"I go with tight reins and curbing my flight
because it doesn't matter to arrive alone or soon,
but to arrive with everyone and on time"
León Felipe
Not all bugs live in the summer. Ask the 30% of Catalan society that cannot afford even a single week of vacation away from home. Ask the islanders of Palma, after a historic social mobilization against the collapses of an overflowing touristification. Ask them, in the midst of a climate emergency, all those affected – by flood, hailstorm, or fire – by contingent and incontinent meteorology. Ask the Albanians who have risen up against the pornographic projects of luxury resorts, linked to the Trump family, in the middle of the ecological nature reserve on the Adriatic coast. Let us ask ourselves, in another summer of global aporia, bordering Ceuta, where these days the great contradiction of the inhumanity of the moment is condensed: the split between having the condition of a tourist or being just a poor migrant. All tensions rise. Reality will come and catch us asleep, even though there are always other options available against the tyranny of inertia and indifference. For example, let strict reality catch us, yes. But anticipated, mobilized, on our feet and in the middle of the street. I say it freely: we can still stop the expansion of Prat airport.
Eternal return of autumn —with the climate change excuse, that's for sure— and we will meet again, a dead end, in the same place once more. Open crossroads, Sunday, September 20, dozens of social and environmental organizations have called for a new demonstration in Barcelona to demand that the expansion of Barcelona airport be definitively stopped; not now, nor ever. This is supported by a plural, diverse, and truly committed choir for the future of the country, sheltered under the Zeroport platform. From environmental organizations like Depana, which denounce the degradation of the Llobregat delta in the last five years, to the Assembly of Neighborhoods for Tourist Degrowth (ABDT), which warns of all that 15 million more tourists — more! — per year would imply. Moving on to Water is Life — which calls for more hydraulic planning —, the Catalan Confederation of Housing Unions (Coshac), which refers to the brutal impact on housing and the expulsion of residents, to the Association for the Promotion of Public Transport (PTP), which prioritizes the simple fact that Rodalies works and that the huge sum allocated to the expansion — 3.2 billion for now — is dedicated to a robust, safe, and reliable railway system. All of them are demanding, literally at the same time, very concrete actions: that biodiversity, agriculture, the productive fabric and local industries, the right to the city, and the Llobregat delta be protected — and so many other things that are hidden under the airport expansion project—. The mobilization is not new: it already happened in 2021, and at that time we managed to stop it. We must return now with more perseverance. Now that we know that the Illa Government set it as a strategic priority from day one, turning a deaf ear to so many other voices. In the beginning, certainly, they did it with great fanfare. Lately, they do it discreetly, in the shadows and in silence, as they have enough with what is to come — education, healthcare, housing, Rodalies—. President Illa says that "it is compatible to expand and modernize the airport and do so with the highest environmental standards." The same was said about the 2006 expansion. And the harsh response came from the EU with devastating reports: it was all scandalous and shameful non-compliance that we are still paying for. In other backrooms of power, some already admit that this Prat project will not succeed, just as they admit in private that Rodalies will take years to be resolved after decades of disinvestment.But shouting or in silence, the acid test always comes and always stains. The dilemma is wide open. Almost simple. Terribly clear: you can't ring the bells and go to the procession. Either arsonists or firefighters. Either you stand by the commitments of the Paris Agreement —as they say— or by the airport expansion —as they do—. Either you take sides with the goal of carbon neutrality by 2050 or, in the name of the goal, you do the exact opposite. Either you defend the timid European Green Deal or you attack it. Either you invoke the European climate law or you bypass it to actively promote, as the organizing entities say, "the increase of atmospheric and acoustic pollution and greenhouse gas emissions." Either you preserve and restore the Delta, La Ricarda, and El Remolar, or you sacrifice territory with the bad piece, on the false loom, of a compensation to come. Either you get involved in reversing the climate emergency or you insist on accelerating and deepening it. This is what is at stake. And meanwhile, the only thing exigible, initially, is that if they intend to move forward, they spare us the mockery of invoking the consensuses, pacts, laws, and agreements that they say they respect while violating them. If it's not too much to ask, as the poet would say.
All of this recalls a way of doing politics, between arrogance and double-speak, where the growing democratic discredit, which an extreme right dedicated to climate denial so miserably exploits, lurks. The style of action is no exception. The same happens with the variant of the Preses in La Garrotxa. In 2023, the ACA declared the fluvio-volcanic aquifer of La Vall d'en Bas, the main water reserve of the region, a natural underground reserve. Two years later, the Government approves drilling it to cut through La Vall d'en Bas with asphalt, in one of the most fertile agricultural areas in the country and against the resistance of the territory. Again, one thing or the other; what do we settle on? What happens in the sky lands on the ground, and what we do with the ground affects the air. That is why, every time Zeroport reminds us, so necessarily, of the impacts, costs, and fractures of expanding the airport or the port —"an irrational decision"— a personal experience that can only be collective comes to mind. Everything has been so upside down for so long that during the recent Swiss exile of so many comrades, the unbearable paradox of mobility was reiterated, monotonous, and absurd. Every time I had to travel to Geneva, the screen, invariably, said the same thing in a topsy-turvy world: going and returning by plane could cost 60 euros or less; going by car, around 150; by bus, 200. On the other hand, choosing to go by train, as a less polluting public transport option, never cost less than 300 euros and, depending on the dates, rose to 400. When it should be the complete opposite, on an inverse scale.So, then, where are the limits? Do they have any? What a devilish idea of the future are they projecting? How far do they want to grow, and what does grow mean, exactly, and how far and until when and for what? The question is not new. It was posed a long time ago by the Meadows couple. In 1972, when they published "The Limits to Growth". 54 years later, AENA's propaganda – whose main, if not sole, driving force is the remuneration of private shareholders for the promised high profitability – does not cease, and they repeat a rhetorical little question that is so basic it is tragicomic: "Can you imagine a day without airports?" Well, yes. And 365 days, too. What I can't imagine is a day without trains. That's why, against those who want to make planes, money, and doves fly at the same time, on Sunday, September 20, we have a meeting close to the ground. On the street. Without fumes. In defense of people, the city, and the territory. Against global fires, where many extinguishers will be needed. To try to get out of the infinite roundabout where we have been turning badly for years. To know how to choose, collectively, another way out. Another path, supported, solidarity-based, and sustainable, in the face of the enormous global challenges of the 21st century. Let's launch the demonstration: it's time to land.
