“Sol Prendido” for Borderland Beat
In Taxco de Alarcón, Guerrero, La Familia Michoacana controls everything from the price of beer to the vulnerability of the mayor himself.
Compounding this criminal organization’s encroachment are widespread extortion schemes targeting merchants, along with a wave of kidnappings and disappearances. As a further aggravating factor, the town faces a nearly 20-year-old strike that has paralyzed the mining sector—historically a vital source of employment.
This snapshot of the “Magic Town” forces its inhabitants to coexist within a system where both the market and the political sphere no longer answer to the State.
The sale of beer serves as a prime example. While the refrigerators in convenience stores sit empty—under the pretext of a non-existent “official regulation”—small neighborhood grocery stores sell the product at inflated prices, operating with the express approval of the criminal organization.
—”You don’t sell beer, do you?”
—”No alcohol at all. You won’t find alcohol in any Oxxo store. The city council won’t allow it.”
—”Why?”
—”I suppose they just don’t like our promotions,” quips one of the employees at a store in the municipality.
MILENIO has documented that, two years after first reporting on this phenomenon, the situation remains exactly the same. The refrigerators in the major retail chains remain empty, and only a handful of small corner shops sell “cervezas.”
Employee testimonies confirm the climate of fear: while ice and mixers are available for purchase, alcohol remains a prohibited commodity for the major retail chains, thereby leaving the market entirely in the hands of those sanctioned by the criminal underworld.
At the stores surveyed, only brands from Grupo Modelo (Anheuser-Busch InBev) are available, and prices vary drastically.
For instance, a standard 355-milliliter bottle is sold for anywhere between 35 and 39 pesos, while in other locations, a 473-milliliter tallboy can is priced at 32 pesos. Other establishments simply stopped stocking products from Cuauhtémoc Moctezuma—a brand that is now part of Heineken Mexico.
—The Oxxo stores don’t sell them; it’s been about three years now…
—Why?
—Because they weren’t given permission.
—Well, they *used* to sell them. But once [the cartel] moved in—you know… with everything that’s going on…
—How much are you selling them for?
—35.
—Just Corona?
—Modelo, Victoria, and mixed drinks… They haven’t restocked us since Holy Week; we’ve run out.
This phenomenon of supply control is mirrored in basic necessities such as chicken and meat, or construction materials, which carry disproportionately inflated prices compared to other cities.
The same applies to essential services—such as public transportation, taxis, and passenger vans—as well as the retail sector; these industries operate under the shadow of criminal organizations that have successfully co-opted, regulated, or intimidated the local economy.
Moreover, the population is learning to coexist with the siege of a cartel that has effectively become the *de facto* administrator of daily life.
Criminal Control Across 18 Locations
The presence of *La Familia Michoacana* extends across a network of at least 18 localities within Taxco. This region serves as a strategic hub for the trafficking of illicit goods and for facilitating movement between towns to evade law enforcement operations: to the east, it borders the state of Morelos; to the north, the State of Mexico; and to the south, Chilpancingo—the capital of Guerrero. Press reports and federal sources document the operational presence of La Familia Michoacana—manifested through roadblocks, checkpoints, or kidnappings—in the following communities:
* Acamixtla
* Tetipac
* Teacalco
* Acuitlapán
* Papala
* Tehuilotepec
* Cacalotenango
* San Gregorio
* Texcaltitla
* Huiyatengo
* Pedro Martín
* Montaña de Plata
* Cholsingo
* El Cedrito
* Pilcaya
* Axixintla
* Huajintlán
* El Gavilán
In the town of Acamixtla, for instance, the establishment of criminal checkpoints is a constant occurrence; it was there that the car belonging to the mayor’s father was located following his abduction.
This location connects directly to Tetipac, a place well known as the base of operations for Roberto Carlos Zagal Jacobo—alias “El Pelón”—a local ringleader believed to be responsible for the kidnapping.
This area functions as a logistical corridor: to the north, routes passing through Pilcaya and Tetipac connect to the State of Mexico; to the east, the passage through Huajintlán and Teacalco opens a gateway to Morelos.
In Acuitlapán and Papala, the use of surveillance cameras has been documented, as has the deployment of *halcones* (lookouts) positioned at strategic vantage points.
In Tehuilotepec and Cacalotenango, federal forces have confirmed the location of safe houses used to hold victims in captivity—as occurred in the case of the municipal police officers kidnapped in 2023.
The Mayor: “Located,” Yet Absent
The security crisis in Guerrero demonstrates that, in this “Magic Town,” not even the figure of the municipal mayor enjoys immunity against a criminal system that has thoroughly permeated the region.
Although federal authorities confirmed the whereabouts of Mayor Juan Andrés Vega Carranza and his father—after they had been kidnapped by an armed group and subsequently released days later during an operation by federal forces—the mayor has chosen to remain in isolation. He has become a phantom figure.
MILENIO repeatedly attempted to contact the official to obtain a statement regarding the situation in the municipality, but received no response.
His communications team limited itself to stating that he “continues to carry out his duties,” yet he has refused to make public appearances or hold press conferences, effectively deferring the handling of the crisis to a legal process that, they claim, “doesn’t fall within the purview of the municipal government.” “We don’t have any press conferences scheduled. This is a process that doesn’t fall within the City Council’s purview; it is a legal process that must be handled by the appropriate authorities. He continues to carry out his duties,” a representative from his team stated emphatically in response to this media outlet’s persistent inquiries.
So far, the mayor has only been seen on social media. In a video, flanked by members of the City Council, he refuted claims regarding his absence and any administrative paralysis.
“We remain here at the helm, working for the Taxco that we all desire,” he affirmed.
However, his voluntary seclusion following the kidnapping serves only to confirm that, in Taxco, political power, too, lives under the yoke of fear.
Taxco: Two Decades of a Pact
The recent kidnapping and subsequent rescue of the mayor represent merely the most visible symptom of a pandemic that Taxco has been suffering from for two decades.
In interviews, former officials, mining leaders, and representatives from various sectors analyze the current crisis; they view it as a problem rooted in the upper echelons—specifically, the consolidation of a *de facto* pact between the political establishment and organized crime—which has eroded institutions and directly impacts key sectors such as commerce.
Abraham Ponce Guadarrama—who served as Mayor of Taxco (2002–2005) and as a local legislator—has dedicated himself to academic life for the past two decades. He possesses an intimate knowledge of Taxco and its key figures, yet he offers a caveat: “These are different times.”
“These are very distinct times—very different from the era we lived through. I recall that during the three years I served at the head of the Taxco City Council, there were no criminal incidents; the statistics from over 20 years ago bear this out. There was one kidnapping during that three-year term, but for legal purposes, it effectively never happened because the family chose not to report it,” he recounts.
Drawing upon his academic perspective, the former official attempts to explain the recent events that have caused public perception of safety within the municipality to plummet.
“Consider the stark contrast: we just experienced one of the most heavily attended Holy Weeks in many years, yet the very next week, the episode involving the kidnapping of the mayor and his father unfolded,” he noted.
“We are very happy—delighted, really—about the economic windfall; we depend on tourism or on handicrafts, on the people who come to buy silver on weekends at the largest open-air market in the world,” he laments.
For Ponce Guadarrama, events of this nature inflict deep economic and social damage, exposing what he defines as an “institutional crisis.”
The academic highlights the phenomenon of the relationship between the State and organized crime—a dynamic in which the civilian population is left vulnerable.
“What I find particularly troubling are these ‘narco-pacts,’ because, in reality, society itself is being handed over. In any area where a deal is struck with criminal elements, you are practically placing society into their hands—leaving it open to robbery, extortion, and the imposition of protection rackets. Since an agreement is in place—and perhaps even support was provided to help them gain power—they feel obligated to reciprocate,” Ponce explained.
While refraining from casting direct judgment upon the current administration—yet refusing to vouch for anyone—he warns that this situation is simply the inherent logic of organized crime at work.
“I have no concrete proof regarding either the previous mayor or the current one; however, this aligns with the underlying logic of the organized crime problem. There are places where rival groups clash, engaging in gunfights among themselves as they vie for control of the territory—and that is precisely where the ordinary citizen gets caught in the crossfire,” the former official noted.
**Resolving the Strike Means Resolving the Crisis, Miners Say**
Historically, one of Taxco’s economic pillars has been mining; however, for the past 19 years, a strike has kept the municipality’s three mines—El Solar, Remedios, and San Vicente—completely paralyzed.
The silver displayed and sold on the sidewalks isn’t even sourced locally within Guerrero; the raw silver granules originate in Zacatecas, leaving local artisans and
merchants without a domestic supply of raw material to work with.
What ought to be a source of mass employment—serving as a vital counterweight to the co-optation by organized crime—remains at a standstill; it is a structural issue that only adds another layer of complexity to the equation of violence plaguing the region. In an interview, Roberto Hernández Mojica, General Secretary of Section 17 of the Miners’ Union, asserts that ending the strike would reactivate the mines, thereby serving as an economic catalyst and, consequently, a viable alternative for establishing legitimate sources of employment.
It would represent, he notes, a fundamental economic solution for Taxco. For this reason, he calls upon the federal government to exercise its good offices and resolve the conflict with Germán Larrea—the current owner of the mining companies—once and for all.
“There will be jobs, and with jobs comes a reduction in crime. Many young people are sometimes dazzled by false promises; however, by opening up this vital source of employment—which is very well-paid—Taxco’s economy will recover,” maintained Hernández Mojica.
“We want to tell the people of Taxco to have confidence in us; we are not fighting solely for our own families, but for the entire municipality—opening up this vital source of employment, above all for the youth,” she emphasized.
Regarding the silver trade, she confirms that “extortion fees are being demanded, and the economy is sluggish; earnings aren’t even enough to cover the fees—but well… that is the reality we are facing.”
**We Don’t Want Another Pandemic**
Marta Beatriz Mejía Domínguez, President of the Association of Hotels and Tourism Businesses of Taxco, vividly recalls the 2020 pandemic as one of the most tragic episodes for the sector.
She acknowledges that insecurity could become a pretext for travelers to stop visiting this destination; however, as a tourism entrepreneur, she knows that one must put on a brave face in the face of adversity.
The representative for tourism businesses explains that this sector generates at least 50 percent of the municipality’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP).
Consequently, she maintains, they cannot falter in the face of the perception of insecurity, underscoring the need to keep the local economic engine running through world-class events.
First and foremost, she is emphatic: tourism here is safe. And regarding the kidnapping incident, she states: “It was an isolated event”; “It doesn’t happen only in Taxco.”
“Unfortunately, we are currently in the spotlight, but if you watch the news, you’ll see this is an issue affecting the entire nation,” comments Mejía Domínguez.
While she recognizes that the situation is difficult for the sector—which has faced a sort of “silent inflation” over recent years—she extends a vote of confidence to Mayor Vega Carranza, Governor Evelyn Salgado, and President Claudia Sheinbaum.
“We all have to do our part from where we stand. And we, for our part, must provide tourists with better—and high-quality—service; we must offer them the certainty and assurance that they are visiting a safe and peaceful ‘Magic Town.’ We live here; we make our living from tourism. We are all truly committed to continuing our work and promoting this destination so that the tourists don’t leave—because we certainly do not want to experience another pandemic,” asserted Mejía.
Source: Milenio