When speaking to former students about what to expect from my semester abroad in Spain, many told me that I would need to begin reading El Pais, a Spanish newspaper, because Spaniards are extremely politically informed and enjoy discussing politics. Unfortunately, my distaste for politics made this difficult. Don’t get me wrong, I think political discussions are entirely fruitful and teach us about the role of civic society, personal duty, and national history on a level far beyond my comprehension. Yet, most political “discussions” often turn into debates, which make me uneasy. However, when I found out I would be taking two classes at a satellite campus called Somosaguas, in the Political Science and Sociology department (political atmosphere: liberal), I knew I was in for a surprise.
The first day of class, I knew I was in for a ride when I embarked on a hallway filled with cigarette smoke, dreadlocks, and signs with phrases like “abortion is a right,” “against all authority,” and “fighting is the only way.” Knowing I would spend 10 hours a week for the next five months here, I decided it was finally time to learn about politics. The following weeks, I began to learn pieces of the Spanish political history, ranging from the Spanish Civil War to Franco’s dictatorship. Walking into my "Anthropology of Religion" class that Wednesday, I was waiting for class to start when a classmate barged in and proclaimed, “A Christian anti-abortion association is here to talk trash to us; Profesora Cornejo is downstairs watching!” Within seconds, half of my class rushed downstairs to watch the spectacle, and with everything I had learned thus far about Spanish politics, I knew it was time to follow the crowd and finally see it in action.
Downstairs, the anti-abortion association was passing out pamphlets regarding the Christian belief on abortion (to reiterate, political atmosphere here: liberal). One could presume their presence was not entirely welcome, but what made a classmate the angriest, she commented during our class discussion later, was the propaganda they brought. “It’s like an insult to us. You think you can come onto our campus and impose your ideas like that? We will not accept that and speak up at the least!” The rest of the class followed in rage, and even the professor later stated her agreement with the students, adding that her personal versus professional reaction kept her from fighting the association. I didn’t understand. In the United States, some of my best friends were Republicans, and although I didn’t necessarily agree with them, I wholeheartedly believed they had the right to free speech in an open discourse without the fear of getting physically assaulted. Soon, another international student vocalized what I was thinking at the moment, mentioning that she didn’t think violence was an appropriate response to the issue. One boy, fed up with the foreigner’s vision of an idealistic peace between opposing political parties, stood up. “They didn’t come here to talk about their ideas. They brought pamphlets, and they came to the Political Science department, for God’s sake. They had the intention of fighting us; we just followed through, and you can’t say we are wrong for reacting that way.”
Sure you can, I thought, but didn’t dare say it in that politically perturbed environment. This incident helped me reflect on my ethnocentric perception of political ideology and its representation in social life today, and it wasn’t until I fully understood this notion that I could relate to the boy’s perspective. Political fervor is not a specific attitude held, or even simply a value system, but it does reflect a person’s attitude and values regarding his or her environment. Spanish history has necessitated an increased critique of its current political structure, whereas the American political system was founded on an equal and corrected form of European-defined terms like liberty and freedom. This change in attitude helped me learn not only how to analyze politics here in Spain, but also in America. The importance of politics is indeed held in the United States, but a lack thereof does not threaten a citizen’s right to pursue his or her beliefs in society, while the same cannot be said for Spain. It remains to be decided which one I believe is better, but what I can affirm is that politics is indeed art in a sense—a form of expression that can’t always be expressed.
Noreen Sajwani graduated from the School of Nursing and Health Studies class of 2015 with a major in healthcare management and policy and minors in Spanish and theology. At the Berkley Center she was a student fellow in the 2014-2015 Doyle Undergraduate Fellows program and Junior Year Abroad Network participant in the 2014 spring semester.
