The U.S. scored a hard-fought win with the guilty plea of Joaquín Guzmán López — son of infamously brutal cartel boss Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán — a leader in the cartel faction known as “Los Chapitos.” He admitted overseeing massive trafficking of fentanyl, heroin, cocaine and other narcotics into the United States. That’s the kind of result Americans want: cartels exposed, traffickers unmasked, justice — finally — delivered to those who destroy lives.

According to the U.S. Department of Justice, Guzmán López’s plea is part of what they call an “historic, aggressive campaign” under the Trump administration to dismantle cartel command structures and treat these criminal networks as the terrorist-style threat they are. This is the tough-but-principled law-and-order approach that many support: hold the kingpins — not just street dealers — accountable.

But at the same time, the administration granted a full pardon to Juan Orlando Hernández, a former Honduran president who had been convicted in U.S. court of running a narco-state, accepting bribes, and facilitating the trafficking of hundreds of tons of cocaine toward America. That pardon undercuts the moral clarity of the campaign. It sends a conflicting message: for some traffickers, even high-level ones, a pardon is possible rather than punishment.

What does that say to cartel members, corrupt foreign officials, and to American citizens suffering from the fallout of the drug epidemic? It whispers: “If you have power, connections, or timing, maybe you’ll walk free.”

That inconsistency risks undermining not just faith in enforcement, but deterrence itself. If cartel leaders see that some are jailed while others are pardoned — depending on political winds — then loyalty, bribery, and corruption in cartel ranks might flourish rather than falter.

Moreover — and this is the hard truth — the pardon may weaken American leverage abroad. Why should a foreign police force, a corrupt official, or a cartel manager believe the U.S. will always deliver justice when it can be so easily reversed?

If the Trump administration wants this anti-drug campaign to have lasting teeth — to dismantle cartel hierarchies, choke off fentanyl supply chains, and protect American lives — then policy consistency must matter as much as aggressiveness.

Cartels thrive on chaos, bribery, and uncertainty. They trade on the false hope that laws can bend for power. But real victory — the kind that saves American families, reduces overdoses, and strangulates narcotics pipelines — requires justice that’s predictable, equitable, and unyielding.

In short: locking up cartel princes matters. Pardoning narco-kingpins undermines everything else.