Originally published on It’s Going Down.
September 26, 2025, marks 11 years since the State attack on students from the Ayotzinapa Rural Normal School in Iguala, Guerrero, during which six people were killed, 25 wounded, and 43 students disappeared. The following is the transcript of a Spanish-language audio segment produced by Radio Cósmica Libre in collaboration with the efforts of Communicators for Palestine. It is based on information provided by Eduardo Ibañez from the Mexico City Encampment for the 43. It has been translated into English by Scott Campbell.
Mexico, September 26, 2014. Palestine, July 2014. Two dates that seem unrelated but that resonate with a shared echo.
That night in Iguala, 43 campesino students were uprooted from their dormitories, from their classrooms, from their dreams. That summer in Gaza, more than 2,000 Palestinian lives were taken in a matter of weeks by the military machinery of Israel. What connects a young normalista from Guerrero with a Palestinian girl who will never become a teenager? The answer is in the language of State violence, in the economy of death that connects the Mexican narco-state with Israeli necropolitics.
It is a long story. In Mexico, the rural normal schools emerged in the 1930s to educate the children of poor campesinos and to train teachers committed to their communities. In Palestine, the Nakba of 1948 inaugurated a life under occupation, dispossession, and forced displacement.
Two processes that appear distinct but that share the experience of peoples who were denied the right to exist in conditions of dignity. In 2014, the stories intersected. While Gaza suffered bombardments during July and August, students from the Ayotzinapa rural normal school went out into the streets of Mexico to protest in solidarity.
Just one month later, they themselves were victims of forced disappearance and murder in Iguala. The disappearance did not just erase bodies, it also condemned mothers, sisters, and wives to a life of interminable searching. State violence produces widows, orphans, mutilated families, communities condemned to permanent mourning.
State crime has no passport. Governments that kill in the name of security learn from one another. Necropolitics speaks many languages, but death always says the same thing: “You don’t matter.”
Continue reading







