Tag Archives: feminism

Breaking Machismo’s Hold? Mexico’s Women After One Year of Sheinbaum

By Kary Vannice

When Claudia Sheinbaum stood on stage last October as the first woman ever elected to lead Mexico, it felt like she had the potential to split open the bedrock of the male-dominated culture that has defined this country for centuries. Could Claudia’s administration be the wedge that finally pries the machismo foundation open and allows women’s rights to get a foothold in a nation long ruled by men?

In 2024, when Sheinbaum finally broke through the ultimate glass ceiling, it seemed like more than a political win. For many women it seemed like a chance to finally be seen, heard, and be granted rights that they had long been denied.

And they had very good reasons for those hopes. During the election Sheinbaum leaned into feminist themes, with slogans like “It’s time for women”, and made many political promises related to women’s rights and equality. Now, a year later, she’s had some wins and some losses on the front of equal rights and protection for women.

Her administration pushed forward a sweeping package of constitutional reforms that inserted the principle of substantive equality into the nation’s legal foundation. From now on, every law must be drafted with women’s rights in mind, and security and justice institutions are required to operate with a gender perspective.

For too long, women have been invisible in legislation and, at the same time, singled out and punished within the judicial system. As activist and lawyer, Patricia Olamendi, has often warned, “laws without gender perspective reproduce inequality.” This reform, at least on paper, is meant to interrupt that cycle.

Sheinbaum also launched a Women’s Rights Charter legislatively and published and publicly distributed a handbook to help women and girls understand their rights. Women now have a clear guide that says: these are my rights, and this is where I go when they are violated. In a country where, according to the National Institute of Statistics and Geography, 70% of women over the age of 15 have experienced violence at least once, that kind of information is more than just symbolic, it’s empowering.

Economically, she made another very significant move on behalf of older women. A pension program for women aged 60 to 64, one that prioritizes Indigenous and Afro-Mexican women first, and over time expands to reach more than three million by 2026. For women who spent their lives raising families, supporting communities, and often working informally without social security, this pension represents long overdue recognition of their contributions to households, and the nation as a whole. It will not erase decades of invisibility and neglect, but it finally acknowledges that their work matters.

These are a few of the “wins” for women in Mexico, but Sheinbaum’s first year has been one of both promise and contradiction. Despite making some movement forward, many of the old patterns remain — underfunded institutions, muted responses to violence, and a tendency to cast women’s activism as disruption rather than democracy.

For this, Sheinbaum has many female critics. “Being a woman does not necessarily embody progressiveness in the women’s rights agenda,” said Friné Salguero, director at the Simone de Beauvoir Leadership Institute, warning that while Sheinbaum’s election was historic, her agenda may not be sufficiently transformative. And there is evidence to back up her criticism.

Despite the promises of reform, the numbers don’t all add up to better days for women ahead in Mexico. Women’s shelters which saw a surge of 75% more users between 2023 and 2024 have had their funding reduced by over 4% in 2025.

The newly created Ministry for Women, designed to give gender policy a permanent place in government, was underfunded at its inception. And even CONAVIM, the agency tasked with preventing violence against women, has faced budget cuts. Women’s support organizations warn that these reductions aren’t just disappointing, the consequences could be deadly for women and girls.

And of course, there is the violence against women itself. Relentless, visible to the point of being overt, and largely unchecked. Like the murder of influencer Valeria Márquez in Jalisco who was shot during a TikTok livestream in May. Shocking? Yes, but hardly unique in a country where 10 women a day are murdered and 13 are reported missing.

On security, Sheinbaum campaigned as the candidate who could “show results.” Yet polls show nearly half of Mexicans believe violence has gotten worse under her leadership, and women remain at the epicenter of this crisis.

So, yes, the presence of a woman in power matters. But when women still feel unsafe, silenced, or dismissed, presence alone cannot be the measure of progress.

But one cannot measure the weight of 200 years of male domination against a single year in office. Cultures and ideologies as deeply rooted as Mexico’s cannot be overturned in twelve months, or even in a single six-year term. But what can be measured is intention. Laws matter, but enforcement matters more. And leadership matters most of all.

The fact that Mexico’s most powerful leader is a woman is not meaningless. It is a rupture in a centuries-old foundation. Whether that rupture becomes the wedge that finally opens space for women’s rights to deeply root themselves into the bedrock of this nation depends heavily on what Sheinbaum chooses to do next.

Carmen Aristegui: An Unyielding Force in Journalism

By Kary Vannice

There’s one woman every Mexican president since Felipe Calderón (2006-12) has feared, and that’s Carmen Aristegui, one of Mexico’s most influential and fearless journalists. Known for her sharp, tough demeanor and relentless investigative journalism, Aristegui has become a powerful voice against injustice, corruption, and attacks on press freedom in Mexico.

Aristegui’s 20-plus-year career is marked by an unwavering commitment to truth, transparency and accountability. She has worked in every facet of journalism, print, radio and television. Most notably, she anchored the news program Aristegui on CNN en Español and currently hosts a daily CNN podcast of the same name. In 2012, she started her own news website, Aristegui Noticias, a highly renowned news program in Mexico and Latin America, with a vast viewership of over 45 million people each month.

One of the most notable aspects of Aristegui’s career is her refusal to stay silent in the face of adversity. Shockingly, Mexico has the highest death rate of journalists in the world. When asked about this in an interview, Aristegui said, “It’s a disgrace that persists because it goes hand in hand with the impunity of a country without a justice system willing to punish those responsible. Few of the perpetrators have been prosecuted, which is almost an invitation to murder for those who feel threatened by journalism.”

During her acceptance speech in 2023 for the UNESCO/Guillermo Cano Grand Prize for Press Freedom, Aristegui stated: “Mexico is one step away from being considered a country with high restrictions on press freedom, significantly related to the ‘constant’ attacks by President Andrés Manuel López Obrador against the media, journalists, critics and other powers of the Republic.” She went on to say, “When a journalist is murdered, a person is murdered, a professional is murdered, but society’s right to be informed and to know what that journalist had to report is also murdered.”

Throughout her illustrious career, Carmen Aristegui has faced numerous challenges and has been a constant target for those who seek to silence her. Her fearless pursuit of truth and unwavering commitment to investigative journalism have made her a thorn in the side of those in power. Her illegal termination from MVS Radio in 2015, following her report on the conflict of interest concerning home purchases by then-President Enrique Peña Nieto, was a glaring example of the pressures she faced. The termination, widely regarded as an act of censorship, sparked outrage and widespread public protests that resulted in Aristegui’s reinstatement a few days later, but nonetheless drew attention to the vulnerability of journalists in Mexico who dared to expose corruption at the highest levels of government.

Aristegui’s resilience in the face of adversity became even more apparent as she endured not only censorship but also personal attacks and ridicule throughout her career. At the end of last year, she was once again at the center of the high-profile “Pegasus” spyware, used by the Mexican government for covert surveillance of Mexican citizens. She was called to give testimony about how she and her teenage son were allegedly spied on during the years Enrique Peña Nieto was in office.

Her sharp and critical reporting style, aimed at holding those in power accountable, has made her a lightning rod for criticism, yet Aristegui has weathered the storm with grace and determination, refusing to be deterred from her journalistic mission.

Despite the many attempts to undermine her credibility and silence her voice, Aristegui has emerged as a symbol of journalistic integrity and resilience. Her ability to persevere in the face of censorship and ridicule underscores the importance of a free press and the crucial role of journalists in holding the powerful accountable.

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“The story of women’s struggle for equality belongs to no single feminist nor to any one organization but to the collective efforts of all who care about human rights.”
Gloria Steinem

I am grateful to the generation of women that came before me and told me that I could be anything. Yet, for me, this also translated into the idea that I had to do everything. While I wanted a career I also wanted to be the kind of mother who drives the kids to tennis lessons and picks them up from school. The world I was raised in didn’t make it seem very possible to have both, and career was definitely considered better and more respect-worthy than becoming a housewife.

The world today is different. Being able to work remotely and have flexible hours has made it easier than ever for women to have a work/life balance. Reproductive choice – access to birth control and pregnancy termination – has also made it easier for women to choose what their future will look like.

Every International Women’s Day we celebrate the women who are making strides ahead. We raise them up on pedestals as examples of what is possible. We applaud our gender and marvel at how far we have come. Those who have peeked over the glass ceiling give speeches on how they hope to inspire girls to strive to the top of whichever field they choose.

But if the standard we hold for success is that every woman become a doctor, CEO or climate change activist we will always fall short of our goal.

Rather than look at the millions of women who spend their days caring for their family as failed potential, we could elevate our value of the tasks that occupy them. What if we elevated the value we put on what is termed ‘women’s work’?

What if we shifted our expectations of what it means to be a feminist to be more inclusive to those who haven’t had access to academic schooling on gender theory or the chance to get an MBA?

This IWD let us celebrate the women who are doing laundry in rivers, carpooling their kids to hockey, cooking dinner while staying on budget, helping with science class volcanos and mediating tantrums from toddlers.

Because while it is encouraging to be taught you can do anything, being taught that you are enough is true empowerment.

See you next month,

Jane

International Women’s Day, Mexican Style

By Deborah Van Hoewyk

Over the years, the March issue of the The Eye has observed International Women’s Day (March 8) with articles on the famous, the fierce, the creative, the entrepreneurial – and the murdered – women of Mexico.

Mexican women have been world-class artists, actors, writers and photographers; they fought in their two national revolutions and have played key roles in the Zapatista movement. They are businesswomen and entrepreneurs; they occasionally give men a run for their money in corruption.

Politically speaking, Mexico has just become a leader in gender equity: by law, half the Congress must be women (The U.S. Senate is 24% women, and the House of Representatives is about 28%; in Canada, the Senate recently reached 50% women, but only briefly, while the House of Commons is 34% women.)

International Women’s Day is a worldwide celebration of what has been achieved in terms of women’s social, economic, cultural, and political equity; IWD works to raise awareness of what remains to be done. It emerged early in the 20th century – from labor struggles in the U.S. and Europe, from suffrage struggles in Russia, and in Mexico, from the Revolution of 1910-20. Although the U.S. labor movement celebrated National Women’s Day in 1909, the first International Women’s Day was observed in Europe in 1911. With the second-wave women’s movement of the 1960s, recognition by the U.N. in 1975, and official U.N. designation of March 8 as the date in 1977, IWD became a mainstream, but largely unofficial, holiday throughout the world.

International Women’s Day in Mexico

In Mexico, IWD was first celebrated in the 1930s in Mexico City. Mexican feminism began to emerge in the late 19th century, aimed mostly at achieving education for women; these efforts bore fruit before, during, and after the Revolution, as schoolteachers started entering the workforce. (The right to divorce came during the Revolution, in 1914.) Feminist magazines began appearing in the decades surrounding the Revolution as well, but they did not focus on broad social, economic, and political rights of full citizenship; rather, they promoted the emancipación of women within traditional social structures – they should broaden their intellectual and cultural horizons, and the importance their roles as wife and mother should be recognized.

With the support of progressive forces, including the Communist Party of Mexico, the Frente Único pro Derechos de la Mujer (The United Front for the Rights of Women – Frida Kahlo was one of the leaders), focused directly on national suffrage (there had been local progress on voting rights in the Yucatán and San Luis Potosí). Although the United Front was very active in the late 1930s, women did not win the national right to vote until 1953.

Until recently, there has been little research on mid-century Mexican feminism, but if we look carefully at a 1960 Mexican poster commemorating International Women’s Day and the 50th anniversary of the Mexican Revolution, we can get a picture of just what the emancipation of women meant Mexico.

First, the poster shows the involvement of women in larger revolutionary struggles. The central figure, bearing a torch, is backed by the Cuban flag and has the number 26 emblazoned on her shirt – “26” was the symbol of Castro’s campaign to overthrow the Cuban dictator Fulgencio Batista (the effort began July 26, 1953). On the right of the poster appear Asian women – the Chinese Revolution that brought that Communist Party and Mao Zedong to power concluded on October 1, 1949. To the left appear three Mexican women, who arguably represent, from front to back, women of direct Spanish descent, mestizos (Spanish and indigenous descent), and indigenous. A Mexican girl releases a dove, symbol of peace, to the flock in the sky. Nonetheless, the idea that women have participated in national revolutions is not the same as promoting a major revolution for the rights of women.

Second, and what is perhaps most interesting – and complicated – is the slogan across the bottom of the poster: LA EMANCIPACION DE LA MUJER ES LA OBRA DE LA MUJER MISMA (The emancipation of women is the work of the woman herself). “Emancipation” is a fraught word, saying more about the condition women want to escape – it reeks of restraint and control, if not slavery. And to say it is women themselves who must do the work of emancipation passes the buck on the long history of Church-influenced social structures and laws, much less the culture of machismo (literally, maleness) that have led to the need for emancipation.

International Women’s Day 2020

The Mexican feminist movement grew, as it did all around the world, during the 1960s through the 1980s. In the 1990s, however, the phenomenon of femicide in Mexico surfaced in Ciudad Juárez, Chihuahua, where hundreds of women went missing, only to be found dead. Evaluations of interventions to quell the violence have shown they have had little effect, due to lackluster implementation or the country’s culture of impunity that favors men.

Thirty years later, with femicide and violence against women only growing, the slogans of the International Women’s Day marches of 2020 and 2021 said nothing about “emancipation.” Nor were the marches merely demonstrations, but serious, and violent, protests about femicide and gender-based violence.

On Saturday, February 8, 2020, Érick Francisco murdered his partner Ingrid Escamilla by stabbing her to death with a kitchen knife, then proceeding to skin and dismember her. This is femicide, which is far more prevalent in Mexico than the official statistics allow. For the murder of a woman to be considered a femicide, the woman must have experienced ongoing domestic, particularly sexual, abuse, and she must have been tortured or mutilated as part of the murder.

In 2018, Mexico registered 3,752 femicides, over 10 a day; in 2019, it was 3,825. Femicides surged 7.7% in the opening months of the pandemic. Feminists have called Mexico the “Femicide State” (Mexico Feminicidio) and cite a “culture of impunity” coming straight from the top.

In March 2020, there were over 26,000 calls to domestic violence hotlines. Mexico’s president, Andrés Manual López Obrador (AMLO) said 90% of them were fake. AMLO has also expressed impatience with feminist protests – they were just a distraction to make sure his airplane raffle failed; the March 8 demonstrations were the work of neoliberal opponents from the last regime “who want to see this government fail,” and “suddenly conservatives are dressing up as feminists” to attack him (reporting from The New York Times, May 31, 2020).

On International Women’s Day, Sunday, March 8, 2020, about 80,000 women took to the streets in Mexico City alone. Femicide and gender-based violence were the major themes: “Fight today so we don’t die tomorrow,” was accompanied by hundreds of posters of murdered women.

On Monday, March 9, the movement sponsored “A Day without Women,” a universal strike by women who stayed home from work (4o%, or 21 million, of Mexico’s women are in the formal workforce, countless more comprise the informal workforce) or did not leave their houses, in particular, they spent nothing to contribute to the economy. Major corporations (Walmart employs 108,000 women) gave women a paid day off to demonstrate.

International Women’s Day 2021

The National Palace – the seat of Mexico’s government and the home of the president – prepared for last year’s march with a barricade running all around the building. AMLO said it was to prevent “damage to historic buildings” (another barrier was erected around the national art museum, the Palacio de Bellas Artes), and to eliminate “provocations” that might be “infiltrated” by people seeking to use the women’s movement. AMLO himself, he said, is not a “male chauvinist” (reporting from BBC News, March 8, 2021).

On Monday, March 8, International Women’s Day saw a smaller number of protestors than in 2020, perhaps due to the pandemic, perhaps because there had been no ghastly femicides recently. Women, however, remained equally outraged. They were outraged by the barricade, which on Saturday night they had painted with a seemingly endless list – actually, 939 – of the names of murdered women.

They were also outraged by AMLO’s insensitivity to women’s issues, expressed this year in his steadfast support for Félix Salgado Macedonia, a candidate for governor of the state of Guerrero accused of rape by multiple women. According to AMLO, the accusations are “politically motivated,” and news-conference questions about Salgado brought a sharp “That’s enough!” (¡Ya Chole!). (Salgado’s daughter, Evelyn Salgado Pineda, is now governor of Guerrero.)

Protestors attacked the barricade with hammers, blowtorches, and their hands. Police threw flash-bang grenades and sprayed protestors with fire retardant; protestors sprayed well-shielded police with fire extinguishers. Injuries were reported by 62 police and 19 protestors.

While not all women in these protests agree that violence should be the tactic of choice, they also recognize that it seems to be the only way to focus attention on the issue of violence against themselves. Violence against women is the most basic way to keep women from achieving equality, and Mexico’s police have been “heavily implicated” in the crisis of violence against women. It should not be surprising that the “new” feminists of Mexico are younger women dedicated to supporting each other in the face of violence, using violent protest themselves when they consider it necessary.

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

Women belong in all places where decisions are being made. … It shouldn’t be that women are the exception.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg

How relevant is the feminist movement today and how pervasive is gender inequality?

I have found myself trying to answer this question often in the past few years. While I was growing up there was a certain amount of what became termed victimization attached to the feminist voice as statistics of domestic abuse and sexual harassment were recounted. I recall the ‘walksafe’ program at my university that it was expected women would call if they needed to walk after dark. And if you didn’t call and something happened, well, then you were to blame. However, the world is also a dangerous place for men and if we relied on data we would see that many men also face harassment and violence. More men than women go to war or join law enforcement or go to prison.

Women hold more political and economic power than in the past – not all over the globe, but in many developed countries. It has been suggested to me in social situations that gender inequality is hardly a main global concern. And yet I still believe it is. I believe it because of the women I know in rural Mexico who struggle to go to school. I believe it when I browse the internet and see women’s bodies sexualized in advertising and popular cultural.

Is all fear and danger equal? I recently read a wonderful short story called “The Wind” by Lauren Groff about a woman running away from her abusive police officer husband. The narrator is the daughter of one of the children and the final paragraph was so moving and poignant that I cried because I recognized this fear that I had been unable to put into words.

“The three children survived. Eventually they would save themselves, struggling into lives and loves far from this place and this moment, each finding a kind of safe harbor, jobs and people and houses empty of violence. But always inside my mother there would blow a silent wind, a wind that died and gusted again, raging throughout her life, touching every moment she lived after this one. She tried her best, but she couldn’t help filling me with this same wind. It seeped into me through her blood, through every bite of food she made for me, through every night she waited, shaking with fear, for me to come home by curfew, through every scolding, everything she forbade me to say or think or do or be, through all the ways she taught me how to move as a woman in the world. She was far from being the first to find it blowing through her, and of course I will not be the last. I look around and can see it in so many other women, passed down from a time beyond history, this wind that is dark and ceaseless and raging within.”

So let us not compare our heartaches and tragedies, gender inequality isn’t a men vs. women debate. It is about making the world a place where all of us can feel free. Until the wind that Groff writes about is a thing of distant memory, the feminist movement will be relevant.

See you next month,

Jane