As the body count climbs in Mexico's cartel war, the Catholic Church
is facing some serious allegations. Certain parishes are accused of
relying on so-called blood money, donations from drug lords.
One small chapel is at the center of the controversy.
In Hidalgo, Mexico, in the tiny community of Tezontle, next to the
old stone chapel, stands a new building with an enormous silver cross.
One woman who attends mass there says it's beautiful. When asked who paid for the building, she says she doesn't know.
A plaque on a wall outside of the structure clearly identifies the
benefactor: Heriberto Lazcano Lazcano, a top leader of the Zetas, one
of Mexico's most feared cartels.
He's a native son who is a wanted man
on both sides of the border.
But people in Tezontle say they don't know anything about the generous donor.
So is the neighborhood in denial? Critics say the problem extends to
the Catholic Church hierarchy when it comes to narco limosnas, or drug
money donations.
In 2008, a spokesman for the Archdiocese in Mexico says the church
warns parishes not to accept dirty money, even if it's to pay for good
deeds. Three years later, the policy is still not widely enforced.
And the problem dates back decades.
Among the allegations: some
priests accept big fees to perform baptisms, weddings and other
ceremonies for drug lords.
Several media organizations in Mexico
reported a priest married drug lord Chapo Guzman in a mountain hideaway.
There have also been historic ties between the Catholic Church and
the crime families in other countries, including the U.S. and Italy.
As the death toll from the drug war in Mexico mounts, the Catholic
Church faces increasing pressure to crackdown on parishes that accept
blood money.
One woman we spoke with outside a church in Mexico City says it's
like having one foot in the darkness and the other in the light.
As the drug rages on here in Mexico, the Catholic Church finds itself
caught in the middle.
While certain priests are accused of silently
accepting donations from drug lords, other priests who speak out against
violent drug cartels face death threats.
One woman we spoke with says she does not want to judge, since some
priests who take cartel cash may do so because of death threats.
As a
Catholic, she's ashamed it happens: drug violence has touched her god
daughter's life.
A few weeks ago, the little girl witnessed her
mother's murder.
One man who just attended mass in Mexico City cautioned drug money donations carry a price paid in blood.
Back in Tezontle, outside the chapel with the dedication from the
leader of one of Mexico's most brutal cartels, locals won't or cannot
acknowledge their infamous benefactor.
They simply say the chapel
belongs to the people.