El marianismo, as defined by Evelyn Stevens is “the cult of feminine spiritual superiority”. While machismo elevates men to the detriment of men and women alike, Stevens argues that women are the sole beneficiaries of this ideology. Stevens fails, however, to acknowledge the ways in which marianismo traps women in behaviours that ultimately benefit men.

The story of how this myth or cult of imagery surrounding women began in the New World is still retold today. The church says that ten years after the conquistadors first set foot on Mexican soil, an indigenous convert saw a vision of the Holy Mother of God in Tepeyac just north of modern-day Mexico City. 

Before colonisation, this area was a significant place of worship for the indigenous people, where they worshipped their own mother figure Tonantzin. One of the first converts to Catholicism renamed Juan Diego saw the image of the virgin mother in place of Tonantzin. When this happened the priests and the Pope upheld this apparition as a testament to the power of God. 

Since then, Mestizo culture has rallied around this image of Our Lady of Guadalupe, turning it into a national icon. Later, when this apparition became the patroness of not only Mexico but the whole of Latin America, marianismo spread through the whole region. 

This cult of feminine spiritual superiority manifests in the duty of a good woman. 

Una Buena Mujer is one that fully embodies the image of the weeping mother, dutiful wife, and chaste daughter. These three dimensions govern much of what femininity meant and, in some places, still means in Mexico and Latin America. The belief that women have this spiritual superiority endows them with a heavy burden, that which they must carry with piety and grace. This comes with the recognition that men not only don’t have this same burden but are also not capable of handling this sacred duty. 

It is the belief that men could never be held to the same standards as women gives them the leeway to be violent, insolent and unproductive while still maintaining their superiority. Under a system of marianismo, women are at once exalted and persecuted, trapped in this mantle of the virgin mother. While machismo is the “exaltation of the masculine to the detriment of the constitution and feminine essence”, marianismo is about the exaltation of the feminine in the service of men. 

Una Buena Mujer doesn’t ask more of the men around her, she is submissive and accepting of their failures. As Stevens says in her paper: “Beneath the submissiveness, however, lies the strength of her conviction - shared by the entire society-- that men must be humored”. Women have been pictured in the region as the backbone of the society, filling in the gaps where the men in their lives falter. Yet, this is seen as her duty not her sacrifice. The problem of this myth, this cult of female superiority is that it is not to her benefit but to her detriment all the same. 

Under a system of machismo, womanhood is a vehicle, a functional space in society. Women are first daughters, chase and meek. Then they are wives and dutiful homemakers. Until finally they are mothers pious, caring and grieving. The perfect image of the Virgin Mother herself. But what comes next? Where do they go after they have fulfilled their purpose? After they have long overstayed their welcome? They die. 

Women exist in this macho society in relation to and for the pleasure of men. This is what life used looked like, especially in the underdeveloped Northern towns and villages. But the growing pressures of international debts, free trade agreements, and multinational corporations with shaky moral values have caught up with the developing nation. 

The idea of “una buena mujer” is deeply entrenched in most of Latin America, and while many young women have begun to challenge it, in states like Chihuahua the most radical stance in opposition to this archetype is the image of the working woman.

One of the drivers of the violence in Juarez is the invasion of global capitalist structures that have expanded the role of women in the workforce. While in much of Mexico globalisation has brought with it widespread development and a movement towards social justice, in the north, it has given rise to a wave of violence that threatens to drown the women that live there. 

The Maquiladora industry has swept over much of the northern states, as a part of the “Programa de Industrialización Fronteriza” (the Border Industrialisation Program or BIP).  The industry is synonymous with Mexican manufacturing, and features a variety of assembly line factories producing a wide range of export goods. The industry exploded under this program which allowed for foreign (and local) businesses to import machinery and raw materials essentially duty-free to industrialise and further develop the country, but particularly Northern states like Chihuahua. 

Before BIP was introduced in 1965, PRONAF, an initiative geared towards improving infrastructure and creating jobs in border states, led to the construction of huge factories. When la Programa de Industrialización Fronteriza was introduced, foreign manufacturers began to use it as a way to import raw materials and export consumer goods at lower prices than ever before. 

In the new era of global free trade agreements, the introduction of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) in the ’90s propelled this once small fledgling industry into the economic powerhouse we know it to be today. As more North American investors saw the opportunity that came with mostly duty-free raw materials and little import taxes, Maquiladoras became a major means of production for primarily exported goods. But the rapid expansion of commercial spaces and central Mexican populations has led these factory jobs to be relegated to the North.

The industry has shifted Mexico’s socioeconomic landscape, but its greatest impact has been on the women in cities like Juarez. BIP failed to improve infrastructure in the North, it failed to bring the radical development it promised, and where it aimed to bring better jobs it has instead brought a second wave of indentured servitude.

Most workers at these factories are young women, from rural areas that surround cities like Juarez. And they have been targeted for stepping outside of their traditional role as women. A role which is rooted in religious dogma and machista oppression. We cannot pretend that this role exists in a cultural vacuum, it is inherently cultural. Machismo and marianismo have combined in the society to put forth an image of womanhood that is purposefully one dimensional. It is that picture perfect image of the barefoot pregnant housewife that dominates the minds of the many men who are outraged by female participation in the workforce.

Wright, in her research into the femicides that have erupted post-NAFTA, claims that it is the devaluation of female work under this new capitalist structure that has further devalued their lives. They have been made pawns in the capitalist game of low starting costs and high profits that characterises the modern Maquiladora industry.

Life in the industry is, however, highly undesirable. Much of the social friction that comes with women taking up space in this sector is rooted in them stepping out of their traditional roles and family structures. Women in this industry have been reportedly paid 25% less than the minimum wage, many have had miscarriages attributed to the long hours of menial labour. What infuriates the men in the society is this sense that women are being ripped from their homes, their proper duties, to focus instead on the working world. 

Women working in the Maquila industry put their lives on the line day in and day out. Immediately after the introduction of NAFTA which sparked this mass expansion of the industry in the 90’s, the homicide rate for women spiked by 600%. Every day as these women leave their homes in the early morning they feel the threat. As they make the march with the others in their communities and approach the company bus, they notice the women who went missing the night before. They know all too well that they could be next. And yet, they persist. 

They don’t have many options. 

They have already given up so much to simply be here. Leaving behind their families and communities to move to this new city and entering into this line of work the predicates on their oppression. The Maquila industry has incited the mass migration of vulnerable, poor, independent women to cities like Juarez. 

Where they are then preyed on by two systems; one that turns their victimhood into profit and another that turns it into symbolism. 

Late at night as shifts end there is little to protect these women. The city is underdeveloped, the buses run late and the street lights don’t work. There are men who see this as the perfect time to exact their revenge, release their anger, and express their frustrations. These murders are brutal. They are deliberate and painful, they leave the women’s bodies mangled and bruised. 

While there is little consensus between NGOs, academics, and politicians on who exactly is responsible for these crimes, the guaranteed side effect of this industry’s expansion is the increased vulnerability of these women. 

The system of capitalism that degrades these women, their labour and their economic value is the same system that degrades them culturally. It is a system that stands firm in the belief that women are superior in a singular dimension, the spiritual, and that men have dominion over all other dimensions in which people exist. Even that minor superiority diminishes, fading into the background of a world that is increasingly less focused on fate and more on profit. 

Capitalism is a patriarchal invention, and the pressures of global capitalism have only come to further gendered divides, not close them. But as Stevens observed in her research Latinx women have long been silent, and as she argues, unaware of this oppression. This is the crux of the issue. 

As these women step out of the mantel, that has secretly been their cage, they are grasping for feminist empowerment. Their work is degrading, their employers degrade them, but their empowerment is their financial freedom. The perpetrators of these crimes are well aware of what the working woman means, the power she holds. 

These murders, whether they are truly serial killers or simply gang members, are targeting these women because they have so boldly taken this step. When women are stuck in the social construct of marianismo, they are also stuck in the exaltation it gives them. They are trapped by terms of praise, the sense of piety that ultimately oppresses them further. 

Joining the workforce signifies a transition into the feminist culture that dominates in central Mexico. This minor empowerment and freedom is opening the door for Northern women to find the same emancipation from this subtle condemnation that so many of their compatriots have. With every protest, every riot, these women are firmly asserting themselves and affirming their human value. 

Asserting a value that exists outside of the spiritual, that takes its form in those fields they have so frequently been shunned from. The act of working in this industry while it oppresses them in a way that is much more overt, it is allowing them the chance to gain access to that feminism which has been previously unknown to them. These women are becoming educated, financially liberated and firmly aware of their own oppression. 

The infiltration of the Maquiladora industry into the fabric of  the Mexican economy represents many new and formidable threats. But it also represents a time of great, incomprehensible change. The agency and bravery these women are expressing as they take these first unsure steps outside of this caging mantel of the virgin mother, are laying the foundation for change.

Many activist movements and organisations have started in protest of the murders and as a way of providing support to the victims of gender violence in their communities.. The groups of women that have started to highlight these issues and call out for their rights are worth reading and learning about. We at the Whorticulturalist encourage you to do so. Here are some links to NGOs and feminist collectives from Jurarez and other cities and areas in the North of Mexico:

Casa Amiga is an organisation that provides immediate aid to women suffering from the violence in Juarez. If you click the link you can donate directly to them via paypal.

Ni En More is an organisation of women in Juarez that are combating the format of maquila work directly, they produce textiles and clothing that are rooted in activist foundations. You can donate and learn more about them here.

Ella Tienen Nombre maps the femicides in Juarez, with data going back all the way to the 90’s. This is a great resource to stay up to date on the realities of the violence, and you can see all the amazing work that is being done here.

Hayley is an emerging writer and journalist who works hard to create work that is fiercely feminist, anti racist and anti oppression on a whole. You can check out more of her work and content on her instagram @hayley.headley