For 27 years, Spain’s Generalissimo Francisco Franco has ruled his country with an iron hand — although in recent years the velvet glove has been more visible. Last week, in 55 minutes, the aging (73) “Caudillo of Spain by the grace of God” announced a new consti tution that will liberalize Spanish life and politics and prepare the country for the day when he is gone. The constitution dilutes Franco’s dictatorial powers, strengthens the Cortes (Parliament), and paves the way for the government to develop into a constitutional monarchy.
Under the new constitution, announced in an elaborate ceremony in Madrid’s regal Cortes Meeting Hall, Franco will share power with a premier who will serve as chief of government as distinguished from chief of state. The premier will be picked by Franco—or, after Franco, by Spain’s next chief of state—from a list of three candidates nominated by the Council of the Realm. He will serve ‘a five-year term and be the operating head of government, subject to various checks and balances.
Whisper in the Cortes. When Franco dies or decides to step down, he will be succeeded as chief of state by a king nominated by his Cabinet and by the advisory Council of the Realm, and ratified by a three-fifths vote of the Cortes. If the Cortes does not approve the candidate, it will then pick a temporary regent to reign until a king can finally be chosen. The king, in turn, will inaugurate a royal succession in which the first male heir will inherit the throne. If normal custom is followed, the first king will be Don Juan de Borbon y Battenberg, 53, son of Spain’s last king, who is now living at Estoril in Portugal and is spending his life preparing to become a constitutional monarch.
Some years ago, a coolness arose between Franco and Don Juan, and some observers have concluded from this that Franco prefers his successor to be Don Juan’s son, Prince Juan Carlos, 28, who lives in Madrid. But Juan Carlos cannot succeed to the throne until he is 30, has said that he will not take it as long as his father is available and, in any case, has not made much of an impression at the state functions he has been trotted out for.
Whoever lands the job will have to deal with a stronger and more influential Council of the Realm and Cortes, which have up to now been mostly Franco rubber stamps.
Membership in the Council of the Realm will go from the present 13, now appointed by Franco, to 17. Of these, seven will be named by the chief of state and ten elected by the Cortes. The 611-member Cortes, meantime, will be reduced to 403 members, including 108 who will be directly elected from Spain’s 54 provinces, 25 who will be appointed by the chief of state, and 270 others who will be elected by Spain’s municipal councilmen, trade unions and professional organizations. Thus, for the first time since the Civil War, Spaniards will have a say—though yet hardly more than a whisper—in the work of the legislature.
They will also be able to worship as they please for the first time. In his new constitution, Franco eliminated Catholic Spain’s 10-year-old ban on public worship by Spain’s 30,000 Protestants and 6,000 Jews. They will be permitted to designate their places of worship with signs, and openly invite participation in their services.
For all the liberalization, Franco insisted that Spain continue without actual, organized political parties, relying instead on the new system of checks and balances within the government and the Cortes. “Every country,” he said last week, “must work this out in its own way. With us, a genuine, orderly and effective democracy excludes political parties, but this in no way implies the exclusion of legitimate contrast of opinions.” What Franco did was trim the power of his own politically potent Falange, which has long dominated the Spanish labor movement. He abolished the old laws banning strikes and requiring that only Falangistas hold top trade-union jobs.
An Answer to Demons. Franco’s new constitution is a direct outgrowth of Spain’s industrial democracy and its expanding prosperity, which no one wants to endanger by abrupt or violent political change. His hope is that under an umbrella of constitutional monarchy, Spain will continue to travel along its present liberalizing course, mixing progress with caution. “Spain,” declared Franco, “has her familiar demons—the demons of anarchy, negative criticism, lack of solidarity and extremism. The political system that best suits us is not one that cultivates and encourages these, but one that prevents and counteracts them.”
In the end, Franco admitted that his constitution was vague and cautious in parts. But it could, he insisted, be just as strong as succeeding generations want to make it. “A real democracy,” he said, “cannot be merely formalized. It requires moral and material elevation and true citizenship.” To help build that citizenship, Franco decided to submit the constitution to a public referendum Dec. 14 rather than simply decree it. In the referendum, Spain’s second in 30 years, all Spaniards over 21 will vote. After almost certain approval, the new constitution will go into effect immediately. Additional laws that translate its broad principles into actual specifics will be introduced by the government by next April or May.
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