A fairer justice... not by chance

A family’s quest for justice has taken a new turn with the discovery of a handwritten letter left behind by Fidel Gutiérrez Salceda, a Republican doctor executed during the Spanish Civil War. The letter, found among the remnants of his family home, expresses his hope that one day his remains might be moved closer to his wife’s resting place, should a more just form of justice ever come to pass. The letter was written shortly before his execution in 1937, and its contents have stirred renewed interest in the long-standing issue of post-Franco-era accountability and reconciliation. Fidel Gutiérrez Salceda, born in 1887, served as the mayor of Pesaguero, Cantabria, under the Left Republican Party, from March to November 1936. As a medical officer in the 125th Battalion, he was stationed near the port of Piedrasluengas and later deployed to the Campoo region. He was arrested and put on trial in a summary court-martial, accused of providing medical care to wounded Republican soldiers before joining the Republican army. His sentence was death by firing squad, and he was executed in Reinosa, a town in Cantabria. His body was buried in a mass grave, and his remains remain there to this day. The letter, discovered by his grandchildren while dismantling their ancestral home, reflects the personal anguish of a man who believed in the ideals of the Republic yet faced persecution under Franco’s regime. In the letter, he writes: “I hope that someday, if by some chance, a more just justice comes to pass, my remains will be moved close to your residence.” The message underscores the deep emotional and political stakes of his life and death, and it resonates with the broader struggle for historical truth and recognition of victims of the civil war and subsequent dictatorship. His son, the narrator of the account, recalls how his father, a devout supporter of Franco despite his own father’s execution, always held a profound respect for his grandfather. This reverence, even amid ideological differences, highlights the complex legacy of the conflict and the enduring impact of personal loss. The father, who survived the war as a temporary corporal, never spoke openly about his grandfather’s fate, though he clearly understood the injustice of it. The discovery of the letter has reignited discussions around the ongoing efforts to exhume and identify the remains of those executed during the Francoist era. Many such individuals were buried in mass graves, often without proper records or identification. Activists and families continue to push for the exhumation of these sites, arguing that it is both a legal and moral imperative to acknowledge past wrongs and provide closure to surviving relatives. In recent years, Spain has made progress in addressing the legacies of the civil war and dictatorship, including the partial exhumation of mass graves and the publication of official documents. However, the process remains contentious, particularly among conservative factions who argue that reopening old wounds could destabilize society. The case of Fidel Gutiérrez Salceda serves as a poignant example of why many believe the work must continue. His story, preserved in a simple handwritten note, stands as a powerful reminder of the human cost of political conflict and the enduring need for justice.