And meanwhile, Mexico remains like a gaslighted girlfriend...
Mexico has a toxic relationship with Donald Trump. Not with the United States, but with the man who embodies the threat, the warning, the imposition, and the withdrawal—all in a single breath. A man who insults you one day and coddles you the next, who spits in your face and then offers you a handkerchief.
The United States has always looked after its own interests. Mexico has been called, not long ago, America’s backyard. There is a long-standing relationship of submission with our northern neighbor. No matter how much we raise our voices or sharpen our rhetorical weapons, we cannot deny that our commercial partner is one of the most powerful countries in the world.
The Mexican government should be wary of the hidden interests of the American government. If you are not familiar with the Green Plan, I will summarize it for you. The United States once planned to invade Mexico over an oil-related issue (1925-1926). In a sort of real-life action movie, the Mexican government sought to infiltrate elements of the Presidential General Staff into the U.S. embassy. One of them managed to seduce the wife of the military attaché, steal and copy documents proving the economic interests of Rockwell Sheffield and Frank B. Kellogg—U.S. ambassador to Mexico and Secretary of State, respectively. They were business partners with oil companies and did not want Article 27 to be regulated, as it established that the subsoil belonged to the Mexican state, including its oil.
The reason behind that failed invasion? To protect American oil companies’ interests. The scandal? That high-ranking U.S. politicians were shareholders in those companies. They wanted to invade Mexico for their own personal gain. Money makes the world go round, as they say. This little-known incident was an act of counterintelligence that prevented an invasion. The Mexican diplomatic corps took the documents to then-President Calvin Coolidge, proving that if the U.S. invaded Mexico, the international community would see it not as a matter of national interest but as a commercial scheme benefiting top officials. The mission was led by the head of the General Staff, José Álvarez y Álvarez de la Cadena—my grandfather. End of the parenthesis.
The U.S. president is once again on the offensive with his rhetoric of domination—the kind where his voice is the only one that matters, and his will the only one that prevails. In his recent speech before Congress, Trump made no effort to hide his disdain, claiming that Mexico is “dominated by organized crime,” as if he, his country, and its agencies had nothing to do with the war bleeding our streets dry. As if the largest drug market weren’t just across the Rio Grande. But the most grotesque part wasn’t the accusation itself—it was the implicit mockery in his supposed gift: 29 drug traffickers handed over by Mexico so he could feel happy. As if international cooperation were an act of submission, as if diplomacy had to become a gladiator spectacle where he is the Caesar, deciding who lives and who dies.
Trump doesn’t negotiate—he imposes. His relationship with Mexico is not that of trade partners but of master and vassal. And if anyone has doubts, just look at how he plays with economic threats. He wields tariffs like a cruel child playing with a magnifying glass and a line of ants. He imposes them, withdraws them, reimposes them. One month yes, the next month no. He claims to respect the Free Trade Agreement, but he uses it as a bargaining chip—a stick to beat with and a carrot to deceive with.
He did the same with Zelensky when he conditioned military aid on political favors. That’s his style: blackmail, humiliation, displays of power. He doesn’t negotiate; he dictates. And if things don’t go his way, he punishes with tariffs, insults, and military threats at the border. Is that a strategy or a mental disorder? Is there calculation in his volatility, or is he simply incapable of maintaining a stance beyond his own reflection in the mirror?
The problem for Mexico is that, like it or not, the United States is our main trading partner. But how do you do business with someone who sells you the rope one day and puts it around your neck the next? How do you trust a country where the next president can change the rules of the game on a whim? And most importantly, who ultimately pays the price for this toxic relationship?
Tariffs aren’t paid by governments—they’re paid by ordinary citizens. The ones who buy, the ones who consume, the ones who suddenly find that milk, cars, or medicine are more expensive because Trump decided to punish Mexico. Trade wars aren’t fought by the powerful—they are suffered by the people at the bottom. As always.
And meanwhile, Mexico remains like a gaslighted girlfriend—excuse the stereotype, but with today’s trends of the psychopathic narcissist and the submissive partner, it’s fitting. Because that’s our relationship with the uncomfortable neighbor. A neighbor we must handle with tweezers—although sometimes it seems like what we really need is a baseball bat.
Mexico’s president, Claudia Sheinbaum Pardo, has had to mutate into some kind of heroine with nerves of steel and an unbreakable mind. Imagine yourself dealing with a Trump. Apply it to your daily life. Your spirit and diplomatic patience would likely vanish by the second day.
Is this what awaits us for nearly four more years?
Perhaps it’s time to start consuming only Mexican-made products and boosting the local economy, just as President Donald Trump intends to do with American companies.
A topic for another reflection.
Until next time.