Luis Rubio
In The Odyssey, Ulysses must steer his ship between two mortal dangers: Scylla, the six-headed monster, and Charybdis, the devouring whirlpool. Either path carries risk; hesitation guarantees disaster. President Trump has placed Mexico’s President Claudia Sheinbaum in a similarly existential bind.
Washington’s decision-making logic has changed—abruptly and profoundly. The recently released U.S. National Security Strategy signals a sharp pivot: Latin America now takes precedence over counterterrorism or even China. That shift was laid bare with the detention of Nicolás Maduro. While the operation itself was unsurprising after months of U.S. naval pressure off Venezuela’s coast, the justification was. Gone were the familiar invocations of democracy and human rights. Instead, Trump and his lieutenants spoke plainly of oil and power. The message was unmistakable—and Mexico cannot afford to miss it.
Fifteen years ago, I asked General Brent Scowcroft, former U.S. national security adviser, why Washington had embraced what became NAFTA. His answer was crystalline: “A prosperous and successful Mexico is in the best interest of the United States.” For decades, Mexico had feared its northern neighbor; the U.S., by contrast, saw Mexico’s success as the surest guarantee of stability along its most important border. Economic integration made strategic sense in the post–Cold War world. That consensus is now gone.
Today, Washington increasingly views Mexico not as a partner but as a liability. Not because Mexico modernized too quickly, but because it never completed its transformation. The country fractured into two Mexicos—one dynamic and globally integrated, the other violent and lawless—while successive governments failed to build basic state capacity: courts, police forces, public administration, and infrastructure. The cumulative result is the disorder Mexico now lives with, and that the current government has inherited.
Compounding this reality is a profound shift in U.S. attitudes. Policies once framed as enlightened investments in Mexico’s development are now dismissed as naïve or reckless concessions. Since Mexico’s democratization and market opening—now derided by the ruling party—Mexico was treated as an ally. Today, it is increasingly seen as a source of risk: an exporter of problems, a conduit of crime, a symbol of unchecked chaos.
This leaves President Sheinbaum facing a stark choice. One option is to engage the United States in substantive negotiations on security and development. The other is to resist, rhetorically and politically, while betting that Washington will refrain from the unilateral actions it has already hinted at.
Negotiating with President Trump is notoriously difficult, as the tortured trade talks have shown. But allowing Washington to act alone on issues central to Mexico’s future would be worse—and potentially irresponsible. The Trump administration leaves little room for passive disagreement. A strategy centered on cooperation, especially on security—an area where Mexican federal and state institutions are plainly overstretched—offers a far better chance of shaping outcomes. Cooperation on U.S. priorities would also create leverage to advance Mexico’s own.
The dilemma, then, is not whether Mexico will negotiate, but whether it will do so intelligently and proactively. A posture of resistance solves none of Mexico’s internal failures, deepens tensions within the governing coalition, and leaves the country perilously exposed to growth, investment, and jobs. Like Ulysses, Mexico must choose its course. And the correct choice should be obvious.
@lrubiof
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