An angry row has broken out over the Madrid location of one of Robert Capa’s most important photographs Robert Capa

HeyOne winter’s day nearly 90 years ago, Hungarian-American photojournalist Robert Capa stopped on a street in southeastern Madrid to capture an image that would resonate around the world and down the decades.

In the photo, three children sit on a sidewalk filled with rubble in the working-class Vallecas area of ​​the Spanish capital. Behind them lies a simple one-storey house, exposed to shrapnel from a fresh air strike.

The image that appeared in the world press not only underscored the civilian cost of the air campaign launched by Nazi Germany and Italy under Mussolini in support of Francisco Franco’s coup, but it also mobilized international volunteers to support the anti-fascist cause.

But in recent years, the photo, taken in late 1936, has found itself at the forefront of a campaign to rehouse the 21st-century families who lived in the cramped, squalid confines of 10 Pironcelli Street, and to preserve the building as a place of historical memory.

While long-time tenants have been moved to better accommodation, Madrid’s conservative city council has now abandoned plans by its leftist predecessor to turn the site into a space to commemorate Capa’s actions and the horror of bombing in the Spanish Civil War.

Instead of creating a standalone Capa Museum, the council decided to turn the property into a youth center — scheduled to open in 2028 as the Robert Capa Center for Cultural Experiences — which will contain a small space dedicated to the history of the building and the photographer’s role in it.

In doing so, it will sideline the local Save Peironcely 10 platform that has fought for years to rehouse the families and secure the building’s preservation, and instead hand the project over to a local youth organisation, the José María de Llanos Foundation.

This turn left activists confused and angry.

José María Urrea of ​​the trade union Fundación Anastasio de Gracia, who coordinated the platform’s efforts to save the building and rehouse its tenants, attributes the rethink to the current leadership in the city’s culture department.

“They are behaving somewhat mysteriously,” he said. “They did it without talking to anyone, and we are all very surprised to see them behaving this way… They were so careful about it before, and then this 180-degree turn happened, which also clearly indicates a kind of obfuscation when it comes to the city issue. [historical] memory.”

The International Center of Photography (ICP), which serves as custodian of Capa’s legacy, objects so strongly to the new plans that it is threatening to refuse to allow the photographer’s name to be used in connection with the new project.

In a letter sent to the City Council last week, ICP expressed its continued support for the efforts and accomplishments of the Save Peironcely 10 platform.

“While we deeply respect the value of social work, Peroncelli 10 is an irreplaceable site of global historical significance,” she said.[We] Will not authorize, endorse or permit the use of Robert Capa’s name, image or photographic heritage for any center, exhibition or project located at Peironcely 10 that is not managed, approved or managed in full agreement with the Save Peironcely 10 platform.

As a result, the letter continued, “any attempt to link Robert Capa’s name to this new municipal plan will lack international support and institutional legitimacy.”

Sharing the ICP’s position is the Capa House Museum in Leipzig, Germany, which was created on the site of another of the photographer’s most famous photographs, which he hoped to twin with the Madrid site.

“This house in Madrid could be the crown jewel of work for peace and international cooperation,” she said in a separate letter to the council. “This is impossible anywhere else in Madrid, as Robert Capa took the iconic and world-famous photo of the three war-scarred girls in front of the house at 10 Peronsley in this very place.”

The council said it was receiving legal advice on whether or not to retain Capa’s name, but insisted it would always respect the photographer’s legacy. She also said the purpose of the proposed new center is more important than its name.

“The new space aims to become a center for cultural experiences, especially for children and youth at risk of social exclusion, and to provide them with tools to develop their creative abilities and use culture as a means of integration, learning and opportunities,” she said in a statement.

“The center will also include a space dedicated to the memory and historical context of the building, which was the setting for a photograph taken by Robert Capa during the Spanish Civil War, depicting three children affected by the ravages of the conflict.”

Save Peironcely 10 described the new plan as a political “gambit” that would undermine “a decade of community, academic and international work to establish the Robert Capa Center for Interpreting the Madrid Airstrikes.” She added that the lack of a suitable memorial site would dash hopes of bringing tourist and visitor revenue to a still-deprived neighborhood.

As a compromise, the platform said that the center, in its originally envisioned form, could be placed under the auspices of the Municipal History Museum of Madrid. She also proposed collaborating with the José María de Llanos Foundation to help her find a different location for her “essential work” so that both projects could move forward independently.

“The platform has already demonstrated its social commitment by securing dignified rehousing for 14 vulnerable families who were living in squalid conditions in the building,” she said. “Valecas needs the José María de Llanos Foundation, but there is only one Peroncelli 10 Foundation in the world. We will not allow a social organization to be used as an excuse to destroy this unique opportunity.”

Meanwhile, Uriah still hopes that the Council will change its mind and return to the plan that he and many others fought for so hard and for so long. While Capa’s portrait ended up being displayed in the Reina Sofia Museum, such tributes are still far from the humble home that immortalized him nine decades ago.

“We’re not asking for a huge budget,” Urrea said. “Just a little willpower.”