Disorder

June 22, 2025

Luis Rubio

Disruption and disorder are distinct phenomena that at times combine and reinforce each other. Disorder, according to the dictionary, is often a sustained abnormal state of functioning. Disruption, on the other hand, can be intentional, provoked to advance processes of change and transformation. In both cases, the impact on the population is always significant.

Disorder in Mexico is legendary and cannot be attributed, as those currently in power claim, solely to the “neoliberal era.” Just to illustrate, Mexico has always been violent, and the culture of violence dates back at least to the 19th century. The PRI managed to control disorder, but it never eradicated it, and it is equally unlikely that Morena will make much headway in that area.

Mexico is currently experiencing two sources of disruption and disorder. One comes from abroad, and the other is internal. The disruption promoted by President Trump is visible, loud, and noticeable at every level. The internal one is more covert, implicit, and contested, but no less real. The combination creates an environment that fluctuates between optimism and fatalism. Both are intentional strategies aimed at reshaping the world we live in. Regardless of the destination Mexico reaches —if we don’t shipwreck along the way—it is clear that we are immersed in a process of profound change.

Both Trump and AMLO, and now Claudia Sheinbaum, promote disruptive processes largely because they each face, in their own contexts, inconsistencies and demands that cannot be addressed with existing tools. Their responses may be good or bad, desirable or undesirable, but they are attempts to build sources of certainty to make their respective nations viable. The common denominator is a yearning for the past, which inevitably leads to seeking anchorage in the familiar—in other words, in yesteryear.

For Trump, returning to the past means restoring the overwhelming American dominance of the post–World War II era—an unachievable goal, a historical impossibility, as has been made evident by the realities of financial markets and the nations affected by his tariffs. Whatever the outcome of his initiatives in the face of powerful economic forces like China or Europe, or military ones like Russia, the relevance for Mexico (and Canada, whether Canadians accept it or not) is indisputable and overwhelming. North America will continue to integrate—with or without rules—but uncertainty will not cease to be an uncontrollable disruptive factor.

Internally, Morena is the main source of disruption. The motivation is twofold: on the one hand, the need to build a sustainable platform for stability and to preserve themselves in power. That’s why they created social programs, whose cash transfers are intended to foster dependency on the party and government to secure long-term loyalty. On the other hand, they look to the past with the intent of reconstructing the old presidency, eliminating obstacles to the exercise of power (what liberal democracy calls checks and balances), and recreating the old party as a mechanism for political control. In doing so, they destroy all vestiges of legality and pluralism, because these hinder the corruption and impunity that are inherent to their project.

Trump serves as a major distraction from Morena’s offensive. His behavior, threats, and bluster allow the Mexican President to present herself as a force of calm, reliability, and competence, which spares her from having to confront the pressing issue of economic growth—a challenge that must be addressed not only to manage fiscal pressures, but also to meet the population’s needs (and certainly those of the social programs). I have no doubt about the president’s commitment to economic growth, but it’s clear that the structure of her government and of Morena makes it impossible to create the necessary conditions for that growth to happen. The contradictions between the laws passed in recent months and the conditions required for investment to materialize are more than evident.

The disruption sought by both Trump and the Morena governments—each in their own arena—faces inevitable limits. Trump encounters these directly and visibly. The same is true for Morena’s project, even if it’s less publicized. The contradictions within Morena, implicitly revealed in the recent president’s letter to the membership of Morena, expose enormous interests in conflict. But above all are the ideological blinders, which translate into political realities and, ultimately, paralysis.

The great Cuban intellectual Carlos Alberto Montaner once said that all Marxist leaders had failed—from Lenin and Stalin to Pol Pot and Mao—and asked, “Why this persistent failure in the execution of Marxist ideas?” His answer: “First, because they were absurd. Second, for something very simple that Alexander Yakovlev told me when I asked him that question regarding the collapse of perestroika: ‘Because communism doesn’t fit human nature.’”

The Mexican issue is not one of communism or Marxism, but the principle is the same: just as artificial barriers to North American integration won’t stop it, Morena’s goals that go against human nature won’t progress either.