Spanish Civil War

It was a war that fueled passion and anger like almost no other, spurring thousands from all around the globe to come and fight for their ideals. But instead of weapons, many used pens and typewriters. Spain's Cervantes Institute has captured a unique period in modern history by organizing a traveling exhibition commemorating the 70th anniversary of the start of the country's three-year Civil War.

SO IS IT A CIVIL WAR in Iraq or isn't it? By the straightforward definition -- a war fought between factions or regions within a single nation -- the answer seems clearly to be yes. That's why NBC and the Los Angeles Times recently decided to use the phrase to describe the ongoing sectarian conflict. It's a "fairly simple call," said the foreign editor of The Times. But not everybody agrees.

George Sossenko was a 16-year-old boy in Paris when he left a note for his mother and ran off to fight in the Spanish Civil War. "I know this will cause you pain," he wrote, "but the future of the world is being played out in Spain." Sossenko and about 35 of his former comrades in arms came together in Madrid on Monday to mark the 70th anniversary of the start of the war triggered when Gen. Francisco Franco rebelled against Spain's elected government.

Seven priests and a nun who were killed during the Spanish Civil War were beatified as martyrs at a Mass in St. Peter's Basilica, praised for having refused to betray their faith when faced with death. All eight were killed in 1936, in the opening days of Spain's civil war. The Roman Catholic Church says 4,184 clergy members were killed by government forces during the war.

Re "A History of Flawed Teaching," by Sam Wineburg, Commentary, Feb. 24: Having recently retired after teaching political science to undergraduates at a local college, I do have some perspective on the teaching of history. Political science you say? Yes, political science. Political science and history are so intertwined that, as the song says, "You can't have one without the other." My wife recently retired after teaching high school English. She taught Irish literature. Can that be taught without also teaching the Great Famine?

In 1939, when the dictator Francisco Franco declared an end to the Spanish Civil War, tens of thousands of refugees walked north over the Pyrenees, seeking shelter in France. They expected to be welcomed as defenders of democracy; instead many were forced into camps. A year later, the tide had turned, and refugees from the Third Reich and the Vichy regime began trickling from France into Spain, seeking passage out of Europe via Spanish or Portuguese ports.

The great city of Barcelona in northeast Spain, its ancient and still heavily trafficked port looking out over the Mediterranean, sees thousands of tourists every summer. They admire the Roman remains and the medieval fortifications. They stroll along the Ramblas, a charming tree-lined avenue with stalls selling everything from flowers to tame songbirds. They shop in the fashionable boutiques, visit the art galleries, sample Catalonian cuisine, swim and sunbathe.

It is difficult to give "Soldiers of Salamis" by Javier Cercas the serious attention it deserves without making the novel sound ponderous and unappealing. This is a shame. The book is funny and gripping and also a tear-jerker in the best sense of the word. I laughed and cried while reading it, even though I didn't quite fall in love. The key to the novel's charm (and it is charming) is that it works on so many levels.

As Secretary of State Colin L. Powell presented evidence to help U.N. ambassadors decide whether or not to go to war against Iraq, there was one important thing they did not see: Pablo Picasso's "Guernica." A tapestry version of one of the world's greatest antiwar works that adorns the wall outside the Security Council chamber was covered Wednesday by a blue curtain with U.N. logos. A U.N. commentary on war and peace? ambassadors wondered. Trying to avert a diplomatic incident, the U.N.