A Prickly Attraction: Spain's Valley of the Fallen
I consistently look forward to writing my bi-weekly post here on the Iberian Compass. It gives me a chance to share some often eclectic ideas and experiences collected as an Iberian traveler over the past 35 years. That being said, some topics are easier than others. There’s not much risk in discussing tapas in Granada or street art in Lisbon. However, other topics have rough edges. Spain, in particular, is full of rough edges. Whether it’s bullfighting, the Civil War, or the recent political undulations in Catalonia, there are plenty of ways for a writer to get cut. On the other hand, the consequence of avoiding these types of subjects is to risk painting an incomplete picture, in both historical and contemporary contexts. I’ll tread carefully and respectfully, but I’ll tread.
Almost all of the available online lists of cultural faux pas for travelers to Spain include mentioning or asking about the Civil War. While that may seem a bit draconian, there are two main reasons for it. First of all, actual participants are still alive. It’s not a conversation about a distant hypothetical event. Secondly, the Civil War has long thorns, and it’s easy to get pricked. A perfect example of one of these thorns is the Valley of the Fallen, the cavernous basilica dug deep into the Guadarrama Mountains just north of Madrid. Thorny is the perfect adjective here, as countless Spanish administrations have struggled with the question of what to do with the place.
View of the immense monument from the main entry plaza. (Note people in doorway.)
Let’s start with the least controversial proposition. The monument is ridiculously impressive. Period. The stone cross that stands above it is 150 meters tall and can be seen from 20 miles away. This cross sits atop the cathedral-like chamber blasted almost 1000 feet into the mountain. From an objective physical perspective, it competes with the world’s great architectural legacies. Why then does it represent such a delicate patrimony? This gets back to the root; the Civil War. This blog post is not about the War, per se. The War is much too complicated for a blog post. Suffice to say that Nationalists won, propelling Francisco Franco into his 36-year dictatorship. Like many civil wars, it was more than a simple extension of politics. It was a settling of scores and reflection of the hatreds that had grown up in a broken system over a period of centuries. So although Franco claimed to represent all Spaniards, he actually ruled over a subjugated jigsaw puzzle of cultural and political identities, many of which never ceased to defy him or his nationalist ideology.
The Valley of the Fallen was Franco’s attempt to______. A blank line works fine here. Many would say that it was his way to aggrandize his own personal legacy and to further subjugate the thousands of post-war political prisoners that labored to build it. Others would say that it was an attempt to memorialize the war in a bi-partisan way that would provide closure and unity to a suffering people. I will not attempt to interpret his true intent. A wide range of unconfirmed estimates reflects the harsh and hazardous conditions faced by those that labored in the monument’s construction. Once it was completed, the first tomb to be established there was that of Jose Antonio Primo de Rivera, the founder of the dictatorship’s uncontested Falangist political party. That being said, Franco did include both Republicans and Nationalists among the 33,000 war dead that were eventually interred in the ossuaries of the great basilica. The final and the grandest interment was Franco himself in 1975.
It should be easier to understand now why this monument has been a thorny issue for post-dictatorship Spanish governments. Most recently, the center-left caretaker administration of Pedro Sanchez removed Franco’s remains from the Basilica, moving them to a family plot in the Madrid suburbs. This attempt to mollify the activists on the political and cultural left resulted in acrimonious public discourse that exposed the very issues that continue to make the Civil War an undesirable topic at the Spanish dinner table. The future of the monument is also up for debate and will represent a political whipping boy for both sides of the political spectrum over the coming years. I believe that the most likely outcome is that the monument will eventually transition from Church control to secular hands that will convert it to a non-affiliated museum. In the meantime, it will cost hundreds of thousands of dollars a year to maintain and will remain one of the war’s most prominent thorns.
Should you visit? Yes. It is impressive architecture, and if you have political objections, you should hold your nose long enough to appreciate its stark beauty. Furthermore, it is very close to El Escorial, another national landmark that I’ll discuss in a future post. As a day trip from the capital, especially in summer, the mountain air can be a welcome relief from the urban heat. There are a variety of ways to get there, and I am happy to advise you on the best course of action for your personal situation. Furthermore, it’s probably worthwhile to check in with me before you go, since the recent exhumation and political debate has resulted in uneven operating days/hours. If you do go, shoot me a note and let me know what you think.
