A captured kingpin, a shifting criminal order, and a structure too deep to dismantle reveal the limits of state power.
Culiacán, October 2025
A full year has passed since the arrest of Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada García, one of the founding architects of the Sinaloa Cartel and one of the most elusive figures in the history of organized crime. Yet the fall of this legendary capo has not brought stability to Mexico’s security landscape. On the contrary, it has exposed the enduring resilience of a criminal system that adapts, regenerates, and continues to challenge state authority. Zambada’s own warnings about the depth of narcotrafficking now seem prophetic, as the structure he helped build remains firmly intact.
When federal forces captured Zambada in late 2024, the event was hailed by the government as a historic breakthrough. The narrative projected by authorities was simple: one of the most powerful drug lords in the world was behind bars, and the cartel would soon follow. Reality, however, unfolded differently. Within weeks of his detention, internal divisions within the Sinaloa Cartel intensified. The two main factions — one loyal to the sons of Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán, known as “Los Chapitos,” and the other aligned with Zambada’s own lineage under the leadership of his son, Ismael Zambada Sicairos, also known as “Mayito Flaco” — entered a bitter competition for control of trafficking routes, financial networks, and alliances with local groups.
This internal conflict has not weakened the organization as much as many analysts predicted. Instead, it has forced the cartel to evolve. Territorial disputes have grown more strategic, money laundering networks more sophisticated, and external alliances with smaller criminal groups more flexible. The result is a structure that is less hierarchical but equally effective, and in some regions, even more difficult for authorities to penetrate.
Zambada, before his capture, had frequently criticized the state’s approach to combating organized crime. He argued that removing kingpins was a superficial solution to a much deeper problem. According to him, the drug trade is sustained by entrenched corruption, institutional weakness, and widespread social complicity. As long as those conditions remain unchanged, the removal of one figure simply creates space for another. His words now serve as an uncomfortable reminder of why decades of arrests and extraditions have failed to dismantle Mexico’s cartels.
Security experts point to another layer of Zambada’s critique: the reactive nature of state operations. For years, federal authorities have relied on militarized raids, tactical strikes, and high-profile captures. Yet these measures rarely disrupt the economic or logistical foundations of criminal networks. Instead, they trigger short-term chaos while leaving the core structures untouched. The situation in 2025 reflects this pattern clearly. In states like Sinaloa, Michoacán, Tamaulipas, and Baja California, violence remains high despite a series of high-level arrests. Drug production, trafficking routes, and distribution chains continue to function.
Another issue lies in the political dimension of Mexico’s anti-narcotics strategy. Zambada once questioned whether the president and his security cabinet truly understood the scale of the challenge they faced. He suggested that state agencies often exaggerate their achievements and conceal ongoing failures, creating a distorted picture of progress. The current reality appears to support that critique. Despite record numbers of cartel arrests, Mexico continues to face record levels of violence, with homicides, extortion cases, and territorial disputes showing little sign of decline.
Even from behind bars, Zambada’s influence lingers. The Sinaloa Cartel’s operational resilience after his capture reflects the decentralized nature of modern organized crime. Decision-making is now distributed among multiple nodes, and leadership changes have not halted the flow of drugs, the circulation of capital, or the expansion into new markets such as synthetic opioids and human trafficking. Zambada’s belief that organized crime is a systemic phenomenon, rather than a collection of individuals, is being demonstrated in real time.
The capture of El Mayo also underscores the limitations of Mexico’s broader security model. Without structural reforms that address corruption, poverty, and governance deficits, the state will continue to fight an endless series of battles without winning the war. Experts argue that dismantling criminal empires requires not only arrests but also institutional transformation. That means financial intelligence units capable of disrupting money laundering, independent prosecutors willing to pursue corruption cases, and social policies that reduce recruitment into organized crime.
One year later, the challenge is stark. The Mexican government has achieved a symbolic victory by bringing down one of the most notorious cartel leaders of the modern era. But symbolism alone does not shift the balance of power. The Sinaloa Cartel remains a dominant force, deeply embedded in communities, economies, and political systems. Its structure has proven remarkably adaptive, and its influence extends beyond Mexico’s borders into the United States, Europe, and Asia.
Zambada’s arrest was meant to mark the beginning of the end for the Sinaloa Cartel. Instead, it has highlighted how far the state still has to go. The organization he helped build has shown that it is more than a network of criminals. It is an ecosystem of corruption, violence, and economic dependency that thrives on institutional weakness. As long as that ecosystem remains intact, the capture of one man, no matter how powerful, will not dismantle it.
Beyond the news, the pattern. / Más allá de la noticia, el patrón.