There was a time when living in a Civil Guard barracks already entailed a certain restlessness, unease or outright terror. Not so long ago. From my perspective, the simple memory of the transformation of a barracks, with its surrounding landscaping, into a walled pavilion now takes on the meaning of what it meant to live in a barracks for many years.
I speak from my perspective because it is curious to me how I see it now and how I understood it at the time. The Civil Guard barracks in my town was a place that I frequented because of my friendship with a son of the Civil Guard. We would go out to the arcade between the houses and there we would play with the views of the street beyond the planters. And suddenly, the darkness, a wall closed all view to the street ... As a child you do not give importance to the things that the grown-ups do. They had just closed it.
Living in that tension extended with special ferocity over a body like this must have been extremely hard. The battle, as much of a magazine as you like, was somewhat uneven. Those who have weapons and use them, and kill, do not submit to any moral or legal dictates. And before that the fight is always unequal. The Civil Guard fought against all that, rose from a thousand and one attacks and ended up being the cornerstone to be able to silence ETA terrorism.
In this book we are told how that battle was carried out by the body and how it was endured by the families. More than 200 dead and many more wounded are the ignominious baggage towards peace, a price without possible compensation, but with the pride of having defended life above all ideology that ends up taking up arms trying to impose its criteria.
Testimonies about what happened for so many years, pain and social tension as the only social conquest of the enemies of the people, of all the people, of any people. Because those who armed themselves to seek their justice ended up losing all justification from the moment they took up the first weapon.
You can buy now Blood, sweat and peace, the new book of Lorenzo Silva, in collaboration with Gonzalo Araluce and Manuel Sánchez, here: