A political row has erupted in Barcelona’s City Council over the name of one of its most iconic central streets, Carrer de Ferran, forcing the city to confront the lingering legacy of a 19th-century absolutist monarch.
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A dispute centres on whether the street’s current name echoes its original dedication to King Ferdinand VII, or if it has since been “resignified” into a neutral, anonymous name. The pro-independence party Junts per Catalunya has formally proposed renaming the thoroughfare to honour Joan Fiveller, a celebrated 15th-century Catalan figure, but Mayor Jaume Collboni has firmly rejected the move, sparking a debate over history, memory, and municipal bureaucracy.
A Street Steeped in History
Carrer de Ferran, which slices through the heart of the Ciutat Vella district connecting La Rambla to Plaça Sant Jaume, has a history as turbulent as its name. According to the historian Cirici Pellicer, the street was carved out of the city’s medieval labyrinth in 1824 and named Fernando VII after the reigning monarch of the time. Ferdinand VII was Spain’s last absolutist king, notorious for revoking the liberal constitution of 1812.
In 1910, the city council stripped the royal numeral, changing the name to simply “Ferran.” This historical nuance underpins the mayor’s current position. During the Second Spanish Republic, the street was renamed in 1931 to honour Joan Fiveller, a revered member of the medieval Consell de Cent (Council of One Hundred). Fiveller, famed for forcing a visiting king to pay city taxes, symbolised the principle that all are subject to the law. After the Civil War, the Francoist regime reverted the name to Ferran (or Fernando in Spanish), yet notably did not restore the royal “VII.”
The Political Standoff
Junts has seized on this monarchical origin, demanding a change. At a recent council meeting, Junts councillor Joan Rodríguez questioned the mayor’s defence of the current name. He challenged, “If this Ferran is nobody, tell me why the Franco regime restored this name. And if he is nobody, what is the problem with changing it?”
The party argues Fiveller represents values directly opposed to Ferdinand VII’s absolutism. Their proposal states Fiveller’s name reinforces “a Barcelonian concept according to which everyone, even the king, is subject to the law.”
Mayor Collboni, however, maintains the name was officially stripped of its royalist connotations over a century ago. “The street was resignified many years ago. Not even during the dictatorship was the previous name recovered,” the mayor stated. He argued the 1910 decision was made “precisely to stop remembering the last absolutist monarch,” a sentiment echoed by municipal sources speaking to Tot Barcelona.
“The street of Ferran is part of the popular memory, like Princesa or Pelai,” Collboni concluded, suggesting the name is now too ingrained in the city’s identity to be altered.
Bureaucracy or Excuse?
The mayor’s office also cited administrative policy, stating name changes are reserved for cases that violate the Law of Democratic Memory or are driven by local residents’ requests. Furthermore, Collboni pointed to a desire to avoid “duplications” in the city’s street-naming system, noting a Plaça de Joan Fiveller already exists in front of the Catalan Parliament in the Parc de la Ciutadella.
Junts dismissed this as an excuse. “If we talk about duplications, we also have Bacardí, Sabrià, Espriu…” Rodríguez countered, listing other figures whose names appear on multiple streets or squares.
David Martínez, a journalist and author of the blog Històries de Barcelona, shares this view. He noted, “The square is inside the Ciutadella park itself, which is not a residential area,” implying a low risk of confusion. Martínez describes Carrer de Ferran as a “constant political battlefield,” recalling its many name changes, which also included a period honouring General Espartero, Duke of the Victory.
The street’s creation itself was a stark exercise in power. Martínez explains it was one of the city’s first “esventraments” (gutting operations), where rows of houses were demolished to create a wide, straight artery. “This connected the Ciutadella, which at that time was a military fortress, with La Rambla,” he said, adding, “It is often said that it was done so that troops could quickly reach the city centre.”
Once a grand promenade for the city’s elite, lined with confectioners, armourers, and luxury shirt-makers, Carrer de Ferran’s commercial lustre faded when the bourgeoisie migrated to areas like Passeig de Gràcia. Today, as the street navigates the pressures of mass tourism, its very name has become the latest chapter in its long and contested history.
