The Sweet Poison: Coca-Cola’s Grip on Chiapas

Alejandra Rodriguez

“More than one in three people in rural areas do not have access to running water”  (Conagua). The lack of availability stands in stark contrast to the abundant rainfalls that the Mexican state of Chiapas experiences, illustrating that supply does not guarantee access. Chiapas has had serious problems  regarding its communal health due to the relationship between water scarcity and increased soft drink consumption. “My head has no strength. I almost can’t open my eyes,” says 23-year-old Ismael Jimenez, a resident of San Cristobal de las Casas, the cultural center of Chiapas. He has been battling diabetes for almost thirteen years–a disease that is becoming increasingly prevalent across the principality. Within the hub of San Cristobal, most residents, like Jimenez, receive water for a mere “three hours every two days” . Having a population of 5.6 million people, it sees over three thousand diabetes-related deaths each year. This epidemic is only one part of a greater crisis since many residents face intermittent access to running water. Such a distressing situation is the unfortunate reality for most of the residents of Chiapas, Mexico. Furthermore, local hospitals are constantly inundated with patients experiencing the symptoms of a diabetic emergency. Ranked #1 globally in Coca-Cola consumption, residents drink over two liters of soft drinks a day.  

Fomento Economico Mexicano S.A.B. (FEMSA), a Mexican multinational food and beverage conglomerate and established local producer of soft drinks, has taken advantage of scarce water resources. Their control has greatly contributed to communal health decline. Most residents consume Coke produced by the company, as it is easier to find than bottled water and is almost as cheap. Its plant has government-approved permits to extract more than “1.14 million liters every day from the nearby Huitepec volcano basin.” The scale of extraction exemplifies how Coca-Cola’s deep entanglement in local economies and politics enables disproportionate access to vital resources. The company contributes to thousands of jobs and billions of pesos in tax revenue, which incentivizes local and federal governments to turn a blind eye to environmental and health ramifications. As mentioned, Chiapas’s heavy rains contribute to it having the highest water per capita in the entirety of Mexico. Yet, FEMSA’s activities cause severe water stress, constraining resources. Industrial water extraction by soft-drink conglomerates also affects neighboring communities around San Cristobal, many of which are already marginalized. As a result, enterprise-induced water shortages often hit these impoverished communities the hardest. Gloria Alvarez, a mother of six, told Al Jazeera news that she often must travel “ thirty minutes or more by bus to find water.” These alarming accounts ultimately echo the divergent interests of community health advocates and corporations. While multinational beverage companies make full use of their government-issued permits to extract natural resources, local families are left to compete for what little remains. 

What was once viewed as flowing, abundant sources of nourishing water are now open sewers. For centuries, Chiapas was known for lush rivers, mountain springs, and reliable rainfall. Generations of local communities relied on these natural resources for various basic necessities, and also for regional agriculture. But over the past two decades, water quality and availability have drastically declined. Urban expansion, deforestation, and inadequate sewage treatment systems have polluted once-clear waterways. The exceedingly scarce amount of water that is present, however, is mostly tainted, rendering it undrinkable. San Cristobal’s groundwater has fecal contamination, where the  “annual probability of infection was higher than the safety threshold set by the Environmental Protection Agency”.  In other words, many locals who rely on untreated groundwater have a  high chance of getting infected with deadly bacteria like E.coli and other pathogens. With widespread contamination, it is no wonder that residents have low confidence in the cleanliness of available drinking water. Industrial bottling operations, such as Coca-Cola’s FEMSA plant, have further accelerated the decline, with over-extraction drying up local wells. As a result, locals only have sporadic access to chlorinated tap water or contaminated groundwater.

Bright splashes of red flank market sides and common gatherings. The dirt roads are contrasted with well-put-together billboards that depict a perfect and delicious treat - Coca-Cola.  These allured many consumers and also led to an association between sugary drinks and local religious practices among indigenous communities. Corporations would make attention-grabbing designs in the native language of the tribes, along with models in traditional Tzotzil garb. Although the strategy has since been discontinued as a gesture of cultural respect, many Chipias residents still do not perceive soft-drink beverages negatively.

The precarious state of local groundwater sources means that most residents rely on bottled water or, as indicated by rising diabetes rates within the community, Coca-Cola. The addictive and high-sugar properties of Coke create a never-ending cycle of consumer demand, with some falsely believing it is healthy. The widespread misconception stems from a mix of cultural normalization from years of acclimation, limited health education, and predatory marketing. Coke has also become a staple at family gatherings and religious ceremonies. This is especially concerning given Latino culture’s emphasis on communal events, as the association further lends it a sense of trust and necessity. Such a mentality and the dependency it fosters are being passed down to children who go to school  heavily stocked with Coke beverages. In San Cristobal and surrounding communities, Coca-Cola’s branding is omnipresent. Whether on school walls or nearby stores, children grow up seeing the drink in every part of their routine. 

Many Tzotzil, an indigenous group native to Mexico, believe that carbonated soda has medicinal qualities. This view is not merely symbolic; it actively defines day-to-day health practices. For instance, a New York Times article reported that a Chiapas resident, Mikael Ruiz, fervently believes that it helped cure her infant daughter, who had been experiencing persistent vomiting and diarrhea. Ruiz’s diabetic mother performs elaborate ‘soda ceremonies’ and has been doing so for more than forty years.  She believes the beverage can expel evil spirits, restore energy, and soothe internal ailments. 

“I don’t see why we should stop drinking it,” says Manuela Dias, another local, during her interview with Al Jazeera News. Manuela is a Tzotzil woman whose five-person family cultivates corn and vegetables in the hills above San Cristóbal. Their rural lifestyle offers little access to alternative drinking resources. Along with the Tzotzil,  many other groups exhibit similar habits. Without access to resources on the negative health effects of drinking soda, they are left to believe that there is nothing wrong with their diet. These views, which, as stated, falsely see soft drinks as having a medicinal property, are all too common among diabetes-ridden residents. Furthermore, these practices not only reflect cultural adaptation but also expose how corporate influence and government inaction have reshaped public health norms. 

Coca-Cola has several adverse health effects that are amplified by excessive consumption. Its high sugar content can directly contribute to weight gain,  obesity, and Type-2 diabetes. As one report from the National Institute of Health (NIH) notes, excessive intake of the drink “should therefore be replaced by healthy alternatives such as water, to reduce risk of obesity and chronic diseases.”  Despite these warnings, thousands of growing children within Chiapas regularly face these downsides. Caffeine in soda can disrupt crucial sleep patterns and lead to attention problems in the classroom. Soda-addicted children can also experience symptoms of withdrawal, setting them up on a path of lifelong chronic disease. As demonstrated, Chiapas residents are experiencing a myriad of deleterious health problems due to their dependency on Coca-Cola.  As a result, local healthcare workers are overworked by the influx of patients who share similar problems. Vicente Vaqueiros, a doctor at a San Juan Chamula (a municipality and township in Chiapas) clinic, told The New York Times that “health care workers were struggling” with Chiapas’s “surge in diabetes.” Vaqueiros also noted that when he was a child, there was no processed food, but now sees “kids drinking Coke and not water”. Such a drastic shift in the local diet is related to contracts between soft-drink corporations and the Mexican government. The rise of processed food and sugary beverages in Chiapas is not simply a matter of consumer choice, but also a product of strategic contracts, permissive regulations, and aggressive marketing campaigns. This dynamic has created a landscape where corporate products saturate daily life so thoroughly that they shape not only diets, but also cultural identity, health norms, and even childhood upbringing.

Multiple environmental and civil rights groups published a 2017 report which found that “[FEMSA pays] 2,600 pesos ($155) for each water permit in Mexico”.  These favorable deals are often due to the strong connections between industry leaders and congressional, bureaucratic, and local government institutions. Such low-cost access to vital natural resources reflects the widespread corruption within the Mexican government, where corporate lobbying and political donations speak louder than public interest. This deal serves as a segue for multinational corporations to extract massive volumes of water, deepening inequality and accelerating health decline within its diverse communities. The poor infrastructure and rapid urbanization of Chiapas create a means for water supply issues to occur. According to Raúl Rodríguez, President of Mexico’s Water Advisory Council, “the state and municipal governments must invest more economic resources to ensure the supply of water to the population” (Aljazeera 2025). Yet, his call for public investment is at odds with local administrators, who often divert resources or delay infrastructure improvements. 

One potential solution to Mexico’s struggle against soft-drink conglomerates would be to improve education access among indigenous groups, thus informing them of Coca-Cola’s negative health effects. A potential solution would be to establish educational networks of health professionals who speak native languages. These group sessions could teach nutrition, diabetes prevention, and healthy dietary habits through a culturally sensitive lens. Companeros en Salud, a Mexico-based non-governmental organization (NGO), has already attempted such a program. In order to communicate messages more effectively, visual storytelling could be employed through murals, graphics, and other forms of visual media. As Maria de Lourdes Morales-Vargas, a researcher at local college in Chiapas, writes in her study on urban muralism in San Cristobal, “Murals become a form of public dialogue–accessible, emotional, and rooted in local identity”. Culturally-conscious messaging ensures vital information is not lost in translation and remains easily understandable to indigenous audiences. Along with these efforts, a school curriculum could also be implemented so that young students are encouraged early on to prioritize drinking water over sugary drinks. Regarding the pressing problem of safe consumption, water-related infrastructure can be built through collaboration with NGOs, like Cantaro Azul, to install safe water kiosks and filtration systems. Existing artesian wells could also be repaired, along with rainwater catchment systems. Fixing in-place infrastructure, while building new projects as well, effectively ensures that public water access points are both free and reliable. 

Addressing water accessibility issues requires realistic community-driven solutions. An effective approach involves collaboration with NGOs, which have already installed affordable, safe drinking water fountains. Furthermore, restoring local artesian wells – which have fallen into disrepair due to over-extraction – can restore communal access to naturally pressurized groundwater. When properly maintained, these wells offer a reliable source of clean water without needing electricity or complex infrastructure. Another viable solution, rainwater catchment systems, when paired with basic filtration, drastically reduces dependence on bottled beverages and contaminated groundwater. Most importantly, these rebuilding efforts must be paired with public education initiatives delivered through local languages and culturally-conscious visual media. Yet, without addressing the deeply entrenched plutocratic ties between corporations and government, these efforts will likely be in vain. Reducing connections is critical to protecting public health and local environments against corporate interests. Doing so would help reverse decades of predatory marketing, and subsequent misconceptions about sugary drinks. What began as a drink has become a doctrine, poured into generations who deserve water, not worship.

(This article was originally printed in the Fall 2025 edition of our print magazine. To see the entire magazine, click here.)