San Ángel Zurumucapio, a small community of around 6,000 people with P’urhépecha roots in Michoacán, Mexico, has experienced profound changes over recent decades due to the growth of the avocado industry. Once a region of virgin forest, Michoacán has become a global hub for avocado production after the lifting of the U.S. ban on Mexican avocado imports in 1997, a shift that spurred economic opportunity but also brought significant social challenges.
The García family illustrates the complex impact of the avocado boom. Francisco García, 74, recalls a time when the area was quiet and poor, with limited options beyond leaving to find work elsewhere. Both he and his son, Pancho García, sought employment in the United States before returning to plant avocado orchards and build a middle-class life. Pancho and his wife, Terésa Pérez, invested in their avocado groves and provided their children—Ana, Óscar, and José—with educational opportunities and improved living standards.
However, the avocado industry's rapid expansion also attracted criminal groups that diversified beyond drug trafficking into controlling farms and extorting growers. By the mid-2000s, armed criminals began demanding protection payments, seizing land and exerting violent influence over the region. Residents of San Ángel Zurumucapio lived under frequent threat, with armed confrontations occurring near schools and homes and instances of kidnapping and ransom becoming common.
In response to perceived government inaction and rising insecurity, the community adopted a self-governance model in 2021, banning traditional political parties and establishing a local council. The villagers organized an armed self-defense militia, or autodefensas, to patrol the town and protect avocado shipments, constructing barricades and conducting identity checks on visitors. While many locals supported these measures, some, including Pancho García and his father Francisco, expressed concern about the potential for increased violence and the challenges of handling firearms safely.
Tragedy struck on December 10, 2024, when Pancho disappeared after driving to his remote orchard. His white GMC truck was found abandoned, but no trace of him or his assistant was uncovered despite a large search involving the community militia and the National Guard. Attempts by the family to investigate or negotiate with local criminal groups yielded no progress. The family suspects a kidnapping attempt gone wrong but fears that publicizing the case may have deterred any ransom efforts. Francisco eventually urged his family to cease searching to avoid further losses.
The disappearance has left deep scars on the García family and the wider community. Óscar, Pancho’s 18-year-old son, has taken over responsibility for the farm and participates in militia patrols, though his grandfather notes that the boy is not the same since his father’s disappearance. While avocados brought economic advancement to San Ángel Zurumucapio, they also ushered in a period marked by violence, fear, and uncertainty, illustrating the complex legacy of the region’s most lucrative crop.
