Sheinbaum’s Legal Reforms Threaten Mexican Rights

MEXICO CITY — On September 15, 2025, as the nation prepared for the traditional Cry of Independence ceremony, President Claudia Sheinbaum used the solemnity of the date to send an initiative to the Senate seeking to modify three key pieces of Mexico's legal framework: the Amparo Law, the Federal Tax Code, and the Organic Law of the Federal Court of Administrative Justice.

At first glance, the proposal is presented as an effort to modernize and streamline judicial processes. But upon closer analysis, the outlook changes: it is a project with a strong "pro-authority" bias that erodes the protective character of the amparo trial and restricts fundamental human rights.

The amparo is the cornerstone of Mexican constitutionalism and has been the instrument that allows any citizen to defend themselves against arbitrary acts of public power. It is a modern tool aligned with international standards and the American Convention on Human Rights. Sheinbaum's initiative, however, represents a retreat on several fronts. It introduces restrictions, raises thresholds, and strengthens the authority at the expense of the citizen. In a country where abuses of power are not isolated episodes but frequent practices, these changes threaten to leave thousands of people defenseless.

The most relevant changes proposed by this ignominious reform include new standards for "legitimate interest," which will require that the alleged injury be "real, current, and differentiated" and that its annulment cause a "certain, direct, and non-hypothetical benefit." This wording toughens the standard for proceeding, bringing it dangerously close to the classic legal interest, and closes the door to collective lawsuits or lawsuits of diffuse interest, such as those concerning environmental, economic competition, or transparency issues.

The suspension—a key precautionary measure—is transformed into a more restrictive mechanism. New grounds for inadmissibility linked to "public order" are added, suspensions with general effects are prohibited, and their validity is conditioned on the posting of guarantees within rigid deadlines. The prohibition is even expanded in matters of telecommunications and economic competition.

The expansion of the lawsuit is now proposed to only proceed in specific, predefined scenarios. This prohibits reacting to connected acts discovered afterward, weakening the possibility of providing a comprehensive response to continuous violations. New rules of celerity are also proposed, allowing a sentence to take up to 60 natural days after the constitutional hearing, effectively creating delay on the merits of the case.

In tax matters, for the execution of firm credits, amparo would only proceed until the auction call is convened. This defers judicial control until the damage is practically consummated.

Regarding compliance with sentences, fines for non-compliance are now transferred from the responsible official to the public body. Furthermore, it is permitted to allege "legal or material impossibility" to exempt oneself from responsibility. This, in practice, incentivizes contempt: the sanctions would be paid with public treasury resources, meaning with taxpayers' money.

All this generates risks for human rights. Among the most serious are the limitation of access to justice. The standard of "certain and direct benefit" limits the possibility of defending collective interests. Emblematic cases such as environmental defense against the Tren Maya or the demand for medicines in the health system would be left out.

There is a reduction of effective precautionary tutelage. The suspension, conceived as a shield against irreparable damage, is emptied of content. The expansive use of the concept of "public order" will allow for the denial of protection in sensitive areas such as the freezing of accounts, public debt, or the revocation of concessions.

In tax matters, the prohibition of amparo until the auction stage contradicts the principle of preventing irreparable harm. Taxpayers will face consummated damages before being able to go to a judge.

In the compliance of sentences, by exempting officials from personal responsibility and transferring fines to the public budget, the binding force of judicial resolutions is weakened. In cases such as non-compliance with suspensions related to the Tren Maya, the initiative practically legalizes contumacy.

This is undoubtedly a step backward in constitutional evolution. Since the 2011 reform, Mexican constitutional justice had taken important steps toward a more guarantor model, with openness to collective rights and a pro-person vision. This initiative represents a 180-degree turn in a negative sense.

The official discourse insists that the changes seek to prevent abuses, stop amparos from halting projects of public interest, and guarantee administrative efficiency. However, in a constitutional democracy, the efficiency of the government can never be above the protection of fundamental rights.

The initiative is not limited to perfecting procedures: it redefines the balance between authority and citizen in favor of power. And it does so at a time when the Executive is concentrating more and more faculties, following reforms to elect judges and ministers by popular vote and the reduction of institutional counterweights. The authoritarian face of the State is revealed.

The most worrying aspect is not the procedural technicalities, but the vision of the State that underlies them. A State that limits access to amparo, that conditions suspension, that postpones tax justice, and that relativizes the obligation to comply with sentences is a State that assumes authoritarian traits.

The message is clear: large infrastructure projects, fiscal decisions, and public policies should not be stopped or questioned by uncomfortable judges or by citizens claiming their rights. In other words, the initiative seeks to shield power from judicial scrutiny.

Constitutional history teaches that every time the amparo is weakened, authoritarianism is strengthened. This happened during the Porfiriato, when federal justice was complicit with the regime; and it was attempted in post-revolutionary Mexico, when the availability of amparo was restricted to consolidate presidential hegemony. Today, under the banner of the Fourth Transformation, history is repeating itself.

What is at stake is not minor, nor can it be compensated with checks or scholarships from the Bienestar program. Sheinbaum's initiative is not a simple procedural reform: it is a redefinition of the model of constitutional justice in Mexico.

At stake are the right of access to justice; the effectiveness of precautionary measures, key to preventing irreparable damage; the binding force of amparo sentences, which could be diluted into inoperability; and the protection of collective interests, increasingly relevant in a country marked by environmental, health, and transparency crises.

The amparo trial must be defended; it does not belong to a government, nor to a party, nor to a president. It is the democratic patrimony of Mexicans, a historical conquest of generations that fought against the abuse of power. To limit it is to limit citizenship itself.

The initiative is disguised as modernization, but in reality, it represents a dangerous step backward. If approved without substantial changes, it would consolidate a model of constitutional justice subordinated to the Executive, the exact opposite of what a modern democracy demands.

Now more than ever, it is up to civil society, academia, bar associations, and the judges themselves to raise their voices. This is not about legal technicalities: it is about deciding what country we want to live in. One where the citizen can look the State in the eye, with the certainty that there is a judge to protect them; or one where the authority always has the last word, even at the expense of the Constitution.