Free spaces in Lisbon

When we think of free-space communities outside of Amsterdam, we generally think of Berlin or London. Lisbon, however, has a long history of free spaces where its residents socialise, mobilise and express themselves.
Lisbon is known for its beauty, good food, welcoming people and wide cultural diversity. As Amsterdam knows, beauty is both a blessing and a curse. Tourists and expats from all around the world flock to Lisbon, causing rents to spike. This threatens Lisbon’s free spaces, which contribute immensely to the city’s social, cultural and political activities. These spaces offer affordable meals, health advice, workshops, workspaces and cultural activities like concerts, poetry, debates and parties.
This article covers the Lisbon free-space movement and its current fights. It is meant to inform, deepen international solidarity, and inspire in the fight against the liberalisation of our cities.

Lisbon’s free space landscape
Lisbon’s free spaces have their roots in the coletividades: cultural, arts and sports facilities for Lisboetas to meet and express themselves. Some are over 100 years old and have survived the dictatorship; a couple are from the 19th Century. Although these coletividades essentially have anti-capitalist goals, they mainly cater to a more traditional and conservative public. In recent decades, a new type of coletividades, commonly called associations, has sprung up. Mostly centred around culture, basic needs and politics, these spaces receive younger and more outspoken people who fight for social justice, sexual freedom, and the protection of immigrants. In parallel, a growing number of cooperatives shows a desire for community.

During the Portuguese dictatorship (1926-1974), the coletividades were the only place citizens could unite without fear of reprisal. As such, they were paramount in local resistance to oppression. When the dictatorship fell with the Carnation Revolution on April 25, 1974, the anti-capitalist movement strongly influenced the new government. The Periodo Revolutionario em Curso (PREC) was marked by land redistribution, squatting, nationalisation and left-wing policy.

With the end of the PREC in November 1975, squatting has been increasingly repressed, and public opinion is against it. Last year, during the 50th anniversary of the revolution, Okupabril occupied an empty building in Lisbon and created a cultural centre. Six days in, the police violently and illegally evicted them, even though neighbours were generally in favour. Now, the building is empty and unused again.

Still, squatting happens. For example, there are many squats of land, and the municipality is regulating squats of social housing they deem uninhabitable, as the squatters are generally poor families and not openly ideologically motivated.

While squatting is oppressed, landlords and real estate agencies aggressively cement the windows and doors of houses they don’t plan to sell soon. These stay empty for years, driving up the rents in Lisbon. Some are abandoned because of family disputes over ownership, some are owned by real estate agencies. Combined with the influx of tourists and expats, these abandoned houses push up housing prices.

Free spaces operating outside the logic of profit suffer especially from rising rents. One association had to close its doors after seeing its rent go up by a factor of 30. Three initiatives, each with its own strategy, are fighting for their right to exist in Lisbon.

Sirigaita
Sirigaita is a cultural space that houses multiple collectives offering affordable meals and drinks, a cultural agenda, Portuguese classes, a library, and many more initiatives. One day in 2023, Sirigaita received a letter stating their contract wouldn’t be renewed. The landlord, owning 80 Alojamentos Locais (local lodges for tourists), didn’t accept any negotiation. Sirigaita had no place to go, and the municipality refused to help. They decided not to return the keys to the building, resisting eviction since the end of February 2024.

Sirigaita is located close to the Intendente neighbourhood, previously regarded as one of the most precarious areas of the city. This changed when then-mayor António Costa moved his office here in 2011 to incentivise investment. Teresa from Sirigaita explains that “Costa’s move, together with the Lei Cristas (Cristas law) in 2012, which liberalised the housing market and took away almost all protections from tenants, intensified the area’s gentrification.”

In recent years, many free spaces have been closed or exiled to the city’s peripheries, and fancy cafés have opened with tourist-oriented prices. Within a radius of 200m of Sirigaita, four free spaces were evicted in the last decade. Sirigaita is one of the last in the area and therefore their resistance is so important.

“It’s unbelievable how little the municipality cares for its residents and to what extent it protects foreign investors. The coletividades are the living rooms (salas de estar literally means ‘rooms of being’) of Lisbon and bring unmeasurable value to its residents. As we operate outside of the logic of profit, we don’t fit the neoliberal agenda of the municipality,” says Teresa.

“With the campaign não se despeja um desejo (you cannot evict a desire), we are fighting back against our eviction in court and by mobilisation. While the fight against eviction was mostly individual, the municipality could hide behind ignorance. To show how big the problem is, we started coletividades em luta (fighting free spaces). By fighting together, we aim to improve the pressure on the municipality to defend its citizens.” This way, Sirigaita is a space of resistance, uniting free spaces to form a front against the epidemic of gentrification.

Disgraça
Disgraça1 is an anarchist social centre that has been around for almost ten years. It is in a part of town that has not yet been killed by gentrification but is starting to be infected. They recognise that they will soon have to face its symptoms as well. I spoke with two people that are involved with Disgraça about their solution to the problem: collectively buying their space.
“It’s not just that none of us own a house, many of the people involved in the space hardly have a place to live – that’s how bad the situation is here at the moment. The possibility to collectively buy a space where we can convene and organise means we don’t lose it to the violent forces of the market. It’s empowering: we might not have houses, but we’ll have a secured social centre.”

Disgraça is an important space for anarchist movements. Many initiatives in Portugal are born, developed or promoted here. Ensuring the future of Disgraça’s space is thus paramount for the wider movement and spreads hope.

However, Disgraça operates outside of the logic of the market and raising the necessary €275,000 is a challenge. “We signed the contract to buy the space back in September, putting down a deposit of 10%. Now we have until the end of summer 2025 to fundraise the rest. To do this, we’re organising concerts, workshops and benefit events – and calling friends and collectives to organise benefits in their spaces too.”

We also discussed their experiences of movements in other countries. “People in Lisbon are really creative in occupying public spaces and if we look broader it happens across the population. Many public spaces you see people actually fought for and there’s a lot of ways that spaces are occupied, be it for community gardens and protests, or for barbecues and street parties.”

You can help Disgraça buy their space at www.disgraca.com.

Relâmpago
Relâmpago (officially ADR “O Relâmpago”) fights the sale of Lisbon with sports. By bringing the new inhabitants of Lisbon to the traditional coletividades, Relâmpago aims to revive old beauties while partnering diverging realities.

“All these grupos desportivos (sports groups) have beautiful spaces frequented much less than they used to be,” says Vasco Campos from Relâmpago. “We thought we could bring new life to these spaces. People desire community and belonging. Recent waves of immigrants and the younger generation of locals feel unconnected with the more traditional public of the coletividades.” Relâmpago, founded by a group of locals in 2020, started organising football matches “without a competitive edge” at these coletividades. They have grown to an association with 300 active members since.

Many of the traditional public that frequent the grupos desportivos are conservative and right wing. “But I don’t think they are bad; they are frustrated with a failing Left and feelings of isolation in a changing world, which the far-right exploits. Relâmpago puts them in touch with people they have never gotten to know. Slowly, we are gaining their trust, and I imagine they see that the ‘other’ from TV is actually quite similar to them. Of course, the other way around is also true. We notice a deconstruction of the hateful polarisation that is driving current politics.”

However, Vasco says, “we must always be conscious of not taking over a place. We want to be a solution, not another problem for these spaces, which is a fine line. We try to be aware that we are entering people’s safe space with big groups from completely different backgrounds and opposing politics.”

Relâmpago’s greatest event has been the revival of a cycling race up one of Lisbon’s hills. The Rampa was found in the archives by a sports historian from Relâmpago, uncovering a cycling competition held in the 1940s and 50s by the coletividade Mirantense. Interestingly, Mirantense still exists. Where it used to occupy a beautiful building with large ballrooms for dances and theatre, it was evicted to a tiny room next door. Their old space has been abandoned ever since. Mirantense and Relâmpago have been organising the Rampa for four years.

“The race has become like a popular movement. Neighbours volunteer and participate in the contest of the most beautiful façade. Nearby coletividades help out with material and bring participants, and we have a huge party afterwards,” Vasco explains. And, possibly most importantly, the streets are taken back by Lisbon’s residents.

“I do sometimes fear how big Relâmpago has become. Many sections are organising themselves, and we cannot control who joins as we allow anyone to become a member. Besides, different groups are pulling our sleeves to become politically more outspoken. Our goals are essentially anti-capitalist and in defence of the marginalised, and we partner with anyone who can help our goals, regardless of their political positioning. So far, we have navigated everything democratically and without exceptional tension. I hope Relâmpago can continue this journey for as long as possible.”

The views of the interviewees are their own, not necessarily those of their associations.

(1) The name Disgraça refers to the Portuguese word for disgrace and the neighbouring area of Graça, which is almost destroyed by gentrification. Recently, the municipality sold an old monastery in Graça to a real estate agency to build a 5-star hotel, which would mean the final blow to the area. Disgraça supports a locals-led movement against the hotel.