The world's most dangerous drug cartels. How do they operate? Dr. Piotr Chomczyński

The expert described using this method in a juvenile detention center in Mexico City with youths accused of extreme violence. The first boy claimed to have participated in skinning victims alive. Skeptical, the expert gave him a pen and asked to demonstrate step by step. The boy described the process, noting which body parts were targeted first and why, and the time it took. The expert then interviewed another boy separately with the same prompt, who described the identical sequence without having communicated with the first. A third and fourth provided further corroboration. This consistency led the expert to conclude that the accounts were genuine. The method is valuable in environments where people often boast or have distorted memories.

The expert shared two incidents. In one, he was stripped nearly naked and cross-examined in a neighborhood where an interview was cancelled. The cartel members checked his documents, including his university affiliation, and confirmed online that he was indeed a professor. They found copies of his passport and embassy papers, not spy equipment, which convinced them he wasn't a threat. In a second, during a pilgrimage, he was invited into a vehicle with armed, drugged cartel members. While waiting for his informant, he answered questions honestly, admitted he was scared but drew a parallel to how a Mexican would feel if suddenly dropped into a dangerous Polish neighborhood. This disarmed some of the tension. Both episodes underscore that paperwork plus the right demeanor are crucial tools.

The expert draws on his field interviews and observations to show that cartels mimic legitimate businesses with divisions of labor, logistics planning, and even accounting. They exploit migrants who cross Mexico – first using them as cheap labor in mines or drug sales, then harvesting organs when they are too weak. He recounts a story of a cartel 'accounting' team sent to audit a regional drug operation; the boss then eliminated the entire cell plus families for disloyalty. This corporate-like discipline and diversification makes cartels far more resilient than a single-commodity gang. The expert emphasizes that the name 'drug cartel' obscures their full economic power: they maintain control over local economies through protection rackets and even step in to fix agricultural prices when legal systems fail. This insight reframes cartels not as criminal subcultures but as parallel state-like structures that fill governance vacuums.

The expert contrasts the business models: cocaine dealers stayed close to clients who would call again soon, while fentanyl kills too quickly for a long-term relationship. Yet the math works because fentanyl is so powerfully addictive that the market regenerates almost instantly – the U.S. sees nearly 100,000 overdose deaths annually, but demand stays high. Moreover, synthetic drug production does not depend on smuggling the final product across borders; only precursors need to move, many of which are legal chemicals. This reduces the risk of large seizures and allows final synthesis in the destination country, akin to the 'Breaking Bad' model. The expert notes that this shift also changes the nature of violence: synthetic drug markets are less tied to territorial control of crops, leading to more fluid and brutal conflicts between younger, less disciplined pistoleros.

The researcher describes a theory of 'collective trajectory': in neighborhoods where cartels dominate, young boys are surrounded by narco-corridos (ballads praising bosses), murals of battles, and older siblings or fathers already involved. A recruiter, often a former member who went through the same path, approaches them using shared language and emotional resonance, offering money, a gun ('klamka'), and a sense of being seen. The child starts as a lookout on rooftops ('Los Ochos'), enduring 40°C heat without rest, then may graduate to being a lookout or messenger. Those showing willingness to kill are tested by executing a bound victim in a basement; the act becomes a 'baptism by fire' that ties them to the organization permanently. The expert shares the story of a 19-year-old he met in 2023 who had killed over 20 people as a minor and had strategically 'retired' from killing at 18 to avoid an adult prison sentence, instead transitioning to other cartel work. The calculation is chillingly rational: he knew that as a juvenile he would only serve 5 years in a correctional facility, while after 18 he risked decades in prison.

He describes the sequence: migrants are captured by cartels, used in illegal mining or drug dealing for 2-3 months until physically broken, then slated for organ extraction. A person becomes more valuable dismembered than alive. The removal often occurs in makeshift facilities, sometimes by trained doctors, sometimes by laymen the cartel trained. Because the donors will not survive, the sterile protocols of legal transplantation are absent. The expert recounts a story from one of his informants who personally saw a shipping container near the border filled with corpses whose organs had been removed, including children. The brutality extends to using methods without anesthesia, as the 'red market' demands fresh organs. Cartels also force hospitals into cooperation: they approach a director with surveillance photos of their family and child's school to ensure that, in case of gang war, wounded members get priority treatment. This dual use of medical infrastructure – for trafficking and for treating combatants – underscores the deep infiltration of cartels into the legitimate healthcare system.

The expert details how Joaquín Guzmán López, son of El Chapo, allegedly lured El Mayo onto a plane to El Paso under the pretense of viewing real estate investments, then delivered him to U.S. law enforcement to negotiate a reduced sentence for himself. This triggered internal warfare within Sinaloa's factions, escalating to levels not seen before. The expert notes that this is part of a broader trend: when old-style bosses are arrested, they are replaced by young, ruthless 'pistoleros' who have no loyalty, no code, and will do anything to maximize short-term power. This betrayal also led to the exposure of American companies that collaborated with the cartel. The event illustrates how anti-cartel operations can backfire, removing stabilizing figures and unleashing more chaotic violence.

The expert recounts the case of La Katrina, a 21-year-old who rose to a high rank in the ultra-violent CJNG cartel, partly through intimate relationships but also through demonstrated strategic intelligence and bravery in combat – she died in a police shootout and was responsible for planning ambushes that killed several officers. To be taken seriously in the macho culture, female members must be even more ruthless than male counterparts. The expert also interviewed a woman in a Honduran prison who, over 30 years, strategically changed the Mara Salvatrucha (MS-13) gang's tactics from indiscriminate street executions to community engagement, effectively rebranding the gang to gain local support. He further describes female inmates who served as sicarias and the psychological transformation required. His upcoming reportage 'Kobiety narkobiznesu' will detail these trajectories. The increase in female participation is partly driven by the same socioeconomic despair, but also by the expanding 'product line' of cartels requiring diverse skill sets.