Saint or Slayer? The Two Faces of Santiago in Oviedo
- kweiquartey
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
The Camino Primitivo Begins in Oviedo
Walking through Oviedo, you’ll notice bronze scallop shells set into the pavement. These markers signal the start of the Camino Primitivo, the oldest Camino de Santiago route, dating back to the 9th century. Pilgrims have followed these shells for over a thousand years on their way to Santiago de Compostela. The scallop shell symbolizes humility, simplicity, and the shared journey. This Santiago represents humility, faith, and peace. The Camino was never meant as a march to war, but as a journey inward.
Santiago the Pilgrim: A Peaceful Guide
Statues in Oviedo, such as the Santiago Peregrino sculpture in La Florida, show him as a humble companion for pilgrims. At first glance, Santiago—the Spanish name for St. James the Apostle—appears as a peaceful pilgrim: wide-brimmed hat, cloak, staff, and shell, walking beside travelers.
The shell markers on the street remind us of the Camino’s spiritual roots: a journey of penance and reflection.
A figure meant to inspire, not to conquer.
In 1987, the Camino, involving multiple routes in Spain, France, and Portugal, was declared the first Cultural Route of the Council of Europe. Since 2013, the Camino has drawn more than 200,000 pilgrims every year, with an annual growth rate of more than 10 percent. Pilgrims come mainly on foot and often from nearby cities, requiring several days of walking to reach Santiago.
Santiago Matamoros: From Saint to Slayer
Yet in Oviedo, another Santiago stares back. In the Iglesia de La Manjoya, he appears not as a pilgrim but as Santiago Matamoros—“the Moor-slayer.” Sword raised, horse trampling Muslims, he is recast as a warrior-saint.
The absurdity is glaring: St. James was executed in Jerusalem in 44 AD (as described in Acts 12:2), centuries before Islam even existed. He could never have fought Muslims. And yet, this image survives. Why?
Misappropriating Faith to Justify War
During the Reconquista, Christian Spain needed a divine champion. Churches became propaganda halls, and holy figures were misappropriated to legitimize violence.
Santiago was transformed into a crusader, drafted into battles he never fought. He went from saint to slayer.
His name was invoked to bless wars, persecutions, and conquests.
The peaceful apostle was cynically weaponized—his image twisted to justify bloodshed.
This is more than history; it is a cautionary tale of how religion is bent to political ends.
Oviedo: A City of Contradiction
In one city, both images coexist:
🐚 The Pilgrim Santiago — humble and peaceful.
⚔️ Santiago Matamoros — violent and vengeful.
The contrast exposes how shamelessly holy figures can be exploited. In Oviedo, you can see both sides in stone and bronze: the saint who walks beside you, and the slayer conjured to trample others.
The Lesson of Two Santiagos
Today, pilgrims on the Camino Primitivo follow scallop shells westward. You don’t need a guidebook to spot them in Oviedo—backpacks strapped tight, scallop shells dangling, trekking poles clicking on the pavement. They may look modern, but their footsteps trace a route first walked over a thousand years ago.
They follow the pilgrim, not the warrior. Yet the Matamoros image survives as a reminder of how belief can be twisted—how even apostles can be hijacked for power.
Next time you spot a shell in the pavement, remember: the Camino was meant for peace. The warrior-saint is nothing but politics dressed as faith.
(All images by Kwei Quartey unless otherwise stated)
Be sure to follow me on Instagram, @kweiquarteyauthor
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