The trauma of the Civil War did not end with its victims

The emotional scars of Spain’s Civil War have not faded with time, continuing to haunt families generations after the violence ended. In a quiet moment somewhere in Spain, a woman clutches a small box containing bones, those of her grandfather. She never met him. He was killed during the war or under Francoist repression decades before she was born. Yet she weeps, as though saying goodbye to someone whose absence has always been part of her life. This scene has played out countless times over the past two decades, as images of exhumations have become a common sight in Spain's democratic landscape. Archaeologists open mass graves, anthropologists identify skeletons, and families finally recover the remains of loved ones. These moments are often framed through history, politics, or human rights, emphasizing truth, justice, repair, or democratic memory. All of this is valid. But perhaps we have overlooked a simpler, and more profound, question. Why can one person suffer from a loss that occurred nearly 90 years before their birth? How is it possible that a war continues to leave an emotional mark on those who never lived through it? What happens psychologically when a family remains without knowing the fate of a parent, grandparent, or sibling, unable to hold a funeral, say goodbye, or place a name on a tomb? These questions have rarely been addressed from an empirical perspective within Spanish historical scholarship. While we have meticulously reconstructed the violence of the Civil War, understanding its mechanisms, logic, and dimensions, we know far less about the psychological consequences of that violence on families and how these effects might have been passed down through generations. In recent years, efforts have been made to answer these questions by combining two disciplines that have rarely engaged systematically in the Spanish context: History and Psychology. The results go beyond merely reinterpreting the past. They propose a new way of studying wars, recognizing that conflicts do not necessarily end when combat ceases. Sometimes, they continue living in the emotions, silences, and familial relationships of those born long after the last shots were fired. Our findings suggest that the emotional legacy of such violence can be measured scientifically, reshaping how we understand the past and the role democracy plays in addressing its deepest consequences. This research echoes similar studies in other contexts marked by political violence. Investigations into survivors of the Holocaust, dictatorships in Latin America, the Balkans, or Rwanda have shown that traumatic events can cast long shadows. These effects are not solely due to the psychological impact on those who lived through them, but because such experiences alter family dynamics, affective relationships, modes of education, silence, and narratives passed between generations. Loss becomes more than a historical fact, it transforms daily life, shaping how people live long after the events themselves have passed.