved into the bodies of shooting victims. In
January, drug cartels are suspected of having left a banner with the
names of 17 "executable" police officials on a monument to fallen
officers in Ciudad Juarez, across the border from El Paso. In
typically macabre style, the banner was accompanied by funeral
flowers. Since then, at least nine of the men named on the banner
have been assassinated.

Nearly all the cartels' messages get big play in local media,
especially in small but well-read afternoon papers that specialize in
gory crime coverage. Mexican reporters and editors say they are often
contacted by local drug chieftains who demand that photographs of
cartel banners and victims be displayed prominently. The threats
carry weight -- Mexico trails only Iraq in journalist deaths.

Faced with a blizzard of publicity about every cartel pronouncement,
some military officials fear they are losing the information war. A
top military official, speaking on the condition of anonymity because
he was not authorized to comment, said cartels have succeeded in
getting the public on their side in some places and in recruiting
soldiers to their ranks. The general said internal rules prevent the
army from using paid advertisements to counter the drug cartels'
public messages.

"Lamentably, it's human nature for some of our men to fall to the
temptations of money," the general said.

At the same time, the cartels have seized on human rights allegations
against the military to win the hearts of some residents, the general
said. Cartels prize the allegiance of residents because they can
provide hiding places during crackdowns or refuse to cooperate with
authorities investigating trafficking networks.

Mexican soldiers are prime targets for the recruitment efforts by cartels.

In an interview, former Gen. Jose Francisco Gallardo said that some
soldiers don't initially intend to join criminal groups after
deserting, but that once they leave the military, they find it almost
impossible to get legitimate employment without revealing their
status as deserters. That makes them easy targets for job offers --
both the splashy sort that appeared in Nuevo Laredo and quieter
entreaties -- presented by drug lords, Gallardo said.

"This is one of the main origins of insecurity in our country,"
Gallardo said. "These soldiers are lost -- fugitives in their own
country -- and they're angry."

Once they join drug gangs, the deserters seem "cool" to many people,
according to Martinez, the Nuevo Laredo school principal and
activist. Children in his neighborhood see banners advertising jobs
in drug gangs and connect those images with the suddenly prosperous
deserters, and other cartel recruits, they meet on the streets. With
few opportunities for employment in Mexico's weak economy, the
prospect of joining a gang is appealing, he said.

"They see these guys driving around in new pickup trucks and wearing
nice clothes, and they're impressed," Martinez said.

A few days after the cartel recruitment banner appeared in Nuevo
Laredo, Martinez said, he came across a group of 8-year-olds talking
- -- as 8-year-olds are wont to do -- about what they wanted to be when
they grew up.

One little boy stood up, Martinez said, and proudly announced his
hope: "I want to be a Zeta."