Catholicism is in steep decline in Spain.
Recent figures from the Centre for Sociological Research indicate that only 19 per cent of the population are practising Catholics, compared with 56 per cent in 1979. Eighty per cent of marriages are conducted as civil ceremonies rather than church weddings, and almost half of young people have turned their backs on religion altogether.
But some deeply rooted traditions endure. This year, like many in the past, Spain’s belenistas are gearing up to play a central role in the Christmases of millions of Spaniards. Their craft, making Nativity scenes or belenes (Bethlehems), remains as present in Spanish homes, shops and businesses as the Christmas tree is in Britain.
A few creative exhibits have earned national renown; Gran Canaria’s belén made from tonnes of sand and the town of Xàtiva’s life-size scene spread over 1,600 square metres, including live animals. Most belenistas, though, have a fixation closer to that of model train hobbyists, curating hyper-detailed miniature dioramas of biblical Bethlehem.
Gran Canaria’s belén
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Not only can these feature tiny figurines of everyone from baby Jesus to the local butcher, but they often come complete with technically advanced scenography such as streams with running water and LED lighting cycles that pass through sunrise and sunset.
“It goes beyond religion,” explains Gonzalo Mateu Carbonell, president of the Valencian Association of Belenistas, one of 78 official societies that form a national federation comprising about 4,500 members. “Belenismo has a religious basis, but it has become part of our culture.”
While there are common elements, Nativity scenes vary widely across the country
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He is speaking from Valencia’s city hall where they are assembling this year’s scene tailor-made for the council: a model of 45 square metres with figures as small as 7cm that has been transported in 12 sections and worked on since February. It’s a Nativity scene, but set in a distinctly lush natural landscape; a nod to Valencia’s recognition as the 2024 European Green Capital. “We always do something very connected to our land,” he says.
Adding local nuances is common practice. Catalonian manger scenes will usually feature the caganer, a toilet humour character thought to bring good fortune, while Mary might wear a flamenco dress in Andalusia and espadrilles in the Basque country. It’s a far cry from the realism of the first Nativity scene, performed by St Francis of Assisi 801 years ago in an Italian cave. Over time, live imitations morphed into model representations and became a strong Neapolitan tradition before being popularised on the Iberian peninsula by Charles III of Spain, a devout Catholic.
A Christmas caganer statue
A scene in the town of Teguise on Lanzarote
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Mateu Carbonell says: “It’s a form of folk religion, so we are not in contact with the church. We’ve actually noticed an increase in the number of exhibitions in public places. I have members who are atheists.
“When I look at a belén, I don’t look at whether it has exclusive figurines or ones bought at the supermarket. I look at the expression, at who is behind it.”
Mateu Carbonell’s society has had a tougher year than usual.
A baby Jesus depicted in Santuario de Sant Salvador on Mallorca
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When devastating floods hit the region on October 29, its warehouse wall collapsed and caused irreparable damage to a number of Nativity scenes, while another was washed away. This Christmas, the models that it was able to salvage will have white roses placed at the feet of the mangers as a tribute to the more than 230 victims of the catastrophe — and the belenistas have made other last-minute additions too.
“We want to honour all those volunteers who have helped us,” he says. “There will be a belén with brooms and shovels.”