Authorities have lifted a U.S. security alert that halted avocado exports from Michoacán, Mexico’s main avocado-producing state, allowing thousands of tons of avocados to resume traveling to the United States.

Avocado Industry Reacts to Restart of Exports

For Francisco Isidro, a 39-year-old Mexican avocado picker with two decades of experience, the lifting of the U.S. security alert was a welcome relief. On the morning after the alert was lifted, Isidro threw a rope over an avocado tree about 20 feet high and climbed up. Fifteen minutes later, he had filled a box with avocados bound for the United States.

“Thank God … and now we’re getting paid!” Isidro shouted happily after several days without work. The workers were happy to get their daily wages back. Some producers hoped the increased security would reduce violence and extortion. Others feared the calm would not last long.

“We’ll be safe for a while, we’ll see what happens next,” said Valentín Rodríguez, a longtime avocado industry businessperson. Rodríguez has come to consider extortion an unavoidable production cost. A producer from Michoacán told The Associated Press recently that he pays 1 peso per kilo exported in extortion fees and exports about 90 metric tons a day, which amounts to more than $5,000 in daily payments.

Michoacán is Mexico’s main avocado-producing state and a region where four cartels designated by the Trump administration as terrorist organizations operate. By the weekend, orchards were operating again, packing plants were running at full speed, and U.S. Department of Agriculture inspectors had returned to certify the fruit and ensure it was free of pests before entering the United States.

But despite the restart of exports, concerns about security remain. Luis Manuel Soto, a 36-year-old grower and packer from western Michoacán, hopes the increased security will bring improvements. However, he has not felt them yet.

Soto has been a victim of extortion and has received threats from armed men. In 2024, he was pulled from his vehicle and threatened to be killed unless he paid them and withdrew a complaint over extortion and an attempt to seize his orchards. The threats have continued by phone, and Soto now divides his time between occasional visits to his orchards, managing his businesses and social projects remotely, and going to prosecutors’ offices to request protection.

Residents in the area welcome the military presence, but it also scares them a little because it could lead to confrontations with some of the groups.

Avocado Exports and Security Concerns

More than 90 miles away, in the town of Tacámbaro, an engineer at an avocado packing plant received the alert in the early hours of the morning: The facility should be kept sealed and under quarantine. Some 200,000 people employed by Michoacán’s avocado industry were left in limbo.

Authorities did not say what threat triggered the alert. But in a state where numerous local cartels make money not only from drugs but also from extortion, there are plenty of possibilities. Trucks loaded with avocados are also sometimes robbed on roads in western Michoacán. And some farmworkers have been stopped and beaten by armed men near the border with Jalisco without being told why, according to one worker who spoke on condition of anonymity for fear of retaliation.

U.S. inspectors have been assaulted and temporarily detained in the past, triggering similar export suspensions. On some occasions, threats arose after inspectors detected pests and were pressured not to report them, said an official familiar with their work who spoke on condition of anonymity for security reasons.

Inspectors now have less of a presence in the orchards, which are located in isolated hills where armed groups operate with little interference, and concentrate on packing plants. “If the United States says that it is suspending technical services for security reasons, it’s impossible to export. If it’s for a plant health, it’s the same,” said Rodríguez, who grows, packs and sells avocados.

“We are at the mercy of whatever the U.S. market and government decide to do with the industry,” he added. There is also a political dimension, he said, adding that Mexico didn’t export avocados to the United States for eight decades after a worm was found in an avocado pit in 1914. The U.S. ban was lifted in 1997 as domestic production could no longer meet growing demand.

More than 80% of Mexican avocados are sold to the U.S. Thousands of tons of avocados travel daily to the United States, especially at the beginning of the year, when demand for guacamole surges ahead of the Super Bowl. To keep that volume moving, certification is key.

Isidro is a “certified” picker. He knows how to disinfect cutting tools before using them, handle the fruit quickly and carefully, and report any spots or damage. The orchards where he works are also certified, providing dining and bathroom facilities for workers.

Jesús Méndez, his supervisor, inspected the boxes before they were loaded onto a truck with the tracking details. The trucks wait until all those in the area are ready before traveling in convoys to packing plants, accompanied by police patrols to prevent robberies.

At the packing plants, inspections continue, checking quality, the fruit’s flesh and possible pests. The avocados then move along mechanical lines that sort them by size before workers place them into boxes. Once labeled and sealed, the trailers head for the U.S. border. At the slightest security alert, every point along the route can be brought to a standstill.

The deployment of more than 1,500 soldiers to protect Michoacán’s avocado-growing region and recent arrests of people allegedly involved in extortion have eased concerns, but only partially.