The Basque Government has reinstated semi-freedom for María Soledad Iparragirre, known as ‘Anboto’, a former ETA leader held in Zubieta prison. The decision, made on September 2, 2026, comes five months after an Audiencia Nacional judge overturned the same arrangement, citing the seriousness of her crimes and a lack of grounds for leniency, El País reported.
The latest approval, issued by the Department of Justice and Human Rights under María Jesús San José, applies Article 100.2 of the Penitentiary Regulation. The rule allows inmates classified in second degree to leave prison on weekdays for work or volunteer activities, provided they return to sleep in jail. The prison’s treatment board unanimously supported the plan, which now sets a fixed schedule for volunteer work outside the facility. The court had previously demanded this condition, and it is now formally part of the reintegration plan, El País reported.
Unlike the previous attempt in March 2026, Iparragirre’s new semi-freedom plan ties her weekday releases to a fixed volunteer work schedule, addressing the court's earlier objections.
Iparragirre’s criminal record includes convictions for ten murders, possession of explosives, attacks, arson, weapons offenses, and crimes against the Crown. She received a 30-year sentence. Basque authorities argue that her recent conduct, including acknowledging her crimes, partially paying civil liabilities, and renouncing violence, justifies a more flexible regime. The government tried to apply Article 100.2 in March, but the Audiencia Nacional blocked it in April, finding that the gravity of her offenses outweighed signs of rehabilitation.
This is not the only case of its kind. The same judge revoked semi-freedom for Juan Ramón Carasatorre, another former member of the Donosti commando, only for the Basque Government to reapply the measure months later. Victims’ associations have sharply criticized the pattern. Consuelo Ordóñez, president of Covite, called it part of a systematic policy of progressive release for ETA prisoners that echoes the agenda of the abertzale left. The Asociación de Víctimas del Terrorismo (AVT) went further, warning that just 32 ETA inmates remain in standard prison conditions. Another 123 have third-degree status, 28 have flexible regimes, and 62 are on parole. The group says those figures amount to impunity.
The regional government says the semi-freedom regime under Article 100.2 does not automatically release inmates. It gives second-degree prisoners a flexible arrangement that requires them to return to prison each night. The opposition Partido Popular (PP) has demanded explanations from the Basque authorities, arguing that the new plan differs from the previously annulled one only because it restricts outings to volunteer work.
Democrata
Iparragirre’s involvement with ETA began in 1981. She held roles in the Araba and Madrid commands before fleeing to France. She later became one of the public faces of the group’s dissolution, reading the 2018 statement announcing ETA’s end. The government’s repeated use of Article 100.2 for high-profile prisoners has become a flashpoint. Critics argue that legal technicalities are being used to bypass judicial oversight and speed up reintegration, regardless of the original sentences.
The Basque Government presents these decisions as steps toward social reintegration and compliance with judicial requirements. The backlash from victims’ groups and the judiciary, but, reveals a deep divide over the limits of penitentiary policy. Figures cited by AVT show the scale of the change: over 200 former ETA members now benefit from some form of release. A previous investigation into political responses to security issues also found that such moves rarely escape public and institutional scrutiny.
The Basque Government’s repeated grants of semi-freedom to figures like ‘Anboto’ point to a clear strategy: prioritizing reintegration and regional autonomy over the symbolic weight of past crimes. The approach may meet legal requirements, but victims’ associations and much of the judiciary remain unconvinced. For some of Spain’s most notorious convicts, the path from prison to partial liberty now appears to depend more on administrative decisions than on judicial consensus.
