Bending the River

Mexico has never forgiven the U.S. for a little piece of Yanqui land chiseling. Back in the mid-1800s, the unpredictable course of the Rio Grande shifted southward at El Paso, leaving a 600-acre wedge of flat, sandy Mexican land stranded on the Texas side (see map). Mexico still claimed the land, known as El Chamizal, but the U.S. said no: the border runs where the Rio Grande runs. In 1911, the angry Chamizal dispute was put to international arbitration. The arbitrators sided with

Mexico; the U.S. rejected the decision, and Texans went on building homes and businesses in the area. Ever since, sensitive Mexicans have regarded El Chamizal as a clear-cut case of Yanqui imperialism.

A dingy string of stockyards, tenements and small factories near the bridges between El Paso and Ciudad Juarez, El Chamizal hardly seems worth the fuss. Yet President Kennedy heard about it at length during his Mexico trip last year. He left convinced that it was time to end the quarrel once and for all. Last week, after months of negotiation by U.S. Ambassador Thomas Mann, the U.S. and Mexico, in simultaneous ceremonies in Washington and Mexico City, announced a settlement.

Under the terms of the accord, the U.S. will give Mexico 630 acres of U.S. territory, and will receive in turn a desolate 193-acre chunk of Cordova Island, a Mexico-owned enclave on the El Paso side of the river. As soon as the U.S. and Mexican Senates ratify the agreement--probably late this year--the U.S. will make plans to reimburse Chamizal property owners and relocate the area's 3,750 residents. Railroads that run through El Chamizal will be rerouted farther north. The U.S. and Mexico will then split the expenses of building six new bridges and cutting a new, concrete-lined channel to prevent further disputes over the wandering Rio Grande. Total estimated cost to the U.S.: $28 million.

"The biggest robbery since the Brink's case," cried one Texas resident of El Chamizal. But most Texans agreed that good borders make good neighbors. In Mexico City, jubilant paraders waved lighted torches, mariachi bands played wildly and cathedral bells rang out.

Mexico's President Adolfo Lopez Mateos went on nationwide TV to declare:

"Justice has come at last." And Mexico's press was full of editorials calling the settlement "a great example of how the most powerful nation in the world recognizes an error."

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