Abstract
Fermin Muguruza performs at a concert held in Kreuzberg, Berlin, in May 2013
Credit: Krzysztof Gajewski
Basque musician
But the period also inspired his music: “After the death of Franco, the punk-rock movement exploded in my mind and I formed my first band called Kortatu, first singing in Spanish and then, when I learned my own language, in Basque.”
Muguruza went on to form the band Negu Gorriak in the 1990s, followed by his own record label Esan Ozenki and film company Talka Records and Films.
He began playing music at an early age. “The accordion was my first instrument when I was eight years old. Then, any song with lyrics could have a double meaning, like Christmas songs about children coming back home to speak about freedom for political prisoners. Little by little I started listening to protest songwriters clandestinely.”
Today he chronicles his reality with singing: “In the years of political transition from dictatorship, the songs of my bands were one of the few ways to tell the unofficial versions of what happened. A lieutenant colonel of the Guardia Civil accused me in a judicial proceeding of ‘staining his honour’. There followed 10 years of trials – I won when he was sent to prison in 2000.”
But censorship has not disappeared from his life. During the presidency of José María Aznar, long after Franco’s demise in 1975, Muguruza was banned from playing in certain cities around Spain.
“When Aznar was president, in 2003, I was touring. The tour became critical of the closure of the only newspaper in the Basque language, the ecological disaster of the tanker Prestige, and the pretence of going to war against Iraq, with Blair and Bush. Aznar banned me, saying I was supporting terrorists.
“After this, I was not allowed to play in a lot of cities of Spain [those cities governed by Aznar’s Partido Popular], even if I have a lot of fans who want to come and enjoy my concerts,” he said.
He is hopeful that ban may soon be lifted, but in the meantime he can tour around the world and sing in probably the oldest language in Europe, Basque. “Songs are our legacy, our historical memory. We can lose wars, but generations that do not know us will be able to sing our songs.”
Hitz egin
Talk!
Yeah, I also have done
Recitals of bertolt brecht.
I was speaking out
Loud against injustice.
For sure my talk
Bothered them
And they decided
To cut my tongue out.
My hands started
To write freely,
Playing the guitar,
My rebel friend
And again
They came after me, and
They left me armless,
Handicapped.
All in vain,
I soon got to figure
How to do things
With my toes.
But my gaze
Must have seemed
To be damning to them
Because the crows
Plucked out my eyes
My mere presence
Must have unnerved them.
My ears only heard
The gunshot.
Will someone raise
Their voice?
By then, however,
Everyone was mute.
Talk!
For freedom of expression!
Talk!
Shoot the Singer
Shoot the singer
From the snake pit, the two-
headed snakes bite, insult,
Spit and spill their venom
It’s funny how comments flare
Easy target, the gunfight’s contagious
Shoot at the pianist too,
As a tribute to Truffaut,
And at everyone that moves
within the picture
Who is a threat to them
“Every time you hear the word
culture, pull out your gun”
Learn the lessons from Goebbels’ manual
Shoot the singer
From the snake pit, the two-
headed snakes bite, insult,
Spit and spill their venom
Credit: Shutterstock
