How Mexico City's Green Lung Caught a Case of the Luxury Flats

In a world where green spaces in major cities are as rare as an honest politician, the fate of Chapultepec Forest, the historic green lung of Mexico City, hangs in the balance. At the heart of this controversy lies a 4,799-square-meter plot of conservation land at Montes Apalaches #525, located in the leafy, affluent Virreyes neighborhood of Lomas de Chapultepec. Normally, you’d think these 4,799 square meters would be left alone, nestled within the verdant sprawl of Chapultepec Forest. But no, because nothing can stay that simple when real estate money enters the frame.

The Fourth District Judge in Administrative Matters recently decreed that Mexico City’s Congress should modify the zoning for this slice of Chapultepec’s conservation land to allow for housing construction. Yes, you heard it right: housing, in the middle of what’s practically a shrine to greenery and fresh air in a smog-drenched city. Naturally, the city’s Head of Government, Clara Brugada Molina, stood up in a fury to tell Congress members, activists, and anyone with ears that the forest is not up for sale—not to luxury apartment developers, not to anyone.

But how did we end up here? Let’s pull back the curtain on this tragicomedy of miscommunication, legal loopholes, and the audacity of those who seem to think a forest’s primary purpose is to be paved.

Our story begins in 1992, when the government of then-mayor Manuel Camacho Solís boldly declared the land at Montes Apalaches 525 to be of conservation and environmental value. It was a stroke of bureaucratic brilliance aimed at preserving Chapultepec Forest from the steady march of urban sprawl. But fast forward to 2004, when the real estate company Trepi filed a lawsuit, claiming the land had been improperly seized. In a Kafkaesque twist of fate, Trepi won their case, setting off nearly two decades of wrangling over this precious piece of real estate.

In theory, the courts decreed that the land should be returned to Trepi. But in practice, Congress had to decide if they’d actually let the land use designation change. Enter the Fourth District Judge, who recently ruled that Congress should, without further debate, change the zoning designation from “conservation” to “residential.” This legal footnote is the keystone on which Trepi’s dream of building high-rises in Chapultepec rests.

To say Brugada is opposed to the change would be the understatement of the century. She took to the podium, not with a diplomatic statement, but with the kind of rhetoric usually reserved for political revolutions, calling the judge’s decision an “excessive” overreach. “A judge cannot force 66 popular representatives to abdicate their obligations,” she declared, adding that Chapultepec Forest, one of the city’s greatest treasures, shouldn’t be at the mercy of “a few people” eager to cement their financial futures.

It’s easy to see why she’s fired up. Chapultepec Forest isn’t just a bunch of trees. It’s a sanctuary for dozens of species, a cultural icon, and the city’s unofficial air purifier. For Brugada, losing even a fraction of the forest to high-rise apartments would be nothing less than sacrilege. After all, the government, under former president Andrés Manuel López Obrador, funneled a staggering 10.5 billion pesos into the “Chapultepec: Nature and Culture” program to improve the park for locals and tourists alike. That investment isn’t just financial; it’s also emotional, cultural, and environmental.

The Usual Suspects

Enter the National Action Party (PAN), who have thrown their political weight behind Trepi’s cause. PAN’s parliamentary group recently filed a motion urging Congress to obey the court’s ruling and change the zoning to residential. Apparently, PAN believes that the city’s residents would benefit more from a row of luxury apartments than from a forest—a forest that’s one of the city’s only places where people can escape the endless grind of urban life.

The PAN’s proposal has, unsurprisingly, met fierce resistance from nearly everyone else in Congress. The Morena Party, which counts Brugada among its allies, has accused the PAN of placing profit over the public good. Morena’s deputy Víctor Hugo Romo, himself a former mayor of Miguel Hidalgo (where the land in question is located), was unequivocal. "Thirty-five percent of the third section of the forest would be lost," Romo warned, adding that this change would hand developers untold wealth at the expense of the public.

It’s rare to see such unity in Mexican politics, but the threat to Chapultepec Forest has managed to unite Morena with opposition parties PRI and Movimiento Ciudadano. Even activists, who typically avoid meddling in legislative matters, have staged protests, chanting for the land to remain as it was meant to be: green, serene, and free from the invasive species known as “luxury developers.”

As the saga grows messier, Fourth District Judge Juan Pablo Gómez Fierro has stepped forward to clarify that he’s not some judicial puppetmaster pulling strings to bulldoze Chapultepec Forest. He took pains to explain that he wasn’t even involved when the original 2004 ruling came down. "I did not participate in the knowledge of that matter," he asserted, pointing out that at the time, he was still in law school. Even today, he insists that any responsibility for the ruling falls on local courts rather than the federal judiciary.

In short, Gómez Fierro is caught in a classic case of “wrong place, wrong time,” though that doesn’t absolve the fact that someone, somewhere, in a position of authority, has decided that the green heart of Mexico City is ripe for redevelopment.

The Final Stand

What happens next is anyone’s guess. Congress faces a difficult choice: adhere to a court ruling that undermines their authority or stand firm against the pressure and defend Chapultepec Forest. Either way, they’re playing a dangerous game. Buckling under judicial pressure risks setting a precedent where courts can reshape Mexico City’s landscape with a stroke of the pen. But resisting means risking their positions and facing possible contempt charges.

Meanwhile, environmentalists and activists continue to rally public support, reminding everyone that this is not merely a legal dispute—it’s a fight for the city’s soul. The message is clear: Chapultepec Forest is not for sale. It’s not for rent, and it’s not available for a short-term lease.

In a city suffocating under a blanket of smog, where residents are starved for green spaces, Chapultepec stands as a bastion of environmental sanity. The question is whether the city’s leaders have the backbone to keep it that way. And if they don’t? Well, they’d better be ready for a different kind of storm—one that comes not from the courts, but from the very people they’re supposed to represent.