Generation T comes of age

On November 20, 1975, the day that General Francisco Franco died, Javier Cercas was aged 13. The author of best-selling Spanish Civil War novel Soldiers of Salamina says that he remembers little about the day when the man who had ruled Spain with an iron fist for more than 35 years passed away, apart from the fact that he was playing tennis with his friend José Sobrino. He was unaware that the end of four decades of dictatorship was about to usher in a period of rapid social, political, and economic change: the Transition.

Last year, Cercas published Anatomía de un instante (or, Anatomy of a moment), a blow-by-blow account of the failed military coup of February 23, 1981, which for him marks the real turning point in contemporary Spanish history, encapsulated by the image of outgoing Prime Minister Adolfo Suárez, along with the king's advisor, General Manuel Gutiérrez Mellado, and Communist Party leader Santiago Carrillo, sat bolt upright in their seats while the rest of Congress hid on the floor after rebel Civil Guards stormed the building.

"The post-war period was a prolongation of the Civil War by other means"

"I refuse to accept that the Transition was in any way perfect"

"That was the moment when democracy really began, and when not only the Transition, but also the post-war period and the Civil War all ended, given that the post-war period was simply a prolongation of the Civil War by other means," says Cercas. "It was the last epic moment in Spanish history, and the gesture shown by Suárez, Gutiérrez Mellado and Carrillo was the final epic gesture."

Not that Cercas is unaware of the mythological appeal of the coup. "February 23 was the precise moment when all the demons of our recent past converged. As such, it is a huge collective work of fiction that has been kept going over the last 30 years by the coup leaders themselves, unscrupulous journalists in a hurry, and by the popular imagination."

Cercas is writing a novel about the Transition that kicks off in the summer of 1978, and says that he understands the fascination of many of his contemporaries, born in the early 1960s, and who grew up in decade that followed the death of Franco. "It is a convulsive time, a period of huge changes, and it is where our historical and personal roots lie, which makes it all the more interesting. And now, we are starting to get old, and we are beginning to look back and to understand that the present and the past talk to each other, the one influencing the other. In any event, our vision of the Transition will be different to that of our parents."

Journalist and writer Benjamín Prado, born in 1961, is also fascinated by the Transition. His latest novel, Operación Gladio, is an attempt to demystify a period that some have dubbed "the Transaction," with the political horse-trading and the deals done with the army and the Church seen as a sellout.

"There is much to admire about the Transition, but I refuse to accept that it was in any way perfect. The idea that all the issues related to a dictatorship that lasted 38 years were sorted out in just 12 months is, to say the least, disingenuous," he says. Operación Gladio deals with the 1977 killing of five labor lawyers in Madrid by three far-right gunmen. The episode, named after the street where it took place, Atocha, remains part of the collective consciousness.

Prado was just 16 when the Atocha killings took place, but admits to having little political awareness at that time. "But I was at least aware of something called politics. For some reason, I remember the Atocha killings as a symbol of the times, rather than something that simply happened at that time." As one of the characters in his novel says: "The Transition was a victory for all, but there were also losers."

Other writers have taken a tougher line. Rafael Reig, born in 1963, says that it is about time the myths of the Transition were laid to rest. "We have a right not to accept the official homily," he says. His latest book, Todo está perdonado (or, Everything is forgiven) looks at the impact of change on different generations within the same family. "Until now, it was our elder brothers and sisters who were the most visible faces of the Transition, and who had certainly benefited most from the period. But it is also a part of the life of my generation, even if our perspective is not as complete," he says.

Ignacio Martínez de Pisón's latest novel is set just before the Transition, in the final days of the dictatorship. El día de mañana (or, Tomorrow) is about an informer working for Franco's secret police. "Spain has forced itself to forget that there was a huge amount of political violence during the Transition: there were almost 600 victims in very few years. It is probably factors like these - violence, social unrest, institutional instability - that make it such an interesting period for writers," he says. Martínez de Pisón, who turned 50 last year, has already covered the failed coup of 1981, in El tiempo de las mujeres (or, The women's time). He describes the episode as "the democratic maturing of a generation, which for a few hours experienced the fear of returning to a military dictatorship."

Martínez de Pisón says that his generation is yet to make sense of the events that took place in the first years of democracy, events that happened very quickly. "For my generation, the death of Franco is the only important thing that has happened to us. We went from living under dictatorship to living under democracy."

Finally, Antonio Orejudo, whose latest novel, Un momento de descanso (or, A moment's rest) explores the Transition through the eyes of the so-called penenes, the generation of university teachers without tenure drafted in en masse at the end of the Franco era, who took advantage of the historical opportunity provided by the first Socialist Party government of Felipe González. "The mediocrity and corruption of the Franco regime was prolonged by these young teachers, who saw their chance when the Socialists came to power. There were some talented people among them, but there were also a lot of opportunists," he says.

Orejudo believes that the Transition will continue to yield literary fruit, inspiring a generation that came of age in the years after Franco's death. "My generation still has to write the definitive novel about the Transition; after all, we're the ones who suffered it most. There will be more novels," he concludes.