Franco's Legacy

The Cine Doré is projecting a series of documentary films under the title “Imágenes contra el olvido” [Images against Amnesia], which are all dedicated to the recuperation of repressed memories of the Spanish Civil War and the ensuing forty year Franco dictatorship. Last night we went to see a film called, “Presos del silencio,” which is about the construction of the canal on the lower Guadalquivir river near Sevilla, now known officially as the “Canal de los Presos” [Prisoners’ Canal] because it was constructed entirely by 10,000 Spanish political prisoners. It was one of the biggest public works projects undertaken during the dictatorship. Many of Franco’s public works projects were completed by political prisoners who were often given the opportunity to do forced labor in exchange for the commutation of their sentences. Franco’s regime took advantage of this kind of free labor wherever it could, and in the official newsreels these projects were described as opportunities for the “reds” to reconstruct the Spain that they had destroyed. The fact that Franco and the military (with the explicit blessings of the catholic church) had in fact rebelled against the Republic that had been democratically elected by the Spanish people never made it into any official account of the civil war. Instead, Franco carefully depicted his historical role as a paternal figure who saved Spain from the communists and thus restored its imperial grandeur. The Valle de los Caídos [Valley of the Fallen], a fascist monument devoted to “all those who have fallen for Spain” (except, of course, those who died for the republican cause), offers a graphic representation of how Franco saw himself. While tens of thousands of prisoners of war were executed and dumped into mass graves, Franco is now buried in a massive mausoleum that was built underneath an enormous cross. The entire monument was built by Spanish political prisoners.

During the forty years of Franco’s dictatorship all competing accounts of Spanish history were suppressed through the imposition of state sponsored censorship. It is only during the last ten years or so that documentary filmmakers have begun to make films about the experiences of the losing side of the Spanish civil war. A lot of these films are being shown this month at the Cine Doré.

Something interesting happened while we were watching last night’s documentary. There was an older couple in the audience who were clearly in favor of Franco’s version of events, and consequently dedicated themselves to making disparaging comments throughout the film. Sort of like Mystery Science Theater 3000, only for retrograde octogenarian right-wing fascists. The 15 or so people that were in the audience kept shushing them and asking them to please keep it to themselves, because every time someone on screen would say something about how hard it was to either work under slave-like conditions in the construction of the Guadalquivir canal system, or to live in a pueblo among the very same neighbors who informed on your husband and insulted your children because they were the offspring of “rojos,” this terrible couple would make loud snide comments to each other. An usher was forced to come in and sit in their row to discourage them from talking back to the screen. So for the last half hour, this lady was content to just sigh loudly whenever she didn’t agree with something in the film. And when Franco would appear on screen, or if there was a clip showing the political prisoners kneeling in front of their captors, or if a a fascist procession appeared, the old man would say things like, “Eso!” (which is essentially a way to say, “That’s what I’m talking about!”) It's amazing how horrible these nostalgic Francoists are, and how these deep divisions in Spanish society have continued to exist for 70 years and more. What we couldn’t understand is why these people don’t just stay home and watch the old newsreels. After all, Franco and his regime got to tell the “official” history for 40 years. Let’s at least have some variety.