Spain's Housing Crisis: Protesters Point to 'Vulture Funds' as Rents Soar and an Election Looms

Hundreds of demonstrators have been camping out in Madrid's Puerta del Sol square for a week, turning one of the Spanish capital's most emblematic public spaces into a focal point for growing anger over the country's housing crisis. Among them is Pierina Nicuray, a 21-year-old university graduate, who says she has no doubt about what has driven the problem. In her view, the root cause is straightforward: there are simply not enough homes available. She also argues that landlords are exploiting the shortage to push rents higher, and points to short-term tourist rentals such as Airbnb as an additional aggravating factor.

Her assessment is echoed by Jorge Moreno, a 19-year-old student of film dubbing who has also been sleeping in a tent in the square. Moreno contends that large numbers of properties are sitting empty because they have been acquired by so-called "vulture funds" and investment funds, which then raise rents for existing tenants until they leave. Living with his mother, he fears it will be years before he can afford a home of his own. He describes housing as having been turned into a business—one that he characterises as abusive because it prevents ordinary Spaniards from securing a decent place to live.

These arguments are not confined to the protest encampment. They are voiced frequently by fellow demonstrators, by members of the public, and even by the Spanish government itself. Socialist Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, presenting a recent package of emergency measures aimed at tackling the housing problem, said he was legislating "against those who consider housing just another object on the market with which to speculate." His reforms were rejected by Congress, a defeat that prompted him to call a snap election for next month, ensuring that housing will be a central issue in the campaign.

The protesters have a powerful symbol for their cause: the case of Maricarmen Abascal, an 87-year-old woman who was evicted from her home after the investment firm that had bought the property tried to persuade her to leave and then sharply increased her rent, which she could not pay. The social backlash that followed led the company to invite Abascal to return to her old home, but she never did. She died in hospital on Wednesday, and protesters at Puerta del Sol have been paying tribute to her.

Beyond the square, many others have their own accounts of struggling with a rental market that has become increasingly unaffordable. Carmen Pérez, a retired widow originally from Ecuador who has lived in Spain for 17 years, recalls that when she first arrived, housing was relatively cheap and accessible. As costs have climbed, she has been forced to move in with her daughter and son-in-law while she searches for somewhere affordable to rent. She describes long waiting lists whenever a property is listed and rents that are always beyond her means. The situation, she says, has affected her health—she suffers from depression and lacks any sense of stability or security.

The scale of the price surge helps explain why housing has become Spaniards' biggest concern. According to the property outlet Idealista, average rental costs in Spain have risen by 84% over the past decade. In the centre of the southern city of Málaga, the increase has reached 113%, while in Marbella it stands at just under 150%. Such figures have fuelled public demand for action against those perceived to be the powerful players driving the market.

A recent study by the Centre for Sociological Research (CIS) found that the wider Spanish population shares many of the protesters' priorities. Some 72% of respondents wanted higher taxes introduced for owners of 10 or more properties; 76% supported limits on short-term tourist accommodation; and 40% backed the expropriation of empty homes. The findings suggest that discontent over housing extends well beyond the activists camped out in Madrid.

However, not all experts agree with the protesters' diagnosis. Jorge Galindo, director at the Esade centre for economic policy, cautions that available data makes it difficult to determine precisely how many Spanish properties are owned by so-called "vulture funds" and used for speculation. He cites Bank of Spain figures from 2024 showing that only 8% of properties for rent are owned by companies. From the data available, Galindo concludes that there is no notable accumulation of rental property among a small number of owners in Spain. In his view, such ownership is not the main driver of rising rents.

Instead, Galindo argues that the shortage of supply relative to demand in recent years is what explains the increase. The Bank of Spain appears to share this assessment, estimating that the country has a housing shortfall of around 750,000 homes. The institution's deputy governor, Soledad Núñez, warned in September that this gap could grow to one million by 2028, underscoring the structural nature of the problem.

Spain does have a substantial stock of empty properties—3.8 million, according to the National Statistics Institute (INE). But a large proportion of those are located in depopulated rural areas and therefore have little bearing on the current crisis, which is most acute in urban centres. Other reasons for the high number of vacant homes include properties awaiting renovation and legal disputes among family members who have inherited them.

Demographic shifts are also playing a major part in the imbalance between supply and demand. Between 2021 and 2025, Spain added about 1.2 million new households, a trend driven in significant part by the arrival of migrants, who have played a major role in shaping the country's housing needs. As the snap election approaches, the competing explanations—speculation by investment funds versus a structural shortage of homes—are likely to remain at the heart of a fierce political debate over how to make housing affordable again.