A state scandal with no answers
Just over a year ago, when the Non-fiction premiered the first part of the documentary They'll make you a manIt was already clear that a sequel would be necessary. Film critic Àlex Gorina, who appeared among the witnesses to recount the abuses he suffered during his military service, said: "I can't believe I'm the only one." Following him and all the other interviewees, many more have come forward with harrowing stories, all sharing a common element: the events occurred during the democratic era. The documentary focused on four cases in which the young protagonists died in very serious and never-explained circumstances while performing their military service. The profound pain and helplessness of the families recalling the events was heartbreaking.
The documentary tempered the cruelty of the stories with a measured pace that respected the grief of the witnesses. The production was meticulous, seeking symbolic images to represent the emotions expressed by the witnesses. The impunity of the Spanish army and the opacity of the institutions were constant themes throughout the film. Non-fictionParticularly significant was the visual emphasis on the isolation of the documentary filmmaker, Montse Bailac, as she requested access to official archives and reports that might help clarify the circumstances of some deaths. The responses demonstrated a lack of institutional transparency and echoed the vestiges of a dictatorial regime.
The denunciations of the two editions ofThey'll make you a man These are neither isolated cases nor an anomaly of the past: it is a state scandal that exposes the military, political, and judicial structures of the democratic period. These systematic abuses, mistreatment, and deaths at the hands of the army cannot be relegated to mere inconvenient anecdotes. prime time A harrowing television documentary that is subsequently shelved. The institutional and political indifference is outrageous. And here emerges a historical truth we have seen far too often: the documentary preaches in a space where the narrative is unsurprising because it fits perfectly with an already accepted memory of structural abuse. In Catalonia, these kinds of revelations don't reach us as a traumatic novelty, but rather as confirmation of a pattern we already know. The documentary's impact seems confined to the realm of TV3. From Spain, the capacity for state intervention is neutralized. What doesn't appear on the major Spanish media networks doesn't demand any response. The gravity of the events depends on which channel presents them. It is inevitable to wonder, out of simple democratic responsibility, whether key figures of the State from that period, such as former Defense Minister Narcís Serra, have seen the documentary or if someone has suggested they do so. It would be interesting to know if he has anything to say. The problem is not only the absence of an institutional response but the normalization of that absence. This is also a form of symbolic violence: when the work of historical memory has no consequences. I wish this time could be different.
