Puig de Sant Pere: from tragedy to gentrification

PalmHalf a century ago, humble people lived on Puig de Sant Pere in Palma. The Baluarte and the Can Sales library, but it has entered—like so many places in the archipelago—into a process of gentrification, that is, the purchase of homes by well-off European citizens.

Mallorcan filmmaker Luis Ortas, a resident of the neighborhood and currently filming the documentary Viva el Puig de Sant Pere, states that this area "has practically not changed in 700 years." People from sea-related occupations lived here, such as fishermen and boat repairers. The tourism boom brought in newcomers from the Iberian Peninsula. This mix wasn't anything new either: long before then, Mallorcans had already lived alongside neighbors from other backgrounds, such as Genoese.

The origins of Puig date back to before the conquest of 1229. Excavations in the late 1990s, at the end of the 20th century, revealed an Islamic tower, surrounded by later constructions. According to Aina Pascual and Jaume Llabrés, this area was known—and still is—as Santa Creu, after the parish church. But in 1576, there was already evidence of a fishermen's guild dedicated to Saint Peter—the patron saint of the guild—from which it took its current name. Three access gates to the city were located here: the Porto Pi gate and two named after Saint Catherine; the Old Gate and the New Gate, which gave their name to the current square. Architect Joana Roca located the remains of the two oldest access gates during these restoration works.

In fact, Puig de Sant Pere should no longer exist. Palma's 1943 General Plan for its demolition. The architect, Gabriel Alomar Esteve, had to reluctantly include this project, as it was included in the terms of the City Council's call for proposals—of course, Franco's government. Although he declared himself "convinced" that such an outrage would never be carried out.

The Fall of the Wall

The Puig's flagship was—and is—the Sant Pere Bastion, an "imposing" fortress, according to Pascual y Llabrés. Erected between the 16th and 17th centuries, it was subsequently remodeled several times, depending on the military needs of the time. It served as an infantry barracks—with more than 500 soldiers—and an artillery barracks until, in the mid-20th century, with a completely different defensive landscape, it lost its military use. Nowadays, the old cistern has come to light and, in the heart of the Es Baluard museum, is currently used as a space for artistic expression and as an event hall. The ARA Balears Awards ceremony is held in this unique space, for example.

Over time, modest houses were built clinging to the walls of the Baluard, like the residents themselves. This posed a strategic problem: in the event of a conflict, finding themselves with a large number of civilians in a military zone was a complication. In Menorca, the British moved the San Felipe suburb, now the Castell, one kilometer away for this very reason. However, as the bastion lost its defensive functions, those houses were able to remain.

Puig de Sant Pere was closely linked to the 1936 coup d'état. Machine guns were installed on the Baluard to combat Republican air forces. Part of the former Can Sales site, adjacent to the current library, was famously used as a women's prison. The Plaza de la Puerta de Santa Catalina temporarily lost its good name and was named after the "Jinetes de Alcalá" (Riders of Alcalá), a group of coup plotters. Furthermore, a monument was dedicated to them in the same square. This one was removed, already under democracy, without too much fuss, and without anyone, unlike neighboring Feixina, even thinking of declaring that fascist monstrosity a Site of Cultural Interest or anything similar.

The old bastion had been auctioned off and had passed into private ownership when, at dawn on January 11, 1963, part of the wall collapsed, causing a veritable avalanche of stones to fall into the bed of the Riera, practically blocking it. It seemed like a fortuitous event, but it wasn't. Two months later, the civil governor announced the imprisonment of the owner and the contractor, as responsible for the damage caused to a building declared a National Monument.

It was no secret that this degraded area of Palma, within a new panorama of tourist exploitation, concealed a gold mine: the sea views. As early as 1956, an editorial in Diario de Mallorca had sounded the alarm: the space corresponding to the old bastion should be open to Majorcans, with gardens and a viewing platform, which was not incompatible with "a residential neighborhood" or "a hotel." And the City Council should ensure that this was possible.

Chronicle of a disaster foretold

The next episode was much worse. It occurred on July 18, 1975—yes, precisely the Regime's holiday, the last during Franco's lifetime. Two buildings on Pólvora Street collapsed, burying four members of the same family, of modest means, who had come to live in Palma from Andalusia. Firefighters managed to rescue two children alive, but a mother and her two-year-old son died.

Despite the self-censorship imposed by the Regime, the newspapers were keen to remind us that, from their pages, they had already warned of the danger posed by those buildings in poor condition. Journalists Sebastià Verd and Josep J. Rosselló posed the fateful question: who was responsible? The cause was the medical intervention that should have been applied long ago, which hadn't been done.

It was, saving the distances and on another scale, something similar to what happened in Bilbao after the catastrophic floods of 1983, with the 'Guggenheim effect' – the museum. The then young Puig de Sant Pere Residents' Association, as Antoni Janer has reported in these pages, demanded the comprehensive rehabilitation of the neighborhood, now making it possible for the residents to stay there, without having to move to another place, or be replaced by new settlers with greater purchasing power – what we now call 'gentrification'. This was made possible thanks to a Special Plan for Interior Reform (PERI), a pioneer in Spain, which was implemented under a democratic city council, starting in 1980.

The two facilities have also contributed to the neighborhood's revaluation: the Es Baluard museum, in the old fortress—a place that goes back to the fortress—a place that goes back to the old fortress—a place at the insistence of the editor Pere A. Serra—and the Can Sales public library, located on opposite corners of the Plaza de la Puerta de Santa Catalina. What remained of the old Can Salas Major, which was declared derelict, was rescued by the then regional director general of culture, Jaume Gil. In 2005, it was inaugurated as the new home of the library, which until then had been located in the Casa de Cultura on Carrer Ramon Llull. Es Baluard had already opened its doors in 2004.

Residents' Association spokesperson Laura Coracín announces the risk of gentrification looming over the neighborhood: "You can see the change." Longtime residents coexist with new owners: wealthy Northern Europeans. Authentic spaces still remain, like the Café Can Martí. But in the Plaza de la Puerta de Santa Catalina, Luis Ortas observes, "there are hardly any bars that serve you, not only in Catalan, but not even in Spanish."

Information compiled from studies by Aina Pascual and Jaume Llabrés, the Palma XXI collective, and the Mallorcan press of the time.