The Portuguese Bakery is not from Aljubarrota

Not even a week has passed since various political forces and public figures reminded us, with inflamed pride, that “from Spain, neither good wind nor good electricity”, and now one of the greatest symbols of national pastry modernity is… sold to the Spanish.

If José Diogo Quintela were still playing Gato Fedorento, he might have resurrected a contemporary version of Nun'Álvares Pereira in sketch form , sword in hand, to defend the honour of Padaria Portuguesa, now in Castilian hands. Or maybe not. Because, contrary to what some nationalist romantics try to paint, the post-1st December 1640 generation – and even more so this Erasmus generation – looks at Spain with less warlike and more pragmatic, more commercial and less medieval eyes. Yes, the sale of Padaria Portuguesa to a Spanish group may have shocked some weekend patriots, but the truth is that times have changed.

We live in a European Union of integrated markets where investments cross borders like custard tarts cross shop windows around the world. And what motivated the purchase of the Padaria was certainly not an attempt at Iberian cultural domination by the Spanish, but rather the recognition of its commercial value – of its Portuguese products, its urban concept and its promising and necessary expansion. Because, contrary to what the name might suggest, Padaria Portuguesa is above all Lisbon-based. With 76 stores in greater Lisbon, six in greater Porto and only two south of the Tagus, its apparently national name is more an intention than a true flag.

Something very similar is happening with Transportes Aéreos Portugueses (TAP), which presents itself as a national airline, but whose centre of operations and interests remain fiercely centred in Lisbon: Lisbon has 85 TAP routes, Porto has 12 and Faro only one.

However, unlike Padaria – sold between private parties –, TAP is trapped in the narrative of national sovereignty, caravels and other manipulative political arguments that compare a hypothetical sale described as “to Iberia” to a reconstruction of a new siege from 1385. It is important to be aware that the main issue here should be mobility and that while in Portugal people are speaking out against a “Spanish threat” and with a political discourse of “TAP is ours, it guarantees our territorial cohesion, the connection to communities and tourism”, in Spain the aviation sector is flourishing with seven airlines providing connections from the Peninsula to the Canary and Balearic Islands. And with half a dozen Spanish options for various routes to Latin America, without the Spanish State having to own or directly manage a single one of these airlines.

Here, we insist on state guardianship as if it were synonymous with national security, when, in practice, this has meant less competitiveness, fewer connections, fewer alternatives for passengers and greater dependence on the State for several connections.

If our “essential connections” are confined to the four companies owned by the Portuguese State, if we continue without maritime passenger connections between the mainland and the islands and if we leave mobility hostage to politics, then the real problem is not Spanish capital, but rather the statist and paralyzing Portuguese vision.

At the end of the day, it is important to ask: what is hiding behind this fear of the Spanish people and who does it belong to? Is it the taxpayers, who have been covering up the gaps in the four state-owned airlines for years? Is it the passengers, who pay dearly due to the limited supply? Is it the customers of Padaria Portuguesa, who just want their "bread of God" fresh out of the oven? Or is this fear simply a reflection of what politicians know happens when they lose the power that comes from any relationship of dependence that they manage to perpetuate?

Professor of Transportation Systems and consultant in aviation, airports and tourism