Lorraine Williamson
Each year on 12 October, Spain marks Día de la Hispanidad with military parades, royal appearances, and patriotic speeches. The date, which commemorates Christopher Columbus’s 1492 arrival in the Americas, remains one of Spain’s most polarising celebrations. To some, it symbolises national unity and the birth of a shared Hispanic identity. To others, it represents centuries of colonisation, exploitation, and cultural erasure.
In Madrid, the central parade transforms the Paseo de la Castellana into a spectacle of military precision and national symbolism. The King and Prime Minister attend, alongside dignitaries from across Spain and Latin America. Yet beyond the pomp and ceremony, there is an unease that grows louder each year. Critics argue that celebrating the so-called “discovery” of the Americas glosses over the suffering endured by Indigenous peoples — millions killed, enslaved, or stripped of their cultures in the wake of conquest.
For many across Latin America, October 12 is not a day of celebration but of mourning — a reminder of how European expansion forever changed their lands and lives. In recent years, cities such as Barcelona and Valencia have scaled back official festivities or rebranded the day to emphasise multicultural coexistence rather than conquest.
Protest turns to symbolism in Madrid Museum
That tension erupted once again this year. Two activists from the climate collective Futuro Vegetal entered Madrid’s Naval Museum and doused a painting of Christopher Columbus in red paint. The artwork, Primer Homenaje a Cristóbal Colón (First Tribute to Christopher Columbus) by José Garnelo, depicts the explorer at the height of Spain’s imperial ambition.
The activists’ choice of red paint — biodegradable, according to the group — symbolised the bloodshed of colonisation. They later posted a video on social media declaring that October 12 “marks centuries of oppression, exploitation and genocide” against Indigenous peoples of Abya Yala, the pre-Columbian term for the Americas.
Police arrests and cultural outcry
The protest forced the evacuation of the museum. Both women were detained by staff before being arrested by the National Police, suspected of crimes against cultural heritage. The left side of the painting was damaged, prompting emergency restoration work.
The incident divided public opinion. Some condemned the vandalism as disrespectful to Spain’s artistic heritage, while others saw it as a bold statement that forced society to confront uncomfortable truths long ignored in the national narrative.
Linking colonialism to climate justice
Futuro Vegetal, known for its acts of civil disobedience, campaigns for radical climate action and a transition to plant-based agriculture. In their statement, the group drew a direct line between colonial exploitation and today’s ecological crises. They argue that the same systems that plundered Indigenous lands centuries ago now drive modern environmental destruction.
During the protest, the activists unfurled a banner reading: “October 12, nothing to celebrate. For a just and sustainable world.” Their message was clear: historical injustice and climate injustice are intertwined.
Rethinking what Spain commemorates
The broader question is whether Spain’s Día de la Hispanidad should remain a celebration of discovery and national unity — or evolve into a day of reflection, one that acknowledges the darker chapters of its past.
Historians increasingly call for nuance: recognising the achievements of exploration and cultural exchange, while also confronting the violence and inequality that followed. Some suggest a day of remembrance, similar to how other nations confront colonial legacies through public education and symbolic gestures.
Reconciling pride with the past
Spain stands at a crossroads between pride and penitence. For many, the challenge is not to erase history but to tell it honestly — to celebrate the richness of Hispanic culture without silencing the voices of those who suffered under its expansion. Whether through protest, education or reimagined commemoration, the debate over October 12 is no longer confined to museums or marches. It is a national reckoning that continues to define how Spain sees itself, and how it chooses to remember.
Source: El Español