Cross-border investigation into the role of fossil fuel companies in the green transition in Spain and Italy.
Cristina Gironès is an independent journalist focusing on international affairs, gender, conflicts, and disinformation. She has worked as a Central Europe correspondent for Diari Ara, and her work has been published in Público, El País, Wired, EU Observer, and Newtral, among others.
Francesca Polizzi is a freelance journalist based in Rome and specialiding in gender issues and the climate crisis. She contributes to Domani, the Green European Journal, and L’Espresso, among others.
Nuri Fatolahzadeh is an Italian-Iranian independent reporter based in Lombardy. Her work focuses on civil rights, conflicts, the climate crisis, migration, and international affairs, with special insights into Iran. She has worked for TPI, Giornale di Brescia, and Irpi Media, among others.
Teresa Di Mauro is an Italian independent journalist who mainly covers the South Caucasus, gender issues, migration, and the climate crisis. She has collaborated with RAI, Radio Télévision Suisse, Internazionale, Meduza and L’Espresso, among others.
Cross-posted from the Green European Journal
In Ca’ Solaro, a small hamlet near Favaro Veneto in northeastern Italy, the news arrived quietly. No flyers, no public meetings – just a sign that suddenly appeared, bearing the words “European funds”. The company behind the project – Lightsource Renewable Energy Italy Development Srl, which is linked to British Petroleum (BP) through its renewable energy arm, Lightsource BP – had already begun the process of installing a large-scale solar farm on land previously used for agriculture.
A similar scene played out in the province of Rovigo, a small city one hour’s drive to the south of Favaro Veneto, where Marco Polo Solar 2, a subsidiary of Shell, received approval for a photovoltaic installation spread across 50 hectares of farmland. “We woke up one morning to find out our land would no longer be ours,” recalls Luca Pollazzon, an activist who, alongside other residents of this small town near Venice, helped form a grassroots committee to protect fertile land that has been cultivated for generations.
“This isn’t just about an energy project. It’s about democracy,” Pollazzon insists, citing the Aarhus Convention, ratified by Italy in 2001, which guarantees the right of citizens to be informed and involved in decisions affecting the environment. Yet today, Pollazzon claims, that right is being systematically circumvented.
This is not just an Italian phenomenon. One day, residents of Vall del Corb, in Catalonia, began to see archaeologists, cartographers, and other technicians conducting studies on their land. “People from outside the area started digging into the soil; we found strangers on our land without our permission,” recalls Marc Corbella, a farmer from Passanant. The village is one of the areas most affected by the proposed BCN Solar photovoltaic mega-project, promoted by the investment fund Green Tie Capital, which Shell acquired in 2022. In this small municipality of just 200 inhabitants, the project would occupy 403 hectares of cultivable land, making it the largest solar development ever proposed in Catalonia.
Although Catalan law – specifically Decree 16/2019, which reflects the participatory principles of the Aarhus Convention – requires citizen involvement in such projects, Corbella argues that the process is often superficial. “They organised a public meeting and spoke about local investment opportunities, but the companies already had their financing secured. It was just a formality to improve public perception.”
In the participatory vacuum left by public institutions, citizens are coming together to reclaim agency over their land. In Ca’ Solaro, the local group that Pollazzon is a member of launched a petition and requested access to official documents related to both the buying and selling of the fields, and the approved project. In Catalonia, the activist platform SOS Vall del Corb has filed formal objections to the environmental impact assessment of Shell’s proposed mega-project, citing threats to farmland, food sovereignty, and the risk of turning the valley into a “sacrifice zone.” Meanwhile, in the Anoia region of Catalonia, local groups have launched legal actions to stop the Matacan, Escribano, and Aspillera photovoltaic projects, all of which are promoted by the multinational company Ignis. Together, these three projects would occupy 180 hectares of agricultural land. “We’ve been waiting for months to access complete reports on these large-scale developments – and we’re still waiting,” saysMartí Senserrich, a spokesperson for the association.
Vanni Destro, spokesperson of the Network of Polesine committees in defence of health and the environment, says Italy has the same lack of transparency. In his view, this is not just a bureaucratic issue, but a deliberate strategy. “In many cases, everything is kept under wraps until the legal time frame to appeal the decisions in an administrative court has passed. It’s a tactic to avoid accountability.”
This, he argues, undermines both environmental goals and democratic values. “It’s counterproductive for the energy transition and it weakens civic engagement. This is how democracy dissolves – by reinforcing the idea that the smaller you are, the less you matter.” Destro believes that those who are currently benefiting most from the energy transition are “financial institutions, foreign investment funds, and banks.”
This systemic opacity obscures responsibility and concentrates power.
A profit-driven transition
Between 2022 and early 2023, Shell announced plans to develop multiple solar projects in Italy and Spain as part of its strategy to expand renewable energy capacity in southern Europe, citing the acquisition of developers like Green Tie Capital in Spain and the construction of the 20-megawatt Zamboni Solar Park in Italy. Similarly, Lightsource BP secured permits for several large-scale solar projects across both countries. These efforts aligned with a broader trend among major fossil fuel companies aiming to expand their presence in Europe’s renewable energy sector, especially in southern markets where land costs are relatively low and permitting processes are often more streamlined.
To carry out these developments, companies like Shell and BP often operate through intermediary firms. Typically these are limited liability companies with minimum share capital, sometimes as low as €500, and no operational history. These entities are used to acquire land, manage the permitting process, and launch development, only to transfer the projects later to major operators.
“Large companies,” explains lawyer Antonio Rimera, “often make use of this procedure. Formally, it is permitted by law and not illegal – at least at first glance. But the real issue arises when you evaluate the overall impact: taken together, these operations can create monopolies, concentrating all interests in a single centre.” These small, purpose-built companies, Rimera notes, are often designed to shield real ownership and allow for opaque transactions.
Using this approach, large corporations delegate the administrative tasks to smaller companies, engaging with them through preliminary agreements or rights of first refusal (a contractual right that gives its holder priority to enter a business transaction). This strategy has been used by major players such as Shell and BP to secure access to renewable projects with minimal upfront investment.
According to Josep Nualart Corpas, energy researcher at ODG Catalonia and member of the Catalan Network for Energy Sovereignty, this growing presence of fossil fuel giants in the renewable sector should be treated with caution. “Big oil and fossil gas companies are not truly committed to shifting energy production towards renewables or to deeply transforming the energy system,” he explains. “Their interest surged when public funds became available. If fossil fuel projects continue to benefit from historical financial and tax advantages, these companies will step back from renewables or pursue only the most profitable ones.”
Indeed, many of these large-scale solar and wind projects are driven by economic logic rather than public interest. “The energy transition is being used to retain power within the existing energy system,” Nualart Corpas continues. “These corporations promote flagship renewable projects, but their main focus remains on false solutions – like hydrogen and biogas – that maintain centralised control and profitability.”
In fact, by late 2023 and early 2024, Shell had begun to scale back its renewable energy investments, including solar and offshore wind, and has since revised its climate targets. As reported by Reuters, the company scrapped its 2035 net-zero goal and softened its 2030 emissions reduction plan, citing uncertainty in energy markets and sustained global demand for gas. BP and Equinor, Norway’s national energy company, have similarly slowed their investments in renewables under pressure to prioritise short-term shareholder returns.
“It isn’t surprising to see oil and gas majors retreating to their core business,” says Robert Rozansky, project manager for the Europe Gas Tracker at Global Energy Monitor, “but ultimately it may prove a strategic mistake.” The Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Affairs (IEEFA), showed that gas consumption is already falling across the EU, with countries surpassing their demand reduction targets. And according to Ember, an energy think tank, solar power overtook coal in electricity generation last year. For Rozansky, this is “evidence that the energy landscape is shifting faster than many fossil fuel players are willing to admit.”
“Fossil fuel giants like BP operate under a profit-driven model aimed at increasing energy demand,” adds the UK-based collectiveWe Smell Gas. “Even in the shift to renewables, they strive to keep production costs low to maximise returns. The result is a transition that risks replicating the very extractive dynamics of the fossil economy – fueling energy insecurity, exacerbating ecological crises, and extending dependency on energy exports from formerly or currently colonised regions.”
According to Marco Grasso, professor of economic and political geography at the University of Milano-Bicocca, “These strategies show the same model used in fossil fuel development: centralised, top-down, and with little or no local participation. They are often built in unsuitable locations, driven purely by profit.”
This logic is clearly visible on the ground. In Spain’s Vall del Corb, the BCN Solar project was originally advanced by two shell companies: Pasos Agigantados SL and El Viaje Comienza Aquí SL. Both were limited liability firms with just 3,000 euros in capital, shared the same legal representative, and were registered at the same address. These entities belonged to a wider corporate network controlled by the investment fund Green Tie Capital.
“The strategy of dividing projects aims to reduce oversight and speed up approval processes,” explains Laura Brotó of the citizen platform SOS Vall del Corb. “Developers submit multiple smaller proposals to bypass stricter environmental scrutiny, even though the cumulative impact is much greater. While such practices are technically illegal according to Spanish law 21/2013, from what we have seen with this project and others throughout the region are quite common.”
Green Tie Capital and Ignis didn’t reply to requests for comments.
Lack of coordination
Neither Italy nor Spain has so far implemented binding national regulations that prioritise the use of industrial brownfields or rooftops for renewable energy. Nor do comprehensive territorial plans exist to guide the placement of large-scale solar projects.
Yet according to Italy’s latest ISPRA report (2024), the country could meet its photovoltaic targets without consuming additional agricultural land by maximising the use of existing rooftops, parking areas, and already built or degraded land. “In theory, up to 92 GW of photovoltaic systems could be installed on existing buildings,” the report states. “By utilising the available rooftops, there would be room for between 70 and 92 GW of solar capacity – more than enough to meet the targets set for 2030.”
In Italy, delays by regional governments in designating “suitable areas” for renewable energy installations have opened the door to industrial-scale developments without proper oversight. Despite EU directives requiring territorial planning, the process is progressing unevenly across the country: regions like Veneto, Lazio, Sardinia, Campania, Calabria, Puglia, and Sicily are moving at different speeds and have yet to complete the necessary mapping. This legal and administrative vacuum – exacerbated by overlapping responsibilities between local and national authorities – has enabled companies to push forward massive projects on farmland with minimal resistance.
Spain faces a similar lack of coordination. The national energy strategy is outlined in the PNIEC (Integrated National Energy and Climate Plan), but territorial planning largely falls under the jurisdiction of regional administrations. In Catalonia, where the controversial BCN Solar project is planned, a Territorial Plan for Renewable Energies (PLATER) was supposed to provide guidance – but it has yet to be approved.
The price of land in the green economy
In this regulatory vacuum, fertile agricultural land – often the cheapest option – has become a prime target. Ecologistes de Catalunya (GEPEC-EdC), an environmental organisation, warns that this energy transition model is leading to the permanent loss of farmland in a region already among the lowest in Europe in terms of arable land per capita. In municipalities like Passanant i and Belltall in Spain, these developments threaten to eliminate up to 20 per cent of agricultural land – economically degrading rural areas and further accelerating depopulation.
“Energy investors are like diviners – they’re extraordinarily skilled,” says Paolo Pileri, professor of environmental spatial planning at the Politecnico di Milano. “They pinpoint the areas where agriculture is already struggling – fragmented plots, weak farming economies – and swoop in like vultures to snatch the land.” He adds that these companies often target small-scale farms, “the very ones that should be protected because they’re the ones taking care of the land.”
In parts of Sicily and Veneto, energy companies are offering landowners thousands of euros for pre-emption contracts on their fields. For people facing challenges related to rising farming costs and who are struggling to make ends meet, these offers are hard to refuse. Renting out 26 hectares could earn them more than 84,000 euros per year, while selling just 19 hectares could earn 380,000 euros.
According to Coldiretti, one of Italy’s main farmers’ associations, this “energy land grab” has already removed millions of square meters of agricultural land from production in just two years across Southern Europe – a trend expected to accelerate.
Giuseppe, a farmer from the province of Rovigo, is one of the few who turned down such an offer: “They offered me nearly half a million euros for all my land. But I kept planting beets and corn. I work this land with my son. If I give in – if we all give in – there will be nothing left here.”
Lucia, a livestock farmer from the Polesine region, also declined. “They talk about agrivoltaics, about coexisting with solar panels. But have you ever seen a flock graze between solar arrays? It’s just an excuse. They want our hectares, not our agriculture.” Both farmers requested that their surnames be omitted to avoid any potential repercussions.
Across Spain – especially in depopulated areas where land is cheaper and community resistance is weaker – rural regions are becoming prime targets for this new land rush. Joaquima Marsal, a resident of Sant Martí de Tous in Anoia in Catalonia, , was contacted by the energy company Ignis, which is planning multiple solar farms in the area. “They called me and offered to install solar panels on my land for 30 years. I wasn’t interested. These fields are a treasure to me.” When she declined their first offers – 1000 euros, then 2000 euros per hectare per year – the pressure mounted. “They even said they would call my husband to see if they could convince him,” Marsal recalls.
To secure land, developers offer sums well above typical agricultural returns. “With wheat, in a good year, you’re lucky to make €250 net per hectare,” explains Corbella, who also refused to lease his land. “It’s easy to understand landowners who accept. If you’re 65 and your children aren’t interested in continuing the farm, it’s like an extra retirement fund.”
Still, he warns of long-term consequences. “They say if we run short on wheat, we’ll just buy it from Ukraine or the US. But we’re gambling away our self-sufficiency.”
A fair transition
This wave of land acquisitions – driven by profit and facilitated by regulatory gaps – raises a fundamental question: if the energy transition replicates the same dynamics of exploitation characterising the fossil economy, can it effect real change?
In Vall del Corb, some are trying to bring about a different green transition – one that centres people and the commons. The local cooperative WATT del Corb is working to install rooftop solar panels for shared community use. “Energy self-sufficiency is crucial,” says Guillem Figueras from the grassroots group SOS Vall del Corb. “This model works. It’s small and slow, but it puts power back in people’s hands.” The massive blackout that hit Spain and Portugal in April 2025 served as a reminder of the fragility of centralised energy infrastructure. For rural communities like Vall del Corb, this episode underlines the pressing need to build local, resilient alternatives.
These efforts are not isolated. Across Europe, a constellation of community energy projects is emerging in resistance to top-down, extractive models of green development. They offer a different conception of power, one that redistributes agency and decision-making to those most affected by energy policies.
But despite their promise, these grassroots models face significant structural barriers. Access to financing remains a key obstacle: while corporate players benefit from subsidies, lobbying power, and streamlined approvals, small cooperatives must navigate complex bureaucracies with limited resources.
As the Spanish umbrella group Ecologistes en Acció argue, “The transition can’t be built on the same logic of extraction and profit.” Many of today’s renewable projects are driven not by energy experts or communities, but by investment funds – planned and sold with little regard for local needs.
This investigation was made possible thanks to the support of Journalismfund.
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