The timing of the first of several recent anti-gentrification protests in Mexico City was no coincidence - 4 July, US Independence Day. Demonstrators gathered in Parque México in Condesa district – the epicentre of gentrification in the Mexican capital – to protest over a range of grievances.
Most were angry at exorbitant rent hikes, unregulated holiday lettings, and the endless influx of Americans and Europeans into the city's trendy neighbourhoods like Condesa, Roma and La Juárez, forcing out long-term residents.
In Condesa alone, estimates suggest that as many as one in five homes is now a short-term let or a tourist dwelling. Others also cited more prosaic changes, like restaurant menus in English, or milder hot sauces at the taco stands to cater for sensitive foreign palates.
But as it moved through the gentrified streets, the initially peaceful protest turned ugly. Radical demonstrators attacked coffee shops and boutique stores aimed at tourists, smashing windows, intimidating customers, spraying graffiti and chanting Fuera Gringo!, meaning Gringos Out!.
At her next daily press conference, President Claudia Sheinbaum condemned the violence as xenophobic. No matter how legitimate the cause, as is the case with gentrification, the demand cannot be to simply say 'Get out!' to people of other nationalities inside our country, she said.
Masked radicals and agitators aside though, the motivation for most people who turned out on 4 July was stories like Erika Aguilar's. After more than 45 years of her family renting the same Mexico City apartment, the beginning of the end came with a knock at the door in 2017.
Long-term residents of the Prim Building, a 1920s architectural gem located in La Juárez district, they were visited by officials clutching eviction papers. Erika, the eldest daughter, recalls the shocking news: They came to every apartment in the building and told us we had until the end of the month to vacate the premises, as they weren't going to renew our rental contracts.
The owners were selling to a real estate company. But they gave the residents a final, albeit unrealistic offer, stating that if they could raise 53m pesos (approximately $2.9m) in two weeks, they could keep the building.
It's a fortune! New apartments were available for around one to 1.5m pesos ($50,000 to $80,000) back then, Erika recalled, clearly frustrated.
Today, her old home is covered by tarpaulin and scaffolding, as a construction team converts it into luxury one, two and three-bed apartments designed for short and medium-term rentals, as the company's website boasts.
Erika and her family now live so far out of the city centre that they are officially in the neighbouring state, almost two hours away by public transport. Activist Sergio González refers to this as losing the right of centrality, with everything that entails.
His group has recorded more than 4,000 cases of forced displacement of residents with roots from La Juárez district over the past decade. He was one of them. We are facing what we call an urban war, he says at one of the subsequent anti-gentrifications protests.
Claudia Sheinbaum's critics say she failed to meaningfully tackle the issue when she was the capital's mayor while actively enticing foreigners to resettle in Mexico City by signing partnerships with Airbnb to boost tourism in 2022.
Despite the protests, many foreign visitors express a desire to relocate to Mexico City, lured by lower living costs and a vibrant culture. The tension continues to grow as the divide between locals and gentrifiers widens, raising questions about who has the right to call this vibrant city home.
Most were angry at exorbitant rent hikes, unregulated holiday lettings, and the endless influx of Americans and Europeans into the city's trendy neighbourhoods like Condesa, Roma and La Juárez, forcing out long-term residents.
In Condesa alone, estimates suggest that as many as one in five homes is now a short-term let or a tourist dwelling. Others also cited more prosaic changes, like restaurant menus in English, or milder hot sauces at the taco stands to cater for sensitive foreign palates.
But as it moved through the gentrified streets, the initially peaceful protest turned ugly. Radical demonstrators attacked coffee shops and boutique stores aimed at tourists, smashing windows, intimidating customers, spraying graffiti and chanting Fuera Gringo!, meaning Gringos Out!.
At her next daily press conference, President Claudia Sheinbaum condemned the violence as xenophobic. No matter how legitimate the cause, as is the case with gentrification, the demand cannot be to simply say 'Get out!' to people of other nationalities inside our country, she said.
Masked radicals and agitators aside though, the motivation for most people who turned out on 4 July was stories like Erika Aguilar's. After more than 45 years of her family renting the same Mexico City apartment, the beginning of the end came with a knock at the door in 2017.
Long-term residents of the Prim Building, a 1920s architectural gem located in La Juárez district, they were visited by officials clutching eviction papers. Erika, the eldest daughter, recalls the shocking news: They came to every apartment in the building and told us we had until the end of the month to vacate the premises, as they weren't going to renew our rental contracts.
The owners were selling to a real estate company. But they gave the residents a final, albeit unrealistic offer, stating that if they could raise 53m pesos (approximately $2.9m) in two weeks, they could keep the building.
It's a fortune! New apartments were available for around one to 1.5m pesos ($50,000 to $80,000) back then, Erika recalled, clearly frustrated.
Today, her old home is covered by tarpaulin and scaffolding, as a construction team converts it into luxury one, two and three-bed apartments designed for short and medium-term rentals, as the company's website boasts.
Erika and her family now live so far out of the city centre that they are officially in the neighbouring state, almost two hours away by public transport. Activist Sergio González refers to this as losing the right of centrality, with everything that entails.
His group has recorded more than 4,000 cases of forced displacement of residents with roots from La Juárez district over the past decade. He was one of them. We are facing what we call an urban war, he says at one of the subsequent anti-gentrifications protests.
Claudia Sheinbaum's critics say she failed to meaningfully tackle the issue when she was the capital's mayor while actively enticing foreigners to resettle in Mexico City by signing partnerships with Airbnb to boost tourism in 2022.
Despite the protests, many foreign visitors express a desire to relocate to Mexico City, lured by lower living costs and a vibrant culture. The tension continues to grow as the divide between locals and gentrifiers widens, raising questions about who has the right to call this vibrant city home.
