Axel Javier Sulzbacher is a photographer and filmmaker based in Hanover, Germany.
Growing up in Hanover, Germany, as the son of a Mexican mother, I longed for food from my home country.
In the mid-’90s, sourcing ingredients for Mexican cuisine in northern Germany was nearly impossible. You’d be lucky to find a mild pepper in supermarkets, let alone essentials such as chiles, tortillas and nopales.
Avocados were even rarer. Good ones were practically nonexistent; German avocados were tasteless and underripe, nothing like the buttery goodness I was accustomed to from my second home, Uruapan, in Mexico.
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Today, grocery shopping in Germany is an entirely different experience. I can buy all the ingredients I need for authentic Mexican food within walking distance. Indeed, I have access to fruits and vegetables of exceptional quality from around the globe, available year-round at reasonable prices.
But as commodities have become more accessible in Hanover, Uruapan — the self-proclaimed “avocado capital of the world” — has declined. The pine forests and guava trees surrounding my town, in the state of Michoacán, have been replaced by avocado plantations and scarred hills.
U.S. import restrictions on avocados from Mexico were eliminated in 1997. It was then that Mexican cartels — who already ran the state’s illicit drug trade — recognized the lucrative potential of this burgeoning market and competed to dominate the avocado trade as well. The fight for control over plantations turned the farmlands of Michoacán into battlegrounds, and Uruapan, the epicenter of avocado production, was disfigured by violence. In 2020, Uruapan was ranked the third-deadliest city in the world.
Once an ordinary city, Uruapan is now plagued by corruption, violence and terror. The avocado industry, with all its evils, has overwhelmed the town of my ancestors. My relatives now endure daily kidnappings and extortion by the cartels. And for what? So that people in other countries can dip their Doritos in guacamole while watching a football game?
When the Philadelphia Eagles faced the Kansas City Chiefs in the Super Bowl this year, Americans probably ate about 139 million pounds of avocados, mostly as guacamole. By 2015, the United States had quadrupled its avocado consumption since the 1990s, and this trend shows no signs of slowing.
The seasonal scarcity of certain vegetables and fruits, such as avocados, once made them foods to anticipate. The first strawberries of spring were a joy to see; apples were an autumn delight.
Share this articleShareToday, cravings are instantly gratified — and they needn’t be. Pioneering chefs such as Anika Madsen of Denmark have created menus based on seasonal and regional ingredients, drawing rave reviews. Her success proves that we can live richly without needing everything, everywhere, all at once.
Our globalized world enjoys unprecedented abundance. Yet many people neglect to take responsibility for ethical production and consumption. It’s telling when the leading promoter of “green gold,” avocados from Mexico, boasts that its avocados are available “365 days a year.”
Indeed, Mexico is one of the few places on Earth where avocados can grow year-round. Yet there are costs to having avocados always in season. Farming them requires 2.4 million gallons of water per hectare each year. Michoacán draws from its supply of recycled rainwater to satisfy this international demand, leaving many of the state’s residents without access to water. The sources of drinking water that remain are sometimes polluted with the pesticides used to grow avocados.
Addressing the environmental degradation in Uruapan means understanding its root cause: the global demand for avocados. In our interconnected world, governments have a collective responsibility to prioritize safety over unlimited profits. The United States, given its influence in international trade, has the power to shape the ethical standards of its trade partners, including Mexico.
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For inspiration, one could look to Germany’s Supply Chain Act. Enacted this year, the act is designed to remedy human rights violations by ensuring that imports to Germany come from ethical sources. Instead of singling out a specific industry, this act provides a comprehensive obligation for all businesses wishing to enter the German market.
The United States purchases nearly 90 percent of Mexico’s avocado exports. This means Americans can do more than just dominate the avocado trade — they can improve it. The United States-Mexico-Canada Agreement — or USMCA, which replaced NAFTA in 2020 — is committed to protecting all life within the territories of the participating countries. Any violation of the agreement is meant to result in serious penalties.
Nevertheless, the United States has not imposed sanctions against Mexico for the inhumane avocado trade. A temporary ban on avocado imports from Michoacán last year, prompted by a threat to a U.S. inspector, demonstrated that it is possible to uphold principles of human rights and environmental protection. However, by lifting this week-long ban without imposing any other restrictions, U.S. trade officials missed an opportunity to enforce international standards, and pressure the Mexican government to do the same.
The United States should reimpose its ban on Mexican avocados. My people should not die to satiate the world’s appetite for guacamole. Until the Mexican government quells the violence in Michoacán, and Uruapan returns to peace, everyone should be able to get by with fewer avocados.
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