On a crisp November morning in Uruapan, Mexico, the city’s central plaza—usually alive with the colors and sounds of Day of the Dead festivities—was instead shrouded in grief and tension. Candles flickered in memory of Mayor Carlos Manzo, an outspoken critic of organized crime, whose assassination on November 1, 2025, sent shockwaves throughout the nation. His death, brazenly carried out during one of Mexico’s most cherished holidays, has not only left a community reeling but has also ignited a series of events that have reverberated far beyond the city’s borders.
Just weeks after the killing, the plaza still bears the marks of mourning: notes expressing sadness and demanding justice hang from lampposts, and the air is thick with both sorrow and anger. According to The Associated Press, on Friday, November 25, authorities made a dramatic move, arresting seven members of Manzo’s own security detail—bodyguards who were supposed to protect him—on suspicion of their involvement in his murder. State and federal agents, along with soldiers and National Guard troops, led the suspects out of a city building, only steps away from the very spot where Manzo was gunned down by a teenage assailant.
The Michoacan state prosecutor’s office confirmed in a brief statement that the seven public officials were arrested for “their likely participation in aggravated homicide.” An official, speaking anonymously to The Associated Press, revealed that all seven had served as Manzo’s bodyguards. The arrests came after suspicion mounted over their failure to stop the lone gunman—and even more so when it emerged that the gunman had been shot dead by members of the security detail after he had already been subdued on the ground.
For Manzo’s team, the arrests were a gut-wrenching spectacle. Members of his staff, now also working for his widow—who was sworn in as mayor following his death—recorded the arrests, some openly weeping as colleagues were taken away. Two individuals, speaking under the condition of anonymity out of fear for their safety, told The Associated Press that among those arrested were members of Manzo’s inner circle, fueling a sense of betrayal and deepening the wound left by his loss.
The official investigation has already established links to the powerful Jalisco New Generation Cartel, one of the most feared criminal organizations operating in Michoacan. Just a day before the bodyguards’ arrests, Mexican authorities had announced the apprehension of a man believed to be involved in planning and ordering the killing, further tying the plot to cartel interests.
Manzo, whose popularity soared on social media thanks to his unflinching criticism of organized crime and the country’s ruling elite, had become a symbol of resistance. His videos, in which he called out the government for failing to take on the cartels, resonated with a public weary of violence and impunity. According to Breitbart Texas, his murder galvanized thousands, sparking a wave of protests not only in Uruapan but also in Mexico City, where demonstrators demanded an end to what they called the “narco-government.”
The aftermath of Manzo’s assassination was immediate and intense. Rioters in Michoacán attempted to set fire to the governor’s palace and other local city halls, a visceral reaction to what many saw as the state’s failure to protect its own leaders. The unrest soon spread, culminating in a nationwide protest on November 24, 2025, as thousands of farmers and transportation workers took to the streets across at least 22 states. Their method was direct and disruptive: blockading major highways with work trucks and tractor-trailers, they brought traffic to a standstill—even causing delays at international border crossings.
These protests, organized by unions of transportation workers and farmers, were a response to the escalating violence and extortion at the hands of cartels. As Breitbart Texas reported, in the border state of Tamaulipas, officials were forced to warn motorists to take alternate routes as blockades snarled traffic. The demonstrators’ message was unequivocal: highway robberies, carjackings, and extortion have become daily hazards, and the government’s response has been woefully inadequate. Farmers in particular lamented that they are routinely targeted by criminal groups, with little hope for protection or justice from authorities who, they allege, rarely act against organized crime.
The timing of the protests was no coincidence. They followed closely on the heels of the massive demonstration in Mexico City, which itself was a direct response to Manzo’s murder. The killing of a mayor who dared to speak out against the cartels—and the subsequent arrest of his own bodyguards—became a rallying point for citizens fed up with a security crisis that shows no sign of abating.
The pressure on President Claudia Sheinbaum and her administration has only intensified. Critics have accused Sheinbaum and the ruling MORENA party of turning a blind eye to cartel activities, or worse, of actively protecting criminal organizations. In the wake of Manzo’s assassination and the subsequent unrest, Sheinbaum announced Plan Michoacan, a sweeping initiative that combines increased social spending with a significant military presence. The plan calls for the deployment of 10,000 troops across the state in an effort to wrest control from the cartels and restore public confidence.
But for many, the question remains: will this new strategy be enough? The government’s emphasis on social programs is seen by some as a necessary step toward addressing the root causes of crime—poverty, lack of opportunity, and social exclusion. Yet others argue that without a more aggressive crackdown on the cartels themselves, such measures risk being little more than window dressing.
Meanwhile, the mood in Uruapan is one of cautious defiance. The central plaza, still adorned with tributes to Manzo, has become a focal point for both grief and resistance. Residents continue to gather, lighting candles and leaving messages that speak to a yearning for justice and a safer future. The memory of Manzo—his courage, his willingness to challenge the status quo—looms large, serving as both a warning and an inspiration.
Across Mexico, the events of November 2025 have laid bare the country’s deep-seated struggles with organized crime and government accountability. The arrest of those entrusted with protecting a mayor, only to find them implicated in his murder, has shaken public trust to its core. And as protests continue to ripple across the nation, one thing is clear: the demand for justice, security, and genuine reform is not going away anytime soon.
For now, the candles in Uruapan’s plaza burn on, a quiet testament to a city—and a country—determined not to let the memory of Carlos Manzo fade into the darkness.
