When Nayib Bukele initiated his presidential campaign in the eastern region of La Unión in 2018, the outsider politician stood amid a large crowd of supporters, pledging to construct a new airport. The eastern area of El Salvador, including La Unión, has long been overlooked by successive governments, facing neglect in infrastructure development and pervasive poverty.
Only a month later, Bukele made a trip to Germany to advocate for his project. “Munich airport is keen on managing our new airport set to be built in La Unión,” he announced.
As the years passed, the airport proposal seemed to lose momentum. However, last year marked a shift: as the staunch president campaigned for re-election, his administration expedited the project. After winning re-election in February 2024, Bukele – who has branded himself the “world’s coolest dictator” – commenced the groundwork for a runway for the new Pacific Airport, which will be situated in one of the nation’s remaining mangrove forests.
For the Salvadoran government, the airport is not merely an isolated venture, but integral to a broader vision: the “Bitcoin City,” another ambitious commitment from Bukele’s administration. His vision includes a tax-free economic center, with the airport playing a crucial role in attracting international investors and cryptocurrency entrepreneurs.
Elmer Martínez’s family was among 225 households displaced from their community, Flor de Mangle, and the adjacent El Condadillo, to accommodate the 3km runway.
Martínez, a local advocate for the indigenous peoples of El Salvador, and his neighbors were first contacted by government officials in 2022. Over the following years, they endured what they characterized as “predatory negotiations” to sell their homes for what they consider “insufficient compensation”.
Mangroves have experienced significant decline over the last century. The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations reports that at least 20% of the world’s mangrove forests have vanished since 1980, with El Salvador’s loss being significantly higher: 60% in the last fifty years.
La Unión’s mangrove forest, one of El Salvador’s last saltwater ecosystems, forms part of the Gulf of Fonseca conservation area. This habitat supports diverse wildlife, including the critically endangered yellow-naped amazon (Amazona auropalliata).
Mangroves are vital for nutrient cycling, explains Olga Tejada, a biologist at the University of El Salvador. “They nourish the entire ecosystem and the communities that rely on them, while also sequestering significant amounts of carbon dioxide, aiding in climate change mitigation,” she states. “However, they are delicate. Even minor alterations in soil salinity can result in extensive root damage.”
Research indicates that intact mangrove forests can dramatically reduce hurricane impact. Studies have shown that deforestation in Guerrero, Mexico exacerbated the destruction caused by Hurricane Otis in 2023. La Unión’s mangroves provide a similar protective function, shielding coastal communities from increasingly frequent extreme weather events attributed to climate change.
The implications of constructing an airport on former mangrove land extend beyond environmental harm, potentially jeopardizing the viability of the project itself. “Mangroves thrive in soft, unstable soil,” Tejada explains. “Even if sediment solidifies, building an airport on it in a highly seismic nation like El Salvador could pose significant stability risks.”
She cites the 2001 earthquake, registering at a magnitude of 7.7, which liquefied parts of the mangrove forest.
While the government promotes the La Unión airport as a transformative project for the region’s economy, opponents argue that the rewards will be confined to a select few.
Bukele contests this view. “In a decade, the airport is anticipated to generate 50,000 direct and indirect jobs, contributing 1.5% to GDP each year, according to feasibility studies,” he stated during a recent ceremony to lay the foundation stone, last month.
The president envisions the airport as a significant asset to make Bitcoin City appealing for crypto-enthusiasts to reside, with a dedicated train line linking the city to the airport and port.
However, many locals assert that they are being excluded from the prospects that corporate tourism companies will capitalize on. “They assure us this will bring prosperity, but we’re unable to invest. The little compensation they’re offering barely allows for the purchase of a house, let alone land for farming,” states Adan Sosa, an agricultural worker who reports being offered $75,000 (£58,000) for his home and a separate plot for his crops.
The escalating land costs near the airport have rendered it nearly impossible for small enterprises and local merchants to thrive in the emerging economy, raising questions about who will genuinely gain from this development.
Land prices in the vicinity have risen by as much as 3,200% since 2000, making ownership unattainable for the majority of residents.
For Dimas Bautista, a founding member of the community and a lifelong fisher, the repercussions are becoming apparent. “A few months back, the government barred us from passing through the construction site to reach the mangroves, forcing us to take longer and riskier routes,” he laments.
Bautista asserts that the airport endangers the livelihoods of individuals like himself, who rely on the mangrove’s resources: “The animals are already leaving. Those that can’t migrate will very likely face extinction. Once they are gone, so too will our ability to provide food for our families.”
The Bukele administration has exhibited a trend of environmental deregulation, including the reversal of El Salvador’s mining ban, a $1 billion (£770 million) increase in construction initiatives since his initial term, and a continuous push for monoculture agriculture such as sugar cane.
Tejada points out that mangroves are often targeted due to their government ownership, making them available for lease to private entities. “Many mangroves were previously owned by individuals, and often no one noticed when a concessioned area comprising 100 acres [40 hectares] of mangrove was oddly diminished to half of its original size,” she explains.
Alongside escalating sea levels and agrochemical contamination, activists contend that rampant urban expansion poses a growing threat to El Salvador’s mangroves. The Bukele administration has already expedited significant projects, such as the railway link connecting La Unión to the rest of the country. Conservationists are concerned that this rapid development will undermine ecosystems that have protected coastal communities for generations.
For Martínez and his neighbors, the eradication of the mangroves transcends mere deforestation – it’s a matter of survival. “They transformed our home into a graveyard,” he laments, gazing over the barren land where a freshwater spring once thrived. “First, the forest withers, then the water dissipates. Ultimately, we perish too.”
