Some folks out there just love to tear down anything that's an ounce to the right of Karl Marx. Take the Valley of the Fallen for instance—an architectural behemoth situated in Spain's majestic Sierra de Guadarrama mountains. Built between 1940 and 1958 under the reign of Francisco Franco, this monument was meant to pay tribute to those who lost their lives in the Spanish Civil War. It’s the most iconic and controversial monument in Spain; if stone could speak, the Valley of the Fallen would read a history book out loud. Yet somehow, amid the post-modernist disdain for anything that smacks of traditionalism, the integrity of this grand tomb has come into question.
Let's face it: The Valley of the Fallen isn't a simple monument. It's a 500-foot-tall cross, a basilica carved into the mountain, and a symbol of reconciliation. Franco pledged it as a resting place for both Nationalists and Republicans who perished during the war. It was meant to be a unifier of a divided Spain. But hold your horses! Some folks, who like to light historical context on fire, argue it glorifies Franco’s rule. They can’t wrap their heads around the idea that history, in all its complexity, isn't tied up neatly in their preferred narratives.
The place has been a lightning rod for controversy. In 2007, Spain’s ‘Historical Memory Law’ dictated exhumations should occur, and that anyone associated with Franco’s dictatorial facade be removed. In 2019, Franco was exhumed from the monument. That's right, let's rewrite history for the fickle whims of political correctness! While some might clap their hands gleefully at this, those with more pragmatic heads on their shoulders see the destruction—no, demolition—of historical context.
Now, let’s talk architecture. Think of the Valley of the Fallen as Europe’s Mount Rushmore. It's an incredible feat of design and engineering. But instead of being appreciated for its ambition, the monument often becomes a target for those offended by its origins. How convenient to criticize a colossal structure steeped in meaning while ignoring the craftsmanship and artistry that went into its creation. Ironically, they aim to flatten this idea of magnificence into the ordinary, where mediocre is king.
Ah, liberals also say the monument is a product of forced labor—around 20,000 political prisoners helped build it, according to them. Definitely not a practice anyone should be proud of, yet the claim overshadows the fact that the monument intended to be a place of national healing. What goes unsaid is how Franco gave these prisoners reduced sentences as an incentive, which for them might have felt like a light at the end of a very dark tunnel.
Did I mention it’s a tourist hotspot? Whether for its political significance or for general architectural awe, millions of visitors pour in to get a glimpse. There’s a reason people flock. Maybe they see something in the Valley of the Fallen that goes beyond the blustering headlines and politicized agendas. Not everything can be painted in black and white! People appreciate culture, art, and history in their totality—not just the convenient bits that make it through the ideological fine sieve.
Speaking of rebranding and revamping history, some have suggested converting it into a theme-focused educational center on the atrocities of Franco's regime. Why stop there, folks? Maybe we should turn Stonehenge into a giant sundial while we're at it. When will the world stop trying to turn everything into a cautionary tale and start appreciating them for what they originally meant to be? It’s a curious fact that the fight to change the Valley of the Fallen keeps the spotlight away from other pressing issues that actually matter.
Here’s a bit that’ll grind some gears: fewer Spaniards even know or care about the monument than one would think. In a 2011 survey, only around 30% thought the monument should remain unchanged, with the rest favoring alternatives from alteration to fully eradicating it. However, that makes me wonder if these favoring destructions have even visited the site?
When all is said and done, the Valley of the Fallen is more than stone. It's a history book written in rock. Destroying or altering it would erase parts of a lesson not only for Spain but for the world. The past should be an educator, not a penal colony where only those with the 'correct' views can tell their sanitized stories. How about maintaining the Valley as a noble embodiment of 'those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it'?