Mexican journalists are still being failed

Murdered journalists in Mexico

People march in the streets of Mexico to protest the death of journalist and photographer Rubén Espinosa, killed in Mexico City in 2015. Photo: Eneasmx/wikimedia commons

Mexico has long been a ruthless place for journalists and press freedom. According to the international human rights organisation Article 19, 156 journalists have been murdered in Mexico since 2000. Of the total, 144 were men and 12 were women. In April 2017, the journalist Duncan Tucker revealed in Index on Censorship magazine that it was really common for the newsrooms of local media to have drug cartel spies and informants infiltrated as staff members. Threats from corrupt government officials were also a daily problem for the Mexican press.

“Without a drastic change, Mexico and its journalists will face an even bleaker future,” Tucker wrote. Sadly, five years on this drastic change has not arrived in Mexico. Eleven journalists have lost their lives so far this year in the country due to their work. The most recent example is Juan Arjón López, who was killed with a blow to his head in the state of Sonora, in August.

One of the most dangerous regions for journalists in Mexico is the state of Veracruz: between December 2010 and November 2016, when Javier Duarte was governor of the state, 18 journalists were killed. A well-known case was the death of Regina Martínez Pérez, a journalist who investigated corruption in Veracruz and its connection with drug cartels. Her body was found in her flat on 28 April 2012, strangled to death. Four years later, Duarte resigned as governor following a series of corruption scandals, which led to a nine-year sentence in jail.

To understand more about this situation, Index talked to Mexican journalist Témoris Grecko, who currently lives in Mexico City and is a columnist for Aristegui Notícias, and a contributor to other media including Milenio Daily, La Octava TV and Rompeciento TV. In 2020 Grecko’s book, Killing the Story: Journalists risking their lives to uncover the truth in Mexico, was published.

Drug cartels seem to be a massive threat across Mexico. What is the relationship between them and the government or public officials?

The first thing I’d like to point out is that there is a bit of a myth regarding narco-trafficking in Mexico. Of course, it exists and there are many criminal gangs, but it’s not to be blamed for everything and that’s what happens. If a woman is killed or a journalist is killed, or something terrible happens, you can’t only blame the narco-trafficking and that’s it. And the narcos serve to mask many other activities. Many of the gangs are secondarily dedicated to narco-trafficking. Maybe they are in different kinds of smuggling, or they are doing illegal logging. Narcos are believed to be opposed to the government, but the real international mafias are in many governments, criminal gangs are usually related to people who work in the government, either in the Mexican government or the American. And in this way, the narcos need to be blamed for what happens to journalists of course, but organisations that are working with freedom of speech, such as Reporters Without Borders (RSF) and the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ), have collected data that shows that most aggressions are coming from official figures, maybe from politicians, political parties, police, the army or other authorities.

What kind of story can be the most dangerous one for journalists to work on?

There is crime-related journalism. But also, journalists who are exposing activities from mega companies. Maybe mining or logging companies or companies who are doing labour exploitation, and of course activities of politicians. For instance, we suspect Rubén Espinosa [who worked for the investigative magazine Proseco], a photographer murdered in 2015 in Mexico City, was killed by people linked to the then governor of the state of Veracruz, Javier Duarte. And this is because he felt very uncomfortable with some of the pictures that Rubén had published, that didn’t show Duarte in the life he wanted to be seen [the best example is a photo that Espinosa took for the left-wing news magazine Proceso, which showed Duarte’s white shirt with his name embroidered on it and a police cap written “Governor”]. And there have been journalists obviously murdered by criminal gangs, such as Javier Valdez [who became known for covering drug cartels], killed in 2017 in the state of Sinaloa.

Is there a particular region in Mexico that you consider the most dangerous for journalists?

By far the state of Veracruz. Two-thirds of the killings have happened there since 2010 and then there are other very dangerous states, such as Sinaloa, Guajaca and Tamaulipas. But sometimes it is not only about killings, but other types of aggression. For instance, maybe in the state of Tamaulipas they don’t kill so many journalists, but they are regularly beaten up or threatened. Persecuted somehow. Tamaulipas is the best example of what we call a silence zone. A place where politicians and criminal gangs control the news. They have people that we call ‘enlaces, who work as press officers for these powerful people. And they are in touch with the journalists to tell them what can be published and what cannot. And also they suggest, which is actually an imposition, some news or photographs that they want to see published.

Have you ever been threatened due to your work as a journalist in Mexico City?

Not in Mexico. While working in the Middle East, Africa and Asia, yes [Grecko has covered conflicts in places like Libya, Egypt, Iran, Syria, Palestine, Congo and The Phillippines], but not in Mexico.

How do you manage to keep yourself safe in this ruthless environment?

First of all, there is a massive difference between living in the capital and other states. With my team and my crew, when we go to work in risky states, we have security protocols which include making sure our sources are safe, using secure communication channels, and studying entry and exit ways. We monitor each other. We try to spend the least possible time there. We don’t really tell anyone what we are doing. We are also very careful in trying to keep our sources safe. And in my case, as a more public person, exposure should be a bit of a shield to protect, even if it’s never enough.           

What do you believe could be done to overcome this situation and make Mexico a safer place for journalists?

There are different initiatives. For twelve years we’ve had a mechanism for the protection of human rights defenders and journalists [called The Special Prosecutor For Attention to Crimes Committed against Freedom of Expression, or Feadle in Spanish, it was created in 2010 to tackle the increase in attacks, particularly murders, against journalists and its measures have included panic buttons for threatened journalists, installed security cameras at their homes and bodyguards in extreme situations]. This has saved some lives and protected some people, but also has had very resounding failures. Also, the problem with this mechanism is that it shouldn’t exist. It is needed due to Mexican justice’s failure to take the aggressors of journalists to accountability. What we really need is that the justice system and prosecutors really go after those who are committing these aggressions, and these crimes and take them to jail. I think that less than 1% of crimes committed against journalists in Mexico are actually punished, meaning that the potential aggressors have no deterrent. And they know that they can get away with it. This is something that encourages them to perpetrate these crimes. The Special Prosecutor For Attention to Crimes Committed against Freedom of Expression and its office is more of a problem for us than a help. They rarely do their most basic work. Only when there’s great public or political interest putting pressure on them. They tend to dismiss the journalistic work of a victim as a cause of the crime and tend to suggest sexual or romantic causes instead. They need to remove everyone from the head of the Office and try to rebuild it from scratch. And put people there who are professional and who really want to do their jobs. What they are actually doing is making life more difficult for journalists.

Have you ever thought of leaving the country for good?

I’ve lived in several countries due to work. But no, I don’t feel personally threatened in Mexico. I could leave at any time, but this is not something that obscures my daily life. I’m fine with that. In Mexico City journalists have a privilege. It shouldn’t be like this, but we have the privilege of security. There are other things threatening us here, other ways of hurting us here. Photographers who cover street protests, for example, have a degree of risk. But we have to use this privilege to focus on the journalists working in risky and dangerous areas. In this century in which so many journalists have been killed in Mexico, only one was in Mexico City [Rubén Espinosa], but it was a crime linked to the state of Veracruz. He came to Mexico City to find refuge here, but sadly they came after him.

Nominees for the 2022 Freedom of Expression Awards – Arts

Yemeni artist Thiyazen Al-Alawi uses his craft to shed light on the destructive situation in Yemen through street art campaigns. He hopes to inform the public of what the war has done to his homeland.

First inspired by the Arab Spring in 2011 as a teenager, Thiyazen turned to art as a form of self expression, launching his first street art campaign in 2012 as the war began. As conflict invaded every aspect of Yemeni life, he decided “every artwork is proof of their existence and continuity in life…something that gives people hope.” Thiyazen’s work aims to reflect the ugliest and truest forms of war, and its effect on real people.

Thiyazen’s latest project is a collaboration with British artist Luc Waring titled “Letters from Yemen”, a series of drawings and letters from conversations between the two about art, peace, war, and the horrors Thiyazen has witnessed himself. Inspired by a saying Thiyazen heard in his youth, the walls must do the talking when the newspapers are silent; the compiled writings and portraits raise awareness about the war in Yemen with a sensitivity and humanity only an artist and their medium can produce, eventually gaining traction and attention by the public. Due to the ongoing occupation by the Houthi militia, Thiyazen is risking his own safety as he continues to produce art.  

Thiyazen continues his work on long-term projects with the Swiss Arts Council to spread awareness about the conditions in Yemen. He also contributes to the “Yemen Peace Forum” with the Sana’a Center for Strategic Studies, writing articles and studies like “Art and Youth in Yemen” in the Journal of Transitional Justice of the University of Oxford. “I feel that I must tell the truth no matter what,” Thiyazen explains,” I could sacrifice my life for the truth. And nothing will stop me.”

Moe Moussa is a journalist, podcaster, poet, and the founder of the Gaza Poet Society. He uses various forums and mediums to amplify the voices of Palestinians.

Moe began his career as a translator for international journalists in 2014. He was soon inspired to speak about the situation from his own perspective. Studying English literature in college and growing up around poetry, it was only fitting that Moe decided to use his art to bring the individual lives of people in Gaza to the international audience.

Delving into Palestinian poetry led Moe to connect online with poets all over the world. He was interested in using his skills as a poet and a journalist to share the stories of individual lives with a global audience. After realising the lack of opportunities for poets to share their work in Arabic and English, he created a space to offer an opportunity for young people to speak and find their own voice in 2018 – the Gaza Poet Society. The organisation is supported solely by donations from international poets who believe in Moe’s cause. He is at constant risk of Hamas censorship and at the will of the Gazan government to approve of civilian movement out of the country. 

Watching his family go days without water, power, and freedom of movement, Moe temporarily left Gaza for Istanbul in 2021 to continue his work more effectively. He was awarded the Times Richard Beeston Bursary in 2019 and has plans to complete his fellowship in London in 2022 following delays due to the pandemic. As the creator and host of the podcast “Gaza Guy”, he is focused on amplifying the voices of young Palestinians through poetry and fights for access to education in Gaza. Additionally, Moe has contributed to We Are Not Numbers, a site publishing stories of Palestiniain youth experiencing war. Moe recently released his debut poetry collection titled “Flamingo” and is working freelance to support the Gaza Poet Society from abroad.

Fatoş İrwen is a Kurdish artist and teacher from Diyarbakır, Turkey working with a variety of materials and techniques.

İrwen regularly uses her art to document her experiences as a Kurdish woman living in Turkey. The performance piece Füg [Fugue, 2012] documented her first experiences in police custody where she was physically and sexually abused. In 2016 İrwen was again taken into custody while boarding a domestic flight. She was charged with “resisting the police, opposition to the law against demonstrations and assemblies, propaganda for a terrorist organisation, belonging to a terrorist organisation” and sentenced to 3 years, 1 month and 15 days in prison. The charges related to a peaceful protest in 2013. 

During her imprisonment, İrwen made 1,500 works of art using materials accessible to her, including hair, tea, food, shoe polish, old textbooks and newspapers, bed sheets, laundry pegs, scarves, and mould and cigarette ashes. Among other projects, the 2019 piece titled “Gülleler” (Cannonballs) features balls crafted from the hair of inmates participating in a hunger strike. “The hunger strike was like firing a shot to the outside world,” İrwen says. After being released, İrwen collected her art pieces in her first solo exhibition titled Exceptional times which was featured at Depo in Istanbul in 2021. 

Discussing censorship by the Turkish authorities, İrwen says “this issue still continues to be the most painful issue of our lives and for which we pay a heavy price.” She is deeply committed to fighting for freedom of expression and artistic freedom. 

Due to her challenges with Turkish authorities and her identity as a Kurdish woman, İrwen has found that galleries and art spaces are sometimes reluctant to feature her work. Still, she has found success, and her work has been exhibited in Iran, Germany, Austria, Hong Kong, Iceland, France, Mexico, Iran, Morocco, Sweden, and Turkey.

Hamlet Lavastida has been described as a political activist by way of art. Lavastida uses his art to document human rights abuses in Cuba and to criticise Cuban authorities.

Lavastida pushes boundaries of censorship in Cuba and highlights the distinctly Cuban spirit of cultural resistance. His work reconstructs old Cuban political and military propaganda.

Throughout his career, Lavastida has sought to use his art to fight for transparency and freedom of speech in order to fight against the Cuban government. He sees his art as a non-violent tool to fight against the current regime. Lavastida has been involved in various protest movements in Cuba, including the 27N movement which grew out of the protests held on 27 November 2020. The movement works to bring attention to the censorship of artistic expressions in Cuba. 

In June 2021, Lavastida was arrested after returning from a residency at the Künstlerhaus Bethanien in Berlin. He was accused of ‘incitement to commit a crime’ because he suggested that other artists stamp images related to the San Isidro and 27N movements on local currency. Following his arrest, Amnesty International named him as a ‘prisoner of conscience’. Lavastida stayed in prison for 87 days. He was finally released without charges. 

Lavastida has been living in exile in Europe since September 2021. He has been warned that he will be arrested immediately if he ever tries to return to Cuba. Lavastida is deeply concerned by the situation. While has experienced threats and censorship targeting his art throughout his career, he is now experiencing threats against him as an individual. He believes this is part of a greater trend of censorship in Cuba. 

Lavastida plans to continue creating art and speaking up about the situation in Cuba.

Another deadly year for journalists

Al Jazeera journalist Shireen Abu Akleh

This week I was planning to write about the Queen’s speech, delivered this week by HRH Prince Charles, as the British Parliament began its new parliamentary session and the Government outlined it parliamentary priorities.  There are now six proposed pieces of legislation by the British Government that will impact our collective rights to both freedom of expression and privacy in the United Kingdom.  But my views on the ideological incoherence of the Government’s approach to freedom of expression will have to wait until next week.

Because today we mourn the death of another journalist.  On Wednesday, Shireen Abu Akleh, a well-known and well regarded Palestinian-American journalist was killed while doing her job in Jenin.

According to Committee for the Protection of Journalists (CPJ) Shireen is the 17th journalist to have been killed in the line of duty in 2022.  Index has fought to defend the rights of journalists for over fifty years.  Every attack on a journalist is an effort to stop people speaking truth to power.  It’s an attempt to quash dissent and to impose a single world view.  And every death seeks to silence not just the voice of journalists but through them the voices of all of us.  We cannot allow those who seek to repress their populations to win.

Today our thoughts and prayers are with Shireen’s family and loved ones.  And as much as we mourn her today, we remember and honour the work and sacrifices made by her, her family and the sixteen other journalists who have lost their lives in 2022.

6 January – John Wesley Amady, Haiti

6 January – Wilguens Louis-Saint, Haiti

9 January – Pu Tuidim, Myanmar

17 January – Alfonso Margarito Martinez Esquivel, Mexico

5 February – Rohit Biswal, India

9 February – Evariste Djailoramdji, Chad

10 February – Heber Lopez Vasquez, Mexico

23 February – Maximilien Lazard, Haiti

1 March – Yevhenii Sakun, Ukraine

13 March – Brent Renaud, Ukraine

13 March-1 April – Maks Levin, Ukraine

14 March – Oleksandra Kuvshynova, Ukraine

14 March – Pierre Zakrzewski, Ukraine

15 March – Armando Linares Lopez, Mexico

23 March – Oksana Baulina, Ukraine

Late March – 2 April – Mantas Kvedaravicius, Ukraine

11 May – Shireen Abu Akleh, Occupied Palestinian Territory

Each of these brave journalists needs to be remembered and celebrated for their work and their sacrifice.  And their families need and deserve both the truth and, most importantly, justice.

Will athletes risk the wrath of Beijing to stand up for human rights?

Athlete protest has been almost as common a feature of the Olympic Games as elite sporting achievement since its modern inception at the turn of the 20th century.

At the 1906 Games, Irish triple jumper Peter O’Connor protested his registration as a British athlete – Ireland did not have a national Olympic committee at the time – by scaling the flagpole during the award ceremony and waving an Irish flag.

The official recognition of the Games as a platform for protest happened in 1955 when then president of the International Olympic Committee (IOC) Avery Brundage wrote guidelines into the Olympic bylaws. These stated that Olympic host cities had to ensure “no political demonstrations will be held in the stadium or other sport grounds, or in the Olympic Village, during the Games, and that it is not the intention to use the Games for any other purpose than for the advancement of the Olympic Movement”.

This did not stop perhaps the best known of all Olympic protests – the Black Power demonstrations at the 1968 Mexico Olympics when American 200-metre athletes John Carlos and Tommie Smith raised their gloved hands in salute during the US national anthem.

Further changes to athletes’ rights to express themselves were codified in a 1975 update to the Olympic Charter in rule 55, which simply said, “Every kind of demonstration or propaganda, whether political, religious or racial, in the Olympic areas is forbidden”.

The IOC has since moved away from this total ban and now declares itself to be “fully supportive of freedom of expression”.

And yet the most recent version of the rule on athlete expression, now known as Rule 50, state that “no kind of demonstration or political, religious or racial propaganda is permitted in any Olympic sites, venues or other areas”. It does though allow for expressing views outside Olympic sites and venues or before and after the Games. Athletes are also permitted to express their views in press conferences, during interviews and through their own social media channels.

In 2020 IOC member Dick Pound wrote: “Everyone has the right to political opinion and the freedom to express such opinions. The IOC fully agrees with that principle and has made it absolutely clear that athletes remain free to express their opinions in press conferences, in media interviews and on social media. But, in a free society, rights may come with certain limitations. Rule 50 restricts the occasions and places for the exercise of such rights. It does not impinge on the rights themselves.”

Athletes recognised just how much of a platform the games give them to express themselves, particularly with the global, 24-hour coverage afforded to it in modern times. As a result, they’ve always pushed back against bans.  For example, at the delayed 2020 Tokyo Olympics, many athletes and teams took the knee in support of the Black Lives Matter movement within Olympic venues.

So what can we expect from Beijing?

When China last hosted the Olympics in Beijing in 2008, it was a dramatically different country. One continuity was the human rights situation and there were protests organised by activists about human rights abuses in Tibet during those Games. Athletes however kept quiet.

A huge amount has changed in the 14 years since the 2008 Beijing Olympics. Athletes may feel very tempted to speak out. The wider world has been made aware of the Uyghur genocide, involving sterilisation, forced education in detention centres, the disappearance of activists and threats around the world against those who do speak out on the atrocities.

China has also cracked down in Hong Kong, effectively ending the one country, two systems policy. It has introduced the national security law, closed down independent media outlets and jailed political opponents.

Meanwhile, its other abuses – such as those in Tibet – have not gone away. Nor has concern over Chinese tennis star Peng Shuai, who disappeared late last year after she accused a top official of sexual misconduct.

At the Australian Open in January, athletes did use their platform to speak out about Peng Shuai. It would stand to reason the same would happen in Beijing. And yet China is not Australia.

While the rules governing freedom of expression at the Games have been loosened in the wake of athlete protests, Chinese officials have done little to ease concerns over athletes expressing themselves in Beijing. In mid-January, the deputy director of the Beijing organising committee Yang Shu said that “Any expression that is in line with the Olympic spirit I’m sure will be protected.” She then added, “Any behaviour or speech that is against the Olympic spirit, especially against the Chinese laws and regulations, are also subject to certain punishment.”

Basically, speak out and risk prison. It’s a high price to pay.

Then there’s the question of technology. Unlike 2008 when social media was in its infancy, China will be very worried about the potential for protest to reach a much wider audience than before. Anyone making comments on social media from inside the country will be required to communicate with the world through Chinese telecoms companies.

In December, VOA News reported that China has committed to switch off its Great Firewall for athletes and accredited media in the Olympic Village, competition and noncompetition venues, and contracted media hotels.

Just because the Firewall is being relaxed does not mean what athletes say over social media is not being monitored.

One particular concern for athletes at the Games is the requirement to download an app called MY2022 before arriving in China. The app is ostensibly there to maintain a closed loop system relating to Covid measures. However, researchers at Canada’s Citizen Lab says the app is not secure, leading a number of national Olympic committees, including the USA, Canada, the Netherlands and the UK, to advise their athletes to leave their personal devices at home.

In a statement shared with athletes, Canada’s national committee wrote, “We’ve reminded all Team Canada members that the Olympic Games present a unique opportunity for cybercrime and recommended that they be extra diligent at Games, including considering leaving personal devices at home, limiting personal information stored on devices brought to the Games, and to practice good cyber-hygiene at all times.”

The app also has a number of other features beyond health, such as AI-powered translation and weather, and real-time messaging and audio. Citizen Lab says it also includes features that allow users to report “politically sensitive” content while the Android version includes a censorship keyword list.

The organisation said, “We discovered a file named illegalwords.txt which contains a list of 2,442 keywords generally considered politically sensitive in China. However, despite its inclusion in the app, we were unable to find any functionality where these keywords were used to perform censorship. It is unclear whether this keyword list is entirely inactive, and, if so, whether the list is inactive intentionally.”

The list includes terms such as Xi Jinping, Tiananmen riot, Dalai Lama, Xinjiang and forced demolition. Citizen Lab says that many of the terms are in Uyghur or Tibetan scripts, something that is “not common” in other censored apps such as WeChat and YY.

It is highly likely that one or more principled athletes will use the Beijing Games to make a stand over Xinjiang, Tibet or Hong Kong. The question is whether, with the world watching, China will dare to take them to task.

CCP censorship extends well beyond the Olympic Games, including the targeting of Chinese minorities overseas. Index has investigated the extent to which the Chinese government is using its technological and economic leverage, combined with cultural and diplomatic networks, to intimidate, silence, and discredit Uyghurs in Europe. The report – China’s Long Arm: How Uyghurs are being Silenced in Europe – will be published on 10 February 2022. 

Get a free ticket to the launch event here, titled Banned By Beijing: How can Europe stand up for Uyghurs? After the event, check out our website’s Banned By Beijing page to read the report.”