Executive Aggrandizement and Hyper-Personalization of Political Power

A central threat to Mexican democracy, as identified by ^{Monsiváis-Carrillo (2022 b: 436)} , lies in “the desire of the head of the Executive Branch to serve as the ultimate authority for political decision-making and popular representation”. The aggrandizement of the Executive Branch is one of the most common forms of democratic erosion, especially in presidential systems ^{(Bermeo, 2016}; ^{Laebens and Lührmann, 2021)} . According to ^{Aguilar Rivera (2022)} , this gradual and progressive concentration of power systematically weakens checks and balances and limits the ability of organized social groups to challenge government actions. In other words, it entails the dismantling of institutional controls that, under normal conditions, should ensure the Executive Branch exercises power impartially and transparently ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b)}.

AMLO has a long trajectory as a caudillo-style, populist politician, whose discourse has consistently included messianic and redemptive elements ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022b}, ^2022a). He grounded the legitimacy of his government not only in alleged performance but above all in his personal authority and ideology ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022b)}. As ^{Monsiváis Carrillo (2023b: 115)} argues, AMLO’s administration was marked by a hegemonic ambition defined by “a deliberate strategy of centralizing power, in which the separation of powers and... institutional checks and balances are subordinated to or controlled by the Executive Branch”. This ambition was rooted in AMLO’s personalist and populist leadership, his affinity for the presidential style of the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI)—where he began his political career—and the broad electoral margin by which he won the 2018 election.

In this context, the administration framed AMLO as “the sole and exclusive representative of popular sovereignty” ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b: 117)} . Drawing on ^{Rhodes-Purdy and Madrid (2020)} , ^{Monsiváis-Carrillo (2022a)} argues that AMLO’s administration constituted a personalist dyad: a government led by a personalist, populist president backed by a political party that was poorly institutionalized, dependent on him, and gave him unconditional legislative support. I return to this later.

Under the pretext of dismantling the legacy of the so-called “neoliberal order”, AMLO centralized decision-making and, as I will discuss later, used budgetary control as a tool of political discipline. According to the presidential narrative, only a strong leader capable of controlling the entire government apparatus could root out corruption by leading through example ^{(Sánchez-Talanquer, 2020)} . ^{Petersen and Somuano (2021)} analyze this centralization through AMLO’s interactions with two autonomous institutions: the National Electoral Institute (INE) and the National Institute for Transparency, Access to Information, and Protection of Personal Data (INAI). They conclude that AMLO’s administration fostered a form of hyper-presidentialism that expanded the president’s informal powers. This aligns with ^{Monsiváis-Carrillo’s (2022 a)} argument that AMLO’s government aimed at exercising political power discretionally and without effective checks and balances.

Beyond the governmental concentration of power, several scholars emphasize AMLO’s political relationship with Morena, the party he founded and through which he became president.^{2 Monsiváis-Carrillo (2022b: 423)} describes it as a “poorly institutionalized party dependent on its founding leader”, with a structure and decision-making process that consistently align with AMLO’s interests (^{see also Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022a)}. According to ^{Petersen and Somuano (2021)} , the party likely remains weakly institutionalized because AMLO deliberately prevented it from developing internal counterweights, thereby retaining control over its decisions. Alternatively, they suggest that Morena’s leadership simply lacked the capacity to coordinate party discipline independently. In either case, ^{Sánchez-Talanquer and Greene (2021)} argue that AMLO showed no interest in building a party with institutional strength capable of constraining his power. This political dynamic is especially important because, as ^{Rhodes-Purdy and Madrid (2020)} note, leaders who emerge from and dominate weak parties are more likely to adopt policies that erode accountability and horizontal checks on executive authority.

Populist and Polarizing Rhetoric

From an ideational perspective, populism is a morally Manichean worldview that frames politics as a struggle between good and evil, personified respectively by “the people” and “the elites” ^{(Hawkins and Rovira Kaltwasser, 2017a} , ^2017b). Populism is not inherently anti-democratic, but the limitations imposed by its Manichean vision can generate anti-democratic consequences. As ^{Monsiváis-Carrillo (2023 d: 21)} explains, “the populist notion that the government must be consistent with the will of the ‘people’ implies assuming that only a political order in which the ‘people’ govern unrestrictedly can be legitimate”, which means that any social group not included in this abstraction of “the people” can be ignored in governmental decision-making. Thus, populism can favor the erosion of democracy because it adapts to the practices and discourses of those who seek to concentrate political power and present themselves as supreme and unrestricted authorities who can ignore the formalities and procedures of pluralism ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022a, 2023d, 2023c)}.

Populism’s binary division of reality can also lead to forms of polarization that are potentially dangerous for democracy. Polarization is the process by which communities are divided into extremes due to political, ideological, or identity-based reasons ^{(Haggard and Kaufman, 2021)} and has been one of the main tools of actors with autocratic objectives ^{(Somer et al., 2021)} . Pernicious polarization —that is, polarization rooted in mutual distrust between political identities— can fuel democratic erosion by creating a context in which undemocratic measures are justified against opposing groups perceived as threats to the country ^{(Somer et al., 2021)}.

AMLO consistently sought to shape public opinion through a Manichean populist lens that divided the political field between his supporters and so-called “adversaries” ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023 b)} . He positioned himself as an “honest” leader serving the “people”, endowed with superior moral values that set him apart from his opponents ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022b)}. Furthermore, Dussauge-^{Laguna (2021)} points out that AMLO’s populist rhetoric was marked by a discourse of double standards. For example, while his political agenda was framed in leftist terms, its implementation often relied on mechanisms more commonly associated with the right;³ centralization of decision-making was justified as a means to combat inefficiency and corruption, but it simultaneously weakened institutional autonomy; and austerity was promoted as a guiding principle, yet flagship presidential projects received unrestricted funding. The material consequences of this populist doublespeak were significant: institutions were marginalized and later staffed with allies loyal to the president; checks and balances, along with autonomous organizations, were delegitimized as anti-democratic; public resources were allocated discretionally to advance presidential priorities; bureaucratic capacity was further eroded; loyalty was rewarded with high-level appointments; and administrative norms and legal procedures were frequently disregarded ^{(Dussauge-Laguna, 2021)} .

Through statistical analysis, ^{Monsiváis-Carrillo (2022 b)} finds that political polarization intensified over the course of AMLO’s presidency. Furthermore, ^{Sánchez-Talanquer and Greene (2021: 60)} argue that AMLO was able to increase his supporters’ “tolerance for his democratic transgressions through the skillful use of populist rhetoric”, portraying himself as the embodiment of the fight against corrupt elites. Moreover, as is the case with other populist rulers whose results have not been positive, AMLO and his party were able to maintain electoral successes by presenting themselves, as if they were still in the opposition, in a “permanent campaign” against the elites that prevented them from governing ^{(Sánchez-Talanquer and Greene, 2021: 67)}.

Disinformation Strategies and the Rejection of Public Deliberation

The liberal model of democracy emphasizes the electoral and partisan dimensions of the political system. However, democratic decisions are not considered legitimate solely because they enjoy majority support, but because they emerge from deliberative processes in which individual and collective actors freely exchange arguments and opinions ^{(Della Porta, 2020)} . Ideally, democratic governments engage in evidence-based discussions grounded in public interest. When they abandon these deliberative dimensions, they risk sliding toward autocratization. Moreover, disinformation and misinformation degrade the quality of political discourse by undermining the role of factual evidence and truth standards ^{(Haggard and Kaufman, 2021)} .

AMLO and his administration systematically disseminated “false, distorted, or misleading information with the intention of causing harm” ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023c: 154)} . A key example was his repeated attacks on the National Electoral Institute (INE), which he accused —without evidence— of electoral fraud and of being one of the most expensive electoral authorities in the world. These accusations formed part of a broader effort to delegitimize the INE to justify its reform ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023c)}. I return to this point later. Similar patterns of contradictory and false information were evident in the government’s response to the Covid-19 pandemic ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b)}.

The administration’s communication centered on AMLO’s weekday morning press conferences. These events became platforms from which the president disseminated biased and misleading information, attacked critics and opponents, issued instructions to his cabinet and supporters, and dismissed dissenting voices —frequently slandering them without allowing rebuttals— ^{(Dussauge Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo, 2021}; ^{Sánchez-Talanquer, 2020)} .

When a president resorts to polarization, falsehoods, and the systematic discrediting of interlocutors, the space for public deliberation is drastically reduced ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b)}. AMLO rarely supported his opinions with reasoned arguments. When others pointed out contradictions or inconsistencies in his positions, he often responded by attacking them, labeling independent media and critics as “conservatives” or “neoliberals” who ignored the “other data” he claimed to possess, always asserting that they were part of a broader conspiracy orchestrated by conservative elites ^{(Dussauge Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo, 2021}; ^{Sánchez-Talanquer and Greene, 2021)} . Several studies also document AMLO’s antagonistic relationship with civil society organizations, which he routinely dismissed as “useless” and “corrupt” ^{(Petersen and Somuano, 2021)} , and which he attacked with a litany of insults and slanders ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022a)}.

When governments routinely attack or censor the media, they undermine the freedom of expression that is essential to democratic life ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022b)}. Likewise, disparaging civil society organizations contradicts democratic principles, as it can dissuade social participation and encourage hostility toward government critics (^{Ibarra del Cueto, 2023}; ^{Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022b)}. By delegitimizing all critical actors —regardless of their arguments— AMLO effectively eliminated the possibility of meaningful dialogue. Everything he stated was framed as a “de facto truth” ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b: 119)}. In sum, under AMLO’s administration, the willingness of political authorities to engage with counterarguments diminished, and the trend of presidential intolerance —already observable in prior administrations— intensified ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022b)}.

Attacks on Institutions, Austerity and Cooptation

In addition to the traditional separation of powers, Mexico’s political regime includes autonomous institutions tasked with overseeing the exercise of governmental authority, making a full return to the hyper-presidential model of the 20th century more difficult ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b)} . Nonetheless, in tandem with his attacks on critical sectors of civil society, AMLO persistently targeted other branches of government —particularly the Judiciary and its highest authority, the Supreme Court of Justice of the Nation (SCJN)— as well as autonomous decentralized institutions, notably the INAI and the INE. I will focus only on the latter. Beyond discrediting these institutions rhetorically, the president sought to exert control over them through austerity measures and co-optation strategies.

^{Ríos Figueroa (2022)} notes that leaders who drive democratic erosion often prioritize capturing the judiciary early in their tenure. AMLO was no exception. He employed various strategies to “politically intervene and subordinate” federal and state courts ^{(Ríos Figueroa, 2022: 190)} to serve his political interests ^{(Sánchez-Talanquer and Greene, 2021)} . From ^{Ríos Figueroa’s (2022)} perspective, AMLO’s government succeeded in influencing the SCJN to some degree, as the court issued controversial rulings favoring his agenda. ^{Monsiváis-Carrillo’s (2022 b)} data further suggests a decline in judicial independence since 2018.

^{Villanueva Ulfgard (2023)} identifies five key episodes that illustrate the pressure AMLO exerted on the SCJN: the extension of the term of the then-president of the court (who later joined the campaign of Morena’s presidential candidate Claudia Sheinbaum in late 2023 and secured a role in her administration), the debate on energy reform, the referendum to criminally investigate former presidents, the recall referendum, and the attempted electoral reform. The first case demonstrated AMLO’s desire to shape the Court through loyalist appointments; the second highlighted the pressure placed on justices nominated by his administration; the third exposed the Court’s vulnerability in defending constitutional order; and the last two episodes underscored the executive’s ongoing attacks on electoral institutions, particularly the INE ^{(Villanueva Ulfgard, 2023)}.

^{Ibarra del Cueto (2023)} adds that, in 2022, AMLO sought congressional approval for two major constitutional reforms, one concerning energy policy and the other targeting the electoral system. Though both initiatives ultimately failed, the president and his party engaged in harassment, public discrediting, and intimidation of members of the legislative and judicial branches, thereby undermining the principle of separation of powers.

Regarding autonomous institutions, the INE faced relentless verbal attacks, baseless fraud allegations, and budget cuts justified by unsubstantiated claims of excessive costs ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023c} ; ^{Sánchez-Talanquer, 2020)} . Beyond rhetorical attacks, AMLO attempted to transfer the INE’s functions to the Executive Branch. This involved proposed constitutional amendments and secondary legislation designed to reshape the institute’s structure and operation. These reforms, if implemented, would have undermined equal electoral competition, compromised the independence of electoral administration and justice, and dismantled the professional civil service that underpins the INE’s credibility ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023c}; ^{Villanueva Ulfgard, 2023)} .

Although his constitutional reform initiatives failed in Congress, AMLO openly called on voters to deny “a single vote” to the “conservatives” in the 2024 elections in order to secure the legislative supermajority needed to amend the Constitution during the next presidential term. However, his plan “also progressed in the General Council of the INE, with the appointment of at least two of the four new advisory members aligned with” the president’s party, including the Council’s president ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023 c: 174)} . I will revisit this institutional co-optation later. The attacks on and attempted reforms to the INE stand out in the literature because they sought to tilt the electoral playing field in favor of the president’s party, ensuring its hegemony and enabling direct government control over elections ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022b, 2023c}; ^{Sánchez-Talanquer, 2020)} .

AMLO refused to acknowledge the technical role of autonomous institutions, instead viewing them as obstacles that restricted the Executive Branch’s power while wasting public resources and protecting political and economic interests ^{(Petersen and Somuano, 2021)} . From this perspective —and under the guise of so-called “republican austerity”— he argued that their budgets should be slashed to a minimum. Notably, this austerity policy was not guided by efficiency criteria or grounded in evaluative data; rather, it stemmed solely from presidential will ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023 c)} .

^{Sánchez-Talanquer (2020)} identifies two key manifestations of AMLO’s commitment to “poor government”: First, drastic cuts across all state sectors and services, though, as Dussauge-^{Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo (2021: 151)} note, “significant cuts affected health, culture, the environment, human rights, science, and technology, while budgets for energy and the military grew substantially”. Second, budgetary control was centralized as a disciplinary tool. In this vein, ^{Sánchez-Talanquer and Greene (2021)} argue that AMLO wielded the federal budget to reward loyalty and punish dissent. They cite the dissolution of numerous trust funds —including those designated for disaster relief, higher education, scientific research, the arts, and the protection of human rights defenders— so that the president could reallocate these resources at his discretion to support his flagship initiatives. ^{Ibarra del Cueto (2023)} similarly underscores how, when unable to fully reform or control autonomous institutions, AMLO retaliated by imposing severe budget cuts and appointing loyalists to key positions.

Regarding appointments, AMLO’s administration relied on patronage networks, prioritizing loyalty over competence ^{(Dussauge-Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo, 2021}; ^{Sánchez-Talanquer and Greene, 2021)} . A prominent example in the literature is the appointment of the head of the National Human Rights Commission, a former Morena party member selected through an irregular legislative process ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b} ; ^{Sánchez-Talanquer and Greene, 2021)}. Simultaneously, the president incorporated party activists into the public administration to allocate, often without transparency or clear criteria, social program benefits ^{(Dussauge-Laguna, 2021}; ^{Sánchez-Talanquer, 2020)}.⁴ Moreover, AMLO’s anti-corruption discourse functioned less as a tool for strengthening institutional integrity and more as a mechanism to delegitimize critics and neutralize counterweights. Corruption within the administration was often justified, downplayed, or ignored when it involved officials aligned with the president’s project or party ^{(Sánchez-Talanquer and Greene, 2021)}.

Weakening of Public Administration and Policy Processes

AMLO repeatedly and openly opposed implementing regulations or programs that he considered associated with the “neoliberal period” ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022 b)} . This, coupled with the justification of “republican austerity,” led the president to significantly reduce the capacities of the federal public administration, particularly through the disappearance of social institutions and programs ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b)}. The most notable case in this regard is the elimination of Seguro Popular (Popular Insurance), which was replaced by the Institute of Health for Well-being (Insabi, in Spanish). This institution would also disappear later in his six-year term. This case, ^{Petersen and Somuano (2021)} point out, reflects how AMLO eliminated or dismantled institutions linked to the “neoliberal period” without ensuring the construction of others to efficiently replace them.

Dussauge-^{Laguna (2021)} argues that AMLO’s decisions were characterized by a lack of diagnostic studies or evidence to suggest that the proposed changes were useful or even appropriate. For example, the same author argues that the narrative about austerity was never accompanied by an explanation of how salary cuts in various areas of the administration would improve the government performance, nor was there any analysis offered of the ineffectiveness or corruption of the institutions and programs he decided to eliminate.⁵ In contrast, the distribution of resources responded to the need to obtain more funds for the president’s personal priorities ^{(Dussauge-Laguna, 2021)} .⁶

In the fight against poverty, AMLO increased the nominal value of direct transfers to several economically disadvantaged sectors, but —in addition to the almost absolute control that the president had over the transfers— the implementation of the programs was not based on any diagnosis, had no rules or evaluations, and sought primarily to foster political support for the president’s party by associating the programs directly with his image ^{(Dussauge Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo, 2021}; ^{Dussauge-Laguna, 2021}; ^{Sánchez-Talanquer, 2020}; ^{Sánchez-Talanquer and Greene, 2021)}. Since, as mentioned above, the presidential narrative framed AMLO as the sole legitimate representative of the will of the “people”, whose words were indisputable truths, “in the face of the presidential will, legal norms, technical knowledge, or the quality of evidence take a backseat” ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b: 119)} . Thus, this supposed understanding of the needs of the “people” was sufficient for him to omit any type of technical explanation or political justification for his decisions ^{(Dussauge-Laguna, 2021)}.

^{Dussauge-Laguna (2022)} argues that AMLO distorted every stage of public policy process to the detriment of democratic standards. In defining the government’s agenda, the president presented his priority issues as “the will of the people”, thereby rejecting the importance of other problems and delegitimizing actors who promoted alternative issues. In policy formulation and design, AMLO also relied on his supposed understanding of popular needs and the electoral support he received to claim that “the people” supported his decisions, even though these were based on spontaneous impulses rather than reasoning grounded in in-depth analysis. Implementation was characterized by centralization in the Executive Branch, the performative inauguration of unfinished projects, and the use of parallel administrative structures composed of networks of supporters who declared themselves loyal to his project. Evaluation was based on ignoring and attacking the recommendations and criticisms of independent experts to ensure that the government had “other data” on the success of the programs and policies. Finally, the termination of public policies entailed the systematic and unjustified disappearance of institutions, public offices, and policy tools to replace them with others based on the president’s will ^{(Dussauge-Laguna, 2022)}.

With these impacts on the public policy process, AMLO also effectively controlled the legislative process ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b)} . Another notable example highlighted in the literature for its implications is linked, once again, to the INE. Faced with the failed constitutional reform to eliminate the institute, AMLO presented a “Plan B” in Congress. The proposal bypassed standard legislative procedures, was not discussed or negotiated with opposition parties, and —given the haste with which it was approved— it is unrealistic to suggest that ruling-party legislators even read or evaluated the measures they voted into law ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023c)}. This example is particularly significant because, as ^{Haggard and Kaufman (2021)} warn, control of the legislature is a crucial step in the collapse of the separation of powers A congress dominated by an autocratic executive can amend laws to serve the leader’s agenda ^{(Haggard and Kaufman, 2021)}.

Militarization of Public Administration and Security

The trend toward militarization in Mexico began before AMLO’s six-year term ^{(Ibarra del Cueto, 2023}; ^{Pansters and Serrano, 2023)} ; however, the armed forces were among the few sectors of government that avoided budget cuts and instead saw systematic increases in resources and responsibilities. In this sense, ^{Ibarra del Cueto (2023)} notes that AMLO advanced his agenda by deploying the military in diverse security and public administration tasks. This involvement deepened as the armed forces took on managerial roles in public services and federal bureaucracy, with newly created or modified institutions —ostensibly civilian— placed under military or naval command ^{(Dussauge Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo, 2021)} . By integrating the military into civilian functions, public service becomes opaque due to these corporations’ resistance to transparency ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023b)} .

Three projects epitomize AMLO’s militarization agenda due to their prominence: the National Guard, the Felipe Ángeles International Airport, and the Maya Train ^{(Dussauge-Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo, 2021}; ^{Ibarra del Cueto, 2023}; ^{Pansters and Serrano, 2023)} . The National Guard, initially conceived as a civilian-led police force, was swiftly restructured under AMLO to operate under military personnel and command ^{(Pansters and Serrano, 2023)}. Regarding the airport and the train, the army was entrusted with leading their construction and operation, and their economic profits will be primarily allocated to the armed forces ^{(Ibarra del Cueto, 2023)}. Without evidence or rationale, AMLO justified the inclusion of the army and navy in multiple projects and public works with the unsubstantiated idea that the armed forces are not corrupt, but rather “people in uniform” who will protect the projects if the “conservatives” return to power ^{(Ibarra del Cueto, 2023)}.

For ^{Pansters and Serrano (2023)} , AMLO accelerated and deepened the militarization of the country due to the problems associated with the activities and violence of organized crime, pressure from the United States, and his centralist and hierarchical vision of government operations. In any case, his alliance with the military was further evidenced by his unwavering defense of their actions —including espionage, intimidation, and violence— and his concealment of information related to serious human rights violations, especially in the case of the disappearance of 43 students from the Ayotzinapa Rural Teachers’ College ^{(Ibarra del Cueto, 2023)} . Thus, as ^{Sánchez-Talanquer (2020)} highlights, AMLO’s decision to resort so extensively to the armed forces not only marked a shift in the opposite direction from his campaign promises, but also represented a sharp break with human rights organizations and social movements led by families of victims of violence.

Political Use of Participatory Democracy Mechanisms

Since becoming president-elect, AMLO increasingly relied on public consultations and referendums on a range of issues. These alleged exercises of direct democracy disguised the president’s decisions as popular decisions ^{(Sánchez-Talanquer, 2020)} . ^{Ibarra del Cueto (2023: 304)} argues that the popular consultations implemented by the Executive Branch in Mexico were intended to flex its “plebiscitarian muscle” to suggest that its agenda was that of the “people” and that, ultimately, any actor who opposed —whether the consultation itself or the issue being discussed— lacked legitimacy. ^{Dussauge-Laguna (2021)} concurs and points out that ad hoc public consultations were systematically used to argue that the president “listens to the people” and that the public trusted him and his decisions.

The purpose of referendums can be rendered meaningless if populist governments manipulate information about the topics being consulted and the wording of the questions ^{(Dussauge-Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo, 2021)} . In this sense, the referendums promoted by AMLO were problematic in their design, communication, and implementation because their “legality, legitimacy, and effectiveness” in terms of public policy were unclear ^{(Dussauge-Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo, 2021: 162)} . For instance, AMLO argued that the referendum on the closure of construction work on the so-called New Mexico City International Airport was intended to let the “people” decide, but its implementation failed to respect applicable laws and involved not state institutions but rather Morena activists ^{(Sánchez-Talanquer, 2020)} . Added to this is the fact that the citizen consultations implemented by AMLO did not stem from grassroots demands unrelated to political parties or the government, but were linked to the presidential agenda. Furthermore, they were used to discredit the INE because in no case did legislators from the president’s party guarantee the necessary resources for the institute to implement them properly ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2023c)} .

In short, for ^{Aguilar Rivera (2022: 369-370)} , the popular consultations implemented by AMLO contributed to the autocratization process in at least two ways: first, because they functioned as instruments “of electoral manipulation and mobilization by the regime” against the autonomous electoral authority; second, because they had a “detrimental effect on the autonomy of the judiciary”, particularly in the case of a consultation on the impeachment of former presidents, in which the SCJN failed to curb the Executive Branch’s intention to consult on judicial proceedings and associated rights.

Ambiguous Legality

^{Dussauge-Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo (2021: 157)} point out that AMLO displayed “an unorthodox relationship” with the legal principles and procedures that define the “rule of law”, while ^{Monsiváis-Carrillo (2022b)} finds that, although respect for the Constitution had already declined under the two previous administrations, the problem worsened under AMLO. This “ambiguous legality” ^{(Dussauge-Laguna, 2022: 787)} was observed not only in the president’s actions but also among his party’s legislators, members of his cabinet, and several Morena governors who openly violated laws prohibiting them from participating in political campaigns ^{(Monsiváis-Carrillo, 2022a)}.

An example that is rarely discussed in the literature, but notable for its implications, is the violation of the principle of separation between church and state. AMLO’s discourse was deeply infused with religious references, and his alliances with evangelical churches were frequently reiterated publicly ^{(Sánchez-Talanquer, 2020)} . Furthermore, the president violated the principle by including evangelical churches in the distribution of his “moral primer” ^{(Dussauge-Laguna and Aguilar Arévalo, 2021)} . Additionally, a fundamental part of the government’s narrative was the promise of an “authentic democracy” for the “people”. However, as ^{Monsiváis-Carrillo (2023c)} points out, this idea, on the one hand, automatically discredited current laws and regulations and, on the other, concealed the fact that AMLO’s government was seeking to dismantle the laws that guaranteed the institutional autonomy of the electoral democracy built over decades.