The invertebrate Hispanicity

While on Sunday, October 12th, my wife and I were taking a brisk Sunday walk (not a stroll at all) we bumped into several couples wearing Latin American folklore dresses in the streets of Eixample. In front of La Pedrera, two Japanese girls were carrying little Spanish flags they had been given at the stall set up by Vox there. We also saw people wearing traditional clothes. baturra, and a greyhound with a handkerchief where the face of General Franco could be seen. At night, while reading the chronicle by Roger Palós in the ARA newspaper, I understood why there was gauchos on the street: it was a group of dancers who joined, perhaps without knowing where they were standing, the grotesque and ridiculous brawl starring some 1,200 militants of the Spanish far right, according to data from the Guardia Urbana. 127 years of resentment: since 1898. If you haven't already, I wholeheartedly recommend you read Palós' article: you'll laugh your head off, or cry your eyes out.

This whole Hispanic thing has never quite worked out. There are moments of real climax, though. In this regard, I want to evoke poor Pablo Casado.Hispanicity is the most brilliant stage in the history of man. together with the Roman Empire –this ousted PP leader raved in 2018–. What other country can say that a new world was discovered by them, that three ships left Huelva with private capital and managed to change world history forever?"The "private capital" thing is such a ridiculous anachronism that it's acceptable as a big joke. Cultural and linguistic communities such as Hispanidad, the Commonwealth, Francophonie or Lusophonie are international networks that supposedly share a language and history, but differ notably in their structure and objectives. in the case of Hispanidad, while in others, such as the Commonwealth, they have a real entity. Be that as it may, they have emerged from almost always traumatic historical processes related to colonization and decolonization. it was consolidated with the London Declaration of 1949. The members share English as their common language and maintain historical ties with the United Kingdom, to the point that some countries recognize the British monarch as head of state, while others are independent republics. The most politically complex structure has been the television, kitsch that was called 300 million and some meetings of heads of state and government in which nothing is ever decided in executive terms.

It must be said that these types of structures can take unexpected turns. The International Organization of La Francophonie was created in 1970. Despite having a solid institutional structure—with a stable general secretariat, biannual summits, cooperation programs, and I don't know what else—it is experiencing profound decline. Many African countries no longer want anything to do with France: they have openly embraced Russian and Chinese influences. Something similar has happened to the invertebrate and imaginary structure of Hispanic identity in Mexico. The conflict intensified when President Andrés Manuel López Obrador publicly and formally urged Spain to apologize for the abuses committed during the conquest of the Americas. The current president, Claudia Sheinbaum, has also maintained a critical (and firm) stance regarding Spain's colonial past and the idea of Hispanic identity. Venezuela has also done so, but for different reasons.

To understand last Sunday's strange spectacle on Passeig de Gràcia, we must return to the heart of Spanish nationalism, that is, to the trauma of 1898. Where can we locate it? It's very easy: in a few verses of the unofficial (but tolerated) lyrics of the anthem of Franco's Spain. "Glory to the homeland / that knew how to follow / across the blue sea / the path of the Sun". How twisted, right? It was about claiming an imperial past without even mentioning it. Perhaps there was something to hide, some ignominious deed? I don't know. What is clear is that neither Spain, nor Kosovo, nor Bosnia have an anthem with lyrics. Perhaps it's because when there is no truly shared narrative, it's better to remain silent.