“He Saw Himself as a Diplomat”: How ‘El Mayo’ Zambada’s Vanity Led to His Capture

How is it possible that Mexico’s most elusive kingpin—a fugitive for nearly 50 years—fell into a trap of his own ego’s making? In the bustling markets of Marrakesh, Morocco, local merchants spot tourists instantly and call out, “Mexican? El Chapo!” Yet, almost none of them recognize the name Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada. 

While Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán was the famous face—appearing on T-shirts and in news headlines—”El Mayo” was the true, silent strategist behind the international expansion of the Sinaloa Cartel. Even in Morocco, tons of hashish were brought in by pilots trained at an academy funded by his own organization. 

For half a century, Zambada operated like a ghost in the Sierra Madre mountains. While “El Chapo” chose notoriety, open warfare, and a spot on billionaire lists, “El Mayo” preferred the discretion of an austere politician and the loyalty of a tight-knit inner circle. In a well-known 2010 interview with journalist Julio Scherer, the kingpin admitted to the sheer panic he felt at the prospect of losing his freedom and dying far from his beloved mountains. 

With striking clarity, he predicted that only a betrayal by someone he trusted implicitly could lead to his capture. That warning played out like a classic tragedy—as depicted in the Netflix docuseries *The Fall of El Mayo*, directed by Darren Foster and Miguel Fernández Flores. 

The kingpin had cultivated an identity as an indispensable diplomat and negotiator; he saw himself as the only man capable of resolving any dispute without resorting to violence. And that very vanity became his undoing. Much like Julius Caesar arriving at the Senate, deceived by false allies, “El Mayo” went to the Rancho Huertos del Pedregal in Culiacán, believing he was there to mediate a political conflict. 

Instead, he was ambushed by his own godson, Joaquín Guzmán López, who subdued him, put him on a private plane, and handed him over to U.S. authorities—ultimately arriving in New Mexico—in order to negotiate benefits for his own family. The man who considered himself the ultimate mediator ended up becoming a bargaining chip in a deal he had no part in. 

Today, the legendary kingpin awaits his sentence at the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn. Do you think it was his vanity that truly led to his downfall, or was his fate already sealed by time? Do you believe that with “El Mayo,” the era of the old-school drug kingpins has come to an end?

Source: Milenio