FERMENT IN SPAIN INCREASING CONCERN ABOUT NATION’S POLITICAL FUTURE

Press, Volume CVIII, Issue 31729, 12 July 1968, Page 10

FERMENT IN SPAIN INCREASING CONCERN ABOUT NATION’S POLITICAL FUTURE

• Reprinted jrom “Newsweek” by arrangement)

Wherever Madrilenos congregate—in the cafes of the industrial section of Legazpi, in the humble restaurants of the Calle de Echegaray or at the elegant bar of the Embassy Club—the conversation sooner or later turns on one subject: “the succession.” It is, of course, not a new topic. Ever since 1947, when Generalissimo Francisco Franco Bahamonde promised that Spain would eventually revert to a monarchial system of government, millions of Spaniards have assumed that “eventually” meant after the Caudillo passed from the scene.

Recently, however, as the 75-year-old generalissimo has shown increasing signs of the infirmities of age. the pressures upon him to retire have mounted from every quarter—up to and including the members of his own Cabinet. “The count-down is under way,” one Government Minister remarked. “I am convinced that you will see a new Chief of State before the end of this year.”

That may prove to be a rash prediction, given the fact the Franco has retained unchallenged dominance of his nation for more than 30 years—longer than any other living European ruler with the exception of Portugal’s Premier Antonio de Oliveira Salazar. But, then, Spain has undergone enormous tidal changes over the past few years. To begin with, its Fascist dictatorship is now a pale ghost of its old self. All across the country , newspapers openly criticise the regime, a profusion of political groups agitate for change and illegal worker committees —called “comisiones obreras” and dominated by Communists and Socialists —now loudly demand free labour unions, higher wages and better working conditions. Last May Day, in fact, mass demonstrations by workers from Seville to Santander forced the Government to muster the largest concentration of security troops since the end of the civil war.

Real Grievances

Nearly everyone concedes that the worker's grievances are all to real. Only a year ago. a semi-official study concluded that a married Spanish worker with one child needed 350 pesetas ($5) a day to purchase bare essentials. Since then, the cost of living has gone up 12 per cent—but the average urban worker still earns only 300 pesetas a day. As a result, more than half of them are forced to hold down two and even three jobs. The inevitable fatigue from “moonlighting” combined with the traditional Spanish contempt for safety and the country’s antiquated machinery have given Spain the highest industrial-acci-dent rate anywhere in the world.

The workers, moreover, are by no means alone in their assault on Spanish practices. In the ancient seats of Spanish learning— Madrid, Barcelona, Zargoza and Salamanca—university students have raised the red banner of revolution, thrown up makeshift barricades and seized the offices of school administrators. The students’ complaints run the gamut of Spain’s problems, ranging from demands for more local autonomy for Catalonia to insistence that the country’s elitist system of higher education must be revised to make room for the sons of the lower class. The winds of change have even swept past the thick wooden doors of Spain’s cathedrals into the country’s arch - conservative Catholic Church. Indeed, many young Spanish priests, fired by the reformist spirit of Vatican 11, are now directly challenging the reactionary social attitudes of their bishops. Until

the police finally cracked down, a number of the young priests went so far as to make their monasteries and religious retreats available as meeting places for the outlawed worker committees.

Tourism Skyrockets

But none of these dissident groups—workers, students or priests—can claim chief credit for the revolution of rising expectations which is now sweeping Spain. For this, one must look beyond the snow-capped Pyrenees to that most unrevolutionary of individuals—the foreign tourist. In the last six years, the num-

ber of tourists who visit Spain annually has skyrocketed from 7 million to a mind-boggling 18 million—more than one for every two Spaniards. The small island of Majorca alone boasts 2000 hotels, and during the months of July and August its airport handles more traffic (467 flights a day) than Paris or London.

Along with this amazing tourist influx has come fuel to fire the engine of Spain’s modernisation: the liberal outlook of modern western Europe, and the $1.2 billion in convertible currency spent in the country by foreigners each year. Says the Minister of Tourism and Information, Madrid, Barcelona, Zaragoza “Tourism has been and continues to be the great resource which every year achieves the miracle of injecting into our economy a current of energy and life which makes it possible to maintain the pulse of our entire economic body.”

Fastest Growth Rate

The Spanish economic | miracle has generated; Europe’s fastest growth rate, | almost 8 per cent a year since l 1958. And for the Spanish worker, despite his genuine grievances, this amazing expansion has already paid handsome dividends. Since 1966. the number of wage earners making $lOOO a year or more has doubled to 42.5 per cent of the labour force. And measured by gross national product, the oncelaggard Spanish economy today trails only five years behind Italy. Inevitably, the burgeoning Spanish middle class is interested in spending its larger pay-checks on electric refrigerators and bullfights, and has spurned the nostalgic Marxism of a handful of Maoist students. Indeed, despite all the internal pressures on the Franco regime, no one seriously believes that it is in any danger of being forcibly overthrown. Even if the opposition were desperate enough to try a revolt, Spain’s senior army officers —as they pointedly reminded the nation recently would quickly quell it.

A Lay Order

Another force working for stability is Opus Dei, an esoteric lay order of the Catholic Church that has grown so powerful over the past 10 years that it is now often referred to as “Octopus Dei.” One of Europe’s most influential private organisations. Opus Dei literally controls Spain’s economy, it runs the country’s only business school, 10 banks, 16 construction and real-estate companies, ten publishing houses, five film concerns, three newspapers and assorted public relations firms and bookstores.

Among Opus Dei’s 60,000 members (all of whom take vows of poverty, chastity and obedience) are the governor of the State bank and two Cabinet ministers. And it was these men who in 1959 conceived the economic-stabilisa-tion plan that sparked the Spanish boom. Opus Dei’s young technocrats have long been busy promoting change from inside the system and laying the foundations for the postFranco period. “We cannot." one of them explains, “have a consumer revolution, an economic boom and greater press freedom without a reform of the political system as well.”

Indeed, when Franco first agreed to liberalise the econotny—on the condition that the political system would remain untouched —Opus Dei calculated that sooner or later the regime would be caught in the fundamental contradiction between liberal economics and illiberal politics. And that is precisely where the regime stands today. In the meantime, the members of Opus Dei have also worked hard to form an alliance with the country's powerful military men. Four Powers A few years ago, Laureano Lopez Rodo, a brilliant young technocrat and Opus Dei’s

“economic miracle man." shrewdly chose to befriend Admiral Luis Carrero Blanco. Today, Blanco is Franco’s No. 2—and Rodo is Minister without Portfolio.

Clearly, Opus Dei will be one of the major powers—along with the army and the worker committees—to be reckoned with in post-Franco Spain. A fourth power will be the monarchy. According to the law of succession, once Franco passes from the scene a seventeen-man Council of the Realm will be convoked to pick a prince from the Bourbon line—which, for all practical purposes, means Don

Juan de Bourbon y Battenberg, the 55-year-old pretender to the throne, or his son, 30-year-old Don Juan Carlos.

If the council is deadlocked between Juan and Juan Carlos, it is supposed to choose a regent and submit its choice to the Cortes (Parliament) for I ratification. But some generals are known to be worried that I this cumbersome machinerywill move too slowly and, as one top military man put it. “give the troublemakers time to organise a breakdown of public order.” Accordingly, a number of high-ranking officers have been discussing the notion of sending a petition to Franco which would respectfully imply that the time has arrived for him to step aside —if not down. These men point out that, as generalissimo of the armed forces. Franco could be assured that nothing untoward would happen to Spain during the remainder of his lifetime. “He would be asked to continue,” explained an Opus Dei member, “as the Supreme Guide."

Generals Divided

The trouble, however, is that the generals who want action are themselves divided. The “Continuistas”—or socalled “blue generals” (who served in the Blue Division that fought against Russia in World World II) are rooting for the young Juan Carlos or for a regent. But the “Evolucionistas,” who are all traditional royalists, support Don Juan.

So far, moreover, none of the generals has had the nerve to carry out his scheme. And Franco, though obviously aware of their concern, never acknowledges it. To prominent callers who drop polite hints about the dangers of political uncertainty, he replies: “You have a Law of Succession. All you have to do is apply it when I go.” And then, with an impatient wave of his hand, he indicates that the subject is closed. “It's very delicate,” one official confined. "It's a bit like telling your grandfather to shove off. No one can bring himself to do it.” Most politicians believe that 'Don Juan—an intelligent man with a reputation for enlightened political and economic ideas —is the only hope for real change in the political system. Says a 29-year-old Socialist lawyer, “If he were to return from exile in Portugal and become King Juan 111, Spain, to begin with, would probably have a right-of-centre regime and then would be free to swing gradually to the left —where most modern governments find themselves today.”

Three Options

It is exactly this prospect that Franco does not relish. In the past, in fact, he has dismissed Don Juan as a woolly-headed liberal who does not understand the exercise of power. As a result, the generalissimo may well decide to block the growing consensus for Don Juan by installing Juan Carlos, an athletic young man whose education the Caudillo personally supervised. By doing this. Franco could unburden himself of his present ceremonial functions and put a damper on the debate about the succession. Th-t trouble is that Juan Carlo* who lives at Tamila Palac* near Franco's palace, T Pardo, has -*t»*atedly said that he would neve, accept the throne before his father was either given first choice or abdicated in his favour. Recently, however, the young prince was indicated that he might change his mind “in the nation’s interest.” What all this boils down to is that, in his thirty-second year in power. Franco finds himself with three options—to withdraw in favour of Juan Carlos or of Don Juan or of a regent. For years, the generalissimo has also had a fourth and favourite option: to do nothing at all about the succession so long as he is alive. But now, in the opinion of most observers in Spain, that option is fast running out.

“France and Spain,” wrote a leading Spanish publisher recently, “are very similar. And the ‘revolution’ in France has sharpened Spain’s great debate.” Last week, a “Newsweek” Senior Editor, Arnaud de Borchgrave, a long-time observer of the Spanish scene, cabled the accompanying report on the increasingly active debate which Spaniards are conducting over their nation's political future.