Jose Luis Aranguren

It was cloudy, and many of the 5000 or so students marching toward the rector's house at the University of Madrid were carrying unbrellas. There was no talking as they walked, 14 abreast, bundled against the February chill.

That morning they had assembled in a university hall to decide how to present the rector with their grievences. It took them an hour, from 1 to 2 p.m., to cover the mile from that hall to the cluster of buildings in front of his house. There they stopped. Some 400 police, one unit on horseback, and the 40 Land Rover jeeps and three Volkswagon Minibusses in which they had come, blocked the way. Three West-German-made water-throwing "tanks" were off to the side.

One of four professors leading the student march, Jose Luis Aranguren, former professor of Ethics and Sociology at the University of Madrid, stepped forward to talk with the commanding officer. "He said he didn't have the authority to turn us back or let us go on," Aranguren recalled recently. "He said we should wait until he talked with his superior on the radio."

"I asked the students to sit down while we waited. I wanted to show the police that we were organized and mature, that this was not a wild demonstration." With the rustle of dresses and the thwack of books hitting asphalt, they sat.

The official conferred with his superior; then someone blew a trumpet. The water throwers began dousing the seated students. Umbrellas popped open--but the high-pressure streams shredded the fabric and twisted the spidery metal ribs.

"Those machines don't carry much water," Aranguren said, "and when they ran out the students were still in place. I was afraid the police were going to do something terrible."

Again the trumpet blew. The police broke their lines and swinging billy clubs charged the students. Some marchers ran to the roadside, picked up stones and hurled them at the police; others escaped into the near-by restaurant at the School of Agriculture. Most ran, littering the road with high-heeled shoes and books.

Aranguren, along with the other three professors was detained by the police and asked to make a deposition on the demonstration. Finally, in August, after months of wrangling over his status, Spain's Minister of Education ruled that he and the three others who had marched would not be allowed to teach at any university in Spain for the rest of their lives.

At 56, Aranguren is a leader-in-exile of the Spanish student movement. He is a thin, dapper man, constantly moving, even when he is sitting down, talking: his hands twirl like pinwheels when he hunts for an English word, and deep lines crease his forehead as he organizes his thoughts. He is always the teacher and writer--he wrote several books on religion and ethics before joining the faculty of the University of Madrid in 1955--forever putting things in historical and philosophical perspective. He is currently on a lecture tour of universities in the United States, speaking on philosophy and Spanish affairs.

"Franco's government hasn't changed, despite the efforts to convince the world that it has," Aranguren insisted. "They have become more conscious of world opinion, so they have become more subtle and refined in their tactics. The government is still brutal, but now the brutality is disguised."

According to Aranguren, the government's claim to have liberalized the rules controlling student behavior is false. All university students in Spain must join the government-affiliated Sindicato Espanol Universitario, or Student's Syndicate. Recently, the government agreed to allow students to elect representatives to the organization; previously they were government-appointed.

"But this is only a gesture," Aranguren said. "The students representatives have authority over only technical affairs like the scheduling of classes. If they want to produce a play, they have it approved by a government official."

The march last February, Aranguren said, was a protest against such undemocratic procedures. "I think the government reacted the way they did because they are afraid that everyone will get more freedom if the students do."

He did not consider the protest a failure, though the government has not changed its position. "Many families in Madrid had first-hand reports of what went on; when they say what the newspapers said about it they realized perhaps for the first time, that the Spanish press lies."

Aranguren admitted that economically at least, Spain is making headway. "I am an economic determinist," he said. "Franco has encouraged tourism, foreign investment and the emigration of Spanish workers to other European countries. But I think that the time was right for these things. He doesn't deserve much credit for them."

He conceded that this economic program might lead to a loosening of political controls. "This is, I think, what the United States hopes will happen. It is their reason for supporting a dictator like Franco."

He hunched his shoulders together, spreading his arms at the same time. "The idea that economic change must proceed political change is a Marxist doctrine. I am not a Marxist. I am somewhat pessimistic about the future of Spain."