A large and almost comically sinister fish named Guggenheim is on the loose in and around the ancient Basque town of Guernica, its jaws perilously close to snapping shut on a twitchy-looking tiddler called Urdaibai.
Images of the predator and its prey have been proliferating on posters, bus stops and walls in the area since last summer as fears grow over what the suggested outpost of the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao could mean for Guernica and the adjacent Urdaibai biosphere reserve.
Although the Guggenheim, which opened 27 years ago this month, has proved a mighty engine in Bilbao’s shift from post-industrial decline to powerhouse of culture tourism, not everyone wants the experiment replicated.
Critics argue that the new museum, which would be spread across two sites – one in Guernica and one in Urdaibai – will ruin the 22,068-hectare biosphere reserve by bringing at least 140,000 visitors a year into the protected natural space.
Local groups and environmental NGOs such as Greenpeace, WWF, Ecologists in Action, Friends of the Earth and SEO/BirdLife, are calling for the project to be abandoned. It makes no sense, they say, to introduce such a large number of people into Urdaibai, which was declared a biosphere reserve by Unesco in 1984, and whose estuarine salt marshes and cliffs host both local wildlife and migrating birds, which stop off on the way from northern Europe to Africa.
But the scheme’s backers, who include the Guggenheim Foundation, the Basque government and local and regional authorities, say the museum is part of a wider attempt to revitalise and restore the area, attract investment and create jobs.
Opponents are almost as angry at the way in which the project has so far been implemented as they are at its possible consequences. Despite what campaigners call a total lack of consultation, the proposed entry point of the museum, the long-disused Dalia factory in Guernica – once one of the largest cutlery manufacturers in Europe – has already been bulldozed, save for its attractive 1950s facade.
According to the plans that have made their way into the public domain, that site will house “a residence and encounter” space. From there, visitors will embark on a path that will lead them a few kilometres out of Guernica and into the main museum site, which will be built in Urdaibai, on the site of a shipyard.
“The main thing here is that the project isn’t the result of any diagnosis, programme or planning,” says Joserra Díez, a member of the Guggenheim Urdaibai Stop platform, which is coordinating a large demonstration on Saturday. “It’s just something that’s cropped up because of the hunger of the Guggenheim Foundation in Bilbao to see how it can extend its successful museum project.”
Diego Ortuzar, a spokesperson for Ecologists in Action Bizkaia, is blunter still. He points out that the projected visitor numbers would be almost three times the current resident population of the area.
“This could wreck the whole area,” he says. “If the Guggenheim is built then the biosphere reserve will basically disappear. The area will cease to function as a protected natural area and will become something else: there will be roads and cars and hotels.”
Ortuzar, Díez and many others wonder how increased tourism – a phenomenon that has led to a series of protests across Spain in recent years – can possibly be the answer to the region’s post-industrial economic challenges.
“There are other alternatives as we don’t know what the result will be – we don’t know whether it will bring in lots of tourists and money or just make everything more expensive,” said Iñaki Arrazua, 51, a cooperative worker who had stopped for a coffee in a cafe in Guernica.
“The people who live here have seen all the industry die off and now there are no factories. Industry has always been seen as synonymous with pollution but it doesn’t have to be like that these days – there’s AI and information technology and chips and everything. There are loads of options and lots of space here.”
Others, however, are more excited by the prospect of a large influx of visitors – and the money they bring. “We need it,” said one local bar owner. “If they’re going to put a big tourist draw here, then great. All the businesses here want more customers. Why wouldn’t you want that?”
Sources in the Basque regional government and the provincial authorities in Bizkaia (Biscay) were keen to emphasise that their plan for the wider Busturialdea area was about more than just the Guggenheim.
“It’s also about basic infrastructure for education, health, employment, sanitation, water supplies, transport – and creating new economic activities,” they told the Guardian. “And the museum is being advanced as a driving-force project that will help tackle some of those issues.”
Although they said the plan was at a “very early stage”, they maintained that developing activity in the reserve was compatible with protecting the environment.
No decision was said to be imminent and they were keen to have public consultations on the matter. “No irreversible step will be taken over the next two years because we’re talking about a complex reality involving multiple actors and pieces,” they said. “Now is the time for talking and listening.”
Juan Ignacio Vidarte, the director-general of the Guggenheim Bilbao, also emphasised that there were no concrete plans when it came to the final shape of the museum. But he defended the project’s green credentials and its possible benefits, and said some parties in the Basque Country were seeking to politicise the issue for their own benefit.
While he understood people’s worries and their concerns about the lack of information, Vidarte said the new museum could help to energise the local economy.
“According to the development figures, this area is the second most depressed part of the Basque Country – and there’s a logic to that,” he says. “A lot of economic activities aren’t compatible with [Urdaibai’s] status as a natural reserve … We think a certain kind of tourism – but not just any kind of tourism – is compatible and we think the project we’re proposing has taken that very much into account.”
Vidarte also said the idea of 140,000 visitors descending on Urdaibai was a distraction, and that tickets would have to be reserved in advance, allowing the museum to control daily visitor numbers.
Such arguments are unlikely to convince Ramón Gezuraga and his friend, José Antonio Urrutia, found walking the paths in Urdaibai they had known since they were children six decades ago. They remembered how people used to cut grass for their livestock here, and how the devastating floods of 1983 showed the area’s vulnerability.
As the late afternoon sun poured its light over the estuary, causing the feathers of a nearby kingfisher to sparkle, Gezuraga said he suspected people were missing the point.
“One of the big questions among the hundreds we have is, ‘Do we need a Guggenheim Museum here?,’” he said. “Or is the museum already here?” He stretched his arms out as if to embrace the entire reserve.
“The museum’s already here. Tell me what could be more beautiful than this?”
