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"El Chalequero" or the Mexican Jack the Ripper: The Meanings of Sexual Violence in Turn-of-the-Century Mexico City
Abstract
Hispanic American Historical Review 81.3-4 (2001) 623-651
During the 1880s, Francisco Guerrero, aka "El Chalequero" or "Antonio el Chaleco," committed a long series of violent crimes, including at least two murders, against women who worked in the northern suburbs of Mexico City. The Mexican press compared him with Jack the Ripper, who killed five prostitutes in London in late 1888. However, unlike his British contemporary, whose true identity is unknown, Guerrero did nothing to hide his, and for several years he remained active and unpunished. He was finally arrested in 1888 and sentenced to death. President Porfirio Díaz commuted his sentence to 20 years in prison, and Guerrero was released early in 1904. In 1908 Guerrero was arrested again and convicted for the homicide of another woman; he died in 1910 awaiting execution. While Jack the Ripper has inspired many a mystery narrative, the story of El Chalequero straightforwardly displayed violence against women -- sexual violence in particular -- as part of Mexico City's everyday life.
This article presents multiple facets of El Chalequero's life between 1888 and 1908 -- as a street thug, pimp, and criminal suspect. The perspectives of criminologists discussed in the latter part of this article shed more light on the larger meanings of El Chalequero than those offered by the police or judiciary. Science was involved in the investigation of Jack the Ripper's identity. In Mexico, criminologists and psychiatrists were summoned to explain Guerrero's behavior during his trial, and their reports concluded that he was not a pathological case, but a rather normal example of sexual conduct among the poor. By stating this, they took part in a discussion about the criminal nature of male sexual attackers, who international specialists preferred to not typify as criminals.
On 18 October 1887 the police retrieved the body of a woman, partially covered with brush, from the Consulado River. According to forensic doctors, the victim was approximately 40 years old when her throat was slit. Two months later, another corpse with similar characteristics and wounds appeared in a ditch close to the same river. The word out was that such findings were common in the northern limits of Mexico City, including the new settlements (colonias), Peralvillo and Santa Ana, Calzada de Guadalupe, and the proximity of the village of Guadalupe Hidalgo. Other bodies had appeared in previous years, and several women had been raped and robbed near the Consulado River and the Calzada de Guadalupe. The culprit(s) had not been discovered.
These were still scarcely populated areas, although characterized by an intense movement of carts and porters entering the city through the Peralvillo gate. Travelers, pilgrims going to and from the shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe, and merchants -- all lacking the means to use the train -- patronized the many inns, pulquerías, and prostitutes of the area. Each December, during the celebrations of the Virgin, traffic and public parties increased beyond the ability of authorities to maintain order. Vending and washing laundry at the river were other important activities, both largely conducted by women. More densely populated colonias between downtown and Peralvillo, such as La Bolsa and Tepito, were feared as zones of crime and vice. As with other new lower-class settlements in a city undergoing a process of rapid growth, these areas lacked the traditional social networks of older barrios near the center of the city, especially necessary in the absence of police protection. This was hardly a problem for authorities and writers who associated the working women of the area with the hygienic and moral perils of prostitution.
The author of these crimes was compared with Jack the Ripper (el destripador), whose crimes became internationally known in late 1888. Liberal newspaper El Siglo Diez y Nueve called him "The mysterious man who repeated in Mexico the same scenes that Jacques the Ripper [sic, suggesting the French sources of the journalist] in the London neighborhood of Whitechappel." The similarities seemed obvious: the victims were prostitutes in London and women who worked in the streets in Mexico; all had been attacked at night in public spaces; all were around 40 years old...
... We have also been curious about the absence of academic attention to sexual crimes and female murders in literature about the criminal justice system in Mexico and/or at the border (though see Piccato, 2001; also one sentence in the 473-page book, Bailey and Chabat 2002: 45). ...
Since the early 1990s, civic activists in Ciudad Juarez, Chihuahua, and El Paso, Texas, have been gaining ground in raising awareness of and bringing attention to the femicides- The hundreds of unsolved murders of girls and young women in the region. In the context of Mexico's transition to democracy, activists have struggled to obtain political accountability, professional responses from the criminal justice system, or even respectful acknowledgment of public problems, particularly those aff ecting women and families from poverty. In fact, some activists have faced threats, harassment, and intimidation for their eff orts to make problems visible and criticize governmental nonresponsiveness. Th is chapter focuses on antiviolence organizing in the Ciudad Juarez/ El Paso population of two million people. The border is a violent place for men and women, but this chapter's focus is on the organizing eff orts around the murders of girls and women in the 1990s (now numbering over four hundred deaths, a third of which involve rape and mutilation),1 and on the events taking place in 2008 in Ciudad Juarez. Drug dealers are engaged in a turf war that has turned Ciudad Juarez into a militarized city, has rendered local government useless and ineff ective. Th is wave of violence resulted in over fi ve hundred deaths from January through June 2008 alone, of mostly police offi cers, federal government offi cials, and random other people. Where are the activists now? What has happened to the antiviolence organizing in the region? Women's bodies are still found in Ciudad Juarez, mutilated, raped, and gunned down. Where was the outrage of feminist and antiviolence organizations when a high-ranking police offi cer who happened to be a female was gunned down in her home in front of her children or when a pregnant twenty-four-year-old died after witnessing the violent deaths of three men who were sitting outside her home? We argue that the antiviolence movement has waned for a variety of rea-sons: (1) fear of reprisal from the state; (2) fear of being a target of drug traffi ckers for defending their perceived enemy or enemies; (3) U.S. citizens' concerns about being arrested in Mexico for violating Article 33 of the Mexican Constitution; and (4) hard- To-sustain, dramatic organizational performances that peaked in 2004 and became, in organizing terms, a hard act to follow. Violence against men and women is reprehensible; however, activists have been silenced because the victims are seen as less worthy or as "bad people" who are involved in high-stakes activities that may result in loss of life. It is important to mention that this drug war is in part fueled by the consumption of illegal drugs in the United States and that over 90 percent of all arms being used to wage this war originate in the United States and are transported into Mexico. We focus on the civic actions of nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), which press governments for accountability. The fi rst section will briefl y outline the facts and chronology of the Juarez murders and offi cial responses. The second section examines the challenges of accountability in borderlands, which complicate public action. In the third section, cross- border civic action is analyzed. The fourth part of the chapter deals with civil society's response to the new wave of violence that has rampaged through Ciudad Juarez and the reactions to the "warfare." Th is section is followed by considerations of strategies for successful action. The chapter draws on multiple sources: interviews, observations, and participant observation of antiviolence organizations, including the crossborder Coalition against Violence toward Women and Families involving activists and organizations from both Ciudad Juarez and El Paso. We also use local radio and television news programs and content analysis of blogs and newspapers in the region. Our underlying argument calls for "institutional shrouds" to provide leverage and resources for successful, systemic action, such as a human rights treaty, coupled with oversight by civil society. While Mexico and the United States have signed numerous agreements on topics that range from free trade and the environment to air traffi c control and plant viruses, no human rights agreement exists to address public safety, sex-related serial killers, and the overall lawless climate in cities like Ciudad Juarez.
... We have also been curious about the absence of academic attention to sexual crimes and female murders in literature about the criminal justice system in Mexico and/or at the border (though see Piccato, 2001; also one sentence in the 473-page book, Bailey and Chabat 2002: 45). ...
This paper focuses on anti-violence organizing in the Cd. Juarez-El Paso region of two million people. The border is a violent place for men and women, but our focus is on the organizing efforts around the murders of girls and women over the last decade, numbering over 320 deaths, a third of which involve mutilation (Washington Valdez 2002; Gonzales 2002; Benitez et.al 1999; Staudt and Coronado 2002: Ch 6; Ortiz 2002).
Hace cinco décadas, Henri Lefebvre advirtió una doble crisis: la de la ciudad tradicional y la del urbanismo moderno. Lefebvre denunció tempranamente el uso masivo del automóvil, la atrofia de las relaciones vecinales, la elitización de los centros urbanos, la monotonía de los suburbios residenciales, la esterilidad de los conjuntos funcionalistas y diversos males que hoy identificamos con categorías como gentrificación o fragmentación urbana. Aunado ello, el filósofo marxista acuñó en 1968 el concepto derecho a la ciudad como eje articulador del movimiento de izquierdas, condicionando su realización a la puesta en marcha de “utopías experimentales” lideradas por la clase trabajadora. Este capítulo retoma los estudios empíricos previos a la publicación de El derecho a la ciudad y restituye el contexto político-económico e intelectual de los años sesenta. Después de ofrecer un resumen del programa de lucha que propone el libro, se revisan los usos políticos que experimentó el derecho a la ciudad, lo que debería arrojar algunas lecciones para la discusión actual en América Latina.
Objetivo/Contexto:
Este artículo explica por qué los acontecimientos actuales exigen la exploración de las historias de violencia sexual, situando los cuatro artículos que componen este dossier en su contexto historiográfico y social más amplio. A pesar del importante corpus que hasta la fecha ha explorado temas relacionados con el género y la sexualidad en la región en los siglos xix y xx, la violencia sexual sigue siendo muy poco estudiada.
Metodología:
Vinculándose con las protestas contra la violencia y el acoso sexual y de género en Brasil y a nivel internacional desde mediados de la década de 2010, como la campaña global #MeToo en 2017, el artículo revisa la erudición actual relacionada con las historias de violencia sexual.
Originalidad:
Este dossier representa una valiosa colección de ensayos, dedicada específicamente a la historia de la violencia sexual en América Latina durante los siglos xix y xx. El artículo muestra por qué es este un tema tan urgente para la consideración de los historiadores en 2022 y contextualiza las contribuciones a continuación.
Conclusiones:
Hay una necesidad urgente de seguir investigando las historias de violencia sexual durante la modernidad tardía en los diferentes países de América Latina, especialmente porque los temas destacados por los cuatro autores -y en particular los relacionados con la discriminación y los estereotipos de género, raza y clase que perjudican a las víctimas- aún son relevantes en las experiencias contemporáneas.
This essay examines the sensational 1891 murder trial of Enrique Rode, a middle-class English professor who killed his wife in Mexico City. Using the trial and its ample coverage in the press as a case study, it explores the changing attitudes towards, and interconnections between, adultery, honor, masculinity, and sexuality, as well as the legal and medical discourses that arose out of the investigation and adjudication of the murder. It shows how gender and sexuality shaped (and reshaped) the concept of honor, a concept that embedded itself in the emerging fields of psychology and criminology and in their cutting-edge legal and scientific claims. It focuses on how medical and legal experts, as well as the press, discussed the transgression of normative boundaries of sexuality and used it to excuse or condemn Rode’s killing of his new wife, Amelia Zornosa. The Rode case reveals that late-nineteenth-century Mexico City was a society characterized by changing gender norms and views toward sexuality. While some sectors of society idealized female sexual purity, family harmony, and aggressive, if not violent, patriarchy to control women’s sexuality, others did not.
Das Thema des folgenden Beitrags sind so genannte Gewaltkulturen und die Frage, welche Rolle der Genderaspekt darin spielt. Dazu werden einige kurze, thesenhafte Aussagen vorgestellt, in deren Zentrum die Annahme steht, daß der Kern einer so genannten Gewaltkultur weniger in systemischen Strukturen, dauerhaften Institutionen oder festgefügten sozialen Gefügen als vielmehr in der narrativen Organisation von Gewalterzählungen zu suchen ist. Dies soll näher erläutert und an Beispielen ausgeführt werden, wobei die besondere Aufmerksamkeit der Frage nach den Geschlechterverhältnissen in diesen so genannten Gewaltkulturen gilt. Der empirische Bezugspunkt der folgenden Überlegungen ist Lateinamerika. Es wird eine historisch-kulturanthropologische Perspektive eingenommen, die ins „lange“ 19. Jhd. zurückgreift, das in den großen Ländern Lateinamerikas bis 1930, in den kleinen Ländern im zentralamerikanischen Raum noch länger dauerte.
Stories about postcolonial bandits in Mexico have circulated since the moment Mexico won its independence. Narratives have appeared or been discussed in a wide variety of forms: novels, memoirs, travel accounts, newspaper articles, the graphic arts, social science literature, movies, ballads, and historical monographs. During the decades between independence and the Mexican Revolution, bandit narratives were integral to the broader national and class struggles between Mexicans and foreigners concerning the definition and creation of the Mexican nation-state. Bandit Nation is the first complete analysis of the cultural impact that banditry had on Mexico from the time of its independence to the Mexican Revolution. Chris Frazer focuses on the nature and role of foreign travel accounts, novels, and popular ballads, known as corridos, to analyze how and why Mexicans and Anglo-Saxon travelers created and used images of banditry to influence state formation, hegemony, and national identity. Narratives about banditry are linked to a social and political debate about "mexican-ness" and the nature of justice. Although considered a relic of the past, the Mexican bandit continues to cast a long shadow over the present, in the form of narco-traffickers, taxicab hijackers, and Zapatista guerrillas. Bandit Nation is an important contribution to the cultural and the general histories of postcolonial Mexico. © 2006 by the Board of Regents of the University of Nebraska. All rights reserved.
On Mexico's northwestern frontier, judicial conflicts unfolded against a backdrop of armed resistance and ethnic violence. In the face of Apache raids in the north and Yaqui and Mayo revolts in the south, domestic disputes involving children, wives, and servants were easily conflated with ethnic rebellion and "barbarous" threats. A wife's adulterous liaison, a daughter's elopement, or a nephew's enraged assault shook the very foundation of what it meant to be civilized at a time when communities saw themselves under siege. Laura Shelton has plumbed the legal archives of early Sonora to reveal the extent to which both court officials and quarreling relatives imagined connections between gender hierarchies and civilized order. As she describes how the region's nascent legal system became the institution through which spouses, parents, children, employers, and servants settled disputes over everything from custody to assault to debt, she reveals how these daily encounters between men and women in the local courts contributed to the formation of republican governance on Mexico's northwestern frontier. Through an analysis of some 700 civil and criminal trial records-along with census data, military reports, church records, and other sources-Shelton describes how courtroom encounters were conditioned by an Iberian legal legacy; brutal ethnic violence; emerging liberal ideas about trade, citizenship, and property rights; and a growing recognition that honor-buenas costumbres-was dependent more on conduct than on bloodline. For Tranquility and Order offers new insight into a legal system too often characterized as inept as it provides a unique gender analysis of family relations on the frontier.
Crime and the Administration of Justice in Buenos Aires, 1785-1853, analyzes the emergence of the criminal justice system in modern Argentina, focusing on the city of Buenos Aires as a case study. It concentrates on the formative period of the postcolonial penal system, from the installation of the second Audiencia (the superior justice tribunal in the viceroyalty of Rio de la Plata) in 1785 to the promulgation of the Argentine national constitution in 1853, when a new phase of interregional organization and codification began. During this transitional period, basic features of the modern Argentine criminal justice system emerged. Osvaldo Barreneche studies these characteristics in detail: the institutional subordination of the judiciary; police interference and disruption in the relationships between the judiciary and civil society; the manipulation of the initial stages of the judicial process by senior police officers; and the use of institutionally malleable penal-legal procedures as a punitive system regardless of the judicially evaluated outcome of criminal cases. Through analysis of criminal cases, Barreneche shows how different interpretations of liberalism, the changing roles of the new police and the military, and the institutionalization of education all contributed to the debate on penal reform during Argentina's transition from colony to state. Only through understanding the historical development of legal and criminal procedures can contemporary social scientists come to grips with the struggle between democracy and authoritarianism in modern Argentina.
Based upon archival sources located in Mexico, this thesis represents a focused attempt at analyzing the factors affecting the punishment of juvenile offenders in late 1920s and early 1930s Mexico City. I argue that different crimes, homicide, prostitution, and rape, merited punishments that were prescribed to uniquely fit a suspect based on elite views of what represented the model family, education, and sexual behavior.
The elite views were represented by state officials in the Tribunal para Menores, a court established in January 1927, to specifically deal with minors, legally defined as anyone under the age of 18. Prior to the establishment of the Tribunal para Menores, minors were adjudicated in adult courts and placed in adult correctional facilities. However, the Tribunal represented the first attempt in Mexico City to separate child from adult. Correctional schools were established that solely housed minors and in most cases, prison sentences alongside adults were no longer acceptable. Instead, minors were placed in correctional schools where the ultimate goal was rehabilitation so minors could re-enter society as productive members of the nation.
The evolution of Amado Nervo’s novellas shows a constant communication with the paradigmatic shifts in the field of psychopathology. His metafictional constructs foreground a playful treatment of some of medicine’s key ideas. In some cases, the narrow limits of positivistic psychopathology are overcome in order to anticipate notions that obtain scientific status with modern psychology.
La evolución de la novela corta de Amado Nervo muestra una comunicación constante con las transformaciones paradigmáticas en el campo de la psicopatología. Las construcciones metaficcionales hacen patente un tratamiento lúdico de algunas ideas clave de la disciplina médica. En algunos casos se superan los estrechos límites de la psicopatología positivista para anticipar planteamientos que adquieren estatuto científico con la psicología moderna.
The article analyzes the case of Luisa Nevárez, the first woman condemned to the gallows in Puerto Rico at the beginning of the twentieth century. Convicted for the killing of her almost year-old daughter, she never admitted the crime nor showed any remorse. Yet, Luisa did not make an easy transition into the sphere of the criminal. The nascent identity that was being forged in early twentieth-century Puerto Rico configured the delinquent as a masculine subject who was acknowledged as possessing intellectual malice and the capacity for social action. Luisa's condition as a woman, mother, and mulatta, her ignorance, and other factors deprived her of any possibility of entering the space of the criminal subject. Instead, the figure of Luisa oscillated between monster and madwoman in the discourses of the time. Around the mid-twentieth century her discursive figure emerges again, this time in the authorized voices of those concerned with criminal activities on the island. In this context, we find her embodying the prototype of the criminal woman: degenerate, ugly, black, and sexually insatiable. It is Luisa's abject condition that places her on the threshold of history and on the borders of the intelligible. However, the impossibility of explaining her actions in a rational way constitutes a formidable challenge for the historian. In this respect, the article is also a reflection on the limits and possibilities of the representative faculties of the historical narrative.
En primer lugar, se pretende observar la dinámica operativa del espacio judicial en lo criminal, para comprender la formación de una determinada antropología criminal. Sólo así, se estará en condiciones de evaluar las prácticas de enjuiciamiento criminal, en la jurisdicción de la capital a fines del siglo XIX, como instancias de definición de una alteridad humana. Posteriormente, se buscará estudiar el papel de esta definición del sujeto criminal, en la necesidad punitiva de legitimar la ampliación creciente de su ofensiva sobre la sociedad. Particular atención merecerá el papel de la medicina legal a través de las nociones asimiladas de la psiquiatría y criminología positivista europea como horizontes científicos de legitimación.
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