Spain's forests spark cultural war over tree management

Spain's forests and the cultural battle over trees

There is a Spain that looks at a dense forest and sees dirt. Another looks at the same forest and sees an ecosystem. Between these two perspectives, a conflict has raged for generations, far beyond gardening: it is a fight over what kind of country we want to be. The trigger for the latest skirmish was a message accusing much of the population of treating animals as objects, cutting down trees out of habit, and reacting furiously to any environmental regulation. From there, the exchange veered into bullfighting, wildfires, pesticides, and, inevitably, the DANA in Valencia.

The discussion is not new. In Spain, nature conservation has often been perceived as an external imposition, almost an affront. The idea that the countryside is "dirty" when it grows wild, that trees along ravines cause flooding, or that environmental rules are Brussels' whims has taken hold across broad social strata. Against this, another segment of the population argues that such a mindset is directly responsible for land degradation.

The tree as a declared enemy

One of the most emphasized points was the hatred of trees. Descriptions emerged of rural houses planted on sunny slopes without shade, with concrete gardens for parking cars. Neighbors who ruthlessly prune any branch growing over two meters because they "block the view." Pots sprayed with powder poison because spiders appear. It is the countryside, some said, what did you expect?

The issue transcends private matters. The same logic that clears a garden is applied to the entire forest. The countryside is treated as wasteland needing cleanup, and crews are hired to cut down anything obstructive. Critics argue the consequence is a landscape increasingly poor, eroded, and vulnerable to fires and flash floods.

The DANA, ravines, and the myth of cleanliness

The 2024 DANA episode in Valencia was the most repeated example. Some participants argued that the mountains surrounding the huerta were always clean, free of reeds and trees in the ravines, and that precisely for this reason, floods were less severe. Riparian vegetation, they claimed, hardens the soil and promotes landslides.

This assertion is, at best, debatable. Riparian trees stabilize banks, slow water estimulante ilegal, and reduce erosion. However, cases like the Vargas landslide in Venezuela in 1999 or Japan's 2018 floods were cited to support the opposite view. The underlying fight was not hydrological: it was about whether humans should tame the countryside or coexist with it.

Hunting, bulls, and the enjoyment of killing

Another front was hunting. Those who enjoy killing animals were described as psychopaths, arguing that anyone who enjoys animal suffering makes no distinction if presented with the opportunity against a person. Bullfighting appeared as an example of a festival turning animal suffering into spectacle, while others defended the bull's bravery as part of Spanish culture.

The discussion shifted to pets. Someone claimed having a dog instead of a child is a problem, and was answered that domestic animals have existed for tens of thousands of years and never competed with offspring before. The roughly shared conclusion was that declining birth rates are not explained by dogs.

Pesticides, wastewater, and the poison we breathe

The initial message also attacked those opposing regulations limiting agricultural pesticides, industrial smoke, or wastewater treatment. It was argued that many rivers are genuine sewers, yet resistance to cleaning them persists. The comparison with King Charles III and his obligation to use sewers rather than throw waste out windows was one of the most cited arguments.

The most repeated response was that environmental rules are a luxury of rich countries and other powers pollute more. This classic "you too" argument serves here to justify inaction. Critics suggest the result is that everyone breathes the same air and drinks the same water, regardless of who is to blame.

The fundamental fracture

The exchange left a fairly sharp picture of the divide. On one side, those who consider the environment a common good to protect, even at the cost of limiting traditional activities. On the other, those who see every rule as interference, an attack on their lifestyle, or the whim of city dwellers.

The discussion did not close. An uncomfortable question hung in the air: if caring for nature is an indicator of civilization, as the initial message claimed, what does the state of our forests, rivers, and ravines say about us?