Why did I ever take French instead of Spanish in high school and college?? I pondered this yet again as our train chugged past hilltop villages whose names I could not pronounce, through endless olive groves on our way from Madrid to the coast of southern Spain. My attempt to buy train tickets at the Atocha station ended comically, with me having to write down my request for tickets to Cadiz after numerous tries in Spanish. I said it like it was spelled, and the blank stare elicited indicated a problem. " Ah, Gadeeth, GADEETH!", I was semi-scolded by the station agent.
Spain was one of those countries whose recent history I knew shockingly little about, considering I was a Fine Arts major. Guide books helped, and while reading about Grenada and Alhambra, I discovered one of my favorite writers, Federico Garcia Lorca was from this region.
In Spain, the dead are more alive than the dead of any other country in the world. Federico Garcia Lorca
http://thinkexist.com/... Prescient words from the writer who was to be an early casualty of the Spanish Civil War.
Intellectuals were considered dangerous by Franco's Nationalists, and in the early morning of August 19, 1936, along with a schoolmaster and two bullfighters, Lorca was dragged into a field at the foot of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, shot, and thrown into an unmarked grave.
Lorca's writings were outlawed and burned in Granada's Plaza del Carmen. Even his name was forbidden. The young poet quickly became a martyr, an international symbol of the politically oppressed, but his plays were not revived until the 1940's, and certain bans on his work remained in place until as late as 1971. Today, Lorca is considered the greatest Spanish poet and dramatist of the 20th Century.
Curious about the rise of Fascism in Spain, I want to know more about the intellectuals and artists who fought the military, the church, the monarchists, and the bloody Civil War that resulted in the deaths of some 600,000 Spaniards (due to all causes).
The Spanish Civil War(1936-39), was a military revolt against the (democratically elected) Republican government of Spain, supported by conservative elements within the country. When an initial military coup failed to win control of the entire country, a bloody civil war ensued, fought with great ferocity on both sides. The war was an outcome of a polarization of Spanish life and politics that had developed over previous decades. On one side, the Nationalists, were most of the Roman Catholic Church, the military, most landowners, and many businessmen. On the other side, the Republicans, were urban workers, most agricultural laborers, artists, writers, educated middle classes..
We had a few hours before our train left Madrid, so we wandered over to the Reina Sofia Museum located across the street from the Atocha train station, where in 2004, Al Qaeda-linked terrorist bombs killed 190 subway riders, and injured 1800 others. Security was tighter than normal at the station, probably due to the Moscow subway bombings that had taken place earlier that day.
The big draw at the Sofia is Pablo Picasso's "Guernica". I had seen the painting on a college art trip to New York in the late 70's. Picasso would not allow his masterwork to be shown in Spain until there was democratic rule, so it hung at the Modern Museum of Art in NYC until Franco's death, when the painting moved back to Spain.Guernica is currently displayed in a gallery along with other paintings and photographs by Spanish artists from the Spanish Civil War era. Wandering through the exhibit I became aware of how pertinent and current this history lesson was; how ignorant most Americans are about the rise of Fascism in Europe, how quickly the worst elements of human nature become activated when times are bad, how easily the angry and fearful can be manipulated by the powers that be...
Spain after the repressive Franco years, is a heady, intoxicating place, the air scented by impossibly sweet orange blossoms, the plazas in the towns filled with people eating and drinking at cafes throughout the day and dancing at clubs all night. Since Franco died in 1975, there is a lively, youthful energy, and the people never seem to sleep. I had heard the phrase "party like a Spaniard", and now I understood. Unemployment is high, cost of living is high, but the mood is good. Two weeks is enough time to get only a small taste, a general impression, a condensed version of life there.
Riding the train from Madrid to Andalucia, I see acres of olive groves and orange trees growing on soil fought over since before the Phoenicians settled there in 1000 BC. I was experiencing sensory overload viewing the relics and remnants of past civilizations. Phoenician ruins are underneath Roman ruins, on top of which Arabic mosques and baths were built during the Moors' 700 year rule; mosques that were torn down or turned into Romanesque then Gothic cathedrals after the Moors and Jews were run out of the country by Isabella and Ferdinand, yes, in 1492. This land-grab provided the money to fund Christopher Columbus's voyages.
If any history can be called blood-soaked, Spain would definitely qualify. To the victors went the spoils, and the defeated became slave labor, or were assimilated, or killed, some left for other lands, but they still haunt the place; a piece of Roman aquaduct here, a ghost image of Islamic design on a door there.. You can feel the power the Catholic Church wielded in the days of the Conquest and Inquisition, by simply walking into any plaza in the country, sticking your head inside the dazzling gold palaces, aka the Cathedrals, overflowing with blinding, gilded treasure. Heartbreakingly beautiful artwork, magnificent architecture were funded by gold percured with the blood and sweat of untold numbers of the vanquished.
We travel to Ronda, an impossibly gorgeous town, where we wake up to roosters crowing at our small hotel located next to ruins of Arabic baths dating from 700 AD. We see Earnest Hemingway's photograph in many of bars and cafes, not unlike in Key West..."Earnest drank here", and are reminded that his novel For Whom the Bell Tolls, was based on his experiences during the Spanish Civil War, in part in Ronda. In the novel, the American Robert Jordan is asked by a Spaniard '
But are there not many fascists in your country? There are many who do not know they are fascists but will find it out when the time comes. Earnest Hemingway. For Whom the Bell Tolls
I can't help but think of recent events in the US, the angry faces of the Tea Party, the rise of disturbing neo-fascist rumblings, echoes of the devastating events of Europe in the 1930's. Are we doomed to repeat history?Those yearning for 'civil war' would do well to open up a history book, look at the photos, see some video of what the destruction and horror of civil war really looks like.
While we are in Europe, health care reform passes, and the news is trumpeted in the headlines of all the European newspapers. Europe likes us again, but still doesn't understand the anger of the right and those who don't want health care for all. The Spaniards I met love Obama, don't necessarily follow all the details of the issues, but feel relieved that he is our president. They really, really still hate 'Bush", the mention of his name elicits scowls; I imagine it will take years to undo the international damage wrought by his presidency.
Paco, my daughter's friend, a handsome young Valencian who rides a motorcycle, cooks a great paella, and quotes Pulp Fiction, tells me his grandfather lost 8 of his nine brothers in the Spanish Civil War, but he has forgiven the perpetrators. Paco tells me he cried the night Obama was elected. Small world; so did I.