By Redaccion
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Culiacán, the capital of Sinaloa state and long known as the heartland of Mexico’s powerful Sinaloa cartel, is grappling with an unprecedented wave of violence that has disrupted everyday life.
A factional war within the cartel has brought a new level of fear, turning cellphones into death warrants and forcing residents to avoid public spaces, travel, and even simple outings.
The ongoing conflict, which erupted in early September, has left locals trapped in a climate of suspicion and danger. Gunmen affiliated with rival factions have taken to stopping individuals on the street or pulling them from their vehicles to inspect their phones. A single chat, photo, or contact linked to the wrong faction can be enough to seal the victim’s fate—and potentially doom others connected through their phone’s contact list.
“You can’t even leave the city safely”
Culiacán residents, including veteran journalist Ismael Bojórquez, describe a worsening situation. “You can’t go five minutes out of the city, not even in daylight,” he said, explaining how roadblocks set up by cartel gunmen stop drivers to inspect phones.
In one tragic incident, the son of a local photographer was detained alongside two other young men. A suspicious message on one of their phones led to the group being kidnapped. While the photographer’s son was eventually released, the other two remain missing, presumed dead. This type of violence has become common, turning every outing into a potentially deadly risk.
A Cartel Divided
The recent spike in violence traces back to the capture of cartel leaders Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada and Joaquín Guzmán López, son of the infamous drug lord Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán. Their apprehension, which took place in the United States in July, triggered infighting between two powerful factions: Zambada’s supporters and the “Chapitos,” led by Guzmán López’s brothers.
The violence reached a boiling point on September 9, unleashing a month-long surge of killings, kidnappings, and carjackings in Culiacán and surrounding areas.
Residents are nostalgic for a time when the cartel’s influence, though pervasive, rarely targeted civilians. “The cartel kept things running,” said one local, “and you only had to worry if you cut off the wrong car.” Now, ordinary citizens are frequent victims as rival factions shift to new tactics, including mass carjackings and kidnappings.
Carjacking Surge Fuels Violence
Carjackings have become a critical tool in the ongoing cartel conflict. While the gunmen previously targeted SUVs and pickups for use in convoys, they now favor smaller sedans to avoid detection. Victims often realize they’ve been targeted only when a vehicle in front of them scatters bent nails across the road to puncture their tires. Moments later, armed men force the driver into another vehicle, leaving the abandoned car in the street with doors open and the engine still running.
The State Council on Public Safety, a civic organization monitoring the violence, reports that Culiacán has averaged six killings and seven kidnappings per day over the past month. More than 200 families have fled rural communities on the city’s outskirts, seeking refuge from the escalating conflict.
Old Tactics, New Fear
Culiacán is no stranger to cartel violence. In October 2019, the city erupted in gunfire after soldiers unsuccessfully tried to arrest another son of El Chapo, Ovidio Guzmán. Fourteen people died that day, and the failed operation remains a stark reminder of the cartel’s dominance. However, the current wave of violence is unlike anything the city has seen before, eroding trust in local authorities and changing how people live.
Estefanía López, a civic activist, recalls how a peace march she organized in 2019 attracted 4,000 participants. “This year, only 1,500 people showed up,” she said. “Many were too afraid to join.”
The fear is well-founded. In recent weeks, gunmen stormed a hospital in Culiacán to kill a patient who had previously survived an attempt on his life. Elsewhere, military helicopters exchanged gunfire with cartel members dressed in tactical gear just yards from a busy highway.
Government Response: Blame and Denial
President Claudia Sheinbaum has attributed the surge in violence to the July capture of Zambada and Guzmán López, accusing the United States of triggering the chaos by facilitating their arrests. “Sinaloa practically didn’t have homicides before this,” Sheinbaum claimed, though cartel-related killings have been a persistent issue for years. Her comments reflect a long-standing government strategy of tolerating cartel control as long as it stays out of the spotlight.
In response to the recent violence, the government has deployed hundreds of troops to Culiacán. However, urban combat against well-armed cartel members—equipped with .50-caliber rifles and machine guns—poses a challenge for the military. Soldiers conducting operations in the city have already made mistakes, such as killing an innocent bystander while trying to apprehend a suspect.
Police presence offers little reassurance, as Culiacán’s entire municipal police force has been temporarily disarmed by the army amid suspicions that officers are working for the cartels.
Economic Fallout and Isolation
The violence has devastated Culiacán’s economy, forcing many businesses to shut down. According to Laura Guzmán, head of the local restaurant chamber, approximately 180 establishments have closed since September 9, and nearly 2,000 jobs have been lost. Efforts to encourage social activities, such as organizing “tardeadas” to attract customers during the day, have largely failed.
“Young people are not interested in going out right now,” Guzmán said.
For those seeking to escape the violence, the popular seaside resort of Mazatlán was once a convenient getaway. However, even that option is no longer viable. Last month, cartel gunmen hijacked buses on the road to Mazatlán, forcing passengers off before setting the vehicles on fire to block the highway.
Now, only wealthier residents can afford to flee the city, booking flights to safer destinations. “Those with the resources leave by airplane to take a break,” Guzmán said.
With no clear end to the violence in sight, residents of Culiacán are left navigating a new reality where fear governs every aspect of life—from work and school to social activities. As one local summed up grimly, “In Culiacán, there is not even faith anymore that we will be safe, with police or soldiers.”
