“Sol Prendido” for Borderland Beat
Veracruz has become the stage for a constant struggle for territorial control. On one side is the "Veracruz Mafia"—also known as *Grupo Sombra*—which has maintained a presence in the region. On the other is the Jalisco New Generation Cartel, which seeks to expand southeastward and has clashed directly with them. In this video, I explain how this conflict arose and what has been happening in the area.
To understand how this war began, one must delve into the inner workings and history of this local cartel. It all started in December 2017 in the northern municipalities of Tuxpan and Poza Rica. At the time, they did not present themselves as the "Veracruz Mafia"; instead, they burst onto the public scene under the name *Grupo Sombra* (Shadow Group) Special Forces.
This organization originated as an armed splinter group that betrayed the Gulf Cartel and adopted the tactical methods formerly used by *Los Zetas*. Their initial goal was to seize control of routes in the northern part of the state, capitalizing on the power vacuum left by major historical cartels. Detailed military intelligence reports identified Francisco Mendiola Cisneros—known in the criminal underworld as *Comandante Miranda*, *El Miranda*, or *El Patrón*—as the supreme leader and founder of this structure.
Over the years, *Grupo Sombra*'s power grew exponentially. Internal reports from the Secretariat of National Defense revealed that they expanded from operating in just two municipalities in 2017 to controlling territory and maintaining operational cells in over 52 municipalities across Veracruz. This means they have an active presence in nearly a quarter of the entire state.
Upon consolidating this criminal empire, they decided to change their official name to the "Veracruz Mafia." This rebranding was no coincidence; they did it to instill greater psychological terror in the public, unify all their cells under a single banner, and fortify their borders against the advance of the Jalisco New Generation Cartel.
As one of the world's wealthiest criminal organizations, the CJNG seeks to expand its monopoly by destroying regional cartels, turning Veracruz into a permanent battleground for control of the Gulf of Mexico. The war between the CJNG and the Veracruz mafia is being waged on two fronts: through armed street attacks and via a bloody propaganda campaign on social media.
The Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG) is executing a large-scale, militarized invasion strategy. They dispatch convoys of heavily armed, improvised armored trucks—equipped with .50-caliber Barrett rifles capable of piercing patrol vehicles and body armor—to the area, allowing them to advance rapidly into northern territories. The CJNG has allied with extremely violent local gangs, such as "Los Piñas," establishing camps and leaving a trail of clandestine graves across the state's southern and central rural areas as a means of "disappearing" their rivals.
For its part, the Veracruz mafia leverages the home-field advantage, possessing intimate knowledge of every road, hideout, and network. Their defensive tactics involve the symbolic display of terror: hanging banners bearing highly aggressive messages, using Molotov cocktails to torch the businesses of those who support their enemies, and filming videos brandishing long guns to sow panic.
They recently issued a statement warning of a total purge against any CJNG cell attempting to cross into their municipalities, while directly demanding that state security forces not intervene in the conflict—or face the consequences. This dispute has transcended geographical boundaries; clashes have shifted from northern rural roads to the main avenues of key cities like Xalapa (the state capital) and even southern port areas such as Coatzacoalcos.
One of the most high-profile and shocking incidents in this conflict took place on the state highway connecting Poza Rica and Cazones, near the municipality of Papantla. There, members of the Veracruz mafia intercepted and executed three alleged operatives from the opposing faction, abandoning their remains on the roadway alongside a massive banner bearing direct threats.
However, what triggered the highest level of alarm among security agencies wasn’t the physical violence, but the sophisticated level of espionage and control the local group demonstrated on the ground. On that banner, the Veracruz mafia wrote a detailed blacklist containing more than 30 license plate numbers, as well as the exact colors, makes, and models of vehicles that—according to their criminal intelligence—the Jalisco New Generation Cartel uses to covertly deploy its operatives.
With this move, the local cartel demonstrated to its rivals that it has eyes and lookouts—known as *halcones*—monitoring gas stations, hotels, restaurants, auto repair shops, and the entry and exit points of every municipality around the clock. The banner served as a criminal checkpoint, making it clear that no suspicious vehicle could travel through northern Veracruz without being detected by their network of informants, thereby proving that the war is fought not just with bullets, but through intelligence and surveillance.
Fighting a financial behemoth like the Jalisco New Generation Cartel requires a vast number of gunmen; to meet this need, the Veracruz mafia implemented one of its most sinister strategies: forced recruitment via online deception, exploiting the lack of jobs and the economic desperation of families in the region. Criminals post fake advertisements on social media and local job boards, offering positions with high salaries and attractive benefits—such as private security guard, armored car guard, or personal bodyguard roles—with minimal requirements and immediate hiring.
Yet, when young people or heads of households arrive, hoping to secure honest work to support their families, these appointments turn into ambushes. Armed men trick them, force them into trucks, and strip them of their belongings, cell phones, and identification. They are then transported to clandestine camps hidden on abandoned ranches or in the mountainous areas of the state's north. There, under threats to kill their parents, spouses, or children, they are completely cut off from the outside world and forced to undergo military and heavy-weaponry training.
Official investigations have revealed that conditions in these camps are brutal. Recruits who refuse to cooperate, attempt to escape, or fail to withstand the grueling physical training are subjected to extreme torture or executed in front of their peers, compelling the rest to obey the cartel's orders out of sheer terror. To grasp the severity of this conflict, one need only look at three recent cases that shook the national agenda due to their brutality.
The first involved the total subjugation of the transport sector. In municipalities such as Álamo, Mapache, and Poza Rica, the Veracruz mafia launched a campaign of terror against taxi drivers, forcing them to pay steep extortion fees or work as involuntary informants reporting on the movements of the army and the CJNG. Irma Hernández Cruz, a 61-year-old taxi driver and retired teacher, refused to cooperate. She was kidnapped and—under torture—forced to record a video warning her colleagues that they had to pay the mafia’s fee; she was subsequently murdered.
The impact of this crime was so profound that it prompted the immediate resignation of the municipality's security director. The second case occurred within the prison system, specifically at the Tuxpan penitentiary. The Veracruz mafia’s infiltration was so deep that, in collusion with prison authorities, the criminal group extorted forced payments from the inmates themselves—ranging from 5,000 to 200,000 pesos per month—in exchange for sparing their lives. This situation led to such extreme frustration that it ignited a bloody riot involving cell fires, resulting in the tragic deaths of eight inmates before the government could regain control of the facility.
The third case was the murder of journalist Roxana Guzmán. After being kidnapped, her body was found weeks later at a ranch in Moloacán that was being used as a criminal operations hub. While investigating the crime, federal forces uncovered an alarming network of complicity: active-duty municipal police officers from Ixhuatlán del Sureste were working directly for the Veracruz mafia, supplying them with government-issued weapons and patrol vehicles, and tipping them off about military operations. This discovery led to the arrest of several police officers and key regional bosses—identified by the government as Delta 1 and Delta 7—as well as the recent capture in Coatzacoalcos of another major operative known as "La Princess," who is linked to the murder of a political coordinator.
Source: MrCreppBoyy














