This Sunday, there will be elections for judges, magistrates, and justices. As two former presidents of the IFE/INE and many colleagues have already written, it will not be a democratic election. That is why this column believes one should not go out and vote. This recommendation draws two types of criticism: from lawyers who believe we should all defend those who are losing their careers in the judiciary (and they have a point), and from those who are not convinced that democracy no longer exists in Mexico.
The second criticism stems from a confusion of terms. Most people, when they talk about democracy, are referring to a specific case: liberal democracy. This political system combines two distinct traditions: access to power through voting (democracy) and the assertion that all human beings have equal dignity (human rights), which is expressed through a set of rules applied to all (rule of law). This combination is not the only possible one. Over the past ten years, illiberal democracy has grown globally—a system that eliminates the second tradition, turning democracy into a plebiscitary mechanism. This type of democracy is what the ancients disparaged, seeing it as a flawed version of “rule by the many,” ending in demagoguery and tyranny.
Yascha Mounk thoroughly analyzes this contemporary conflict between democracy and liberalism in The People vs. Democracy, and a few weeks ago, Ezra Shabot referred to the Mexican case. Indeed, Mexico has ceased to be a liberal democracy since 2024, although there were earlier signs. In last year’s elections, the rules did not apply to everyone, and the president intervened—with statements, actions, and government resources—to guarantee the victory of his chosen candidate. As if that weren’t enough, he then proceeded to alter the results, with the endorsement of the Electoral Tribunal, to give his coalition a qualified majority it did not win at the ballot box. I’ve called this a coup d’état, because it fits the definition: obtaining power through illegal means.
With that illegally obtained power, the Constitution was amended to eliminate all remaining checks and balances: autonomous institutions, and especially the judiciary. That’s what Sunday’s election is about, and that’s why I find it inconceivable to legitimize the coup by going to the polls.
In the book mentioned above, Mounk contrasts illiberal democracy (like Orbán’s in Hungary) with non-democratic liberalism (which he associates with the European Union). While the former follows the path that 4th-century BCE Greeks already foresaw—toward a demagogue’s tyranny—the latter leads to the dictatorship of technocrats. An interesting case might be Trump: a demagogue accompanied by a group that, like technocrats, sees itself as superior to others and tries to impose its worldview—the technobros, incels (involuntary celibates), and other “enlightened” types.
In Mexico, López Obrador built his career opposing the rule of law and, consequently, human rights. The appointment of Rosario Piedra to the CNDH (National Human Rights Commission) is the best example. His goal was to destroy the reign of law (“don’t give me that ‘the law is the law’”). He succeeded—and Sunday marks a turning point.
Without rule of law, without rules, only force remains. The state of nature, where, as Hobbes said, life is “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” This is already true in several states, and like dampness, the stain spreads day by day.
The madman followed this path thinking he would gain the monopoly on violence.
He didn’t.