Mexico’s Fading Leviathan

November 30, 2025

Luis Rubio

When Thomas Hobbes wrote Leviathan in 1651, he offered a warning that still resonates: chaos is humanity’s natural state (“solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short”), and order must be built—and rebuilt—by legitimate authority. A government that cannot guarantee security loses its right to rule.

That ancient tension hangs over Mexico today. Violence is not new here; the 19th century was marred by decades of bloodshed until Porfirio Díaz imposed order. But today’s insecurity is different in both scale and nature. It’s not about scattered bandits or partisan militias—it’s about powerful criminal networks with huge firepower that cross borders, buy politicians, and kill with impunity.

Mexico’s democratic transition brought many gains, but public safety wasn’t one of them. The country built electoral institutions but not the ones that keep citizens safe. As Colombia dismantled its cartels and the U.S. hardened its borders after 9/11, Mexico’s weakened old political order and (corrupt) police forces and judiciary collapsed just as organized crime surged.

Presidents have since oscillated between neglect and confrontation. Vicente Fox preferred to look away (“why me?”), while Felipe Calderón plunged into war, exposing the rot beneath. His strategy unleashed violence—but the problem he faced was real and remains unresolved. Two decades later, criminal groups wield more firepower than ever, while the Mexican state looks weaker, not stronger. And, with it, the risk of chaos.

President López Obrador’s “hugs, not bullets” approach was meant to break the cycle of bloodshed. Instead, it has deepened the perception of impotence, while organized crime has strengthened greatly. To her credit, President Sheinbaum didn’t create this crisis; she inherited it. But by systematically undermining institutions rather than strengthening them, her government has made an already dangerous equation worse: a fragile state confronted by ever-bolder criminal empires.

The assassination of Uruapan’s mayor is a grim reminder that violence is now a political as well as a security crisis. The army can once again pacify Michoacán temporarily—but unless the state itself is rebuilt, the peace will evaporate the moment troops leave, as happened twice before. One must wonder why a similar approach is expected to yield a different result.

Napoleon once observed that when crime rises, it is proof that poverty is big while society is badly governed. Morena understands the poverty part, but as long as it continues to refuse to accept that governance lies at the core of the problem, it won’t attain its objectives.