Mexico’s Laws Have a New Target: Journalists
Politicians and public officials are increasingly using the country’s legal system to intimidate critics and the press, forcing self-censorship and curbing public scrutiny.
A state prosecutor charged a journalist with terrorism over his reporting. A court ordered a columnist to delete an article linking a political candidate to criminal networks. A judge barred a newspaper from mentioning a state governor unless its coverage had first been approved by a court-appointed reviewer.
These cases—all occurring within the past year—are part of a growing trend across Mexico: politicians and public officials are weaponizing the country’s legal system to sue, fine, and prosecute critics and journalists, according to press freedom organizations that have documented the litigation. In civil, criminal, and electoral proceedings, journalists have been accused of violating anti-terrorism laws, artificial intelligence regulations, and legislation intended to protect women in politics from discrimination, among other offenses.
Mexico has long been one of the world's most dangerous countries for journalists, with nearly 180 media professionals killed since 2000. Now, through lawsuits and court orders, the Mexican press faces a new obstacle—less visible than death threats and bullets, yet equally capable of silencing critical reporting.
According to journalists and media experts, these legal actions have led some reporters to censor themselves or avoid covering certain issues or political figures for fear of financial ruin, endless litigation, or imprisonment.
“What we are seeing is government officials activating the judicial system to intimidate,” said Leopoldo Maldonado, Executive Director of Article 19, the press freedom organization. “Not to seek redress for alleged damage to their honor, reputation, or image, but rather to subject journalists to prolonged legal harassment.”
Supporters of these laws argue that their application is legitimate. Senator Martha Lucía Mícher, who was responsible for much of Mexico’s legal framework against gender-based political violence, rejected the idea that women politicians were abusing these protections to silence criticism.
“There is journalism—I have to acknowledge it—that remains deeply committed to its principles,” said Mícher, a member of Mexico’s ruling Morena party. “But there is also journalism—said with all due respect—that is highly misogynistic.”
Mícher said she would be willing to review how such cases are being resolved.
“We are not abusing these laws,” she said. “We are the victims.”
Earlier this year, however, the Inter American Press Association (IAPA), which represents media organizations throughout the Western Hemisphere, placed Mexico for the first time in its “high restriction” category in its Freedom of Expression Index, citing the growing use of lawsuits and other legal mechanisms by public officials “to silence criticism.”
Article 19 documented 69 such cases in 2025—a record number and more than triple the figure recorded the previous year. Most legal actions against media organizations were initiated by political parties, candidates, or public officials. Last year alone, Article 19 tracked the approval of at least eight state and federal laws that restrict freedom of expression.
“Mexico is experiencing an abuse of these legal mechanisms,” said Paulina Gutiérrez, Executive Director of R3D, a Mexican digital rights organization. “They are being misused, and they are also poorly drafted from a legislative standpoint, allowing judges and public officials to exploit them.”
A Strained Relationship
The relationship between Mexican authorities and the press has always been complicated.
During the decades-long rule of Mexico’s one-party political system, many journalists did not challenge those in power but instead facilitated it in exchange for favors or bribes. It was not until the 1990s that a more independent press began to emerge, according to Andrew Paxman, author of Mexican Watchdogs: The Rise of a Critical Press Since the 1980s.
That greater independence, however, brought increasing tensions in the years that followed, as journalists found themselves caught between government corruption and organized crime.
During several presidential administrations, the government spent hundreds of millions of dollars each year on official advertising. The revenue became so vital to many media outlets that public officials used it as leverage to suppress investigative reporting, influence front-page coverage, and pressure newsrooms that challenged them.
A New Tool for Censorship
It all began with a one-minute radio spot. In the satirical segment, three siblings asked their influential father to secure them candidacies in the 2024 elections, arguing over which political party each should represent.
The piece, broadcast by Radio Teocelo—the community radio station that also produced it—did not mention any names, real political parties, or specific locations.
Yet Mara Chama Villa, who was seeking a seat in Congress with Mexico’s Green Ecologist Party and whose father had previously served as mayor of Teocelo, a coffee-producing town in the state of Veracruz—the country’s deadliest state for journalists—believed the satire was aimed at her. She filed a complaint against Radio Teocelo and against journalists from other media outlets who had reported on her unsuccessful 2021 attempt to succeed her father as mayor.
According to court documents reviewed by The New York Times, Chama Villa argued that the coverage diminished her professional achievements and harmed her chances of winning the election.
In April 2025, a federal court found five journalists guilty of political gender-based violence for "minimizing" Chama Villa by "subordinating her to a male figure with political power," according to the court's ruling.
Chama Villa did not respond to specific questions but stated that her case "reflects situations that, unfortunately, many women continue to face in politics."
The penalties were severe: fines exceeding a month's salary, mandatory public apologies, the removal of the radio segment and all the challenged articles, and inclusion in a national registry of individuals sanctioned for political violence against women on the basis of gender. When journalists, analysts, and civil society organizations criticized the ruling, the case escalated nationally, and approximately 70 additional individuals received legal notifications.
"People talk about freedom of expression and the right to information, but all of that has become meaningless," said Élfego Riveros, the Radio Teocelo reporter who wrote and produced the piece. "The moment we point a finger at powerful interests exposed to public scrutiny, they come after us with punishment."
Others outside the media have also become targets.
Earlier this year, a court sanctioned anti-corruption activist Miguel Alfonso Meza for political gender-based violence against Silvia Delgado, an attorney who represented notorious drug trafficker Joaquín Guzmán Loera, better known as "El Chapo." Meza had referred to her as a "narco-lawyer" while questioning her candidacy for a criminal court judgeship in Mexico's first-ever judicial elections.
After the court later overturned part of the sanctions imposed on Meza, Delgado said she would appeal the decision. Her objective, she explained in an interview, was "not to silence anyone, but to protect my dignity."
"By describing my candidacy as highly dangerous and comparing me to other candidates under investigation for drug trafficking," she said of Meza, "he unleashed an excessive number of attacks against me."
'The Fear Has Never Gone Away'
Last Christmas Eve, Rafael León, a crime reporter in the port city of Coatzacoalcos, believed he was being kidnapped when unmarked vehicles blocked his path and armed men dragged him from his car.
He was being arrested.
Prosecutors in the state of Veracruz charged León with terrorism, arguing that his reporting on drug cartels had spread fear among the population. They also accused him of obstruction of justice because he often arrived at crime scenes before police officers, and of accepting bribes from criminal organizations. After President Claudia Sheinbaum publicly questioned the legal basis of the terrorism charge, prosecutors dropped that accusation.
The Veracruz Attorney General's Office did not respond to requests for comment.
León, who denies all allegations against him, spent nearly a month under house arrest. He still faces other criminal charges and has significantly reduced the frequency of his reporting.
"The fear has never gone away," he said. "People have noticed it. They tell me I'm not the same person anymore."
Litigation in cases like these is often highly technical and can gradually overwhelm media organizations.
Tribuna de Campeche was one of five newspapers in the state of Campeche that ceased print operations and transitioned to digital-only publication following sustained financial and legal pressure from the state government.
"The governor began harassing them over taxes, targeting staff members, filing lawsuits, and cutting off government advertising," said Jorge Luis González, former editor of Tribuna, who has faced multiple legal actions brought by Campeche Governor Layda Sansores.
Sansores' spokesman, Walther Patrón—who has also sued González for defamation—declined a request for an interview.
Last summer, a judge prohibited González from publishing anything related to Sansores and ordered Tribuna to submit any content mentioning the governor to a court-appointed reviewer for approval before publication. The order never took effect because the journalists' legal team successfully obtained an injunction.
Around the same time, Sheinbaum downplayed concerns that press freedom was under threat.
"Where is there censorship in Mexico?" she asked reporters. "Everyone is free to say whatever they want, and no one is being persecuted."
Source: Infobae
Author: Emiliano Rodríguez Mega y Paulina Villegas
Picture: Heber Vazquez