Commemorative Urban Practices and Gender Equality: The Case of Santiago de Compostela’s Urban Anthroponymy

Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 109 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 Summary For centuries, decision-making procedures in commemorative urban practices have established a methodology of recognition relying on an androcentric process which has implied exclusion mechanisms. Structures of economic and dominating cultural power favoured the interests of a privileged minority, while penalizing, limiting and constraining the inclusion and visibility of a wide range of human beings, mainly women. This bias was historically questioned by feminist theory and gender mainstreaming policies, which focus on how different gender gaps affect women in order to improve the standard of justice, progress and dignity of all people in different territories. Through a study of Santiago de Compostela’s urban anthroponymy, we will discuss how differences between social groups still persist, exploring, if applicable, how to produce effective changes that potentially resolve situations of inequality. Other forms of imagination and resistance can emerge at a symbolic level also, including in the way the streets of our cities are named. Key words Equality; Feminism; Gender; Street names; Anthroponymy; Women Resumen Durante siglos, los procesos de toma de decisión en las prácticas urbanas conmemorativas han establecido una metodología de reconocimiento basada en un sesgo androcéntrico que ha implicado mecanismos de exclusión y cierre. Las estructuras del poder han favorecido los intereses particulares de una minoría privilegiada, penalizando, limitando y conteniendo la inclusión y visibilidad de la diversidad humana de nuestras ciudades. Este sesgo histórico ha sido cuestionado por la teoría feminista y las políticas de igualdad, centradas en el estudio de las distintas desigualdades de género que afectan a las mujeres con el fin de promover estándares de justicia, progreso y dignidad para todas las personas en los diferentes territorios. A través del estudio de la antroponimia urbana de Santiago de Compostela analizaremos las prácticas conmemorativas urbanas, discutiendo, de ser el caso, cómo producir cambios efectivos que resuelvan las potenciales situaciones de desigualdad. Otras formas de imaginación y resistencia pueden emerger, también en un nivel simbólico, incluso en la manera en la que las calles de nuestras ciudades son denominadas. Palabras clave Igualdad; Feminismo; Género; Calles; Antroponimia; Mujeres Commemorative Urban Practices and Gender Equality: The Case of Santiago de Compostela’s Urban Anthroponymy Prácticas Conmemorativas Urbanas e Igualdad de Género: El Caso de la Antroponimia Urbana de Santiago de Compostela María Novas Ferradás1 Fecha de recepción: 28-03-20 – Fecha de aceptación: 20-07-2018 Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, pp. 109-129. http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 1 Arquitecta y doctoranda en Arquitectura en la Universidad de Sevilla (España); investigadora invitada en el Departamento de Arquitectura de la Universidad Técnica de Delft (Países Bajos). María Novas Ferradás 110 Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 Introduction A Critical Engagement of Toponymic Inscription The social and cultural understanding of urban spaces is unavoidable in new critical approaches to cities that may result in potential transformations towards the construction of more inclusive and fair territories. Gender inequalities and power imbalances between social groups can still be found at every level of cultural production, as well as in architectural and urban discourse, such as “in its rituals of legitimation, classification systems, lecture techniques, publicity images, canon formation, division of labour, bibliographies, design conventions, legal codes, salary structures, publishing practices, language, professional ethics, editing protocols, project credits, etc.” (Wingley, 1992, p. 329). Different approaches to the symbolic order of urbanism and architecture narratives are increasingly emerging as a form of imaginative resistance, opposing those from traditional, autonomous and authoritarian perspectives which are still the norm. In this context, urban space as ideology, and toponomy as an urban form of power that qualifies territory, is a critical engagement in research that has been developed by political geography (cf. Giraut and Houssay-Holzschuch, 2008a, p. 98), starting in the mid-1980s & taking place most intensively from the mid-1990s onwards (cf. Rose-Redwood, Alderman & Azaryahu, 2010, p. 456) through critical place-name studies, stimulating a critical review “of the social and political struggles over spatial inscription and related toponymic practices” (ob. cit., p. 455). Since then, researchers such as Reuben Rose-Redword, Derek H. Figure 1: Rúa de Maruxa Mallo / Maruxa Mallo Street. Source: photo by the author, Santiago de Compostela, 2017. Commemorative Urban Practices and Gender Equality: The Case of Santiago de Compostela’s Urban Anthroponymy Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 111 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 Alderman and Maoz Azaryahu have actively been working on this issue, pointing out how academic tradition “was preoccupied with accumulating and cataloguing the names of places rather than analysing the socio-spatial practice of toponymic inscription itself” (Rose-Redwood, Alderman & Azaryahu, 2010, p. 456), without taking the authoritarian procedures of place-naming into account. This subsequent reorientation of research has also been noted by other authors such as Duncan Light and Craig Young (2014, cf. p. 436), and has been addressed by Frédéric Giraut and Myriam Houssay-Holzschuch who specifically refer to how “the introduction of ‘post-’ approaches and issues: Poststructuralist, feminist, and postcolonial theories have been successfully applied to toponymic studies” (Giraut & Houssay-Holzschuch, 2016, p. 4). All things considering: The contested politics of place naming are now well documented in the geographical literature, with much of this work focusing on questions of nationalism, (post)colonialism, identity politics, and the spatialization of collective memory (Berg & Vuolteenaho, 2009; Rose-Redwood, Alderman, & Azaryahu, 2010). This focus on the politics of place, identity, and naming has gone a long way toward repoliticizing the geographies of toponymic inscription (Rose-Redwood, 2011a, p. 2). To provide a historical overview, commemorative urban practices were born from the structures of economic and cultural legitimisation that dominated, despite the fact that “traditionally street names were vernacular and designated either geographical orientation and urban function or referred to a certain peculiarity associated with local topography and history” (Azaryahu, 1996, p. 313). The previously cited author, Maoz Azaryahu, in his 1996 article “The Power of Commemorative Street Names”, explains that this practice is actually modern since it was created in the eighteenth century in France, in the context of French Revolution, coinciding with the promotion of postal services. Following this, “political, administrative, and urban agendas converged in the formal subjugation of street names in general, and the naming procedure in particular, to official control” (ob. cit., p. 313). That was when the ‘geo-locational regime’ emerged, where authorities needed “to identify, tax and police their populations and provide them with services (Rose-Redwood, Alderman and Azaryahu, 2010). In this context, naming urban places is one strategy through which urban space is rendered governable (Vuolteenaho & Berg, 2009), thereby facilitating broader processes of capital accumulation” (Light & Young, 2014, p. 436). Bearing this in mind: Place naming is part of a broader history of spatial identification. A genealogy of the latter requires not only a consideration of place naming itself but also how it relates to a whole series of spatial practices such as street and house numbering, the establishment of signage systems, cadastral mapping for the purposes of property management, the creation of postal codes, and other related techniques of spatial inscription (geo-cod- ing) (Rose-Redwood, Alderman & Azaryahu, 2010, p. 461). But besides the intention of geo-coding assumed by naming streets, Azaryahu (1996, cf. p. 311) points out that, fundamentally, it also meant transforming urban space into a virtual political setting, suggesting an expression of power which seeks to validate a certain political represen- María Novas Ferradás 112 Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 tation and official version of history in the city: “commemorative street names, which are a conventional element of the urban texture, play a special role in naturalizing a prime cultural construct: an hegemonic version of history” (ob. cit., p. 319). This spatial configuration of history has also been named spatial narratives, and they “entail a configuration of locations and time in space” (Azaryahu & Foote, 2008, p.180). Consequently, and by comparison, “the utilitarian function of a sign is often contrasted with its commemorative dimensions, whereby the former is reduced to the common-sense notion of the need for spatial orientation (denotation) and the latter consists of the more complicated world of symbolic associations (connotation)” (Rose-Redwood, Alderman & Azaryahu, 2010, p. 460). In the previously cited article “Geographies of toponymic inscription: New directions in critical place-name studies” from 2010, the authors deal with the notion of political semiotics and how it “explores ideology as a cultural form and investigate the socio-political dimension of signs” as it “offers important insights into the study of the relations between toponymy and the politics of cultural signification” (cf. ob. cit., p. 460). Referring again to political power: Semiotics, or the study of signs, explores the cultural communication of meaning and how messages that are disseminated in the sphere of social communication are encoded and decoded. Applying a semiotic approach appears to be especially rewarding for the study of commemorative toponyms. The semiotic association between place naming and political power can be traced back throughout the course of history (ob. cit., p. 458). Figure 2: Rúa de Concepción Arenal / Concepción Arenal Street. Source: photo by the author, Santiago de Compostela, 2017. Commemorative Urban Practices and Gender Equality: The Case of Santiago de Compostela’s Urban Anthroponymy Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 113 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 Researcher Edith Kuri Pineda (2013) also stresses the relationship between space and power commemoration, bringing attention to this quality of space as an instrument to build and reproduce power (cf. ob. cit., p. 85). She specifically cites anthropologist Marc Augé and the three elements that shape places (those that are relational, historical and concerned with identity), remarking how place is also identity, social relationality and historicity.2 But this process of merging history-relationali- ty-identity and physical environment in an ordered and formal way does not necessarily reflect a social consensus. When faced with social constructed realities that fix, legitimize and naturalize spatial narratives of the elite and dominant groups in public spaces, dissent and opposition based on ethical standards are possible. Authors Derek H. Alderman and Joshua Inwood (2013) call to analyse place-naming practices in terms of social justice by expressing how: It is especially important to understand how place naming rights and toponymic practices work ideologically to disenfranchise or empower historically marginalized groups as they make claims for public space, political legitimacy and what landscape scholars refer to as the ‘politics of belonging’ (e. g. Alderman and Modlin forthcoming; Schein, 2009) (ob. cit., p. 213). Finally: Spatial justice recognizes that social, economic, and political injustices are frequently based on and perpetuated through the ways in which we organize, use, and control places and spatial processes. So- Figure 3: Rúa das Trece Rosas / Trece Rosas Street. Source: photo by the author, Santiago de Compostela, 2017. 2 Traslated from Spanish by the author from the original text: “Otra puntualización interpretativa pertinente es la formulada por el antropólogo francés Marc Augé, quien sostiene que los lugares están conformados por una tríada de elementos: 1) identificatorios; 2) relacionales y 3) históricos (Augé, 2008). El lugar es, pues, identidad, relacionalidad social e historicidad” (Kuri Pineda, pp. 89-90). María Novas Ferradás 114 Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 cial life is inherently territorialized and any meaningful effort to create social justice must address the geographic order that constitutes and shapes social inequalities and unfair decision-making processes (Bromberg et al., 2007: 2)” (ob. cit., p. 219). Towards Commemorative Urban Practices from Situated Perspectives Urban anthroponymy is a main exponent of collective memory in public space. As it was previously outlined, naming urban elements is a widespread political decision-making process which seeks to commemorate and legitimise a hegemonic understanding of history through the spatial narratives of power. Streets’ toponomy (odonyms), together with monuments or plaques and the naming of singular or institutional buildings, are part of a validation system based on the enhancement of a human archetype with a certain social status that ultimately embodied in a tangible expression: visible anthroponomic inscriptions (cf. Giraut & Houssay-Holzschuch, 2017, p. 4). For centuries, from the established power bodies, decision-making institutions’ procedures have established a methodology of recognition which is both biased and skewed, relying on an androcentric process that has implied exclusion mechanisms (gate-keepers). This favoured the interests of a privileged minority, penalizing, limiting and constraining the inclusion and visibility of a wide and plural range of human beings, mainly women (as they make up approximately 50% of the population), but not exclusively. Thus, space is not only an instrument of power domination, but also of political tension between different social actors (cf. Kuri Pineda, 2013, p. 87). In terms of spatial justice, street toponomy has been a field of struggle for legitimacy from racial and ethnic perspectives, with the goal of reshaping urban space identity (cf. Alderman & Inwood, 2013, p. 215), to address gender, class and postcolonialism concerns. A consideration of distributive justice prompts us to consider how the toponymic landscape should be reconstructed in ways that reflect and give voice to previously suppressed histories and identities. Exactly how many of our schools, streets, bridges, stadiums, and parks are named for minorities? A concern with distribution also draws attention to an analysis of the intraurban spatial context and the degree to which toponyms work, depending on their location, to marginalize or raise the perceived public legitimacy of subordinate groups. What is the ‘place’ of certain named public spaces in relation to a city’s array of race-, gender-, and class-based spatial distributions? Without serious consideration of this question, places named for marginalized groups could actually work to alienate and further segregate these groups (Alderman, 2002a). As Raento and Watson (2000, p. 728) recognize, ‘Naming and re-naming are strategies of power, and location matters, because this power is only truly exercised when it is “seen” in the appropriate place’ (Rose-Redwood, Alderman & Azaryahu, 2010, p. 465). In this light, scholars have been using the metaphor of cultural arena as a way of focusing “on the capacity of place names to serve as sites of contest, debate, and negotiation as social groups compete for the right to name” (ob. cit., 2010, p. 462): Commemorative Urban Practices and Gender Equality: The Case of Santiago de Compostela’s Urban Anthroponymy Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 115 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 One possible way of understanding the socially constructed and contestable nature of place naming. An arena approach recognizes place naming as part of the broader production of public space and the capacity of naming —as a place-making process— to serve as sites of contest, debate, and negotiation. Social groups and actors within those groups, with varying goals and levels of power and resources, compete for the right to name the landscape and cast legitimacy on their political vision, cultural history, and identity (Alderman 2002). The arena metaphor recognizes the highly public and performative nature of debates over toponymic practice as people seek to influence collective decisions or policies and justify their claims (Alderman & Inwood, 2013, p. 215). Thus, toponymic inscription is understood not only as a product of established power, but a place where rising power has a chance to surface. Traditionally excluded actors can then become active ones “regarding decisions related to the space they inhabit and not merely spectators” (Shoval, 2013, p. 624), claiming their right to the city and calling into question the political innocence (Rose-Redwood, 2011b, p. 34), impartiality, neutrality or accidentally/apolitical nature of naming processes. Since considering toponyms as “isolated linguistic objects” (Tucker and Rose-Redwood, 2015, p. 197) has the problem of confining naming processes “to the supposed qualities of the toponym itself while ignoring the broader set of political processes at work in the production of toponymic landscapes” (Rose-Redwood, 2011a, p. 3), while others “are overlooked or marginalized” (Light & Young, 2014, p. 436). Newer toponymic approaches stress the cultural politics of naming, paying close attention to who controls the naming process (and conversely who does not) as well as the cultural and political world views that are given voice (and made silent) through the place name landscape. Place names are more than innocent spatial references or passive artefacts; they are embedded in social power relations and struggles over the identities of places and people (Berg & Vuolteenaho 2009; Kearns & Berg 2002) (Alderman & Inwood, 2013, p. 212). Feminist theory has focused the analysis on placing historically marginalized social groups at the core. Specifically, systematic exclusion of women from social recognition has its roots in the gendered segregation of spheres, specifically the private/public dichotomy. Private and domestic spaces, where reproductive and care work have taken place, were where women were historically confined, while men actively participated in public life. It is precisely in this public domain that social values that seen as traditional take place: productive work, politics, culture, etc. (cf. Guerra Palmero, 1999, p. 47). According to the article “Women, Identity and Public Space” written by María José Guerra Palmero, since the exclusion of women from full citizenship during the French Revolution as(they were considered inherently passive and submissive, suitably home-oriented, the subtext of the gender of the citizens’ role has been masculine, and the consequences of being a public woman were only shame and mock (cf. ob. cit., p. 51). The access of women to public spaces was key in order to achieve social recognition, but during the Age of Enlightenment, influential thinkers such as Jean-Jacques Rosseau reinforced biological determination theories. As a result, masculine norms of public and pri- María Novas Ferradás 116 Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 vate were the ones authorized and legitimized to build commemoration processes, devaluing women’s contributions by classifying them as not worth considering. This supposed universal objectivity and neutrality of traditionally dominant groups’ spatial narratives are once more highlighted in this article where the author concludes how: The discourse —which is ‘masculine’ in the sense of the only ones legitimated to speak out are men— would be covered of authority, would be identified with the truth, the rationality and the objectivity; only they will get the credibility and the recognition to speak in the name of general interest. Women’s contributions will be devalued and their opinions always ‘subjective’. The objectivity is masculine3 (Guerra Palmero, 1999, pp. 52-53). To ensure ethical quality in the discourses and paradigms of the recognition methodology, gender and feminist studies have broadly discussed this supposed universal neutrality and objectivity, problematizing its political innocence. From that critical engagement, feminist approaches point out large differences in the recognition of non-privi- leged social actors’ contributions, which remain in force as a source of social inequality. In order to overcome the biased doctrine of objectivity as a commonly presumed truth, situated perspectives arise as an opportunity for a feminist-sensitive contestation. According to Donna Haraway (1988), “Feminist objectivity means quite simple situated knowledges” (p. 581). The influential author claims that we must transform objectivity debates since “History is a story” (ob. cit., p. 577), an allegory created from Western culture that new critical theories seek to transform. A central idea emerges in her words: “Feminists don’t need a doctrine of objectivity that promises transcendence, a theory that loses track of its mediations just where someone might be held responsible for something, and unlimited instrumental power. We don’t want a theory of innocent powers to represent the world” (ob. cit., p. 579), but what we need is an: An earth-wide network of connections, including the ability partially to translate knowledge’s among very different -and power-differentiated- communities. We need the power of modern critical theories of how meanings and bodies get made, not in order to deny meanings and bodies, but in order to build meanings and bodies that have a chance for life (Haraway, 1988, p. 580). Collective (Spatial) Narratives as a Living Social Construction In contexts of social and political change, -which can be understood to be where effective equality is being built, the role of collective memory is key given that “it is precisely in public space -as a territory of cultural, political and social plurality- [where] political and symbolic struggles are settled aiming to depict a past view(s)”4 (Kuri Pineda, 2017, p. 27). Edith E. Kuri Pineda develops this idea in her article “The Social Construction of Memory in the Space: A Sociological Approach”: “speaking about memory means to allude to a social process where historicity, time, space, social relationships, power, subjectivity, social practices, conflict and, of course, transformation and permanence, is condensed”5 (ob. cit., p. 11). Here, collective memory is conceived as 3 Translated from Spanish by the author from the original text “El discurso —que es «masculino», en el sentido que los únicos legitimados para tomar la palabra son los hombres— se cubrirá de autoridad, se identificará con la verdad, la razón y la objetividad: sólo ellos obtendrán la credibilidad y el reconocimiento para hablar por boca del interés general. Las contribuciones de las mujeres siempre serán devaluadas y sus opiniones siempre «subjetivas» La objetividad es masculina”. 4 Translated from Spanish by the author from the original text “justamente en el espacio público —en tanto territorio de la pluralidad cultural, política y social— se entablan pugnas políticas y simbólicas encaminadas a plasmar en él una(s) visión(es) del pasado”. Commemorative Urban Practices and Gender Equality: The Case of Santiago de Compostela’s Urban Anthroponymy Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 117 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 a living social construction, created for a specific purpose, and yet, it is also a place of political confrontation to dispute legitimation and supremacies: (cf. ob. cit., p. 10) once again, the cultural arena. Hence, as previous authors have empathised, public space would be a social construction: “an historical construction that has different levels, like the urban, the cultural, the symbolic, the legal and de political one”6 (ob. cit., p. 21). In the same vein, author Irina Yanushkevich (2014) discusses in her article “Semiotics of Social Memory in Urban Space: The Case of Volgograd (Stalingrad)” more in detail that “social memory as a kind of collective memory deals with the knowledge of the past and the present, about historical events and historical personalities, and includes emotional experience” (p. 44). The researcher adds the idea that emotional experiences can keep up group identities that do not necessarily have to coincide with official established identities, emerges from social construction because “the way in which the past is called up depends on the power of the group which creates the memory of its own” (ob. cit., p. 44). At that point, “social memory becomes one of the key elements determining the present state-of-affairs of the society and actively shaping its future” (ob. cit., p. 49). Although power would be consolidated itself through the link between memory and space, marking territory, objectifying itself and giving symbolic dimension to physical space -as earlier pointed out-, memory establishes interconnections between past and present, but also the future, joining experience with forthcoming horizons. It is precisely this symbolic dimension of public space which makes its resignification 5 Translated from Spanish by the author from the original text “Hablar de la memoria supone aludir a un proceso social en el que se condensa historicidad, tiempo, espacio, relaciones sociales, poder, subjetividad, prácticas sociales, conflicto y, por supuesto, transformación y permanencia.” 6 Translated from Spanish by the author from the original text “El espacio público es una construcción histórica que cuenta con diversos planos, como el urbanístico, el cultural, el simbólico, el legal y el político.” Figure 4: Avenida de Rosalía de Castro / Rosalia de Castro Avenue. Source: photo by the author, Santiago de Compostela, 2017. María Novas Ferradás 124 Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 On one hand, it is necessary to note that a third of feminine toponyms were added in 2007, and it is likely that before that year, data would have been comparable to the other Galician cities (i. e. an average between 4% and 6%). On the other hand, 27.1% of masculine toponyms compared with 9.2% of a total of 1,059 names, is a symbolic statement, only partially representing the plurality and diversity of the city. Considering the rest of the region, these percentages are even amplified in some cases as Pontevedra, where 43.2% of urban public spaces are named after men (cf. Arias Chachero, 2007, pp. 46-49). Comparing the Compostela case with other major Spanish cities To enable comparison between Compostela and other Spanish major cities, data was compiled from accessible information, nearly all of which was released in the press over the last few years. It emerged that, in Madrid, the number of masculine urban anthroponyms is three times greater than the number of feminine anthroponyms. Nonetheless, 21% of more than 9,000 streets of this large city are named after women, a percentage considerably higher than the 9.2% in Santiago de Compostela. The proportion of female anthroponyms is similar to that of Barcelona (19%). Valencia, with 10%, is an example of a situation of severe imbalance resembling Compostela (Llaneras & Pérez Colomé, 2017). In Madrid, as in Santiago de Compostela, the main reason that motivates naming public spaces in honour of women is religious, with this type making up 83% of the total feminine anthroponyms. This number is higher than the 51.5% in Compostela, which perhaps explains the fact that there are more female names i. e. because there are more saints. At the same time, male anthroponyms originate from a wide variety of different professions, while “the only occupation reflected on a plaque of two women is ‘teacher’” (Llaneras & Pérez Colomé, 2017). As in Compostela, Barcelona City Council have also promoted naming streets after women since 1996, gradually increasing from original 27streets (7%) to 97, as quantified in 2010 (Sánchez, 2016). In Córdoba, of the 4,403 names, scarcely 141 thoroughfares remember feminine figures (3.2%), despite including a high number of religious figures (Eldestein, 2017). In Palencia, for example, the gap is noticeable including 216 masculine names against 45 feminine examples (De la Cruz, n. d.), resulting in 83% for the former compared with 17% for the latter. Moreover, as in Compostela, only streets are named after women, with practically no evidence of female names for avenues or squares. Concluding Remarks Compostela, a Case Study in a Generalized Inequality Context Data shows that Santiago de Compostela urban anthroponyms reveal a substantial gender gap, with the number of celebrated masculine figures being triple the number of feminine ones (9.2% against 27.1%). Moreover, the vast majority of feminine urban toponyms referred to are religious figures (but not historical ecclesiastic charac- Commemorative Urban Practices and Gender Equality: The Case of Santiago de Compostela’s Urban Anthroponymy Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 125 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 ters related to power institutions). Data suggests that they are mostly saints, virgins, etc. This traditional female role category correlates, in a traditionally Catholic state like Spain, to the influence, promotion and legitimization of patriarchal power of the Catholic Church since the Middle Ages: a woman must be devout, submissive and passive. The authorized version of women’s history in the city is that saints are the ones to venerate. This fact contrasts with masculine figures names, which are primarily renowned civil characters i. e. men with positions of economic or political power or reputable intellectuals, with a greater variety of occupations than the women represented. The names of intellectual women recently added to the city of Santiago de Compostela’s street nomenclature try to offer alternative forms of resistance that prevents the city to be close to the even worse numbers shown by other Galician capitals, as Pontevedra or Ourense. Nevertheless, compared with other Spanish cities, data indicates that this situation is a generalized picture of an adverse situation. This fact, in a human reality of great diversity, claims an androcentric bias in the methodology of commemorative urban practices. The case of Santiago de Compostela is only one example of a generally established and widespread situation: human collective memory in urban spaces is still predominately masculine; excluding marginalized social groups from recognition procedures and restricting the inclusion of alternative stories, those that go unnoticed for centuries, by considering them inconvenient. Commemorative urban practices are a social constructed system. They were born from the structures of power in the context of the Figure 8: Rúa da Virxe da Cerca / Virxe da Cerca Street. Source: photo by the author, Santiago de Compostela, 2017. María Novas Ferradás 126 Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 French Revolution, and they continue to validate and legitimise a certain political representation of history in public spaces. However, this authoritarian perspective is based on the myth of objectivity. Administrative regulated recognition process is not neutral or impartial, but rather exemplifies an allegory, specifically an androcentric allegory, of a hegemonic version of history. According to Donna Haraway, a doctrine of objectivity from a feminist-based perspective means situated knowledge. Situated perspectives versus objectivity transcend commonly presumed truths, as a way to ensure an ethical, plural and more inclusive narrative of collective memory. In addition, it is essential to overcome systemic exclusion of wom- en by their confinement to private and domestic spheres. For centuries, biologically-determined theories have considered women as submissive, subjective and home-oriented beings, naturalising their belonging to domestic spaces and reserving active public life exclusively for men. However, public spaces are where power becomes evident —it is the domain where social recognition and values take place—. In contemporary political culture, lack of women in urban commemorative processes and toponymic inscription of feminine odonyms through neotoponimy or renaming, can no longer be admitted, although it continues to exist. Despite the unfavourable picture, we must not forget that collective memory is a living social construction, a sphere where people can dispute supremacies and re-establish the links between the past, the present and the future. This means that people can actively change authority discourse through critical and situated perspectives struggling in the cultural arena of commemorative urban practices. In terms of the right to participate, potential transformations are possible in order to shape cities’ futures and turn them into inclusive and fair territories, as in the case of Santiago de Compostela. Recommendations for future research In order to advance towards real effective equality in territories, studies can be done in the future to address this issue from a gender-based perspective in Santiago de Compostela, such as: (1) to investigate the special distribution of thoroughfares based on gender and the social implications of their centrality or peripheral location, as studying the segregated geography of toponyms, “where they are located and, even more importantly, where they are not —can advance or obstruct the realization of the political goals of historically marginalized social groups” (Alderman & Inwood, 2013, p. 218); (2) to delve into profiles of historical figures, and the political reasons that cause the androcentric bias in their social recognition process; (3) to extend the analysis of symbolic representations of women and historically marginalized groups’ collective memory in urban spaces to commemorate public art such as monuments or the names of single buildings or, finally, (4) to explore the temporal dimension, from a historiographic perspectives, that involves the study of the evolution feminine toponyms and the first female pioneers honoured by naming elements in urban public spaces. Alternatives for the future In response to this generalized situation of inequality, some city councils have been pioneers in establishing specific corrective measures that promote more spatial justice contexts regarding gender. Commemorative Urban Practices and Gender Equality: The Case of Santiago de Compostela’s Urban Anthroponymy Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 127 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 The project São Paulo 16% denounces how “84% of streets that commemorate enlightened people in São Paulo refer to men” (‘Estadão’ & FCB Brazil, 2017).11 On this occasion, O Estadão and FCB Brazil started the enterprise #SomosMaisQue16porcento (#WeAreMoreThan16per- cent) in 2017, “an initiative to make the city more and more diverse” (ibíd.). Thus, through its site 16porcento.com.br citizens can participate in voting or indicating women that are worth commemorating. The ultimate goal is to “deliver a document with all the voted-for names to the Câmara de Vereadores” (ibíd.) and transform reality, making alternative stories evident. Other cities such as Florence, in Italy, established municipal regulations in order to achieve gender parity by dedicating 50% of urban anthroponyms to women. This initiative was promoted by a councillor after verifying that out of two hundred new toponyms, only twelve were feminine (EFE, 2008). In this case, it should be noted that women´s participation in decision-making processes promotes a more inclusive symbolic presence of human figures in the city. To conclude, collective spatial narratives in public space belongs to the people, as a bridge between past and future that we must re-estab- lish in order to promote definitive spatial justice, and thus fairer societies. In the construction of a more inclusive and diverse territory, we must address urgent ethical questions while acknowledging different inhabitants’ identities. From this point on, situated perspectives will be valuable for building public urban spaces that can be, once and for all, a pathway to a future of equality. Acknowledgements: This work was supported by the Department of Equality, Economic Development and Tourism of the City Council of Santiago de Compostela, under the initiative “Compostela, Women’s Terrain”. 11 Quotations translated from Portuguese by the author from the original text “84% das ruas que homenageiam pessoas ilustres em São Paulo se referem a homens. Tá na hora de mudar esse número. O Estadão está lançando o Projeto #SomosMaisQue16porcento, uma iniciativa para tornar a cidade cada vez mais diversa. Participe votando e/ou indicando grandes mulheres que fizeram parte da história e merecem ter seu nome nas ruas de São Paulo. No final, entregaremos um documento com todos os nomes votados para a Câmara de Vereadores. Depois disso, não existirão mais desculpas para que essa estatística continue assim”. Figure 9: Rúa das Orfas / Orfas Street. Source: photo by the author, Santiago de Compostela, 2017. María Novas Ferradás 128 Hábitat y Sociedad (issn 2173-125X), n.º 11, noviembre de 2018, Universidad de Sevilla, pp. 109-129 http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/HabitatySociedad.2018.i11.07 References Alderman, D. H. e Inwood, J. (2013). Street naming and the politics of belonging: Spatial injustices in the toponymic commemoration of Martin Luther King Jr. Social and Cultural Geography, 14(2), 211– 233. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1080/14649365.201 2.754488. Arias Chachero, P. (2007). Mulleres na Rúa: Sobre Toponimia Urbana. Andaina, Revista galega de pensamiento feminista, 46, 46-49. Recuperado el 12 de agosto de 2018, de: https://issuu.com/petapouca/ docs/andaina_46. Azaryahu, M. (1986). 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