PalmNear my house lives a group of very young people who share a rented apartment. It's not necessary finezza A sociological observation to see what their true colors are: Spanish flags on the balcony as big as the one in Madrid's Plaza de Colón, and, occasionally, a pre-constitutional one; Francoist symbols visible from the street; and two dogs barking with a strange aggression, as if they had memorized the rage their owners exuded. The other night, while walking my dog, I ran into them on the street below their building, surrounded by a police patrol. An officer was asking them what they planned to do with a dog that, as I understood it, had jumped from the first floor. The police asked the animal's name, and one of the young men answered with a naturalness that seemed inherited: "Franco."
Also, the other day, a friend who teaches English at a high school told me that to practice conversation he asks his students to talk about heroes. "Who are your heroes?" he asks. A boy answers "Charlie Kirk," referring to theinfluencer American far-right activist assassinated in September. Another says "Donald Trump," without any ironic intent, just as naturally as other generations would have said Rosa Parks, Messi, or Björk. Meanwhile, the high school classmates of a friend's son say that, to be funny, they play the music of Facing the sun
All of this isn't just anecdotes; it's a symptom. And a serious one. A significant portion of young people—born decades after the Franco dictatorship, raised in a democracy that has yet to fully cleanse itself—are embracing an ultraright-wing and even openly Francoist ideology they never experienced and, therefore, may idealize. Ignorance has always been tempting, but today it has the infinite megaphone of social media. Historical misinformation goes hand in hand with uncontrolled information overload, cooked up by algorithms that reward provocation and amplified by digital magnates—friends of Trump—who play with hatred like someone playing with gasoline.
To all this are added demagogic speeches aimed at those who haven't yet formed their own opinions, those searching for identity and role models. The far right knows this and acts with precision, using simple, forceful, emotional messages that promise order, certainty, and clear enemies. These messages are delivered by media preachers who have more influence than any teacher, parent, or, in terms of information, journalist.
What can we do? But it's complex; to begin with, we must stop minimizing it. We cannot trivialize it; it's not "just something young people do," nor is it a passing trend. It's a drift that already has consequences and will have many more if we don't combat it decisively. We must give young people the tools to distinguish between rebellion and fanaticism, between criticism and manipulation. But above all, we must take these signs seriously. Because when fascism returns, it's suicidal to look the other way.
