Would you look at this creep? Was there a vampire lookalike contest in Madrid?

José Antonio Primo de Rivera y Sáenz de Heredia, a mouthful of a name for a man who, at first glance, had a standard rich boy’s life, then got himself in with an equally awful man and got his name into history.

Born in Madrid on 24 April 1903, he got to inherit the noble title 3rd Marquis of Estella, from his father Miguel Primo de Rivera, Spain’s dictator through the 1920’s. He started with a typical aristocratic lifestyle, learning from home while being raised by his aunt, riding horses on the rich family’s estates, and then stumbled through university. Over six years, he received an excellent bachelors and doctorate in law while running a group opposing education policies. He graduated the same year his father became Spain’s dictator, assuming he could a better job than politicians. The sense of entitlement was huge in this family.

Baby Rivera went to do his one-year military service while Daddy Rivera started imposing his will on the country. Baby Rivera then got court-martialed for punching his superior officer. The officer had written a letter against Daddy Rivera and his son felt that violence would be the answer. But, naturally, a dictator’s son can hardly receive much of a punishment. (To be fair, the officer was Gonzalo Queipo de Llano, a nasty human being in his own right).

By 1925, Baby Rivera was back to being a lawyer in Madrid, working quietly in his office. With Spain going down the toilet for a variety of reasons, Daddy Rivera was forced to give up his hold on the country in early 1930, and died in Paris shortly after. Now, Baby Rivera was ready for politics.

Spain was in turmoil by the time of the 1931 election, and Rivera strangely ran for office as a monarchist for the Unión Monárquica Nacional party, and also oversaw (which was in opposing competition) the Agrupación al Servicio de la República. The monarchy fled Spain, and Second Republic was born. Rivera was on the wrong side of history. He managed to get his first arrest a year later in the 1932 Sanjurjo coup (also a failure).

But this young fascist was no quitter. By 29 October 1933, he launched his new Falange Española party in Madrid. His opening speech included his feeling that violence was important and democracy… not so important. He stressed that change could not come by elections, but by force. Despite a lack of serious numbers to the party, they could be noticed by the ‘right’ people (meaning rich and mean).

A month later, Rivera ran for office in the election again, for the Unión Agraria y Ciudadana, part of the CEDA (Confederación Española de Derechas Autónomas) group of parties. This time he won, to represent Cadiz in the far south. In February 1934, the Falange merged with the Juntas de Ofensiva Nacional-Sindicalista, and they became known as the Falange Española de las Juntas de Ofensiva Nacional-Sindicalista, with Rivera as leader. Then things really went south.

In early 1935, the Falangists started attacking Jewish stores, believing that violence was acceptable, because both Jews and Freemasons had too greater influence. Any meetings or rallies involving Rivera and the Falange were the scene of constant fighting and racism. The country was becoming a whirlpool of disaster – perfect for a violence-loving man like Rivera.

February 1936 saw another election, with the left-wing Popular Front winning. The Falangists only gained a mere 0.7% of the vote. But hate was on Rivera’s side. Despite the appalling turnout, right-wing sympathisers flocked to the tiny fascist party in the wake of the election, with 40,000 haters quickly signing up to the Falange. Suddenly the amount of voices spouting fascist rubbish was growing, stability was at nil, and the Falange were telling everyone to obey their leaders and prepare for burden.

Rivera hated everything. He spouted fascist rhetoric from Germany and Italy, despised democracy, had a thirst for war, believed women were useless, that people shouldn’t even be allowed to vote, and generally sounded like the Trump of his time. He liked to write poems, mostly about Spain being saved in its hour of truth, ruling with iron fists, blah blah.

Rivera got arrested in Madrid on 14 March 1936, on a charge of illegally possessing a firearm. They held him in custody for nine weeks and shipped him off to Alicante on the eastern coast. Sadly, things were too relaxed there and Rivera could still work with his party to be part of the group planning a military coup against the government. Rivera also wrote with General Franco, and had guns and ammo in his cell.

July 17 saw the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War, the Falange party standing alongside the rebels as the military rose up and killed thousands. Rivera remained behind bars, now in solitary confinement doing nothing while Spain burned. Franco was busy taking over a country with violence, but Rivera languished in jail. Franco never liked Rivera (calling him a foppish playboy) and Rivera played no role in the uprising. The Republicans even tried to swap Rivera for one of their prisoners, and Franco didn’t want him back. Franco took the rhetoric, took the support, and left Rivera to rot.

As Spain heaved through immense pain, it wasn’t until October 3 that Rivera got officially charged with conspiracy against the Republic and military insurrection. As a lawyer, he defended himself, with another failure on his part. He was convicted on November 18, and executed at dawn on November 20.

The Falange party was small, but they did one thing for Franco – while the soldiers were fighting on the front lines, the fascist nut-jobs were running in among the population, carrying out murders to aid the war. Franco had the army, and the fascists, the carlists and the monarchists, the churchmen and their followers, on his side, in every town and city. The Falange party was swallowed in 1937 when Franco killed their new leader, Rivera’s deputy, and gave the job to his brother (talk about a booby-prize). But Franco used Rivera, and his death, as propaganda. A facsist leader, embodying all the evil behaviour necessary to be a right-wing leader, was a great symbol for the haters who fought for Franco. Dead Rivera was named the 1st Duke of Primo de Rivera. When the war ended in 1939, Franco had Rivera’s body put in the royal El Escorial temporarily, and then moved in to Franco’s own super tomb, Valle de los Caídos, in 1959 at its grand opening. Franco also died on November 20, making the day a real super-freak anniversary.

Check out the anniversary of Franco dying  – The Beginners Guide to the 40th Anniversary of Franco’s Death

Check out the 80th anniversary of the death of someone great instead – 80 Years Since The Death of Buenaventura Durruti – 20 November 1936

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This is not a detailed analysis, just a highlight of Rivera’s life. Unlike most posts, there is no room for comments, as I don’t want to talk to anyone who supports fascism. I also do not want any more photos of him, his work, his Falange symbols or anything else on my site.