Government officials travel secure and unafraid. Teachers have no such resources.
En la mañana del lunes, el gobernador de Chiapas proclamó desde Tuxtla Gutiérrez que la vida en el estado seguía su curso normal tras la muerte del líder cartelero El Mencho, una figura cuya caída desató una ola de violencia que costó la vida a veinticinco miembros de las fuerzas armadas. Sin embargo, entre las declaraciones oficiales y la experiencia cotidiana de maestros, padres y estudiantes se abrió una grieta profunda: las aulas permanecieron vacías en las principales ciudades, no por decreto, sino por el peso silencioso del miedo. Es una tensión tan antigua como el poder mismo —la distancia entre quienes declaran la paz y quienes deben caminar por los caminos donde esa paz aún no ha llegado.
- La muerte de El Mencho encendió un fin de semana de violencia en México que sacudió la vida cotidiana de Chiapas, dejando a comunidades enteras en estado de alerta.
- Veinticinco soldados y marinos murieron en el operativo, una cifra que el gobernador reconoció con solemnidad pero que no alteró su mensaje central: el estado funciona con normalidad.
- Escuelas en Tuxtla Gutiérrez, Tapachula, San Cristóbal de las Casas y Villaflores cerraron sus puertas el lunes, una decisión tomada por maestros y padres al margen de la autorización oficial.
- Los docentes que viajan a comunidades remotas alzaron la voz en redes sociales: los funcionarios del gobierno circulan con escolta armada, mientras ellos recorren los mismos caminos peligrosos sin protección alguna.
- El aparato de seguridad coordinado —militares, secretarías, inteligencia nacional— fue exhibido por el gobernador como prueba de control, pero las aulas vacías ofrecieron una respuesta más elocuente que cualquier comunicado oficial.
El gobernador Eduardo Ramírez Aguilar se presentó el lunes ante Chiapas con un mensaje de calma: la muerte de Rubén Nemesio Oceguera Cervantes, El Mencho, no había roto el orden en el estado. Las operaciones coordinadas entre fuerzas federales y estatales continuarían, dijo, protegiendo los 124 municipios, sus carreteras y cabeceras. En una reunión de seguridad esa mañana, reconoció el sacrificio de los veinticinco integrantes de las fuerzas armadas caídos en combate durante el operativo, y elogió la coordinación entre el Ejército, la Secretaría de Seguridad Pública Federal y la Marina.
Pero la normalidad que proclamaba el gobernador no era la que vivían los ciudadanos. En Tuxtla Gutiérrez, Tapachula, San Cristóbal de las Casas y Villaflores, las escuelas no abrieron. Maestros, padres y directivos tomaron esa decisión por su cuenta, ignorando el comunicado de la Secretaría de Educación estatal que aclaraba no haber autorizado ninguna suspensión. La violencia del domingo había sido suficiente argumento.
Fueron los maestros que viajan a comunidades lejanas quienes pusieron en palabras la contradicción más incómoda. En redes sociales señalaron lo que todos sabían pero pocos decían: los funcionarios del gobierno, incluidos los de la propia Secretaría de Educación, se desplazan con protección armada. Los docentes recorren los mismos caminos, hacia los mismos lugares remotos, completamente solos.
Ramírez respaldó su declaración de normalidad en la maquinaria institucional: reuniones con mandos militares, coordinación con el fiscal, el Instituto Nacional de Migración, el Centro Nacional de Inteligencia. El estado trabajaba a plena capacidad, insistió. Pero las aulas vacías hablaban por sí solas. Mientras el gobernador declaraba la paz desde la capital, quienes debían moverse por los caminos de Chiapas habían hecho su propio cálculo y elegido quedarse en casa.
Governor Eduardo Ramírez Aguilar stood in Tuxtla Gutiérrez on Monday morning and told the state that Chiapas was functioning normally. The death of Rubén Nemesio Oceguera Cervantes—the cartel leader known as El Mencho—had triggered a wave of violence across Mexico over the weekend, but the governor insisted that peace and tranquility were guaranteed in his state. Coordinated operations between federal and state forces would continue, he said, protecting the 124 municipalities and their highways and municipal seats.
The operation that killed El Mencho had cost lives. Twenty-five members of the armed forces died in combat. At a security meeting that morning, Ramírez acknowledged their sacrifice and their families' grief, and he praised General Ricardo Trevilla and the coordination between the military, the Federal Public Security Secretariat, and the Navy for what he called effective results.
But the governor's message of normalcy collided with the reality on the ground. Schools in Tuxtla Gutiérrez, Tapachula, San Cristóbal de las Casas, and Villaflores did not open on Monday. Teachers, parents, and school administrators had decided to close them, despite the state Education Secretariat's announcement that it had not authorized any suspension of classes. The violence of Sunday had been enough to override official policy.
The teachers who commute to schools in distant communities and municipalities were particularly vocal about their concerns. On social media, they pointed out the inequality in how safety was distributed: government officials traveled with protection, they wrote, moving through the state secure and unafraid. Teachers had no such resources. They were expected to travel the same roads, to the same remote areas, without the armed escort that shielded state functionaries—including those from the Education Secretariat itself.
Ramírez's assertion of normalcy rested on the machinery of security: the meetings with military commanders, the secretary of public safety, the state attorney general, the coordination with federal agencies including the National Migration Institute and the National Intelligence Center. The state was working at full capacity to serve its citizens, he said, in cooperation and trust with all these institutions.
Yet the empty classrooms told a different story. Parents and teachers had made their own calculation of risk, and they had decided that Monday was not a day to send children and educators into the state's municipalities. The governor could declare normalcy from the capital. The people who had to move through Chiapas's roads and towns had chosen caution instead.
Citações Notáveis
Peace and tranquility are guaranteed; Chiapas is in normal activities— Governor Eduardo Ramírez Aguilar
We don't have the resources to travel with protection like government officials do. They go well guarded, without fear— Teachers posting on social media
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
When a governor says everything is normal after a major cartel leader dies, what does he actually mean?
He means the state apparatus is functioning—security forces are coordinated, meetings are happening, operations are ongoing. It's a statement about institutional continuity, not about how people feel.
But schools closed anyway, even though the Education Secretariat said they shouldn't.
Right. That's the gap. Official policy said one thing; parents and teachers said another. They were responding to the same violence the governor acknowledged, but they didn't trust that the security operations had actually made things safe.
Why would teachers be more afraid than the governor?
Because they're the ones who have to travel. They don't have armed protection. A government official can move through the state with security. A teacher commuting to a rural school cannot. The governor's normalcy is built on infrastructure that doesn't protect everyone equally.
So the school closures are a kind of protest?
Not exactly a protest—more like a refusal to accept the official framing. Parents and teachers were saying: we see the same facts you do, but we're drawing different conclusions about safety. They were asserting their own judgment.
And the governor? Did he respond to that?
The source doesn't say he did. He kept talking about coordination and operations. The disconnect just sits there.