by Jennifer Johnson and Vanessa Kritzeron April 01, 2010
Working to protect human rights in the heavily militarized mountain region of Guerrero, Mexico is never easy; and threats and harassment are not new for the Mexican human rights defenders who work for the Organization of the Me’phaa Indigenous People (OPIM) and the Tlachinollan Mountain Center for Human Rights. But we have been alarmed to see a rise in threats against them because of their outspoken advocacy, including their accompaniment of two indigenous women, Inés Fernández Ortega y Valentina Rosendo Cantú, who were raped and tortured by soldiers in 2002.
On the 30th anniversary of the murder of Archbishop Oscar Romero, Salvadoran President Mauricio Funes apologized for the role of the Salvadoran government in this cataclysmic event.
His words are so moving they require no further introduction.
I just listened to a group of Honduran lawyers, who were exhausted,
frustrated and in fear, as they explained their efforts to defend
citizens’ rights in their country.
The lawyers were here to ask
for help from the Inter-American Commission for Human Rights.
Their message was:
As the Texas State Board of Education voted in March to exclude Archbishop Oscar Romero from history textbooks, just as we reach the thirtieth anniversary of his murder, it seems like a good moment to remember his legacy.
In January, I traveled to Colombia on a delegation with Witness for Peace to meet with communities resisting displacement in Northern Cauca and with communities of internally displaced people near Bogotá and Cali. Since I got back, I’ve viewed my work differently, and here’s why:
I realized that in our advocacy we talk so much about “victims,” when the word we really should be using is “heroes.”