Malak Afifi
Political Anthropology
Easter Term, 2024
Cambridge Journal of Political Affairs, 5(1), pp. 152-165

Introduction

In the shadow of the Mexico-US border lies Ciudad Juárez, a city that has become synonymous with a deeply troubling and persistent issue: femicide. Femicide, the targeted killing of women due to their gender, has plagued Mexico for decades. Ciudad Juárez, with its complex economic, social, and political landscape, stands as a stark case study in the global struggle against gender-based violence.

To comprehend the severity of femicide in Ciudad Juárez, one must situate it within the broader context of gender-based violence in Latin America. The region has long grappled with deeply entrenched gender hierarchies and systemic inequalities. The intersections of race, class, and gender create a complex matrix of oppression, exposing women, particularly those from marginalised communities, to heightened vulnerability. Understanding femicide in Ciudad Juárez necessitates an exploration of the broader dynamics shaping gender relations in Latin America.

This paper seeks to explore the intricate layers of femicide in Ciudad Juárez, with a specific focus on its racial, political, and systemic dimensions. Specifically, the paper contends that systemic structures – in particular, the maquiladora industry and the increased militarisation of the region since the beginning of the ‘War on Drugs’ – perpetuate violence against indigenous and mestizo women, contributing to a feminicide epidemic.

The structure of this paper’s design provides a comprehensive understanding of the issue. The paper begins by delving into the historical context of Ciudad Juárez as a border city, in addition to understanding the historical marginalisation of indigenous and lower-class mestizas. Subsequently, the paper focuses on the difference between femicide and feminicide. Next, this study pivots to examine the maquiladora industry (foreign-owned manufacturing plants that produce goods for export) and its ties to the feminicide epidemic. Finally, the paper will analyse the political landscape, particularly the impact of the increased militarisation following the start of the ‘War on Drugs’ in Mexico and broader systemic failures that hinder the eradication of femicide.

Historical Context and Definitions

Ciudad Juárez as a Border City

To understand the racial and political aspects of femicide in Ciudad Juárez, one must delve into the historical context of the city as a borderland shaped by rapid development and industrialisation. The growth of Ciudad Juárez, particularly during the latter half of the twentieth century, is closely tied to the establishment of maquiladoras — foreign-owned factories primarily situated along the Mexico-US border. While contributing to economic development, this industrialisation has profoundly affected the city’s social fabric. The maquiladora industry’s expansion attracted a significant influx of migrant workers, primarily from southern Mexican states and rural areas (Arriola 2010, 26). The intersection of rapid industrialisation, migration patterns, and economic disparities has laid the foundation for a complex web of social issues, contributing to the marginalisation of certain racial and ethnic groups within the city.

Ulla D. Berg’s (2015) work, in a larger context, touches on what it means to be a migrant and the sacrifices people make for the sake of upward mobility, to improve their lives, and for a sense of belonging in a community that continuously ostracises them. Her ethnographic work on Andean Peruvian migration sheds light on the systems of oppression that prevent mobility. For Berg, mobility entails a body’s ability to circulate without many obstacles, without raising suspicion or being viewed as a threat (Berg 2015, 3). In Peru, class division t, which are intertwined with race, hinder Andean Indians from moving about freely within the country. Policies in urban centres limit women’s social mobility and their ability to improve their situation.. When they move to the US, women are racialised, identified as Latinos, effectively erasing their Peruvian identities and heterogeneity.

Similarly, the women who move to Ciudad Juárez hope to improve their situations but encounter many obstacles. Mexico’s agricultural policies have pushed many indigenous peoples to migrate to urban areas. With the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) signed in 1994, the country switched to a free trade model, effectively pushing out small-scale farmers and reducing the need for domestic agriculture (Pacheco 2023, 266). Many moved and relocated with the shift to a neoliberal economic model and the promise of more.

Specifically, women and youths typically migrated for wage labour in Mexico or the US (Pacheco 2023, 266). In addition to the economic factors pushing migration, there is a gendered and racialised component to it as well. As Raquel Pacheco’s (2023) work highlights,the neoliberal policies set forth by the adoption of NAFTA exacerbated profound gender and racial inequalities As aforementioned, it is primarily women and youths who migrate, and unfortunately, ‘the victims [of femicides] have been poor girls and women of colour from the colonias, many of them recent migrants to the border city from urban and rural communities in Mexico’s interior’ (Camacho 2005, 259). The colonias are ‘poorly served shanty towns that sprang up in the desert and hills southwest of Juárez’ (Volk and Schlotterbeck 2010, 129). In addition to the victims being from colonias, they are also typically displaced or transnational migrants (Camacho 2005, 265). The fact that they are displaced or transnational ties back to Berg’s discussion of mobility. Indeed, these women and girls whose lives end violently have their mobility dictated and determined by systems they have no control over. NAFTA and the Mexican government’s shift away from agriculture targets a particular and racialised minority, not the urban elite, for instance. In understanding the femicide epidemic in Juárez, one must recognise what leads those women to leave their homes behind in the first place.

Historical Marginalisation of Indigenous and Mestizo Lower-Class People

Contextualising what leads to migration to the border city elucidates one part of the puzzle; looking at the historical emergence of mestizaje and defining what it means to be indigenous or mestizo in Mexico is imperative. Virginia Tilley (2004) explains the historical emergence of mestizaje across Latin America and its consequences for indigenous peoples. She contends that, unlike other Latin American countries, Mexico’s heavily indigenous demographics led to ‘an ostensibly enlightened ethnic pluralism’ (Tilley 2004, 65). However, this pluralism, in promoting the mixing of races (based on phenotype), overlooked those of indigenous and African descent. More importantly, ‘it abysmally failed to ameliorate enduring racial hierarchies, indigenous political marginalisation and poverty, and indigenous resentment’ (Tilley 2004, 65). NAFTA is, yet again, an example of how urban and political elites’ economic gains are more important than the lives of the indigenous and lower-class mestizas who end up having to move to cities, such as Ciudad Juárez, in the hopes of upward social mobility and improved living conditions. Women are met with the consequences of historical systems of oppression that prioritise a certain subset of the Mexican population.

Yásnaya Elena Aguilar Gil’s (2020) article supplements Tilley’s (2004) claims to give us a better understanding of indigeneity. She explains that the category of indigenous was created on a political and state-defined basis, but the reality is that there are no cultural commonalities between the different tribes (Aguilar Gil 2020). Thus, in addition to mestizaje in Mexico ostracising its indigenous demographics, the very category of indigenous and its reification is quite damaging as it disregards the differences in language, culture, and more among the different tribes. Rogers Brubaker (2004, 79) explores this notion of categorising race in his work. He explains, ‘race, ethnicity, and nationality exist only in and through our perceptions, interpretations, representations, classifications, categorisations, and identifications. They are not things in the world but perspectives on the world–not ontological but epistemological realities’ (Brubaker 2004, 79). This reification and classification created division, and homogenised racial, ethnic, and cultural groups, thus giving those in power the ability to continue their marginalisation of a subset of people based on those definitions.

As it pertains to the topic at hand, there is a lack of data on the racial profiles of the women reported – a direct result of the mestizaje myth that continues to shape the policies that the state continues to make. Instead, based on the existing literature about Juárez and what is known about the maquiladora industry, the assumption is made that the women living in this border city and facing the most extreme forms of violence are mestiza or indigenous. The existing literature does not attempt to explain and define either of those terms, focusing instead on the women’s conditions. One such author defines the maquiladora worker as someone with ‘little education or property and is a migrant from even poorer regions of the country’ (Arriola 2010, 26). By relying on Tilley (2004), Aguilar Gil (2020), and Brubaker (2004), we gain a more rounded understanding of the categories of mestizo and indigenous populations in Mexico. Though the current work in academia about Ciudad Juárez and femicides reifies the categories of mestizo and indigenous, what we can take away in no uncertain terms is that there are historical systems of oppression at the root of the vulnerable and violent positions in which femicide victims find themselves.Essentially, these definitions and this contextualisation better inform our understanding of Ciudad Juárez and shed light on the historical systems of oppression that permeate femicide and, specifically, feminicide.

From Femicide to Feminicide

The case of Ciudad Juárez is not one of femicide but rather one of feminicide. The distinction is that there is an institutional dimension to feminicide. According to Article 21 in the Ley General de Acceso de las Mujeres a una Vida Libre de Violencia (General Law on Women’s Access to a Life Free of Violence) as cited by EQUIS (2022, 37), feminicide ‘is the extreme form of gender violence against women, product of the violation of their human rights, in the public and private spheres, formed by the set of misogynistic behaviours that can lead to social and state impunity and can culminate in homicide and other forms of violent death of women’. Julia Estela Monárrez Fragoso (2019, 89) provides a more precise definition of feminicide as follows:

‘Systemic sexual femicide is the murder of a girl/woman committed by a man, where all the elements of the unequal relationship between the sexes are found: the generic superiority of men versus the generic subordination of women, misogyny, control, and sexism. It is not only the biological body of women that is murdered but also the cultural construction of their bodies, with the passivity and tolerance of a male-centric state. Systemic sexual femicide follows the irrefutable logic of the bodies of poor girls and women who have been kidnapped, tortured, raped, murdered, and thrown into sexually transgressive scenarios. The killers, through cruel acts, strengthen inequitable social gender relations that distinguish the sexes: otherness, difference, and inequality. At the same time, the state, seconded by hegemonic groups, reinforces patriarchal domination and subjects the victims’ families and all women to permanent and intense insecurity through a continuous and unlimited period of impunity and complicity by not punishing the perpetrators and not granting justice to the victims’.

Both definitions resonate deeply with the harrowing reality faced by women in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. They encapsulate the egregious nature of gender violence against women, emphasising the violation of their fundamental human rights across both public and private spheres. It is not merely an individual act but rather a product of systemic misogyny deeply ingrained in societal structures.

Kimberlé Crenshaw’s (1994) concept of intersectionality offers a lens through which we can understand the lethal dynamics at play in cases of feminicide in Ciudad Juárez. Crenshaw’s (1994, 96) framework acknowledges that individuals experience overlapping and intersecting forms of oppression based on various aspects of their identity, such as race, gender, class, and immigration status. In the context of Ciudad Juárez, indigenous and mestizo women often face compounded forms of oppression due to their gender and socio-economic status, further exacerbated by systemic racism and marginalisation. Moreover, the notion of state impunity mentioned in the definitions above underscores the complicity of institutional actors in perpetuating and enabling feminicide. The failure of the state to effectively address and prosecute cases of gender-based violence not only perpetuates a culture of impunity but also reinforces systemic inequalities and further endangers the lives of women. Moreover, in this city where the maquiladora industry thrives amidst a backdrop of increased militarisation and governmental neglect, the intersectional framework becomes particularly salient. The exploitation of female labourers in the maquiladoras, coupled with the militarisation of the region, creates a volatile environment where women are doubly vulnerable to gender-based violence.

Neoliberalism, the Maquiladora Industry, and Femicide

The Maquiladora Industry: The Gender and Economic Aspects

The rise of the maquiladora industry in Ciudad Juárez significantly altered the economic landscape of the region, shaping gender dynamics and contributing to the racialised nature of femicide. The maquiladoras, foreign-owned factories that primarily employ female workers, have been both a source of economic opportunity and a site of exploitation (Arriola 2010). Womenfrom indigenous and mestizo communities are particularly drawn to these factories for employment, lured by the promise of better economic prospects. However, the reality within the maquiladoras often involves precarious working conditions, low wages, and limited job security (Volk and Schlotterbeck 2010). The gendered nature of the maquiladora workforce creates an environment where women are particularly vulnerable to violence and discrimination. The intersection of gender and race compounds these vulnerabilities, as indigenous and mestizo women face a dual burden of economic marginalisation and systemic discrimination. Arriola (2010) discusses how ‘the ideal maquiladora worker was a hybrid of stereotypes based on sex, race, and class – she was not only more docile and passive than Mexican men, but submissive, easily trainable, and unlikely to pose problems with union organising’ (Arriola 2010, 31). Thus, the maquiladora industry not only reflects but also exacerbates traditional gender norms, perpetuating a culture of machismo where women are viewed as expendable, and their rights are routinely overlooked. Compounding this issue, ‘high levels of female employment, by challenging pervasive notions of the male as primary wage earner, added to a reservoir of male resentment against all women’ (Volk and Schlotterbeck 2010, 128), especially because it gave women more independence and gave them a place in the public sphere, outside the home.

Alejandra Leal’s (.d., 9) insights into neoliberalism further emphasise the entrenchment of inequality, social mobility foreclosure, and the stigmatisation of the non-elite. She contends that though neoliberalism has brought wealth to the urban elite, social mobility is inaccessible to most of the population (Leal .d., 9). Leal (.d., 9) adds that Mexico has ‘experienced an explosive growth of unemployment, precarious employment and the proliferation of so-called informality, especially in urban contexts, as well as a spectacular increase of insecurity and violence’. Juarense women and their violent murders are, unfortunately, a consequence of these neoliberal policies. Moreover, Camacho’s (2005, 262) analysis underscores how neoliberal reforms destabilised the relationship between the state and its subjects in Juárez, contributing to a contested and unstable environment during the city’s most dramatic growth. In essence, the maquiladora industry and neoliberal policies in Mexico have intertwined to perpetuate gender and racial disparities, reinforcing stereotypes and inequalities that endure in the face of economic transformations.

The transnational nature of the maquiladora industry connects Juárez to global economic forces (i.e., the activities of multinational companies), influencing the political landscape and shaping power dynamics within the city. That is to say, the political priorities of the state leverage the interests and priorities of the maquiladoras at the expense of the women working there, who are often brutalised. The economic dependence on foreign companies often results in a regulatory environment that prioritises the interests of these companies over the well-being of the local workforce (Arriola 2010, 54). Consequently, the maquiladora industry not only transforms the economic fabric of the city but also contributes to the racialised and gendered nature of violence against women. This is especially true during periods of depression since Juárez heavily relies on the health and success of the American economy. In 2008, when companies began relocating to China for even cheaper labour, thousands lost their jobs. In a patriarchal society such as Juárez, the women were scapegoated for ‘occupying ‘male’ positions in the wage economy’ (Volk and Schlotterbeck 2010, 131), leading to an increase in femicides and gender-based violence for something entirely out of their control.

On another level, the power dynamics inherent in these workplaces often contribute to a culture of silence and impunity, where perpetrators believe they can act without consequences. The complicity of both economic and political structures in perpetuating these conditions raises questions about the political will to address feminicide effectively. It prompts an exploration of the complicit role that political institutions might play in perpetuating a climate where violence against marginalised women becomes normalised, revealing the deeply entrenched political aspects of feminicide in Ciudad Juárez.

The ‘War on Drugs’ and Militarisation

Since the ‘War on Drugs’ was declared in 2006 by President Felipe Calderón, the militarisation of Ciudad Juárez has furthered the violence against women and contributed to the ongoing femicide crisis, especially in regions experiencing economic downturns, such as Ciudad Juárez. Indeed, ‘the use of firearms to murder women has skyrocketed’(EQUIS 2022, 10).

Intersecta, a Mexican feminist organisation, collected statistics on the number of women’s murders since 2006 and found that between 2006 and 2019, there was a 141 per cent increase (Intersecta 2021, 7). However, the way that women have been murdered since 2006 has also changed, with firearms being the primary weapon of choice (Intersecta 2021, 7).

The 2008 intervention by then-President Calderón, deploying 10,000 soldiers and federal police to curb cartel violence in Juárez, inadvertently unfolded a dark reality. Despite their purportedly unbiased stance against drug traffickers, these forces found themselves entangled in pervasive corruption within local law enforcement, leading to a further escalation of violence rather than its suppression. The women working in the maquiladoras and living in colonias are caught in the middle of this war. They work in unsafe conditions and are subjected to hours of labour for meagre wages in return. The increased presence of soldiers in the area does not add to their safety but rather detracts from it because women in Ciudad Juárez are objectified and commodified. Living in Ciudad Juarez, they are seen as a means to an end, and this often results in rape, torture, or feminicide (Eisenhammer 2014). Thus, in ‘a space of exclusion where inhabitants have been stripped of national belonging and human rights, violence has become the norm among the disenfranchised’ (Eisenhammer 2014, 107).

They are stripped of their national belonging because of the systems of oppression rejecting them, but also because the foreign-owned firms in Juárez are the ones defining the terms of employment. As it pertains to the issue of feminicide, women are vulnerable along multiple lines: they are ostracised by their own country through neoliberal policies, and by virtue of being women, they are scapegoated for the economic failures of a state that does not claim them and continuously erases their identity.

In another vein, the rampant impunity surrounding violent crimes not only diminishes the value of citizenship but also creates a pervasive climate where social bonds are eroded by collective fear (Camacho 2005, 256). In other words, being Mexican does not provide the

women of Juárez with any form of protection. If anything, the unique landscape of this border city turns these women into invisible objects, with no claim to the Mexican identity as the current state defines it–a state that prioritises its own gains and that of the elite over those of the majority who are stuck in a perpetual cycle of violence and poverty. They are erased from Mexican identity through the historical systems of oppression that persist to this day.

Eisenhammer (2014, 104), sheds light on the intricate web of factors contributing to femicide in Juárez, emphasising the social exclusion of impoverished migrant women, who, working in maquiladoras, become vulnerable and reduced to a state of homo sacer—individuals whose lives can be taken without fear of reprisals. Again, this ties back to the deeply entrenched gendered and racialised views held about these women, where foreign-owned companies only see them as a means to an end for the production of goods, and the Mexican government’s neoliberal policies subsequently pushed them into a higher state of vulnerability.Ultimately, the intersection of systemic impunity, social exclusion, and failed interventions perpetuate a dire situation in which the lives of women in Juárez remain precarious and justice elusive.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the case of feminicide in Ciudad Juárez stands as a stark illustration of the intricate interplay between racial dynamics, political structures, and systemic issues that contribute to the pervasive violence against women in the region.

The role of maquiladoras as economic entities central to the region cannot be overlooked. The exploitative labour practices within these foreign-owned factories amplify the economic vulnerability of women, making them more susceptible to violence. The connection between economic precarity and feminicide highlights the urgent need for comprehensive economic reforms that prioritise the well-being and empowerment of women in Ciudad Juárez.

The ‘War on Drugs’ ostensibly launched to combat organised crime has inadvertently exacerbated the climate of violence and impunity. Political impotence and corruption within the justice system have contributed to a climate of impunity where perpetrators of feminicide operate with near certainty of avoiding consequences.

Feminicide is something affecting all women in Mexico regardless of phenotype and racial categorisation. However, Mexico is a large country, and its unfortunate historical marginalisation of lower-class mestizas and indigenous women leaves them far more vulnerable to gender-based violence at disproportionate rates. As this essay has attempted to demonstrate, the issue at hand is a systemic and potentially even a racialised one, particularly in Ciudad Juárez. Ultimately, it is both historical and systemic processes leaving women vulnerable to such violent fates.