Lorraine Williamson
Each year on 12 October, Spain marks a public holiday that traces its origins back more than 500 years. But Spain’s Hispanic Day—Día de la Hispanidad—is far from a simple patriotic celebration. While many see it as a symbol of national pride and a tribute to Spain’s global cultural legacy, others view it as a reminder of the devastating impact of colonialism.
What was once a date to commemorate Christopher Columbus’s arrival in the Americas in 1492 has evolved into a more complex reflection of history, identity, and political narrative in modern Spain.
A date steeped in symbolism
October 12 was chosen for its historical significance and as a bridge between Spain and the Spanish-speaking world. It represents the first contact between Europe and the Americas, triggering a centuries-long period of conquest, evangelisation, and empire-building that shaped the course of global history.
In 1987, the Spanish government officially designated it Día de la Fiesta Nacional, or Spain’s National Day. The intention was to create a unifying holiday—one that didn’t focus on a saint, a monarch, or a military victory, but rather on a shared cultural identity that transcended borders.
But unity has proved elusive.
Celebrations and divisions across the country
In Madrid, the day is marked by a lavish military parade attended by the royal family, government officials, and international guests. Spanish fighter jets roar above the Paseo de la Castellana, trailing red and yellow smoke, while soldiers march in precise formation below. The King presides over the ceremony, paying tribute to Spain’s armed forces.
For many, these displays symbolise Spain’s strength and its bonds with Latin America. Yet the scenes are far from universally embraced.
In Catalonia and the Basque Country, where independence movements remain strong, the holiday is often boycotted or even protested. For them, 12 October represents not unity, but repression—the weight of centralised power, military dominance, and a colonial legacy that still casts a long shadow.
A legacy that still sparks debate
For decades, Hispanic Day has attracted criticism from historians, Indigenous groups, and human rights advocates, both within Spain and abroad. They argue that glorifying the “discovery” of the Americas ignores the brutal realities of conquest: enslavement, cultural erasure, and genocide.
In Latin American countries such as Mexico, Chile, and Peru, the day is increasingly marked as Indigenous Resistance Day, honouring native communities and their resilience in the face of colonisation.
Back in Spain, the debate continues to stir controversy. Some on the political right fiercely defend the holiday as a proud symbol of national identity. Others on the left have called for its rethinking or replacement, arguing that a modern Spain should embrace a more inclusive, honest reckoning with its past.
A changing national conversation
In recent years, the tone of Hispanic Day has slowly begun to shift. Though still a national holiday, there is a growing awareness that celebration must go hand-in-hand with reflection.
Spanish schools are increasingly including discussions of colonialism and its consequences in history lessons. Cultural institutions host events that invite debate, not just commemoration. And among younger generations, there is a clear desire to understand all sides of Spain’s story—including the uncomfortable ones.
Why Hispanic Day still matters
Despite the controversies, Spain’s Hispanic Day continues to hold meaning for many. It’s a day off work, a chance to gather with family, enjoy traditional food, and reconnect with national heritage. For some, it’s a moment to reflect on the global influence of the Spanish language and culture—from literature and art to music and food.
But more than anything, it’s a day that forces Spain to ask itself difficult questions. Who are we now, and how do we reckon with who we once were?
Rethinking the meaning of 12 October
Hispanic Day remains a powerful mirror of Spain itself—diverse, proud, conflicted, and evolving. It invites celebration, yes, but also critique. Because real pride, as many Spaniards are beginning to realise, doesn’t come from hiding the past. It comes from facing it—honestly, openly, and with the courage to grow.