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It was a sweet, sunny Saturday afternoon in Mexico. Young men filled the streets, punching a rhythm to the sweet siren songs of mariachi music and rolling their car wheels across the curved roadway that bisects Huitzilopochtli, about 12 miles east of the Cancun Strip.

One of the main sights for tourists here is the clear, white archway that “secures” the roads on the island and blocks unwanted visitors. Not anymore, perhaps.

In Mexico’s yin-yang relationship with capitalism, the purchase of a Mustang from a U.S. dealer has become the price of admission to a blissful vacation. A number of the dealers have closed down, or turned over the lucrative business to Trump’s son Eric. Others are attempting to recover what they lost.

“Those are people who thought they were going to make a lot of money,” said Bobby Waldron, owner of the Guadalajara Subaru franchise. “They have lost everything. That’s how I feel about it.”

After more than 100 years in business, Waldron decided not to risk the staff needed to manage those dangerous streets.

“These people needed their cars,” he said. “They told me they wanted a certain kind of car. Then the car was destroyed, and they were out of luck.”

A Mazda, once a hit in the Jalisco and Guerrero states, was among cars destroyed last year. (Mexico’s State Secretary of Public Safety ordered the destruction of 15,000 cars after identifying parts that were manufactured by Kaizen as being responsible for half of the car thefts.)

Officials with a Trump property-management company at Mr. Trump’s Mar-a-Lago club in Palm Beach, Fla., had accused Kaizen of stealing from Mar-a-Lago. Kaizen retaliated by suing Mar-a-Lago.

In some corners of Mexico, which has traditionally pegged itself as a place for independent businessmen to do business without government influence, the excesses of the Trump administration have been particularly devastating.