Photojournalist Ruben Espinosa could not contain his excitement on the morning of Feb. 16, 2014 when the new issue of “Proceso” hit the stands. That week, the investigative magazine featured a photo taken by Espinosa on its front-page cover.
He was ecstatic; he called his friends; his mother bought a stack. Today, Mexicans refer to that cover as the shot that cost Espinosa his life.
It was a portrait of Javier Duarte, governor of the state of Veracruz, with the headline “Veracruz Lawless state.” The photo accompanied an article about the killing of numerous journalists under Duarte’s governorship, and public officials’ failure to investigate.
The photo of Duarte—unflattering, with an angry expression, his shirt buttons straining to conceal his large figure, while wearing a hat with a law enforcement insignia—was the embodiment of the lazy and corrupt Mexican cop stereotype.
Manuel Buendía, a Mexican journalist murdered in 1984, once said that “criticism didn’t bother the powerful quite as much as being stripped naked with irony and a refined sense of humor.”
In the months that followed the cover story, Espinosa became the target of increasing threats and harassment. He was being followed, strangers waiting outside his home, taking photos of him. Last June he fled Veracruz and moved to Mexico City, a place generally considered a safe haven by journalists escaping violence in their home states.
On Saturday, Aug. 1, Espinosa was found dead, along with four women in an apartment in the nation’s capital. Three of the women lived in the apartment, and the fourth was a housekeeper. One of the women was Nadia Vera, a friend of Espinosa and a human rights activist, who had also fled Veracruz under threat.
All bodies had signs of torture, hands and feet bound with tape, and gunshot wounds to their heads. All of the women had been sexually assaulted.
The tragedy marks a new level of violence—even for Mexico: It is the first time a journalist has been murdered in the capital while in exile. There is no more safe haven, no more “Plan B.” Within Mexico’s borders there is nowhere left to run.
As reporters in the United States, we cannot continue to turn a blind eye simply because we are on the other side of a fence.
Intervention from the international community is the only option left; we cannot leave it up to a corrupt government to bring itself to justice. Mexico is now a completely lawless state where no one can tell where the cartels end and the government begins.
The organizations tasked with protecting media professionals are clearly incapable of doing so. For months Espinosa gave ample warnings of the threats he was experiencing, and only three weeks before his death he said during a televised interview that he feared for his life. The government didn’t lift a finger to protect him. Authorities quickly tried to label the motive for the tragedy as “robbery,” despite all the evidence showing Espinosa was being targeted for his work.
Upon hearing the news, as a photo editor, the first thing I thought about was my team. Espinosa specialized in covering social justice movements; my photographers do the same.
Many of us at El Tecolote can trace our family origins back to Mexico. One cannot help but think: “If our parents had not made the move to the United States, which of us would still be alive? Which of us would have still become photojournalists if our families had stayed in the motherland? Could any of us continue in this profession if we were forced to return?”
Amid the horror, there is a small consolation in knowing that the work of journalists still matters; they wouldn’t keep getting killed for it if it didn’t. To the reporters in Mexico: Your work is more important now than ever; it instills fear in the corrupt governments you expose. You may be afraid, but they’re afraid of you too.
More journalists have died in Mexico in the last 15 years than did covering the entirety of the Vietnam War. According to The World Press Freedom Index, Mexico ranks 148th out of 180 countries for press freedom. As a journalist, you are now safer working in Afghanistan than in Mexico.
Friends of Nadia Vera, the activist found dead with Espinosa and three others, released a statement two days after the murders. “We are not afraid and if you come for each and every one of us, we will be here waiting for you. But you will not find us silenced, or defeated, or bowing down.” It then addresses Vera: “Your body was sullied, but your struggles and your ideals remain intact.”
Let us not allow the lives of these journalists to be lost in vain, let us stay informed and read the investigations these reporters died for. Do not stop reading—let us show that killing reporters will not kill the truth.