Mobilities and (Im)mobilities

As Burrell and Hörschelmann have noted, in socialist and post-socialist societies the question “was not one of mobility or immobility, but whose mobility was enabled or restricted, and how specific relations of power and mobility were managed.”⁹ In both socialist Romania and Franco’s Spain, the state attempted to manage mobility. International tourism was but one form of mobility, which both governments regarded as both promising and threatening. Hence, in both countries, the state used international tourism as a bargaining tool to assert and negotiate its power in relation to certain groups. The two regimes applied the same tactics when it came to who could leave or enter the country.

During the late 1940s and early 1950s, both dictatorial regimes set out to limit the movement of their own citizens and that of unwanted foreigners who sought to visit their countries. Although the profile of the groups that the two governments deemed “unwanted” differed in the two countries, the policies were strikingly similar. In Romania until 1960, citizens of capitalist countries traveling by car needed special authorization to exit Bucharest or other large cities (although, as the case of the three French students illustrates, the rules were not always enforced). Citizens from socialist countries found it extremely difficult to get a tourist visa to Spain even in the late 1960s, while the Spanish émigrés who fought against Franco during the civil war could hardly set foot in Spain without being arrested.¹⁰

The limitation of individual mobility in both countries took place in the specific political context of the Cold War. Romania entered the Soviet sphere of influence in 1945, and between 1948 and 1989 the Communist Party became the undisputed ruling party. Between 1948 and the early 1960s, Romania was a relatively disciplined member of the Warsaw Pact, the Eastern Bloc military alliance, and of Comecon, its economic counterpart. Yet in the 1960s it started to forge its own policy that privileged national interests as opposed to the Eastern Bloc’s common policies that Romanian authorities believed mainly favored the Soviet Union.¹¹ This policy change was well received in the chancelleries of the capitalist West, which hoped Romania would become the Soviet bloc’s Trojan horse. However, their expectations were not met because Romania had a quite ambivalent policy, pendulating between the Soviet Union and the capitalist West and contingent on the interests of its political leadership. But even in the 1950s, Romania showed some openness toward Western Europe, or at least its leftist groups, which functioned as channels of communication across the Iron Curtain and whose members were the first to easily visit socialist countries, including Romania.¹²

Spain became a dictatorship in 1939 after the Nationalists’ victory against the Republicans, who supported a democratic Spain, in the civil war. The Nationalists’ victory was in good measure thanks to the support of Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini. Francisco Franco, the head of the Nationalist faction, ruled Spain until his death on November 20, 1975. After World War II, much of the international community isolated Spain; that isolation ended in 1953 when Spain and the United States signed the Pact of Madrid, which promised military and economic aid to Spain. Also in 1953, the Concordat with the Vatican was signed, legitimizing Franco’s regime in the Spaniards’ eyes. Against the backdrop of the Cold War, Spain became important not only because of its access to both the Mediterranean and the Atlantic Ocean, but also because of the deeply ingrained anti-communism of Franco’s regime. Already in June 1951, the US National Security Council devised a policy that stressed Spain’s importance to the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) and set its membership in the Alliance as a military and political goal.¹³ A National Security Council Statement of Policy stated that it would be preferable “If full membership of Spain in NATO would be unacceptably delayed, to conclude alternative mutual security arrangements which would include Spain and which would not prejudice the attainment at the earliest practicable date of Spanish membership in NATO.”¹⁴ In its communication with the other NATO allies, US officials presented Spain as a defender of Western Europe: “United States officials should emphasize in all discussions that the primary role envisaged for Spain is in support of the common policy of defending and not liberating Western Europe.”¹⁵ Henceforth, Spain became an ally of the United States and one of the most active players in the Cold War against the Soviet Union and socialist Eastern Europe throughout the 1950s. As a way to justify its newly acquired position, it became highly vocal against the communist system in Eastern Europe. To cite but one example, following the Soviet intervention in Hungary in 1956, Franco proposed the creation of a coalition of the West against the Soviet Union and socialist countries.¹⁶ Although this idea never went into effect, it was highly indicative of Spain’s attitude toward the socialist world.

During the 1950s, while both the socialist regime in Romania and the Francoist government in Spain consolidated their rule and became more outspoken against their opposite political blocs, international tourism became a mass phenomenon in Europe. Unsurprisingly, international travel and tourism became a political tool in both countries’ international policies. At first, cross-border mobility meant welcoming visitors from the same political bloc, but there were exceptions if foreign visitors held friendly political views. One such example was the World Youth Festival, which Romania, at the request of the Soviet Union, organized in 1953. The first such festival, which was held in 1947 in Prague, brought together young people who were members of Communist parties from all over the world in order to build a working-class consciousness among those youngsters who were fighting capitalism and to promote the ideological superiority of socialism. Not surprisingly, it also served as a form of international tourism.¹⁷ The World Youth Festival in Bucharest brought together 30,000 participants from 111 countries and 400,000 Romanians under the motto: “No! Our Generation will not serve death and destruction!”¹⁸ The festival, which lasted for several weeks, included official events, such as artistic and sports activities, as well as parades and visits across Romania.

The 1953 World Youth Festival triggered unprecedented mobility in socialist Romania as it brought about a melting pot on the streets of Bucharest. Of the approximately 30,000 foreign participants, 14,000 came from Western Europe, 5,500 from the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, 1,000 from the Middle East and North Africa, 1,000 from Asia, and 600 from Latin America.¹⁹ Delegates could freely converse in the streets, take photos, or visit churches if they wished. The young people’s presence in Romania and the message they took home were supposed to convey the normalization of everyday life in the aftermath of the war and the success of socialism in Eastern Europe. The Romanian government went to great lengths to offer the participants in the festival this impression. Consumer goods, which were otherwise lacking, were put on display in shop windows, while food, which in the months before the festivals was in short supply, was made available in canteens and even in restaurants.²⁰ The Romanian state’s attempt to sell the image of the good life in Romania, albeit far from true, was quite successful among the participants in the festival. One Finish delegate explained that his presence in Romania helped him to counter Western propaganda, as US newspapers claimed that in Romania one could not find a loaf of bread, foodstuffs, and other basic goods. The Italian media wrote that in Romania churches were demolished.²¹ To prove these allegations wrong, he took photos of churches and of priests.²² The festival triggered unprecedented discussions about the socialist and capitalist ways of life between the participants and young Romanians. A French student told a group of Romanians that “things in Romania are well.”²³ When one person from the crowd disclosed that before the festival, people were starving while now food was squandered, the Frenchman called him “a liar and a reactionary.”²⁴

Capitalist Western Europe was just recovering from World War II, and ordinary people were still struggling with hardships and increased inequality, which the inchoate welfare state could not fully resolve.²⁵ Hence, it is no surprise that one Frenchman noted that Romanian students had free access to libraries and fellowships, while needy French students had to take care of elderly people in order to support themselves through school.²⁶ Although politically divided, in the early 1950s Eastern and Western Europe faced similar problems, such as poverty and housing shortages, along with a constant fear of the opposite political bloc. Moreover, it was difficult to assess which political model had a better chance of succeeding. To the Western communists, socialism looked more promising than capitalism as a political system.²⁷ Paradoxically, it was travel across the Iron Curtain into a socialist country like Romania that encouraged such reflections. As these impressions were carefully monitored by the Securitate, which was hardly indifferent to the behavior of these Western visitors and their interactions with Romanians, it also worked as a signal to the Romanian authorities that some sort of mobility between capitalist West and socialist East could produce positive outcomes for the communist regime. This was, in fact, the conclusion of a meeting of the NATO on September 14, 1953, which appreciated that the Youth Festival in Bucharest was a propaganda effort on behalf of the Romanian authorities.²⁸

On the other side of the Iron Curtain, Franco’s Spain, an active participant in the anti-communist bloc and a staunch ally of the United States, was also “fighting for peace and friendship,” according to Gabriel Arias Salgado, the Spanish minister of information and tourism.²⁹ No Spanish resident took part in the 1953 World Youth Festival in Bucharest, as Spanish citizens could not obtain passports to travel to socialist countries. In the early 1950s, Spain mostly welcomed as tourists wealthy individuals from developed capitalist countries, or those coming on pilgrimages to Catholic sites, such as Santiago de Compostela. Spain too was trying to sell the impression of the good life, although a large majority of the population was struggling with poverty and even starvation.³⁰

The Castellana Hilton Hotel opened in Madrid in 1953 the first foreign hotel to operate in Franco’s Spain, was a case in point. The hotel epitomized luxury and affluence, in stark contrast to how most Spaniards lived. The Castellana Hilton Hotel was supposed to cater to American visitors and the well-to-do Spaniards close to Franco’s government. Yet a panoply of contradictions marked the launch of the hotel. Although the Spanish authorities saw the economic advantages of having a Hilton Hotel in Madrid, they still regarded foreign investors with suspicion. Moreover, the financial regulations in place did not leave much room for economic cooperation with foreign firms. The import of foreign goods required special approval, while the pesetas earned in Spain could only be exchanged in hard currencies through the Spanish Foreign Exchange Institute (IEME) at an officially approved rate.³¹ Moreover, in the early 1950s, no foreign firm could legally operate in Spain. To get around this law, the Castellana Hilton Hotel ended was a joint endeavor of Hilton International, an American firm established by Conrad Hilton in 1948, and of Industriale Carmen, a business owned by a Spanish tycoon. However, most financial obligations were the responsibility of the Hilton Corporation.³² In the eyes of Spanish authorities, the association with Hilton was a necessary evil meant to overcome the shortage of capital. Unsurprisingly, the hotel’s opening put American-Spanish collaboration to the test. For one thing, the Spanish partner asked the American corporation to cover more expenses than initially agreed to in order to pay for an American-made kitchen imported via West Germany. There was also a continuous shortage of basic supplies, such as toilet paper, which had to be smuggled through British Gibraltar.³³ This led to continuous delays, with the opening of the hotel being postponed from late 1952 to early 1953 and finally to the fall of 1953.³⁴

In October 1953, when the opening of the hotel finally took place, Arias Salgado did not miss the opportunity to note the importance of cross-border tourism and travel. But he also reminded the American guests that Spain had supported the United States’ independence in the eighteen century and strongly supported its fight against communism in Europe.

Our nation expects the visit of two million tourists from all countries this year … and we understand that the presence of this great hotel represents an important help [in this process]. We hope our foreign visitors, especially North Americans, will find our country a place of peace, hospitality, courtesy, and respect.… We remind you that Spain is different from your country [the United States] and from other countries in Europe.… Rich and glorious Spain supported with money and firearms the Unites States’ independence while the Spain of Franco, as a sole head of state and without any Marshal [Plan] help, isolated and without any external help, took it upon itself to defend the world against communism.³⁵

Salgado’s reminder that Spain was different from the United States and Western European countries aimed to distinguish the Spanish path from both the West’s liberalism and Eastern Europe’s socialism. It also revealed the conundrum that characterized Spain’s tourist policies: while tourists were welcomed, they were supposed to obey the laws of the land, which were different than in their home countries. At the same time, Salgado’s speech is soaked with excessive national pride, which, he suggests, cannot be tainted by American money. But regardless of what Salgado had in mind when he gave this speech, the wheel of change was set in motion, and the presence of the Castellana Hilton proved it.

In the early 1950s, although both Romania and Spain still operated within their respective political blocs, they became increasingly active in the pan-European arena, which forced them to amend their domestic policies. At least formally, religious sites in Romania entered the tourist circuit. In Spain, the state had to break its previous policy of economic autarchy so that a hotel like the Castellana Hilton could exist. Although in both countries the Cold War discourse remained strong and served as a form of legitimization, change was looming, and tourism emerged as one economic sector that both governments came to regard as promising for their economies but also for their image in the eyes of citizens compared to the more economically developed Northwestern Europe.

Early International Tourism in the Two Dictatorships

Throughout the 1950s, international tourism was closely intertwined with domestic politics in both Romania and Spain. The two states closely controlled the movement of money and people across their borders. Both governments attempted to limit who could visit or leave their countries as well as the quantity of foreign or domestic currency tourists took over their borders. Because both economies were still outside the global market and mostly operated in their respective geographical region (Spain) or political bloc (Romania), hard currencies were rare and a state monopoly. Similarly, crossing the border into the two countries involved a painstaking inspection of people and goods, which made the whole process difficult and unwelcoming. Moreover, the regulations for border crossing were vague or entirely absent.

In socialist Romania, the first law to regulate the circulation of people across the border was issued only in 1957. Before that, everyone who traveled abroad had to receive individual approval from the Council of Ministers, reflecting the rather privileged nature of crossing the border. The 1957 regulation provided a legal framework for those who wanted to travel abroad but did not change much. The conditions under which a Romanian citizen could take trips abroad were still limiting as the law stated that the Council of Ministers had to preapprove all exit visas and passports.

A different approach transpired, however, when it came to visitors from abroad, as the government seemed to genuinely want to develop international tourism in the mid-1950s. One early attempt to reconnect Romania with the rest of the world beyond the socialist bloc was made in 1954 when the Tourist Section of the General Working Confederation received an invitation to participate in the International Union of Official Travel Organizations meeting, which was supposed to take place in London.³⁶ The Romanian delegation did not make it to London because the permission to participate in this meeting came only in December 1954, three months after the meeting.³⁷ But change was afoot. Just one year later, in 1955, Sorin Firu, the head of the National Office for Tourism–Carpathians (ONT–Carpathians), the new state tourist office, stated in the New York Times that Romania “plans to throw her gates wide open to tourists.”³⁸ The ONT–Carpathians was expecting 100,000 tourists to visit, especially from “Western Europe and [the] Western Hemisphere.”³⁹ At the same time, Firu noted that Romanians were also allowed to travel, and two hundred Romanian tourists were getting ready to leave for Moscow as he spoke.⁴⁰

The Romanian authorities’ intention to reestablish ties with capitalist countries was exemplified by a proposal made to Pan American Airlines, the main airline carrier in the United States, in which it expressed its interest in establishing an airline connection between the United States and Romania. This proposal seemed like a follow-up on the de-Stalinization project that was initiated by Nikita Khrushchev in February 1956. Hence, in August 1956, the chief of the Romanian Air Transport Agency (TAROM), Vl. Stîngaciu, wrote to H. E. Gray, executive vice president of Pan Am’s Atlantic Division, to explore the possibility of such a project:

We are desirous of augmenting the air transport relations between our two companies. With this idea, we propose that one of your lines make a flight in transit via Bucharest, and if you agree with our proposal, we would like to initiate discussions about this matter. In the event of your reaction to the above proposal, please advise us of your agreement and the date your representative will come to Bucharest to discuss the matter.⁴¹

The proposal took the American company by surprise. After informal consultations with the State Department, Pan Am decided to tactfully decline the Romanians’ proposal. A letter signed by H. E. Grey stated:

We wish to express our appreciation for your writing us regarding the possibility of Pan American World Airways’ establishing air service between the United States and Bucharest. At the present time we are reviewing the availability of aircraft to meet our scheduled requirements. In the event it appears the inclusion of Bucharest on our operation is feasible, we will contact you for further discussion on this matter.⁴²

Cold War prejudgments and fears remained strong on both sides of the Iron Curtain despite the relative opening initiated by the Geneva Summit in 1955 and Nikita Khrushchev’s policy that shifted the focus of the Cold War from military tensions to economic competition.⁴³ Romanian air transportation authorities followed these developments and, in 1956, TAROM was negotiating the opening of a direct line between Brussels and Bucharest operated by Sabena, the Belgian air company.⁴⁴ The air connection was in full operation in 1957.⁴⁵ As a result, the number of visitors from capitalist countries continued to grow in socialist Romania. In 1957, 7,800 tourists visited Romania; by 1961, the number of Western tourists reached 20,000.⁴⁶

In 1956, the soaring number of tourists from both socialist and capitalist countries prompted the first study of travel options in the Prahova Valley, a mountain region located 80 miles from the Romanian capital of Bucharest. Put together by the brand new National Institute for Research and Development in Tourism, the study mapped the main tourist routes and the facilities that could be visited by “foreign tourists coming by coach from Bucharest who found lodging in hotels in Sinaia or Stalin’s Town (nowadays Brasov) during a seven-day trip.”⁴⁷ The conclusions of the study were optimistic as it pinpointed two hotels in Sinaia that could host foreign tourists: Postăvarul Hotel “providing all necessary comfort” and Victory Day (May 9) Hotel, which offered “stylishly furnished rooms with individual bathrooms.”⁴⁸ Both hotels had restaurants on site that could serve meals “similar to the best restaurants in Bucharest.”⁴⁹ Despite this promising description of hotels and restaurants, the road that connected Sinaia with the Victory Day (May 9) Hotel situated at Cota 1400 (an elevation of 4,593 feet) was in poor condition, and tourists could reach the place only by regular buses because tourist coaches were too bulky and would have become stuck on the narrow and unmodernized road.⁵⁰

Prahova Valley was a well-known tourist region in Romania as it was a privileged holiday destination for well-to-do Romanians since the late nineteenth century, when Peleș Royal Castle was built by King Carol I as a summer residence.⁵¹ During the interwar period, Sinaia welcomed both the wealthy elites who built villas in the region and the emerging bourgeoisie who lodged in the new hotels, so it was not surprising that some of the tourist infrastructure was in good condition. In fact, the 1956 study capitalized on the interwar inheritance and suggested Peleș Castle and Sinaia Monastery as two possible tourist destinations.⁵² But this does not mean that in 1956 Romania was an accessible country for tourists. Hugo V. Seib, a journalist from Frankfurt Allgemeine Zeitung, toured Romania in 1957, and in an article titled “Rumänien mit dem Auto” (Romania by Car), he wrote that he enjoyed his visit to the Brukenthal Museum in Sibiu but complained about the roads and conditions in hotels. “I would have loved to say positive things about the hotels as well. Unfortunately, the highly praised ‘Romischer Kaiser’ [today Păltiniș] looks quite bad. Not even the lovely delegation comprised of a councilor from the City Popular Council, a county school inspector, and a school teacher that welcomed me in the hotel lobby managed to change my impression.”⁵³

The growth of international tourism from Western countries to Romania in the late 1950s took place against the backdrop of Geneva Summit in 1955, Nikita Khrushchev’s détente, recommendations from Western leftist leaders, and similar trends in other East European socialist countries. Although Romania did not take part in the Geneva Summit, which was only reserved for the “great four” (the United States, Great Britain, France, and the Soviet Union), it closely followed events despite showing a rather poor understanding of the international context. In January 1956, the Romanian Workers’ Party Central Committee argued that “Starting from the assumption that following the 1955 foreign ministers summit in Geneva the relations between east and west might worsen temporarily, we believe that it won’t revert to the so-called Cold War as it was known, although Western countries might attempt to compromise the rapprochement.”⁵⁴ In the mid-1950s, Romania was still a close follower of the Soviet Union, and anti-Western discourse dominated official rhetoric. This stance only shifted after Nikita Khrushchev’s “secret” speech in February 1956 where he criticized Stalin, signaling a change of course in Soviet politics. Following Khrushchev’s speech, Romania began to reach out to some Western countries. Already in October 1956, a United States delegation came to Bucharest to discuss a potential treaty with Romania. The talks focused on the sensitive issue of immigration to the United States, especially for the purpose of family reunification, but they also included conversations regarding publication in the United States of a magazine about Romania.⁵⁵ Such a magazine could only help to enhance knowledge about Romania in the United States and eventually increase tourism from the United States to Romania.

In 1959, tourism was part of the conversation between Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej, the Secretary General of the Romanian Workers’ Party, and Konni Zillacus, a member of the British Parliament from the Labour Party. During this meeting, Zillacus, who attended the August 23 National Day festivities, expressed his admiration for Romania’s natural landscapes and revealed that countries like Great Britain and Yugoslavia made 40 million dollars from international tourism in 1958.⁵⁶ To the surprise of the Romanian leaders, he also emphasized how the nature of international tourism has changed from an industry that catered to the well-to-do to a pastime that workers could afford as well. Although these tourists could only afford a short vacation, Zillacus mentioned that they came in the millions and so their presence was profitable.⁵⁷ Zillacus added that international tourism also had a political connotation because “a considerable number of people get to know the country and its political regime.”⁵⁸ He mentioned to the Romanian political leadership that the charter flight was a new and less expensive mode of transportation that already connected some parts of Western Europe. In response to this, one of the members of the Politburo, Chivu Stoica, enthusiastically declared, “we can do this as well.”⁵⁹

One outcome of this discussion was the changing of border crossing regulations in April 1960. This decree introduced tourist visas for tourists from capitalist countries, while tourists from socialist countries were allowed to enter Romania without a visa.⁶⁰ Citizens from socialist countries could take their vehicles into Romania without special permission from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which encouraged travel by car from neighboring socialist countries.⁶¹ Border areas were supposed to become friendly for tourists as they had to have “shopping areas, restaurants, and modern sanitary facilities.”⁶² These measures were meant to turn Romania into a friendly tourist destination for tourists from both socialist and capitalist countries. It was a major step in encouraging tourism from neighboring socialist countries.

But tourist exchanges within the socialist bloc were already on the Comecon agenda in the late 1950s. Representatives of tourism agencies from socialist countries started to meet in the mid-1950s to discuss how to improve international tourism. A summit in Varna, Bulgaria, in 1955 put forth some general principles, and, in 1957, the national tourist authorities of the Comecon member states held their first conference in Carlsbad, Czechoslovakia, to discuss the matter in greater detail.⁶³ However discussions mainly focused on international tourism within the socialist bloc. It was only in the early 1960s that socialist countries sought to implement more concrete policies to develop international tourism across the East–West divide. This new focus by Comecon countries had an impact on Romania’s vision of tourism. Starting in the early 1960s, international tourism with Western countries gradually became an item on the agenda of the Romanian socialist state.

The turning point was the fourth meeting of socialist tourist organizations that took place in Moscow in 1961. Tourist delegations from the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, as well as Mongolia, North Korea, and North Vietnam, addressed for the first time the possibility of establishing tourism collaborations between socialist and capitalist countries. The second point on the summit’s agenda noted the “importance of developing international tourism between socialist and capitalist countries as a means of popularizing the accomplishments of socialist regimes and of counterattacking the unfriendly imperialist propaganda toward socialist countries.”⁶⁴ The next point on the agenda stated that tourist relationships between socialist and capitalist countries should start from the idea that socialist states could be attractive tourist destinations, as the prices for tourist services were lower than in Southern or Western Europe. The meeting also emphasized that socialist countries should find ways to promote themselves in the capitalist countries’ tourist markets.⁶⁵ In the socialist officials’ view, tourist relations with capitalist countries could counter unfriendly propaganda and prove that socialist reality was not as dull as the Cold War discourse in the West described it. Last but not least, international tourism was supposed to bring substantial revenue to socialist economies.

During the 1961 meeting, Romania was not the strongest voice. Instead, the Romanian delegates’ main concern was to secure the country’s relationships with the other socialist countries. As a result, Romania’s representatives presented a report tackling the “rest tourism” issue and the prospects for its development within the socialist bloc.⁶⁶ Romanian delegates also used this meeting to sign tourist agreements with Intourist (USSR), URBIS (Poland), Čedok (Czechoslovakia), IBUSZ, and EXPRES (Hungary) for 1962. These actions mirrored the Romanian socialist regime’s perspective on tourism, which still emphasized tourism’s role in helping workers recover and regain their strength to become more productive at work.

But the opening of borders was not without risks. The arrival of foreign tourists from capitalist countries sent chills down security officials’ spines, as they thought such visits would encourage espionage. In 1960, the Tulcea branch of the Securitate opened a file to address the specific issue of Western foreign tourists. They justified their decision as follows:

Tulcea District has attracted numerous foreign tourists, including citizens of capitalist countries such as: Americans, English, French, Germans, Belgians, etc. These tourists not only visited the Danube Delta but also took part in hunting trips. Given the possibilities that the city of Tulcea and the Danube Delta offer, especially during the summer, the espionage services can easily slip in their agents. Starting from 1959, 384 tourists from capitalist countries have visited the Danube Delta and Tulcea District.⁶⁷

Although central authorities became interested in developing international tourism, at the local level, Western tourists were often met with suspicion. Overall, from the end of the 1950s to the early 1960s, socialist Romania seemed to have still been poorly equipped to welcome foreign tourists from capitalist countries.

Spain underwent similar transformations that prioritized international tourism in the 1950s. In 1951, a French tourist traveling to Barcelona noticed in surprise that the Spanish customs officer only cursorily checked his bag, which was full of French magazines showing women in bikinis. Nor did he confiscate his stash of pesetas as he was afraid would happen.⁶⁸ Assuming that the customs official was not lazy and inattentive, the example was a sign that the Spanish authorities became more permissive with foreign tourists from neighboring France who were not supposed to be bothered with such trifles. Yet as tourists soon discovered, Spain did not become liberal and permissive overnight. At the hotel, the French tourist had to surrender his passport to the local police and then wait for a couple of hours to get it back before rolling out of town.⁶⁹

Whereas throughout the 1940s tourism was hardly a topic of interest for the Francoist government, during the 1950s the Spanish authorities came to prioritize international tourism. This happened against the backdrop of foreign firms’ interest in developing tourism in Spain, of some local and affluent hotel owners who saw the advantages of international tourism, and the recognition by some state officials that international tourism could be a source of hard currencies and soft power. Hilton International decided to open the Castellana Hotel in Madrid mainly because the number of American travelers to Spain was on the rise. Their numbers increased from 31,579 in 1951 to 50,537 in 1952.⁷⁰ Their presence injected a considerable amount of US dollars into the Spanish economy. Compared to European tourists (French and British), whose expenditures ranged from $10 to $140, American tourists would spend $181 per head in 1950.⁷¹ Yet because Madrid did not have a direct airline connection with the United States, Hilton pushed for a direct flight between Madrid and New York. The first such flight began to operate in August 1954.⁷² Similarly, in the early 1950s, Spain still had a restrictive visa policy toward most West European countries, whose citizens had to queue in front of Spanish consulates, while American tourists were the only ones able to get a visa at the border (for entry, exit, and long stays of up to six months).⁷³ The privileged relationship between Spain and the United States not only helped tourism between the two countries, it also illustrated the economic benefits of international tourism and hence of Spain making it easier for tourists to visit.

During the 1950s, a considerable number of tourists began to arrive from neighboring France by car, or by air from Great Britain and West Germany. The Spanish state was still ill-prepared to welcome these tourists as basic transportation infrastructure was lacking. To better control the tourists’ whereabouts, Autotransporte Turistico Español S.A. (ATESA), a tourist bus company established in 1949, offered three-day tours to interested travelers.⁷⁴ Its advertising flyers in English, French, and Spanish invited tourists to start their journey in Madrid, pass through El Escorial and Segovia, and end their trip in Toledo for $45 per person, which included transportation and lodging at selected hotels. Some tourists traveled on their own to Spain in the 1950s as well. Local inns and hotels, along with private citizens who had an extra room in their homes, seized the opportunity that arose from the arrival of foreign tourists in order to increase their revenue. This happened mostly against the wishes of state authorities, who were rather slow to support international tourism beyond its organized and at times propagandistic tours.⁷⁵

The state’s slow response to the benefits of international tourism in the early 1950s stemmed in good measure from Spanish authorities, who were mostly concerned about the ideological meanings of tourism. For them, tourism helped to promote “a politically correct opinion of Spain and spread out the most authentic knowledge of the history and development of the country among both domestic and foreign tourists.”⁷⁶ Although the government did nothing to stall the influx of foreign tourists, it also did not want to leave to their imagination the task of constructing an image about Spain and its regime. As in the Romanian case, only at the beginning of the 1960s did the focus of Spanish tourism move from a quasi-ideological dimension to a more pragmatic economic approach. It was only in the 1960s that the Spanish government became increasingly aware of the importance of international tourism in generating economic growth and regulating the balance of payments. In 1964, an article in Hostelería, a Spanish tourist magazine, noted that “Tourism is not only important for economic life, but it plays an exceptional role as a means of payment within international trade.”⁷⁷

Yet the turn to international tourism in Spain was just as hesitant as in the Romanian case. Although the profitability of international tourism was the main reason for developing this trade, at the beginning of the 1950s Spain still struggled to overcome the harsh economic conditions and political perceptions that resulted from the international isolation of 1939–1950. This isolation partially ended only in 1950, when Spain became a member of the United Nations and signed an economic agreement with the United States.⁷⁸ The Economic Aid Treaty with the United States pressured the Spanish government to adopt measures to strengthen the peseta to help it regain international credibility and eliminate the cartelization of the Spanish market.⁷⁹

Initially, tourism was but one part of this process of economic opening. Only in 1953 did the General Directorate of Tourism (DGT; Dirección General de Turismo) emerge as a separate agency within the newly created Ministry of Information and Tourism. Nevertheless, as the name of the new ministry suggests, the Spanish government was more concerned with the “information” part of the institution than with the development of tourism. That preference aside, the Tourism Department, together with the General Agency for Social and Economic Planning (Secretaria General para la Ordenación Económica y Social), drafted Spain’s first plan for the development of tourism during Franco’s regime. The opening line of the plan reveals the very optimistic approach that Spanish officials had toward developing tourism in Spain; it also suggests the reasons for developing tourism: “We believe that the political and economic importance which tourism has for our country is an obvious fact which does not need any explanation.”⁸⁰

For Spanish officials, the main objective of developing the tourism sector was to build a positive image of Franco’s regime, as tourism was deemed “one of the most effective means of propaganda.”⁸¹ The 1952 Plan Nacional de Turismo listed the economic reasons as being of secondary importance: “On the one hand, it helps develop other industrial and commercial sectors, and on the other hand, [tourism] is an important source of foreign currencies.”⁸² Moreover, in the beginning, Spanish officials did not regard tourism as an activity that could thrive independently but only as a support for other economic sectors, some of which remained underdeveloped.

The plan also outlined the sectors that Spain needed to improve to make the country more attractive to foreign tourists: easier and faster border control, better roads and railways, and enhanced tourist infrastructure. The mention of easier and faster border control among the first measures to be taken suggests that the government was aware of the difficulty of welcoming foreign tourists into a country that suspected and restricted foreign contacts and influence.⁸³

Moreover, many Europeans had their own reasons for not vacationing in Spain. Many still remembered the negative image of the Spanish Civil War (1936–1939) and that the victory of the Nationalist forces led by Franco depended in good measure on Hitler’s and Mussolini’s support. Therefore, any plan to develop tourism could not go too far as long as the Francoist regime continued to cling to its policy of economic autarchy of the 1940s and the mid-1950s, and to avoid internal political reforms. In 1959, the Law of July 27, together with Decree No. 2320 from December 24, allowed foreign firms to invest in the Spanish economy. This new legal framework marked the beginning of the end of autarchy and opened the Spanish market to foreign capital.⁸⁴ As a result of this new legal framework, in 1968, the Governor of the Spanish Central Bank noted retrospectively that

A simple look at the statistics regarding the economic development of Spain in the past eight years shows an impressive improvement in the balance of payments. Due to this increase in revenues, we could afford to buy foreign consumer goods and technologies to meet the burgeoning needs of Spanish society. To sum up, we are moving from an economy of scarcity to an economic system that gradually opens to the outside world.… Needless to say, the 1959 plan of stabilization coincides with the development of international tourism in Spain.⁸⁵

Although international tourism became a clear priority in the mid-1950s, it was only after the loosening of the autarchic policies of the Spanish government that this sector started to develop fully. As this chapter makes clear, at the policy level the Spanish government’s view on tourism was rather similar to that of socialist Romania, which evolved from ideologically loaded tourism to a more commercially driven international tourism in the mid-1960s. This resemblance exemplifies how two countries in two different European peripheries with two opposite political regimes took advantage of the growth of the global phenomenon of international tourism. For both Romania and Spain, international tourism promised to deliver a sure path to economic development, which the two governments embraced despite their otherwise authoritarian domestic policies and their formal rejection of the more liberal values of the societies from which the tourists came.

The Institutional Organization of Tourism

For international tourism to develop in Romania and Spain, specific state institutions had to be established. Whereas in the early 1950s trade unions coordinated tourist activities in socialist Romania, by the mid-1950s a special department, the National Office for Tourism–Carpathians (ONT–Carpathians) was created within the Ministry of Commerce.⁸⁶ It was not until 1971 that a Ministry of Tourism was established.⁸⁷ In the mid-1950s, ONT–Carpathians “could sign agreements with foreign institutions and agencies, organize the arrival of foreign tourists to Romania, be in charge of all matters related to the arrival, staying, and departure of foreign tourists in Romania, as well as to organize the Romanian tourists’ trips abroad.”⁸⁸ This was one of the first institutional measures announcing the Romanian state’s interest in developing international tourism both to and from Romania. However, domestic tourism still remained under the authority of the General Working Confederation, newly renamed the National Council of Trade Unions.

The National Office for Tourism–Carpathians did not function well within the Ministry of Commerce. As a result, in 1959, it fell under the authority of the Union for Physical Culture and Sport. In addition to the old office’s responsibilities, a new one was added: to popularize Romania as a tourist destination abroad.⁸⁹ This affiliation with the Union for Physical Culture and Sport strongly suggests that the purpose of international tourism did not lie in the commercial realm and that the government still regarded tourism as a form of physical activity and a means of improving citizens’ health. But change was afoot, as the shifting definition of tourism and frequent reorganizations clearly indicate. In 1962, a reorganization of the ONT–Carpathians took place, and as a result it also became responsible for domestic tourism. As a consequence, the ONT–Carpathians was in charge of sending the “working people” to health and spa resorts as well as organizing domestic tourist activity.⁹⁰ But the most significant aspect of this reorganization was that it announced that henceforth tourism was a predominantly commercial activity. For this reason, ONT–Carpathians was transferred from the Union for Physical Culture and Sport to the Ministry of Exterior Commerce. The same decision gave ONT–Carpathians priority access to hotels, restaurants, and other tourist facilities, as well as to means of transportation for tourist purposes.⁹¹ Finally, the reform granted more autonomy and money to ONT–Carpathians to organize both international and domestic tourist activities. Nonetheless, it did not place tourist infrastructure (hotels, restaurants, and buses) in this institution’s hands.

In 1966, an internal report by the ONT–Carpathians underlined that international tourism could not properly function and flourish as long as the organization did not have control over the entire tourist infrastructure. The ONT–Carpathians’ complaint was that, although the organization of tourism was its responsibility, the tourist infrastructure operated under the authority of the Ministry of Interior Commerce.⁹² The ONT–Carpathians report stressed that, in order for international tourism to become successful in Romania (a promising 420 million leu in revenue from international tourism was projected for 1970), the organizational structure of tourism in Romania must change.⁹³ First of all, according to the report, ONT–Carpathians would need to coordinate both the arrival of tourists and the infrastructure of tourism. This measure would make ONT–Carpathians the sole institution responsible for both the development of tourism and possible setbacks. More than that, the reorganization of ONT–Carpathians promised to raise the economic efficiency of international tourism, ensure better training of tourist personnel, and help resolve any day-to-day inconsistencies that might occur between the accommodations and food services.⁹⁴

In 1967, the Central Committee of the Romanian Communist Party agreed that a change was necessary and approved the reorganization of ONT–Carpathians. Decree no. 32 of the Council of the State granted ONT–Carpathians full responsibility for “organizing, supervising, and coordinating tourist activities” in Romania.⁹⁵ That same decree charged ONT–Carpathians with elaborating long-term plans for the development of tourism and its infrastructure, as well as projecting its expected revenues. ONT–Carpathians could sign tourist agreements with foreign agencies, but because it directly administered accommodation and eating facilities, it also had to ensure that tourists received the services promised in their vouchers. ONT–Carpathians was empowered to organize trips abroad and within Romania for foreign tourists and to promote Romania as a tourist destination.⁹⁶ Because the institution was also responsible for domestic tourism, Decree no. 641 reconfirmed that Romanian citizens could choose to book their vacations with ONT–Carpathians if they wanted a higher degree of comfort than what the less expensive trade unions offered.⁹⁷ However, the primary responsibility of ONT–Carpathians was to cater to international tourists whose hard currency the Romanian government coveted.

A further step to streamline international tourism was the creation of the Ministry of Tourism in 1971, which reflected the economic and political maturity that this sector had reached. Derek Hall sees this decision as part of the Romanian state’s policy to strengthen connections with the West and to attract both Eastern and Western tourists.⁹⁸ The newly established Ministry of Tourism coordinated all tourist activities in socialist Romania. These activities were split between its branches: National Office for Tourism–Carpathians and National Office for Tourism–Littoral. ONT–Carpathians, based in Brașov and Bucharest, was in charge of domestic and international tourism in Transylvania, Northern Moldavia, and the mountain resorts, while ONT–Littoral coordinated tourism activity on the Black Sea Coast. This change reflected the strong emphasis that Romanian officials put on seaside tourism in the 1970s in an attempt to follow the example of established beach destinations, such as Yugoslavia and Spain. At the same time, the new institutional framework reflected the state’s efforts to decentralize the organization of tourism in socialist Romania.⁹⁹

In Spain, the institutional organization of tourism underwent a similar process. At the end of the civil war, Franco’s new government established a National Service for Tourism (Servicio Nacional de Turismo) within the Ministry of the Interior. The mission of the National Service was mainly to organize the so-called routes of war (las rutas de la guerra), which aimed to convey the Nationalist faction’s perspective of the civil war. Four such routes tracking Franco’s victories spanned Spain. The first one was called the northern route (la ruta de Guerra del Norte) and spanned 43 miles from Oviedo to Santander; the second route linked Pamplona with Barcelona; the third included Madrid; and the fourth covered Andalusia.¹⁰⁰ This program was opened mainly to economically well-to-do Spaniards, as it included only luxury hotels and facilities. There were a number of restrictions on the few foreign tourists allowed: they needed a passport and a visa to enter Spain, and they could not take photos during their trips. The program was far from being a success; for example, in the first such trip, only four tourists enrolled: three Catholic priests and one French leftist journalist who wanted to document the war.¹⁰¹

After the Francoist victory in 1939, tourism fell under the administration of the General Directorate of Tourism (DGT). This new structure was part of the Ministry of the Interior; its main role was to represent “the tourist interests of the Nation” as well as “to inform the public in Spain and abroad about travel possibilities, hotels, monuments, and holidays.”¹⁰² However, the institution was a hollow one, as Spain closed its borders to all foreigners except Germans and Italians, and the main bulk of tourist and transportation infrastructure had been destroyed during the war. For instance, the Ritz, the oldest and the most luxurious hotel in Madrid before the civil war, had neither electricity nor running water and was infested with cockroaches.¹⁰³ On top of this, the new head of the General Tourist Department, Louis Bolín, was a former journalist whose only merit was his loyalty to Franco; he had very little experience with tourism.

Besides the General Tourist Department, which was supposed to organize tourism activities in Franco’s Spain, another institution charged with coordinating the tourism sector was the Trade Union of National Tourist Workers (Sindicato Nacional de Hostelería). Established in 1942, this institution was a state-controlled agency that coordinated and controlled the relationship between the government and the private tourism sector. The National Trade Union of Tourist Workers split the tourist industry into three branches: hotels, restaurants, and cafés. At the local level it established a coordinating structure (basically a provincial delegate with a small office) in charge of all three activities. The provincial delegate had to make sure that the trade union’s dispositions were properly implemented. He was supposed to pass the proposals and requests of the owners and employees of tourist on to the central agency. Because it lacked an understanding of the extent of the tourist industry, the Trade Union of Tourist Workers made an inventory of all tourist establishments to assert its control.¹⁰⁴ Nevertheless, for the reasons discussed above, tourism was not a thriving industry in the 1940s.

As tourism became more popular in postwar Europe and the United States, Spain started to look like an attractive tourist destination due to its long Mediterranean coastline. However, Spain’s organization and infrastructure of tourism, as well as its economic autarchy, were clear obstacles to the development of tourism. Besides offering economic aid to Spain, the 1950 and 1951 economic agreements with the United States also forced an opening of the tourist sector. As a result, in 1951, a Ministry of Information and Tourism was established in Spain. However, as noted earlier, the new ministry was less concerned with the development of tourism than it was with propaganda and censorship. Indeed, tourism was but one of the six departments that comprised the new ministry; the others were the press, information, radio, cinema, and theater.¹⁰⁵ Gabriel Arias Salgado, a politician close to the Falangists and Franco, became the head of the new institution. Manuel Fraga, the future minister of tourism, described Salgado as having little interest in developing tourism: “He had received the addition of tourism to his ministry without enthusiasm; in the official correspondence, he only mentioned ‘ministry of information.’ ”¹⁰⁶ The World Bank’s 1952 report confirmed this assertion and stressed that the Ministry of Information and Tourism in Spain “did not attend to tourists, but had other responsibilities and concerns.”¹⁰⁷ Under Salgado, the central role of the new ministry was to strictly control the flow of information and to prevent inappropriate foreign influences from reaching the Spanish public.¹⁰⁸

Only in 1958 did the General Directorate of Tourism (DGT), the Ministry of Information and Tourism structure devoted to tourism, develop a sustained development plan. Its reorganization in August 1958 announced the Spanish government’s turn toward a more pragmatic view of tourism.¹⁰⁹ The Decree of August 8, 1958 dictated that the DGT be composed of a general secretary, a technical secretary, and six distinct departments: Foreign Service, Private Tourist Activities, Hotels and Restaurants, Propaganda and Publications, Information and Documentation, and Inspections and Reclamations.¹¹⁰ In addition, the DGT coordinated the newly formed Spanish Tourist Administration (ATE) and the Póliza del Seguro (Insurance Policy Agency).¹¹¹ The ATE was in charge of the state tourist network and sports establishments open to tourists, while the Insurance Policy Agency had to ensure that tourists bought travel insurance when crossing the border.¹¹² The prominence of the foreign service department at the forefront of the DGT showed the Spanish state’s increased interest in welcoming foreign tourists. However, the fact that advertising was still seen as a form of propaganda indicates that the ideological dimension of tourism had not entirely disappeared.

From an economic point of view, 1956, 1957, and 1958 were dire years for Spain. Inflation rose and the balance of payments declined. Moreover, in 1956, the first major post–civil-war strike challenged the political and economic structure of Francoism.¹¹³ In response, the government attempted to secure a loan from the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank. In 1958, it submitted a thorough report detailing the economic situation of Spain and plans for reform to the World Bank. Only months later did the economic reform project (ordenación económica) turn into the Plan for Economic and Social Stabilization of 1959. This plan aimed at “lining up the Spanish economy with the economies of the Western European countries.”¹¹⁴

This new economic and political approach did not arise in isolation. Rather, it resulted from the ascension of economic technocrats to government posts in the late 1950s, some of whom were members of Opus Dei, a Catholic reformist group within the Spanish government. This group increasingly challenged the more nationalist and militaristic Falange, and the need for change took on a more serious character.¹¹⁵ Nevertheless, the adherents of Opus Dei were not themselves full supporters of international tourism, which they regarded as a threat to Spanish social and moral values.¹¹⁶ Also, their friendship with Spanish industrialists convinced them that Spain’s prosperity lay in the advent of heavy industry rather than an unpredictable revenue from tourism. In 1962, Opus Dei was, however, responsible for replacing the Falangist Arias Salgado with the more open-minded and reformist Manuel Fraga as the head of the Ministry of Information and Tourism. The appointment of Fraga made a significant difference in the development of tourism in Spain and allowed for the gradual liberalization of this sector. The thirty-nine-year-old minister of tourism was driven more by his wish to pursue a career in politics rather than his allegiance to Caudillo Franco.¹¹⁷ Fraga came of age after the civil war and, although a conservative, he was convinced that Spain’s future was in the budding European Economic Community.¹¹⁸ To a certain degree, as Justin Crumbaugh has put it, the embracing of tourism as both an ideology and a governmental policy opened the way not only to a normalization of Spain’s relations with Western European countries, but also to domestic liberalization and “political stability at home,” a hallmark of the 1960s.¹¹⁹

A Political and Social Tool

Both socialist Romania and Francoist Spain underwent similar processes, as each gradually shifted from domestic to international tourism and from (im)mobilities to mobilities. In the 1940s and early 1950s, social and nationalist discourses shaped the role of the specific institutions that dealt with tourism in each country. However, in the late 1950s and early 1960s, those institutions were reshaped in order to meet the more commercial and internationalist goals of the two governments. In both socialist Romania and Francoist Spain, the initial impulse came from outside. In the Romanian case, it was the tourist meeting of the socialist countries in Moscow in 1961, while in Spain, as we shall see, the interest of British and American tourists forced the opening of tourism, especially in the coastal areas.

The two countries also shared similar reasons for developing international tourism. Both socialist Romania and Francoist Spain wanted to develop international tourism to acquire hard currencies, particularly US dollars and Deutsche Marks, and improve their external image. Nevertheless, both governments initially regarded tourism as a political and social tool; only later (in Spain in the mid-1950s and in Romania in the early 1960s) did the two countries focus on the economic dimension of tourism. Thus, tourism evolved from an economic branch that was supposed to help grow more critical sectors, such as metallurgy and construction, to an economic sector in its own right. This gradual process did not happen in a void but amid the economic and political liberalization in both countries beginning in the late 1950s.