In recent days, an official press release from the Campeche State Government has been circulating on social media, attempting to establish, almost by decree, the supposed legacy of Governor Layda Sansores. The document describes an administration marked—according to its narrative—by progress, transformation, and unprecedented positive change. However, rather than an exercise in accountability, the press release constitutes a crude effort at government propaganda, lacking empirical support and profoundly divorced from the reality experienced by the state.
It is no coincidence that this content has been replicated in its entirety by websites and digital portals that receive financial support from the state government itself. The strategy is clear: to amplify an official version that portrays a prosperous, orderly, and growing Campeche, while silencing the economic decline, institutional paralysis, and social discontent that are spreading across large regions of the state.
The municipality of Carmen represents the most illustrative case of the failure of this narrative. Historically considered the economic capital of Campeche and one of the country’s energy pillars, Ciudad del Carmen is experiencing one of the deepest crises in its recent history. Far from acting as a facilitator or ally to contain the economic collapse, Layda Sansores positioned herself as one of the main opponents of relocating Petróleos Mexicanos’ national offices to the island, a measure that would have provided immediate relief and a real opportunity for economic reactivation.
Adding to this decision is a symbolic affront that is difficult to ignore: the derogatory expressions with which the governor has publicly referred to Carmen, calling it a “fucking little island.” Beyond the tone, these words reflect a centralist, insensitive political vision, deeply disconnected from the historical and strategic role that this municipality has played for Campeche and for Mexico. Her infrequent visits to the island, always accompanied by a large security detail and without direct contact with the citizens, reinforce the perception of a distant, absent, and detached governor.
During her administration, not a single high-impact public works project capable of boosting the regional economy, leveraging its natural resources, strengthening its tourism identity, or capitalizing on the productive potential of its people has been undertaken in Carmen. Nor was there any effective effort to demand timely payment from Pemex for its outstanding debts to local businesses, a debt that dragged on for nearly 18 months and led to business closures, job losses, and further deterioration of the economic fabric.
In terms of governance, Layda Sansores’ administration has been characterized by a virtual political leadership focused more on Mexico City than on the state itself. Her main public platform has been the weekly program “Jaguar Tuesdays,” a space far from being a serious exercise in accountability. Having become a media spectacle, this program gained notoriety when recordings of former governor Alejandro Moreno Cárdenas were broadcast. However, despite the scandal and the morbid fascination it generated, none of the numerous accusations made resulted in solid legal proceedings or sanctions, revealing a worrying institutional weakness and the political manipulation of the justice system.
Layda Sansores’ true legacy isn’t measured in press releases, slogans, or media stunts. It’s measured in lost opportunities, abandoned local economies, weakened institutions, and an increasingly skeptical citizenry. Trying to call simulation “transformation” and stagnation “progress” doesn’t change the facts. Propaganda can construct narratives, but it can’t erase reality. And in Campeche, the reality is stark: there was no change, no direction, and no legacy. All that remains is the erosion of power and a profound collective disappointment.
Source: tribunacampeche
