The wonderful criminal lawyer Jaime Sanz de Bremond recently told me that Christmas is the date with the most cases of violence, not only gender-based violence but also domestic violence. Apparently there are more rapes and sexual assaults in Año Viejo, but on Christmas Eve the family falls apart and the brothers-in-law try to shove the stick of hard nougat down each other's throats. The news didn't surprise me too much; It occurred to me to do some internet research on the subject and then I lost interest in continuing to make jokes with Nougat. Because there are dozens of entries from all over the world that agree on the same thing: the increase in attacks at Christmas. For example, in the United States today, domestic violence (which includes gender-based violence) is increasing by 20%; in Australia 26%, and in the United Kingdom, calls to the helpline against this type of crime increased by 66% in December 2022 (Source: El Diario NY). It seems to be a consistent pattern in all countries where Christmas is celebrated.
An epidemic of anger and pain under the cheerful ringing of festive bells.
Of course, alcohol has a lot to do with such an attack. As you know, December in Spain is a particularly drunken month, meal after meal and dinner after dinner, a whole hangover season. And for many people, drinking brings out the evil gremlin in them. Not just at Christmas, but always. In fact, it is a clear trigger for gender-based violence: the likelihood of physical aggression is up to eleven times higher if the attacker has drunk alcohol (data published at the National Social Alcohol Conference, Málaga 2019). Drinking one too many drinks can be very unfunny.
But I think that another ingredient influences the excess of violence on Christmas Eve and Christmas, a kind of highly passionate drug, sometimes euphoric, sometimes depressing. I mean the family, the damned and blessed family, that half-cultural, half-animal invention that can destroy us and save our lives. It depends on the moment and luck.
Growing up, I always complained about the Latino family, so diverse and demanding, tight-knit and interdependent. I envied the Anglo-Saxon model, those children who left home so pompously at the age of 17, while I left home at 21 and didn't get married (which was the only thing culturally permitted at the time). But living alone was an emotional struggle that cost us all bitter tears. However, some time later, when I went to teach at a few North American universities, I discovered the enormous loneliness of some of my students who, for example, even if they lived in the family home, had no one waiting for food, but instead had to report and do something alone eat even when their parents were home. And I learned to appreciate our close family bonds, those mothers, fathers and siblings who protected you, but also against whom you fought and became angry, against whom you grew up and defined yourself, while the frightening limitlessness of some Anglo-Saxon adolescents It seemed to me that this could border on psychosis.
It's not easy, family. Some are terrible (for example, dare to read the great book “I Come From This Fear” by Miguel Ángel Oeste), but even the best are full of misunderstandings and fears. But also of generosity and a love that is so essential and intense that sometimes it even hurts. And it turns out that Christmas Eve and Christmas are the apotheosis of this enormous sentimental mess. About the family we have and the ones we don't have. The one we desire and flee from. Even if you are one of those who claim to completely ignore your family and travel to an Arab country at this time in order not to celebrate the holiday, it still seems to me that you are not saved. Furthermore, I would say that the effort you make to walk away shows the extent of the shadow that hangs over you. And these days there is no choice but to face it. To the family or to your idea. On his presence or his absence. And to the pain, gratitude or anger that it all creates. Anyway, to everyone who had an intense, loving and happy Christmas, my congratulations that give new energy for the coming year. And for those who had a Christmas Eve full of holes and shadows, a reassuring hug: Nothing happened! Next year will be better.
Subscribe to continue reading
Read without limits
_