The murder of a priest in Chiapas sparks indigenous demands for justice and peace

Chiapas has been an epicenter of economic interest in Mexico in recent years. The government established lines of an interoceanic train in the region – and in some neighboring countries – connecting passengers and goods from the Atlantic to the Pacific. This mega project includes the creation of ports, industrial parks and energy facilities, which has attracted interest and companies from several parts of the country.

At the same time, despite opposition from local residents, a number of projects focused on mineral extraction are planned in Chiapas. Some are the Canadian company Blackfire Exploration, which owns mines in Chiapas that produce barite, titanium and magnetite.

In 2006, Blackfire purchased the mines and began extracting minerals without consulting local indigenous and farming communities. Resistance to the operation became increasingly fierce until its harshest critic, Mariano Abarca, was murdered in 2009. The state government then closed the mine.

Oblate Br. Eleazar López, a priest of Zapotec origin who lives in Juchitán de Zaragoza, about 200 miles east of San Cristóbal, told the National Catholic Reporter that “the region has always been considered a supplier of minerals and lumber since colonial times.”

“That’s why it attracts projects like this these days – it’s a reserve of wealth to look for when the economic system doesn’t see other ways to make profits,” López said.

He was friends with Pérez for several years. He emphasized that criminal organizations have also emerged alongside investors and corporations, and many activists say these various agents sometimes act together. If an indigenous community opposes a mining project on their land, armed gangs may be called in to dissuade the group – and this can be achieved through threats and violence.

Pérez had been subjected to threats for months. He worked as a priest in Simojovel but had to be transferred to San Cristóbal de las Casas earlier this year after the severity of threats increased. He told the local press at the time that “a price had been put on him.”

As his commitment to protecting indigenous and farming communities ran counter to the interests of powerful groups, the campaign against him became increasingly aggressive. Pérez was accused, among other things, of being a key member of Los Machetes, an armed self-defense organization created to protect locals from the actions of drug cartels.

“That was absurd. Everyone knew that Father Marcelo stood for peace in every situation,” Guadalupe Vásquez Luna, a Tsotsil woman and member of the non-governmental organization Las Abejas de Acteal (The Bees), told NCR.

Vásquez Luna is a survivor of the 1997 Acteal massacre, when a paramilitary gang attacked her town, killing 45 people, including many women and children. The attack occurred 200 meters from a barracks, but troops claimed they heard nothing.

“The Mexican state wanted to show us that it would treat any indigenous community that dared to stand up for their rights this way,” Vásquez Luna added. She noted that this incident occurred just three years after the infamous Zapatista uprising, when thousands of members of indigenous groups formed an armed battalion to confront the violence of the state and private agents who wanted to control their land and tried to dominate cities in Chiapas .

Especially in recent years, Chiapas has faced a similar scenario. Armed groups have entered indigenous towns and forced people to obey their orders. Threats and murders are the order of the day. Earlier this year, hundreds of indigenous farmers were forced to leave their ancestral lands and move to Guatemala to save their lives.

The unrest caused by the territorial dispute between two drug cartels in the north has changed the lives of the people who have always lived there. It has also impacted the local power structure of each city. The three dioceses of Chiapas have repeatedly denounced the situation. The Catholic Church had even warned the Mexican government that Chiapas could not hold this year’s elections because it was too unsafe.

The Church has been a constant ally of the indigenous population and the poor in Chiapas for centuries. This alliance was reaffirmed by the late Bishop Samuel Ruiz Garcia, who served as local bishop between 1959 and 2011 (when he died), always prioritizing the poor and indigenous groups.

Ruiz promoted the liturgical use of local indigenous languages ​​and encouraged the self-organization of farming communities. He received an honorary title for his great efforts to protect indigenous peoples jtatik“our father” in Tseltal, one of the Mayan languages ​​of Chiapas.

An estimated 2 million people in the region use their native indigenous languages ​​every day. Pérez, the priest killed on October 20, did not learn Spanish until he was a teenager while attending school.

“People laughed at his difficulties and he became a stutterer,” remembers López. After a few years, however, Pérez “dominated not only the Spanish language but also Western categories of thought,” he added.

Since 2007, the Diocese of San Cristobal de las Casas has been working on liturgical adjustments to bring the celebrations closer to Mayan cultures. The changes, which include the introduction of dances during Mass, were approved by the Vatican earlier this month.

Missionaries like Pérez advocate for theological reflection that can take into account the spiritual perspectives of indigenous peoples, López said. One of the basic principles of indigenous thought, he emphasized, is the idea of ​​existing harmony between people and the environment.

“The West thinks we are not part of nature, but we are. This is an ideology that encourages the exploitation and destruction of the common home,” he said. Pérez was a victim of the extremes of the Western colonial project, López said.

Mexico has become one of the most violent countries in the world. Former President Andrés Manuel López Obrador ended his six-year term in September with nearly 200,000 murders. The previous government under Enrique Peña Nieto (2012-2018) recorded 150,000 murders and that of Felipe Calderón (2006-2012) counted 120,000 murders.

The widespread crime waves have at times had a direct impact on the clergy. For example, in 2022, two Jesuit priests, Father Dr. Javier Campos, 79, and Fr. Joaquín Mora, 80, were murdered in Chihuahua by a local criminal. They worked in an indigenous community in the mountains, an area said to be on a drug trafficking route to the United States.

After the murder of these priests, the Mexican Church launched a comprehensive peace process that involved hundreds of non-governmental organizations, officials and intellectuals in a national dialogue against violence. Deep sociopolitical changes have been proposed to bring about peace, and such proposals were shared with presidential candidates earlier this year – including current President Claudia Sheinbaum.

Part of these efforts have at times included the direct involvement of church members in crisis mediation. Br. José Filiberto Velázquez, head of the Minerva Bello Human Rights Center in Guerrero state, which supports victims of violence and their families, was one of the priests on the front lines.

For example, Velázquez told NCR that in February he managed to facilitate a direct phone call between two drug lords in Chilpancingo, after 10 days of terror in the city caused by the conflict between two cartels. At least seven bus drivers were attacked and killed by criminals and people avoided leaving their homes for over a week. With the priests’ mediation, the cartels decided to exclude the population from their dispute and peace was restored.

This attempt can be extremely dangerous. Velásquez has been threatened several times and his car was hit by bullets last year.

“Any person who in any way disrupts those who hold political, economic or armed power is at risk, especially those who defend human rights, the environment or indigenous people,” he told NCR.

“Such things happen here in Mexico, in Africa as a whole and in every other part of the world that is viewed by imperialist nations as merely a reserve of wealth,” he added.

Since Pérez’s assassination, the indigenous people of Chiapas have organized several processions and marches. They demand justice and promise that his death will not be forgotten.

“They thought they would silence us by taking out our head, which was Father Marcelo. But they killed the wrong person. He was the one who woke us up and now we are not giving up this fight,” said Vasquez Luna.

She said most people feared that Pérez would be detained by the government on false accusations that he was the leader of the local self-defense militia. Many communities are ready to stage large protests for his release, she added.

“We knew he faced multiple risks, but there was nothing we could do. He gave his life for us. We who have lived with him know and feel that he is a saint. Maybe one day the Church will canonize him, if not.” “For us he is already St. Marcelo,” she said.