The narrative about the alleged systematic plot of “stolen babies” in Spain during the Francoist period—turned into a widely disseminated story for years—has taken a significant turn following the publication of a report from the National Institute of Toxicology and Forensic Sciences (INTCF), whose results have been covered by media outlets such as El País and Cadena SER, which now question the existence of said network to which they gave voice for a long time.
The study, prepared by five specialists from the INTCF and published in an international scientific journal, concludes that there is no forensic evidence to support the hypothesis of an organized and widespread theft of newborns in Spanish hospitals.
A report that questions a historical narrative
According to the researchers, the available data “question the widespread narrative of a systematic theft” and reject what they describe as a “conjecture turned into a hoax” surrounding the 300,000 alleged cases of stolen babies in Spain.
Specifically, DNA analyses performed on exhumed remains and hospital samples have confirmed, in the majority of the cases investigated, the death of the newborns. Of the 120 exhumations analyzed, human remains were found in 117, while in the remaining cases there were biological indications compatible with the decomposition of a body.
The specialists themselves emphasize that an apparently empty coffin does not necessarily imply a theft, but can be explained by the degradation of the remains over time.
Three distinct realities under the same label
The report distinguishes between three different phenomena that for years have been grouped under the same narrative: minors under guardianship after the Civil War, adoptions of children of single mothers in institutions such as the Patronato de Protección de la Mujer, and the alleged existence of an organized network of baby thefts in hospitals between 1950 and 1990.
It is precisely this last hypothesis—the one of a systematic plot—that the researchers discard in light of the available scientific data.
A narrative that pointed to the Church
For years, this narrative not only spoke of a widespread phenomenon, but directly pointed to institutions linked to the Church, especially religious congregations and hospital centers, as part of an alleged network of child abductions during Francoism.
Specific cases, such as that of the nun sor María Gómez Valbuena, were widely disseminated and contributed to consolidating in public opinion the idea of a structural involvement of the Church in these events. At the same time, affected associations and various platforms insisted on the existence of an organized network in which religious figures and healthcare personnel would have participated.
In that context, the Church maintained a prudent position, limiting itself to offering collaboration with the Justice system and with families in the investigated cases, without assuming the existence of an organized plot. This attitude was interpreted by some sectors as a lack of response or silence in the face of the accusations.
However, neither judicial investigations nor forensic reports have accredited the existence of a systematic structure of child abductions linked to ecclesiastical institutions. The available data point, rather, to complex situations of irregular adoptions in determined social and cultural contexts, which cannot be equated to the existence of an organized network.
From the media narrative to its revision
The shift in focus is especially significant because it affects media outlets that for years contributed to consolidating that narrative in public opinion. The figure of 300,000 cases, repeated for more than a decade, ended up becoming an assumed reality, despite the absence of conclusive evidence.
Pedro Fernández Barbadillo, in Ideas, has analyzed this process by pointing out that many of these figures “were invented in meetings to craft a narrative,” in reference to the origin of estimates that were later disseminated without empirical support.
Barbadillo also emphasizes that the phenomenon gained public dimension from legal and media initiatives that generated a multiplier effect: “that collective complaint opened the door to an avalanche of cases,” in many of which suspicions arose years later, fueled by media coverage.
In this sense, he also recalls the early warnings from prosecutors, who as early as 2013 were alerting to a “call effect” and complaints filed “by contagion,” in a context in which the hypothesis of an organized plot found no support in the investigations.
In light of the new INTCF report, the contrast between the narrative disseminated for years and the current scientific conclusions is evident, opening a revision of a story that for a long time was presented as unquestionable.
Investigations without evidence of an organized network
Judicial investigations have also not confirmed the existence of a systematic plot. The Prosecutor’s Office has analyzed more than 2,000 complaints, of which more than 500 were brought to trial, without any sentence accrediting the organized theft of babies in Spain.
Cases that reached great media repercussion were later discarded through DNA tests. In others, such as that of Inés Madrigal—presented for years as emblematic—it was finally confirmed that it was an irregular adoption and not a theft.
Experts also warn of the impact that certain narratives have had on families who, after the loss of a child, came to suspect a possible theft without proven basis.
A debate with consequences beyond the judicial
The new report thus introduces an element of revision in a matter that has had a notable weight in the political, media, and legislative debate in Spain.
The case highlights to what extent certain facts, not yet verified, can be amplified and reinterpreted until they become assumed truths when they fit into pre-existing ideological frameworks. Media repetition, combined with figures without empirical basis, ended up shaping a narrative that, for years, also served to persistently point to institutions linked to the Church.
The revision that is beginning to open thus invites a broader reflection on the use of these narratives in public debate and on the responsibility of those who disseminated them. When interpretation precedes the facts, the risk is not only error, but the consolidation of accusations that, over time, prove difficult to sustain in light of the data.