Laura's Blog: A Hand Across the Border to All the Parents of Drug War Victims

This is the tenth day of the Americas Program Stop the Drug War tour in the United States. Most of the events include a screening of the excellent short film "Living Juárez: Collateral Damage in Mexico's Drug War". It's a remarkable film by Americas Media Initiative´s director, Alexandra Halkin, that takes a look at the people whose lives were torpedoed by the massacre of teenagers in Villas de Salvárcar, Ciudad Juárez, in early 2010.

The film focuses on two friends--the mother of two young men murdered in the massacre and the mother of a young man accused of the murders. As one faces the immense loss caused by the senseless violence and the absence of security in Mexico's most militarized city, the other faces the torture and possible framing of her son by government forces. By showing not only the pain, but also the resilience and resistance of the mother of the murdered youth who confronted Calderón following the massacre, and of the young people of Villas who are organizing against militarization in the neighborhood, the film reveals the contradictions of an unwinnable drug war and the hope found among the people who have suffered the brunt of its brutality.

This alchemy of pain to rage to organizing was on display yesterday, April 6th, in the simultaneous demonstrations held throughout the country and in other countries to protest the drug war. When the 24 year-old son of Javier Sicilia was found tortured and murdered along with six friends, the well-known poet wrote an open letter to politicians and criminals (you can find an English translation here).

Sicilia accused the politicians responsible for the drug war of fomenting violence, of rampant corruption and of incompetence. He later called for legalization as the basis of returning peace to the country. Sicilia also accused the criminals of unbridled ruthlessness and cowardly cruelty.

From here in the United States, it has been easy to convince audiences of the senselessness of the drug war. Especially on the border, rising violence in Mexico concerns people--not because they are afraid it will spill over the border, as luridly and falsely portrayed in the mainstream press, but because it affects their friends and family and neighbors.

At the University of Texas Pan American campus in McAllen--the first stop of the tour--I heard stories of drug war violence from the moment I touched down. One student said her family had been forcibly exiled from their town in Tamaulipas and could no longer return home even to place flowers on her grandparents' graves. Another described the daily extortion her father had to pay to keep his small business going. Another told a spine-chilling story of sexual abuse at gunpoint of all the women passengers on a public bus and her best friend's fruitless pleas for mercy. Abuses by the military, the drug cartels, the police, and even former classmates who had joined cartels had become features of daily life in the region. Hundreds of students turned out to hear about how to change obviously counterproductive security strategies.

Audiences have been more surprised to learn the role the U.S. government plays in supporting the bloodshed. The Merida Initiative and U.S. involvement in Mexico has gotten little press amid the stories of open warfare in Afghanistan and the bombing of Libya. But more than $1.5 billion has been allocated to bolstering the Calderon drug war and the 2012 budget asks for some $300 million more. A movement is growing to reject renewed funding for the Merida Initiative, as Congress battles over where to make cuts.

From here in Indiana, en route to North Carolina, a part of me longs to be back in Mexico. To witness the bravery of those who are speaking out against the drug war and demanding change, to chronicle their voices and report on efforts in the United States to stand up to their government to cut off funds for the bloody war.

The loss of a child has been the catalyst for some of the most determined and valient efforts against this war, efforts that have turned public opinion around and built a movement for change and against impunity. Luz Maria Davila, the mother of the boys in Ciudad Juarez; Marisela Escobedo whose daughter Rubi was murdered and who was later murdered herself; Josefina Reyes, also murdered, who lost a son and suffered army harassment; the hundreds of nameless bereaved parents have spoken up  and refused to fall back into the private depths of their grief. Along with Javier Sicilia, they all have given us hope that from their pain, a change can come.

A critical ingredient of that change will be what happens in the United States. Faith-based organizations, labor unions and citizen groups in the U.S. are demanding an end to the Obama administration's support for Calderon's drug war; people are writing letters urging Congress to end the Merida Initiative. U.S. citizens can join Mexicans in demanding a strategy that diminishes rather than increases violence, and that rejects the failed enforcement model and prohibitionist policies that have unleashed so much violence south of the border.