“We Are All Monarchists Now”: The Triumph of King Juan Carlos
by Paul James
On 22 November 1975, HRH Don Juan Carlos de Borbón y Borbón, Prince of Spain, stood before the Cortes de España, the Spanish Parliament, and accepted the Crown of Spain, which had been vacant for 44 years, since the exile of his grandfather, Alfonso XIII. In the intervening time there had been a short-lived Second Republic, followed by a bitter Civil War, and then 36 years of a Falangist, fascist, regime under the dictatorship of Generalissimo Francisco Franco. In 1947, the Ley de Sucesión had proclaimed Spain to be a monarchy without a king, but with the provision that kingship would be restored when Franco died or gave up power. The decision about which member of the Borbón dynasty would sit on the restored throne would be Franco’s. In the meantime, Franco assumed some royal prerogatives and privileges as “Caudillo (Leader) of Spain by the grace of God”, and Head of the Spanish State.
Juan Carlos (originally known simply as Juan, and referred to as Juanito) was born in Rome, where his parents were in exile, in 1938, during the middle of the Spanish Civil War. His father was HRH Don Juan (later styled Count of Barcelona), third son of the exiled King, and heir to the throne because of renunciations by his two older brothers. The family later moved to France and then to Lausanne, in Switzerland, where he began his schooling. When his parents moved again, to Portugal, Juan Carlos began a life of separation from his family, except during holidays, as he remained at school in Lausanne, with only occasional visits from his grandmother, Queen Victoria Eugenie.
After the death of Alfonso XIII in 1941, Don Juan (now King Juan III to Spanish monarchists) continually pressed Franco on the issue of the restoration of the monarchy, and he continued into the 1960s to harbour hopes of becoming king. There was never any chance of Franco nominating him for the throne, though. Don Juan’s liberal democratic views were diametrically opposed to those of Franco. His oft-repeated aspiration to be “King of all Spaniards” conflicted with Franco’s more divisive view of Spain, in which he and his right-wing Movimiento Nacionale were the victors of the Civil War and felt no obligation or desire to reconcile themselves with the defeated and despised left-wing opposition.
The two men negotiated and disputed over the upbringing of Juan Carlos, the potential future king, and agreed that he should be educated in Spain, separated again from his parents. From the age of 10, Juan Carlos was schooled under Franco’s watchful eye. After completing his schooling, he attended the military academies of all three armed services, before going on to university studies in Madrid. In 1962, the year after completing his studies, the prince married Princess Sophia of Greece, daughter of King Paul and sister of the future King Constantine. The couple settled in Madrid and undertook royal duties but, although he was one day expected to succeed to Franco’s political power, Juan Carlos was not included in government.
The 1960s and early 70s were a difficult period for the prince and princess. In order to keep his hopes of succeeding to the throne alive, Juan Carlos had to appear to be a part of the regime, and keep his true democratic ambitions hidden from Franco. He was never entirely free of others’ suspicions, though, and he and Sophia were kept under constant surveillance. Franco was under pressure to nominate someone else as his successor, most notably Juan Carlos’s cousin, Alfonso de Borbón y Dampierre, and he did give encouragement to Alfonso in order to keep his options open and keep Juan Carlos in line. Laws were put in place to try and ensure that the principles of Franco’s Movimiento could not be overridden after his death.
Franco formally nominated Juan Carlos as heir in 1969, giving him the title of Prince of Spain. Even after this, the pressure to replace Juan Carlos with Alfonso didn’t cease until Franco died six years later. The nomination caused a rift between the prince and his father, who felt he had been betrayed by Juan Carlos’s acceptance of his own exclusion from the succession. Forces within the regime opposed any restoration of the monarchy, as did many on the left; and other liberals and democrats were suspicious of the prince because of his identification with the Franco regime.
Things did not bode well for Juan Carlos. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about, social discontent was on the rise in the early 70s, as was Basque nationalist terrorism. ETA, the Basque terrorist organisation, succeeded in assassinating the Prime Minister, Luis Carrero Blanco, in 1973.
After Juan Carlos accepted the Crown two days after Franco’s death in 1975, he had to play a delicate game in order to begin the process of democratisation without alienating the established forces of the Movimiento and army. He felt compelled to keep Franco’s Prime Minister, Carlos Arias Navarro, in office for the time being, and to proceed slowly in liberalising the regime while using all his persuasive powers to keep the army loyal and convince the socialists and communists to give him a chance to introduce reform. He had to begin the reform process within the legal regime of the Movimiento, which he had sworn to uphold. Many believed his task was impossible; the veteran Communist leader, Santiago Carrillo, dubbed him Juan Carlos the Brief, in the certain conviction, and hope, that his reign would quickly end in failure, presaging a third Spanish Republic.
Arias’s government was less than half-hearted about introducing reforms, heavy-handed but ineffectual in stemming the tide of social and industrial unrest and escalating terrorism, and making enemies on all sides. By July 1976, Juan Carlos felt compelled to ask for the Prime Minister’s resignation, and replaced him with a younger technocrat, Adolfo Suarez. Under Suarez, the pace of reform picked up, ways were found to legalize most political parties within the existing legal framework, and free elections were scheduled for June 1977. The one party whose legalisation was most controversial, but was essential if the elections were to be truly democratic, was the Communist Party. This was achieved on April 8 but, predictably, it enraged the right-wing, who felt that the legalization had undone all they had achieved in, and since, the Civil War. The King had to work hard to keep senior military officers in line, using both his authority as Commander-in-Chief and as Franco’s designated successor, and his carefully nurtured personal contacts, but discontent was growing to dangerous levels.
In May 1977, the Count of Barcelona made good a promise he had given to Juan Carlos at the time of his accession, namely that he would renounce his rights to the throne in favour of his son once he was satisfied that Spain was on the road to becoming a free democracy. The King now had dynastic legitimacy as well as the legitimacy of Francoist laws, and he was soon to have democratic legitimacy too.
Elections went ahead, Suarez retained the premiership, now as head of a political alliance, the Unión Centro Democrático (UCD), and the Cortes set to work on its major task of drafting a new constitution, which was ready to be put to a referendum in late 1978. The new constitution was that of a modern free European nation, with a freely-elected parliament, and the King’s powers defined and severely reduced. Crucially, though, he retained his position as Commander-in-Chief.
The constitution was the final legal nail in the coffin of the Franco regime, and die-hard conservatives were determined to stop it in its tracks. A coup was hatched, to be executed just a few weeks before the referendum, which would have installed a “government of national salvation” to preserve or resurrect the old ways. It was stopped only because of the defection of one of the plotters. The leaders were arrested and tried, but received derisory sentences of only a few months from the conservative courts, and officers involved in the coup were even allowed to resume their commissions after their release from prison. One of those officers was Lt.Col. Antonio Tejero.
The constitution was approved by a huge majority, but Spain’s troubles didn’t end. Basque terrorism continued, the economy faltered, and hard-liners continued to propagandize and plot against the new regime, spurred on by the fledgling democracy’s failures. The Suarez government became increasingly ineffectual and despised. In February 1981, Suarez finally decided to resign. Once again, reactionaries in the military conspired to overthrow the regime, and the word was spread, notably by General Antonio Armada, a former member of the King’s Household, that the king supported a move to install a military-led government to bring order back to the country.
On 23 February 1981, as the Cortes was meeting to confirm the nomination of a new Prime Minister, armed Civil Guards led by Lt.Col. Tejero stormed into the chamber of the Congress of Deputies and took the government and legislators hostage. Other military commanders prepared to send troops into the streets in order to maintain order, and in the belief that the king would appoint a military government to fill the power vacuum. It looked as though Spain’s experiment with democracy was at an end.
The King, who had been playing squash when he heard the news, moved swiftly. Instead of handing over power to the military, he called upon the senior officials in government ministries to take responsibility for the administration, and ordered military chiefs to submit to their authority. He spent the evening phoning captains-general and military governors across the country, informing them that he did not support the coup, and that their duty was to the Crown and the constitution. Where troops had been deployed on the streets in support of the coup, he ordered them back to barracks. Where they hadn’t been deployed, he ordered them to stay put, or to take action against the coup. A mobile broadcasting unit was dispatched to his palace of La Zarzuela, and at 1:15 am the King broadcast to the nation, condemning the coup and ordering its leaders to surrender.
Juan Carlos’s assertion of his authority and appeal to the sworn loyalties of military commanders paid off. The coup collapsed the following day, and the ringleaders were arrested. The importance of the King’s intervention was emphasised a few days later, when the captain-general of Madrid, Guillermo Quintana Lacaci, told the Minister of Defence:
“I must tell you that I am a Francoist, that I adore the memory of General Franco. For eight years I was a colonel in his personal guard. I wear this military medal that I won in Russia. I fought in the Civil War. So you can imagine my way of thinking. But the Caudillo gave me the order to obey his successor and the King ordered me to stop the coup on 23 February. If he had ordered me to assault the Cortes, I would have done so.”
Juan Carlos was the hero of the hour. Santiago Carrillo, who had once dubbed him Juan Carlos the Brief, was now saying “God save the King”.
Discontent among traditionalists continued, and there were further plots, but Spain had faced the abyss of a return to fascism, and the authorities became more diligent and effective in dealing with the threat. Democracy took hold, a socialist government – anathema to the Francoists – was elected in 1982, and Spain went on to enter the European Community and NATO. Juan Carlos was finally able to move properly into the role of a constitutional monarch, and the passage of time has seen the emergence of a new generation of leaders, military and civilian, who have no association with the old regime and old bitter conflicts which Franco had kept alive for so long.
King Juan Carlos stands out from other reigning European monarchs. Where they were brought up in stable environments, he was separated from his family for much of the time, and was a political pawn in the dispute between his father and Franco. Where they had the near certainty of succeeding to their crowns, he had constant uncertainty, and had to play a careful game to fight off rival claimants. Where they inherited stable democracies, he inherited a dictatorship he didn’t believe in, but which was passionately defended by powerful vested interests. Where they presided ceremonially over the political process, he was in the thick of it, juggling with fiercely opposing forces many of whom did not believe in him or the monarchy. That Spain today is a largely stable modern nation owes much to its king, who sacrificed personal happiness and his own powers to make it so. After the 1981 coup attempt, one republican politician, a veteran of the Second Republic, declared “we are all monarchists now”. Juan Carlos had triumphed, and the Spanish people were the beneficiaries.
http://www.unofficialroyalty.com/columni...an-carlos/
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