Colonel Tejero's holiday
Simon Courtauld
El Ferrol, Galicia It is rare, to see a foreigner nowadays in this north-western corner of Spain. The pilgrims no longer take the road to Santiago de Compostela, but travel instead to the shrines of the Costa country. To the Galicians the English are remembered as little more than names occurring in history: William the Conqueror, who was offered the kingdom but died before he had time to accept it; John of Gaunt, who invaded these parts in the Middle Ages; Sir Francis Drake, who made raids on the Galician ports; and Sir John Moore, who is still held in affection here fpr his campaign in the Peninsular War and for having died on Spanish soil. His cemetery stands in a garden above the harbour of Corunna , behind the ramparts to which they hurried his corse.
During the long retreat to Corunna , in the middle of winter, Moore's army had to struggle over steeply wooded hills and across moorland covered with broom which was bent before the wind. No wonder that the modern visitor is deterred by this country and climate, which has driven so many Galicians either to emigrate to South America or to work elsewhere in Europe. The land is poor and the agriculture primitive: those who remain cultivate their tiny plots of potatoes, kale and maize, equipped only with oxen for ploughing, a sickle for cutting the hay and an umbrella to protect them from the rain.
Outside the churches in El Ferrol women beg with their children; and several young men stand with banners announcing they are unemployed and asking for alms (which is rather more immediately rewarding than going on a People's March for Jobs). Many of the unemployed have lost their jobs in the shipyards of this port and naval base, situated at the head of a long and sinuous estuary, about ten miles from the open sea. 'If England had a port like this, she would plate it with an armour of silver', William Pitt said of El Ferrol. The English navy made several attempts to seize it in the 18th century, but it remained secure.
The reason for the revival of interest in El Ferrol today has nothing to do with the navy, but rather with the old castle of La Palma, now a prison, which stands on a promontory at the point of a narrow channel halfway between El Ferrol and the sea. It is there that Colonel Antonio Tejero of the Guardia Civil is temporarily resident. Tejero became something of a folk hero as a result of his audacious attempt to take over the Spanish parliament last February. He is now 'in prison awaiting trial', but no date for his trial has been fixed, and the conditions of his imprisonment are anything but harsh. Until last month Tejero was able to receive as many visitors as he wished; now he is officially limited to five a day, but this rule is said to be flexible and there are no restrictions on whom he may see. (When I telephoned the prison to inquire whether the colonel would be willing to talk to a correspondent of an English journal 'of the right' — carefully emphasised — I was asked to wait a moment while he was consulted; the reply came back that he would not.) Since most of Tejero's visitors are officers of the army, the police and his own Guardia Civil— and several of their wives — there is speculation here that he is organising another coup d'etat from his 'prison cell'. It is more than possible that Tejero, with the assistance of so many sympathetic military men in the area, could be `sprung' from his castle. The rumour is that he will soon be moved to a less pregnable fortress on the island of Menorca, but it may be that the colonel would not consent to being transferred.
While he enjoys his privileged status in La Palma Tejero is also able to write an article defending his patriotism for the monarchist daily ABC, and to sue another newspaper for comparing him with the terrorists of ETA. It may be that after the rather absurd television spectacle of his failure to take over the government, not many people will take him seriously again. But there was no doubt about the seriousness of the plot which led to the events of 23 February. And the continuing power and influence of the armed forces, and the judiciary, in Spain cannot be overstated. Not only are the senior positions held by those who remain loyal to Franco's memory, but the people responsible for appointing the officers to succeed them are also Francoist.
It is for this reason that the government, and the king, permit — or are powerless to prevent — the indulgence shown to the likes of Colonel Tejero. The two generals who plotted the coup, Alfonso Armada and Milans del Bosch, are also in detention but it is by no means certain that they will be brought to trial. The government believes that to deal too severely now with the plotters of 23 February would only incite further rebellion in the armed forces. The danger is that the present policy will have the same effect.
But this is not 1936; Spain has a king who is both head of the army and of the democratic system which he brought into being. There is no popular support for a return to military dictatorship. In many ways El Ferrol illustrates, in extreme form, the dichotomy of Spain. The town has a population largely divided between the armed forces and the industrial workers of the naval dockyards. Felipe Gonzalez's Socialist Workers' Party (PSOE) enjoys considerable support here. Mugardos, the town nearest to Tejero's fortress, has a communist mayor. El Ferrol is the birthplace of Franco, and also of Pablo Iglesias, the founder of Spanish socialism.
Along a wall in the Avenida Generalissimo Franco there is scrawled a most illuminating graffito: Ni Tejero ni OTAN (NATO). The majority of Spaniards do not want to be called again to join another glorious crusade against the system of democracy, which they have come to accept. But equally they are not ready to join a comity of nations, whether in the form of the military alliance of NATO or the economic partnership of the Common Market. (It is only the Mediterranean farmers who look forward to joining the EEC; there will be no benefits for Atlantic agriculture.) For all that has happened in the last five years the Spanish people are as yet unaccustomed to the modern ways of western Europe; they are introspective and still prefer isolation. The government is pressing for membership of the EEC and of NATO, but without the positive backing of the people. It is not only the PSOE and the Communist Party which oppose entry into NATO, but a substantial element of the armed forces as well. The fear is that the security of Spain will be put at risk, that her foreign policy and sovereignty will be compromised. ,It is not necessarily convine ing, but it is expressed with great conviction.
It may be significant that the man who is guiding the country through these difficult times, Leopoldo CaIvo Sotelo, is a Galician. (So was the prime minister in 1936, Santiago Casares Quiroga, when the Galician Franco rose against the government.) Why does this part of Spain breed men to become leaders? It is not that the Galicians are interested in politics — just the reverse. When they voted for autonomy last December (there is due to be a regional parliament, sitting in Santiago, from next, October) 75 per cent did not bother to vote; but this is not surprising as two thirds of the population are barely literate.
The reason is rather to be found in the spirit of the people and the topography of Galicia. The Spanish qualities of alma and casticismo (inadequately translated as 'soul' and 'purity/integrity') seem here to be sharply defined. Perhaps it is partly due to the fact that the Galicians have not suffered greatly from war and invasion — the Moors spent little time here; and in 1936 Galicia fell quickly to the Nationalists — and because of the harsh and uncompromising nature of their country. This produced in Franco an iron will and inflexibility which — the Galicians enjoy recalling — even got the better of Hitler. At their only meeting, after arguing with Franco for most of the day, Hitler was said to have told Mussolini: 'I would prefer to have four teeth taken out rather than go through that again.' Without in any way wishing for another Franco to govern Spain, it is reasonable to hope that the best elements of the Galician spirit will be so mixed in Calvo Sotelo that he may be the man successfully to resist any more threats to Spain's fragile democracy.
Previous page
