The father of the current king of Spain, who was also a king of Spain, always advised his son not to write memoirs, as kings don’t confess, especially not in public. However, the father of the king did not heed this advice and now feels that his story is being stolen from him, prompting him to want to confess. Despite the Borbon tradition of not confessing, the ex-king is determined to tell his story, which will be published by a French publisher in 2025. This story begins in Bolivia over fifty years ago where languages and destinies intertwine.
In 1967, a young Frenchman named Régis Debray, with the pedigree of a privileged upbringing in Paris, was arrested in a remote Bolivian village along with an Argentine companion by local Green Berets and CIA officials. Debray, a communist who advocated for guerrilla warfare as a means to socialism, had trained in the Bolivian jungle with Che Guevara before being captured. The circumstances of his capture and the role he played in Guevara’s downfall remain controversial, with conflicting accounts of his actions. Debray was ultimately sentenced to 30 years in prison but was released in 1970 as part of a political negotiation.
Following his release, Debray became a prominent figure on the left, forming connections with figures such as Salvador Allende and Pablo Neruda. He continued his activism, even participating in the attempted capture of Nazi war criminal Klaus Barbie in Bolivia. Debray’s personal life was also eventful, marrying a Venezuelan anthropologist while in prison and raising a daughter amidst the tumult of political activism. His daughter Laurence, despite a privileged upbringing, struggled to come to terms with her family’s past, only learning the full extent of it as a child when she faced scorn from her peers.
Laurence Debray pursued a career in economics, working on Wall Street and marrying into a prominent French political family. She later wrote a biography of King Juan Carlos of Spain, whom she admired greatly. However, her subsequent book, “Hija de revolucionarios,” was a critical reflection on her parents’ revolutionary fervor and her own struggles to reconcile their legacy. Despite her differences with her parents, Laurence remained close to her father as he explored his own past through memoirs, ultimately becoming his ghostwriter and confidante in shaping his narrative.
The decision of the former king of Spain to publish his memoirs in French through the help of his daughter is likely to spark nationalist reactions. The choice to have his story told by a Frenchwoman who changed fathers – a failed king is more chic and reassuring than a failed revolutionary – adds an intriguing layer to the unfolding tale of personal and political legacies. Despite the controversy surrounding the publication, the collaboration between father and daughter reveals a complex interplay between personal history, loyalty, and the passage of time.
