Ferrante was sitting up straight. More than $90 billion in Mexican imports passed through Texas every year. A lesser amount, an estimated $60 to $70 billion, passed through Texas on the way to Mexico. In addition, Mexicans in the United States legally and illegally sent home hundreds of millions of dollars a year — for some families, it marked the difference between poverty and starvation.
Jack Hays lowered the boom. “It is very unfortunate, but for the moment we have no choice but to shut down all financial transactions transferring money into, out of, or through the new nation of Texas.”
Ferrante protested. Hays cut him off. “I know this will be a severe hardship to people south of the border. It will be an even greater hardship to Texans as we sever our commercial and financial relationships with the people and businesses of the other forty-nine American states. I wouldn’t even suggest such a course were it not absolutely necessary.”
The Mexican consul tugged thoughtfully at his lip. “May I smoke?” he asked.
“Of course,” Hays said, and produced an ashtray from a desk drawer.
When Ferrante had a cigarette alight, Hays continued. “Since we cannot guarantee anyone’s safety, we’re asking Mexican nationals to leave Texas as soon as possible, and I’m asking you to let Texans in Mexico return to Texas.”
“What about the citizens of other American states?”
“If they cannot prove Texas residency, they will be refused entry.”
Ferrante was shocked. He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then said, “Factories producing goods for export are the economic bedrock of the Mexican economy. Shutting them down for any significant period, more than a weekend, gives the drug cartels more recruits. People must feed their families.”
“Mexico is in a hell of a hole,” the Texan acknowledged, “that you folks dug for yourselves. Mexico has dumped its problems on us for a great many years.”
“Mexico is a democracy,” the Mexican diplomat shot back, “and elected politicians cannot ignore the will of our proud, poor people. It is in Texas’ best interest that Mexico remain a democracy governed by the rule of law. A fascist dictatorship on your southern border will create many more problems in Texas than it will solve. You have a phrase: don’t throw us under the bus. While you and your government are making policy, do not forget that the United States is the world’s largest, richest market for recreational drugs of all kinds. Your ‘War on Drugs’ has been an abject failure. We are in the unfortunate position of being next-door neighbors to this hedonistic hell of addicts and abusers with too much money and not a shred of honor.”
“I know, and I agree that a great many federal programs, including the ‘War on Drugs’ and the ‘War on Poverty,’ to name just two, were ill-conceived or abject failures,” Jack Hays replied. “But we’re going to change that. The Republic of Texas is no longer going to be a pawn for feckless politicians in Washington who play to the mobs elsewhere and ignore the real problems we face here. We hope to be a better neighbor to the Republic of Mexico, but both our nations need to get our houses in order.”
“When will Texas cease to isolate itself and resume free trade with my country?”
Jack Hays engaged in a diplomatic lie. He planned on using trade as a weapon to force the Mexicans to stop illegal immigration, or at least to choke it down on their side of the border, and to crack down on the drug cartels and corrupt officials. He thought Mexico needed to clean the sty with a fire hose. Without Mexican help, the problems of the border would never be solved. Trade was the only issue that would force Mexico to change, Hays thought. At least he hoped it would, because it was the only big lever he had. He didn’t voice this opinion, however, but said, “As soon as our position with the other American states stabilizes. I cannot foretell the future. A week, a month, a year…”
“Would Texas consider lifting this trade embargo if Mexico recognizes the new Republic of Texas?”
“That would certainly help,” Jack Hays said warmly. “In fact, it would be a precondition.”
The governor’s answer committed him to nothing, a fact that did not escape the consul, who merely said, “Our conversation will be passed along to my government, of course. When I receive their instructions, I will call you to arrange an appointment to discuss matters.”
Hays stood, signifying the interview was over. He escorted Ferrante out of the office and reception area, which was packed with people all wanting a few minutes of his time.
One of the people was Charlie Swim.
Swim was an ally that Jack Hays absolutely had to have, so he lightly grasped his elbow, escorted him into the office, and closed the door.
“Sit down, Charlie, please.”
Charlie Swim did so and took a folded sheet of paper from an inside pocket of his jacket. “Governor, we’ve got a marvelous opportunity to finally do something positive for poor people in Texas.” He tapped the paper and then passed it across the desk.
As the governor scanned it, Swim explained. “Liberal progressive policies for the last fifty years or so have devastated the poor people of America. Welfare; aid to dependent families; food stamps; essentially free medical care; schools that try to prepare everyone for a four-year college degree, when only a fraction of the poor people will ever want or get one; lack of technical training; the breakdown of the black family — all those things have led us to where we are.
“When Lyndon Johnson was lobbying Congress to pass his Great Society programs, he reportedly said, ‘If we pass this the niggers will all vote Democratic for the next two centuries.’ I don’t know if he said that, but that has been the consequence. People do whatever it takes to get free money, because without an education and job opportunity they can’t make it in America. We have to change that or we won’t want to live in the poor socialist empire that will result.”
Jack Hays sighed and pointed out, “Luwanda Harris and her Democratic allies will be outraged, accuse you and me of abandoning the poor people to exploitation and starvation, or worse.”
“I know that. Medicine often tastes bad, but until we fix the government policies that breed poverty, we have condemned the poor, black, white, and brown to a life of economic slavery. Goddamn, Jack, a hundred fifty years after Lincoln and the Union Army freed the slaves, we’re still enslaved! Enslaved to the government! If there is to be a new life, a better life, for the poor people of Texas it has to start here and now. We can’t waste another hour.”
Jack Hays read the note, which was Swim’s political wish list, a libertarian charter for abolishing everything from public employee unions to welfare to the minimum wage.
“Why do you want to repeal the minimum wage?” Jack Hays asked.
“Without trade and technical training our supply of unskilled workers is limitless,” Charlie Swim explained. “We are awash in illegals. Every economist I have talked to tells me that the minimum wage really means that unskilled labor cannot be hired and trained unless they can immediately contribute to their employer the minimum wage and the value of their benefits, plus an amount sufficient to pay for supervision and the expenses of doing the paperwork they require, such as payroll, deductions, and the rest of it. All that, plus a profit. The higher the minimum wage, the greater economic incentive for employers to automate or move jobs out of the country. We are never going to get wages up unless we let the free market determine the value of labor. Stopping the flow of illegals into Texas and getting some of them to leave will help. But as long as our schools turn out nothing but an endless supply of hamburger flippers and nail techs, industry goes begging for skilled labor and the free market can’t work.”