Part 2: Green promises, violent realities: how large-scale renewables perpetuate violence in vulnerable regions in Yucatan Mexico

Sandra Barragan-Contreras - Research Associate, Sustainable Consumption Institute, University of Manchester

James Jackson - Hallsworth Research Fellow, Sustainable Consumption Institute, University of Manchester

Material Violence: Land Dispossession and Environmental Degradation

Wind and solar energy generation require vast areas of land. As many of these projects are implemented in rural areas, much of this land is being occupied by indigenous communities who  have stewarded these territories for generations. Yet, when developers and state actors target these lands for energy generation, the impacts have often been devastating. Fieldwork from Barragan-Contreras in Yucatan observed mass deforestation and environmental degradation to clear space for these projects, leaving indigenous groups to cope with diminished access to food and livelihood resources.

A community leader interviewed described their sense of impotency and rage as land, once freely used for communal purposes, was fenced off, deforested, and designated for photovoltaic (PV) energy. Similar to the Yucatán Peninsula in Mexico, extensive deforestation is carry out in many other parts of the world to implement this type of  technologies. The inconsistency between the "sustainability" of these projects, typically carried out by foreign multinational corporations, and the tangible harm they inflict on the local ecosystem mirrors neo-colonial patterns of violence and extraction. This physical displacement has produced not only a loss of livelihood but also disruptions to its culture and ways of living.

Epistemological Violence: Disregard for Indigenous Knowledge and Cultural Values

While local communities see land and the environment as living entities and sources of cultural and spiritual significance, developers reduced it to a commodity to be monetised. An example of this is the Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) conducted for the ‘Yucatán Solar’ photovoltaic project. Within the project’s designated area lies a cenote. Cenotes provide clean water to local communities, but Mayans also view cenotes as sacred entrances to the underworld and places for communion with their gods. Despite this cultural significance, the EIA referred to the cenote simply as a "hollow,". This label allowed the project to proceed without the need for further investigation into the archaeological value of the area. 

During the site preparation work for the project, approximately 200 hectares of jungle were deforested, and the cenote was contaminated with construction waste. This prompted the community to file a lawsuit against the project. The community’s plaintiffs, however, faced great difficulty defending their case due to the challenge of articulating, within the framework of positive law, their concerns about the environmental and territorial damage, including the broad, deep, and spiritual meanings of the site according to their beliefs. Although the project is currently suspended, members of the community fear that the company will overturn the lawsuit, as these types of projects are supported by government policies.

The case in Yucatán mirrors thousands of similar conflicts worldwide, where communities struggle to assert their rights and beliefs within an ideological, political, and regulatory system grounded in Western rationalities. In a few rare cases, communities manage to halt these projects. However, even when successes are achieved, opponents can still be legally compelled to withdraw their objections to the project.

Repressive Violence: Silencing Dissent and Criminalising Activism

Resistance from indigenous leaders and activists who oppose these developments is met with repression. Violence threats, intimidation, and even physical attacks are usually experienced by these people. Those who opposed the project described receiving regular visits from developers’ representatives at their workplaces, attempting to persuade them to cease their opposition. Others reported receiving anonymous threatening letters at home. In other instances, peaceful protests were met with police force to try and silence dissent or to maintain control over contested lands. These acts of repression create a climate of fear and “sustainable violence”, dissuading resistance. 

This repression extends beyond physical acts to include criminalisation, where indigenous activists defending their land are treated as obstacles to economic progress, and can be jailed on this charge, deterring others from speaking out. Such tactics underscore the broader logic of the political economy at play: renewable energy expansion, far from “good” or a purely environmental initiative, operates within a system where profit and power take precedence over justice and human rights. The repression of dissent highlights the limits of current energy transitions model that sacrifices communities and the environment to maintain control over energy resources. 

Ultimately, the energy transition must be critically examined to avoid perpetuating existing and new forms of violence. In regions like Yucatan, renewable energy projects reveal how state-capital alliances, under the mask of sustainability, continue to exploit indigenous lands and communities. Addressing these forms of violence and injustices requires a profound shift in how the energy and knowledge systems are rationalised and deployed. By prioritising the environment and human life over profit driven energy models we can start to forge a path towards more just energy transitions and futures.