The National Guard, Part Army, Part Police, All Confusion?

The recent approval by the Constitutional Points Commission of the Chamber of Deputies of a proposal to incorporate the National Guard into the Secretariat of National Defense (Sedena) marks a significant turning point in Mexico's ongoing struggle with crime and violence. This decision, which would effectively place the National Guard under military command, has sparked heated debate among lawmakers, security experts, and civil society organizations, raising concerns about the erosion of democratic institutions, the potential for human rights abuses, and the long-term implications for public safety.

The proposal, which would amend various articles of the Political Constitution, has been championed by the administration of President Andrés Manuel López Obrador as a necessary measure to combat the rampant crime and violence that has plagued Mexico for decades. The government argues that by militarizing the National Guard, it will be better equipped to tackle the complex challenges posed by organized crime, drug cartels, and other criminal elements.

However, critics of the proposal contend that it represents a dangerous step towards the militarization of public security, a trend that has been increasingly evident in recent years. They argue that placing the National Guard under military control will erode civilian oversight and accountability, making it more difficult to hold the force accountable for any abuses. Moreover, they warn that the militarization of public security could exacerbate tensions between the military and civilian populations, leading to further instability and conflict.

The decision to incorporate the National Guard into the Sedena is also likely to have significant implications for the country's democratic institutions. The Mexican Constitution has traditionally sought to limit the military's role in domestic affairs, recognizing the importance of civilian control over the security forces. By placing the National Guard under military command, the government is effectively circumventing these constitutional safeguards, raising concerns about the erosion of democratic norms and values.

Beyond the political and institutional implications, the militarization of the National Guard also raises questions about its effectiveness in combating crime. Some argue that a military-led force may not be well-suited to the tasks of community policing and crime prevention, which require a different approach and skill set than traditional military operations. Moreover, there is a risk that the militarization of the National Guard could lead to an increase in human rights abuses, as has been documented in other countries with similar policies.

From the Streets to the Barracks

Central to the reform is the provision granting Congress the authority to establish regulations and boundaries for the participation of the Army, Navy, and Air Force in internal security matters. This power aims to create a framework that balances military intervention with democratic oversight, ensuring that the Armed Forces do not overstep their bounds in civilian spheres.

Yet, this oversight is a delicate process. Lawmakers must navigate the thin line between empowering the military to combat organized crime and safeguarding against overreach that could infringe on civil liberties. Critics argue that without stringent checks, the expanded role of the military could lead to abuses of power, particularly in areas traditionally managed by civilian law enforcement.

A notable aspect of the reform is the enhanced role of the Senate and, in some cases, the Permanent Commission of the Congress of the Union in ratifying the appointments of senior National Guard chiefs proposed by the President. This requirement seeks to instill a level of accountability and scrutiny in the leadership of the National Guard, which, now more than ever, operates under a military chain of command.

This gatekeeping function, while seemingly bureaucratic, is crucial in ensuring that the leadership of this newly militarized force is subject to democratic controls. It provides a counterbalance to the executive’s power, preventing the unchecked appointment of military leaders who may prioritize martial values over civil rights.

Under the reform, the President retains the authority to deploy the Army, Navy, and Air Force in support of public security, as stipulated by law. This executive power underscores the government’s reliance on the military as a stabilizing force in a nation grappling with powerful drug cartels, systemic violence, and law enforcement corruption.

However, this expanded reach does not come without constraints. To maintain the spirit of a constitutional democracy, military courts are expressly prohibited from extending their jurisdiction to civilians, a safeguard meant to prevent abuses and ensure that military justice does not encroach upon civil rights. Additionally, in times of peace, military personnel cannot quarter in private homes without the owner’s consent, nor impose any service, echoing a long-standing principle against the militarization of civilian life.

An interesting stipulation of the reform is the requirement that presidential and congressional candidates must not be in active military service within a specified period before elections—six months for presidential candidates and 90 days for deputies. This rule seeks to preserve the separation between military and political spheres, preventing active-duty military personnel from wielding undue influence in the nation’s governance.

Another cornerstone of the reform is the prohibition of foreign nationals serving in the Armed Forces during peacetime. This measure aims to safeguard national sovereignty and ensure that the defense of Mexico remains firmly in the hands of its citizens. It also reflects a broader suspicion of external influence within the military, a sentiment rooted in historical experiences of intervention and conflict.

The law further outlines that the National Guard will operate under its own set of regulations, distinct from other military branches. Its organizational and management structure will be defined by legislation specific to its unique role within Mexico’s security landscape. This provision seeks to carve out a specialized identity for the National Guard, even as it becomes more tightly integrated into the military framework.

However, questions remain about how these distinct regulations will align with broader military norms and practices, and whether this new structure will adequately address the complexities of public security without compromising civil liberties.

New Titles, Old Rights

One of the most intriguing aspects of the new decree is the reclassification of military and naval personnel into the National Guard. In a bureaucratic exercise that feels almost ceremonial, the military and naval officers currently serving in the National Guard will be issued new patents or appointments that reflect their status within this reimagined force. While they will receive these new titles, complete with the appropriate seniority based on their existing ranks, they must also add a new specialty unique to the National Guard—a blending of military tradition with a newfound policing identity.

However, this bureaucratic magic trick comes with a promise: the rights that these personnel enjoyed in their original branches of the Armed Forces will remain intact. It’s a careful balancing act, reminiscent of an elaborate military parade where every step is calculated, every salute is measured. These officers will be dressed in new uniforms of the National Guard, but the heart of their service, their rights and privileges, will still beat with the rhythms of the Army and Navy.

Leadership within the National Guard is also undergoing a shake-up that feels part military promotion and part strategic chess game. The head of the National Guard must hold the rank of Major General, specifically trained and actively serving within the force. However, this poses a problem—there currently aren’t enough senior officers trained specifically within the National Guard to fill the role.

Until the National Guard’s ranks mature, this crucial position will instead be filled by a Major General from the Army, trained in public security. This stopgap measure blurs the line further between the traditional military and the Guard, placing seasoned military minds at the helm of what is ostensibly a policing force. It’s a temporary fix, but one that raises questions about the long-term identity and independence of the National Guard. Will the force ever truly shed its military roots, or is it destined to be led by generals with boots firmly planted in the Army?

Perhaps the most poignant twist of military reshuffling is the fate of personnel from the now-defunct Federal Police. Once Mexico’s primary law enforcement agency, the Federal Police have been systematically absorbed into the National Guard since its creation. Now, under the new decree, these officers are being formally phased out of the Guard and reassigned to the Secretariat of Public Security.

This reassignment comes with a critical caveat: their labor rights must be preserved. This concession appears to be a nod to the tumultuous history of the Federal Police, whose disbandment sparked fears of lost pensions, uncertain futures, and a deep sense of institutional abandonment. While some specialized agencies will maintain temporary roles within the National Guard under special collaboration agreements, the overall message is clear—the Federal Police are being sent back to their civilian policing roots, even if those roots have been pulled up and replanted in unfamiliar soil.

Behind every personnel shift and reclassification is the quiet, relentless hum of financial restructuring. As part of the National Guard’s absorption into SEDENA, the budgetary and financial resources earmarked for the last remnants of the Federal Police will also transfer to the military. This includes funds for salaries, operational expenses, and the maintenance of material resources essential to the Guard’s functioning.

However, this flow of money comes with strings attached. The funds required for the personnel that will remain under the Secretariat of Public Security’s purview are explicitly excluded from this transfer, creating a complex financial landscape that must be navigated with precision. In effect, as Federal Police positions become vacant, their corresponding budgetary resources must be funneled to SEDENA, an arrangement that resembles a slow financial siphoning from the Secretariat of Public Security to the military.

The careful choreography of these budgetary moves reflects the broader tug-of-war between military and civilian authorities over control, funding, and the future of public security. It’s a delicate balance—one that risks tipping too far into militarization at the expense of civilian oversight.

In this reorganization, naval personnel currently serving in the National Guard are also subject to the same reclassification as their Army counterparts. They will remain part of the Guard under the new hierarchical scale and reclassification system outlined in the decree. This continuity underscores the Guard’s hybrid nature, pulling from all branches of the military and reshaping them under a single banner.

However, this unity in reclassification does not erase the distinct identities of these officers, whose training, ethos, and operational styles remain colored by their naval origins. Whether this amalgamation will create a cohesive force or a patchwork of competing doctrines is a question that looms large over the National Guard’s future.

Military Discipline as the Key to Peace

Deputy Hamlet García Almaguer of Morena took to the floor with a tone of resolute optimism, casting his vote in favor of the reforms that would deepen the National Guard’s involvement in investigative tasks. For García Almaguer, this integration is more than just a policy shift—it’s a strategic move that he believes will significantly reduce crime rates. To him, the coordination between public ministries, police forces, and the National Guard represents the comprehensive approach needed to tackle Mexico’s complex security challenges. The reforms are not just about shuffling responsibilities but about building a collaborative security ecosystem that acts as a unified front against crime.

Deputy Ismael Brito Mazariegos, also of Morena, echoed this sentiment but with a broader call for national unity. He urged for a grand national agreement on public security, one that would reflect a rare moment of cohesion in the often fractured landscape of Mexican politics. With a touch of wistfulness, Brito Mazariegos pointed out that the Armed Forces enjoy significant trust among the citizens, suggesting that their enhanced role in the National Guard could “breathe the tranquility that we long for.” To him, this isn’t just about expanding military power—it’s about giving the people the peace they desperately crave.

From the PT parliamentary group, Deputy Gerardo Fernández Noroña added a dramatic flair to the discussion. With his characteristic firebrand style, Noroña passionately supported the reforms, arguing that a united State approach is crucial to overcoming Mexico’s public security challenges. He lamented the failure to pacify the country and stressed the need to press forward with the reforms to fulfill the government’s commitments to the Mexican people. For Noroña, it’s not just a policy—it’s a battle cry, a commitment to an “enormous challenge” that Mexico must confront together.

But not everyone is convinced that incorporating the National Guard into SEDENA is a step toward peace. Deputy Jorge Triana Tena of the PAN presented a staunch critique, positioning himself as a voice of caution against what he sees as an ongoing attempt to perfect the militarization of public security. Triana Tena’s argument was not about denying the Armed Forces a role in security; instead, he emphasized the need for that role to be clearly defined, exceptional, subordinate, complementary, regulated, and supervised. According to him, the current proposal falls short on all these fronts, dangerously blurring the lines between military and civilian spheres. His intervention is a sobering reminder that even in the face of security crises, the principles of oversight and accountability cannot be abandoned.

Deputy Rubén Ignacio Moreira Valdez of the PRI also expressed concerns, albeit with a broader perspective. Reflecting on Mexico’s security woes, Moreira Valdez lamented the lack of substantive dialogue on how the Chamber of Deputies can contribute to peace. He pointed out that Mexico has been mired in a severe security crisis for the past three six-year presidential terms and that this enduring issue requires thoughtful discussion and collective action, not hasty reforms. To Moreira Valdez, the incorporation of the National Guard into the military is a missed opportunity for deeper legislative engagement on security matters—a shameful oversight in his view.

Deputy Braulio López Ochoa Mijares of MC delivered a scathing critique that cut through the political rhetoric with historical reminders. He pointedly accused those in power of hypocrisy, noting that the very forces pushing for militarization today were once ardent opponents of it. López Ochoa Mijares reminded the chamber of the promises made to return the military to the barracks and to pacify the country, promises he argued are being blatantly broken. His words are not just an objection to policy but a stinging indictment of what he sees as the political opportunism and short-termism that define Mexico’s approach to security.

Strengthening Security or Surrendering to the Military?

The proponents of the reform argue that the incorporation of the National Guard into SEDENA is not only necessary but a logical progression in Mexico’s ongoing battle against crime. Deputy María Guadalupe Chavira de la Rosa of Morena opened the second round of participation by emphasizing the need for a comprehensive reform of the justice system, which she argues requires a strategic role for the military. For Chavira de la Rosa, professionalizing the National Guard and clearly defining the military’s function within it are essential steps toward eradicating impunity. She passionately urged her colleagues to “raise the sights” and extend a vote of confidence to these institutions, framing the reform as a vital tool to strengthen Mexico’s security apparatus.

Deputy Salvador Caro Cabrera, also from Morena, reinforced this position by pointing to the president-elect’s commitment to consolidating the National Guard as a key component of SEDENA. According to Caro Cabrera, the reform is not just about reshuffling responsibilities but about creating a cohesive force that can better guarantee public security and minimize corruption. It’s an argument steeped in pragmatism and political loyalty, casting the reform as a fulfillment of electoral promises and a cornerstone of the new administration’s vision for a safer Mexico.

Leonel Godoy Rangel, another Morena deputy, presented the reform as an opportunity to combat both general and organized crime through a new model that emphasizes discipline, professionalism, and a civil nature for public security institutions. Godoy Rangel sought to reassure skeptics by highlighting that the proposed changes would still maintain a civilian veneer, with the secretariat responsible for formulating national security strategies and policies. His argument positions the reform as a balancing act—one that leverages military discipline without fully surrendering to it, though this delicate tightrope walk is precisely what many opponents fear is a mirage.

On the other side of the debate, the opposition voices have been loud, clear, and unflinching in their critique of what they see as a dangerous overreach of military influence into civilian life. Deputy Paulina Rubio Fernández of PAN took a firm stance against the project, painting a stark picture of a Mexico where the Army is not just a protector but a ruler of public security. Rubio Fernández argued that the reform would effectively put the country at the perpetual service of the Army, creating an outsized concentration of power and resources—financial and human—under military control. With an eye on the 2024 budget, she noted that the National Guard’s integration into SEDENA would place 70 billion pesos under the Army’s command, a sum that she sees as both a fiscal and democratic risk.

Deputy Mario Alberto Rodríguez Carrillo from MC echoed these concerns with an added layer of critique focused on accountability. He pointed out the glaring absence of any serious evaluation of the National Guard’s performance under military command, a commitment made back in 2019 when the Guard was first established. For Rodríguez Carrillo, the lack of such assessments raises red flags about transparency and effectiveness. He further criticized the neglect of local police forces, which have not been adequately supported with budgets or training, leaving them ill-prepared to complement the National Guard’s efforts. His call for a civil authority to oversee public security is a direct challenge to the increasing military involvement, a reminder that the original vision for the National Guard was not one of complete military domination.

As the debate rages on, the specter of militarization looms large. For many deputies, the real question is not just about immediate security gains but about the long-term implications of allowing the Armed Forces to entrench themselves further into the daily life of the nation. The reform’s supporters argue that this military integration is a necessary evil, a realistic adaptation to the dire security situation that Mexico faces. They see the National Guard’s consolidation under SEDENA as a way to streamline efforts, reduce corruption, and bring the full weight of military discipline to bear on Mexico’s crime problems.

However, the opposition fears that this is a short-sighted solution with dangerous precedents. The idea of permanently entrusting public security to the military contradicts Mexico’s historical efforts to separate military and civilian spheres, particularly in times of peace. For critics like Rubio Fernández and Rodríguez Carrillo, the reform risks not just empowering the military but making it an unaccountable and politically powerful institution—one that could overshadow civilian government functions and erode democratic norms.

Small Changes, Big Implications

One of the most notable moments in the recent discussion was the acceptance of a reservation presented by Deputy Salvador Caro Cabrera of Morena, a move that added the phrase “of the three levels of government” to the eleventh paragraph of Article 21. On the surface, this might seem like an innocuous tweak, but in the arcane world of legislative amendments, this tiny addition has big implications. By explicitly including “the three levels of government”—federal, state, and municipal—the modification aims to tighten the coordination between the Public Ministry and police institutions, including the newly integrated National Guard, in their collective pursuit of public security.

This change is more than just a bureaucratic clarification; it’s a strategic nod to the reality of Mexico’s fragmented security apparatus. By mandating coordination across all levels of government, the amendment seeks to unify a historically disjointed system where local, state, and federal forces often operate in silos—sometimes at cross purposes. The intended outcome? A cohesive National Public Security System that can finally act as a united front against the myriad security challenges facing the country.

Meanwhile, in what may appear to be a battle of semantics, the deputies also voted to modify the third paragraph of Article 32 of the Political Constitution, changing the term from “Permanent Armed Forces” to, well, “Permanent Armed Forces.” Confused? You’re not alone. This peculiar episode highlights how sometimes, even the smallest editorial adjustments can stir debate, revealing the meticulous—and occasionally baffling—nature of legislative reform. While this particular change seems more stylistic than substantive, it reflects the ongoing efforts to refine the language of Mexico’s foundational legal texts, ensuring that they are not only legally sound but also linguistically precise.

As the discussions rolled on, a rare moment of bipartisan unity emerged, albeit fleetingly. Deputies Flor Ivone Morales Miranda and Marcos Rosendo Medina Filigrana, both from Morena, along with Rubén Ignacio Moreira Valdez from the PRI, voiced their support for Caro Cabrera’s reservation. This surprising alignment between the traditionally opposing Morena and PRI camps underscored the shared recognition of the need for more cohesive security policies. Yet, as with all things in politics, harmony was short-lived.

On the opposing side, deputies Braulio López Ochoa Mijares (MC), Jorge Triana Tena, and Miguel Humberto Rodarte De Lara (both from PAN) were less enthused by the proposed changes, viewing them as further steps toward centralizing power under the military umbrella. Their objections reflect a broader concern about the creeping militarization of public security, a fear that the reform’s language—however benign it may seem—could be paving the way for a deeper, more entrenched military presence in civilian life.

If the accepted amendments weren’t enough to fuel the debate, the session also saw a flood of 21 reservations brought forth by deputies from various parties—eight from the Citizen’s Movement (MC), seven from the PRI, and six from the PAN. The sheer volume of these reservations signals the intense scrutiny that the reform has come under, with each proposed change representing a distinct critique or alternative vision for the role of the National Guard.

The deputies behind these reservations read like a who’s who of the Chamber’s vocal dissenters: Mario Alberto Rodríguez Carrillo and Braulio López Ochoa Mijares from MC, Alma Carolina Viggiano Austria, Eduardo Zarzosa Sánchez, Laura Lorena Haro Ramírez, Marco Antonio Mendoza Bustamante, and Cynthia Iliana López Castro from the PRI, and Miguel Humberto Rodarte De Lara, René Figueroa Reyes, and Héctor Saúl Téllez Hernández from PAN. Yet despite the detailed and impassioned arguments presented, all of these reservations were ultimately rejected, highlighting the firm resolve of the majority to push forward with the current trajectory of the reform.

More than a Debate, a Spectacle

Beyond the technicalities of articles and amendments, the ongoing debate has revealed itself to be as much about political positioning as it is about public security. For Morena and its allies, the push to incorporate the National Guard into SEDENA is framed as a necessary step toward a stronger, more unified response to Mexico’s security woes. For the opposition, however, it is seen as an alarming drift toward military control, one that raises profound questions about civil liberties, democratic oversight, and the long-term role of the Armed Forces in public life.

The reservations and their rejections serve as microcosms of these broader ideological battles. Each proposed change is not just a line of legal text but a statement of values, a reflection of the deep-seated fears and hopes that lawmakers hold for the future of Mexico. For the reform’s critics, these reservations are desperate attempts to claw back some measure of civilian oversight in a process that they believe is rapidly slipping out of the hands of democratically elected institutions. For its proponents, these same reservations are seen as unnecessary obstacles, distractions from the urgent task of securing the nation.

As the Chamber of Deputies continues to navigate reform process, one thing is abundantly clear: the debate over the National Guard’s place within Mexico’s security framework is far from settled. The incorporation into SEDENA, with all its amendments and reservations, represents a tipping point in the nation’s approach to public security—one that will have far-reaching consequences for how Mexico confronts crime, manages its military, and defines the boundaries between civilian and military power.

Whether this integration ultimately strengthens Mexico’s fight against crime or sets it on a path toward unchecked militarization remains a question that will be answered not in the Chamber of Deputies, but in the streets, courtrooms, and daily lives of the Mexican people. In the meantime, the legislative battles will continue, with each reservation, each amendment, and each impassioned speech adding to the rich tapestry of Mexico’s ongoing struggle to balance security and democracy.