Geometrically precise lines of eucalyptus clones flank the Baixa Verde community in north-eastern Brazil. The uniform trees stand in stark contrast to the remnants of native Atlantic woodland, one of the most biologically diverse ecosystems globally.
Bordered by close to 247,000 acres of eucalyptus plantations, Baixa Verde represents a rare community triumph over a multinational in Brazil. This agricultural community exists today due to nearly two decades of court disputes over land rights – but the fight is not over yet.
After fighting to keep their territory, the households now confront an unprecedented security crisis characterized by violent encounters, arson and death threats, within a surge of aggression driven by a land dispute that has escalated since 2024.
Conflicts over property ownership have long been an issue in the region. Obtaining property titles is commonly deemed to legitimise land grabs from traditional communities, and residents had believed that a pulp-production company was planting eucalyptus trees on public land.
In 2008, one of the founders of the Baixa Verde settlement and another community member examined public records to inspect official papers. They found the page that proved the 3,200 acres in dispute were owned by the government. “We always knew that it was public land,” says the founder.
Armed with this evidence, they organized ninety-one area households and joined the Movement of Landless Workers, a political and social organisation advocating for land redistribution. Their initial step was to occupy an area of a eucalyptus plantation operated by the corporation, accusing the company of utilizing government property.
Following two years after the original occupation, the organization won state recognition that the corporation did not have legal title to the property section planted by the firm. “This ruling was a triumph not just for the community property campaign but for all the civil society groups of the country,” says a settlement resident who was raised in the settlement and is now a key organizer of the movement.
Following many years of roadblocks and legal battles, the Bahia state government reached a settlement with the company and the organization in 2016, returning 1,300 hectares of corporate property to the government and giving each household a parcel sufficiently sized to cultivate their crops. Of the 61 families remaining, fifty-three have relocated into their new plots.
“Securing entitlement to the property means that we now have a place to look after our children,” says the community leader.
Although forfeiting the property, a company representative asserts that the company has always functioned with “transparency, community and ecological accountability” and consideration for the local population. “The company has never been convicted of land grabbing and reaffirms that its operational zones are lawfully governed and operate with the required environmental permits.”
Yet, in the time following the settlement, the households say they have experienced life-threatening warnings, gunfire, destroyed residences, taken crops and destroyed fields.
According to the organization, the dispute now focuses on plots of land that remain inhabited by farmers affiliated with the local union. When it was about to lose possession of the disputed property, the company gave 300 nearby hectares to the union – a donation confirmed by the organization’s directors.
“There is a lot of persecution occurring in this area. Our tents have been set on fire, as well as our sugarcane fields.”
During the last four years, six organizers of the movement have been placed under protective watch by Brazil’s protection programme for human rights defenders, journalists and ecology advocates. The government has suggested that some of these leaders relocate, but out of loyalty to the movement and connection with their hard-won land, they have declined.
Because of the death threats he has obtained, one founder says he has difficulty resting at night. “I feel genuinely fearful that an incident may occur to my household,” he says.
The organization states that eight households do not feel sufficiently secure to cultivate their plots, which remain inhabited by agricultural workers allegedly associated with the company.
The company says that during the previous fifteen years, it has allocated “more than 20,000 hectares to land redistribution programs, whether through judicial agreements, donations to the federal land reform agency, gifts, or direct sales, to resolve ongoing conflicts in the territory.”
The company also says “the creation of the settlements – from design to subdivision and lot definition – was conducted entirely by the regional authorities, without involvement from the corporation”, and “does not comment on disputes among activist groups”.
One resident is among the two individuals who still live in the original settlement. She says she has been harassed by armed men who surrounded her house and shot at the ground. Because there are no neighbors close, the woman – who resides by herself – believes the gunshots were meant to intimidate her out of taking possession of her allocated land.
During August, the Bahia state government approved the eviction of labor group-associated agricultural workers who remain on Baixa Verde lots – but the ruling has yet to be enforced.
Environmental Challenges and the ‘Green Desert’
Besides defending against threats and violence, converting lands once used for eucalyptus monoculture into agricultural cultivation is now the main challenge for the settlement residents. Eucalyptus production is dominated by large multinationals that, from the 1960s onward, have been converting farmland and forest into single-crop farms, driven by global demand.
The country is the world’s largest producer of the tree species, a fast-growing, water-intensive plant, whose fiber is exported to make cardboard and writing materials. The majority of the nation’s tree fiber is exported to Europe, where it is utilized for creating paper products often promoted as a renewable alternative to synthetic materials – despite the environmental damage resulting from single-crop farming.
Within Bahia state, the expansion of these farms has received the regional nickname “green desert”, due to the disappearance of native species and the severe shortage of resources and territory experienced by families living near eucalyptus plantations.
One community leader grew up in the region and recalls the waterway before the area was transformed by single-crop tree farming. “We used to cross it in a boat. It was abundant,” he says. “Following corporate establishment, it disappeared.” He links the resource shortage to the company’s arrival in 1991.
The corporation says it “adopts a mosaic management system, in which eucalyptus is cultivated in elevated regions, while lowlands, water sources and indigenous plants are protected. This model ensures soil protection, animal habitat preservation and the maintenance of water resources.” The company also says it “performs ongoing observation of small watersheds in its operational zone” and “creates tree-planting and woodland renewal initiatives in locations adjacent to settlements”.
Within the adjacent region of Minas Gerais, the eucalyptus region of Turmalina municipality has seen its groundwater level decrease by 4.5 metres over the past 45 years, per scientific studies at the state university.
Vegetation under eucalyptus monoculture takes in just over a quarter of precipitation to replenish aquifer reserves – versus a 50% level of absorption linked to native forest. Three-quarters of farming families surveyed in Minas Gerais reported their crops being affected by the shortage.
The cultivation of eucalyptus also poses an increased risk of forest fire. Plantations are so flammable that Chile rejected the species as a viable climate solution after a series of large wildfires in its national farms.
Notwithstanding ecological dangers, commercial tree farms continue to have an important function in the carbon market, with plants being marketed as carbon credits to fossil fuel polluters to counterbalance their pollution. Despite opposition from campaigners, in {
