Some good man: Gerard Maria Thomàs
Forty years have passed since the death of this judge of Falangist origin, who had exemplary conduct and was instrumental in restoring university studies in the Balearic Islands.
PalmHe was a Falangist and an officer on the rebel side in the Civil War. But he was also a judge of exemplary conduct, described as "a true gentleman" by one of those arrested in a raid against the clandestine opposition, and who ordered what was probably the first exhumation of a victim of the 1936 Civil War in the entire country. A man of broad cultural interests, founder and first parish priest of the Estudi General Lul·lià, he resumed his university studies in the Balearic Islands. We remember Gerard Maria Thomàs on the fortieth anniversary of his death, on December 11, 1985.
Gerard Maria Thomàs Sabater was born in 1905 in Palma, the son of a Menorcan—Antoni Thomàs, a train driver for the Transmediterránea shipping company—and a woman from Manacor. He was the younger brother of the musician and priest Joan Maria Thomàs. This is a well-known family in the spheres of politics, culture, and the judiciary, where the magistrate's children have distinguished themselves: Antoni Maria—journalist, documentary filmmaker, and theater director—Gerard Maria—founder of Judges for Democracy—Joan Maria—historian—and Margarita 'Lila'—a historic feminist and member of parliament. The young Gerard had studied Law at the University of Barcelona—at that time, higher education did not exist in the Canary Islands: it had been abolished in 1842, and he would contribute decisively to its reinstatement more than a century later—and, as a judge, his first posting was to Nules, in the Valencian Community, followed by Manacor. In 1956, he was promoted to the next rank in the judicial hierarchy—magistrate—and in 1973 to president of the Administrative Law Chamber of the Territorial Court. The High Court did not exist then; it was established after the granting of autonomy.
In 1948, the great roundup took place, with the fall of the clandestine communist structure in Mallorca. Here we find another case of a discordant note: a military judge, Lieutenant Colonel Torres, who, despite his reputation for being tough, made the unusual decision to prosecute the police officers who had tortured the detainees. Unsuccessfully, of course. He was a "good person," he said of one of those who had suffered reprisals.
"A gentleman vilified by his own people"
The case was heard in civil court, and the investigation was handled by Gerard Maria Thomàs. One of the detainees, Llorenç Noguera, described him as "a true gentleman." If Noguera let slip something inappropriate during the interrogation, this rather peculiar judge would correct him: "Don't say that," to prevent him from putting his foot in it. He also filed a complaint for mistreatment, which likewise came to nothing. And he granted provisional release to all of them. "Thomàs, later," Noguera added, "was vilified by his own people," just a few years later.
Judge Thomàs continued to help them even after their release. José Peralta, who had even threatened to kill him because his father was very ill and he hadn't yet been questioned, found work as a telegraph operator. But he lacked the official union membership card of the regime. So he went to see the judge at his house, and the judge signed a document for him that forced the officials to regularize their situation. Thomàs was, obviously, on the winning side. He had fought in the war with the ranks of brigadier, second lieutenant, and reserve lieutenant. In 1949, he rose to the local leadership of the Movement, the single party of Franco's regime, as a councilor and, shortly after, as deputy provincial chief, that is, as the second-highest authority after the governor. This wouldn't last long. Thomàs opened an investigation into "the Artà affair," an alleged case of corruption involving his colleagues, who wasted no time in hatching a conspiracy against this meddler. Things escalated to such a point that the civil governor ordered the police to prevent his "second-in-command" from leaving the island, lest he go to Madrid and expose this shady dealing. The Falangist judge was summarily dismissed. Those involved celebrated the defeat of that dangerous dissident.
The exhumation of a victim of '36
Thomàs was still deputy head of the Movement when, in 1953, he intervened in another surprising matter in Manacor: the exhumation of a victim of the crimes of 1936, very likely the first in the entire country. Those were not times for democratic memory, far from it. Gabriela Grimalt, a woman of strong religious beliefs, had reported a neighbor, Joan Llull, for letting his flock graze on her land. A few weeks later, Grimalt, accompanied by two other women, encountered Llull, a Falangist volunteer, who was armed and detained her while letting her companions go. That was September 1, 1936. He had not been seen since.
The accusation against Joan Llull for allegedly forcing his wife to have an abortion—it seems he was also an abuser—encouraged Miquel Mesquida, the missing woman's son, to report the crime that had occurred seventeen years earlier. This led to Llull's arrest, who, of course, denied any guilt. But two witnesses recounted how he had forced them, rifle in hand, to dig a hole where they buried Gabriela Grimalt's body.
As the investigating judge, Thomàs made a historic decision: to exhume the woman's body from where it had been left and have a forensic expert examine her remains. Arguments were presented in Llull's favor, such as his being a Falangist. A surreal episode of that regime: the judge himself, as deputy head of the Movement, had to draft a document to this effect, using information provided by the Manacor City Council. However, Llull was accused of murder. But too much time had passed, and the statute of limitations had expired. Thomàs had to close the case.
From his dismissal in 1955, Thomàs distanced himself from the regime he had once been a part of. He still tried—without much success—to use his old contacts to help his son-in-law, Miquel Rosselló, a communist militant, who had been imprisoned. He spoke with Alejandro Rodríguez de Valcárcel, former provincial governor of the Balearic Islands and then president of the Francoist Cortes, to try to get him parole. "Reds don't get privileges," was the reply.
Another characteristic of Gerard Maria Thomàs was his interest in culture, particularly figures like Ramon Llull and Junípero Serra. He authored the study Considerations on the ideas of unity and peace in the legal thought of Ramon LlullAlso, for its historical heritage, such as the windmills of Mallorca. In 1926, at only twenty-one years old, he had been one of the founders of the Bach Association for Early and Contemporary Music, promoted by his brother Joan Maria, which represented a breath of fresh air in the stagnant and complacent island environment.
It must have been for this reason, and also because of the position he still held in the single party at the time, that he was considered when the then civil governor, José Manuel Pardo, launched the new Estudi General Lul·lià in 1951. Gerard Maria Thomàs was in charge of modifying the statutes so that it would not be so dependent on the Movement, nor on the governor himself. Against the opinions of those who wanted to make this entity a purely regime institution, it was placed under the authority of the University of Barcelona, with a very clear objective: that higher education would once again be taught in the Islands, as indeed happened.
His willingness to engage in dialogue is well demonstrated by the fact that Governor Pardo entrusted Thomàs with smoothing over tensions with the Maioricensis Schola Lullisica, an existing institution, which was undisguisedly unsettled by this new 'Lullian' creation. The judge and parish priest met several times with its head, Francesc Sureda Blanes.
Thomàs was the first rector of the new Estudi General. He had the collaboration of some figures who were not particularly enthusiastic about the regime, such as the editor and philologist Francesc de Borja Moll, with whom he shared a close friendship—and family ties, through the marriage of their respective children, Bienvenida Thomàs and Joan Moll. The judge also considered other elements deemed manifestly suspicious by the regime: between 1971 and 1976, the Balearic Cultural Association, founded by Moll himself, carried out most of its activities at the Studio. Gerard Maria Thomàs died in Palma on December 11, 1985. According to his daughter, Lila Thomàs, he had followed the political developments of those last years, with the Transition and the arrival of democracy, with great interest: "He was a very open-minded person who listened to dialogue. He was open-minded." She had certainly known him well, from the inside. And what she had seen was certainly not to his liking.
Some of Gerard Maria Thomàs's children, including Lila, joined the Communist Party when it was not only illegal and clandestine, but the regime's ultimate bête noire. He lived with this "with concern," recalls Lila Thomàs, in case any of them were arrested, because as a judge he knew perfectly well what it was like to have to go through Franco's prisons. "He had a very humane view of the law," and when Miquel Rosselló, also a communist and one of her friends, was imprisoned, he showed "a very supportive attitude."
Family meals at Thomàs's house weren't for arguments, he recalls, but rather for "debate" on current affairs. The former Falangist read decidedly progressive publications of the time, such as Destino and Cuadernos para el diálogo. His daughter Lila believes his political evolution must have been similar to that of the well-known politician Joaquín Ruiz-Giménez, who went from being a minister under Franco to a prominent opposition leader and, later in the democratic era, Ombudsman. Thomàs could probably also be considered a Christian Democrat, given his Catholic convictions.
Lila Thomàs was a candidate for Congress for the Communist Party in the 1977 elections, and it was her father who suggested she not get her hopes up too high about being elected. And he was right. The communists had been key players in the underground opposition, but they wouldn't be so prominent at the ballot box.
Information compiled from texts by David Ginard, Joan Mas Quetglas, Antoni Tugores and Román Piña Homs, the memoirs of Francisco de Borja Moll and Miquel Rosselló and the testimonies of Lila Thomàs and Antoni Maria Thomàs.