"The crane operator shouted 'the son of a bitch is dead'": how ten personalities experienced Franco's death

BarcelonaThe death of dictator Francisco Franco half a century ago marked a turning point in the Transition to democracy; taking advantage of the anniversary, ten prominent figures explain to ARA what this experience was like for them.

Xavier Trias

The former mayor of Barcelona and Minister of Health in Jordi Pujol's government has a very clear memory of how he experienced the dictator's death. It was from Vall d'Hebron Hospital, where he worked as a pediatrician. The hospital was then called the Generalissimo Franco Residence: "We were all ashamed of the name our hospital had," he recalls. In any case, he says that "it was an explosion of joy," he remarks, when they saw the announcement at 11:00 a.m. "That's over," he thought about the regime. However, "the big question" they were asking themselves at that moment was: "What will the politicians do?" Despite acknowledging that he is very critical of the Transition, he maintains that "it was done relatively well, all things considered." He does, however, highlight a curious fact that happened after November 20th: "The day before Franco's death, the place was full of Franco supporters, but the next day, nobody was one."

Pilar Aymerich

Her lens captured the Transition, in which she participated from the streets. Photojournalist Pilar Aymerich recalls how she learned of Franco's death "in the analog photography lab," and when she heard it on the radio, she asked Dolores, the woman who did the work, if she "would like to toast" with her with cava. Then she found out that her husband "participated in the Asturias strike and was imprisoned." "That gives you an idea of the fear that existed. She had never told me that her husband had been captured."

Pepe Álvarez

The UGT general secretary recalls that he had been living in Catalonia for a year, having moved from Asturias, and that he spent that day "at La Maquinista, working the night shift." "When they broke the news, the tow truck driver, an old PSUC militant, started honking his horn," he reminisces. "The son of a bitch is dead, the son of a bitch is dead!" the tow truck driver yelled. An "absolute celebration" that preceded a call to his mother, who had lived through the Civil War and "suffered over everything." She begged him not to get "into trouble" and to go "to the funeral." Álvarez tried to convince her that it wasn't necessary to go and that in Barcelona "there are plenty of people and they won't tell anyone who goes."

Pep Riera

Former leader of the farmers' union Unió de Pagesos, who was imprisoned for activism, recalls feeling liberated and opening a bottle of champagne. "We were out on the streets and they were locked up at home," he remembers. Riera, who promoted democratic and cooperative schools, says the dictatorship felt "very long" to him.

Rafael Ribó

The man who was a progressive politician in the PSUC and Iniciativa, and who ended up serving as ombudsman for 18 years this century, recounts how he celebrated: "I was overcome with a feeling of joy and celebration, and that's how I experienced it with my partner and my children, who were very young, and we opened a bottle of cava." Despite his "fear" because, in his opinion, it was "the death of Franco, but not of Francoism," he dedicated himself to calling friends.

Magda Oranich

From her office, Oranich, who after the Transition entered politics with ICV and CiU, comments that she and her fellow lawyers were "quite shaken" by the last executions under Franco's regime. "Since it was assumed he was dying, we did everything we could to delay the executions," she says, because they were certain that the dictator's death would bring them to an end. When Arias Navarro announced the death on television, Oranich called "the mother of one of the executed men": "We both cried with rage [...]. If we had been able to delay it a little longer, it wouldn't have happened," she exclaims. During the day, she recalls bursts of joy "in private," although in the following days she noticed police surveillance. Among others, she defended the ETA militant Txiki; and she too suffered arrests and imprisonment.

Isona Passola

The filmmaker, producer, and screenwriter, who served as president of the Catalan Film Academy, maintains that the assassination of Carrero Blanco had a greater impact on her. "That was liberating, but Franco's death meant fighting and fighting," she says, because of "the rage it instilled in me, facing that immovable wall." In fact, she summarizes her emotions in a poem by Joan Brossa against "the oldest dictator in Europe." At home, she witnessed the gradual gains of "little by little freedom," while her father was involved in the Nova Cançó movement.

Manuel Milián Mestre

Manuel Fraga's right-hand man and a key figure in Josep Tarradellas's return had prepared to celebrate Franco's death two days before the appointed day, but ultimately had to cancel the gathering. It was José Manuel Otero Novas, a future minister, who informed him that Franco had passed away: "At around 2:30 in the morning, he couldn't think of anything better to do than call me," he maintains. He woke him up and said, "You're always the one who gives me the news, but today I'm going to tell you. Franco has just died," he told the former PP deputy, who had experienced a family tragedy during the Civil War.

Gregorio Luri

Of Navarrese origin, raised in a Carlist environment and part of the leftist movement, the philosopher Gregorio Luri describes the final years of the Franco regime thus: "It was a time of great perplexity and contradiction for a people who had lived in a certain political falsehood and economic prosperity." Also a former member of the Communist Party of Spain, he adds the fear that "older people" had at the beginning of the Transition: "They didn't want the Civil War to be repeated."

Roser Rius

On November 20th, she was in prison in Madrid, detained for belonging to the Revolutionary Communist League, which was allied with a pacifist splinter group of ETA. She recounts that the first to find out were the prisoners in the kitchen. "We were overjoyed and held a funeral," she says. They dressed up and staged a mock funeral: "One of them pretended to be the deceased, wearing a shroud," she explains, in addition to the one who sang the acquittal songs and the "mourners" who pretended to weep for the deceased they celebrated the most. The activist, who has also worked as an illustrator and children's author, was deeply affected by that imprisonment, which was preceded by torture at the hands of Antonio González Pacheco, better known by the nickname Billy the Kid.