
Democracia
Camp Sol represents the possibility of a new Spain. For twenty-five days in May and June, this peaceful protest occupied Madrid’s main square, known as Puerta del Sol. The camp has been dismantled but the movement that created it, known as 15-M, has grown stronger and is crossing international borders, seeking social justice and true democracy.
Spain’s young people have managed to transfix society and confound an out-of-touch political elite. They do not speak the language of politicians and reject vertical models of organization. They are inclusive and democratic, reaching decisions through consensus. And what they seek is a profound transformation, one that transcends political parties and traditional methods of government. They envision a system that brings grassroots democracy rooted in the communities. Their weapons are their words and their social media networks.
Camp Sol, which began spontaneously on May 15 with a few pitched tents to protest against corruption and the lack of opportunities and to ask for democratic changes, quickly turned into a small city, a maze of plastic tarps held together with chicken wire and makeshift poles, complete with its own radio station, day-care center, dining areas, first-aid posts, legal-aid clinics, libraries (including one for children), and information centers, which conducted meetings and workshops on issues ranging from the environment to immigration rights. Walking through this “micropolis” one could encounter a live poetry reading, a political debate, a cello concert, a yoga class, a kids’ theater performance, or a film screening on a king-sized bed sheet. Sandwiches and drinks were handed out for free all day; in return, many people visited the camp with armloads of food, build- ing materials, and other donated supplies. Their experienced legal team and peaceful tactics managed to keep police at bay. Protesters kept the camp clean, recycled garbage, and maintained orderly corridors and a large perimeter for passersby. Tahrir Square was their model.
The camp was in the heart of Madrid’s commercial and tourist district, a cross between Times Square and Piccadilly Circus. Known as Kilometer Zero because of its central location, the area receives thousands of visitors and shoppers on a daily basis. Thus Camp Sol also became a massive shop window into Spain’s social movements, a chance for social justice groups and activists to converge and to get their message across to a wider audience.
One afternoon, a group of French sightseers toured the camp as part of their itinerary. “I knew about Spain’s art and food, but I am now discover- ing the enormous potential that its young people have,” remarked Patrick Joseph, a middle-aged writer from Toulouse.
So what drove Spain’s young people to create a parallel society in the heart of the capital? Or perhaps the question should be: What took them so long? After all, almost half of Spaniards under the age of twenty-four are unemployed, twice the European rate, and of those who have work, more than half are under-employed and earn close to minimum wage (614 Euros or almost $900 per month). The lack of affordable housing prevents young people from leaving their parents’ home, and many young couples cannot afford to have children, resulting in a steep drop in Spain’s birth rate. Spain’s Socialist government has not been able to address these needs: Panicked at the possibility of a Greece-style bailout, it has heeded the International Monetary Fund’s instructions to cut social spending, slashing pensions, public payrolls, and educational programs. At the same time as schoolteachers are being laid off, thegovernment has bailed out Spanish banks to the tune of $70 billion.
“Just two months ago, I had been asking young people why they had not taken to the streets like their peers in France or in Portugal,” said Elena García Quevedo, a journalist working on a documentary about Spain’s youth. “They told me it was a matter of time; they were sure that it would happen. As soon as the protests began, I called all my contacts and none of them picked up their cell phones. It turns out they were at the heart of the movement.”
On May 22, as tens of thousands crowded into Camp Sol, municipal and regional elections gave the conservative party, known as the PP (Partido Popular), an enormous victory over the Socialist Party. Many of those elected have been accused of political corruption and some, such as the reelected president of the Valencia autonomous region, Francisco Camps, are facing trial for involvement in a widespread corruption scandal known as Gürtel, which was uncovered by judge Baltasar Garzón. Refusing to endorse what they see as a corrupt system, most Camp Sol protesters decided to stay away from the polls. “They do not represent us” was one of the rallying cries in the plaza.
The seeds sown by Camp Sol are the assemblies and open mic sessions that have spread to hundreds of neighborhoods, towns, and villages across Spain. Although there is a prevalence of young people, the movement is increasingly attracting older folks, families with children, and middle-aged professionals and retirees—all deeply affected by the economic crisis and the government’s austerity measures. Young people in other cities such as Paris, Athens, Buenos Aires, Bogotá, and Brussels have joined the movement with protests of their own. Unemployment, social injustice, lack of true democracy, declining social services, rising costs of education, and corruption are just some of the topics they debate.
“I am here to say that if the police take my son away I will take his place, and so will many other mothers,” said Gloria Agulló, a sixty-three- year-old woman at an open mic session at Camp Sol. “He has graduated from university and obtained a master’s degree but has not been able to find work in two years. Where else should he be, but here in Sol reclaiming his future?”
“We want to change Spain’s electoral law, which favors a two-party system, so that we can move towards a representative democracy. We want a real separation between government and the judiciary, because in Spain judges are often tied to political parties and act accordingly. We want politicians accused of corruption to be banned from running for office. And we are asking for the creation of control mechanisms on government so that citizens have more access to information. This will allow greater transparency and political accountability.”
On a global scale, today’s young people were written off in early 2010 by former IMF director Dominique Strauss-Kahn, who referred to them as the “lost generation.” In Spain, the mainstream media refers to Spanish youth as the “Neither-Nor” or “Ni-Ni” generation: neither studying nor working. Massive youth gatherings, at least those covered by the media, have usually involved the consumption of large amounts of alcohol, a practice known as botellón (one of the largest signs hung by protesters in Sol said “Revolución no es botellón”— “Revolution is not boozing”—and the camp rejected the sale or distribution of alcohol on its premises). Spanish society, suffocated by a structural economic crisis that has left almost five million unemployed, has practically given up on its young people. Many university graduates have been leaving Spain for German jobs or for emerging employment markets in Brazil and Mexico.
These young people have renamed their generation: They are now “the Indignant.” They are tired of a system that condemns them to unemployment and underemployment. They feel that asking for change is not sufficient; they need to force it. “Spain’s democracy does not seem real to them,” says García. “They are more prepared than the generation that preceded theirs; they are better educated, speak more languages, are more well-rounded. They have so much to offer, but their country has nothing to offer them. Meanwhile, the political parties are mired in corruption and infighting, and unions have negotiated rights away. They are not models for them.”
“The movement is still working on a blueprint, but so far we have been able to agree on four main demands,” says Iván Martinoz, a young publicist who is one of the movement’s spokespeople. “We want to change Spain’s electoral law, which favors a two-party system, so that we can move towards a representative democracy. We want a real separation between government and the judiciary, because in Spain judges are often tied to political parties and act accordingly. We want politicians accused of corruption to be banned from running for office. And we are asking for the creation of control mechanisms on government so that citizens have more access to information. This will allow greater transparency and political accountability.”
On June 12, the protesters at Camp Sol folded up their tents and departed, leaving a permanent information center at the square and thousands of off-shoots in neighborhoods and villages. Their indignation still resounds. In late June, as newly elected politicians were sworn in (many of them facing corruption charges) and local governments began to contemplate further social cutbacks, thousands of protesters surrounded regional parliaments and city halls in protest. In Barcelona, the new regional president, Artur Más, had to be flown into the parliament by helicopter. In Madrid, hundreds of “Indignants” blocked off streets and prevented a bank from repossessing the home of an out-of-work immigrant family. As one of the activists predicted at the camp: “No matter what happens to Camp Sol, we now exist as a force to be reckoned with, and if Spanish society does not pay attention, we will be back.”