Halloween, cultural assimilation and the unease of part of society

Halloween, cultural assimilation and the unease of part of society

Why does part of society view children going out trick-or-treating in costumes with suspicion? The scene repeats itself every October 31st: children with pumpkins and parents waiting outside shops, while some state schools ask pupils to come dressed up. Behind the costume lies a deeper discussion about which traditions are adopted, where they come from and who makes money from them.

The unease is nothing new, but it resurfaces with force around this time. Some see Halloween as a cultural imposition of American origin that displaces local festivities, while others respond that all cultures blend and that, quite simply, children enjoy the celebration. The discussion intersects with politics, demographics and the commercial calendar, which is why it ends up more heated than the issue deserves.

Where Halloween comes from and why it is celebrated here

The festival has roots in Celtic traditions, such as Samain, which was commemorated at the start of winter. That base later blended with American folklore and the film industry, which popularised pumpkins, costumes and pavor characters. Today the result is a hybrid that has little to do with the original Samain and much to do with the Hollywood aesthetic.

A highly profitable commercial calendar has been built on that mix. Halloween sits in the year after the summer holidays and the Pilar long weekend, and just before Black Friday and the Christmas campaign. That gap in the till explains much of its success: there are clear economic incentives for the festival to stay.

The same mechanism can be seen in other imported or transplanted celebrations. In one valley, a fair with regional costumes is organised with subsidies from the local council, and the question of why it is held there answers itself: anything that moves money ends up with institutional sponsors.

The school as a battleground

The most sensitive point is the school one. When a state school asks children to come dressed up, a celebration becomes a rule, and that is where some parents draw the line. The complaint is not against the children, but against the feeling that a foreign tradition is being instilled in them without asking families.

The most common response among those who reject the festival is not confrontation, but absence: keeping children away from school on those days. It is a silent, barely visible way out that does not change the rule but avoids the conflict. And it reflects an uncomfortable reality: most parents prefer not to fight the institution over a costume.

The complaint that crosses into politics

Discontent over Halloween often ends up mixed with other debates: immigration, cultural politics or the role of the media. That mixture is what turns a children's festival into a thermometer of social unease. When the conversation drifts towards who is "destroying the country", the issue stops being cultural and becomes identity-driven.

Not everyone shares that framing. Some argue that politicising everything is the problem, that a festival is a festival and that criticising every imported tradition only breeds bitterness. The discussion, at its core, is not about sweets: it is about what is considered one's own and what is perceived as an imposition.

What the data says and what remains unknown

There are no official figures in the conversation about how much Halloween generates in Spain or how many schools ask for costumes. What is clear is that the festival has become established in the commercial calendar and coexists with celebrations of diverse origins. The underlying question remains open: if cultures always blend, why does this particular blend bother people more than others?

The answer perhaps lies not in the festival, but in who promotes it and with what interests. And there, as almost always, money and the narrative weigh more than the pumpkin.