There are those who had never set foot in the Cuelgamuros Valley, others did so when they did not even know that the remains of their loved ones were there and some visited to be as close as possible to them, as close as possible to the Francoist ignominy. not allowing them to recover his remains, even in a democracy, allowed them. Although in 2019 there had already been an official visit for several of them, none like this Monday, when the first 15 families of the victims buried there by Franco without their knowledge and consent entered to see on site the exhumation work that the Government is carrying out in the bowels of the Francoist mausoleum.
They are a small part of the 60 who accepted the invitation of the Secretary of State for Democratic Memory, Fernando Martínez, who, after Pedro Sánchez’s visit to the basilica, sent a letter to the 166 families who claim the remains of their parents, uncles or grandparents. Every Monday, when Cuelgamuros – formerly the Valley of the Fallen – does not accept tourists, a maximum of 45 descendants will enter in five shifts of approximately an hour and a half accompanied by the forensic team and archaeologists who work on the exhumations and a psychologist to support them emotionally.
It is precisely the psychologist who receives the relatives on the esplanade that gives access to the basilica. The idea is to “help them anticipate what they are going to find,” explains Miguel Ángel Estévez, one of the two professionals appointed by the College of Psychologists of Madrid to accompany them. “Keep in mind that attending a forensic laboratory, for someone who is not used to it, has a great emotional impact because it is a long table on which human remains such as femurs or skulls with signs of violence are placed,” he explains.
They gave us all the explanations and answered our questions. What they do is commendable work, very technical and very scientific.
Fausto Canales
After leaving the cell phones at the entrance and putting on the protective equipment (suits, gloves, masks, etc.), here is the first stop of the visit: the laboratory where 300 bone samples await analysis and genetic identification. There, the specialists, led by coroner Francisco Etxeberria, offer many details about the basilica and the work they have been doing there since last June. “They gave us all the explanations and answered our questions. What they do is commendable work, very technical and very scientific,” says Fausto Canales, who has already been able to recover the remains of his father Valerico and bury him with dignity.
Then, visitors access the crypts where they can see the bones on which the work began. This is the chapel of the Holy Sepulchre, to the right of the altar, divided into five levels of columbariums where the regime deposited and stacked the boxes with the remains. Today, at least at the lowest levels and due to humidity, the passage of time and institutional neglect, many of these boxes have collapsed and the bones have mixed with their remains and the sand of the mass graves in which they were found one day. they brought many of these victims. In total, 33,846 victims of the civil war and the dictatorship are buried there.
“A meticulous work”
“I had seen photos, but the reality is beyond anything you can imagine. Those who talk about desecration have no knowledge of what is done there because it is the opposite, it is kindness, respect and work with scientific methods,” explains Fausto, who was present accompanied by his son and nephew. Miguel Ángel Estévez, the psychologist, describes this “meticulous work” of extreme complexity: “We think from home that it is the same as opening a door, taking a box and giving it to them, but now we understand that it is not the same thing. What you see is very hard and we try to accompany them to face it, but also to become aware of it and manage their expectations.
I won’t live long enough to thank you for the work you do. It’s a lot of satisfaction, but on the other hand, when you’re there, you realize how difficult it is.
Jasone Aretxabaleta
It was with “mixed feelings” that Jasone Aretxabaleta, who is having his uncle buried there, left the visit. “I will not live long enough to thank you for the work you do, not only for the families but for all those who think in democratic terms. It is a great satisfaction, but on the other hand, when you are there, you realize how difficult it is. My uncle is in the chapel of the Blessed Sacrament, which they have not yet accessed and we do not know if they will have it, today I see him in the distance…”, Jasone reflects.
His uncle, Alexandre Aretxabaleta Goikoetxea, enlisted in Franco’s troops during the Civil War because someone had promised him that if he did so, his father, a Republican, would be released from prison. However, Alexandre died at the front at the age of 19 and his father remained in prison for another seven years. “We thought he had been buried in Makina, a town in Bizkaia, so we didn’t look for him, but five years ago we discovered that he was in the Valley according to the list drawn up by Gogora – the Basque Institute of Memory, Coexistence and Human Rights – and we were shocked,” says Josane, who feels “angry” because two of her brothers and another of her nephews, the one who started this battle with her, are already dead “and they won’t be able to see” how the mausoleum is coming out.
“I was shocked and it was very difficult for me to see that. What you see are the remains of people who once had names and surnames and a family that, in many cases, does not even know that they are there because they were stolen. It seemed wrong to me to look at them, I just thought about how it is possible that this barbarity was authorized,” sums up the woman, who regrets the obstacles that Francoist and far-right groups put in place against exhumations. A legal offensive that adds to the technical difficulties and that all the descendants describe as a way of adding even more pain to a search that, in many cases, lasts several decades.
feel close
Despite the harshness, for some visitors, seeing the remains or feeling close to their family is comforting. “They go as far as possible, to the point that if they get close, they step on the remains. We were able to take a person this Monday to within three meters of his grandfather. They could not guarantee exactly what the remains were suspected to be, but they had located the box, they know where it was placed. There is an extraordinarily painful part in all this, they feel helpless because they are families who have not been able to bury their loved ones, but in many cases there is also a trace of peace,” says Estévez.
I felt close to Benito as soon as I saw the cross from the road. We are here, we are close, I thought.
Inigo Artetxe
Iñigo Artetxe is looking for his great-uncle Benito Artetxe Berasategi, who died in Teruel in 1937, and for the first time this Monday he set foot in the place where he is. “I felt close to Benito the moment I saw the cross from the road. We are here, we are close, I thought. If we are lucky and everything goes well, Benito will return to Amorebieta (Bizkaia), a place he should never have left, so that he can rest in peace with his brother and nephews”, describes Iñigo, who, like the others, has only words of admiration for the team: “What they are doing is incredible because they have everything against them.”
While the majority wait, the remains of 12 victims have already been returned to their families. Along with Fausto Canales, who also hopes to get his uncle back, Yolanda Meneses received this summer the remains of her maternal grandfather, Rito Martín Redondo, who was part of cabin 198, where several Republicans shot in August 1936 from Pajares de Adaja and Navalmoral de la Sierra (Ávila) were buried. “For me, the visit meant, above all, realizing that on the other side there are professionals who work hard and who have finally gotten my grandfather out, but there is still a lot of work to do,” says Yolanda. The few who have already managed to close the wound want others to do the same.
