Spain Abolishes National Bullfighting Award in Cultural Shift

Spanish bullfighter Juan Ortega fights the 528kg bull 'Vivaracho' bull during a bullfight in the Plaza Monumental of Aguascalientes, in Aguascalientes, Mexico, 28 April 2024.  EPA/Tadeo Alcina
Spanish bullfighter Juan Ortega fights the 528kg bull 'Vivaracho' bull during a bullfight in the Plaza Monumental of Aguascalientes, in Aguascalientes, Mexico, 28 April 2024. EPA/Tadeo Alcina
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Spain Abolishes National Bullfighting Award in Cultural Shift

Spanish bullfighter Juan Ortega fights the 528kg bull 'Vivaracho' bull during a bullfight in the Plaza Monumental of Aguascalientes, in Aguascalientes, Mexico, 28 April 2024.  EPA/Tadeo Alcina
Spanish bullfighter Juan Ortega fights the 528kg bull 'Vivaracho' bull during a bullfight in the Plaza Monumental of Aguascalientes, in Aguascalientes, Mexico, 28 April 2024. EPA/Tadeo Alcina

Spain scrapped an annual bullfighting award on Friday, prompting a rebuke from conservatives over a backlash against a centuries-old tradition they see as an art form but which has run into growing concern for animal welfare.
Spanish-style bullfighting, in which the animal usually ends up killed by a sword thrust by a matador in shining garb, is for supporters a cultural tradition to be preserved, while critics call it a cruel ritual with no place in modern society, Reuters reported.
The Culture Ministry said it based its decision to abolish the award on the "new social and cultural reality in Spain" where worries about animal welfare have risen while attendance at most bullrings has declined.
"I think that's the feeling of a majority of Spaniards who can understand less and less why animal torture is practiced in our country..., and much less why that torture gets awarded with public money," Culture Minister Ernest Urtasun said on X.
The national award came in the form of a 30,000-euro ($32,217) government check and has been bestowed on famous bullfighters such as Julian Lopez, known as "El Juli", or cultural associations related to the bullfighting tradition.
It has recently become a defining issue in Spain's culture wars, pitting left-wing parties such as Sumar, to which Urtasun belongs, against right-wing conservatives who support the tradition.
Borja Semper, spokesperson for the opposition conservative People's Party, told reporters the government move showed that it "does not believe in cultural diversity or liberty", and that his party would reinstate the award whenever it regained power.
The PP leader of the Aragon region, Jorge Azcon, said it would introduce another award. "Tradition should be something that unites us rather than divides," he said.
Opposition to bullfighting has also grown in Latin America, where the tradition was exported in the 16th century, and in southern France, where it spread in the 19th century.
In Spain, the average bullfighting aficionado has gotten older and the number of bullfighting festivals dropped by a third between 2010 and 2023.



Ancient Myanmar Ball Game Battles for Survival in Troubled Nation 

This photo taken on May 8, 2025 show a man weaving cane into a chinlone ball, used in the ancient Myanmar game considered a blend between sport and art, at a workshop in Hinthada township in the Irrawaddy delta region. (AFP)
This photo taken on May 8, 2025 show a man weaving cane into a chinlone ball, used in the ancient Myanmar game considered a blend between sport and art, at a workshop in Hinthada township in the Irrawaddy delta region. (AFP)
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Ancient Myanmar Ball Game Battles for Survival in Troubled Nation 

This photo taken on May 8, 2025 show a man weaving cane into a chinlone ball, used in the ancient Myanmar game considered a blend between sport and art, at a workshop in Hinthada township in the Irrawaddy delta region. (AFP)
This photo taken on May 8, 2025 show a man weaving cane into a chinlone ball, used in the ancient Myanmar game considered a blend between sport and art, at a workshop in Hinthada township in the Irrawaddy delta region. (AFP)

Mastering control of the rising and falling rattan chinlone ball teaches patience, says a veteran of the traditional Myanmar sport -- a quality dearly needed in the long-suffering nation.

"Once you get into playing the game, you forget everything," says 74-year-old Win Tint.

"You concentrate only on your touch and you concentrate only on your style."

Chinlone is Myanmar's national game and dates back centuries. Branded a blend of sport and art, it is often played to music and is typically practiced differently by men and women.

Male teams in skimpy shorts stand in a circle using stylized strokes of their feet, knees and heads to pass the ball in a game of "keepy-uppy", with a scoring system impenetrable to outsiders.

Women play solo like circus performers -- kicking the ball tens of thousands of times per session while walking tightropes, twirling umbrellas and perching on chairs balanced atop bottles.

Teen prodigy Phyu Sin Phyo hones her skills at the court in Yangon, toe-bouncing a burning ball while spinning a hula-hoop -- also on fire.

"I play even when I am sick," says the 16-year-old. "It is important to be patient to become a good chinlone player."

But play has plunged in recent years, with the Covid-19 pandemic followed by the 2021 military coup and subsequent civil war.

Poverty rates are shooting up and craftsmen face increasing problems sourcing materials to make balls.

But the rising and falling rhythm of the game offers its practitioners a respite.

"When you hear the sound of kicking the ball it's like music," Win Tint, vice-chairman of the Myanmar Chinlone Federation, told AFP.

"So when you play chinlone, you feel like dancing."

- 'Play day is happy' -

Different versions of the hands-free sport known as "caneball" are widely played across Southeast Asia.

In Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia players kick and head the ball over a net in the volleyball-style "sepak takraw".

In Laos it is known as "kataw" while Filipinos play "sipa" -- meaning kick.

In China, people kicking around weighted shuttlecocks in parks is a common sight.

Myanmar's iteration dates back 1,500 years, according to popular belief.

Some cite a French archaeologist's discovery of a replica silver chinlone ball at a pagoda built in the Pyu era of 200 BC to 900 AD.

It was initially practiced as a casual pastime, a fitness activity and for royal entertainment.

But in 1953 the game was given rules and a scoring system, as part of an effort to codify Myanmar's national culture after independence from Britain.

"No one else will preserve Myanmar's traditional heritage unless the Myanmar people do it," said player Min Naing, 42.

Despite the conflict, players still gather under motorway overpasses, around street lamps blighted with wartime blackouts and on dedicated chinlone courts -- often ramshackle open-sided metal sheds with concrete floors.

"For a chinlone man, the day he plays is always a happy day. I am happy, and I sleep well at night," says Min Naing.

"On the days I don't play it, I feel I am missing something."

- 'Respect the chinlone' -

But Win Tint is concerned that participation rates are falling.

"I worry about this sport disappearing," says master chinlone ball maker Pe Thein, toiling in a sweltering workshop in Hinthada, 110 kilometers (70 miles) northwest of Yangon.

"That's the reason we are passing it on through our handiwork."

Cross-legged men shave cane into strips, curve them with a hand crank and deftly weave them into a melon-sized ball with pentagonal holes, boiled in a vat of water to seal its strength.

"We check our chinlone's quality as if we're checking diamonds or gemstones," adds the 64-year-old Pe Thein.

"As we respect the chinlone, it respects us back."

Each ball takes around two hours to make and earns business-owner Maung Kaw $2.40 apiece.

But supplies of the best-quality rattan he covets from nearby Rakhine are dwindling.

There is fierce fighting in the state between the military and opposition groups that now control almost all of it.

Farmers are too fearful to plunge into the jungle battleground to cut cane, says Maung Kaw, endangering his profession.

"It should not be that we have players but no chinlone makers," says the 72-year-old.

"I want to work as well as I can for as long as I can."