Solidarity Has Saved Spanish Villages After Flooding
Flash floods in eastern Spain last month killed over 200 people. A massive solidarity effort by ordinary Spaniards helped to clean up devastated villages — and shamed the weak response by local authorities.
Residents clear flood debris after extreme flooding in Paiporta, Spain, on November 3, 2024. (Angel Garcia / Bloomberg via Getty Images)
“We had no electricity or water. They came, helped remove the mud, emptied their backpacks full of food, flashlights — everything they had — then left and came back the next day. Every single day since the very first day. We have to thank the volunteers.” These are the emotional words of Palmira, the owner of a bakery in Paiporta, one of the towns on the outskirts of Valencia, eastern Spain, devastated by the flash floods on October 29. Thousands of volunteers arrived within hours of the disaster to provide essential supplies and help with rescue and cleanup efforts. This massive display of solidarity, often by people from outside the local area, stands in stark contrast to the institutions today widely distrusted by the public — and the far right’s attempts to exploit the disaster for political gain.
Samuel, Paco, Alfonso, and Aitor traveled ten hours by car from León, in the northwest of the country, to help in any way they could. “Yesterday, we were shoveling out a garage with a group,” Samuel explains. The following day, they roamed the center of Paiporta, asking who needed help. A local resident, whose name they didn’t even know, asked them to help distribute food and basic supplies to elderly people unable to walk through the mud-covered streets. This is how the ecosystem of mutual aid in the town has operated since water and mud destroyed its streets: everyone asks how they can help, and everyone contributes in any way they can.
“This is harder than cleaning,” says Samuel. “A woman grabbed my arm and said, ‘I love you.’ This is psychological aid.” Two weeks after the flood, the initial wave of thousands of volunteers has faded and a sense of loneliness threatens a town still far from recovery. Although the streets are now passable, everything remains covered in mud, and ground-floor homes and businesses are destroyed. “People are in bad shape,” says Dani, a volunteer psychologist managing the line at a food distribution center. “Many are still in shock. Once everything returns to normal, mental illnesses will emerge: post-traumatic stress, depression, anxiety,” he warns, emphasizing the importance of continued outside support for affected communities.
Only the People Save the People?
Gratitude turns to anger when Paiporta residents are asked about the government’s response. This was evident on November 4, when King Felipe VI visited the town with Queen Letizia, accompanied by Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez and Valencia’s regional president, Carlos Mazón. They were met with boos and a shower of mud, and Sánchez had to leave after being attacked. Politicians had arrived to visit while the situation remained a humanitarian emergency and official aid was still scarce.
“Emergency management falls under the jurisdiction of the Valencian government and, therefore, Mr Mazón,” clarifies Alberto Ibáñez, a legislator from the left-wing Compromís party. While the regional government, led by the conservative Partido Popular, was aware of an incoming storm with potentially catastrophic impacts, it delayed alerting the public until hours after towns were already flooded, leaving many dead. Furthermore, the Valencian government refused multiple offers of aid from other regions and the national government, which also chose not to take control of the emergency response. “People feel that the state didn’t respond to the storm, and we had to organize ourselves. What’s the point of politicians? That sentiment exists,” Ibáñez admits.
Political analyst Quico Miralles notes that the regional government has mainly been held to blame: “Everyone understands that Pedro Sánchez could have done more, but it’s clear that Mazón is responsible for the deaths; he’s the one who failed to issue warnings.” Prime Minister Sánchez stated that more than 18,000 personnel from the military, police, and emergency services had been deployed in the affected area two weeks after the floods. “They started four or five days later than they should have,” complains Jesús, a Paiporta resident. “Without the volunteers, we’d be much worse off.”
In the early days, social media was flooded with photos of young people equipped with shovels, raincoats, and boots, clearing mud from streets, homes, and businesses. The slogan “Only the people save the people” gained traction, and donations of food and essential items poured in by the ton from across Spain.
Gonçal Bravo, a member of the trade union Workers’ Union Coordination (COS) is one of the coordinators of the Mutual Aid Network created by social movements to collect and distribute assistance. “Thanks to the network of contacts formed during the preparation for a housing rights demonstration, we created the network. It has grown to an incredible scale. Last week, we worked double shifts nonstop, organizing brigades and distributing materials,” he says proudly.
The Far Right’s Opportunism
However, not all the volunteers in Valencia were social movement activists or citizens who spontaneously pitched in. The far right saw the disaster as an opportunity to strengthen its position. Initially, it spread conspiracy theories, such as claims that the storm was a “meteorological attack” by the Moroccan government and circulated false information that deflected responsibility from the Valencian government, in which Vox participated until July 2024. Far-right activists then organized their own aid distribution — sometimes exclusively for Spaniards — heavily publicized on social media.
“I’ve never seen so many Nazis together as I did today in Catarroja, in the hardest-hit area, where only volunteers go and where residents feel most abandoned by institutions and governments,” tweeted Laura Peris, an activist and volunteer in one of the flooded towns, on November 5. In Paiporta, by contrast, residents highlight the selfless and nonpartisan nature of the assistance they received. “Here, there were no colors or parties—[just] volunteers coming to help,” says the owner of a hardware store destroyed by the flood, as she tries to salvage some goods to sell. “Their presence is negligible,” agrees trade unionist Bravo.
Political scientist Miralles doubts the far right will gain much from the disaster: “If the PP [Partido Popular] suffers, Vox and Alvise [Pérez, a conspiracy theorist influencer recently elected as an MEP] might benefit somewhat, but the far right struggles with social outreach.” It’s still too early to tell if this environmental catastrophe — the worst in Spain’s history — will be remembered as an inspiring example of mutual aid or as a stepping stone for a rising far right.