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Intervened poster of the World Cup venue, Guadalajara

Intervened poster of the World Cup venue, Guadalajara

#WhatWillWeBeIn2026: World Cup, Forced Disappearances and 20 Years of the War on Drugs in Mexico

In Perspective On June 11, the countdown began for the World Cup organized by the International Federation of Association Football (FIFA), which will be held in Canada, the United States and Mexico in a year's time. In the latter, the three cities selected were Mexico City, Guadalajara, and Monterrey, which are the largest and considered to be the most economically important. The World Cup slogan is #WeAre26, which has served to introduce the 16 cities in the three countries that will host the soccer matches.

Another countdown for Mexico will begin on December 11, which in 2026 will mark 20 years since the launch of the public security militarisation strategy known as the War on Drugs, decreed by the then-President Felipe Calderón Hinojosa. The results are incalculable, not only because statistics of violence fail to capture the complexity of the phenomenon and its cultural and subjective dimensions, but also because one of its main legacies has been the gradual normalisation of barbarism through successive thresholds of tolerance.

In any social recounting that highlights the crossing of such limits, different names emerge in memory of inhabitants: Sol y Sombra Nightclub, Casino Royale, San Fernando, Villas de Salvárcar, Tlatlaya, Allende, Tanhuato, Iguala, Teuchitlán, among hundreds of other cases. These places mark milestones of extreme violence, repeated with alarming frequency in the country´s recent history. Events such as one of the first public displays of decapitated heads, as well as executions, massacres and mass forced disappearances are recalled. Taken together, these episodes of violence have contributed to shaping a paradoxical combination of social anaesthesia and generalized post-traumatic stress in Mexico. Within this framework, I find important to pause and reflect on the following overlapping of calendars.

On the one hand, we must take stock of a country profoundly different from the one that existed before 2006; on the other hand, the World Cup is an event that, as seen in recent decades in other countries, has served as an exceptional juncture to deploy mechanisms of urban and social reordering that deepen accumulation processes in contemporary capitalism. In the case of the Mexican cities hosting the matches, we must also consider the dynamics of violence tied to the activities of the criminal economy, particularly the phenomenon of forced disappearance, since all three rank among the ten cities with the highest incidences in a country where this occurs systematically.

The political uses of mega sporting events

The World Cup, together with the Summer Olympic Games, are the world´s biggest sport mega-events and perhaps among the last nationalist rituals that persist since the globalization processes became dominant. In recent decades, mega-events have functioned as exceptional junctures to deploy mechanisms of urban and social reordering that allow the deepening of capitalist accumulation. This involves various expressions, most visible the construction of infrastructure or real estate speculation.

The exceptional nature of mega-events results from a combination of ad hoc legislation, corporate interests that pounce on cities, and the creation of social consensus aimed at the acceptance of the measures adopted; for example, when the presence of the military in the streets or urban interventions to host major sporting events are internalised as necessary. This set of problems has generated multiple criticisms and resistance, which has been silenced by government and media propaganda, as well as by processes of securitisation –understood as the constant definition of threats by states, media oligopolies and corporate interests– that accompanies the staging of these mega-events.

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To this we must add that these sporting events serve a clear political and geopolitical purpose: they offer certain political projects an opportunity to showcase to the world the progress or results of their efforts. What was much clearer during the Cold War, is now visible in the successive staging of these sporting events by "emerging" international players, notably the bloc of countries known as BRICS (Beijing 2008 Olympics, South Africa 2010 World Cup, Brazil 2014 World Cup and Rio 2016 Olympics, Russia 2018 World Cup) and, more recently, by Middle Eastern oil-producing states (Qatar 2022 and Saudi Arabia 2034). The realization of mega-events in these countries involved, in addition to attempts to make social problems invisible, human rights violations, various financial problems, environmental devastation, or the improvement of repressive and control mechanisms. In short, the sacrifice of cities and populations as a tribute to the value that valorises itself and for negligent political projects that hope to be recognized and remembered.

World Cup in the Country of Widespread Enforced Disappearance

FIFA´s decision on the venues for next year's World Cup, announced on June 13, 2018, generated concerns in Mexico about effects commonly associated with hosting: the accumulation of public debt as the real legacy (rather than the infrastructure built for the competitions), evictions, expulsion from public space of certain social actors (popular commerce and people living on the streets) to "improve" the image of the cities, and gentrification, as well as the reinforcement of surveillance and militarisation. In the case of Mexican host cities, specific problems have been identified, such as water scarcity for daily consumption. All these factors are important for the residents of the three Mexican cities.

One of the most damaging expressions of our present is the crisis of enforced disappearance [1]. As of mid-July 2025, according to the National Registry of Missing and Unaccounted for Persons (RNPDNO), the cipher stood at 130,341 persons, at the same time that historical marks have been set in the incidence of this phenomenon among young people. As pointed out on multiple occasions, the registry dates back to December 31, 1952, but over 90% of cases occurred since 2006, that is, since the launch of the militarisation of public security. The database is constantly updated, and trends may vary by state according to specific determinants, including different data-entry rates and, in some cases, omissions on the part of the responsible authorities.

What cannot be ignored, despite the attempts by the Mexican state and incumbent governments, is the scale of the problem, which even prompted a visit by the United Nations Committee on Enforced Disappearances. Among its conclusions, the Committee stated that disappearance in Mexico is the "paradigm of the perfect crime". In 2025, the available information and complaints led, for the first time, to the activation of the procedure under article 34 of the International Convention for the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance, which provides for consideration by the United Nation´s General Assembly.

Added to this are profound transformations in the daily coexistence with the phenomenon of enforced disappearance. The limits crossed relate to repeated episodes of repression and murder of searchers for the disappeared, the governmental handling of cases, which includes psychological torture to relatives and solidarity groups, and the trivialisation and denial of what is happening in different regions of the country. This trajectory includes the disappearances and femicides in Ciudad Juarez since the 1990s, the disappearance of the Ayotzinapa normalistas in 2014, the discovery of thousands of clandestine graves, as well as the dissemination of techniques to make bodies disappear, among them incineration and chemical dissolution.

A further element concerns the institutional and media treatment of mothers, families and collectives searching for the missing. Although these struggles have historically faced stigmatizing treatment –portraying them as “confused” or the “madwomen of the plaza”, what has happened in recent months in Mexico has a different character: they are accused of lying and, in not so-veiled, of being part of a strategy to destabilise a government that also enjoys broad social support, controls diverse media outlets, and content creators on social networks/digital platforms and, last but not least, invokes reason of state.

The distances of horror and pain

One of the main effects of the government strategies employed since 2006 is the pulverisation of criminal economy groups (partly due to the ineffective kingpin strategy based on the imprisonment or assassination of their leaders) and the corresponding fragmentation of the territory as a result of ensuing disputes. Estimates suggest that at the beginning of Calderon's six-year term there were 8 cartels dedicated to illicit trafficking, while by the end of 2020 there were more than 550, along with a massive diversification in their activities. Currently, these include human and arms trafficking, as well as a variety of illegal rents, such as monopolies over products and services, protection fees functioning as illicit tax collection, and participation in extractive activities.

This is a process in which contemporary capitalism finds in the activities of the criminal economy a way to reproduce itself by crossing previously established boundaries and spreading into different areas. This produces new cartographies determined by disputes over territories and populations with the objective of spoliation, which explains the dynamics of violence, including disappearances committed by individuals with the action, omission or acquiescence of the State.

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If we look at indicators on the disappearance of people in the three Mexican venues that will host World Cup matches, the following picture emerges. As of May 2025, the Guadalajara Metropolitan Area (AMG) registers the highest incidence of this phenomenon nationwide. The municipalities of Guadalajara (3,055 missing persons), Zapopan (2,451), Tlajomulco de Zúñiga (1,393), Tlaquepaque (1,175) and Tonalá (699) stand out. The Akron Stadium, located in Zapopan, will host four games of the competition.

From a spatial perspective and in terms of travel times within a 50 kilometres radius, there are sites associated with forced recruitment and kidnapping (Tlaquepaque bus station), centres of slavery, training and extermination (Sierra de Tlaquepaque, Sierra de Navajas-Ahuisculco, Rancho Izaguirre). Researchers Camilo Vicente and Alejandra Guillén haver further suggested that circuits of forced disappearance operate in this areas.

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A map of the main venues in the state of Jalisco

Nuevo León, whose capital will be another of the World Cup venues, ranks fifth among Mexican states in number of disappearances. Monterrey itself concentrates the highest figure, with 2,029 missing persons as of May 2025. The BBVA Stadium, where four World Cup matches will take place, is located in the municipality of Guadalupe, which has the second-highest number in the state, with 534 missing persons. It is followed by the municipalities of General Escobedo (424), Apodaca (451), and Juarez (325).

About an hour from the Stadium, in the municipalities of Hidalgo and Sabinas Victoria, clandestine graves have been found with hundreds of thousands of unidentified remains. Similar findings have been reported further north, an hour and a half from the capital, in Sabinas Hidalgo. A striking feature of this state is its figures on the disappearance of women, which are above the national average. In General Escobedo, women account for 30.22% of all disappearances, while in other municipalities the proportion ranges from 23.10% (Monterrey) and 27.43% (Guadalupe).

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A map of the main venues in the state of Nuevo León

The Mexico City Metropolitan Area, where the country's capital is located, with more than 20 million inhabitants, has oscillated between seventh and eighth place in terms of the number of forced disappearances. A remarkable aspect of this dynamic is the worsening of the phenomenon in recent years, as well as the growing proportion of missing women compared to men. In the Banorte Stadium (better known as Estadio Azteca), five World Cup matches are scheduled, including the opening ceremony, one of the moments with the most significant global attention.

Within the capital of the country, the administrative delegations with the highest concentration of forced disappearances are Iztapalapa (911 missing persons), Gustavo A. Madero (766 missing persons) and Cuauhtémoc (698 missing persons). However, disappearances and the search efforts have also been linked to the Tlalpan, Magdalena Contreras or Álvaro Obregón corridors, which connect the city´s southwest with the State of Mexico (second nationwide in forced disappearance) and Morelos.

In addition to being a porous area due to crossings to both states, this region includes wooded and isolated areas where disappearances and human remains have been reported. For this reason, citizen search efforts have been carried out for years in these areas, especially in Ajusco. According to RNPDNO figures, the proportion of missing women in the capital ranges between 30 and 35 per cent in the delegations, with the highest incidence, and exceeds 41 percent in Tlalpan and Coyoacán, the latter being where the Azteca Stadium is located.

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A map of the main venues in Mexico City

In the mirror of Rio

Almost ten years ago I conducted fieldwork in Rio de Janeiro to document the militarisation process anticipated as a central element in the realisation of the 2016 Olympics and Paralympics. By then, it was a phenomenon I had already studied for several years and, in the case of the carioca capital a policing model embedded in popular areas (favelas) –known as Pacifying Police Units (UPP)– had been developed. This model consisted of building fortifications within the communities themselves.

The principle of intervention was tied to a cycle of mega-events that lasted more than a decade in the city, starting with the 2007 Pan American Games and including the World Cup, and culminating with the Olympic Games. This cycle led a few months before the Olympics, to the host city being declared in a state of financial calamity.

To implement the UPPs in different favelas, large-scale operations were carried out with the participation of the Armed Forces and the city's Military Police. But in order to intervene in the larger favela complexes –such as Alemão/Penha and Maré– the military operations Arcanjo (2011) and São Francisco (2014-2015) were launched. These incursions were considered the largest since the internal wars of the 19th century that consolidated the Brazilian state.

There is no entirely precise data on the number of people killed –reports speak of dozens before and during the implementation of the UPPs– or on those who disappeared during the months of these operations. However, there are testimonies about different episodes of violence during the period. Even while I was in the city, diverse expressions of armed violence (including massacres) unfolded in plain sight. In this context, a slogan emerged that captured the contradictions of the moment: the party in the stadiums is not worth the tears in the favelas (A festa nos estádios não vale as lágrimas nas favelas).

What will we be in 2026?

In addition to the millionaire public-private investment in the venues, 5.5 million tourists are expected to arrive in the country during the World Cup, with projected economic revenue of around 60 billion Mexican pesos. On the horizon, national symbols are set to be exalted, including the so-called Pueblos Mágicos, or the Mayan world reconverted into a commodity under the Grupo Mundo Maya brand. At the same time, environmental devastation is deepening through projects such as the misnamed Maya Train and the Inter-Oceanic Corridor of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec.

In Mexico, there are disastrous precedents linking repression, social anaesthesia, and the staging of sports mega-events. In 1968, just 10 days before the inauguration of the Olympics Games, the Tlatelolco Square massacre took place, marking the second half of Mexico's twentieth century. Two years later, under President Gustavo Díaz Ordaz and his repressive legacy, the first World Cup was held in Mexico, remembered for the "match of the century" or the consecration of Edson Arantes do Nascimento, Pelé.

In 1986, after Colombia declined to host the tournament due to logistical and financial demands, Mexico was selected once again (in 1983) as host. That World Cup, remembered for Diego Armando Maradona´s performance, and especially for his two goals against England, took place only one year after the most devastating earthquake in the country, which had destabilised the PRI´s state-party regime.

In 2026 it will be twenty years since the beginning of a historic period in Mexico that has marked the lives of millions of people, with no way out on the near horizon. Beyond the figures that reveal the cruelty of this process, profound cultural and subjective transformations have accumulated, changes that persist as they crystallise within society. At the same time, a sports mega-event will take place, which under current conditions will reinforce the militarisation of public space and the expansion of the surveillance and control mechanisms.

It is difficult to know whether the territorial dispute over the illicit resource extraction, access to and control of trafficking routes, extortion, commercialisation of illegal stimulants, human trafficking for labour or sexual exploitation, or the smuggling of migrants will give the population any respite. Mirroring the formal economy, it is unlikely that the structures of the criminal economy will forgo the opportunities such an event provides.

The overlapping of calendars has a correlation in the overlapping of territorialities and processes. At the same time that the World Cup fiesta is taking place, and that the capitals with ravenous hunger are taking over the venue cities and touristified spaces around the country, we will continue to be immersed in disputes over territories and populations by the structures of the criminal economy. But we will also mark two decades since we entered the spiral of barbarism, becoming a country of disappearances, clandestine graves, femicides, and the obliteration of the future for its children and young people.

I have no doubt that in 2026 there will be resistance: against the deepening of the city-as-commodity model, against the dispossession of water and against the militarisation of public space. I am certain that mothers and collectives searching for their loved ones will continue, with their tools, creativity, and tenacity to pierce the layers of oblivion and impunity. But as a country, will there be a chance to socially process what has happened in these twenty years? Will we continue indefinitely on the same path? And what will become of the demand for justice, memory and reparation? What will become of the memory work through amid so much catastrophe?

Footnotes

  1. 1

    I thank my friend Rita Canto Vergara for her contributions and feedback regarding the issue of enforced disappearance.

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