John Gibler stands as a crucial voice in understanding the complex realities of Mexico, particularly its struggles with state violence and human rights. As a journalist, author, and activist deeply immersed in the Mexican context, John Gibler has dedicated years to meticulously documenting and eloquently writing about the nation’s most pressing issues. His profound commitment to uncovering the truth is exemplified by his seminal work, I Couldn’t Even Imagine That They Would Kill Us: An Oral History of the Attacks Against the Students of Ayotzinapa. This book, published in 2017, remains the most authoritative account of the horrific events of September 26, 2014, when 43 students from the Ayotzinapa teacher training college disappeared. Gibler’s book uniquely compiles the harrowing testimonies of the students who survived the attacks, offering an unparalleled insight into the tragedy directly from those who lived through it.
In the inaugural episode of a compelling podcast series, John Gibler recounts the moment he learned about the Ayotzinapa student disappearances while at home in Mexico City. Driven by an urgent need to understand the unfolding events amidst media confusion and official disinformation, John Gibler immediately decided to travel to the Ayotzinapa teacher training school in Guerrero to begin his investigation. His early recordings of student testimonies from those initial, chaotic days following the attacks became invaluable. John Gibler generously shared these recordings with Anayansi Diaz-Cortes and Kate Doyle, the podcast creators. With the crucial consent of two students, Nico and Lalo, featured in the podcast, their powerful voices were incorporated into the audio narrative, adding a layer of authenticity and emotional depth to the story.
On January 19th, John Gibler engaged in a virtual conversation with Kate Doyle via Zoom to delve into his experiences reporting on the Ayotzinapa case from its inception. Their discussion explored his analysis of the disturbing collusion between government authorities and organized crime that led to one of Mexico’s most shocking human rights atrocities. What follows is a carefully condensed and edited transcript of their insightful conversation, offering a glimpse into the critical perspectives of John Gibler on this ongoing tragedy.
–Kate Doyle
An Interview with John Gibler on the Ayotzinapa Case
Doyle: Can you describe what prompted your decision to travel to Guerrero after you first heard about the attacks on the Ayotzinapa students?
Gibler: When news of the attacks broke, the situation was incredibly unclear. The media was filled with conflicting reports, and there was a palpable sense of disinformation coming from official sources. The sheer scale of the events was overwhelming, but what was missing was a clear, basic understanding of what had actually transpired that night. My initial reaction wasn’t driven by a specific book project or article in mind. Instead, I felt a pressing need to go to Guerrero and simply understand, in its most fundamental sense, what had happened. My primary objective was to document the events of that night, to piece together a journalistic reconstruction of the facts amidst the chaos and confusion. It was about finding out the truth.
Doyle: Interviewing young people who had just experienced such profound trauma must have been incredibly sensitive. How did you approach interviewing the Ayotzinapa students in the immediate aftermath of the attacks?
Gibler: Prior to the Ayotzinapa case, my reporting had often involved interviewing individuals who were either direct survivors or witnesses to deeply traumatic acts of state violence. This experience had led me to develop interviewing techniques focused on care and minimizing further trauma. My approach centers on creating a space where interviewees feel comfortable sharing their narratives at their own pace and in their own way. I focus on asking open-ended questions that encourage storytelling, and I make a conscious effort to avoid interrupting. It’s about giving them the time and space to lead the narrative in the direction they need to take it. Then, once they have shared their initial account, I might circle back to fill in specific details.
With the Ayotzinapa students, building trust and ensuring their comfort was paramount. Of course, I always asked for their explicit permission to record the interviews before we began. I also made sure to ask each student what name they preferred to use, and they all chose pseudonyms, varying in how obscure they were. During the interviews, I would place my tape recorder down and simultaneously take extensive notes in a notebook. This was a deliberate practice, a physical manifestation of active listening. My goal was to try and write down every word they said – an impossible task, of course. But the very act of trying forced me to listen with intense focus and use the notebook as a tool to resist interrupting. I would jot down arrows, stars, and brief notes to myself about points I wanted to revisit later. This note-taking became a personal method to enhance my listening and show respect for their process of sharing. Generally, I dislike interrupting anyone, but I feel it’s especially important to avoid interrupting someone who is recounting a traumatic experience. It’s a small but significant way to demonstrate reporter care and respect for their vulnerability.
Doyle: You were among a small group of journalists who were deeply involved in covering the Ayotzinapa case from the very beginning. Alongside yourself, I recall Marcela Turati, Sergio Ocampo, and Pepe Jiménez, among others. Can you speak to the role of the press in those crucial early days of the Ayotzinapa investigation?
Gibler: The local press in Guerrero responded to the events immediately, in real-time. As you mentioned, Sergio Ocampo and several of his colleagues received news of the attacks as they were actually happening, late on that Friday night. They quickly organized a small group of reporters to drive to Iguala, a dangerous undertaking, and began reporting as events unfolded. They arrived in Iguala around 1:30 in the morning, while the military was still present on the streets and roadblocks were still in place. Their firsthand accounts are incredibly valuable in documenting the atmosphere of the city at that hour. They described a city not terrorized by a gang invasion, as was later suggested, but a city completely controlled by institutional security forces – police and military. This direct observation was crucial in challenging the initial official narratives.
Doyle: Could you provide a specific example of what journalists were able to document that directly contradicted the official government narrative about what occurred in Iguala?
Gibler: One of the most striking early contradictions came from Marcela Turati’s reporting. She was the first journalist to interview the municipal trash workers from Cocula. These workers recounted that on Saturday, September 27, 2014, they drove out to the Cocula trash dump sometime between noon and 1:00 PM. They had waited until then because it had rained heavily all night, making the roads muddy. They waited for the sun to dry the road before going to dump trash at the empty Cocula dump around 1:00 PM and then leaving. This testimony directly clashed with the government’s official story, which claimed that at precisely 1:00 PM, a group of cartel members were incinerating the bodies of 43 students in a massive bonfire at that very same Cocula trash dump.
Doyle: The official narrative described it as one enormous bonfire.
Gibler: Exactly, one enormous bonfire. Once Marcela published her initial report detailing the trash workers’ account, the federal prosecutor’s office reacted by essentially kidnapping these municipal employees. They were taken to Mexico City, forced to sign documents they couldn’t read, and made to put their thumbprints on them. They were then sent home with a thinly veiled threat not to speak about what they had witnessed ever again. This heavy-handed response from the authorities further highlighted the discrepancies and the efforts to control the narrative.
Doyle: Have you or other journalists working on the Ayotzinapa case faced threats or intimidation?
Gibler: I personally have not received direct, overt threats. However, I did experience attempts at digital espionage. I received email attempts to install Pegasus, the Israeli spyware, on my phone. These emails were disguised as official communications from the Mexican IRS, containing PDF links designed to deliver the spyware.
But in many ways, the overall environment itself feels inherently threatening. Often, direct, explicit threats might not even be the most “cost-effective” approach for those in power anymore. I recall something Javier Valdez, the renowned journalist from Sinaloa who was tragically assassinated in 2017, told me in an interview back in 2010. When I asked him if he had ever been threatened, he responded, “You know, they don’t have to threaten you directly here. The entire overarching context is a life and death threat. You understand that you can be killed, and nothing will happen.” This pervasive sense of impunity is the real threat.
Doyle: For someone unfamiliar with the Ayotzinapa case, a central question remains: how can 43 young people be abducted in a public place, witnessed by many, and yet years later, the case remains unsolved, and the students are still missing?
Gibler: I think there are two fundamental aspects to understanding this. First, the very institutions that are ostensibly tasked with investigating “crimes” of this nature are, in reality, deeply implicated in carrying them out. This isn’t about isolated instances of corruption involving a single police officer or a local mayor. We’re talking about systemic involvement: local police, state police, federal police, and the Mexican army, all operating in concert, using their official communication channels, cell phone technology, and official vehicles, all acting with complete impunity.
It might sound counterintuitive, but the concept of “corruption” itself can be used to obscure a more profound truth: that police and military institutions are directly involved in the transnational drug trafficking industry. If you simply attribute these events to “corruption,” you suggest that it’s merely a matter of money influencing individuals, that inevitably some police officer or colonel can be bought off. But that explanation is insufficient. The reality is that these institutions are direct participants at every level of the transnational narcotics industry and its associated criminal enterprises, like local extortion and kidnapping.
So, how is this level of impunity and invisibility maintained? The first part of the answer is that the full power of the state is deployed to ensure disappearances are successful. The very entities responsible for investigating atrocities are often those perpetrating them. This is the first level of the problem.
The second crucial element is the pervasive disinformation that saturates popular culture regarding the narco world, drug cartels, and the nature of drug-related violence. The mythologized version portrays cartels as overwhelmingly powerful, capable of buying anyone, overpowering the state, and possessing superior weaponry compared to the army. This narrative suggests they can get away with anything.
Doyle: And that the army is powerless to stop them.
Gibler: Exactly, and that the army is powerless. This is a key part of the discourse! It’s used to justify calls for increased funding for the army and state security forces, more U.S. assistance, training, and weapons. Yet, paradoxically, every time more resources are poured into the so-called “drug war,” the drug business itself expands. This is because those very “drug warriors” – the army, the police, state security forces – are directly enmeshed in the day-to-day operations of the industry. In many ways, they are the cartels.
The crucial point in the Ayotzinapa case is that those who apprehended the students, transported them, secured the town, and protected the perpetrators were not just rogue elements. They were police from three different municipalities, state police, federal police, and the Mexican Armed Forces. They acted in coordination that night.
“After Ayotzinapa” is a product of a two-year collaboration between the National Security Archive and Reveal News from the Center for Investigative Reporting. Reported and co-produced by Kate Doyle, senior analyst at the National Security Archive, and Anayansi Diaz-Cortes, senior reporter at Reveal, this three-part series unravels the narrative of the months and years following the forced disappearance of 43 college students in Guerrero, Mexico, on September 26, 2014. Part Two, entitled “Cover-Up,” airing on January 22nd, delves into the botched initial investigation and the exposure of government obstruction. Part Three, “All Souls,” airing on January 29th, examines the efforts of a new government to overcome the cover-up and genuinely advance the pursuit of truth and justice for the 43 missing students. Listeners can access the series in three convenient ways: through their preferred podcast app such as [Apple Podcasts](https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/reveal/id886009669), [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/show/51CN011CgUdG7EUfm7cXF7?si=f2R4_yD_QAS0mpnf9XivlQ&nd=1), or [Stitcher](https://www.stitcher.com/show/the-reveal); directly on Reveal’s [website](https://revealnews.org/); and on [radio stations](https://revealnews.org/where-to-hear-reveal/) across the United States.
