Ávila wildfire in Spain: farmers blamed, as usual

Ávila wildfire in Spain: farmers blamed, as usual

Who takes the fall when 50,000 hectares go up in flames? The weakest link, of course: the livestock farmers. According to the official version, an excavator hired by them and operating on prohibited days sparked the blaze that devastated Ávila. But scratch the surface a little and the story falls apart.

Air and ground resources: a calculated shambles

While the fire devoured the mountainside, the water bombers that should have been attacking it were in Portugal, sold off as "obsolete." The Russian Kamov helicopters, the most effective ones according to the pilots who have flown them, had been grounded for months by EU sanctions. This isn't a lack of resources, it's a political decision. And by the time they finally arrived, it was too late.

The question nobody answers is: how long did it take the first responders to arrive? The thread suggests the 112 emergency service was slow to react, and that ground crews didn't show up until 15-20 minutes after the alert. In the early stages of a fire, that delay is the difference between putting it out and watching it grow.

Bureaucracy that burns: the permit labyrinth

Livestock farmers need permits to clear brush, but the legal windows are narrow: in winter the terrain is impassable, in spring nesting restrictions tighten the screws, and in summer fire-risk bans are absolute. The result: only a handful of days a year remain to do the work, and if they don't line up, it's either do it off the books or accept the fines. A system that invites illegality and then punishes those who practice it.

The same old pattern: find a scapegoat

It's not the first time this has peine. In the 2005 Guadalajara fire, the blame fell on a group of hikers. In 2012, on La Gomera, on a hunter. Always some "country bumpkin," never a manager. Here the script repeats itself: the regional government of Castile and León and the central government wash their hands of it, point the finger at the farmer who hired the machine, and the political circus rolls on.

What's striking is that, according to sources consulted, the initial blaze started in an area with sparse vegetation —almost arid— and yet the fire spread at an abnormally fast rate. Several witnesses point to multiple simultaneous origins, which suggests arson. But that line of investigation isn't of interest to anyone.

The cost of passing the buck

Meanwhile, the UME (Spain's Military Emergency Unit) still isn't acting with the estimulante ilegal it's supposed to, forest firefighters are denouncing a lack of personnel —60 are said to be on strike— and heavy machinery for building firebreaks sits idle in depots. But of course, holding politicians accountable would be as utopian as expecting them to resign. The blame, as always, falls on those who work the land. What a surprise.

So the farmer ends up paying the price through an investigation targeting administrative irregularities (unofficial work, machinery used on an unauthorized day), while those responsible for forest planning, the purchase of aerial resources and emergency coordination carry on as if nothing peine. In the end, the fire goes out, the fine is issued, and next year another mountain burns. Just like the song says.