As I write, the polling stations are open for Mexican citizens to vote for the nation’s judiciary for the first time.
President Sheinbaum and her husband waved to onlookers after voting this morning in Mexico City, and AMLO spoke briefly to reporters at a polling station in Chiapas, in a rare public appearance since his retirement to La Chingada (his ranch). On social media, people are reporting low turnout at most polling stations, while the anti-judicial election marches haven’t drawn massive crowds either.
President Sheinbaum and her husband after voting on Sunday morning in Mexico City. (Gob MX)
From analysis by legal scholars, to exhortations by politicians and campaign messages from the candidates, there has been a lot of noise in the national conversation leading up to today—and what will come next. The electoral authorities have said they won’t have the final results until June 15, though preliminary data will start to be published after polling stations close this evening.
A few weeks ago, I reached out to Mariana Salas, a lawyer here in San Miguel de Allende who I’ve known for years, to hear her perspective on the upheaval in the judiciary and how it’s affected her as a practicing attorney. Mariana has 14 years of experience, and has specialized certifications in mediation and conflict negotiation, as well as in notarial law.
As you’ll read below, Mariana hadn’t yet decided about whether she’d participate in the election when we spoke, but since then, she told me she did decide to vote.
I came away from this conversation with a deeper appreciation for the obstacles faced by those in the legal profession in Mexico, and for the teetering uncertainty this reform presents at every level of the judicial system—for lawyers and their clients.
Note: This interview was conducted in Spanish and has been translated and edited for length and clarity.
Tell me about your big-picture perspective on this judicial reform. Is it a disaster? A necessary change? Or something less radical?
It’s hard to say—at this point, now that it's already been approved, I’d say it’s something in between. I share the view of many Mexican constitutional scholars— what I'm sharing here comes from my own perspective, but this isn’t really my analysis. That analysis has been done.
I agree with the law students who protested during the reform process saying:
“Yes to reform, but not like this.”
That’s been a recurring theme in constitutional reforms in Mexico over the years.
Yes, especially in a country as complex as Mexico—so large, diverse, and with a very specific political history. We’ve gone from a long period of one-party rule to a radical shift with another party. There’s a clear need for change, but also for balance.
We’re now trying to make the best of what’s already happened, without stopping the critical analysis—by which I mean studying and understanding what led to this major shift.
At first, I was shocked.
What did I feel when the reform passed? Sadness, anger. I read the minimum requirements for judges and magistrates and was stunned. If we’re so eager to compare ourselves to advanced countries, then we should make comparisons on that level.
So, back to your question—I do think judicial reform was necessary, but not like this.
The way this reform was rushed through opened the floodgates. It’s like opening the bullpen. Now, we’re seeing different groups pushing to get their own judges, magistrates, and justices into place. It’s creating confusion and, more seriously, deepening divisions.
In addition to federal judges, magistrates and justices, voters in 19 states are also electing their local judiciary. (INE/X)
That’s what worries me most—this growing polarization.
And when you look at social media, it’s just people fighting each other. Almost no one is talking about the Mexican legal system as an institution that must be protected in order to guarantee fundamental rights.
The big narrative behind the reform was eliminating privilege and corruption. And of course, the party pushing the reform—and our former president—knew how to sell that message.
I think only a very small group of people could say confidently, “I’m voting for this candidate” or “not that one.” And we’re going to be voting in a way we’ve never done before. I think turnout will be minimal.
And people are still fixated on the idea that “whatever happens, we’re fighting privilege and corruption.” But I think this is targeting an entirely different level—our constitutional system itself.
The claim by Morena is that this unprecedented election will make Mexico one of the most democratic countries in the world. What do you make of this argument?
I disagree with it. For two main reasons, which have already been widely discussed.
The three branches of government—the executive, legislative, and judicial—were created to balance each other and support democracy. The judicial branch isn’t supposed to be democratized in this way, because it doesn’t carry out executive functions.
It makes sense to vote for your mayor, your governor, your president, your lawmakers, because they are supposed to represent certain constituents, and are designed to function that way.
But the judiciary’s job is to guarantee everyone’s fundamental rights, as laid out in our Constitution, in international treaties, and in domestic laws. It’s not supposed to be partisan. So the idea of “democratizing” it just doesn’t make sense.
What’s actually happening is the erosion of democracy. Because now, the executive branch and the legislature are dominated by the same party, and they had the qualified majority to push this reform through.
So what we’re left with is a single party in control of all decisions. And if we had one safeguard left, it was the judiciary—and they threw that overboard.
How could more transparency in the judicial system be achieved another way?
There could have been many options other than direct election of judges, one would have been strengthening accountability mechanisms.
For example, removing judges, magistrates, or justices who engage in corruption or violate the law. Creating a better system for reviewing and sanctioning such misconduct would’ve been a much more effective and less drastic approach.
This could’ve been done in a specific, gradual way. It really makes you question things—why the rush? Or what are they afraid of? What’s the next move?
They could have addressed the real risks—like lack of accountability.
There have been serious constitutional violations with this reform and the “express” way it was passed. The most infamous was the case of Oaxaca, where the legislature passed this reform in two hours. I believe this will eventually be resolved at the Inter-American Court of Human Rights—maybe not quickly, but it will happen, even if it takes a decade.
What do you see as potential upsides to this election?
Thefirst positive thing I take away is that at least there’s a spark of interest in how the system works—in how the judicial branch operates. What does it mean? What does it involve? Hopefully, this helps us in the long run to better understand the system and also to ask: how am I a part of it? How do I contribute, or not? How is it relevant to me—not because we don’t have the right to vote or express opinions. There are a lot of people who’ve never had any interaction with the judicial system. And maybe that’s a good thing, right? Maybe they’ve just been lucky.
Yet many of those people still think it should be reformed or dismantled. And maybe it has awakened this urge to understand how it all works. For us, the lawyers, it’s already complex—extremely complex. I can say I do understand how the Supreme Court functions, what magistrates and judges do. I’ve used the services of local courts—what we call “juzgados de partido” or district courts. But even as someone deeply interested in this, I didn’t know about the courts specialized in telecommunications or antitrust issues. Diving into this topic opened a whole new opportunity for me to learn more about the system. And I hope it does the same for others.
When I talk about this with colleagues, it’s one thing. But when you talk about it with family and friends, it’s different.
They ask, “hey, what’s this judicial reform all about?” or “who are you voting for?” Some people have no interest, but others just want to understand a bit better.
Even if it’s not in depth—if you knew nothing before and now you know something, that’s better than nothing. If before you didn’t even know the difference between a civil and a criminal court, and now you're curious to learn, that’s progress. That would be a positive outcome, in my view.
How do you see this reform affecting the legal profession in Mexico more broadly?
Some of it has really weighed on me.
I kept thinking of a local judge who worked in San Miguel for many years. When I started practicing law, I was thrown into the deep end. And he was such a great help to me. He always stayed impartial, but I could go to him with questions—like, how to file for a precautionary measure.
He was a protector of the law. He helped shape me as a litigator when I was just starting out.
So when all this started happening, I thought of him—he was my closest reference point to what a judge really is. And I thought: how hard it must be to dedicate your whole life to a judicial career. Most people have no idea how hard they work. I had classmates from my specialty program working in courts, preparing for tough competitive exams, studying like crazy, paying for extra courses. They don’t sleep. They’re doing all that and getting a specialization. They’re using their own money, time, and resources just to make it.
And overnight, they’re told everything they’ve invested—time, knowledge—is worth nothing.
Sure, I don’t doubt there are some with privileges, but I think the vast majority of judicial staff earn their place—through study, endurance, and investment.
And people have been fed these claims like, “they earn $700,000 pesos a month.” Obviously, they don’t. A criminal trial judge earns maybe $90,000 a month—for a huge workload and potentially even risking their life.
It all brings sadness, frustration. And we need to be better informed, to form our own opinions—not just rely on TikTok or YouTube or whatever’s trending on social media. We need to dig deeper, do real analysis.
On the other hand, you can’t just blame the people supporting these radical changes. Because change is needed. We’ve failed as a nation. It's painful to admit—impunity is still sky-high. Nothing has changed. People are hungry—in every sense.
People like me—I grew up in a lower-middle-class, working family—I can say, fortunately, I didn’t suffer hunger or violence. I had opportunities, and not because we were privileged. We had just enough—for food and school. No extras, no trinkets, sometimes not even the movies. But I was lucky to grow up in a healthy environment and to be able to get an education.
I had the chance to choose. Many people don’t. This is rooted in deep pain, deep inequality, and marginalization. I pity the person who falls into the Mexican legal system as it stands now. And I can’t even imagine what’s coming.
Are you going to vote in the election?
Honestly, I’m not sure. It’s a hard decision. At first, I said, “I’m not getting involved in that mess.” I was going to abstain. But now I have doubts.
When very few vote, your one vote can make a difference—for better or worse. So I’m still wrestling with it. If I do vote, I do have an idea of who I’d support: I’d look for people who have judicial experience. That’s how I would make my choice. I definitely would not vote for the “Ministro Chicharrón!”
One of the first viral campaign videos was posted by a candidate for the Supreme Court, who described himself as “más preparado que un chicharrón.” (Screen capture)
I’ve noticed that more prominent lawyers just aren’t part of this election. They don’t want to get burned—it’s like entering a beauty pageant, right? Because you’d be in the spotlight, everyone watching, and now you need to make a TikTok video? Why bother? Better to keep doing your work behind a desk.
But I think voting is just one way of participating—there are different ways.
Creating a legal community, having more and more lawyers (and non-lawyers, and students) talk about these issues—that’s important. And continuing to engage like that is a valid form of participation. For those who can, serving as a polling station observer is really interesting too, just to see how people respond to the process, how many show up.
Has the campaign affected your cases so far?
Right now we’re dealing with an amparo, which is meant to immediately protect fundamental rights while the case is resolved. And we’ve had it delayed four times! So yeah, if we’re talking specifics—that’s already incredibly inefficient. Think about urgent family cases involving violence, or no child support.
Most people can’t afford to pay a lawyer every time there’s a hearing. So now they’ve lost a day of work, paid their lawyer, and the hearing gets postponed. They’ve already invested time and money. The law says they should have a ruling within 15 days, and they’ve been waiting six months. That kind of thing doesn’t just go away—it’s only going to get worse. And that’s really unacceptable.
The ones who’ll suffer the most are the people with the fewest resources. So what’s happening now? In the legal community, we’re already discussing alternatives for resolving disputes. Private mediation, court-based mediation, arbitration—where applicable.
People with the means—big companies like telecoms, transport—they’ll just designate their jurisdiction in another country. If I had a dispute with you, there’s no way I’d go to court in Mexico City. No way. Let’s go to Switzerland. Or maybe Miami. If you can afford to move your case to a foreign tribunal, why not? Meanwhile, people who can’t afford private mediation or foreign arbitration will be stuck.
And honestly, I’ve often pushed for settling out of court. Because people just don’t realize what they’re getting into. You start off thinking, “we’ve got this,” and six months later you're thinking, “How do I get out of this?”
I worry that being a guinea pig in the new Mexican judicial system will be terrifying—especially for the poor.
If you were trying to eliminate privilege, monopolies, and corruption with this reform, none of that is going to change. None of it.
Do you think Sheinbaum can handle the fallout from this election effectively?
I think her strategy has been to downplay the obvious and emphasize her predecessor’s achievements. It’s not that I doubt her capabilities. I think she’s an extremely intelligent woman.
Have you ever been in a conversation where you know what needs to be said but you can’t say it?Now imagine that on her level—knowing what needs to be done because she’s smart and logical, but being unable to say it. Unable to deviate from her predecessor. But Claudia’s legacy is still unwritten, and she knows it.
Sheinbaum made instructional videos to help voters navigate the multiple judicial election ballots. (Screen capture)
We also have the international community breathing down our necks, especially regarding security.
And even though, for a while, we might get away with saying, “Mexico is asserting its independence and doing what it needs to do, so don’t interfere—it concerns only us Mexicans,” at some point that argument becomes unsustainable. No nation can exist in a vacuum.
For example, our labor laws were recently changed. We used to have those awful conciliation and arbitration boards, which were a nightmare. The truth is, this change was huge and positive for Mexico.
But what triggered it? The USMCA free trade agreement. Canada and the U.S. told us: move to labor courts, Mexico. That was a wake-up call. Our trade relationships couldn’t be based on that flawed system.
So, what else will they eventually ask of us? Right now they have other priorities—other things to worry about—but eventuallythere’s going to be a wake-up call about our international trade relations. Because if I’m doing business with you, how can I trust the outcome when it depends on a Mexican judge appointed by a system that might lack experience—or worse, has conflicting interests?
So internally, we’re all just waiting to see what happens. As citizens, and for those in the judiciary—well, poor them too—they’re stuck with the same uncertainty. We may not have international precedent for this election, but we do have global examples of what happens when a system is forcibly upended. Is this chaos necessary to realign things?
I always try to give things an optimistic angle because I love my country deeply. And I don’t just consider myself an advocate for my country, but also for my hometown. I’m a fourth-generation local, and you learn to live here with a lot of kindness and empathy. People move more slowly here — it’s a small-town way of life.
So, in times this difficult, pushing issues that don’t address our country’s most urgent problems just feels like advancing a personal agenda. I’m not saying it wasn’t necessary—maybe it was—but not like this, and definitely not right now.
And honestly, I feel very frustrated because I used to believe that Mexico would become a global power in my lifetime. Everything pointed in that direction, little by little. Important changes were made in response to recommendations from the Inter-American Court of Human Rights regarding Mexico’s legal system.
And for me, it’s not just about being against everything. I was honestly pleasantly surprised by some of the things Claudia Sheinbaum has done recently in foreign policy. I didn’t vote for her, but closing the door to China, for example? That was a smart move.
We shouldn’t criticize just to criticize. As I said earlier, it’s essential to stay informed. We need to dig a little deeper. It’s okay to have opinions—but we have to study, look at the bigger picture. Don’t get married to one single idea.
When this reform passed, in some ways I was reminded of when we switched from a written system to a digital system. You should have seen the chaos, and the older lawyers resisted the most.
“How am I supposed to file this?” “What if the email doesn’t work?”
They had a problem for every solution. They held town halls across municipalities when the judiciary of Guanajuato decided to switch to electronic notifications. Today, you can still opt to receive physical ones, since some people don’t have internet access, but the default is electronic.
I remember one older lawyer standing up and yelling “I won’t do it!” and storming out of the room.
When that change happened, I was 21—fresh out of college. I didn’t hesitate. I thought, “Cool! I won’t have to go to the courthouse every time.” So I signed up right away—fifth one in the whole state.
It’s worked great ever since. Now, if you have internet and don’t have an e-mail notification box, you’re crazy. Some lawyers tried to delay trials saying, “I wasn’t notified properly,” just to drag things out.
Some chose not to adapt. Like that angry lawyer—he probably still doesn’t have an electronic mailbox. It’s a small example, but it shows how hard change is for people.
But once it’s done, like I said earlier: it’s already here. We have no choice but to make the best of it. Handle your cases with care and with purpose, so that new judges can rule according to the standards we need. That’s all we can do.
And sometimes that means finding creative solutions. Like putting mediation clauses in contracts—maybe that will reduce court loads and lower costs for everyone. Maybe people will say, “let’s resolve this ourselves.”
That doesn’t mean you’re suddenly in agreement. I still disagree. But I’ll adapt, to make the best of what’s possible.
Maybe you should run for office!
You know, the requirements are minimal! I looked them up right away, I wanted to read everything all at once.
My ex-boyfriend is a lawyer too—he even watches the Judicial Channel, with popcorn! He doesn’t miss a debate, he’s very studious. After the reform passed, he got pretty depressed, went quiet for a whole week. He said, “I just can’t talk about this right now.” We’d talked about it so much and then we came to this realization—how can we point fingers if we’ve also been part of the problem?
We’ve let ourselves down. And we’ve failed the system, too—sometimes even engaging in improper practices. I’m fortunate, because I’ve never been in a situation where I had to pay a bribe or was pressured to keep quiet in court.
But I did leave litigation, because I couldn’t stand my colleagues. It was insanely machista. The kind of comments—they were just off the charts. I once entered a hearing, before the judge and clerk came in, and the opposing counsel said to me, “Ay licenciada, you’d look better with a shorter skirt.”
So now, my work has the same value, just in a different niche. And when my colleagues ask for help with litigation strategy, I dive in.
I do know it’s up to us. We’re the ones here now. And we have to do the work—to leave better law behind. A generational legacy. The task is massive. But I hope all this gives us a reason to be excited about our work again.
Thank you for reading and feel free to send me your comments and questions at hola@themexpatriate.com. If you enjoyed this interview, please consider upgrading to a paid subscription below for full access to The Mexpatriate.
