Lorraine Williamson
For years, official ties between Spain and Mexico stood frozen by history. Accusations over colonial injustices, calls for an apology, and political silence formed a diplomatic stalemate. Yet while politicians hesitated, artists, writers, and museums quietly kept talking to each other. Through this cultural dialogue—not politics—the ice has finally begun to melt.
Long before ministers returned to the negotiating table, Spanish and Mexican institutions continued to collaborate. Exhibitions, film festivals, museum loans and academic partnerships preserved a bridge across the Atlantic when political ties were strained. This year, that cultural connection moved centre stage.
Madrid became the symbolic heart of reconciliation when the Instituto Cervantes unveiled a major exhibition celebrating the role of Indigenous women in Mexico’s past and present. More than 400 artefacts and contemporary works were displayed across the Museo Arqueológico Nacional, Casa de México, the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum and the Cervantes Institute itself. The project was born at the 2024 Guadalajara International Book Fair and evolved into a shared cultural gesture of respect and cooperation.
A historic acknowledgement
At the exhibition’s opening, Spanish Foreign Minister José Manuel Albares publicly recognised the “pain and injustice” suffered by Indigenous peoples during the Conquest. Though not an official royal apology, his words marked the first time a Spanish government representative acknowledged such harm in this way.
At the opening, Foreign Minister José Manuel Albares went beyond protocol. In a message later shared on X, he wrote that the exhibition “goes beyond art.” He said Spain was “proud to recover the voice and importance of Mexico’s Indigenous women,” and that doing so brings Spaniards “closer to the Mexican people, whom we carry in our hearts.” His words echoed the sentiment in the room — that culture can reconnect where politics once divided.
“It is right to recognise and regret that,” he said. For many Mexicans, this signalled a long-awaited shift. President Claudia Sheinbaum called it “a first step toward reconciliation”, while also insisting that acknowledging history strengthens rather than weakens international friendship.
Why relations cooled in the first place
The freeze began in 2019 when then-president Andrés Manuel López Obrador formally asked King Felipe VI and Pope Francis to apologise for the violence of the Spanish conquest of Mexico. Madrid rejected the request, describing it as a distorted interpretation of history. The silence that followed hardened perceptions in Mexico that Spain dismissed its colonial trauma.
Sheinbaum, who succeeded López Obrador, continued the demand for recognition but paired it with a commitment to cultural dialogue. In her book Diary of a Historic Transition, she recalled how the lack of response in 2019 deepened mistrust, yet stressed that ties were never fully broken thanks to economic, academic and artistic connections.
The power and controversy of memory
Not everyone in Spain welcomed Albares’s statement. Conservative commentators accused the government of apologising for history that cannot be judged by modern standards. Yet among cultural and diplomatic circles, the gesture was considered overdue. For historians and artists, confronting the past is essential to building an honest future.
Mexico’s rich Indigenous heritage—once suppressed under colonial rule—is now travelling across Spanish museums not only as art, but as a moral reminder of resilience, survival and identity. The Spanish government, by supporting such displays, is acknowledging that culture can address wounds that treaties and speeches cannot heal alone.
No royal apology
Both nations appear ready to deepen cooperation in culture, education and migration. The awarding of the Princesa de Asturias Arts Prize to Mexican photographer Graciela Iturbide, and the Concord Prize to Mexico’s National Museum of Anthropology underline a renewed era of mutual recognition.
There has been no royal apology. But there is dialogue, and for the first time in seven years, movement. In the galleries of Madrid rather than the corridors of parliament, culture is doing what politics could not—healing a fragile friendship between Spain and Mexico, one exhibition at a time.