Septicentennial for a Ministate

Problems and prosperity in a landlocked principality

Amidst cries of "Long live Andorra!" many of the 8,000 natives of the landlocked principality in the Pyrenees converged upon their capital last week. The occasion: their country's 700th birthday. While the blue, yellow and red national flag waved from bunting-bedecked windows and balconies, citizens crowded into the ancient Plaza of the Prince of Benlloch to hail the arrival of Andorra's two sovereign Princes. It was their first meeting ever on Andorran soil, and a cordial though somewhat subdued salute was given Andorra's rulers by the local militia. They fired powder-loaded hunting rifles, since the country has no standing army and hence no cannons.

The principal actors in that anachronistic tableau, Andorra's co-Princes, are France's President Valery Giscard d'Estaing and the Spanish Bishop of Urgel, Joan Marti Alanis. Their co-sovereignty over Andorra dates back to 1278, when their predecessors, the Count de Foix and the Urgel bishop, settled a dispute over who owned the 190 sq. mi. territory by agreeing to rule it in tandem. The Spanish title of co-Prince was handed down in a direct line to the present bishop, while on the French side it passed to the Kings of Navarre, then to Napoleon, and ultimately to Presidents of the French republic. Andorrans annually pay token tribute to their co-Princes. In even-numbered years the bishop gets $12, plus six hams, six chickens and six cheeses. In odd-numbered years the French President gets $460, but no victuals.

In a speech in the plaza before the festivities, Giscard sounded more like a modern politician soliciting votes than a feudal Prince seeking tribute. He held out the promise of a new French-and Andorran-financed highway to be cut through the mountain passes between the two countries. He also spoke earnestly, though vaguely, of the need to "create conditions for more effective management and responsible participation of the Andorran people in the affairs of their country." That raised hopes among Andorrans that their co-Princes may ultimately be willing to grant them more self-rule. Andorrans point with pride to the fact that their 559-year-old parliament is one of the oldest in Europe, and they increasingly resent the power the co-Princes' official delegates in Andorra have over their affairs.

Andorra's most compelling problems, however, spring from too rapid modernization and runaway growth. For centuries, the principality's hardy Catalan-speaking mountaineers tended their sheep and their meager crops in peaceful isolation from the wars and social turmoil that shaped the rest of Europe. Change came swiftly when Andorra established itself in the mid-'60s as a major duty-free area offering such irresistible bargains as gasoline and Chivas Regal at a fraction of their prices in Paris or Madrid.

Thus lured, thousands of foreign tourists now set out for Andorra every weekend, causing monumental traffic jams along the narrow winding roads that lead to the tax haven. Once picturesque towns and villages have been despoiled by advertising. Posters of Johnnie Walker and the Marlboro man adorn the walls of roadside buildings, and billboards displaying the Ron Negrita girl under a palm tree contrast improbably with the splen did white peaks of the Pyrenees beyond. Cutting through the capital city is a gaudy strip of neon, glass and concrete, featuring gilt-balconied hotels, high-rise department stores and a six-story cemetery with burial vaults and showcases of floral tributes stacked atop one another.

The boom has brought record prosperity to Andorrans, but it has also attracted an unwelcome influx of foreigners eager to cash in. Many native Andorrans feel that their identity is threatened by the 16,000 Spanish and 2,000 French residents of the principality. Attempts to strictly limit immigration and discourage foreign speculators have failed. A law prohibiting Andorrans from selling their land to outsiders has been circumvented by socalled prete-noms (name lenders), who lease their surnames to foreigners for use in property sales.

Despite these grievances against their giant neighbors to the north and south, Andorrans are unlikely to seek complete independence as they enter their 8th century as subjects of the co-Princes. Said one Andorran shopkeeper last week: "It's as it says in our national anthem: 'Faithful and free I wish to live, with my Princes as my protectors.'"

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.