Carolina Escobar Sarti wrote in Prensa Libre about the targeted killing of Juan Francisco Solórzano Foppa and places it within the context of a changing Guatemala. It was translated by Rights Action and this is the full piece.
Mechanism: terror. Method: impunity. This is how the Pact of the Corrupt has sought to dominate Guatemalan society. Murdering two men in broad daylight on an open field owned by the state and administered by the Army—in front of hundreds of children, adolescents, and adults who were playing sports or were at the Campo de Marte, including the son of one of the two victims—is intended to send a warning message.
Now that the Public Prosecutor’s Office (MP) has stopped fabricating court cases tailored to the enemies of the Pact—since the current MP no longer acts in their favor—we have moved from judicial and civil death to physical death, as happened during the armed conflict.
Killing has once again become the means of silencing people, because living together civilly despite our differences remains a distant goal.
The murder of Juan Francisco Solórzano Foppa, just 41 years old, is not only a political crime that demands justice and shuts the door on the future, but also a cry from the darkest corner of this society: “Take that, you bastards—no one’s going to touch us.”
They believe that impunity will continue to be the norm, but they no longer have as much power over us.
In Guatemala, we continue to learn the hard way. A continuum of violence, silence, and fear has shaped generations, from the targeted killings in the city during the 1960s and 1970s to the massacres in the—primarily indigenous—rural areas of the 1980s.
There is a system that thrives on terror, in which corruption, impunity, and violence coexist. Terror is learned, chewed on, swallowed—it burns our insides. That is the “education” that some want to continue imposing in Guatemala. They don’t realize that, every day, more people are becoming informed and that, with so much terror, fear eventually fades.
I think of Silvia, Juan Francisco’s mother—a woman who has always been true to her own convictions—and I feel the pain of a mother who has just buried her son. She is in my heart. She, like her own mother, Alaide Foppa, her siblings, and now her son, envisioned a Guatemala where dignity would not be just a word, but a way of life for all people.
The cost to that family has been high, but burying Juan Francisco on October 20 with such love and the support of thousands of people has also been, in a certain (painful) way, an act of poetic justice. No October 20 will ever be without the memory of him.
Juan Francisco made many people uncomfortable and was an undisputed leader. He was one of those who sought to change a perverse and corrupt system from within the very heart of power.
He possessed the courage this country needs; he had reliable sources of information and acted accordingly, going beyond his public rhetoric. As director of criminal investigations at the Public Prosecutor’s Office, he began dismantling gangs and achieved successes against the Zetas and Barrio 18.
In just one year as head of the Superintendency of Tax Administration (SAT), he recovered more than Q1.3 billion resulting from tax evasion by large companies—not only to recover money, but also to restore institutional integrity.
He also openly denounced the scheme within the Ministry of the Interior under former Minister Jiménez that was devised to facilitate the escape of 20 inmates.
When he attempted to enter politics or legally defend Jose Rubén Zamora, they began fabricating more baseless cases against him, adding absurd allegations, and he ended up in jail twice—all in an effort to neutralize him until after the upcoming 2027 elections.
In a recent video about the Huité case, he even blamed the CIA and the Army for what was happening there. He opened up all fronts.
Those in the Pact will want to use all of this to construct a narrative of fear that will blend in with the usual pre-election violence and the political propaganda of those who promise a heavy-handed approach.
Amid all this turmoil, three things remain: the sadness of having lost Juan Francisco; the need for a Public Prosecutor’s Office, a Ministry of the Interior, and a justice system that are up to the task; and the certainty that nothing lasts forever.
You can read the original Spanish version here, La pedagogía del terror.
You can read more from Rights Action, here, Rights Action.
Categories: Accompaniment, Corruption, Criminalisation, Criminalization, Guatemala, Human Rights, Impunity, Justice, Solidarity in Action, Solidarity in Action/Guatemala, Violence
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