The state should not direct citizens' lives, she argued.
In the wake of a minister's abrupt departure, the architecture of political loyalty reveals its fragility: Ana Victoria Quintana, undersecretary of crime prevention, now finds herself exposed — her standing built not on institutional roots but on the patronage of Trinidad Steinert, who has since fallen. New minister Martín Arrau is quietly reshaping the ministry around a different vision, and Quintana's controversial public remarks, ideological distance from the ruling coalition, and a web of personal and professional associations have transformed what was once proximity to power into vulnerability. The question being asked in Santiago's corridors is not whether she will be evaluated, but whether she can survive it.
- When her patron Steinert was removed, Quintana lost the only shield protecting her from scrutiny she had never been built to withstand.
- Her televised suggestion that citizens practice 'self-care' by avoiding dangerous neighborhoods ignited accusations of advocating vigilantism and directly contradicted the government's own security doctrine.
- A radio investigation surfaced that her partner has been barred from public office due to years of drug trafficking defense work — a revelation that reframes her personal and professional world in damaging terms.
- Arrau is methodically dismantling Steinert's network and constructing a leaner, strategically focused team, leaving Quintana's position without an anchor.
- With the president's June 1st address approaching, coalition insiders are openly discussing cabinet-level adjustments — and Quintana's name is in the conversation.
Ana Victoria Quintana rose to the crime prevention subsecretariat on the strength of one relationship: her alignment with security minister Trinidad Steinert. The two shared a worldview, and when Steinert faced a punishing congressional hearing — opposition deputies blocked her presentation, leaving her unable to articulate a formal security strategy — Quintana sat beside her, a visible and loyal ally. That visibility would prove costly.
When Steinert fell, Quintana's footing gave way. Incoming minister Martín Arrau moved swiftly to reshape the ministry around efficiency, strategic coordination, and his own trusted circle. Advisors tied to Steinert were removed. The two subsecretaries, Quintana among them, were placed under evaluation.
Her own public statements accelerated the damage. In defense of Steinert's congressional stumble, Quintana quipped that lawmakers simply wanted 'a bound notebook with the plan' — a remark intended as irony that opposition figures read as confirmation that no plan existed. Arrau was forced to publicly walk back the implication. Weeks earlier, in an April television interview, Quintana had suggested that rising homicide rates were a matter of personal responsibility — that citizens knew where danger lived in their neighborhoods and could choose to avoid it. The remarks were widely interpreted as a call for vigilantism, a charge she denied, but one that cut against the government's stated position that the state must guarantee public safety.
Her political roots compounded the problem. Quintana had been a member of the National Libertarian Party — a party outside the ruling coalition — with her membership currently suspended. She lacked the institutional ties that might have absorbed the controversy.
Then came a separate wave of scrutiny. A radio investigation revealed that her partner, attorney Cristián Mardones, had been barred from public office due to his extensive history defending drug trafficking cases — over a dozen in the past decade, including a 2021 case involving cocaine, a weapon with a filed serial number, and a current case tied to a cocaine charge. Quintana herself had not taken such cases, but she had worked alongside Mardones defending a sophisticated robbery ring known as 'Mobile Eye,' representing the romantic partner of the gang's leader. When she assumed the subsecretariat, she transferred that case to her daughter.
A 2020 disciplinary sanction added another layer: while serving as a prosecutor, she had been reprimanded for invoking her official title during a dispute with citizen security personnel and police officers in Lo Barnechea.
As the government prepared for the president's June 1st address, the question inside coalition circles was no longer whether Quintana would face scrutiny — it was whether she would survive it.
Ana Victoria Quintana arrived at the crime prevention subsecretariat with a clear patron: the security minister who brought her in, Trinidad Steinert. The two shared similar instincts and worldviews. When Steinert faced Congress in a bruising hearing—opposition deputies blocked her PowerPoint presentation, leaving her fumbling to explain the government's security strategy—Quintana sat beside her at the front of the chamber, feeding her information and moral support. It was a visible alliance, and it would become a liability.
When Steinert fell from the position, Quintana's standing fell with her. The new security minister, Martín Arrau, began immediately reshaping the ministry around his own people, removing advisors tied to Steinert and now scrutinizing the two subsecretaries, including Quintana. Arrau's vision was clear: he wanted an agile, efficient team focused on strategic planning and coordination among police and security services, not on individual prosecutions or courtroom battles. He had already begun conversations with outside experts about how to rebuild the apparatus.
Quintana's problems compounded quickly. Days after Steinert's congressional stumble, Quintana had stepped into the media to defend her former boss's most damaging remark—that she had not expected lawmakers to demand a formal, written security plan. Speaking with deliberate irony, Quintana suggested the deputies simply wanted "a bound notebook with the plan." The comment was meant to deflect, but it backfired. The opposition saw it as confirmation that no real plan existed. Within the ruling coalition, officials worried she had handed critics a weapon. Arrau, who was trying to rebuild trust with opposition lawmakers, had to publicly walk back the implication, saying the government was adopting security policies from the previous administration and inviting all parliamentary defense committee members to a meeting.
Beyond the political misstep, Quintana lacked deep roots in the coalition itself. She had been a member of the National Libertarian Party, which sits outside the government, and her party membership was currently suspended. Her libertarian philosophy had surfaced in an April television interview that drew sharp criticism. When asked about rising homicide rates, she had spoken of "personal safeguarding" and "self-care," suggesting people knew where danger lurked in their neighborhoods and could simply avoid those areas. She went further, arguing that the state should not direct citizens' lives and that individuals had to take responsibility for their own security through their own judgment and capacity for self-protection. The remarks were widely read as a call for vigilantism—a position she later denied—and they contradicted the government's stated commitment that the state itself must guarantee public safety. One allied lawmaker from her own party defended her work in the field and her engagement with mayors, but the damage was done.
New scrutiny emerged on a separate front. A radio investigation revealed that Quintana's partner, attorney Cristián Mardones, had been barred from holding public office because of his extensive work defending people charged under the drug trafficking law. Over the past decade, Mardones had represented defendants in more than a dozen such cases. In one 2021 case, he defended a man found with nearly three kilos of cocaine, a Glock pistol with the serial number filed off, and another handgun. Currently, he represents someone charged in connection with 304 grams of cocaine. Quintana herself had not defended drug trafficking cases, but she had worked alongside Mardones on the defense of a sophisticated robbery ring called "Mobile Eye" that had stolen millions from commercial businesses by disabling surveillance systems. She had represented the front woman and romantic partner of the gang's leader. When she took the subsecretariat position, she handed off that case to her daughter.
There was also a prior disciplinary mark. In 2020, while working as a prosecutor in the Southern Metropolitan Regional Prosecutor's Office, Quintana had been sanctioned for "using her position for purposes outside her function." The incident involved her invoking her prosecutorial title during a dispute with citizen security personnel in Lo Barnechea and with Carabineros officers.
As June approached and the government prepared for the president's annual address on June 1st, the conversation in ruling coalition circles had shifted to potential adjustments in the subsecretariat ranks. Quintana's position, once secure through her connection to Steinert, had become precarious. The new minister was building his team. She was being evaluated.
Notable Quotes
The deputies simply wanted a bound notebook with the plan— Ana Victoria Quintana, defending former minister Steinert's security strategy
People know where the problem is in their neighborhood and probably will avoid going there— Ana Victoria Quintana, on personal security measures during April television interview
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Quintana's comments about self-care and personal responsibility cause such a stir? Doesn't that seem like reasonable advice?
The timing and context matter enormously. She was speaking as a government official responsible for crime prevention, at a moment when homicide rates were rising. When a state official tells citizens they need to protect themselves through their own judgment, it sounds like an admission that the state can't—or won't—do the job. It also contradicts what her own government was saying publicly.
And the "bound notebook" comment about the security plan—was that really so damaging?
It was meant as a joke, a way to mock the opposition's demands. But it confirmed what critics suspected: there was no formal security strategy. By defending Steinert with irony instead of substance, Quintana essentially agreed with the accusation. The new minister had to spend political capital undoing that.
What about her partner's legal work? Does that directly implicate her?
Not directly. She didn't defend drug cases herself. But it shows a pattern—she and her partner worked together on serious criminal defense, and now she's in a position overseeing crime prevention. It raises questions about judgment and appearance, especially when she's already politically isolated.
Politically isolated—you mean within her own coalition?
Exactly. She belonged to a party outside the government. She had no deep allies in the ruling coalition. When her patron fell, she had no one to catch her. The new minister is building his own team, and she's not part of it.
So what happens next?
That depends on Arrau. He's evaluating her performance. If he decides she doesn't fit his vision of an efficient, strategic security apparatus, she'll be replaced. The June 1st address is the likely moment for any announcement.