Celestí Alomar has died: What the dispute over the ecotax still tells us

Celestí Alomar has died: What the dispute over the ecotax still tells us

A politician, a tax and the open question of how Mallorca will pay for its future

On Monday in Palma, Celestí Alomar died at the age of 76 after a short, serious illness. Born in Llubí, he studied geography and history in Barcelona, worked in Madrid and for a long time was considered a formative figure of the regional social democracy. Anyone walking along the Passeig del Born in Palma still hears stories from that time at every second café: heated debates, passersby with opinions and residents concerned about their streets and beaches.

Key question: Can a charge on guests — a small fee per night — really be a lever to protect quality of life and nature without damaging the economy?

In the early 2000s Alomar introduced the now-known ecotax; the levy came into force in 2002. The measure divided opinion: in the corridors of the tourism industry anger boiled over, with threats and loud scenes in the ministry. On the other hand, there was a political current that demanded securing revenues for infrastructure and environmental protection for the island. Regardless of how one felt about Alomar personally, the confrontation highlights something that still applies today: the question of financing and distributing the costs of tourism is not purely economic, it is deeply political.

Anyone strolling through the Mercat de l’Olivar on a Tuesday morning immediately sees the fractures: at one stall a fishmonger speaks of a good summer, at the next a waitress complains about too many hours and too little prospects in winter. This everyday mix explains why tax debates become emotional. Alomar argued at the time that one euro per night was negligible for holidaymakers; he pointed to studies and to his knowledge of German-speaking guests. The industry’s outrage was directed less at the cent- or euro-amounts than at the principle: should the island be funded from the outside as a rule?

Viewed critically, several open points remain that are often lost in public discourse: Who actually decides what the funds are used for? How is the effect on employment and prices evaluated? And how transparent are the processes for residents who feel the consequences of mass tourism every day?

Missing parts of the debate become visible on closer inspection. There is often a lack of comprehensible accounting that links concrete projects to income and expenditure. There are missing mechanisms to ease seasonal employment problems or to protect smaller businesses from competitive distortions. The question of whether a flat levy is the right form or whether more differentiated models would be more sensible is too rarely examined seriously.

What could a modern approach to the ecotax look like? Concrete approaches: first, transparent usage reports that are accessible online and locally; second, earmarked funds for water, waste and public transport with annual evaluation; third, graduated rates by type of accommodation and season to achieve fairer social effects; fourth, regular round tables with hoteliers, employee representatives, municipal councilors and environmental groups; fifth, pilot projects in small municipalities before changes are formally implemented.

An everyday example: in Cala Major a small carpentry workshop repairs boat masts in the low season and thus provides income in quiet months. If part of the ecotax directly supported such seasonal initiatives, there would be less pressure toward short-time work and layoffs. Such links are possible if politics and business want them.

Alomar joined the then-emerging regional social democracy in 1978 and remained politically active even after leaving parliament in 2007. In 2017 he left the party in protest against a parliamentary decision in Madrid. This stubbornness toward party discipline and at the same time his persistence with the ecotax show a personality that was both principled and combative.

Conclusion: The death of Celestí Alomar is an opportunity to reorder the debate about financing the island. Not to repeat slogans, but to establish concrete rules: more transparency, differentiated instruments and real participation by those who live and work here. On a warm evening, walking from Passeig Mallorca toward Plaça de Cort, you hear the voices of the island — they demand no ideology, but solutions that work in everyday life.

What remains of Alomar? Not only a fiscal-political dispute, but the reminder of an island that must learn to distribute revenues and burdens so that beach, city and neighborhood remain livable tomorrow as well.