The rise of Vox, a party that openly embraces elements of Spain's authoritarian past, has brought renewed scrutiny to Francoist attitudes in the country's centers of power. Francesc-Marc Álvaro, a former journalist and current ERC deputy, says these ideas have survived and adapted, finding new expression in contemporary politics. The debate now reaches beyond political rhetoric to the laws and institutions, including the public policies through which Spain addresses the dictatorship's legacy.
Álvaro, who spent over two decades at La Vanguardia before entering politics, describes Madrid as a city where political realities shift rapidly, while certain undercurrents remain unchanged. His experience in Congress, particularly amid far-right rhetoric, led him to examine how Vox has turned longstanding Francoist sentiments into a modern political force. Álvaro says Vox makes no secret of its association with Francoism. It brings together former PP officials and anti-abortion activists, alongside people once aligned with anti-establishment movements such as 15-M. This mix, he argues, has let Vox present itself as something new while drawing on deep-rooted traditions. Historical scholarship also warns against treating Francoism as a single, unchanging doctrine. UNED contemporary-history professor Julio Gil Pecharromán has described competing ideological currents within the authoritarian, single-party regime, which vied for influence over government and the courts.
Vox is seen as promoting an erosion of democratic norms, drawing on the later, more economically developed phase of Franco's regime rather than advocating a return to dictatorship. Álvaro says Francoist culture never fully disappeared from influential sectors. Its legacy remains in the judiciary and major corporations, as well as in the Catholic hierarchy and legal profession. Vox, he says, has repackaged these lingering embers in a postmodern style that resonates with anti-political sentiment. The party has also made use of legal institutions as part of its public profile. An analysis by the Catalan newspaper Ara notes Vox's role as a private prosecutor in prominent cases, including the Catalan independence trial, and argues that this has deepened the judicialization of political conflict.
Many who support or embody these ideas never lived under Franco. Álvaro says the political culture left after Franco's death was so entrenched that it persists even as people with direct experience of the dictatorship fade away. He sees a widespread perception that Francoism was fundamentally different from other European dictatorships, allowing its legacy to be partly rehabilitated. The PP once moved toward a more democratic right-wing model, but its dealings with Vox risk pulling it back toward its origins. That shift may unsettle genuine democrats within the party.
Álvaro also criticizes the PSOE's approach to historical memory, calling it timid and insufficiently future-oriented. He argues that the most effective memory policies should have been put in place during the early years of the Transition, when momentum for change remained. By the time Zapatero's government addressed the issue, the right had already regrouped, making meaningful progress harder. Spain's statutory structure began with the 2007 Historical Memory Law and later expanded under the Democratic Memory Law, Law 20/2022, which entered into force on 21 October 2022. It sets out state responsibilities toward victims and public recognition, and calls for the removal of dictatorship-related honors and symbols. It also provides administrative penalties for certain acts publicly exalting the military uprising, the dictatorship and those who sustained it.
Enforcement of the law has become part of the dispute. In a case concerning Falange commemorations around 20 November 2022, the Spanish government imposed a €10,001 fine. In May 2026, the National Court overturned the penalty on appeal. As Público reported, the court reasoned that Spain is not a “militant democracy” and that, in the absence of incidents, the authorized events did not warrant the sanction in the circumstances. The ruling shows how statutory penalties can be tested against courts' interpretation of the law and the facts of a particular event.
The dispute also reaches regional government. PP and Vox agreements and proposals have put “Laws of Concord” forward as alternatives to democratic-memory frameworks in territories including Andalusia and Aragón, as well as Castilla y León, the Valencian Community, the Balearic Islands and Extremadura. Proponents present these initiatives as a more balanced treatment of twentieth-century political violence. Critics, including those cited by Mundo Obrero, argue that placing the democratic Republic on an equivalent footing with Francoist repression risks weakening recognition and reparation for dictatorship victims. The practical stakes include public commemorations and exhumations, along with funding for memory programs and the removal of monuments and symbols.
In the future, Álvaro warns that Vox's strategy echoes tactics seen in the US under Trump, gradually eroding democratic boundaries instead of attacking them outright. He compares this to the 'boiling frog' effect, in which incremental changes go unnoticed until the damage is done. He suggests the ultimate goal is to drastically shrink the scope of democracy.
The far right's appeal among young people is not new, Álvaro notes, but its methods have changed. Modern propaganda reaches people directly through smartphones and social media, creating a powerful sense of personal engagement. He speculates that if such technology had existed in the 1930s, history might have turned out differently.
Vox's growth has also been linked to the fallout from the Catalan independence process, though Álvaro cautions against overstating that factor. He identifies migration, particularly from Muslim countries, as a more impressive driver of the party's narrative. In Catalonia, Vox did not take part in the first elections under Article 155. Since then, the party has positioned itself against what it casts as internal 'enemies', including Catalan and Basque nationalism, and external ones, namely immigrants.
Álvaro sees Vox and Aliança Catalana as united by a Trump-inspired focus on Muslim immigration, though their ideological roots differ. Vox draws on Francoist traditions. Aliança Catalana, by contrast, breaks with the region's historically inclusive nationalism and promotes a narrow, exclusionary vision. Álvaro notes that exclusionary attitudes have historical precedents within Catalanism, but remained marginal. He argues that Aliança Catalana draws strength from frustration over the failed independence process and the global spread of far-right ideas, producing impressive overlap between its voter base and Vox's.
On potential alliances, Álvaro makes no predictions but urges Junts to stay true to Catalanism's inclusive tradition, which defines Catalan identity through residence and participation, not origin.
Within ERC, debate continues over the party's strategy in Madrid, particularly its cooperation with other left-wing groups. Álvaro acknowledges internal differences but says there is a shared understanding of how sensitive the current political moment is. He supports strengthening ERC's distinct role in Catalonia while remaining open to specific collaborations with other progressive forces.
Spain's unresolved Francoist legacy continues to shape political debate and institutional dynamics. The law's implementation, court rulings on penalties and regional proposals to replace or reshape memory laws show that the dispute extends beyond historical interpretation. It also concerns public budgets and victim identification, as well as memorial sites and recognition for those affected by the dictatorship. As new political actors reinterpret old narratives for a changing society, how Spain addresses its past remains central to national identity and democratic ability to recover.
