Californians with deep ties to Jalisco rattled by cartel violence and fears of bloody power struggle

Two days after Mexican forces killed the leader of the Jalisco New Generation cartel last month, Gladys Uribe was in her California home, anxiously monitoring her parents’ movements in Mexico.
The capture and death of the world’s most wanted drug trafficker — Nemesio Rubén “El Mencho” Oseguera Cervantes — sparked violent reprisals that spread from Jalisco to other states, leaving highways blocked, businesses and vehicles burned, and 25 members of the Mexican National Guard dead.
The eruption of violence lasted just over a day, but it shook much of Los Angeles, where ties run deep with Jalisco, and many Jalisciences and their descendants prepare for more chaos at home as the fractured cartel’s rivals vie for power.
Tens of thousands of Angeleños worry about their families in Jalisco, while those in the U.S. without papers fear being drawn into Trump’s immigration crackdown and sent back to a place where deportees are often targeted by cartels.
Mexican National Guard troops clear pedestrians near the Mexico City Attorney General’s headquarters February 22 following the death of Jalisco New Generation Cartel leader Nemesio Ruben Oseguera Cervantes, known as “El Mencho.”
(Ginette Riquelme/Associated Press)
Uribe frantically monitored the February 22 uprising through text messages, video calls and social media.
Her parents, aunt and uncle, who were in Jalisco, have since returned to the United States, but she and other families fear a bloody power struggle in the cartel like the one that cost many civilian lives during the fracturing of the Sinaloa cartel in 2024.
“In the short term, I think things are going to get more violent,” Uribe said. “In the past, when a cartel appeared weak, other cartels would try to encroach on their territory. »
Alex Martinez, who has family in Jalisco, said some of his aunts, uncles and cousins in Zapopan, near Guadalajara, are afraid to go out while the cartel is in crisis.
“It’s like that saying: If you cut the head off a snake, more heads will grow,” he said. “The main hope is that there will be a smooth transition of power.”
Gladdys Uribe shows phone calls between her and her mother on February 22, the day Mexican armed forces killed “El Mencho.”
(Kayla Bartkowski/Los Angeles Times)
The violence puts additional pressure on mixed-status families in the United States with ties to Mexico, many of whom face deportation under the Trump administration.
“I have family that wants to come, but with the whole ICE situation here, it makes it complicated,” Martinez said. “And this is a family seeking to do it legally.”
The administration also placed a restriction on the number of foreign nationals who can enter the country by revoke Or refuse tourist visas, as well as increasing immigration fees.
Ingrid Eagly, a law professor at UCLA, said the combination of cartel violence and stricter immigration policies creates uncertainty for immigrants.
“Many people who are deported have currently lived in the United States for 10 to 20 years,” she said. “And so going back to a place that they haven’t been to since they were kids, a place with all this violence, I think, would only cause more instability.”
She said general threats of cartel-related violence would be insufficient for people to seek asylum.
“This can make it more difficult for people to leave, even if it’s just for a short time.”
Migration from Jalisco to California and other states dates back to the late 1800s with the construction and expansion of railroad networks in Mexico and the United States.
A soldier stands guard near a charred vehicle after it was set on fire in Cointzio, Mexico, following the death of “El Mencho” in February.
(Armando Solis/Associated Press)
The number of people migrating north grew as many fled the violence of the Mexican Revolution and the Cristero War, and continued with the Bracero program, according to James Schmal of Indigenous Mexico, an online resource about Mexico’s indigenous peoples, their history and genealogy.
Jalisco, a state in western Mexico, is home to many Los Angeles staples: mariachi music, tequila, charreadas (rodeos) and Jalisco-style cuisine that includes Birria (spicy goat or beef stew) and torta ahogada (a Mexican sandwich dipped in salsa).
Los Angeles serves as an extension of home for Jalisciences, which have had a considerable influence on the composition of the city’s culinary and cultural landscape. Countless restaurants are named after the state, such as Birrieria Jalisco and Mariscos Jalisco. Mariachis are a city staple, playing at quinceañeras, weddings, birthday parties and meeting at venues such as Olvera Street downtown and Mariachi Plaza in Boyle Heights.
Although the number of people with roots in Jalisco is not known, the state is often cited as one of the largest sources of Mexican immigration to California, where as many as 13 million people identify as being of Mexican descent, according to estimates from the 2024 American Community Survey.
The connection goes both ways. Thousands of American expats live in Guadalajara, Puerto Vallarta and the communities along the shores of Lake Chapala – and many more American tourists visit.
This summer, Guadalajara will host some World Cup matches hosted in Mexico, the United States and Canada. The stadium, however, is in Zapopan.
Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum tried to allay security concerns about the tournament.
“There is no risk,” Sheinbaum said at a press conference on February 24. “Our goal is security and peace, and that’s what we’re working toward.”
Over the past year and a half, she has reported significant progress in reducing violence in Mexico, reporting a decrease in homicide rate of 42% from September 2024 to January 2026.
But many wonder how long this relative peace can last.
Martinez highlighted the rise in violence after the capture of Mexican and American authorities Ishmaël “El Mayo” Zambada And Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán, former leaders of the Sinaloa Cartel. He added that violence often stops when a new leader emerges.
“It’s a recurring situation with cartels,” he said.
For years, Jalisco has experienced low levels of violence compared to other Mexican states. But that began to change with the formation of the Jalisco New Generation (CJNG) cartel around 2009.
The cartel was one of two factions that broke away from the Milenio Cartel, which had roots in Michoacan and Jalisco in the late 1970s. A turf war ensued and CJNG emerged victorious, taking control of the smuggling networks in the region.
The CJNG has become known for its cruelty and violent military-style tactics, carrying out deadly attacks against security forces, including shooting down an army helicopter using rocket-propelled grenades in 2015. Homicides and kidnappings have increased in Jalisco. A key supplier of fentanyl, the cartel also profited from human trafficking, extortion and fuel theft. The United States has designated it a foreign terrorist organization.
The uprising sparked by Oseguera’s death highlighted the cartel’s reach across Mexico.
When violence broke out last month, Martinez tried to find his grandfather, who was eventually found safe in Michoacan.
Gladys’ friend Elizabeth Uribe watched over her parents throughout the day as they sheltered in a hotel in Rincón de Guayabitos, a beach town not far from Puerto Vallarta.
She stuck to traditional media to avoid misinformation being shared by her family and on social media.
She said her niece’s godmother was forced off a bus by cartel gunmen before it was set on fire. Even though her parents returned safely to the United States, she remains worried about her father’s family in Guadalajara and Puerto Vallarta.
“They have no choice, they just have to go back to work and hope for the best,” she said.
Gladys Uribe, center, with her daughters Ximena Bautista, 7, left, and Shaila Bautista, 14, in Los Angeles.
(Kayla Bartkowski/Los Angeles Times)
Gladdys Uribe said her parents were traveling to Etzatlán, where cartel gunmen and teenagers on motorcycles set fire to a gas station, a state-owned bank and dozens of vehicles. She said police and firefighters were nowhere to be found.
When her parents arrived in the city, she said, they saw people closing their businesses and fleeing. They checked into a hotel and waited for the violence to pass. Smoke was coming into the room from the street, and they could hear gunshots in the distance and cars exploding.
Uribe registered his parents in the Smart Traveler Enrollment Program, or STEP. The federal program sends enrollees updates and alerts from U.S. embassies and consulates abroad.
Uribe and Elizabeth Uribe, who are not related, felt that Sheinbaum and other government officials had been too quick to declare that things were returning to normal and provided a false sense of security.
“My parents were angry,” she says. “Everyone was scared and sheltering in place, and I also felt anger because I felt like we couldn’t trust what they were saying, like they were trying to protect their tourism interests and they were trying to protect the World Cup.”
They boarded a plane in Guadalajara on Thursday and Uribe gave them a big hug as they walked through the front door of his Los Angeles home.
“I told them I was taking their passports for a while,” she said with a laugh.
At home, sitting in the living room near her daughters, Uribe said she is still processing what happened and reexamining her relationship with Mexico.
“It’s always felt like a place that holds a special place in my heart,” she said. “I feel very rooted in it and I always wanted it to be a part of my children’s lives.”
She said she canceled a family trip to celebrate her eldest daughter’s 15th birthday in southern Mexico.
The past year has been difficult for many Latinos, but especially for Mexicans and Mexican Americans.
“It’s like in Mexico, people are afraid of narcos, and here, even for those of us who were born here, we are careful when we leave our house,” she said. “We started carrying our passports everywhere.
“We’re not safe there and we’re not safe here, obviously in a different way.”



