This February 2, 2026, we commemorate one of the most serious episodes in our national history: the territorial mutilation suffered by Mexico after the war with the United States from 1846 to 1848.
That conflict culminated in the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, officially called the Treaty of Peace, Friendship, Limits, and Definitive Settlement between the United Mexican States and the United States of America, signed at what is now the Basilica of Guadalupe (which was anything but peaceful).
An instrument that, despite its name, was born under the shadow of coercion and defeat, not of consensus or true peace.
Mexico was then a young, fragile, socially divided state with a clearly inferior military capacity.
Barely twenty years had passed since independence when an expansionist power (the United States), driven by the doctrine of Manifest Destiny, provoked the war and forced us to cede more than 55% of our national territory.
It was not a negotiation between equals. It was a dispossession obtained by force of arms.
But it is important to emphasize something else: the story did not end in 1848.
The original treaty contained fundamental provisions to protect the Mexicans who remained on the other side of the new border; in particular, the recognition and respect of their property and civil rights.
However, in March 1848, the U.S. Senate ratified the treaty, eliminating that commitment.
Mexico, weakened and without any real room for maneuver, accepted these modifications in early May 1848, while our Senate was in session in Querétaro.
At the end of that same month, the instruments of ratification were exchanged between the two countries, and the loss was decreed.
The consequences were devastating. Thousands of Mexicans were left without legal protection.
The promises of respect for their property rights were diluted in practice. And, as if that weren’t enough, in 1853, through the Treaty of La Mesilla, Mexico again ceded—this time through a “sale”—nearly 80,000 additional square kilometers.
This territorial loss was not an isolated event, but rather a continuous process of weakening of the Mexican state in the face of a stronger and better-organized neighbor.
Today, more than a century and a half later, the threat no longer comes in the form of armies or cannons.
But it would be a mistake to think that the risk has disappeared.
Sovereignty in the 21st century can also be lost without firing a single shot.
Currently, a country can be displaced, conditioned, or subjugated by inaction, technological backwardness, institutional weakness, or the inability to integrate itself into major processes of global transformation.
The history of 1848 teaches us that when a state fails to strengthen its institutions, others fill that void.
The risks today are clear. Excluding a country from major advances in artificial intelligence, science, technology, and the digital economy can render an entire nation obsolete.
It’s not necessary to occupy territory; it’s enough to control technological flows, production standards, governance models, and the rules of global trade and the exercise of power. This is a new form of invasion: silent, sophisticated, and profoundly effective.
If Mexico doesn’t modernize its education system, if it doesn’t invest in science and innovation, if it doesn’t strengthen the rule of law, or if it doesn’t truly combat insecurity and corruption, it gives other countries grounds to define its destiny.
Just as in the 19th century, military weakness opened the door to territorial dispossession, today institutional and technological weakness can open the door to the loss of effective sovereignty.
Losing sovereignty today also means losing national identity, decision-making capacity, independent thought, and the margin for self-determination.
It means accepting foreign rules because one didn’t participate in their creation. It means being left behind by global progress.
Remembering 1848 is not about dwelling on defeat, nor is it about constantly thinking, “This will never happen to us again.” It is a warning.
Back then, they stole our land with weapons. Today, they could steal our future through neglect. The historical lesson is real: Mexico cannot afford to lose again. Not territory, not sovereignty, not identity.
Defending the nation in this century depends on modernization, artificial intelligence, and deliberative and transformative democracy, coupled with decisive action.
If we fail to understand this, history—once again—may repeat itself, albeit in different forms and with equally grave consequences.
Source: elnoticieroenlinea
