Politics, Culture, and Sociability in the Basque Nationalist Party

Roland Vazquez

• Publisher: University of Nevada Press
• Year: 2010
• ISBN:
  9780874178234
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Sociology
• Index: Social Sciences

Until now, social scientists studying Spanish politics have focused on party systems, regime transition, and election analysis, and anthropologists studying Spain have largely neglected its political parties. This book is a pathbreaking work of political anthropology and an ethnographic study of the Basque Nationalist Party (PNV). Author Roland Vazquez studies Basque nationalism as not merely a political phenomenon but as a cultural and social one as well. He examines the forces that have shaped the Basque political panorama, the nature of Basque political campaigns, Basque cultural and social movements both inside and outside the explicitly partisan milieu, and the role of other parties in the Basque Country. The study is enhanced by extensive interviews and broad fieldwork among Basque contacts of diverse backgrounds and loyalties. The result is a vivid portrait of political life in the contemporary Basque Country, of the tensions between various nationalist parties and philosophies, and of the way politics are influenced by Basque notions of community, social connections, and national identity. The book also serves as a model for studies of other political and nationalist movements and the cultural and social ties and values that drive them.

CHAPTER 1

Political Transition and Consolidation

It was February 1977. Finally, the possibility for partisan competition and participation presented itself. Only one month earlier, the Basque flag had been legalized. Fourteen months after the death of Spain’s authoritarian leader, Francisco Franco, the new Law of Political Association legalized parties and paved the way for elections. Franco’s Movement—his single, state party—was still in existence, not to be disbanded until April. Ultimately, what transition scholars call “consolidation” would only come with the crystallization of the full legitimacy of participation in the electoral arena. It would not be until 1978 that the Spanish constitution would be ratified,¹ and the 1979 negotiations between Spanish and Basque leaders that would yield an autonomy statute for the Basque Country were a thing of the future. In 1977 the path that Basque and Spanish politics would take was far from clear.

An estimated 150 fledgling parties were competing for the attention of the Spanish public, including 21 within the Basque provinces (Gunther et al. 1988:37; Pérez 1977:9). What was the climate for the “political consumers,” be they potential elites, clients, or voters? An archaeology of microinterest shows how such factors might have influenced local actors. Which would have been the most attractive party for a political aspirant to join? For a citizen to support in order to reap other benefits (clientelism, status, personal safety)? In voter perception?

Such a calculus exists and, moreover, is critical to political outcomes. At the same time, I would stress that this framing is a point of departure, and other factors and elements must be taken into consideration. Taken to the extreme, such a framework risks an overly restrictive conceptualization of politics. Although interests must be taken into account, rational action, as narrowly understood, is unable to encapsulate social reality. As Julia Adams (1999:114) notes, we need to stress the conditions over rational choice—stress the limits or limitations of strategic action rather than denying its existence. The most informed way to do so, I believe, is to expand any look at politics so that it takes into account multiple domains of existence that inform and shape it. A focus on political calculus should not and cannot be seen as the be-all and end-all encapsulating political phenomena. It is one of the pillars of this book that culture matters to what are often referred to as political outcomes. During transitional periods such as regime changes, political crises, or system realignment, culture affects both opportunity and stress, where the “rules of the game” are politically liminal by definition, until some consensus is built and legitimacy established.² While it is problematic to strike an absolute distinction between transitions and other periods in culture’s power to affect political outcomes, it is clear that culture was an important element in the transition, as it would continue to be in Basque politics.

As Luis Moreno notes, “In contemporary western European political history there has been virtually no greater concentration of power, for such a long period of time, than that held by General Franco’s Spain” (2001:90). With the legalization of parties and the opening up of the system, Basque politics was characterized by great hope and activity. Opportunities were restructured for individuals and groups alike. The rapidly changing climate demanded that political actors assess these opportunities, for both groups and their own potential place within these groups. Even the act of voting was entirely unfamiliar to anyone under sixty. The year 1977 brought the uncertainties of the transition from the authoritarian regime and new competition (Llera 1986:52–61). It also brought the beginning of a short state process that came to be depicted as an exemplar in democratic transition via elite settlement (O’Donnell and Schmitter 1989:44).

The belief in a party’s lack of viability could have deterred an individual from organizing, joining, or voting in spite of potential affinity, thereby preventing it from crossing a certain viability threshold or even from forming. Other factors, such as electoral laws and even sequencing, had ambivalent effects, contributing to the framing of a situational logic.

It must first be established that participating within the institutionalizing framework would have been perceived as advantageous. The argument could be made that the history of the extrainstitutional activity interwoven with the Basque nationalist movement provided an alternative model. It might also have been possible for local notables to maintain the power already consolidated at the margins of parties, and that party involvements would constrain their field of actions while providing only minimal payoffs. There would have to have been a local conjuncture that favored party formation or pursuing opportunities therein.³ According to such a divide, local notables could have managed to maintain political control and use it selectively in their dealings with incipient parties. Such actors might have been better served by dealing with parties while maintaining their positions vis-à-vis potential challengers. Guillermo Márquez, for example, cites the relative stability of local political notables in the region of Galicia during the new regime, taking as exemplary the words of one such individual who boasted, “I never needed parties to get votes. It was them who needed me” (1993:76, note 28).⁴ In such a hypothetical situation, clients could have attached themselves to elites at the margins of the emerging system.

The question of rupture versus reform permeated the Spanish transition. Various scholars (e.g., O’Donnell and Schmitter 1989; Linz 1990) note the tenuous nature of democratic transitions. Although a transition might appear foreordained after the fact, it is rife with uncertainty. The pervasiveness of “past accounts” renders the field of political action problematic. The question was critical in the Basque Country, the site of political and cultural repression under the Franco regime.

Toward the old regime’s end, the key question for opposition groups was whether to work within the system, thereby legitimizing it, or maintain doctrinaire purity at the cost of self-marginalization—a consideration that ultimately distinguished moderates from radicals (Wiarda 1980:304–5). If the strong sense of a need for rupture in the Basque Country manifested itself in its most extreme form in the expressed hope for independence, there was a more pervasive desire among Basque nationalists and other opposition groups to see elite and institutional turnover on all levels. Tolosa was not unique in the fact that restitution for losses resulting from persecution was not possible. A rupture with the immediate reformulation of institutions or the economic elite on all levels would have been problematic and potentially dangerous. As the 1981 attempted coup in Spain’s parliament showed, the military moment of transition overlapped with the political moment.

Nevertheless, given the transition, newfound partisan liberties, and potential for reclamation, political reconfiguration seemed certain, even if its path was not. The backlash toward the legacy of Franco created a realization that governmental power in the Basque Country would have to be consolidated largely from scratch. Parties had been illegal for so long that their return was met with a wave of popular enthusiasm and a belief they would be the most fruitful channels in effecting change.

Another consideration was the wider frame of reference. There was a general sense that other electoral democracies, especially in Western Europe, held a clue to the evolution of the political system and party prominence.⁵ Also, the evolution of Franco’s Spain was that of a country that had gradually been giving ground, opening to foreign capital and influences—ready to be included as a full player on the European and world scenes, with corresponding expectations placed on further opening in the political process and freedoms. It was increasingly clear that parties would be privileged actors because of their ability to determine many of the boundaries, their centralized access to resources, the evolution of the political system, and public perception that they were the mechanisms for doing so. One significant indicator was the exclusive participation of party representatives in the formulation of the 1978 Spanish Constitution. In addition, the use of lists and the Hondt counting system clearly favored large, organized groups, as did a variety of other electoral laws implemented to stack the deck against local independent lists and smaller parties (see Gunther et al. 1988:45–50).⁶

The result was a radical transformation in the makeup of local representation throughout Spain and the “partycratic” configuration of local electoral politics (Botella 1992:150). The quick movement to larger parties in the Basque Country and the clear benefit to these parties of the “useful vote” (Llera 1986:358; 1994:67) indicate a quick, clear transition. Partisan connections might have been more vital in the Basque Country, given the larger representational turnover. Local office through partisan channels increasingly became a springboard (Capó et al. 1988). While it was difficult to present a successful independent candidacy on the local level, upward translocal mobility was increasingly blocked to those not subsequently co-opted.⁷ The same arguments would apply to clientelism, which would increasingly pass through parties. The conjuncture presented significant organizational opportunities for partisan groups and individuals within them, irrespective of ideology.

If parties were indeed the best possibility for advancing programs and pursuing personal opportunity, the key question shifts to: which ones? For those with political ambitions, this issue would have involved evaluation of which party provided the best opportunity for local office and protection of interests. Another consideration would have been potential for upward mobility. The history of twentieth-century Spanish parties had been one of discontinuity. Even at the beginning of the Second Republic, there was a marked discontinuity with the parties that preceded the Primo de Rivera authoritarian regime (1923–30) in the number of new parties and lack of continuity of parliamentary personnel (Linz 1967:236). By the 1960s, most parties of the Republic had ceased to function as oppositional forces (Linz 1967:265)—thereby losing both the benefits of a historical legacy in public perception and the potential for an organizational head start. Such discontinuity was similarly pronounced in the Basque Country (Llera 1986:55–62). These factors would shape partisan loyalties and inform public opinion.

Organizational capacity was crucial to both performance in elections and membership recruitment. Most poor performers in 1977 suffered from organizational deficiencies (Gunther et al. 1988:392). The failure of such parties would have been clear in most cases. They would have neither managed unified action, convinced the electorate with well-formulated programs, nor organized to the extent that they could present lists of candidates in all or most circumscriptions. Given the plethora of parties, choices were not clear-cut. Even those having some clandestine support and organization were largely starting anew, with no immediate electoral precursors or previous institutional experience.

An evaluation of four political forces—the PCE, the UCD, the AP, and the Carlist Party—shows the difficulties that largely inhibited their potential for political relevance. While these are by no means extended case studies, a brief look at their lack of success provides clues to the emergence of Basque party politics. These four were among the parties with the best chances amidst the myriad of potential contenders. Addressing their chances and, especially, explaining their problems in crossing the organizational threshold necessary for viability relates to individual incentives and opportunities within emerging groups, as well as an understanding of the cultural milieu. This is important insofar as it places the more successful candidates in relief and shows what sort of conjuncture would have been necessary for a party to cross such a threshold.

The PCE (Partido Comunista de España, or Spanish Communist Party) had been the best-developed party on the state level immediately prior to the transition. Founded in 1920 but marginal through the Spanish Civil War, by Franco’s death it was one of the three parties possessing the most continuity and greatest historical legacy (Caciagli 1986:18), and it was the singularly best-organized opposition force statewide (Gunther et al. 1988:59, 158), as well as the umbrella for the country’s most powerful labor union. The PCE presented lists at all levels and in all areas, including the 1979 Tolosa municipal elections.

These would seem to be factors in favor of the PCE. But, several others weighed against it in the Basque Country, whether for voting or activism. The party continued to define itself as “Marxist-Leninist,” using the term “Leninism” until April 1978 (Gunther et al. 1988:63–64, 152). Although the PCE generally was seen as responsible during the transition period, it also had a legacy of violence by hard-line factions into the early 1970s and an image of disruptiveness (ibid.:65, 149). A related factor was the success of longstanding propaganda campaigns directed against communism in general and the party in particular by the Franco regime (Linz 1967:266). Perhaps the greatest obstacle for the PCE to overcome was its status at the transition’s outset. Despite the February 1977 legalization of parties, a ban was placed on the PCE. This ban was not lifted until April, less than two months before the elections (Carr and Fusi 1984:218). The surprise removal left the PCE ill suited for elections—especially in its attempt to restructure from a clandestine, hostile opposition in both presentation and infrastructure. In addition, the party would have to compete for the Spanish-left vote in the Basque Country with a socialist party with stellar state leadership, in one of the few regions in which this latter force was better developed prior to the transition. Polls showed the PCE the leading second choice of Spain’s electorate, bringing up the horseshoe-hand grenade dilemma in a system unfavorable to nonprimary parties. Additional competition came from left-oriented Basque nationalist alternatives.

Another factor was difficulty in defining the PCE’s image. The result was occasional violence combined with moderate rhetoric, stemming from leadership ties to Euro-Communism and commitment to democratic pluralism (Carr and Fusi 1984:238–39). On the state level, the party’s moderation did not pay the hoped-for dividends (Edles 1995:365–66) and resulted in image confusion. In addition, the PCE’s internal authoritarian tradition created a generational clash based on differing expectations. Lack of upward mobility discouraged recruits, both recent and potential. The leadership’s democratic rhetoric was unsuccessful in moderating the party’s image in a society where less than 10 percent of voters were self-defined Marxists (Gunther et al. 1988:155, 264). Ultimately, no single agent or group of leaders was capable of redirecting it. These factors contributed to the organizational and electoral weakness of the PCE in the Basque Country (Linz et al. 1986:553–56).

The UCD (Union de Centro Democrático, or Union of the Democratic Center) would be the major player attempting to occupy central party space in Spain. One favorable factor was that its state-level elites were the critical players in orchestrating the transition. The party included old-regime tendencies toward moderation and Christian Democracy—one of the two tendencies predictable as a major force in Spanish politics (Linz 1967:267). It inherited the traditionalist, Christian Democrat, corporatist electoral space of the right-wing CEDA (Confederación Española de Derechas Autónomas, or Spanish Confederation of the Autonomous Right) from the Second Republic. Through its old-regime ties, it had an organizational head start, reaching into a segment of the population (Köhler 1995:135). In the Basque Country, with 13 percent of the vote, the UCD would outpoll all other state parties in 1977.

But, in spite of its initial electoral success, several factors worked against the UCD in Spain, and more in the Basque Country. Even after the Spanish parliament convened, it was still a fragmented, unstable coalition, not a party sensu stricto. It suffered from infrastructural weaknesses, limited membership, internal factionalism, and conditional loyalty from members and voters alike (Gunther et al. 1988:127, 130, 138). Its problems were more pronounced in the Basque Country. The fact that, at the outset, the UCD arguably occupied the metrical center of the party system was offset by its overlap on most issues with the PNV (Ruiz et al. 1998:248). In addition, the historical transfer of Catholicism to first the Carlist and later the nationalist cause inhibited non-Basque-nationalist Catholic alternatives (Linz 1967:229, 247), virtually removing this electoral clientele. And, unlike some other parties, the UCD had no sense of organic historical legacy.

This set of circumstances dictated the lack of electoral space and, added to lack of organization in the Basque Country, resulted in its poor showing, especially outside the capitals. The UCD had no local organization in Tolosa. It did not present lists in Gipuzkoa for the 1977 provincial, 1979 provincial, or 1979 municipal elections. Interest in promoting the UCD would have required local incentive and groundwork—a task different from joining a party with at least a modicum of local or regional organization. The history of irredentist nationalist reprisals was also discouraging, especially given identification of state party elite with the previous regime and an anti-Basque narrative. This factor would have been more prevalent in Tolosa’s nonurban, face-to-face environment. The conjuncture would result in the UCD’s electoral weakness in Tolosa (Linz et al. 1986:544). It is not surprising that local organization never materialized.

The AP (Alianza Popular, or Popular Alliance) was subject to similar limitations to those of the UCD, but even more so. The AP was the party best organized to stake a claim to the Spanish right, but even on the state level, the public doubted its commitment to democratic reform (Gunther et al. 1988:170–74). Most other parties concentrated their attacks on the AP prior to and during the 1977 campaign (ibid.:5, 271), demonstrating the strong anti-AP climate and the party’s peripheral place in the emerging system. It was subject to a lack of organization and a more marked legitimation deficit in the Basque Country, especially Gipuzkoa (López 1988:1...