Tequila and mariachis gave Jalisco worldwide fame. But, unfortunately, the western Mexican state bathed by the Pacific has been much more present in international media in recent years due to the extreme violence in the cradle of one of the bloodiest cartels in the entire country, the Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG), the sadly notorious and powerful criminal organization dedicated to drug trafficking.
The operation of the Mexican Army, in close collaboration with the US, which managed to end in February the reign of its fearsome historic leader, Nemesio Oseguera Cervantes, alias El Mencho, has allowed Jalisco an improvement in security rates so far this year. However, the cartel is rebuilding its tentacles after the blows to its leadership, with its new capo at the helm, Juan Carlos Valencia González, alias El 03 or Pelón, El Mencho’s stepson, who shortly after his death assumed the leadership of the criminal organization. “It’s as if we had been in a calm before the storm,” says a local from Jalisco to EL MUNDO who prefers to remain anonymous.
The impressive operation that took down El Mencho on February 22, 2026, in Tapalpa unleashed panic in the region, with days of extraordinary violence, vehicle burnings, road blockades, and security forces on high alert. In a single day 25 soldiers and 33 criminals lost their lives, according to Efe. Afterwards, “the community was in a tense calm because no disputes occurred, particularly because there was a deployment of federal forces. However, the criminal structure remained because drug sales continued to flow,” explains to EL MUNDO the member of the independent media ZonaDocs, Darwin Franco.
For his part, the co-founder of the collective Luz de Esperanza Desaparecidos Jalisco, Héctor Flores González, warns us that “insecurity has not diminished because the organization remains intact, despite the arrests”. He refers to the captures by federal authorities of other cartel leaders such as Audias Flores Silva, alias El Jardinero, on April 26. “The US and Mexico demonstrate that they are capable of capturing the big bosses. But it’s another thing to end the criminal structure,” adds Franco.
One of the worst nightmares for the local population is disappearances, that is, forced recruitments by organized criminal groups in the region, especially the Jalisco Cartel, which need slave labor to sustain their operations and clandestine fields. To this end, they resort both to recruiting people, many in desperate situations, and to kidnappings, including many minors. Augusto Chacón Benavides, director of the organization Jalisco Cómo Vamos, emphasizes to this newspaper that disappearances are “both for enslaving work and for revenge and debt collection through killing people and making them disappear.”
Ceci Flores Armenta, leader of the collective Madres Buscadoras de Sonora, highlights how organizations take advantage of the state of need of so many excluded citizens. “They recruit them with (deceptive) job offers. They offer a good salary, houses, and even cars online.” Once they fall into the trap, many “are trained to kill”. Besides turning them into hitmen, they perform other functions, from cooking and cleaning to forced sex work and drug smuggling.
Today, anyone is a target. Teacher Nadia Cea tells EL MUNDO how they infiltrate everyday life: “They pretend they are looking for employees. And the greatest fear among the population is that you can no longer look for work because you don’t know if it’s real or not”. Faced with this insecure outlook, society survives in an environment where violence is normalized. And the situation forces citizens to measure each of their moves. “If you are driving and someone in a truck overtakes you on a street, you can’t honk or confront them because you don’t know if they are armed,” concludes Cea.
While fear prevails, “disappearances remain the same. The cartel continues forced recruitment because it is an operational necessity. And, despite having cut off the cartel’s head, all its cells remain active,” says Flores González, who personally experienced in 2021 the disappearance of his son, Dani, when he was 19, taken from his home by members of the State Prosecutor’s Office. The case revealed the infiltration of criminality within state agencies, which increases citizen distrust.
Throughout Mexico, there are more than 130,000 missing persons recorded. Only in Jalisco, a total of 16,191, according to the State Registry. However, these figures could be just the tip of the iceberg due to widespread fear that prevents people from going to the authorities. Chacón Benavides explains that “beyond the tragedy, there is distrust. Some say: ‘I don’t report because I’m afraid of reprisals'”. This panic is confirmed by Flores Armenta: “Many are intimidated because they are taken away in front of their family and told that if they look for them, they will also be disappeared.”
“There is a lot of fear to report. People get used to it because they have to keep living, but not to be happy, but to avoid conflicts”, laments Chacón Benvides. On her side, Flores Armenta, who receives daily disappearance reports, relates that “they can’t live peacefully. There is always the fear that someone from the cartel will show up.” Such is the violence that Héctor Flores warns that “it’s not about being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that even at your home they can come, break down the door and take you away.”