What began in the mid-1980s as a commitment to “try our luck for a year” has become, four decades later, the foundation of Gernika-Lumo's memory. That first meeting between teachers Alberto Iturriarte, Vicente del Palacio, Jabi Urrutia, and Alberto Zarrabeitia was born with the intention of understanding their immediate surroundings, but it has ended up reconstructing the identity of a town that the 1937 bombing by the German Condor Legion left without a documented past. Today, the members of Gernikazarra History Group celebrate forty years of selfless work, demonstrating that silence was not the only possible response after the disaster.

This concern arose, precisely, from a contradiction that the founders detected in their own classrooms. After a conversation with archaeologist Luis Valdés at the Gastiburu excavations, they realized that, beyond general content, the past of their own locality remained largely unknown. From then on, it was clear to them: they had to start investigating “our own.” The challenge, however, was not simple, as the bombing not only killed people but also vaporized centuries of bureaucracy. With the municipal, ecclesiastical, and notarial archives burned, Gernika had become a town without documents.

Faced with this void, the group gradually gained strength, and what began as a team of four transformed into a “close-knit family.” From 1990 onwards, figures such as Juanan Carballo, José Ángel Etxaniz “Txato”, José Luis Gavira, and Toribio Beares joined the initial core; a growth to which other collaborators also contributed, who, although they left the group for various reasons, were essential for its consolidation. This sum of contributions, together with the complicity of the current eight members, has been the driving force behind the project. After decades of sharing personal experiences, they have solidified a trajectory marked by friendship.

This foundation has allowed them to develop continuous research work that has led them to trace civil and military archives throughout the State. From the beginning, the 1937 bombing was the main focus of their work, although over time they broadened their scope to other areas of local history. If in their early days only “two lines” were dedicated to Gernika in history textbooks, Gernikazarra has helped reverse this void by giving greater solidity to local memory. Their archive has thus become a reference point for researchers, also internationally, with materials of very diverse nature: from the identification with names and surnames of more than 150 victims of the bombing to the preservation of collections such as the more than 8,000 files from the Astra-Unceta y Cía factory. This sustained work earned them the Gernika Peace and Reconciliation Award in 2011.

This journey has also resulted in the recovery of other key episodes and figures in local history. They have rescued names such as that of Mayor José de Labauria or the founder of the town, Don Tello, even managing to transfer his catafalque from Palencia on the occasion of the 650th anniversary. In addition, they guard the largest photographic collection in the town, with thousands of images documenting life before and after the war. A work that has allowed Gernika to largely cease being a town without a past.

But Gernikazarra has not limited itself to research; it has also dedicated its efforts to dissemination through books, talks, and exhibitions, many of them in collaboration with local volunteers. This work has also been reflected in the organization of tributes linked to the bombing or in the recovery of local anniversaries, initiatives that over time have gained presence in the local institutional agenda.

This evolution has led to a “small divergence” in the relationship with the Foral Council, inasmuch as both parties have ended up developing parallel events. “Initially we worked together, but over time each has gone their own way,” explain members of the group, who acknowledge that the situation is managed “as best as possible.” Nevertheless, the members emphasize coordination and propose the convenience of opening a dialogue table with the council to articulate a common program. “The best thing would be to sit down and organize it together,” they point out.

Far from stopping, the eight members of Gernikazarra are already working on the 90th anniversary of the bombing, scheduled for 2027. Their new line of research delves into a dark period plagued by “considerable gaps” spanning from 1937 to 1945. This is the era of the crudest survival, hunger, and reconstruction on the ruins, a time when it is interesting to investigate how families survived without housing or how factories maintained production among the rubble. “We want to investigate a stage from which hardly any documentation is preserved,” they explain, with the aim of understanding “how the town gets ahead and how it manages to survive so much misery.”

Despite the accumulated prestige and the fact that their archive is consulted by academics from different countries, the group faces the future with a realistic concern: the lack of generational replacement. The diagnosis of the members is clear and somewhat bitter. “Nowadays people come to ask for help with their theses or to look for data on an ancestor, but no one comes with the intention of joining to work without profit,” they lament. They warn that, if new blood does not arrive, the collective could be condemned to disappear over time.

Despite this, Gernikazarra maintains intact the idea that drove its birth: to recover the history of Gernika-Lumo. A discreet work, sustained for 40 years, which has allowed the reconstruction of part of a past that was on the verge of disappearing and which, even today, continues to offer new questions.