In every society where uncertainty shakes the pillars of governance, the judiciary must remain the last bastion of hope; the symbol of justice, fairness, and the enduring promise that truth can prevail. The gravity of judicial responsibility cannot be overstated. Courts, particularly the Supreme Court, are not merely arbiters of disputes but the ultimate interpreters of the law, guardians of constitutions, and protectors of rights. Their pronouncements shape jurisprudence, influence democratic integrity, and safeguard social order. For this reason, the sanctity of the courts rests squarely on public faith in their wisdom, objectivity, and independence.
It is for this reason that I vehemently oppose the dangerous experiment Mexico has embarked upon: electing judges through popular vote. On September 1, 2025, Mexico swore in more than 800 judges, from the Supreme Court down to state tribunals; chosen not by rigorous vetting and professional merit, but by electoral campaigns. In one stroke, over 2,600 sitting judges were removed, and thousands more will follow in 2027. This radical overhaul, packaged as “judicial reform,” is nothing less than judicial capture by political forces and a direct assault on the very foundation of the rule of law.
The election of judges is not reform; it is regression. Judges are not politicians, and their duty is not to please constituencies or pander to electoral whims. Their sacred role requires insulation from politics, independence from partisan interest, and freedom from the poisonous influence of money, crime, and electoral manipulation. Once judges are elected like politicians, they inevitably become politicians in robes, subject to campaign financiers, party bosses, and, in Mexico’s case, the overwhelming shadow of organised crime.
The consequences of this reckless model are already clear. Reports have emerged of judicial candidates with direct ties to criminal cartels being elected; some were even attorneys for notorious drug lords. During the campaign period, candidates were threatened, attacked, and in some cases killed by cartels. Citizens were coerced into voting for cartel-sponsored candidates in areas under criminal control. This is not judicial reform, it is judicial compromise. It means that the very institution meant to shield society from lawlessness has now been penetrated by the forces of lawlessness itself.
Supporters of Mexico’s reform argue that direct elections will make judges “accountable to the people.” But this is a dangerous fallacy. Accountability in the judiciary does not come through campaign promises or electoral manifestos; it comes through transparent appointments, merit-based promotions, professional discipline, and the solemn oath to the constitution. Popular elections, on the contrary, expose judges to political bargaining, populist pressures, and the corrupting influence of campaign money. Judges who must campaign for votes cannot be impartial. They cannot resist the interests of those who funded them. They cannot faithfully protect minorities or unpopular causes if such decisions threaten their re-election.
Mexico’s case further exposes the chaos of this model: inexperienced candidates, some with only law degrees and no judicial background, now sit on the Supreme Court. Years of institutional knowledge have been discarded, replaced with erratic, populist-driven judicial appointments. In one election, states had only a single candidate running unopposed for judicial seats, elected without scrutiny, even with a single vote. Worse still, election funding was poorly managed, with voting materials scarce, results delayed, and confidence in the process eroded. How can a judiciary born from chaos deliver justice?
The deeper danger is that such electoral reforms may become a template for other countries, particularly developing nations already struggling with weak institutions. If judicial elections are exported beyond Mexico, it could set a destructive precedent: executives in fragile democracies may hijack the rhetoric of “people’s accountability” to dismantle judicial independence and consolidate authoritarian control. It would embolden populist leaders who see the judiciary not as a partner in justice but as an obstacle to power. The ripple effects would be catastrophic, leading to politicised courts across the developing world where judges serve rulers, not the rule of law.
Furthermore, the Mexican model ignores the core principle that justice is not a matter of popularity but of principle. The law often demands unpopular decisions;bwhether to protect minorities, to check government excesses, or to defend rights that the majority may oppose. Elected judges, dependent on the applause of the crowd, may shy away from bold, principled rulings in order to protect their seats. The result is a judiciary that mirrors the passions of the moment instead of upholding enduring constitutional values. Such a judiciary may win elections, but it will lose legitimacy, and with it, the trust of generations.
The irony is glaring. Mexico embarked on this judicial experiment under the pretext of fighting corruption and impunity. But corruption is not cured by politicising the courts; it is only deepened. Impunity is not reduced by handing the judiciary to the ballot box; it is entrenched when criminals manipulate ballots to enthrone their loyalists in robes.
The tragedy is that this is not just Mexico’s problem, it is a cautionary tale for the world. Electing judges is an existential threat to judicial independence. It blurs the sacred line between politics and justice, undermines the balance of powers, and leaves the courts vulnerable to the very corruption, partisanship, and violence they are meant to resist.
If the judiciary is the last hope of the common man, then judicial elections are its betrayal. A poorly constructed judiciary will inflict deep and lasting damage on the national psyche, sow seeds of cynicism, erode faith in the rule of law, and embolden criminality. In truth, what Mexico has witnessed is not reform but judicial capture, designed not to strengthen democracy but to weaken the only institution capable of checking executive excesses.
Judges must never be elected. They must be appointed on merit, shielded from politics, and accountable only to the law and the constitution. To make them creatures of the ballot is to reduce justice to a popularity contest, expose courts to the poisonous influence of cartels, and bury the principle of impartiality under the weight of political expediency.
The Mexican experiment should serve as a global warning: once the judiciary is politicised, democracy itself begins to wither.
– Onogwu Muhammed, Esq., is a lawyer, public relations professional, and holder of a Master’s degree in International Affairs and Diplomacy. His work explores the intersection of law, communication, governance, and society.
