Written by: Mateo Campos-Seligman
In turbulent times such as these, I find comfort in looking back throughout history to other moments of upheaval in the face of injustice – specifically, at movements led by young people calling for change in the face of systemic oppression. One of the moments in history I keep returning to is the year 1968, where, no matter where on the globe you looked, students and activists and student activists were leading the countercultural charge that had begun with post-war decolonization (O’Hagan, 2008): Here in Oakland, for example, student activism had produced the Black Panther Party, and more broadly, the antiwar movement was in full swing.
In Europe, young people were the faces and bodies in the streets during labor demonstrations in France, facing Troubles in Ireland, protesting authoritarianism behind the Iron Curtain. Japanese university students were protesting the war in Vietnam by occupying campus buildings and holding mock trials. In South Africa, students organized a massive nine-day sit-in protesting apartheid practices at the University of Cape Town. You get the picture.
1968 was also an Olympics year, and the Summer Olympics were set to take place in Mexico City. Like much of Central and South America, Mexico served as another theatre of the Cold War, with a series of US-backed presidents and the entire state apparatus on one side, and a coalition of left-wing, student, and guerrilla fighting groups on the other. The entire summer of ‘68 had seen escalating clashes between law enforcement and protesters against the oppressive and authoritarian government. Though the protests remained largely non-violent, then-president Gustavo Diaz Ordaz saw the movements as bad optics for Mexico’s claim to the world’s stage, and – with support from and encouraged by the CIA agents whispering in his ear – resolved to violently suppress the movement. The culmination of this was, during a peaceful demonstration in Mexico City’s Plaza de las Tres Culturas numbering some ten thousand protestors, the Mexican Armed Forces open fire, committing what is now known as the Tlateloco Massacre. The date was October 2, 1968. Death toll numbers are disputed, ranging from the “official” count of 44 to the estimated 4500 (Trevor, 2008).
The effect of the massacre was immediate in that, for a time, the oppression continued, feeding on fear and distrust and a desire to not lose more loved ones to state gunfire. More massacres, both in Mexico and abroad. The proxy wars continued all over the world. Why am I telling you this? I know it is quite a downer, and that as it stands, this isn’t really a happy ending at all. But we now have the privilege and ability to look back at history and contextualize it, horrors and all. The Tlateloco Massacre was a tragedy, a violent example of corrupt government and a proven conspiracy against the leftist coalitions by the Mexican and US governments (Morley, 2017). It also was a catalyst for social change. The change just happened to come slowly, a few years later, through a series of social reforms under presidents Luis Echeverria and his successors. And even today, young people in Mexico and throughout the world continue to fight for change. Nobody is free until we are all free.
This is a collection of posters made by students in Mexico in the year 1968. The student movements of 1968 around the world produced innumerable pieces of art and graphics to strengthen the voices and ideas of their movements. Many of these pieces have been lost to time and to intentional destruction and/or as a result of the oppressive regimes from which they came.
A note on artists and artist credit: We know the artist who designed the cover image – the boy with the Olympic rings – is Adolfo Mexiac, a graphic artist known for his contributions supporting the student and activist movements in Mexico (Varela, 2022). And, according to the Museo Universitario de Arte Contemporaneo in Mexico, who for the 50th anniversary of the student movement in 2018 hosted an exhibition featuring these prints (de la Garza & Henaro, 2018):
Anonymity was a security measure when the movement went underground, and political repression escalated. Years later, many posters were attributed to specific artists, though this does not change their historical and political significance. We know that the most enduring images were produced by brigades that operated in the Former Academy of San Carlos, part of the UNAM, and in the “La Esmeralda” National School of Painting, Sculpture and Engraving, part of the INBA, where professors and students made the printmaking workshops available to the movement. I hope you derive inspiration and power from these graphics whose stories and ideals remain just as relevant today as they were nearly 60 years ago. I know I certainly do.
Further reading: https://oaklandlibrary.bibliocommons.com/v2/list/display/2495143089/2830068547
Sources
Bulent Gokay, & Ilia Xypolia. (2013). Reflections on Taksim–Gezi park protests in Turkey. Journal of Global Faultlines.
de la Garza, A., & Henaro, S. (2018). Gráfica del 68. Unam.mx. https://muac.unam.mx/exposicion/grafica-del-68?lang=en
Gutierrez, H. (2025). Mexico 1968 . . . no se olvida! Archive.org. https://web.archive.org/web/20071103072803/http://iteso.mx/~victorm/Mexico_1968.html
Morley, J. (2017). LITEMPO: Los ojos de la CIA en Tlatelolco. Gwu.edu. https://nsarchive2.gwu.edu//NSAEBB/NSAEBB204/index2.htm
O’Hagan, S. (2008, January 20). On the riots and protests of 1968. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2008/jan/20/1968theyearofrevolt.features
Trevor, R. (2008). The most terrifying night of my life. Bbc.co.uk; BBC. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/7646473.stm
Varela, E. (2022, September 7). Posters from the uprising. Unique at Penn. https://uniqueatpenn.wordpress.com/2022/09/07/posters-from-the-uprising/
Add a comment to: Hispanic Heritage Month: Student Posters from the 1968 Uprising