Portuguese forest policy operates in a state of deliberate paralysis. Since the 2017 Pedrógão Grande tragedy, successive governments have passed increasingly strict laws on forest management while systematically failing to enforce them. The statutory requirement to clear vegetation within 50 metres of homes goes unenforced in roughly 99% of cases. Municipalities lack the political will to either inspect compliance or issue the fines that law allows—because enforcing forest management against your constituents costs votes.
The data undermines every convenient scapegoat. Eucalyptus accounts for only 17% of burned area, while 60% is abandoned scrubland. The aviation industry contracts are structured as fixed-cost retainers regardless of fire activity, eliminating any economic incentive to cause fires. The real culprit is absence: absence of land registry clarity (many municipalities don't know who owns their forests), absence of enforcement capacity, and absence of political courage. Government investment has tripled since 2017—from €140m to €638m annually—yet spending on infrastructure and equipment masks a strategic void. Tactical firefighting teams, trained to reduce fuel and cut firebreaks rather than spray water at infernos, remain undersourced. Water-only strategies fail catastrophically at scale; one researcher calculated 3,000 aerial sorties would be needed for a single Serra do Caldeirão fire.
The contrast with border regions is instructive. Mexican farmers use controlled burns to manage pasture and fuel loads; California abandoned agriculture for tech, leaving accumulated combustibles to explode into uncontrollable blazes. Portugal has proven controlled burns work—a CIM-Viseu operation in the Curral Range left treated zones green while surrounding forest burned—yet most municipalities lack dedicated teams or political backing to replicate it. The solution sits in plain sight: treat forest management as essential infrastructure like roads or police, fund it centrally, and execute it locally. Instead, governments manufacture villains (eucalyptus, aviation companies, arsonists) while the actual failure—ordered neglect of the landscape—remains conveniently diffuse.