We Were “Witches” Fighting Bulls

THE bulls were enormous. Each must have weighed half a ton. My two sisters and I usually fought against young bulls, but these were full-grown beasts, with fearsome horns. We could have refused to fight them, of course, but how would the crowd react to that? They had paid their entrance fee to see Las Meigas (The Witches) fight bulls, and we did not want to let them down. We marched hesitantly into the bullring.

You may be wondering what three sisters were doing fighting bulls. Well, it certainly wasn’t to show that women are just as good as men at this profession. It was sheer economic necessity that propelled us into this macho world.

As teenagers, we left our hometown in northwest Spain and headed for Madrid, where we hoped to find work. But when nothing turned up, we took the advice of a friend who had been a torero and decided to “try our luck with the bulls.” We called ourselves Las Meigas (The Witches) because that was a name that easily identified our place of origin in Spain and also because we hoped to bewitch the bulls. After just two years of tough apprenticeship, we became bullfighters in earnest.

Dangers and Death

We usually fought the younger two- or three-year-old bulls, which are not quite as fierce and powerful. But that does not mean that the danger is eliminated, for they tend to be quicker and more agile. We were fortunate, however, and apart from a broken ankle, some nasty scrapes, and a leg wound, we escaped serious injury. Even on the occasion when we faced those huge adult bulls, we left the ring unscathed.

During the bullfighting season, we would often fight four bulls in the morning and four more in the afternoon. Eventually, we could kill a bull almost as easily as we could make our bed. In fact, during a period of eight years, we fought and killed 1,500 bulls in bullrings throughout Spain, as well as in Portugal and France. Our goal was to get a contract for South America, where we could earn really big money, enough to buy a ranch and raise fighting bulls.

Although it was the need to make ends meet that got us started, before long the desire for adventure, fame, and fortune became the main motivation. Despite the danger, we enjoyed it! True, every now and then, we would hear news of the death of a bullfighter, and this affected us for a few days, grimly reminding us of the risks involved. But we soon got over this temporary anxiety. As we entered the bullring, instead of wishing one another good luck, we would say: “On with the battle!”

A Different Kind of Fight

Then, in 1984, something happened that made my sisters, Milagros and Elda, and me reassess our goals and, indeed, our livelihood. All three of us started to study the Bible with Jehovah’s Witnesses. We were thrilled with what we learned about God’s Kingdom and about the future Paradise that God has promised. But then came a difficult decision. Did our work harmonize with what we were learning?

Finally, two things convinced us that we could not continue our career as bullfighters. First of all, we observed the atmosphere at the bullring. The fanaticism of the crowd smacked of that at a Roman circus. Was it an appropriate environment for Christian women?

The second problem had to do with divine protection. Almost all bullfighters, being Catholics, seek protection from their favorite Madonna or “saint.” I have even seen some set up a portable shrine in their hotel room to pray, trusting that this will save them from injury in the bullring. However, we realized that we couldn’t ask Jehovah to protect us when we were deliberately being cruel to animals and putting our lives in danger in order to earn money and excite the crowd. We decided to quit bullfighting.

No sooner had we made this decision than the long-awaited South American contract materialized. A chance to earn a fortune was within our grasp. But we were adamant in our choice, and on October 3, 1985, we made our last appearance as “The Witches.” About a year later, we were baptized, and we now exert ourselves ‘fighting the fine fight of the faith.’​—1 Timothy 6:12.

We still work together but in a restaurant rather than a bullring. We are so happy to have found something better than fame and fortune​—a good relationship with the almighty God and a sure hope for the future. We look forward to the time when we will be able to caress wild bulls in God’s new world, where neither man nor animal will “do any harm or cause any ruin . . . because the earth will certainly be filled with the knowledge of Jehovah as the waters are covering the very sea.” (Isaiah 11:9)​—As told by Pilar Vila Cao.

Bullfighting​—Art or Outrage?

By Awake! correspondent in Spain

LUCIO was just 19 when it happened. It was springtime in Seville, and the famous Maestranza bullring was full. But Lucio was a shade too close when the bull thundered by. A savage horn gouged out his right eye.

When he left the hospital, he practiced his cape work unrelentingly for three months. Despite the loss of an eye, he was unwilling to renounce his lifelong dream. At the end of the summer, he returned to fight in the bullring of Seville and was carried in triumph from the arena. “It was a gamble,” he admitted, “but that’s the way it is in bullfighting.”

The dramatic figure of the bullfighter has inspired composers, writers, and filmmakers. Perhaps because of this, millions of tourists feel that a visit to Spain or Mexico would be incomplete if it did not include attending a bullfight.

But the tourists are by no means the only ones who fill the bullrings. Famous matadors attract thousands of knowledgeable local fans to the monumental bullrings of Madrid, Seville, and Mexico City. To the aficionado a great matador is an artist, comparable to Goya or Picasso, an artist who scorns death in order to create beauty in motion.

But not all Spaniards have bullfighting in their blood. In a recent poll, 60 percent indicated that they have little or no interest in it. Several groups in Spain have begun to campaign against this “national fiesta,” claiming that “torture is neither art nor culture.”

Ancient Tradition

Fascinating to some, repulsive to others, the pitting of a man against a bull is an ancient tradition. Mediterranean peoples have long respected the indomitable spirit of the wild bull. Pharaohs of Egypt hunted them on foot, while princes and princesses of Crete defied a charging bull by somersaulting over its horns.

During the first millennium of our Common Era, Roman and Muslim domination left their mark on what was to become a traditional Spanish spectacle. Decaying Roman amphitheaters were converted into bullrings, which still bear some resemblance to the Roman circus. Bull-lancing from horseback was introduced by the Moors and is now incorporated in the ceremony.

But it wasn’t until the 18th century that the bullfight began to resemble the present-day spectacle. It was then that the actual bullfighting passed from the aristocracy to professional subordinates. Around this time Goya designed a distinctive professional uniform, known today as a traje de luces, “suit of lights,” because of its rich gold and silver embroidery. Attention was also focused on obtaining suitable bulls.

A Different Kind of Bull

The truly wild bull disappeared from its last stronghold in the woods of Central Europe in the 17th century. But for the last three hundred years, the Spanish wild bull has survived because of the selective breeding of fighting bulls. The main difference between a wild bull and a domesticated bull is the way it reacts when threatened. The savage Iberian bull will continually attack whatever or whoever moves in front of him.

The bullfight hinges on this characteristic, one that the Spanish stock raisers constantly try to improve. For four years the bulls are pampered until that fateful moment when they find themselves rudely propelled into the arena. Before entering the arena, the bull has never seen a matador or a cape​—if he had, he would remember the techniques and he would be too dangerous. But he instinctively charges that moving cloth, be it red or any other color (bulls are color-blind). In about 20 minutes, it is all over; a lifeless, thousand-pound [450 kg] carcass is dragged out of the ring.

The Stages of a Bullfight

In the colorful opening ceremony, all the participants, including the three matadors, their assistants, and the picadors, parade around the arena. Each matador has been assigned two bulls and fights them individually in the course of his two fights. Throughout the fights a band accompanies the action with stirring traditional music, while bugle calls announce the commencement of each of the three tercios, or acts, of the drama.

The first stage begins after the matador has made several preliminary passes with a large cape, provoking the bull. The picador enters the ring on horseback, carrying a steel-tipped lance. The bull is provoked into charging the horse, whose flanks are protected by padded armor. The picador fends off the attack with his lance, cutting into the bull’s neck and shoulder muscles. This weakens the neck muscles, forcing the bull to lower his head when charging, which is especially important for the final kill. (See picture above.) After two more attacks, the mounted picador leaves the ring, and the second tercio of the fight begins.

This stage involves the matador’s aides, the banderilleros, whose role is to thrust two or three pairs of banderillas, short shafts with steel barbs, into the bull’s shoulders. The banderillero captures the bull’s attention by shouts and gestures from a distance of some 20 or 30 yards [20-30 m]. As the bull charges, the banderillero runs toward it, swerving aside at the very last moment while planting two barbs in the bull’s shoulders.

In the final part of the fight, the matador faces the bull​—alone. This crucial point in the fight is called the moment of truth. Now the matador uses a muleta, a scarlet serge or flannel cloth, to deceive the animal. He keeps close to the bull, provoking the animal into desperate charges but controlling it with the muleta as the bull comes ever closer to his body. It has been said that this stage of the fight “is not really a struggle between a man and a bull but rather the struggle of a man with himself: how close will he dare to let the horns come, how far will he go to please the crowd?”

When the matador has demonstrated his mastery over the now frustrated bull, he prepares for the kill. This is the climactic moment of the fight. The matador makes sure that the bull is standing in the ideal position for the kill, with its front feet together. Then he moves toward the bull, reaches over the horns, and plunges his sword between the shoulders while trying to avoid any sudden thrust of the horns. Ideally, the sword severs the aorta and causes almost instant death. This seldom happens. Most bulls require several attempts.

Even in their dying moments, bulls can be lethal. Five years ago a popular 21-year-old matador known as Yiyo turned away after delivering the coup de grace. The bull rallied, however, and one of its horns punctured the heart of the hapless bullfighter.

Shaving and Dying

To many the bullfight is a colorful and exciting spectacle. But it has more than one ugly side to it. One enthusiast remarked that “in this miserable racket the only honorable figure is the bull, and him they mutilate by shaving down the tips of his horns so that he has difficulty in locating his target.”a

The management of bullfighting is notoriously corrupt, leading one matador to comment ironically that he didn’t fear the bulls “half as much as . . . [he did] the men who manage the bullrings.” Although top matadors can earn millions of dollars, the competition is fierce, and injury and death are constant dangers. Of the approximately 125 eminent matadors in the last 250 years, more than 40 have died in the arena. Most matadors are gored at least once, to a greater or lesser extent, during each bullfighting season.

The Christian Viewpoint

After considering the foregoing, how should a Christian view bullfighting? The apostle Paul explained that the fundamental principle of showing kindness to animals was still valid for Christians. He quoted the Mosaic Law, which specifically required the Israelite farmer to treat his bull with consideration. (1 Corinthians 9:9, 10) The bullfight can hardly be described as a humane way of treating the bull. True, bullfighting is considered by some to be an art, but does that justify the ritual killing of a noble animal?

Another principle that has to be considered is the sanctity of life. Should a Christian deliberately place his life in danger just to demonstrate his machismo or to excite the crowd? Jesus refused to put God to the test by unnecessarily endangering his life.​—Matthew 4:5-7.

Ernest Hemingway wrote in Death in the Afternoon: “I suppose, from a modern moral point of view, that is, a Christian point of view, the whole bullfight is indefensible; there is certainly much cruelty, there is always danger, either sought or unlooked for, and there is always death.”

Of the thousands who go to watch a bullfight, some are delighted, some are disappointed, and others are disgusted. Regardless of how it may be viewed by men, the Creator of the bull cannot look at this spectacle with pleasure. Although regarded by many as an art, it is really an outrage against divine principles.​—Deuteronomy 25:4; Proverbs 12:10.

[Footnotes]

[Pictures on page 18]

The picador on horseback cuts into the bull’s neck and shoulder muscles with a lance, weakening them

A matador about to thrust his sword into the bull