Did Mexico’s best‑known billionaire, Ricardo Salinas engineer his own company’s collapse?

Ricardo Salinas Pliego’s relationship with the stock market has always been theatrical, but the final act of Grupo Elektra’s public life was operatic. After a four‑month trading freeze demanded by the company, Elektra’s shares reopened on 2 December 2024 and fell 71 per cent in a single day. Within four weeks Salinas, now holding roughly 95 per cent of the equity, delisted the group. Critics—including governance specialists, fund managers and a growing chorus of Mexican columnists—say the sequence was no accident. They argue Salinas staged a “collapse‑and‑conquer” manoeuvre: lock the market at a lofty price, trigger a crash on his own timetable, buy the rubble, then take the firm private at bargain cost. The evidence is circumstantial but compelling, and it raises uncomfortable questions about the holes in Mexico’s market rule‑book.

A freeze that favoured only one shareholder

The drama began on 26 July 2024 when the Bolsa Mexicana de Valores (BMV) halted trading after Elektra claimed a creditor, Astor Asset Management, had “illegally disposed” of seven million pledged shares. Armed with a provisional court order, Elektra warned that reopening the market would cause “irreparable damage”. When regulators tried to lift the freeze in November, the company secured fresh injunctions, prolonging the limbo to 130 days. Reuters recorded two separate suspensions in that period—both at Elektra’s behest.

The share price, frozen at MXN 944, still counted for index weightings, collateral calculations and league‑table wealth estimates. That benefited Salinas, whose lenders might otherwise have forced a collateral sale at lower levels. Meanwhile index funds were trapped and retail investors had no exit. “It was price discovery in reverse,” says an emerging‑markets manager in Mexico City.

The crash that followed

When trading finally resumed on 2 December, a backlog of sell orders met almost no bids above MXN 300. Shares collapsed 71 per cent, erasing about US $5.5 billion of market value. Reuters noted that Moody’s swiftly warned of “reputational risks” for Banco Azteca, Elektra’s banking arm. Circuit‑breakers were overridden to keep the stock live, but by the third session dealers reported buy orders—mostly via brokers linked to insider accounts—accumulating between MXN 200 and 400.

With the free float shrinking fast, Salinas called an extraordinary meeting for 27 December. Almost all outstanding shares now sat in friendly hands, and delisting passed with ease. Dissenting minorities, locked in for months and then hammered by the crash, carried no weight.

Tax arrears and the hunger for opacity

Why, critics ask, would a billionaire detonate his own market capitalisation? One answer is to escape a valuation he could no longer defend; another lies in the courts. La Jornada reports MXN 74 billion (≈ US $4.3 billion) in unpaid taxes across 32 lawsuits involving Grupo Salinas. President Claudia Sheinbaum’s government has pledged to pursue such arrears, warning that “even billionaires will pay what they owe.” El País lists Grupo Salinas as the most prominent debtor among Mexico’s large companies.

Taking Elektra private removes quarterly disclosures that offered analysts—and by extension the tax authority—a window on cash flows, related‑party loans and asset transfers. That new opacity, sceptics argue, strengthens Salinas’s hand in any settlement talks.

Litigation spreads to New York

Privatisation did not end legal strain elsewhere in the empire. On 22 July 2025 creditors of TV Azteca sued in New York for US $580 million of overdue bond payments, alleging resources were diverted “to affiliates and insiders” while debt went unpaid. Lawyers say they will seek discovery on transfers dating back to the trading freeze, potentially dragging Elektra’s December turbulence into US courts.

Governance concerns ripple through markets

The Elektra saga has become a reference point for emerging‑market risk modellers. Mexico’s equity risk premium widened about 25 basis points in December and remains sticky. Moody’s warned that Banco Azteca faces “reputational risks” because of “substantial related‑party exposure,” describing it as evidence of governance weaknesses linked to Grupo Salinas’ closely held, family‑based ownership structure. Banco Azteca, now funding itself without the transparency of a sister listing, faces tougher questions from ratings agencies about related‑party exposure.

Salinas strikes back

Salinas rejects the conspiracy thesis. On X he brands tax claims “extortion” and labels critics “socialist parasites”. His spokespeople insist Elektra’s delisting will unlock investment in micro‑credit, digital banking and Central American expansion—initiatives, they say, best pursued “without quarterly noise”. Yet bankers note that large capital raises will now require private placements or asset sales, both harder to execute under a litigation cloud.

Can regulators close the loopholes?

More than eight months after Elektra’s lightning‑fast delisting, Mexico’s watchdogs have yet to brandish a single enforcement action. At a 28 June 2025 press conference, the federal tax prosecutor disclosed that Grupo Salinas still owes over MXN 74 billion in back taxes spread across 32 lawsuits—some dating to 2008—and has “litigated with fervour” to avoid payment for 16 years. President Claudia Sheinbaum nodded in agreement as the official outlined what she called a systematic strategy of delay. Yet those huge liabilities remain in limbo, and no sanctions have followed the 130‑day trading freeze that gutted Elektra’s share price. The sole tangible consequence was the company’s automatic ejection from Mexico’s IPC index once the halt passed 20 business days—a rule that punished passive investors but left the controlling shareholder unscathed. For critics, the combination of courtroom stalling tactics and regulatory silence underscores a troubling lesson: in Mexico, a billionaire can park a multibillion‑peso tax bill and orchestrate a market meltdown without facing immediate repercussions.

Reputational stakes

For ordinary Mexican savers—the teacher who held Elektra through her Afore pension fund, the small retailer who bought shares because she trusted the brand—the sense of betrayal is acute. Online forums circulate screenshots of the share graph that plunges like an elevator shaft and link to investigative blogs—of varying credibility—claiming insider buying during the rout. Whether courts or regulators validate such claims will determine how long the episode haunts Mexico’s reputation as an investment venue. As one former CNBV commissioner told Reuters, “events like these can only be addressed through decisive enforcement”.

Salinas may yet persuade a court that Elektra’s privatisation was unfortunate timing amid a genuine creditor quarrel. Until regulators or judges produce a definitive account, the episode continues to fuel doubts about governance standards on Latin America’s second‑largest bourse.

Disclaimer:

This article is based on public filings, press reports, court documents and interviews. Allegations described remain unproven unless validated by a competent court or regulatory finding. Ricardo Salinas Pliego and Grupo Elektra deny wrongdoing.