The residents of the Cristóbal Colón ejido feel they can finally have a break, although some don’t believe in the stability of the pacification the government boasts.
“If it’s true, as the government says, that all the armed people have left? Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t know what the situation will be like later,” says a woman in charge of cleaning the bathrooms at the ecotourism center, which overlooks a system of crystal-clear water bodies surrounded by the Lagartero archaeological site. In 1995, the ejidatarios founded this community-run project, which is a place where mass tourism has never reached and which is normally frequented by local visitors.
Visitors stopped coming to Lagos de Colón in 2020 due to the pandemic, which forced its residents to return to work in the cornfields. A year later, something even worse happened: clashes between criminal organizations began, which in this border region with Guatemala were frequent and in broad daylight, involving explosives, burning vehicles, and armed drones. Thus, the people of Chiapas reluctantly stopped visiting this destination, one of their favorite weekend getaways.
Living on the Chiapas border with Guatemala
Lagos de Colón is located a few kilometers from Guatemala and is considered by the region’s residents to be a particularly sensitive area, as clashes between criminal organizations have been most severe right along the border. The few visitors who ventured there after July 2021, when the conflict between the Sinaloa Cartel and the Jalisco New Generation Cartel intensified, found armed civilians patrolling the area or setting up checkpoints at the entrance. Furthermore, four men have disappeared on the road leading to the tourist site. The residents of Lagos de Colón prefer not to talk about this. “People don’t talk because they’re terrified, even though the criminals are still there,” says a local activist.
“I stopped going to Lagos de Colón, I was scared,” says the owner of a restaurant located at the Chamic intersection, where the detour to the resort begins on Federal Highway 190, which connects Comitán to the Guatemalan border.
The woman shuffles cards while a horn blares cumbia music. From time to time, she talks about the security afforded her by the patrols of the elite Pakal Immediate Reaction Force (FRIP), launched in December 2024 by Governor Eduardo Ramírez, and how they have allowed daily life to return to normal for the region’s inhabitants. In fact, in front of her is the border life that had been frozen for years: vehicles come and go from Guatemala, some truckers stop to eat or get gas, and minibuses leave all the time. A driver assures us that “it has always been very peaceful here,” but the bullet holes in the walls tell a different story: there have been several battles in Chamic, a town in Frontera Comalapa, one of the Chiapas municipalities most affected by the cartel dispute.
It is difficult to count the exact number of people who had to flee their homes in the Chiapas border region, but it is estimated that in the municipality of Frontera Comalapa, in just five days in May 2023, there were around 4,000.
Organized crime has exercised total control over the daily lives of residents, according to the report “Siege of Daily Life, Terror for Territorial Control, and Serious Human Rights Violations,” written by the All Rights for All Network. Criminal groups have occupied homes and ranches, imposed curfews, charged “pimiento” (a small fee) even to those selling their crops in a small market space, and have even controlled family celebrations and community events.
A sudden “pacification” in Chiapas
One way the cartels have controlled the population has been to force them to work for them or to participate in marches or blockades, using the communal land commissioners as mediators. “These groups took advantage of the communities’ organizational structures to provide a free army, which doesn’t need to be paid or fed,” says one resident.
These blockades, especially on Federal Highway 190, were frequent and severely impacted the population and its economy. The situation changed in December 2024, after Eduardo Ramírez was sworn in: the blockades suddenly stopped, and the clashes gave way to calm.
“I think the government reached an agreement with the criminal groups; that’s the only possible explanation for this sudden pacification,” says a displaced resident of Frontera Comalapa. “When they entered Comalapa, people were afraid there would be shootouts, but there weren’t any. How is it possible that the criminal groups didn’t resist? I think they knew the security forces were coming; in fact, the criminals left beforehand. Many residents are happy with this supposed peace, but it’s just a realignment: the criminals and the environment of constant surveillance remain.”
Operations in Frontera Comalapa, Chiapas
The first operation of the Eduardo Ramírez era in Frontera Comalapa was launched on January 3, 2025. On this day, the interim municipal president of Frontera Comalapa, José Antonio Villatoro Herrera, posted a photo with a FRIP commander. “Today I want to thank our governor for this strategic security plan for the state of Chiapas. I want to tell you, Mr. Governor, that here in the municipality you have an ally,” Villatoro said in an interview with a local media outlet.
However, shortly afterward, security forces arrested him for his alleged involvement in organized crime. Villatoro had assumed office following the disappearance on September 3, 2024, of mayor-elect Aníbal Robrero Castillo, who was kidnapped while traveling in a car near Tuxtla Gutiérrez.
The recent history of this municipality’s presidency is highly troubled, and they were not the only mayors to have been disappeared: in 2021, due to insecurity, elections were not held, and the state Congress appointed a Municipal Council. Then, in December 2023, former Frontera Comalapa mayor Irán Mérida Matamoros disappeared, only to reappear four months later in a video interview with a criminal group. Mérida Matamoros never returned home. Shortly before, another politician from Frontera Comalapa had been kidnapped: Rey David Gutiérrez Vázquez, a candidate for municipal president.
Displaced people from Chiapas are pressured to return, but they want to impose fines
Governor Eduardo Ramírez took the “reopening dip” in Lagos de Colón on February 1, 2025. He jumped into the waterfalls to show the people of Chiapas that it was now possible. “The governor is from Comitán and has been here since he was 6 years old. He says he learned to swim here,” says the owner of a Lagos de Colón store. Her eyes shine as she recounts the details of that day, which, according to the ejidatarios, marked the return of tourism to the resort.
However, traveling along Federal Highway 190 and the road leading to Lagos de Colón, one can still see a large number of empty homes and businesses. A resident who was displaced from Chamic three years ago states that, following the governor’s visit in February, the commissioners of the ejidos of Frontera Comalapa are pressuring the displaced families to return and threatening to take their land if they don’t.
“They want to show that there is peace, that there are no more displaced people, but we won’t return because there are no safe conditions,” says the woman, who is rebuilding her life in a nearby municipality. According to her, the 44 communities in the irrigation zone have also agreed to charge 50,000 pesos to displaced families who return, to cover the fines they accumulated during their absence, for not participating in collective work and forced shifts at blockades imposed by organized crime.
In mid-March, 52 families from the Chamic and Joaquín Miguel Gutiérrez ejidos in Frontera Comalapa returned to their ejidos, according to the mayor of the neighboring municipality of La Trinitaria. “We spoke with the authorities of their communities of origin and asked them to allow them to return without being fined for leaving. We are helping more families return to their places of origin,” she said.
Repairing the Community Fabric in Chiapas
According to the displaced woman, some communities decided not to impose fines, although some neighbors disagree. “The saddest thing is that the ejidatarios themselves say: I was forced to block roads all this time, and those who were displaced return and don’t pay a fine, as if nothing happened. This reaction shows that the presence of these criminals breaks the community, lacerates the social fabric, and creates distrust.”
Together with her neighbors, who were also displaced from Chamic, this woman is working to repair the community fabric. “We encourage peaceful, everyday resistance through the recovery of the soil and the production of our food,” he says. “We build trust and keep our dreams alive; we need them to keep us alive. And if one day we return, it will be in a collective and organized way, so that together we can gather strength to sustain the group.”
Source: animalpolitico
