In 1997 Ana Orentes appeared on a Spanish television show to describe decades of vicious abuse by her husband: wild jealousy, beatings and isolation from her friends and family. Two weeks later she was found tied to a chair and burned to death by the man she had denounced. Spain was shocked not only by her murder, but also by the fact that she had called the police many times, to no avail.
and, while passing out medals, Rubiales, the head of the RFEF, Spain’s football federation, grabbed the back of her head, pulled her towards him and planted his mouth on hers. A “peck”, he later said, and consensual.the country still is, say many Spanish feminists. But the uproar can also be taken as an example of just how feminist the country has become.
Political progress is reflected, though unevenly, in society. The press extensively reports on gender violence, and the radio frequently reminds women of the hotline they can call to report it. The streets fill with huge demonstrations on March 8, International Women’s Day. Sexual freedom for women and men is taken for granted. Last year a law banned street harassment, in the country once known for theIsabel Díaz Ayuso has called Rubiales’s behaviour “disgraceful”.
But being locked in a conservative bastion is a good metaphor for the reaction of the Spanish football federation. On August 25 Rubiales gave a speech in which he was widely expected to resign. Instead, he declared his refusal to do so, blaming a “false feminism” for the predicament he was in. The audience that heartily applauded him included the trainers of the women’s and men’s national teams, leading to calls for them to quit too.Spanish sport is not unusually sexist.