TOCOA, Honduras — On a bright September afternoon, a barrage of seven bullets struck Juan López outside a modest church, ending the life of yet another environmental advocate in a nation plagued by corruption and drug trafficking. Six shots hit him in the chest and one in the head, with a masked assailant standing in front of his blood-stained truck—an all-too-familiar scene in Honduras, where advocates for nature often pay the ultimate price.
López’s assassination has sparked renewed demands for justice, echoing similar calls that followed the tragic murder of environmentalist Berta Cáceres in 2016. The outcry has reached the highest levels, with responses from the Biden administration, the United Nations, and even Pope Francis, highlighting the ongoing peril faced by those who bravely stand up for environmental issues. As López’s friends and colleagues mourn his loss, they also recognize that his death underscores systemic failures in a government that once offered hope for meaningful change. “By killing Juan, they wanted to silence us, but the opposite has happened,” noted Dalila Santiago, a close ally of López’s efforts. “We have raised our voices and are demanding justice.”
In Honduras, advocating for environmental preservation comes with significant risks. Activists like López often become targets in a region notorious for high violence against environmental defenders. The organization Global Witness reports that at least 18 environmental advocates were murdered in the country last year alone. López and his community were actively challenging an iron oxide mining operation that allegedly has strong ties to the government and represents a web of corruption involving members of the political party supporting the Honduran president.
Communities surrounding the mine have articulated their concerns about environmental degradation, claiming it has encroached upon protected areas and contaminated local water sources, turning pristine rivers into murky streams. Local photographs depict the landscape being ravaged by heavy machinery and armed enforcers guarding mining operations. The companies involved—Inversiones Los Pinares, Inversiones Ecotek, and their parent entity—are currently facing prosecution for the environmental devastation they allegedly caused. While they assert that the project has provided numerous jobs to locals, the community feels otherwise about its impacts on the ecosystem.
At 46 years old, López was also vocal against corruption schemes that plagued Tocoa’s leadership, particularly targeting Mayor Adán Fúnez, a known ally of the current president who has openly endorsed the mining project. Carlos Orellana, a priest who collaborated with López, reflected on his vision for a sustainable future. “Those who protect the environment are aware they might be killed at any time because there is a lack of state protection,” he explained.
Since the mine’s inauguration in 2013, numerous environmental activists in the Colón region have reported death threats, been followed by suspicious vehicles, and experienced unjust detentions. Tragically, two members of López’s group, the Municipal Committee for the Defense of Common and Public Goods, were gunned down this year alone, forcing over 40 individuals to flee in search of safety in the United States.
In the aftermath of López’s death, an overwhelming sense of sorrow blankets the home he shared with his wife, Thelma Peña, where they raised their daughters. López often wrote poems filled with love and hope while navigating the constant fear for their safety. “We felt always under threat,” Peña recalled, narrating instances where they received kidnapping and torture threats.
Currently, state-issued bodyguards, masked and armed, constantly watch over the family. For her daughter’s recent birthday, Peña captured a moment with the guards, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy amidst chaos. Murals proclaiming “Justice for Juan” now greet travelers in Tocoa, while the church where he was murdered bears the scars of that day. Though the family has state protection and a limited financial stipend, the uncertainty of their future weighs heavily on Peña’s heart, filled with an indescribable emptiness.
President Xiomara Castro has labeled López’s death a “vile murder” and vowed to bring the perpetrators to justice. In October, authorities claimed to have detained three suspects connected to the crime, although the mastermind remains elusive. Government officials acknowledge the challenges of enforcing laws in remote areas.
When Castro was elected in 2021, many held high hopes for her administration to curb violence and tackle corruption in Honduras. López’s coalition celebrated her decision to suspend mining in protected areas, yet skepticism remains as local miners continue their operations, with residents hearing explosions echoing in nature reserves. “We can’t comprehend why these operations persist in our territories,” lamented Santiago. “The government appears to remain under the influence of powerful business interests and organized crime.”
Key figures like Mayor Fúnez lend support to mining operations. During a U.S. trial for a drug gang, an ex-member implicated Fúnez in assisting the organization. There are ongoing investigations into his administration’s alleged issuance of fake environmental permits. The mayor’s dubious connections were exposed in a widely shared video showing him with the president’s brother-in-law, discussing financial aid for a past political campaign. After the video surfaced, López publicly called for Fúnez’s resignation, a move that tragically predated his murder.
In the wake of the incident, Santiago recalled the resolve she and López shared to continue advocating for the land, promising that if one were to perish first, they would honor the other’s legacy through symbolic planting. Leaning over his grave, she planted yucas as a testament to his fierce spirit and whispered, “I never imagined I would be here.” Although fear looms over their movement, the fight to keep López’s legacy alive rages fiercely within them, propelling their commitment to seek justice and protect their environment against all odds.