Cuautla Gets Fed Up and Takes to the Streets: White is the New War Cry
Imagine this: any given Saturday, but instead of posting stories from brunch, hundreds of people dressed in white took to the streets of Cuautla, Morelos. It wasn’t a flash mob or the premiere of a new Netflix series. It was the harsher and less bingeable reality of a community that has literally already reached its limit with violence, extortion and murder. The monochromatic outfit was not a fashion statement, it was a silent (and not so silent) cry for peace.
The scene: at least a thousand people, summoned by the Diocese of Cuernavaca, transformed the city into a river of white balloons and contained frustration. The march, which started from the parish of Santa Ana in Cuautlixco, was the equivalent of holding up a mirror to the authorities: “Hey, we are here and we can’t take it anymore!”. The cries of “Justice!” and “We want peace!” They mixed with religious chants and applause, creating a surreal soundtrack for a protest that was anything but ordinary.
The Bishop Who Enters the Quite and the Authority that Promises (Again)
At the head of all this, as if he were the leader of a mission in difficult mode, was Bishop Ramón Castro Castro. In statements that are more real than the Clarendon filter, the Catholic leader dropped the pearl that the initiative came from the people, from a “tired, wounded, hurt and disillusioned” citizenry. Basically, the general mood of an entire generation, but with the added anxiety that they could extort you or kill you for not paying the ‘floor fee’. Yes, that illegal and terrifying tax that makes even paying the rent feel light.
Bishop Castro did not mince words: he pointed out that extortion is the daily bread and that those who refuse to pay end up murdered. His statement was so direct that it hurts: “people are already ‘up to here’ with having to pay double taxes.” In other words, apart from paying their taxes as responsible citizens, they have to pay criminals under penalty of death. A subscription system that no one wants to be part of, but that has been forcibly imposed on them.
“I hope that we are heard, especially those who have in their hands the possibility of bringing that peace and that justice (…) in Cuautla we see what is happening with violence, the right to land; that people are already ‘up to here’ with having to pay double taxes and also if they don’t, as we have seen, they are murdered and that really hurts.” – Ramón Castro, Bishop
On the other side, the authorities, in the figure of the head of the state Security Secretariat, Miguel Ángel Urrutia, came out with the usual classic speech: “a security device was set up” for the march and there is already a “special operation” in the area with the National Guard, the Army and the Municipal Police. They also promised new video surveillance arcs, because apparently more cameras are the magic solution to a root problem that goes deeper than a bedroom. Governor Margarita González Saravia ordered these actions to “restore trust.” Spoiler alert: citizen trust is more broken than someone’s cell phone that fell in the club.
The Crime that Lighted the Fuse: A Murder that Evidences the Crisis
To understand the level of desperation, we have to talk about what happened just one day before the march. Carolina Plascencia Carvajal, alternate president of the Association of Users of the Cuautla River (Asurco) and candidate for the presidency of the organization, was riddled with bullets while traveling in her car. The attackers, who were traveling on a motorcycle and another vehicle (the classic modus operandi that we all already know), attacked her at the Puxtla cruise ship. The engineer, originally from Ayala, died instantly.
This is not an isolated crime. It is the straw that broke the camel’s back in a glass that was already full. It is the second murder of a key member of Asurco: in February 2022, Francisco Vázquez, member of the Vigilance Council, was also murdered. The farmers and users of the association do not rule out that the motive is related to a dispute over control of the organization or the management of water in Tenango, Jantetelco. Because yes, even water, that basic resource, has become a bloody loot.
The march in white, therefore, was not just a generic reaction to insecurity. It was a specific response to a crime wave that has turned everyday life into a logistical nightmare where going out on the streets, running a business or even participating in civil associations can be a death sentence. It is the fatigue of a community that is seeing its social fabric torn apart by the greed and violence of criminal groups.
The message is clear and forceful: Cuautla, and by extension Morelos, cries for a ceasefire. Peaceful mobilization is the last resort of a society that feels abandoned by the authorities of justice and that has decided, symbolically, to dress in white to show its exhaustion and its desire for peace. It is a lesson in civic courage in an era where fear wants to be the main narrator of our lives.
And now what? Shall we share this so that it doesn’t remain in the void? Visibility is the first step to action. Share this story, because silence only beats the game of violence. And if you’re interested in understanding more about how communities organize in the face of adversity, explore our related content. The conversation can’t stop.
