BarcelonaA few years before we entered the 21st century, the free market expanded throughout the world. We call this phenomenon globalization: a historical period in which countries became interconnected like never before, capitalism became the hegemonic economic system, and technology facilitated the strengthening of supraterritorial ties, generating exchanges that had a direct impact, for example, on the industrialization of territories or the use of languages in everyday life. These days I'm wondering: can we now speak of globalization in the past tense?
Let's review this period for a moment. We know for a fact that it has been marked by freedom of movement, which has been both dynamic (the impact of a citizen who moves, who leaves one country and enters another) and static (the impact of a citizen who, without moving, performs actions that have an impact on the world). If we talk about dynamic freedom of movement, we know that migration has always existed, mostly pursuing the goal of finding better living conditions in a place other than the one where we were born. In globalization, this circulation of people has had another derivative, which are movements not made out of necessity or urgency, but rather out of some other kind of interest, will, or enjoyment: global circulations driven by the desire to travel, find work, or invest in other countries, even if you don't have any problems related to the economy or wars in your own country.
Static freedom of movement has to do with the supraterritorial resources we use every day without moving from one place to another. Economic decisions, such as who we buy food or clothes from, where and with whom we invest money, etc.; or technological and cultural decisions. A clear example of this freedom are the actions we carry out through our screens, which have a real impact on the world. In my case, the first alarm bells went off a few years ago, when I looked at the digital habits of those around me and reflected on the use of Catalan on the internet. Languages are the root of any cultural differentiation. If we abandon our language when we open our screens, the impact of that abandonment will not only be felt on the internet, but also in physical reality, in our surroundings, and on future generations. We Catalan speakers speak all the languages we unconsciously speak that are not Catalan only because we understand them to be powerful. And the moment we speak them, they are exerting their power over us. I won't go on too long; I'll just quote the Kikuyu writer from Kenya, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o, which in Decolonizing the mind (Rayo Verde, 2017) said that the colonization of a territory is not only achieved materially, through direct violence, but also mentally, like a drop of Malay in habits such as the use of languages. At another stage in history, the power of the great powers was not called globalization, but imperialism.
In recent months, I have been very interested in the way in which two different sides of the ideological spectrum seem to be betting on non-movement or, rather, on internal movement: on the one hand, the protectionism that we see in the great world powers, such as the United States, China and Russia, what it wants is to ensure the . where countries are strong, have their own technology and do not depend so much on the interests of others. On the other side of the spectrum, however, there is a left (still too much of a minority, for my taste) that sees global diversity in danger and also advocates a protectionist stance toward the cultures of territories that are dissolving beneath the invisible web of the great powers that be. In recent years, anti-colonialist movements have challenged figures such as the tourist, the journalist, the photographer, and the anthropologist, especially if they come from the West. Theorists I deeply respect, such as the anti-colonialist thinker Ariella Aïsha Azoulay, point out that one of the few ways to save a culture is to avoid contact with them, to respect their borders and their heritage. Beyond ideas, reality is very complex.
How will we engage in cultural dialogue without being violent toward one another?
If this is true, and all the changes we are seeing in the world today mark the end of globalization as we have known it until now, and the shift toward self-serving models of countries, my questions are multiple: will we make the same move with cultures as well? Will we finally protect cultural diversity from all the hegemonic powers that have slammed us in the face in recent years through a supposedly innocent global citizenship and vast digitalization? And then, a question that goes a step further: if we stop looking askance at citizens of a territory defending their own culture, if we stop blaming minority cultures for demanding safe spaces, once this is achieved, how will we ensure communication between citizens? How will we take an interest in the world of others without harming them? Will we ever find a beautiful way to approach the specificities of territories, a way that doesn't involve exoticizing, ridiculing, misunderstanding, superiority, or minoritizing them? How can we engage in cultural dialogue without being violent toward one another?
If you've read this far, you should be aware that this column is part of the Ahora Leemos supplement and that, therefore, in reality, all I want, apart from sharing my concerns with you, is to recommend a book. And this book is... The darkness of the heart by Albert Sánchez Piñol (La Campana, 2025). A work I enjoyed because in the end, after questioning the anthropologist's perspective (which could also be the perspective of the global citizen: the tourist, the decolonizing activist, or the digital entrepreneur, each pursuing their own goal), some collective and individual questions arise. On the one hand, what cultural awareness do we have, and at what moments do we believe it's important to demonstrate resistance, defend ourselves, stand up, repeat ad nauseam that we have our own identity? And, on the other hand, as people, when we look at others, are we capable of seeing beyond ourselves? Read The darkness of the heart And keep asking questions, because it seems that the time has come again to question how we should relate to each other.
