Razor-straight rows of genetically identical trees border the Baixa Verde community in Brazil’s northeast. The identical trees stand in stark contrast to the patches of native Atlantic woodland, among the planet’s richest biological habitats on Earth.
Encircled by nearly 100,000 hectares of eucalyptus plantations, Baixa Verde exemplifies a rare local victory over a multinational in Brazil. This agricultural community exists today due to nearly two decades of legal battles over land rights – yet the conflict continues.
Following struggles to keep their territory, the families now face an unparalleled safety emergency marked by violent encounters, arson and threats on their lives, part of a wave of violence stemming from a territorial conflict that has intensified since 2024.
Disputes over land rights have long been an problem in the region. Obtaining property titles is commonly deemed to validate illegal land seizures from traditional communities, and local people had suspected that a wood-pulp manufacturer was cultivating eucalyptus on government property.
In 2008, a founding member of the Baixa Verde settlement and another community member visited government archives to inspect official papers. They found the page that demonstrated the 3,200 acres in dispute were publicly owned. “We always knew that it was state property,” states the founder.
Armed with this evidence, they organized 91 local families and joined the Movement of Landless Workers, a social and political group fighting for land redistribution. Its first action was to take over a section of a eucalyptus plantation operated by the company, alleging the firm of utilizing government property.
Two years after the initial takeover, the organization secured official acknowledgment that the corporation did not legally own the parcel of land cultivated by the company. “This document was a victory not just for the local land rights movement but for all the social movements of Brazil,” says a community member who was raised in the settlement and is now one of the leaders of the movement.
Following many years of obstacles and legal battles, the Bahia state government signed an agreement with the company and the organization in 2016, restoring 1,300 hectares of corporate property to the public domain and providing each family a plot sufficiently sized to cultivate their crops. Of the sixty-one households staying, fifty-three have relocated into their assigned lands.
“Winning a right to the property means that we now have a place to look after our children,” says the community leader.
Despite losing the land, a company representative asserts that the company has always functioned with “openness, community and ecological accountability” and consideration for the local population. “The corporation has never been found guilty of illegal land acquisition and reaffirms that its production areas are lawfully governed and operate with the necessary ecological licenses.”
Yet, in the years since the agreement, the households say they have experienced death threats, shooting incidents, burned homes, stolen produce and destroyed fields.
According to the organization, the dispute now focuses on plots of land that remain occupied by agricultural workers affiliated with the local union. When it was about to lose possession of the contested land, the company gave 300 nearby hectares to the union – a donation verified by the union’s leadership.
“We face significant harassment occurring in this area. Our shelters have been burned down, as well as our cane plantations.”
During the last four years, six organizers of the organization have been assigned protective monitoring by the national defense system for human rights defenders, journalists and environmentalists. The authorities has suggested that some of these leaders relocate, but due to dedication to the cause and bond to their fought-for property, they have declined.
Because of the death threats he has received, a community pioneer says he has difficulty resting at night. “I feel genuinely fearful that an incident may occur to my family,” he says.
The movement states that eight families do not feel sufficiently secure to farm their lands, which remain occupied by agricultural workers allegedly associated with the corporation.
The company says that over the past 15 years, it has designated “over 49,000 acres to agrarian reform initiatives, whether through court settlements, donations to the federal land reform agency, donations, or direct sales, to settle persistent disputes in the territory.”
The company also says “the creation of the settlements – from design to parceling and plot allocation – was conducted entirely by the regional authorities, without involvement from the corporation”, and “declines to discuss disputes among activist groups”.
A community member is among the two individuals who still live in the old encampment. She says she has been intimidated by armed men who surrounded her house and shot at the ground. Because there are no neighbors close, the woman – who lives alone – believes the gunshots were meant to intimidate her out of taking possession of her allocated land.
During August, the state of Bahia authorised the removal of union farmers who remain on settlement properties – but the decision has yet to be enforced.
Environmental Challenges and the ‘Green Desert’
Besides defending against threats and violence, converting lands previously utilized for eucalyptus monoculture into food production is now the main challenge for the Baixa Verde communities. Tree cultivation is dominated by large multinationals that, since the 1960s, have been converting farmland and forest into monoculture plantations, motivated by global demand.
Brazil is the global leading grower of the tree species, a rapidly developing, thirsty crop, whose pulp is shipped abroad to make packaging materials and writing materials. The majority of the nation’s tree fiber is exported to Europe, where it is utilized for creating stationery items often promoted as a sustainable substitute to plastics – despite the environmental damage caused by monoculture.
Within Bahia state, the proliferation of these plantations has earned the local moniker “green desert”, due to the disappearance of native species and the severe shortage of resources and territory faced by households residing close to eucalyptus plantations.
One community leader grew up in the region and remembers the river before the region was changed by single-crop tree farming. “We used to cross it in a canoe. It was full,” he says. “Following corporate establishment, it dried up.” He links the resource shortage to the company’s arrival in 1991.
The company says it “implements a varied management approach, in which eucalyptus is cultivated in plateau areas, while valleys, springs and native vegetation are preserved. This model guarantees ground conservation, wildlife conservation and the maintenance of water resources.” The company also says it “conducts continuous monitoring of small watersheds in its area of operation” and “develops reforestation and forest restoration projects in locations adjacent to settlements”.
In the neighbouring state of Minas Gerais, the eucalyptus region of Turmalina has seen its groundwater level drop by 15 feet over the past 45 years, according to researchers at the state university.
Vegetation under eucalyptus monoculture takes in just over a quarter of precipitation to replenish aquifer reserves – versus a half of rainfall intake associated with native forest. Three-quarters of farming families interviewed in the state reported their crops being affected by the scarcity.
The cultivation of eucalyptus also poses an increased risk of wildfire. Plantations are so flammable that Chile rejected the species as a practical environmental answer after a series of large wildfires in its domestic plantations.
Despite the environmental risks, eucalyptus plantations continue to play a significant role in the emissions trading system, with trees being sold as emission offsets to petroleum companies to offset their emissions. Although facing resistance from activists, in {
