Tag Archives: 15M

Taking the Relationship to the Next Level: 15M Moves In

Is a protest movement like a relationship? In the June edition of Periódico Madrid15M, Stéphane M. Grueso, a filmmaker, writes about the stages he has gone through since “falling in love” with the 15M movement. While the first year of protests on the street was intoxicating, it was also exhausting. Now that the initial burst of excitement is over (and he must sustain his family and work life) he admits that he’ll spend less time on the street and at the assemblies etc. But does this mean he’s less in love? “Of course not!” “Ahora se trata de pasar del enamoramiento a la fase del a vida en común,” he writes. “Now it is time to move from the falling-in-love stage to the living together stage.”

This is an important aspect to the 15M movement today because on the outside, it may seem that the protest is slackening or that the masses have been browbeaten by continued austerity, as has been reported about the Eurozone in general. But just because people aren’t on the streets as often doesn’t mean that change isn’t on the rise. (This article on CrisisRepublic.com is particularly relevant to that discussion in Spain). As I checked into some of the legal and political efforts going on in the background, I saw first hand that the flame still exists. There are still many people  working to change the way democracy operates in the country and believe feverishly in that change.

“It’s getting stronger, but it’s not so visual, like the occupation of Puerta del Sol in the beginning,” said Bob, a British expat in his 70s who is very involved in 15M. “Now it’s the hard work, behind the scenes. And we’ve had some success.”

José, a fourth-year law student who started with 15M protests in Málaga two years ago, drew me a diagram to explain how the 15M movement had evolved over two years. He said that the initial cohesive force of the group had exploded with a “bang!” and splintered into the barrio (neighborhood) groups that function like support groups for those affected by the housing crisis. Within these groups, there are specializations, such as groups set up specifically to deal with immigration or housing etc. Then there are overarching bigger groups, pushing to analyze and work on the legal, judicial, and economic fronts.

I met Bob and a group of five others on a Thursday as they were setting up for a long evening of picking through bank and housing documents at La Morada, an occupied social center. Their group, one of the overarching ones, is called Citizen’s Court of Justice and they’ve been working for the past year and half to compile documents from citizens that indicate that banks were engaged in fraudulent mortgages and embezzlement through predatory loans and over-valuation. José Luis, another participant, showed me documents of people who were given double mortgages to jack up the price, along with fees “al portador,” meaning blank checks that were used to line the pockets of bankers with hefty commissions.

The Citizen’s Court is an example of the sustained and dedicated effort that ordinary people in Spain have taken upon themselves since they perceive the government as unwilling or incompetent to do it. Every week they doggedly stop by different neighborhoods to invite people to come submit documents, then spend hours sorting through them and entering them into a newly developed software program. They have created task force upon task force to address different objectives. With luck, they hope to take their case to court at the end of the year. Their ultimate goal is to conduct a citizen’s trial and then present the case to the courts to put bank lenders in jail and restitute money to those cheated.

I also sat in on a Housing Office meeting. This group demonstrates the more local-based approach to battling the housing crisis. They convene free-form weekly meetings in each neighborhood, (this one was also at La Morada) where anyone can come and express problems or offer advice. I kept trying to find out the ‘titles’ of the people who were offering advice, but they always looked at me a little bit bemused. No one has a specific expertise or label that designates them as an advice-giver, anyone can show up and offer information.

The day I sat in, four women stopped by to ask questions of a group of six. The kinds of questions that were asked gave me a better sense of what many Spaniards are dealing with. One woman had been involved in a stop-eviction protest, but the group had arrived at the wrong moment and the police had taken one of the occupants to jail. What were her options now, she wanted to know. Another woman was occupying an apartment. She planned to tap the electricity of her neighbor, a friend, but wanted to make sure that the neighbor wouldn’t get in trouble as an accomplice. The advice-givers helped them work through options and consequences and everyone seemed reassured, ready to face the next day of housing limbo.

These kinds of groups and projects, like the eviction-protests, funnel 15M’s energy and are giving participants the opportunity to put into practice their ideals about justice and self-government in a meaningful way.

It also might be helping create a new kind of social cohesion. Expat Bob told me that he’d never felt very integrated into Spanish culture even though he’d been married  to a Spanish woman and lived in Spain for over 30 years. In the past year and a half, that has changed dramatically. Now he pops up at all the events around town, smiling his toothy grin, patting everyone on the back, ranting in Spanish about the latest issues. Though he was an unlikely person to ever become involved in a political experiment, the tragedies of the housing crisis generated sympathy  in Bob and acted as a catalyst for him to become a part of Spanish society and to feel like he was making a difference in it.

Once the housing crisis dies down, and if the 15M movement achieves it’s initial goals, what will be left? Perhaps the effects of these group experiences and sustained efforts will be rooted in a bigger segment of the population and take on a life of it’s own on a larger scale.

Here’s an image from the Citizen’s Court of Justice that explains Spanish bank fraud in simple terms: TRIBUNAL

Okupa en España – pt 2 Eviction Protests

You wouldn’t expect it, walking on the ritzy looking stretch of Calle Noviciado in Madrid. It has clean spiffy architecture and period details like wrought iron balustrades and classic-arch stone doorways. Well-coiffed women pass by looking purposeful yet unhurried.

But in the building next to the dignified university library and across from a gleaming Bankia branch (the biggest mortgage lender in Spain), a rotting vacant apartment is shielded from view. This apartment has been left vacant for 40 years, to molder and decay, but recently a new inhabitant took up residence within its grimy walls. Carlos, A young activist with gauge earrings, dreadlocks and tattoos on his chest, has made it his home for the past 3 years, quietly setting up electricity wires and a makeshift kitchen with a portable gas burner. But now someone has ratted him out to the owner and he’s threatened with eviction.

My second day in Madrid I attended the “desahucio,” (or eviction) protest, for Carlos. When I arrived around 9 AM a crowd of almost 100 thronged the front door, ready to see what the day would bring. People with ratty dreadlocks and piercings lounged around in clouds of smoke, an old routine for most by now. Some sang and danced, others chatted excitedly with friends, looking around just in time to press themselves aside for the bent old ladies with canes trying to get through.

Before my trip I had read that ever since the housing bubble crashed and the 15M movement began, Spaniards have been turning out in huge numbers to impede the police from entering and evicting families who defaulted on their mortgages. The more I’ve met people involved, the more it seems like the stop-evictions movement is a key ingredient in the power and scope of the 15M’s evolution and current state today. Instead of splintering or withering away, as many spontaneous protests movements are liable to do, there is still a core group of activists working to advance change in Spain and seeing the fruits of their efforts every day.

The groups set up after 15M to help families affected by the housing bubble, like Platform for Those Affected by Mortgages (PAH), the Housing Office, and Citizen’s Tribunal for Justice, have grown from disorganized rag-tag bands of energy into cohesive and effective groups that operate through assemblies and mobilize to affect citizens’ lives. Besides protesting evictions, they hold meetings to dispense advice to those facing eviction or looking to occupy, and they work on developing legal solutions to the problems they perceive (more on that later).

As an American, it’s a bit hard to wrap your head around the whole occupying-homes-being-OK argument at first. I’m sure people squat in places around the U.S, but it’s hard to imagine hundreds of people turning up to try to protect their right to do it. But the situation in Spain is so out of whack and widespread that it’s almost surreal – so it’s easier to see how people have transformed occupation into a grassroots political response to a situation caused by corrupt institutions. The argument “no people without home and no homes without people” becomes plausible when you learn that over 250,000 families have been evicted since the start of the crisis in 2008 and 20% of housing stock was deemed vacant in 2011.

I was  surprised how many Madrileños came out to support for hours that day – apparently it was considered a lower turn out because another eviction was happening at the same time so the group had to split up . How widespread was this kind of activity and what kept them involved? I asked Paola and Julie, two students hanging around outside, how they’d heard about the eviction that morning. They weren’t affiliated with a specific group, but they said they’d been attending these protests for about two years. They keep up on twitter with the stop-eviction organizers or talk with friends and when they hear about an eviction protest that fits their schedule they come to support.

Paola and Julie fit the mold of most of the protesters that day – young and dressed in punky clothes , with time on their hands because they study or are unemployed, but I also spoke with people who were taking the morning off from work to be there, people who had gone through their own eviction troubles, foreigners, and retired people. But while all types participate in these eviction protests, it can also begin to feel like a roving house party where everyone knows everyone. Most people I spoke with that day said they felt like they “knew” the majority of the people  in the crowd. Even if they had never really spoken with them, they recognized them from other events related to housing issues.

So at this point, maybe 15M  is a relatively small committed circle of people, not a truly mass movement. I could also see from all the people that walked by with passive faces that, however much the protest movements in Spain are making waves, there are still plenty of people content to go about their daily business without being involved. Bob, a retired engineer from the UK who has lived in Spain for over 30 years, attends many events, always wearing his Stop Desahucios T-shirt. He believes that about 65% of Spaniards know about 15M and are supportive. But he explained, “It’s one thing to agree with common sense and the principle, and another to support it. Many do in Madrid and come to stop evictions,…but some people don’t want to because it can get rough. “ Bob, who has attended at least 30 evictions, said that the majority had been successful, though a few more contentious ones had turned a bit violent, with the police dragging people by their hair or arresting them. Now they’ve had so much success that they are often able to avoid the street protest part and go straight to negotiating with the bank on behalf of the homeowners. (In Carlos’ case this wasn’t possible because he was occupying.)

It was exciting to speak with so many people who are still inspired and active in the movement two years after the massive 15M street protests. I think that the eviction-protests and the success they’ve had with them has probably been a big factor in retaining the momentum generated from the original protests. All these people with ideals and energy have a specific target to unite against and the opportunity to experience building a different kind of democratic organization. The strength of the movement has to be based on the active participation of the people, and in Spain they have the perfect equation: the big bad villan (banks and politicians who stole money)  to rail against, the vulnerable good guys (average joe families that are going to get kicked to the street because they were duped) to protect, and concerned citizens (highly educated young people with plenty of time) to participate. Every time they stop an eviction and see a family protected, more people learn what the power of the masses feels like.


Okupa en España – part 1, Occupied Centers

For many of us in America, the word “occupy” immediately brings to mind the Occupy Wall Street movement that shook New York two summers ago. And while the downtown protests were provocative and energizing for many, the movement’s activities quickly faded from the public consciousness, a testament to the difficulties of harnessing and directing the energy of a protest movement comprised of so many disparate agendas.

But in my five days in Madrid, I found that the concept of occupation is very much alive in different forms here, and thriving as part of political response to the ravages of the crisis. It can be a way of life, an opportunity, a philosophy, and for some people, an answer.

There’s been a history of squatter groups from long before the 15M movement took to the streets two years ago, but the word “occupy” has taken on an even stronger meaning in the face of the housing bubble crash, with thousands of families evicted because of predatory mortgage loans and widespread dissatisfaction with the government’s response. In my next few posts I’ll explore the concept of “occupation” in Spain and profile some of the groups and movements I came into contact with.

My first stops in Madrid were to two Centros Sociales Ocupados (occupied social centers), La Morada and Patio Maravillas. I spent the most time at Patio Maravillas and it seems to be the most established squat in Madrid –a “Metropolitan center for all of Madrid,” instead of a neighborhood center for the barrio, as Lucia, a long-term supporter of Patio, described it to me.

Lucia works for an NGO in Madrid and has been involved with squatter movements since she was in high school. According to her, Patio Maravillas represented a break with the established squatter culture when it first started six years ago. In the past, squatter groups were usually much more exclusive and focused on their way of life or a specific left-wing political agenda. Patio was meant to be an inclusive community space where all kinds of groups could gather to “construct democracy” (hopefully subverting the left-right dialogue with an up-down framework), and plan independently whatever kinds of activities they wanted, as long a they adhered to a few basic rules – no racism or homophobia, respect diversity, etc.

When I visited on a Friday night, the Patio was a buzzing hive of activity. On the ground floor, people were trickling in with their friends to enjoy an early evening at the bar. Across the hall, musicians took turns practicing classic rock covers or folk-indie  solos. Upstairs, a warren of rooms in various states of rickety disarray and punk-bohemian decoration housed groups planning workshops or discussing political activities. There’s a “free shop,” where people leave things they don’t want anymore, and a TESLA shop that sells locally made beauty products, clothes, books, and zines, to raise money for the Centro.

Signs advertised for free yoga classes and DIY bike-fixing workshops. In the kitchen, a group of women from an orchard-occupation collective excitedly prepared vegetarian dishes like guacamole, Spanish tortilla, and hummus to sell later that night to raise money for their group. Johnattan, one of the three paid elected managers of the Centro, told me that many people who are out of work also use the space to work on small-scale self-employment projects to make a bit of money, like T shirt designing or baking.

Though the Patio has an overt punk vibe – it’s covered in graffiti, sells anarchist books in the shop, and is crowded with the requisite weird and wonderful haircuts and body art – one of the things that struck me was that it really seems to gather all kinds of people into the same space.  Johnattan said that people in the neighborhood will often have their birthday parties there, and on the night I visited, people of all ages and styles were hanging out.The women selling food looked so tame they could have been housewives at a school bake-sale, but they told stories of  occupying orchards and combatting multinationals. I sat down for a drink with a group that must have been reaching their mid 50s. Some of them were dressed like punks that never grew up, others perfectly mainstream. They were members of the two choirs that practices at Patio. Clean-cut Dario, a meteorologist for the airport, said that they were regulars and had recently performed pieces by Mendelssohn and other German composers. –  not exactly the revolutionary punks you normally think of hanging out at a squat!

I was amazed at the four entire crumbling floors were throbbing with life and excitement. How does all this activity and energy flower in an illegally occupied space? The Patio seemed to be completely self-sufficient despite being located on a busy city street, with hijacked electricity, makeshift bathrooms, and free WiFi to sustain it. But I wondered if the group was afraid of being shut down at any moment. What was stopping the government from kicking them out?  No one who I spoke with was entirely sure who owned the building, but most believed it was either a ruined businessman, hiding from corruption charges, or the bank, and believed that both were probably too embroiled with their own problems to waste time wrangling the courts and police to cooperate with an eviction.

Johnattan acknowledged that losing the Patio was always a possibility – their current building was already their second space because they had been kicked out of a first location four years ago. But, he explained, any action against them would likely be a lengthy and drawn-out process, unlikely to happen any time soon. In this case, it seems that Spain’s slow-moving bureaucracy is a boon to occupiers. Anyway, he said, if they do get evicted, it just means they are on to the next location…