This mayor crusaded against cartels in Mexico. Now his assassination haunts his city

URUAPAN, Mexico -- Three armored cars and two military trucks packed with armed bodyguards carry Mayor Grecia Quiroz through the streets of Uruapan, the Mexican city where her partner was gunned down during Day of the Dead celebrations nearly a year ago.

Carlos Alberto Manzo gained a reputation as a mayor crusading against cartels, a thorn in the side of criminals and political powerbrokers. But a year later — even as Quiroz has succeeded him and vowed to continue his fight — the targeted assassination casts a pall over a region long haunted by violence.

“No one can fill his void,” said Quiroz, who is escorted around the clock by 60 federally appointed bodyguards. “I’m extremely worried that if tomorrow, something happens to me, what will (my children) do without a father and a mother?”

Manzo was among at least 13 mayors killed across Mexico in the two years since Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum took office, according to an Associated Press tally based on official reports. That compares with 23 sitting mayors killed during the previous administration's six years in office, according to civil society groups.

The killings present a challenge for Sheinbaum as the Trump administration presses her government to crack down on cartels and root out corruption in local governments.

‘Fighting to clean up this filth that’s killing us all’

Political violence has long been part of Mexico’s cartel conflict, but it rarely touches the highest ranks of government. Cartels instead target local leaders, either corrupting them or killing those who stand in their way. Such killings often silence voices that threaten or interfere with cartel profits, said Miguel Meza, a researcher at the investigative organization Narcopoliticos.

In Uruapan, 250 miles (400 km) west of Mexico City, Manzo's killing has sowed fear and uncertainty within his grassroots opposition Sombrero Movement, where he's gone from leader to martyr. The aftermath has fueled a bitter political fight dividing Mexico's central Michoacan state over who was behind his death. At the same time, the city has been marked with a recent burst of violence as some criticize Quiroz for failing to carry on her partner's fight against crime.

“They didn’t just kill the mayor, they killed the person who was leading this fight against cartels, a symbolic leader,” Meza said.

Those close to Manzo long feared that his campaign against criminal groups would inevitably end exactly as it did: with a bullet in his chest.

In Michoacan, where cartels often wield more influence than the government, Manzo gained political notoriety for taking the fight against cartels into his own hands and also openly challenged Mexico’s ruling party, Morena, up until the week of his death.

He was often criticized for heavy-handed tactics that became as central to his image as mayor as the white sombrero always perched on his head. That included publicly instructing police to use lethal force on criminals resisting arrest or attacking civilians. He personally directed patrols, searches and arrests, urged parents to report their children's criminal activity and publicized confrontations with criminals on his social media.

“We’re fighting to clean up this filth that’s killing us all,” Manzo said in one video.

A public murder triggers a political rift

The public assassination of Manzo in the city’s crowded main plaza, cloaked in marigold flowers, shocked the country on a day when many criminal groups quietly set down their weapons as families honor their dead.

It also triggered a political feud marked by rival factions slinging accusations at one another of exploiting Manzo’s death to profit politically ahead of local elections.

Federal and state authorities have blamed the killing on one of Mexico’s most powerful cartels, the Jalisco New Generation Cartel, or CJNG, one of the more than 20 criminal groups designated foreign terrorist organizations by the Trump administration. Quiroz accused state officials in Sheinbaum’s party who were long at odds with Manzo and Quiroz's political movement and criminal groups of being behind the death.

As Quiroz prepared the city for Day of the Dead this week, she said she was haunted by the memory of Manzo meticulously preparing the previous year's celebration.

“It's all come back to me like a countdown of what happened that last week he was alive," she said. "He poured his body and soul into this.”

Authorities have detained 34 people in connection with Manzo's killing as state prosecutors have described a complex conspiracy that they say extended to Manzo’s inner circle.

Among those detained are seven of the mayor’s bodyguards who were with him when he was attacked, members of his government accused of leaking his movements, and Manzo’s own godson, who is accused of helping plan his assassination, according to prosecutors.

On Thursday, prosecutors announced the detention of the city's current secretary of welfare on accusations of obstruction of justice. They said she was related to two alleged CJNG members arrested for Manzo's killing.

Quiroz herself has also come under scrutiny as she has declined to turn over Manzo’s cellphone to prosecutors. Manzo’s brother, a member of Morena in the state government now at odds with Quiroz, has accused her of defending some of those detained after the killing.

“I can’t directly accuse her,” Juan Manzo said. “But the reality is that she has covered for many of those responsible for the murder of her children’s father. She has not been transparent during the investigation.”

Quiroz has denied the accusations, and said her family was “betrayed” by those closest to them.

“Slandering us, resorting to dirty tactics and low blows has never stopped us and never will,” she told members of her political movement.

'We cannot allow violence to become our new normal'

As the political rift has deepened, Uruapan has experienced a surge of violence in recent weeks.

Just over the weekend, a masked man on a motorcycle shot two women working at a taco stand, killing one. The same day, local media reported that police found two men, one who had died, in an avocado field with severe burns and signs of torture. State authorities said they have documented 17 killings, eight gunshot injuries, four attacks on businesses and homes and a series of robberies in October.

The violence prompted Quiroz to request help from Sheinbaum’s government.

“We cannot allow violence to become our new normal," she wrote Sunday on X. “Uruapan deserves to live in peace.”

On Tuesday, state authorities sent 200 law enforcement officers to boost security in the city.

Some residents, including store owner David Vázquez, said extortions by local mafias have mounted since Manzo was killed, forcing his family to temporarily close down their business.

He expressed resentment watching the fleet of state bodyguards escorting Quiroz, saying “they only protect her and her family.” Others said that they had not been affected by the violence and believed Quiroz was doing her best in the face of trauma.

Meanwhile, Manzo's presence still looms over Uruapan. Posters and busts paying tribute to him paint the plaza where he was killed. His grave, open to the public, is covered with flowers, food offerings and white sombreros.

“Not a single step backward,” the headstone reads.

___

Janetsky reported from Mexico City. Associated Press photojournalist Eduardo Verdugo Tucto contributed to this report from Uruapan, Mexico.