The judicial reform has already been approved. The government presented it as a historic transformation of the Mexican justice system, as proof that the country is moving towards a new rule of law. But it is enough to look at the case of Roberto González to understand that, behind the official rhetoric, little has changed.
In January 2017, Roberto was brutally attacked in Playa del Carmen by Rodrigo Galán Gutiérrezwith the participation of María Fernanda Salcedo Medrano, in an attack that left him quadriplegic for life. In a matter of minutes, an absurd attack destroyed his mobility, transformed his existence and changed his family’s life forever.
But the violence did not end there.
Then came another, slower and more bureaucratic one: almost a decade of litigation, appeals, amparos and dilatory maneuvers that have allowed his aggressors to delay the effective fulfillment of the sentence and postpone, as far as possible, his definitive entry into prison.
The result is as brutal as it is obscene: while the victim is serving a life sentence in his own body, those who destroyed his life continue litigating to avoid prison.
That is the face of Mexico’s failed justice.
And the problem is that this case is not exceptional. It is representative.
The crisis of justice in Mexico is not limited to cartels, high-level corruption or large cases of national impunity. It also manifests itself in everyday life, when the State is unable to offer prompt justice even in cases where the damage is irreversible, responsibility is clear and the need for punishment seems indisputable.
That this happens in Quintana Roo makes the case even more revealing.
We are not talking about an abandoned region. We are talking about one of the economic engines of the country. From the tourist showcase of Mexico. Of the territory that the State sells to the world as a symbol of modernity, security and global integration.
But behind the luxury hotels and the image of the Mexican Caribbean there remains a less photogenic reality: weak institutions, slow justice and a state apparatus much more effective at managing appearances than at dispensing justice.
That is one of the great contradictions of contemporary Mexico.
We have an increasingly sophisticated State to project institutionality.
But still profoundly incapable of producing it.
That is why judicial reform, until now, seems more political simulation than actual transformation. Because no constitutional reform is worth much if the system continues to work the same in practice.
Of course, no judicial system is perfect. America has serious problems: mass incarceration, structural inequality, racial selectivity. But even with all its deformations, it retains a much superior capacity to carry out sentences once criminal responsibility has been proven in cases of serious violence.
Mexico, on the other hand, has perfected another form of impunity: impunity due to delay.
Here it is not always necessary to absolve the guilty. It is enough to let the process drag on so long that justice loses meaning.
That is one of the most perverse features of the Mexican system: its ability to simulate legality while indefinitely postponing justice.
The case of Roberto González should embarrass any government that talks about institutional transformation. Because as long as a quadriplegic victim continues to wait almost ten years to see a sentence fully carried out against those who destroyed his life, any official narrative about judicial reform lacks credibility.
Faced with this abandonment, Roberto turned his tragedy into a public denunciation through Hasta la Médula, a play that narrates not only the brutality of the aggression he suffered, but also the institutional violence that came afterwards.
The work portrays the human consequences of violence, resilience in the face of physical and emotional devastation, and the strength necessary to move forward when everything seems to have broken. It invites us to reflect on empathy, dignity and the irreversible weight of our actions on the lives of others. It is not just testimonial theater. It is an intense and necessary human experience.
And it leaves a question that is impossible to ignore:
What is the point of talking about judicial transformation if a quadriplegic victim continues to wait for justice while her attackers continue to exploit the system to evade her?
While that question remains unanswered, it is worth acknowledging the obvious:
Judicial reform has not corrected Mexico’s failed justice. The discourse has changed, not the reality.
Hasta la Médula will be presented on April 25, 2026 at 7:00 p.m. at the Nuevo Teatro Silvia Pinal (https://www.goliiive.com/hasta-la-medula).
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