Antonio Navalón
Rafael Caro Quintero is much more than a drug trafficker. He is part of the history of organized crime and power in Mexico. Furthermore, his capture and extradition do not only represent the fall of a drug lord but the resolution of a historical debt: justice for the murder of DEA agent Enrique “Kiki” Camarena. But he is much more than that. He is a score left unsettled for 40 years and embodies a more prominent, darker, and more profound story: the intersection between drug trafficking, politics, and power in Mexico.
Caro Quintero was not just any criminal. He was the second in command to the true architect of modern drug trafficking who transcended rudimentary violence and turned it into a solid industry, Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo. Gallardo, known as the “Jefe de Jefes” (Boss of Bosses) was not content with just trafficking drugs; he structured a cartel with an entrepreneurial vocation, with distribution networks that functioned like a transnational corporation. Under his leadership, the Guadalajara Cartel went from being a group of scattered traffickers to an emporium with mass production, efficient distribution, and contacts at all levels of power and the public sphere. His model not only laid the foundations for the cartels that would dominate the following decades but also blurred the boundaries between crime and the State.
The United States has never forgotten Kiki Camarena. For them, his murder was a direct challenge to their power, an affront that made Caro Quintero public enemy number one. Since then, Washington has constructed a narrative in which the Mexican government has been complicit or, at the very least, has looked the other way. This is a story of betrayals that crossed interests and political expediencies, not just about a drug lord. Over the years, suspicions have fallen on everyone from relatives of former president Luis Echeverría to senior officials such as Manuel Bartlett, a survivor of Mexican politics whose role in this plot remains shrouded in mystery. The administration of Andrés Manuel López Obrador visited Badiraguato on several occasions and opened channels of dialogue in unexpected spaces. It was not just the policy of “hugs, not bullets”; it was creating a new type of relationship with certain actors in organized crime disguised under the discourse of pacification. Energy was one of the key points of this understanding. How far did that connection go? It is a question whose answer will be revealed over time.
But time has run out. US pressure on Mexico has reached a critical point. In a desperate attempt to avoid imposing 25% tariffs on Mexican exports, the Mexican Security Cabinet went to Washington, D.C., on February 27. Led by Omar García HarfuchSecretary of Security, Foreign Minister Juan Ramón de la Fuente, and Attorney General Alejandro Gertz Manero, they met with US Secretary of State Marco Rubio to strengthen security cooperation. Two urgent issues were on the table: fentanyl trafficking and arms smuggling. This is the new priority for Claudia Sheinbaum’s government and Donald Trump’s administration.
The operation that involved the extradition of the 29 drug lords, carried out with 3,512 security personnel and eight aircraft, transferred the drug lords from eight maximum security prisons to courts in eight US cities, including New York, Houston, and Washington.
It was a clear message that the deal was being kept. However, for Trump, this is not enough. His warning was forceful: if the results are not “convincing,” tariffs will come into force on March 4. Mexico is caught between a sword and a wall, forced to demonstrate effectiveness in the fight against crime while protecting its economy.
The problem is that these decisions are not just diplomatic gestures but strategic moves that generate unpredictable reactions. The cartels do not forget, especially when they feel an implicit pact has been betrayed.
What happens next is uncertain. Officially, the era of “hugs” is over. There is no more room for ambiguous strategies or pacifying speeches. The United States wants results, and Mexico is cornered.
Last Friday, the day after the meeting, the Mexican government explained that it acted in response to a formal written request from the US government, which included the names and surnames of the capos wanted. To proceed with the extraordinary rendition, the Attorney General’s Office applied Article 5 of the National Security Law and the provisions of the Palermo Convention against organized crime, ensuring that the suspensions of Amparo that some detainees had in force were not violated.
The repercussions will not be only external. Internally, the balance of power has changed. Governors, mayors, and officials who once operated under the certainty that their relationship with crime was a tacit agreement are now walking a tightrope. The line between politics and drug trafficking has always been blurred, but now, the line separating protection from persecution has disappeared.
The problem is no longer just one of stopping the trafficking of fentanyl or containing the violence. The real challenge is to purge the country’s political structure without causing the system to collapse. And in Mexico, where drug trafficking has not only been a business but a key cog in the political wheel, that task is practically impossible.
This move may temporarily ease the pressure from the United States, but it has opened up a new battlefront within the country. Retaliation will not be long in coming. The cartels are not just seeking power; they are exercising it. And now, those who thought they could play on both sides will have to pay the price.
Starting today, Mexican politics has become even more unstable. No one is safe. What happened to General Salvador Cienfuegos, who was arrested on a family visit to Disneyland, can happen to any senior official. Persecution has begun. Names will be removed from visa lists, fortunes will be investigated, and connections previously protected by silence will be unearthed.
The balance of power has changed. In the new context, it is clear that hugs are a thing of the past and that bullets will dictate the course of events. The war… has only just begun.
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