Juan Carlos: Steering Spain from Dictatorship to Democracy. Paul Preston
Читать онлайн книгу.
made it quite clear that his concern was simply the continuity of the regime after his death. That being the case, the Lausanne Manifesto and subsequent evidence of Don Juan’s democratic proclivities had eliminated him as a possible successor.32
Utterly mortified by this letter, Don Juan cut off all communication with Franco for the next three years. During this time, the Caudillo decided on a strategy of encouraging the emergence of rivals to Juan Carlos and his father. This was to intensify the pressure on Don Juan, generally muddy the waters and diminish Falangist fears of an eventual Borbón restoration. In October 1952, through his Ambassador in Paris, the Conde de Casa Rojas, Franco approached Don Jaime, who, three years earlier, had reneged on his 1933 decision to renounce his rights to the throne. Franco had no difficulty in persuading the still impecunious Don Jaime that his son and heir, Alfonso de Borbón y Dampierre, should be educated in Spain, under the regime’s supervision. Don Jaime was enticed by the prospect of permanent freedom from debt through regular financial support from the regime as well as by the possibility of re-establishing his own, or at least his son’s, claim to the throne. Initially, Alfonso had no inclination to do what his father wished. His mother, Emmanuela Dampierre, had been estranged from his father long before they formally separated in 1946. Alfonso and his brother Gonzalo had been brought up by their mother, which effectively meant a life in boarding schools. Alfonso in particular resented his father. Nevertheless, he was even more deeply resentful at his penniless position, and in 1954 the now 18-year-old Don Alfonso finally accepted the plan and enrolled for a law degree at the Jesuit University of Deusto, in Bilbao.33
Meanwhile, Juan Carlos continued his education at Miramar. He was often homesick and looked forward to his holidays at Estoril. He admitted later to biting his nails as a result of his anxieties. Nevertheless, his four years at Miramar seem to have been reasonably contented ones. Originally, it was assumed that he would share a room with his brother but, because of the natural sibling rivalries between a 12-year-old and his younger brother, they ended up being separated, and Jaime Carvajal moved in with Juan Carlos. The routine at Miramar was harsh. The children had little time to themselves. They were woken each day at 7.30 a.m. with the ringing of a bell and required to go straight into the garden in order to hoist the flag. This was followed by mass and a sermon from Miramar’s chaplain. Only then would the boys have breakfast and begin their morning classes. At the end of the morning, there was a short break before lunch. Lessons resumed at 4 p.m., until another brief break in the evening, followed by supper and study time. Discipline was strict. On one occasion, when he had been given lines for some infraction, he said to the maths teacher, Carlos Santamaría, ‘When I’m King, I’m going to get so-and-so’ (a reference to the teacher who had punished him). ‘Not you. I’ll make you Chancellor of the Exchequer.’ The Prince had no doubts that one day he would succeed his father on the throne.
Aurora Gómez Delgado remembered Juan Carlos as an affable extrovert, who had his ups and downs like any ordinary boy, but who adapted easily to Miramar and was definitely not a ‘difficult child’. When Juan Carlos was free from other obligations, he indulged his passion for photography or played chess. He enjoyed playing football and got into quarrels like other boys, but he was also very conscious of his status: ‘He knew perfectly well that he was there in order to learn his profession.’ In fact, Juan Carlos was, according to his French teacher, capable of showing an unusual degree of self-restraint when necessary, never allowing himself to cry in public. Juan Carlos also manifested a keen desire to talk to people of all walks of life, a taste that he was able to indulge during the weekend outings. None of the children at Miramar had much pocket money, and Juan Carlos was no exception. On occasions, the young Prince would write letters taking advantage of both the horizontal and the vertical space, so as to save paper.34
In a 1995 interview, Juan Carlos’s mother suggested that Juan Carlos and his brother Alfonsito had always got on well. However, it is noteworthy that neither Juan Carlos himself nor those, like his French teacher, who recorded their memories of Miramar, had anything to say about the relationship during their time together there.35 Aurora Gómez Delgado was however very aware of the deep attachment that Juan Carlos felt towards his mother. She telephoned him often from Estoril. When he was told that she was on the line, he would run down the corridor shouting, ‘Mummy, Mummy!’ Of Juan Carlos’s relationship with his father at this time, the French teacher hinted at its stiff formality when she said only that, ‘In addition to giving him fatherly advice, he behaved towards him as a friend.’ There seems to have been a regular correspondence with his parents throughout his stay. The tone was loving if rather formal. Curiously those from Don Juan were somewhat more affectionate, ending, typically, ‘Until the next, my beloved sons, with a big hug from your loving father,’ or, ‘With greetings to your teachers and classmates, and a hug for Alfonsito, and another for you with the love and affection of your father Juan.’ Those from his mother were slightly more stilted – ‘Goodbye, beloved children, hoping to see you soon, if God wills. A big hug from your Mummy who blesses you both. María.’36 All things considered, Juan Carlos’s four years at Miramar were relatively happy ones marred only by separation from his family and by attacks on his father in the press.
Franco had always given vent to his antipathy towards Don Juan through his total control of the Spanish press. Arriba and other Movimiento newspapers were free to make regular insinuations that the monarchists were disloyal to the regime. In January 1954, the hostility reached new heights. In December 1953, Don Juan’s close friend and second cousin, Lord Mountbatten, at the time Admiral of the NATO Mediterranean fleet, had invited him to observe from the flagship major manoeuvres planned for January 1954. As an honorary Royal Navy officer, Don Juan was keen to accept. On the other hand, with tension growing between Britain and Spain over Gibraltar, he feared that the Movimiento press would distort the reasons for his presence and link anti-monarchist with anti-British propaganda. In the event, on the advice of Gil Robles, who reminded him that this was a NATO operation, he decided to attend. As had been expected, a hostile press campaign was unleashed in which the NATO dimension was totally ignored. The manoeuvres were presented as a threatening gesture by British naval forces and it was implied that Don Juan was selling out to London over Gibraltar. ‘Don Juan de Borbón in the Royal Navy. The French press reveals that Don Juan de Borbón has arrived in Malta where he has boarded the twelve-thousand-ton cruiser HMS Glasgow, from which he will follow the English manoeuvres in the Mediterranean. Don Juan de Borbón has been an honorary lieutenant in the Royal Navy since 1936.’ This ‘news item’ was accompanied by an editorial which described the manoeuvres as an outrageous provocation intended to remind the people of Spain that: ‘Gibraltar is the thorn that has kept blood flowing since the iniquitous theft of 1704.’ The pupils at Miramar followed the entire affair in the press. Juan Carlos was inevitably distressed and, for a time, it appeared as if the school might have to be closed down.37
By the summer of 1954, Juan Carlos had completed his secondary education. Shortly afterwards, Don Juan received two assessments of the boy’s character. The first was sent by Jesús Pabón y Suárez de Urbina, the distinguished monarchist historian who had chaired the board (tribunal) before which the Prince faced his oral examinations. The second came from the Conde de Fontanar, a close friend of Don Juan and a man free of personal political ambition. As father of Jaime Carvajal, the Prince’s room-mate at Miramar, and having frequently welcomed the Prince as a guest in his home, he knew Juan Carlos well. The contrasts between these reports were illuminating. Pabón wrote: ‘The impression that Juan Carlos produces and leaves behind him is of being, fundamentally, kind.’ Fontanar went into more detail, describing the Prince as: ‘generous, affectionate, biddable, kindly, unassuming, incapable of bearing a grudge, likeable, courageous, good-looking and with an aptitude for physical exercises’. Fontanar also underlined the fact that the Prince ‘treats ordinary folk with simple affability’. Pabón noted Juan Carlos’s ‘genuine lack of pretence’.
Having seen Juan Carlos only in this formal setting, as a teacher examining him,