Jennifer Ho on Religion and the Oft-Mentioned Notion of the Two Spains
By: Jennifer Ho
February 20, 2009
Upon arriving in Madrid, I was welcomed with a two-week long orientation, which included among other things, a brief tutorial about modern Spain.
As with the countless other Georgetown students who have studied abroad in Madrid, I learned about the two Spains, that of the right, and that of the left. The first Spain is aligned with the monarchy, with an official state religion (Catholicism), and backed by the bourgeoisie, while the second Spain is supported by freedom of religion and sociopolitical liberalism. This is the conflict between Aznar and Zapatero; this is the conflict that is repeatedly mentioned, supported by statistics and sociopolitical analysis; this is the conflict I wish to explore firsthand.
Now, I would gladly admit to anybody that I am the world's lamest tourist I live for offbeat attractions, and I have made it a personal quest to visit every single museum, park, church, and plaza in Madrid while I am here. As a result, visiting the Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales, or the Monastery of the Barefoot Royals, was a must. The monastery was originally the royal palace of Carlos I of Spain in the sixteenth century, and his daughter, Juana de Austria, converted the building into a monastery for the Order of St. Claire. Interestingly, the sisters of the convent were originally of aristocratic backgrounds, who brought their dowries as well as priceless pieces of art, tapestries, tiles, and relics to the cultural enrichment of the site. In fact, Juana de Austria and several members of the Spanish royal family are actually interred within the monastery.
The tour was fascinating, and the artwork was breathtaking, so imagine my surprise when, upon exiting the building, I ended up at the entrance of the Corte Inglés, the infamous chain department store which holds a monopoly with an iron grip in the city of Madrid. Across the street from what had been one of the most mysterious buildings in the city was a monstrous seven story megamall which sold electronics, shoes, clothes, purses, travel equipment, and anything else the heart might desire. Literally, on two sides of the street was the Spain of the right, with the austere stone building which held priceless remnants of Spain's religious past, and the Spain of the left, characterized by its desire to modernize and accede to the oft-propagated liberal ideals of the Western world.
Yet, while the popularity of Corte Inglés grows and grows, drawing Madrileños and tourists alike, the renown of the Monastery of the Barefoot Royals appears to be fading slowly into the background. This is suggested, first, by commercial advertisements. For instance, at least half of the metro station platforms in Madrid contain a Corte Inglés advertisement which spans the height and width of the platform; green, pink, and yellow polka dots scream "Sales!" from every station. At the same time, there are no advertisements which recommend visits to the historic monastery or any of the famous churches in the city. In fact, such churches have become sites valued for their art and architecture, as opposed to places of worship. Furthermore, the monastery is a relatively small, gray, stone building which blends elusively into the surrounding edifices, whereas the towering Corte appears to be at least three times its size.
The stark contrast between the Corte Inglés and the Monastery of the Barefoot Royals lucidly illustrates what I had learned in my modern Spain tutorial, another piece of evidence among thousands of the rapidly liberalizing Spanish society. And yet, is religion truly dying in Spain? I am hesitant to answer this question because coming in the next few months are Semana Santa, or Holy Week (famous for its processions throughout Spain); the Feast Day of San Isidro, patron saint of Madrid; not to mention that I'll be in Valencia in March to witness the celebration of the Falles, a week-long celebration of the life of San José. The number of practicing Catholics seems to be diminishing, and yet, the significance of these holidays continues to grow. The sociocultural climate of Madrid is certainly a peculiar one, and yet, these nuances can only be teased out in my second letter, after I have spent more time both witnessing and participating in Madrids religious traditions.
Now, I would gladly admit to anybody that I am the world's lamest tourist I live for offbeat attractions, and I have made it a personal quest to visit every single museum, park, church, and plaza in Madrid while I am here. As a result, visiting the Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales, or the Monastery of the Barefoot Royals, was a must. The monastery was originally the royal palace of Carlos I of Spain in the sixteenth century, and his daughter, Juana de Austria, converted the building into a monastery for the Order of St. Claire. Interestingly, the sisters of the convent were originally of aristocratic backgrounds, who brought their dowries as well as priceless pieces of art, tapestries, tiles, and relics to the cultural enrichment of the site. In fact, Juana de Austria and several members of the Spanish royal family are actually interred within the monastery.
The tour was fascinating, and the artwork was breathtaking, so imagine my surprise when, upon exiting the building, I ended up at the entrance of the Corte Inglés, the infamous chain department store which holds a monopoly with an iron grip in the city of Madrid. Across the street from what had been one of the most mysterious buildings in the city was a monstrous seven story megamall which sold electronics, shoes, clothes, purses, travel equipment, and anything else the heart might desire. Literally, on two sides of the street was the Spain of the right, with the austere stone building which held priceless remnants of Spain's religious past, and the Spain of the left, characterized by its desire to modernize and accede to the oft-propagated liberal ideals of the Western world.
Yet, while the popularity of Corte Inglés grows and grows, drawing Madrileños and tourists alike, the renown of the Monastery of the Barefoot Royals appears to be fading slowly into the background. This is suggested, first, by commercial advertisements. For instance, at least half of the metro station platforms in Madrid contain a Corte Inglés advertisement which spans the height and width of the platform; green, pink, and yellow polka dots scream "Sales!" from every station. At the same time, there are no advertisements which recommend visits to the historic monastery or any of the famous churches in the city. In fact, such churches have become sites valued for their art and architecture, as opposed to places of worship. Furthermore, the monastery is a relatively small, gray, stone building which blends elusively into the surrounding edifices, whereas the towering Corte appears to be at least three times its size.
The stark contrast between the Corte Inglés and the Monastery of the Barefoot Royals lucidly illustrates what I had learned in my modern Spain tutorial, another piece of evidence among thousands of the rapidly liberalizing Spanish society. And yet, is religion truly dying in Spain? I am hesitant to answer this question because coming in the next few months are Semana Santa, or Holy Week (famous for its processions throughout Spain); the Feast Day of San Isidro, patron saint of Madrid; not to mention that I'll be in Valencia in March to witness the celebration of the Falles, a week-long celebration of the life of San José. The number of practicing Catholics seems to be diminishing, and yet, the significance of these holidays continues to grow. The sociocultural climate of Madrid is certainly a peculiar one, and yet, these nuances can only be teased out in my second letter, after I have spent more time both witnessing and participating in Madrids religious traditions.
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