Last October, I dropped everything, and went to Spain. I had reached a point in editing my father’s memoir, where I felt stuck. I had many questions, and few answers.

I thought I might find some answers in Spain. More than that, I was compelled to see the place in Corbera d’Ebre where my father, Jim Higgins, rescued Manuel Alvarez.

I had booked a Spanish Civil War tour, but decided to spend a few days in Madrid, first.  I’ll be writing about the tour later, but for now, this post is about Madrid.

My first impression was of an attractive European city with grand monuments, and multi-lane streets full of traffic. Uh, oh! I love to walk, what was I going to be faced with, here. I quickly learned that there were large grids of narrow streets between those wide streets. It was great for pedestrians—kudos to the urban planners.

I did the usual things; a city bus tour, a visit to the Prado Museum, and a wander through a botanical garden.  As I walked the streets, I came across what turned out to be my favourite restaurant, Bar La Plateria. 

They served tapas, or small plates, perfect for my appetite. I had a flavourful piece of the freshest fish, perfectly cooked, with an eggplant dish, much like French ratatouille. Plus a glass of wine with complimentary olives, both delicious. All for $12 Canadian.

I also took a tour of the Reina Sophia museum, and it was there that I saw Picasso’s painting, Guernica, which depicts the aerial bombing of civilians in a Basque town on April 16, 1937. At just over 11 feet high, and 25 feet wide, the painting takes over a whole wall of the museum.

Picasso had worked fast, and when it was shown at the Paris World’s Fair, a scant three months after the bombing, Guernica galvanized the world. It then immediately toured the US, and inspired many to support the Spanish government against Franco’s coup. ( It was only a few months later, that Jim Higgins was making the perilous trek over the Pyrenees at night.)

For the citizens of Franco’s Nationalist Spain (he’d taken over much of the country by then), it was different. Franco’s propaganda team went to work after the bombing, and his version of events–that the townspeople were the ones who’d dynamited their own town, and then set the fires on purpose–was believed by his supporters for decades.

In fact, the bombing was done by the German Condor Legion. Hitler, in return for his support to Franco’s side, was getting away with testing his new planes and deadly incendiary bombs on civilians.  Incendiary bombs didn’t just destroy buildings and kill people, they also caused massive fires.

Of course, in a very few years, it became abundantly clear that Hitler had been gearing up for the Second World War. But there he was, in the spring of 1937, testing his planes, and the deadliest bombs yet, right under the noses of the Western democracies.

Many leaders in those democracies even thought Hitler wasn’t such a bad sort. On the contrary, some were quite admiring of him, including British politicians and Canada’s own prime minister, who is characterized in this 2017 National Post article as having a “man-crush” on Hitler.

The international volunteers did not admire Hitler. Far from it. They knew that fascism was on the rise, that Hitler was sending massive support to Franco. They put their lives on the line to fight for democracy in Spain.

While I was in Madrid for those few days, I mentioned my father’s memoir to a couple of Madrilenos. They seemed reluctant to pursue any conversation about it. I let it lie.

Only one person was interested–a young British woman who lead an informative walking tour, and who’d lived in Madrid for several months.

Her degree was in Spain’s transition to democracy after Franco died in 1975. She told me she wasn’t surprised that people hadn’t expressed interest; that, in her experience, very few people in Madrid talked about the war.

This can be explained, at least in part, by Spain’s official Pact to Forget; it was a political agreement made shortly after Franco died, and was meant to help Spain’s citizens to move on.

The problem was that this war that took place on a micro level, in cities, towns and villages, with atrocities on both sides, (though there is no disputing today that Franco’s count is significantly higher, and continued long after the war was over). Even within families, people were on different sides. It ripped them apart.

There are no national museums for the Spanish Civil War, no truth and reconciliation commissions.  The Pact of Forgetting was meant to help Spain’s citizens move forward, but the wounds have not healed. 

There are encouraging signs of change, though. Over the past decade, through the efforts of the Historical Memory Movement, mass graves are being excavated, and, where possible, remains identified and returned to their families.

It’s a start.

***

I came back from Spain, recharged and ready to go. I am close to finishing this next stage of the memoir editing, but these past few weeks, I have been preoccupied with the in and outs of Twitter, Facebook, and this blog, all of which I’m new to.

The impact of social media has been an eye-opener, and I’m amazed to be making such valuable and interesting connections. The most poignant, are messages I’ve received from people in Spain. Here’s a translation of one from a young man in Madrid:

Dear Friend: I greet you in this way because of my admiration, affection and deep respect towards the international volunteers in our terrible civil war. As a descendant of someone so brave, you are loved, respected and admired for it. Thank you very much.

It feels strange, even awkward, to accept their thanks, I could never have done what Jim Higgins and the other internationals did, but I understand the need of the Spanish people of today to thank someone who represents those brave brigaders.

I am profoundly humbled.

© Janette Higgins

NOW PUBLISHED: Fighting for Democracy: The True Story of Jim Higgins (1907-1982), A Canadian Activist in Spain’s Civil War (2020) is available worldwide from Independent Bookstores, Chapters-Indigo, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon. Kindle version on Amazon. Orders of three or more: Friesen Press.

I encourage you to obtain it from your local Indie bookseller or library. And if you can leave a review or “star” it somewhere, like Amazon or Goodreads, that would be much appreciated!

Fighting for Democracy by Jim Higgins is the latest book about the Mac-Paps, Canadians in the Mackenzie Papineau Battalion, which was part of the International Brigades in the Spanish Civil War. Other books about Canadians in the Spanish Civil War include Not For King or Country by Tyler Wentzell , Mac-Pap by Ronald Liversedge with David Yorke and Renegades by Michael Petrou.