This is How it Works
Orderly protesters in the Madrid metro
March 2007
This is how it works,
You're young until your not,
You live until you're done,
You try until you can't.
- Regina Spektor
My brother and father-in-law went to Madrid two weekends ago to march against the Government's release of de Juana, an ETA member guilty of killing 25 people in terrorist attacks. He has been on hunger strike wanting to carry out the remainder of his sentence at home. His health reached such a delicate state that his organs were about to shut down; the Government were against the wall.
In a mixture of humanitarian clemency, to bring the Basque Independence Movement's political arm back into negotiations and to stop the creation of a martyr, the Zapatero government released him to protest and increasing political division. Spain has endured terrorist acts for over thirty years. The number of victims reaches into the thousands. I can remember watching my brother-in-law's face many years ago as we watched coverage of a bomb attack that had taken the life of a policeman, he's a security guard. His face was ashen with despair and hate.
The weekend of the protest, I was staying in Madrid with Geoff Ward, our Ambassador in Spain. The plan was to hit the galleries but when people march in Spain, they can march into the millions. Waves of people walked with their flags, their dogs and kids towards the centre with signs saying "Not in my name Zapatero". In the metro, I struggled against the tide of marchers heading the other way. Those who were in support of the Government had obviously stayed home that day.
Relieved to be back at the apartment, I tried to work out my own feelings about the situation. Geoff had naturally been following the case carefully and pointed out that the guy had served his sentence and these remaining three years were for other offences. But the fact remained; the case was enmeshed in historical injustices and geo-politics. As Geoff put it, Spain may not be fighting its civil war any longer, but it is still arguing it.
What do you do with a civil war? In New Zealand there isn't a town that doesn't have its memorial to those who fought in the world wars, yet as James Belich argues in his documentary series, we forget the New Zealand (civil) Wars. Last Sunday, while out in the hills walking, we stopped at a village for refreshments. It was around siesta time and the place was deserted. I got to poking about like I used to do when I was idle and twelve and lost in the streets of Palmerston North. An angel head popping up from a high white wall caught my eye and, scrambling up to peek over, I found a long sepulchre, walled off, discarded and overgrown, with no visible entrance. It was dated 5 August 1936, two months into the civil war. There were about seventy names. Who knows where others were buried and against what wall of this village they were shot. The hills here are full of unmarked graves and stories of repressive madness.
Another thing happened that weekend in Madrid. It was the unveiling of the memorial for the victims of 11th March 2004, when bombers blew up four carriages of morning trains heading into the city centre. The trial of the accused terrorists is underway now as the country reflects on the four year anniversary of the invasion of Iraq in which it took an active if unwilling part. The result was an attack on its people at home and the 600,000 dead (and growing) Iraqis, the thousands of wounded, thousands of refugees and a festering civil war.
Out walking and enjoying the soft warmth of a spring afternoon, I see the local family of black, stray cats are sitting on the bonnet of black a BMW. The toms have sprayed the wheels and the place smells rank. But I can also smell the scent of the azahar, the orange blossom, heralding spring and a year since I arrived. There is a dog pulling at his lead because he wants to sniff something, but it is just out of reach. While it is physically impossible, the dog is eternally hopeful of defying physics and will keep on pulling.
Post Script August 2007: An acquaintance who is an historian specialising in Falange (A right wing movement in Spain) has recently told me that those victims were imprisoned Franco supporters, who were taken out, lined up and executed in the face of Franco's advance on the village.