The Mexican Army: A Flawless Guardian or a Calculated Investment Mirage?

Really, a Picture of Pure Success?

The mainstream narrative surrounding the Mexican Army (Ejército Mexicano) is one of a valiant, indispensable force locked in a heroic struggle against powerful drug cartels. It is portrayed as the primary bulwark of national security, a trusted institution receiving unwavering public support and ever-increasing resources for its noble cause. But to the skeptical investor—whether of capital or of belief—this polished image demands immediate scrutiny. Is this a fundamentally sound entity, or are we buying into a narrative with severe, unacknowledged liabilities?

Let's examine the logical cracks in this façade. The central promise is that military deployment leads to sustainable security and stability. Yet, after over a decade and a half of the military's leading role in the "war on drugs," with budgets ballooning and legal powers expanding, the metrics of success are curiously elusive. Violence remains at catastrophic levels, homicides hover stubbornly high, and cartels have not been dismantled but have fragmented, often becoming more volatile. The business logic here is flawed: massive input (funding, legal authority) is not generating the promised output (peace, order). This suggests either a catastrophic operational inefficiency or that the stated objective is not the true objective.

The evidence against a simple "success" story is overwhelming. Reports from human rights organizations consistently document grave abuses—extrajudicial killings, torture, enforced disappearances—often with near-total impunity. The 2014 Tlatlaya massacre and the 2015 "Caso Tanhuato" are not mere glitches but systemic features. Furthermore, the army's foray into non-traditional roles, like building infrastructure and even running commercial enterprises (airports, banks), raises a critical question: Is this diversification of assets, or a dangerous mission creep that dilutes core competency and creates perverse incentives? For an investor, this looks like a company straying far from its stated business model while its core product (security) fails quality control.

Another Possibility: A Different Valuation Model

What if we consider an alternative hypothesis? Perhaps the institutional value of the Mexican Army is not primarily measured in "victories" over cartels, but in its function as a key political and economic stakeholder. Its sustained growth in budget and influence, despite operational "setbacks," could be the real ROI for the institution itself. Its expansion into civilian tasks secures funding streams and political relevance beyond the cyclical rhetoric of the drug war. From this angle, the persistent "threat" justifies the perpetual "investment."

We must also entertain the possibility that the relationship between the state forces and the cartels is not a simple binary of good vs. evil, but a more complex, and at times symbiotic, ecosystem of power. There are countless documented cases of corruption and collaboration at various levels. This doesn't mean the entire army is corrupt, but it suggests the operating environment is one of immense penetration and compromise, making a pure military "solution" a fantasy. An investor would call this a market with dangerously blurred lines and rampant insider trading.

So, what are the alternative investments? If the military-centric strategy is a high-cost, low-return asset, perhaps portfolio diversification is key. Heavy investment in local, accountable police forces built on community trust. A radical shift toward addressing the social portfolio: inequality, lack of opportunity, and weak judiciary—the fundamental drivers of the illicit market. Or, the politically toxic but logically coherent option of exploring regulated markets for certain substances to dismantle cartel profit margins. These are high-risk, long-term plays, but they target the root cause, not just the symptom.

In conclusion, a sober assessment for any serious observer must move beyond the heroic press releases. The Ejército Mexicano is a powerful, complex institution whose economic and political capital has grown even as its stated mission flounders. Before blindly investing faith or funds in the continuation of the current strategy, one must ask: Are we funding a solution, or are we capitalizing a system whose equilibrium depends on the perpetual presence of the problem? The wise investor does their due diligence, looks at the long-term balance sheet of violence and impunity, and considers divesting from a failing strategy to seek true, sustainable returns in justice and social development.