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Cartel Denies Alleged Mass ‘Extermination’ Camp at Remote Mexico Ranch

  • Writer: 17GEN4
    17GEN4
  • Mar 19
  • 6 min read

Teuchitlán, Jalisco — March 19, 2025 In a chilling discovery that has reignited national outrage over Mexico’s epidemic of violence and disappearances, a volunteer search group uncovered what they describe as a mass “extermination camp” on an abandoned ranch in the western state of Jalisco earlier this month. The site, located near the rural village of La Estanzuela in the municipality of Teuchitlán, approximately 37 miles west of Guadalajara, has drawn widespread attention after the group, known as the Guerreros Buscadores de Jalisco (Jalisco Warrior Searchers), found cremation ovens, charred human remains, and hundreds of personal belongings—including over 200 pairs of shoes—scattered across the property. However, in a rare public response, the powerful Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG), widely believed to be linked to the site, has denied operating a mass extermination facility, dismissing the claims as exaggerated and accusing search groups of fabricating a “horror movie” narrative to tarnish their image.


The discovery, first reported on March 5, has sent shockwaves through a nation already grappling with more than 124,000 missing persons and a relentless wave of cartel-related violence. Mexican authorities have launched a federal investigation into the site, dubbed the “ranch of horror” by local media, while activists and families of the disappeared demand answers about how such a gruesome operation could have gone undetected—or unreported—by state officials for so long. The controversy has also cast a shadow over the early presidency of Claudia Sheinbaum, who took office in October 2024, and raised fresh questions about the government’s ability to confront organized crime.


The Guerreros Buscadores de Jalisco, a collective of citizens searching for missing loved ones, arrived at the Izaguirre Ranch following an anonymous tip suggesting the presence of a mass grave. What they encountered surpassed their worst fears. Armed with shovels, picks, and metal bars, the volunteers unearthed three underground cremation ovens, hundreds of bone fragments, and a haunting collection of personal items: shoes piled in heaps, clothing, backpacks, and even a notebook containing a handwritten farewell letter that read, “My love, if one day I don’t come back, I only ask you to remember how much I love you.” The group also reported finding figurines of Santa Muerte, a folk saint often revered by cartel members, adding to suspicions of criminal involvement.


Indira Navarro, a leader of the search collective, described the scene as evidence of a systematic operation. “This ranch served as a training site and—for lack of a better word—an extermination center,” she told reporters earlier this month. Navarro and her team believe the site was used by the CJNG, one of Mexico’s most violent and powerful cartels, to forcibly recruit young men and women, train them as foot soldiers, and dispose of those who resisted or failed to meet expectations. Anonymous survivors, speaking to the group and Mexican media, have alleged that recruits were lured to the area with false job offers—advertised as security guards, electricians, or farm workers—only to be kidnapped and subjected to brutal military-style training. Those who attempted to escape or underperformed were allegedly killed, their bodies incinerated in the makeshift ovens.


The scale of the discovery has stunned even seasoned observers of Mexico’s drug war. Among the nearly 700 personal items recovered were children’s toys and a Bible containing photographs of young children, suggesting that entire families may have been targeted. Jalisco state authorities later confirmed finding 96 shell casings of various calibers and six groups of charred bones, though the number of victims remains unclear pending forensic analysis. “The number of victims that presumably could have been buried there is enormous,” Eduardo Guerrero, a security analyst based in Mexico City, told international media. “It’s a nightmarish reminder that Mexico is plagued with mass graves.”


In an unexpected twist, the CJNG responded to the allegations in a video circulating on social media this week. The cartel, known for its sophisticated propaganda efforts, denied operating a mass extermination camp at the ranch. A masked speaker, flanked by armed men, claimed the site had been misrepresented by activists and accused the Guerreros Buscadores of distorting facts to create a sensationalized narrative. “This is not what they say it is,” the speaker asserted, without offering an alternative explanation for the ovens, remains, and personal effects. The cartel framed the accusations as an attack on its reputation, a curious defense from an organization notorious for its brutality and designated a foreign terrorist organization by the U.S. government in February 2025.


The denial has done little to quell public outrage. Across Mexico, protests erupted over the weekend, with families of the disappeared marching in Guadalajara and Mexico City to demand justice and accountability. Demonstrators in the capital placed rows of shoes and lit candles in tribute to the missing, while voices like Rosario Magaña, whose son Carlos vanished in 2017 at age 19, underscored the desperation fueling the movement. “I still feel desperate after eight years,” Magaña said outside a church service held for the unidentified victims of the ranch. “The authorities know the CJNG’s modus operandi, yet we’re still in the same situation.”


The discovery has also intensified scrutiny of local and state authorities, particularly after it emerged that the National Guard raided the Izaguirre Ranch in September 2024—six months before the searchers’ findings. During that operation, troops arrested 10 suspects, freed two hostages, and recovered a body wrapped in plastic, but no mention was made of cremation ovens or mass graves. Jalisco State Prosecutor Salvador González de los Santos, who visited the site on March 11, admitted that prior efforts were “insufficient” but offered no explanation for why the earlier investigation failed to uncover the evidence now dominating headlines. Critics, including human rights groups, have accused local officials of negligence—or worse, complicity—with the cartels, a charge Governor Pablo Lemus has vehemently denied. “No one in Jalisco is washing their hands of this case,” Lemus said in a video message, pledging full cooperation with federal investigators.


The revelations from Teuchitlán come at a pivotal moment for Mexico, where the crisis of forced disappearances has reached staggering proportions. According to government data, more than 124,000 people remain unaccounted for, a figure that reflects the pervasive influence of cartels like the CJNG, which dominate Jalisco and much of western Mexico. The group, led by elusive drug lord Nemesio Oseguera Cervantes, alias “El Mencho,” is known for its aggressive expansion, trafficking networks, and ruthless tactics, including mass killings and public displays of violence. The U.S. recently raised the bounty on El Mencho to $15 million, underscoring his status as one of the world’s most wanted criminals.


For President Sheinbaum, the scandal threatens to overshadow her administration’s early promises to reduce violence and address the plight of the disappeared. On March 12, she ordered the federal Attorney General’s Office, led by Alejandro Gertz Manero, to take over the investigation, vowing to uncover the truth. “The images are painful,” Sheinbaum said during a press conference. “We need to know what happened there before anything else.” Gertz, speaking on March 19, criticized the Jalisco state probe as flawed, noting that authorities had failed to test remains or alert federal officials after the September raid. However, he cautioned that it’s premature to classify the site as an “extermination center” without further evidence.


The controversy has also drawn international attention, with comparisons to historical atrocities like Auschwitz emerging in Mexican media—a characterization that has amplified the sense of horror. “The piles of shoes immediately evoke those conditions,” said José Ramón Cossío, a former Mexican Supreme Court justice, in a radio interview. For many, the site symbolizes not just the brutality of the cartels but the systemic failures of a government unable to protect its citizens or deliver justice.


As forensic teams comb the ranch and families scour photos of recovered items for traces of their loved ones, the Izaguirre Ranch remains a grim testament to Mexico’s ongoing tragedy. How long the site operated, how many lives were lost, and why it went undetected after the National Guard’s raid are questions that investigators are only beginning to unravel. The Guerreros Buscadores, meanwhile, continue their tireless work, driven by a mix of hope and despair. “It’s a slow process,” Navarro said, “but we won’t stop until we find answers.”


For now, the CJNG’s denial stands in stark contrast to the evidence unearthed by ordinary citizens—evidence that has forced Mexico to confront, once again, the depths of its violence and the enduring pain of its missing. As the investigation unfolds, the nation watches, waiting to see if this “ranch of horror” will mark a turning point—or simply become another chapter in a seemingly endless saga. 17GEN4.com




 
 
 

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