Article in the Times
Planning laws are a fairly basic cornerstone of modern property rights, which are in themselves a fairly basic cornerstone of modern democracy. Normally, those found in breach of them deserve short shrift. In Spain, however, an injustice is being perpetuated. Thousands of British homeowners who bought Spanish properties are living in fear of the day the bulldozers arrive. Meanwhile, the criminals and corrupt officials who lured them into this trap often face hardly any sanction at all.
The Spanish property market is, of course, a well-documented disaster zone. During the boom between 2004 and 2008 prices soared by 44 per cent, and a subsequent — and ongoing — slump has since seen a fall of around a third. Spanish banks remain horrifically exposed to bad property debt and are wary of lending further. Meanwhile, joblessness in the country is slowly falling, but official statistics still regard slightly over one in every four people (26 per cent) as unemployed. Against such a backdrop, one might have thought that relatively wealthy British expats and holidaymakers would be a cherished demographic. Yet the Spanish authorities appear unperturbed by their plight.
In fact, their plight is directly related to all that went wrong during the boom years. Swamped by demand, and sometimes actively in cahoots with corrupt developers, many small-town mayors granted planning permission left, right and centre. Much of this was then reviewed and overturned by the regional authorities. British buyers, many of whom were unable to speak the local language, often had little idea that all was not well. No doubt some were well aware that local laws were being stretched, but most appear to have been thoroughly conned by developers and councils and the lawyers appointed on their behalf. As The Times reports today, one couple later discovered that their so-called lawyer was a lorry driver.
The hard of heart might put this all down to a failure of core homebuying diligence, and feel little sympathy. The Spanish authorities, however, have taken a remarkably lacklustre approach to punishing the sharks, conmen and property developers who made it all possible. One case in Marbella led to the convictions of vast numbers of public officials, including two mayors and the former city planning chief, and displayed the vast wealth such people had amassed. Sentences, nonetheless, were light. In a few cases, the courts have ordered that developers or town halls should compensate those who have lost their homes. Yet the former invariably opt for bankruptcy instead, and even the latter seem markedly reluctant to pay out. Owners, often now back in Britain, face daunting and bewildering battles in foreign courts.
Many thousands of Spanish homebuyers, too, were victims. For British expats, many of them elderly, who may have poured the last of their savings into what were supposed to be retirement properties, the situation is both bleak and frightening. For the Spanish authorities, it is senseless. Across the country, hundreds of thousands of homes have been repossessed by banks. In Andalusia alone, it is estimated that 690,000 are standing empty. Here, unemployment is closer to 35 per cent. This, like much of the Costa del Sol, is a region where tourism is a major industry, and it is entirely understandable that the authorities should wish to protect the natural landscape. Rendering Spain a country in which foreigners fear to buy property would, nonetheless, be a grave mistake.
Source; The Times