It begins with a simple observation: across Spain—and much of Europe—the streets, plazas, and churches are named after immigrants, or at least migrant ideas, from the Middle East who arrived two thousand years ago and helped shape what is now called “Christian civilization.” Yet in today’s political climate, migrants from many of the same regions…
Where are the anthems of repression? If reactionary movements claim cultural dominance, mass followings, and moral certainty, one might reasonably expect a soundtrack to match. Where are the rousing MAGA and far-right hymns that people will still be singing in fifty years? Where are the unforgettable choruses celebrating racial division, exclusion, or the romance of…
I just published two versions of the same essay: one in Spanish, from Europe, and one in English, for Canadian and anglophone readers. They’re siblings rather than twins—similar in structure, different in inflection, each shaped by its imagined audience. The piece reflects on Canada, on Mark Carney’s Davos speech, and on that peculiar comfort of…
My brother was named after a cowboy. That detail says a lot about my father, his generation, and the way America once looked from the outside: big, confident, morally certain, the man in the white hat who did ugly things for noble reasons. My dad loved Shane (Raices Profundas), and I grew up with that…
Some wars last years, flatten countries, and leave entire generations trying to remember what normal life used to feel like. And then there was the Whiskey War. Yes — a real territorial dispute between Canada and Denmark, carried out for decades with flags, polite notes, and strategically placed bottles of whisky and schnapps left on…
Why nostalgia for ’the good old days’ can be dangerous — and what’s really behind the revival circus Spain seems to be caught in a weird collective daydream lately — a growing number of young people claiming: “Under Franco, we lived better.” In my latest piece for the Camino de Ítaca column, I dig into…
Here’s the blink-and-you-miss-it summary: my latest Camino a Ítaca column dives into the Groucho-grade absurdity of political morality in Extremadura — a tale of ironclad vows that dissolved in record time, the machinery of hypocrisy grinding everything to paste, and the saints of this land who may be scarred but are no longer innocent. Read…
(English below) Hay eventos que se venden como “fiestas de la cultura”, pero huelen más a cóctel de poder y subvención.En Cáceres montaron una bienal con 650.000 € de dinero público, pantallas gigantes, discursos sobre “la libertad” y, sí, Vargas Llosa elevado a santo laico del neoliberalismo. Lo que faltaba era público.Y verdad. Mi nuevo…
Vivimos tiempos en los que las palabras pesan… pero a menudo se quedan en el aire. Discursos grandilocuentes, frases de manual y declaraciones que parecen diseñadas para acumular likes más que para transformar la realidad. Nos hemos acostumbrado a un ecosistema donde el gesto vale más que el compromiso, y donde lo simbólico termina sustituyendo…
We love to tell ourselves that history bends toward justice. But what happens when those who claim to defend tradition, order, and “the way things are” keep showing up on the wrong side of every struggle for human dignity? From slavery to segregation, from suffragettes to climate justice, from colonial wars to today’s atrocities —…