SEVILLE, Spain — Last weekend, a remarkable scene unfolded in Paiporta, a town of about 25,000 people and a suburb of the metropolis of Valencia on Spain’s eastern Mediterranean coast. Citizens approached the royal couple, King Felipe VI and Queen Letizia, as they toured the damage caused by last week’s storms which left more than 200 dead.

A woman approached the Queen, who looked distressed as protests were heard in the background while another person uploaded the scene to social media. “Letizia, Doña Letizia,” the woman said to the queen, using the Spanish word of respect for the monarch, who had mud on her jacket. She held the woman’s hands.

Another man approached the royal couple and spoke to the king: “This government must go. Felipe, there are dead people there, man.

Two days later, this scene still resonates throughout Spain; Ordinary citizens are generally not allowed to get that close to the royal couple, let alone speak to them in such an informal manner. The exchange became a symbol of public anger over the government’s response to the deadly storms. Public outrage grew in cities devastated by the storm. But last Sunday, public outrage became evident.

The storm has now become the country’s worst natural disaster in recent memory. At least 215 people are believed to have died. An unknown number of people are still missing, as rescuers work intensively to access all affected areas.

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AFP via Getty Images

Who was behind Sunday’s protests?

During the visit of the monarchs to Paiporta, accompanied by Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, as well as Carlos Mazón, president of the autonomous government of the Valencia region, altercations broke out. Some threw mud at the government contingent, shouted at them, insulted them, calling them “murderers,” urging them to leave the city immediately. Objects were also thrown and a scene of chaos ensued.

What happened that morning is still unclear. Subsequent media reports uncover what may have been an organized attempt by the far right to sabotage officials’ visit on Sunday. Far-right groups online have claimed that they managed to hit Sánchez in the back and “destroy his car”. Some of these statements have been debunkedbut on Monday, the Spanish Minister of the Interior confirmed that at least one object hit Sánchez on Sunday. Observers say what happened that day represents an escalation of the political polarization taking place in Spain, where the rise of the far-right Vox party in recent years has disrupted the two-party system.

On Sunday, after Sánchez was taken away by his security services, King Felipe VI and Queen Letizia stayed behind to speak with frustrated citizens. The images of this scene will remain in the memory of the Spaniards, and perhaps become an iconic moment for the monarchs, who have struggled to shake off both the unpopular legacy of former King Juan Carlos I, Felipe’s father, and their own reputation as distant representatives of an undemocratic institution.

But despite what happened on Sunday, and while it remains unclear to what extent the escalation is attributable to far-right groups, one thing seems clear: residents of the region devastated by the storm are saddened, and sometimes also angry.

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AFP via Getty Images

The real growing anger of survivors

Javier Ruiz Martínez is a journalist for the Spanish radio channel Cadena SER. He was on the ground covering the disaster. Last Sunday, he sent me a series of audio messages while standing in the streets of Alfafar under an umbrella. It was still raining in Valencia.

Images went around the world showing cars piled on top of each other, a bridge swept away by a swollen river and towns completely covered in mud. Citizen videos show similar scenes of violent rivers flooding the streets, in what looks more like a tsunami than what we usually think of as a flood.

I ask Javier what he saw that isn’t reflected in these images. He talks about the possessions that people have lost. Sometimes they are seemingly insignificant items: a collection of comic books kept from childhood, college notes carefully preserved for decades. And photos.

But what strikes you most, says Javier, is the smell.

“The rotten smells that invade everyone who comes here. The feeling that what is going to happen could be even worse than what has already happened.”

Javier says watching all this is costing him too. He tries to remain objective but says he found himself hugging survivors after interviewing them. “That sadness, that first feeling of sadness, is now turning into anger.”

Javier says what happened Sunday with the king and queen isn’t entirely surprising: “I think there’s a general feeling of rage among the survivors.”

Amaia Contel is a teacher based in Valencia. She echoes what Javier said. People are “sad, outraged and angry,” she said. Amaia is one of thousands of volunteers who have organized to help with recovery efforts. On Sunday, three questions led to a heartbreaking 37-minute testimony.

“As of Thursday, there was already an elaborate system developed by volunteers for where to send help, and even for survivors to report their immediate needs,” she said. These volunteers traveled kilometers on foot to reach the devastated areas. Amaia said she was on the ground on Saturday and when she arrived in the town of Benetússer she saw no firefighters, trucks or soldiers: “You realize that no official help has arrived yet.

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AFP via Getty Images

A natural disaster becomes political

The government has deployed thousands of soldiers, police, civil guards and firefighters to the region. But managing the crisis requires collaboration between the regional government of Valencia, in the hands of the conservatives, and the central government, controlled by the progressives.

Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez has repeatedly stated said that the regional government of Valencia only has to ask for what it needs and the central government will provide it. Sánchez also called for political unity in this time of national crisis. The president of the regional government of Valencia, Carlos Mazón, defended his management of the crisis, pointing the finger at the central government.

There even seems to be a lack of agreement within the conservative party, with its national leader, Alberto Núñez Feijóo, call the central government must intervene directly and Mazón does not want to give up command of the recovery efforts.

The official agency that oversees weather events, AEMETbegan warning citizens as early as Oct. 24 of the arrival of what is called a DANA, a severed low-pressure storm system that migrates from an unusually wavy and blocked jet stream. DANAs are not unusual in Spain, but this time torrential rain was forecast in the region.

AEMET also issued warnings, including a red level alert for the area, on October 29 early in the morning. But the direct alert sent to citizens’ cell phones, sent by the Valencia regional government, was issued shortly after 8 p.m. on the day of the storm. By then, flooding was well underway during rush hour, and many citizens on the road were heading home. The destruction was going to happen anyway, but the terrible human toll could have been avoided.

Amaia Contel points the finger at the regional government of Mazón. She said seeing what was happening miles away inspired her to take action. She’s not a hero, she says, but she’s simply doing what’s right, and it’s the solidarity of volunteers like her that helps survivors.

“The slogan used on social networks and solidarity networks is ‘El pueblo salva al pueblo’.”

“The people will save the people,” Amaia said.

On Monday morning, Spanish radio commentators discussed efforts by the Spanish far right to take advantage of this crisis. They mention that these groups now use the same slogan, “El pueblo salva al pueblo”.

The post-flood recovery crisis has now become deeply political in Spain. Slogans are stolen and hijacked, people argue in cafes and bars over whether Sánchez or Mazón are responsible for the tragedy, while survivors continue to suffer.

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