The Guardian’s Fairy Tale of a “Left Wing” Mexico: A Marxist Refutation of Rachel Nolan’s Long Read

Rachel Nolan’s Guardian Long Read about Claudia Sheinbaum and the so-called “world’s most popular left-wing leader” exemplifies bourgeois mystification. Beneath the sentimental narrative, a political reality that the Guardian avoids emerges: Morena is not genuinely leftist but a bourgeois nationalist movement. It has intensified Mexico’s integration into U.S. imperialism, militarised the state, and maintained oligarchic wealth. Its popularity signifies not socialism but the lack of a revolutionary alternative.[1]

A Headline That Conceals More Than It Reveals

The Guardian’s headline — “How did Mexico’s president become the world’s most popular leftwing leader?” — sets an ideological tone even before reading the article. It assumes Claudia Sheinbaum is “left-wing,” that Morena is progressive, and that their popularity is a political mystery worth exploring. However, Sheinbaum is not a left-wing leader, nor is Morena a socialist party. The framing is deliberate, not a mistake; it serves as a political action to reinforce illusions in reformism at a time when such illusions are collapsing among workers across the Americas. The real question is not why Sheinbaum is popular but why the Guardian continues to label her as left-wing.

The detailed article on Claudia Sheinbaum is more ideological spectacle than genuine journalism. It recycles worn-out liberal sentimentalist notions to depict a bourgeois nationalist government as a beacon of “left-wing” hope. This critique shows that Nolan’s story has a political agenda: to conceal Morena’s class background, to hide its connections to U.S. imperialism, and to prevent workers in Mexico and the U.S. from recognising its revolutionary potential.

The Guardian’s premise is misleading. Nolan starts with a question implying its answer: How did Mexico’s president become the world’s most popular leftist leader? The answer is simply that Sheinbaum is called ‘left-wing,’ and the article takes this as a fact, not as an ideological label. However, this doesn’t match reality. Claudia Sheinbaum isn’t truly a leftist, and Morena isn’t a socialist party. The article relies on concealing this truth, depicting a bourgeois manager as a progressive icon because admitting the limits of reformism would be politically unthinkable.

Nolan’s Method: Sentimentality as Analysis

The Long Read employs a common liberal tactic: personalising politics. Sheinbaum’s background, scientific expertise, and calm demeanour act as proxies for class analysis. Nolan’s writing shows admiration for her “pragmatism,” “discipline,” and “connectivity with ordinary people.” However, this isn’t genuine analysis; it’s branding. The Guardian’s approach shifts from examining social forces to highlighting personalities. The result is a narrative where political issues diminish, replaced by a positive story about a caring leader. This perfectly aligns with your document’s point: “This type of journalism substitutes class analysis with feel-good stories about benevolent rulers.”

What Nolan Omits: Militarisation, Repression, and Subordination to Washington

Nolan’s article intentionally omits certain details, a politically motivated omission. Specifically, she does not mention the significant 150% rise in the military budget, the military’s control over ports, customs, and infrastructure, or the establishment of the National Guard to detain migrants in the U.S. Additionally, she overlooks the constitutional recognition of the armed forces as “the pillar of the Mexican state’ and the deployment of tens of thousands of troops to the U.S. border for ‘migrant containment’ operations. These actions demonstrate that this is not simply left-wing governance but the strengthening of a militarised capitalist state.

The near‑shoring agenda

Nolan praises Mexico’s economic “boom” but fails to mention its true source: U.S. imperialism’s efforts to reshape supply chains to confront China. Sheinbaum’s plan explicitly supports this, which states it aims for Mexico to “replace imports mainly from Asia with regional production”—a clear reflection of Washington’s strategy. Nolan overlooks Sheinbaum’s commitments, such as no tax hikes, corporate incentives, “Republican austerity,” and bi-national security cooperation with the U.S. This approach essentially represents neoliberalism with a nationalist twist.

Popularity Is Not Proof of Left Politics

Nolan interprets Morena’s popularity as evidence of its progressive stance, but this is a category mistake. The support for Morena primarily stems from dislike of the PRI-PAN era, a demand for increased social programs, a lack of revolutionary options, and temporary relief from cash transfers. While Nolan considers this support impressive, it actually reflects genuine public sentiment. Nonetheless, Morena has channelled this popular backing into a dead-end. Popularity alone does not define socialism; it is a sociological fact that can be exploited for either reactionary or reformist ends.

5. The Oligarchy’s Endorsement: The Most Damning Evidence

Nolan’s storyline completely unravels when considering the class that has gained the most from Morena: the Mexican bourgeoisie. According to Oxfam Mexico, the top 1% earn 35% of the country’s income and hold 40% of private wealth, with Carlos Slim’s wealth increasing by 66% since 2020. Slim himself has praised AMLO, stating: “There is social peace, there is no confrontation.” This is the highest compliment the bourgeoisie can give, implying that the working class has been effectively contained. Any truly left-leaning government would not receive such praise.

6. The Guardian’s Political Function

Why does Nolan not include this? Why does the Guardian not publish it? Because the Guardian isn’t a neutral observer, it functions as an ideological tool of the liberal bourgeoisie. Its role is to promote illusions about reformist leaders, prevent workers from seeing social democracy’s limits, redirect discontent into safe, nationalist, pro-capitalist channels, and prevent a revolutionary perspective from emerging. The Guardian’s purpose is to ensure that this conclusion is never reached.

Nolan’s Long Read is not just incorrect; it poses a political risk. It fosters the idea that workers should rely on a bourgeois nationalist agenda, which is already embedded in U.S. imperialism’s economic and military plans. A truly left-wing movement in Mexico will not be built from Morena.

Morena and the Pink Tide: A Familiar Cycle of Populist Containment

Nolan’s narrative portrays Morena as a new phenomenon. In fact, it is a late-stage example of the “pink tide” governments that swept Latin America in the early 2000s. These regimes — from Chávez to Lula to Correa — combined limited social spending with support for capitalist property relations and pragmatic cooperation with U.S. imperialism.

The pattern remains consistent: rhetorical anti-imperialism paired with material subordination to imperialist interests. Morena exemplifies this pattern precisely: cash-transfer programs that reduce extreme poverty without changing class structures; nationalist rhetoric that appeals to popular sentiment while avoiding conflict with capital; collaboration with Washington on security, migration, and nearshoring; and the preservation of oligarchic wealth despite increasing inequality. The Guardian’s sentimental narrative obscures this continuity.

The Militarisation of the Mexican State

A key aspect of Morena’s leadership, not mentioned by Nolan, is the substantial militarisation of Mexican society. Under AMLO, the military budget increased by 150%, and the armed forces took control of ports, customs, and major infrastructure projects. A new National Guard was created, mainly tasked with mass migrant detention following Washington’s orders. The military was legally reinforced as “the pillar of the Mexican state,” deploying tens of thousands of soldiers to the U.S. border to oversee “migrant containment.” AMLO entrusted ports, customs, and infrastructure to the armed forces and stationed numerous troops at the US border. This pattern doesn’t indicate left-wing governance but reflects the rise of a militarised bourgeois state.

Sheinbaum’s Program: Near‑Shoring and Austerity

The Guardian describes Sheinbaum as a scientist-technocrat with a social conscience. Yet, her government’s plan openly aligns Mexico with U.S. strategic interests. It aims to help Mexico “capitalise on the economic situation to replace imported goods—primarily from Asia—with regional production,” supporting Washington’s near-shoring strategy against China. Sheinbaum guarantees no tax increases, corporate incentives, “Republican austerity,” and bi-national security collaboration with the U.S. This rhetoric resembles that of a bourgeois manager rather than a socialist.

Popularity Is Not Socialism

The Guardian interprets Morena’s popularity as evidence of its leftist positioning. However, popularity is a sociological fact that requires explanation rather than being a political characteristic. “The popularity Nolan admires truly reflects a reality: large numbers of Mexican workers and youth genuinely detest the right-wing legacy of austerity, corruption, repression, and subservience to US imperialism.” Morena’s support is rooted in the rejection of the PRI-PAN era, a desire for more social programs, the absence of a revolutionary alternative, and short-term gains from cash transfers. However, this support has reached a dead end. As the document notes, Morena “has handed the Mexican working class — as a source of cheap labour —” directly into the hands of US imperialism’s war efforts.”

The Necessary Conclusion

The Mexican working class doesn’t require a “popular left-wing leader” to manage capitalism more gently. Instead, it needs revolutionary leadership that rejects Morena’s nationalist illusions and pursues socialist unification across the Americas. The goal is to ‘discard the Mexican bourgeoisie and its Morena representatives into the trash bin of history and unite with their class allies in the United States and throughout the Americas to eliminate imperialism and capitalism.”


[1] How did Mexico’s president become the world’s most popular left-wing leader? http://www.theguardian.com

Mexico’s Azteca Stadium Protests Expose the Social Fault Lines Beneath the 2026 World Cup

 “Inside the stadium: a carefully curated spectacle of nationalism and corporate branding… Outside the stadium: the real Mexico.”

12 June 2026

The intense scenes outside Mexico City’s Estadio Azteca on the opening day of the 2026 World Cup exposed the fragile illusion of ‘unity” and “celebration” promoted by FIFA, the Mexican government, and corporate sponsors, who dominate every aspect of the event. The incident at Gate Eight—where striking CNTE teachers and the families of Mexico’s disappeared forced past heavily armed security—was not an isolated event but a reflection of deep social tensions that have long been overlooked. “The scenes outside the Azteca Stadium are the eruption of social contradictions that the 2026 World Cup’s corporate and governmental organizers have tried desperately to suppress.” The ruling class has failed.

A confrontation long in the making

For weeks, the CNTE teachers’ union warned they would confront the World Cup with their fight for wages, pensions, and democratic rights. Their slogan—sin solución, no rodará el balón (“without a solution, the ball will not roll”)—was a clear political statement, not just a rhetorical flourish. As some of the most militant members of the Mexican working class, the teachers have declined to accept the austerity measures imposed by the Sheinbaum government.

Their arrival at the Azteca was accompanied by another persistent force: the mothers of Mexico’s disappeared. For over a decade, these women have taken on the work the government refuses to do—searching for their children, uncovering mass graves, and challenging the military and political powers behind the disappearances. “These mothers have become their own investigators… because the same state that took their children is now deploying riot police with shields to defend FIFA’s branding.”

The symbolism is unmistakable. The Mexican government, which has long blocked justice for the 43 Ayotzinapa students missing since 2014, now deploys its repressive forces to protect FIFA’s commercial interests.

Inside and outside the stadium: two irreconcilable realities

The Azteca Stadium became a physical and political border separating two incompatible worlds.

Inside:

  • $2,500 tickets sold through “dynamic pricing”
  • corporate hospitality suites
  • FIFA executives projecting $11 billion in revenue
  • a nationalist spectacle choreographed for global television

Outside:

  • teachers fighting for pensions
  • mothers searching for their disappeared children
  • riot police with shields and batons
  • the working class confronting the violence of the state

The World Cup, far from uniting the nation, has exposed the depth of social inequality and the brutality required to maintain it.

The international dimension: a tournament under the shadow of repression

The 2026 World Cup marks the first time the United States, Mexico, and Canada co-host it. Rather than displaying “North American unity,” the event has exposed the common authoritarian direction of all three governments. In the U.S., ICE agents are present at every venue, transforming stadiums into militarised zones. Migrant workers—who often work in kitchens, cleaning, and security—face risks of detention and deportation, despite their essential roles in making the tournament happen.

In Mexico, the Sheinbaum administration has responded to the CNTE strike with the same disdain as previous governments. The report states that the government “refuses even to meet with striking teachers while dispatching security forces against them.” Canada, on the other hand, has increased intelligence sharing and border enforcement in collaboration with US agencies, ensuring the tournament is protected within a continental security framework. This repression is deliberate; it is the necessary response to a tournament whose profits rely on silencing working-class opposition.

Historical parallels: Argentina 1978 and the politics of spectacle

The comparison to the 1978 World Cup under the Argentine military regime is accurate. Back then, as now, the ruling class aimed to use football to conceal a legitimacy crisis. The stadium served as a venue where the government showcased unity while secretly repressing dissent beyond public view. “The 1978 comparison Uco made in his article is fitting.” Although Mexico is not a military dictatorship, it shares the same fundamental pattern: employing sport as a political tool to hide societal issues.

The World Cup as a battlefield of class interests

The events at Azteca Stadium highlight a key reality of the 2026 World Cup: it’s not about worldwide unity, but a contest between class forces. The workers outside—teachers, precarious labourers, mothers of the disappeared—align their interests with those inside, including stadium cooks threatened by ICE, cleaners working long shifts, and migrant workers who built the infrastructure under risky conditions.

The nationalist spectacle aims to divide them, but the class struggle brings them together. As the document states, “The game will continue, but the social contradictions erupting at Gate Eight will not be settled on a football field.”

The political task ahead

The protests at the Azteca serve as a warning: the ruling class will deploy every tool—police repression, nationalist propaganda, and corporate media—to protect their profits and silence dissent. However, the working class, both in Mexico and globally, is beginning to resist. The goal is to turn these spontaneous outbursts of anger into a deliberate political movement, grounded in a socialist program and focused on international worker solidarity. The World Cup has exposed a vital truth: the fight for justice for the disappeared, fair wages, democratic rights, and an end to state violence is intrinsically linked to the broader struggle against capitalism that creates these injustices. The protest at Gate Eight marks only the start.