It is not the intention of this report, nor of the producers present in it, to make a pity, since many times the image has been given that farmers cry non-stop. However, it is necessary to bring to light the other side of agriculture that is not often shown, showing the reality behind these beautiful fields and hamlets that appear on the postcard. “The image of the rural world when we go out in the street, at fairs or in the press is often very idyllic and folkloric, we do not show too much what is behind it,” explains Ramón Roa, a vegetable producer from Álava and a member of EHKOlektibo.

And what's behind the postcard or basket? There are producers who satisfy their jobs, but there are also producers who are in difficult and precarious situations: many agro-ecological projects have to close their doors immediately. Not only beginners, but also long-term projects are endangered when any element of the chain fails. Farmers live in a situation of constant vulnerability. Proof of this is, for example, the gross data of the French State: a farmer committed suicide every two days in 2007-2011, according to a report published in 2016 by the French Public Health and the Agrarian Mutual Society MSA.

Hanging from a thread

Ramón Roa and Josebe Blanco of EHKOlektiboa state that the situation of vulnerability occurs throughout the sector and in a generalized way. “We know that in the street there is also a very complicated situation and that the precariousness is greater, but in the rural world the situation is even harder”, Blanco regrets. In the succession of domains of the structural precariousness of our society, farmers are situated a little further down, as they consider that if people who live in the city do not have decent incomes, they will hardly be able to buy the products of the baserritars.

In the last year they have suffered floods in the orchards, which has overwhelmed their plans. “Everything we have spent this year has forced us to take the whole project – the agri-ecological initiative Tierrapeltijera located in Salcedo – and to say ‘encouragement, let us go ahead!’. But how many times can we do it?” he asks. They say that when the project is underway, when there's a lot of force and enthusiasm, it's easier to keep going. But if a situation like this is more tired or lower in mood, the chances of losing everything are multiplied.

A similar experience has had that of the horticulturist Aner Garitaonandia Berasaluze of Atxondo (Bizkaia). “Two streams passing by the farmhouse overflowed and suffered flooding: all the orchard and the land, what it had planted, the locks and the fences…” It has been four or five months without revenue and has had to repurchase the raw materials and the material needed to renew the infrastructure; in addition to the expenditure, the workload has been double. However, there are those who accuse him of not bringing tomato to the market.

What was experienced in the last year by a dairy cowboy from Gipuzkoa, who asked us not to sign us, also evidences the vulnerability of the sector. Over the years, a small dairy farmer bought him most of the milk he extracted from his ten cows, but from one day to the next, due to an illness, the producer had stopped taking milk and the cream had filled its tanks, without being able to take the product out. “When I thought the project was already settled and that it was going to go on like this for a long time, all of a sudden, I had to hit from the outside and start again from scratch,” he says. On the one hand, there is an economic blow, but the producer tells us that often the emotional is much worse.

Satisfied, but with difficulties

All the interviewees repeat over and over again that they are very happy with what they do and that for nothing they would change their trade. “We live with passion our work, and we almost live with passion,” says Maite Sánchez, the cowgirl of Goizueta (Navarra). But it's only from passion and joy that you can't live, and if the sector is based on that, you can hardly survive in the future. Once the calculations were done, Sanchez and his children, and the salary went well below the euro of the hour. “Eating what we produce saves us, otherwise it would not be possible to live like this,” he says.

In the same line is pronounced Blanco de EHKOlektiboko: “We assume that our salary is not entirely in euros, that being content with what we have done is also of great value. But that doesn’t feed us.” Farmers have to shoulder large workloads and responsibilities in order to be able to make a small wage, and many external factors influence that money: the climate, attacks by dogs or other predators, diseases and accidents, the waste of a van or machine, changes by shoppers... There are many factors that can frustrate the project.

Producers denounce that people expect the same form of production from farmers and from a factory: linear, always the same. Working with nature makes it impossible. “The problems that occur to us are normal, often caused by nature; you don’t have to oppose it, but we have to bear in mind that any small uncertainty can question the whole project,” says Roa.

What solution does the administration give to small farmers working in agroecology in the face of all these problems? Well, one and only, as the producers say: “Increase your production, industrialize.”

Agro-ecological model, unprotected

“Small farmers are forced to operate as machines; that’s why we can’t get sick, we can’t be an accident, nothing can happen to us,” explains Blanco. In the words of the producers, the administration only takes account of industrial agriculture, to the detriment of small producers: structures, subsidy systems, insurance, health requirements… everything is geared towards the agricultural industrial model. “The Administration says there is room for everyone, for industry and for small producers. But that has a trap, because we can’t compete in any way with their prices,” says EHKOlektibo’s pastor.
The biggest mistake, however, is that the two models are not distinguished, according to the producers. In other words, to make the same demands of the small farmer who wants to make twenty cheeses and of a fully industrialized dairy company. “If the two models are totally different, what the administration has to ask and offer to the two should be absolutely different,” says Roa. In this sense, they denounce the “total lack of knowledge” that exists around agroecology: agroecology is not taught in schools and universities, and technicians are not prepared to value the projects that work in this model.

The same is true of insurance. Gipuzkoa’s dairy cow producer tells us about ‘agroinsurance’: “They are heavily subsidized, a lot of public money is put in, but they play in totally industrial parameters.” For example, the average survival of dairy cows in Gipuzkoa is four years, and for insurance cows over that age are worthless, if something happens they give almost nothing to the producers. On the contrary, the average age of the cows of the stables of the baserritars working in the agro-ecological model is higher, so the insurance does not serve them much.

Sánchez, the cowboy from Goizueta, is very critical of the current system of economic aid. It explains that aid for the construction of a flag valued at millions is very easy to be granted by the administration, but it is very difficult to obtain aid for a brokerage. Blanco makes the following reflection: “We, small producers, have the conditions of the third world, but living in the first world. They have created a system of subsidies to cover these imbalances.”

Loneliness of farmers

Farmers tell us that they live in isolation and isolation in many cases. Also physical loneliness, but above all emotional loneliness. “Doing any small job on your own, when you’re in the cottage, makes everything difficult, but more than that, my feeling of loneliness is that nobody understands me,” says Garitonandia, a horticulturist. Everyone agrees that having a social life is complicated, as well as reconciling work and family life. “I have the support of my partner, not just economic. In summer, when I'm working in the garden, someone has to be with the kids. Therefore, this burden is not only that of the farmer, but also that of the neighbor,” says the Biscayan producer.

In this sense, Blanco explains what it means that the dwelling is far from the mountain and the center of the city: “Every morning we have to travel 60 kilometers to bring the children to school. Do I have to have two cars at home for that? Isn’t it compulsory education?” In their opinion, the problem is that the administration does not take into account the baserritars in their entirety, that they live and not only at work. In many cases, baserritars do not have access to transport or other public services.

What if he fell ill? All of them respond similarly: "Get sick?" What is that?” They say the best way not to get sick is to be autonomous. The baserritars have, however, something that differentiates them from the self-employed in other professions: the total dependence on external factors. “An electrician knows that he is going to charge for the work he does, we don’t know: first, we don’t know if the vegetables will go well, then we will sell them, and if we sell them at what price…”, says Garitaonandia. Uncertainty is absolute.

Exit from the community

It is the darkest part of the reality that farmers in the Basque Country experience. It is clear to all producers that there are very few people as happy with what they do as they do. There is no doubt that in the most difficult situations the majority of farmers decide to continue with this livelihood. “It seems that everything is profitability. When are they going to measure people’s level of satisfaction?” asks the Biscayan vegetarian.

In view of all these difficulties and obstacles, it is clear that society and the administration have the opportunity to take it seriously and to do something if the disappearance of the dwelling is to be avoided. “Maybe people don’t want small farmers, but industrialize everything and it’s over,” says Roa of EHKOlektibo. Perhaps we would like to limit the cottage to that photo of postcard and to the elegant clothes with which we dress once a year at folkloric parties.

If the intention is different, it will be essential to improve the conditions. How? There are no magic formulas, but producers have given several clues: to create a collective project(go), to look for new models and ways to guarantee the future of the farmhouse, to promote solidarity between the baserritars and that both administrations and people assume their responsibility. White clearly explains: “The question is not what we have to do, but what society has to do. Because I don’t understand that we are separated, but that we are two pieces of the same puzzle.”