Here Lies Catholic Spain

For centuries, Spain has been a bastion of Catholicism. From the Reconquista to the second half of the 20th century, including the evangelization of the Americas, the Catholic Church has shaped the country's history, culture, and customs. To the point that being Spanish meant, almost by definition, being Catholic, as the Holy Week processions in Andalusia still attest.

Yet, this visceral bond between nation and faith seems to be crumbling today, here as elsewhere, swept away by the winds of a modernity that is redrawing the contours of Spanish identity. Archbishop Argüello, in his inaugural address, made this bitter observation. Addressing the assembled bishops, the prelate spoke of a "growing secularization" that is alienating new generations from the Church. The figures speak for themselves.

According to data from the Center for Sociological Research (CIS), less than 20% of Spaniards attend Mass regularly, and a majority of the population now declares themselves "non-practicing" or "without religion." While Spain remains, on paper, a country where more than 90% of the population is baptized Catholic, this affiliation is increasingly a formal tradition, devoid of spiritual meaning.

How can this disaffection be explained? The political transition, initiated after the death of General Francesco Franco in 1975, marked a decisive turning point. Until then, the Church had been a pillar of society, enjoying a privileged status and omnipresent influence.

But the 1978 Constitution, by enshrining the secular nature of the state—approved and even encouraged by a Catholic hierarchy still intoxicated by the liberal illusions of Vatican II—paved the way for a gradual separation between the temporal and the spiritual. The societal reforms that followed—legalization of divorce, same-sex marriage, abortion—were often perceived as affronts to Catholic doctrine, widening a gap between the Church and a society eager for new freedoms.

Add to this the impact of globalization and the digital revolution, and the cup is full: young Spaniards, connected to the world, are more inspired by the secular models of Northern Europe or the United States than by the traditions of their ancestors. Faced with this observation, the current head of the Episcopal Conference seems to be preparing minds for a reorganization of the parish structure capable of ensuring the survival of Catholicism.

"It has never been possible to be a Christian alone," he insisted, emphasizing the importance of building communities capable of transmitting the faith in a skeptical world. For the Archbishop, the challenge is to offer an "integral formation of the heart," which combines spirituality, charity, and social commitment, in order to restore the Church's relevance in a changing society.

It is an ambition that faces concrete challenges, because while Catholic charities like Caritas play a crucial role in helping the most deprived, they are not immune to certain abuses: "We run the risk that our organizations, so dependent on support by the state, its rules, and its subsidies, offer only a weakened version of Christian love and are mistaken for bureaucratic NGOs," points out the Archbishop of Valladolid.

Another burning issue for the EEC: the controversy surrounding the "resignification" of the Valley of the Fallen, a gigantic memorial erected under Franco. This site, where thousands of victims of the civil war are buried, has become a point of tension between those who uphold historical memory and those who see it as a relic of an authoritarian past. The Church, which manages the site through the Benedictine abbey founded on the site, finds itself at the heart of the debate.

During the bishops' plenary assembly, protesters held up placards denouncing the current Archbishop of Madrid—Cardinal José Cobo, a progressive figure—accusing him of betraying the memory of the Francoist "martyrs" by supporting a process of "resignification"—or rather, rewriting of history—initiated by the far-left coalition in power.

"We must be bridges, not walls," responded Archbishop Argüello, careful not to venture too far on a topic as hot as a summer sky in Spain.