Javier Sicilia: Public Mourning for the Sons of Mexico

Abstract

Since 2006, when former Mexican President Felipe Calderón’s term in office began, narco-violence has gone from being considered a peripheral, border issue, to becoming the general public’s main concern as it struggles to come to terms with the senseless and daily acts of violence that have permeated the entire nation, including cities once considered symbols of Mexican modernity and high culture, such as Monterrey and Guadalajara. Although figures vary from outlet to outlet, it is estimated that more than 80,000 people have been killed in the three-pronged war waged between the drug cartels and the Mexican military. In 2011 alone, there were approximately 12,000 drug-related deaths, an increase of about 6 percent compared to the previous year (Booth).² According to the Instituto de Acción Ciudadana para la Justicia y Democracia, a Mexican nonprofit organization and human rights watchdog that monitors the government’s performance, in 2011 71.5 percent of the nation’s municipalities were “either occupied or under the control of organized crime” (Gómora). The figure is alarming when considering that the same organization estimates that just six years ago drug cartels had a strong presence in only a third of the country. Although it was one of the bloodiest and grimmest years since the all-out war began, 2011 was also witness to many changes in the way the public reacted to the massacre and the lack of accountability and justice.

Every son who dies becomes a son of this nation.¹

Javier Sicilia, in one of his first radio interviews after his son’s murder.

Not all parents are poets, but all children are poetry.

Banner from one of Sicilia’s peace marches.