Puerto Vallarta Drug Lord Killed: Paradise Turns to Panic Overnight

The smoke was no longer rising in thick columns by late afternoon in Puerto Vallarta, but it still hung in the air like a relic the city couldn’t quite get rid of. Inland, along arterial roads and supermarket parking lots, charred buses and blackened cars told a different story from the postcard-perfect beaches, where blue Pacific water curled onto clean sand.

Following a military operation in Tapalpa, Jalisco, Mexican authorities announced the death of Nemesio Rubén Oseguera Cervantes, better known to most as “El Mencho.” He was 59 years old, the leader of the influential Jalisco New Generation Cartel, and the target of a $15 million US bounty. He died while being taken to Mexico City after being injured in a firefight, officials said. Violence broke out in several states in a matter of hours.

Many Mexicans might have expected reprisals as soon as word of his passing spread. Seldom do cartel hierarchies fall apart in silence. Opportunistic rivals, power changes, and retaliation all have a tendency to emerge swiftly and occasionally violently. In this instance, burning cars blocked highways. Companies were burned. Guadalajara and Puerto Vallarta flights were either rerouted or cancelled. What ought to have been a typical Sunday in a seaside town became something much more delicate.

With their rifles slung, National Guard soldiers stood guard outside the Puerto Vallarta airport, looking out over the horizon in a fixed stance that conveyed readiness rather than composure. The atmosphere inside the terminal was more apprehensive than dramatic. As departure boards flickered with cancellations, travelers gazed at them. Every few seconds, a woman by the Alaska Airlines counter reloaded her phone and muttered, “Is it canceled? Has it been canceled? There was more to the question than flights.

Puerto Vallarta seems to occupy a peculiar dual identity. In addition to being a stronghold in Jalisco state, which is home to the CJNG, it is a popular destination for tourists from around the world, where cruise ships dock in the bright sun and retirees enjoy coffee along the Malecón. It seemed unreal to watch that tension play out in real time. Smoke plumes drifting inland were being recorded from the same pier where tourists used to film sunsets.

Claudia Sheinbaum, president of Mexico, called for composure and insisted that “peace, security, and normalcy” were being upheld throughout the majority of the nation. Although dozens were killed during the larger military operation and the ensuing clashes, officials reported no civilian casualties directly related to the retaliation. Nevertheless, when buses are burning in front of supermarkets, comfort can seem ethereal.

Locals said they were taken by surprise. Before receiving an official explanation, a longtime expat resident claimed to have seen smoke “all the way across the city.” Companies quickly closed. Schools were closed. Public transit was shut down. In certain neighborhoods, when emergency personnel were overburdened, locals stepped in to put out small fires. It was both uplifting and incredibly unnerving to watch locals organize spontaneous bucket brigades—ordinary people entering extraordinary situations.

U.S. officials had a direct message for tourists: stay put. Several carriers suspended flights. Stranded travelers searching for updates through group chats and airline apps were headed to Los Angeles, Toronto, and Houston. Earlier in the day, airports in Guadalajara and Puerto Vallarta reported chaotic scenes; however, under a strong military presence, things gradually stabilized.

Similar violent outbursts have previously occurred in response to the arrests or deaths of cartel leaders. Following the capture of Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán, there were retaliatory incidents. Internal strife broke out when Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada was taken into custody. A vacuum can be created by the removal of a powerful person, and in organized crime, vacuums rarely remain empty for very long. Whether El Mencho’s passing will weaken the CJNG over time or split it up into smaller, more unstable groups vying for power is still up in the air.

Streets in Guadalajara, a city getting ready to host World Cup matches, reportedly became uncomfortably quiet. Locals urged each other to stay at home in WhatsApp messages. Until road conditions improved, a trucking association advised drivers to stay in depots. The image of a green military tank slowly passing through a residential area served as a reminder of how easily tension can take the place of routine.

Nevertheless, some semblance of order started to return by Monday afternoon. Supermarkets cautiously reopened. They were reevaluating flights. Incidents were declared “under control” by authorities. That phrase frequently comes up during these situations, sometimes implying precisely what it says and other times just indicating that the fires are currently extinguished.

It’s difficult to ignore the weight of contradiction as you watch this play out. The death of a man who was considered by many to be among the most influential drug traffickers in the world is a serious setback to organized crime, at least in symbolic terms. Communities that rely on stability for their livelihoods are also affected by the cost of that blow.

It seems as though Puerto Vallarta will find its rhythms again. There have been hurricanes. After changing the tourism industry, the pandemic then relaxed its hold. The city has previously experienced shocks. However, the question that lingers in the humid air is whether this is just another chapter in a conflict that has already lasted decades, or if it is the start of a larger change inside the CJNG.

Beach umbrellas are currently being replaced with sand. Flights are slowly starting up again. The smoke has gotten thinner. However, residents and tourists alike are reminded that beneath the surface of paradise, the currents can change very quickly by the memory of burned cars along palm-lined roads.