El Chapo does not speak, but he certainly writes. More than once, Joaquín Guzmán has taken pen to paper to send messages from prison—and even while still at liberty. Writing, yes; speaking, no: during the trial against him—which resulted in his life imprisonment at a facility in Colorado—he refused to speak in his own defense before the jury; that was the strategy. However, doing so would have also entailed facing cross-examination, and that may well have been another reason for him to conclude that he was better off defending himself through silence.
It is in this light that his latest letter can be understood—one in which he requests “fair treatment” in the face of the “cruel and inhumane treatment” he claims to be receiving at that prison, which is not without reason dubbed “The Alcatraz of the Rockies.”
El Chapo now writes in English—a language he has been learning during the years he has spent incarcerated in the United States. Although his written English is rudimentary, he manages to make himself understood, reiterating the same themes found in previous letters addressed to Judge Cogan, the man who sentenced him: acts of torture and solitary confinement, mistreatment, and a lack of proper nutrition.
History presents itself first as tragedy, and then as farce. These letters from El Chapo—both the recent one and those preceding it—represent a repetition of his own story. If the “Trial of the Century”—held between 2018 and 2019—sought to emphasize and demonstrate the tragedy inherent in his leadership as a dangerous drug lord commanding a powerful criminal enterprise responsible for trafficking narcotics that kill thousands through consumption and the violence they incite, now, with these letters, that same story returns—but this time, as a farce.
The fact that El Chapo would write to plead for mercy—citing mistreatment, poor nutrition, and even torture—would seem like a cruel and macabre joke, were it not for the fact that it is true; the letter itself stands as proof. El Chapo now appeals to the Constitution, to his Mexican citizenship, and to the respect of his rights. Yet another unprecedented farce. When writing in Spanish, El Chapo used cursive; however, in English, he writes in block letters. He uses blue ink and a small, well-formed, legible hand. It reads without difficulty, and he even underlines key points—such as his claim that he is entitled to equal protection, that his rights have been violated, or the identity of the letter’s recipient: the District Judge who sentenced him to life imprisonment—though he never actually writes out the judge’s name.
