This article was originally published in Spanish in Aristegui Noticias, available here.
The country is experiencing one of its most critical moments of impunity. The recent demonstration by truck drivers in response to the violence they face is more than a cry for help—it is a cry of desperation and sheer survival. Many regions of the country are under the control of organized crime, and it seems as though the prosecutorial authorities have nothing to do with it. That is what the “Fourth Transformation” (4T) has led us to believe.
Contrary to the image that has been sold to us in recent years, violence and insecurity are not problems that can be addressed solely in the streets or through the arrest of alleged criminals, nor do they depend only on a Judicial Branch composed of “competent” judges of “unquestionable integrity” chosen—apparently—by the people.
Using the rise in violence as an excuse, the 4T further militarized public security, and we have seen no positive change. The administration also tried to mislead us by advancing a popular-election process for the Judiciary, claiming that this would reduce impunity and ensure justice. Nothing could be further from the truth. Justice will hardly come without an autonomous, professionalized Prosecutor’s Office equipped to investigate and effectively prosecute cases before a judge. That is precisely why the government needed judges on its side while keeping the Prosecutor’s Office out of the public debate. A complicit judiciary and a subordinate Prosecutor’s Office work best for authoritarian governments seeking to operate without checks and balances.
In this context—and despite civil society’s efforts to highlight the central role of the Prosecutor’s Office and push for a solid, genuinely autonomous institution, efforts that even resulted in significant constitutional and legal reforms—the Prosecutor’s Office in Mexico has historically been a tool of political control. It has never been an autonomous institution, independent from the executive branch, serious and professional, committed to truth and justice. Autonomy means investigating anyone who commits a crime, regardless of who they are or where they come from, without external interference in that decision. This Prosecutor’s Office has done everything but investigate crimes, and by perpetuating impunity, it also perpetuates violence. That is why the violence we see in the streets is so closely tied to the Prosecutor’s Office and to those in charge of it.
Successive parties and governments have used the Prosecutor’s Office for their own benefit, appointing “close” or “friendly” prosecutors who protect them and their interests. As Alejandro Gertz Manero himself said in his infamous 100-day report upon taking office: we have a Prosecutor’s Office designed to protect friends and persecute enemies. This 4T government, along with Gertz Manero, far from strengthening prosecutorial autonomy, threw years of work and effort overboard and cemented the alliance between the Prosecutor’s Office and the Executive Branch. It cemented subordination with the Senate’s complicity. They violated the constitutional principle of autonomy.
It is not that autonomy doesn’t work for a Prosecutor’s Office. The model is not the problem. The problem is the perversion, manipulation, and misuse of so-called autonomy—because real power brokers have no use for it when they cannot control it.
With the Revolutionary Institutional Party (PRI, by its Spanish acronym), this was crystal clear. Who can forget Peña Nieto’s attempt to appoint Raúl Cervantes as the first “autonomous” Prosecutor, which gave rise to the term “friendly prosecutor” (fiscal carnal)? Many of the figures now in the 4T opposed it back then; one can still find photos of them in the Senate holding signs that read “No to the fiscal carnal.” Today, they are part of the same game.
Although the 4T built much of its strength on demands for justice and complaints of the violence, corruption, and impunity of previous governments, once in power it has only continued—and even perfected—the same practices, deepening the co-optation and dismantling of law enforcement and justice institutions.
The first step was to follow in the footsteps of its predecessors by appointing Alejandro Gertz Manero—a close ally of former President López Obrador—as Prosecutor General. From the beginning of his tenure—and with the Senate’s complicit silence—he violated the Constitution by refusing to comply with the Organic Law of the Prosecutor’s Office. That law, developed jointly with civil society to move the institution forward, had been approved by the Senate shortly before. He failed to establish the Prosecutorial Council, failed to submit the reports required by law, failed to produce the criminal prosecution plan—which was essential for the public to know his priorities for combating impunity—and failed to follow the rules for appointing special prosecutors. Most importantly, there was no strategy to confront the entrenched organized crime and grand corruption the country is facing. He leaves the country engulfed in impunity and the institution even more destroyed. That is the final diagnosis of his tenure.
Rather than acting as an institutional counterweight and demanding compliance with the law, the Senate once again contributed to institutional weakening by amending the Organic Law of the Prosecutor’s Office at Gertz Manero’s request. The law imposed obligations that were, by all indications, inconvenient for him. The reform dismantled the advances achieved and diluted all accountability mechanisms. They handed him a tailor-made law so he could dismantle the institution.
Despite having criticized the previous use of the Prosecutor’s Office to benefit those in power, Gertz Manero acted according to the same unwritten rule: he decided to pursue scientists and academics—considered “enemies” of the administration—as well as his niece-in-law, with whom he had personal grievances. Meanwhile, he left the “friends” untouched: military officials facing serious allegations of involvement in serious crimes and gross human rights violations—such as General Salvador Cienfuegos. He also failed to investigate the military officers who, in collusion with the Federal Executive, systematically concealed information on the Ayotzinapa case. He conducted a tailor-made investigation to guarantee impunity for Francisco Garduño, the former head of the National Migration Institute and a close ally of the 4T, regarding the fire in Ciudad Juárez that left 40 dead and around 26 injured after authorities refused to open the door, causing migrants to die trapped by flames and smoke. Under his leadership, the Prosecutor’s Office was defined by its inaction in the face of one of the most severe humanitarian crises the country faces—one that the government tries to deny at all costs—with nearly 150,000 people disappeared.
And precisely because the fundamental role of the Prosecutor’s Office has been erased from public debate, those who lead the institution have remained beyond any accountability—especially for what they have failed to do. Their responsibility in the context of violence, insecurity, and impunity has been silenced. Instead of being required to answer for their performance, they leave their posts rewarded: the Prosecutor General, apparently with an ambassadorship, and his former Special Prosecutor for Human Rights, Sara Irene Herrerías—who oversaw the units for Disappeared Persons and Migrants—now serves as a justice on the Supreme Court of Justice of the Nation.
In this context, it is worth asking: Why did the Prosecutor General leave? Why did he “retire”? Can someone simply decide to step down and take another position? We do not know whether he violated a pact or what the real cause is. We are a country where complicit silences are rewarded and accountability is nonexistent. As Mexicans, we do not deserve this, and responsibility lies with the President and with the Senate. Gertz should have left long ago; in fact, he should never have been appointed in the first place. But now he cannot simply walk away without being held accountable.
It would be deeply unfortunate if nothing happens in response to these abuses—if the Senate, once again complicit, fails to hold a serious debate on his departure, demand accountability, and disclose the real reason for his “retirement”; if there is no civic reaction, no public outcry, despite what the 4T is doing in the face of a profound impunity crisis, treating appointments to our justice institutions as pieces in a political game to be moved at their convenience.
The height of make-believe and cynicism is the Senate’s open call for candidates to lead the Prosecutor’s Office: they give one weekend—three days—for candidates to submit documents and apply. Seriously? Do they think serious, professional individuals with a vocation for justice will take part in this charade? Is this the importance they assign to one of the most crucial institutions in the country? Meanwhile, they appoint as “acting prosecutor” one of their most loyal allies— none other than the legal counsel to President Claudia Sheinbaum’s Cabinet until a day ago —who will most likely become the next Prosecutor General. It seems the value they place on autonomy is zero. They don’t even bother to keep up appearances anymore. These are the same practices we saw and lived through under other political parties such as the PRI and PAN.
Many of the institutions we fought for over many years have been lost in recent times. Citizen participation is an essential tool to recover institutions, and this begins with those who lead them. In the midst of the crisis enveloping Mexico, the appointment of the next Prosecutor General is of the utmost importance, and we cannot remain on the sidelines. We will only be able to restore our democracy if we step forward to defend it—if we involve ourselves in defending what belongs to us. Justice belongs to us. These institutions belong to us; they do not belong to just a few.