NewsBreakingOnline

Basque separatists start to seek forgiveness from victims after group declares end to campaign of violence The hand stretched out to Iñaki García Arrizabalaga was, at least figuratively, covered in blood. But when the 50-year-old university lecturer walked into a cold, anonymous meeting room in the Basque regional capital of Vitoria a few months ago and a member of the terrorist group that killed his father put out his hand, García decided to shake it. “I had no idea what he was going to say, whether he was going to try to justify what he had done, but I believe that people should be given a chance,” he explained. “In fact, he was more nervous than I was. We spoke for 20 minutes before he could look me in the eye.” The meeting between victim and killer was as remarkable as it was exceptional. García was meeting one of the few members of the Basque separatist group Eta prepared to express genuine repentance for the killing of 829 people over the past 43 years. The encounter came as the Basques, tired of senseless bloodshed, sensed that peace might finally come to this small, northern region of Spain. That peace came last week, when three masked Eta leaders – believed to be lawyer David Pla and two women, Iratxe Sorzáabal and Izaskun Lesaka — declared a definitive end to the bombings and shootings. They did so without achieving their aim of an independent Basque state composed of four Spanish provinces and part of south-west France. Eta was, in effect, admitting defeat. Peace will not, however, bring back García’s father, Juan Manuel – the provincial boss of state telephone company Telefónica. His killing, exactly 31 years ago on Sunday, is just part of the painful divide Eta’s campaign leaves behind – and which must now be healed. “I was 19 and I turned down my father’s offer to drive me to university that morning so that I did not have to cycle in the rain,” García recalled. “Two hours later my brother appeared in my class and said our father hadn’t reached his office. Then we heard that a body had been found on a hillside, so we went to look and there, underneath a blanket, we saw his corpse. “My father left a wife and seven children,” he explained. “My world fell apart. We asked ourselves whether we should flee and the best decision we made was to stay. My father, my mother, and all of us were born here. Why should we go? My first reaction was of hatred, of wanting his killers to suffer the same fate. But with time I realised that hate only destroys you and everything around you,” he said. “So I rebelled and told myself I would not let them ruin my life.” For many years Eta victims kept their heads down, especially in places like San Sebastián – where victims’ families had to put up with graffiti telling them to “Give us back the bullet!” That changed over time, but then García realised that many victims had themselves become haters. “I was worried about the messages I was hearing opposed to reconciliation. Then I got a call asking if I was interested in meeting Eta prisoners who had done some soul-searching and wanted to ask the victims for pardon. I said yes,” he said. He will not name the man he met, but knows – although he was not involved in García’s father’s death – that he had killed several people. “He had spent 20