Land of the real-life Robin Hood: proof that direct democracy works for all

This was first published in Salon and an edited version with hyperlinks can be read on their website here.

A wall mural declares ´Sovereignty and socialism´

With virtually no police, crime, or unemployment, the Spanish town of Marinaleda has gained celebrity status in Europe. Can we learn something from this democratic ´utopia´, and the maverick mayor who advocates shoplifting?

On the face of it, the Spanish town of Marinaleda is indistinguishable from any other.  Nestled in the picturesque Campiña valley, the surrounding countryside is made up of rolling green hills, miles of olive plantations and golden meadows of wheat stretching as far as the eye can see. The town is pretty, tranquil, and typical of those found in Andalusia, Spain´s poorest and most southerly province.

Flowers tumble from white-washed buildings as old men while away the summer´s afternoon on shaded benches, silently watching the world go by. Families take their evening paseo in the rose-filled municipal park, while shouts and thuds can be heard as boys play soccer in the schoolyard.

But on Avenida de Libertad (Liberty Avenue), Marinaleda´s main street, dozens of colourful wall murals quite literally paint a new picture.
´War on Capitalism´, one reads. ´Peace and social justice´.
´Turn off the TV, turn on your mind´, says another.

Anti-fascist slogans depict stickmen throwing swastikas in the trash, while paintings of doves- an image also used in the town´s flag and logo are pitched against military tanks with the message:´Don´t stop searching for peace´.

This street art, along with a metal sign outside the town´s commonly-owned bar declaring ´Another world is possible´, are small clues to Marinaleda´s identity as a self-styled ´Utopia for peace´.

Since the financial crisis began in 2008, Marinaleda has shot to fame- and so has its maverick mayor Juan Manuel Sánchez Gordillo, who earned the nickname ´The Spanish Robin Hood´ after organizing and carrying out a series of supermarket raids in a direct action protest last August. Basic groceries such as oil, rice and beans were loaded into carts, wheeled from the store and taken to a local food bank to help the poor as helpless cashiers looked on, some crying.

Catch-22: How Spain´s tax laws are unfit for purpose

Spanish tax laws are changing- and it´s about time. If Rajoy is serious about easing unemployment, he needs to stimulate growth through a complete system overhaul 

Every day, my neighbour Alfredo sits under the fig tree outside the village bar, cutting off the plastic from used electricity cables with care and attention. They pay 1.50eu per kilo for the copper wire inside, he tells me earnestly.

I moved to a sleepy hamlet in rural Andalusia, Spain, two years ago. Back then, the recession was not yet a social catastrophe and most still had jobs. Now, crippling austerity measures and tax increases have deepened the crisis to such an extent that only a handful of this tiny village´s 274 residents are working. Official figures show 42% of the active population here (and 65% of young people) are registered unemployed, compared to national figures of 27% and 57% respectively.  But real figures could be much higher, since many families are no longer (or never were) entitled to social security.

Alfredo is one of thousands of others who can´t claim government help because was always paid cash-in-hand. He has a three year-old son and a partner who lost her job as a care assistant during Rajoy´s brutal public sector cuts, and theirs is one of two million Spanish households without a breadwinner. The middle class is shopping in Lidl while those who fell off the bottom rung of the social ladder a long time ago are scavenging in the dustbins outside. His story is typical: a recent report showed  Spain´s black economy is worth 20% of its GDP.  But why is tax-free work so widespread, even among expats who would never do ´this sort of thing´at home?

“La Matanza”, Spain: is killing our own food the only way to eat ethically?

A pig is killed and skinned at a traditional Matanza in Southern Spain

Just 40 kilometres inland from the hotels and souvenir shops of the Costa del Sol lies the Genal Valley, where tiny white villages forgotten by the march of time cling to pine-fringed mountains. These picturesque pueblos blancos, their crumbling houses brightened by red geraniums, are a quaint reminder of a rustic bygone age.

Here, self-sufficiency is not an alternative buzzword but rather the default way of life. Men in battered flat caps use mules to plough the earth, firewood is collected from the surrounding forest to heat homes in winter, and the majority of people in these villages- some with populations of under 200- have smallholdings, growing organic produce and rearing animals for meat all year round.

Sheep, goats, chickens and pigs are kept by most families, and the latter are killed at the end of the long winter in an event known as La Matanza – literally ´the slaughter´. Relatives and friends lend a hand, preparing meat products to be stored for the coming year. Perishable meat is eaten immediately and washed down with copious amounts of alcohol. Like everything else in Andalusia, La Matanza is as good a reason as any for a fiesta.

Curioser and Curioser….Take a trip down festival-land’s peculiar rabbit hole at The Beat-Herder, Lancashire

If you were to take a group of creative artists and music-lovers, feed them acid and ask them to brainstorm their ideas for the best festival on earth, then you might get somewhere close to imagining the wacky carnival of ‘Beats and Barminess’ that is The Beat-Herder festival.

Born five years ago out of Bradford’s underground party scene, The Beat-Herder is  funded by an independent group of friends and held in the beautiful rolling hills of the Ribble Valley, Lancashire. With no corporate ties or commercial interests, The Beat-herder sticks two fingers up to the big boys: this wacky jamboree hasn’t forgotten its roots.

What’s wrong with British teenagers?

In light of a report earlier this year depicting British youth as a depressive, out-of-control, failing generation, Sophie McAdam spoke to teenagers and professionals to find out where it all went wrong- and what the Government should do about it.

In February, UNICEF published a report of child well-being in the world’s 21 richest countries. The UK’s astonishingly poor performance left us flailing around miserably at the foot of the table on three of the six categories assessed, and in the bottom third for another two. Its official: British children are more likely to be unhappy, failing at school, and have poor relationships with their families and peers. They are at higher risk of experiencing violence and bullying, drug and alcohol misuse, and underage sex than their contemporaries in other rich countries.