20O was never intended as another large-scale demonstration against the socioeconomic and tourism framework of the Canary Islands. It aimed to serve as a reminder, a renewed call of rejection from a notable segment of Canarian society, not only for contesting the lack of existence beyond tourism but also for the detrimental ramifications of the model imposed on many parts of the Islands, particularly in the Southern areas, which has negatively impacted them for an extended period, as well as the territorial and sustainable preservation of an archipelago once referred to as “fortunate”.
If what some sought this afternoon in Adeje, located in the south of Tenerife, was a replication comparable to the more than 100,000 people mobilised six months prior, it is clear that they were mistaken regarding the power of mobilisation. If the intention was to create a significant impact on the tourism core of the Island, it is evident they achieved that, as the strength of the rationale remains robust and, now, bolstered with a palpable sense of frustration and fierce powerlessness, as it seems that regardless of their efforts, little will alter in the direction they desire. In essence, the governments will persist in being indifferent to their concerns.
One of the banners this bright southern noon appeared to encapsulate that sentiment and warned of the impending possible action: “We ask for it today please for the last time.” It feels as though exhaustion weighs heavily, and the forms of protests may evolve from this point onwards.
Although the demonstration, which later transformed into a march towards the beaches of Adeje, was organised for 12:00 next to the Metrópolis centre, it did not commence until 45 minutes later. During a significant portion of this interval, the participants scarcely occupied about 200 linear metres (at most) of the promenade leading to the Adejera coves, though more protesters joined later. In the absence of much more precise figures, and although in this scenario the organisers will not place as much emphasis on this, but rather on the strength of the reasons, the number of around 5,000 individuals was mentioned among some seasoned participants in these movements before they began to march. Nevertheless, their experience also contrasted with the considerable presence of young individuals, the vital force of this movement, at least for the moment.
Of course, beyond the numbers, the potency of the slogans, the insights of many banners and some striking phrases chanted as the march progressed indeed lived up to the historical precedent of 20A. The “dolls” of Fernando Clavijo and Jorge Marichal (Ashotel) reappeared; some commendable “disguises,” such as that of a shovel collecting a cetacean (mirroring real images) with its operator dressed with a headdress full of notes worth numerous euros, and many pro-independence flags. There were also some autonomous, Palestinian, minority parties (like the Communist Party of the Canary Islands) and anti-capitalist movements present, yet what mattered was the consensus that the tourism model has gone awry, that the profits are not shared fairly, and that the present and future consequences are simply unsustainable and intolerable.
Posters and slogans already heard
If a participant or observer remained in the same spot watching the protest unfold, it took roughly 20 minutes to witness the front banner, accompanied by the sound of drums and chácaras, and the line of demonstrators. Among them were longstanding slogans, with some newly reinforced since April for such occasions, like “the Canarian Coalition is a real estate agency,” “your business is my suffering,” “The Canary Islands do not sell themselves, they cherish and protect themselves,” “There is no bread for so much chorizo,” “less tourism and more foundations,” or “whoever governs, governs; the Canary Islands defend themselves.” Some even raised their voices against the regional president, daring to declare, “Clavijo, c…, we will see you in prison.”
The placards also displayed creativity and a humanistic viewpoint, such as one indicating that “the invasion does not arrive by boat or cayuco.” Furthermore, there were numerous complaints denouncing the “Canarian genocide,” others urging for “more avocados and fewer bricks” (a motto depicted on several shirts), some reminding of the water crisis in contrast to golf courses, and others stressing that, in effect, “tourism thrives off us” and that, fundamentally, this is a product of the most relentless capitalism, an adversary of all that embodies sustainability.
Shortly after departing from the initial location, the tourists who had previously captured images of the demonstrators were engaging in a “typical tourist experience” with the azure Atlantic providing a backdrop, surfers capitalising on prime conditions, and leisurely walking towards Los Cristianos (Arona) as if nothing were amiss, with La Gomera etched against the skyline. It presented a stark contrast to a Sunday in mid-October during summer in a paradise with numerous radically differing interpretations, as evidenced by this protest juxtaposed with the everyday operations of the island’s “economic engine” witnessed yesterday.
Meanwhile, the procession made its way to the most tourist-heavy coastline of Playa de Las Américas, where numerous visitors snapped pictures of the “scene”, some even expressing interest in its motives and demands, yet many others were seemingly lost in a parallel universe.
The most fervent moments unfolded on several beaches in Adeje, such as Troya. The demonstrators ventured onto the sand, mingling with sunbathers, and formed chants around tourists who, in some instances unfazed, tolerated the slogans and the spectacle that many sought, while others might view as an example of harassment of a vital subsector.
The 20A movement continues to stand strong for its cause, yet replicas like today’s, regardless of the commendation the participants deserve for their efforts on a Sunday morning in the most touristy part of the South, may somewhat placate those who promptly engage the verb “click,” oblivious to how, not long ago, they noted the overwhelming disapproval from a significant segment of Canarian society towards this exploitative approach to conceptualising and perpetuating the production of certain golden eggs… For some more than for many, of course.