On bus 14 in Madrid, which was traveling along the Paseo del Prado and the Recoletos neighborhood this Sunday evening, a boy was insistently asking his mother if they could get up early today to go see the military parade. He asked her after seeing that all the chairs, barriers, and platforms were already in place. "We are not going, I don't like military parades," the mother said, and the boy tactically turned to his father to see if he could reverse the decision. It is not known if he succeeded, but this Monday, October 12th, Hispanic Day, there were indeed many families in the center of Madrid as spectators of the Spanish national holiday, presided over by the monarchs. The ritual was as follows, the same as every year: arrival of the members of the monarchy, military honors, and a performance by the Air Force. Then, the turn of the Army, with the legion's goat. In total, about 4,400 members of the armed forces, security forces, and other civil institutions participated.

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.

In 1892, 400 years after Christopher Columbus set foot in America, it was the first time that 12 October was marked on the calendar as Spain's national holiday. The choice was consolidated with the restoration of democracy, after during Franco's regime this holiday had been put on the back burner because the regime had promoted the date of 18 July. The decree law of 1987 justified the 12 October choice due to the fact that it "symbolises the historical event" in which Spain "begins a period of linguistic and cultural projection beyond the European borders". The colonisation of the American continent marked a before and after in the history of humanity but, like all historical events, it has its lights and shadows.

Historical events are always complex, and the context of the time and its cultural values must be taken into account in order to understand them from today's perspective. Even so, there are values and contexts that have no justification today and, therefore, are a stain on the countries that were the protagonists of events that today may seem reprehensible to us. No one can now accept, for example, slavery or the Inquisition. The same happens with the colonising processes of the 19th century, which in part continue to affect some continents, especially Africa, and, of course, with the "conquest" or colonisation of America by the Spanish Empire – and others. These in large part meant the extinction and deculturation of the original populations, either by systematic and violent persecution, or the diseases they brought, which killed millions of people.