On a chilly Friday in New York, the world of law enforcement and international drug policy collided with a jolt: Paul Campo, a retired high-ranking agent of the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA), and his associate Robert Sensi, stood accused of conspiring to launder millions for one of Mexico’s most notorious drug cartels and plotting to arm them with military-grade weaponry. The indictment, unsealed December 5, 2025, alleges that Campo and Sensi agreed to launder about $12 million for the Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG)—an organization recently designated by the U.S. as a foreign terrorist entity—and even attempted to secure drones, rifles, and explosives for its operations.
This case, as reported by the Associated Press, has sent shockwaves through both sides of the border. Campo, 61, who retired from the DEA in 2016 after a 25-year career, and Sensi, 75, of Boca Raton, Florida, were both caught in a sting operation involving a law enforcement informant posing as a CJNG member. Prosecutors say the pair converted approximately $750,000 in cash to cryptocurrency, believing it was destined for the cartel. They also arranged a payment for 220 kilograms of cocaine—worth about $5 million—expecting a share of the proceeds. In conversations with the informant, Campo boasted about his law enforcement experience and even offered to serve as a “strategist” for the cartel.
"Campo betrayed his DEA career by helping the cartel, which was responsible for countless deaths through violence and drug trafficking in the United States and Mexico," U.S. Attorney Jay Clayton stated, underscoring the gravity of the charges. Evidence against the men includes hours of recorded conversations, cellphone location data, emails, and surveillance images, according to Assistant U.S. Attorney Varun Gumaste.
The indictment paints a picture of two men who, far from being coerced, actively explored obtaining commercial drones, AR-15 semiautomatic rifles, M4 carbines, grenade launchers, and even rocket-propelled grenades for the cartel. Campo, who began his DEA career in New York and rose to deputy chief of financial operations, now faces charges that threaten to overshadow his decades of public service.
CJNG, the cartel at the heart of this case, has grown infamous for its ruthlessness and reach. In February 2025, the U.S. officially designated it a foreign terrorist organization—a move that marked a new chapter in the cross-border fight against organized crime. The cartel’s operations have contributed to a wave of violence that has left both U.S. and Mexican communities reeling.
Campo and Sensi appeared before a magistrate judge in New York on December 5, where they were ordered detained without bail. Both pleaded not guilty. Mark Gombiner, Campo’s lawyer, dismissed the indictment as “somewhat sensationalized and somewhat incoherent,” denying that the two men had agreed to procure weapons for the cartel. Sensi’s attorney, Amanda Kramer, argued unsuccessfully for his release, citing his multiple health issues—including injuries from a recent fall, early-stage dementia, and Type II diabetes. Sensi’s criminal history, which includes convictions for mail fraud and government theft, only complicated his case. Prosecutors also allege Sensi was previously involved in a scheme to obtain military helicopters for a Middle Eastern country.
While the courtroom drama unfolded in the U.S., the larger context of cartel violence and international cooperation loomed large. The DEA, rocked in recent years by scandals involving at least 16 agents facing federal charges for offenses ranging from drug trafficking to leaking intelligence, has attempted to tighten internal controls. Since 2021, the agency has implemented stricter oversight on money laundering stings and warned agents that serious misconduct could now result in immediate dismissal—a stark shift from past practices.
Meanwhile, the debate over how best to confront Mexico’s powerful cartels has intensified. According to Los Angeles Times, former President Trump has repeatedly threatened U.S. military action against Mexican cartels, declaring in November, “We know the addresses of every drug lord.” While Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum has staunchly opposed any foreign military intervention—insisting, “It’s not going to happen. We don’t want intervention by any foreign government”—public sentiment in Mexico is far from unified.
Recent polls by Mitofsky and El Financiero reveal that over half of Mexicans support U.S. authorities entering Mexican territory to fight organized crime, and about a third even favor U.S. military deployment. Many Mexicans, frustrated by decades of violence and failed security strategies, have grown skeptical of their government’s ability to tackle cartels alone. “It’s very embarrassing to say that Mexico can’t do it alone,” admitted José Santillán, a resident of Mexico City. “But the situation with the drug cartels has clearly spiraled out of control. A powerful army is needed to confront them. And the United States has one.”
The assassination of Michoacán state Mayor Carlos Manzo in late October 2025 by suspected cartel members only intensified calls among some Mexicans for U.S. intervention. Manzo, who had publicly advocated for a take-no-prisoners approach to cartel violence, was mourned as a martyr after his killing. “Let the Americans come so this hell that so many families in Mexico are experiencing can finally end,” said Ricardo Marcial Pérez, a Mexico City resident.
The U.S. has not been a passive observer. Since 2007, Washington has provided roughly $3 billion in security aid to Mexico under the Mérida Initiative, offering helicopters, police training, and support for justice system reforms. While Sheinbaum has rekindled some cooperation with the U.S.—including extraditing suspected cartel members and allowing U.S. surveillance drones in Mexican airspace—she remains firm in defending Mexican sovereignty.
Yet, the debate rages on. Critics of U.S. intervention point to the so-called “kingpin strategy,” which prioritized killing or capturing cartel leaders but often led to further fragmentation and violence. Michoacán, once the epicenter of Mexico’s military campaign against cartels, is now carved up by warring gangs and self-defense groups, with ordinary citizens caught in the crossfire. As one lime farmer lamented, “We can’t wait 50 years for a prevention or intelligence strategy. We need to be more frontal.”
As for the U.S. justice system, the Campo and Sensi case is a stark reminder of the challenges facing law enforcement agencies on both sides of the border. DEA Administrator Terrance Cole acknowledged that, although Campo is no longer with the agency, such allegations “undermine trust in law enforcement.” The agency’s recent reforms signal a desire to restore credibility, but the road ahead remains fraught with complexity.
Ultimately, the intertwining of American and Mexican efforts against drug cartels continues to spark fierce debate over sovereignty, security, and the limits of international cooperation. With violence still rampant and public trust in institutions wavering, the search for effective—and ethical—solutions remains as urgent as ever.
