By Adam Siegel

Colombian president Juan Manuel Santos is likely to open the Sixth Summit of the Americas in Cartagena next month with a standard welcome for Barack Obama and the 33 other leaders of the Western Hemisphere, but maybe there's a more fitting greeting for the U.S. president: "This is an intervention." After decades of partnering with the U.S. to pursue an aggressive, often controversial 'war on drugs,' a number of Latin American leaders say they're ready to discuss major shifts in regional anti-drug policy. Some of them have begun talk of "decriminalization" -- and they want to do it at the Summit, where the United States will have no choice but to talk up the merits of the prohibition policies it has long favored.

The former presidents of Brazil, Colombia, and Mexico generated headlines in 2009 by jointly declaring that "the war on drugs has failed" and calling for decriminalization of marijuana, but the commentary was dismissed in some quarters as an easy argument to make for men no longer politically accountable as heads of state. Since then, however, several sitting Latin American leaders (on both the left and right) have called for candid debate of current drug policy. Among them: Mexico's Felipe Calderon, Costa Rica's Laura Chinchilla, Argentina's Cristina Kirchner, Guatemala's Otto Perez Molina, and Colombia's Santos -- who told Britain's The Observer last year that "A new approach should try and take away the violent profit that comes with drug trafficking... If that means legalizing, and the world thinks that's the solution, I will welcome it."

Santos' caveat -- "[if] the world thinks that's the solution" -- nods to the global reach of Latin America's drug trafficking organizations, underscoring the desire for a debate that includes producers and consumers (who are concentrated in the U.S. and Europe). This distinction is important; indeed, personal consumption of drugs like marijuana and cocaine is already technically decriminalized in Mexico, Costa Rica, and Colombia, while the total number of convictions for personal drug possession in Guatemala and Argentina combined was just 161 in 2009, according to the Inter-American Drug Abuse Control Commission. So when an ex-military general like Perez or a former defense minister like Santos talks about decriminalization, it's not because they care so much about personal liberties. Rather, they have one major goal in mind: choking off the resources that fuel drug cartels and the violence they practice.

As Perez explained recently in advance of a Central American conference on alternative drug strategy sponsored by his administration in Antigua, "drugs are expensive precisely because they are prohibited...traffickers will lose if they cease to be profitable." While no detailed proposal is yet on the table, his idea of decriminalization is clear: create a legal framework to make the production and transport of cocaine legal, at least throughout Central America -- a region through which approximately 80 percent of the cocaine heading to the United States stops. Bringing the business of this $37 billion industry out into the open, it is assumed, would reduce the imperative of traffickers to corrupt public officials and their need to use violence against both governments and rivals for access to the best trafficking routes.

Other leaders, from Vice President Joe Biden to Nicaraguan president Daniel Ortega, have rejected the decriminalization proposals out of hand. Nevertheless, the coordinator of Obama's trip to Colombia recently indicated that the U.S. was "ready to have a good dialogue between all countries to hear their views," though he reiterated that U.S. opposition to any legalization will not change. Of the suggestions offered at the Guatemala conference last weekend, some could be endorsed by the U.S. -- such as the creation of a regional Central American court for trying traffickers that would reduce local corruption and relieve pressure on national justice systems, while others -- mandating that the U.S. take "co-responsibility" and pay individual countries for every drug raid or plant eradicated -- don't stand a chance.

Obama's challenge at the Summit will be to offer policy alternatives to the status quo. Latin American leaders warn that Washington has asked them to take tough choices over the years, and they want to see the U.S. demonstrate the political courage to consider a few of their own. Latin Americans are far from united on decriminalization or any other single solution, but the gathering in Cartagena will make clear that they have become increasingly willing and able to propose new ideas they know that Washington won't like. If Guatemala's Perez Molina gets his way, we'll even see him start discussions on a formal drug transit corridor for moving cocaine between South America and the United States.

Wartime U.S. presidents talk often of the need to "listen to the generals on the ground." In coming years, beginning in Cartagena, Washington can expect its "frontline partners" in the war on drugs to offer up strategies and ideas that U.S. policymakers won't like. Some Latin American leaders may give Obama a break during an election year, but they aren't prepared to wait much longer.

Adam Siegel is a researcher in Eurasia Group's Latin America practice.

By Heather Berkman

Guatemala's presidential campaign has been full of twists and turns, with the most recent bump coming on Wednesday, when the indigenous organization Waqib Kej presented a letter to the United Nations denouncing former Army General Otto Perez Molina for his alleged involvement in acts of genocide and torture during the country's long civil war. Perez Molina also happens to be the right-of-center Patriot Party presidential candidate and favorite to win Guatemala's September 11 election. His competitor is former first lady Sandra Torres, who last March divorced her husband, current President Alvaro Colom, in order to "marry the people of Guatemala" -- or, in other words, to claim eligibility for her own presidential bid. The turbulent campaign only mirrors Guatemala's larger woes. And no matter who secures the presidency, the country seems unlikely to get it together anytime soon.

Guatemalan politics over the past few years have been reminiscent of a dark and twisted telenovela. This is the country where a lawyer planned his own death and posthumously released a video blaming the government for it, and where just last week famed Argentine singer Facundo Cabral was gunned down in his car. Since the May 2011 start of the election period, more than 30 candidates for office -- ranging from local councils to mayorships -- have been murdered, and members of the supreme election tribunal have received death threats. The alarming events led Jose Miguel Insulza, the secretary general of the Organization of American States, to express concern about rising tensions leading up to the national elections.

The country's troubles are also what have enabled Perez Molina to soar to the top of public opinion polls. While the allegations of human rights abuses are nothing new, little concrete evidence has been presented to date, and Perez Molina has capitalized on his anti-crime stance to curry favor with voters. Torres, meanwhile, is waging an uphill battle to reverse the election tribunal's decision that her former marriage makes her ineligible to run for president.

But whatever happens on election day, the new administration will have a tough time lifting Guatemala out of the morass it finds itself in. Since he entered office in January 2008, President Colom has seemingly lurched from one disaster to the next and has failed to build enough support in Guatemala's unruly and fragmented legislature to pass much-needed tax reforms. Meanwhile, drug traffickers from Mexico have extended their networks through the country, crime and violence have sapped government resources and stymied investment, and the government repetitively has had to turn to multilateral financial institutions and foreign governments for support. Perez Molina may promise to usher in change and a heavy hand on security, but following through on his agenda and bringing Guatemala back on track may be more than what this former military man has bargained for.

Heather Berkman is an analyst in Eurasia Group's Latin America practice.

By Ian Bremmer

"There is no reason why these things, as tragic as they are, should affect the safety of fans or players at the World Cup," said Lawrence Schlemmer, vice president of the South African Institute of Race Relations, on Monday. On the surface, Mr. Schlemmer is right. There is no reason why the murder last weekend in South Africa of white supremacist leader Eugene Terreblanche, allegedly by two young black men who worked on his farm, should have any effect on the upcoming FIFA World Cup, the first on African soil.

Unfortunately, he's simply responding to the fears sparked by comments like these:

"We're going to warn those nations, 'You are sending your soccer teams to a land of murder," said Andre Visagie, General Secretary of the AWB, the political party Terreblanche helped establish, first to defend apartheid and then to create a whites-only homeland within South Africa. "Don't do that if you don't have sufficient protection for them, Visagie added." After calling the killing a "declaration of war" by blacks against whites in the country, the AWB has since toned down its rhetoric and joined with the government in calling for calm.

The mother of one of the suspects blames the killing on frustration and anger over unpaid wages. Terreblanche's political allies blame a man called Julius Malema, president of the Youth League of the ruling African National Congress, for inciting black South Africans by singing an apartheid-era resistance song that calls on members to "shoot the Boer," a reference to white farmers of Dutch descent that has become a term of derision in some quarters for all white South Africans. A South African court has since banned the song under hate speech laws.

Under normal circumstances, it's a stretch to claim that a song can provoke murder or that a murder can disrupt the World Cup. But if the country is on edge, it's in part because violent crime remains a serious problem. Murder rates have fallen in recent years, but the perception remains that South Africa is a dangerous place. Even after passions have cooled, the murder will feed a growing perception in South Africa that government policies have failed to economically empower black citizens, to alleviate poverty, and to create jobs. Local corruption remains a chronic problem.

The real bad news for the country will come if this single headline-grabbing act of violence speeds an exodus of white South Africans. Just as the decision by Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez to fire striking oil workers from the country's state-owned oil company sent some of the most talented and experienced engineers to work in Canada's oil industry, so a significant number of white South Africans, fearful of the future or merely searching for a more promising economic climate, have found their way to Australia, the U.K., Canada and elsewhere.

There is now some real risk of racial unrest before the World Cup, which has had an overwhelmingly positive impact on the country's sense of unity and national pride. The larger risk is that any spike in violence will add to the perception, at home and abroad, that things aren't getting any better for most South Africans, black or white. There remain good reasons to be positive about the country's role in rapid African economic development. But the weekend's events could, reasonably or not, create trouble in days and years to come.

Ian Bremmer is president of Eurasia Group and author of The End of the Free Market: Who Wins the War Between States and Corporations? (Portfolio, May 2010)

By Kim Iskyan

There's a reason for the popular perception that Russians like their drink: The average Russian citizen consumes 18 liters of pure alcohol per year, compared with about 11 liters per year in Western Europe. But if President Dmitry Medvedev's new anti-drinking campaign is a success, Russians will be toasting a lot less often.

Russian history is littered with failed attempts by imperious leaders with a social engineering streak to interfere in Russians' tippling habits. The most recent effort, the mid-1980s anti-drinking campaign spearheaded by Mikhail Gorbachev, was abandoned in part because it was hugely unpopular.

But the Kremlin has good reason to try again. Russia's drinking problem, which Medvedev has called a "national disaster," has long been cited as a key cause of Russia's ongoing demographic collapse. Alcohol abuse is a key reason why Russian men have a life expectancy of just 60 years, on par with North Korea and Papua New Guinea. In no small part due to alcohol abuse, the U.N. forecasts that Russia's population will fall from the current 142 million to 131 million by 2025, endangering economic growth and national security over the long term.

Medvedev has charged the government with developing an anti-drinking strategy by Dec. 1. Media reports suggest it may include new restrictions on advertising for alcoholic beverages; tightened regulations for low-alcohol content beverages; limitations on the times and locations at which alcoholic beverages can be sold; and price floors for and increased taxes on vodka. The plan will include additional measures to reduce Russia's gray alcohol market. The government is also contemplating whether to re-establish its monopoly on distilled spirits used to make vodka.

The campaign's chances of success may be better than previous Russian battles with the bottle. Some polls have suggested broad support for a temperance campaign. From a fiscal perspective, the relative contribution to the federal budget of alcohol taxation is a small fraction today of what it was during previous attempts to crack down on alcohol consumption, ensuring that lower consumption wouldn't dramatically decrease government revenue. It might even boost government coffers via higher taxes. Finally, the apparent success in the government's effort to eradicate legalized gambling -- as of July 1, all casinos and slot machine parlors operating outside four specified zones were closed -- reflects considerable political will to engineer positive social change, which could be channeled into an anti-alcohol effort.

Russia's anti-alcohol campaign is still in its very early stages. The politically powerful alcohol lobby, wary of higher taxes, could dilute the effort. And there are a lot more Russians drinking than gambling.

Kim Iskyan is a Europe and Eurasia analyst at Eurasia Group

ALEXANDER NEMENOV/AFP/Getty Images

By Eurasia Group analysts Allyson Benton and Patrick Esteruelas

As the Mexican government continues to face serious public security problems caused by the nation's drug cartels, fears are mounting that investors may lose confidence. In Mexico's current economic climate, where GDP could contract by as much as 8 percent in 2009, according to the OECD, any potential downward pressure on the economy sets off alarm bells.

Since he took office in 2006, President Felipe Calderon has pursued a twofold strategy against organized crime. The government has deployed the military to key drug trafficking regions in the north and along the west coast to root out cartels. It has also pushed important institutional reforms through congress to help make the country's police forces and judicial system more efficient. Nonetheless, the level of narcotrafficking violence has grown nearly threefold during Calderon's time in office, from an average of 2,195 deaths in 2006 and 2007 to an estimated 6,000 total deaths expected in 2009. In addition, drug traffickers appear to be moving into other illicit activities like extortion rackets and kidnapping rings, as the number of such reported crimes has risen dramatically in the past two years. These rising public security problems could suggest that Mexico is heading along the same path as Colombia, but there are some important distinctions to consider.

A few factors, in particular, make Mexico's state of affairs quite different from the situation in Colombia. First, the government still maintains control over its territory and has not ceded ground to narcotraffickers at any time. Second, although the fight against the cartels has resulted in higher rates of violence, the hostility remains largely contained in a few states and among narcotraffickers vying for improved positions within the cartels or between them. Third, Mexico's drug trafficking violence on a per capital basis remains significantly lower than Colombia's. Even after years of President Alvaro Uribe's successful hard-line security policy against Colombia's narcotraffickers, violence in this country remains quite high: There were a total of 16,000 reported homicides in 2008 in a country of 45 million people. In Mexico, in contrast, narcotrafficking related violence is expected to cause about 6,000 casualties in 2009, in a country of more than 100 million. Fourth, Mexico's narcotraffickers have not targeted civilians in order to support a campaign of fear against the government, even if they do continue to target public officials specifically involved in the fight against them.

In Colombia, in contrast, the nation's narcotraffickers embarked on a public fear campaign that targeted civilians and political elites, even if they had little to do with narcotrafficking or the fight against it. Finally, and most important, Mexico's narcotraffickers have no unifying political agenda. In contrast, Colombia's narcotraffickers -- in particular, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) -- originated out of a drive to see their left-leaning interests represented in the nation's political and party system, and they still claim to have such political aims. A unifying political agenda, however tenuous, helps reinforce the structural integrity and thus durability of groups when under pressure from the government.

In the end, the stark contrasts between Mexico and Colombia explain why investor confidence in Mexico does not appear to have waned as a result of the country's public security woes. As long as President Calderon stays firm in his stance against organized crime, investors will continue to base their judgments about Mexico on the government's capacity to push through badly needed fiscal and economic reforms rather than the level of narcotrafficking violence.

FERNANDO CASTILLO/AFP/Getty Images