Miguel de Unamuno was one of the great Spanish intellects in the first decades of the 20th century. He was a poet, playwright, and novelist, and was an early existentialist. His long philosophical essay, A Tragic Sense of Life (Del sentimiento tragico de la vida) is a classic. In addition to his writing he served as rector of the University of Salamanca for many years, the third oldest university in the world. He was a man of great moral courage as well. In 1936 in the early months of the Spanish Civil War, Franco’s Nationalist forces occupied Salamanca, and in October, they held a rally at the University of Salamanca. The leader of the rally was General Millán-Astray, leader of the notorious Spanish Foreign Legion, whose motto was “Long live death,” which the gathered Falangists shouted during the rally.
Unamuno, then in his 70s, rose to speak and to confront Millán-Astray.
Here is a translation of his words: “You are waiting for my words. You know me well, and know I cannot remain silent for long. Sometimes, to remain silent is to lie, since silence can be interpreted as assent…. But now I have heard this insensible and necrophilous oath, “Long live death!” and I, having spent my life writing paradoxes that have provoked the ire of those who do not understand what I have written, and being an expert in this matter, find this ridiculous paradox repellent. General Millán-Astray is an invalid (he had lost an eye and arm in battles). There is no need for us to say this with whispered tones. He is an invalid of war. So was Cervantes. But unfortunately, Spain today has too many invalids. And, if God does not help us, soon it will have very many more. It torments me to think that General Millán-Astray might dictate the norms of the psychology of the masses. It should be expected from a cripple who lacks the spiritual greatness of Cervantes to find horrible solace in seeing how the number of mutilated ones multiplies around him.
“This is the temple of intelligence, and I am its high priest. You are profaning its sacred domain. You will win, because you have enough brute force. But you will not convince. In order to convince it is necessary to persuade, and to persuade you will need something that you lack: reason and right in the struggle. I see it is useless to ask you to think of Spain. I have spoken.”
Unamuno was placed under house after his speech and died less than three months later.
Unamuno’s words carry import for us today: “I cannot remain silent for long. Sometimes to remain silent is to lie, since silence can be interpreted as assent.” Even more important are these famous words “You will win, but you will not convince (Venceréis pero no convenceréis),” offer inspiration to anyone standing up to mindless power. My more hopeful version is “You might win for now, but you will never convince!”
Here is a video in Spanish of an actor portraying Unamuno as he spoke against Millán-Astray and the fascists at the rally. In the video, when the actor places his hand over his eye, he is representing Millán-Astray and his injuries.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vE9-YXglVhQ
Even if you don’t understand Spanish, I encourage you to watch it. The actor’s Castillian is beautiful, and he captures the elegant courage of Unamuno.
One more thing. Compared with Unamuno, the presidents of modern American universities are ignoble bureaucrats who reflect the cynical money-hustling commercialism of our grifter society. I recall that an incoming president of the University of Oregon a few years ago who said that his most important duty was raising money. Instead of noble words like “You will win, but you won’t convince,” we get, “Hey, if you give us $10 million of guilt money, we will name a building after you.”
We need more Unamunos in these troubled times.