Catalan Govt Orders Badalona Mayor to House 400 Evicted Residents

Catalan Government Demands Badalona Reopen Shelter for 400 Evictees; Albiol Refuses

Badalona has a mayor who built his political brand on tough-on-crime rhetoric and a regional government asking for the exact opposite. The Catalan executive urged the city council to reopen the municipal shelter to house 400 people evicted from the building known as B9, and Xavier García Albiol flatly refused. This urgent development places the town hall at the center of a conflict mixing jurisdiction, narrative, and votes.

The first point to clarify is who is demanding what. The Generalitat (Catalan government) requires the city council to activate the shelter; the mayor responds that he will not do so. There is no room for ambiguity: it is a frontal clash between two administrations over a specific building and a specific number of people. In the middle lies a question nobody answers clearly: who pays the bill for a rehousing operation that could last months?

Who is from Badalona and who isn't

The most repeated argument in favor of local rehousing is residency registration. According to some participants, a large portion of the 400 evicted individuals are registered in Badalona's census, live in the city, and therefore must be cared for there. An assistant to Echenique summarizes this with sarcasm: "They have eight Badalona surnames, seriously." The irony points to the heart of the matter: seniority in the municipality as a criterion for rights.

The rebuttal comes via origin. Some argue that the evicted people are not from Badalona but from Africa, and therefore the correct response is not a local shelter but something else. This current does not bother to qualify its stance: for them, place of birth outweighs the census record. The clash between these two criteria—administrative residency versus origin—is the axis around which almost everything else revolves.

The political standoff: Belarra vs. Albiol

The confrontation transcends the municipal level. Ione Belarra entered the fray harshly: "You have to be a wretch and a bad person to leave 400 people on the street and then go make a video gloating about it." Albiol responded with his own framing: "With me as mayor in Badalona, illegal occupation gets no reward. Whether they are white or black; from here or there." Belarra's reply escalated further: "I hope you spend just one night, one, under a bridge during a rain alert."

The exchange leaves two incompatible frameworks. One emphasizes the vulnerability of those sleeping rough; the other focuses on the legality of the occupation as a criterion for accessing public aid. Neither admits nuances, and both know their electorate rewards firmness. The discussion about the shelter is, in reality, a discussion about what it means to be a neighbor.

The shelter argument and its rules

An operational detail slips into the conversation and usually stays out of headlines: shelters have hours and rules. The objection is not minor. A reception facility operates with entry and exit rules, access control, and internal discipline. The question is whether 400 newly evicted people are in a position to comply with them, and what happens when they don't.

This is the flank exploited by those rejecting rehousing. It is argued that administrative idealism always hits the same wall: real management. This is not a new argument, but here it has concrete support, a building, and a number. Those defending rehousing respond that rules can be adapted; those rejecting it say rules exist for a reason.

Where to take them: From Galapagar Manor to Bonanova

The question "Why not your house?" runs through the entire discussion. The manor in Galapagar—"3,000 m² in the marquisate," it is pointed out—appears as an ironic destination for the 400. Also mentioned are Bonanova, Sarrià, Tres Torres, Sant Cugat, and Sant Just Desvern, high-income neighborhoods and municipalities invited to experience the multiculturalism that, according to this reading, they would have promoted from their offices.

The argument has an uncomfortable logic: if solidarity is a good, let those with the most resources practice it. The counter-response is that solidarity is not imposed by neighborhood nor dosed by postal code. In the middle remains a fact nobody disputes: 400 people need a roof and the clock is ticking.

What about non-migrants?

A voice introduces a nuance that often gets buried: a Spaniard left homeless in Badalona who asks social services for help does not receive asylum. The comparison does not aim to resolve the case but to highlight a perceived asymmetry in access to public resources. It is the type of assertion launched without data and, precisely for that reason, ignites both sides.

The discussion drifted toward rougher terrain, with proposals for deportation and calls for confrontation that add nothing to the problem and much noise. When the tone rises, the data falls. And without data, all that remains is the slogan.

---

In the end, the standoff reduces to an unanswered question: whether Badalona's shelter opens or not, and who assumes the political cost of it not opening. The Government has already asked. Albiol has already said no. The 400 continue to wait.