20 Years After

On a mountain 28 miles northwest of Madrid last week assembled the flower of Franco Spain--Cabinet ministers, generals, admirals, all of the nation's four cardinals, 37 of its bishops, six mitered abbots, and the Papal Nuncio. Occasion for this august gathering: the dedication of the Valley of the Fallen, the striking $12 million monument to Spain's Civil War dead that workmen have been hewing out of solid rock since 1941 (TIME color, Jan. 26). By no coincidence, it was also the anniversary of the day in 1939 when the last pockets of Republican resistance collapsed in Madrid. Now, 20 years after he proclaimed himself ruler of Spain, "responsible only to God and history," Generalissimo Francisco Franco, 66, was ready to offer a partial accounting for his stewardship.

"Our victory," said Franco, "was a victory of the unity of the Spanish people." There was, he conceded, some continuing discontent with his regime: "The anti-Spain was beaten and broken, but it is not dead. Periodically, we see it raise its head from abroad and in its arrogance and blindness try to poison and inflame anew the innate curiosity and passion of the young for novelties." But in fact, he said, no real grounds for discontent exist. "The perfection of social rights in our country is a reality. The lead Spain has over other people in this is extraordinary." And economically, "the real fact is that in these 20 years Spain has known an economic development without precedent in its history . . ."

P for Protest. Had he chosen, Franco could have made at least one valid boast. From the political doghouse to which it was banished along with Franco's erstwhile friends, the Nazis and Fascists, Spain is step by step returning to the community of nations. Franco's anti-Communism and his nation's strategic peninsular location have brought him an alliance with the U.S.

But the unity of which the generalissimo is so proud is not as solid as it might be. Despite his plea for "national reconciliation," not one former Republican has yet consented to the reburial of a relative in the Valley of the Fallen. And the discontent that he deprecates is far more than the innate curiosity and passion of the young for novelties. The bulk of Spain's people--including many of Franco's own supporters--are restive. They would like to form political parties other than Franco's moribund Falange, and they already operate underground parties. In the past fortnight the black letter P has appeared on the walls of Barcelona. It stands for protesto, and was put there by Catholics who want the right to organize a public Christian Democratic Party.

In today's Spain it is fashionable to declare how much one hates Franco. Yet, curiously enough, the very people who deride the generalissimo live in terror of his death. Ostensibly, Franco is paving the way for a restoration of Spain's old Bourbon monarchy once he himself disappears from the scene, and virtually all Spaniards, save the Communists, pay lip service to this plan. Yet in Spain's cafes, Franco's followers and foes whisper of the day after his death in another vein. Fearfully, they predict: "Back to the streets with pistols."

Better Than When? A more immediate threat to Franco than the mutterings and machinations of his political opponents are the consequences of his own economic mismanagement. The Spanish economy has indeed come a long way in the last 20 years. Its industry has grown; new buildings have sprouted in the major cities; and the living standard of its people has risen. But the figures Franco cites to demonstrate Spain's progress are comparisons with 1940 when the country still lay in the wreckage created by the Civil War. Fact is that Spain, which produced 1,000,000 tons of steel in 1929, produced only 1,600,000 tons last year, and the homemade steel still costs more than German steel of better quality.

Meantime, at Franco's insistence, agriculture has been neglected for industry. Last year's harvest of grain and oranges was only 11% above prewar output, while Spain's population is now 20% bigger than before the war. The cost of living has jumped 40% in the past two years without any compensating increase in wages. And the European Common Market is expected to spell further trouble for Spain's foreign trade, already in the red.

In this plight, Franco has looked abroad to the International Monetary Fund for an urgently needed loan. But an IMF team sent to investigate the Spanish economy is expected to report that before qualifying for a major loan Spain must agree to throw less money away on the building industry, devalue the peseta, eliminate multiple exchange rates, possibly open its doors to foreign investment.

The Strength of a Saw. Whether proud Francisco Franco will agree to such painful reforms is questionable. But even if he does not get the IMF loan, he is confident that the U.S. and other anti-Communist powers will not stand by and let his regime succumb to economic disaster. And despite all the grumbling among his people, Franco believes that their vivid memories of the bloody days when brother killed brother in Spain will keep them from open revolt. After 20 years in power, Franco's one great strength with his countrymen lies in the old Spanish saw: "Better the known evil than the unknown good."

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