from History and Memory Volume 14, Numbers 1& 2Introduction
A Political FuneralRaanan Rein
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Before daybreak on 14 November 1946, in the Argentine province of Córdoba, Manuel de Falla passed away suddenly in his sleep, a few days before his seventieth birthday. The death of Spain's greatest twentieth-century composer marked the beginning of a battle for the appropriation of his memory and his work, as both Francoists and Republican exiles sought to enlist the great artist for their cause, even after his death.1
De Falla's death came during one of the most difficult times that Francisco Franco's government was ever to experience during the forty-odd years of its existence. The regime was under heavy international pressure from both Western and Eastern countries; the Republican government-in-exile and its supporters around the world were pursuing a propaganda campaign against it; and a severe drought was ravaging the economy and creating pockets of famine in various parts of the country. In light of these circumstances, Franco's opponents were hopeful that, before long, the Spanish dictatorship would go the way of its former allies, the defeated regimes of Benito Mussolini and Adolf Hitler. Thus, the conflict between the Spanish regime and its foreign and domestic opponents was at its peak. In this conflict symbols and prestige were of great significance, since they enhanced the legitimacy of the camp that could claim them.
Manuel de Falla was famed as the composer of the ballets El amor brujo (Love, the Magician) and El sombrero de tres picos (The Three-Cornered Hat), and of the symphonic poem for piano and orchestra Noches en los jardines de España (Nights in the Gardens of Spain).2 His political views were not completely clear; he was a man of sounds rather than words. Although a devout Catholic, he never came out publicly in favor of the Nationalists' crusade. After the Nationalist victory in the Spanish Civil War, he chose to leave the country of his birth, later turning down a tempting offer from the Francoist dictatorship to return from his self-imposed exile. From that time on, he never again took a public stand on political issues, leaving the way open for aggressive attempts by both competing camps to align him and his prestige with their own cause.
The tug-of-war between the Francoist regime and the Republican exiles in Argentina over the revered composer's body and memory was only one of twentieth-century Spain's unending battles over collective memory and historical consciousness--battles that are the focus of this monographic issue of History and Memory. While the Republican exiles wanted de Falla's body to remain buried in the Argentine Republic, the Nationalists wanted to take him back to Spain and hold a state funeral for him there. Their purpose, of course, was to identify the Andalusian composer with the Franco regime, the "exclusive representative of the authentic Spain." In this battle, as in the Civil War itself, the Nationalists prevailed. De Falla's remains were transferred to Spain, where the regime made good propagandistic use of them to enhance its prestige at home and abroad.
The news of de Falla's death reached Buenos Aires on the same day that the Argentine president, Juan Perón, was meeting with a Spanish trade delegation. The Spanish ambassador, José Muñoz Vargas, Conde de Bulnes, feared that the Republican exiles in Argentina and their supporters would turn de Falla's funeral into an anti-Francoist demonstration just when relations between the Spanish and Argentine governments were at a high point. Two weeks earlier, after brief negotiations, the two countries had signed an important economic agreement in Buenos Aires that guaranteed Spain, teetering on the brink of famine, hundreds of thousands of tons of grain on easy credit terms.3
Accordingly, the ambassador wasted no time in urging his friends in the upper ranks of the Peronist regime to persuade President Perón to act--once again--to thwart the Republican exiles' plans, which were to turn the deceased composer into yet another symbol of opposition to the dictatorship that ruled their homeland. On this occasion, as in the past, Perón was amenable, and took steps to rein in the Spanish Republicans living in his country. Although Argentine public opinion was for the most part pro-Republican throughout the years 1936–1949, Perón's government extended important economic, political and diplomatic aid to Francoist Spain in the second half of the 1940s, thereby helping the Spanish dictatorship survive the critical years of transition between World War II and the Cold War. Analysis of the relations between the two states shows that each time the Perón government wanted to enhance its ties with the Franco regime, it clamped down on the Republican exiles and limited their possibilities of protest. Such was also the case following the death of the Spanish composer.
Meanwhile, Dr. Pedro Ara, cultural attaché at the Spanish embassy in Argentina from 1940 to 1967, urged de Falla's sister to keep the composer's remains out of the hands of the exiles. According to the Argentine press, María del Carmen, who was well aware of the political significance of her decision, hesitated for a long time before assenting to the transfer of her brother's remains to Spain.4
The authorities in Buenos Aires sent a telegram to the governor of Córdoba ordering him to extend full honors to the body of the celebrated composer and "not to permit the enemies of the regime currently in power in Spain to use [this] unhappy occasion to disturb [the peace]."5 Pedro Ara, an expert in anatomy and pathology, immediately left for Córdoba at the ambassador's instructions, to ensure that the body was not seized by "the Reds" or used as a weapon against the Franco regime, and to embalm it so that it could be transferred to Spain.6 At the same time, Ara, together with de Falla's sister, packed up Don Manuel's letters and musical scores and deposited them in a Córdoba bank to keep them safe from the enemies of the Spanish regime. The Franco government was determined not to relinquish either de Falla's body or any item associated with him, given their symbolic significance.
A month later de Falla's remains were sent to Buenos Aires, where they were rushed from the Retiro train station to the port and loaded on board the Cabo de Buena Esperanza with a haste intended, again, to forestall any protest that might be mounted by the Republicans and Argentine leftists. In a telegram to the Foreign Ministry in Madrid, Ambassador Bulnes boasted of his success:
Sent your Excellency telegram from Córdoba to inform you as soon as possible of defeat of Spanish Red maneuvers combined with certain Argentine extremist elements who were even preparing to seize corpse of Maestro Falla to prevent provisional transfer Spanish Carmelites. With my presence. . . and efficient collaboration of [Argentine] authorities, which warned in advance of said disturbances, everything went perfectly.7
To prevent Argentine public opinion from receiving the impression that Francoist Spain was repatriating de Falla's body against the wishes of the deceased, the Spanish embassy in Buenos Aires launched a propaganda campaign. During the first week after de Falla's demise, it published several death notices in which it stressed that by deciding to transfer the remains to Spain the Franco government was honoring the wishes of the deceased, who on various occasions had expressed his intention of returning to his homeland when his health permitted. Various Spanish exile and Argentine left-wing organizations returned fire through their own organs, joined by liberal and conservative newspapers, claiming that the Spanish embassy's version of events was inaccurate and actually distorted de Falla's real wishes. They wanted to ensure that de Falla would not be identified with the Iberian dictatorship.
The Socialist weekly, La Vanguardia, wrote that de Falla had scarcely closed his eyes for the last time before the Francoist diplomats fell on his body like "greedy vultures," exploiting him as propaganda to further the interests of a government that the deceased had not hesitated to condemn:
Now, the detestable Spanish dictatorship sheds crocodile tears over [de Falla's] still warm remains and seeks to carry them off to the Peninsula, violating, with the complicity of certain religious organizations, the express wishes of the deceased. Paradoxically as it may seem, this is a common occurrence. Tyrannies on both sides of the ocean exile and embitter the existence of many eminent and illustrious men; but the minute they die these regimes rush to shower them with hypocritical honors. [This is] a kind of grave-robbing ghoulishness very much in keeping with their bird-of-prey mentality and methodsÖ.8
The Franco regime, which had not been able to take credit for de Falla and his achievements during his lifetime, tried to do so now after his death. María del Carmen, de Falla's sister, wanting to honor his views and way of life, sought to avoid ceremonies of a political nature, despite the pressure from the Spanish embassy. From Córdoba she wrote to her brother Germán in Spain:
As regards Manolo's body, do whatever you can to avoid any political homage, which always horrified him and seemed to him a kind of "secular funeral." Remembering what he used to tell me, I prohibited it here. They wanted to take him to the theater, but I put my foot down and they obeyed me.9
Although the Spanish embassy in Argentina respected her wishes, in Spain matters were out of her hands. By 15 November the Spanish government was already meeting to discuss the official reception and ceremonies that would take place in Cádiz when the coffin arrived.10 The Spanish press, which was completely controlled by the regime, gave wide coverage to the death of the man described as "the most universal artist that Spain has given [humanity] since [Francisco] Goya."11 At the beginning of January 1947 the appointment of a committee to organize the reception and funeral ceremonies was announced. The body of the composer who had detested noise and spectacular gestures was received with impressive pageantry on 9 January 1947 in Cádiz, the city of his birth.
The funeral was a blatantly political event. The inhabitants of Cádiz were treated to the pomp and circumstance of a funeral procession in which three elements were evident: the Nationalist, the military, and the religious--the components of National Catholicism, a mixture of nationalism and militant Catholicism that formed the core of the Franco regime's ideological identity. When the coffin was unloaded from the ship, cannons boomed, as if announcing "de Falla is in our hands." The procession then left the harbor and slowly wound its way through the streets of the city, past houses festooned with black ribbons, up to the doors of the local cathedral.12 There de Falla's casket was placed on a splendid bier mounted on a gun carriage hitched to four horses, with a cross fluttering above. The casket was followed by a carriage laden with floral wreaths. These were the central and most impressive elements of the procession, in which many notables marched, including Raimundo Fernández Cuesta, the minister of justice, representing General Franco; the bishop of Cádiz; representatives of the municipalities of Madrid, Barcelona, Seville, Granada and Cádiz; emissaries of the Argentine government; and representatives of national cultural organizations.13
Only a month earlier the Francoist propaganda machine had sent hundreds of thousands of Spaniards out into the streets of the major cities to demonstrate against the United Nations Assembly's decision to impose an international diplomatic boycott on Spain; now it proved itself again in Cádiz. At the behest of the authorities, all businesses in the city were closed during the funeral procession, and the masses were called to attend the ceremony. By identifying de Falla with the dictatorship--even though he had definitely never been a Francoist--the funeral procession had become in some sort a celebration of the triumph of the values fostered by the Nationalist victors of the Civil War.
Beyond the specific purpose of the mourning and commemoration ceremony, the authorities intended to transmit a symbolic message through the spectacle of a large crowd gathering together for a common purpose at a time when much of the world was predicting the imminent end of the Francoist dictatorship under the double burden of economic misery and international pressure. The funeral was supposed to demonstrate publicly both the unity of the Spanish people (despite the propaganda of the regime's opponents) and the people's courage and readiness to fight off foreign attempts to intervene in Spain's internal affairs (despite the international diplomatic boycott). Like every event designed to create a sense of unity and to strengthen community values, the funeral rites marked out the enemies of the regime, those individuals "beyond the pale" who did not participate in this national-political-religious celebration of "the authentic Spain."
The deputy minister of education--chairman of the committee organizing the ceremonies--obtained a special permit to bury de Falla in the crypt of the cathedral in Cádiz. The Pope immediately gave his consent, and Don Manuel was granted the title of "hijo predilecto de la Iglesia" (favored son of the Church).14 The Republican exiles were forced to watch helplessly from afar as the great composer's memory was politically exploited by the regime they hated so much--a regime which, despite all their hopes, was not to be budged even by the Allied victory in World War II. The Generalissimo who had won the Civil War also won the battle for the body of Manuel de Falla.
The battle over the remains of Manuel de Falla is an eloquent illustration of the continuing struggle over historical memories in Spain. Yet, relatively little attention has been given to studies of memory--individual or collective, private or public--in twentieth-century Spain. This is especially true in the English-language historiography. The present collection of articles, written by leading Spanish and Anglo-Saxon scholars, seeks to--at least partially--fill this vacuum. The volume deals with the conflicting memories underpinning national and regional identities; with politics of commemoration and their role in creating bonds of solidarity or sowing the seeds of discord; with the search for a usable past and the struggle over the interpretation of history; with the traumatic memory of the Civil War and Francoist repression and the role it played in the transition from dictatorship to democracy. We hope that it will encourage others to further explore these issues, which are the subject of such intense debate in Spain today.
Notes1. For a fuller analysis of the case, see my "Música, exilio y memoria -- la lucha por los restos de Manuel de Falla," Journal of Iberian and Latin American Studies 2, no. 2 (1996): 22–39.
2. On Manuel de Falla and his work, see, among others: John Brande Trend, Manuel de Falla and Spanish Music (New York, 1929); Jaime Pahissa, Vida y obra de Manuel de Falla (Buenos Aires, 1956); Suzanne Demarquez, Manuel de Falla (Philadelphia, 1968); Federico Sopeña, Vida y obra de Falla (Madrid, 1988); Carol A. Hess, Manuel de Falla and Modernism in Spain, 1898–1936 (Chicago 2001). For a fuller bibliography, see Gilbert Chase and Andrew Budwig, Manuel de Falla: A Bibliography and Research Guide (New York 1986); Nancy Lee Harper, Manuel de Falla: A Bio-Bibliography (Westport, CT, 1998).
3. On Argentine aid to Francoist Spain, see Raanan Rein, The Franco-Perón Alliance: Relations Between Spain and Argentina, 1946–1955 (Pittsburgh, 1993); Beatriz J. Figallo, El protocolo Perón-Franco: Relaciones hispano-argentinas 1942–52 (Buenos Aires, 1992); Mónica Quijada, "Relaciones hispano-argentinas, 1936–1948: Coyunturas de crisis" (Ph.D. diss., Universidad Complutense, Madrid, 1990).
4. La Prensa (Buenos Aires), 16–18 Nov. 1946.
5. Cited in Pedro Ara, El caso Eva Perón (Madrid, 1974), 40.
6. Spanish Ambassador in Buenos Aires, José Muñoz Vargas, Conde de Bulnes, to Foreign Ministry, Archivo del Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores (Madrid) (hereafter AMAE), Leg. R.1279/1, 14 Nov. 1946 and 9 Dec. 1946; La Prensa, 15 Nov. 1946.
7. Bulnes to Foreign Ministry, AMAE, ibid., 21 Nov. 1946.
8. La Vanguardia (Buenos Aires), 26 Nov. 1946.
9. Cited in Jorge de Persia, Los últimos años de Manuel de Falla (Madrid, 1993), 247.
10. La Nación (Buenos Aires), 15 Nov. 1946.
11. ABC (Madrid), 15 Nov. 1946.
12. On the political use of state funerals, see Avner Ben-Amos, Funerals, Politics and Memory in Modern France, 1789–1996 (New York, 2000). See also Atieno Odhiambo, "Silences of the Living, Orations of the Dead: The Struggle in Kenya for S. M. Otieno's Body," in Gerald Sider and Gavin Smith, eds., Between History and Histories: The Making of Silences and Commemorations (Toronto, 1998), 180–98.
13. La Prensa, 10 Jan. 1947.
14. Sopeña, Vida y obra, 238.
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