Spanish Bombs: Fascist Weaponisation of Historical Memory

Joe Reynolds

On the 24th of October 2019, the remains of Francisco Franco were quietly exhumed from a grave in the Valley of the Fallen, his resting place since 1975. The construction of the site was ordered by Franco himself, a monument to those who perished from both factions of the Spanish Civil War. While the fascist governments of the Axis powers were forcibly removed, their constitutions re-written and their states re-organised according to the wishes of the victorious Allies, Francoist Spain lingered on as a fascist remnant on the edge of Europe, overlooked by its democratic allies in an attempt to stem the popular communist movements sweeping Europe. Upon Franco’s death, Spain transitioned into a liberal democratic system, and subsequent governments have slowly begun dealing with the legacy of Francoist rule. The ‘Historical Memory Law’ was passed in 2007 by a Socialist government, one of its provisions being the removal of Francoist symbols from public buildings and spaces. In the period after Franco’s death, the far-right had enjoyed limited electoral success, until this year, where the most recent election has placed the far-right Vox party in third position. The memory of fascism and Franco is fading even here, and his grave has remained a focal point of far-right memory. On the anniversary of his death, groups make their annual pilgrimage to his tomb to pay respects to a man who they see as a political and moral beacon for modern Spain. In moving Franco’s body to a small cemetery North of Madrid, the Spanish government confronts a problem growing across the Western World: the rise of nostalgia.

Nostalgia was initially coined by a Swiss doctor during his tenure treating mercenaries and was diagnosed as a painful longing for

one’s homeland. Today, it is commonly used to describe a temporal longing rather than a spatial one, a desire to return to a previous era. The Western World is no stranger to crises, whether they be political, economic or social. However, in recent years, sentiments of discontent and disillusionment appear to be gripping it. A profound sense of malaise and a distrust of democratic institutions have led to rising populist movements, their hallmark being a ‘return to the past’ rather than any coherent ideology. While these movements appear to be flimsy and fluid, their strength lies in their ability to assemble a coalition of the dissatisfied. Those who believe their country is in decline rally to these ideas, with the slogan ‘Make America Great Again’ being the starkest example. This phrase has recurred previously throughout American history, also being used by Reagan in his 1980 presidential campaign. The idea extends to a more complex set of sentiments, not only one of national and economic decline, but also a perceived social and moral decline. In the UK, a Demos study reported that 63% of British Citizens believe life was better when they were growing up than currently, compared with 21% that believed life was better now. Discourse surrounding Brexit, especially with older demographics, returns to a vague sentiment of ‘the good old days’, a murky half-memory of how things used to be. Often these memories are temporally incongruent, belonging to no one specific era or point in time, but instead a hazy reminiscence of a better society.

The true danger of nostalgia lies in its power to obscure our own histories. To be blinded by it allows us to forget truths that should not be forgotten. Germany, the country in which fascism took one of its strongest grips, has

spent the 70 some years after its defeat in the Second World War acknowledging its crimes and atrocities, and educating the next generations in the hope of preventing another catastrophe. One of the greatest powers of the Nazi regime was its control over the aesthetic modes in Germany. Walter Benjamin described the aestheticization of politics as a key indicator of a fascist movement, and the Nazi regime suppressed new musical waves such as jazz, atonal music and pieces written by Jewish composers. Modern art was also banned and removed from museums, decried as an insult to the ‘German feeling’ and labelled as degenerate. The State Bureau of Culture was established to tightly restrict art and culture, and in doing so allowed the Nazi state to manufacture a new history and instil a new nostalgia. By creating the mythos of the glorious German past and contrasting it with the grim social realities of the post Great War era, the Nazis could construct a narrative of a lost future. The people were angry about an ideal past being stolen from them, despite it never having existed in the first place.

landscape, people are increasingly looking towards the past for answers. It is these nostalgic reactions to late modernity, such as the recycling of previous cultural motifs and aesthetics that are trapping us in a form of anterograde amnesia, unable to imagine and construct new societal forms. According to Fukuyama, the fall of the Soviet Union heralded the End of History, the victory of Western liberalism over communism. Yet the promises of the end of the Cold War have failed to materialise, and with it, the Western intellectual elite have failed to imagine a better future.

And now, in the infant years of the 2020s, far-right movements continue to rear their heads across Europe and the World. Last November, the city of Dresden declared a ‘Nazi emergency’ in response to increased Neo-Nazi activity. The coup in Bolivia has left indigenous rights in jeopardy. Far-right parties have enjoyed renewed electoral success across Europe and the Americas. Though it is difficult to suggest a cure to this paralysis, we must continue to struggle against submission to nostalgia. Politicians need to address increasing inequality and clamp down on the super-rich, while connecting with voters on a deeper emotional level. Historical education must be strengthened to ensure the past remains clear and the virtues of tolerance upheld. Perhaps in this decade, a new generation will come forth and propose change that will radically alter our society, just as Marx did a century and a half prior. The ultimate victory against nostalgia comes from a vision of a new and better future.

On 31st May 2020, President Donald Trump declared Anti-Fascist Action a terrorist organisation.