The Water Protectors of Santiago Mexquititlán

Estela Hernández Jiménez during a protest at the Querétaro legislature on October 16, 2023. Photo © Nadia Bernal.

Reportage • Nadia Bernal • April 24, 2024 • Leer en castellano

She speaks softly, but her voice is powerful. Her hair is tied back, her blouse is red, almost wine-colored and embellished with white lace. An embroidered purse hangs across her body. 

Estela Hernández Jiménez is originally from Santiago Mexquititlán, a Hñahñu community in the municipality of Amealco, Querétaro, in central Mexico. 

When I ask Hernández Jiménez how she perceives the women of her community, she answers without hesitation: "very brave." She and her compañeras have led a struggle in defense of their drinking water well in Santiago Mexquititlán.

It is Sunday, March 24, the second day of the Fourth National Assembly for Water and Life, a gathering held in La Magdalena Tlaltelulco, in Tlaxcala. A hall with aluminum-sheet roofing and cement walls that is usually used for parties and community events now hosts this meeting of land defenders. Children run, play and sit down to draw the rivers and forests where they live.

Over the past two years, communities from at least 15 Mexican states have been working to raise awareness of and build networks to fight the theft, exploitation and pollution of water. 

Among the hustle and bustle of women preparing food for the assembly members and the Otomí craftswomen selling crafts at their stalls, there are discussions about building local autonomy and self-determination in the context of state-sanctioned water theft. 

In the evening, as a group of women write up the minutes of the day’s meetings, participants in the assembly enjoy sweet bread and drink coffee; others eat pork rinds in red sauce and black beans left over from lunch. Musicians perform rap and cumbia, and dancing adds spice to the gathering.

The first National Assembly of Water and Life was held in August 2022 in Santa María Zacatepec, Puebla. On that occasion, it was Nahua activists, who had been evicted from their occupation of the Bonafont water bottling plant six months before, that organized a gathering of community organizations from around the country. 

To date, there have been assemblies in Puebla, Querétaro, Mexico City and now here, on the slopes of the Matlalcueye volcano, as the communities in Tlaxcala call it respectfully and with affection. Hernández Jiménez participated on behalf of the Autonomous Council of Santiago Mexquititlán, which is also part of the National Indigenous Congress (CNI, in its Spanish acronym).

We sat down to talk in the hall, which was festooned with banners decrying militarization and others demanding the release of political prisoners jailed for defending their territory.

Hernández Jiménez emphasized that despite excessively long workdays, sexist dynamics within families and femicidal violence, the core of community organizing remains solid, drawing on a foundation of solidarity, listening to and loving one another.

"We give love to others, sometimes more than we give ourselves, and during this event, it was said that the love we give to and feel for others is very important," said Hernández Jiménez. "But we also have to love ourselves."

Women against water theft

In her day-to-day life, Hernández Jiménez mixes domestic duties and parenting with her work as a teacher. She earned a PhD in education, which allowed her to create a guide for learning and teaching Otomí. 

Sometimes she also helps her parents with their popsicle and juice stand in the local market. But it is not only work that binds her and her family: Hernández Jiménez has long organized in her community alongside her mother, Jacinta Francisco Marcial, who was wrongly imprisoned in 2006, and her sister Sara Hernández Jiménez.

Over the past few years, I have learned about how the people from her town organize in defense of the Otomí language, their way of life, their natural resources and their water. 

Everything changed in Santiago Mexquititlán on March 31, 2021. On that day, Doña Ángela Cresencia looked out her window and saw eight trucks with 10,000-liter tanks draining water from the well located in the town’s Barrio Cuarto neighborhood, despite the fact the community had been without running water for weeks. Without giving it a thought, she ran over and blocked one of the trucks. Many of her neighbors came out to support her and protect their water supply.  

In short order, at least 10 state police patrols arrived in the community and intimidated residents by shooting into the air. 

Since then, Doña Ángela has been known as a water protector. Her efforts to safeguard the well gave rise to a movement in defense of water that has spread throughout the community.

The day after Doña Angela's action, I arrived to cover a meeting called by the Indigenous Governing Council of Santiago Mexquititlán. While the Hernández Jiménez sisters were discussing what actions to take in the assembly, their mother Jacinta was embroidering and chatting with her neighbors while sitting in the grass.

Community members set up an encampment to guard the well and prevent the extraction of more water. This led to negotiations with the State Water Commission of the State of Querétaro (CEA). The CEA reached agreements with the community, but some promises went unfulfilled, so the Indigenous Governing Council of Santiago Mexquititlán filed a writ of protection, took legal action at the federal level, and requested the intervention of the National Water Commission.

Today their main demand is that the well, which the locals themselves built 50 years ago, cease to be administered by the CEA and, instead, that it be self-managed by the community.

"It fills me with satisfaction that our [organizing] efforts in our communities, which sometimes seem to have no impact, have become known; to see that our work really makes a difference," said Hernández Jiménez. 

"Throughout Mexico and the world, resistance emerges from different spaces, but it is women who have put body, soul and spirit into resistance in defense of water, life and territory," said Hernández Jiménez. "Personally, I’m proud to be among women who are human rights defenders and also life-givers within the territories."

Confronting violence for protecting water

There are several intense conflicts over water in the state of Querétaro. Of its 11 aquifers, 8 are overexploited. This is in addition to drought, the unequal distribution of water, rapid urbanization—often in areas of ecological value, where aquifer systems recharge—and the contamination of surface water. Organizations and academics have documented all of this.

The administration of Governor Mauricio Kuri González of the rightwing National Action Party (PAN) has officially recognized the water crisis in Querétaro. But the state government has also systematically repressed those who mobilize to defend the water, forests and land. 

In May 2022, the state’s Congress passed a Water Law put forward by the governor's political party. This law is controversial because it allows state authorities to grant private companies permits to extract and commercialize water for up to 40 years. 

Protests began as soon as the law was passed, bringing together organizers like the Hernández Jiménez sisters, among many others. The most significant demonstration took place on June 10 of that year, which the police violently shut down. 

The activist organization Bajo Tierra Museo del Agua and the Saltapatrás project, a local independent media outlet, have documented eight instances of violence during environmental mobilizations in Querétaro since Doña Angela stopped the water truck more than three years ago. The National Human Rights Commission and the Human Rights Ombudsman of Querétaro said that in two instances, there were serious rights violations, including torture and arbitrary detention.

Land defenders in Santiago Mexquititlán have also been victims of various forms of violence. Since 2019, they say there have been three attempted murders, three attempted kidnappings and at least seven arbitrary arrests of people who participate in community resistance in their town.

Defending water and community control

Hernández Jiménez notes that women in positions of state authority are especially prone to using violence against organized communities. Her observation is poignant today, as two women campaign to be President of Mexico, and when all the political parties are rushing to emphasize gender parity.

As an example, Guadalupe Murguía Gutiérrez was the Interior Secretary in Querétaro during several episodes of repression. 

Murguía Gutiérrez left her position in December to run for the Senate as a PAN candidate. Independent human rights organizations found that rights violations were ordered and carried out and while she was Interior Secretary.

"The state, through its political operators, offers [women in power] certain privileges," said Hernández Jiménez. "The women that the state has empowered in its different structures are the worst, the most intensely violent."

In contrast, Hernández Jiménez says women of her town not only look after their children, family and community, but also that they also struggle against gender roles. Indeed, many have worked tirelessly to raise awareness and educate others in their community.

In early 2022, the Indigenous Governing Council of Santiago Mexquititlán won the permanent suspension of the Water Law, leaving it without effect in Santiago Mexquititlán until a new ruling is made. 

Today they continue to hold assemblies, organize street protests, marches, demonstrations and take legal action as they fight to regain community control of their fresh water well.

"The entire system represses us, discriminates against us, harasses us and stigmatizes us," comments Hernández Jiménez. "In spite of this, as women we keep fighting."