Spain’s Bull Run Revolutionizes Safety Measures and Addresses Sexual Assaults Head-On

In a bid to tackle the prevalent issue of sexual assaults, Spain’s renowned bull-running festival in Pamplona has undergone significant changes. Despite the festival’s long-standing association with Ernest Hemingway, recent years have been marked by a shocking incident of sexual violence that rocked the country.

In 2016, during the San Fermin festival, a young woman fell victim to a gang-rape perpetrated by five men known as the “wolf pack.” This appalling case sparked widespread anger and triggered protests against Spain’s sexual assault laws, as initially the men were only convicted of sexual abuse. However, justice prevailed when they were ultimately charged with rape in 2019.

Since then, authorities have painstakingly taken measures to ensure the safety of women, particularly at night, considering the festival’s reputation for round-the-clock revelry.

“At night, you witness an influx of single young men, and respect tends to vanish along with the influence of alcohol. As a result, feeling unsafe at four in the morning is not uncommon,” explains Maite Monreal, a 31-year-old Pamplona local who has been attending the 10-day festival for her entire life.

Her sister, Edurne, aged 29, emphasizes that their concerns extend beyond unwanted groping. She highlights the prevalence of verbal abuse, with individuals disregarding boundaries and operating without rules, even during the festival.

The notorious “wolf pack” case forced authorities in Pamplona to crack down on all forms of sexual assault, both physical and verbal, during the festival. Security has been reinforced, and information points have been established to guide individuals on filing complaints.

“We will not tolerate any form of sexist attack in Pamplona,” affirms the city’s mayor, Cristina Ibarrola, at the outset of this year’s festival.

The regional government of Navarre has embarked on a campaign against sexual assault featuring well-known local figures, such as singer Kutxi Romero, Basque pelota player Unai Laso, and footballer Aimar Oroz.

Maite and Edurne acknowledge that these efforts have yielded positive results. “If you step forward and file a complaint, you will be heard. In the past, your voice would be ignored, and the problem could easily be swept under the rug. But now, with increased visibility, it is dealt with more effectively,” Maite explains.

Despite these advances in addressing sexual assaults, the San Fermin festival now also faces pressure from animal rights activists who decry the treatment of bulls during the festivities.

During the morning bull run, six bulls and six tame bullocks are released onto the streets, with participants either running ahead or alongside the animals until they reach the bullring, where the bulls are ultimately killed in evening bullfights.

At the start of this year’s festival, protesters dressed in red robes and horns filled the main square of Pamplona, demanding an end to the bullfights. This demonstration has become a regular occurrence.

“We need an inclusive dialogue among all the stakeholders of the festival to determine what Sanfermines should become in the future,” insists Iván Pastor, a member of Iruñea Antitaurina, a local anti-bullfighting organization.

“Our objective is solely to prohibit the cruel traditions,” he asserts.

Public opinion polls in Spain reflect an increase in opposition to bullfighting, and the controversial practice has already been banned in certain regions, including Catalonia and the Canary Islands.

However, Iván Pastor does not anticipate the same outcome in Pamplona anytime soon. Unlike other cities, he notes that many individuals attend Pamplona’s bullfights for the festive atmosphere rather than the spectacle.

“Bullfighting will come to an end when the bullring is empty, but currently, it sees full attendance every day during the festival,” he concludes.