Real Estate ‘Cartel’ Squeezes Tulum as Businesses Shutter, Locals Cry Foul

Tulum, Quintana Roo — The once-booming tourist destination of Tulum is experiencing a sharp economic downturn, with at least 30 businesses in its iconic hotel zone shutting down in recent months. Local merchants and artisans say they are facing the worst sales slump of their lives, and many blame a coordinated effort by powerful real estate developers to force them out.

Victor Chavez de la Torre, a resident of more than 40 years, described the situation as a deliberate strategy. “It’s a strategic crash engineered by millionaires because there are real estate cartels,” he said. “They are creating chaos to buy cheap. They want to build a mega-development like Cancun or Miami.”

Chavez said he faces daily pressure from opaque lawsuits, bureaucratic hurdles, and economic uncertainty designed to wear him down. “There is so much money worldwide that they want us all to leave, they want me to leave. They are making my life impossible. They want me to sell — cheap or expensive, but sell. This is my life, and I’m still here,” he said.

In central Tulum, businessman Leopoldo Cocom described a similar struggle. “It’s very bad. We’re not even at 15% of normal tourism. Sometimes we don’t sell a single peso. Many people are closing because no one can afford rent, taxes, and daily expenses,” he said.

Artisans near the archaeological zone are also suffering. Luis Delgado, a craftsman, said: “It’s been dead as always. We make one sale, two, or three at most, or sometimes nothing. People come in to look but not to buy.”

The crisis highlights a stark divide in Tulum. International travel magazines and digital campaigns continue to promote the destination as a luxury paradise, with high-end hotel and residential developments selling pre-construction units in dollars. But behind the glossy facade, the local economy that sustains the destination is crumbling.

Rapid growth in recent years has created a two-tiered Tulum: one of global capital projecting condominium towers over the jungle, and another of locals who can no longer afford basic services or the land they live on.

Tulum now faces a historic and painful crossroads. The question is not just about surviving a low season or waiting for mass flights to return. The real battle, playing out on the beaches and streets, is over identity and ownership: whether the future of the Mexican Caribbean will belong to the community that built it step by step, or whether it will be devoured by new money waiting patiently for the paradise to break so they can buy it at a bargain price.