Q COSTA RICA — Costa Rica’s re-elected Attorney General, Carlo Díaz, is entering his second term with a sharper understanding of the country’s criminal and political tensions—and with a public promise to defend the independence of the Ministerio Público (Public Prosecutor’s Office) against any attempt to weaken it.
Speaking at a nearly 40-minute press conference after receiving the unanimous backing of the Supreme Court’s Full Court, Díaz said his first term had taught him that Costa Rica faced a more complicated reality than he initially understood. The challenge, he said, was not only the rise of crime but also the growing political pressure surrounding the institutions responsible for confronting it.
“Four years ago, we were not aware that a more complex situation was approaching, from a criminal perspective, but also from a political perspective,” Díaz said.
That assessment frames the next phase of his tenure.
His comments suggest that the Public Prosecutor’s Office will continue to pursue organized crime while expanding its attention toward the financial and political networks that allow drug trafficking to operate beyond the people traditionally identified as traffickers.
From visible traffickers to “invisible” traffickers
Díaz highlighted the agency’s cooperation with the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) and the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), as well as with European authorities. He said the first phase of collaboration with the DEA focused on already identified drug traffickers. The second phase, he explained, is aimed at people who do not appear to be directly involved in narcotics but whose economic or political power may conceal ties to the trade.
He described these figures as “invisible traffickers”: people whose apparently successful business activities may mask income or relationships connected to drug trafficking.
Díaz pointed to the arrest of a Costa Rican citizen of Chinese origin, Guobin Tam Zhang, also known as Juan Carlos Tam Cheong (or Tam Shang), as an early example of this new approach. The attorney general emphasized that the person had links with political figures, while cautioning that such links were not necessarily criminal. The investigation, he said, is not over.
The distinction matters. Díaz is not publicly alleging that every political relationship represents wrongdoing. He is warning that organized crime may exploit legitimate social, commercial, and political connections to gain influence and protection. His stated goal is to investigate not only traffickers but also public officials who knowingly assist them.
That would represent a more politically sensitive stage of the country’s anti-narcotics strategy. Arresting a conventional drug trafficker is one thing. Investigating people with money, status, institutional access, or relationships with elected officials is another. It brings the Public Prosecutor’s Office closer to the center of political conflict—and increases the likelihood of resistance.
Díaz acknowledged as much, saying that his new targets are “quite high” and that pressure could come from different directions. His response was blunt: the Public Prosecutor’s Office, he said, would not kneel before such pressure.
A direct confrontation over institutional independence
Díaz’s most forceful remarks concerned the relationship between the Public Prosecutor’s Office and President Laura Fernández’s administration.
He said he was willing to work with the president and other state institutions to fight crime, including both organized and conventional crime. But he drew a firm line: cooperation would end if the government tried to weaken the Public Prosecutor’s Office, reduce its budget, or interfere with its independence.
“If the president needs me to work with her for the good of Costa Rica, she will find a Public Prosecutor’s Office supporting her,” Díaz said. “But if she wants to weaken us, take away our budget, or undermine the institution, she will find a defender of the independence of the Public Prosecutor’s Office, democracy, and the institutional system.”
The language reflects a broader dispute over the boundaries between political authority and judicial independence. Díaz rejected the suggestion that he had been making partisan political statements. He said he was defending the Constitution, the law, the separation of powers, and the rule of law—not intervening in electoral politics.
Still, the distinction may not satisfy critics. In a polarized political environment, defending an institution can quickly be interpreted as opposing the government that challenges it. Díaz’s position is therefore both legal and political in its consequences, even if he insists that its purpose is institutional rather than partisan.
His use of the word “populism” is especially revealing. Díaz said that attacks from populism would find him defending democracy and institutional stability. That statement places him directly against political rhetoric that portrays judges, prosecutors, or magistrates as obstacles to public safety.
The dispute over the Cacco prison opening
The tension became particularly visible after Díaz did not attend the inauguration of the prison known as Cacco.
He offered two explanations. The diplomatic one was that he had been in the Dominican Republic attending an annual meeting of PAcCTO, a European institution focused on organized crime. His less diplomatic explanation was that he would not attend a dinner or visit a home where he knew he would be insulted and would not be able to respond.
The remarks referred to comments by President Fernández suggesting that some prosecutors, judges, and magistrates were aligned with criminal interests. Díaz called those statements serious and inappropriate, arguing that they attacked people confronting crime directly and risked deepening divisions in the country.
His criticism is part of a larger institutional disagreement over how to explain Costa Rica’s worsening prison and security problems. The government’s rhetoric appears to place some responsibility on judicial actors and other institutions. Díaz, by contrast, argues that prosecutors and judges are the people confronting organized crime and absorbing the consequences of the country’s security crisis.
The dispute is not merely about personalities. It concerns who gets to define the causes of crime—and who is blamed when the state fails to contain it.
Unanimous support, but no guarantee of calm
Díaz portrayed his unanimous re-election as a vote of confidence in the work of the Public Prosecutor’s Office. He attributed the result less to personal political skill than to the work of prosecutors across the institution.
He said he was simply the “director of the orchestra,” while the prosecutors were the people playing the instruments. He also stressed that he had not asked magistrates for votes or made commitments in exchange for their support.
That unanimous backing gives Díaz a strong institutional mandate at the beginning of his second term. It also sends a message to the executive branch: whatever doubts or criticism may exist around the attorney general, the Supreme Court’s Full Court has chosen to support his continuation.
Yet the vote will not shield him from political pressure.
His second term is likely to be more difficult than his first because the targets he describes are more powerful, the relationship with the government is already strained, and public confidence in state institutions is being tested by rising crime and polarization.
The DEA partnership could become central to this period. International cooperation may provide intelligence, resources, and political support for complex investigations. It may also draw criticism if Costa Ricans perceive the country’s criminal-justice priorities as being shaped too heavily by foreign agencies.
Díaz appears prepared to accept that risk. His message is that drug trafficking is no longer limited to armed groups or recognizable criminal figures. It can also exist behind respectable businesses, political access, and institutional corruption.
The meaning of Díaz’s second act
Díaz’s remarks amount to a declaration of priorities: deeper cooperation with the DEA, investigations into hidden financial and political networks, action against officials who facilitate organized crime, and a public defense of judicial independence.
They also reveal a strategy for surviving the political environment. Díaz is presenting himself as willing to cooperate with the government when the goal is fighting crime, but unwilling to remain silent when political leaders attack the institutions carrying out that work.
That posture may appeal to those who see the Public Prosecutor’s Office as a necessary check on executive power. It may frustrate those who believe judicial institutions have become too insulated from democratic accountability. Either way, Díaz has chosen visibility over caution.
His second term will test whether that approach can produce results without pushing the country’s institutions further apart. The success of his agenda will depend not only on arrests, international alliances, or investigations, but also on whether Costa Rica’s branches of government can fight organized crime without turning the fight itself into another source of institutional conflict.
For now, Díaz’s message is clear: the next phase will target people who operate behind power and respectability—and he intends to defend the Public Prosecutor’s Office if the political cost becomes high.