In an interview with the El País, Franco-Moroccan writer Leila Slimani has offered a striking reflection on culture, politics and the state of global discourse while spending several weeks in Madrid as part of a residency at the Museo del Prado. The experience, she explains, has become more than an artistic retreat; it is a lens through which she interprets contemporary anxieties. Wandering through the museum’s halls and studying masterpieces by Goya and Velázquez, Slimani sees not only historical grandeur but also unsettling echoes of today’s world. In the darkness of Goya’s Black Paintings, she even perceives modern political figures such as Elon Musk and Donald Trump, reimagined as symbolic figures of chaos and manipulation. For her, the Prado is not an escape from reality but a place that reveals it more clearly.
Slimani describes the Prado as a universal space that transcends language, nationality and ideology. It is, she says, a museum that speaks to everyone, whether they arrive from Europe, Africa, Asia or the Americas. What fascinates her most is how the institution becomes a shared point of pride across political divides, a rare space where disagreement does not prevent collective admiration. In a fragmented world, she argues, such cultural institutions are essential precisely because they offer a sense of common belonging. This universality, she suggests, stands in sharp contrast to the growing polarization outside its walls.
Inside the museum, Slimani reads the paintings as mirrors of contemporary existence. Goya, in her interpretation, speaks of violence and human stupidity, while Velázquez reveals the structures of power and hierarchy. Zurbarán evokes war, and Rubens explores desire, divinity and bodily presence. These works, she insists, are not locked in the past; they actively comment on the present. Standing before them, she feels they answer questions that still torment modern societies. At the same time, she experiences a sense of melancholy when observing the painstaking work of restorers. Seeing radiographic images of paintings and the fragile processes that preserve them, she becomes aware of what she calls a disappearing relationship with patience, craftsmanship and transcendence.
This reflection leads her to a broader critique of contemporary cultural and political life. Slimani argues that beauty itself is under threat not because it no longer exists, but because its place in society is being undermined. Populist figures and movements, she warns, often dismiss art and intellectual culture as elitist or irrelevant, reducing value to virality and profit. According to her, this logic weakens societies by discouraging education, nuance and complexity. Institutions like the Prado, she insists, resist this trend by remaining open to everyone, from schoolchildren to retirees. She warns that political forces such as Donald Trump or Vladimir Putin seek to limit access to knowledge precisely because an uninformed population is easier to control.
Her time in Madrid has also reshaped her personal reflections on place and belonging. Having previously left Paris for Lisbon, where she once described the French capital as “too beautiful, too big, too harsh,” Slimani now expresses admiration for Madrid’s vitality. She portrays the Spanish capital as a city marked by joy, balance and social connection, where family life, public space and cultural energy coexist naturally. While acknowledging debates around tourism and urban pressure, she rejects simplistic critiques, arguing that mobility and travel are part of a more interconnected world. For her, the challenge is not to exclude visitors but to create systems that make cities livable for both residents and guests.
Slimani’s creative work continues to expand beyond literature. Having completed her acclaimed trilogy “The Country of Others,” she is now engaged in adapting her writing for television and theatre, including work inspired by Tolstoy. Yet she admits that her future path remains open and undefined. More pressing for her is a broader concern about the direction of the world itself. She describes Western societies as going through a period of decline and uncertainty, particularly for those who once saw them as models of democratic progress and cultural enlightenment. At the same time, she believes a technological and artificial intelligence revolution is approaching, one that will raise profound questions about humanity’s future over the next fifty years.
Her reflections extend to identity politics in France, a subject she believes has been distorted by political manipulation. In her view, immigration, globalization and cultural mixing have fundamentally transformed national identity, making older definitions obsolete. Rather than resisting this change, she argues, societies must learn to understand it with nuance and humanism. She criticizes political discourse that treats identity as a fixed and weaponized concept, suggesting instead that integration should be based on reciprocity and mutual recognition. For her, asking newcomers to love a country without ensuring that the country also embraces them is a contradiction that fuels resentment.
Slimani also observes a growing polarization in European societies. She does not believe intolerance is necessarily more widespread than in the past, but she does see a rise in radicalization on both ends of the spectrum. Social media, she argues, has intensified extremes by creating isolated informational “silos” where people no longer engage with opposing views. This fragmentation, she suggests, weakens democratic dialogue and deepens mistrust between groups. Even so, she insists there are also more open and tolerant individuals than in previous generations, creating a complex and uneven social landscape.
At the heart of her philosophy is a personal mission she describes as a struggle against stupidity, beginning with herself. “My pen is my weapon,” she says, emphasizing that writing is for her a form of intellectual resistance. The true battle, however, is not against others but against the human desire for certainty. Slimani warns that contemporary society is increasingly obsessed with being right, leaving little room for doubt or conversation. This fixation, she argues, erodes the possibility of dialogue and weakens social cohesion. Against this trend, she defends complexity, ambiguity and the willingness to be surprised. Without these qualities, she concludes, living together in society will become increasingly difficult.
