SEVILLE, Spain — A remarkable scene unfolded last weekend in Paiporta, a town of about 25,000 and a suburb of the Valencian metropolis on Spain’s eastern Mediterranean coast. Citizens turned to the royal couple, King Felipe VI and Queen Letizia, as they toured the damage from last week’s storms which left more than 200 dead.
A woman approached the queen who looked upset as another person could be heard protesting in the background uploaded the scene to social media. “Leticia, doña Leticia,” said the queen’s wife, using the Spanish word of respect for the monarch, who had mud on his jacket. She held the woman’s hands.
Another man approached the royal couple and told the king, “This government must go. Felipe, there are dead people in there, dude.
Two days later, this scene is still reverberating in Spain; ordinary citizens are not usually allowed that close to the royal couple, let alone speak to them so informally. The exchange has become a symbol of public anger here over the government’s response to the deadly storms. This public outrage grew in the cities devastated by the storm. But last Sunday, public outrage spilled out into the public eye.
The storm became the country’s worst natural disaster in recent memory. At least 215 are reported dead. There are still an unknown number of people unaccounted for as rescuers work intensively to access all affected locations.
Who is behind Sunday’s protests?
Arguments broke out during the visit of the monarchs to Paiporta, accompanied by Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez as well as Carlos Masson, president of the autonomous government of the Valencia region. Some people threw mud at the government contingent, shouted at them, cursed them, called them “murderers”, called on them to leave the city immediately. Objects were also thrown and a scene of chaos ensued.
What happened this morning is still unclear. Subsequent media reports reveal what may have been an orchestrated effort by the far-right to sabotage the officials’ visit on Sunday. Online far-right groups have hard that they were able to hit Sanchez in the back and “destroy his car.” Some of these statements are debunkedbut on Monday the Spanish interior minister confirmed that at least one object struck Sanchez on Sunday. Observers claim that what happened that day represents an escalation of the political polarization taking place in Spain where the rise of the far-right party Vox has shaken up the two-party system in recent years.
On Sunday, after Sánchez was hurried away by security, King Felipe VI and Queen Letizia stayed behind to speak to frustrated citizens. The footage of this scene will remain in the memories of the Spaniards and perhaps become an iconic moment about the monarchs struggling to shake off both the unpopular legacy of former King Juan Carlos I, Felipe’s father, and their own reputation as distant representatives of an undemocratic institution.
But despite what happened Sunday, and while it remains unclear how much of the escalation is the work of far-right groups, one thing seems clear: People in the storm-ravaged region are saddened and sometimes angry.
The true growing anger of the survivors
Javier Ruiz Martinez is a reporter for the Spanish radio network Cadena SER. He was on the ground covering the disaster. Last Sunday he sent me a series of audio messages while standing in the streets of Alfafar under an umbrella. It was raining again in Valencia.
Images were shared around the world showing cars piled on top of each other, a bridge swept away by an overflowing river and cities completely covered in mud. Citizen videos show similar scenes of raging rivers taking over streets in what looks more like a tsunami than what we normally think of as a flood.
I ask Javier what he saw that is not visible in these images. He talks about the belongings that people have lost. Sometimes these are seemingly small items: a collection of comic books kept from childhood, class notes from college that have been carefully guarded for decades. And pictures.
But what’s most impressive, Javier said, is the smell.
“The smells of rot that overwhelm everyone who comes here. The feeling that what is to come may be even worse than what has already happened.”
Javier says that watching all of this has an effect on him too. He tries to remain objective, but says he found himself embracing the survivors after interviewing them. “That sadness, that first feeling of sadness, now turns to anger.”
Javier says what happened on Sunday with the king and queen is not entirely surprising: “I really think there is a general feeling of anger among the survivors.”
Amaya Contel is a teacher based in Valencia. She repeats what Javier said. People are “sad, outraged and angry,” she said. Amaya is one of thousands of volunteers who have organized to help with recovery efforts. On Sunday, three questions led to 37 minutes of heart-wrenching testimony.
“By Thursday, there was already a sophisticated system developed by volunteers to know where to send help and even for survivors to report immediate needs,” she said. These volunteers walked miles to reach the devastated areas. Amaya said she was at the scene on Saturday and said that when she arrived in the town of Bennetusser, she saw no firefighters, no trucks, no soldiers: “You realize there’s still no official help there.”
Natural disaster becomes political
The government has deployed thousands of soldiers, police, civil guards and firefighters to the area. But managing the crisis requires cooperation between the regional government of Valencia, in the hands of the conservatives, and the central government, controlled by the progressives.
Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez repeatedly said that the regional government of Valencia only needs to ask for what it needs and the central government will fulfill it. Sanchez also called for political unity at a time of national crisis. The president of the regional government of Valencia, Carlos Masson, has protected his management of the crisis, pointing the finger back at the central government.
There even seems to be a lack of agreement within the Conservative Party, with their national leader, Alberto Nunes Feijoo, a call central government to intervene directly, and Masson did not want to relinquish command of the recovery effort.
The official agency that monitors weather events, AEMETbegan warning citizens as early as October 24 of the arrival of what is known as DANA, a discontinuous lower-pressure storm system migrating from an unusually wavy and stalled jet stream. DANAs are not uncommon in Spain, but this time it was forecast to bring heavy rain to the region.
AEMET also issued warnings, including a red level warning for the area, on October 29 early in the morning. But the direct alert going to citizens’ cellphones, sent by the regional government of Valencia, went out just after 8pm on the day of the storm. At the time, flooding was underway during rush hour, with many citizens on the road heading home. The destruction would have happened regardless, but the massive human toll could have been avoided.
Amaya Contel points the finger at the regional government of Masson. She said seeing what was happening miles away spurred her into action. She said she’s not a hero, just doing what’s right, and that the solidarity of volunteers like her is what comes to the rescue of survivors.
“The slogan that is used in social networks and solidarity networks is ‘El pueblo salva al pueblo’.”
“People will save people,” Amaya said.
On Monday morning, commentators on Spanish radio talked about the efforts of the far right in Spain to take advantage of this crisis. They mention that these groups now use the same slogan “El pueblo salva al pueblo”.
The flood recovery crisis has now become deeply political in Spain. Slogans are stolen and repurposed, people argue in cafes and bars whether Sánchez or Masson is responsible for the tragedy, while the survivors continue to suffer.
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