Vox's ascent has reignited debate over the enduring presence of Francoist attitudes in Spain's institutions. Francesc-Marc Álvaro warns that these ideas, now repackaged, remain influential in key sectors.
The persistence of Francoist attitudes within Spain's centers of power has come under renewed scrutiny following the rise of Vox, a party that openly embraces elements of the country's authoritarian past. Francesc-Marc Álvaro, a former journalist and current ERC deputy, highlights how these ideas have not only survived but adapted, finding new expression in contemporary politics.
Álvaro, who spent over two decades at La Vanguardia before entering politics, describes Madrid as a city where political realities shift rapidly, yet certain undercurrents remain unchanged. His experience in Congress, particularly in the face of far-right rhetoric, led him to examine how Vox has managed to channel longstanding Francoist sentiments into a modern political force. According to Álvaro, Vox does not shy away from its association with Francoism, instead integrating a mix of former PP officials, anti-abortion activists, and even individuals once aligned with anti-establishment movements like 15-M. This blend, he argues, has allowed Vox to present itself as something new while drawing on deep-rooted traditions.
Rather than advocating a return to dictatorship, Vox is seen as promoting a hollowing out of democratic norms, referencing the later, more economically developed phase of Franco's regime. Álvaro points out that the normalization of Francoist culture has never fully disappeared from influential sectors—ranging from the judiciary and major corporations to the Catholic hierarchy and legal profession. Vox, he says, has simply given these lingering embers a new, postmodern packaging that resonates with anti-political sentiment.
One striking aspect is that many who support or embody these ideas never lived under Franco. Álvaro notes that the political culture left after Franco's death was so entrenched that it persists even as those with direct experience of the dictatorship fade away. He observes a widespread perception that Francoism was fundamentally different from other European dictatorships, which has enabled a partial rehabilitation of its legacy. While the PP once moved toward a more democratic right-wing model, its interactions with Vox risk pulling it back toward its origins—a development that may unsettle genuine democrats within the party.
Álvaro is also critical of the PSOE's approach to historical memory, describing it as timid and insufficiently future-oriented. He argues that the most effective memory policies should have been implemented during the early years of the Transition, when there was still momentum for change. By the time Zapatero's government addressed the issue, the right had already regrouped, making meaningful progress more difficult.
Looking ahead, Álvaro warns that Vox's strategy mirrors tactics seen in the US under Trump, gradually eroding democratic boundaries rather than attacking them outright. He likens this to the 'boiling frog' effect, where incremental changes go unnoticed until the damage is done. The ultimate goal, he suggests, is to drastically shrink the scope of democracy.
The appeal of the far right among young people is not new, Álvaro notes, but the methods have evolved. Modern propaganda, delivered directly via smartphones and social media, creates a powerful sense of personal engagement. He speculates that if such technology had existed in the 1930s, the outcomes of history might have been different.
Vox's growth has also been linked to the fallout from the Catalan independence process, though Álvaro cautions against overstating this factor. He identifies migration, particularly from Muslim countries, as a more significant driver of the party's narrative. In Catalonia, Vox did not even participate in the first elections under Article 155, but the party has since positioned itself against both internal (Catalan and Basque nationalism) and external (immigrant) 'enemies.'
Comparing Vox to Aliança Catalana, Álvaro sees both parties united by a Trump-inspired focus on Muslim immigration, though their ideological roots differ. While Vox draws on Francoist traditions, Aliança Catalana breaks with the region's historically inclusive nationalism, instead promoting a narrow, exclusionary vision. He notes that, despite some historical precedents for exclusionary attitudes within Catalanism, these were always marginal. Aliança Catalana, he argues, is fueled by both frustration over the failed independence process and the global spread of far-right ideas, creating a significant overlap in voter bases with Vox.
On the question of potential alliances, Álvaro refrains from predictions but urges Junts to remain true to the inclusive tradition of Catalanism, which defines Catalan identity by residence and participation rather than origin.
Within ERC, debates continue over the party's strategy in Madrid, particularly regarding cooperation with other left-wing groups. Álvaro acknowledges internal differences but emphasizes a shared understanding of the sensitivity of the current political moment. He supports reinforcing ERC's distinct role in Catalonia, while remaining open to specific collaborations with other progressive forces.
For context, Spain's ongoing struggle with its Francoist legacy continues to shape political discourse and institutional dynamics. The Law of Historical Memory, first introduced in 2007 and later expanded, has faced implementation challenges and fierce opposition from conservative sectors. The debate over how to address the past remains central to questions of national identity and democratic resilience, especially as new political actors reinterpret old narratives for a changing society.
