Who killed 13-year-old José Luis Tehuatle?
The death of a boy at a protest in Mexico is pitting the regional government against the people
Three kids are standing on the street, arguing passionately as they share a snack of spicy corn chips. “Tear gas, billy club, shields,” they say. The kids are talking about the one topic of conversation in San Bernardino Chalchihuapan, a town in the state of Puebla, central Mexico: the demonstration against the relocation of the civil registry office that shut down the highway on July 9. The roadblock would have been just another protest if José Luis Tehuatle, an indigenous 13-year-old boy, had not died 10 days after getting hit in the head.
Authorities in Puebla lean on a law that allows the use of force to break up protests. Now, this town and the regional government have been accusing each other for weeks.
Force is the last resort but for people like Governor Moreno Valle it is the first and only option”
Jesús Robles, activist
“We are sad and angry,” says Antonio, an 11-year-old boy who knew José Luis because he has classes with the dead boy’s three sisters. Another boy knew José Luis from catechism classes. Local residents have been reviewing YouTube videos shot on the day of the demonstration. They show the pitched battle between the police and protestors. The officers opened tear gas and the demonstrators fought back with stones and firecrackers. “We were only defending ourselves from the government,” says Jesús. His 21-year-old cousin had to go to the hospital after he was struck by a police rubber bullet.
The name Chalchihuapan comes from the Aztec language, Nahuatl. It means “place where there are rocks.” A few quarries at the entrance of town confirm the findings of the ancient Mexicans. Besides the quarries, this modest town, located a little over two hours from the nation’s capital, grows corn and other crops at the foot of a hillock.
Town walls are covered with graffiti blaming Puebla Governor Rafael Moreno Valle and his administration for the incident.
“The child was not at the demonstration. A stray bullet killed him,” says Rolando, a vendor who sells vegetables at the Chalchihuapan market. His booth is in front of the state government’s local office building. A gigantic poster of José Luis with his face covered in blood hangs from the second floor. A message next to the photo reads: “Moreno Valle, murderer! You killed a child with rubber bullets.”
The main issue in the debate is the use of this particular kind of munition. Puebla State Attorney General Víctor Carrancá said the police do not use rubber bullets. Chalchihuapan residents, however, have shown the press photos of tear gas cans and plastic shells they picked up after the skirmishes. The government says protestors attacked first and that the boy died in a blast after some demonstrators launched a rocket at the police. Locals, on the other hand, say it was a rubber bullet. “If it had been a huge rocket, it would have blown his head off,” Rolando says.
In May, Governor Moreno Valle sent a proposal to lawmakers that would redefine legitimate use of force. He called for the police to be allowed to use firearms and non-lethal weapons during protests. The state legislature approved the measure without opposition but toned down the language of the text to pacify critical NGOs. Authorities admitted that the police used tear gas to disperse the crowd in Chalchihuapan. The so-called “Ley Bala” provides for the use of “non-lethal weapons,” including truncheons, chemical agents, electronic and stun devices, but it does not say what specific instruments may be used.
In the wake of the Chalchihuapan incident, Governor Moreno Valle asked Congress to repeal the law and to replace it with another that makes more specific provisions for police action during demonstrations. These changes, however, are still pending.
Over at José Luis’ house, nine women are preparing corn tortillas to share with those coming to pray in observance of the nine days of mourning. His mother, Elia Tamayo, curses the violence that took away her only “little man” in the house. “How was it the child’s fault? He was innocent,” she says while hugging a picture of José Luis taken on the day of his confirmation. Now, it’s just Elia and her three daughters. As she cries, she thanks the Chalchihuapan emigrants to the United States for sending money to help her during this tragedy.
On the day he died, José Luis had dropped in at home to change his clothes and help his mother in the field. Elia says her son was not taking part in the protest. The Puebla government, however, published various photos of a youth dressed in an orange shirt and jeans – the same outfit José Luis was wearing that day. In the pictures, the young protestor is holding a poster and standing in a crowd blocking the highway.
The child was not at the demonstration. A stray bullet killed him”
Chalchihuapan resident
José Luis’ grandmother says the authorities have pressured them. “The doctor asked me to sign some papers when my grandchild died but I said no because I don’t know how to read,” she says in broken Spanish.
The death certificate says the boy died of a “fracture to the skull caused by physical trauma.” Images of the autopsy released to EL PAÍS show that the boy did not suffer burns on his head or hair. Authorities say they did not find any powder traces on the body.
The National Commission on Human Rights (CNDH) has opened an investigation into what happened on the morning of July 9. Members of the organization visited Puebla and interviewed witnesses. Their inquiries may shed some light on the controversy.
Translation: Dyane Jean François
A controversial figure
Rafael Moreno Valle became governor of Puebla in 2011 after running for election on the Puebla Unida ticket. Puebla Unida was a coalition that brought together four political groups of conflicting ideologies. The only large party that did not support him was the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI). He had left the PRI and then tried to climb the ladder of the right-wing National Action Party (PAN). His close relationship with the former leader of the teachers' union, Elba Esther "La Maestra" Gordillo, helped his political career even though she eventually fell from grace in 2013 after being convicted of embezzling millions in union funds. Until then, the union's backing guaranteed a good number of votes for Moreno Valle. Finally, Mexico's largest leftist organization, the Party of Democratic Revolution (PRD), joined the coalition to create a group with no clear collective identity and the sole purpose of defeating the PRI.
Shortly after taking office, the governor began to show his real colors. Protocol personnel sent a set of guidelines to party organizers in Tehuacán that, among other things, asked photographers to only take pictures from one angle. The guidelines also prohibited women from asking the governor to dance as per tradition and reduced his contact with people to a minimum. The notes surprised residents in a state where traditions run deep and 11 percent of the population is of indigenous descent.
The governor is careful about how he appears in the local and national press. Some publications say they received requests to sign publicity agreements that would compromise their editorial independence. Photojournalists cannot, for instance, point their cameras at Moreno Valle's helicopter, which he often uses to travel to Mexico City.
After three years in office, the governor has made it clear that he intends to run for president in 2018. He, however, draws some negative opinions. While members of the parties in his coalition acknowledge his work and intelligence, they often say he is "authoritarian." "He has managed to gain control of the parties and of Congress," says Roxana Luna, a PRD deputy. "He acts with total impunity and without any check or balance. He has also managed to control and silence many leaders in our society."
Moreno Valle’s administration is known for its lack of transparency over public works spending and entertainment in the state capital while, according to a report from the government’s social policy office, Puebla remains third on the list of the nation’s poorest provinces.
