As China Courts Mexico, Washington Tweets
A viral tweet masked a deeper contest: control of the hemisphere’s strategic hinge.
By Ghaleb Krame
1. The Undeclared Digital War Begins
On June 4, 2025, U.S. Ambassador Ronald Johnson launched a bilingual warning on X (formerly Twitter):
“We’re not just competing with China—we’re confronting threats to critical infrastructure and food security. The U.S. and Mexico must face them together as strategic allies.”
It was a clear signal: Mexico’s geopolitical alignment was no longer background noise—it was a battleground.
Hours later, China’s embassy in Mexico responded by lifting a phrase from an obscure local user, reposting it without attribution:
“Being America’s enemy is dangerous, but being its friend is fatal.”
It was classic Chinese narrative warfare: take local sentiment, strip attribution, amplify for maximum impact. A marginal tweet was re-engineered into global anti-American propaganda—without a single bot or billboard.
The U.S. Embassy countered with cultural diplomacy: a tweet about Paracho, Michoacán, famed for its handcrafted guitars. Artisans there reported a 40% drop in sales due to cheap Chinese imports. A banner in the image read:
“We’re not selling our Paracho guitars—because of the Chinese guitar.”
China struck back with cutting sarcasm:
“The guitar doesn’t kill… but guns do.”
A reference to the U.S. Supreme Court’s same-day dismissal of Mexico’s lawsuit against American gunmakers for fueling cartel violence. In just 48 hours, a spat over trade became a proxy war over legitimacy, crime, sovereignty—and hemispheric loyalty.
2. A Shift Already Underway
Contrary to the assumptions of many in Washington, Mexico is not on the verge of choosing sides. It already has. And Beijing didn’t demand an announcement.
Since 2018, China has laid strategic roots in Mexican soil: financing Mexico City’s metro expansion, building key segments of the Mayan Train, and developing industrial parks in Nuevo León and Coahuila. These are not gestures of goodwill—they are instruments of leverage.
Beijing’s offer is simple: investment without interference. Technology without conditionality. Respect without reform. And in the vacuum left by U.S. fatigue, China has become the power that doesn’t lecture—but delivers.
Morena, Mexico’s ruling party, reinforces this realignment with its narrative of national dignity and anti-imperial rhetoric. Among low-income voters, especially those disillusioned by Trump-era pressure campaigns, this message resonates. China plays the quiet partner. The U.S. is cast as the scolding relative.
3. A Fractured Mexico, A Missed American Opportunity
But Mexico is far from ideologically unified. While Morena’s core sees China as a geopolitical refuge, millions of Mexicans view the United States as the only actor capable of confronting their country’s gravest threat: organized crime.
When Donald Trump proposed labeling cartels as Foreign Terrorist Organizations (FTOs), American analysts warned of diplomatic fallout. But in Mexico, something else happened: silence—and then approval. For a population exhausted by extortion, assassinations, and narco control of municipalities, the FTO proposal felt less like foreign interference and more like long-overdue acknowledgment.
It spoke to a growing reality: for many Mexicans, the threat to sovereignty doesn’t come from Washington or Beijing—it comes from the alliance between corrupt elites and criminal power. If it takes pressure from abroad to break that bond, many are quietly in favor.
4. Sheinbaum’s Strategic Test
President Claudia Sheinbaum, elected with historic margins, is marketed as a calm technocrat with scientific credentials. But she leads a party apparatus deeply tied to the militarization of security, the political shielding of criminal networks, and the rhetorical deference to authoritarian regimes.
Her key advisors, especially in the security and foreign policy arenas, are veterans of the López Obrador era—an era that saw cartel power expand and civilian oversight decline. So far, Sheinbaum has maintained ambivalence on U.S. security initiatives, defended Cuba, minimized U.S. sanctions, and avoided taking a stance on the FTO designation.
But rhetoric has limits. Sovereignty cannot be defended rhetorically if criminal groups occupy territory, control trade routes, and openly deploy drones and paramilitary units. No president can claim to defend the Mexican state while surrendering large parts of it.
Sheinbaum must choose between preserving ideological loyalty—and confronting the narco-state with real power.
5. A New Axis: Not Just Neighbors, But Comrades
Sheinbaum’s foreign policy is not non-alignment. It is alignment with an emerging bloc of authoritarian-leaning, China-friendly governments: Cuba, Venezuela, Petro’s Colombia—and now, Mexico.
In 2024, Mexico exported over $335 million in crude oil to Cuba, despite its own energy shortages. Sheinbaum has defended Cuban medical brigades accused of forced labor and refused to respond to U.S. accusations of complicity. She frames it all as “Latin American solidarity.”
But the true ideological anchor is China. Unlike Trump, Xi Jinping has met with Sheinbaum in person. Their rapport is not merely diplomatic—it is ideological. Both favor state-centered development, managed dissent, and a rhetorical posture of anti-imperialism.
They are not simply partners. They are comrades.
Trump and Sheinbaum, by contrast, have never met. The one Western leader willing to confront cartel power directly has no diplomatic channel with Mexico’s president. That vacuum speaks volumes.
6. Washington’s Failure to Adapt
Ambassador Ronald Johnson is a serious and seasoned diplomat—respected across party lines for his intellect, cultural fluency, and strategic instincts. His deep grasp of Latin American dynamics, unwavering commitment to democratic values, and steady presence in Mexico have made him one of the most capable U.S. envoys in recent memory—standing in the distinguished tradition of Ambassador Christopher Landau, with whom he shares both vision and friendship. His bilingual messaging and symbolic gestures—such as standing with Paracho’s artisans—reflect both cultural sensitivity and strategic intent.
But in the contest for hemispheric influence, even the finest diplomacy can be outpaced by algorithmic warfare. Johnson has been tasked with waging a 21st-century information war using 20th-century tools. While he crafts messages rooted in principle and builds genuine goodwill, Beijing operates with asymmetry—deploying irony, local appropriation, and narrative disruption with tactical precision.
Johnson is fighting with skill, clarity, and conviction—but without the full arsenal of tools that the moment demands.
7. Mexicans Want Justice, Not Diplomacy
The U.S. continues to rely on modest tools: visa revocations, quiet lobbying, and cultural exchange. But what the Mexican public craves isn’t symbolism—it’s disruption of impunity.
When Washington revoked visas for governors suspected of cartel ties, the ripple effects were immediate. No bombs. No pressers. Just a fracture in the illusion of untouchability.
Imagine, then, what could happen if the U.S. worked—quietly but decisively—with elite Mexican units, financial regulators, and drone capabilities to dismantle cartel infrastructure surgically. No occupation. No headlines. Just accountability.
In a hybrid war, kinetic action can be symbolic. And symbolism—when backed by results—restores trust.
8. The Anthem and the Paradox
Sheinbaum speaks often of sovereignty. She invokes the anthem’s sacred line: “Mas si osare un extraño enemigo profanar con su planta tu suelo…”—if a foreign enemy dares to tread upon your soil. But what if the enemy no longer marches with boots, but moves through fiber optics, narco alliances, and encrypted logistics?
The United States doesn’t need to “set foot” on Mexican soil to help defend it. It can offer tactical intelligence, coordinate with vetted forces, and deploy unmanned technology with surgical precision.
Drones don’t leave footprints. Justice doesn’t need parades. In today’s battlefield, sovereignty can be preserved not by rejection—but by reinforcement.
This is the paradox Sheinbaum must resolve. And it is the challenge Washington must meet.
Because the fight for Mexico is no longer theoretical. The corridor between Central and North America is already in play. The window for influence is narrowing. And if the U.S. doesn’t act—not just with words, but with strategic resolve—it won’t just lose a neighbor. It will lose the hemisphere’s geopolitical hinge.