Columbus Didn't Write in Italian, and His Origins Remain Unresolved

Columbus didn't write in Italian: the origin no one closes

Where was Christopher Columbus from? The version repeated since the 19th century points to Genoa. Yet, according to defenders of the Galician thesis, the admiral left no single writing in Ligurian and is always referred to as 'Columbus'—neither Colom nor Colombo. The reopening of the case has multiplied the theories: Galician, Catalan, Valencian, Portuguese, Cantabrian, and of Jewish converso origin. None close the file. All, moreover, accuse each other of fabricating evidence.

Why does the Genoese origin not quite fit?

The most common argument against Genoa is linguistic. All his known work is in Castilian, with turns of phrase that sound more like the Atlantic coast than a first-generation Genoese. This is compounded by the fact that in official Castilian documents he always appears as 'Columbus'—as in the Capitulations of Santa Fe and the Alexandrian Bulls—and that the confessor of the Catholic Monarchs, Lucio Marineo Sículo, called him 'Pedro Columbus', a name that does not fit any Cristoforo Colombo.

Against this weighs an uncomfortable fact for the breakaway theorists: Genoese colonies were scattered across the Peninsula. Only in Granada were there 25 Genoese houses in 1575, and these people spoke Castilian as their native language. That Columbus mastered the language does not make him Galician. Another objection points to the 77 documents of the Raccolta Colombina mentioning the Colombo family of Genoa: they appear transcribed and located, but without a single photograph of the original.

Pedro Madruga, the Galician thesis gaining adherents

The loudest hypothesis holds that Columbus was actually Pedro Álvarez de Sotomayor, Pedro Madruga, Count of Camiña, a legitimized bastard of the Sotomayor house with close ties to Portugal. The evidence cited is of all kinds: Galician geographical names transplanted to the New World—Santiago Island, Miño River, Xallas River, Muros Point—the construction of the Santa María in a shipyard less than half a kilometer from Madruga's home, and devotion to the Virgin of the O, patron saint of Pontevedra sailors.

The problem is that Madruga would have died in 1486, with a trial declaring him dead and the whole family present. His defenders reply with real documents placing him alive much later, such as a decree dated in Salamanca on January 15, 1506 regarding the Count of Camiña.

The converso clue: secrecy and unpublished DNA

Another current places him as a Jewish converso who hid his origin. The genetic study released points to a map of ancestors in the vicinity of the Crown of Aragon, with Corsica and Sicily in the radius, and with a profile compatible with Sephardic ancestry. The technical nuance, they point out, is not minor: the Jewish community had been mixing with the local population for centuries.

The hitch is that this work has not been published. And against the need to hide, illustrious conversos who made a career out in the open are cited: Luis de Santángel, who ultimately provided the funding for the expedition, or Bishop Alonso de Cartagena. No one persecuted them for their past.

The 1498 entailment, the 1577 lawsuit, and a lost will

Much of the case is fought over paperwork. The 1498 document where Columbus says he was born in Genoa is considered false or manipulated within the lengthy lawsuit over the entailment and the Duchy of Veragua, which spanned between 1577 and 1608. The 1506 will states that the entailment was created in 1502, but that document disappeared. For critics, the crown jewel of Italian origin is, at best, dubious.

His own son Hernando said that although his father claimed to be Italian, he was not, and that he had lied on purpose. That, coming from the family, does not help.

Catalans, Valencians, and Cantabrians: this week's theory

Regional variants are set aside: the Catalan origin dismissed with irony, the Valencian one from Énova, and a Cantabrian proposal starting from his son Hernando's will. None currently provide documentation that withstands scrutiny. And all coexist with a striking detail: Columbus fell into oblivion for three generations until Lope de Vega reclaimed him in El Nuevo Mundo, in 1599.

That the man who peine the map of the world still has no birth certificate has its charm. The definitive proof would be a compared and published DNA test. It sits in a drawer. Like the 1502 will.