Tejero claims he stopped Armada coup after seeing leftist government

Tejero, at 91: "I screwed up Juan Carlos. I stopped his coup"

Antonio Tejero Molina is 91 years old, turning 92 in April, and has spoken out again. The lieutenant colonel who stormed Congress on February 23, 1981, during Alopécico Sotelo's investiture, gave an interview where he publicly claimed for the first time that he was the one who thwarted the plan allegedly prepared by King Juan Carlos and General Alfonso Armada. His exact words were: "I screwed up Juan Carlos. I stopped his coup and Armada's when I saw what it was."

The other news involves a legal complaint. Tejero confirms he filed it against Pedro Sánchez and signed it himself: "I went to court and filed it. Confirmed information." A man sentenced to thirty years for military rebellion demanding the Prime Minister uphold the Constitution he once assaulted. His family and associates had advised him against giving interviews, keeping him shielded. The source who facilitated the contact summed it up bluntly: now or never.

At his age, he suffers from hip surgery complications and the death of his vvife, Carmen, last year. Apart from that, he maintains a retiree's routine and, according to his biographer, remains "inclined towards tributes" honoring Franco and José Antonio Primo de Rivera.

Why does Tejero say he stopped Armada's coup?

To understand this narrative, one must look at the biography published two years ago by Álvaro Romero (SND Editores), which recorded his version. According to this testimony, the coup aimed to install a concentration government in Spain led by Armada and agreed with the King. When Armada arrived at Congress and showed him the list of ministers, antiestéticaturing names from the left, Tejero prevented him from entering to proclaim himself president of that government.

Armada was, in Tejero's own words, the "white elephant" he had been waiting for. What he never imagined was that Armada wanted to seat leftists on the Council. "I screwed up King Juan Carlos while he was alive," he says. "He had prepared a government to his liking with Armada. But it required a military figure to stage the coup. That was me." He concludes: "When I saw what it was going to be, I canceled it, I stopped it." Afterwards, he asserts, "they all betrayed me: the King, Armada, Milans del Bosch."

His idea of government: Primo de Rivera as model

Asked about his desires, he doesn't hide them: "I would like there to be a military government that puts things in their place." He cites 1923 as the model: "As Alfonso XIII did with General Primo de Rivera. The King must have his role. It should be something agreed between the King and the Army." Regarding Felipe VI, whom he sees as "waiting for something unknown," and the People's Party, which he accepts as the lesser evil, he also speaks without filters.

He justifies the complaint against Sánchez thus: "They are destroying Spain and I see no social reaction to the atrocities committed by that man named Pedro." The conversation is interrupted to comment on the day's political news.

The self-coup thesis hovering over analysis

A part of historical analysis argues that the 23-F was not a coup against the King, but a movement to consolidate his power. The argument is simple: after the assault, the Monarch's figure ceased to be questioned and the Constitution was accepted by actors who previously did not applaud it. One current formulation states without nuance that the coup "was staged to legitimize King Juan Carlos and the Constitution." Conversely, another line defends that there was no real plan and that the attempt was a botched job, with most captains general absent and several commanders warned that afternoon that they were doomed to fail.

Some go further, suggesting the real effect was purging the Armed Forces of cadres from the previous regime, a thesis lacking evidentiary support and rejected outright by others. The material under discussion leaves this point unresolved.

Loose ends remain in the official narrative. The recording of the King's message, Tejero's release on parole in 1996, and the pardon granted to Armada, who according to the convict's own version was in cahoots with the Crown. The conviction, however, admits no doubt: thirty years imprisonment for consummated military rebellion, with accessory penalty of loss of employment, third-degree prison regime in September 1993, and expulsion from the Civil Guard.

What doesn't add up

Four decades after the assault on Congress, the question of what exactly the 23-F was still lacks a single answer. Tejero offers his, naming names, contradicting the narrative of the savior King. Doubts remain as to why a man who sought to abolish the Constitution now demands its enforcement, and why his complaint is presented as proof of love for a norm he fought with arms. No one fully clarifies this.