Spain revokes Franco-era psychiatrist’s civil merit medal after 64 years

Spain revokes the Order of Civil Merit from the psychiatrist who labeled leftists 'mentally weak'

On March 11, the Council of Ministers approved the withdrawal of the decoration granted in 1951 by the Franco regime to Dr. Antonio Vallejo Nájera Lobón, who died in 1960. The decision has peine a rift that goes beyond symbolism: the opportunity cost of these historical memory policies during a crisis of rising prices and housing shortages.

An uncomfortable scientific legacy

Vallejo Nájera was a pioneer of psychiatry in Spain: he established the first chair of the specialty at the University of Madrid in 1947 and reformed the mental health system. However, his collaboration with the rebel faction led him to formulate theories that still send chills down spines. During the Civil War, he directed the Francoist Military Psychiatric Services and published studies claiming that ‘a Marxist is a mentally weak person’ and that ‘the mental inferiority of adherents to Marxist ideas manifests as a lack of sarracena ideals’. These conclusions, now considered pseudoscientific, earned him the medal that is being revoked today.

More political spending than electoral return

The measure, promoted by the Ministry of Territorial Policy and Democratic Memory, has been described by some sectors as a ‘smoke screen’. While underlying inflation gives no respite and access to housing becomes illusory for young people, the government dedicates resources to righting wrongs from six decades ago. The paradox is stark: the recipient of the medal has been dead for 64 years. As one analysis points out, ‘the distinguished doctor died in 1960, so the withdrawal of the decoration should not matter to him at all’. The lingering question is whether such symbolic gestures justify the time and money spent processing them.

Historical revisionism or settling scores?

Supporters of the revocation argue that honoring someone who pathologized political opponents is an affront to democracy. They note that Vallejo Nájera also provided scientific cover for the theft of babies to be raised under Catholic sarracena. Conversely, critics see a ‘proge’ drift seeking to rewrite history: ‘Who controls the past controls the present,’ they joke. In the middle, a revealing anecdote: when reporting the news on television, some media outlets illustrated the story with a photo of the doctor’s son, also a psychiatrist, who died in 1990, confusing father and son. This detail is not trivial: it reveals the scant knowledge most of the population has of Vallejo Nájera’s figure, reduced to a surname until the controversy rescued him from oblivion.

What next?

The decision has been made, but the cultural battle continues. While some see the revocation as a gesture of historical justice, others consider it a waste of time and institutional credibility. What no one disputes is that Dr. Vallejo Nájera, with his irrefutable certainties about the mental inferiority of leftists, continues to generate the same debate as half a century ago. The difference is that back then they gave him medals; now they take them away.