World
Mexicans with HIV/AIDS struggle with treatment access
Government in 2019 created new health care entity
Roberto Navarro has been a dancer since he was 17. Jazz became his passion and he fell in love with classical dancing after he took many classes. And he began to teach four years later.
“I’m so happy when I teach dancing to my girls because they bring me so much joy, I feel like I help my girls to become better women, without noticing I’m some kind of a therapist,” Navarro told the Washington Blade.
He discovered the discipline of dancing in heels in 2014, which made him connect and explore more with his sexuality. He did, however, suffer a lot of bullying because of it.
Navarro — a 33-year-old gay man who is originally from Sahuayo de Morelos in Michoacán state — currently owns a dance salon. Navarro said he started to become an entrepreneur, but it hasn’t been easy because of the pandemic.
He was diagnosed with HIV in 2016. Navarro suffered from depression for several months after he learned his status.
“I woke up very overwhelmed in the morning thinking that I had to go to the hospital to make a long line of patients; to have blood drawn for fast screening tests,” he said. “We arrived at 7 in the morning and left until 1 in the afternoon.”
Navarro has been receiving treatment for almost five years, and he is still dancing.
“Subsequently, I went to my consultations every three or six months depending on my results,” he stated. “By the third month I was undetectable.”
Navarro started with Atripla, an antiretroviral drug he received through Mexico’s Seguro Popular, and he was undetectable a month later.
A shortage of Atripla forced a change to Biktarby after President Andrés Manuel López Obrador in 2019 scrapped Seguro Popular and created the Health Institute for Wellbeing (INSABI). The pharmaceutical company Gilead has said there are many counterfeit versions of the drug on the market.
Seguro Popular in 2018 had almost 52 million beneficiaries. The National Council for the Evaluation of Social Development Policy (CONEVAL) said INSABI at the end of 2020 had more than 34 million beneficiaries.
Antiretroviral drugs have been available in Mexico since 2003, although the Mexican health system is divided into various subsystems based on where one works.
- Institute of Social Security and Services for State Workers (ISSSTE)
- Mexican Institute of Social Security (IMS)
- INSABI (Health Institute for Wellbeing) that was previously known as the Seguro Popular
They vary in the time it takes to receive medication and the time for CD4 viral load tests. The availability of appointments with infectious disease specialists varies in each of the three public health systems.
People with INSABI will take longer to get tests and have access to doctors. It must also be recognized that everyone, in theory, has the possibility of accessing medicines, but it also depends on the states in which they live.
From Seguro Popular to INSABI
The number of people without access to healthcare in Mexico rose from 20 million to almost 36 million between 2018-2020. INSABI, more than a year after its creation, still does not completely cover the same amount as its predecessor.
INSABI is an independent agency through the Ministry of Health that aims to “provide and ensure the free provision of health services, medicines and other inputs associated with people without social security.” The General Health Law says it was to replace Seguro Popular, which was in place from 2004-2019.
“The situation for treatment right now, it’s quite complex, particularly because there have been many changes in the health department of Mexico, and this has to do with the fact that in 2003 when the Seguro Popular was established; there was an increase to comprehensive care for people living with HIV and resources for prevention strategies which are mainly handled through civil society organizations that obtained money from the government.” stated Ricardo Baruch, who has worked at the International Family Planning Federation for almost 15 years.
López,, who took office in 2018, sought to eliminate Seguro Popular, which was the mechanism by which access to antiretroviral drugs were given to most people living with HIV in the states with greater vulnerability. This change was done in theory to expand access for everyone, but the opposite happened.
There is less access due to the modification of purchasing mechanisms and a huge shortage throughout the country. Baruch says this situation has caused a treatment crisis across Mexico.
“The truth is that the Seguro Popular helped me a lot to have my treatments on time, what I do not like is that there is not enough staff to attend all the patients that we are waiting for our consultations,” said Erick Vasquez, a person who learned in February he is living with HIV.
Vasquez, 34, is an artist who works in Guadalajara and Playa del Carmen.
Vasquez did not have health insurance like other people through IMS. He obtained access to Seguro Popular through an organization that supports people with HIV, but he has to wait until October for his first appointment.
Vasquez, who has a very low viral load, in March began a job through which he obtained IMS. He had access to his treatments through it.
He received three months worth of Biktarvy at the end of June; one prescription for each month. He said the drug is not difficult to obtain.
“I have not had any problem with the medication, it is not difficult to get it when you are on the insurance, but there is still a long time left until October,” said Vasquez.
The cost of the antiretroviral treatment in Mexico is approximately $650 per month, and one bottle has only 30 pills.
“I have not had side effects, I have not had nausea, I don’t vomit, I take a pill daily, it is one every 24 hours,” Vasquez said. “I feel very well and I hope very soon to be undetectable.”
Infrastructure over health
Prevention resources were eliminated, and health resources today are used to finance the Felipe Ángeles International Airport at the Santa Lucía military base in Zumpango in Mexico state, a new refinery, the Mayan train and other major infrastructure projects. And this causes many people who want to access treatment not to receive them. It takes much
The cost of the work, including the land connected with the Mexico City International Airport and various military facilities, is set at 82,136,100,000 Mexican pesos and there are provisions to serve 19.5 million passengers the first year of operations, according to a report from the Secretariat of National Defense (SEDENA).
There are, on the other hand, far fewer HIV tests and this shortage has led to a much higher arrival of late-stage HIV cases and even AIDS in hospitals. This trend is particularly serious among transgender women and men who have sex with men.
“Here in Mexico we concentrate the HIV pandemic, and that we are at a time when this issue of shortages has not stabilized, that there is already more clarity in purchases, but it is well known that all these changes in health systems continue for a year over the years they cause the situation to be increasingly fragile and in the matter of migrants that previously there was certainty so that they could access medicines through the Seguro Popular, now there is a legal limbo for which in some states it depends: on the states, the clinic or social worker; whether or not they give you medications,” said Baruch.
“If you are not a resident or a national here in Mexico, this is a matter won for people in transit seeking political asylum or who had stayed in Mexico,” he added.
Migrants lack access to HIV treatment
Mexico is located between the three regions with the world’s highest rates of HIV: the Caribbean, Central America, and the U.S. This has been used as a foundation for a culture of hatred against migrants, according to Siobhan McManus, a biologist, philosopher, and researcher at the Center for Interdisciplinary Research in Sciences and Humanities of the National Autonomous University of Mexico.
The lack of opportunities, violence and climate change that forces people whose livelihoods depend on agriculture to abandon their homes prompts migration from Central America.
Most migrants — LGBTQ or otherwise — experience violence once they arrive in Mexico.
Chiapas and other states have created an extensive network of clinics known by the Spanish acronym CAPASITS (Centro Ambulatorio para la Prevención y Atención en SIDA e Infecciones de Transmisión Sexual) that are specific HIV and STD units in major towns. They are often within close proximity to most people’s homes.
Sonora and Chihuahua states, which border the U.S., often have such clinics in only one or two cities. This lack of access means people will have to travel up to six hours to access these treatments.
People who have already been receiving treatment for a long time were previously given up to three months of treatment. They now must travel every month to receive their medications because of the shortages.
PrEP available in Mexico
The shortage of medical drugs for people who already live with HIV is a current issue for the Mexican government, but they have made free PrEP available for those who want to prevent themselves from the virus.
Ivan Plascencia, a 24-years old, who lives in Guadalajara, the capital of Jalisco state , has been using PrEP for several years since he became sexually active and he never had any complaints about the medication. Plascencia instead recommends his close friends to take advantage of this prevention drug that is available in one of the CAPASITS where he lives.
Post-pandemic screening tests
There are an estimated 260,000 people in Mexico who are living with HIV. Upwards of 80 percent of them knew their status before the COVID-19 pandemic.
The number of new cases that were detected in 2020 were 60 percent less than the previous year, but this figure does not mean HIV rates have decreased.
In Jalisco, which is one of Mexico’s most populous states with upwards of 8 million people, there was a 40 percent increase in positive cases in 2020 compared to 2019. This increase has put a strain on service providers.
Chile
Chilean lawmakers back report that calls for suspension of program for trans children
Country’s first transgender congresswoman condemned May 15 vote
The Chilean Chamber of Deputies on May 15 approved a report that recommends the immediate suspension of a program that provides psychosocial support to transgender and gender non-conforming children and adolescents and their parents.
The 56-31 vote in favor of the Investigation Commission No. 57’s recommendations for the Gender Identity Support Program sparked outrage among activists in Chile and around the world. Six lawmakers abstained.
The report proposes the Health Ministry issue a resolution against puberty blockers, cross-hormonalization, and other hormonal treatments for minors, regardless of whether they have been diagnosed with gender dysphoria. The report also suggests Chilean educational institutions should not respect trans students’ chosen names.
The report, among other recommendations, calls for a review of the background of all minors who are currently receiving hormone treatments. The report also calls for the reformulation of hormone therapy guidelines and sending this background information to the comptroller general.
Report ‘sets an ominous precedent’
Frente Amplio Congresswoman Emilia Schneider, the first trans woman elected to the Chilean Congress and a member of the commission, sharply criticized her colleagues who voted for the report.
“Today in the Chamber of Deputies the report of hatred against trans people was approved; a report that seeks to roll back programs so relevant for children, for youth, such as the Gender Identity Support Program; a program that, in addition, comes from the government of (the late-President) Sebastián Piñera,” Schneider told the Washington Blade. ”This is unacceptable because the right-wing yields to the pressures of the ultra-right and leaves the trans community in a very complex position.”
Schneider noted “this report is not binding; that is, its recommendations do not necessarily have to be taken into account, but it sets an ominous precedent.”
“We are going backwards on such basic issues as the recognition of the social name of trans students in educational establishments,” she said.
Ignacia Oyarzún, president of Organizing Trans Diversities, a Chilean trans rights group, echoed Schneider’s criticisms. commented to the Blade.
“We regret today’s shameful action in the Chamber of Deputies, where the CEI-57 report issued by the Republican Party was approved in a context of lies, misinformation and misrepresentation of reality,” Oyarzún told the Blade. “This only promotes the regression of public policies and conquered rights that have managed to save the lives of thousands of children in the last time.”
Oyarzún added the “slogan ‘children first’ proves to be an empty phrase without content used by those who today promote measures that push to suicide a significant number of children for the fact of being trans.”
The Movement for Homosexual Integration and Liberation, a Chilean LGBTQ rights group known by the acronym Movilh also condemned the approval of the report, calling it “transphobic” and accusing the commission of omitting the opinions of organizations and families that support the current policies.
Movilh notes lawmakers approved both the Gender Identity Law and Circular 812, which promotes respect for trans students’ rights, within the framework of an agreement with the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights.
“The text of the approved report is scandalous, because it seeks to take away the access to health to trans minors, including denying them the psychosocial accompaniment that also includes their respective families,” said María José Cumplido, executive director of Fundación Iguales, another Chilean LGBTQ advocacy group. “Likewise, it attempts against school inclusion, since it intends to eliminate something as essential as the use of the social name in educational spaces. In short, it takes away rights and freedoms to trans people, especially to minors.”
Cumplido, like Schneider, pointed out that “although its content is not binding, we will be alert to the political and legislative consequences that it may produce and we will continue working to avoid setbacks with respect to the rights of trans people.”
The report’s approval reflects a global trend that has seen neighboring Argentina, the U.S., and other countries reserve policies for trans and nonbinary young people. The Peruvian Health Ministry recently classified gender identity as a mental illness, and lawmakers have passed a law that prevents trans people from using public restrooms based on their identity.
photo by Michael K. Lavers)
Experts and human rights activists warn the suspension of Chile’s Gender Identity Support Program and other programs could adversely impact the mental health of trans and nonbinary children who already face high levels of discrimination and are at heightened risk to die by suicide.
“We will defend the Gender Identity Support Program and the right to exist of trans children and youth across the country,” said Schneider. “I want to reassure the trans families of our country that we will not rest until our rights are respected and that we can continue advancing because there is still much to be conquered.”
Iran
Underground queer network challenges Iranian regime
Homosexuality remains punishable by death in country
While global powers negotiate with Iran’s regime under Ayatollah Ali Khamenei to curb its advancing nuclear program, the oppressed LGBTQ community is building and operating a secret underground network to resist state-coerced sex reassignment surgeries.
These surgeries, mandated for gay and lesbian people as a state-sanctioned alternative to execution for homosexuality, are part of Iran’s penal code that criminalizes consensual same-sex sexual relations. The network provides safe houses, forged identification documents, and covert communication channels to protect members from government raids and imprisonment.
Precise data on LGBTQ people prosecuted in Iran for resisting state-coerced sex reassignment surgeries over the past decade remains elusive, as the regime’s opaque judicial system obscures such cases under vague charges like “corruption on earth” or “sodomy.” NGOs, including 6Rang, report that thousands of gay and lesbian Iranians face pressure to undergo surgeries to avoid execution for same-sex conduct, with resistance often leading to arrests or harassment for violating gender norms.
Zahra Seddiqi Hamedani and Elham Choubdar, two prominent activists, in 2022 were sentenced to death for their social media advocacy, charged with “corruption” and “human trafficking,” though their convictions were overturned in 2023. Similarly, Rezvaneh Mohammadi in 2019 received a five-year sentence for promoting “homosexual relations,” a charge hinting at resistance to the regime’s heteronormative mandates.
Arsham Parsi in 2003 escalated his clandestine fight for Iran’s LGBTQ community by launching Voice Celebration, a secret Yahoo chat group where 50 queer Iranians, using aliases, exchanged coded messages to evade the regime’s surveillance. Operating like operatives in a shadow network, participants shared text messages about human rights and survival tactics, knowing a single breach could lead to torture or execution. Parsi, then 23, orchestrated the group’s encrypted communications, building a virtual lifeline that connected isolated individuals across the country until his cover was nearly blown, forcing a desperate escape in early 2005.
Parsi in an exchange with the Washington Blade revealed a defiant undercurrent in Iran, a movement too elusive to be called traditional resistance yet pulsing with covert rebellion against the regime.
The state’s relentless push to force gay men into coerced surgeries — marketed as a “solution” to their sexuality — seeks to erase their identities through enforced conformity. Parsi, steering the International Railroad for Queer Refugees, disclosed how queer Iranians fight back with clandestine measures: Underground education to counter state propaganda, discreet psychological support to fortify resilience, and encrypted networks to forge secret alliances. These efforts, veiled to evade regime detection, dismantle the state’s narrative with every hidden signal and guarded connection.
“We are working to create a true grassroots resistance by empowering people to understand their identity, seek safe alternatives, and reclaim their agency despite the oppressive context,” said Parsi. “The Iranian regime’s policies are built on denial of sexual orientation and a forced alignment with a binary gender model.”
“Rather than recognizing gay, lesbian, or bisexual individuals, the system pressures them — particularly gay men — to undergo irreversible surgeries in order to be legally tolerated,” he added. “This systemic violence creates deep psychological harm and compels many to resist, even quietly, to protect their truth. The lack of legal recognition and the threat of arrest, harassment, or blackmail fuels the underground defiance we see today. It’s not only resistance for survival — it’s a rejection of state-imposed identity suppression.”
IRQR, guided by Parsi, for nearly two decades has operated as a lifeline, orchestrating daring escapes and running a covert network for Iran’s hunted queer community.
Parsi said his work relies on secret, encrypted channels — meticulously managed to avoid detection — to funnel at-risk individuals to safety, smuggle life-saving information, secure hidden safe houses, and deliver emotional support. Every operation faces threats not only from the regime’s security forces but also from Basij militia operatives who masquerade as queer individuals to infiltrate networks, heightening the peril for those marked by their identities.
Black-clad Basij militia members respond at the first signs of defiance; tearing through crowds on motorcycles with batons and guns at the ready, poised to crush any challenge to Iran’s regime. These paramilitary volunteers, bound by fierce loyalty to the Islamic Republic, serve as the state’s enforcers, their plainclothes operatives slipping into dissident networks to root out the defiant.
The Basij fill queer Iranians with dread; their so-called morality patrols and digital traps stalking those who dare to exist outside the regime’s rigid norms.
“Their goal is not only to gather intelligence but to undermine, divide, and cancel the work of activists and organizations like ours,” said Parsi. “This divide-and-conquer strategy is designed to break solidarity and generate mistrust.”
“We have seen numerous cases where trusted circles were compromised by these informants, and it has made our work — and survival — even more complex,” he further noted. “Despite this, we persist. Through our underground connections, we have helped thousands of queer Iranians seek safety, community, and ultimately, freedom.”
Parsi told the Blade that international support — through funding, advocacy, policy pressure, or amplifying his stories — can significantly strengthen his work to protect Iran’s persecuted queer community. He emphasized IRQR operates with limited resources, making global solidarity essential to improve outreach, enhance safety measures, and respond swiftly to those in need. Parsi underscored such support brings visibility to the crisis in Iran, reminding those at risk they are not forgotten while exerting pressure on a regime that thrives on silence and fear.
One of the things that Parsi’s underground network offers is online workshops that educate queer Iranians about how they can remain beyond the regime’s reach.
He said these sessions, designed for safety and accessibility, encompass peer support, mental health education, digital security training, and guidance on refugee pathways. Parsi explained the workshops give vulnerable Iranians the tools to navigate persecution, defy state surveillance, and pursue escape, exposing the resilience of a community under relentless scrutiny.
“Due to the high risk of persecution in Iran, traditional protests are not feasible,” said Parsi. “Instead, acts of resistance take quieter forms — like anonymous storytelling which are just as powerful in building awareness and connection within the community. While discreet, these activities help create a sense of solidarity and empowerment among queer Iranians.”
Parsi, undeterred by Iran’s unyielding regime, asserted with measured confidence that while underground acts of defiance — living authentically, supporting one another, resisting forced medicalisation — may not shift policy overnight, they are already improving lives. He stressed these quiet rebellions that queer Iranians stage challenge the regime’s narrative of shame and invisibility, forging a resilient foundation for future change. Each act, Parsi emphasized, dismantles the regime’s grip, offering hope to those navigating a landscape of relentless oppression.
“At IRQR, we view each life saved, each network built, and each truth spoken as a small but powerful act of resistance,” said Parsi. “These are the seeds of future liberation. Over time, as they multiply and gain visibility — locally and internationally — they will help reshape the landscape for queer Iranians.”
ILGA Asia Executive Director Henry Koh said queer Iranians’ underground resistance is a powerful assertion of bodily autonomy and self-determination. He described it as a deeply courageous act in a regime where visibility invites immense personal risk, from arrest to execution.
When asked by the Blade if the Iranian regime’s punitive measures against openly queer people fuel underground resistance, Koh responded unequivocally.
“Absolutely,” he said. “The climate of criminalization and repression leaves little safe space for queer people to live openly. This forces many into secrecy or underground networks as a means of survival, resistance, and mutual support. Such conditions are not only unjust but also profoundly harmful to the well-being of LGBTIQ+ individuals.”
“It is important to distinguish between affirming gender-affirming care and any form of coercive medical intervention,” he added. “When states or authorities mandate medical procedures as a condition for recognition or safety, it constitutes a grave violation of human rights. Gender identity is deeply personal, and no institution should override an individual’s self-defined identity.”
El Salvador
El Salvador conmemora el 17M bajo un clima de miedo y retroceso en derechos LGBTQ
Activistas denunciaron al gobierno de Nayib Bukele
El 17 de mayo se conmemora a nivel mundial el Día Internacional contra la Homofobia, Transfobia y Bifobia, recordando la eliminación de la homosexualidad como enfermedad mental por parte de la Organización Mundial de la Salud en 1990. Sin embargo, esta fecha también se ha convertido en un espacio de denuncia ante la violencia estructural e institucional que sigue afectando a la población LGBTQ en muchos países, incluido El Salvador.
Este año, la marcha conmemorativa del 17 de mayo en San Salvador fue más reducida que en ocasiones anteriores. Decenas de personas se reunieron para alzar su voz a pesar del temor creciente entre quienes integran la diversidad sexual y de género.
Las amenazas no son nuevas, pero sí más frecuentes en el contexto actual.
Activistas, colectivas y organizaciones de derechos humanos denuncian que el gobierno de Nayib Bukele ha profundizado un discurso y una práctica anti-derechos. Para muchas de estas personas, la visibilidad se ha vuelto sinónimo de riesgo.
Desde la Asociación ASPIDH, Valeria Mejía, coordinadora de monitoreo y evaluación, expresó que “a inicios de 2025, el presidente Nayib Bukele y su gobierno oficializaron una postura anti-derechos, profundizando las amenazas estructurales contra los derechos humanos en El Salvador”. Alegan que esto ha generado retrocesos concretos para la comunidad LGBTQ.
Mónica Hernández, directora ejecutiva de ASPIDH, ha sido enfática en sus declaraciones.
“Se está silenciando a las organizaciones defensoras de derechos humanos a través de amenazas o restricciones legales”, afirmó. Y exigió al gobierno restituir los mecanismos que protegían a la población diversa.
Una de las luchas históricas aún sin respuesta es la aprobación de una ley de identidad de género. Actualmente, las personas trans no pueden modificar su nombre y género en sus documentos legales, lo que las expone a tratos humillantes en hospitales, centros educativos, juzgados y otras instituciones públicas.
La falta de una legislación que apoye a las personas trans sobre su identidad de género sigue siendo una afectación, por lo que sufren discriminación institucionalizada, en hospitales, centros educativos, juzgados, entre otros, donde suelen enfrentar trato discriminatorio o negación de servicios por no coincidir su identidad de género con sus documentos legales, mencionó una vocera de la Mesa por Una Ley de Identidad.
En la marcha de este año, las calles no se llenaron como en otras ocasiones. El miedo a la criminalización fue evidente.
“Los agentes del CAM me dijeron que con este régimen me podían acusar de ser pandillera solo por ser trans y andar tatuada”, declaró una participante, temblorosa, al Washington Blade.
A pesar del temor, hubo presencia. Algunas organizaciones de base y colectivos de clase trabajadora mostraron su solidaridad. Entre ellas, el Movimiento por la Defensa de los Derechos Humanos de la Clase Trabajadora, quienes acompañan el caso de Carolina Escobar, una mujer trans despedida injustamente del ISDEMU.
Escobar también estuvo en la marcha.
“Hay que permanecer unidas las minorías, yo estoy acá a pesar de que he sufrido persecución por parte de la Policía Nacional Civil, por dar seguimiento a los casos de despidos injustificados del ISDEMU”, comentó.
La analista política y activista Bessy Ríos de la organización De La Mano Contigo no se mostró optimista con el panorama.
“Hay que prepararse para el peor de los escenarios y crear redes de apoyo entre nosotros”, recalcó durante la jornada conmemorativa.
La colectiva feminista también acompañó la marcha y compartió con otros colectivos mensajes de unidad.
“En tiempos difíciles, es cuando debemos unirnos más”, dijo una joven activista con una pañoleta verde en su rostro.
La represión no solo se percibe en las calles. Desde hace meses, muchas organizaciones LGBTQ han denunciado bloqueos al financiamiento internacional que sostenía proyectos de apoyo, atención psicológica y asesoría legal. Sin esos fondos, la lucha se vuelve más cuesta arriba.
Además, la anunciada Ley de Agentes Extranjeros —todavía en discusión— amenaza con imponer un impuesto del 30 por ciento a las donaciones provenientes del extranjero. Esto pondría en jaque a decenas de ONG que trabajan directamente con poblaciones vulnerables, incluida la diversidad sexual.
La consigna en esta fecha ha sido clara: la lucha no se detiene. Incluso con menos recursos y bajo amenazas, quienes se organizaron para conmemorar el 17 de mayo lo hicieron con la firme convicción de que los derechos humanos no se negocian.
Desde las pancartas hasta las intervenciones públicas, el mensaje fue contundente: el Estado salvadoreño debe cesar toda forma de discriminación hacia las personas LGBTQ y garantizar políticas inclusivas que aseguren su acceso a la salud, la educación, la justicia y el empleo.
En cada paso, se entretejía el recuerdo de quienes ya no están, y el deseo ferviente de un futuro distinto.
“Marchamos por quienes no pudieron llegar hoy, por quienes tienen miedo, por quienes ya no están. Seguiremos exigiendo respeto y dignidad”, expresó una activista.
Frank Kameny’s legacy lives on
Wes Moore signs HIV decriminalization bill
Medical groups file lawsuit over Trump deletion of health information
Marjorie Taylor Greene’s bill to criminalize gender affirming care advances
Delaware considers enshrining same-sex marriage into state Constitution
Pete Buttigieg, eyeing a presidential run, holds Iowa town hall
Calendar: May 16-22
Documentary about Blade reporter to premiere this month
Mike Millan prepares to co-host Helen Hayes Awards
