
Last week in the Valley of the Fallen, General Franco rose from the dead. Posthumously of course, and with the aid of forensic specialists, a priest, and family members there for the historic exhumation of the country’s infamous and polemic autocrat. While Franco’s death in 1975 and the ensuing democratic transition of the country occurred almost a half century ago, the legal case for exhumation only made it to the Supreme Court on the heels of Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez’s Socialist victory in 2018. It is not surprising that a country which could not escape Franco’s grip in life was only able to unify into a democratic member of the European Union until after his demise. And yet, on October 14th, as my flight arrived in Barcelona’s El Prat Airport amidst riot shields, smoke bombs, and students wrapped in colorful Senyera flags, my image of a unified democratic Spain began to splinter and warp.
Following the Supreme Court’s decision to give prominent leaders of the 2017 independence referendum heavy jail sentences, 10,000 Catalan protesters swarmed the airport, leading to hundreds of cancelled flights, the deployment of Guardia Civil national riot police, and several skirmishes involving rubber bullets and street fires. Despite a ban on rubber bullets enacted by the Catalan Parliament in 2014, at least one protester lost an eye during the clashes. Citizens young and old rallied over messaging apps under the anonymous “Tsunami Democratic” banner to protest inordinate charges of sedition levied against political leaders such as Catalonia’s former Vice President, Oriol Junqueras, who received 13 years in prison for his role in the independence referendum. Concerns over territorial integrity, voter turnout, and economic impacts aside, the ruling ultimately comes across as an ugly and unilateral repression of democratic expression, peaceful demonstration, and regional autonomy.
Across all eras and regions, domestic conflicts always require concessions to heal wounds and work towards peaceful unity. It is never easy to rebuild after civil war, and some divisions take centuries to see even minimal progress towards understanding and cooperation. That being said, the 1977 Amnesty Law passed to aid democratic unification following Franco’s death hampered any chance at healing or understanding for decades. The law prohibits investigation or trials for crimes that took place under the authoritarian regime and during the Spanish Civil War, and it was only with the Memory Law of 2007 that legal changes allowed relatives of the “disappeared” to search for their remains and attempt to officially remember the past. Even so, shifting political support has undermined efforts to the point that Dolores Delgado, the newly appointed Justice Minister, estimates that Spain is second only to Cambodia in terms of missing remains.
Poor access to government archives and undocumented summary executions make reliable estimates difficult, yet it is clear that as many as 150,000 Spaniards were murdered and buried in unmarked mass graves during the civil war and dictatorship. While around 740 mass graves have been exhumed since 2000, when efforts began in earnest, experts estimate that around 2,500 of the more than 3,000 graves remain untouched and contain approximately 114,000 victims. The Valley of the Fallen is one of the largest remaining mass graves in Europe, with an estimated 33, 833 dead contained within its tombs and basilica. Around 18,000 of those are Republican victims moved to the city of the dead without their relatives’ knowledge. While the new law has allowed many to investigate the fates of loved ones and attempt to find solace and dignity for their remains, the onus is placed upon relatives to begin the process and regional authorities are often difficult to work with or deny access to their records.

On the day of the exhumation, Prime Minister Sanchez remarked, “Today, Spain is fulfilling its duty to itself”. Exhuming Franco is a powerful moment for Spain and a valuable symbol for the Socialist party, yet without true democracy and freedom of expression, it is at best a hollow gesture, and at worst, political whitewashing. The symbolism evoked by police suppression calls to mind the fall of Barcelona to Nationalist forces in 1939, which ushered in decades of terror and political repression. With general elections looming on November 10th, many have accused Sanchez of using “necro-politics” to distract from the Catalan protests and a divided electorate. Sanchez and the Supreme Court must continue to work for further education and understanding of the country’s tragic past for this moment to become a watershed for lasting change instead of mere political currency during an election year.

