by Mark Thomas
Charles Dickens would have loved the Metro, all forms of urchin life are here. The carriages are packed but somehow the tide of hawkers runs a path around the cramped bodies: men selling peanuts, women waving packs of Chiclets chewing gum, a line of blind beggars and a woman selling Superglue. Who would have thought that there was a commuting market for Superglue? But here there must be.
My favourites are the home-made CD compilation sellers, playing their tracks on a portable player wired into a loudspeaker strapped to their chests- they look like jihadist DJs. One minute the carriage is filled with the sounds of salsa, the next it is dance music; one man’s CD was so good I nearly missed the ‘two snakes wrapped around a sword’ and only just made it through the doors in time. On the platform the station’s own speakers forlornly played ‘I’d rather be a hammer than a nail’ on pan pipes.
While feeling a tad despondent that no one had called me with Raquel Chavez’s phone number, something rather remarkable happened. I got a source. Someone from inside Coke, willing to talk on condition of anonymity and this time there really was good reason not to name this person. Woodward and Bernstein had ‘Deep throat’; I have ‘Coke Throat’.
What can I tell you about Coke Throat? Well, essentially not a huge amount except that I was passed a piece of paper with a phone number and a time to dial it. I waited and dialled. A voice answered and asked me ‘Are you having a good time in Mexico Mr Thomas?’
I said, ‘Getting a stranger’s phone number is often the way a good time starts.’
Coke Throat laughed but only just.
‘I think you might want to talk to me.’
And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Coke Throat sung loud and long. So did Nana Mouskouri. But this stuff wasn’t Greek to me.
Coke Throat knew all about the big trouble with Big Cola and was keen to tell me how it started. Instead of using sales staff, distribution warehouses and a fleet of delivery trucks, Big Cola opted for a more innovative distribution method and caught Coke on the hop. The Peruvians simply said anyone who has a truck or even a car can come to the warehouse, pick up crates of drink and go and sell it on commission to the ‘Mom and Pop’ stores. These 700,000 ‘Mom and Pop’ stores account for 80 per cent of soft drink sales in Mexico, so Big Cola were able to simply bypass the normal practice of setting up a sales force and delivery system and still get their product into the market. According to Coke Throat, the sudden arrival of Big Cola in these stores, ‘gave them a huge massive presence that Coke never expected so that, combined with the nice pricing they have, almost 40-50 per cent cheaper than us, was why a lot of low-income consumers switched their preference to Big Cola and it started to hit us…we underestimated that product and it came and hit us in the face.’
Mexico offers soft drinks companies an extremely lucrative profit margin and with so much money at stake Coca-Cola decided something had to be done. ‘The idea was to start blocking them at the point of sale,’ Coke Throat explained.
‘It was like that at the very beginning.’ Coke assembled its sales force with the simple tactic. ‘The name of the game is availability, if Big Cola was available, Big Cola has a winning formula that can sell. So the idea was to remove them, and if you are a salesman and if you have a hundred stores you should not have more than five stores selling Big Cola [in your area]. That was the benchmark.’
The operation against Big Cola even had its own name, ‘The ABC plan - Anti Big Cola plan.’ Local comedians were hired to appear in training videos for the sales forces, ‘training them how to remove Big Cola from the point of sales and the consequence of not doing that. So less income, less job security and not having their nice house in at retirement.’
Coke’s assault was a well-coordinated strike at the ‘Mom and Pop shops’ that stocked Big Cola, Coke Throat called it ‘the red wave’ and they used a variety of tactics.
‘There was the direct change of Big Cola products for Coca-Cola products.’
‘You take Big Cola out of the shop physically?’ I enquire.
‘Physically, yes.’
‘You swap it bottle for bottle…’
‘Bottle for bottle…I’m the salesman I see this Big Cola bottle I switch it for a Coke and throw the other to the garbage or throw it in the street so the shop doesn’t sell it now.’ In some cases the sales force would empty Big Cola down the drains in front of the shop.
‘But why would a shop swap?’
‘You offer two for one.
Coke Throat goes on to describe how the sales force would issue a ‘direct order to remove Big Cola from any Coca-Cola cooler in the shop. [They would tell the store owner] that they would be losing the cooler if they have one Big Cola available either in the cooler or even in the store.’
Just to be clear I go over it again, ‘So you would say to them if you have Big Cola in the fridge here, it’s a Coca-Cola fridge, get the Big Cola out or I’m taking the fridge.’
‘Exactly, or get Big Cola out of the store or I won’t supply you with Coca-Cola.’
It all sounds slightly Al Capone with carbonation, going round to stores and intimidating or cajoling shopkeepers to get rid of Big Cola and I say, ‘That’s almost like Mafia tactics isn’t it? ‘
Coke Throat affords a smile, ‘Well, let’s just call it protecting my market share.’
The big question is who sanctioned this?
‘Very clear, from top to bottom, it was a well-organised army going into war.’
‘So was this the Mexican bottlers…’ I begin.
‘It was Coca-Cola who coordinated it with bottlers, [we’re] the brain power and the mastermind behind everything…we bring a lot of practices from other countries, we put them on the table and we find strategy with local knowledge, that might be the bottlers, we define it and then we go to war.’
‘We wanted to get out of this saying to people “we do not sell Coca-Cola and we didn’t do anything, we just sell concentrate” but the reality - and that’s why the competition commission brought us down - was that we have the brainpower and are the money behind everything and we are the ones that make everything work in a synchronised way.’ The FCC investigation visited various shops to examine the claims against Coca-Cola and found that Big Cola was either not available or was placed way at the back of the shop, away from the Coca-Cola fridges at the front, in 500 instances that they examined. The ‘red wave’ had struck across Mexico.
On 4 July 2005 the CFC fined the ‘Coca-Cola system’ $157 million pesos (approx USD$13 million) for monopolistic practices, as Coke’s conduct contravened Article 10 Part IV of the Federal Law of Economic Competition. The fine was levelled at the bottlers and distributors FEMSA, Contal, Grupo Peninsular, Grupo Fomento Queretano as well as The Coca-Cola Export Company (Mexico) which is a subsiduary of The Coca-Cola Company. They were also ordered to immediately stop putting conditions on the sale of Coke products. The decision was appealed by Coke. But on 17 November 2005, the CFC ruled upheld the earlier decision and threw Coke’s appeal out.11
As for Raquel Chavez the search was not going well, the six degrees of separation theory - that we are all but six phone calls away from the person we need to reach, the very theory that had worked its bizarre charm in Turkey - was failing to find her. True, it had turned up some interesting and charming folk along the way, including a former guerilla, a workers co-op and someone who knew someone who knew someone that could summon up the ghost of Leon Trotsky, but no Raquel Chavez. Not even an address for her shop. I trawled the internet looking for clues and found a couple of pictures of her from when she won the case. She was forty-nine in 2005 and photographed sitting in her small shop amidst its grilles and crates. She had black shoulder-length hair and a flowery top - that was all I could make out.
The part of town she lived in was called Itzapalapa and it quickly developed the status of a desolate moor, as every time I mentioned the place in the presence of a Mexican - be it a receptionist at a hotel or local fo
lk I was meeting up with - they would pause significantly, adopt a Cornish accent and say, ‘You don’t want to go up there sir, not on a night like tonight.’
‘Why?’ I would ask.
‘Why sir, the last tourist that went up there by ’em self never came back…though they do say on a dark moonless night you can hear the pages of a Rough Guide book a’rustlin’ in the breeze.’
I was beginning to think somehow I missed the boat. Everyone I asked seemed to know someone who might know how to get to her but then never did. And time simply ran out. Or it nearly did. A telephone number was found at the last minute and although I didn’t get to see her I did finally speak to Raquel Chavez over the phone.
She does indeed live in Itzapalapa and it is indeed a tad… er…Moss Side. Some have called it impoverished, others worse but Raquel says ‘We are a working-class area. This is a difficult area,’ then adds, ‘ as everywhere is.’
‘I wanted to meet you personally but I have only just got your phone number,’ I explain, ‘ all the numbers I had for you were dead.’
‘I had to change all the telephone numbers. After I won the case against Coca-Cola people thought I had won thirteen million dollars. But the fines go to the judicial system I had not won any money. So people phoned. I got death threats, I got blackmail attempts, people phoned up just wanting me to give them money. But what could I do with all these people threatening me? I had to make ends meet I still have to go to work - I just had to change the phones.’
Then she told me her story. Raquel wanted what many working-class parents want: for her children to have a better life than her own. ‘My biggest dream was to give them a professional career and get them to go to university. I was in a economic bind, so I started the shop and I started with all my energy and enthusiasm in 1992.’ It was on the corner of mall but it was a ‘Mom and Pop shop’.
Then in 2002 her Coke salesman came by and politely asked ‘Why don’t you swap your Big Cola bottles for Coca-Cola? I will give you two bottles of Coke for every one bottle of Big Cola you give me.’
Recounting the moment to me she explained, ‘If I accepted they would give me the Coca-Cola and would take away the Big Cola but the condition was that I could not sell Big Cola any more.’
‘What did you say to the Coke salesman?’
‘I said “No. My shop is free. Even if it is only one customer who wants Big Cola I have to offer him the best service.” He were very upset and annoyed.’
The Coke salesman had obviously seen one of the training videos that Coke Throat described, as Raquel’s initial refusal didn’t deter him. But Raquel kept saying no.
One day the salesman came into her shop and started again, ‘Mrs Chavez, come on, I will give you two bottles of Coca-Cola for every bottle of Big Cola you give to me.’
‘No,’ said Raquel ‘ Not even if it is ten bottles of Coke to one of Big Cola will I do it.’ And the salesman left.
A little later he came round again, this time arrogant and cocky, ‘OK,’ he said ‘We will give you ten for one - I will give you ten bottles of Coca-Cola for one for Big Cola.’ I suspect he even afforded himself a little knowing smile. He simply did not expect Raquel to say ‘No. I won’t let you buy me.’
So it began. At first they refused to give her any promotional presents or offers; the other shops had them, but not hers. Then they wanted to only allow Coke products in the Coke fridge in the shop. She said to the salesman, ‘You can take your fridge away. I can buy one myself.’
The Bank Holiday in March is a big day and lot of drinks get sold. So Raquel placed her orders with ‘Pre-sales - there is a person who comes round the day before and asks what we need and the following day the truck comes and brings the drinks. But they didn’t bring any to my shop. They left me during that important Bank Holiday without a bottle.’
The following day when the truck came around she rushed out and gave them a new order on a handwritten note.
‘Why didn’t you deliver my order?’ She said and started back to her shop.
The manager came after her holding her order in his hand and waving it in the air.
‘Are you going to bring my order now then?’
But he kept waving the paper in the air. Smirking.
‘You are not allowed any of our products any more,’ He said.
‘What? Why not?’ She said, dumbfounded.
‘Because you don’t support us and because you won’t stop selling Big Cola.’
‘This is unconstitutional!’ said Raquel, not knowing if it was or it wasn’t.
‘No,’ he said, ‘Coca-Cola does what they want…You can do whatever you want. Coca-Cola has too many lawyers and too much money. No one can touch them.’ He waved her order in the air, ‘If you want this you know what to do.’
‘No, thank you,’ she replied.
And with that they stopped bringing the products for good.
The trouble is people drink a lot of Coca-Cola in Mexico and if the shop doesn’t have it then that shop loses a lot of custom.
‘People are too used to buying Coke so people stopped coming to my shop and I didn’t see them any more. I was completely alone. I had to start to work long hours into the evening and try to recover what I hadn’t sold during the day. I lost a lot of money, I think I lost 50 per cent of my income at that time. Fridays and Saturdays I shut the shop at 2am,’ she sighs. ‘Too many hours for too little profit. Even my husband was upset with me.’
‘How dare you do that against them,’ he had said. ‘You know they are very powerful, they will ruin us.’
On one rare day when she was away from the shop she asked her husband to mind it and on that day the Big Cola salesman came around. Her husband promptly cancelled the Big Cola orders. They did not stay cancelled for long. Raquel returned to her shop, and just as promptly reordered the Big Cola. Her husband simply didn’t understand, he kept asking, ‘What is it you want? What is it you want?’
Finally Raquel went to Federal Competition Commission to denounce Coca-Cola and ask them to investigate. ‘I asked them “What can I do?”’
‘What can we do?’ they retorted.
‘You are the Federal Competition Commission!’
‘What can we do when no one will denounce them? When there are more people in the same situation I will talk to you.’
So Raquel went and found others.
Her husband became unhappier still. ‘He kept putting a lot of pressure on me because of The Coca-Cola case.’ But Raquel said to him, ‘I would prefer to close the shop, and go and wash clothes in other people’s houses in order for my children to have an education, but I won’t let Coca-Cola humiliate me. I will never let them humiliate me.’
And she didn’t. The FCC found The Coca-Cola Export Company, a direct subsidiary of The Coca-Cola Company in Atlanta, guilty along with the bottlers and fined them in November 2005. As Raquel said she gets no money as the fines go to the state. So why did she do it?
‘Although economically I didn’t win anything I wanted to have the pride of winning. My motivation was my pride… Raquel Chavez will always be a sour name for Coca-Cola and it will always be like that. I am very proud of myself.’
Recently a student came to visit Raquel and she lent him the papers from her case, showing the verdict in her favour. He was doing a new course on monopoly practices in business and wanted to study her case. There is a certain joy that a woman who fought so hard for her children to go on to higher education should finally have her story being taught at university.
13
BELCHING OUT THE DEVIL
San Cristóbal, Mexico
‘San Cristóbal is my Tara of Gone With the Wind. It’s a place I go back to. It’s the place where you get strength, where you get strong.’
Vicente Fox, Interview with Larry King Live, CNN, 8 October 2007
It was the city of San Cristóbal in the southern Mexican state of Chiapas that hosted the unlikely relaunch of the balaclava. Who would have thought a fashio
n comeback was ever on the cards? I for one thought its long association with peeping toms and the IRA had finished it off but it bounced right back into the limelight with Subcomandante Marcos of the Zapatistas when he boldly started to accessorise standard revolutionary army fatigues. Out went cigars and berets and in came balaclavasf and tobacco pipes. Through the power of the internet Subcomandante Marcos, the enigmatic spokesman and poster boy for the Zapatistas Army of National Liberation or EZLN (Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional), became a world-wide phenomena. The Zapatista 1994 uprising was primarily the indigenous Mayan people’s struggle against poverty and racism but they became synonymous with anti-globalisation and opposing neo-liberal economic changes. And for a while the picturesque city of San Cristóbal became the epicentre of Zapatista activity and it was to this city that the solidarity groups, sympathisers and curious lefties flocked to witness the struggle. These supporters became quaintly and quickly know as Zapatouristas.