How to Get a Breakthrough in Ukraine
The Case Against Incrementalism
In 1963 the United States can renegotiate her alliance with Spain. If neither party were to raise new conditions, the ten-year-old alliance would be automatically extended, to last another ten years. However, General Franco has already hinted that he wants to bargain for further military aid. The political structure of the country with which the U.S. Government is now probably preparing to confirm its friendship is at an especially interesting stage.
The National Movement, the Falange Española Tradicionalista de las JONS, is even less of a party than most single parties in authoritarian states. It derives from General Franco's clever amalgamation of the Carlists (Tradicionalistas) and the semi-Fascists of the Falange who were his main non-military supporters in the civil war. The most fervent Carlists and Falangists were either expelled or kept outside, and today the few radical Falangists (of whom the most extreme is the small hectic group known as "Young Nation") are nearly as critical of General Franco as is any Socialist. The Falange proper is really no more than the bureaucracy which staffs the ministries and the various organizations, including old soldiers who make use of the Falange ideology to gather some popular appeal. This ideology is partly simply emotive-making use of the phrases of the epoch of the civil war such as "crusade of liberation"-and partly based on the radical aspirations of the ambivalent founder of the Falange, José Antonio Prime de Rivera; but most of the original Falangists remaining-possibly as many as 60 percent of the pre-civil-war members were killed between 1936 and 1939-have settled down as rniddle-aged businessmen, profiting from the recent industrial successes or from the more long-standing profiteering.
More important than the party are the 23 national syndicates, forming the official trade-union organization of Spain, controlled by a bureaucracy under the secretary-general of the movement, usually of cabinet status. The principle behind the syndicates is that both capital and labor should be controlled by a threefold bargain between the workers, the employers and the state. Employers are forbidden to sack workers or to pay less than the agreed minimum wage; workers are not allowed to strike. The syndicates have offices in almost every town in Spain, and whenever there is a labor dispute it is usually settled in this office. This "solution of the tension between capital and labor" is, according to General Franco, Spain's "answer" to the challenge of modern industrial conditions. It would be wrong to regard the organization as entirely a farce. The syndicates have, in fact, won considerable concessions both in the form of social security benefits and wage increases. For instance, last March the National Congress of Syndicates approved a resolution demanding a raise in minimum wages. Many suggestions were made for eliminating red tape in wage discussions. The Congress also approved a resolution which, among other things, advocated the election of some (but not all) officers by free and secret ballot; previously there was an element of free election only at the lower levels. The delegates also called on the Government to raise the nation's standard of living to the Common Market level by 1975, through a 15-year development plan. It is clear that Socialists, anarchists and even Communists are enrolled in the movement. It is also obvious that the syndicates do not articulate properly the wishes of either side ("sides" remain in Spain as elsewhere) and that the smooth working of the system is prevented by bureaucracy.
There have been several strikes over the last ten years, beginning with the near-general strike in Barcelona in 1951. In the spring of 1962 there was an upheaval inside the Falange when the vice president resigned after an effort to obtain free elections to the various offices. In April the most serious economic challenge to the régime since 1939 took place with the start of a two-month-long strike in the traditionally revolutionary province of Asturias. Negotiations had been going on since the previous autumn over a wage demand by the Asturias coal miners: they wanted their existing wage amounting to between 54 and 75 cents a day raised to a starting minimum of $2.50. A rise in the price of coal had almost been agreed on in order to raise wages. But the miners were angered by the general rise in prices. When seven miners were dismissed over an unimportant incident at a mine in Mieres, 50,000 Asturias coal miners struck. Sympathy strikes followed all over Spain, especially in the steelyards of Bilbao, but also in the south and in Barcelona (there were no strikes in Madrid). The upshot was that for two months the economy of Spain was paralyzed. In June there was a general return to work, but only after the Government had agreed to negotiate an increase.
The significance of these strikes is, first, that the Government was forced to negotiate not simply with the local syndicates but with the representatives of unofficial workers' commissions; this really meant the admission of the existence of an unofficial opposition. Secondly, the workers came close to imposing their demands despite the lack of an official organization. This new-found workers' strength does not seem to have derived from any specific political creed, though once the strike had begun it was backed by all the old left-wing parties of Spain, both at home and in exile, including the Communists. Money had obviously been brought to Spain from abroad, presumably before the strike began, to compensate for the absence of strike funds. It came from the unions of the West (Belgium, France, West Germany and even the United States). The inaction of the Government came as a surprise. For a long time, nothing was done; then a state of emergency was declared and more troops were moved in. But even then there was a curious absence of tension, with the forces of both the régime and the strikers reluctant to use violence. A number of strikers were arrested; some were sent to Valladolid prison, but others were soon freed. The comparative lenience of the Government was undoubtedly explained by the fact that the church appeared increasingly on the side of the strikers.
The Roman Catholic Church in Spain dominates education, is represented on all censorship boards for TV, radio, books and newspapers, and owns about 1,600 publications of various sorts. All schoolmasters, even in state schools, are supposed to be practicing Catholics. The church is a strong instrument of national unity, for no other organization has so many branches (the priest and his church) throughout the country. The new lay order, Opus Dei, which grew out of student discussions in the late 1920s aiming to combat agnosticism, is now very important. Members are supposed to carry on their normal professions while observing the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, and to influence events and their colleagues toward Catholicism. All income beyond the satisfaction of immediate needs must be given to the order. Laureano López Rodó, who, as Commissioner for Economic Development, is preparing a five-year development plan for Spain in conjunction with the World Bank, is technical secretary of the order. A typical member is Alberto Ullastres, the ascetic Minister of Commerce, and an important figure now as Spain seeks to negotiate her associate membership in the Common Market. The order began as an attempt to oppose the supposed influence of freemasonry in pre-civil-war Spain; it is ending by seeming a Catholic caricature of it.
But the church's weight is not entirely thrown in support of the régime. Take, for instance, Acción Católica, inspired by Pius X's injunction to Catholics to form national associations to defend the church. The most common activity of this movement, which has about half a million Spanish members, often seems to consist of good works carried on by women of the bourgeoisie to try to draw workers back to church. However, Acción Católica could easily inspire a regular Christian Democratic Party and indeed, before the civil war, the nucleus of such a party did take shape for a time. The outstanding figure of this group is Angel Herrera, now Bishop of Malaga, and during the 1930s editor of the Catholic daily newspaper El Debate. Herrera has inspired a new model suburb in Málaga and, through the foundation of a social institute for priests, has laid the basis for a whole new generation of socially minded churchmen. He has also denounced the arbitrary nature of the régime's censorship. In May of this year, at the height of the strikes in the north of Spain, the Acción Católica periodical Ecclesia published an editorial in favor of the right to strike. In July, in an obvious attempt to placate this powerful group, Franco invited several members to join the Government.
In accord with Ecclesia, certain Spanish bishops issued pastoral letters at the time of the strike affirming that the right to refuse labor was an essential human freedom-thereby echoing the Pope's recent encyclical to the same effect. It is reliably reported that General Franco criticized both the Cardinal Primate of Spain, Dr. Plá, and the papal nuncio, Cardinal Antoniutti, for apparently countenancing this clerical support of the opposition. Then, a few weeks later, José María Gil Robles, the chief Christian Democratic statesman in Spain, leader of Democracía Social Christiana Española,[i] was arrested after attending a European federalist meeting in Munich. Gil Robles, who had been the Catholic and middle-class political hope in the years immediately before the civil war, and who was for a long time a close political adviser of the pretender Don Juan, had returned to Spain from exile only in 1957 to defend certain young Socialists at their trial. The meeting at Munich was attended by 80 people of varying political groups in Spain as well as by 38 Spanish exiles, including Salvador de Madariaga and Rudolfo Llopis, the secretary-general of the Socialist Party in exile. The meetings between Gil Robles, Madariaga and Llopis seemed to those present to heal the quarrels of a whole generation. A declaration was introduced by both groups of Spaniards, urging that Spain's entry into the Common Market should be made conditional on the Government's recognition of five elementary civil rights. (Incidentally, the declaration, by avoiding the statement that all offices in a future Spain should be open to election, deliberately left the way open for a monarchy.) There was no vote on the Common Market question, due to the Spanish Government's protests in Brussels and Bonn. Nevertheless, when Gil Robles returned to Madrid, he was arrested and given a choice of going to internal exile on the arid island of Fuerteventura in the Canaries or of going abroad. He chose to go to Paris. Thus the man who was in many ways the very conservative leader of the Christian Democrats passed into open opposition.
There is a working-class emanation of this clerical opposition to Franco in the small Catholic trade union HOAC (Hermanadadas Obreras de Acción Católica), which is thought to have a membership of about 30,000, including both priests and workers. The aim of this group is specifically to try to rival the government-controlled unions. It publishes a magazine, Boletín, frequently containing political articles of a critical nature and therefore sold only by subscription. In 1962 many HOAC members took part in the strikes in the north. It seems quite well thought of by the few workers who have heard of it, in spite of the fact that there is obviously considerable hostility among workers toward any organization which owes ultimate allegiance to the Cardinal Primate, who also is president of Acción Católica.
Not only is there this working-class opposition within the church; there is also a great deal of clerical opposition centered on two traditionally separatist areas of Spain, the Basque provinces and Catalonia. In the former area, the many admirable Basque priests are close to the people, and one result is that church attendance there is the highest in Spain. In May 1960, about 350 Basque priests signed a long letter criticizing police torture and the absence of civil liberties and then circulated it to their bishops and to foreign newspapers. In consequence, some were sent to other parts of Spain. In Catalonia also there is clerical opposition, chiefly centered on the powerful Abbot of the Monastery of Montserrat, Don Aureli María Escarré, who has shown great bravery in defending civil liberties and demanding recognition of Catalan rights.
Far from being a bastion of support for the régime, then, the church has recently provided some of its chief opponents. Possibly the new Pope, John XXIII, and a more socially conscious Vatican have been the direct inspiration of this movement. It could lead to the church actually deserting Franco-as it deserted Perón in 1955 and Trujillo in 1960. Looking ahead, one can see the possibility that if there were free elections in Spain a Christian Democratic Party of the size and importance of the parties existing today in both Germany and Italy could take shape. At present, however, the conservative Opus Dei is probably the chief force inside the Spanish church, and in view of its strong control inside the existing régime it presumably will be the last element within the church to abandon it.
The armed forces, the various police forces, the civil governments in the provinces, the ministries in Madrid-these are, of course, the instruments through which the régime carries on its policies. It is difficult to make any generalization about the degree to which they are loyal. In the past, rumors have often circulated about the loyalty of this or that general, some being too overtly monarchist, others being suspected of personal ambitions. But with the passing of time nearly all the generals who played dominant roles in the civil war (and who therefore might possibly rival General Franco) have died or have retired from active life. General Muñoz Grandes, who once led the Blue Division against Russia, became Vice Premier in July of this year, thus obviously being singled out definitely as the personality about whom the régime should rally if General Franco were to disappear suddenly. Most of the army officers share General Franco's own political ideology of a powerful and centralist Spain. They reject all "foreign" dogmas-Communism, liberalism, anarchism, socialism, freemasonry- as "anti-España" and all regional feelings as anti-Castillian; for the army, as for the Bourbons, Castille is the same as Spain.
The role of the army in Spanish politics since 1808 has, with some reason, given many officers the idea that they really hold the country together, and that were it not for the garrisons in the large cities, the country would fall apart into the old separate entities of Catalonia, Valencia, Andalusia, etc. But at lower levels there is discontent over the bad pay, which often forces officers to take a second job. This gives them a contact with civilian life, and must serve to erode the conception of an officer class. The loyalty of the various police forces, including the famous civil guard, is not in doubt; the political police is universally acknowledged in Spain to be brutally efficient, with an impressive anti-Communist research department.
About the ministries and civil government it is also impossible to make accurate generalizations, though there are many persons, especially in the lower ranks, who have left-wing views and long for a change to a government which they could serve with more satisfaction. The degree to which the business world supports the régime is beyond the scope of this article, but many leading bankers and industrialists are deeply involved in it. Though actual corruption has probably decreased in comparison with what it was before the Stabilization Plan of 1959 (when three sets of books were common practice-one each for management, tax collectors and shareholders), nevertheless the relations between government agencies and leading industries of which the state approves is so close as to make the highest standards of either business or administrative morality almost impossible.
In the center of this increasingly confused picture is General Franco, now on the brink of 70. His health appears good, though it is rumored that he suffered more than was admitted from the wound to his hand last December. He derives his prestige from his military victories in the civil war, from his diplomatic skill since, and from the simple fact that no other Spanish régime since 1808 has preserved internal order more effectively (however harshly). He is accepted so easily because he clearly lives without ostentation and without evident corruption. He obviously dislikes parties and apparently relies on no single person to advise him. He lives a patriarchal life surrounded by his family and a few old comrades such as General Alonso Vega, the Minister of the Interior. In comparison with the grander landlords and the upper classes generally he is almost progressive. He is undoubtedly interested in the increasing prosperity of Spain, provided this can be accomplished without any surrender of his long-held principles. The industrial advances of the years since 1951 (the index of industrial production has risen by nearly 50 percent since then) have obviously caused him to look upon himself as an enlightened despot who, given time, can make what is still after all a semi-developed country into a modern one.
However, per capita real income has risen since 1935 only about 25 percent- less than this for the workers. The industrial production of the last ten years marked the first rise after a period of total stagnation; it was not until 1954 that industrial production reached pre-civil-war figures, and the average rate of growth of 3.1 percent since 1951 is below the O.E.C.D. average.[ii] At the same time, agriculture has slumped and production has not even kept pace with the rise of population. Yet a vast number of Spaniards, especially town dwellers, are better off and there is a good deal of evidence that the last ten years have created a "new middle class"; in Madrid people never seem to tire of pointing out the significant rise in the number of motor-scooter registrations. And these people yearn for still better conditions.
General Franco often assures audiences that the question of what is to happen when he dies is already settled. Since Spain is, by the Law of Succession of 1947, a monarchy, this settlement is expected to provide for a Council of Regency (composed of people like the Archbishop of Toledo, the Minister of the Interior, the Dean of the Madrid College of Lawyers, the Captain General of the Madrid region) which would itself impose a king. He would have to be a Spaniard, over 30 and a Roman Catholic. In fact, the choice is really limited to either the pretender Don Juan or Don Juan Carlos, his son.[iii] It is often thought that Franco prefers Don Juan Carlos as the more pliable; but the son is known to be dutifully filial, and has sworn that he could never reign before his father. Some believe that Franco himself wishes to impose a king on the throne before he dies himself, and perhaps stay in the background for some time thereafter. But in either event, what sort of monarchy would this be? A king almost as powerful as General Franco is himself? A constitutional monarchy in the English style? Surely impossible, since General Franco has so profound a distaste for liberalism of any kind. The General will presumably want the king to preserve the fabric of the new Spain, with its syndical "solution" of labor troubles and its exile of political parties as complete as that of the Jews or Moors in the sixteenth century. The arbitrary censorship would continue, with newspapers not only forbidden to publish news of matters such as the strikes but also forced occasionally to print false news given them by the Government.
The monarchists themselves are divided on all these questions. A committee of Don Juan's 43-member privy council is said to be even now working out a new scheme for the restored monarchy; Don Juan is plausibly reported to have been impressed by General de Gaulle's handling of the French National Assembly. In fact, almost all the full-time Monarchists (some being members of Opus Dei) are actively non-liberal. There is, however, a constitutional Monarchist group, Unión Española, which does not collaborate with Don Juan, but which is probably backed by thousands of Spaniards, who, while seeing nothing itself desirable in the idea of king, consider the monarchy as a good step forward-however long it may last-and as a possibly steadying institution to what might otherwise be a dangerous situation. The leaders of this group are Joaquín Satrusteguí, recently exiled to Fuerteventura after the famous Munich meeting, and Professor Tierno Galván, the deprived professor of constitutional law at the University of Salamanca, a man well known in the United States, who was refused a passport to come here this year to lecture at Princeton. The Christian Democrats led by Gil Robles would also accept a king. The left-wing Christian Democrats of Professor Jiménez Fernández have gone on record as accepting a monarchy only if there were a new plebiscite in favor of it.
These are not by any means the only opposition parties in Spain. There is an influential if disunited group of Liberals, of whom the poet and sometime Falangist propagandist Dionisio Ridruejo is the outstanding leader. He too is now forced to live abroad due to his having been present at Munich. All the working-class groups of the time of the civil war retain followers in Spain, though their leaders are abroad. Foremost are the Socialists, much divided since the war by two questions: whether to accept a monarchy and whether to collaborate with the Communists. The leadership represented at the Munich meeting seems to have hinted "Yes" to the first, while confirming an old negative to the second. However, there is much tension between those Socialists who have been in exile since 1939 and those who, mostly younger, have remained at home-the latter feeling justifiably that the exiles have lost touch with conditions in Spain. There is also an anarchist organization at Toulouse, but it seems certain that the great following which this ideology had among the working class of Spain before the civil war has vanished.
The Communists (with La Pasionaria still its nominal president) are undoubtedly the best organized opposition group in Spain. They have the advantage of a powerful radio station, Radio España Independiente, operating from Prague, which, judging by the relevance of its broadcasts, clearly has close collaborators inside Spain. The Communist Party has concentrated on gaining a few well-placed followers rather than masses, and hard-working and disciplined party members exist in many villages in the south of Spain, among intellectual circles of Madrid, in the syndicates and even the ministries. The themes of Communist propaganda-reconciliation among the anti-Franco forces, opposition to United States bases, a moderate rather than an extreme economic policy-are naturally popular. With a censored press it is surprisingly easy for a pro-Soviet attitude to prevail in intellectual circles. In free conditions the Communists would probably expand. They might, for instance, absorb the semi-Marxist but also semi- Christian Democratic grouping of chiefly progressive and idealistic sons of the middle class, the Popular Liberation Front. This party, which actively regards itself as Castroist, was founded in 1959 by the diplomat Julio Cerón, who was promptly sent to prison, remaining there ever since. One hundred members of this party were imprisoned in June 1962 following the explosion of a number of bombs in Madrid.
The two leading separatist movements, the Basques and the Catalans, both maintain headquarters in Paris. Though neither has any effective organization in Spain itself, both have martyrs, notably Jorge Pujol, the Catalan doctor who was imprisoned in 1960 for singing the banned Catalan national song at a public meeting at which General Franco was present. Both these movements are less interested in actual independence than in limited local rights, including the recognition of the Basque and Catalan languages for use in schools. As in the past, the significance of these separatist movements derives from the economic importance of Barcelona and Bilbao as large industrial towns whose hard-working and outward-looking bourgeoisie feel that they are made to carry the weight of the rest of Spain on their shoulders. Yet Catalan regionalism is a good deal less strong than before the civil war, due in part to the development of home-grown Spanish raw materials for the Barcelona textile mills.
Where the working class is concerned, no one could give an accurate answer as to the potential strength of these movements, nor can the attitudes of "the new middle class" be predicted. The age-old Spanish distrust of central government survives, especially against a régime so centralist as General Franco's. And in fact when the régime describes its opponents as anti-España, it almost speaks the truth; for what they especially oppose are those agencies of national unity which have been established, often with difficulty, throughout the country-the civil guard, the tax inspectors, the municipal officials, the local officers of the syndicates, the priest-all usually from outside the town in which they serve and all in some measure regarded even now by local populations as the agents of a Castillian army of occupation.
The foregoing suggests that Spain is in crisis. What are the forces which have caused this and will no doubt bring further changes, however slowly, in the future? The paradox is that the very forces which have over the last decade helped to enrich the régime are also eroding it. In 1950 Spain was poor, isolated from the rest of Europe, with few friends except Perón. The standard of living was so low that the working classes were cowed into apathy. It was easy for Franco to survive through the use of force alone. Only the anarchists could have broken this grip and they had been crushed. Since then things have changed radically.
First, there is tourism. In 1951 about one million foreigners visited Spain. In 1962 the expected number is ten million. This vast influx accounts for Spain's present large foreign-exchange reserves and enabled the Government to escape from its near-bankruptcy of the year 1958-59. At the same time the tourists bring new ideas. A Spanish tradesman who talks to one of his French colleagues hears how prosperous life is in the freer world north of the Pyrenees. Many have made money out of tourism, and this has merely conquered past apathy rather than calmed misery.
Second, the increasing wealth of the Common Market has been both a challenge and a lure. Economically, Spain has been increasingly liberal since 1959, and now foreign investments can be made freely in Spain and the profits taken out. Since Spain sells more to Britain than to any other single country she has been driven inexorably, now that Britain has applied for full membership in the Common Market, to apply for associate membership- leading in time to full membership. With this application the glaring differences between the political life of Spain and that in the Common Market countries have been made obvious.[iv] The treatment of Gil Robles and others who went to the meeting at Munich must have had an adverse effect on Spain's chances of acceptance at Brussels. The recent visit of three Common Market officials to General Franco and the Caudillo's later favorable mention of northern democracy-the first in 25 years-is a sure pointer to the future. General Franco is now faced with the hardest of all his choices: either to maintain his ban on intellectual freedom but risk rejection by the Common Market, thereby incurring a serious setback and possibly ultimate economic ruin; or to make concessions toward freedom in order to enter the Common Market as an associate, thus incurring the risk of beginning a snowballing process which might lead to the eclipse of his system.
A third factor in Spanish politics is the American alliance. Since 1953, the United States has provided General Franco's government with $1.7 billion ($543 million in military aid, the rest in economic aid). In return it has enjoyed the lease of lands on which to construct three major air bases and a large naval air base. There are also radar bases and a naval supply base. The effect of this alliance in the short run has inevitably been to bolster the régime. True, it is possible that the United States contributed to the inflation that raised the cost of living in Spain by nearly one-half between 1953 and 1958. But in fact this derived in the main from the general wage rise of 1956 and from the ill-balanced industrial advances of those years. Nor is there any truth in the argument that the United States did its best to spoil the Spanish cotton revival; it merely did nothing to assist a crop which it believed would for many years be sold at prices above the world market price. In fact, the whole of the economic achievements of the régime might have been ruined had it not been for the loan by the International Monetary Fund in July 1959 at the time of the stabilization plan. Clearly, it was not in the American interest to let Spain go bankrupt. Apart from economic support, the Spanish armed services have undoubtedly profited from their new association with the United States, not simply because of the considerable supplies of military equipment and the training made available, but because of the increased esprit de corps that the Spaniards have gained as a result of working with American officers and military technicians.
Yet for a variety of reasons, both rational and irrational, with which Americans have grown familiar, there has been incessant Spanish criticism of the United States, some evidently officially inspired. At the end of 1961 there was a good deal of criticism of the American policy toward Portugal, and American economic aid to Morocco is unpopular because of Moroccan aspirations toward the Spanish outposts in Africa of Ceuta, Melilla, Ifni and Sahara. Spain maintains commercial relations with Cuba. In January of this year, Blas Piñar, the director of the Instituto de Cultura Hispanica, wrote an article in the monarchist paper ABC which denounced the United States as hypocritical for siding with Soviet Russia in the war and then planning her overthrow. The attack evoked a complaint from the American Embassy and the critic resigned. However, there have been other criticisms that have seemed officially inspired; all are probably aimed at strengthening Spain's hand in the forthcoming treaty negotiations.
The attitude of the Spanish Government itself to the United States is in fact ambivalent. Its anti-Communism would inevitably cause it to be an ally of the United States in any world war. Even though Franco might toy with the idea of keeping Spain out of a war between the Soviet Union and the United States, it is inconceivable that the Soviet Union would allow the SAC bases in Spain to go unscathed. But even so the barely concealed official Spanish attitude is that Spain is doing the United States a great service by allowing her to establish bases on the sacred national soil. After all, a self-consciously nationalistic régime like Franco's could hardly admit the necessity of an ally. There is thus an imperceptible but undeniable attitude of contempt in official Spanish attitudes to the United States, just as there is a definite condescension by the more traditional upper classes toward the American way of life. And this national attitude is not simply one deriving from the régime itself. Spain is still poor but still proud, and the riches of America impress only a small number of Spaniards. The anarchists in the civil war did not covet the riches of the bourgeoisie; they wished to destroy them as unclean. The long-standing Spanish hostility toward, and incapacity for, the idea of capitalism is in fact an inevitable undercurrent to Spain's relations with the leading exponent of the capitalist idea.
On the other side of the Spanish political spectrum, it is almost impossible to hear a good word for the United States among any of the opposition-the Christian Democrats included. Students and members of the Popular Liberation Front have been known to refer to American personnel in Madrid as the army of occupation-only half in jest. In the long run, however, the alliance must have an erosive effect on the régime It has probably driven many people toward the left, thus increasing the opposition. It has also brought Spain into the middle of the cold war, so that any crisis in Spain is bound to affect relations between East and West. Finally it gives the United States an opportunity actually to influence events in Spain. Those who are setting out to renew the 1953 treaty might recall that General Franco today needs the United States more than the United States needs Spain. In fact, over the next few years, with the development of missiles, overseas SAC bases such as exist in Spain will become increasingly obsolete.
The signs are that Spain is heading toward a new period of change, whether caused by internal developments alone or by unacknowledged but firm pressure from the Common Market or the United States, and whether or not the changes lead to the establishment of a constitutional monarchy. It is not at all fanciful to see the possibility of a society developing in Spain roughly similar in political balance to that of postwar Italy. The essential difference between Spain now and 30 years ago, at the time of its last free electoral system, is that there is no longer an anarchist federation a million-and-a-half strong which, through the noblest of motives, prevented the bulk of the Barcelona and Andalusia working class from collaborating with the régime. Nor is there a world depression; nor are the potential leaders of the future so bereft of essential economic and administrative knowledge (not to speak of international advisers) as their fathers were. No one should think that, because the second republic failed, democracy is unworkable in Spain.
[i] There is also a left-wing Christian Democratic group led by another ex- minister of the Republic, Jiménez Fernández, now a professor at Seville University.
[ii] A World Bank group recently visited Spain and has apparently worked out a plan which would, if adopted, cause Spain to aim for an annual growth rate of 5 percent.
[iii] The still surviving and not negligible Carlist "Communion" backs Prince Hugo of Bourbon Parma, and there are some Falangists who favor Alfonso, son of Don Juan's elder brother, Don Jaime, who renounced his claims in 1935 because of illness.
[iv]Nearly 700,000 Spanish workers are now abroad, sending back money from West Germany or France or Britain to their families; when they return they will not find authoritarian Spain easy to live in.