'Politiqueras' a fixture in Rio Grande Valley elections

BROWNSVILLE — The lobby of the Brownsville Public Library's main branch was a hub of wheelchairs and walkers, of elderly and infirm casting votes while a minibus from an assisted living center waited outside.

It was the second day of early voting. Inside the library, Mary Helen Flores of Citizens Against Voter Abuse said she was certain something sinister was going on.

Through a tradition ingrained in the culture of the Rio Grande Valley, for-hire political workers known as “politiqueras“ were delivering the goods, she charged — selling votes.

While politiqueras view their role as one of providing voter assistance, others see it as voter fraud, accusing them of directing voters to specific candidates — for a price.

Flores started CAVA in the aftermath of a 2010 county commission race that ended with a state district judge acknowledging that the election code had been violated, but that the point was moot because there were not enough of the questionable mail-in ballots to change the outcome of the election. Ernie Hernandez, the victor, won by 49 votes, with 240 of the votes for him mail-ins. Ruben Peña, who lost, had 34 mail-in votes.

Flores traced the ballots to nursing homes, adult daycares and assisted living centers, and she interviewed more than 100 of the voters. The stories were consistent. They'd been visited at election time by a politiquera, who came bearing Mexican sweet breads or barbecue plates and “helped them” vote.

Herminia Becerra, the well known 83 year-old Politiquera in Brownsville, TX, works a polling site in front of Cameron County Courthouse during early voting. Thursday, May 17, 2012. Photo/Bob Owen Herminia Becerra, the well known 83 year-old Politiquera in Brownsville, TX, works a polling site in front of Cameron County Courthouse during early voting. Thursday, May 17, 2012. Photo/Bob Owen Photo: BOB OWEN, San Antonio Express-News Photo: BOB OWEN, San Antonio Express-News Image 1 of / 5 Caption Close 'Politiqueras' a fixture in Rio Grande Valley elections 1 / 5 Back to Gallery

“These people are just dying for company, that's all they want,” Flores said, “They want somebody to talk to, they want to feel needed, and that's where they're exploited.”

In a Democratic stronghold like the Rio Grande Valley, most contests will be decided in the primaries, and of the votes cast, nearly half may be in the two weeks before election day. And in the hyper-local races — county commission seats, precinct constables, small city mayors and council members — the 200 votes the politiqueras secure for, say, $2,000, can be the deciding factor toward a position of power that can influence who gets the big insurance or construction contracts or a nod on a job with decent pay.

The politiqueras are enormously powerful, able to steer the poor to the right lawyer, the right social service agency, the right office-holder to solve their problems.

In exchange for their reach within the community, they are wined and dined, invited to high-society weddings, given paid trips to the state party convention.

The powers that be rely on them, said a Democratic candidate who feared being identified because it would not only cost her the race but also bring retribution to family and friends.

“Every candidate is approached,” she said, adding that she gave a polite no, resigned to the likelihood the politiquera would just sell her votes to an opponent. Two politicians who weren't afraid to go on the record had left the Democratic party.

One, state Rep. Aaron Peña, R-Edinburg, recalled his early days as a Democrat.

“They'd walk into the office with a stack of ballots, probably two fists full, and say that they were for sale if I wanted to pay for them,” he said, noting that he turned them down.

Legislation carried by former state Rep. Steve Wolens, D-Dallas, cracked down on mail-in ballots, Peña said, but the statute on assisted voting was easily manipulated.

“Voter assistance abuse is now the voter fraud of choice,” he said.

One in three voters in the mid-Valley's “delta” area was being assisted, he said, and for the recent city of Hidalgo election, it was one in five. Peña filed three bills in 2011 that he said would have curbed such abuse, but none passed.

Cameron County Judge Carlos Cascos, a Republican, said he was offered votes for sale during his days as a Democrat, which he declined

“I did use one lady at one time, but it wasn't, ‘Give me $3,000 for 500 votes,' it was, ‘I know people, I can generate. Give me $50 for gas.' And that's fair.”

He said the votes inevitably came from the poorest neighborhoods, or from the incapacitated.

“When men and women who have been doing this for 30 or 40 years go to candidates and offer their services guaranteeing X amount of votes for X amount of dollars, that is illegal,” he said.

Cameron County Elections Administrator Roger Ortiz said he has heard comments and innuendos, but nothing has ever been proven.

“If there's anything happening, it's happening in someone's home, or a nursing home ... and there's no way we can police that,” he said. “We don't have the authority, we don't have the personnel or the budget, the funds to do something like that. And first of all, it would have to be in the code for us to start doing anything.”

On the level of the state attorney general's office, 21 of 47 election code cases resulting in penalties for elections dating back to 2004 had unlawful voter assistance as a charge. One, a Brazos County case involving the 2010 general election, resulted in a guilty plea. The punishment was a year of deferred adjudication, 20 hours of community service, and $832 in fines and court fees.

CAVA now offers a $5,000 reward for information leading to conviction of voter fraud.

“Sworn statements are not forthcoming from anybody,” Flores said. “Everybody's afraid.”

For the politiqueras, it's a trade that reflects decades of building recognition among the neediest of the community, many of whom don't speak English and don't know where to go when they need help.

“They do block walking, do phone banking, somebody is ill and they visit their neighbors,” said Maria Regalado, owner of a bail bond business in Edinburg. “They make this community very, very strong. It's a healthy thing. I think every politician needs someone who can go out and speak with the people and touch their hearts.”

And indeed, heart thumping is a trademark gesture of the so-called queen of Valley politiqueras, Herminia Becerra.

She's been at it for 55 years, and now is 83 years old, taking her advocacy to the front of the county courthouse.

She doesn't sell votes, she said. Rather, she has been blessed with the ability to reach people and “make things happen.”

lbrezosky@express-news.net