The Palacio d'Oriente, historically the residence of Spanish monarchs, stretches ominously across a high bluff overlooking Madrid. A museum currently occupies its 2800 rooms, with the main hall used for an occasional state dinner. But King Juan Carlos prefers to live in a compact 20-room estate on the outskirts of the capital.

The home address of Spain's 17th reigning sovereign is no small matter. By avoiding the castle last occupied by his grandfather Alfonxo XIII in 1931, Juan Carlos Alfonso Victor Maria de Borbon y Borbon is sending a signal of solidarity with his countrymen's longing for self rule.

But the king's home is only one of many symbols propitious for Spanish democracy.

Whether by fortunate accident or grand design, Juan Carlos, today's Harvard Commencement speaker, has guided his nation away from its reaction past to a fragile democracy. And it has happened in the eight and a half years since he ascended the throne. It is a Cinderella story, with happily ever after for the Spanish people at stake.

The 46-year-old monarch's ugly stepmother was the tradition of 36 years of jackboot authoritarianism under General Francisco Franco. Competing for the nation's attentions were two ugly stepsisters--the anachronistic force of the Right and extremists of the Left who hoped to rush the process.

Using the powers available only to El Caudillo's chosen successor, Juan Carlos moved cautiously by approaching the moderates of Spain. He slowly replaced Franco's highest appointees with what he called "the civilized right." He invited leaders of the outlawed Communist and Socialist parties to dinner. Assistant Professor of Government Terry Karl, a specialist in that process, says. "It's rare to find a figure that commands that kind of respect who will throw his weight behind the democratic transition."

By December 1978 the King felt free to sign a new constitution. Four months later, Spain held its first free elections in over 40 years, with 9000 candidates representing 27 political groups.

What Juan Carlos retained in the new constitution was his title as supreme commander of the armed forces. It is in this role that the monarch has proven his mettle as leader. He referees the sparring between the civilian government and the military, which at once represents tradition to the Right and constitutional stability to the Left.

Aborted Coup

His officers did not wholeheartedly accept the strikes and social reforms that accompanied pluralism. On February 23, 1981, some of them tried to crush the glass-slipper state with a military coup. They claimed the backing of the sovereign. Juan Carlos took to national television to denounce their power play and rally his own faction.

"At that moment, the only institution that could stop the military was the king," says Luis Riera, a Spanish business professor, currently a visiting scholar at the Center for International Affairs. "So he did," Karl says his moves "disarmed and delegitimized [the Right] in the military," demonstrating a "strong commitment to the new rules of the game."

Smith Professor of the French and Spanish Languages Juan Marichal notes that the abortive coup underscored the link between the crown and the new democracy. "The people in the army who wanted to turn back the clock knew that they couldn't do it without killing the king." He adds that the monarch's response made clear that "loyalty to him is loyalty to the constitution."

Since 1981, the association between the monarchy and continued stability has grown, fueled by the rise in Juan Carlos's personal popularity. "To have a traditional institution that people can look at as a connection of the past to this changing present is important," says Karl. She notes that of other nations that had not made the transition to democracy smoothly. "Nobody else has a king; nobody else can play that role."

Juan Carlos plays it to a tee. In a fireside chat last Christmas Eve, he warned his countrymen of the danger of pessimism.

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