'It's really ugly': anger and anxiety

over sexual violence at the

Pamplona bull run
Spain
The San Fermín festival has been marred by reports of harassment and assault – and the city is
determined to tackle the sexual inequality behind it

People protest against the surge in sexual attacks at the city’s annual bull-running festival, in which 11
allegations of sexual assault were reported. Photograph: Alvaro Barrientos/AP

High above the shops peddling red neckerchiefs, tourist tat and seductive deals
on alcohol, above the bobbing, sometimes throbbing, heads of visitors and
locals, the walls and balconies of Pamplona betray a voluble, angry mood.

Between the Basque flags and the potted plants, banners spell out variations on
the theme that has once again overshadowed the Spanish town’s annual bull-
running festival: “No sexual harassment!”; “Assault is not flirting. Be careful!”;
“No sexist assaults”; “Enjoy yourselves and let others enjoy themselves”.

What the city council refers to as the “black stain” of sexual assault and
harassment appears to have permeated this year’s San Fermín fiesta more
thoroughly than ever before. Police in Pamplona have arrested 16 men over the
last few days as they investigate reports of five violent sexual attacks – including
a rape and an attempted rape – and 11 allegations of sexual assault.

The apparent surge comes in a dark week for supporters of Spain’s taurine
culture. Last Saturday, Víctor Barrio, a 29-year-old torero, was fatally gored by a
bull, becoming the first professional bullfighter to die in the ring since 1985. Not
only did his death prompt renewed calls for a total ban on bullfighting, it also
provoked outpourings of spite and rejoicing on social media that threatened to
drown out the grieving voices.

The sexual attacks have been ferociously condemned by Pamplona’s council,

which has spent the past few years trying to stamp out the assaults. It has also
brought the people of Pamplona out on to the streets twice since 7 July to show
their disgust at the behaviour that is tarnishing the image of the San Fermín,
which dates back to the 16th century.

The attacks, however, don’t seem to have discouraged those looking to run with
the bulls, trot after the listing spectre of Ernest Hemingway or drink in the
atmosphere.

On Wednesday, the narrow, cobbled streets of Pamplona’s old town were

clumped with thousands of people, almost all of them in the obligatory white
with red sashes at their waists and a knotted red scarf around their necks. Some
drank, some danced, and some posed for pictures by the barricades that offer
people protection from the bulls. Around them beetled rubbish trucks and
council workers were trying to hose away the detritus of the morning’s mayhem.

Garbiñe, Leire and Lara, three 25-year-old friends from San Sebastián, said the
assaults hadn’t put them off returning to this year’s festival. “I think there are
always attacks but we just don’t find out about them; it’s just coming out more,”
said Garbiñe. “But there’s groping – and then there’s the girl who was raped.”

Leire said she wasn’t overly worried – “these things happen everywhere” – but
the trio were still planning to stick together at all times and had decided to
arrive during the day rather than at night.

Others were more anxious. Analía Solís and Daysi Sangurima, who were selling
drinks and sandwiches in the old town, both felt threatened after at least two
intimidating recent incidents.

This year’s festival, said Solís, was the worst she could remember since coming
to Pamplona from Ecuador as a child. “I just don’t go out after everything that’s
happened,” said the 19-year-old waitress. “There literally aren’t enough police.
You can be out in the street for three hours and you’ll only see two policemen. If
you’re nice to someone then they’re all over you, touching your arse.”

If she hadn’t been much of a festival person before, added Solís, she was even
less of one now.

Sangurima, 18, said that while she only went out in the company of her friends,
she still felt scared whenever a man got too close. “There are too many drunk
people here and too many people trying to get you to go with them,” she said.
“They’re so drunk that they don’t understand you don’t want to go with them.
It’s really ugly.”

One of those tasked with protecting festivalgoers is Aritz Romeo, city councillor
for public safety. He acknowledged that the attacks had again been a black mark
on the festivities but insisted the council had been working hard in recent years
to raise awareness of sexual assaults and was operating a zero-tolerance
approach. The need for a concerted response became obvious eight years ago
after a young nurse was strangled and beaten to death during the festival.

Besides the 3,400 police officers patrolling the streets and the team monitoring
100 CCTV cameras from a control centre, there had also been a longstanding
campaign run with local women’s rights groups to make it clear that sexual
violence had no place in society, Romeo said.

“Pamplona is an open, plural, free city,” he said. “San Fermín is a spontaneous

and inclusive festival: the city will treat you like another of its people. But people
also need to understand that they need to treat the city as it treats them.”

He pointed to the two big demonstrations as proof of the city’s commitment to

equality and safety, and added that none of the suspects arrested were from
Pamplona.

The council has also been using its website to provide up-to-date information on
attacks and arrests in the interests of transparency and in the hope of
encouraging people to report crimes. This year’s spike in numbers, Romeo
suggested, could be down to more people coming forward to report attacks to
the police.

He said that while drugs and alcohol were factors in some of the attacks, they
could never be viewed as excuses; the problem went far deeper than the San
Fermín or Pamplona.

“I think the reasons are basically cultural; they’re rooted in the false belief that
men are superior to women and that women are there to satisfy them. It’s a
sexist and patriarchal culture. We in the council are not in favour of that culture
and that’s why we believe that while the police response is important, so is
raising awareness to prevent it. Inequality between people is at the root of it all.”

That said, he added, Pamplona had a simple message for anyone who thought
the festival would provide hedonistic cover from criminal behaviour: “If you
break the law in Pamplona, you will pay for it. We’re working to tell people that
if you touch a woman’s backside, you’ll wind up in a police cell.”