During the 1990s, Mexico’s government, opposition parties, and civil society changed the country’s political system. The one-party state that had prevailed for more than 70 years was no longer enough to accommodate the demands of an increasingly complex society, and a larger, more educated middle class started demanding political pluralism.
The then-ruling Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI) made legal reforms to allow Mexico’s political system to open and democratize, permitting more political representation in local governments and Congress. It also created autonomous institutions such as the Federal Electoral Institute to transfer political decision-making powers to agencies that followed technical guidelines. In 2000, an opposition presidential candidate won Mexico’s presidency for the first time since the Mexican Revolution.
This brief period of liberal, constitutional democracy was halted in 2018 by Andrés Manuel López Obrador’s presidential election victory. It was fully overthrown in June’s general election, when a coalition led by López Obrador’s Morena party gained the presidency for the second time, in addition to earning majorities in Mexico’s legislature. Morena swiftly proceeded to disfigure Mexico’s judiciary, and in the coming weeks, the remaining autonomous government agencies—including the Federal Economic Competition Commission, Federal Telecommunications Institute, and the national transparency institute—are likely to become compliant and subservient branches of the party as well.
From the start of his administration, López Obrador has pursued an agenda of institutional destruction. He has couched his de-institutional intentions in claims about the shortcomings of neoliberalism, both real and made up, claiming that he is simply remedying Mexico’s broken political system. Contrary to popular belief, however, López Obrador has not centralized power in the presidency—an institutional podium—but in himself and his chosen successors, including the incoming president, and his son, who is now seeking the Morena party leadership.
In June, López Obrador’s protégé, Claudia Sheinbaum, won the presidency by a landslide, securing more than 60 percent of votes. She will take office on Oct. 1, when López Obrador—who was term-limited from seeking reelection—will formally step down. But the new Congress, where the Morena-led alliance earned a majority, was inaugurated on Sept. 1, leaving him one final month to advance his legislative agenda before Sheinbaum takes over.
The election made it clear that many Mexicans are comfortable with a political system that concentrates power on one person at the expense of pluralism and dialogue. A 2023 study by the Pew Research Center found that 50 percent of Mexicans support being ruled by a “strong leader without judicial or legislative checks.” Yet as president, Sheinbaum won’t continue advancing the institutional collapse initiated by her political mentor. Instead, she will inherit a consummation.
The institutional demolition that began with López Obrador’s inauguration in 2018 has come to its natural outcome. The 18 constitutional reforms he proposed are not separate agenda items, but one single project with one single objective: to subvert Mexico’s political system.
In practice, there is no individual judicial, electoral, or autonomous agency reform; there is only a broader, more ambitious blow to the few remaining free spheres of political autonomy and professionalism that could not be subjugated during López Obrador’s administration. The federal judiciary and remaining autonomous agencies were the last bulwarks standing in the way of López Obrador’s radical project of de-institutionalization. The outgoing president has been successful in eradicating the basic checks and balances of the Mexican republic.
Most notorious, perhaps, is López Obrador’s radical measure undoing the judiciary, which will allow for 7,000 judges to be directly elected by popular vote in a process where all candidacies will be influenced by Morena. The creation of a discipline tribunal—with broad faculties to sanction and remove judges who deviate from a partisan interpretation of the law—is another mechanism for political control.
Although the proposal was approved by the Senate on Sept. 11, it was not a democratically made decision. The majorities in Congress needed to amend the constitution were obtained through a fraudulent interpretation of the law determining the formulas for proportional representation. Captured electoral authorities violated a constitutional provision that prohibits overrepresentation above 8 percent, giving Morena’s coalition 75 percent of the seats in Congress when it only obtained 54 percent of the vote in June’s election.
The destruction of Mexico’s judiciary is particularly concerning because of the country’s high impunity levels. Only 94 percent of crimes in Mexico are reported, and less than 1 percent are punished, according to Impunidad Cero, a think tank. Courts are the only civilized alternative to the more violent practices of self-defense that already corrode much of the country. Not having a professional and independent judiciary will anchor violence as the only resort for managing social conflicts.
It is a mistake to compare this new political regime to Mexico’s former one-party state. Although the PRI controlled the outcome of the elections during most of the 20th century and curtailed political freedoms, it was a disciplined party that built dozens of institutions and professionalized civil bureaucracies, the exact opposite agenda of Morena’s objectives.
Mexico will still function without checks and balances; an unpleasant percentage of the world’s governments are undemocratic and yet somehow functional. But on the foreign-policy front, López Obrador’s new political system will impact how international actors engage with the country.
The frantic process of de-institutionalization means that the rules of dialogue and negotiation with Mexico will be more brittle and unpredictable. Businesses, investment, and foreign agreements will become more tenuous in a political system that is more personalized, corrupt, and opaque. In short: The rule of law will not be the rule in Mexico.
Take U.S.-Mexico relations. During Mexico’s liberal democratic period, the country attempted to navigate its intricate bilateral relationship with the United States by creating rules and institutions such as bilateral agreements, independent tribunals, and professional bureaucracies. The compartmentalization of topics in the bilateral relationship was an intelligent scheme for Mexico, the weaker partner of the two. But this political design presupposed the existence of institutions on both sides of the border.
Now, the United States will have to deal with a new phenomenon—a fragile and unprofessional neighbor that will likely try to hide its weakness and authoritarianism through sporadic gifts. These might be offered as occasional tributes—the detention of drug kingpins or tighter border controls—but they will never be more than momentary palliatives to hide the new chaos and rampant ungovernability of a country with weak and politicized institutions.
The relevant takeaway for Mexico’s partners around the world is that the Mexican government is in tatters. Sheinbaum has already deployed decoys to calm international markets and partners who are worried about Mexico’s institutional collapse. Some cabinet appointments have been presented as pragmatic and technical picks, such as Marcelo Ebrard as incoming economy minister. Yet it is a mistake to confuse these initial niceties with lasting cooperation and goodwill.
Most analysts are currently asking the wrong question: Can Sheinbaum be independent of López Obrador? The problem lies not in the answer but in what the question implies: an underlying weakness across Mexico’s whole political system, including a personalization of politics where personalities become more important than institutions.
Eventually, Morena will be a victim of its own success. The paradox of centralizing power is that it implies destroying the institutions that create order and governability. Sheinbaum, for her part, will soon find out she doesn’t have the leverage to carry out many of her policy plans. There is a fundamental contradiction at the core of Mexico’s new political regime: To carry out its policy proposals in the future, Morena will require institutions. Yet the party has destroyed those.
Mexico will soon be an example of how the concentration of power in a president or small political group can be accompanied by enormous weakness. Anarchy, improvisation, and incompetence will more than likely define the coming years.
Democracy is not the normal and natural state of politics—it’s an exception in history. Mexico has squandered its chance to build a democracy. Institutional power cannot be transferred to a person; if institutions are weakened or destroyed, that power disappears, clearing the way for a leader to act on their impulses. Under López Obrador and Sheinbaum, Mexico has become a very different country, and the consequences will soon have a regional impact. Everyone interested in democracy and the rule of law should be raising the alarm.