When most people think of vast jungles, their minds immediately travel to the Amazon. Yet tucked across southern Mexico, northern Guatemala, and western Belize lies another green giant: the Mayan Jungle. It is a sprawling, humid, and life-packed landscape that holds ancient ruins, scarlet-feathered birds, jaguars prowling in the shadows, and some of the most vital carbon-storing trees on Earth.
Now, for the first time in history, three nations—Mexico, Guatemala, and Belize—are joining forces to protect this natural treasure. Their plan is as ambitious as it is urgent: the creation of the Great Mayan Jungle Biocultural Corridor, a reserve stretching across borders and covering over 14 million acres (5.7 million hectares) of tropical forest.
If successful, it would rank as the second-largest protected area in the Americas, surpassed only by the Amazon rainforest. But the dream comes with a reality check—maintaining the corridor will mean taking on organized crime, resisting destructive development, and making sure local communities see real benefits from conservation.
A Forest Under Pressure
The Mayan Jungle, sometimes referred to as the Selva Maya, is the largest remaining tropical rainforest in Mesoamerica. It is home to thousands of plant species and more than 500 species of birds, along with iconic animals like tapirs, howler monkeys, and jaguars. Hidden beneath its thick canopy are also countless archaeological sites—many from the once-thriving Maya civilization that built towering pyramids and sprawling cities before their decline centuries ago.
Despite its natural wealth, the jungle is under siege. Ranchers clear land for cattle, loggers chop down valuable hardwoods, and miners dig for resources. Add to that the spread of illegal airstrips, which are used by drug traffickers to move cocaine and other substances north, and you have a forest that is as contested as it is valuable.
As Guatemala’s Environment Minister Patricia Orantes bluntly put it, “This is not primarily an environmental battle. It’s about the state reclaiming its territory from organized crime.”
Read more: Scientists Warn: Don’t Strip Moss Off Surfaces—It Absorbs Four Times More CO₂ Than Trees
The Security Challenge
Conservation in this region isn’t just about planting trees or drawing lines on maps. In many places, criminal groups hold more control than local governments. They exploit remote areas, smuggle migrants, and recruit impoverished communities into illegal industries.
Mexico’s Environment Secretary Alicia Bárcena admitted that this fight will need more than park rangers: “We’re not going to protect the forest ourselves. The security forces have to help, including the army.”
But there’s a delicate balance. Militarization alone doesn’t solve the problem. In Chiapas, on Mexico’s southern border, soldiers were deployed, yet organized crime continued to flourish by preying on struggling communities. That’s why experts argue that the solution has to include social and economic alternatives.
Turning Communities into Partners
One of the biggest lessons from past conservation efforts is clear: if local people don’t benefit, the forest doesn’t stand a chance.
Guatemalan lawyer and activist Rafael Maldonado stressed the importance of transforming communities once caught up in illegal activity into allies of the reserve. Without opportunities, many residents turn to logging, mining, or trafficking simply to survive.
That’s where Mexico’s “Planting Life” program comes in. The initiative pays farmers to plant trees—both fruit-bearing species and timber crops. In theory, it allows landowners to make a living while helping the environment. With a budget of around $2 billion, it is one of the largest tree-planting programs in the world.
But it hasn’t been without controversy. A 2021 study by the World Resources Institute found that in some areas, it inadvertently encouraged farmers to clear forests first so they could get paid to plant new trees. Officials now say they are revising the program to prevent such outcomes and to truly align it with conservation.
Mexican sustainability expert Juan Carlos Franco argued that while security and government oversight are essential, the real secret to success lies in community-led management. He pointed out that even in regions where crime is present, locals have developed creative ways to coexist and resist exploitation. “Communities oriented toward biocultural management of the territory can succeed despite crime,” he explained.
Read more: Norway Declares Nationwide Ban on Deforestation In World-First
What About the Maya Train?
While crime and logging present one threat, large-scale development projects pose another. Chief among them is Mexico’s controversial Maya Train—a 950-mile (1,500-kilometer) railway looping around the Yucatán Peninsula to connect tourist hubs and towns.
Supporters argue it will boost tourism and create jobs. Critics warn it risks slicing through fragile ecosystems and paving the way for unchecked urbanization. Although the train line doesn’t directly run through the new corridor, activists worry about the precedent it sets. If one megaproject is allowed, what’s to stop others from pushing into protected zones?
Guatemala has taken a firmer stance. President Bernardo Arévalo has already ended a petroleum company’s contract in the Maya Biosphere Reserve, signaling that fossil fuel extraction has no future in conservation lands. He also made it clear he won’t allow an extension of the Maya Train into Guatemala’s protected forests.
Belize, which is contributing a smaller but crucial section of land to the corridor, has expressed interest in the economic potential of the train. But it faces the same balancing act: how to develop without destroying the very ecosystems that make the country unique.
To safeguard the corridor, the three nations agreed to create both an environmental council and an Indigenous advisory council. These groups will review any proposed projects inside the reserve, ensuring that development doesn’t undo conservation gains.
Indigenous Voices at the Center
The Mayan Jungle is not just a biological treasure; it’s a cultural one. Indigenous peoples have lived in and cared for these forests for centuries. Their traditions, farming techniques, and ecological knowledge remain deeply tied to the land.
Many conservationists argue that Indigenous stewardship is one of the best guarantees for long-term protection. Studies have shown that forests managed by Indigenous groups often fare better than those overseen solely by government agencies.
By placing Indigenous representatives on the advisory council, the new reserve acknowledges that conservation is not just about saving trees and animals but also about preserving cultures, languages, and ways of life.
Why the Corridor Matters for the Planet
Protecting the Mayan Jungle isn’t just about local biodiversity. It also plays a role in the global climate crisis. Tropical forests act as massive carbon sinks, pulling carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and helping regulate Earth’s temperature.
If the corridor is preserved, it could prevent the release of millions of tons of greenhouse gases while continuing to absorb more each year. In other words, this forest doesn’t just matter to Mexico, Guatemala, and Belize—it matters to the whole world.
Funding and the Road Ahead
So how do you manage a reserve this vast? The three governments have set up a joint committee to design a roadmap within the coming month. The plan will determine who oversees what, how enforcement works, and how money flows into the project.
For now, Mexico’s Bárcena estimates they’ll be able to raise about $6 million to get started. That’s a modest figure compared to the corridor’s size, but it’s a beginning.
Skeptics remain cautious. Some activists, like Yucatán-based conservationist Pedro Uc, doubt the government’s sincerity given its ongoing support for megaprojects. Others, like Franco, believe the best path forward is to keep applying pressure while building alliances across borders.
Read more: What Really Happens To Your Body If You Drink From a Plastic Bottle Left in a Hot Car
A Rare Chance for Hope
The Mayan Jungle is often called the “lungs of Mesoamerica”—a place where ancient civilizations flourished, where jaguars still roam, and where communities continue to draw life from the land.
Its future now rests on an experiment in international cooperation. Can three countries, often facing their own political and economic struggles, come together to protect something that transcends borders?
Guatemala’s Orantes hopes so. As she put it, “We don’t want this to be just another international cooperation agenda, or a business agenda. We want it to be the agenda of the Maya forest.”
If successful, the Great Mayan Jungle Biocultural Corridor could become a global model: proof that environmental protection, cultural respect, and community well-being can all thrive together. If it fails, one of the last great jungles of the Americas risks becoming another casualty of crime, profit, and neglect.
For now, though, hope remains as alive as the jungle itself—buzzing with insects, echoing with howler monkeys, and shimmering with green as far as the eye can see.
