The Saviours Of Mallorca

Mallorca needs saving, not from a collective fall from grace but by conservers and preservers of nature and of the manmade, fighting the good fight against claimers and defilers of the environment and of heritage. "Salvem" is the new rallying cry. Save this, save that. If we don't save whatever it is, then Mallorca is lost. Saving is all around us; calls for the conservation and preservation of both the great and the small are as never before.

There are "salvem" campaigns, groups, platforms, blogs, social media sites in abundance. So great is the saving that it might prove counterproductive; the island could sink under its sheer weight. To all the previous savings, two more have just recently sprung up from a land which, while not all of it is fertile, manages to organically grow new sources of saviour sustenance. "Salvem Sa Canova", "Salvem Portocolom" have allied themselves with, inter alia, "Salvem Es Molinar", "Salvem Sant Kanut", "Salvem Ses Fontanelles", "Salvem Andratx", "Salvem Es Trenc", "Salvem els Paisatges de les Illes Balears".

The two most recent campaigns conveniently distinguish between conservation (the environment) and preservation (buildings and traditions). Sa Canova is the former; Portocolom the latter. But there is common ground between both: symbolism, iconic status, heritage. Sa Canova beach is symbolic of unspoiled coast and iconic as a consequence, while the lighthouse in Portocolom is symbolic of a history that stretches back to the middle of the nineteenth century and is iconic because, well, lighthouses are deemed to be iconic.

The descriptions are a touch overworked. So much is symbolic or iconic that the words lose their power through their constant reiteration. But let us not quibble with the sentiments that inspire saving campaigns to invoke them; these campaigns generally have right and sincerity on their side as well as a moral rectitude of conservation and preservation to support them.

Sa Canova beach lies between Son Serra de Marina and Colonia Sant Pere and falls within the municipality of Artà. It is rustic beach, backed by dunes with one-time submarine-target towers that are familiar to the bay of Alcúdia coastline. Part of it is well known for being a nudist beach, but this is not its only attraction. It represents beach life that was once how it was. Son Serra de Marina, from where most of its visitors come, is Mallorca beach of a past time; laidback and undisturbed with a veneer of contemporary coolness and surf.

Somewhere along its length, the town hall in Artà is considering the installation of a chiringuito beach bar. It would, in all likelihood, be in the more popular nudist section, a walk of perhaps five minutes or so from the couple of bars which mark where Son Serra ends. "Salvem Sa Canova" doesn't want this chiringuito. Rustic beach should be rustic beach and that means the exclusion of a building, even if it would only be temporary and would be dismantled at the end of the season.

Justification for the beach bar is slim. It might be argued that it would be advantageous in terms of providing an additional attraction to tourists, but the argument lacks weight. Tourists go there precisely because the beach is unspoiled, while it is not as if there aren't places for refreshment close by or as if it is too far to walk with cool boxes. Artà town hall might eye up some revenue from granting a concession, though even this might have to be shared with the Costas Authority (which appears to have given its blessing). Why bother? It seems unnecessary.

The lighthouse in Portocolom is one of six lighthouses that the Balearics Ports Authority wishes to privatise. It would still operate as a lighthouse but would be converted into a hotel, a form of privatisation which, while not uncommon in other countries, had not been pursued in Spain until the national development ministry gave the go ahead for regional ports authorities to permit it a couple of years ago.

"Salvem Portocolom" is planning a protest against the privatisation plan later this month, arguing that conversion would conflict with the lighthouse's heritage value, history and status within the public domain. However, though the lighthouse is, given its coastal location, within the (state's) public domain, it isn't for public use. At present, it is well maintained but perhaps the fear is that, sometime in the future, it might not be, while clearly the state has a source of revenue to interest it. But if its appearance were not altered, would privatisation and conversion be so harmful? Maybe not, but for the saviours of the lighthouse, what matters are the symbolism and the heritage. The opposition is essentially, therefore, an emotional one, just as it is in Sa Canova, but what's wrong with this? Some things are worth conserving and preserving for their emotional value, and the number of "salvem" campaigns across Mallorca prove the point.