by Br. Alexis Bugnolo
What I write here, in part I, I write as a citizen journalist, and I claim all the rights of free-speech in journalistic endeavors, to publish the following facts and observations at my own electronic journal, FromRome.info, in the United States of America. I alone hold copyright for all images, video and text contained herein. Part II can be found here.
I will now recount the horrific ordeal which burst upon me on August 18, 2022 A. D., when I went the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostella, in Galicia, Spain, to thank the Apostle Saint James for the vocation he inspired me to undertake, 37 some years ago, when as a young man, I made my first pilgrimage to this Great Apostle of Christ, who brought the Catholic Faith in the Resurrection to Iberia, and when I vowed to God in my heart to become a consecrated religious of Jesus Christ.
I was in this endeavor doing what innumerable Catholics from all over the world have done fore more than a 1000 years, in devotion to this great Witness of Christ’s Power, Divinity and Resurrection.
And I urge each of my readers, to share this story far and wide, and to write letters of complaint to every Ambassador of Spain in the world, castigating them for having such a totally corrupt legal system, where innocents are assaulted in the House of the Apostle, falsely accused, kidnapped, and tortured all day long, only to be hauled into court on false charges afterwards so as to protect the guilty parties who perpetrated these crimes against the Catholic Faith and human rights. Mixed into this criminal mess is one of the most prominent U. S. based security firms, which, on account of the central role of one of the employees of their wholly owned subsidiarity in Europe, is complicit in the conspiracy against a U. S. Citizen to deprive him of his human and civil rights.
This story will read like a nightmare, but it is truly hellish, because it is not fiction, but fact. I will attempt to recount it in chronological order as best I can remember. I will omit names and badge numbers, so that the villains who turned on me like a pack of rabid dogs, might not perpetrate further villainy by claiming I have damaged their reputations.
To the Tomb of Saint James, the Greater
One of the greatest Apostles of Our Lord Jesus Christ, was James the brother of John. Known as the greater, he was one of the Three Our Lord took with him to Mt. Tabor, to see Him in His Transfiguration, and he was so devoted to Our Lady, that the first time She ever appeared, it was to him, as he was preaching in distant Iberia. On his return trip to Jerusalem, he preached Christ Jesus so zealously, that the pharisees in wild rage dragged him to the parapet of the Temple and cast him off, saying, if Jesus was God, He would save him. Hated unto this very day by the crew of Satan’s servant for bringing the Catholic Faith to Iberia and interceding on several occasions to aid Spanish forces in the liberation of their lands from the godless moors, his tomb at Compostella, which is still one of the chief destinations for pilgrimage in all of Europe, is still especially despised by the enemies of God, the Freemasons.
And so I came to the Tomb of the Apostle, Saint James the Greater, on the morning of August 18, 2022, an occasion of such grace, that I decided to make a documentary. Thus, I have in video, the complete legal record of the first assaults made against my person by the 3 employees of Securitas SRL, a wholly owned subsidiarity of Pinkerton, the Masonic Founded, U. S. Security company with a long history of malfeasance, including assassinations, property theft and false accusations of their enemies.
A Documentary of a Nightmare unleashed
These videos would of themselves qualify as top-rated for viewership if they were just the whole of the misadventure which was about to unfold. Yet they are only the first minutes of an 11 hour ordeal, which I will now recount.
Video 1: My arrival at the Cathedral of Santiago
Here, I begin my documentary, at about 9:38 A. M., on the morning of Aug 18, 2022, unaware of the horror which is about to break out against me. I was thrilled to have come at last to Compostella after a pilgrimage of more than 2000 miles, from Kyiv in the Ukraine, where I had just completed the foundation of CO Cross Azure, a Ukrainian, registered non-profit volunteer organization assisting the victims of Russian Aggression.
So I turned on my cellphone camera and began filming an impromptu Documentary, which begins thus:
Video 2: The Main Doors are ominously closed
After waiting for some minutes, I learned that the Main Doors of the Basilica are never opened, except for a visit by the King of Spain:
Video 3: Concerned, I make a point to film the future crime scene, yet unawares
Here, I providentially film the back entrance of the Church, before entering:
Video 4: The First Assault, when the female guard attempted to crush my left leg
As I did not want to record the female volunteer at the door, as part of my documentary, I placed my cellphone back to back with my cellphone power supply in my left hand. And then I approached the door.
As I was about to enter the main external door, the woman, standing in the only open pedestrian entrance blocked my passage. She was wearing a yellow-orange vest, of the kind worn during a road accident, alongside the road. I thought it strange that anyone would dress like that in the Basilica.
She said to me something which I understood in my poor comprehension of Spanish, which seemed to mean: To enter the Cathedral you must wear a medical mask. I said that I do not wear a medical mask. She insisted. I insisted politely. She shouted at me to wear a mask and said I would not enter the Cathedral without one. I said that as a Catholic pilgrim I have a right to visit the Apostle without a mask, as a sign of my faith in the Resurrection, which he preached in Spain.
She then claimed to be a public official.
This claim surprised me, because clearly she was not dressed as a public official. I took her to mean that she was a police woman. So I explained that in Spanish Law there is no longer a legal obligation to wear a mask inside a Church.
She continued to insist.
Then she did something I would never expect, though I was already flabergasted by her lack of poise, manners, and the excessive emotion with which she spoke. Compostella is a pilgrimage center for pilgrims from all over the world. This woman did not know a word of English or Italian and did not attempt to explain anything about her request. She just shouted louder and louder like someone unhinged. And at the peak of her shouting, she pushed me, and ran away into the Basilica.
I really did not know what to make of her behavior. I was trying to read body language since we could not communicate verbally with clarity.
The Basilica like nearly all ancient churches in Europe has two sets of doors. The exterior, exposed to the elements, and an interior, to block the inrush of cold or hot air, as the seasons change.
She ran inside the second door, which she left open.
I naturally presumed she had conceded that she had no legal right to insist about the mask.
I began to enter the second door, by placing my left leg through it to stand inside. She then grabbed the handle of the door by reaching in front of me to my right, and then began to slam the door on my left leg. I reacted to prevent grave injury to my person, by placing my right hand on the outside handle of the interior door, which handle was now exposed to me, in an attempt to slow the force by which she was slamming the door. I began to reproach her, attempting to convince here that such a violent assault was a crime so great that it was not the proper response to whatever necessity she felt.
At that point, the cellphone in my left hand providentially turned on, though the lens was blocked and only our voices can be heard.
Always wanting to avoid conflict, violence and personal contact, I thought quickly on my feet and bowed my head, so as to pass into the Basilica under her arm. I then put about 10 meters of distance between me and the door and looked about to see if I was in any other grave danger.
I never saw her again. She made no further personal effort to approach me. Though I heard her scream for assistance from other guards.
Video 5: The Second Assault, when 2 Security Guards risked sacrilege against the Basilica by violently assaulting me
Here is my video recording for legal record of how I reacted to the first assault, at this very point in the drama, and which providentially recorded the second assault by 2 other Security Guards of the same company.
As can be seen, I was trying everything I knew to avoid conflict. I was attempting to speak in Spanish, warning them that I did not agree to being touched and that any contact on their part would be considered a criminal assault, by saying, “Non toccarmi” (Don’t touch me) in Italian.
Then, fearing that they would do me grave violence and cause me to be wounded and lose blood, which in the Catholic Religion would have desecrated the Basilica — requiring a lengthy and costly reconsecration — I shouted, “Sacrilegio!” repeatedly, to warn them against this.
I also shouted, “Diritto a la religion”, a mix of Italian and Spanish, for “I have the right to freedom of religion”. I do not think they understood me. I also tried to say, You are godless in the house of God! (Usted son sin dios en la casa di Dios).
Mind you, morning mass was about to begin. The Church was full of Catholic faithful waiting in the pews. I was standing to the right of the Chancel Grail which surrounds the main Sanctuary, as you look to the main alter from the main doors. There were hundreds of witnesses to this assault.
Being quick on my feet I succeeded avoiding the grasp of this first man, who came at me with wild rage demanding that I leave the Basilica. He never made an attempt to explain himself. He proved to me that he was acting criminally because the first thing he did was to attempt to grab my cellphone to prevent me recording the crime. No professional security guard properly trained to respect human rights or the sacredness of the place would have acted thus. No clergy seemed to be present. No one came to my help. It seemed as if the faithful were used to being thus abused in the house of God and the Apostle.
Then a second taller guard came and they succeeded in grabbing me under the arms. Whereupon they dragged me across the marble floor using my habit as a mop, and pulled me through the gift shop and ejected me outside near where I had previously entered. In the fray, I lost my glasses and cellphone. In the video you can see a woman find them and give them back to one of the guards.
Here are some photographs of the two male security guards who assaulted me inside the Basilica during Mass!
Video 6: Wherein there is identified the Security Guard who hatched the conspiracy to have my civil and human rights denied me for an entire day
Here is a video of the security guard who assaulted me and who then called the National Police and sicked them on me:
After that my ordeal of 11 hours began, in which I was repeatedly insulted, assaulted, suffered battery on numerous occasions, being kidnapped, held against my will for 10+ hours, repeatedly lied to, and had nearly all the civil rights guarantees detained prisoners in Spanish Law intentionally denied me, with utter contempt.
I was also raped.
Let me strive to recount it all in chronological order.
A False Accusation intentionally launched to deprive me of my rights
Filled with zeal for the house of God and outraged by the violent assaults I had suffered, I immediately raised my voice and called for the police. I took photos of the two guards who assaulted me, and made a video. I also reproached the one shorter guard by using Google Translate App, in the Spanish language, to inform him that I considered what he did to me a crime and that I would most certainly file a criminal complaint.
Being a Franciscan Brother, I am much too naive. I never expected that there is such vileness among men, that upon being so reproached any man would respond by calling the police and accusing me of something so horrendous that I would be kidnapped, tortured and denied nearly all my rights under Spanish Law for the next 11 hours. But that is exactly what happened.
The result of this infamous calumny is grave, as can be seen from what now follows. I am quite angry that a Securitas SRL employee engaged in such a conspiracy against me, and will seek legal means to file a criminal and civil proceeding against them at their owners, the Pinkertons, a Masonic Security company which should not even be allowed to touch the Basilica of the Apostle, let alone determine which kind of Catholic should enter: one which believes in Christ Risen from the Dead, or one which buckles under despotism of the worst kinds.
The Municipal Police Arrive
The city police arrived. There were two of them, a man and a woman. They were very polite, and we tried to talk to one another, but they did not speak English, and I can barely say a word in Spanish. But they an explained to me that the persons whom I identified as my assailants were NOT police men and that I was correct, there was NO law of Spain that requires the medical mask to be worn in the Basilica anymore. He specifically said, “It is a rule of the Church, not of the State.” (Es regla de la Iglesia, no del estado).
This encouraged me to press charges, and so I began with identifying the assailants to the officers.
The officers in turn asked me to identify myself.
I inquired why: asked what law required that I do so. The policemen could not answer my questions. Neither of them knew by which law a person would be required to identify themselves, when they were not the perpetrators of a crime. As the policeman had been polite with me, I showed and gave him my U. S. Passport.
Then, the security guard said that he would file a criminal charge against me. He never did. But he did call the National Police. For the present, I did not even know that there were two police forces in Spain. I presumed these others were also of the same department. And when they came then never identified themselves to me as the National Police.
Kidnapped, Assaulted and repeatedly lied to by the Spanish National Police, San Clemente Commissariat, Compostella
These national police men, first two, then four, then six, came and asked me what had happened in a very broken English. The first two knew only a word or two of English. Of the next too, the man who was heavy set, knew some simple English. I explained the assault, then he asked me to identify myself.
Since I already had identified myself, I said I had already done so to the two other officers, who were still present. He said that that did not count, as I has to identify myself to him. I asked why; I asked by what law.
He said that it was not his duty to explain the law. I remarked, “Whose duty is it to know the law? I challenged them, saying that if they could not cite a law, it was because it did not exist, because certainly if they asked me under the color of the law, they knew which law it was. We discussed this for some minutes. They honestly could not cite the law. I was most surprised.
As the heavy officer appeared to be getting more enraged, I showed him by U. S. Passport, but I did not give it to him. He insisted that I hand it over. I asked by what law he made his request — there is no such law — and he grew enraged, though he did read my passport and had a cellphone to photograph it if he wanted to.
Little did I know that the National Police had already decided to arrest me on the false accusation. I had made photos and videos of my encounters with both police. At the end of the day, these alone were found to be absent from my cellphone, after it had been in the custody of the National Police for some 10 hours. My lawyers tell me that this is a grave violation of the law.
The guile of the National Police
The National Police first insisted that I not leave. I asked why, “Was I under arrest?” They said no.
Then, they asked if I wanted to file a criminal complaint against my assailants. I said I did. They offered to take me in their own car, leading me to the center of the plaza where it was parked.
I asked if I was under arrest. They said no.
So I explained that since I was not under arrest, I had the right to chose my transport, and that I would walk to the Police Station (Commissariate) to file my complaint. I invited them to accompany me.
The heavy officer asked, why I would not enter the back seat of his car.
I said that if I did so, I feared that I would be assaulted or kidnapped by him and his men, since I was not under arrest, clearly there was no legitimate reason to insist that I get into their car.
Then as I looked at the other officers, the heavy set officer assaulted me, grabbing my cellphone from my hands.
Then, in the space of a second, afterwards, the other 3 national police assaulted me. One attempting to grab my right arm, the other my right, and the third one of my legs. They raised me into the air for a moment, but since I weigh nearly 90 kg (200 lbs), they could not hold me there. I went limp which made it impossible for them to sustain me and they dropped me to the cobblestone ground.
I immediately asked if I was under arrest. They again said no. So I concluded they were involved in some sort of criminal conspiracy against me.
I then informed them I would be practicing passive resistance, because they were acting illegally. I made this clear by saying, “Resistencia passiva!” several times.
This enraged them all the more, but with all of them they did succeed putting me in the back seat of the car, with some difficulty, and in doing so risked me permanent grave spinal injury by tossing me partly on the floor partly on the seat. The car being insufficient in width to accommodation my height, they repeatedly slammed the door on my feet.
I was taken to who-knows-where, because I could not see out of the car with my head being on the floor on the left side of the back seat. We arrived after a few minutes at a door on a downward sloping street, into which the car had descended to arrive there at. More police officers grabbed me and lifted me out of the car, but being unable to raise my weight, they threw me on the threshold to their facility. It appeared to be a prison facility. They left me face down on the floor while they discussed out to move me. They pleaded with me to cooperate. I asked if I was arrested. They said no. So I said I would not cooperate. I would practice passive resistance.
More officers picked me up a short ways and then dropped me on the floor at what seemed the entrance to the interrogation or prison facility. Then a younger officer, who had some training succeeded in dragging me to the interrogation room, with the others helping.
These officers knew who I was, because they had already taken from me my passport and wallet. But after a short while they stripped me of my capuche and Franciscan Cord. — They said this was for my own protection. I feared they would do me further harm, as they repeatedly hit me, pinched me, and assaulted me before, during or after the encounters I ha with them during the next 10 hours, held in this unknown facility.
Nearly none of the officers was wearing a uniform. Their uniforms do not indicate names. I asked for names and the refused to give them. I felt that I was in the hands of KKK members on a priest-hunting escapade, but I learned during the day that these were Republicans, that is the Spanish name for the anti-clerical marxists of Spain, known for their brutal persecution of the Church. They were delighted to have a friar in their hands.
They never addressed me as Padre or Fraile. They never treated me as a consecrated person. They never spontaneously offered me anything such as food or water.
I asked for my Rosary, but when they saw that in praying it, I was consoled and became stronger in spirit, the officer who had some training in moving me, snatched it from my hand. I was outraged at the violation of my religious liberty, and reproached them for this.
There are 8 rights which Spanish Law guarantees each detained prisoner in Spain. Five of the 8 were denied me, intentionally and with malice of aforethought.
The first, is that I have a right to legal representation. When I asked for this at about 10:30 A. M., I was told that there were no public defenders available. I asked repeatedly.
The public defender who came to help me at about 7 P.M., told me days later, that at 10:30 A. M., she was sitting in the main waiting hall immediately above my detention cell, waiting to be appointed a case, and every time she requested if there were any who needed a public defender, was told there was no one. This game was played upon her till about 6:30 P. M., according to my recollection of what she told me.
The second, is that I have access to food and water. When I first asked for water a policeman went to get some, but immediately another took him aside and with a malicious grin on his face made some sort of suggestion. I feared that the water would be laced with something or contaminated or contain spit or urine, so when I was brought to me in an open paper cup, I asked instead for a sealed bottle of water. I was refused. No one again offered me water, for the next 10 hours. I asked for food at about noon, and no one brought me any. Later when I was about to be released in the evening, I was offered food, but since I am pre-diabetic I could not eat it. I offered to pay to have food that I can eat brought, I was refused. Going without food or water for 10+ hours was a torture for me, since my metabolism began eating my own flesh, and I could feel a fire come over my skin from head to toe. To endure it, I had to crunch on my cell bed and remain motionless for hours, between each session of interrogation. I eventually became very cold.
The third right I was denied, was the right to know what I was being held for. I asked 3 times, and 3 times I got different answers. I even asked at 1 PM or thereabouts, if I was under arrest. One officers said I was. This surprised me, because the others had denied it. A disagreement broke out among the policemen, and I attempted to end it by asking if they could show me a document verifying that I had been arrested, and for what. They said there was no such document. I concluded that I was not under arrest, but illegally detained, and so I told them I would in no manner cooperate with them further. I refused to give my finger prints and to sign any papers.
I asked again at about 4 PM and I was handed about an hour or two later, a list of the rights of an arrested person. I pointed out that this list of rights in now was says that I have been arrested and why.
I was accused by diverse officers of 3 different crimes: assault of public officials, refusing to obey public officials, refusing to obey the police. I was released at about 8 P. M., without being charged. But the next day the Police did charge me, with assault of the female guard (I never touched her, it was she who attempted to break my leg) and refusing to show my passport to the Police (I had done so, and 6 policemen and numerous bystanders saw me do so.
The fourth right denied me was the right not to be tortured or abused. I was repeatedly pushed, grabbed, pinched viciously and grabbed with violence. I had bruises on my skin for about a week, which convinces me that someone is an expert pincher and grabber, because the thickness of the woolen habit which I wear makes it quite difficult to cause a lesion on the skin through it.
The fifth right denied me was the right to have a translator assist me to understand what was going on and to communicate clearly with the police when they questioned me or made any request of me. This was denied me the entire time I was with them, though at the very end, I was given a phone and someone speaking English partially summarized the 8 rights of detained prisoners. This seemed to be but a cruel joke intended to paste a fig leaf of compliance over an entirely bare nude conspiracy to deny me all of my rights.
How I was raped by one officer, while 3 others held me bound
When I was forcibly taken back to my cell — they chose the cell with blood-stain like spots on the ceiling, at the end of the corridor on the right, with a request-button that seemingly did not work — I was dragged on the floor. It was during this transfer that the most horrendous crime was committed against me, for which I bear to this day and will bear for the rest of my life such a deep sense of personal violation that I will never be able to forget.
One of the younger officers, who had looked at me lasciviously during the day, took the opportunity he saw when the other offers were dragging me on by behind to life my habit, exposing my athletic shorts which I wear in lieu of under-ware, as the Rule of St. Francis requires. It was then he pulled down my pants to expose my private parts, at which he gloatedly stared for some moments. I shouted loudly when I understood what he was about to do, and against him when he was doing it, afterwards remonstrated all the policemen for this rape of a consecrated person.
Never since my private doctor, when I was 12 years old, has any living or now dead human being, seen me utterly naked like that. As a consecrated virgin who has never touched another person or been touched by another person, I cannot get over the sense of shame I feel for what happened to me. I am utterly devastated that I was subjected to such an infamy.
Later, the police would excuse this to my defense attorney, on the grounds that they had to be sure I was not carrying a knife!
In response to my objection to being thus raped, the officers turned me over on my face and dragged me on my left knee causing a gash under the kneecap which, filled with shock, I only noticed afterwards, and the sign of which I still bear.
I have used the word, “rape”, here, as meaning “despoiled or stripped naked with sexual intentions of violation”.
The bizarre sentiments of a National Policeman
This same officer, at another occasion in the day, asked me why I was not being cooperative. I responded that since a very famous American Tech Company inventor was found dead in his cell in Galicia the year before, that I had my reservations about prisons in Galicia, where I was presently being held. As I mentioned an American who was likely murdered in prison by police, this policeman gave me a smile of the most devilish exaltation, as if it turned him on: the idea of killing a prisoner in such wise as to be immune from prosecution. He made no attempt then or thereafter to defend the reputation of the National Police from such a suspicion. His reaction was so strange, that it may be think such occurrences might be usually.
How I escaped imprisonment
At about 4 P.M., I became convinced that I was being held by policemen without any conscience or respect for law, and that if I remained totally passive only worse atrocities and injustices would be perpetrated.
I succeeded in extricating myself by asking a new officer on duty, who came to my cell to ask if I needed the bathroom (who was not involved in my kidnapping) to speak with his superior.
About an hour later, a man, without any uniform, who claimed to be the head of this group of police, began the process for my release. Another policeman, from the Justice Department also came, and seemed somewhat interested to getting me released. The police cannot hold you without charges for more than 72 hours, unless the suspicion was for a grave offense. But as I was charged with nothing of this kind — in fact, I was not yet even charged — they could not hold me for more than 6 hours and by 4 P. M., it was already 30 minutes at least over that limit. And so they were getting anxious about detaining me further.
I was eventually released at about 8 P. M.. At my release I was not charged. The charges were written up by the police the next day. This was because no one came to the station even to accuse me the day I was held and tortured.
But the next day the police accused me of not showing them my passport and refusing to identify myself. And they also claimed that the female security guard came and claimed that I “strongly pulled her arm”. She made no claim to injury. According to Spanish law, such an accusation is not felonious, but the police charged me with grave assault, which has a penalty of a maximum of 6 months, if the accuser can show hospital records proving injury and the need for long term recovery. Both charges were totally false, as I never touched the woman at all, except when she pushed me while running inside the Basilica.
The Second Installment will follow in a few days….
But this horror show did not end there. Next came the court of inquest on the following Tuesday, and all the things which are leading to my imprisonment for 6 months and fine of 3 months salary, if the false accusations made against me are received by a judge. I have also been denied means to defend myself in court, so it looks like I will be found guilty. I am writing my story so that the world may know.
I will pen the second installment in a day or so. (Now available here)
PLEASE SAVE ME by raising your voices!
Since for a charge of 6 months, Spain does not regularly ask for the extradition of persons from other nations, my lawyers say not to fear. But since any nation can comply as a favor, there is a real possibility of my imprisonment, during which I could suffer any more innumerable horrors, even murder.
In the meantime, I ask you to complain to the Spanish Ambassador in the capital of your nation, and bring to his attention the outrageous level of criminality at Compostela. Demand an official investigation by the highest authorities in Madrid. I think that is the only chance I have, because, as my lawyers tell me, the word of these police men against me will be accepted by the court, as I have no witnesses in my favor.
You can also write the Ambassadors of the United States and of the Italian Republic at Madrid and ask them to raise this issue with the Minister of Justice in the Spanish Government.
The case was to be heard today, on Sept. 21, but it has been prorogued to Nov. 21, 2022.
I am not asking any funds to defend myself. I am asking only that voices arise in my defense to the highest authorities in Spain. Please help save me from this nightmare.