Staff Reports
The Justice Department’s recent move to begin turning over audio tapes from the 1985 torture and killing of DEA agent Enrique “Kiki” Camarena is the kind of delayed reckoning that should make every American uneasy about what has been hidden in the name of intelligence and diplomacy. These tapes—long rumored, rarely seen, and now part of discovery in the federal case against Rafael Caro Quintero—could reopen wounds and raise uncomfortable questions about who was protecting whom during the dark days of the drug wars.
For decades the Camarena case has been a symbol of how cartel violence metastasized across borders and how justice can be postponed by politics, bureaucracy, and bad deals. Rafael Caro Quintero, long pursued by U.S. authorities, was expelled to face charges in Brooklyn earlier this year and pleaded not guilty as the government moved to assemble decades-old evidence against him and other cartel figures. The government’s press materials and court filings make clear this is being handled as one of the most consequential cartel prosecutions in modern memory.
The Pandora’s box that opens here is not limited to cartel crimes alone; the Amazon documentary series The Last Narc and investigative reporting have repeatedly pointed to the possibility that a former CIA operative, Félix Rodríguez, was present during parts of Camarena’s interrogation—an allegation that has gnawed at the edges of the official story for years. Whether those allegations prove true or not, the documentary and subsequent reporting forced institutions to stop pretending the past can be buried without consequence and pushed investigators to take another look at tangled ties between intelligence, foreign policy, and illegal trade.
Understandably, the CIA and others have flatly denied any role in Camarena’s death, and those denials are a key part of this drama; yet denials are not evidence, and in a system of laws we do not accept mysteries forever because they make officials uncomfortable. The burden is on government agencies to show their work and to answer whether any assets or contractors were ever involved with traffickers or with activities that put American agents at risk. Silence and secrecy only breed cynicism.
Conservatives who value both strong national security and rule of law should demand clarity—not cover-ups. This episode exemplifies what happens when geopolitical expedience trumps accountability: admirable short-term objectives can produce horrific long-term costs, and brave public servants like DEA agents get sacrificed on the altar of plausible deniability. If Americans insist on an intelligent foreign policy, it must be one that does not use expedience as an excuse to abandon our own.
There’s also a policy lesson for today: the same criminal networks that slaughtered agents in the 1980s have matured into multinational cartels that exploit porous borders, weak governance, and misguided priorities. If the tapes and documents now in play reveal uncomfortable truths about past cooperation or compromise, those lessons must translate into tougher action at the border, better support for law enforcement, and a refusal to tolerate any relationship—public or covert—that enriches criminals at the expense of American lives.
At bottom, this is about justice for Kiki Camarena and for every American who expects the government to protect its people and to be honest about its mistakes. The DOJ’s disclosures should be the start of real transparency, not the final curtain on a story some would prefer remain untold. Congress should demand the full release of relevant material, and investigators must follow the facts wherever they lead so that institutions are rebuilt on truth rather than myth.
