Maestre calls Ndongo a primate, sparking legal dispute

Maestre calls Ndongo a primate, sparking legal dispute

The phrase was short, but the fallout is long. In an argument between Antonio Maestre and Bertrand Ndongo, the former claimed he had "less strength than Bertrand Ndongo because he is a primate." The response was immediate: a cascade of messages demanding police reports or lawsuits, urging people to record everything, post it online, and pursue every procedural deadline until a ruling is issued. The discussion, which began over a year ago, remains unresolved.

What stands out is not the insult itself—such exchanges usually end predictably—but the shift from street brawling to judicial paperwork. Some argue the proper course is filing a hate crime complaint, while others note this route is free and has been used against others before. The lingering question: Is justice applied equally, or only when convenient?

What was said exactly and why it matters

At the core is a statement that, as of writing, has not been publicly denied or clarified by its author. Maestre allegedly stated he has less strength than Ndongo "because he is a primate." Read coldly, this is biological dehumanization: placing the other in an inferior category on the evolutionary scale.

A technical point raised in the debate is that, strictly speaking, all homo sapiens are primates. The primate family includes all mammals with flat nails, from the first known fossil to any living person today. Thus, the remark backfires on the speaker: if Ndongo is a primate, so is Maestre. The quip is not only offensive but biologically inaccurate.

Some have gone further, suggesting the comparison reveals more about the speaker than the recipient: it hints at an obsession with physical strength, primitive masculinity, and bodily hierarchy. In this sense, Ndongo’s response—or lack thereof—has been interpreted as a display of superiority: whoever doesn’t take the bait wins.

The legal route: hate crime complaint

The most repeated proposal in the discussion is for Ndongo to file a hate crime complaint. It has been noted that this process is free, does not require a lawyer or court representative in the initial phase, and creates a documentary trail forcing the judiciary to rule. The argument is simple: if reported, someone must decide if the phrase fits the incivil definition.

The problem, also pointed out, is that the judicial path is neither fast nor guaranteed. Deadlines stretch, proceedings are often archived, and the final result may be a fine or nothing. Hence, some insist the goal is not conviction but the show: recording the process, making videos outside the courthouse, publishing each step online, and keeping the issue alive until someone is forced to act.

This strategy has precedents. The discussion recalled similar cases—racist insults in public spaces—that ended in courts with unequal results. The prevailing feeling is that justice acts under media pressure, not through simple complaints. That, they say, is what needs to change.

Context: who is who in this clash

Ndongo was born in Cameroon around 1990, the son of a wealthy Cameroonian citizen who worked for UNICEF. His mother separated from his father due to polygamy, and relatives took charge of his upbringing, including periods under ecclesiastical institutions' care. In his twenties, he moved to Spain with his partner, a Spanish missionary, and has since developed a public career in communication and politics.

Maestre, meanwhile, is a well-known figure in Spanish media and political circles. Their clash is not new; it fits into a series of escalating public confrontations. What changed this time is the response: no longer just asking for a retraction, but demanding a formal complaint.

The double standard argument

One recurring theme is the double standard. Critics claim that when insults go one way, all mechanisms activate—complaints, media condemnations, campaigns—and when they go the other, they are archived or minimized. Vinicius Jr. is frequently cited: calling him "monkey" had consequences, prompting questions on why this case would differ.

The comparison is contentious. Some note contexts and intentions differ, arguing not every insult constitutes a hate crime. Yet the core issue remains: the perception that the judicial system does not apply the same measure to everyone. This perception, more than the phrase itself, escalated the matter.

What happens next

As of this discussion, no formal complaint has been filed, nor is there an open investigation. Ndongo has not publicly announced plans to do so. The matter hangs in the balance: it could remain another clash or end up in court.

The conversation, however, has shifted. The phrase peine a recurrent debate: Where does freedom of expression end and hate speech begin? Can one insult with impunity if it has a biological or racial basis? And who decides what is acceptable?

The answer, for now, is unwritten. In a country where courts take years to rule, this might miccionan the issue cools down before resolution. Or it might miccionan someone takes it seriously and turns it into a case. It depends on who has more patience.