The mortal remains of General Francisco Franco (1892-1975) were exhumed from the Los Caidos valley and transferred to the Pardo cemetery on October 24, 2019, after a year and a half of judicial proceedings between the Socialist Government and the family of the former head of state.
Following the example of the Caesars in Rome—with less talent—Pedro Sanchez knows how to wield the damnatio memoriae when he deems it necessary. As a true socialist heir to the bloody anti-Christian republic proclaimed in 1931, the Spanish prime minister made the exhumation of the Caudillo one of his priorities.
Thursday, October 24, 2019 marks the epilogue of a judicial bullfight that began in June 2018 and the fatal blow of which was brought by the Spanish Supreme Court which, on September 25, 2019, rejected the last appeal filed by the family of the former head of state.
At 10:55a.m., the government confirmed that the exhumation had started, in the presence of members of the family and the Minister of Justice Dolores Delgado. At 11:01, the remains of the Caudillo were transferred by helicopter to the municipal cemetery of Pardo, in the suburbs of Madrid, where his wife is buried.
The Benedictines of Los Caidos—who since 1975 have been guarding the august remains—until the end, were the only ones to make their opposition to the decision of the Spanish courts known.
So, the prior of the Benedictine community, Fr. Santiago Cantera, made a protest to Pope Francis: “the actions of the security forces and workers are totally incompatible with the principle of inviolability of our place of worship and goes against the right of exemption of our Benedictine community,” said the monk in a statement issued on October 23, 2019.
The media keep talking about a gigantic mausoleum that Franco had built to his glory to maintain a type of personality cult, even after his death. Nothing is more false. The truth is that Los Caidos is a national necropolis containing the remains of more than 30,000 victims of the civil war, Nationalists as well as Republicans. A symbol of national reconciliation, placed in the shadow of the Cross, it had become unbearable for atheistic and revengeful democrats.
In contrast, several admirers of the figure of General Franco had gathered, summing up the reason for their attachment: “He saved the Church and kept us safe from Communism.”
Neither the King nor the Catholic Church of Spain—who owe their salvation to the energetic action of Franco—have seen fit to raise a voice in disagreement with that of the government. St. Bernard said: “Ingratitude is a burning wind that dries the source of all goodness for itself” (Sermon 51 on the Canticle of Canticles).