The Basque country -- language, culture, and politics: a view from the inside, Iowa City, Iowa, April 25, 2018

- [Karen Chappell] Iowa City Foreign Relation Council hosts community programs to address topics of international interest. We thank our members, volunteers and interns for making these forums possible since 1983, when we were founded, and that was the same year that Fraggle Rock debuted on HBO as its first children's show. Before we begin today's talk, I want to acknowledge our university and community supporters, The University of Iowa's International Programs, the University of Iowa's Honors Program, the University of Iowa's Center for Public Policy and the Stanley UI Foundation's Support Organization all for their financial support. I want to thank, also, today's special sponsors, Karen and Wally Chappell, and MidWest One Bank. I would also like to thank City Channel Four for professionally recording our programs for Cable Cast on City Channel Four, or 118-2. And also for the UI Library's digital archives. It is my pleasure to introduce Roz Frank. Doctor Roslyn Frank obtained her BA, MA and PhD from the University of Iowa. She has taught in the department of Spanish and Portuguese at the University of Iowa and is currently a Professor Emeritus. Her research specializes in Basque studies, cognitive linguistics, European ethnography, ethno-mathematics, ethno and archeo-astronomy, informational technologies and morality, ego criticism, Spanish civilization and culture, and Spanish women writers. Wow. Her knowledge of languages is extensive, being fluent in English, Spanish and Euskara, the Basque language. She also has reading ability in French, German, Italian, Catalan, Portuguese and Russian. Her research, facilitated by having learned Euskara, led to a truly remarkable discovery, namely that the Basques used to believe they descended from bears, an Indigenous belief system that appears to have been shared by other Europeans. Today, Roslyn Frank will be sharing her experiences in the Basque country, where for the past 40 years, she has carried out field work and related programs. So, please join me in welcoming Roz Frank. - [Roz Frank] There are three things most people know about the Basque country. That the Basque language, called Euskara, is an isolate, unrelated to any other in the world. It's origins are a mystery, although it's classed as pre-Indo-European. Basque is, the Basques are usually viewed as outsiders, culturally and linguistically speaking. There was also an armed moved for Basque independence called ETA. Euskadi Ta Askatasuna And that it's name is often translated as "Basque Homeland and Liberty". It was founded in 1959 during the Franco regime. It evolved from a group promoting traditional Basque values, culture and language to a paramilitary group. Over 40 years later, in 2011, there was a permanent ceasefire declared, which is still enforced. When I first went to the Basque Country over 40 years ago, those were pretty much the only things I knew then. But I also went there with a question in my mind. Why was it that during all the years that I worked on my Masters and then on to my, finished my PhD in Spanish and Portuguese, none of my professors had ever talked about the Basque language or the culture attached to it? For me, I sensed a vacuum, an unconscious or perhaps deliberate suppression of information about the Basque region, and at the same time I was intrigued. There was an air of mystery about the place. So I decided I wanted to find out for myself what might be hiding in that language that no one ever bothered to mention, as well as in the beliefs of the people that spoke it. I arrived in 1974, one year before Franco died. And for the following 10 years, I went over to Spain each summer, accompanying a group of students from the University of Iowa who were learning Spanish. During that decade, we took students to the town of Burgos, just south of the Basque region, and one of the most pro-Franco, anti-Basque parts of Spain at that time. This was also the location where the army training grounds were, and conscripts from the Basque country had to go there to do their military service. That experience, that experience was one that included the recruits from the Basque country in the company of other recruits, having to shout, "Muerte a los vascos!", death to the Basques, in practice sessions each time their military superiors ordered them to attack with guns raised. So what exactly is the Basque Country? In English we use the term Basque Country as if it were unproblematic. However, it has many different meanings, depending on one's perspective. From the point of view of a Basque speaker, we are talking about an entity called Euskal Herria. That expression translates roughly as, "Basque speaking people," and consist of the Zazpiak Bat, a unity of seven subunits. Even though Basque speakers view the seven units on this map as representing Euskal Herria, the map also sends a political message with respect to Basque identity. For example, in the recent past, attempts were made to ban the use of this map in weather reports on Basque television. So even a map like this one can be subject to controversy. Also, from the point of view of political organization, the visual unity portrayed on this map rapidly breaks down into separate administrative units. These are situated inside Spain and France. There are three basic divisions, the Basque Autonomous Community, consisting of Biscay, Gipuzkoa and Álava the Foral Community of Navarre, and Iparralde, the northern Basque Country, consisting of Lapurdi, Nafarroa Beherea, and Zuberoa on the French side of the political border. Now, to give you an idea of the size and relative population, the total geographical extent of Euskara Herria is 90 miles by 90 miles. Iowa has 56000 square miles. The Basque Country has 7000. You can put eight of them inside Iowa. Okay, total population, three million. Total population of Basque speakers, approximately 750000. The percentage of Basque speakers to non-Basque speakers is one in four. As noted, only 25 per cent of the overall population of Euskal Herria are Basque speakers, Euskaldunak. They are concentrated in small villages, located in the relatively mountainous parts of the North, where there is a much smaller percentage of Basque speak, while there is a much smaller percentage of Basque speakers in the plains to the South. This fact can be appreciated in the map to the right. In 2015, for the first time since the end of the Franco regime, a pro-Basque Nationalist Party took control of the government of Navarre, the red part. Before 2015, all previous governments had been run by political parties, whose identification was with Madrid, and most definitely were against the promotion of the Basque language and culture. In 2015, Uxue Barkos, a woman who speaks fluent Basque became President of Navarre, and the election results showed a significant increase in pro-Basque sentiment in the region. This shift in political and linguistic allegiances did not go unnoticed in Madrid, as we will see a bit later in this presentation, namely when we discuss the case of Altsasu, which is currently making headlines all across Spain, and resonating even in the European Union. We'll revisit this slide shortly. But before we do, we need to go back in time. The name Gernika is best known by those residing outside the Basque region as the scene of the April 26th, 1937 bombing of this town, the town of Gernika. One of the first aerial bombardments of the, by Nazi Germany's Luftwaffe, which acted in support of Generalisimo Francisco Franco. As is well-known, the bombing inspired the above commemorative painting by Pablo Picasso. The date chosen, according to some, quite deliberately, for the bombardment was a Monday, a market day. This insured that crowds of people, not only from Gernika itself but also from nearby villages, would be out and about in the streets. Indeed, the normal population of 7000 regulars swelled to 10000 on market days. For almost four hours, bombs rained down on Gernika in an experiment for blitzkrieg tactics. The bombing and aerial machine gun strafing of civilians that a few years later, in the course of World War Two, would be carried out over other European cities. In short, the village of Gernika was razed to the ground by German aircraft in a deliberate act meant to deliver a message to the Basque people, a message that they have never forgotten. Unfortunately, today the message sent by Franco when he chose this site for aerial bombardment is lost on those outside of the Basque Country. But it was far more than a simple disruption of lives and buildings. This is because Gernika had been and in many senses is still today the symbolic heart, the spiritual capital of the Basque country. For centuries it had been the location where under a sacred oak tree, open-air batzarrak assemblies were conducted and an early form of democracy practiced. Here is some scenes from the destruction of Gernika. And a view of the town afterwards. Franco and the Falangists, aided by military assets of Mussolini and Hitler, came to power in 1939, and at that point, for the rest of the world, the Spanish Civil War was over. However, the Franco regime ushered in decades of cultural, linguistic and political hardships for the Basque people, whose suffering and struggles against this oppression would continue for some 40 years. Only in 1978 would major reforms come into being. During much of that 40 year period, the Basque language was outlawed. Writing in Basque or speaking it at school or in public was severely punished. Parents were prohibited from giving their children first names in Basque. Even possessing a book written in Basque was extremely dangerous. Here we'll look at a very brief anecdote about a Kutxa, a trunk. I was told this anecdote by a woman who grew up under Franco in a Basque-speaking family, in what was a remote farmstead. Each year at Christmastime, her mother gathered the children around, took out a key and unlocked the Kutxa, like the one in the photograph, to show the children what was carefully hidden at the bottom, under all the household linens. She would take out from the very, very bottom a package wrapped with some cloth, open the package, and there was a children's book that had been published around 1930, which had very colorful pictures in it, it was a book for, to teach children who knew Basque how to read and write in Basque. She would let the children touch the book, look at the book, look at the pictures in the book, and then she would tell them, "See? "Here's proof the Basque language can be written." Then she would take the book, wrap it up and hide it again in the bottom of the trunk. In many Basque-speaking families, instead of capitulation and acceptance of Spanish identity, the result was increased defiance, albeit often silently expressed, yet passed on from one generation to the next. So even though the Basque language and expressions of Basque identity were outlawed, including of course any public display of the Ikurriña, the Basque flag. Rather than destroying the sense of identity that Basques had, the oppression only served to consolidate it. And Basque identity had continued to be reinforced by the writings of those leaders who, during the Civil War, had to to go into exile in the United States, Mexico, and Latin America. And it was fostered clandestinely, inside Euskal Herria. By the late 1960s, the Franco regime was lessening its grip and clandestine schools were springing up where children were taught to read and write in their language, hidden away in apartments and gathered around kitchen tables, away from the prying eyes of the Spanish Civil Guards. By 1978, the Basque language as well as Catalan and Galician became co-official languages. At the same time, at this point, the Basques began a long process of creating educational opportunities, text books and other vehicles for teaching Euskara in schools. At that point the Basque government also began providing funds for literacy classes geared to adults who spoke Basque fluently, who could read and write in Spanish but had never had the opportunity to learn to read and write in their own language. These efforts continue to this day. Indeed, it's a constant struggle which by Basque speakers to defend their language and promote its use in all settings. Most Americans are well aware of the running of the bulls, which takes place each July in the town of Pamplona, whose name in Basque is Iruñea. What the American public doesn't realize is that this event has been the occasion in which year after year Basques have attempted to insert their flag into the festivities, particularly by having it fly from the balcony of the Town Hall in the opening ceremony. It was not until February 30th, 2017 that the Law of Simbolos, the Law of Symbols, was revoked by Uxue Barkos in the parliament of Navarre. Only then was the ikurriña allowed to fly from the, from municipal town halls, even though Madrid is still contesting that decision. And here we have the day in which the flag was able to fly legally for the first time. And here's the reaction of the people when the flag came out, was put out on the balcony. Now, television cameras are focused on Pamplona when the Running of the Bulls take place. This is also an opportunity for the Basques to talk or show the rest of the world what's bothering them, right, or what they're proud of. You can see the Basque flag there. And here you'll see the words "Free Altsasu Aske." Altsasu is the name of a town. Aske means free, or freedom, in Basque. This is July, 2017. We're going to turn now to the case of the conflict in Navarre and the Altsasu Eight. As we noted early, in 2015 for the first time since the Civil War, pro-Basque coalition came to power in Navarre, reflecting an increased consciousness of Basque identity among the citizenry, particularly in the Northern part of Navarre. And the people were quite optimistic about the future. The incident that caused the conflict, now with national and international dimensions, took place in a local bar around five a.m. in the morning on the 15th of October, 2016. It was first reported in the local press simply as a bar fight, where three of the four victims ended up with nothing more than a few cuts and bruises, while the fourth suffered kicks and punches and came out with a fractured ankle. In November, 2016, things changed radically. Eight young people were arrested and put in a jail near, put in a jail near Madrid, where three of them, Oihan, Jokin and Adur remain today. This is a picture outside of one of the jails, a mock up. Atlsasu is a town of some 7000 inhabitants in a mountainous region in the north of Navarre. Traditionally, it's been a stronghold for the Basque language and culture as well as, this is the same that has been the case of many other Basque-speaking localities. The day the incident occurred, the young people had been out drinking, celebrating the town's annual festivities, a bit like homecoming in Iowa City. The incident took place inside and just outside of one of the local bars, the Bar Koxka. It involved young people, who by then had been drinking heavily all day, and by their own admission, were quite drunk. According to the testimony of the two Civil Guards and their partners who were the object of the alleged attack, the incident also involved a lot of name calling. Overall, the Civil Guards and their female companions felt outnumbered and intimidated by the actions and verbal attacks by the locals. But it still looked like a bar brawl, like dozens, like the dozens that occur every weekend in Spain. Bar fights in which young Civil Guards sometimes are found taking part. A month after the event in the bar in Altsasu, a Madrid court charged eight young people with a much more serious crime, with the recommended prison sentences totaling 375 years. What had happened was no longer classified as a simple bar fight fueled by alcohol, but rather as an act of terrorism and also as a hate crime. In this instance, the specific minority group upon which these alleged acts of hate were committed was redefined by the Court as an institution, composed of the members of the Civil Guard. For years, tensions have simmered in Altsasu between the members of the Civil Guard and local residents, especially the young people of the town who have been adamant about wanting the detachment of some 30 Civil Guards to leave. The conflict, at times convert and others overt, has manifested itself in demonstrations, public pronouncements, posting banners, distributing flyers and parading about with cardboard mock ups of the armored vehicles used by the Civil Guards to break up demonstrations, mock ups like the one shown in the photo to the right, which these young people are trying to protect. You'll see why shortly. The Civil Guard, in turn, regularly destroys the replicas, often violently dismantling them and carting them off, now smashed to pieces on the back of their trailer trucks, all the while, often delivering punishing blows to the humans in attendance at such events. Here you have the scene just before the Civil Guard attacked the mock up. Here is the mock up being carried off. In 2015, over 3000 roadblocks, run by the Civil Guard, were reported in the Basque Country. In Altsasu, the Civil Guard regularly sets up roadblocks, frisking and even insulting those who pass by. They also issue fines for traffic violations, viewed by many as totally bogus. Is Altsasu, people are also fined for carrying banners in demonstrations and taking part in plays aimed at denouncing or making fun of the Civil Guard as an institution. And there's probably some name calling there, too. Fines are levied, too, on people for attending demonstrations or even witnessing a demonstration from inside their own homes. Again, this is a practice that's been going on for years and it's intended to cause financial hardship on the local residents and it includes even fining the elected officials of the town. From 2013 to 2014, the total of politically motivated fines levied on the residents of Altsasu amounted to more than 30000 Euros, with individual fines often reaching 600 Euros, none of which has been a laughing matter for those involved. The situation has resulted in residents banding together to help each other out by sharing the financial costs. In some, in the past, the leveling of these fines has been viewed as a way on the part of the Civil Guard to selectively punish those individuals and families deemed troublemakers and to demonstrate who is really in charge. Unamuno, in the past, Jokin, one of the accused had been associated with demonstrations against the continued precedents of the detachment of Civil Guards in the town. It's not a surprise that prior to the incident, he'd been fined several times, actually four different times. In fact, according to the testimony given in court by Jokin himself, things started inside the Bar Koxka when Jokin entered and verbally confronted the off duty Civil Guards about the four fines he'd received and the fact that the Civil Guards were constantly fining the young people of the town and then showing up in the local bars. Exactly who was involved and what happened in the tavern and just outside it is still unclear. What is clear, however, is whatever transpired, occurred enveloped in a fog of alcohol. Consequently, there's no doubt that even the recollection of the two Civil Guards, recollections of the two Civil Guards who'd been filtered through the same distorting lens, a fact which might explain the many contradictions in their testimony. The incident is brought, was brought to the attention of the Audiencia Nacional Court in Madrid by a group called COVITE, which has a long history of anti-Basque sentiment. The argued that the trial should not take place in a provincial court in Navarre, but rather be moved to Madrid, and that the nature of the charges should be changed. The judge in charge of the proceedings was Carmen Lamela. She agreed and charged the eight young people with several crimes, classifying what happened not as a simple assault, but rather as an act of terrorism as well as a hate crime. In response, the Navarrese government appealed the decision to move the trial to Madrid, as well as the change in the nature of the charges, but the Spanish Supreme Court ruled in favor of Madrid. The Provincial Court of Navarre argued that the bar fight between the defendants and the members of the Civil Guard did not amount to terrorism, and insisted that the case should be handled locally. In addition, both the regional government of Navarre and City Council of Altsasu, they have rejected the terrorism charges against the eight young Basques, that they are facing, right? This Spanish National Court chose to override the appeals by the local authorities and charged the defendants with offenses related to terrorism anyway. This has turned the case into one of national prominence with massive media coverage accompanied by heated debate from all sides. In 2011, the Partido Popular, the PP, came to power with Mariano Rajoy at its head, and has continued in power to the present day. The roots of that political party reach far back, being formed out of a collection of right-wing and conservative parties, one of which was founded by the well-known minister of Francisco Franco. In short, Rajoy's Partido Popular includes a strong contingent of the same right-wing elements who personally, or whose parents personally backed the Franco dictatorship. This fact is not lost on Basque speakers. In his testimony of the trial, Oscar, the Civil Guard who suffered the fractured ankle bone, stated he could only identify three of the alleged assailants, actually one of whom was not anywhere near the bar. Nonetheless, a total of eight people have been charged. The decision to charge them with terrorism along with a lengthy and, for many, disproportionate prison sentence as recommended by the judge was publicly endorsed by the President of the Spanish government, Mariano Rajoy. The outcome of the trial will be decided by three judges, and it's the presiding judge who gets to decide what evidence to admit. In this instance, the presiding judge is Concepcion Espejel, who is married to a high-ranking official of the Civil Guard. In the past she has received awards of appreciation and merit from that institution. So far in the trial, requests have been denied which would have removed her, Espejel, for conflicts of interest. Also not admitted until quite recently has been a testimony by witnesses on behalf of the accused, as well as video recordings and photographs that throw into question the official version of events. All of this is now under national and international limelight. The trial began last Monday. The eight young people on trial are from 19 to 24 years of age. The judge has recommended the following prison sentences. 62 years for Oihan. For six of the other young people, including Jokin and Adur, 50 years each. And for Ainhara, the second young woman in the group, 12 years. Here we have a scene from the court on the 16th, when it started. Seated facing away from the camera are Oihan, Adur and Jokin, three of the accused. They've been in jail without bond since November 2016. Each of them is housed separately in a completely different prison. This is the response in Pamplona to the charges. This was on Saturday before the trial started. As you can see, the main square is absolutely jam packed. This is the COVITE demonstration, also in Pamplona, the group that argued they should be accused of terrorism. More scenes from the 17th, the day after the trial started in Altsasu. And another one. Parents of the accused also traveled to Brussels to make their children's plight heard in the European Union and they immediately received support from 51 members of the European Parliament from 15 countries, who called for proportionality, justice and equity for the defendants. Representatives of Amnesty International and other groups are attending the trial. The judge who originally brought the charges of terrorism against the Altsasu Eight is Carmen Lamela, who I mentioned before. She's the same person who sent the elected leaders of Catalonia to jail, where they are waiting trial and being held, also without bond. She also ordered the extradition of the President of Catalonia and four of his advisors, who are currently in exile in Germany, awaiting a decision from the German courts as to whether or not they'll be brought back for and be tried for treason in Spain. And these are some comments recently from a journalist. "By accusing these young people of participating "in terrorist activities, the Spanish government "is refueling a decades-old conflict that in recent years "had started to settle, quiet down. "The memories of the Civil Guard's historic crimes "against the Basque people, again along with their "collaboration with the Franco dictatorship that killed "and tortured Basque nationalists are still fresh "in the minds of many, including the residents of Altsasu." The sentencing will take place in two days, on April 27th, 2018. Now we're going to change and go to another question, the question I asked in the beginning about what was hiding in that language. As I mentioned earlier, when I started out some 40 years ago, I wanted to find out for myself what might be hiding in that language, Euskara, the language that no one ever bothered to mention, as well as in the beliefs of the people who spoke it. In what follows, you'll see that what I found was somewhat unexpected. And we'll find out the Basque language and culture is probably not as isolated as some people might think. My own relationship to this particular aspect of the research dates back to the early 1980s when I began to learn Euskara. That was when I first was told in Basque by a Basque-speaker, as if it were a secret, that the Basques used to believe they descended from bears. Since then, that particular statement has been corroborated by others. I was intrigued by the possible implications of this statement. After years of research, it is now clear that the belief, far from being limited to the Basque region, reflects an archaic pan-European worldview, that harkens back ultimately to a hunter-gatherer mentality. In brief, the research has focused on a pan-European phenomenon that includes the Bear's Son Tale, whose protagonist is half human and half bear. This is because his mother was a human female and his father was a bear. The story goes that one day a young woman went walking into the woods and ran into a bear. In some versions, the bear was, it was a very handsome bear and she goes off under her own volition. In other versions, he was a little bit more forceful and took her away with him. And she lives with the bear and then after awhile, they have a baby. And it's a little baby boy, a boy-bear. A boy-bear-human, I guess. And then the tales go on and tell more about what this young guy, bear-guy does. Alright. Therefore, this figure functions as an intermediary, that is the son, as a kind of Jesus-bear according to one informant, and is the central component in this much earlier worldview grounded in the belief in ursine ancestors. Moreover, not only are these tales found in Basque as well Indo-European languages, the bear's son has a name in Basque. And variants of that name are found in Indo-European languages, a linguistic signature that is a direct proxy for past context. Well this motif represents one of the most widely disseminated European folk tales. Until the belief that humans descended from bears was plugged into the interpretive frame of these tales and related performances, there were not viewed as particularly significant. Indeed, there is a performance counterpart to the story to the life, birth and exploits of this character, given that in the Pyreneesian region, the Bear Fest performances still incorporate elements taken from the plot of the Bear Son narrative, reenacting, for instance, the initial encounter between the mother and father and the subsequent birth of the young little bear in the bear cave. Here you see the Basque-speaking region of the first century and then you can see the Basque region kind of in purple, and then the Pyrenees. And we're going to go to the Pyrenees right now. These are the locations where the Bear Fests go on each year. The zone extends from the Basque-speaking region in the West to the Mediterranean in the East. These festivals continue to be performed each year, while their origins are currently under intense investigation. Moreover, all across Europe in what were once remote mountain villages, similar although somewhat less structurally complex performances have survived, where the performers dress up as bears. This is from February, 2018 and the young man who is playing the role of the bear is Mathieu Toras. We have, part of our group works with these people. We got that picture from one of them. The belief in ursine ancestors shows up in many forms and disguises, one of which is the aforementioned set of folk tales. At first I believed that the Bear Fests celebrated each year in the Pyrenees, for example in Arles sur Tech, were unique. Later on, especially after the arrival of YouTube and the availability of cell phone cameras, evidence for the fact that people dress up as bears in villages all across Europe became overwhelming. Nonetheless, it's only been in recent years that the actual connections between the performance art the folktales have been recognized. Indeed, the role played by European popular performance art in the transmission of this archaic worldview has been a key factor in its survival, along with the folktales that have been passed down orally from one generation to the next. And here we see some of the pictures. Almost all of these photographs come from around 2012. They're recent. And here are some from Southern Europe, from Greece, from Sardinia, from Bulgaria. And these are only a few. There are many more pictures. And here's some other recent examples of European bear-human performers. The ones that have the red scarves, those are from Romania and they dress up in what really look lie real bears costumes, like real bears. Of course, in Romania they still have bears, so. Alright, the, some of the pictures were taken from a book by Charles Freger, who is a French photographer and he's argued, without any knowledge of the research that we've been doing, that these contemporary performers reflect the figure of the Bear Son. You can see his photos on the internet, he has them all up there if you want to look at them because, I'll tell you, some of 'em are pretty wild. I mean, really wild. Okay. As a result of all this research, we've got two documentary films in the works, one of which is already done. It was filmed in 2018 and it's called Myth, Ritual and Folklore: Reawakening Our Relationship to Nature. Obviously, if you think you're descended from a bear, you're already inside nature to start out with, right? Then there's a longer documentary which was just finished in 2018, and it recounts the ursine, relates and recounts, the ursine genealogy. The film makers went all around Europe filming Bear Fest performances and interviewing experts on bear ceremonialism. I should put out that bear ceremonialism is found in Siberia, it's still alive, it's, you can find it in North America not too far from where we live. The Native Americans have beliefs that are similar. Bear ancestors, they're not unique. Now, in the case of this documentary, they also, well, they did things like record the festivals and at the same time the film makers emphasized the ursine genealogy that's embedded in them. The film was done by two Italian film makers, Andrea Arena and Nicola Imoli, and it's being currently taken around to film festivals in Europe. Then, if anybody's interested, you can find more information, more articles, more pictures and all the rest of it on my website at academia EDU. And that's it. - [Karen Chappell] Okay, the first question. Does Spain have a Constitution that protects freedom of speech and a court that protects this right? - [Roz Frank] It has a Constitution and if you were to talk, if you were to read the Spanish language press, the dominant press, you would see that they would probably say that they respect freedom of speech. There are people who might question that. Put it that way. I have one here which is where in the United States are the highest concentration of individuals from the Basque Country? I'd say probably one of the places is Nevada. A lot of Basque sheep herders went there in, like, the beginning of the twentieth century and did quite well and ended up taking over the casinos, right? So they all have casinos. Also around Bakersfield in California there are French Basques that are there. It's a good-sized population and also around Boise, Idaho. They have day schools for children to learn Basque in Boise, run by some, some friends of mine who graduated from the University of Iowa. So, yeah. - [Karen Chappell] How many non-Basque speakers support the Basque cause and what is Spain's case against the Basque independence? And what is behind the oppression of the Basque people? - [Roz Frank] Okay, let me take the first part. How many non-Basque speakers support the Basque cause? I'm not, I'm not sure what the Basque cause is here in the question. If it means that the Basque language should be spoken, that it should be taught in school, I would say that the majority of the people living in the Basque Country support that position. And then what is Spain's case against Basque independence? Again, I would, I would back up a little bit with that, with this question and say that in the Basque Country, the majority of the people do not favor independence. They've seen what happened in Catalonia. They're pretty aware of what happens when you try to break free from the Spanish state. There was an attempt some years ago to hold an informative referendum in the Basque Country, and that was squashed. I mean, the people that were involved in it were removed, let's put it that way, from their positions. So again, right now, I personally don't think that there's much of a support for Basque independence in the Basque Country, other than within some kind of wild-eyed young people who think, oh yes, you know, we can be independent. One of the arguments that has been made in favor of independence, I think you'll find it as an interesting one, it's been made by people in business and their complaint is that the Basques are very, very industrious people. The Basque Country is very industrialized country, high tech robotics and stuff like that. And the complaint that the Basque business community has, and I'm not saying the entire community, but there are elements in that community, their complaint is they can not deal directly with Brussels, so they, you know, they have to go through Madrid and go through all the bureaucracy in Madrid rather than be able to make arrangements directly in Brussels and so the Basque Country set up, with the business community, they set up this kind of ad hoc entity inside Brussels to help support the Basque business community. One other thing I'd just mention about the Basque community in terms of its culture, the largest cooperative in the world is located in the Basque Country. It is a huge cooperative, we're talking about billions of dollars per year. Cooperative is one of the features of the Basque culture. They are people that work very much together. And so you can imagine, these people, since they want to work together and they want to make money, I mean that is also something they're interested in, improving their fate in that respect. They would like to have more direct vehicles, right, to carry out business ventures. And so far that's, they haven't managed to do that, but they recognize that even if you were to get independence, what would that mean? Right? We've seen what has happened in Catalonia. It's not a good scene. Okay. Okay, what, what is the reason behind the oppression of the Basque people? You have to remember, you have 40 years of Franco, of the Franco regime. I gave the, I mentioned the anecdote of what happened when the young Basque recruits went to Burgos and they did their political service, that was told to me by a Basque recruit in Burgos who was was doing his service and he happened to end up living in the same place that I lived, and he told me the stories. And that was in the late 1970s, early 80s. So you can see what, that it continues to be fostered, alright? If you read the media, you'll see that the reason that they're trying to make this charge a charge of terrorism rather than just a bar fight is because they're trying to link the, let me back up, the, ETA, which was an armed movement, a very misguided armed movement, it ended completely in 2011. The same day that this trial started, the ETA leaders who had disbanded issued public statements about disarming, about the total and absolute disarming, that they were apologizing for everything that had happened. Now, an apology, obviously, isn't the best thing. But people died on both sides. And that, and so here it is the same day that you should be celebrating the fact that this armed group is completely and absolutely eliminated, you have a trial in Madrid trying to link these young people who can't even be identified as terrorists and somehow as being the prolongation of ETA. It's like they're trying to revive it. And this is not just me speaking, there are other peoples that have noticed. This has not gone unnoticed in Spain, that all of a sudden, you know, you've got this entity that you've been yelling about and screaming about for decades, they are gone. You might have to start talking about salaries and cutbacks and, you know, retirement funds and all kinds of things like that if you did not have this particular topic to keep talking about. So the trial is seen by many as sort of fulfilling this, and also making many people question what is really behind the trial. Okay? I don't know, I think that's it. Oh, two more. - [Karen Chappell] On the trivia sheet at your tables, one of the facts was only slightly more than 50 per cent of Basques believe in God. What is significant about this fact in relation to Basque culture, history and worldview or beliefs? - [Roz Frank] Interesting question, okay. I guess the question about whether, you know, 50 per cent of Basques don't, you know, don't believe in God, I'm not sure what the statistic is for Europe in general. I mean, if you went to Germany I think it would be pretty similar. I mean, I don't think that this is all that different. There's a very, it's a very, the Basque Country is very secular, people will go to church sometimes to get married, you know, token kind of attendance at church. How significant is that in relation to the Basque culture, history and worldview? Wow. I don't know how significant it is other than the fact that there is a very, very strong movement in the Basque Country, an environmental movement. They are very, very much in love with their mountains and their rivers and their streams and their animals. And they are constantly trying to protect them and in that respect, I suppose there is a kind of love of nature that is somewhat different than, somewhat different than the way in which nature is portrayed in some, at least in some organized religions. So that is, maybe, maybe a relationship between why not too many people believe in God and, but they do believe in nature and they believe in, they're, I should put it this way, that there is a spirituality about them, but it is much more spirituality that kind of looks at reality and looks at nature and is amazed by it, and realize that there is something there, there's something more. But not necessarily exactly what one finds in an organized, Christian religion. Okay. - [Karen Chappell] And this will be the last question. If you want to read it out. - [Roz Frank] Okay, what is being done to resuscitate the Basque language and its use? Alright. What you have is a constant, you have schools where people can, where the students can study in Basque. They can opt for everything in Basque or partly in Basque or pretty much everything in Spanish if they want to. The, the way in which it's promoted I think is very much at the level of those people that already speak it, who try very, very hard to convince other people that they should speak it, that it's important to speak the language. You have newspapers that are in Basque. Not very many, but they are there. You have a lot going on on the internet, where people create blogs, they write different things in Basque. There's a tremendous musical movement, I mean, they're, they're everywhere you look, there are people that are singing in Basque. They also have contests which are called Bertsolari contests, I'll just mention briefly what these are, because this is also a way in which they are promoting the language. The Bertsolaris are people who sing, right? But they sing poetry. And this is a traditional kind of Basque competition and it involves things like, they have like around 140 different melodies and you can choose your melody. The melody will give you the right, you know, kind of the scheme of what you're going to be singing. And they hold these contests, they have, like, run offs, you start at the very, very lowest level in the local communities and then they have run offs and playoffs, et cetera, et cetera. And then you go to the Nationals, right? And at the Nationals you will have around 20 to 25000 people in the audience. And you have your singers up on the stage. These tend to be young people, but occasionally somebody's over 40. And then you have someone who gives them a theme, a topic. There are two of them, right? I mean two people. And the topic might be that you're the employer of X company and the other one is the employee and he's just been told that they're going to cut, you know, cut everybody out of the, close the factory and take it to China. That could be a topic. And the person, the person who is giving the topics gives the topic, then the person will give the rhyme scheme, and the scheme is like saying, okay, do it in a sonnet. I mean, it would be more or less like that, right? The person, the first person has to start singing. And the person can't repeat anything, you can't even repeat, you know, you can't have all the same rhyme, right? You lose points if you do that. So the first person starts singing. He stops, and it could be a she, because women have won these contests, too. And then the other person has to start right then, right, with the same melody, right, and respond. Alright, this is the debate, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, right? In the National Finals, they have time limits. They didn't used to, years and years ago. They would do these in town squares, and I know of one that took place over six hours. The latest thing that's happened in that area is young parents, right, send their kids to Bertsolari schools, like the outside extracurricular activities, go to a Bertsolari class. And they have just started the junior league for Bertsolari contests, so they are now, they have the little kids, you know, yay big, who are competing in grade school. And in order to compete in this, you can imagine how good your Basque has to be. I mean you must be really good to be able to do this. And it's very prestigious and the young people really, you know, they like the singers. Plus many of the singers are also singers who make records, right, so you've got this kind of mixture of popular singer, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Popular culture in your own language and on and on and on. There's one question which I did not get, I thought I was going to get, but I'm going to answer it anyway. I think we've got a minute or two. One of the questions I thought I would receive was something about what the, what the word Euskadunak means, right? I used that over and over, right, in the talk. Well, let me back up. You all know the word Basque, right? But in the Basque language itself, the word Basque doesn't exist. Does not exist, right? So if you say, as many people would say, oh, I'm Basque, I grew up in the Basque Country, my parents are Basque, I have Basque, you know, Basque last names, on and on, back and back, right. Well that's just fine and good, you're Basque. But you're not Euskadunak. And this was only discovered by the people that were not Euskadunak in the 1990s. They just didn't know it. It was, like, this secret that was kept. When I learned the language, what, when I discovered what this was all about, I was going to classes, I was staying in a little hostel in a tiny little village, and in order to improve my Basque, I would sit in the kitchen in the evenings because the woman who ran the place was also the cook. She owned it and she was the cook. And they spoke Basque in the kitchen, so I'd be in the kitchen. And one evening, someone said, hey, your son's coming. She was speaking of the owner. And so she grabs me by the arm, takes me over to the stairway, grabs me, you know, and she says this is my son, right? She addresses her son, and she says to her son, in Basque, Roz is Euskadunak. And I kind of went, I kind of sputtered, right? I said no, no, I'm from the United States. I'm from Iowa, right? And she looks at me and she says, Euskara zara, zuzen? right, you are Euskadunak, right? Well this made me, I said what's going on, right? I then figure out later what this was all about. And this came from a lawyer that took me to lunch one day. When we were speaking in Basque, I was by that time fairly fluent in the language, and he says, you know, one thing non-Basque speakers don't get is that they think that if they have Basque names, if they grew up in the Basque Country, they have Basque blood, right, and they speak to me in Spanish, that I somehow identify with them. He said they could be speaking to me in Hungarian, it wouldn't make any difference. They're equally distant. They're not Euskadunak, right? Alright, in other words, if you learn Basque, you become Euskadunak. You acquire an entirely new identity. And this is not a joke, it's real, alright? This, I was telling Magritte, I don't know if she's back there somewhere, yep, hi, that I've taken students there, people from the, young people from the States who have gone to the Basque Country and they just go, ha, so I learn I Basque. And then they learn Basque and they suddenly realize that they are part of this community. It doesn't matter, you know, you can look Japanese, you can look Native American, you can look whatever, you know, African, you know, North African. As long as you speak Basque, you are are Euskaldunak and you are on the inside. In other words, it is an inclusive notion of identity. And I think that many times isn't projected. In fact, as I said, people did not know this. I mean Basque speakers, people who spoke Spanish, right? They didn't know this until the 1990s. I was with a friend, couple friends not, well it was in the late nineties, or mid-nineties, I should say and this was a young woman who had grown up speaking Spanish, her father was a fluent Basque speaker, her mother was a Spanish speaker and we had gone out to have pizza. And I was sitting with a couple of other people who were Basque. And we were speaking in Spanish and somehow, this topic came up. And I said yeah, I said I'm like, I was really impressed because I suddenly realized I'm Euskadunak. And the young woman started crying. And I said what's wrong? She said, "My father never told me." She had spent all those years with him and had not realized he could not say she was Euskadunak and he saw her as kind of the other. Not in a bad way, but as the other. Now, this has also caused problems in the Basque Country because Basque, right, los Vascos those that consider themselves Vascos right, have a hard time with the fact that they are not Euskadunak, and so they have been trying to redefine the word Euskadunak. Not very successfully, though. Okay, so I think that's it. Thank you. - [Karen Chappell] So thank you, Roz. This was a very interesting program. I also want to thank, right now, once more, our sponsors, the University of Iowa's International Programs, the University of Iowa's Honors Program, the University of Iowa Public Policy Center and the Stanley UI Foundation Support Organization. As well as today's special sponsors, Karen and Wallace Chappell and MidWest One Bank. Also thanks, the City Channel Four for making our programs available to viewing audiences. So now for some fun. Roz, as a special token of our appreciation, we present you with a very coveted Iowa City Foreign Relations Council mug. - [Roz Frank] Okay, thank you.