This week, on the 11th of March, we marked the 10th
anniversary of Spain’s worst-ever terrorist attack. On the eve of that anniversary, something happened that hasn’t been
seen in this country since 2007: all the main Victims of Terrorism groups stood
together in an act of remembrance of that terrible day.
It seems unbelievable that this could be the case; that such an atrocity didn’t unite the country as it did the United States after September 11. Of course, in the beginning it did, but it didn’t take long for politics to pollute things.
It seems unbelievable that this could be the case; that such an atrocity didn’t unite the country as it did the United States after September 11. Of course, in the beginning it did, but it didn’t take long for politics to pollute things.
On that crisp morning of March 11, 2004, fundamentalist Islamic
terrorists left 13 backpacks chock-full of explosives on four of Madrid’s
suburban trains (Cercanías). Using
the clocks in mobile phones, the bombs were timed to go off within minutes of
each other during the hora punta
(rush hour). The result was 191 passengers killed and more than 1800 injured.
I wasn’t living in Madrid at the time, but I can understand
the disbelief, pain and fear the Madrileños would have suffered that day. I was
a London resident when, just a little over a year later, its transport system
was attacked and its people killed.
The day after the attack, more than two million Madrileños braved
the pouring rain to take to the streets in both homage to the victims and to
furiously demand an end to terrorism in their country. Similar marches were
held all over the country. The solidarity and dignity visible in the images of Madrid’s main thoroughfares
filled to overflowing in a sea of umbrellas and banners are both impressive and
very moving.
But the attacks took place just three days out from a
general election. Up until 11-M, as the Spanish call both this day and the
attacks, the incumbent government of the conservative Partido Popular (People’s
Party - PP) was ahead of the opposition Socialist Party in almost all the
polls.
The government’s immediate conclusion, and that of just
about everyone else, put the blame squarely on the shoulders of the Basque
terrorist group ETA. It made sense; ETA terror had cost the lives of more than
800 people in Spain during their 30-odd years (at the time) of violent
activity.
Very quickly however, literally in a matter of hours, doubts
began to arise in the minds of police, security forces, terrorism experts and
journalists - militant Islam started to look like a possible culprit. But the government
steadfastly refused to accept that ETA was not the perpetrator and in press
conference-after-press conference, press release-after-press release, it insisted
ETA was to blame.
The opposition seized on this refusal in the face of the
mounting evidence. Soon people were demonstrating in the streets demanding to
know “¿Quien ha sido?” (“Who was it?”). And of course, the connection was made between
the government’s (highly unpopular) robust support for the Iraq War and the
attacks.
Whether it was the Iraq connection or the fact that the government’s
belligerent denial of what was seemingly becoming undeniable led people to feel
it was trying to hoodwink them, come election-day the Aznar government was
swept from power.
The political lines had been drawn right through the middle of
the atrocity. The Right accused the Left of using Iraq to blame the government for
the terrorist attacks in order to win the election. The Left accused the Right
of refusing to accept fundamentalist Islamic terrorism as the culprit because ETA
was more politically advantageous. Even worse would come later.
Just over two weeks after the attacks, seven of the terrorists (all Islamists) blew themselves up in a flat in the south of Madrid when cornered by the police and security forces. Three years later, Spain's Audencia Nacional (National High Court) determined the attacks to be the work of fundamentalist Islamists and convicted 21 people. It found no evidence of the involvement of ETA or of other conspiracies.
But Aznar and some other members of the PP have never stopped insisting on
ETA’s authorship of the attacks,that they had worked together with the
Islamists. Another far more sinister conspiracy theory that emerged is that the attacks
were in fact a Socialists coup aimed at winning the general election and that
police, security forces, intelligence agencies, judges, prosecutors, witnesses
and others were involved.
The attacks by the conservative media supporting these conspiracy theories were so voracious that they have been accused
of costing lives. One was the wife of a local councillor who was involved in the
collection of personal belongings from the train attacked in his district.
One of the backpacks collected actually contained an
unexploded bomb from the attack - the phone inside of which would lead police straight to the terrorists in that flat in Madrid's south. His credibility was attacked with such
viciousness that his wife committed suicide. Another was the owner of a bar who
refused to put up a flyer supporting the ETA connection. He was shot dead by
the person who had wanted to put up the flyer.
The politicisation of 11-M infected the different Victims of
Terrorism groups, some siding with some level of conspiracy theory and others
accepting the official findings. The sad result has been that over the last 10
years, on the anniversary of the attacks, separate memorials have been held by
the different victims' groups, with members of the different political parties
attending different memorials.
That is why those four ladies standing together at Monday’s memorial service was so significant. Perhaps it was a sign that, ten years on, the worst of politics is starting to retreat from the 11-M, giving some space for Madrid and Spain to grieve and heal in peace and dignity. I just find it a shame that it was those who have suffered the most who had to take the first steps.
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