In a move that’s set to shake up the skies between the United States and Mexico, U.S. Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy has officially revoked the antitrust immunity that’s long allowed Delta Air Lines and Aeromexico to operate as close partners. The decision, announced on September 16, 2025, will force the two airlines to dissolve their joint venture by January 1, 2026—a partnership that’s been in place since 2016 and has shaped travel for millions of passengers on both sides of the border.
The heart of the dispute? Duffy contends that Mexico has tilted the playing field in favor of its domestic carriers by restricting passenger and cargo flights into Mexico City, a move he says violates trade agreements and undermines fair competition for U.S. airlines. "Empty promises mean nothing. After years of taking advantage of the U.S. and our carriers, we need to see definitive action by Mexico that levels the playing field and restores fairness," Duffy declared, according to Atlanta News First and the Associated Press.
This airline standoff is just the latest chapter in a broader economic tug-of-war between the two countries, which have sparred over tariffs and border security throughout President Donald Trump’s administration. But the aviation angle brings the fight home for travelers and businesses who rely on the busy U.S.-Mexico corridor—Mexico was the top foreign destination for Americans last year, with more than 40 million passengers crossing the border by air, as reported by Cirium, an aviation analytics firm.
At the center of the controversy is Mexico’s decision in 2022 to force airlines to shift cargo operations from the bustling Benito Juarez International Airport, close to Mexico City’s heart, to the newer Felipe Angeles International Airport, located more than 30 miles away. The transfer, which can add up to 2.5 hours’ drive for travelers and cargo alike, was billed by Mexican authorities as a technical necessity to relieve congestion at Benito Juarez. Yet, critics—including Duffy—see it as a move that disproportionately benefits Mexican carriers, especially since promised construction at Benito Juarez has yet to materialize.
Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum, responding to Duffy’s July warning before the official revocation, defended the decision as a matter of safety and logistics, not international rivalry. "There is no reason to impose any sanctions related to this matter," Sheinbaum stated, emphasizing that the shift was not aimed at penalizing U.S. airlines but was about managing airport congestion. She acknowledged that some U.S. companies voiced complaints when the change took effect but insisted, "they adapted to the new situation."
Despite Sheinbaum’s assurances, Duffy remained unconvinced, pointing to the reduction in available slots at Benito Juarez for both passenger and cargo flights—a squeeze that, he argues, has given Mexican airlines an edge and left U.S. carriers at a disadvantage. The Department of Transportation’s order, which will take effect at the start of 2026, means Delta and Aeromexico must wind down their joint pricing, scheduling, and revenue-sharing arrangements. However, they can still cooperate on less sensitive activities, such as codesharing, marketing, and frequent flyer programs. Delta will also retain its equity stake in Aeromexico, and both airlines can maintain their existing routes between the two countries, at least for now.
For travelers, the immediate impact might seem muted—no changes to flights or loyalty programs are expected before January. But both airlines warn that the long-term consequences could be severe. In regulatory filings, Delta and Aeromexico estimate that the loss of direct flights could deter over 140,000 American tourists and nearly 90,000 Mexican tourists from visiting the other country each year. That’s a lot of missed vacations, business trips, and—crucially—economic activity. "This decision will cause significant harm to U.S. jobs, communities and consumers traveling between the U.S. and Mexico," a Delta spokesperson said, echoing concerns that ripple far beyond the runways.
Aeromexico, for its part, lamented that the order "overlooks the benefits that the alliance has brought to connectivity, tourism, and consumers in Mexico." The two carriers argue that their partnership has not stifled competition. In fact, they point to the growth of rivals like Viva and Volaris, which expanded their presence at Benito Juarez after Interjet went out of business during the pandemic. Aeromexico itself snapped up half of Interjet’s slots, further cementing its position in Mexico City. Still, the airlines maintain that their alliance has been a net positive for travelers and economies on both sides of the border.
The political backdrop to this aviation spat is hard to ignore. The Trump administration’s aggressive stance on trade, tariffs, and border security has set the tone for U.S.-Mexico relations in recent years. The airline dispute, while technical on its surface, taps into deeper anxieties about fairness, sovereignty, and economic opportunity. Duffy’s move is widely seen as an assertion of U.S. leverage, a signal that Washington won’t tolerate what it perceives as one-sided deals—even if the fallout lands on everyday travelers and businesses.
Not everyone is convinced that dissolving the joint venture is the right answer. Delta and Aeromexico, while disappointed, have not yet decided whether to challenge the order in court or through diplomatic channels. They argue that punishing private companies for government decisions sets a dangerous precedent, and that the real losers may be the consumers and workers who depend on robust, reliable air service across the border.
Meanwhile, Mexican officials remain firm in their stance. Sheinbaum continues to insist that operational decisions at Mexico City’s airports are guided by technical and safety considerations, not international politics. The government’s position is that the transfer to Felipe Angeles was necessary to address chronic congestion at Benito Juarez, and that any future changes should be based on sound technical criteria, not external pressure.
As for the broader market, the shakeup could open the door for other carriers to step in and capture market share. With Delta and Aeromexico no longer able to coordinate as closely, competitors like Viva and Volaris—already expanding in Mexico City—may find new opportunities to grow. Whether that leads to more choices and better prices for travelers remains to be seen.
For now, the clock is ticking. The Department of Transportation’s order will become effective in January 2026, giving Delta, Aeromexico, and their customers a few more months of business as usual. After that, the skies between the U.S. and Mexico could look very different—less coordinated, perhaps, but also more contested. One thing’s for sure: in the world of international aviation, even a technical decision can have far-reaching consequences.
With both sides holding firm and the future of cross-border travel hanging in the balance, all eyes will be on what happens next—both in the air and at the negotiating table.
