Mexican Women Have Had Enough

CW: mentions of sexual violence

“They don’t protect us, they rape us” (“No nos cuidan, nos violan”) — these are the words found on a poster held by a feminist protester in Mexico City during the protests of the last few months against rampant sexual violence in Mexico. These words were specifically targeted at the Mexican police force after news broke of several cases of rape by police officers against two young girls, but they also exemplify the frustration and anger that has been felt by Mexican women for several decades, especially as rates of domestic violence and femicide have exponentially increased since the 1990s. In the words of Professor Silvia Gil of Iberian-American University of Mexico City, “To understand the unrest in which Mexican women now find themselves as protagonists, you have to imagine a situation where every time you leave your house, go to school, to work you simply do not know if you will come back alive.” 

As Mexico finds itself center stage in a complex political climate––granting asylum to ousted Bolivian president Evo Morales, rampant drug cartel-related violence on its northern border, overcrowded shelters for refugees and asylum seekers, high stakes USMCA trade deal negotiations––there is a momentous feminist movement worth paying attention to that is building up in the background, elucidating an issue that has been neglected by the Mexican government at a deadly cost: extremely high rates of violence against women.

The statistics surrounding violence against women in Mexico (including rape, domestic violence, neglect, and murder) are both staggering and deeply disturbing. According to a 2019 report released by the Secretariat of the National Public Security System of Mexico, at least 10 women are murdered in Mexico every day, meaning, on average, a Mexican woman is murdered every two and a half hours. In 2018, nearly 3,600 women were killed, and, in the first four months of 2019, 1,199 cases of femicide have already been reported. At this rate, the total amount of femicides in 2019 are projected to reach 4,796, which would represent a 33% increase from 2018. The rate of femicide has doubled in the past five years and has increased at even higher rates in 18 of the 32 states in Mexico. It is also important to note that indigenous women are also significantly more at risk of rape and femicide. Due to these significant increases in violence, Mexico ruled femicide a federal crime in 2012 and established several programs to protect women. These programs have clearly not been very successful.  

Reporting an accurate number of rape cases that occur in Mexico is incredibly challenging, primarily for reasons related to the tangible culture of fear felt by Mexican women and the history of violent retaliation against women who speak out against their assailants. The most glaring statistic surrounding sexual violence against Mexican women is that 98% of victims will not report the abuse they face. Margarita Martinez, a human rights defender who was raped, recounted her experience at a panel with international activists and journalists in 2012 where she described what happened to her after she spoke out about her traumatic experience back home in Mexico: “My home was searched by 18 to 20 armed police, who beat us, tortured us, and separated our children from me… It wasn’t a search, but sheer intimidation.” Aside from physical intimidation, it is no secret that many women have been killed by their abusers for speaking out against them. Despite the incredibly low rate of victims who do report their abuse, the number of sexual crimes against women that have been registered by Mexican authorities is alarming. In 2018, around 3,500 sex crimes were reported in Mexico City, and the Assocation for the Development of Abused People declared that they treat 100 rape victims a week. This would total 5,200 rape victims a year.

Violence against Mexican women has been a mobilizing issue since the early 2000s. In 2004, feminists activists in Chihuahua persuaded the state government to mandate law enforcement divisions tasked with investigating the high numbers of missing and murdered women in the border city of Ciudad Juarez. More than 40 simultaneous protests in different cities and states occurred in April of 2016 as thousands of Mexican women flooded their streets denouncing the violence they faced in their daily lives. These protests were also marked by viral twitter hashtags including #MyFirstHarassment (#MiPrimerAcoso) and #WeWantOurselvesAlive (#VivasNosQueremos). An article written by a Mexican woman who partook in this 2016 protest describes how these protests marked the beginning of a new era in which Mexican women are ready to make their voices and realities heard: “For many women, it was the first time they publicly talked about these deep wounds. Many of them, including myself, found courage to make their testimonies public… all of the stories had so much in common: physical-emotional violence by friends, professors, boyfriends and family members.”

The horrific reality that Mexican women face––coupled by the decades of activism saturated in resistance, anger, and frustration––has led to a new wave of feminist protests that began in August of this year in Mexico City. These protests are said to have been in reaction to two cases of rape commited by police officers against two young girls, a sixteen- and seventeen-year-old. In the case of the sixteen-year-old, she alleged that a total of four police officers raped her inside a patrol car, prompting the mayor of Mexico City to solicit an investigation by the Commission on Human Rights on the case. 

This movement has been designated the “Glitter Revolution” after a group of feminist activists showered Jesús Orta Martinez, Mexico City’s security chief, with pink glitter and then attempted to spray him with a pink aerosol can during their inaugural protest on August 12th. The protests on this day consisted of hundreds of Mexican feminists marching from the Secretariat of Security building (Secretaría de Seguridad Ciudadana) to the office of the Attorney General of Mexico City carrying signs denouncing sexual violence perpetrated by members of the police force. Signs included phrases such as “Not one more, we are not your property”; “Who will protect us from the police?”; “In Mexico, rapists wear uniform”; and “They don’t protect us, they rape us.” Protesters vandalized both government buildings, writing similar phrases and accusing the government of being complicit in the rape and violence against Mexican women. One of the most intense moments of this inaugural protest came when protesters smashed the glass entrance to the building of the office of the Attorney General and demanded that she go out to meet them to discuss the progress of one of the rape cases.

Four days later, on August 16th, these protests escalated both in the number of protesters and in force. An estimated 2,000 protesters were said to have taken the streets of Mexico City to once again protest the sexual crimes committed by the police, the subsequent government inaction, and the larger structural and societal issue of rampant violence against women. Chants erupted calling the police rapists, murderers, and pigs. That night, activists vandalized the iconic “Angel of Independence” statue with paint and graffiti with messages carrying a congruous sentiments such as “Mexico is a Femicide State,” “Rape State,” and “They are killing us.” This statue is arguably the most important and central monument in all of Mexico, as it was erected to celebrate Mexico’s War of Independence and houses the remains of the country’s most famous war heroes.

Uruguayan feminist Noelia Correa labeled the protest “the closest thing to an insurrection” this generation of feminists in Latin America have seen. Feminist activist Alejandra Santillana Ortiz, who helped organized this second protest, said the following about this momentous mobilization: “On Friday, together in the streets, we felt a pressing need to be embodied, to become one collective body, to politically express the rage we felt. We were millions.” These two protests initiated a wave of other protests that have been replicated in more than a dozen states since then. Similar protests, occurring on Day of the Dead in early November and on the 25th of November in Mexico City, featured activists demanding government action on femicide and rape beyond establishing a “state of emergency.” The protest that occurred on the Day of the Dead in Mexico City which activists renamed the “Day of the Dead Women” and included hundreds of women carrying purple crosses with the names of their daughters, granddaughters, and nieces who had been murdered. In a striking image from the protests, we see marchers wearing shirts with pictures of loved ones from their families and communities that have been affected by this epidemic of gender based-violence with text above that simply says “Justice” (Justicia).

Perhaps unsurprisingly, protesting women found themselves in danger. They have provoked many dark facets of Mexican society and thus heightened emotions on both sides. Santanilla Ortiz spoke to Tobias Boos of New Frame and recounted how several Mexican men infiltrated the protests and attacked both protesters and reporters. She said, “One thing to note is that while it was a feminist mobilisation with agreement that only women would be on the front lines, there was a presence of men with faces covered or hidden throughout the march, who filmed us, who wanted to be in the front taking up space that didn’t belong to them, and exerting direct violence… these men who infiltrated our march came to unleash their patriarchal violence, to intimidate and to make clear that they would not allow a change to the murderous and oppressive status quo.”

As these protests continue to happen all over Mexico, it is worth remembering that women are putting themselves in even more vulnerable positions to make their voices heard in the name of progress for their communities. How many more daughters and sisters will not come home from school or work until the government stops looking the other way? How many more protests will be infiltrated by violent men who resent the call for accountability against aggressors and justice for victims of gender-based violence? Although much of Mexico seems to not know the answer to those questions, Mexican feminists have already spoken: not one more.