NUEVO LAREDO, Mexico — To Mexican companies, the rule was never much of a problem, largely ignored by U.S. authorities, especially along a border where cultures had always mixed.
But to the Trump administration, it is a point of critical road safety that went too long unaddressed.
The issue? English.
President Donald Trump has put immense pressure on Mexico not only through threats of tariffs and of military intervention but also through the trucking industry, which keeps billions of dollars in business flowing between the United States and its biggest trading partner.
In April, not long after designating English as the official language of the United States, Trump restored a penalty — taking a driver off the road — for violating a long-standing U.S. law that requires commercial vehicle drivers to know the language well enough to read road signs and communicate with U.S. officials. The order set off a rush in Mexico, where companies are trying to teach drivers enough English to keep their businesses alive.
This year, according to Transportation Department data, officials reported more than 5,000 violations by truckers from Mexico who did not speak sufficient English, versus roughly 240 in 2024.
“We have to study,” said one trucker, Luis Alberto Alvarado Machado, 36. “If we can’t drive, it all stops.” And if a driver is declared out of service beyond the commercial zones along the U.S.-Mexico border, they can no longer drive until they satisfy the mandate.
The Trump administration raised the pressure further this past week, with Secretary of State Marco Rubio pausing all new worker visas for commercial truck drivers. “The increasing number of foreign drivers operating large tractor-trailer trucks on U.S. roads is endangering American lives and undercutting the livelihoods of American truckers,” he said.
The move came days after the Transportation Department announced an investigation into a deadly Florida crash involving a truck driver from India who authorities said was in the country illegally and did not speak enough English.
Mexican officials said Friday they were unconcerned with Rubio’s visa pause, saying that Mexican truckers used a visa provided under the countries’ trade agreement.
Nonetheless, Mexican businesses have been racing to adapt. “This rule puts us in an emergency situation,” said Israel Delgado Vallejo, who owns a trucking company based in Tijuana, Mexico. He added, though, “We’re in favor of road safety, and we think it’s necessary.”
The scale of trucking between the countries is enormous. Last year, according to U.S. government figures, 5.9 million trucks crossed from Mexico into the United States, more than 16,000 trucks per day.
Half of those entered through Laredo, Texas, alone — meaning that no place has felt the effect of Trump’s order more than across the border in Nuevo Laredo, Mexico’s trucking capital.
A cottage industry of English classes has formed. One session began at 8 a.m. last Saturday, with 17 truckers from several companies taking their seats for a six-week crash course. For five hours, the truckers practiced pronunciation, reviewed truck vocabulary and rehearsed exchanges with U.S. roadside inspectors about destinations and cargo.
In one scenario, drivers sat in a truck as a teacher, playing a U.S. official, approached — ordering the door opened, demanding a driver’s license and other documents. But one driver, Jose Gómez, staggered into Spanish when asked where he kept warning signs in the truck.
“I was nervous,” said Gómez, 43. “Imagine having an officer in front of me.”
For truckers who spoke little or no English, or those who have received recent warnings from U.S. officials, the classes were critical. Before, many had relied on hand signals, translation apps or an official’s Spanish skills to get by. “And with technology like GPS, they come and go without any problem,” said Héctor Hinojosa, who owns H&H Transport in Nuevo Laredo.
Now truckers fear that every interaction, whether a traffic stop or weigh station check, is a potential English exam. They said that state police officers can also test their English, and that officers in some states, like Texas and New Mexico, are more rigorous than others.
A division of the Transportation Department recommends that U.S. officials evaluate whether a driver can answer questions in English about the origin or destination of their trip, how long they have been driving, what they are hauling and whether a truck is safe.
The official may also quiz the driver on highway signs, the division said, adding, “The driver’s explanation may be in any language, provided the manager is able to understand the driver’s explanation.”
When Jair Martínez, a Mexican trucker who ships goods from Nuevo Laredo to Laredo, crossed into Texas two months ago, he said, he received a warning.
“I stumbled,” he said, calling his proficiency in English very low. “I didn’t understand much. It was nerves and pressure from starting to hear about other B-1 drivers who have been penalized or sent back,” he added, referring to drivers with the same kind of temporary business visa.
After that, Martínez, 49, signed up for the English course. While other companies paid for their drivers’ classes, Martínez said he paid the $80 fee himself.
“It’s worrisome,” he said. “We are guests, meaning we have that privilege from the United States to have that visa and to work. These are their rules, and we have to abide by them, and we have to try our best to communicate.”
Even some who spoke more English said the classes were necessary. These truckers often drove deeper into the United States, into states with stricter enforcement or different pronunciations.
“In Mississippi, they talk a little faster and they have an accent, and it was harder,” said Jorge Flores, 43, who drives mostly car parts from Nuevo Laredo to as far away as Oregon or Michigan.
Some Mexican trucking companies, such as TNL Express in Nuevo Laredo, had so many truckers needing the English course that they hired a local public teacher to help. Alvaro Machado was one of 15 drivers in a recent Saturday session at the company’s headquarters.
When he started driving trucks at 18, he said, he spoke “practically no” English and struggled to order any food beyond “Combo No. 1.” But after 14 years of making deliveries to the United States, he learned key words in English, augmented that with hand signals and came to see that highway signs are largely universal.
He had never had an accident or problem driving in the United States, he said, but he still wanted to take classes — to comply with the rules and to be more prepared for accidents.
“I’ve seen trucks turn over, and you would get out to help them, but I couldn’t call emergency services or anything,” he said.
While several Mexican trucking company operators were in favor of Trump’s policy if it made roads safer, some said the lack of English had never been a problem before. Many feared that they did not have enough time to teach their drivers enough of the language, which could disrupt shipments in an already short-staffed industry.
“I applaud the measure,” said Juan Manuel Talamas, who runs a trucking company in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico. “But what hasn’t been done for many years can’t be done overnight.”
This article originally appeared in The New York Times. © 2025 The New York Times
