The 1986 World Cup is often remembered for Diego Maradona‘s “Hand of God” goal, but for Mexicans, the tournament symbolized much more than football. Mexico was no dictatorship, yet it hosted a World Cup just months after one of the worst natural disasters in its history while the economy teetered on the brink of collapse, a precarious balance that set the stage for the events to follow.
This post explores the political context of Mexico 1986: the behind-the-scenes politics that landed Mexico the tournament, the economic crises and earthquake that shook the nation, public protests, cultural imagery, and grassroots activism.
Securing the tournament
Colombia originally secured the right to host the 1986 World Cup. Still, by October 1982, President Belisario Betancur told his citizens the event would not take place in Colombia because the escalating guerrilla conflict made it too costly. With Colombia out, the United States and Canada submitted extensive bids, but Mexico’s ten-page proposal prevailed.
According to a 2016 Remezcla investigation, the victory was shaped by the powerful role of Televisa, Mexico’s dominant broadcaster at the time. Guillermo Cañedo, a Televisa founder who also served as FIFA vice president, leveraged his position and close ties with FIFA President João Havelange to promote Mexico’s bid. Remezcla reports that the influence was so strong the FIFA inspection committee did not even visit U.S. venues, despite the United States having a more robust infrastructure.
The same reporting notes that soccer legend Pelé recalled U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, who was part of the American bid, acknowledging Televisa’s clout and joking, “The politics of soccer make me nostalgic for the politics of the Middle East.” Televisa’s successful push meant the broadcaster secured the tournament’s lucrative broadcast rights, cementing its dominance in Mexico’s media landscape.
According to journalist Fabrizio Mejía Madrid, Televisa head Emilio Azcárraga told Cañedo: “Tell the president to put on his best suit, because this World Cup will be inaugurated at the Estadio Azteca, even if we have to cover up ruins with beer advertisements.” On May 20, 1983, FIFA’s executive committee rubber-stamped Mexico’s candidacy and voted unanimously in its favor.
Crisis and resistance
The political theater of 1986 unfolded against a backdrop of economic turmoil. During the 1970s Presidents Luis Echeverría and José López Portillo financed ambitious state projects through foreign loans. This borrowing pushed Mexico’s foreign debt from $6.8 billion in 1972 to $58 billion by 1982.
When global interest rates rose, Mexico declared bankruptcy in August 1982. Newly elected President Miguel de la Madrid responded by privatizing state businesses and embracing neoliberal reforms backed by the IMF and World Bank. These changes imposed austerity on everyday Mexicans, leaving many without jobs or access to essentials such as water, food, and shelter. The peso plunged and inflation eroded purchasing power, so by mid-1986 Mexicans were rushing to convert pesos to dollars, with banks along the U.S.–Mexico border reporting billions of pesos being exchanged.
On September 19, 1985, an 8.1-magnitude earthquake devastated Mexico City. The Pan American Health Organization’s documentary Earthquake Mexico 1985 shows residents chanting “We want to work and help” outside the collapsed Juarez Hospital while the government provided no news about trapped relatives. More than 10,000 people died and tens of thousands were left homeless.
Journalist Juan Villoro later wrote that President de la Madrid ignored the disaster until citizens forced him to act. Survivors lamented, “My family was not killed by the earthquake; what killed them was the fraud and corruption fostered by the government of Mexico.” De la Madrid initially refused foreign aid, insisting that Mexico was self-sufficient.
People therefore formed the Coordinadora Única de Damnificados (CUD), establishing street encampments, providing shelter, and later demanding expropriation of damaged land and restoration of public services. The disaster revealed deep cracks in governance, prompting ordinary citizens to organize and demand accountability.
The World Cup opened at Mexico City’s Estadio Azteca on May 31, 1986. As President de la Madrid entered, a crowd of 100,000 drowned out his speech with boos and whistles. Even ticket holders, people who could afford inflated prices, registered their frustration with the government’s inability to rescue the economy. The Christian Science Monitor reported that this outburst triggered financial panic, with Mexicans rushing to exchange pesos for dollars. Many regarded the tournament as a lavish expense while Mexico was still recovering from the earthquake.
With public confidence collapsing, the government and Televisa tried to engineer an upbeat narrative. The opening sequence of the World Cup, designed with state input, aimed to redefine the Mexican national identity. It included a handshake framed by flags, symbolizing Mexico’s aspiration to be a global partner, and a Mayan pyramid with the sun rising behind it. Scholars argue these images commodified Mexico’s indigenous identity; they recognized indigenous heritage only fleetingly and subsumed it under a modern, European-leaning narrative.
Even the tournament’s mascot Pique, a smiling jalapeño, was criticized as a caricature resembling a 1930s Hollywood stereotype. Televisa’s broadcasts emphasized this sanitized image and avoided showing the tents housing earthquake victims.
While the state sought to project optimism, grassroots groups turned tragedy into political mobilization. The CUD evolved from disorganized encampments into a body issuing demands for reconstruction. Women such as Dolores Padierna played prominent roles, organizing street encampments and fighting to secure water and services for refugees. Internationally, players also expressed solidarity: Brazilian captain Sócrates famously wore a headband reading “México sigue en pie” (“Mexico still stands”) to honor earthquake victims.
Legacy and lasting impact
The 1986 World Cup showcased Mexico’s passion for football and produced some of the sport’s most iconic moments, but it also laid bare the fault lines of a society in crisis. Argentina won the tournament, yet the real winner may have been Mexican civil society. The mobilization during the earthquake re-emerged in the 1988 election when Cuauhtémoc Cárdenas broke away from the PRI and nearly ended its decades-long rule. The World Cup did not mask the crisis; instead, it served as political theater that exposed government mismanagement and accelerated demands for change.
As Mexico prepares to co-host the 2026 World Cup, the question remains: will the world’s biggest sporting event once again become a hollow spectacle, or can it be a stage for genuine transparency and transformation? And if not Mexico, what about its neighbors?
