A History of Galicia

• Introduction
• Chapter 1 The First Galicians: Megalithic Culture and Castro Forts
• Chapter 2 Gallaecia: The Roman Conquest and Influence
• Chapter 3 The Suebic Kingdom of Galicia: A Germanic Stronghold
• Chapter 4 Integration into the Visigothic Kingdom
• Chapter 5 The Moors in Galicia: A Fleeting Presence
• Chapter 6 The Rise of the Kingdom of Galicia in the Middle Ages
• Chapter 7 The Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela: A Spiritual Superhighway
• Chapter 8 Feudalism and the Power of the Galician Nobility
• Chapter 9 The Irmandiño Revolts: A Peasant Uprising
• Chapter 10 The Catholic Monarchs and the Domestication of Galicia
• Chapter 11 Galicia in the Age of Discovery: Emigration and Maritime Trade
• Chapter 12 The Golden Age of Galician Literature: The ‘Rexurdimento’
• Chapter 13 The Carlist Wars and Political Turmoil in the 19th Century
• Chapter 14 The Industrial Revolution and its Limited Impact on Galicia
• Chapter 15 Mass Emigration to the Americas: A Tale of Hope and Hardship
• Chapter 16 The Second Spanish Republic and the Galician Statute of Autonomy
• Chapter 17 The Spanish Civil War and the Francoist Repression in Galicia
• Chapter 18 The Post-War Years: Economic Stagnation and Cultural Resistance
• Chapter 19 The Transition to Democracy and the Rebirth of Galician Autonomy
• Chapter 20 The Modernization of the Galician Economy: From Agriculture to Industry
• Chapter 21 The Prestige Oil Spill: An Environmental and Social Turning Point
• Chapter 22 Contemporary Galician Culture: Music, Art, and Cinema
• Chapter 23 The Galician Language in the 21st Century: Challenges and Revival
• Chapter 24 Galicia and its Place within Modern Spain and the European Union
• Chapter 25 Future Horizons: Demographic Challenges and New Opportunities

To know Spain is to know a land of dramatic contrasts, a mosaic of cultures, languages, and landscapes pressed together on the Iberian Peninsula. Yet, within this diversity, one corner remains defiantly distinct, a region that often feels like a world apart. This is Galicia. Perched on the northwestern tip of the peninsula, it presents a face to the world that challenges the stereotypical image of sun-drenched plains and fiery flamenco. Here, the colours are not the ochre and terracotta of the south, but the fifty shades of green of a land fed by Atlantic rain. The soundtrack is not the strumming of a guitar, but the haunting drone of the gaita, the Galician bagpipe, a sound that speaks of a different heritage.

This is a land defined by its relationship with the Atlantic Ocean, which batters its rugged coastline of sheer cliffs and deep, fjord-like inlets known as rías. It is a land of rolling hills, dense forests, and a web of rivers so extensive it has been called "the land of a thousand rivers." Mountains form a natural barrier to the east, historically isolating Galicia from the central plains of Spain and fostering a unique cultural and linguistic identity. For centuries, this geographical position made Galicia the literal edge of the known world for Romans and medieval pilgrims alike, the Finis Terrae or "End of the Earth." This perception of being at the very end of the continent has profoundly shaped the Galician psyche and its historical trajectory.

The story of Galicia is the story of a place that is at once European and uniquely its own. Its name derives from the Gallaeci, a collection of Celtic tribes who inhabited the area before the arrival of the Romans. While the Celtic language they spoke has long since vanished, its echoes remain in the region's folklore, music, ancient stone forts (castros), and a spiritual connection to the natural world. This Celtic heritage sets Galicia apart from much of Spain and aligns it with an Atlantic arc of cultures stretching from Portugal up to Ireland, Scotland, and Brittany.

This book aims to chart the long, often turbulent, and endlessly fascinating history of this unique corner of Iberia. It is a journey that begins in the mists of prehistory, with the mysterious megalith builders who left behind thousands of stone dolmens on the landscape, and the hillfort culture of the Celts who gave the region its name. We will follow the Roman legions as they struggled to conquer these fierce tribes, ultimately incorporating the land they called Gallaecia into their vast empire and leaving behind roads, bridges, and a linguistic legacy that would eventually blossom into the Galician language, Galego.

After the fall of Rome, Galicia became the seat of one of the first independent kingdoms established in the ashes of the empire: the Suebic Kingdom, a Germanic foothold that endured for nearly two centuries before being absorbed by the Visigoths. Unlike much of the peninsula, the subsequent Moorish invasion in the eighth century was a fleeting affair here, leaving little trace and allowing the region to become a Christian redoubt.

It was in the ninth century that an event occurred which would break Galicia’s isolation and place it at the very heart of the Christian world. The discovery of a tomb believed to hold the remains of the Apostle Saint James transformed a small settlement into Santiago de Compostela, which would become the third most important site of pilgrimage in Christendom, after Jerusalem and Rome. The "Way of Saint James," or the Camino de Santiago, became a spiritual superhighway, channeling a constant flow of people, ideas, art, and commerce from across Europe into the heart of Galicia, forever changing its destiny.

The Middle Ages saw the rise and fall of a powerful Kingdom of Galicia, whose nobles vied for influence and whose literary language, Galician-Portuguese, became the premier vehicle for lyric poetry throughout Iberia. But this period of prominence was followed by centuries of gradual absorption into the ascendant Crown of Castile. This was not always a peaceful process. We will explore the great Irmandiño Revolts of the 15th century, a massive peasant uprising against the abuses of the feudal lords, and the subsequent "domestication" of the region by the Catholic Monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, which brought the proud Galician nobility to heel and began a long period of centralized control from Castile.

This centralization marked the beginning of the Séculos Escuros, or "Dark Centuries," a period of perceived political and cultural decline. With its language suppressed in official use in favor of Castilian Spanish, and its people suffering from economic hardship, Galicia turned inward. Yet, it also turned outward in a new and dramatic way. From the Age of Discovery onward, Galicia became a land of emigrants. Poverty and lack of opportunity drove hundreds of thousands of Galicians to seek their fortunes in the Americas, particularly in Cuba and Argentina. This mass exodus left an indelible mark on the homeland, creating a culture of separation and longing, encapsulated in the untranslatable Galician word morriña—a deep, melancholic homesickness for the land, the people, and the way of life left behind.

But the Galician spirit was never extinguished. The 19th century witnessed a powerful cultural and literary revival known as the Rexurdimento, or "Resurgence." Poets and intellectuals, most notably the celebrated Rosalía de Castro, reclaimed the Galician language as a medium for high art, sparking a renewed sense of identity and pride. This cultural awakening coincided with a period of political turmoil, from the Carlist Wars to the rise of republicanism, as Galicia, like the rest of Spain, grappled with the challenges of modernity.

The 20th century brought both immense hope and profound tragedy. The brief years of the Second Spanish Republic saw the approval of a Statute of Autonomy for Galicia, a dream of self-governance that was brutally crushed by the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War and the subsequent four decades of Francisco Franco's dictatorship. The Francoist regime suppressed regional identities and languages, but Galician culture survived in the home and through quiet acts of resistance. The return to democracy in the late 1970s ushered in a new era, restoring the region's autonomy and unleashing a cultural and economic transformation.

In its final chapters, this book will explore contemporary Galicia. We will examine its journey from a largely agricultural and fishing-based economy to a more modern and diverse one. We will look at pivotal moments like the Prestige oil spill, an ecological disaster that also sparked a massive civil society movement. We will delve into the vibrant modern culture, from its world-renowned cinema to its thriving music scene. We will also address the ongoing challenges facing the Galician language and the region's demographic future. Finally, we will consider Galicia's place in the 21st century, as an autonomous community within Spain, a historic nationality with deep roots, and a unique voice within the European Union.

This is not just the history of a remote corner of Spain. It is the story of a land that was once considered the end of the world but became a center of faith for millions. It is the story of a people whose history of emigration has shaped cultures on both sides of the Atlantic. It is the story of a resilient identity and a unique language that have survived centuries of pressure and neglect. From the Stone Age to the present day, the history of Galicia is a rich, complex, and deeply human story. This book invites you to journey through that story, to discover the green heart of Iberia.

Long before the first Roman legionaries cast a wary eye over its green, mist-shrouded hills, Galicia was an ancient land, its story written not in books but in stone. The tale of its first inhabitants begins in the Neolithic period, a revolutionary era when humanity began to trade the precarious life of the hunter-gatherer for the settled existence of the farmer. From around 4500 BC, a new and remarkable culture took root, one defined by an obsession with building on a monumental scale. This was the age of megaliths, and its legacy is scattered across the Galician landscape in the form of thousands of stone tombs known as dolmens.

These were not mere graves but powerful statements. Known in Galician as antas or mámoas, these structures were communal burial places, sacred sites where entire communities interred their dead. Constructing them was a colossal undertaking, requiring the quarrying and transport of enormous stone slabs, which were then wrestled into position—several upright stones (orthostats) forming a chamber, capped by one or more massive horizontal slabs. The entire structure was then buried under a mound of earth and smaller stones, creating a prominent artificial hill in the landscape. What remains today, in most cases, is the skeletal stone chamber, the earthen mámoa having long since eroded away.

These dolmens were more than just repositories for bones; they were social and religious focal points. Their construction would have demanded immense cooperation, reinforcing community bonds and demonstrating the power and prestige of a particular group. Legends passed down through the centuries often attributed their creation to mythological figures like the mouros (Moors) or mouras, powerful beings who were said to guard immense treasures beneath the stones. While archaeologists have found grave goods buried with the deceased—pottery, tools, and personal adornments intended for use in the afterlife—the real treasure lies in what these monuments tell us about their builders. They reveal a society with a deep reverence for its ancestors and a sophisticated understanding of engineering and astronomy. Many dolmens, such as the famous Axeitos Dolmen, are oriented to align with celestial events like the equinoxes, allowing sunlight to penetrate their dark corridors at specific times of the year.

Galicia boasts some of the most impressive examples of megalithic architecture in the Iberian Peninsula. The Dolmen of Dombate, often called the "cathedral of Galician megalithism," is renowned for the traces of paintings that once adorned its interior slabs—zig-zag patterns and other symbols whose meanings are now lost to us, but which represent some of the earliest artistic expressions in the region. Similarly, the Pedra Cuberta dolmen was studied nearly a century ago for the paintings found in its corridor. These remnants of red and black paint offer a tantalizing glimpse into the symbolic world of these Neolithic people. Throughout the region, from the Costa da Morte, with over 600 identified megalithic sites, to the inland province of Ourense, these silent stone sentinels stand as a testament to Galicia’s first great culture.

As the Neolithic gave way to the Bronze Age around 1500 BC, new technologies and social structures began to emerge. While megalithic traditions continued for a time, another form of stone artistry began to appear: petroglyphs. Carved onto open-air granite rocks, these engravings depict a world of geometric shapes—spirals, concentric circles, and labyrinths—alongside more recognizable figures of deer, riders, and weapons. The Archaeological Park of Campo Lameiro in Pontevedra holds one of Europe’s most significant collections of this rock art, offering a window into the beliefs and daily concerns of Bronze Age society. The symbolism often revolves around hunting and warfare, suggesting a society where the status of the male warrior was paramount.

This growing emphasis on martial prowess and defensibility heralded the next major shift in Galician prehistory. Toward the end of the Bronze Age and into the Iron Age, from around the 9th century BC, a new and distinctive way of life emerged, one that would define the region for nearly a thousand years. This was the Castro culture, named after its most characteristic feature: the castro, a fortified hilltop settlement. These were the villages and towns of the people the Romans would later call the Gallaeci, a collection of Celtic tribes from whom Galicia derives its name.

The transition to the Castro culture represented a fundamental change in how people lived. Instead of the dispersed communities of the Megalithic era, society now congregated in highly defensible, strategically located settlements. Perched on hilltops, coastal peninsulas, or river spurs, castros offered commanding views of the surrounding territory, providing an early warning system against potential threats. With around 3,000 inventoried castros in Galicia, the landscape was once densely populated with these fortified communities. Their construction was a direct response to the needs of the time, reflecting a more turbulent period where defense was a primary concern.

A typical castro was enclosed by one or more formidable defensive systems, including thick stone walls, deep ditches, and earthen ramparts. The entrances were often narrow and cleverly designed to expose an attacker’s flank. Within these defenses, the settlement was a tightly packed warren of dwellings. The characteristic house was a circular or oval stone building, typically between 3 and 5 meters in diameter, with a conical roof of thatch supported by a central post. These were single-room structures, and a family unit might consist of several such buildings clustered around a small, shared patio.

Life within the castro was organized and industrious. The inhabitants were skilled farmers and herders. Pollen analysis shows that the Iron Age was a time of significant deforestation as fields and meadows were created to grow cereals like wheat and barley, which were used for both bread and beer. They also cultivated beans and cabbage and raised cattle, goats, and sheep. In coastal castros, such as the spectacular Castro de Baroña, built on a rocky peninsula jutting into the Atlantic, the diet was supplemented by a rich bounty from the sea.

The people of the castros were also master artisans, particularly in metallurgy. They refined bronze and, increasingly, iron to produce a wide range of goods, from agricultural tools like sickles and hoes to weapons such as swords and spearheads. Goldsmithing was another area of expertise, and they created stunning jewelry, most notably the heavy, ornate neck-rings known as torcs, which were potent symbols of power and status. The Gold Torc of Burela is a magnificent example of their craftsmanship. Pottery was largely functional, dark, and hand-molded, though contact with the Roman world would later introduce more advanced techniques.

The society that built and inhabited these forts was tribal and likely organized into distinct family or clan units. These groups, in turn, formed larger tribal confederations. Classical writers like Pliny the Elder documented over two dozen distinct peoples or populi in the region, including the Bracari, Limi, and Grovii. The question of just how "Celtic" these people were is a subject of ongoing debate among historians and archaeologists. While the Gallaeci spoke an Indo-European language with clear Celtic affinities, their material culture was a unique, homegrown development with influences from across Atlantic Europe and the wider Iberian Peninsula. What is undeniable is that their art, symbolism, and warrior ethos share many characteristics with Celtic cultures elsewhere in Europe. Decorative motifs like triskelions, swastikas, and spirals are common, connecting them to a broader Atlantic artistic tradition.

Some castros grew over time into larger, more complex settlements that could almost be described as proto-urban centers, sometimes called oppida or cividades. The Castro de Santa Trega, magnificently situated overlooking the mouth of the Miño River, was a vast settlement inhabited from the 1st century BC to the 1st century AD, by which time Roman influence was already being felt. Likewise, the Castro de Viladonga in Lugo was a major center with complex defensive structures that was occupied well into the Roman era, indicating a long period of coexistence and gradual transformation. These larger sites often became important commercial hubs, trading with Phoenicians, Carthaginians, and eventually Romans. It was Galicia’s mineral wealth, particularly its tin and gold, that first attracted these Mediterranean traders to its shores.

For nearly a millennium, the castro was the defining feature of the Galician landscape. It was both a fortress and a home, the center of a resilient, self-sufficient, and highly organized society. The people who lived within their stone walls were the first Galicians, a fierce and independent people who shaped the cultural bedrock of the region. Their legacy endures not only in the thousands of archaeological sites that dot the hills and coastlines, but also in the very name of the land they once ruled. They were the people of the castros, and their story is the essential first chapter in the long and rich history of Galicia.