The once-renowned Nobel laureate Camilo José Cela spoke in a memorable event about Spain as a country marked by a missed chance for renewal. The controversial Galician writer’s claim, despite the risk of drawing feminist critique, hints at Spain’s unique position in Europe. The nation did not undergo a sweeping bourgeois revolution that would have enforced the values of the French Revolution. Its nineteenth century leaned toward absolutism with only brief liberal interruptions, and the twentieth century saw the revival of old powers tied to the military after World War II. What followed was a long, painful process of recovering from a civil war that had been provoked by reactionaries, and a desire to move beyond the scars that still lingered as the country attempted to rebuild in the shadow of those past events.
When Franco died in 1975, Spain still bore remnants of a stark, closed era. Culture and a lack of ritualistic pomp characterized the end of repression, even as the military legacy persisted through the later decades of dictatorship. Gradually, collective intelligence began to surface, helping to salvage time from loss. Yet the international scene at that time showed a stark contrast. Pinochet was present at the funeral of a caudillo as the only head of state showing deference to the former dictator, while Spain had no normal practice of divorce, women lacked the right to work or to open a bank account without their husband’s permission, and crimes involving sexual violence could be dismissed as acts of honor. The social framework relied on stringent control and punitive regulation, and censorship remained a fact of life in the press and cinema, among other realms.
After Franco’s death, two Spains coexisted. The old order persisted in some forms, yet there was a shared willingness to coexist rather than pursue mutual destruction as in years past. A peaceful struggle began to modernize the country, echoing Ángel Ganivet’s diagnosis about opposing forces that pulled in different directions. The image of a genius wearing a donkey mask to play a late joke on friends captures the tension between tradition and progress that defined the era. This duality became a catalyst for the transition, shaping the path toward renewal without erasing the memory of the past.
As the Transition gained momentum with broad consensus, progressive forces set in motion reforms. In the early days of the Union of the Democratic Center, or UCD, a justice minister championed legal changes that culminated in a divorce law approved in 1981 despite initial opposition from the right. The Republic had enacted similar measures in the past, only to have them repealed during dictatorship. The UCD, the Episcopal Conference, and much of the media found themselves at the center of a delicate negotiation. Rhetoric from the Right sometimes suggested that reforms would be rolled back, yet the trajectory continued toward modernization.
Issues of personal rights also moved forward. The law on abortion began a process of liberalization in 1985 under a reformist government, gaining broader access and protections over time, with further liberalization in 2010. The debate persisted, yet the policy endured through a period of political realignment. The same political climate saw the recognition of same‑sex marriage in the mid-2000s, a landmark change that reflected a wider embrace of equal rights. Critics from the conservative side raised concerns, but the momentum toward inclusion remained compelling. The overarching arc confirmed a view once articulated by observers who warned that Spain would be carried into the modern century with insistence and momentum, even if it took a crowded, contentious road to get there.