Breakfast with Juan Miguel Ramírez, candidate for mayor of Celaya, Mexico, is interrupted by the thump of combat boots coming down the stairs.
Soldiers have been camping on the roof of the family home since Ramírez replaced his predecessor Gisela Gaytán, who was shot dead on the first day of her election campaign in one of Mexico’s most dangerous cities.
Gaytán is one of 30 candidates killed on the way to Mexico’s June 2 elections. Hundreds of others have dropped out or asked for protection as organized crime groups compete for influence in the government, eroding Mexico’s democracy.
The violence partly reflects the scale of the election, the largest ever in Mexico. They will decide on the president’s successor, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, and more than 20,000 posts at federal, state and municipal levels.
Related: Candidate for mayor of the Mexican city of Celaya murdered on the first day of the campaign
All political parties have been affected by violence – but it is the candidates and authorities at the municipal level that have been hit the hardest. It is both the least protected layer of the state and where criminal groups seek deals with authorities to deepen their control over the local territory and its businesses.
Various factions are fighting over Celaya (500,000 inhabitants), one of the largest industrial cities in the state of Guanajuato.
“It has become a battlefield,” said Falko Ernst, Mexico analyst for the nonprofit Crisis Group. “It’s not just about drug routes, but also about oil siphoning, local racketeering markets and retail markets for methamphetamine.”
As of 2020, approximately one in a thousand people are murdered in Celaya every year. It is the most dangerous city to be a police officer in Mexico: at least 34 officers have been killed in the past three years.
Hours before her death, Gaytán held a press conference in which she outlined her proposals to fight corruption and improve security in Celaya as a candidate for President López Obrador’s Morena party. Both Celaya and Guanajuato have been governed by the conservative Pan Party for decades.
At the time, Ramírez, who helped design Gaytán’s platform, worked with the rest of her team in his house.
They all had their phones on silent. “We didn’t get the news until someone came to tell us,” Ramírez said. “At first we didn’t want to believe it. Then they showed us a picture.
“[Replacing her] was a difficult decision because Gisela’s murder was not an ordinary murder,” Ramírez said. “They shot a bullet in her neck and then shot her all over her body.
“They shot her many times,” he repeated, lost in memory for a moment.
The attorney general has twice announced the arrest of suspects, claiming to have dismantled the cell that killed Gaytán, but without providing information on the motive.
The state’s governor, Diego Sinhue, has said they are exploring all possible lines of inquiry – including that factions within Morena itself unhappy with the selection of Gaytán as a candidate could be involved.
“I have not received any threats, but I have felt a hostile atmosphere from the state government,” said Ramírez, who described the announcement that Morena herself was under investigation as an attempt at “intimidation.”
Candidates themselves are not the only ones at risk.
Last week, the father of Saúl Trejo, Morena candidate for mayor of the nearby municipality of Tarimoro, was shot dead.
“Pursuing family members is a way to put pressure on the candidate,” said Alejandro, Ramírez’s son and campaign manager. “They may want to avoid a direct confrontation with the soldiers – but they can reach you indirectly.”
Soldiers guard not only Ramírez’s home, but also that of his daughter.
Still, Alejandro seemed optimistic about the risks of a family-oriented campaign.
“We’re used to it,” he said, before thinking for a moment. “Honestly, there’s a lot of joy when you’re campaigning. But sometimes I talk to the soldiers and they say little things. Like last night: we came in after midnight and they told me a blue Kia had followed us. And suddenly you are aware of what is happening.”
Attacks on politicians are just “the tip of the iceberg” when it comes to criminal attempts to influence elections and enter the state, Ernst said.
Violence extends both beyond the campaign trail and to a broader range of actors. “Behind a murdered politician are certainly journalists, activists and religious leaders who have been attacked,” said Sandra Ley of the non-profit organization México Evalúa.
Such attacks have become increasingly common over the last few governments, without any action by any party.
In some parts of Mexico, criminal control is now such that it is difficult to claim that free and fair elections are taking place.
“In [the state of] Guerrero, there are places where organized crime groups control many aspects of life – not just the political, but also the economic and social,” said Mónica Meltis, executive director of Data Cívica, which tracks political violence. “They determine when people can leave their homes.
“And then you have to wonder who is selected to make decisions [in government]” added Meltis. “They are certainly people with similarities to organized crime groups.”
Overall, political violence is associated with lower turnout – perhaps due to voters’ perception that candidates are pre-selected by criminal groups, or to the fear of violence during the voting itself.
In Celaya, the consequences of Gaytán’s murder will not become clear until June 2.
“It’s ugly to say it, but with the murder of Gisela, the voting intention for Morena has increased,” said Ramírez.
“We tell people to vote as if they were going to the market or taking the children to school. To vote as if it were just another day,” Ramírez said. “To vote despite the fear we all have.”
