On 15 May 2011, one poster on the streets of Barcelona summed it up well: Democracia: te quiero, pero te siento un poco ausente. (“Democracy: I love you, but I feel you have grown a bit absent”). Hundreds of thousands of angry Spaniards took to the streets, shouting, “No nos representan!” (“You don’t represent us”), and “Si, se puede!” (“Yes, you can!”). This day, known locally as 15-M, represented a significant shift in Spain’s political scene. Protestors were not only protesting the government’s austerity measures, but were rebelling more generally against Spain’s political culture.
Four years later, municipal elections shook up the country’s traditional political party system. People crowded the streets of Barcelona once again, this time to celebrate the victory of Ada Colau as mayor. Colau, an anti-eviction activist, made her name as a founding member of Plataforma de los Afectados por la Hipoteca (PAH), a housing rights movement that gained visibility in the 2011 protests. In Madrid, people celebrated the victory of Manuela Carmena, a prominent judge and human rights advocate. Spanish voters were sending a clear message: they wanted “ordinary people” in power, and they elected two strong, high profile women linked to the social movements that had spearheaded the 15-M protests.
What were the good and bad aspects of being “solid”, conventionally organized entities in a “liquid” world of quickly evolving individuals and social movements? Traditional political parties have scrambled to figure out what mass street protests mean for them, but so have civil society organizations, including prominent rights groups such as Observatori Desc, Salud por Derecho, and Ecologistas en Acción. How were these organizations affected? What were the good and bad aspects of being “solid”, conventionally organized entities in a “liquid” world of quickly evolving individuals and social movements?