Illegal Cargo

by Matt Peters

Content Advisory: Strong language and brief depictions of military conflict and gang violence

The anguish of searching for a missing loved one is the central theme of Illegal Cargo, a graphic novel by author and illustrator Augusto Mora. Mora embeds that theme in a story about the many perils that undocumented immigrants face on their journeys from Central and South America to the United States.

The main character in Illegal Cargo is José Sendero, a father in El Salvador whose long history of economic and personal hardships has led to a life of excessive drinking. To tell José’s backstory, Mora makes use of sparse but evocative details. Mora’s narrative makes brief mention of the Salvadoran Civil War (1980 – 1992) and the gang warfare that filled its aftermath—and alludes to the economic wreckage that accompanied both. Those conditions caused José to lose most of his family. He lost his wife to illness, one child to addiction, and another child to gang violence. His only remaining child, Helena, is now gone from his life as well, having grown up and left El Salvador to find better opportunities in California, joining the many migrants who cross into the United States on foot or by other means. Like that of many other undocumented immigrants from Central and South America, Helena’s journey to the U.S. required travel through Mexico, a common corridor due to the long border it shares with the U.S.

Illegal Cargo opens not long after Helena’s departure. Now alone, José spends much of his time drinking, letting alcohol fill the void his family left. Resigned to his quiet days of solitude, José’s life is turned upside down when an unexpected visitor shows up at his home. The visitor introduces herself as Kassie and explains that she recently met Helena at an immigrant shelter in Mexico. “I’m a journalist and I’m making a documentary about immigration to the USA” (page 3, panel 6), she explains. Kassie tells José that she was corresponding with Helena by email until Helena’s replies came to an abrupt stop. “The last time she emailed me was from a place called Lecheria in Mexico City’s suburbs,” Kassie continues (page 4, panel 5). Concerned that Helena might be in danger, Kassie subsequently tracked down José to let him know.

José’s first reaction is denial. He refuses to believe that Helena is in danger. He tells himself he should ignore what Kassie told him. Before long, however, he is haunted by the possibility that he could lose the last of his three children. José’s haunting starts to appear in the form of La Siguanaba, a shape-shifting figure from Central American folklore. La Siguanaba is traditionally a being that warns men about romantic infidelity, at first by enchanting them and then by terrifying them. She captures their attention by appearing as a beautiful woman, but after she lures them near, she turns into a ghastly figure with a horse skull for a head. In Illegal Cargo, however, Mora repurposes the folkloric character to be a messenger of family loyalty and parental conscience—one that speaks in ominous tones about their urgency in José’s situation. Compelled by La Siguanaba to find Helena, José embarks on a long journey to Central Mexico, his mind now focused on the road ahead instead of his next drink of alcohol. José effectively becomes a migrant himself, even if his ultimate goal is finding his daughter rather than entering the United States.

To craft the story of José’s journey, Mora, who is based in Mexico City, researched the real-life experiences of Central and South American migrants who travel through Mexico on their way to the U.S. According to Mora’s afterword, his research included observing migrants who used the industrial rail lines around Mexico City to ride “La Bestia” (“The Beast”), the informal name for a group of freight trains that run through Mexico toward the U.S.-Mexico border. Migrants hop on the trains for travel and hop back off when they need food or other necessities.

José’s journey weaves together what Mora learned, dramatizing the many dangers migrants face. Criminals frequently prey on them, knowing that migrants often have significant amounts of cash on them when they begin their journeys. Human traffickers, meanwhile, find migrants themselves valuable, since they can be used for (or sold for) forced labor, forced marriage, commercial sexual exploitation, organ harvesting, and other forms of abuse and servitude. Both circumstances put migrants in the crosshairs of gang violence. They often face these acute dangers while more insidious dangers like heat exhaustion are a lingering threat. For José, those stresses were compounded with his intense worry about his daughter’s safety.

Along with the harrowing aspects of migrant travel, Mora sought to highlight the acts of mercy and humanity that often sustain migrants on their long journeys. In his research, Mora spent time familiarizing himself with human rights movements, social organizations, and community groups that provide food, shelter, and other support to migrants. At various points in Illegal Cargo, fictionalized versions of those groups help José through the obstacles he encounters.

In addition to those organized forms of support, Mora pays homage to the informal care networks that form among migrants. A key character in Illegal Cargo is a fellow migrant who befriends José and provides moral support and key information about train routes and migrant support resources.

Through José’s story, Mora underscores the risks, sacrifices, and emotional weight that migrants bear when they leave home to begin life anew in the United States. Many have to make that tough decision because their countries of birth offer few choices to live safely and comfortably. El Salvador is in many ways a prime example. Beyond the Salvadoran Civil War that Mora mentions—a war that largely failed to resolve the socioeconomic inequalities that sparked it in the first place—El Salvador has a long history of economic setbacks. Its indigo industry, once an important source of export revenue, went into decline in the late 19th century as the use of industrial dyes became more common. El Salvador’s coffee industry, once a pillar of the country’s economy, has seen a similar decline in recent decades as the global coffee market has shifted toward cheaper beans produced in other parts of Latin America, as well as parts of Southeast Asia. Throughout El Salvador’s history, a regular driver of economic instability has been its vulnerability to natural disasters, including earthquakes, volcanic activity, and extreme weather—the latter made more frequent and more severe by climate change.

Where economies struggle, gangs and cartels often flourish, able to take advantage of weak governments and economically depressed communities that lack the resources to resist organized crime. As a result, the threat of poverty is accompanied by the threat of criminal violence. When a country suffers that outcome, the long-term risks of staying can outweigh the short-term risks of migrating for many of that country’s people.

The narrative in Illegal Cargo is taut throughout the book, so the root causes of migration summarized in the above two paragraphs get little in the way of direct mention. That part of the story is largely relegated to allusion—or depends on readers’ prior knowledge of real-world migration. That limitation notwithstanding, Illegal Cargo is a moving contribution to the ongoing dialogue about migration. It dramatizes the human stories that often get lost in policy papers, research studies, and political debates. Mora fosters understanding with a graphic novel that is thoughtfully researched, expertly written, and vividly illustrated.

Matt Peters is a program manager at Health Sciences Design, an interdisciplinary health innovation program at the University of Arizona Mel & Enid Zuckerman College of Public Health. He is also a longtime comic book reader and collector who can be found from time to time at his local comic book shops. Views expressed are his own.