Twenty of the world’s 50 deadliest cities are in Mexico, according to a new list
A ranking of the fifty most dangerous cities globally by homicide rate per 100,000 inhabitants places Port-au-Prince, Haiti, at the top with 139.3, trinc by Colima (126.9), Acapulco (102.2), Manzanillo (92.1), Tijuana (91.3), Obregón (89.2), Machala (87.4), Celaya (86.9) and Zamora (76.3). The pattern is hard to ignore: Mexico dominates the top twenty spots, with Ecuador, Colombia, Brazil, South Africa, Jamaica, Trinidad and Tobago, and the United States completing the list. The conversation quickly turned to an uncomfortable question: is this a recent phenomenon or a historical constant?
How many Mexican cities are among the world’s most violent?
Around twenty of the top fifty. The list includes several cities from the states of Colima, Guerrero, Baja California, Sonora, Guanajuato, and Michoacán, as well as Pacific ports and hubs. This concentration is not accidental: many experts argue that most municipalities in the top tier lie along drug trafficking routes to the United States, the world’s largest consumer market. They note that this factor distinguishes Mexico from other countries on the list, where violence stems from more dispersed causes.
Comparison with other regions reveals a striking data point: five U.S. cities also appear in the ranking, challenging the narrative that the problem is exclusively Latin American. Data for Africa is scarce: many countries on the continent do not publish reliable homicide statistics, distorting any global classification.
Is violence in Mexico a historical or recent problem?
Opinions are sharply divided. Some argue that organized crime surged after 2007, when the war on drugs began and the homicide rate was below 8 per 100,000 inhabitants. Before that date, those who lived there recall it was rare to hear about cartels, kidnappings, or extortion. Videos of dismemberments did not start circulating until 2011, during the conflict between Los Zetas and the Gulf Organización criminal.
The opposing view suggests that Mexico has always been a relatively violent society. Charts show higher homicide rates in the 1950s and 1960s than at the start of the 21st century. Those with Mexican relatives remember that even in the sixties and seventies, some returned complaining they had to travel armed and prepared for anything. Violence did not begin with the cartels; what changed was its form, visibility, and capacity to capture entire institutions.
Ecuador’s case: from peaceful nation to violent hotspot
Machala, in Ecuador, appears in the top ten. Two decades ago, Ecuador was a poor, quiet, and uneventful country, with communities of American and European expatriates settled in Guayaquil and Cuenca. After 2000, millions of Ecuadorians emigrated to Spain, and many believed remittances and education in Europe would turn the country into a South American model. The result has been the opposite: Ecuador went from being a safe destination to ranking among the most violent nations on the continent.
The Ecuadorian case disproves the thesis that violence is an inherited cultural trait. If a country can deteriorate so drastically in twenty years, cultural factors lose weight against territorial control, drug routes, and institutional weakness.
Why does South Africa appear on the list without apparent explanation?
This remains one of the unanswered questions. South Africa is not a drug-producing country for the United States nor does it face the same pressure from traficante-trafficking as Mexico. Its violence has different roots: extreme inequality, apartheid legacy, local organized crime, and overwhelmed police forces. The South African case suggests that the homicide rate measures something more than drug trafficking: it measures the state’s ability to impose order within its territory.
What role does the United States play in Mexican violence?
The debate is heated. Some argue that U.S. demand for drugs drives the business and, consequently, the violence. Others respond that no one forces anyone to produce drugs and that choosing to engage in traficante-trafficking is a voluntary decision. Cited data indicates that 85% of arrests for federal drug crimes in the United States are for this reason, confirming the market’s size but not resolving the issue of responsibility.
Comparison with the United States also helps rule out simple explanations: gun ownership is legal there, yet the homicide rate is much lower than in Mexico. Gun availability alone does not explain the violence. What does explain it is the combination of an illegal market, accessible weapons, and a state unable to control its territory.
What do the U.S. cities in the ranking have in common?
This question remains open. The U.S. cities appearing on the list share specific demographic and economic profiles, but the available material does not allow for a definitive answer. What is clear is that lethal violence is not exclusive to the region south of the Rio Grande.
With these data on the table, the uncomfortable conclusion is that the ranking measures something more than incivil: it measures a state’s ability to count its own dead. How many African cities would be on that list if someone bothered to count them?
Summary of a discussion on Burbuja.info - Foro de economía, actualidad y política., translated from Spanish and reviewed before publication.
Read the full discussion (115 replies).
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