By Juan Larrosa, July 21, 2025
I was born in the late 1970s and grew up in Mexico during the 1985 earthquake and devaluation, the 1986 World Cup, and the “system blackout” which led to Carlos Salinas de Gortari’s presidency in 1988. That places me squarely in Generation X—a generation that came of age in the final decade of the century and witnessed the tumultuous 1990s, when, quite symbolically, the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) came into force on January 1, 1994—the very same day the Zapatistas rose in arms in Chiapas, in southern Mexico. What followed were political assassinations, an economic crisis with its so-called “tequila effect,” and a long democratic transition that, in my view, was more a rotation of political parties than a true transformation of power.
In the 1990s, on the meso level—where social life takes shape—discursive formations began to emerge that would gradually mold our everyday lives. In private middle-class schools, bilingualism became the hallmark of quality education: to have a future in a world where Mexico had to look northward, one had to speak English like a native. In academia and professional spaces, it became popular to claim that Mexico belonged geographically to North America and not to Central America. In Nexos and Letras Libres, we read that the country’s relationship with the United States was inevitable. In the supermarket, we suddenly found countless products that had previously only been available through fayuca (smuggled imports). In academic circles, globalization, hybrid cultures, multiculturalism, and cosmopolitanism became fashionable terms. And while, in practice, we remained within the backyard of the United States, a discourse of inevitable regional integration took hold.
In the late 1990s and early 2000s, I entered university, where I encountered critical ideas about this new reality. I learned about the World Social Forum, became familiar with the emergence of media observatories, and closely followed the alter-globalization protests against organizations like the World Trade Organization. I traveled to communities in Chiapas and studied the organizational practices they proposed at the time. In southern Jalisco, I worked with grassroots ecclesial communities that served as electoral observers and resisted large agribusinesses that, following NAFTA, leased land to grow export-oriented fruits and vegetables. We also observed the migration corridors in the region—home to temporary agricultural workers living in inhumane conditions that echoed pre-revolutionary Mexico.
Now, thirty years after NAFTA came into effect, economic integration is unraveling, and the discourses that supported it are crumbling along with it. The current landscape is disconcerting. The financial formula helped build a trade bloc, but it did not bring widespread prosperity. Mexico remained a deeply unequal country, with wealth concentrated in the hands of a few. But it also harmed other social sectors, especially in the United States. While not all the blame can be attributed to the agreement, the broader economic policies impoverished the U.S. working class, stripping it of stability and well-being. Combined with profound cultural shifts, these conditions became fertile ground for the reactionary right-wing movements that ultimately brought Trump to power.
The new political winds in the United States make it clear that the path will no longer be one of free trade or regional integration; it is increasingly evident that the wall—the limit—rests along the Rio Grande. Meanwhile, in Mexico, a self-proclaimed leftist government insists on preserving that agreement, which maintains healthy macroeconomic figures, yet has fueled profound inequality.
This is a troubling moment. After a lifetime shaped by neoliberal and integrationist narratives, the political and economic pacts that structured our world are being eroded and are on the verge of dissolution—decisions now being made in arenas where everyday citizens have no voice, let alone a vote.
Reflecting on these lived experiences, I believe it is time for us to begin forging an autonomous and independent path. Perhaps we won’t, but our children might. Surrendering once again to decisions made elsewhere, in other geographies, would be a historical mistake.
This piece was originally broadcast on NTR Radio’s news program on July 21, 2025, hosted by journalist Sergio René de Dios Corona.