Pistoleros 3: 1920 -24

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Dedicated to the memory of Edward Polin poet and "physical force" Chartist from Paisley who died in 1843 HISTORY says, “Don’t hope on this side of the grave.” But then, once in a lifetime the longed-for tidal wave of justice can rise up, and hope and history rhyme. So hope for a great sea-change on the far side of revenge. Believe that a further shore is reachable from here. Believe in miracles and cures and healing wells.

— Seamus Heaney ANARCHISM swept us away completely, because it demanded everything of us and promised everything to us. There was no remote corner of life that it did not illumine ... or so it seemed to us ... shot though with contradictions, fragmented into varieties and sub-varieties, anarchism demanded, before anything else, harmony between deeds and words.

—Victor Serge – Memoirs of a Revolutionary CONCERNING original history...the content of these histories is necessarily limited; their essential material is that which is living in the experience of the historian himself and in the current interests of men; that which is living and contemporary in their milieu.

The author describes that in which he has participated, or at least which he has lived; relatively short periods, figures of individual men and their deeds...it is not sufficient to have been the contemporary of the events described, or to be well-informed about them. The author must belong to the class and the social milieu of the actors he is describing; their opinions, way of thought and culture must be the same as his own. In order to really know phenomena and see them in real context, one must be placed at the summit — not seeing them from below, through the keyhole of morality or any other wisdom.

— Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel – Reason in History THERE is a history in all men’s lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased; The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life, which in their seeds And weak beginnings lie intreasured.

— William Shakespeare – King Henry IV (Part 2, Act 3, Scene 1)

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Farquhar McHarg

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ChristieBooks

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG ¡PISTOLEROS!

3:1920-24 Copyright © 2012 Estate of Farquhar McHarg (‘B’ McHarg) First published in Great Britain in 2012 by ChristieBooks/Read ‘n’ Noir PO Box 35 Hastings East Sussex, TN34 1ZS, UK ISBN 978-1-873976-50-0 British Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Fiction Jacket designed by: Pierre Ellis All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.

Distributed in the UK by: Central Books Ltd 99 Wallis Road London E9 5LN orders@centralbooks.com

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CONTENTS The Chronicles of Farquhar McHarg. Vol 3:1920-24 1976:

October 28-29— Céret, Pyrénées Orientales

1

1920:

January — Slouching Towards Bethlehem

17

1976:

November 13 — Lyon

67

1921:

January— Class War

1922:

January — The Names of the Dead

141

1976:

November 17 — Toulouse

185

1923:

January — Gotterdamerung

205

1976:

November 27 — Toulouse

271

1924:

Incident At Vera De Bidasoa

305

1976:

November 28 — Toulouse

311

1977:

January 10 — Paris, Belleville

316

1977:

Index

321

99

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Farquhar McHarg (1959)

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Farquhar’s Chronicles are folk history, bringing the changes that shook the political and social landscape of Spain (and the world) between 1918 and 1977 into the framework of a contemporary adult lifetime. They make a vexatious but fascinating story that explains the spirit and Idea that moved the selfless, generous, occasionally naïve and recklessly idealistic people involved in the bitter social struggles that marked the hectic insurrectionary and utopian aftermath of the great imperialist war of 1914-18.

This third volume of Farquhar McHarg’s journal focuses on the remarkable adventures of the Glaswegian anarchist during the period 1920-24 as a member of the anarchist action groups: Los Justicieros (‘the Avengers’); Crisol (‘Crucible’); Los Solidarios (‘Solidarity’), and the armed clandestine defence cadres of the CNT, the anarcho-syndicalist labour union. Their militants faced extermination from the calculated violence of the security services of a vicious semi-feudal state, and the mercenary killers employed by landed grandees and an equally savage industrial and commercial bourgeoisie.

Farquhar’s Chronicles also tell a parallel narrative of plot and counterplot, ranging from 1936 to 1976, exploring the background to the murder of Farquhar’s comrade, the notorious anarchist counterfeiter and facilitator Laureano Cerrada Santos, and the subsequent attempts to kill the seventy-six-year-old Farquhar himself. It is a compelling and dramatic tale of the Govan man’s attempt to ferret out the identity of a long-term traitor within the Spanish émigré anarcho-syndicalist organisation, the CNT-MLE (Spanish Libertarian Movement), a confidente known only as ‘The Priest’.

This story unfolds against the backdrop of machinations by Spanish and other Western spymasters obsessed with the idea that post-Franco Spain might go ‘Red’. To pre-empt this eventuality they deployed deep-penetration agents of influence, traitors at the highest level of the Spanish émigré anarcho-syndicalist movement. By inducing fear and paranoia through acts of treachery, their objective was to demoralise, disrupt and neutralise the effectiveness of that small band of anarchist militants who had fought relentlessly to topple the old regime by aggressive action and who might thwart their plans for a post-Francoist Spain. These puppetmasters also sought to extend and consolidate their proxy control over the influential anarcho-syndicalist organisation inside and outside of Spain during the ‘disease-prone’ transition period to democracy’ (communism being defined as a ‘disease of transition’). It was the height of the Cold War and, with Spain’s dictator dead, the West’s geopolitical agenda-setters needed to ensure NATO hegemony over the Mediterranean, and the continuity of the Francoist agenda (and elite) at a time when they believed Spanish society would be particularly susceptible to social breakdown as it underwent modernisation.

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‘If anyone should ask me: ‘Do you think that anarcho-syndicalism is an ultimate factor in Spanish politics?’ my answer is ‘Yes’ and that neither today nor ever can it be neglected. Lastly, if anyone should beg me to be explicit as to my own view on anarcho-syndicalism as a political fact, I return to what I have said already.

Here is my formula; it is a non-political formula. People too full of humanity dream of freedom, of the good, of justice, giving these an emotional and individualistic significance. Carrying such a load, an individual can hope for the respect and loyalty of his relations and friends, but if he should hope to influence the general social structure, he nullifies himself in heroic and sterile rebellion. No man can approach mankind giving his all and expecting all in return. Societies are not based on the virtues of individuals, but on a system which controls defects by limiting the freedom of everyone. Naturally the system takes a different form under feudalism, capitalism and communism. Let anarchosyndicalists invent their own system, and until they have attained it, go on dreaming of a strange state of society in which all men are as disinterested as St Francis of Assisi, bold as Spartacus, and able as Newton and Hegel. But behind the dream there is a human truth of the most generous kind — sometimes, let me insist, absolutely sublime. Is not that enough?’

— Ramón J Sender, Seven Red Sundays ‘When will there be justice in Athens? There will be justice in Athens when those who are not injured are as outraged as those who are.’ ― Thucydides, The History of the Peloponnesian War ‘The man who thinks only of his own salvation is as good as a coal drawn out of the fire.’

— James Jones, The Thin Red Line

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Ley de Fugas —‘Fugitive Law’ (Helios Gómez)

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‘The absence of romance in my history will, I fear, detract somewhat from its interest; but if it be judged useful by those inquirers who desire an exact knowledge of the past as an aid to the interpretation of the future, which in the course of human things must resemble if it does not reflect it, I shall be content.

In fine, I have written my work, not as an essay which is to win the applause of the moment, but as a possession for all time.’

— Thucydides, The History of the Peloponnesian War (Book I) ‘Fix your eyes on the greatness of Athens as you have it before you day by day, fall in love with her, and when you feel her great, remember that this greatness was won by men with courage, with knowledge of their duty, and with a sense of honour in action . . . So they gave their bodies to the commonwealth and received, each for his own memory, praise that will never die, and with it the grandest of all sepulchres, not that in which their mortal bones are laid, but a home in the minds of men, where their glory remains fresh to stir to speech or action as the occasion comes by. For the whole earth is the sepulchre of famous men; and their story is not graven only on stone over their native, but lives on far away, without visible symbol, woven into the stuff of other men’s lives. For you now it remains to rival what they have done and, knowing the secret of happiness to be freedom and the secret of freedom a brave heart, not idly to stand aside from the enemy’s onset.’

— Thucydides, The History of the Peloponnesian War (Book II, Pericles’ funeral oration)

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CÉRET, PYRÉNÉES ORIENTALES, 28-29 OCTOBER 1976

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It was close to midnight on 28 October when Farquhar turned off the Route de Perpignan on the outskirts of Céret, and drove into the gravel-covered courtyard of the apartment block in the grounds of the Chateau d’Aubiry. It wasn’t a particularly ancient chateau, in fact it was built in 1900, the year Farquhar was born, the creation of Joseph Bardou, a French bourgeois who made his money manufacturing JOB cigarette papers. The chateau and its estate had been sold off a few years earlier to property developers. Farquhar’s old friend Juan Busquets had leased one of the refurbished apartments in what had been the servants’ block, but he didn’t live there. He and Yvette, his partner, occupied the flat above their grocery store in the centre of Céret; the Chateau d’Aubiry apartment was used as a holiday home by his wife’s extended family — and by Busquets’s comrades as an occasional safe house.

Céret had been Busquets’s adopted hometown since 1969, the year he was released after completing 20 years in Franco’s prisons. As a former guerrilla he had fought with José Sabate’s action group and spent those 20 long years in a succession of jails across the length and breadth of Spain. He was one of the lucky few — he had survived.

A base for two of the action groups operating inside Spain since Franco’s victory in 1939, Céret had also been a Maquis stronghold during the Nazi occupation. Busquets, trained by experienced mountain guerrilla guides and contrabandistas, knew the unguarded border crossings of the Eastern Pyrenees like the back of his hand.

Yvette’s relatives owned a number of local properties, including the Mas Graboudeille, a remote But ’n’ Ben shelter situated some four 3

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miles up the mountain from the thermal baths at La Preste. Between the Mas and the border, a distance of a mile or so, there was only one other house, roughly 500 yards from the Franco-Spanish border. It belonged to Yvette’s brother. Between the Mas and the thermal bath there was one other building, La Barragane, the property of Yvette’s sister’s. To the north, east and west, the land was barren and uninhabited —except for a few shepherds and their flocks —but easy to cross.

Farquhar unloaded six large boxes containing Cerrada’s files from the car and carried them up the external spiral staircase to the apartment. Locking the door behind him, he flopped onto the bed, exhausted. It had been a tough eighteen hours. Since leaving the Porte d’Italie in Paris at 6.00 that morning he had driven over 900 kilometres, stopping only a few times for coffee and to stretch his legs.

Busquets had left some provisions for him in the larder, but Farquhar was too tired to eat. Pouring himself a three-finger measure of Fundador, he undressed, threw back the brandy, shuddering as it burned its way down his gullet to his gut, climbed into bed and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Céret, Friday 29 October 1976 The sound of jangling pots and the aroma of percolating coffee drifting through from the kitchen wakened Farquhar about 10:00. It was Busquets, with fresh bread and that morning’s Libération.

‘Salud Compadre! How was the trip? Feeling OK?’ asked Busquets, setting out the breakfast plates on the dining room table.

‘Not too bad,’ said Farquhar, ‘but it was a bloody long drive.’

‘How are things in Paris? Did you notice anyone following you?

What’s the latest on Cerrada’s murder?’

‘Well, as you can imagine, things were a bit hectic last week. No, I don’t think I was tailed. I’m fairly good at counter-surveillance. I’ve had plenty of experience after all. Still got the old magic — Inshallah!

As for who’s behind all this, that’s what I’m hoping to find out while I’m here,’ replied Farquhar. ‘As Laureano instructed, I’ve brought the diaries, notebooks and the police and court records his lawyer gave me; now it’s a matter of seeing what I can glean from them as to possible motives. There are plenty of suspects, but I’ve got my own short list of likely candidates. It’s a question of narrowing the field.’

Céret, Monday 8 November 1976 For ten days Farquhar ploughed his way through court transcripts, police reports, depositions, records of examinations-in-chief by 4

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magistrates, letters, diaries, notebooks, newspaper and magazine clippings, as well as Cerrada’s jottings on scraps of paper. Extracting the data he considered important, he noted it onto separate, crossreferenced and alphabetically ordered index cards. His problem was deciding what data to extract for the card index. For Farquhar it was part system and part intuition acquired over years of involvement in the intelligence process and investigative journalism. Making a card for each of Cerrada’s known associates, he noted all the relevant information about them — address, phone number, relationship to Cerrada, the documents in the files proving that relationship, dates of specific interactions with Cerrada and what those were, and connections with other organisations and individuals to which he or she might also be linked.

Every organisation to which Cerrada was linked had its own box of card index files, as did each member of the organisation, no matter how high- or low-profile they might be, each with their own separate card, as well as being noted on the card relating to that organisation.

It was a mammoth register. The dining room table was stacked high with card index boxes; it soon reached the point where there was too much information to keep track of it all. All the data and the ways in which they were interconnected had mushroomed into a matrix of unbelievable complexity.

One wall had been transformed into a gigantic corkboard on which were pinned photographs and notes linked, apparently higgledy-piggledly, with a cat’s cradle of raffia straw connecting names of people, organisations and events. This was Farquhar’s idea of ‘network analysis’, a system he had developed over years of investigative research, a three-dimensional chart of the important relationships between Cerrada, his associates and the organisations with which they were involved. Different coloured raffia strands illustrating the flow of money, influence, weapons, premises, expertise — even gossip and hearsay.

Farquhar was conscious of the need for caution with network analysis. It was easy to assume guilt by association, the weakness of conspiracy theorists everywhere. Experience had shown him that likeminded people connected by friendship or political affiliations were not necessarily up to no good. The association patterns on which he based his system were simply that, association and no more; he was always conscious of the fact that the interpretation he put upon that association was subjective and open to error.

The big man from Govan harboured no illusions about the extent to which Cerrada’s activities straddled conflicting and seemingly 5

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irreconcilable worlds. On the one hand there was the Cerrada he had known and respected as a comrade and friend for over fifty years; on the other was this distinct ‘Mr Hyde’ personality, one whose nature and behaviour functioned on a completely different macroscopic level.

Things had started going wrong for Cerrada in the autumn of 1949. Political tensions resulting from the trauma of defeat and the subsequent post-1939 power struggle within the emigré community, particularly among the members of the Executive Council of the Spanish Libertarian Movement (MLE) in exile(1) — aggravated by Cerrada’s clandestine activities and his compromising criminal connections made during and after the Nazi occupation —led, in 1950, to his expulsion from the CNT. His black market activities cost him many friends in the movement, or people he thought were friends but who turned out to be opportunistic acquaintances.

At the time of his murder in October 1976, Cerrada was a supporter, albeit on the periphery, for the anarchist Grupos de Acción Revolucionario Internacional (GARI), the successors to the First of May action groups (1966-1972). Even after his expulsion and imprisonment in 1950, he continued in the role of ‘facilitator’ and as a ‘wise head’, someone the younger militants, the ‘Apaches’, could turn to for advice, moral solidarity and, when required, logistical and financial support.

As for Cerrada’s business associates and ‘clients’, Farquhar was unable to identify anyone with a strong enough grudge against him, other than his old adversary Benicho Canuda and his associates in and around the CNT National Committee in Exile in the Rue de Belfort in Toulouse: Germinal Esgleas, José Borrás Cascarosa, Roque Santamaría, Federica Montseny and others. Cerrada’s ‘business partners’ may have been the venal riff-raff of the Parisian, Marseilles and Corsican milieu, a squalid collection of secret service types, Walter Mitty characters and chancers from the four corners of the globe, but their relationship with Cerrada seemed entirely professional, and without rancour. These were the connections he had built up during the latter days of the Spanish Civil War and the Nazi occupation of France when he, Farquhar and others were running escape and evasion lines across the Pyrenees, harassing the German army, the Gestapo and the Milice, and providing support in 1944 for the Allied armies who were fighting their way through France. The Nazi retreat and the Allied advance provided valuable opportunities for accumulating the much-needed matériel and funds with which to continue the armed struggle against Franco. Cerrada, always with an eye for the main chance, was never one to squander an opportunity.

The longer Farquhar pondered the complicated bubble-charts 6

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Venn diagrams and mad arrows that covered an entire wall of the living room, the more he realised just how entangled, impenetrable and diverse were his friend’s business and friendship networks. It was a veritable Vershrankung. As Mark Twain said, somewhere: ‘Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody, if he can help it.’ Cerrada certainly had his dark side, which was, only now, after his death becoming visible to Farquhar.

Farquhar could identify the links between individuals and organisations and could see, albeit dimly, how each part might relate to the whole picture, but it was nigh-on impossible to unravel the complexities linking Cerrada with his multifarious circle of acquaintances, or figure out what was and what was not relevant to his investigation. There were too many strands; too much confusion as to possible motive. Farquhar could only follow his intuition. Nowhere was there evidence that Cerrada’s murder and the attempt on his own life had anything to do with his ‘business connections’ with the French, British, Israeli or US special services. Of course one could never be 100 per cent certain, but a close reading of his friend’s documents indicated that neither they nor the gangsters of the milieu appeared to have anything to gain from his death — quite the contrary, in fact.

As a middleman-cum-quartermaster he was too useful to everyone.

After ten days Farquhar was convinced that the likely culprits, those with motive, opportunity and cover, lay closer to home.

Dating back to 1948, Cerrada’s French police files made intriguing reading, particularly the coded and redacted references to the agents and confidentes (informers) of the Renseignements Généraux (RG) and Deuxième Bureau infiltrated into and recruited from the emigré movement.(2) One name in particular kept cropping up. Most of the agents seemed to be well informed and highly placed, but the most valued, trusted and longest-serving confidente was one referred to in the police reports as ‘The Priest’. The first reference occurred in June 1948 when The Priest’ maliciously and wrongly identified Cerrada as the mastermind behind a botched wages robbery at the Rhône Poulenc factory in Lyon in which a guard was killed. It wasn’t true. For years Cerrada had argued with Sabaté, Facerías and other prominent antiFrancoist urban and rural guerrillas against involving themselves and comrades in armed expropriations. Such actions, he said, were counterproductive and endangered, needlessly, the lives of innocent employees, bystanders and militants alike, which is precisely what happened in the Rhône Poulenc case. Farquhar was well aware that that particular payroll robbery had been planned and carried out by 7

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members of Francisco Sabaté’s action group. Cerrada had not been involved in any way. The French police knew it too.

A thread that ran through Cerrada’s diaries and correspondence over the years was the conviction that the person identified in the French police files as ‘The Priest’ was Germinal Esgleas, the secretarygeneral of the Toulouse-based Executive Council of the (MLE) in exile, and that he and his spouse, the former republican government minister Federica Montseny, along with an unknown number of their trusted committee members, had, for years, been working hand in glove with both the Francoist and Gaullist special services. Recent notes indicated that Cerrada was aware of links the couple had with the Francoist ‘Bunker’, the coalition of right-wing army officers, fascist functionaries and politicians of Manuel Fraga Iribarne’s Alianza Popular, in Madrid.

These were the belligerent old- guard hardliners who had wielded power and influence under Franco and were now intent on putting the brakes on the supposedly democratic constitutional agenda of the current ‘transitional’ government of the parliamentary fascist and Grandee of Spain, Adolfo Suárez. The ‘Bunker’s’ objective was to ensure that the new ‘democratic’ constitution forced on them by Franco’s death, adopted as many as possible of the legal practices and principles that had governed Francoism, including an Amnesty Law. There was more, considerably more. Cerrada’s notebooks for 1939-40 referred to the disappearance of much of the CNT-FAI’s funds and moveable assets. In January 1939 at least 6 million in French francs, gold ingots, share certificates, works of art and jewellery had been smuggled out of Spain, into France, on the orders of Mariano R Vázquez (‘Marianet’), the last secretary-general of the CNT under the Republic, and the first secretary-general of the émigré CNT and the self-appointed MLE Executive, whose office holders included Germinal Esgleas and Federica Montseny In France, the first port of call of this treasure-laden caravan of six trucks and a car was the Chateau d’Aubiry where, coincidentally, Busquets now had the apartment which Farquhar was using as his base. In the car were Marianet (Vázquez), Montseny, Esgleas and a ubiquitous, cosmopolitan German-born truss salesman by the name of André Germaine, a shadowy figure who claimed to have been present at most of the potentially revolutionary tipping points of post-1918 Europe, from the Spartakist uprising in 1920 through the factory occupations in Italy to the Asturias uprising of 1934. Until the final days of the Civil War, Germaine had been a paid official of the CNT-FAI with ‘special responsibility’ for Spain’s border with France.(3) Cerrada’s diaries for 1939-40 stated that shortly after arriving in 8

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France, Esgleas — with the financial and legal assistance of André Germaine —purchased a property in the Dordogne, near La Charrière, three kilometres from Salon, where he set up home with Federica — who by this time had assumed the name of ‘Fanny Germaine’, perhaps to avoid being extradited back to Francoist Spain, although that would seem to have been unlikely in pre-Occupation France. André Germaine bought an adjoining farm at the same time. Where his money came from was a mystery; suffice it to say that Germaine was a signatory to the CNT-FAI National Committee’s bank accounts and was responsible, in late 1938, for setting up and transferring the union’s funds to the Swiss bank account of the newly-formed Executive Committee of the MLE. Another letter in Cerrada’s archives shows that during that first summer of exile of 1939, Francisco Ponzán Vidal, Farquhar’s friend and comrade from the Council of Aragón and his SIEP (Servicio de Información Especial Periférica —Special Border Intelligence Service) days, wrote to Esgleas as secretary-general of the MLE reminding him of the pressing humanitarian needs of the union militants still in Spain, and of the MLE’s obligations to provide financial and logistical support to the CNT prisoners, their families, and the resistance groups.(4) Esgleas refused point blank to consider the matter. His attitude towards the committees inside Spain was that because of their ongoing links with the Spanish republican government in exile they were ‘reformists’ who had placed themselves beyond the pale, and would receive no financial support from the émigré organisation in Toulouse — certainly as long as Esgleas controlled the purse-strings.(5) Farquhar was adamant that things began going badly wrong in 1936 with the vertiginous rise to power of Mariano R. Vázquez; first to the position of regional secretary of the Catalan CNT then, in November 1936, to the post of secretary-general of the CNT National Committee.

According to Farquhar, it was he who — largely single-handedly, but ably assisted by Montseny, Esgleas and others who should have known better — began suffocating the revolutionary process with his bureaucratic and cowardly deference to the Catalan and Madrid governments, and to the British and French consuls in Barcelona by ensuring that the CNT did not socialise those countries’ important commercial interests in Catalonia. Tragically, the majority of the membership acquiesced to this, by allowing the CNT-FAI street patrols to be replaced first by the Central Committee of Anti-Fascist Militias, then by security forces answerable only to the Generalidad Defence Council.

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Marianet had insisted — along with Montseny — that Durruti withdraw his militia column from the Aragón front to come to the aid of besieged Madrid, a totally cosmetic and unnecessary propaganda move intended to cover the prominent leaders’ embarrassment after the public outcry that followed when they and the other cabinet ‘ministers’ abandoned the capital for Valencia Within days of his arrival in the capital, Durruti was dead, shot ‘accidentally’ by his military ‘adviser’, Sergeant José Manzana. It was no accident. García Oliver, Durruti’s former comrade and the CNT’s Minister of Justice in the government of Largo Caballero, covered up the details of the manner of Durruti’s death, instructing witnesses and those involved in the investigation to remain silent, insisting on the falsehood that he had been shot by a Francoist sniper while touring the front line.

Durruti’s death on 19 November 1936 was a tragic and, ultimately, fatal blow, not only to comrades but to republican morale in general.(6) It was also Marianet who, the following August, delivered the coup de graçe to the revolution with a letter to his hero, Prime Minister Dr Juan Negrin, in which he disowned the Council of Aragón, the last remaining organ of popular revolutionary power in Spain, thereby sacrificing the CNT’s achievements and influence in the region and offering it up to be crushed by the Stalinists.

From 1942 through to 1949 and beyond, Franco’s secret police captured — and/or murdered — many CNT activists in the interior. In November 1943, for example, the Barcelona Brigada Político Social arrested, in one swoop, the entire Catalan regional committee. Enrique Marco Nadal, a member of that committee — and of the National Committee —told Farquhar that shortly before his arrest in April 1947 he met a courier from the émigré CNT(E) in Toulouse whom he tricked into believing that he was a member of Esgleas’s pro-Toulouse CNT. The courier gave him an envelope containing over 8,000 pesetas saying: ‘This will help with your good work of discrediting the reformists who are currently running the organisation in the interior.

Germinal has asked me to tell you that this is just the first of many such deliveries. He promises you will have as much money as is necessary to break the reformist organisation in Spain and leave us as the only Confederal Organisation inside and outside of Spain.’ Nadal accepted the money and signed a receipt for him to take back to Esgleas. On a separate occasion other National Committee members were approached by two of Esgleas’s ‘delegates’, one of whom was a 10

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man named Zubizarreta, who arrived in Madrid with promises of cash to ‘beef-up’ the organisation in the interior. Unsurprisingly, the Esgleasfunded committees in Spain, which were financed with money from the SAC, the Swedish anarcho-syndicalist union, lasted only as long as the Swedish crowns kept coming in.(7) Marco Nadal also referred to the activities, in the 1940s, of a certain Cecilio Galdós, an agent sent into Spain, by Esgleas and Montseny, to undermine the ‘collaborationist’ CNT of the interior.

Galdós claimed to be on the FAI Peninsular committee and was always showing off, flashing around handfuls of Swedish crowns. Nadal acknowledged the man’s undoubted courage in entering Spain but was highly critical of the abuse of Swedish union funds: the lack of men with brains and sufficient balls to enter Spain during Franco’s time, forced them to use men with balls even if they lacked brains. Only the leaders of the France-based faction remained insensible to the Francoist repression, and the men laden with cash that they sent into Spain every time there was a police crackdown were not there as testimony to their sympathy for the victims of such political actions but rather to replay again and again their failed attempts to storm the committees of the interior in order to capture the organisation through them.

Galdós was shot dead in 1949, in mysterious circumstances, while crossing the Pyrenees.

When the Spain-based CNT later declined an invitation by the International Working Men’s Association (IWA/AIT, la Asociación Internacional de los Trabajadores) to participate in a conference at which Montseny and Esgleas’s CNT would also be present, they did so referring to the latter’s campaign of slanderous vilification: ‘a campaign inspired by those who, hiding behind our cherished principles and operating under cover of the freedom granted to them by Democratic France, did nothing to help the CNT in Spain to recover in its times of distress — but did much to sink it. They failed in this, however, thanks to the loyalty and affection expended by and on behalf of the CNT in Spain.’

Farquhar had no doubts that Esgleas’s and Montseny’s corrosive strategy had led to the clash that finally sundered the CNT at the October 1945 Congress. The crucial question was: had Cerrada uncovered sufficient —any —hard evidence that would prove beyond doubt that Esgleas, his spouse and their émigré cronies of the Rue de Belfort had been involved in something even more sinister than wresting control of the CNT in Spain from its grass roots and embezzling movement funds? Had their greed and their megalomania drawn them perhaps into collaborating with the Gestapo, the Milice?

Perhaps their collaboration even extended to working with the CNT’s oldest enemy from 1918–1919, the robber baron Josep Bertrán y Musitu, a truly sinister piece of work whose web of intrigue extended 11

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across the whole of southern France from Biarritz to Ventimiglia, who, throughout the war, headed Franco’s private foreign intelligence service, the Servicio de Información de la Frontera Noroeste de España (SIFNE).

There had certainly been a number of officially authorised contacts with Josep Bertrán y Musitu in Marseilles through Manuel Escorza del Val’s CNT-FAI investigation and intelligence service. It wouldn’t have been the first time that unbending ideological obsession — the self-deluding justification for the drive to self-aggrandisement and power, about which they are in total denial, the insidious poison of office and power —had precipitated otherwise principled men and women down the slippery, shameless slopes of corruption, deception, treachery and betrayal. Evil really can be banal.

NOTES 1: The Consejo General del Movimiento Libertario Espanol — the MLE (the

Executive Council of the Libertarian Movement) —was an arbitrarily constituted and undemocratic entity set up towards the end of 1938, when it was clear that the war was lost, by the ‘prominent leaders’ of the three branches of the Spanish libertarian movement: the CNT, the FAI and the FIJL, the Federación Ibérica de Juventudes Libertarias, the anarchist youth movement.

The idea originated with Juan García Oliver, whose politics can best be described as ‘anarcho-Bolshevik’, who argued that the libertarian movement should be in a position to respond immediately to events as they arose, and make executive decisions without having to refer back to — or consult with — the rank and file, a clear breach of anarcho-syndicalist, federalist and democratic principles.

The Executive Committee was, ostensibly, made up of five delegates from the CNT, three from the FAI and two from the Libertarian Youth (FIJL). However, a plenum of the Barcelona Local Federation of Libertarian Youth challenged the self-appointed MLE Executive saying it ‘would never submit to a body which, by its very essence, negated the fundamental anarchist principles of both the CNT and the FAI. Cerrada’s friends in the movement were, for the most part, anarcho-syndicalists and anarchists committed to continuing the anti-Francoist Resistance, right up to the end, despite the all obstacles and the inertia-inducing comforts of life in exile. But there were other so-called ‘comrades’ with whom he maintained contact that puzzled Farquhar, in particular people such as Esgleas and Montseny whose roles throughout the revolutionary period and the statist ‘antifascist’ war had been so negative and subversive of anarchist aspirations and principles. Farquhar always assumed Cerrada’s strategy was to keep his friends close, and his enemies closer. He was fond of quoting Sun Tzu: ‘If you know others and know yourself, you will not be imperilled in a hundred battles; if you do not know others but know yourself, you win one and lose one; if you do not know others and do not know yourself, you will be imperilled in every single battle.’

In 1945, however, the reality was that with the fall of Hitler’s and Mussolini’s

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1976: 8 NOVEMBER —CÉRET, PYRÉNÉES ORIENTALES —NOTES regimes, everyone was convinced that the Allies would keep their promise and ratchet up the military and diplomatic pressure on Franco. That being the case, argued Esgleas and Montseny —cleverly playing their ‘revolutionary’ card while at the same time attempting to expiate their guilt by first confessing the ‘sins’ of their thoughts, words, deeds and complicity in what they did and failed to do as administrative cogs in the various republican and Generalidad governments between 1936 and 1939 — it would be unnecessary and counter-productive to compromise or dilute the CNT’s anarchist purity by continuing to collaborate with exiled and discredited Spanish republican government, as was the case with the CNT committees of the interior. Nor did it help that some of the comrades in those committees were known to be in contact with disenchanted monarchist army officers and sidelined Falangists in the government and the fascist vertical unions. With a republican government restored to power by the Allies in Madrid, they argued, the CNT could recover its dignity and pick up where it had left off in the heady days of July and August 1936. Cerrada appears to have fallen for this cunningly equivocal argument, which was specifically designed to undermine support for the Organisation in Spain and make the case for a unified CNT under the leadership of Esgleas, Montseny and their cronies.

2: The most recent reference in the files, dated May 1974, related to the police investigation into that month’s kidnapping, by the Grupos de Acción Revolucionaria Internacionalista (GARI), of Banco de Bilbao director Ángel Baltasar Suárez. According to the report’s author, Commissioner Tatareau, head of the French security service in south-western France — a close friend of Esgleas and a regular visitor to the latter’s office at 4 Rue de Belfort in Toulouse — his informant, ‘The Priest’, told him that Cerrada had bankrolled that operation, a claim Farquhar knew to be untrue because he had been involved, personally, in the operational planning of that action, albeit on the periphery, dealing with the media. Cerrada having only recently been released from prison it was agreed among the comrades that it was too dangerous to involve him, simply because he was seriously compromised.

Another Esgleas’ associate and a regular visitor to the Rue de Belfort was Inspector Mikel Herranz of the French Direction de la Surveillance du Territoire (DST). Herranz was the author of a report dated 27 August 1963, which Farquhar discovered among Cerrada’s papers, identifying key members of the action groups and their sympathisers in Paris, Toulouse, Lyon, Perpignan, Avignon, Grenoble and Saint-Etienne. This document listed their names, their addresses and their roles in the organisation. Herranz named ‘The Priest’ as his source.

In a separate file, dated 3 May 1966 — during the 12-day period that the First of May Group held Mgr Marcos Ussia, the Francoist ecclesiastical envoy to the Vatican, hostage — Esgleas was named as having briefed Herranz on the identities of the likely members of the action group holding Ussia in Rome.

Herranz arranged for Esgleas be interviewed in Le Monde on 4 May 1966, where he condemned the kidnapping of the priest as ‘entirely negative’. This bore a remarkable similarity to his denunciation of Francisco Ponzán Vidal in 1940.

3: André Germaine, a freemason and a close friend of Pierre Bardou the owner of the Chateau d’Aubiry, was a high-ranking office-holder in the liberal and secular Grand Orient de France who emigrated to Chile in late 1939 where he established a major trucking firm. He died in Santiago de Chile in 1964.

The driver, ‘J.M.C.’ — an informer on Cerrada’s payroll, which was how he knew of the clandestine operation — worked for José Minué, head of the CNT-

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 FAI’s foreign intelligence service (Minué was the brother-in-law of Manuel Escorza del Val, republican Spain’s latter-day Robespierre, the morally and physically crippled head of the CNT-FAI’s Servicio de Información y Coordinación [SIC] — another piece of work). Minué was also on the MLE Executive Council, and had played a prominent role in enforcing militarisation, governmental collaboration, and the repression and murder of rank-and-file militants, the ‘uncontrollables’.

Farquhar despised him, considering him to be one of the guilty men and women responsible for the collapse of popular morale and Franco’s ultimate victory.

The caravan story had been confirmed to Busquets, by an elderly estate worker at the Chateau.What happened to the CNT’s assets remains a mystery to this day.

Esgleas initialy denied their existence, and consistently refused to account for them.

Nor did he ever explain what happened to the 2.5 million French francs he had received from the Spanish Aid Committee when it was formally wound up in the summer of 1939. At the end of the Spanish Civil War, this committee, headed by former prime minister and president of the Cortes, Diego Martínez Barrio, shared out the remaining governmental funds, on a pro-rata basis, to each of Spain’s political parties and organisations, of which 2.5 million francs were divided equally between the CNT and the FAI. Juan García Oliver and Horacio Prieto were nominated, respectively, to receive these monies on behalf of the two organisations.

García Oliver later told Farquhar that when he and Prieto visited Martínez Barrio, in the presence of Federica Montseny, they were each handed one-and-a-quarter million francs in 1,000-franc notes. ‘The money didn’t even have time to warm our hands,’ he recalled. ‘As we left the Aid office Germinal Esgleas was hovering outside the door waiting for us, like a vulture, to claim the money on behalf of the MLE Executive Council.’ Needless to say, Esgleas’s opposition to government collaboration didn’t preclude him from accepting a divvy-up of government funds.

4: Disgracefully, none of the CNT militants who remained behind to continue the struggle against the Francoist repression received any help whatsoever from Esgleas’s Council. Nor did the MLE attempt to provide succour for —or attempt to rescue —those in the greatest danger. Effectively they abandoned the comrades in the interior, leaving them to fend for themselves. Guerrilla units such as the Salvador Gomez-Talon José group, for example, crossed back into Francoist Spain in July 1939 with 400 pesetas of their own money — between ten of them.

5: Esgleas’s blatantly hypocritical reasoning was that the Spanish committees were ‘apostates’ ‘collaborating’ with the Spanish republican government in exile, and other non-Stalinist parties. What had been everyday practice for Esgleas and his cronies between 1936 and 1939 was now anathema to Toulouse. To many inside Spain it was an understandably pragmatic position given the existing balance of power and the overwhelming need for solidarity among allies in the bloodbath that was then engulfing the country. Esgleas’s and Montseny’s argument was that the CNT committees in Spain had failed to learn the lessons of their earlier mistakes with the Largo Caballero, Negrín and Companys governments and were continuing to betray the anti-political principles of the CNT. The highly emotive smear of ‘collaboration’ was a convenient ideological ploy that allowed Esgleas to secure his control over the movement in Spain and in exile. Nothing and no one would be allowed to stand in his way of his apostolic succession.

Esgleas was aided in this, possibly unwittingly, by the wealthy Swedish anarchosyndicalist union, the SAC (Sveriges Arbetares Centralorganisation), whose ‘Spanish bank account’ allowed him to suborn, blackmail and seduce union activists of the regional committees of Aragón, Asturias, Andalucia and Catalonia into withdrawing their support from the so-called ‘collaborationist’ national committee. Between 1939

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1976: 8 NOVEMBER —CÉRET, PYRÉNÉES ORIENTALES —NOTES and 1949 SAC Central alone had sent Esgleas well over a million pounds sterling (in today’s money). Even Cerrada, up until 1950, fell for Montseny’s and Esgleas’s ideological humbug about the committees of the Interior betraying anarchosyndicalist principles.

6: Farquhar was convinced there was a lot more to Manzana than met the eye. A professional soldier and Master Marksman of Olympic standing, Manzana was an unlikely anarchist. Having examined the leather jacket Durruti was wearing when shot, it was clear to Farquhar that it was no accident. The bullet had entered from the left shoulder blade and exited through his floating ribs. An accidental shot might have had a horizontal or perhaps even an upwards trajectory, but never the other way around — and from behind. Farquhar thought that Manzana might also have been responsible for the death of his other close comrade, Francisco Ascaso, shot by a sniper during the CNT defence groups’ assault on the Atarazanas barracks on 19 July 1936. When the CNT defence groups overran the barracks they discovered Manzana in a cell — possibly after locking himself in. Taken to union HQ for questioning he was subsequently released at the specific request of the Generalitat government and attached, as military adviser, to what became known as the Durruti Column.

7: Esgleas’s ideological pig-headedness —and that of his Rue Belfort cabal —wasn’t confined to pronouncing anathema on the increasingly isolated CNT militants of the interior who continued political and armed resistance to the Franco regime with whatever allies wih whom they could usefully collaborate. Throughout the Nazi occupation of France, Esgleas disciplined and expelled CNT members working with the Allied special services in intelligence gathering, subversion, sabotage and armed resistance against the Nazis and the Milice.

Farquhar’s comrade, Francisco Ponzán Vidal, whose escape and evasion lines during the war saved the lives of thousands of resistance fighters and escaped prisoners of war, was the most outspoken and articulate proponent of this strategy.

Ponzán had arrived in France in February 1939, via Andorra, where he established a number of arms deposits before being arrested and interned in the La Vernet concentration camp. Assigned to work for a local farmer and an anti-fascist by the name of M. Benazet, he immediately began building and consolidating the new anarchist resistance infrastructure in the Eastern Pyrenees. Recruited into the British SIS in November 1939 by ‘Major Marshall’, through Juan Manuel Molina (‘Juanel’) (Defence Delegate of the clandestine National Committee headed by Esteban Pallaroles), Ponzán, with Farquhar and a number of other comrades, including Miguel García García, focused on organising a ‘stay-behind’ operation in preparation for the arrival of the Wehrmacht. Ponzán was wounded during a raid into Spain at the beginning of 1940 to spring comrades from the 127th Mixed Brigade of the 28th Division from the Belver de Cinca concentration camp.

Fortunately, his injuries were not serious.

Meanwhile, drawing on his CNT contacts cultivated over the years between the First World War and the Spanish Civil War, Marshall was liaising with Leonard Hamilton Stokes, the SIS’s recently appointed head of station in Madrid —and his deputy, Kenneth Benton — to fund communication lines and set up a resistance organisation in the event of the expected German invasion of Spain and Portugal.

By the autumn of 1940 Hamilton Stokes had provided Ponzán with two shortwave radio transmitters and funds to pay for safe houses, a printshop for propaganda and forging documents, organising intricate travel schedules, emergency routes — and civilian clothing. That August, through Robert Terres of French counter-intelligence, Ponzán became a registered agent of the internal

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 security service Travaux Ruraux (Rural Operations). In December that year, Ponzán and Farquhar moved to an apartment at 42 Rue de Limayrac in the La Côte Pavée district of Toulouse where Marshall introduced them to Captain Ian Garrow, another Glaswegian, and a number of officers from the 51st Highland Division.

Marooned at Dunkirk, and against all the odds, the soldiers had made their way south to Vichy-controlled Marseilles where they had been living in conditions of ‘semi-arrest’, lodged on parole, rather than imprisoned. Marshall and Garrow were looking to establish routes through the Pyrenees for escaping POWs, aircrew evaders and agents going in and out of France, and Ponzán’s ready-made network of experienced passeurs or ‘ferrymen’, and guerrilla fighters which extended across the Eastern Pyrenees was precisely what they were looking for. This was the start of what was to become known as the ‘Pat O’Leary Network’. Soon after being recruited as an agent by Marshall, Ponzán wrote to Esgleas in March 1940 asking the General Council of the MLE to commit, formally, to working with the Allied Intelligence and special services against the Nazis. ‘No deal!’ was Esgleas’s curt reply. He refused to support even the humanitarian work of the escape and liaison lines: ‘Spain’s workers can only retain their independence by standing above the war’ he said. On 17 February 1941 Esgleas’s General Council issued a circular officially chastising members of the CNT, FAI or FIJL who collaborated with the Allies, whom they denounced as ‘undesirable and suspect’. Esgleas originally instructed Ponzán and ‘Juanel’ to have nothing to do with the Allied intelligence services as early as 26 March 1940. It was exactly the same ideological antiinterventionist ‘plague on all their houses’ argument Farquhar had heard deployed so often by many of the prominent CNT leaders during the First World War, many of whom were on the take from the Germans. So disgusted was Ponzán with Esgleas’s refusal to support the Resistance that the Aragonese teacher broke off all contact with the Toulouse-based MLE Council. In reality he should have expected nothing less from Esgleas whose hatred of him and his colleagues, especially Ortíz and Joaquín Ascaso, dated back to the time of the Consejo de Aragón in 1936-37, the sole surviving beacon of anarchist integrity that had exposed so clearly the shameful and inexcusable political and military compromises made in the rearguard by the CNT’s notables: Marianet, Montseny, Esgleas and García Oliver.

SIS operations in the Eastern Pyrenees were based in the town of Foix in Ariège and were coordinated by Commander Hinman, Captain Philips, Farquhar’s old friend from the First World War, Major Marshall, Captains José Estevez Coll and Pedro Marcos Bilbao a Spanish Merchant Marine officer, José Villa Briga Abizando, Antonio Castreo de la Torre, Onofre García Tirador. Apart from Ponzán, Marshall had 13 agents working for him, all members of the FAI-CNT, including Juanel and Agustin Remiro, Saturnino Carod and Francisco Denís, ‘El Català’ (Renseignements Généraux, 2 December 1948, ADHG Toulouse — 2692W140 Clandestines).

Ponzán was betrayed and arrested in 1943 then murdered and his body burned by the Gestapo in Buzet-sur-Tarn in August 1944. After the Liberation he received posthumous commendations from Atlee, Eisenhower and De Gaulle, who awarded him the Medal of the Resistance, the Croix de Guerre, with palms, and made him a captain in the French army — a position that probably had him turning in his grave. Hamilton Stokes, incidentally, also —against British ambassador Sir Samuel Hoare’s express instructions — maintained regular contact with Celedonio Perez Bernardo and, later, Eusebio Azanedo Grande, secretaries of the CNT National Committee in Spain.

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1920: 1 JANUARY - SLOUCHING TOWARDS BETHLEHEM

Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight; somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

W.B. Yeats (‘Second Coming’)

The times were out of joint. Political life was rotting across Europe, and not just in Denmark: the malaise spread like ink on blotting paper — from Norway to Spain, from Portugal in the West to the Urals in the East. The New Year began with the rout of the Red Army at the gates of Warsaw. Everywhere the labour movement was divided between social democracy, libertarian socialism, Bolshevik communism — and 17

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proto-fascism —facing a series of unmitigated disasters in the struggle against state and capitalism. Revolutionary movements we believed to be indestructible and unstoppable at the beginning of 1919 were now crushed —brutally, as in greater Hungary and Germany, or channelled into reformism or fascism, as in Italy, or Leninist Bolshevism as in Russia.

In Bavaria and Germany, reaction prevailed with the ruthless suppression of the workers’ movement and its most prominent spokespersons — Rosa Luxembourg and Karl Liebnicht — murdered by the right-wing Frei Korps militia. Miklós Horthy’s dictatorship wiped out Hungary’s Republic of Councils in three months, while in Portugal the republican and revolutionary movements were beaten back into the shadows. The situation in Spain was far from unique.

In Barcelona the employers’ lockout continued. But at the point when some of the more moderate patronal members appeared to be weakening, a ‘timely’ infernal device exploded outside the home of a small employer called Llansana, effectively strengthening the bosses’ resolve. No one was injured in the blast, the only damage being a slightly scorched front door, but it added to the all-pervasive sense of fear and dread. None of the anarchist groups claimed responsibility for the bombing; to us it looked suspiciously like the work of patronal provocateurs.

With the exception of Bravo Portillo, the murderers of Pau Sabater remained at large and unpunished. We knew who they were, however, and where they lived! One was a vigilante industrialist called Joan Serra, the driver of one of the cars used the previous July in the kidnapping and murder of El Tero. We heard he was swaggering around, brazenly hinting at his role in that tragedy.

Medín Martí, one of Pau Sabater’s close friends, was determined to settle accounts with Serra and had been monitoring his movements.

Martí’s small affinity group consisted mainly of three compañeros — the two Solteras brothers and another by the name of Campa. Bringing him to justice, however, required the help of a few more people, so Medín approached Archs who suggested Laureano and myself. We were more than happy to help bring one of El Tero’s murderers to book. Martí explained his plan to us in the back room of the Tastevins on the evening of Saturday 3 January.

The following morning, Sunday 4 January, we took up our positions at the junction of the Carrers de Badajoz and Mataró (now the Carrer Pedro IV) around 11:45 and waited for Serra to return home from Mass.

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1920: ATTEMPT ON ‘EL NOI’

Soon after mid-day Medín Martí signalled to us that Serra’s car was approaching along the Mataró Road. As it reached the junction where we were waiting, the car slowed, almost to a halt. When it was only a few yards away we stepped off the pavement and ran towards it, our Stars drawn, ready to open fire. Unfortunately, Serra’s quickwitted driver saw us running towards him and accelerated over the crossroads, causing a multiple pile-up with the oncoming traffic in his wake.

In spite of this contretemp, which left Laureano and me in the middle of the street shooting at the rear of the disappearing vehicle, Martí leapt onto the running board and fired a number of shots into the passenger compartment, before jumping to safety as the car careered into a wall. Believing Serra dead or mortally wounded, we ran off down a side street and made our way to a safe house in the nearby Carrer de Pujades where we stayed for a few hours until the initial hue and cry had died down. Serra, meanwhile, who was not dead but seriously wounded, was taken to the Bartrina Clinic where he survived for three days before dying from his wounds.

The employers’ pistoleros took immediate revenge by targeting Salvador Segui. It happened so soon after the attack on Serra — the same evening in fact — that it was probably pre-planned.

Most evenings, El Noi walked from his apartment in the old town along the Carrer de San Pablo to the café Español in the Paral.lel where he and his friends — anarchists, and leftist and liberal writers, including the noted Basque Pío Baroja — socialised and debated all manner of subjects in get-togethers known as tertúlias.

The pistoleros waited for their victim at a café on the Carrer de San Pablo, and when El Noi came along — on the other side of the street —his would-be killers didn’t bother to cross the road to confront him. Standing up they opened fire from their pavement table. ‘Sugar Boy’, however, who was always prepared for such an eventuality, threw himself to the ground the moment the first shot whistled past his ear and ricocheted off the wall behind him, drew his own gun and fired back at his attackers.

For a few minutes the Carrer de San Pablo took on the appearance of Fremont Street in Tombstone, outside the O.K. Corral, with guns blazing, and passers-by shouting, screaming and running for cover. Having lost the element of surprise, however, the would-be assassins didn’t hang around, and fled before the police arrived on the scene.

Once the firing stopped, Segui rose to his feet, unflustered, 19

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picked up his hat, dusted himself down, and continued on his way to the tertúlia as though nothing had happened.

Witnesses who saw Segui fall and didn’t wait to see him get up again assumed he was dead and, so, the story of the anarchosyndicalist’s demise spread like wildfire, reaching his friends in the café el Español before he did. When he finally walked through the door his anguished friends were both stunned and relieved to learn that the reports of his death had been greatly exaggerated.

In the wake of the attempt on Segui’s life, Archs came up with a plan to settle accounts with Félix Grauperá, the patronal’s man with the histrionic personality disorder. It was common knowledge that Grauperá met the Conde de Salvatierra every evening in the civil governor’s office to discuss the progress or otherwise of whatever villainous plots they had in hand. After their meeting, the patronal boss returned home, by car, following a regular route along the Via Layetana to his apartment at 35 Baixa de Sant Pedro.

The Grauperá atentat took place on Monday, 5 January, the eve of Three Kings’ Day, Spain’s equivalent of Christmas Day, the day after the assassination attempt on Segui. Despite the poverty of Barcelona’s working-class families, the city centre streets were packed with the affluent bourgeoisie on ostentatious spending sprees for the festivities.

Grauperá’s car arrived on schedule with the patronal boss seated next to the driver and his colleague, Modesto Batlle, squeezed in the back between two police bodyguards. As the limousine slowed to turn into the narrow Baixa de Sant Pedro, Archs jumped on one of the car’s running boards, while Figueras jumped onto the other; they emptied their magazines into the car’s interior. Laureano and I came up from behind, firing into the rear of the car. Other comrades waited outside Grauperá’s apartment in case they escaped our ambush. They weren’t needed. Convinced that the main man was dead, Archs and Figueras leapt off off the wildly careering car and escaped through the maze of alleyways and lanes of the barri Santa Catalina. Laureano and I left the scene as unobtrusively as possible by separate routes.

Everyone in the car had, indeed, been hit, but only one was seriously injured, a police bodyguard who later died. Grauperá’s life was saved by a quick-thinking passing soldier who jumped behind the wheel and drove the injured passengers to the nearest hospital.

Other than the policeman, the rest were walking wounded. So many men, so many bullets. As they say, God laughs at those who make plans, especially our plans it seemed. As Rabbie Burns mused, to a mouse whose home he had disturbed while ploughing an Ayrshire furrow.

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1920: BARCELONA —A STATE OF EMERGENCY But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane, In proving foresight may be vain: The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Gang aft a-gley, An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain For promis’d joy.

The Grauperá attack kicked over a hornets’ nest in official and unofficial circles. Barcelona’s oligarchs were divided as to how to respond. Some wanted immediate revenge, some greater police protection, others demanded a greater crackdown on what laughingly passed for civil liberties at the time.

Police Commissioner Arleguí was the first ‘victim’. Summoned toan urgent meeting with captain general Milans del Bosch, he was subjected to a humiliating public tongue-lashing. According to Sometent leader Bertrán i Musitu, the police commissioner had advance warning about the attack from the Baron de Koenig, and chose to do nothing to prevent it. Arleguí left the meeting fuming and embarrassed.

Taking matters into his own hands, Milans del Bosch declared a state of emergency. Placing the city under military control, he made himself Barcelona’s de facto dictator —without consulting Madrid, an arbitrary action that triggered angry protests from across the spectrum of Spain’s liberal establishment. They demanded that he withdraw his ‘state of siege’ edict, denouncing it as an unnecessary provocation more likely to escalate political and social tensions than resolve them.

Milans, as usual, ignored his critics; when reprimanded by his superior, the minister of war, he replied with trademark petulance that he would do exactly as he pleased in the best interests of Catalonia and the state, not those of Madrid’s liberal politicians.

Rumours spread that Milans was about to be replaced as captain general, triggering discontent not only in the barracks, but also among the Sometent who declared themselves to be on a ‘state of alert’.

Milans, however, had friends at court, including the king, who wielded considerably more power and influence than the government and parliament. In the end the talk of dismissal proved to be idle chatter.

Ironically, Milans’s career was saved by the actions of an anarchist group. In the early hours of 9 January, Aragonese anarchists and soldiers from the 9th Artillery Company, led by Manuel Giménez and Ángel Chueca, seized control of the Carmen barracks in Zaragoza, raising the red and black flag, and declaring Libertarian Communism.

The action had been inspired by the example of the October Revolution of 1917, when the Russian people took to the streets to rid 21

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themselves of their autocratic rulers, and embarked on the great social upheaval that became the ill-starred Russian Revolution. With Spain so similar in so many ways — an agrarian and semi-feudal society — if a social revolution could be successful in Russia, why not here?

Not only did we believe that a new world was possible — and necessary —we believed it to be imminent. All that was required was that committed people like ourselves pushed that little bit harder. It was in Zaragoza that this particular push came to shove with the first declaration of Libertarian Communism in Spain since the end of the Great War. But Zaragoza wasn’t yet ready for revolution, and the Carmen barracks wasn’t about to become Spain’s Winter Palace.

The outside support promised to the Zaragozan comrades never materialised, which left the insurrectionists isolated inside the barracks facing a situation more reminiscent of the Battle of the Alamo than the Winter Palace. The government rushed in army and Guardia Civil units by train and road, and by the end of the afternoon of 9 January the uprising had been quashed and three rebels were dead: Ángel Chueca, a second lieutenant and a sergeant.

Military justice was summary, and brutal. A drumhead court martial convened in the barrack square that same afternoon sentenced two corporals and five privates to death. Of these only the privates were executed, one of whom, a compañero by the name of Oliva, died in agony with a bullet lodged in his spine. Unable to stand, they tied him to a chair and shot him, like James Connolly.

To the autocrats, the bourgeoisie and the oligarchs, the events in Zaragoza were proof positive of the existence of a widespread revolutionary conspiracy to overthrow the status quo. While the upper classes needed no convincing, middle class fears were ratcheted up to the maximum by the nightmare scenarios conjured up daily by rightwing journalists and populist firebrand politicians such as Alejandro Lerroux, who claimed Spain was being subjected to a sustained and widespread Bolshevik plot to subvert the army and society: ‘The soviets are hammering on our barracks doors,’ he proclaimed.

The end result was that the prime minister — under pressure from the king and the autocrats — rubber-stamped Milans’s selfappointment as absolute ruler of Catalonia and, on 12 January 1920, Barcelona’s civil governor, the Conde de Salvatierra, confirmed that the merchant city was in a ‘state of war’, and immediately suspended all constitutional guarantees and civil liberties. These were not restored until 31 March, 1922.

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1920: THE LOCK-OUT - WEEK 5

In Zaragoza, in the aftermath of the Carmen barracks mutiny, the editor of the Heraldo de Aragón, the main regional newspaper, ran a witch-hunt against the CNT and local anarchist groups with editorials demanding the harshest possible measures against the rebels and their associates, whom it named and excoriated. The ringleaders identified by the Heraldo editor included two anarchists, both members of the local CNT defence committee, whom the editor alleged were behind the plot with Chueca, an allegation that led to both men being arrested and charged with conspiracy to military rebellion.

A few days after the drumhead executions of those involved in the attempted insurrection — and at the peak of the Heraldo de Aragón’s anti-anarchist campaign — two brothers, the anarchists Domingo and Joaquín Ascaso, walked into the editor’s office and shot him dead at his desk, then left, unchallenged, an action that silenced that particular reactionary press campaign, for a time anyway. The remaining death sentences were commuted and the civilian comrades were later pardoned and released.

In Barcelona, the lockout, now in its fifth week, clearly wasn’t working, but Milans del Bosch’s ‘state of war’ proclamation did provide the authorities with the means with which to weaken the CNT. One legal requirement of the ‘state of war’ was that unions were obliged to provide the authorities with a list of the names of all committee members, something that the CNT ignored, as it had done on all previous occasions, on the obvious grounds that the police would use the list to arrest, blacklist and intimidate its members.

Failure to fulfil its ‘legal obligations’, however, meant the union was placing itself outside the law, a situation that permitted Milans del Bosch to dissolve the Catalan Regional del Trabajo of the CNT, close its locals and workers’ centres, ban all public meetings and demonstrations — and arrest over a thousand militants. Most ‘influential militants’, such as Pestaña, Segui and Piera, suspecting a clampdown was imminent, had, however, escaped to neighbouring provinces where Milans’s and Salvatierra’s writ didn’t run.

Militants weren’t the only victims. Barcelona Special Brigade officers also arrested Jesús Ulled and Guerra del Río, two prominent union lawyers, on trumped-up charges of intimidating witnesses, but were obliged to release them after a few days due to the enormous public outcry and political pressure from Madrid. Salvatierra tried to dismiss their arrests as an administrative error, claiming that it was due to a denunciation received from Tomás Benet, legal advisor to the patronal, a claim Benet later denied in a letter to Guerra del Rio. 23

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One unforeseen consequence of the flight of Barcelona’s ‘influential’ militants at this time was that those who replaced them on the committees were younger, angrier and more radical militants who were, on the whole, more sympathetic to the action groups and defence cadres. They were, also, mostly unknown to the police, young men and women who believed in fighting for Libertarian Communism in the ‘here and now’, preferring revolutionary direct action to sterile negotiations with the self-serving representatives of a brutal capitalism and a ferociously cruel terrorist state.

By the end of the third week of January it finally dawned on the employers that the CNT was unlikely to concede defeat. Despite all the financial and social pressures ranged against them, not one cenetista had handed in their union card or exchanged it for a Libres card.

Due to our inexperience, however, at this point we, the young militants, made a serious tactical error. Our strategy, until then, had been to transform the lockout into a general strike, thereby turning it to the union’s advantage. What we hadn’t accounted for, however, was the degree of apathy and despair that by this time had permeated the wider workers’ movement — that and the fact that many of our members had reached the end of their economic tether with regard to their capacity to endure what was a truly intolerable situation. Some workers with large families owed as much as 1,000 pesetas for their bread bill alone — and all this at a time when the price of bread was one real a kilo! Not even the most sympathetic of shopkeepers and cooperatives could provide open-ended credit in that dire situation.

And it wasn’t just our fellow unionists who were in bad shape; the middle classes had also reached breaking point, having lived off of their savings and used up whatever other resources they had over the previous five weeks. Continuing with the lockout meant ruin for the majority.

On both sides. therefore, there was a desire to end the lockout and get back to work, and Grauperá was well aware of this prevailing mood among the workers and the bourgeoisie. If one patronal member broke ranks and opened up, others would quickly follow suit.

The patronal leaders had to prevent this at all costs, but they couldn’t be seen to abandon the lockout while the CNT remained in existence — underground or not — or the union would appear to have won.

The most elegant solution, therefore, was to have the authorities force the employers to lift the lockout, to which the patronal would agree, thereby allowing them to pull a diplomatic victory from the jaws of a certain public relations defeat.

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1920: DURRUTI IN SAN SEBASTIAN

Meanwhile, through Miró y Trepat, the employers had been pressing the Baron de Koenig to infiltrate his agents and provocateurs into the various union sectors to identify and eliminate the agitators and militants who were fomenting industrial action on their shop floors.

Most employers had no idea as to who Miró’s ‘facilitator’ was, nor did they care —all they knew was that he had access to ‘someone’ who could ‘get things done’ by ‘extra-legal’ means without compromising them or provoking official interference.

Miró was a regular visitor at the Baron’s offices at 80 Paseo de Gracia, but the gullible oligarch didn’t appreciate that most of the information fed to him by the Baron — and everyone else who subscribed to his ‘intelligence digests’ — was lies. The man was a fantasist and a conman who was stringing everyone along, including Milans del Bosch, Arleguí and Miró i Trepat, telling them all exactly what they wanted to hear — that they were the targets and victims of a global conspiracy by fiendishly efficient and fanatical demonic forces with cells and operatives everywhere.

Buenaventura Durruti was twenty-four at the time, another of the many young people who, like me, had been inspired and moved by the revolutionary fervour of the time. As Wordsworth described it: ‘Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive. But to be young was very heaven!...’

Since escaping from military prison the previous year, Durruti had been living and working in Paris, but when friends wrote telling him how imminent the revolution appeared to be in Spain he decided it was time to return and throw in his lot with the struggle at home.

Durruti arrived in San Sebastian in January 1920 and immediately contacted contacted the local anarchist group, one of whose veterans was thirty-four-year-old cabinet maker Manuel Buenacasa. In spite of the age difference the two men hit it off and the older man became Durruti’s close friend and political mentor. Buenacasa also found him a job in a small engineering workshop in Rentería.

Anxious to learn everything he could about anarchist ideas and history, Durruti spent much of his free time in the union library, reading and discussing those ideas with the older comrades, especially Buenacasa. Durruti wasn’t emotionally temperamental, confrontational or disputatious, but he couldn’t abide wafflers or bullshitters.

Well-balanced and not at all stubborn, fanatical or doctrinaire, the ‘big man from León’ was that unusual thing —a listener, someone who was genuinely interested in hearing all points of view. What I found particularly endearing about him — when we met later — was 25

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his readiness to admit that he might be wrong. He was always willing to accept his opponent’s arguments, insofar as they appeared reasonable, which was one explanation as to why he was held in such high esteem by his fellow workers in the Metalworkers’ Union.

Everyone who knew him recognised his integrity. Clearly he wasn’t motivated by personal gain or advancement; and it was because of this he was always being asked to take on positions of responsibility within the union, offers that he consistently refused.

Rank and kudos held no attraction for him. Intuitively aware of the insidious and corrupting nature of power, Durruti appreciated the importance of constant vigilance against the relentless encroachments of sclerotic bureaucratisation. He believed that the most important role an anarchist could play — other than acquiring an education and knowledge, teaching, leading by moral example, fighting for justice and preparing the groundwork for Libertarian Communism — was to maintain constant pressure on those in authority. He was the embodiment of Robert Burns’s ‘honest man’: A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, an’ a’ that; But an honest man’s aboon his might, Gude faith, he maunna fa’ that!

For a’ that, an’ a’ that, Their dignities an’ a’ that; The pith o’ sense, an’ pride o’ worth, Are higher rank than a’ that.

Then let us pray that come it may, (As come it will for a’ that,) That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth, Shall bear the gree, an’ a’ that.

For a’ that, an’ a’ that, It’s coming yet for a’ that, That Man to Man, the world o’er, Shall brothers be for a’ that.

His closest friends were mostly Aragónese and Guipúzcoans from Zaragoza and San Sebastian: Elizondo; Mangado; Gregorio Suberviela, a mine foreman; Marcelino del Campo, a bricklayer and the son of a teacher; Ruíz, the son of a stationmaster; and Albadetrecu, who came from a middle class family from Bilbao. They were the core of the anarchist affinity group that came to be known as ‘Los Justicieros’.

Like most anarchist affinity groups, these young men hadn’t come together by chance; they had been politicised and radicalised by the turmoil of the times, and the abysmal conditions of the society in 26

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1920: LOS JUSTICIEROS

which they lived — a society without political safety valves or means of restraining the excesses of the exploiters and oppressors. What bound them together was the hope and belief that they —we —could change the world and re-launch humanity on the path of social justice, equitability — and happiness.

No one in the Spanish government or from among its degenerate ruling classes gave any credence to the idea that the country’s social problems could be resolved by addressing the conditions that gave rise to them. Social disharmony, in their view, wasn’t the result of economic conditions or social injustices; it was purely and simply the result of criminal conspiratorial activities by malefactors: freemasons, liberals and anarchists.

Madrid, in the meantime, had appointed a new military governor to Vizcaya — Lt Colonel Faustino José Regueral, a soldier as ruthless as Martínez Anido and Arleguí. Asked by a journalist how he intended dealing with the ‘social question’, Regueral replied that he would begin by ‘interrogating’ prisoners personally, and by introducing detención gubernativa —suspending habeus corpus —which would allow him to hold ‘suspects’ without bringing them before the courts for at least 120 days — or for years even — without charge.

The Grauperá attack had the desired effect among the big employers and the upper reaches of Barcelona society. Unfortunately, the Baron de Koenig turned out to be the main beneficiary, at least in the short term. Thriving in the climate of fear he had done much to create, the Baron — who, to all intents and purposes, now had the field of highlevel private security to himself — found himself inundated with contracts to provide bodyguards and security services to almost every major and medium-sized employer in Greater Barcelona. This was, of course, after he had presented them with ‘risk assessment’ reports based on ‘confidential information’ from his unattributed ‘secret sources’ which claimed that anarchists and disaffected employees in their workforce were either preparing to murder them and their families in their beds or foment strikes in their factories.

So well did the Baron benefit from the Grauperá incident that within two months he had moved from his office at 80 Paseo de Gracia and set himself up himself in a prestigious new building in the Rambla de las Flores. His employees —known as the ‘Banda Negra’, the ‘Black Gang’ —criminals, delinquents, low-lifes, off-duty soldiers and retired or freelancing secret policemen —numbered around seventy men and women.

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But, there was a price to pay. The haar of secrecy and anonymity that had previously surrounded and protected the Baron was lifting.

The wider public was becoming aware that someone sanctioned by the powers-that-be was operating beyond the margins of the law, directing the employers’ campaign of violence. Few knew the full extent of the problem. The Baron took great care to maintain a low public profile and, of course, because of the censorship, no questions could be raised in public.

Meanwhile, an increasingly frustrated and paranoid Milans del Bosch made a serious strategic misjudgement: he attempted a coup d’état without first gaining the backing of the army. The only support he could count on was that of his own general staff and the Barcelona garrison. The king — despite his personal friendship and loyalty towards the general — couldn’t publicly support Milan’s pronunciamento and, so, left him to take the consequences.

On 5 February, despite strong pressure from the extreme right — the Carlists and the Sometent — Prime Minister Romanones formally asked the king to dismiss Milans for what he described, euphemistically, as ‘insubordination’. Milans, however, always the faithful servant, pre-empted the ignominy of being sacked by resigning first in order to avoid embarrassing the king. Three months later he was head of the king’s household, his replacement at the capitanía being General Valeriano Weyler, a veteran of all of Spain’s recent wars.

With Milans out of the way, Barcelona’s civil governor, the Conde de Salvatierra, ordered the lifting of the lockout, effectively notching up another notable victory for the CNT— and substantially enhanced the union’s standing among the workers, much to the patronal’s annoyance.

Weyler, the new captain general, kept his distance from the Catalan oligarchs, having been ordered by Madrid not be drawn into their labyrinthine political intrigues, which made him unpopular within the Catalan establishment. Even his fellow officers snubbed him.

Although the lockout was officially over, the repression continued at the same level of intensity as previously. Compañeros were arrested, beaten up and held incommunicado in local police stations before being taken to the Modelo or the stinking prison hulks moored in Barcelona harbour.

In the course of one week there were fourteen bombings, and machinery in eight factories damaged in a coordinated series of sabotage operations. Whether this was the work of some of the anarchist action groups in Barcelona at the time or indeed the Baron’s ‘Black Hand’ gang sowing havoc and confusion, no one can say for 28

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1920: THE BARON GETS CARTE BLANCHE

sure, but it certainly wasn’t the work of any of the action groups associated with the CNT’s Regional Defence Committee.

The likelihood is that some of it was the Baron’s doing.

Desperate to increase his cash flow, he no doubt sensed that the good times in Barcelona were coming to an end; it was time to think of moving on. It was definitely his men though who, in February, murdered the French industrialist Theodore Genny, in his own home, for refusing to pay protection money. The fact that the victim was French created a diplomatic incident and led to questions in the French parliament, and brought considerable pressure down on Arleguí from Madrid and the French Embassy.

Months later, the police arrested Victoria Sabater, ‘Bixto’, Martín Martí and Josep Peris, all of whom confessed to Genny’s murder, claiming the Baron paid them 500 pesetas to do the deed. All three were convicted and garrotted, but by that time the Baron was long gone. It was a strange case though because for most of his life the Baron was on the payroll of the Deuxième Bureau de l'État-Major Général, France’s external military intelligence agency.

Determined to bring to justice the politician primarily responsible for the repression, on 24 February, two days after Genny’s murder, the action groups tried to blow up the express train carrying the Conde de Salvatierra to Madrid, where he was due to report to the king on the situation in Barcelona. The bomb failed to detonate. From that point on the struggle grew more intense, with increased social agitation, more localised strikes and violent attacks on employers, foremen and scabs.

Arleguí gave the Baron carte blanche to do whatever was necessary to destroy the CNT. Until that time the police commissioner’s connection with the Baron had been so secret that the only police officer aware of the relationship was his trusted point-man, Inspector León. Arleguí appointed two more Special Brigade officers to liaise with the Baron — García Porrero and Salvador Más. Anxious as ever to please his employer and demonstrate his efficiency, the Baron told Inspector León that he had identified one of the CNT Defence Committee’s main conspiratorial centres — the bar El Rápido, a workers’ bar in the Ronda San Antonio. And, of course, when police officers, led by Inspector León and the Baron’s Black Gang auxiliaries under Antonio Soler, El Mallorquín, raided the bar on the afternoon of 27 March, they discovered a cache of small arms conveniently hidden in the toilet — weapons that Soler had planted a few hours earlier.

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Among the anarchists arrested in the bar that day was Ácrata Vidal, an elderly CNT shop steward who worked on the newspaper La Publicidad, whom they pistol-whipped there and then in the bar until he collapsed unconscious on the floor.

The apparent success of this raid boosted the Baron’s standing enormously and it wasn’t long before his gunmen began operating openly as police auxiliaries, even making arrests on their own initiative.

An example of this occurred on 1 April when El Mallorquín — Soler — led the Baron’s men on an official police raid on an apartment at No. 5 Carrer de Parlamento, where they arrested three CNT militants — Joan Rovira, Antonio Aragay and Miguel San Juan — whom they claimed constituted the clandestine committee of the Graphic Arts Union which, at the behest of the newspaper publishers’ organisation, was their principal target.

The raid was a set-up by the Baron to prove to his paymasters his ability to identify and neutralise union militants. On the Baron’s instructions, a traitor by the name of Bernat Armengol — a hitherto trusted and long-standing cenetista and a former secretary of the CNT Woodworkers’ Union — offered the three men a job and arranged to meet them in one of their homes to discuss pay and conditions.

Armengol never appeared; it was Soler and his thugs who turned up and arrested the men. But, instead of taking them to a police station to be interrogated and charged, the unionists were removed to the Baron’s offices on the Paseo de Gracia where they were pistolwhipped and questioned under torture before being taken to police headquarters, where they were formally charged and committed to prison.

Next day, the Libres president in the barrio San Andrés, Tomás Vives, a former cenetista and now a Fabra y Coates factory foreman, was shot dead. His killing marked the start of an inter-union war that was to continue for years.

Salvador Seguí was another prominent militant who took off on his travels that Spring. First to Tarragona, the new base of the againclandestine Catalan Regional Committee. From there he embarked on a lengthy speaking tour of Andalusia and Levante, which ended in November with his arrest on charges of incitement. He had spoken at 110 public meetings, and made many powerful enemies in the process.

The Baron de Koenig, meanwhile, was growing increasingly feckless, as can be seen by his open participation in police raids, targeting militants of the Graphic Arts Union. Slowly the Defence Committee began piecing together snippets of information about the Baron’s 30

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activities, but it was incomplete and didn’t reveal the full extent of his operations. A useful source for us was Juan Fernández (alias ‘El Meco’), one of the Baron’s men — a drunkard who was usefully indiscreet when he had had a few glasses. The Baron had him killed when they discovered he had been talking to us. Before he died, however, Archs learned from El Meco that the businessman who was bankrolling the mercenaries was Miró i Trepat —Catalonia’s biggest construction boss and patronal string puller.

After discussions with Archs and the Defence Committee, Progreso Ródenas Dominguez —El Puni, the Valencian comrade from the Bravo Portillo ajusticiamento the previous September — and Volney, his brother, decided it was time that pistolero sponsor Miró i Trepat tasted his own medicine.

The Miró i Trepat assassination attempt took place on 20 April when he arrived for a meeting at the Baron’s then office at 80 Paseo de Gracia. Neither Laureano nor I was involved. The Valencianos wanted to handle this operation themselves.

Puni, Volney and his cousin, Armand, approached Miró on the pavement as he approached the building. Something about them, however, made the Baron’s bodyguards in the foyer suspicious and they immediately ran outside, opening fire at the would-be attackers.

Puni’s men fired back, wounding Miró i Trepat, but were forced to withdraw under the hail of gunfire.

The Baron reacted immediately. Furious at the effrontery of the attack on his patron on his own doorstep, he made it his top priority to identify and revenge himself on Miró’s would-be killers — before his clients lost confidence in him completely.

It didn’t take long; it was the traitor Bernat Armengol who baited the Baron’s trap.

The Baron instructed Armengol to contact the Ródenas brothers saying he had news of important information regarding Miró, and to arrange an urgent meeting at the Café Gran Imperio, on the corner of the Ronda San Pablo and Aldana. The Valencian comrades agreed to the meeting — and walked straight into the trap. Posted at strategic points around the cafe were the Baron, his men, and a dozen underccover Special Brigade officers led by the ubiquitous Inspector León.

Armengol was standing at the bar when the Ródenas brothers walked in. Instead of joining him, however, they moved straight to a table at the back, next to the kitchen door, and signalled him to join them. When the waiter had taken their order, the Baron indicated to 31

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his men to move in, but as they came through the door, Brownings at the ready, the compañeros recognised them and opened fire.

As they say in Govan, it was ‘murder polis’. Bullets flew everywhere along with the tables and chairs, as people scattered for cover. One girl was wounded in the shootout. Most of the compañeros, including the brothers, escaped through the kitchen. Puni himself, wounded, was wrestled to the ground in the street outside by a Social Brigade officer by the name of Tadeo Mateo.

Puni was taken to hospital with serious injuries, while two of the comrades who had remained behind to give covering fire were arrested and taken straight to the Modelo Prison, as was Bernat Armengol, who had been taken in in an attempt to maintain his cover.

Next day the press headlines claimed the shoot-out had been an anarchist plot to murder Inspector León, but to the Baron it was personal. He had sworn to kill the three brothers — Armando, Francisco and Volney Ródenas — who had escaped and gone to ground in their sister’s apartment.

By the time Social Brigade officers, led by the Baron, raided the sister’s apartment four days later, the compañeros were gone. Libertad Ródenas, the sister, was, however, intrigued by the fact that the Special Brigade’s raid was led by an middle-aged foreigner who spoke with a pronounced German accent — and who refused to identify himself.

Although the identity and role of the Baron himself remained hazy, the action groups had his pistoleros in their sights. One of the groups — which consisted of Joaquin Buigas ‘Pescater’, Alberto Manzano, Francisco Berro and Resituto Gómez — learned that this particular gang of pistoleros drank regularly at a bar in the Plaza del Peso de la Paja.

Shortly after the fiasco at the Café Gran Imperio and El Puni’s arrest, the Pescater group raided the bar, seriously wounding two of the Baron’s gang —María Sans and Pere Torrens i Capdevila. The other gunmen escaped unharmed, but, unfortunately, a cenetista, Resituto Gómez, was killed in the shootout.

The Baron’s men never used the bar again. After the gunfight it was known as a ‘cenetista’ bar.

The next target for the groups, later that same day, was Inspector Pascual Mola, a particularly vicious Social Brigade officer whom they shot dead outside Ataranzas police headquarters. His killing coincided with the wounding of a high court judge, Francisco Jímenez, as he was leaving his court in Tarrassa. Jímenez was notorious for handing down heavy prison sentences in cases involving cenetistas.

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1920: A TRAITOR EXPOSED

In reprisal, the Baron’s gang tried to murder Francisco Berro, a compañero whom they believed was involved in the Peso de la Paja shoot-out, but he escaped unscathed. Over the next few weeks the titfor-tat attacks increased steadily.

Meanwhile, Archs began to suspect that Armengol had betrayed Ródenas’s group so, while he was still on remand in the Modelo, Archs asked the compañeros on the inside to find out what they could from him. Taking him aside they accused him of being a police informer. Terrified, Armengol broke down and admitted everything, possibly under the psychological strain of betraying his former compañeros, but he also feared for his life — not least because the Baron, his erstwhile employer, had discovered that he had been having an affair with his wife. He also suspected that he had been set up by the Baron. As a result, Armengol told the compañeros everything he knew about de Koenig, his gang, the blackmail and extortion rackets, and his connections with Barcelona’s political and business elites.

All this came as a revelation to Archs —to everyone in fact. Until then the Baron had successfully covered his tracks as the éminence grise behind the pistolero campaign, which we all believed had been down to Arleguí and Miró y Trepat.

Armengol told us that another ‘trusted’ comrade, Manuel Grau, alias ‘El Mas’, was on the Baron’s payroll. Grau had turned informer after being arrested on a trumped-up charge by El Mallorquín in the barri Chino. Taken to Atarazanas’s subterranean cells, Grau was repeatedly beaten senseless by the Baron’s auxiliaries until he couldn’t take any more and told El Mallorquín everything he knew — which wasn’t all that much, really. But having once been compromised there was no going back.

Armengol’s story was reassuringin a way, inasmuch as it defined the limits of the Baron’s knowledge: it seemed that he hadn’t yet infiltrated the CNT’s committees and certainly none of the action groups. His information related mainly to gossip concerning rank and file activists on the factory floors and to dues collectors. Like most people, he was unaware, for example, that Pestaña was still alive — though he had left the country disguised as a priest and was in Russia.(1) In return for his full collaboration, the Defence Committee spared Armengol’s life —a promise that they honoured for three years, until they found he had reverted to his old habits. Soli editor Antonio Amador was later to publish a detailed account of Armengol’s story in the CNT newspaper.

The liberal Catalan press seized on Armengol’s revelations with 33

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gusto, using them as an opportunity to attack the Conde de Salvatierra, the governor, for his complicity in the Baron’s operations, and for the strategy of tension for which both were responsible.(2) One by one, de Koenig’s gangster associates were being implicated in the scandal and were pulling each other down: Conrado Giménez handed over documents compromising Emili Vidal Ribas, the head of the Sometent in District VI, while André Penon, a French secret service officer who had returned to France, sent sworn testimony about the Baron’s terrorist activities to the Catalanista politicians. The net was tightening around de Koenig.

In June 1920 miners working for the British Rio Tinto Company in Huelva province went on strike. The employers, however, believing their large coal reserves gave them the advantage, refused to negotiate with the unions.

The strikers, mostly cenetistas, never learning from past mistakes, had hoped for some degree of solidarity from their fellow miners and transport workers of the ‘socialist’ UGT. But, as in 1917, the UGT leaders refused to call out their members among the transport workers, claiming that such an escalation might lead to a revolutionary general strike.

That was the end of any further talks of ‘unity of action’ with the UGT and its political wing, the PSOE (the Partido Socialista Obrero Español)— at least in syndicalist, moderate anarcho-syndicalist and communist-syndicalist circles. The anarchists and radical anarchosyndicalists had always been opposed to such collaboration.

The Rio Tinto miners were forced to capitulate after four months.

Things improved slightly when Eduardo Dato was replaced as prime minister by Manuel Allendesalazar, a more conciliatory conservative politician who attempted to introduce major reforms in an effort to reduce the social tensions that were tearing the country apart. Allendesalazar’s innovations included the creation of a Ministry of Labour, which gave cabinet status to Spain’s hitherto non-existent ‘industrial relations’. Another was the introduction of new rent and social insurance legislation.

More importantly, from the CNT’s point of view, Allendesalazar appointed a liberal Minister of the Interior who ordered the Conde de Salvatierra to release the remaining 920 cenetistas held in the Modelo and the prison hulks in Barcelona harbour.

Salvatierra refused and was sacked. On 19 June, the Boletín Oficial announced his replacement, Federico Carlos y Bas. His first move was to order the release of the imprisoned anarchists and 34

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cenetistas, lift the censorship laws, allow the CNT to reopen its union halls and resume normal operations, turning a deaf ear to the nearhysterical demands by the Employers’ Federation ‘diehards’ — and the army — that he should continue his predecessor’s policy of repression.

The honeymoon was short-lived. In the same way that electoral democracy failed to bring about reform, neither did economic adjustments and union freedom bring about labour peace. A few days later, on 6 July, the first serious confrontations occurred between the anarchist groups and the Libres union’s gunmen: Juan Purcet, a Libres leader, was shot dead in the Carrer Carmen, on the corner of the Picalques. Two days later, Libres gunmen retaliated by killing Vicens Roig of the CNT’s Water, Gas and Electrical Workers’ union in the Plaça Urquinaona. The police arrested a well-known Libres activist and Carlist gunman by the name of Carlos Baldrich, otherwise known as ‘Onelo’, who was promptly released again without charge. From that point on a state of open war existed between the CNT and the Libres.

By the end of that summer, Dato’s reactionary conservative government was back in power. The domestic political situation was as explosive as it had ever been, with the biggest strike wave in Spanish history spreading across Andalucia and the Levante. Much of this militancy was due to the impact of anarchist and CNT organizers and speakers such as Salvador Segui, who spent that summer recruiting and proselytising across the agrarian south.

In Catalonia, the long lockout took its toll on what had been an extraordinary rate of growth for the CNT. Workers left the union in droves, or simply stopped paying their dues. Others defected to the Libres, and when the Libres’s’ leadership declared war against the CNT, it put many of them in the invidious position of having to betray former friends and comrades. Cenetista militants, in turn, looked to the confederal defence groups to protect them.

The affinity groups were better organised. Their focus was on eliminating the Baron’s gang. The first of his men to fall was Pere Torrens i Capdevila, one of the pistoleros wounded in the Peso de la Paja shootout, shot dead outside his home in la Sagrera by Alfonso Miguel, a cenetista, two days after being discharged from hospital.

The Baron’s gang, led by El Mallorquín, tried to restore their reputation by forcing the cenetistas to abandon the Peso de la Paja bar.

A massive gunfight ensued which turned the neighbourhood into a war zone, an incident that proved embarrassing for the Baron and Miró i Trepat, giving as it did the liberal press the opportunity to talk 35

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openly for the first time about the patronal’s pistoleros. The negative publicity created a serious political backlash against the employer’s gunmen and their sponsors.

The Baron’s situation was becoming increasingly difficult. While the new civil governor, Carlos y Bas, was investigating his network, the defence groups were picking off his gunmen one by one. Each hit brought us closer, especially after we killed his right-hand man El Mallorquín and two of his colleagues.

The publication of Armengol’s story in Solidaridad Obrera was the final straw. This was a fully documented account, corroborated by signed witness statements, as to how the Baron’s gang had staged fake assassination attempts against their own clients to ensure continued protection work for the ‘Black Gang’ — while at the same time laying the blame for the attacks on the CNT. The impact was immediate. Dato had no choice but to order the Baron’s immediate arrest. Milans del Bosch, Arlegui and Miró i Trepat could no longer shield their protégé other than to warn him of his impending detention, and by ensuring he got out of the country.

Decimated by arrests and ajusticiamentos, most of the Baron’s men fled to South America or disappeared. Three of his gang — Antonio Julletes, Manuel Martín and Julio del Clot —escaped to Paris, with the help of André Penon of the French Deuxième Bureau (one of his many employers). We asked the compañeros in Paris to trace him, but by that time the wily Baron had changed his name and we lost track of him, for a while — but we did catch up with him, eventually.

But, as my old granny used to say, ‘If it’s no’ bugs it’s fleas.’ No sooner had one villain exited the stage than another opportunist stepped into his boots. This time the bad guy was a former CNT lawyer, Pedro Homs, a deep penetration secret service agent whose gang turned out to be as bad as the Baron’s, probably worse. As they say, better the devil you know . . .

By the summer of 1920, Dato had abandoned all pretence of a pacification-by-persuasion policy and once again gave Barcelona’s ‘men of order’ a free hand over law and order in the city. On 5 July, the captain general, General Weyler, was promoted sideways — sacked and ennobled with the title of Duque de Rubi. His replacement, General Carlos Palanca y Canas, proved to be a puppet of the military governor, General Severiano Martínez Anido.

By mid-July, there was further trouble between the Libres and 36

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the CNT over union representation in the Soler i Domenech factory, a dispute that led to a gunfight which ended with only four survivors.

That same day someone shot dead Antoni Pons, a ‘diehard’ industrialist who was still refusing to rehire card-carrying CNT members. Shortly after that members of a CNT defence group tried to kill Juan Casanovas, an organiser with the Libres’ rubber workers’ union.

Barcelona’s former civil governor, José Maestre Laborde, the Conde de Salvatierra, had, in the meantime, retired from public office to his native Valencia where, having received countless death threats, he maintained a low profile. Salvatierra had been the architect of the ley de fugas legislation which had so far claimed the lives of thirty-three unionists. It was he who had driven the CNT underground and interned its members without trial. His famous line, one he lived to regret, was: ‘As long as I am in control here, no internees will be freed.’

Eduardo Dato, however, invited him to take up the post of Civil Governor in the Basque country. The action group that had been pursuing Salvatierra for months finally tracked him down in Valencia where he had been living as a recluse, a virtual prisoner, rarely venturing outside his house. When it was announced that he was to be brought out of retirement, two of its members went to kill him.

The Salvatierra ‘hit’ took place in the evening of 4 August as he, his wife and the twenty-year-old Marquesa de Tejares were returning in a hired ‘Milord’ Landau from a horse-and-carriage show along the breach promenade at el Grao. It was one of Salvatierra’s first ventures out in public since his return to Valencia in July. The invitation to reenter public life and the fact that he was leaving for San Sebastian the following day to meet the king and the prime minister had restored his confidence. What Salvatierra didn’t know was that he had been tracked all day.

Although it was widely known that Salvatierra’s life was in danger, Valencia’s civil governor refused to provide him with a bodyguard — a decision he later regretted.

It was dark when the Landau stopped at a level crossing to allow the Barcelona Express to go through. As the locomotive and carriages thundered past little could be heard above the deafening shriek of the locomotive’s whistle and the screeching of steel wheels on unlubricated iron rails. During those crucial moments the two action service compañeros — Ramón Casanelles and Pedro Mateu — appeared by the carriage doors. Only then did Salvatierra realise the men had guns and that they had come to kill him. Nothing could stop 37

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them. The sound of the shots that killed the Marquesa and seriously wounded the Conde de Salvatierra and his wife were drowned out by the noise of the passing train. No one heard a thing.

After the Express had gone by and the deed was done, the two compañeros hurried through the raised barrier and disappeared into the maze of streets adjoining the working-class barrio of El Cabañal.

The crossing-keeper’s daughter, who waited with them, suspected nothing. All she remembered was that they were well dressed, and that one of them dropped his straw boater as he ducked under the barrier’s red warning disc.

The level-crossing keeper himself recalled hearing noises, but had assumed they were fireworks. As for the driver of the Landau, Miguel Moua, he was too busy calming his frightened horses, and heard nothing suspicious until he turned round to see his passengers covered in blood. Whipping his horses to a gallop he immediately drove off in search of medical attention for his passengers.

Salvatierra died next day in hospital.

Casanelles and Pedro Mateu made it to the latter’s grandfather’s house in Valls, near Tarragona, where they stayed until the hue and cry died down. The fallout elsewhere, however, was substantial, with many compañeros being arrested by the Social Brigade, including Eusebio Carbó, who was later charged with Salvatierra’s murder.

The assassination of the former high-profile governor struck a serious blow to the confidence and self-esteem of the country’s political elite. This wasn’t just a case of Catalan workers putting the fear of God into Catalan industrialists —it was personal now. Nor was it a purely Catalan issue; Salvatierra was a grandee of Spain, and an important member of the ruling party.

With the country engulfed in a wave of strikes, Spain’s upper classes added their clamouring voices to those of the Catalan employers, insisting that Dato act decisively and forcefully against the CNT. Dato, however, refused to be panicked and stuck to his policy of social appeasement, at least for a time —until the patronal’s hard-line arguments finally won over the terrified Spanish and Catalan bourgeoisie.

Salvatierra’s assassination was a morale booster for the CNT defence cadres and action groups. Its success inspired a spate of other actions, including an attempt on the life of Juan Coll, a building contractor and a notoriously bad employer. Coll was aware of the dangers and recruited his own Somatent bodyguard who accompanied him everywhere. On 11 August, Coll’s convoy was ambushed by an action 38

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1920: THE KING IS COMING

group while returning home in the evening, but they were fought off by the better-armed Sometent; not, however, before Coll himself was seriously wounded.

Another important action in the advanced stages of planning at the time was the ‘settling of accounts’ with Faustino González Regueral, the governor of Bilbao. That, at least, was the idea, until an even more important target turned up on the doorstep, King Alfonso XIII whom, it was announced, was scheduled, unexpectedly, to visit San Sebastian to open the city’s luxurious new casino, the Gran Kursaal.

On hearing this news, three of the Los Justicieros group — Buenaventura Durruti, Gregorio Suberviela and Marcelino del Campo —rented a house directly across the road from the Gran Kursaal. From its basement, they began tunneling to a point beneath the centre of the hall, where the cream of Spain’s aristocracy, industry, commerce and the church would assemble to meet the king. The plan was to blow them all to kingdom come in one fell swoop.

Gregorio Suberviela Baigorry, a mining engineer, was responsible for the excavation while Durruti obtained the explosives.

During the latter stages, Laureano and I were asked by Archs to help with the digging. We agreed and left immediately by train for San Sebastian.

Everything went well until we reached the foundations of the Gran Kursaal, at which point our pace slowed almost to a standstill.

Another difficulty was disposing of the enormous amounts of earth and clay, which we brought out each day in coal sacks. These had to be removed in a lorry provided by a local comrade. We discussed emptying it through pouches in our trouser legs along the Paseo de la Concha, but that would have taken forever. It all came to a stop, however, when a nosy neighbour became suspicious that we weren’t the underpinners we claimed to be and informed the Guardia Civil.

One day, returning with provisions from the market, I became aware of a lot of unusual activity in the streets surrounding our house.

There were too many policemen and civil guards for comfort.

Hurrying to the house I told Durruti what I’d seen. Grabbing his jacket he went out to see for himself. Within five minutes he was back, and immediately called the others up from the tunnel to tell them that the ‘ball was on the slates and the game was a bogey’, as they say in Govan. The police were on to us.

‘Here, escocés,’ said Durruti, handing me a Star. ‘Take this and stick close behind me. We’ll make a run for it before they have a chance to move in and close the cordon around us.’

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Opening the door, Durruti looked carefully up and down the street for signs of immediate danger. It was deserted. Filing out, we walked quickly, two abreast, trying to appear nonchalant, but on reaching the corner, we were confronted by two policemen with rifles at the ready who ordered us to put our hands in the air.

Durruti and Suberviela, who were in front, already had their fingers on the triggers of the automatics in their pockets and opened fire. One policeman fell to the ground, wounded in the shoulder. The other, shot in the thigh, dropped his gun and slid down the wall, begging us not to shoot him. I picked up the wounded man’s rifle, while Marcelino collected the other man’s gun.

‘Run! Now!’ shouted Durruti. As he spoke, shots fired from nearby windows and doorways ricocheted around us, making me shift faster than Tam O’ Shanter’s old grey mare, Meg, across the bridge at Alloway, pursued by all the demons of hell. The army and Guardia Civil were out in force that day. I don’t know how any of us escaped being shot or caught that day, but luck was on our side and we managed to lose our pursuers in the town’s old quarter, after which we made our separate ways to the apartment of a trusted comrade.

Unfortunately, the police identified the ‘three musketeers’ — Durruti, Gregorio and Marcelino. Next morning Manuel Buenacasa came to the apartment to warn us that the police knew the identities of three of the ‘sappers’, but had no idea as to who Laureano and I were. They were now scouring the town for the anarchist ‘desperados’.

San Sebastian and Gijón were no longer safe, so Buenacasa had arranged for us to leave that evening by freight train for Zaragoza.

Marcelino and Gregorio were known ‘faces’ in Zaragoza, but it was Durruti’s first time in the Aragónese capital. Buenacasa gave us the address of Inocencio Piña, one of the Zaragozan ‘Justicieros’ who lived alone on the city outskirts.

Piña had left for work by the time we arrived in Zaragoza the following morning, so we made our way to the CNT premises in the nearby Carrer Agustín. It also doubled up as the local ateneo, the Centre for Social Studies, and had a decent library, similar to the one run by Eleuterio Quintanilla in Gijón, one of the original founders of the CNT in 1911.

Piña, a teacher, had been involved with the Centre since it opened; he also edited the local anarchist weekly, Acción Social Obrera.

A clever and clear-headed comrade, he was one of the first — as early as 1919 — to denounce the Bolshevik regime at that year’s CNT Congress. He was also one of the few who had protested against the CNT’s decision to affiliate to the Third International.

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The local comrades published two newspapers from the union premises: El Comunista and the regional CNT paper Cultura y Acción.

The concierge, a comrade, let us in when we told him we had been sent by Buenacasa. We sat around chatting for most day with some of El Comunista’s editorial staff who were preparing the latest issue of the paper. Its publisher, Santolaria, and editor, José Chueca —the brother of Ángel, killed in the seizure of the Carmen barracks — talked at length about the situation in Zaragoza in the aftermath of the uprising earlier that year, particularly about the case of Francisco Ascaso, the young comrade in jail awaiting confirmation — or commutation — of a death sentence for the killing of Gutierrez, the editor-in-chief of El Heraldo de Aragón, though he was, in fact, innocent. They had arrested the wrong Ascaso. Those responsible for killing the editor were Francisco’s cousin, Domingo, and Joaquin, his brother. They had shot the journalist because of the editorial hate campaign he had been running against those involved in the Carmen Barracks mutiny in January.

Later that evening, as we were about to return to Piña’s house, Santolaria advised us not to go near the Centre for Social Studies as it was under surveillance. Piña was at home when we arrived; with him was Rafael Torres Escartín, who was to become a close friend.

Over supper we learned that three local Justicieros — Manuel Sancho, Clemente Mangado and Albadetrecu — had recently been arrested and charged with the attempted murder of a prominent Zaragozan businessman by the name of José Hilario Bernal, a director of Quimica SA and a ‘diehard’ Roman Catholic Integrist.

Zaragoza seemed far too interesting a place for us to leave so soon so we decided to stay on for a time. Barcelona could wait. What was happening in Aragón was equally important.

With Durruti a time-served mechanic it wasn’t difficult for him and me to find work, which we did with the help of a local compañero, Excoriza, who ran a small machine shop. The rest — except Laureano, who returned to Barcelona —worked for Piña in his successful fruit and veg business.

Life in Zaragoza was relatively peaceful as far as union activity was concerned, certainly compared with Barcelona —at least to begin with. Union membership was growing steadily and anarchist papers could be sold openly on the street, but with the rise in the number of strikes and increasingly militant industrial actions, political tensions were being stretched to breaking point, particularly during the big electricians’ strike when the man responsible for sacking the strikers, municipal architect José Yarza, was shot on 23 August.

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Aragón’s political, ecclesiastical, industrial and aristocratic oligarchs were now as determined as their Catalan colleagues to break the CNT’s influence in the region. In their fevered imaginations they feared that Zaragoza was fast becoming another Barcelona, and to prevent this they began importing pistoleros from Barcelona. The architects of this folly were the provincial governor, the Conde de Coello y Portugal and the country’s godfather, Cardinal Soldevilla.

Even so, Zaragoza contrasted starkly with the situation in General Martínez Anido’s Barcelona, where harsh repression had forced the CNT back into clandestinity, with militants again being arrested, tortured, imprisoned and deported.

The action groups responded by targeting industrialists, foremen and strikebreakers; at no time, however, did the CNT ever contemplate emulating the indiscriminate ‘terror’ which was the hallmark of the pistoleros. The Defence Committee action groups, the ‘blue harlequins’ as we were sometimes called (because of the blue overalls we wore when ‘out on business’), always acted in self-defence, specifically targeting killers and their paymasters. The idea of collateral damage for us was not an option. If there was the slightest possibility of innocent people being injured, the action was always aborted, as happened on a number of occasions, especially in later years.

But, as Rabbie Burns used to say, ‘the best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agley’. There were a number of tragic mistakes and unforeseeable accidents made in which innocent people were killed or injured. One occasion that springs to mind occurred during our search for the rump of the Baron’s gang.

Through the grapevine we learned that Julio Laporta and María Sans, two particularly ruthless members of the Baron’s gang, had applied for passports and were planning to emigrate to Brazil. José María Sans had been a comrade, so a lot of people knew and despised him for his treachery. He had been among those wounded in the Plaza del Peso shootout.

The Baron’s two pistoleros were eventually cornered by Joaquín López and Joaquím Roura as they got off a tram at the corner of the Carrer Dos de Mayo and the Carretera de Ribas, in the Plaça Glorias Catalanas. They were on their way to collect their passports. Although seriously wounded, Sans drew his gun and fired wildly all around him, killing an innocent bystander in the process.

Trained and protected in the Jesuits’ Workers’ Centres of San José, the Libres gunmen were a serious problem for us. In the course of one 42

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night alone they massacred thirty-two unionists and wounded so many that the Hospital Clinico didn’t have sufficient beds to accommodate them all. Nor could Barcelona’s prisons cope with the number of unionist prisoners. Chain gangs with ‘strings’ of up to 200 men trudging in the direction of La Coruña became a common sight.

Murder — or ‘special administrative measures’ — had now become an integral part of the state’s strategy to prevent the judicial system being completely swamped, and by asking the military to reestablish law and order inside Barcelona, the politicians were implicitly condoning summary extra-legal executions.

Faced with this rise in working-class militancy, Dato tried to placate his critics by sacking his liberal interior minister, Francisco Bergamín, and replacing him with the ultra-reactionary Conde de Bagallal, a man as culpable for the repression in Barcelona, especially with regard to the ley de fugas, as Dato, Anido and Arleguí.

More repressive legislation followed, including the abolition of trial by jury in ‘crimes of blood’; judges being considered much harsher than juries in union cases. That particular piece of legislation had been triggered by a spate of acquittals of anarchists accused of ajusticiamentos targeting factory foremen, overseers, and most spectacularly, the patronal’s front man and architect of the lockout, Felix Grauperá. The setup bore remarkable similarities to the Diplock Courts that were established by the British government in Northern Ireland in 1972.

The anti-union legislation meant that the CNT, an illegal organisation, could neither collect nor bank its union dues. So, in an attempt to overturn these laws, Salvador Segui and Evelio Boal, the recently appointed National Secretary of the CNT, went to Madrid to discuss the matter with Largo Caballero, and to sign yet another meaningless pact with the UGT. This they did, on 3 September, at the Casa del Pueblo Madrileño, but on their own initiative — without having asked the CNT membership for a mandate. And so, on their return, Segui and Boal were forced to explain their cavalier action to the rank-and-file and to the Regional Committees, and to present their case, post facto, as to why they had acted so undemocratically. In the end they won the support they needed, albeit after the deed was done.

The action groups, meanwhile, continued to do their own thing.

Always their own men and women, they paid little attention to confederal committee agreements or protocols.

On 8 September, two compositors at the Libres’s newspaper La Publicidad — José Román and José Villalta — were shot dead as they left their print shop in the Carrer Provenza. Román died on the spot 43

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while Villalta was seriously injured. He died later in hospital.

According to the police, the attacker was Josep Saleta, alias El Nano.

Ironically, a ricocheting bullet accidentally wounded the Administrator of Barcelona’s Model Prison, Don Emilio Azorin, who was passing at the time, which made everyone believe he was the intended victim.

Meanwhile, the hard-line patronal employers centred around Miró i Trepat were growing increasingly frustrated and dissatisfied with Dato’s inability to deal with the CNT. As well as the much-discussed and publicised pact with the UGT, the employers took it into their heads that the CNT was preparing to join forces with the Libres to create an even more powerful single union. Surprisingly, talks had indeed taken place between the two unions, but at a very informal level. Given the intensity of the hatred and distrust on both sides over the beatings, murders and gun battles that eventuality was never even remotely possible.

What was happening was that, although it had previously been an employers’ union, a ‘yellow union’, Libres rank-and-file union members with genuine grievances were adopting an increasingly militant stand against the bosses in their attempts to improve wages and working conditions in the factories and workshops they controlled, and were competing with the CNT for the hearts and minds of Catalan workers.

Miró i Trepat and his clique needed Dato to unleash the harsh repression he had been promising before he was obliged to reach a political accommodation with the unions, especially the CNT. What was required, they felt, was some sort of outrageous action that could be attributed to the anarcho-syndicalists. That action was to be the bombing of the Pompeya café, a popular music-hall type establishment on the Paral.lel, a cenetista meeting place and one of the main centres of working-class Barcelona’s social life.

Miró i Trepat and Pedro Homs had the very man for the job: Inocencio Feced, a psychologically disturbed young man who described himself as an anarchist and who — for reasons of compromised personal circumstance and weakness of character —had become a secret service informer and agent provocateur.

Sunday afternoon at the Pompeya café on Sunday, 12 September, 1920 was busy, its rooms packed with working-class families who’d come to eat, drink, listen to the music and meet old friends.

Around midday, halfway through the first interval, Inocencio Feced walked into the music hall and sat at a table at the back, next to Antonio Zaragoza, a worker. At the same table was García Sánchez, 44

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a journalist with the Alicante paper, El Tiempo. García Sánchez was in Barcelona to cover a national swimming championship. No sooner had the bell rung for the second half and the lights dimmed when Feced went to the toilet, leaving his hat on the seat. Within a few minutes both men smelled what seemed like the acrid fumes of burning rags and saw smoke coming from under the hat, which Zaragoza lifted and realised that it was a bomb. Jumping to his feet he shouted a warning: then it exploded with an enormous blast and a wall of flame. After that the lights went out. The clocks stopped at exactly 12:18 pm. Chaos broke out as dazed and confused people wandered around through the smoke, darkness and the rubble, clambering over the dead and wounded to find the exit.

Six compañeros were killed that day, and eighteen seriously injured. Next day, the press and the police claimed it had been the result of an internal CNT dispute. Only later did we discover, to our horror, that it had indeed been the work of a cenetista —albeit one of Pedro Homs’s penetration agents — Inocencio Feced.

Feced, a well-known ‘face’ in Barcelona’s anarchist milieu, like all good agents, had built up extensive friendship networks in a variety of unlikely places. He was also an intimate friend of Libres president, Ramón Sales.

Despite his connections, the description provided by Zaragoza and García Sánchez — who survived the blast — closely fitted that of Feced, leaving the authorities little choice but to bring him in for questioning. The arrest was made in very public and dramatic circumstances by Inspector Ronceño of the Special Brigade during a raid on the café La Tranquilidad. But, it was an arrest purely for show, a means of protecting their agent’s cover and Feced was released, without charge, within twenty-four hours. Strangely enough, for someone so ruthless, Feced’s conscience eventually got the better of him and he recanted, confessing all to Archs.

That same month — September — General Milans Astray announced the formation of a Morocco-based Spanish Foreign Legion to put down the burgeoning anti-colonial nationalist resistance movement in the colony. The regiment, modeled on the French Foreign Legion in neighbouring Algeria, was also intended to provide a military balance to France’s military presence in the Maghreb.

Astray always claimed that the first 500 recruits to the Legion were Catalans fleeing the police — most of them anarchists. I’ve no idea where he got that information from, but no one I knew — or anyone else knew come to that — joined up. Astray always was one 45

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3

for embellishing his stories — un exagerado, as they say. It’s more likely that his first batch of recruits were pistoleros escaping justice from the CNT action groups.

Street gun-battles and killings continued throughout the autumn with most of the victims cenetistas. On 19 October a shootout occurred between anarcho-syndicalists and Libres pistoleros in the Carrer Riera Alta, which led to the arrest of two compañeros — Juan López and Bartólomé Llabres — whom the police succeeded in framing for previous actions. Each was sentenced to six years imprisonment.

The CNT’s Regional Plenum’s reluctant post-facto ratification of Segui and Boal’s underhand pact with the UGT was a compromise forced on the Plenum by the Andalusian delegates, who insisted that, if necessary, they work with the UGT to resolve the long-running Rio Tinto dispute, which had been going on for over seven months. The same congress delegated Salvador Segui to report on the Rio Tinto miners’s situation and, if necessary, to call on the solidarity of the UGT. Andrés Nin and Joaquín Maurin, two pro-Bolshevik Marxistsyndicalists in the CNT, were delegated to negotiate with governor Federico Carlos y Bas to allow Soli to be distributed in Barcelona. Bas, however, refused on the grounds that in the present ‘perilous political circumstances’ it would be ‘too dangerous and provocative’ to allow Soli to be sold openly.

Meanwhile, Carlos Cañal, the new Minister of Labour, arrived in Barcelona from Madrid with his sub secretary, Viscount de Altea, to sign up the CNT in the ‘Mixed Commissions’. Jaime Pujol, the president of the Metallurgical Industries’ Federation, met Cañal on 29 October to discuss the matter, while, at the same time, Pere Foix of the CNT’s Maritime Workers’ Union and Salvador Segui talked the CNT’s Metalworkers’ Union into rejoining the Mixed Commissions.

That morning, however, a four-man defence group shot and killed Jaime Pujol in the Plaza de Sepulveda, on his way to the meeting. Pujol died without knowing the reason why. It had been a tragic case of mistaken identity. The intended victim had been Pujol’s brother, a virulently anti-CNT ‘diehard’. The brothers looked very much alike, and lived close to each other in the Carrer Poniente. The result was that the meeting broke up with the employers pulling out amid angry scenes and threatening further reprisals against the CNT. Next day, someone fired a shot at Segui in the Carrer Carretas; they missed him but killed his friend, Francisco Casals.

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Barcelona’s ‘men of order’ were hostile to the Mixed Commissions and convened a meeting in the Town Hall to protest against Madrid’s support for the Commissions, the CNT and of course the liberal policies of Barcelona’s moderate civil governor, Federico Carlos y Bas, whom they detested with a vengeance. They seized on the Pujol shooting as proof that the anarcho-syndicalists were not interested in negotiating an agreement. After the meeting, General Severiano Martínez Anido, accompanied by his adjutant, Lt. Colonel Oller y Pinyol, gave a press conference denouncing the Mixed Commissions and their concessions to the CNT as pandering to the enemies of Spain and God. Panic spread throughout the city that night with rumours of a coup and a St Bartholomew’s Day-type massacre by the Somatent and the Carlists. Next day, amid wild stories of an imminent coup d’état, Dato summoned General Severiano Martínez Anido to Madrid and offered him the civil governorship, which Anido initially rejected. His refusal perplexed Dato enormously, given that he’d been angling for the job for a long time. However, after an audience with the king, Dato ordered him to accept the post, and Anido agreed — on the understanding that he would be granted ‘extraordinary powers’ to intervene in the regions where the CNT retained a strong presence, which meant Valencia and Zaragoza as well as Barcelona. By extraordinary powers he meant, of course, dictatorial powers, and in this he had the backing of the Marques de Forondo, the managing director of the Barcelona Tramway Company, a close friend of the king and a spokesman for the patronal. He was also one of those who had pressured Eduard Dato into sacking civil governor Bas. Dato finally granted Anido the dictatorial powers he sought with his unforgettable phrase ‘Up! And at them!’

Anido returned to Barcelona in the evening of 11 November. His train having made a lengthy and unscheduled stop at Zaragoza — much to the annoyance of the other passengers — while he held a secret meeting with the governor of Zaragoza, the Conde Coello de Portugal.

We later discovered an account of what passed between Anido and Carlos Bas from Francisco Madrid, a civil servant in the local administration: ‘Anido turned up, uninvited, at the governor’s office during the evening of 11 November, shortly before the news of his sacking was confirmed, officially, by Madrid. ‘Señor’, he said, bluntly, ‘your so-called peaceful methods have failed and crime continues to rise, relentlessly.

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I have come to inform you that peace will only return after all the ringleaders are shot — without trial. I am talking specifically of Segui and Pestaña, and their troublemaking republican lawyers, Lluis Companys and Francesc Layret.’

‘General,’ replied Bas, ‘I am the governor, not an assassin’.

‘Then,’ replied Anido, ‘resign your post forthwith, I will do what is necessary. By tomorrow I will have your job.’ ‘ He was right. Within the hour Bas had received a telegram from Bagallal, the new minister of the interior, ordering him to return to Madrid and to hand over power to Martínez Anido.

Before he left office, however, Bas summoned Segui, with whom he had established a reasonably warm rapport, to warn him of the changed situation. The governor didn’t pull his punches.

‘Sr Segui! I find myself forced to resign my post because I cannot govern by — or be complicit in — murder. Nor do I want any part in violating human rights, suppressing dissent, tolerating corruption, enforcing anti-working-class legislation or participating in the patronal’s criminal conspiracies. I strongly advise you or any of your colleagues against coming to this office again with any grievances. The man who is to replace me —General Martínez Anido(3) —is neither just nor honourable. He hates you and wants to see you dead. You must know yourself how many thousands of CNT members he has already locked up in jail. Now they are planning to kill you off, one by one.

He is already boasting about shooting 500 cenetistas. Stop talking and think seriously about defending your lives. Anido and his men are preparing extreme measures, and I fear your lives can no longer be guaranteed.’

Anido spelled out his mission statement to reporters on his first day in office, 19 November. Speaking of the ‘definitive pacification’ of Barcelona by criminalising dissent, he hinted at parapolitical police actions aimed at liquidating the CNT’s leaders by any means necessary, and spoke, openly, of totally eradicating the only independent labour movement in the city: ‘Let no one doubt for a moment that the rules of the game have changed,’ he stressed, ‘as have the circumstances of our national security. That much is self-evident.

‘I hereby declare war on terrorism,’ he continued, grandiosely, ‘and I ask all workers with moderate views to collaborate with the security forces to end the tyrannical dominion of those who have forgotten they were once men.

‘Time and time again over the past few weeks I’ve been asked to 48

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deal firmly with extremists, especially those inciting or proselytising extremist ideas. Decent and respectable working-class organisations must be our partners in this endeavour, and it is from them that much of the most vigorous insistence on strong action to weed out extremism has come. It is the workers themselves who are deeply concerned about the fanatical fringe elements who are contaminating the good reputation of the mainstream, organised, workers in this country.

‘The action I am talking about has been controversial, historically, with each tightening of the law being fiercely opposed, and regularly defeated either in parliament or in the courts. The mood now, however, is different. People no longer talk of government scaremongering.

‘Over the past fortnight we have been holding intensive talks with the central government in Madrid to establish a comprehensive framework for action in dealing with the terrorist threat in Barcelona, and today I want to give our preliminary assessment of the measures we need to examine urgently. In the meantime, insofar as we can take administrative measures that do not require legislation, we intend to act with immediate effect.

‘An inter-government unit will be set up and staffed by senior hand-picked officials who will drive this forward under the guidance of Police Commissioner Arleguí, and myself.

‘Today we have published a list of extremist organisations and individuals, networks, centres, bookshops and publications that are proscribed, herewith. All union halls or ateneos used or suspected of being centres for fomenting extremism will be closed immediately, and active involvement or association with any of these proscribed bodies — including the paying of union dues — will be deemed treasonable, and dealt with subject to military law.

‘I shall also be publishing new grounds for arrest and relocation — which I have the authority to do under statute — that will include glorifying class-hatred, advocating violence to further political or social beliefs, or justifying or validating such violence. Let no one be in any doubt that the rules of the game are changing, as the circumstances of our national security and well-being have changed.

‘There will also be an offence of glorifying terrorism and fundraising in support of prisoners charged with terrorism. The language and the remarks made in recent days by hotheads and troublemakers need to be covered by such laws, which will also be applied to justifying, defending or glorifying terrorism anywhere in Spain — not just in Barcelona. Active engagement with any of these will be an arrestable and indictable offence.

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‘We already have in place new court procedures that will allow a pretrial process, and the forces of order have requested that detention of terrorist suspects, prior to charging, be extended, significantly, to three months.

‘Again, I must stress that these laws are in no way directed against the decent law-abiding workers of Barcelona. We know that this extremist fringe does not represent Catalan workers who, in general, abhor them. We also acknowledge and welcome the Murcian contribution to our region, as we welcome all those who come to work here in peace, and who know that here, in Catalonia, our respect and tolerance towards others is the surest guarantee of freedom and progress for people of all classes.

‘Gentlemen. We are the government, and we are the enforcers of government! We will prevail!’

The Libres leaders fell over themselves in their enthusiasm to offer their ‘services’ in Anido’s war against ‘extremism’. These ‘services’ — provided by psychopathic killers, fundamentalist Catholics and Carlists who hated the anarcho-syndicalist CNT with a zealotry that outshone even that of the Loyalists of the Shankhill Road —were ‘special’ indeed.

Martínez Anido proceeded to re-engineer Milans del Bosch’s apparatus of repression to suit his own murderous purposes. Together with police chief Arlegui, they recruited a cabal of trusted senior police officers to head up special squads to lead the anti-CNT surge. One of the most infamous of these torturers and murderers was police inspector Antonio Espejo Aguilar.

Anido then unleashed his dogs of anti-CNT state-terror in a sustained three-week-long campaign. It wasn’t only the police we faced, we also had the auxiliaries of the Sometent to deal with as well as the pistoleros of the Sindicatos Libres. Protected and financed by the new civil governor, they had, in effect, licences to kill.

Within that three-week period there were twenty-two political murders in Barcelona. On the night of 19 November, the day Anido took power, the CNT was outlawed, hundreds of members were arrested and union branch halls and workers’ centres all over Catalonia were closed down, as was Solidaridad Obrera. The only ones who avoided arrest were those lucky enough not to be at home when the Special Brigade battered their way through the front or back door.

On the last day of November, sixty-four prominent cenetistas, including Salvador Segui, were marched from the Modelo Prison to the harbour and rowed out to the prison hulk La Guiralda for deportation to the 50

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infamous Menorcan Castle of Mola. Not one of them were charged with any crime or ever brought to trial. They were simply arrested, illegally, deported and interred for two years and five months on the arbitrary authority of Milans del Bosch before their eventual release at the end of April 1922.

Lluis Companys’s wife only found out by accident of her husband’s imminent transfer to La Guiralda, and immediately rushed by taxi to the home of Francesc Layret, the CNT’s lawyer who had been negotiating the release of the arrested cenetistas, in an attempt to halt the deportations.

Layret, crippled by polio since childhood, was a republican member of parliament who represented the provincial Catalan town of Sabadell. An ardent supporter of the Russian Revolution, he was probably the best lawyer the CNT ever had. A man of uncompromising integrity and a member of the intellectual circle that included Nicolas Salmerón, Valls i Ribot and Pere Corominas, he was respected across the liberal political spectrum. A regular participant in the debates of the Federalist Union of Catalonia, where he opposed both Lerroux and the Lliga, he sided openly with the radical working-class organisations and movements. In fact Layret had been trying to set up a Catalan workers’ party linked to the CNT, but in spite of the esteem in which he was held, the idea generated no enthusiasm among the apolitical anarchosyndicalists.

As Companys’s wife rushed to seek Layret’s assistance, the lawyer’s death warrant had already been signed at a meeting attended

by Martínez Anido, Arleguí, Alejo Pita, Ramón Sales and Laguía. Layret had to be murdered because his parliamentary immunity meant he could not be arrested, and because he couldn’t be intimidated or compromised, something Anido openly acknowledged.

Libres gunmen were waiting outside Layret’s apartment block in the Carrer Bames. As he and Companys’s wife hailed a taxi to take them to the office of Antonio Martínez Domingo, the Mayor of Barcelona, the pair were suddenly surrounded by pistoleros who fired repeatedly into the body of the lawyer. According to witnesses all they could remember was Companys’s distraught wife screaming out repeatedly: ‘Poor Senor Layret!’

Francesc Layret was dead before he hit the pavement. As Companys’s wife described it: ‘He crumpled to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.’

She later identified one of the men who fired the shots as Fulgencio Vera Sorie — a wee fat man given to wearing a black shirt and trousers with a waistband hoisted up almost round his chest. Sorie 51

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belonged to a death squad whose members included José Conça, Ángel Coll, Fulgencio Grisca, the Alvarado brothers and Carlos Baldrich.

Their escape was covered by the capitania who provided each of them with blue ‘get-of-jail’ Sometent cards to show to the police should they find themselves detained. Layret’s murderers received 3,000 pesetas for their work.

Layret wasn’t the gang’s only victim that night. Others who died included two comrades, Antoni Crusat, and Josep Canela, a CNT metalworkers’ delegate. These killings were also personally sanctioned by Arleguí and, again, carried out by the wee ‘fat man’, Fulgencio Vera Sorie, together with Ramón Sales, Conça, Mediavilla and the Alvarado brothers — violent characters recruited from the Jaimista (Carlist) Requeté.

The blood money for that night’s operations — 40,000 pesetas —was provided by Miró i Trepat and Maties Muntadas, the Conde de Santa Maria de Sants. Muntadas owned of one of the largest textile enterprises in Barcelona, l’Espanya Industrial of Sants, and belonged to one of the most important bourgeois families in Catalonia who had owned textile mills since the 18th century.

Muntadas had, earlier, put up 23,000 pesetas for Libres gunmen to murder his number-one enemy — Ángel Pestaña. The would-be assassin, Ramón Sales, rented a room in a house opposite Pestaña’s apartment, which had a balcony on which the anarcho-syndicalist often sat reading and relaxing in the evenings. Sales’ plan was to have a sniper pick him off from there, and to this end he paid 100 pesetas a week to ensure the flat always remained vacant.

Other victims that night of Saint Bartholomew included another old friend —Tomás Herreros, a typographer, anarcho-syndicalist and founder member of Solidaridad Obrera, the forerunner of the CNT. Herreros had been one of the main protagonists in the July 1909 general strike, which culminated in the events of the Tragic Week.

Present at the birth of the CNT, he helped found the Barcelona anarchist weekly Tierra y Libertad.

Blacklisted by the employers and unable to find work, he opened a bookstall, near Drassanes, at the harbour end of the Ramblas, which became a popular meeting place for the city’s anarchists.

Herreros’s killers included José Cinca, Carlos Baldrich, Manuel Navarro and León Simón, the last being the actual murderer. Simón, a tall, thin man with sharp angular features and distinctive green glasses, had been browsing at the bookstall when he picked up a book and made as if to offer payment. Instead of money, however, he 52

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produced a knife from a folded newspaper in his other hand, stabbed Herreros three times through the heart, and then ran off up the Rambla towards the Plaça de Catalunya. Sales paid Simón 300 pesetas for this murder, the equivalent of 4 months’ wages for the most lowpaid of Barcelona’s unskilled workers.

Another victim that night was my old friend, Josep María Foix Vila, a long-standing member in the CNT Bank Workers’ Union, a communist-syndicalist and defence group member. His murder was organised by Homs and financed by Sales’s close friend, Jaume Fort, an official with the Libres-affiliated Bank and Stock Exchange Union, another bastion of right-wing unionism. The gunmen — José Conça, Manuel Simón and, again, Fulgencio Vera — waited for Foix outside the Bar Izquierda in the Plaça de la Universitat with Homs, Fort and Torrens, a Sometent member. Homs identified Foix to Fort, who in turn pointed him out to Fulgencio Vera Sorie, the ‘wee fat man’ who shot him from behind a parked lorry.

Meanwhile, I had moved from Zaragoza to Reus, a smallish industrial town about thirteen kilometres from Tarragona, where I had a job maintaining British textile machinery. Not knowing anyone there I kept a low profile, and although a union member, I didn’t get involved with the local action groups. What little free time I had I spent reading and improving my Spanish, commuting to Barcelona most weekends to see Lara.

The situation in Reus was almost as bad as that which prevailed in Barcelona, with regular pistolero attempts directed against cenetistas. Ferrisa, a local mosaic manufacturer, was responsible for bankrolling the vigilante beatings and shootings, most of which were carried out by off-duty local police officers and Sometent auxiliaries, with the complicity of the civil governor and the Reus employers’ federation. With Reus only about sixty miles from Barcelona it became a regular stomping ground for pistoleros such as Fulgencio Vera, the ‘wee fat man’, and Nicanor Costa, a Barcelona City Council employee, the Alvarado brothers — taxi-drivers who operated from a rank in the Plaça del Arc del Trionf — and, somewhat ironically, Paulo Pallás. The latter, a ‘tram inspector’, a cover employment provided to many pistoleros, who claimed to be — and probably was — the son of Paulíno Pallás, a respected anarchist executed in 1893 for allegedly throwing two bombs at General Arsenio Martínez Campos, the then captain general of Catalonia.

After Paulíno Pallàs’s execution, Martínez Anido, for some unfathomably perverse reason, took the family of the anarchist he 53

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had just had murdered under his protection and installed them in his own home. Pallás’s widow became his housekeeper and the executed anarchist’s son and daughter he brought up as his own children. The son grew up to become one of Anido’s closest confidants and a founding member of the Sindicatos Libres. His sister became Anido’s confidential secretary.

During one particularly ham-fisted operation, Vera’s pistoleros were all arrested, presumably by mistake due either to unexpected integrity, incompetence or over-zealousness on the part of the local police. The ‘mistake’, however, was quietly rectified and the gunmen — apart from Vera — were permitted to escape, causing a major scandal that implicated and embarrassed Martínez Anido, Arleguí, Junien and other leading figures in the Requeté and the Reus employers’ federation.

Despite thousands of arrests and union branch closures, the CNT’s skeleton structure remained largely intact and the defence groups scored a few hits of their own, including the assassination of Antonio Capdevila, the Libres’s president in Reus, and Albareda, owner of the Hotel Continental, a Libres’s hangout on the Ramblas. Francisco García, (El Patillas), and his friends, Manuel Soler and Vicente Cervera, identified and stabbed Albareda in the street outside his hotel. But it was the cenetistas who took most of the losses. That same evening, Libres leader Ramón Sales —together with José Cinca and the Alvarado brothers — killed Ramón Batalla, secretary of the CNT Construction Workers’ Union, and Josep Canela, a former secretary of the CNT’s Metalworkers’ Union.

As a result of these arrests, Ramón Archs and Pedro Vandellós effectively took control of the Regional Committee and, from a safe house in the Carrer Vistalegre, began planning a nationwide general strike for 7 December. They also had the never-ending problem of providing material support for prisoners’ families. When the Prisoners Support group could no longer help, they had to turn to the anarchist action groups and the CNT defence cadres.

By the end of November 1920, the consensus among the activists of the affinity and defence groups was that the only way to break the bloody stand-off was to ‘up the ante’ and apply the ‘Talion Law’ of an ‘eye for an eye’. The situation had developed into a blood feud and we were left with no option but to take on the responsible politicians at their own game. What was happening in Barcelona obviously wasn’t just down to the arbitrary whims of Martinez Anido and his cohorts; it was clearly a strategy authorised in Madrid at the highest levels of government.

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Joan Pey, a prominent figure in the CNT’s Woodworkers’ Union and a member of the Catalan regional committee visited me in Reus on Archs’ recommendation. Simply dressed, as always, in a loose-fitting grey flannel suit and alpargatas, Spain’s traditional rope-soled canvas shoes, his hair all over the place, but always with an open smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

‘Can we speak somewhere — in private?,’ he asked.

‘How about the bar across the road, it’s quiet there at the moment.’

We exchanged a few pleasantries, and once the vermouths had been served and the waiter gone, Pey looked at me closely.

‘You know,’ he said cautiously, ‘you’ve done a good job here.

Archs thinks highly of you. It would be a shame if it all came to nothing. I’m afraid things are going to get worse. The bosses are preparing yet another anti-union offensive and we need to consider how best to proceed. We will resist, of course, and we are replicating the more important committees, but we believe there is something you could be doing here as well; our strategy worked well during the La Canadiense strike. The problem, of course, is that with every passing day we need to be more prudent, more closed, which isn’t good for the health of a democratic and libertarian organisation such as ours. It really is a terrible dilemma, having both to trust and distrust everyone at the same time. Ours is a mass organisation, not a confederation of elites. But who can control such a mass?

‘There is something I need to ask you, but I’d rather you didn’t ask questions or venture suppositions, at least not at the moment. We’d like you to attend a meeting of the Textile Workers’ Union next Thursday where we will be discussing a proposal to send an official delegation to Madrid. It’s to do with the CNT’s participation in a government-backed Cotton Committee… I’m going to recommend that you be nominated as the engineering delegate from Reus — that is, as one of three observers on behalf of the Catalan Regional Committee. I hope you’ll accept the nomination. Before that, however, I’d like us to meet next Wednesday evening in Barcelona, in the Centro Fraternidad Rebublicana in the barri Pueblo Nuevo, near Pedro VI. It’s up the Ramblas, on your left. I’ll be there at 8:00 to introduce you to two other comrades from the textile union.’

That Wednesday I left work early and caught the train to Barcelona and went straight to the Café Fraternidad Republicana, as arranged.

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Pey sat at a table at the back of the room with two men whom he introduced as Medín Martí and ‘Jaume el Pelao’ (Jaime the Bald), both members of the CNT’s dyers’ branch.

Medín Martí, tall, with a friendly, weather-beaten face and long black hair, had a grin that alternated between friendly to penetrating.

His friend, Jaime the Bald, was bald, hence the name. He looked at me closely, a half-smile on his cheery, chubby, face.

Pey spoke in a low voice: ‘The National Committee has decided that the only way to stop the continuing massacre of our militants is to go for the top man himself — Prime Minister Dato. We’re not sure yet how or when we are going to do it, but we need up-to-the-minute information on the layout of the ministerial building — the rooms, corridors, guards, doors, everything right to the door of his office.

‘Fortunately, the ideal opportunity to collect this information has just dropped into our lap out of the blue. The Catalan Regional Committee of the CNT has been asked if the textile unions will collaborate in a new government-initiative, the Cotton Committee — part of the Mixed Commissions scheme — with the employers’ confederation. We have no intention of taking part, but the pretext will give us access to the palace where the initial meetings are to take place.

It will help if we can get a clearer idea as to the palace’s layout and the surrounding streets and buildings — particularly the nearby churches.

Most churches have rear or side exits other than the main door — usually next to the sacristy — which lead on to another street.

‘Genaro Minguet of the regional committee will coordinate the trip, and Archs has recommended that you be part of the delegation charged with drawing up a plan of the layout of Dato’s offices and reporting back to him on security in the building. ‘You’ll travel with Villena, chairman of the fabric and textile branch, Minguet and the two lads here. Don’t worry about the details of the discussions. Villena will do all the talking, but don’t give him any hint as to the real reason you are there. As far as he is concerned, you are there as an engineering union delegate.’

I soon discovered why Pey didn’t trust him.

At Madrid’s Atocha station the police were waiting for us, as were two civil servants from the Trade and Commerce department of the Ministry of the Interior, the department which was hosting our visit. The police had the whole CNT delegation —except me, as Eduardo Principe, about whom they had no knowledge — on a list of peligrosos (‘dangerous anarchists’). After a cursory search of our bags, however, and a brief discussion with the men from the ministry, they left. If my doppelgänger 56

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identity as Eduardo Principe hadn’t been filed before, he certainly was now. Two ministerial cars took us to a small hotel just off the Puerta del Sol, at the back of the Ministry of the Interior. Our appointment with Prime Minister Eduardo Dato was scheduled for the next day.

On our way to the palace next day, something happened that shook me badly; our taxi took a corner a bit too fast and I was thrown against Villena, who was sitting next to me in the back seat. As I leaned against him to right myself, I felt the hard profile of what could only have been a pistol tucked into his waistband.

The implication hit me like a sucker punch in the solar plexus.

If he was permitted to carry a handgun into the Presidencia he had to have a police licence, which could only be signed, personally, by Arleguí. The implication was clear: Villena was a traitor, a confidente!

I made no comment and mentioned nothing to anyone at the time, other, of course, than to Archs and Minguet on my return to Barcelona.

Dato received us, briefly —and politely —before introducing us to the trade and industry minister and the various mid-level bureaucrats scheduled to attend our meeting. The prime minister had a cadaverous, clean-shaven face with deep-set eyes, thin, puckered lips and a mottled complexion topped with thin, white hair.

After his formal welcome, he offered each of us a limp handshake, his best wishes for a satisfactory conclusion and his hopes that an ‘efficient Cotton Committee’ and a ‘happier Spain’ would result from the meeting, after which he buggered off sharpish to do something else. A flunkey ushered us into a committee room with a long mahogany table with chairs arranged down either side. The first thing I did, on the pretext of writing up the minutes, was to commit to memory everything pertinent I’d observed since entering the building. Following the introductory meeting our chairman gave us a brief tour of the Presidencia, which I found particularly useful.

On my return the arrangement was to meet Pey at an apartment in Pueblo Seco, but when I got to the rendezvous I saw the pre-arranged danger signal, a flowerpot in the centre of the balcony. Something was up. There had been another major security crackdown since I had been away, with many more arrests. I went immediately to the fallback safe house at Martí Barrera’s apartment in Ensanche —the Gorbals of Barcelona. Martí was the publisher of Solidaridad Obrera. When both his mother-in-law and his wife appeared at the door I explained that I was a friend ‘sent by Feliu’, at which point Evelio Boal emerged from a back room followed by Barrera himself, who knew me from Soli. He indicated to the women to let me in.

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Seating us at the table in the front room, Marti’s mother-in-law brought in a bottle of brandy and some glasses. Boal poured us each a generous three-finger measure.

‘You must return immediately to Reus,’ said Boal, handing us our glasses. ‘Puy has been arrested in Tarragona, and the National Committee is calling for a nationwide general strike. The problem is, I can’t tell you how to contact the Catalan Regional Committee. They are only ones who can give you up-to-date and reliable information.

But the comrades will need to be reassured that it was the National Committee that issued the instruction to bring the strike forward.

Here is the necessary document with the committee seal. They’ve pushed us too far this time; we have no choice!’

Boal was nervous, and with good reason. His life hung by a thread. If he were to be arrested he knew the authorities wouldn’t hesitate to apply the ley de fugas.

Before leaving for Tarragona I met with Laureano for supper and a catch-up on what had been happening in my absence, and to ask him for a new set of identity papers. Eduardo Principe was ‘burned’ —‘quemado’ — for the moment anyway.

The only members of the Provincial Committee I could locate in Tarragona were Rodríguez Salas, Felípe Alaiz and the Marxistsyndicalist, Joaquín Maurin, the delegate from the Lérida Provincial Federation. Handing them Boal’s letter I confirmed to them that it was, indeed, the general secretary of the CNT, whom I had just left, who had issued the strike call. Maurín, however, a died-in-the-wool apparatchik, xenophobe and anti-anarcho-syndicalist with his own ideological agenda, refused to accept the instructions, claiming the letter was a forgery and that it wasn’t Boal’s signature. He also questioned the fact that it had been delivered by a foreigner, an extranjero.

But it wasn’t entirely shambolic. At least we ensured that Anido didn’t have it all his own way. He had been hoping that the mass arrests and deportations would paralyse the union, leaving it leaderless, yet by 5 December it was clear to all and sundry that Anido’s law and order had broken down completely, and that it was not him who controlled the city, but the union and the affinity groups.

That night CNT defence groups surrounded the military base at Campo del Arpa and fired on the Civil Guards patrolling the perimeter but they were outgunned, and were forced to escape when reinforcements arrived. Only one comrade was arrested, however: 58

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Gregorio Daura, whom they marched, manacled, to the Plaça de Toros Monumental where they applied the ley de fugas, shooting him down like a dog in cold blood, claiming that he had tried to escape.

At three o’clock on the afternoon of 7 December — at the height of the general strike — a massive funeral procession set off down the Ramblas behind the coffin of the murdered lawyer Francesc Layret.

We, the mourners, did not get far. The cortege was quickly halted by a line of Civil Guards who fired a volley over our heads to prevent us advancing further. It was only after the respected Barcelona councillor Luis Nicolau d’Olwer intervened with the commanding officer that the Civil Guard lowered their weapons and withdrew.

The long black column of grieving mourners shuffled slowly on its way down the Gran Via to the cemetery where Layert was finally laid to rest in niche no 247. The week that followed saw even more shootouts between cenetistas and Libres gunmen across the city.

Initially, the general strike proved so successful that by 7 December the Libres were making overtures to the CNT, asking us to collaborate with them to protest against the ongoing ‘state of siege’ that existed in Barcelona. It was rank hypocrisy on the part of the Libres. At the very time they were proposing this collaboration to the Regional Committee, their president Ramón Sales was meeting with Martínez Anido in the Ministry of the Interior to discuss the next phase of the operation to eliminate the CNT. According to Inocencio Feced (the renegade anarchist gunman who took part in the meeting), Anido appointed two senior police officers, Agapito Martín and Alejo Pita, to liaise between the Interior Ministry and the Sindicatos Libres on ‘sensitive issues’ such as the recruitment and running of informers and penetration agents. The officer in charge was Inspector Antonio Espejo Aguilar.

Martínez Anido’s then called out the army to retake control of the streets and the public services. Paradoxically, the first scab tram driver out was the ubiquitous Paulí Pallás, the alleged son of the anarchist Paulíno Pallás.

Just two days later, however, with thousands of trade union militants in prison, the strike began to weaken. Ángel Pestaña was arrested around this time. He had just returned from Russia, via Genoa, where the Spanish consul general had him deported on the steamer Barceló. However, before the police arrested him at the docks Pestaña passed his long-awaited critical report on Russia and the Bolsheviks to his compañera.

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The severity of the repression that followed forced many cenetistas to change their names and take whatever work they could find, usually in terrible conditions. We had to sleep where and when we could, and we were constantly on the move.

Again, the socialist UGT made no attempt to support the strike or show solidarity, leaving us high and dry to face the reaction alone.

After that the strike petered out, and put paid to any more talk of ‘solidarity pacts’ or ‘socialist unity’ for a further ten years. By December 1920, the political situation in Barcelona was as bad as it had ever been with many comrades being summarily executed ‘attempting to escape lawful custody’. So many trade unionists were under arrest, in fact, they couldn’t fit them all into Barcelona’s jails, so Eduardo Dato’s cabinet approved another conducción ordinario order, with ‘chains’ of up to 200 prisoners at a time being marched, by road, in bitterly cold weather — tied together by a long rope and escorted by Civil Guard on horseback — to La Coruña, in Galicia, at the other side of the country.

I was lucky; I had a job and a new identity. But I was in the minority. For most workers the situation was desperate. With so many unemployed and hungry, we could neither pay the rent on our union premises nor support our prisoners or their families. There was one obvious solution, attack often being the best form of defence. Archs called a further Defence Committee meeting to discuss eliminating the main architects of the repression: Espejo, Arleguí, Anido and Dato. By removing the more reactionary ultra-conservative elements in the administration, the new government would, we hoped, follow a more conciliatory line.

The top name on our list was that of Eduardo Dato.

Archs’ proposal was accepted and it was left to him to organise the details and act as the point of contact between the Defence Committee and those groups undertaking the action. I should stress that at no time were any of the defence or affinity groups subject to committee discipline or control of any sort. It was a strictly informal and ad hoc relationship.

NOTES – 1920 1: Although not nominated by the 1919 National Congress to represent the CNT at the

Second Congress of the Communist International —the Comintern —the National Committee decided that because he was already in France, Ángel Pestaña should join up with the two delegates, Eusebio Carbó and Salvador Quemades, and travel with them to Moscow. For a variety of reasons, however, neither Carbó nor Quemades made it to Moscow, leaving Pestaña as the only official delegate to reach

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1920: NOTES Russia, where he remained from 26 June until 6 September, 1920. While on the train from Petrograd to Moscow, Pestaña met and befriended Comintern President Zinoviev, and upon their arrival in Moscow, the two men went straight to an executive committee meeting of the Comintern at which Zinoviev formally proposed the CNT’s admission to the Third International. His proposal was accepted and, on 27 June 1920, the CNT became an affiliate member of the Third International.

This coincied with the period when Lenin and Trotsky were methodically eliminating anyone and everyone daring to challenge the Bolsheviks’ claim to power — especially the independent-socialist and anarchist opposition. The Bolsheviks were also strong-arming all affiliate parties and organisations to approve the ‘Twenty-One Conditions of Communist Orthodoxy’, which effectively meant expulsion for anyone remotely suspected of reformism. Those who remained were obliged to accept the Bolshevik principle of ‘democratic centralism with iron discipline’ and to purge their respective parties of all ‘petit-bourgeois’ elements.

Support for the Soviet Union had to be unconditional, and all official party names were required to incorporate the title ‘Communist’. Decisions by the Congresses of the Communist International and their Executive Committee were binding on all parties, while a Presidium, an Executive Committee and a Political Secretariat oversaw the Comintern itself.

In Moscow Pestaña attended the preliminary sessions of the International Red Unions and met many Soviet leaders, including Lenin, Trotsky, Radek and Luzovsky.

The latter was the Bolshevik spokesman for international trade union policy, and it was in his discussions with Luzovsky over the ‘Statutes of the Red Trade Union International’ that Pestaña openly criticised the Bolshevik party line.

‘My criticism of the Bolshevik “Statutes” is threefold,’ he told Luzovsky. ‘Its critique of “apoliticism” — unions with no party-political affiliation; the acceptance of political interference in union matters; and its support for the extraordinary idea of the “dictatorship of the proletariat”. These statutes demand that all unions must work “in close relationship” with the “political organisation of the international communist proletariat”, and that we are obliged to create within our unions “a nucleus of communists whose unrelenting effort would lead to the imposition of the Bolshevik point of view.”

‘You assume, of course, that the union’s point of view will be the same as that of the political organisation, and given how the relationship between union and party has developed here in Russia, this, in effect, means party control of union affairs.

The statutes also state that the dictatorship of the proletariat is both a “decisive and [a] transitory” requirement.

‘No, the whole concept of the so-called “dictatorship of the proletariat” is totally unacceptable to the CNT,’ said Pestaña.

Luzovsky replied that there could be absolutely no changes to the wording of the paragraphs relating either to the conquest of political power or the dictatorship of the proletariat. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to either accept these statutes as they are — or reject them completely,’ said the Bolshevik.

Seeing which way the wind was blowing, Pestaña tried to impress on Luzovsky the importance — for the sake of the organisation’s apparent independence — of holding the Profintern’s first congress outside of Russia — in Italy or Sweden, for example. But it was to no avail. Even so, in spite of his objections and reservations, Pestaña did sign the document — albeit on a provisional basis, saying the CNT would decide on its terms when he returned to Spain. However, as a result of his subsequent experiences and talks in Moscow — particularly at the prompting of Armando Borghi, the Italian anarcho-syndicalist delegate of the Unione Italiana

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 Sindicale (USI) —Pestaña became increasingly unhappy with Bolshevik proposals for the Profintern and later withdrew his signature from the document.

For the CNT, the final nail in the coffin over Bolshevik plans to control the international trade union movement came in August when Pestaña, Borghi, Augustin Souchy, the German syndicalist delegate from the FAUD and the American syndicalist delegates were presented with a convention — drawn up by Alfred Rosmer, a former French syndicalist and now a dyed-in-the-wool Bolshevik —that was to be adopted by the Profintern’s member organisations. This document contained eight articles committing its signatories to what it euphemistically described as ‘close cooperation’ with the Communist Party. Union organisations in each country were to establish a bureau in cooperation with the relevant Executive Committee of the Communist Party that would assume responsibility for all international relations. Needless to say, Pestaña and the other anarcho-syndicalists told Rosmer where to stick their convention.

The coup de graçe was delivered during the final session of the International when it was decided that henceforward all the unions would be represented in the Comintern by the country’s Communist Party delegates.

The outcome of all this for the anarcho-syndicalist and IWW delegates in Moscow was the decision to create an alternative, anarcho-syndicalist International — the International Working Men’s Association, the IWMA/AIT — a return to the historic First International.

In retrospect, it’s hardly surprising that Pestaña was detained for lengthy periods at almost every border crossing on his long journey back to Spain. Arrested in Milan in December 1920, he was transferred to Genoa, and finally deported to Barcelona where he was held for almost a year, until November 1921.

I suspect that Trotsky and Felix Dzherzinsky’s Cheka had a lot to do with Pestaña’s travails. It’s ironic that Dzerzhinsky should have been so rabidly anti-anarchist, having shared a Tsarist prison cell with Nuta Kramarze, a Polish anarchist who had been kind enough to share his food parcels with him for four years. Perhaps that was his way of getting his own back for having to put up with years of living with generous but intractable anarchists; maybe they snored. What surprises me is that Pestaña made it back at all.

Only at the end of 1921 did Pestaña deliver his highly critical report to the CNT national committee on the ruthless nature of Bolshevik rule, and argue that Soviet Russia was not the exemplary political model for revolutionary Spain.

Interestingly, it was during Pestaña’s six weeks in Russia, in the run-up to the Comintern meeting, that Lenin published his vitriolic attack on anarchism and anarcho-syndicalism — Left-Wing Communism: An Infantile Disorder — which targeted the CNT in particular. This work was a complete about-turn on the apparently prolibertarian position Lenin had adopted over the late summer of 1917, as outlined in his pamphlet State and Revolution. Nor was it a coincidence that the Spanish Communist Party, the PCE, was formed that same month — 15 April, 1920 — by renegade members of the Spanish Socialist Party, the PSOE. That was the date Bolshevism introduced itself into Spanish political life.

A few months later, in July, the PCE published its manifesto in España Nueva stating that without first forming a Communist Party the proletariat would be unable to achieve the Revolution. Referring to the Communists’ role in the unions, Article Six of this manifesto gave the game away: ‘... to prevent these organisations [the unions] falling into the hands of the enemies of the revolutionary proletariat, the best Communist elements should direct the... organisation and education of these bodies’.

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1920: NOTES With the PCE now established as the Comintern’s ‘official’ representative in Spain it meant that — according to the Profintern’s draft statutes — should the CNT affiliate to the Communist International it would be obliged to accept direct Communist Party control over union matters.

Most, if not all, of these new Communists were renegades from the PSOE, the Socialist Party, and viscerally hostile to revolutionary syndicalism. In fact, one of the Party’s first acts was to issue a statement claiming that the reason the CNT was unable to resist the repression was because of its flawed ideology —revolutionary syndicalism. However, their policy of open hostility towards the CNT’s leading spokesmen proved counter-productive and resulted in alienating most confederal militants.

2: After the attempts on the lives of Félix Graupera (5 January 1920) and Miró I Trepat (20 April 1920), and the shootouts in the Plaça del Peso de la Paja, the Baron proved too much of an embarrassment to the authorities and was finally arrested, in late May 1920 – on the pretext of irregularities with his papers — and expelled via the border at Irun, his original point of entry into Spain.

Back in France with the remnants of his ‘Black Gang’, the Baron, now operating under the pseudonym of Rudolph Ställmann, continued his Tipstergeschaften and other schemes and confidence tricks, protected from the short arm of the French law by the Service de Renseignements/ Deuxième Bureau, who were only too anxious to exploit his louche talents — particularly his relationship with German spy chief Wilhelm Canaris. But he was soon making headlines again, and before the end of 1920 he had been arrested in connection with another sensational swindle and blackmail scheme, this time involving a Rajah.

Having acquired French citizenship in 1926, he adopted the name of Colonel Lemoine and opened a security consultancy-detective agency in Paris’s fashionable Rue de Lisbonne, in the 8th arrondissement, where, from 1933 onward, he fleeced German and Italian refugees from Nazism and fascism, particularly wealthy and notso-wealthy Jews whom he furnished with forged documents. After taking their money, his usual practice was to contact his friends at the Prefecture of Police and have their residence permits refused or withdrawn. Anyone refusing to pay his extortionate demands was inevitably arrested and returned to Germany or Italy where the Gestapo and the Italian OVRA had been provided with their details.

Two of his victims took him to court claiming he had defrauded them of 500,000 Francs, but the French Interior Ministry quickly intervened on Lemoine’s behalf arguing that the pair were actually German agents attempting to besmirch the name and honour one of France’s most trustworthy sons. Lemoine also had people sent into Germany on suspect missions only to be arrested by the Gestapo.

In 1942, Lemoine was arrested by the Gestapo, possibly to save his cover as a Nazi double agent. Coincidentally — or not, as the case may be — his arrest was followed by the widespread arrest of Resistance leaders and anti-Nazi contacts known to him. In spite of his known treachery and double-dealing he remained at large after the Liberation of Paris in August 1944, protected by right-wing factions within the SR and the Prefecture. It was through Bauer-Mengelberg, one of our SR contacts that we learned that Lemoine/Baron de Koenig/Rex was alive and well and living at a services spéciaux safe house in Paris, at No 27 rue de Madrid, close to his Rue de Lisbonne office. In the first week of December 1944, a five-man defence group from Laureano’s Parisian network raided his apartment, but they didn’t find him in at the time. Laureano was particularly interested in his falsification and forgery operations. As a result of the raid we discovered the whereabouts of his main printshop where we found a substantial cache of driving licences, baptismal

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 certificates and blank passports from Austria, France, Poland, Luxembourg, Canada, Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Persia. In another Lemoine safehouse we discovered a filing cabinet that turned out to be a real forgers’ goldmine. In it were blank Nansen and Latin American passports, including over 100 Cuban passports, along with papers from Costa Rica, Guatemala, Bolivia and Uruguay, facsimiles of rubber stamps and signatures of foreign consular services, business letterheads and all sorts of identity papers. As well as trafficking in forged documents, largely for the Italian OVRA, it turned out that Lemoine was also deeply involved in arms trafficking, which Laureano turned to his advantage.

After the Nazi collapse Lemoine was arrested in Berlin, only to be freed on orders from the French Interior Ministry. A few weeks later, in May 1945, shortly after VE Day, Rudolph Ställmann, alias the Baron de Koenig, the Baron von Koenig, Rex, Lemoine, and who-knows-how-many other names, died in an ‘automobile accident’ in Baden-Baden. The world was a measurably better place without him 3: General Severiano Martínez Anido was an unlikely candidate for any civil post.

Having served under General Milans del Bosch as Military Governor of Barcelona from February 1919 to February 1920, he shared the captain general’s neurotic jealousy of his authority as well as his obsession with maintaining military prestige and public order.

Arrogant, stubborn and insensitive to public opinion and the long-term consequences of his actions, Martínez Anido was not a man in touch with his feminine side. For two bloody years he exercised absolute power in Barcelona with total, uncritical, self-confidence as to the rectitude of his policies. Like Milans del Bosch, the Catalanista upper and middle classes looked upon him as their Paladin and the defender of their class interests.

In spite of his reported hesitation in accepting the civil governor’s post, Martínez Anido had lobbied hard for the job and was the patronal’s preferred candidate — certainly that of the more aggressive employers and Catholic integrists.

With Anido as civil governor, Milans del Bosch as governor-general and Arleguí as chief of police, it was an unholy trinity of anti-working class fundamentalists who wielded absolute power throughout the province. Anido’s personal cabinet consisted of his secretary, Sr. Espino; Martínez de Villar a former army officer who had been court-martialed; Arlegui, Chief of Police; Inspector Antonio Espejo Aguilar; and two Carlists, Bertran i Musitu — the head of the Somatent — and Salvador Anglada.

Martínez Anido’s and Arlegui’s murderous skills had been honed to perfection during the Cuban and Moroccan campaigns; now they were doing to Spanish workers what they had done to Spain’s colonial subjects. Between them, these two men felt strong enough to defy even the Madrid government, and with the backing of the employers and the merchant city’s ‘men of order’, they were now in a position to pursue their objective of destroying the CNT. With the aid of the Lasarte dossier they began drawing up a hit list of prominent cenetistas to be eliminated.

Martínez Anido’s appointment as civil governor marked the beginning of a reign of terror almost as bloody as that of Maximilian Robespierre, with the Fomento acting as his Committee of Public Safety. The triumverate presided over the collapse of the rule of law and the rise of state-sponsored terrorism with gunmen trained, armed and safe-housed in military barracks and Catholic seminaries. Their objective was the decapitation of the CNT by murdering its most outstanding militants and replacing the anarcho-syndicalist union with their own, compliant, ‘yellow’ unions.

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1920: NOTES Barcelona’s state of siege lasted two years, with Martínez Anido running the city as his own private fiefdom, with a total disregard for human rights and civil liberties. Three general secretaries of the CNT were shot down like stray dogs in the street. Union activists fortunate enough not to be murdered were dealt with as terrorists; thousands of anarcho-syndicalists and free-thinking liberal sympathisers — imprisoned and tortured, or manacled and herded on foot in chain gangs to concentration camps in distant provinces. The highways and byways from Barcelona to La Coruña were dotted at regular intervals with sinister roadside mounds, the graves of unfortunate cenetistas who hadn’t made it.

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LYON, SATURDAY 13 NOVEMBER 1976

Lyon was an ugly and depressing city, especially so under an overcast November sky mottled with dark smears from smoking factory chimneys. Its streets, packed with vacant-faced people, reminded Farquhar of the sullen denizens of the towns and villages of Rupert Brooke’s Cambridgeshire: For Cambridge people rarely smile, Being urban, squat, and packed with guile; And Royston men in the far South Are black and fierce and strange of mouth …

And folks in Shelford and those parts Have twisted lips and twisted hearts, And Barton men make Cockney rhymes, And Coton’s full of nameless crimes, And things are done you’d not believe At Madingley on Christmas Eve. Strong men have run for miles and miles, When one from Cherry Hinton smiles; Strong men have blanched, and shot their wives, Rather than send them to St. Ives; Strong men have cried like babes, bydam, To hear what happened at Babraham.

What would Brooke have made of Lyon, he wondered?

Leaving their car in the outskirts, Farquhar and Busquets caught the tram to Les Cordeliers, then another to the La Guillotière bridge, from which it was a short walk to the apartment of the man they had come to meet, Inocencio Martínez.

La Guillotière was one of the cheerier districts of Lyon, possibly because fewer native Lyonnais lived there. They tended to give the 67

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area a wide berth. Like Belleville and Montmartre in Paris, it was an underworld district populated largely by economic migrants, the wretched of the earth: Spaniards, Corsicans, North Africans, Arabs, Marseillais, Italians, Swiss, Russians . . . The bistros were packed with people noisily talking, arguing and— if they weren’t feeling too wretched — even laughing.

The men made their way up a dark spiralling staircase to the second floor landing where Busquets stopped at a door on the right and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again, but with no more luck. Across the landing, a door opened slightly and a grizzled, parchment-faced old woman peered out to ask what they wanted.

‘Monsieur Martínez?’ Farquhar replied.

‘He’s not in,’ she replied curtly.

‘We gathered that much. But do you know where he is?’ asked Busquets.

‘How should I know? I’m not his keeper!’

Her attitude was typical of the Lyonnais mentality Farquhar thought, one reason, perhaps, why the Nazi police chief Klaus Barbie chose the city as his base during the Occupation!

‘Well, when he gets back could you tell him some friends from Paris are in the bar across the street.’

‘I’ll tell him nothing of the sort. Nothing to do with me.’

‘Then why the fuck did you stick your nose in you old crone, eh?

Nobody asked you to, did they?’ said Farquhar, momentarily forgetting his manners and usual sang-froid.

Muttering abuse under her breath, she slammed the door.

Making their way down the stairs, the two men crossed the street to the busy La Guillotière bar opposite. They ordered pastis and sat at a table at the far end of the room to wait for Martínez.

Farquhar had known Inocencio Martínez on and off for about fifteen years. He neither liked nor trusted him, but he was a well-connected character who always seemed to know who was doing what — and with whom. An opportunist with a foot in both camps, he had remained close to the ‘do-nothing’ Esgleas clique in Toulouse. Like Farquhar, since the early 1960s he had been closely involved with Defensa Interior (DI), the Spanish Libertarian Movement’s short-lived libertarian resistance council that planned and coordinated clandestine actions aimed at toppling the regime — and with its successor networks, the First of May and the GARI groups (1) Farquhar and Busquets had come to Lyon to see what light — if any — Martínez could cast on Cerrada’s murder and the subsequent 68

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attempt on the life of Farquhar himself. Serious question marks hung over Martínez, certainly as far as Farquhar was concerned. Linked with the groups since the early 1960s, he had been involved in too many actions that had gone wrong. Somehow he always managed to escape arrest in the nick of time. In October 1966 he’d been in Madrid with Luis Andrés Edo and a First of May action group that was preparing to kidnap US Rear Admiral Norman C. Gillette, C-in-C of US armed forces in Spain, and the exiled Argentinean dictator Juan Perón. No sooner had all the group members assembled in the rented Madrid apartment than the Brigada Politico-Social moved in. Again, everyone was arrested — except Martínez. A similar event occurred the following year in Belgium when a First of May commando was on the verge of kidnapping Alberto Ullastres, a high-ranking member of Opus Dei and Franco’s ambassador to the EU, and Roberto Jacobo, Counsellor and head of Franco’s intelligence (SECED Servicio Central de Documentación) in Brussels. The same thing happened in Paris in May 1974 during the final stages of the nineteen-day kidnapping of Francoist banker Ángel Baltasar Suárez. No sooner had the banker been released and the ransom money collected — restitution for CNT funds and properties confiscated after Franco’s victory — when the police moved in and arrested everyone, except Martínez who had gone out to buy some milk.(2) In spite of everything, Martínez somehow retained the trust of Farquhar’s close friends Luis Andres Edo and Octavio Alberola, the two driving forces of the First of May and the GARI groups, whose members had carried out the Suárez kidnapping.

But cultivating trust by deceit is what these people do professionally.

Busquets and Farquhar were discussing these matters when the bar door swung open and Martínez entered, trailing a veil of fog behind him. His wet mackintosh steaming in the overheated bar as though he had just been conjured up by magic in a pantomime. He strode over to their table, a hand outstretched.

‘Salud compañeros! he said. ‘My half-wit of a neighbour just told me that two friends called to see me and that I’d probably find you here. I heard about your little problem in Paris so I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to see you here. What in God’s name brings you to Lyon?’

‘You do,’ Farquhar replied, bluntly. ‘I was hoping you might be able to help me find out who was behind Cerrada’s murder. Benicho Canuda, the killer, was Esgleas’s man, among others, and no one knows Esgleas better than you. By the way, let me introduce my friend Busquets. You’ll have heard his name mentioned before, I’m sure. He, too, was pulled in over the Suárez affair.’

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‘Of course,’ Martínez confirmed, showing a faintly heightened colour. ‘Nasty business that,’ he continued, but his voice remained even. ‘I only got away by the skin of my teeth.’

‘So I heard,’ observed Farquhar dryly, his tone pitched somewhere between mock admiration and sarcasm.

Martínez looked at him searchingly for a moment. ‘It’s strange you being here. I’m more used to seeing you in Pigalle and Belleville.

Here, if I may say, you’re a fish out of water.’

‘You’re right there, pal,’ said Farquhar. ‘And take my word for it, I’d rather be strolling down the Rue Blanche right now than being stuck here in the Place de la Guillotière.’

‘Let’s go back to my place,’ said Martínez. ‘We’ll be more comfortable. There are too many “ready-eyes” here. Half of them are villains and the other half are confidentes, not to mention the blabbermouths who are informers in spite of themselves.’

Farquhar and Busquets drained their glasses and followed Martínez across the road, climbing the dimly lit stairs behind him to his small apartment, which consisted of two tastefully furnished rooms and a well-appointed kitchen. He was obviously doing well for himself. Opening a sideboard, he produced a bottle of hard-to-get Berger pastis.

‘The real McCoy,’ he said. ‘Accept no substitutes. It’s export only these days.’

Farquhar and Busquets pulled their seats up to the table while their host did the honours, placing the bottle, a jug of water from the fridge and glasses on the table in front of them.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘tell me what’s been happening and how I can help.’ You had to hand it to him for self-confidence.

Farquhar gave Martínez a brief rundown of the events in Paris and his subsequent examination of Cerrada’s files.

‘So you have his papers then?’ observed an intrigued Martínez.

‘They must make fascinating reading. Tell me, did he name names?’

Farquhar wasn’t about to give anything away.

‘Yes, he names a lot of people, and throws a lot of new light on old history,’ he said, ‘but I’m mainly interested in his recent dealings with Esgleas and Montseny, both of whom you are still close to. In fact you were with them in Paris at the end of September, weren’t you?’

Martínez fidgeted in his seat, swept a hand over his brow then poured himself another pastis.

‘What’s up?’ asked Farquhar. ‘You seem rather put out. Is it something I said?’

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‘A bit, yes,’ he admitted. ‘You do know that the French special services have been hunting high and low for you for the past fortnight for killing those three guys in Paris?’

‘No. There’s been nothing in the newspapers as far as I know,’ replied the Scotsman. ‘How come you know they’re looking for me?’

‘Well, you’ve certainly put me in a bit of a predicament,’ said Martínez.

‘How so?’ interjected Busquets.

‘I don’t suppose you know who I’m involved with these days? Do you? No? Well, believe it or not, I work for both the RG and the DGS. It’s a long and complicated story, but it’s the truth.’

‘Fuck!’ said Farquhar, dumbfounded at Martínez’s completely unexpected and inexplicable admission. Busquets, his face white, strained to swallow his saliva. Both men jumped up, overturning their chairs in the process.

Martínez, however, hadn’t budged an inch. He had simply slid one hand into his jacket pocket.

‘Don’t move,’ he said. ‘Otherwise there will be real trouble. I didn’t say I was going to hand you over to the gendarmes. The fact I work for them doesn’t necessarily make me a complete shit. I have my reasons for doing what I do. What I will try and do, however, is work out a way of helping you, while at the same time avoiding dropping myself in la mierda. I don’t want to end up like those characters you ran into in Paris.’

Martínez’s unprompted confession that he was a police informer had left Busquets and Farquhar momentarily lost for words.

‘So how in hell’s name did you end up here?’ asked Farquhar once he’d recovered his composure.

‘It began in 1961. I’d been arrested in Madrid for possessing illegal propaganda I’d brought from our group in Alès, which was where I was living at the time. My next-door neighbour, Francisco Granado, was an economic refugee, just like me, and a few months earlier he had introduced me to the local Libertarian Youth group. I mentioned to him that I was going home to Madrid to see my mother and he asked me if I would take some pamphlets for the local anarchist youth group at the apartment of Nicolás León Estella. On my way south I stopped off at the Rue de Belfort in Toulouse where I met Esgleas for the first time. I told him of my plans, and asked if there was anything else I could do for the National Committee while I was in Madrid. There was nothing they needed done at the moment, he said. They had recently sent someone into the interior, but he did ask if I would report back to him on the situation there on my return.

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‘Unfortunately, by the time I got to Madrid the flat had just been raided and the entire group arrested. When I knocked on the door I was confronted by a gun-wielding shirt-sleeved detective, while another two sneaked up behind me on the landing. The place was crawling with policemen.

‘They took me to security HQ in the Puerta del Sol, where I was escorted upstairs, along labyrinthine corridors, through locked doors, into a large open-plan room. There must have been at least a hundred detectives milling around. The place was buzzing. There had been a major dragnet operation that day. I was just one of the many unfortunates caught in their net. I learned later that they had arrested the whole of the National Committee of the CNT as well as many of the Madrid FIJL militants I had come to meet.

‘As I stood there, handcuffed, a small, fastidious looking man of stocky figure, with a Franco-type moustache and tinted spectacles approached me. Behind him trailed a group of deferential-looking hoodlums in suits, white shirts and sunglasses. ‘“Hola, señor. I’m the jefe here,” he said, by way of introduction.

“I am Lt Colonel Eduardo Blanco.” Here, standing before me, was the head of Franco’s notorious security services and secret police — the Brigada Politico-Social. ‘“I hear you’re one of the FIJL’s top men in France, Sr Martínez,” he said. “Welcome to my little abode.”

‘He held out his hand, but I didn’t move mine; I couldn’t, they were still handcuffed.

‘Turning to the detective who was holding me by the arm —a fat, swarthy character with a walrus moustache, jowly pockmarked face and a nasty smirk — he said: “Take him downstairs — he’s obviously a tough nut, but I’m sure you’ll crack him”. His tone was ironic.

‘Hustling me down a rather grand staircase at the rear of the building, I was hurried across the central courtyard, through a barred gate guarded by two grey-uniformed policemen, and down yet more stairs into a large stone-paved area in the subterranean dungeons of the Puerta del Sol, the sotanos, off of which was a long corridor with doors to what looked like soundproofed rooms on either side. At the far side of the large central reception area was a row of three or four medieval-looking cells with studded oak doors and barred window hatches.

‘Taking me into one of the narrow rooms — they called it the ‘business room’ — they told me to strip off. ‘“With my hands chained?” I asked.

‘Unlocking my handcuffs they removed my clothes themselves.

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The first blow brought it home to me just how helpless I was and that they could do with me whatever they wanted. That was the point when all the trust I had in the world broke down. Forcing me to squat they strapped my wrists to my ankles while the detective with the walrus moustache forced an iron bar between my bent legs and arms.

Next they manoeuvred me onto what they called “the spit”, suspending me upside down on wooden blocks across two tables, about four and a half feet high, with two electricity cables clamped to the ends of the iron bar. Once everything was in place they plugged the cable into the mains, turned on the switch and stood back.

‘The pain was excruciating, indescribable. After a short time they turned off the current to the bar then two of the detectives began probing my body with pen-like electrodes — on my lips, inside my mouth and in my anus, my testicles and penis — and on my heart.

One even boasted that he had been taught his “art” by the Gestapo.

‘To stop me screaming they forced a piece of wood into my mouth, then a dirty old handkerchief covered in spit, snot and tobacco flakes. This continued right through the night at half-hour intervals until about six o’clock in the morning. I must have fainted seven or eight times.

‘I can show you the scars if you like. I’ve still got scabs on the calves of both legs, and in the area known medically as the “antero posterior iliacal spine”. I also have an open fissure on my anus, and scabs on my genitals, on my left breast and here,’ he said, indicating the interior surface of his two forefingers. ‘My lumbar area gives me constant pain —and my thumb is completely numb. Anyway, I didn’t talk, not that first day anyway — but I did break down after a second morning in that hellhole.

‘The reality was that there was nothing I could tell them, but they already knew that. The entire process was a set-piece drama designed to break my spirit and turn me into their creature — which they did. That was how I came to work for them. As for the French, Commissioner Tatareau, the RG officer who monitored the Spanish anarchist exiles got to hear about me through Blanco — they were close buddies you see —and that’s how I ended up working for them as well. Nor am I the only one. You know about Jacinto Guerrero Lucas? He’s worked for them since completing his national service in 1961. His father was a high-ranking policeman, you know. But there are others, some of them highly placed and well respected in the Organisation. Who, for example, betrayed your paisano, Christie, in 1964? Guerrero Lucas was out of the picture by then as far as the DI was concerned, and it certainly wasn’t me. I wasn’t around that 73

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summer. I’ve no proof who was behind Cerrada’s murder, or the attempt on your life, because my employers keep everything compartmentalised, especially when it comes to protecting their agents of influence. But, I imagine you already suspect the people I’m referring to. I’m sure they’re at least involved in Cerrada’s murder, even if they didn’t order it themselves.’

‘Esgleas, Llansola?’ interjected Busquets.

‘Yes, but, as I said, I have no proof that would stand up in court — only a strong, speculative suspicion. I’m afraid you’ll have to work that one out yourselves’ said Martínez. ‘Given the scale of the operation, however, and the people involved, my understanding is that they would have been acting on orders from Madrid, from “The Bunker”. I’ve heard references to an “Operation Bienvenida”, but what that’s about I have no idea.

‘So, why do you want to help us?’ asked Farquhar.

‘Well, believe it or not, in spite of everything, deep down I still believe in the “Idea” —as an ideal, of course. My family, especially my daughters and grandchildren, think I’m a hero of the anti-Francoist resistance. If only they knew. It might not seem like it, but I haven’t entirely lost my scruples, or my dignity. I’ve a lot of respect for you, Farquhar —and for you too Busquets. By the way, I’m sorry about the problems you had over the Suárez kidnapping a couple of years ago, but I had no choice in the matter. Anyway, I have scores to settle and debts to be paid for a life stolen from me. It wasn’t for the money. I did it first to get myself off a temporary hook —and not just the hook in the ceiling. Ever since then I’ve lived in a world of guilt, fear and suspicion. It’s increasingly difficult to bear this burden I’ve brought on myself, and the thoughts of the damage I have done. I couldn’t handle being in prison ... My life hasn’t exactly been a happy one.

‘I am sure that it was Esgleas who betrayed me to the DGS back in 1961, along with the others, including the then National Committee of the Interior. It was all part of a power play to consolidate his control over the emigré organisations, and those in Spain.

‘At the time, Franco’s special services needed ‘lilywhites’, fresh young militants from the interior to infiltrate the DI, the new, clandestine action organisation set up in France. Ninety-five per cent of their information comes from spies, informers and provocateurs. I was to be one, Jacinto Guerrero Lucas was another. No doubt there are many more, but who they are I really don’t know. Nor did I know Guerrero Lucas at the time; I only found out about him afterwards.

‘When he arrived in Toulouse in 1961, Guerrero Lucas quickly ingratiated himself with Cipriano Mera and José Pascual Palacios of the 74

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FIJL Relations Commission, and soon established himself as an official delegate of the FIJL of the Interior. His reputation among the exiles was helped no end by the Brigada Politico Social planting a story in the Francoist newspaper ABC that an arrest warrant had been issued identifying him as a prominent ‘leader’ of the FIJL in Spain, something about which the DI and FIJL activists in France were completely ignorant. So, when Octavio Alberola, the official FIJL delegate to the newly formed DI commission, returned from Mexico in March 1962 to kick-start the anti-tourist campaign that June, Guerrero Lucas and I were already considered “trusted comrades from the interior”.

‘So which one of you was responsible for Delgado and Granado’s arrest in 1963?’ asked Farquhar.

‘Both of us,’ replied Martínez. ‘Our case-officer, Chief Inspector Julián Oter del Valle, who was then second-in-command of the BPS, under Detective Chief Superintendent Vicente Reguengo — whom I only knew at the time as “Orozco” — insisted on corroborating our information. It seems we backed each other up. Orozco ran all the informers and agents among the émigrés. To be honest, I didn’t think for a minute they’d be garrotted. They’d done nothing other than been caught with explosives, guns and a radio-controlled detonation device.

‘Through either bad luck or bad planning —or both —two other comrades, Antonio Martín and Sergio Hernández, were in Madrid at the same time to plant devices in the DGS HQ in the Puerta del Sol and Falangist union headquarters, which is ostensibly why Delgado and Granado were executed — and so quickly — in spite of the fact there were no deaths or serious injuries.

‘The reality was that Carlos Arias Navarro, the then Director General of Security; his deputy, Martin Herreros; Madrid Police Commissioner José de Diego López; Lt Colonel Manuel González López of the Civil Guard’s intelligence service and Lt Colonel Eduardo Blanco, then head of the security service, had already been briefed

by Guerrero Lucas as to the purpose of Delgado and Granado’s mission. In fact, Guerrero Lucas always claimed that he was the original driving force behind setting up the DI. The authorities knew perfectly well that the only reason the two anarchists were in Madrid was to kill Franco at the ‘French Bridge’ the Puente de los Franceses — but they also knew that the plot had been aborted. That year’s presentation of the credentials of new ambassadors had been cancelled, which meant there would be no ceremony. Franco had already left for his summer holiday in San Sebastian, and Delgado and Granado were preparing to return to France.

‘In April I reported to Chief Inspector del Valle that Granado 75

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would be leaving Alès in May on a mission to assassinate Franco. I even gave him the make, model and registration number of the car he’d be driving — a Renault Frégate, licence plate number 719-FW-30 — but he already knew all the details, presumably from Guerrero Lucas, or possibly someone else.

‘Del Valle visited me five months later, in Alès, at the end of August, after the executions. He wanted to know what the DI was planning by way of reprisal. He brought me my thirty pieces of silver, and a pistol, in case anyone suspected I was the informer. As it happened, Guerrero Lucas’s disappearance from the scene immediately after the executions took the pressure off me. Once Delgado and Granado had been executed he had nothing more to do with the either the FIJL or the DI —or rather they would have nothing more to do with him. However, he did re-emerge a few months later in Toulouse, working with Esgleas and Montseny, the people he’d been so abusive about when he first arrived from Spain in 1961 claiming to represent the FIJL in the interior. He worked in the Rue de Belfort offices until sometime in 1970, apparently at the insistence of Commissioner Tatareau. Since then he’s been involved in setting up a police-security service Masonic lodge twinned with a new, covert, lodge called “Propaganda Due” which currently operates under the auspices of the Grand Orient of Italy —“The Federation of the Mixed International Masonic Order ‘Rights of Man’”, an allusion to the French Revolutionary declaration of the “Rights of Man and the Citizen. I doubt if he is aware of the irony of the name, but then again Guerrero Lucas never fully grasped the concept of irony. He was more into sarcasm.

‘You can imagine how uneasy I was in my role as comforter to Pilar, Granado’s widow. Paco and I had been friends, and Pilar had no family nearby. Her parents were still living in Spain, so when the French police informed her Francisco had been arrested it was me the poor woman turned to, devastated. It was horrendous when she learned that he’d been garrotted … ’ Martínez paused for a moment, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

‘Why are you telling us all this?’ asked Farquhar. ‘Are you planning to kill us now, or hand us over to the police or whoever it is you’re working for?’

‘No,’ he replied. ‘I meant what I said about helping you. As I said, believe it or not, I’ve a troubled enough relationship with my conscience without you two making matters worse. I’m not looking for redemption or retrospective absolution. I’ll soon be out of all this. I’m moving back to Spain to a little bar I’ve bought on the coast. I hope 76

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you’ll forgive me if I don’t tell you where, other than it’s nowhe re near Guerrero Lucas’s new furniture store.’

What he didn’t say was that the property had been bought for him by the DGS, as had the furniture shop for Guerrero Lucas.

Crossing the room, Martínez opened the door, indicating with the barrel of his automatic that Farquhar and Busquets should leave.

‘If we can meet up tomorrow night, about 7:00, in the bar across the road, I should have some information for you about Esgleas, and Cerrada’s murder — OK? Will that get you off my back?’

The two friends said nothing but quickly made their way to the door, relieved to get out of the apartment under their own steam, and not in a body-bag or in handcuffs.

Outside the street was enveloped in a velvety-green fog. Vague silhouettes flitted to and fro across the street. Beyond them, spectral outlines of people came and went into the night. Farquhar shivered and turned up his overcoat collar. Busquets tightened the belt of his trenchcoat.

‘Let’s get something to eat and find a pension for the night,’ said Farquhar. ‘We’ve a lot to think about. I know a place in the Gros Caillou district. It’s not far.’

Farquhar awoke next morning, a ray of sunshine burning through his eyelids into his brain. The mist had disappeared and it had turned into a bright but chilly autumnal day. The room was unheated and he had to marshal all his determination to get out of bed, wash, dress and make his way along the corridor to Busquets’s room where he found his friend sitting up in bed reading Germinal.

‘Sleep OK, compadre?’

‘Not really,’ replied Busquets. ‘I’ve been awake since five. By the way, have you read this?’ he asked, holding up the book. ‘I found it in the toilet last night and so far there don’t seem to be any pages missing.’

‘A long time ago,’ said Farquhar. ‘Why?’ ‘Well, there’s a character in it with a name just like yours, Macquart — Etienne Lantier’s father — Gervaise Macquart. Any relation?’

‘Don’t think so! Can’t say that I remember him,’ replied Farquhar, ‘but,’ he added with a grin, ‘with a name like that I’m sure he’ll be one of the good guys.’

‘Mmm, no, not really,’ said Busquets. ‘He was a drunk and a bit of a shit, but his son seems to have turned out all right.’

‘Anyway,’ continued Farquhar, ‘no time to waste. It looks nice out 77

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there. I’m off to exercise my old legs before they seize up completely — and to see if Lyon has improved any since I was last here. It’ll also give me a chance to see if there’s anyone tailing us. Are you coming?’

‘Not me,’ Busquets replied. ‘I’m not budging from here until I’ve had my breakfast. Apart from that, I don’t think it’s advisable for you to be walking about the streets in broad daylight. The papers might have published your photo or a description of you. The gendarmes at least will certainly have your description.’

‘Doubt it. Anyway, stay there and finish your book if you like. Me, I’m going for a morning constitutional. I’ll meet you at midday at Ricardo’s on the Quai Saint-Paul.’

‘Sounds OK to me. Have a nice time and, please, try to keep a low profile — and out of mischief.’

‘Si, señor,’ said Farquhar, closing the door. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Farquhar wandered through the grey streets as far as CroixRousse where he stopped at a bar for a café au lait and a flavourless pastry that had the texture of a bar of soap left in water overnight.

From there, a brisk three-quarters of an hour’s walk would easily get him to Ricardo’s bar by quarter past twelve. The fresh air and exercise would do him good.

The pale November sunshine made little difference to the city; it was still the same dreich place he remembered from 25 years ago.

Some cities are like that. There wasn’t even a pair of red panties drying on a balcony to brighten the street or raise his spirits.

Walking along the quays a thin, gaunt-faced individual in his late fifties, dressed completely in grey, appoached him. He looked familiar, although Farquhar couldn’t quite place him.

‘Got a light?’ the man asked, holding out a stubby, brown maize paper Boyards cigarette that was halfway between a cigar and a cigarette.

Producing a box of matches, Farquhar lit one and held the flame for the man in his cupped hands. Drawing heavily on the thick cigarette the stranger didn’t take his eyes off Farquhar once. Blowing the exhaled cigarette smoke to one side, he murmured: ‘Stay away from Ricardo’s. They are waiting for you.’

Farquhar was taken aback. ‘Excuse me, what do you mean? Who are “they” and why should “they” be waiting for me?’ Sliding his hand into his pocket he felt for the butt of his Star. ‘And who are you, and what makes you think I have a meeting at Ricardo’s?’

The gaunt man smiled. ‘Not very trusting, are you?’

‘Not particularly,’ answered Farquhar, scanning the street around him for cars or vans with suspicious-looking passengers.

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‘Good,’ said the man amiably. ‘Let’s have a glass of wine somewhere. You’ve plenty of time. Another ten minutes won’t hurt.

Nerves on edge, and without removing his hand from his overcoat pocket, Farquhar followed beside the stranger. Who was he and what were his intentions? Was he being led into a trap?

Turning into a side street they headed towards a discreet-looking bar in a small square opposite Ricardo’s. There was only one other customer in the premises, a fat elderly lady sat at an alcove table nursing a cadaverous-looking Pomeranian dog on her lap.

After ordering two glasses of Beaujolais at the bar, the men made their way over to a table by the window.

‘You needn’t be concerned by the fact I’m au fait with your movements,’ he said. ‘I’ve been following you around town since this morning.’

‘Why you are following me? Have I done something wrong?’ asked Farquhar, thinking perhaps he was a detective.

‘Well, you’ve certainly done nothing wrong this morning. I couldn’t possibly comment on what else you may have done. That’s beside the point, however, because, fortunately, I’ve been able to intercept you. If I hadn’t you’d probably be scratching your name on the brick walls of the Saint-Paul prison or lying in a shallow grave, which definitely would not have been to your liking.’

‘Get to the point, please,’ said Farquhar abruptly. ‘Who are you and what do you want with me?’

‘I’ll explain in a minute. First I want to bring you up to date. Last night you visited a man with a past, and a lot on his conscience — if he has one.’

‘You mean Martínez?’

‘Precisely. Martínez. An agent of the Social, the RG — and Esgleas.’

‘And?’ ‘Did you know?’

‘Not until last night I didn’t, not for certain anyway —but he did claim he was a sworn enemy of Esgleas.’

‘Your friend Juan Busquets was with you, and Martínez arranged to meet this evening at the La Guillotière bar?’

‘If you say so.’

‘Well, when you left he put one of his acolytes from the bar across the road on your tail who followed you to your hotel. His friends raided it this morning, passing themselves off as detectives from the police nationale, but both you and Busquets had already left.

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them she’d overheard you arrange to meet Busquets at Ricardo’s at mid-day.’

‘How do I know you are telling the truth?’ asked Farquhar. ‘If Martínez knew where we were staying he could have had us arrested or shot last night.’

‘True,’ replied the stranger, ‘but last night he hadn’t reported either to his superiors in Madrid, or to Esgleas, both things he put off until this morning. He obviously felt you’d be sufficiently intrigued with what he had to tell you that you would hang around until tonight.

Be that as it may, Ricardo’s is crawling with heavies, and right now your friend Busquets is caught in the crossfire of a “ready-eye” —even though he’s done nothing. Those characters in there are waiting for you in order to kill or kidnap you.

‘Are you suggesting I leave Busquets to face the music alone?’

The man shrugged.

‘He’s in deep trouble, but we can’t save you both. This is one of those occasions when Madame Fortuna has to run her course.’

‘You, maybe,’ replied Farquhar. ‘Not me! I’m not going to sit around and allow my friend to be arrested —and maybe tortured and killed, as you suggest — on my account.’

‘And what would be the point of that?’ said the stranger. ‘You’d be tilting at windmills. They’ll be on top of you as soon as you walk through the door of that bar. Believe me, those guys in there are pumping adrenalin and ready for anything.’

‘I’ll take my chances,’ said Farquhar. ‘Do you have Ricardo’s telephone number? I’ll call Busquets and tell him to get out of there as quickly as he can.’

‘That, my friend, is a more logical approach. Whoever these people are, they will think you can’t make the meeting and are arranging to meet up elsewhere. Yes, your friend might just stand a chance.’

‘You still haven’t told me who you are. You do look familiar though.’

‘Let’s just say I too am — or was, rather — an old friend and comrade of Cerrada’s. Another mutual old friend in Paris, Lucio Urtubia, asked me to look after you.’

Farquhar drew back the red curtain that masked the window from the street outside. Leaden, blue-grey clouds darkened the sky. Suddenly the heavens opened and the rain fell in a cascade, turning the cobbled street into a fast-flowing shallow river. The bistro where Farquhar and the stranger had sought shelter was part of a complex of buildings jutting out into the square, like the prow of a ship, giving them an 80

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unobstructed view of the terrace of Ricardo’s café. Farquhar stood up and walked to the telephone cabin.

After a few moments Busquets came to the phone. ‘Hi, amigo, just to let you know —in case you hadn’t already worked it out —that the bar is teeming with bad guys.’

‘Is that so?’ he replied, drily, ‘I can see at least five or six not very amenable-looking Neanderthals in here at the moment. They came in one after the other. There’s also a big black Citroen parked outside the door.’

‘Which door? I can’t see any car,’ said Farquhar.

‘The side door leading to the alleyway, not to the quays. These characters aren’t that stupid. Do you reckon all this is for our benefit?’

‘I suspect it’s more for me than you. At least I’ve just been told as much.’

‘So it’s you they’re waiting for. I was wondering why they hadn’t made their move already. What do you suggest we do now?’

‘What do you mean we?’ said Farquhar, but the sarcasm went over Busquets’s head; not that it was an appropriate time or place for gallows humour.

‘Seriously, amigo, we’re going to try and get you out of there, pronto.’

‘Who sold us out? As if I need ask … ’ said Busquets. ‘What have you got in mind? I can’t actually think of a plan at the moment, although I did shut the door to this telephone cabin so they can’t hear me, unless they’ve tapped the line of course. It’s not doing my nerves much good.’

‘Carpe diem!’ said Farquhar. ‘Make sure your gun’s loaded and the safety is off. When you leave the cabin, bang the door and act pissed off. Let the barman know that the person you’ve been expecting has been held up and is now waiting for you in a bistro at the other side of town, in the Fourvière district, and that you have to leave immediately.’

‘Yes. And then what?’

‘After that it’s all down to events, dear boy. You’ve a better chance of getting away from them on the street than in Ricardo’s. Also, if you do manage to lead them into Fourvière you’ll have an even better chance. It’s a rat’s warren of alleyways — an anthill. Remember, this isn’t Paris. There are no tourist signs. Duck into a close, dart through a courtyard, and suddenly you’ll find yourself in a passageway linking seven or eight different tenement buildings. Lyon was built for discretion. They are maniacs for privacy here.’

‘Yes, OK — and then what?’

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‘Well, once you’re outside, slip into the first close or alley you come to. As I said, it’s a labyrinth, something, which I suspect they may have overlooked if they think you’re not a native Lyonnais.’

‘OK. Wish me luck. I’m leaving now, if I can. If I can’t then this will be goodbye, tronco. Try not to get picked up. We’ve had some good times together, haven’t we, amigo?

‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ said Farquhar, trying to cover his emotions at his friend’s response. ‘You know fine well this will work. We’ve been through worse times, haven’t we?’

‘Have we?’

‘Anyway, I’ll meet you at the Bar des Autobus at seven o’clock tonight. The guy with me is a friend of Lucio and Cerrada. I’ve a feeling in my water that he’ll bring us luck, you just wait and see.’

‘Oh, that’s alright then,’ Busquets replied. Now it was his turn to be sarcastic. ‘See you later then,’ and hung up.

Farquhar returned from the phone booth and resumed his seat beside the stranger.

‘And?’ he asked.

‘You were right. Ricardo’s is full of bad guys. I’ve advised Busquets to feign disappointment that our meeting has been changed and that he should make a break for it once he’s outside and try to lose them in the Fourvière district.’

‘Good thinking,’ said the stranger.

Peering out cautiously from behind the red curtain Farquhar checked the street. The torrent of rain that had driven everybody indoors had stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The quay was all but deserted. His eyes were glued to Ricardo’s door, waiting for his friend to emerge. He’d be putting on his coat, saying his polite goodbyes, making his way to the door and …

Farquhar watched as Busquets emerged from the doorway, but not in the way he had hoped. His hands were up, and a thin and slightly stooped character with gold-rimmed glasses stood behind him, poking him in the back, probably with a pistol.

‘Bastard!’ Farquhar cried, leaping to his feet.

‘What’s up?’ asked the stranger, pulling back the curtain on his side of the table.

‘Shit!’ he said. ‘It looks as though he’s had it. They must have sensed something was up when he got your phone call.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ said Farquhar, white with fury as he took out his Star, checked his clip and clicked off the safety catch.

‘What are you planning to do with that?’ the stranger exclaimed.

‘I’m about to make myself an omelette,’ said Farquhar. ‘If all goes 82

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well — Inshallah! — you and I will meet again at seven o’clock this evening in the Bar des Autobus. If I’m not there on time, tell Lucio to have a large Glenmorangie in my memory. Good job I remembered my steroids this morning. Hasta luego!’

‘You’re loco!’ said the man, throwing up his hands.

But by that time Farquhar was outside and shuffling along as fast as his stiff knees and ankles could carry him towards Busquets who was standing on the kerb, his hands still in the air. ‘Dearie me, I’m getting too old for this sort of carry on,’ he thought grimly. A big black sedan was slowly turning the corner heading for the door of the bistro where the goons were filing out. The plan, no doubt, was to bundle his friend into the car and take him somewhere for interrogation; they would probably kill him.

Preoccupied with their captive, they failed to spot Farquhar trotting towards them. But Busquets did. When Farquhar was within fifteen feet or so of them, Busquets kicked backwards, catching the bespectacled character holding him at gunpoint in the groin. Howling a curse, the man folded like a knife and fell to the ground before the others realised what was happening.

Things were about to heat up.

Having broken free from his captors, Busquets grappled on the ground with his would-be kidnapper for the fallen gun. Farquhar’s priority, however, was to put their car out of commission, which he did by shooting out its tyres. The first rear tyre gave out a hiss and crumpled, as did the second. The gunshots, coming out of nowhere as it were, confused the heavies who ducked for cover, not knowing which way to turn. One of the more collected among them realised that Farquhar was the only one shooting and, drawing what looked like a Mauser, he began blazing away at their attacker.

Blinded by rage, intoxicated by adrenaline and rapidly gathering momentum, Farquhar carried on running straight towards the man who was shooting at him. The others stood there, stunned, frozen on the pavement like statues, uncertain what to do.

The whole thing lasted only a few seconds. Farquhar saw little spurts of flame spitting towards him from the Mauser barrel, but his luck held and none of the shots hit him. His own aim was no better.

He, too, missed his assailant every time. Each shot fired, however, was a shot wasted.

Stopping to take more careful aim, Farquhar squeezed the trigger and heard and felt the gun go off, but when the guy didn’t react he assumed he’d missed him. Again he fired, also without success. With 83

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the third shot the hammer clicked harmlessly — he was out of ammunition. Leaping on top of the man, he wrestled with him, face to face. Raising his fist, he gripped the Star by the barrel and delivered a powerful blow with the gun butt on his right temple. The man moaned and crumpled to the ground.

Grabbing his assailant’s Mauser, a breathless Farquhar fired two warning shots into the air. The line of dumbfounded men between him and Busquets parted. Amazingly, none of the bad guys had yet produced a weapon between them.

Ordering them to put their hands in the air and face the wall, legs apart, Farquhar indicated to Busquets to follow him.

Hurrying down the narrow side street, past the Théâtre Guignol and the public baths, they stumbled headlong around the first corner.

They made it just in time. Behind them they heard running feet, then a burst of fast automatic gunfire from what sounded like an Ingram Mac-10. As their pursuers turned the corner, hot on the heels of their quarry, the two comrades stopped suddenly in their tracks, spun around and began returning their fire. Bunched up together, their pursuers presented an unmissable target. One threw up his hands, swivelled and slumped to the ground. The firing ceased for a few moments, giving they two friends enough time to lose their pursuers in the maze of back streets and alleyways of old Lyon.

After a wash, a brush-up and a couple of carajillos in an out-of-the-way bistro, the two friends made their way to the Perache railway station, arriving at the Bar des Autobus at seven o’clock on the dot. The stranger was waiting for them in the far corner of the dimly lit bar.

Given a discreet nod that it was safe to approach, they joined him at his table.

‘I came more in hope than in expectation,’ he said. ‘I’d never have believed it possible for you to have survived that little contretemps.’

‘Don’t worry on our account,’ replied Farquhar. ‘We can look after ourselves. I don’t want to tempt fate by boasting about our prowess in these matters, but we’ve had more than enough experience. Who were they by the way — police or villains?’

‘Is there a difference?’ grunted Busquets.

‘Pistoleros —Spanish and Italian neo-fascist mercenary low-lifes, Guerrillas of Christ the King types, recruited and led by a couple of Spanish BPS officers,’ said the stranger.(10) ‘You were right. Cerrada’s murder and the attempt on you were to protect the interests of the Francoist “Bunker”, Esgleas, and his harridan of a wife, Montseny.

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Cerrada had to be eliminated because they believed he had learned of their involvement in the “Bunker” plot — Operación Bienvenida —to ensure that they wouldn’t stand trial for war crimes, and that they, the pillars of the old regime, would be able to re-invent themselves as “democrats” in time for next year’s elections, and beyond, with a ‘Pact of Silence’ about the past to ensure a trouble-free transition. They targeted you because they thought you knew too much; that you had the incriminating documents that would expose them. They knew he had files that probably implicated Esgleas and Montseny in corruption, embezzlement of union and movement funds, and in the betrayal of the action groups and regional and national committee members from the 1940s onwards. It was their treachery, or that of someone close to them, that cost the three Sabaté brothers and José Lluis Facerías their lives, and who knows how many more. It’s a long list.

‘Esgleas, I understand, was first recruited in 1939, in France, by Eduardo Quintela Bóveda, Franco’s police chief in Barcelona — the protégé of your old friend Manuel Bravo Portillo. Did you ever come across Quintela? Apparently he had something on Esgleas relating to his alleged homosexuality. Anyone with a secret or something shameful in their past, can be leaned on and persuaded to betray their closest friends, colleagues, principles — and their ideals.’

‘I knew of Quintela, of course,’ replied Farquhar. ‘Who at the time didn’t? Fortunately, I never “met” him. In 1917 he was a twenty-sixyear-old high-flyer, a friend of the Baron de Koenig, who joined Portillo’s Brigada Especial and quickly established himself as an “expert” on anarchists and anarcho-syndicalists. When Franco came to power in 1939, he made Quintela one of his fourteen principal police chiefs.’

‘Yes, but did you know that Esgleas and Montseny’s agent handler at the time was Eliseo Melis Díaz, the Brigada Especial agent provocateur who made a name for himself as a “militant” in Barcelona’s Textile and Fabric Union in the early years of the Republic? Melis was a regular Soli contributor — and a close friend of Esgleas and Montseny. No one knows how long Melis had been working for Quintela, but there’s no doubt he’d been his confidente for years. They were often seen together in public. What I found incredible was that even after he had been exposed as a police informer, despite everything, he was still able to convince otherwise intelligent comrades, including experienced defence and action group members — who should have known better — that he was working in the interests of the CNT from inside security HQ. They even elected him secretary of a clandestine regional committee of the CNT. Eventually 85

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voted him out of office, but even then he continued intervening directly in union affairs by claiming to be a member of an entirely fictitious anarchist group. You couldn’t invent a story like that!’(11) ‘It was never Quintela’s strategy to eliminate the CNT entirely.

He needed to ensure there was always an embryonic CNT in Spain, one whose activities and members he could monitor. He often said to his men: “The weekly union stamp doesn’t worry me in the slightest.

What is important is our ability to keep a finger on the pulse of the rank and file. We need to know who the militants are and what they are up to”. It was the defence groups that worried him, functioning as they did independently, beyond the control of both the internal and exiled organisations. This concern with the “uncontrollables” was the common ground — and common cause — Quintela had with Esgleas and other prominent “notables” of the emigré CNT leadership.

‘Esgleas recently held secret talks with DGS chief Eduardo Blanco in which he has apparently led him to understand that in spite of the rhetoric, the CNT’s objectives are not those voiced by the rank and file. He reassured Blanco that power and party politics were of no interest to the Confederation, and that it would be prepared to look sympathetically at the post-Francoist regime that most closely approximated its ideal. If legalised and its “patrimony” restored, the Organisation, that is the MLE/CNT(E) would throw its weight behind a “Pact of Silence’ and confine its activities to purely social and economic demands such as seeking better pay and improved working conditions for its members.(12) Not that Esgleas could ever presume to speak as a union representative as the CNT ceased to function as a union in April 1939, when it went into exile.

‘Talking of Eliseo Melis Díaz reminds me of our settling of accounts with Bravo Portillo in 1919,’ said Farquhar. ‘Anyway, as you seem to know everything about me would you mind reciprocating and telling me your name — and your connection with Cerrada and Lucio?’

‘I thought you might have recognised me by now,’ said the man, removing his beret. ‘Our paths have crossed a couple of times in the distant past. Don’t you remember me? Ramonín, Ramón Álvarez Palomo?’(13) ‘Of course!,’ said Farquhar, taken aback, Ramonín. Now I recognise you. You were arrested in Zaragoza with Durruti in 1934. I’m amazed I didn’t recognise you sooner.’

‘Well, we’re all getting on a bit,’ said Ramonín. ‘I’ve had cancer and lost a lot of weight, my hair’s gone too, but I can still sort the wheat from the chaff, if you catch my drift.’

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‘So what have you been doing with yourself? The last I heard of you was in the early 1960s. You’d been arrested in Paris, charged with possessing forged French and Spanish identity cards and driving licences. Didn’t you get sent down for that?’

‘No, I was only held on remand for a month,’ said Ramonín.

‘There was so much hostile press publicity that the French magistrate felt obliged to drop the charges and it never came to trial. I’ve kept a low profile since then, but I’ve always stayed in touch with FIJL secretary Marcelino Boticario, Cerrada, Juanel, Lucio, Pascual and an informal network of old friends and comrades, keeping an eye on what’s what — and who’s doing what. Which is why I’m here now — keeping an eye on you. So, tell me, what do you intend doing now?’

‘Right now?’ replied Farquhar. ‘We’re going after Martínez, aren’t we, compadre?’ he said, looking across at Busquets. The latter raised a quizzical eyebrow while nodding simultaneously with a cheeky grin and a twinkle in his eye.

‘OK,’ said Ramonín. ‘Meet me here tomorrow morning about ten and I’ll take you to see Boticario. Meanwhile, I’ll leave you to get on with things. But be careful. Try not to get yourselves shot or arrested tonight. I needn’t tell you to switch pensions. You should do that first, perhaps. If you go back to the other place it won’t only be your goose that is cooked.’

‘Don’t worry about us,’ said Farquhar. ‘They won’t catch us tonight — unless of course Dame Fortuna abandons us entirely.’

‘Until tomorrow then. At ten?’

‘OK.’ Ramonín stood up, shook their hands and walked to the door.

As the nondescript figure with the ill-fitting gabardine and beret disappeared from view, Farquhar mused to Busquets that unless one knew his history he’d be taken for a retired civil servant. Who would have thought that that old man had been, in his time, such a leading revolutionary tactician and activist? He still was, it seemed.

The two men headed back to La Guillotière, adrenaline bubbling inside them, ready to boil over at any moment. On the street outside the bistro a crowd was milling around. An elderly lady had been knocked down by a lorry and was still under the trailer. You could hear her pathetic groans as she slipped in and out of consciousness.

There was clearly nothing anyone could do for her. The gendarmes were talking to the driver as a paramedic and a passing priest attended to the woman. The bistro door was jammed with curious bystanders spilling out onto the pavement, among them the proprietress.

‘Has Monsieur Martínez been in?’ asked Busquets.

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‘Yes, he was here earlier. He had a beer, read the paper then left.’

Crossing the road, the two men skirted the crowds, ambulances and fire appliances, and made their way quietly up the staircase to Martínez’s apartment. Farquhar rapped on the door with the barrel of his Star.

Martínez opened the door, gingerly. His face tautened for a fraction of a second when he saw the two men. He too had a gun in his hand, which he lowered when he realised he was outgunned. He flashed them a toothy, rictal grin.

‘Hi, guys! Better late than never! Come in! I waited all afternoon for you.’

‘Don’t give us that crap, pal!’ said Farquhar, brusquely pushing past him, waving the Star in his face. ‘Our appointment was for seven o’clock.’

‘Whatever! But I was there earlier.’

‘I assume you heard what happened?’ said Busquets.

‘No. What happened?’

‘You lying bastard,’ said Farquhar. ‘We walked straight into an ambush, one for which you were probably responsible. Whoever they were, they came within a hairsbreadth of kidnapping or killing us both. Anyway, that’s bye-the-bye. Tell us what you know about Esgleas and Montseny. We need to end this now. Put the gun down.’

‘That’s not true, honestly, guys. They must have just stumbled across you, by chance.’

‘No they didn’t,’ said Busquets. There was menace in his voice.

‘Somebody tipped us off, someone who’s been watching you for some time.’

‘Who’s that?’ he asked curtly.

‘Ramonín.’

Martínez was visibly taken aback.

‘Don’t give me that. He said it was me who shopped you, did he?’ he cried.

‘Yes he did,’ said Farquhar, raising his gun and pointing it straight between Martínez’s eyes. ‘Don’t try anything foolish. This thing has a hair trigger.’

Realising he didn’t stand a chance, Martínez placed his gun on the table. Busquets grabbed it and slipped into his pocket.

Martínez tried to appear calm, but he couldn’t hold it for long.

The blood had drained from his face. One eye twitched like a semaphore lamp during the Battle of Jutland.

‘I swear I had nothing to do with whatever happened today,’ he said, an audible tremolo in his voice. ‘Ramonín and his friends have 88

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their own agenda. Honestly, I swear they’re lying.’

‘This isn’t the time for oaths, especially after what you admitted so candidly yesterday. You wanted us out of the way, didn’t you?

There’s a price to be paid for your fifteen years of treachery —a high price. You are a shit, Martínez, and you are teetering on the edge of the grave. Don’t burden your already damned soul with more lies.’

‘All right. I’ll tell you about the September meeting. It was to arrange the hit on Cerrada. Esgleas knew that Cerrada was in the process of acquiring his old Renseignements Généraux and other files, and was planning to expose him, using the journalist Eliseo Bayo to publish the story in the pages of Gaceta Ilustrada. Cerrada had heard from a contact in the French Interior Ministry that Esgleas was the source referred to in the files as “the Priest”. Esgleas didn’t say as much to me, obviously. I was merely the go-between sent, initially, to try to negotiate a deal with Cerrada. He told me to tell Esgleas that if it was the last thing he did he would make sure the world knew him for the squalid, duplicitous embezzler, confidente, provocateur and traitor that he was —and that he was now working for the “Bunker”. He thought even less of Montseny, blaming her more than her husband. “A manipulative, cold, inflexible, ambitious, vindictive, shameless harridan devoid of any conscience whose only interest is power.” Those were his exact words.(14) Mind you, she didn’t speak too highly of him either.

‘Anyway, you get the drift. Cerrada was convinced that the couple had been embezzling union-MLE funds and working for the Francoist and French special services ever since they arrived in France in 1939, perhaps even earlier. He was also convinced that they had been involved, laterally, in dealings with the “Bunker”. That, at least, was what Esgleas thought Cerrada knew. He was also convinced that Cerrada had acquired documentary evidence of their treachery and was planning to expose him and his links with the “Bunker” in the final part of Bayo’s series of articles on the Spanish Resistance in Gaceta Ilustrada. So, in conjunction with his intelligence services friends, they put out a contract on him, using Ramón Benicho Canuda, a former comrade turned low-life, a Jack Ruby type character, who had hated Cerrada since a serious falling out in the early ’50s. They also had someone from the Grupo Errico Malatesta in Venezuela lined up to do the deed, but that fell through and the job was left with Benicho Canuda, a man better suited for cold-blooded murder.

‘Bayo, the cynical LaRouche journalist who knew everything, wasn’t a problem. He had already been bought off. But then you appeared on the scene and jeopardised everything, yet another oldtimer writing his memoirs, and with access to Cerrada’s archives … ’ 89

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‘That’s enough,’ interrupted Farquhar. ‘I don’t need to hear any more of this miserable history.’

Farquhar was wondering how to end this standoff with Martínez. He wanted to kill him, not absolve him, but, confronted with the likelihood of imminent death, the traitor’s unexpectedly passive demeanour and frank explanation somehow made him seem more human, more frail, blunting Farquhar’s earlier anger. Apart from this burst of compassion, there were practicalities to consider: the problem of noise, for example. His Star didn’t have a silencer and the gunshot would have attracted too much attention, nor did he relish the thought of cutting Martínez’s throat with his Catalan throwing knife. Too messy. He was going soft in his old age.

‘Face the wall,’ said Farquhar suddenly, coming to a conclusion, ‘and get down on your knees, you bastard.’

Martínez obeyed with whatever dignity he could muster. He seemed to have come to terms with the fact that he was about to die. Perhaps he sensed it was a moment of catharsis, a settling of accounts with his troubled conscience — a happy ending, a resolution, that might have satisfied Hamlet Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought

Picking up the nearly empty pastis bottle from the table Farquhar brought it down as hard as he could on the back of the traitor’s head, shattering the bottle in the process. Martínez grunted and slumped to the floor, blood trickling from his ear into a viscous, deep crimson pool on the linoleum. Bending to feel his neck, Farquhar turned to Busquets and said: ‘He’ll live, but he’ll either have permanent brain damage or a very sore head in the morning. Either way, once the story gets out — which I’ll make sure happens — he won’t be informing on anyone else.’

No sooner had Farquhar said those words when, with a shiver, he suddenly recalled the chilling mental image and words of the monstrous agent provocateur Nikita, in Conrad’s Under Western Eyes, after bursting the eardrums of the anguished and guilt-ridden Tsarist agent Razumov who had voluntarily confessed that it was he who had betrayed the executed revolutionist Victor Haldin: ’Razumov, Mr Razumov! The wonderful Razumov! He shall never be any use as a spy on anyone! He won’t talk, because he will never hear anything in his life — not a thing! I have burst the drums of his ears for him. Oh, you may trust me. I know the trick. Ha! Ha! Ha! I know the trick.’

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Crossing to the sink Farquhar rinsed his hands under the tap.

Opening the bureau, he rummaged through its pigeon holes and drawers for any notebooks, address books, letters and relevant-looking documents he could find, throwing them, along with his gun, into Martínez’s briefcase. ‘Right, let’s go. We’re done here,’ said Farquhar.

‘Where to now, Kee-Mo Sah-Bee?’ replied Busquets, quoting his favourite TV character “El llanero solitario”. ‘And don’t call me Tonto!’

‘OK, trusty scout. First we have to let Ramonín and Boticario know what’s happened —unless of course they already know, which I wouldn’t put past them —then on to Toulouse to settle matters with Mr and Mrs Macbeth.’

NOTES 1: Defensa Interior (DI) was set up in 1961 under pressure from the younger and

more radical rank-and-file militants of the Libertarian Youth organisation (FIJL) who, inspired by the young Cuban revolutionaries’ success in toppling Batista, wanted to play a more active role in resisting the Franco regime. Germinal Esgleas, Vicente Llansola and Miguel Celma Martín, the CNT/MLE leadership at the time, agreed to the setting up of this clandestine action organisation, presumably in the belief that it was the best way of monitoring and controlling its activities. This unholy trinity drafted the secret statutes and set about raising the necessary funds, which it put at ‘at least ten million New Francs’. Most of this money came from the Swedish SAC — Central, local sections and individuals — which promised to fund a fresh phase of the anti-Franco struggle. Esgleas and Llansola controlled the DI’s finances throughout and had, theoretically, oversight of its strategy and tactics, and nominal approval of its mission projects, which were supposedly directed towards toppling the regime, mainly by targeting one of the key elements of the Francoist economy — tourism.

Of the ten million francs, Esgleas only ever released 200,000 francs. He and his cronies pocketed the rest —and never provided any accounting for the donations.

Even when confronted directly by the highly respected Swiss anarchist André Bösiger, a man of confidence and the original conduit for Swedish and US trade union funds to the CNT, they refused to explain why no money had been made available either to the DI or to the prisoners’ welfare organisation in Spain.

In 1966 Helmut Rüdiger, a German anarchist, former head of the CNT-FAI’s German Affairs Bureau and, in 1937, AIT secretary in Barcelona (he also worked for the British SIS during WWII), went to Madrid to seek clarification from the comrades there as to whether or not they had been receiving the funds (well over £1m sterling) that the Swedes had sent to them via Toulouse. Unfortunately, Rüdiger died in strange circumstances his hotel room before they could meet. A Portuguese comrade waiting for him in the hotel lobby reported a distressedlooking man, whom she didn’t know, rushing down the stairs and running out of the building. When Rüdiger failed to appear, the Portuguese comrade went to his room where she found his body. He had allegedly suffered a massive heart attack.

She did say that when they met earlier he had seemed unusually tense and nervous.

Esgleas and Llansola even went as far as to accuse Cipriano Mera, the only

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 successful republican general of the Civil War —a comrade of indisputable integrity and a dignified and honest man — of embezzling DI funds. As a result of this calumny Mera was later expelled from the CNT in much the same way as they dealt with Laureano Cerrada fifteen years earlier.

The other role assigned to the DI was the planning and implementation of assassination attempts on General Franco, none of which came close to succeeding.

Incompetence, bad luck, Franco’s barraka, agent infiltration and police informers were all contributory factors in these failures, but probably the most important reason they failed was due to the machinations of Esgleas, Montseny, and Esgleas’s right-hand men Vicente Llansola and Miguel Celma, who obstructed and thwarted DI operations at every opportunity. Esgleas and Llansola were the FAI appointees on the seven-man committee appointed by the MLE Executive Council to approve all clandestine operations and recruitment to Defensa Interior action groups.

Llansola, with Esgleas’s blessing, tmaneouvred himself into assuming sole responsibility for organising the attempts on Franco’s life. Throughout his tenure, however, not only did he do nothing, he consistently blocked every plan Cipriano Mera and Octavio Alberola (the son of the rationalist teacher and respected activist José Alberola) put before the DI Commission, resisting any action that might remotely destabilise the regime or help accelerate its downfall. The FAIstas also tried, unsuccessfully, to prevent the FIJL — in the person of Octavio Alberola from Mexico — being represented on the DI commission. FIJL activists, the principal partisans of violent actions against the Franco regime, were ‘uncontrollables’ in the eyes of the French security services and the émigré Toulouse leadership, and presented a serious and ever-present danger to the legal standing of the Organisation in France.

Under these circumstances the DI survived for less than two years as an official section of the MLE. The coup de graçe occurred in August 1963 following the arrest, drumhead court martial and execution in Madrid of two young DI comrades — Joaquin Delgado and Francisco Granado —for allegedly planting explosive devices in the headquarters of both Franco’s secret police and the fascist labour unions.

These bombings had been DI operations, but neither Delgado nor Granado were involved. It was two other DI activists, Antonio Martín and Sergio Hernández, who were responsible. It was clear, however, from the speed with which Delgado and Granado were arrested that the Brigada Politico-Social knew exactly who they were, why they were in Madrid, and that the explosives they were caught with were intended for an assassination attempt on Franco — and that the attempt had been aborted!

In spite of the apparent differences of the political systems they served, Franco’s special services and their French counterparts had worked together closely since the early 1950s, a relationship cemented in the late 1950s and early 1960s when the Algerian National Liberation Front (FLN) took their armed struggle for independence to cosmopolitan France, as did the French ultra-right pro-Algerian settler Organisation de l’Armée Secrète (OAS) and the Vieil État-Major who used Spain as their operational base. French security service officers were seconded to the DGS HQ in Madrid’s Puerta del Sol while Spanish Brigada Politico-Social officers worked from an office in the French Interior Ministry in the Place Beauvau in Paris. In a major quid pro quo operation in 1963, French police cracked down heavily on DI activists in France and outlawed the FIJL. while Franco’s police clamped down on the activities of the OAS and their neo-fascist sympathisers in Madrid and Alicante where they had been organising equally unsuccessful attempts on de Gaulle since the French pieds-noirs migrated there in 1960, following the siege of Algiers.

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1976: NOTES After Delgado and Granado’s tragic deaths, Esgleas and Llansola resigned from the DI, accusing it of usurping MLE Council authority (i.e., they couldn’t control it). And, although they succeeded in formally winding up the DI as an official section of the CNT in 1965, that didn’t prevent its activists from promptly reforming as the International Revolutionary Solidarity Movement — First of May Group, a Europe-wide network of autonomous action groups. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, this informal network evolved, in France and Spain, into the action groups known as the GARI, in Britain into what was called the Angry Brigade, and in Germany into the June 2 Group. Their existence was proof of the old adage that theory divides, but action unites. As for the FIJL, it effectively ceased to exist after the events of the ‘hot’ summer of 1968, and the fiasco of that year’s international anarchist Congress in Carrara, Italy.

2: The issue of the informer’s identity was muddied by the fact that most people believed that the confidente was another low-life by the name of Jacinto Guerrero Lucas, who was identified as being responsible for the arrest of Delgado and Granado in 1963. What everyone overlooked or ignored was that the Spanish and French police clearly had more than one informer in place.

3: The twelve-man ‘counter-gang’ of neo-fascist and ultra-right-wing Catholic gangsters involved in the killing of Cerrada and the two attempts to murder Farquhar in Paris and Lyon were led by BPS inspectors Roberto Balladé and Emilio Egea Tineo, who were part of what was known as ‘Operación Bienvenida’, a CESID (Centro Superior de Información de la Defensa) organised campaign of terror and intimidation led by Lt Colonel Federico Quintero Morente and Joaquín Díaz Moreno of the Civil Guard Secret Service. The gang answered directly to Commissioner Escudero.

Apart from Benicho Canuda, Cerrada’s killer, the other ‘foot soldiers’ included well-known ultra-right wingers Carlos García Juliá, José Fernandez Cerdá, Fernando Lerdo de Tejada (nephew of the personal secretary of Blas Piñar, the Catholic Integrist and leader of Fuerza Nueva), Francisco Albadalejo Corredera, and Italian neo-fascists Carlo Cicuttini and Stefano Della Chiaie. The Italians had been sheltered by the Franco regime for the previous five years following their own attempts to destabilise Italy in the 1960s and early 1970s, provocations that culminated with their bosses’ failed ‘operazione Tora! Tora! Tora!’ coup d’état in Italy in December 1970. It was payback time. It seemed that the state-backed murder campaign Farquhar had lived through during the pistoleros era of 1919-1924 was about to be repeated. The purpose of Operación Bienvenida —as this soon-to-be wide-ranging killing spree was referred to — was to destabilise the ‘Transition’ process, maintain the hegemony of the Francoist regime, prevent the left coming to power as had happened in Portugal in 1974 (and was also in danger of happening in Italy under Aldo Moro, which was why he was murdered), stop NATO’s Southern European flank from crumbling, thwart progress of the imminent Political Reform Act and, ultimately, to ensure that the right dominated Spain’s first all-party elections the following June; in other words, Francoism without Franco —and a Mediterranean controlled by the US Sixth Fleet. The principal threat to the Bunker’s interests came from the trade unions, labour organisations, the CNT, the Spanish Communist Party (PCE) and the Workers’ Commissions (CCOO), who were pushing the hardest for a thorough-going reform of the regime and the ‘dissolution’ of the repressive forces of the old regime. Their strategy was to directly target the most vociferous of those demanding justice of those responsible for crimes of expropriation, repression, murder and torture committed since Franco’s bloody victory in April 1939; in effect the people and labour organisations demanding

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 ‘accountability’ and a Spanish Nuremberg War Crimes Tribunal. Earlier that year on 18 May they had tried to murder opposition leader Professor Enrique Tierno Galván by exploding a bomb at a commemorative dinner being held in his honour by friends and colleagues at the ‘El Bosque’ Chinese restaurant in Madrid. Worse was to follow. In December, the same people tried to murder Communist Party leader Santiago Carrillo, and a few weeks later, they raided the Madrid offices of radical labour lawyers near the Atocha Station killing five and injuring four.

No other country in Europe has been as silent about its past as has Spain. The deaths of tens of thousands of anti-fascists remain unrecognized to this day by the current legal system; upwards of 100,000 people had disappeared between 1939 and 1951 and few, other than the guilty, knew their fate or where they were buried, or if they did they were still too frightened to tell. If the calls for justice succeeded, thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of the regime’s supporters with blood on their hands, or who had benefited from their complicity in blood crimes, systematic torture, slave labour and countless other crimes against humanity, would have been indicted and faced possible imprisonment or at least been deprived of the properties and wealth they had looted and accumulated on the back of Franco’s military-fascist uprising between July 1936 and April 1939.

Esgleas’s and Montseny’s role in Operación Bienvenida — at least as envisaged

by Police Commissioner Conesa Escudero —was to ensure that the CNT —whose new generation of militants remained an untested, unknown and uncontrollable quantity in post-Francoist Spain, but which was still, possibly, the most influential and numerous of the labour organisations — remained divided, opposed to the armed struggle and its principal organisers — Cipriano Mera, José Peirats, Francisco Gómez Peláez and Octavio Alberola — marginalised. They needed the surviving historic prominent leaders in Toulouse, specifically Federica Montseny and Germinal Esgleas, to acquiesce to the Bunker’s demands for an ‘amnesty law’.

This proposal was to be supported by the Toulouse leadership cabal as a quidpro-quo that would free the country’s remaining political prisoners, legalise the still-clandestine CNT, permit the return of exiles and, possibly, open the way for reparations for union property and goods seized between 1936 and 1939. For the Bunker, more importantly, it meant a clean slate; no criminal investigations or prosecution for those who had killed, tortured, imprisoned and plundered under the banner of Franco’s ‘Glorious National Movement’. They had already done a deal with socialist leader Felipe González that committed the socialists to a ‘pact of silence’ — basically an agreement to ignore everything that had happened in Spain over the previous forty years; a promise to implement a policy of forgetting the past, including any reference to the horrendous crimes of the Franco regime.

All that remained now was a similar agreement with the remaining historic ‘leaders’ of the CNT — or at least one that would either ensure their silence or show a divided opinion on the subject. The Spanish Communist Party (PCE), a considerably more important organisation in 1976 than it had been in 1936, was not included in the equation; with the Cold War in full swing the Spanish officer class, backed by the US State Department and the Pentagon, remained solidly opposed to the Party’s legalisation.

4: An action group finally got to Melis, at noon on 12 July 1947, as he was playing billiards in a café in the Plaça Buensuceso. The plan, originally, had been to kidnap him and offer him his life in return for identifying Quintela’s agents and confidentes. Unfortunately, in the tussle he broke away from the six-man action group escorting him to their vehicle and ran up a close in the Carrer Montalegre, pursued by Manuel Pareja, a former Commissar of the 104th Brigade during the

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1976: NOTES Civil War. As Pareja stopped to orient himself in the darkness, Melis, who had a clear view of his silhouette from his vantage point on the stairhead, opened fire and fatally wounded him. In spite of his injuries, Pareja carried on crawling towards Melis, firing as he went, eventually wounding the secret policeman. At that point, another comrade, Antonio Gil, ran up the stairs to where Melis lay wounded and delivered the coup de graçe to the traitor and provocateur. Ángel Marín Pastor, a former member of the Durruti Column and on the Toulouse-based MLE leadership committee, was another of Esgleas’s men on Quintela’s payroll who regularly passed on information about the action groups’ incursions into the interior. Marín seems to have been recruited by Quintela and Melis following his arrest in October 1945, being released without charge or conviction after only a few months detention. Melis escaped at least two previous assassination attempts through this character’s treachery. In April 1946, Marín and Juan Ferrer, another CNT courier, were returning to France clandestinely when the latter was murdered in mysterious circumstances. Enrique Marco Nadal, on the other hand, the secretary general of the CNT in Spain from May 1946 until April 1947, served 17 years in Francoist prisons when his death sentence was commuted. Unlike Marín, Marco Nadal rejected Quintela and Melis’s attempts to recruit him as an informer.

5: In 1931 a similar secret deal was struck between General Mola, then Director General of Security, and CNT General Secretary Ángel Pestaña, who allegedly assured him that he could reply on the trade union leadership to keep the rank and file out of militant action. Mola, however, doubted the leadership’s ability to do so. In his memoirs, Obras Completas (1940), Mola recalled: ‘Insofar as their aspirations were concerned, they were simply none other than achieving for the working class those legal rights that were due to them as producers ... applying constant pressure to progress, little by little.’

6: Ramonín was another legendary figure in the movement. His forged identity cards and driving licences were, arguably, better that Cerrada’s. As an apprentice baker he joined the CNT in Gijón at the age of fifteen, and by the time he was eighteen he was secretary of the local bakers’ union. Later, as regional secretary for Asturias he was arrested with Durruti as a member of the revolutionary committee during the 1934 uprising.

In July 1936, during the first days of the Revolution, he was a member of the Gijón defence commission and, later, was active in the Resistance and the escape lines in occupied France. After the Liberation he was a signatory to the May 1945 manifesto that denounced the corrupt Toulouse leadership of Montseny and Esgleas. In November that year he was elected secretary-general of the NC subcommittee in France, a position he held until 1947 when he distanced himself completely from the ‘official’ CNT in Toulouse.

7: Cerrada was one of the few comrades who, in the aftermath of the Liberation, were committed both to direct action and to supporting Esgleas’s position vis-àvis the National Committee of Juan Manuel Molina (‘Juanel’) . It wasn’t because he liked Esgleas. He despised him, for promoting inertia and effectively paralysing the organisation, but for pragmatic logistical and selfish reasons it suited Cerrada’s purpose to maintain his connection with the official exile organisation in Toulouse.

Cerrada was old school — anti-political and critical of the National Committee of the Interior’s decision to collaborate with the republican government in exile and the Alianza Nacional de Fuerzas Democraticos, the umbrella organisation that united most of the anti-Stalinist resistance: republicans, nationalists, socialists, anarchists and even the POUM — everyone that is except the Communist-led

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 Union Nacional Española. Cerrada thought the CNT should go it alone and have nothing to do with the parliamentary parties, even though the Alianza was possibly the most effective instrument the disparate clandestine anti-fascist organisations had to continue the struggle against the regime.

Esgleas detested Cerrada, but his greed and constant need for money sucked him irrevocably into the latter’s orbit. It was a marriage of convenience, each ignoring the other’s character flaws, at least in the short term. Cerrada provided the funds while Esgleas, as National Secretary, pulled the strings of the MLE in exile and manoeuvred to dominate the Organisation in Spain and bring it under his control.

The relationship didn’t last long. Cerrada’s financial and material support for the guerrilla groups in Spain, along with his involvement in all sorts of illegal jiggery-pokery in France, were causing the émigrés serious problems with the French authorities. By late 1947 and early 1948, the onset of the cold war meant realpolitik had subordinated and subsumed the anti-fascist euphoria and solidarity that had predominated in France in the heady days of the Liberation, with all the café-bistro talk of sending tanks and armies over the Pyrenees to rid Europe of the last of the fascist dictators.

By 1948, Spain had signed important trade and commercial deals with France, and with US support the Franco regime now had the diplomatic leverage it previously lacked. So, when Spain’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs complained to France about the increasing numbers of guerrilla incursions, the smuggling of war materiel and propaganda, and, more importantly, the millions of forged pesetas that were flooding the country from anarchist sources, i.e., Cerrada, the French authorities took matters seriously. Forged pesetas affected them too, probably more than anything else.

Also, as the public face of the CNT in exile, the high-profile Montseny was the scapegoat. It was her name that appeared as the principal mover and shaker in all the communiqués between Madrid and Paris. According to the police reports from Madrid, she was the ‘director’ of a secret Toulouse-based ‘School of Terrorism’.

If any one person was central to these activities, it was Cerrada, especially after acquiring the Bank of Spain’s high-denomination intaglio printing plates from anarchist partisans in Milan in 1945. He became obsessed with bankrupting the Franco regime, which was why Esgleas and Santamaria of the FAI went to such lengths to get the plates from him. Their masters in the French and Spanish special services leaned on them heavily, ordering them to get the plates back ‘or else!’

Cerrada had to go. The problem was that Esgleas and Federica were too deeply compromised in their relationship with him, financially and morally, to exert any influence him. The reality was he terrified them, which was why Esgleas stood down as National Secretary in 1947 to allow José Peirats to take over and initiate the process of expelling Cerrada from the CNT, which they finally achieved on the grounds of ‘inadmissible and immoral methods’.

Apart from questions of morality or the ethics of Cerrada’s illegal and clandestine activities, the Toulouse ‘notables’ were more concerned about the French police uncovering his complex criminal empire and implicating them in a conspiracy charge that would compromise the emigré organisation. Matters came to a head in 1950, when on ‘information received’, the French police arrested Cerrada for forging the new issue German Deutschmarks. During their investigations the police discovered that almost everyone in Toulouse’s Rue

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1976: NOTES Belfort was on Cerrada’s payroll, and that he held substantial IOUs from Esgleas and Montseny. Interestingly, in the run up to his arrest, Cerrada had been proving such a nuisance to the Toulouse notables —and the authorities on both sides of the border —that Esgleas and Santamaria even discussed the possibility of having him murdered Organising his arrest was a much simpler solution.

This was when the Francoist authorities were pressing not only for extraditions and the closure of the Spanish anarchist press in France — which they succeeded in doing for a time — they were also pressing the French authorities to expel all the emigrés from the border area, something the French authorities were seriously considering. A French Interior Ministry report in February 1951, commissioned in the wake of the Lyon postal van robbery, stated that all the Spaniards arrested on robbery charges in southern France were CNT members.

By the time Cerrada came out of jail in the mid-1950s the cold war was in full swing and Esgleas’s faction had won the power struggle. The armed guerrilla campaign in Spain was effectively over. With most of the rank-and-file exiles demoralised and fearful of extradition, deportation or losing their residency rights, and intimidated by the severity of the crackdown on Spanish émigrés that followed in the wake of the January 1951 Lyon bank robbery, Esgleas and his cronies had had no problems convincing the membership that the CNT should break, definitively, with all clandestine actions and its links with the action groups — over 200 of whose members had been killed in incursions into Spain since 1944. Esgleas’s platform for re-election as National Secretary in 1952 was predicated on the argument of a ‘clean’ CNT dedicated exclusively to promoting union activity in Spain. By this time most of the exiles, influenced by Montseny’s sophistry and powerful personality, supported the Committee’s position. They didn’t want a debate, they just wanted the security of Esgleas’s dogma and orthodoxy, and to be rid of the troublesome ‘uncontrollables’.

Eleven years of hardship, struggle, disorientation and frustration had passed since they had first been uprooted, torn from their villages, barris, cultural roots and traditions and forced into exile as displaced persons, with little or no prospect of ever returning home. Since then their lives had revolved around beach concentration camps, ration cards, agency numbers, Nansen passports — and the goodwill of their hosts. These people weren’t émigrés like Farquhar who made a conscious choice to leave his native land and travel the world, settling wherever the mood took him; they were immigrants, aliens —exiles in a strange land with all the insecurity and stigma that state of being, that mentality, entails.

Even so, they were beginning to be accepted and were adjusting to life in their new homeland, putting down new roots, when their situation was suddenly thrown into jeopardy, in January 1951, when a group of Spanish anarchists, including Juan Català, a former member of the Durruti Column, the SIEP and one of Ponzán’s top passeurs, ambushed a post office van in Lyon, killing one person and injuring nine innocent bystanders in the process. The Spanish and rightwing French press had a field day demonising the entire Spanish republican diaspora with lurid stories about the criminal and murderous activities of ‘gangs of Spanish reds’ who were roaming the country exploiting French hospitality. It was a very unsettling event that many of the exiles were convinced placed them in serious jeopardy. Hence the increased hostility to the action groups and people like Cerrada and ‘Quico’ Sabaté.

If Cerrada hadn’t been aware of Esgleas’s treacherous role before, he certainly was by the time he was released in the mid-1950s. While he was inside he

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 learned from his lawyer that it was Esgleas who had betrayed him to Commissioner Tatareau, head of the French security service in the Eastern Pyrenees, regarding the existence and location of his clandestine printshop in the Tartas Monastery. After that Cerrada began collating whatever information he could glean about Esgleas and his wife.

Montseny’s first stumble down the slippery slopes occurred in 1940 when she was arrested in German occupied Paris in possession of forged identity papers which had been supplied by Cerrada. In return for a Nazi laissez-passer back to safety in Vichy, where Esgleas had purchased the farm in the Dordogne, she bartered fourteen cases of highly sensitive SERE files (Servicio de Evacuación de Refugiados Españoles) in her possession. The pass had been arranged through her friend, André Berthon, a pro-Nazi lawyer who worked closely with the Greater Paris Kommandatur, and who had represented Nazi interests in France prior to the Occupation. Montseny later claimed the SERE files were burnt during a fire in her apartment, Apart from Barcelona police chief Eduardo Quintela, Bertrán y Musitu of the SIFNE also had his claws into Esgleas. Franco’s foreign intelligence chief had accessed Esgleas’s secret numbered bank accounts in Geneva, funds he had embezzled from the CNT, FAI, SAC and other pro-republican support organisations.

The Vichy police eventually arrested Esgleas in late October 1941, but unlike many other prominent anarchist and republican exiles in a similar situation, he wasn’t extradited back to Spain to face a firing squad or the garrotte. Instead he received a relatively mild three-year jail sentence. The leniency shown to him probably had to do with the fact that he used his influence within the exile community to oppose collaboration with the Allies. He also openly denounced the resistance activities of comrades such as Francisco Ponzán Vidal, organiser of one of the most efficient Resistance escape and evasion lines. Notes in the French Justice Ministry archives acquired by Cerrada, show it was Franco’s ambassador in Paris, José Félix de Lequerica, who had intervened on Esgleas’s behalf.

Ironically, Esgleas was sprung from of Nontron military prison 20 months later, in June 1943, by the very people he had denounced — and possibly betrayed — the Spanish autonomous guerrilla groups — in his case by maquisards led by Communist Emilio Álvarez Canossa. All the freed prisoners, including Esgleas, joined the maquis, but — surprise, surprise — he didn’t stay long. Within two months Esgleas was back home in Salon with Montseny, claiming illness and manoeuvring to reassert his authority over the CNT both in exile and in Spain.

Soon afterwards, in November 1943, the entire Regional Committee of Catalonia was arrested. In fact, six National Committees fell in rapid succession after that.

Was it a coincidence? We’ll probably never know.

Montseny herself was arrested by the Vichy authorities in August 1941, on an extradition warrant alleging robbery and murder in Spain, but was released three months later, in November. Again, very strange when you consider the fate of other less prominent exiles, especially ex-ministers, in metropolitan France and French North Africa.

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1921: 1 JANUARY — CLASS WAR

January 1921 proved to be another bad month for the CNT. The first officially registered case of the ley de fugas occurred less than a week after the legislation approving it passed into law. Prisoners were being removed from their cells in the middle of the night on the pretext of being transferred to the Modelo and murdered in cold blood close to the police station or Guardia Civil posts where they had been held.

The practice had been going on for years — the difference now being that it was legal, de jure rather than de facto! In the four years between 1919 and 1922 at least 1,200 people were murdered in this campaign of state terror.

Open and bloody class warfare broke out on the streets of Barcelona during that first week of January. Josep Julí, a CNT shop steward, was the first victim, shot dead on his way home from work.

Although the CNT had no single charismatic leader apart from, perhaps, Salvador Segui, nor any institutional centre, and with most of its prominent spokesmen dead, behind bars or in exile, it was still, nonetheless, the major challenge to the state and to capitalism in Spain.

Much of its dynamic came from the rank-and-file activists in the defence groups, in particular, from the CNT Defence Committee coordinators, Ramón Archs and Pedro Vandellós Romero, whose key role in the action groups remained largely unknown to the authorities, which enabled the groups to strike back effectively.

The day after Julí’s murder one of the groups made a third successful attempt on the life of renegade cenetista, María Sans, a survivor of the Baron de Koenig gang.

Archs learned that Sans was back in Barcelona working as a 99

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travelling salesman, and that he had an appointment that afternoon in a second-hand clothes shop in the Carrer Valencia. As Sans opened his suitcase on the counter to display his wares to the shopkeeper, two men entered the shop behind him, locked the door and shot him dead.

At his autopsy they found a tattoo on his forearm with the slogan ‘Viva la anarquia!’

Police informers and infiltrators have always been a serious problem for unions and movement activists; it is something they have to learn to live with if they are to avoid compromising the democratic principles on which labour unions should be built; the best you can hope to do is identify and isolate the infiltrators and provocateurs.

Francisco Villena, the chairman of the CNT’s Water, Gas and Electrical Workers’ Union, was a case in point. Villena was the man with whom I had travelled to Madrid the previous year to meet Dato, when I found that he was carrying a gun in a place and a situation that could only have been authorised by Arleguí. Archs and Vandellós had long been convinced Villena was an informer, a confidente, but without proof there was little anyone could do.

Meanwhile, the murderous onslaught by police and Libres gunmen on union members continued throughout January. On the 6th, the Clot barri committee of the CNT organised a family party in the Font del Quento to celebrate the Day of the Kings —Epiphany —when suddenly dozens of police invaded the hall arresting everyone, including the women and children, and took them off to various police stations to be ‘processed’.

Later that day Ácrata Vidal and Pedro Álvarez Montana were picked up in the Carrer Viladomat and charged with membership of an illegal organisation —the Graphic Arts Union of the CNT. The following morning their mutilated bodies were discovered in the street. Two days later, another cenetista, Manuel Valero, was murdered by Libres gunmen in a bar in the Carrer Jerusalem, near the Ramblas. And so it went on, growing worse with each passing day — arrests, beatings, tortures, murder and disappearances.

Nor did the defence groups confine their actions to Barcelona. On the 8th, someone tried to kill Valencia’s governor, while in Bilbao another group shot and killed Manuel Gómez, the notorious managing director of Altos Hornos de Vizcaya, the biggest iron and steel plant in Spain. January also saw a fresh wave of localised strikes sweep across Catalonia.

With the situation fast deteriorating, Ramón Archs and Pedro Vandellós called an emergency meeting of the Defence Committee in the back 100

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room of the Bar Novelty. About twenty or thirty people turned up and there was a heated debate about tactics and logistics, but by the end of the evening the consensus was that the groups needed to act in a more coordinated manner.

They would retain their autonomy, but to avoid crossed wires and unnecessary duplication of efforts and targets, it was agreed that all actions would be coordinated through Archs. It was also agreed, unanimously, that the first target had to be Arleguí’s ‘hatchet man’, police inspector Antonio Espejo. Espejo was the stringpuller and pointman behind most of Barcelona’s death squads.

For security reasons, Archs and Vandellós decided that the Espejo hit should be carried out by outsiders — the Valencian comrades who had carried out the recent attack on the governor of Valencia. These were unknown ‘faces’ in Barcelona; they would come in, do the job and leave immediately afterwards, with no one any the wiser.

That was the plan. Unfortunately Espejo learned of their arrival — whether through an informer in Valencia or Barcelona we don’t know — and the four comrades, Juan Villanueva, Julí Peris, Ramón Gomar and Antonio Parra, were arrested in the Café Español in the Paral.lel on the morning of 18 January, shortly after they arrived.

After taking his prisoners to police headquarters, where they were charged with the attempted murder of the governor of Valencia, Espejo and his colleague Inspector Ferrer returned to the Café Español to take witness statements from staff and customers. Their task completed, the two men left the Café, walking along the Carrer Conde del Asalto as far as the Ramblas, where they went their separate ways.

As Espejo made his way down the Carrer Ancha he was unaware that he was being followed at a discreet distance by comrades from a CNT defence group.

As Espejo stopped to let a dust cart pass at the corner of the narrow alleyway that runs alongside the church of Santa Maria de Mar, the cenetistas closed in on the murderer. A man in a grey mackintosh approached Espejo, tapped him on the shoulder and, as he turned round, shot him twice — once between his eyes and another in his black heart. The only detail any of the witnesses remembered about the killer was that he wore a grey mackintosh.

From that moment on the ‘man in the grey mackintosh’ acquired near mythical status, on a par with rumours of Zapata’s white stallion being seen in the hills of Morelos; he was reportedly present at many other ‘settling of accounts’.

Espejo’s death was quick — quicker than he deserved.

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arrested and charged with Espejo’s murder, but, according to the Carlist newspaper La Protesta, the real killers were José Domingo — ‘El Marino’ — and Eusebio Liciaga, who had escaped to France.

That same day, 18 January, Archs received confirmation that Francisco Villena, chairman of the CNT’s Water, Gas and Electricity Union, was indeed a police agent, an Arleguí confidente. Villena died that night at 10:30, shot dead by Buenaventura Telon and Albert Coll as he was leaving the La Flor de Maig Cooperative in the Carrer Montaña in Clot.

When Arleguí learned of Espejo’s death, he and Severiano Martínez Anido went straight to the morgue to pay their ‘respects’ to the remains of their ‘man of confidence’ and swore, over his body, to avenge him. Convinced that his protégé’s murder had been a reprisal for the arrest of the four Valencianos the previous morning, Arleguí ordered that they should be the first to pay for Espejo’s death.

Next morning, before dawn, the four Valencian cenetistas were brought up from the subterranean dungeons where they had been held overnight, handcuffed and taken under escort — on foot — to the Modelo prison halfway across town. Needless to say they never made it. The dark deed was done as they were being marched through the deserted Carrer Calabria, a secluded and dilapidated side street in which most of the windows were shuttered or boarded over.

Falling back a number of paces, the police patrol levelled their rifles and opened fire on their defenceless charges. Antonio Parra was the first to fall. Thrown to the ground with a bullet in his shoulder and the corpses of his friends piled on top of him, he played dead. Lying there, holding his breath, he waited for an ambulance to come and remove the bodies, Parra overheard the police officers talking among themselves about how pleased Arleguí would be that his orders had been fulfilled so efficiently.

Only when he was safely inside the morgue at the Hospital Clinico, and after the police had gone, did Parra feel safe enough to let the medical staff know that he was alive. The porter wheeling him into the mortuary cold store nearly fainted when Parra suddenly sat up and began talking to him.

The police, meanwhile, believing all the prisoners to be dead, issued a press statement to the effect that the escort had been ambushed by an anarchist gang while passing a vacant building site and the prisoners had tried to escape, which was when the guards opened fire on their charges, killing them in the process. The governor also issued a press statement to the effect that the deaths of the four anarchists had been ‘no great loss’ to society.

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When the news broke that one of the victims, Parra, was still alive and his account gave the lie to the police version of events, it caused the authorities serious embarrassment. Their first thought was to isolate Parra by posting police guards at his bedside, but by that time the story was public knowledge and it would have been too obvious to kill him in a hospital ward. Assisted by comrades disguised as ambulance men Parra escaped and was smuggled aboard a boat for Venezuela where he died in exile in 1970.

Further complications developed after one of Anido’s advisers warned him to avoid making any public statements on the matter, having visited the murder site and found no signs of an ambush.

Despite the censorship it would only be a matter of time before the Madrid press and liberal parliamentarians picked up on the story.

Although everyone knew what had happened, Arleguí brazenly carried on using the same methods. Next morning, another four cenetistas, José Peréz Esprín, Hernández Silvestre, Francisco Bravo and Benito Menacho, all members of the ‘International’ affinity group, were shot dead, also allegedly attempting to escape legal custody.

Amazingly, yet another eyewitness, Agustín Flor, survived this summary execution and made it back to his house. Before he died he swore an affidavit that he and his four comrades had been tortured by Arleguí in person. Among other acts of almost unbelievable cruelty, the police chief had crushed Menacho’s testicles between two bricks and carved lumps of flesh from each of the men’s bodies with his stiletto to get them to confess to Espejo’s murder. Throughout this bloody spectacle he was applauded and cheered on by his officers who were grouped around him, laughing and shouting triumphal abuse at the helpless victims. Flor’s statement with regard to the torture allegations was confirmed by the autopsy reports on his and the other bodies.

Espejo’s death seems to have tipped Arleguí over the edge.

Summoning all the pistolero and Libres leaders to his office the Commissioner ordered them to hunt down and kill as many known CNT militants as possible. They had his authority to kill with impunity.

Application of the ley de fugas was now a daily occurrence and in the weeks that followed at least sixty compañeros were cold-bloodedly murdered while allegedly ‘attempting to escape lawful custody’.

To be known as a militant meant almost certain death. On one day alone, 22 January, the bodies of thirty-six cenetistas were taken to the Hospital Clinico mortuary. As he was arranging the release of Espejo’s body from the Hospital Clinico for the funeral, Arleguí made a chilling promise to the dean of the Faculty of Medicine: ‘You’ll never again have cause to complain about your pupils 103

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lacking bodies on which to practice!’

Despite the State-sponsored butchery and all the repressive resources they threw against the CNT, Arleguí and Anido’s terror failed to produce the results they had hoped for. All they succeeded in doing was radicalising even more people and provoking the groups to greater resistance, leaving them with a fiercer desire to settle accounts with him and his class.

The simplest and the most elegant solution to unrelenting state massacre was the obvious one: target the guilty, particularly General Severiano Martínez Anido.

There was no shortage of volunteers for this task. Archs and Vandellós chose two trusted compañeros: Domenech Rivas and Ricart Pi. The plan was to maximise the public impact of Anido’s assassination by shooting him as he delivered the eulogy at Espejo’s funeral on 23 January.

Joining the rear of the funeral cortege at the Hospital Clinico, Domenech and Ricart edged their way slowly through the mourners towards the front of the procession as it proceeded down the Gran Via, until at last they could see Anido’s bulging fat neck and ox-like shoulders in front of them. They were very close. What they hadn’t noticed, unfortunately, was that they had been corralled by plainclothes Special Brigade officers who overcame the two comrades, knocking them to the ground as they drew their guns to fire.

There was no pretence of due process. Early next morning their tortured and bullet-ridden bodies were dumped on the pavement of the Diagonal.

Enough was enough. With the police, the Sometent and pistoleros out to destroy the CNT by systematically slaughtering our militants, we decided to target the man who bore ultimate responsibility for the state terror — Prime Minister Eduardo Dato.

In 1917 Dato had saved the monarchy by dividing the broadbased reformist coalition and crushing the labour movement. As the politician responsible for appointing Arleguí and Anido he had much to answer for; it was he who sanctioned Barcelona’s state terror and signed the shoot-to-kill legislation — the ley de fugas — and approved the infamous chain gang marches from Barcelona to Bilbao, on foot.

During this period of Archs’s and Vandellós’s moral leadership, the tactics and strategy of the CNT’s defence groups grew closer to those of the anarchist action cadres —affinity groups of determined activists who were no longer content to play a purely reactive role and merely 104

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respond to aggression. They were now taking the initiative, operating as urban guerrillas, and acting much more cohesively than previously.

They realised, mainly under Archs’ and Vandellós’s influence, that everyone doing their own thing achieved nothing; but neither did they want to create an underground army, as had happened in Ireland — that wasn’t their mentality, nor did it reflect their ideology.

In Barcelona three important and well-organised action groups operated at the time. They didn’t have leaders in the formal sense of the word, but as in every aspect of social life some members were more charismatic than others. One, based in the Santa Catalina neighbourhood, was formed around Lluís Dufur, alias ‘Larrosa’, a comrade widely respected for his integrity, bravery and decisiveness.

During a raid on the Woodworkers’ Union hall Dufur single-handedly held off the police, giving the others enough time to destroy incriminating documents and escape. The Santa Catalina group focused on bombing government buildings and the homes of the more notorious employers. It maintained a large cache of arms and explosives in a Montjuic cabin belonging to the mother of Josep Palau, a cenetista murdered a few months earlier.

The second important group was the one around Francisco Martínez Vals,who ran a bar in the Carrer de Valencia, from which the group took its name. Bars like his were, effectively, workers’ political clubs. Their owners considered themselves workers like their customers, not bourgeois. Vals owned an abandoned quarry, also on Montjuic, where the group stored explosives and practised their sharpshooting skills.

The third, and perhaps the most important of all, was the Carrer de Toledo group, a network of thirty or forty men and women, built up around two young anarchists, Vicens Sales and Roser Benavent.

There were a few elderly and middle-aged comrades among them, but mostly they were young people of the ‘idea’, none of whom had a police record, which gave them an advantage and considerable freedom of movement. They were also sensible, and discreet. The group’s strategy was to organise and carry out actions with regional, national and international resonance. Within the CNT committees only two people had contact with any of the groups —Archs and Vandellós.

With financial backing from Vandellós, who was then secretary of the Barcelona Local Federation of the CNT, Roser, a seamstress, set up a bespoke tailoring business, as a cover, in Sales’s apartment on the fourth floor at 10 Carrer de Toledo in Sans. It was a large flat occupied only by Sales and his father, an anarchist propagandist, who also ran a small workers’ library where they held meetings and discussion 105

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groups; it was also where the group met to organise their campaigns and actions — and construct their bombs.

The group met after work, and none of Roser Benavent’s seamstresses and needleworkers, las obreras de la aguja, had any inkling of what went on in the apartment after working hours.

Everyone, including Benavent’s family and neighbours, thought she was running a legitimate business venture so no one raised an eyebrow at the comings and goings of so many people at all hours of the day and night.

The groups had no formal structure. Members organised themselves in ways that made it difficult for them to be identified. One lot planned an action, another carried it out, while a third focused on bombings. They also organised escape and evasion routes for comrades on the run, and maintained arms dumps and safe houses at la Masia la Farinera in Sant Felíu de Llobregat, a few miles outside Barcelona, and at the Can Vidiella, a farmhouse in Falset, near Tarragona.

The three groups operated independently and were unaware of each other’s clandestine activities — although a few of them knew each other on a personal level from community activities and meetings in the bars and ateneos in the barri chino. Despite the neighbourhood’s bad reputation, it wasn’t just prostitutes and low-lifes who lived in the barri chino, honest and respectable workers lived there too. It was a fertile recruiting ground for both the anarchist idea and the union.

The Dato assassination plot brought together a number of individuals from different action groups. Because of the possible consequences for the organisation as a whole the decision to proceed with the action was initially approved in principle —but not in detail —by the CNT’s National Secretary and the Catalan Regional Committee — Ramón Archs, Joan Pey and Genaro Minguet. The CNT secretaries in Alto Llobregat, Reus and Tarragona were also informed of the plan.

The action itself was funded by Evaristo Fabregas, a sympathetic Reus millionaire, whom Josep Batlle talked into sponsoring the operation to the tune of 5,000 pesetas, although he wasn’t told any details.

Genaro Minguet, of the Catalan Regional Committee —Salvador Segui’s cousin — had been a cenetista since 1912. His apartment was always open to compañeros on the run and was the headquarters for countless strike committees. He considered himself to be a great judge of character, and possibly was. One of his party pieces was the ability to dsicern people’s characters by scrutinising their faces; occasionally 106

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he would look at someone and say: ‘Get that guy out of here, he’s a police informer.’

I felt, therefore, highly complimented that he had asked me, a young and inexperienced foreigner, to accompany the Fabric and Textile Union delegation to Madrid the previous autumn, specifically to report back to him on security at Dato’s office. The project had been simmering on the back burner awaiting the appropriate moment — which was now — but it wouldn’t be in the Palacio de Villamejor.

The important thing to remember about the Dato assassination was the context: under Anido due process of law — for whatever that concept was worth at the time — had ceased to exist in Barcelona.

There was no justice! The brutality that CNT members were subjected to was so barbaric that many ordinary unionists panicked and left the union, some joining the Libres. Even the most timid and mildmannered of cenetistas felt obliged to carry Stars to protect themselves.

On one occasion Libres gunmen arrived at the entrance to the CNT-organised Fundición Alexandre factory in the Carrer Ginebra de la Barceloneta, and opened fire, indiscriminately, on employees leaving work after the day shift. Four workers were killed on that occasion and dozens more wounded, including two children waiting for their fathers at the factory gates.

Incidents like this were happening all over the city; it was only later that we discovered. through Inocencio Feced’s confession, that Paulo Pallás, Anido’s protégé, the alleged son of the executed anarchist Paulíno Pallás, had been the prime mover in these murderous attacks.

A few months earlier, Pallás had been arrested for his part in a murder attempt against cenetistas in Tarragona —an apparently open and shut case —but he had been quickly released, without charges, on Anido’s order.

The Defence Committee responded by organising a series of targeted bombings and shootings. On 16 February, the ‘man in the grey mackintosh’ was reportedly involved in the killing of Antonio Pareta, a vindictive factory owner who had sacked all his CNT cardcarrying employees and replaced them with Libres members. Another successful — and popular — action was the execution of police confidente Ramón Esteve, a hated scab tram driver., The authorities hit back. On 3 March, Special Brigade officers acting on information, raided a second-floor flat at 136 Carrer de Marina where they arrested a man living there under the name of ‘Ángel Fernández’. His papers, forged by Laureano, were good so the authorities didn’t question his identity, but they knew he must have 107

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been someone important in the organisation. In his possession they found CNT subscription stamps and correspondence from Paris, Milan and other parts of Spain.

Short, trimly built, courteous and unassuming in character, ‘Fernández’ didn’t look particularly dangerous or interesting, so, unaware of the importance of his role in the organisation, they treated him as just another activist and sent him to prison pending trial on charges of illegal association and criminal syndicalism. ‘Ángel Fernández’ was in fact one of Anido and Arleguí’s most wanted men, CNT National Secretary Evelio Boal. The fact that they failed to identify Boal gave him an extra four months of life. His arrest, however, was bad news for the CNT. With the union’s most prominent anarcho-syndicalists in jail, the Leninists, pro-Bolshevik and Marxist-syndicalist factions in the organisation took advantage of the situation to occupy the key positions in the CNT’s national leadership. The person who benefited most from Boal’s arrest was his successor, Andrés Nin, a recent ‘convert’ to syndicalism — but still a Marxist and a member of the Socialist Party, something he didn’t admit to at the time. Nin was a clever and able man, an intellectual, but I never felt comfortable in his presence. I found him aloof, arrogant, condescending and manipulative.

The stream of arrests of leading militants made previous anonymity in the movement a positive attribute for anyone seeking appointment to a position of influence on the regional and national committees. Nin had manoeuvred himself into the right place at the right time and was soon appointed national secretary of the CNT, but in a directly democratic organisational structure such as the CNT it was a position that in reality carried no power. On the other hand, my mentor, Ramón Archs, was now secretary of the Regional Committee — as well as coordinator of the Defence Committee — while Pedro Vandellós was secretary of the Local Federation of the CNT in Barcelona.

Although the Defence Committee had been discussing Eduardo Dato’s assassination since the previous autumn, nothing concrete had come of any of the many complicated plots put forward.

It was three young members of the ‘Metalúrgico’ action group — Pedro Mateu Cusidó, a twenty-three-year-old from Valls in Tarragona province; nineteen-year-old Lluis Nicolau; and 22-year-old Ramón Casanellas — who finally put the action into play. Young, affable and idealistic comrades, metalworkers with no police 108

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antecedents, these comrades were veterans of some highly successful actions. Enthusiastic bikers, they spent most of their free time touring the countryside or working on their motorcycles. The cover story they told everyone, including friends, was that they were going to Madrid to find work and to ‘build a new life in the capital’.

Ramón Casanellas was first to leave, at the beginning of January, to prepare the groundwork. Pedro Mateu and Lluis Nicolau followed soon after on their motorbike and sidecar. After a few misadventures on the road, the two friends eventually arrived in Madrid on 25 February where they were later joined by Nicolau’s partner, María Luisa Concepción — Luca, a perhaps even more committed activist.

She preferred to travel by train.

It’s an unfortunate fact, but Madrileños, who generally consider themselves a sophisticated bunch tend to look down their noses on Barcelonans, in much the same way that Edinburghers patronise Glaswegians, but the three Catalan lads were popular at the pensión where they rented rooms and, according to fellow guests, they were good company and had a smile for everyone.

What no one knew, obviously, was that their day —and evening —jobs involved keeping the president of Spain’s Council of Ministers under constant surveillance, observing his daily routine, and monitoring his routes between parliament, the presidencia and home.

They soon realised, however, that they needed someone else on the ground to signal Dato’s approach. They also wanted one of the new Thompson submachine guns we had recently received from comrades in the United States, and had contacted Archs who asked me if I would deliver the submachine gun and provide whatever help I could —then to return immediately to Barcelona.

I arrived in Madrid on Friday 2 March, lodging at the home of the baker and well-known libertarian writer and freemason Mauro Bajatierra, a discreet man who asked no questions as to the purpose of my visit.

Over the next few days we rehearsed the plan thoroughly. My job was to signal the approach of Dato’s car, with its distinctive number plate, ARM 21, as it drove down the Calle de Alcalá towards the Plaça de Cibeles, bringing the prime minister home from the Cortes, the Spanish parliament.

Eduardo Dato e Iradier’s date with destiny came on the evening of 8 March 1921, following a debate in the Senate with the Marqués de Santa Cruz and General Luque. Sergeant Ros, the prime minister’s official driver, collected the prime minister and his private secretary, Juan José Fernández, outside the Cortes at around 8:45 p.m. to drive 109

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them home. It had been a long day’s sitting.

I was standing outside the gates of the Ministry of War at the bottom of the Calle de Alcalá, where it meets the Plaza de Cibeles.

When I saw the car approaching from the Cortes I waved to Luca on the far side of the Plaza, who in turn signalled to Casanellas, who was parked nearby with the bike’s engine running.

As the prime minister’s car crossed Cibeles, the grey-coloured Indiana motorcycle with sidecar slipped into position behind the vehicle, and followed it as far as the Plaça de la Independencia, close to Dato’s home on the corner of the Calle de Lagasca and the continuation of the Calle de Alcalá.

Suddenly, the motorcycle accelerated and began to overtake Dato’s limousine. As it passed the prime minister’s car, the two men in the sidecar — Pedro Mateu Cusidó and Lluis Nicolau Fort — stood up shouting ‘Viva el anarquismo!’ and fired at least thirty shots into the limousine. Dato’s blood-soaked body, hit by three bullets, slumped across the back seat. The first hit him in the head and probably killed him instantly. A second bullet entered through the mastoid area on the left side of his face and exited through his cheekbone, while a third smashed through his seventh rib. Dato’s secretary, Juan José Fernández, sitting next to the driver, suffered slight head wounds.

Then it was all over. The motorcycle and sidecar, driven by champion racing motorcyclist Ramón Casanellas Lluch, turned into the Calle Serrano and roared off into the night. The only identifying feature was the motorbike’s unusual red headlight. Meanwhile, Sergeant Ros, Dato’s driver, drove at high speed to a nearby infirmary in the Calle Olózaga, but by the time he arrived the prime minister was dead — and I was at Atocha station boarding the train for Zaragoza and Barcelona.

The police and Guardia Civil were unusually efficient in their hunt for the assassins. Although they organised roadblocks and checkpoints around the capital within hours, their first break didn’t come until 11 March when a ‘concerned citizen’ living in the Calle Arturo Soria in Ciudad Lineal contacted the Guardia Civil with the information that a motorbike similar to the one described in the newspapers was in a neighbour’s garage, at No. 77.

Everything then began to unravel. Number 77 Calle Arturo Soria belonged to Fernández Oviedo, an elderly butcher, whose history was well-known to Madrid’s Special Brigade. Fifteen years earlier, in May 1906, the young anarchist Mateo Morral, Francisco Ferrer’s librarian, had lodged there prior to his attempted assassination of King Alfonso 110

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XIII and his English wife, Victoria Eugenia of Battenberg, on their wedding day. It was an unfortunate coincidence.

In the garage, the police found the grey ‘Indian’ motorcycle and sidecar. With it were false number plates and five automatics — Stars — with ammunition clips, but not the tommy gun. Their enquiries established that the garage had been rented to a Francisco Mateos who was living under the name José Pallardo in the basement of the widow Valeriana López’s pensión at No. 164 Calle de Alcalá, close to Dato’s home. The police raided the pensión early the next morning, Sunday 12 March, but none of the comrades were in at the time so they set up a surveillance operation.

Twenty-four hours later, as they were on the point of abandoning the operation, an unsuspecting Pedro Mateu arrived to collect some documents and the coat he’d left behind — and was arrested.

‘If you’d given me some warning, we’d have turned this into a Western,’ joked Mateu to the cops who arrested him — meaning he would have shot his way out if he hadn’t been taken by surprise.

In his statement to the police, Mateu said he did not kill ‘Dato, the man’: ‘No, the person I killed was the Minister who authorised the ley de fugas.’

Mateu’s friends, Ramón Casanellas and Lluis Nicolau, were identified from documents in the pensión, but they successfully eluded the police trap and escaped the Madrid dragnet by passing themselves off as travelling salesmen from Valencia.

Casanellas, who had friends in the recently formed Spanish Communist Party, made it to France and from there to Moscow, where he later became a Bolshevik.

Nicolau and Maria Luisa Concepción moved to a safe house on the outskirts of Barcelona until Ramón Archs and Luisa Padros could arrange for them to be smuggled into France. From there they moved through the underground railway to Berlin, where they were eventually arrested and extradited back to Spain on 13 February, 1922.

Pedro’s wife was held in the women’s prison in the Calle Quiñones, but was released when it couldn’t be proved that she had any involvement in the Dato assassination.

Subsequent police raids led to the arrest of other compañeros, some of whom were charged as accessories, including my host, Mauro Bajatierra, and another lodger, Ignacio Delgado, who were accused of supplying the weapons; José Miranda, the florist, for sheltering the accused; Adolfo Díaz, for providing Casanellas and Nicolau with the false passports used in their escape — which in fact they’d received 111

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from Laureano — and Tomás La Llave for hiding the motorcycle.

At their trial, Matheu and Nicolau’s mitigation plea was, again, that they had not targeted Dato ‘the man’, but ‘the architect of the ley de fugas’. Both were convicted and sentenced to death, but the sentences were never carried out and they were pardoned when the new Republic was declared in April 1931.

Within the movement, Dato’s assassination provoked serious debates as to the rights and wrongs of such actions. Many compañeros were opposed to ‘propaganda by the deed’ — some because they wanted a quiet life and denounced political assassination as ‘sheer folly’, ‘provoking repression’ and ‘corroding’ existing scanty liberties.

Their defeatist argument was that no matter what anyone did, the world would continue without a tremor on its immutable way. But, there were also many principled pacifist anarchists who were genuinely horrified by what we had done.

But I was with Archs on this one, 100 per cent. Dato had it coming. In my view it was a legitimate act of vindication and retribution at a time when our protest had no other appropriate or effective means of expression.

Dato may not have issued the orders to murder specific union activists, but he was certainly the facilitator and was fully complicit, inasmuch as it was he who appointed and defended General Anido, in the full knowledge of the man’s bloody reputation —and the likely consequences of his appointment.

Discussing it later with Maestro Barba, whose wisdom and advice I respected enormously, he explained to me the background of the 1897 assassination of Prime Minister Antonio Cánovas del Castillo —‘the Monster’ —by the Italian anarchist Michele Angiolillo Lombardi at the resort of Santa Agueda.

Maestro Barba had known Angiolillo as a young man whom he described as ‘calm, intelligent, reserved, kind —and as gentle as a girl’.’

The reason he shot Cánovas del Castillo was because he bore ultimate responsibility for the Inquisitorial tortures inflicted on 400 anarchists, socialists and republicans after a bomb had been thrown into the Corpus Christi procession in Madrid the previous year. Many of the prisoners died under torture. Eighty-seven of them were eventually brought to trial of whom eight were sentenced to death and nine received long prison sentences; the other seventy were acquitted. In spite of their acquittal, Cánovas del Castillo ordered their deportation to Spain’s West African penal colony, Río de Oro. After shooting Cánovas del Castillo —who had been out walking with his wife at the Santa Águeda spa, in Mondragón, Guipúzcoa — 112

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Michele Angiolillo dropped his gun, tipped his hat and bowed to the newly-widowed woman saying ‘Madam, I am truly sorry for the grief I have just caused you, but your husband was truly a monster unworthy of any pity.’ He then surrendered himself to the police.

Throughout his time as head of state and prime minister, Antonio Cánovas del Castillo had laid down the template for repression in Spain. Dato was his true successor.

I had certainly come a long way, politically and morally, since arriving in Spain three years earlier.

Madrid’s short-sighted autocrats learned nothing from Dato’s death, just as they learned nothing from the death of Cánovas del Castillo. If we achieved nothing else, at least we had had the satisfaction of our day of reckoning.

The new prime minister, Manuel Allendesalazar Muñoz de Salazar, carried on regardless —possibly proving the ‘pessimist’s point that the same cause produces the same effect — pursuing the same arrogant and cruel policies as his predecessor, allowing Anido, Arleguí and the Employers’ Federation a free hand in Catalonia where matters were going from bad to worse with a spiralling rise in the number of pistolero and ley de fuga killings.

Eduardo Dato’s mortal remains were laid to rest in the Pantheon of Illustrious Men in the basilica of the Atocha. They joined those of three other ‘untimely dispatched’ Spanish premiers: General Juan Prim y Prats, shot dead on 27 December 1870 while driving in his coach in the Calle del Turco in Madrid; Antonio Cánovas del Castillo, killed on 8 August, 1897; and José Canalejos y Mendez, assassinated in the Puerta del Sol in Madrid on 12 November 1912 by the Aragónese anarchist Manuel Pardiña Serrato.

Dato’s death changed little in Spain’s political panorama. We had eliminated the man, but not the mentality he represented. Still, it showed the oligarchs that they weren’t going to have it all their own way. The constitution remained suspended and the press remained muzzled both by the Law of Jurisdictions and by press censorship.

Parliament, the Cortes, was a joke, an ineffective repository of fear and obstructionism; it was hardly surprising then that Spain’s politicians found it impossible to generate respect or any sense of civic obedience among the working classes. In most people’s eyes they were irredeemable charlatans.

The cycle of tit-for-tat murders and attempted murders continued throughout that spring. Even so, Dato’s death directly benefited some people. One was Juan García Oliver, a member of the CNT’s Café 113

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Waiter’s and Cook’s Union and, latterly, a member of the Nosotros group — a continuation of the Los Justicieros group. Oliver was in prison when the news broke of Dato’s assassination: ‘That morning’, he said, ‘I had been told to pack my belongings as around 200 of us were due to be sent on conducción ordinario that afternoon to La Coruña in Galicia — a forced march in chains and on foot.

‘I’d been lying on my bed with my belongings tied up in a sheet, something absolutely forbidden in normal circumstances, but they could hardly punish me now we were about to leave. As I lay there, listening idly to the noises of bolted cell doors opening and banging shut, and the drone of men’s voices echoing around the gallery, talking and shouting their goodbyes as they prepared for the march north, around four in the afternoon it must have been, I heard someone shout — “Dato’s dead! They’ve killed Dato! They got the bastard at last!”

‘I leapt from my bed, jubilant — euphoric, as though I’d been propelled by a giant spring,’ he recalled. ‘The compañeros had finally got their main man.

That meant no more conducciónes ordinarios — for a while. The good-bad balance had been restored — for a time anyway.’

Earlier that year, in February, a number of the anarchist groups — Via Libre, El Comunista, Los Justicieros, Voluntad and Impulso — met to discuss setting up a peninsula-wide anarchist federation. The first step had been to send out small delegations around the country to gauge support for the idea. Durruti and his then girlfriend Juliana López Maimar were asked to tour Andalucia. It was the first time Durruti had been on such a trip, but the pair did very well, and in Andalucia, they convinced the local militants to set up a Committee of Anarchist Relations to coordinate regional activities.

The timing, however, was unfortunate. Returning from the south, Durruti and Juliana arrived in Madrid the day after Dato’s assassination. With so much police activity it was too risky to contact the local compañeros so they decided to leave town immediately, but were arrested at a police checkpoint at the Atocha station as they boarded the train for Zaragoza.

Fortunately, they weren’t detained for long. Durruti, ever the charmer, convinced the police inspector questioning him that he was the scion of a respectable family on an assignation with a respectable woman friend, Juliana. It would, said Durruti, be highly embarrassing and damaging if their relationship were to become public knowledge.

The consequences for the good names of both their families would be inconceivable. These were the sort of values the police inspector, obviously an old-fashioned type of guy, respected and sympathised 114

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with, so, won over by Durruti’s natural charisma, he let the couple go without further investigation.

Madrid was no longer a safe place for anarchists — not that it ever had been, particularly — so the pair didn’t hang around and caught the first train for Zaragoza where they reported back to the Defence Committee on events in Madrid and the situation in the south.

The meeting, chaired by Domingo Ascaso, took place in an apartment in the working-class district of Pueblo Nuevo. Ascaso brought everyone up to date on the latest news of the repression, and the fact that the entire National Committee of the CNT had been arrested, including general secretary Evelio Boal.

Boal had been arrested before he could circulate Pestaña’s report among the union committees. His successor, the pro-Bolshevik Andrés Nin and his Marxist-syndicalist colleagues who now dominated the CNT National Committee, chose to sit on the report, refusing to publish it or permit any debate on Pestaña’s recommendation that the CNT withdraw its provisional affiliation to the Third International, the Comintern — which it had supported with varying degrees of enthusiasm since 1919 — and that the union should now align itself with the recently proposed Berlin-based anarchist International Working Men’s Association, the AIT. Allendesalazar, the new prime minister, knew that to ensure some degree of social peace he needed to break the cycle of violence initiated and fomented by the Catalan upper-middle classes and their Roman Catholic integrist allies in the army and police. Aristocratic Madrid society was scandalised that an out-of-control regional administration could so overtly defy central government and act so blatantly, and with impunity, outside the law. Nor did it impress those international business and diplomatic communities with commercial interests in Spain whose investments were threatened by the endless industrial unrest and the possibility of expropriation, damage to property and social revolution that was flaring up across the peninsula.

Socialist MP Julián Besteiro raised the question of the ley de fugas in parliament, demanding that the Minister of the Interior, el Conde Gabino Bugallal y Araujo, publicly condemn Martínez Anido’s methods — methods that Anido didn’t deny.

Whatever Bugallall may have thought privately, he refused to be drawn into the debate, and confined himself to parroting the police story that all the victims of the ley de fugas had been shot legitimately in the act of escaping, even though two deputies, Guerra del Rio and 115

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Lluis Companys, now the leading civil rights lawyers after Francesc Layret’s assassination, proved this to be a lie.

Neither the prime minister nor the interior minister had the slightest intention of dismissing the general, whose relentless persecution of the anarcho-syndicalist labour movement coincided with the heightened reactionary mood of the country’s elite, as evinced by the Conservative victory in the December elections.

Bugallal and Francesc Cambó both privately supported Martínez Anido and Arleguí, but public pressure obliged them to make a few minor cosmetic modifications to the ley de fugas and try to bring Martínez Anido under tighter control. The situation in the province was so bad that prisoners were refusing to be released in the early hours of the morning or late at night knowing it meant almost certain death.

To ensure nothing untoward happened to their partners, prisoners’ wives and their girl friends had taken to camping outside the Modelo and police headquarters. It was a truly scandalous state of affairs.

Bugallal, the Minister of the Interior, visited Barcelona in an attempt to end the employer-led terrorism in Catalonia —but he hit a brick wall. Madrid’s writ meant little in the Catalan capital, which jealously guarded its status as a self-governing merchant city-state.

Barcelona’s ultra-reactionary and arrogant oligarchs had become obsessed with rolling back what they saw as the ever-encroaching and insidious anti-Christian values unleashed by the Reformation and the French Revolution, and were not prepared to brook any interference from outsiders, especially Madrileños.

General Martínez Anido flatly defied Bugallal’s order to end the parapolitical killings.

‘Dato’s death changes nothing,’ said Martínez Anido to the interior minister on the 12th. ‘You have to understand, señor, that the core ethos of my command here is that I rarely speak to Madrid and Madrid rarely speaks to me.

‘What happens in Catalonia is entirely my responsibility. The government has never given me instructions, as it has done with former governors. I didn’t ask for this position, it was thrust upon me, and when I accepted it I did so on the clear understanding that I was to be given a completely free hand in the province.

‘Unfortunately, sir, things being as they are, there is no going back. It is impossible to change the pace; we cannot stop what has already begun. I must add, however, that Madrid is as deeply compromised as I am, so support me or sack me — each of us must 116

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face our responsibilities and carry the consequences of our actions.’

Despite Bugallal’s entreaties, it was clear that Barcelona’s civil governor would not be influenced or restrained by central government. The union branches and ateneos stayed closed and the Organisation’s most prominent militants remained in jail: Segui, Boal, Peiró and hundreds of other less-well-known activists. Police raids continued and every day the press reported prisoners being shot while attempting to escape ‘lawful custody’. Prisons were so full they could no longer contain all the prisoners, so Anido ordered their dispersal to other prisons in distant parts of the country — on foot and in chains.

The assasination of General Arleguí became the top priority of the Carrer de Toledo group. The attempt was to take place on his daily visit to report to Martínez Anido, a journey he made, on foot, from his office in the Via Layetana. For three days Josepa Castro and María Fernández, two women comrades, followed him to establish his routine. Unfortunately, however, they attracted police attention and were arrested. Luckily, they were able to convince the police of their innocence and were released, but that particular action had to be suspended.

They had better luck with their next target, Salvador Anglada, an important sponsor of the Sindicatos Libres, a prominent Carlist, a Sometent leader, and a key adviser to Martínez Anido. Anglada dined each evening at the Lyon d’Oro in the Plaza del Teatro near the bottom of the Ramblas. The Lyon d’Oro was where Barcelona’s elegant high society went to see and be seen before and after an evening at the Liceo Opera house. The restaurant, a regular pistolero and Sometent meeting place, belonged to an extreme right-wing hotelier by the name of Antoni Albareda, who also owned the infamous Hotel Continental where comrades from the CNT’s Waiters’ Union had had major problems over the years. Now he was insisting that all his employees join the Libres.

Anglada left the restaurant late in the evening of 17 March. He was accompanied by his bodyguard, Josep Rafa, the barman at the Carlist social centre in Sants. Outside, in the shadows, waiting for him,were two compañeros from the Carrer de Toledo group, Ferrán Sánchez Rosas, alias ‘Negre de Gracia’, and Joan Baptista Acher, alias ‘El Poeta’, who followed the two men at a distance as far as the Plaça de España, when another member of the Carrer de Toledo group, Magi Marimon, approached from the opposite direction. His job was to confirm Anglada’s identity to the others, to ensure they had the 117

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right man, which he did, tipping the nod to the two men as he passed.

Two shots rang out and Anglada dropped to the ground. Assuming he was dead the men ran off into the back streets towards Montjuic without bothering to check and deliver the coup de graçe. Anglada, however, was only wounded and later made a full recovery.

Another disaster that befell the organisation around this time was the arrest of Progreso Ródenas. Given his notoriety and history, everyone was convinced his tortured and murdered body would be found dumped in the street the following morning, another victim of the ley de fugas. That would certainly have been the case had it not been for an extraordinary intervention by his sister.

Libertad Ródenas was a truly remarkable woman, a brave and outspoken union militant. The day after her brother’s arrest she attended a meeting of the Bank and Stock Exchange Professional Association as a CNT delegate, the Association’s members then being courted both by the CNT and by the Libres. When the Libres delegate spoke, Libertad stood up and accused him of belonging to a band of murderers in the bosses’ pay, which led to an uproar in the hall with guns being waved around. No shots were fired, fortunately, but even so, Libertad had to be escorted from the hall protected by other cenetistas.

Early next morning her flat was raided and she was arrested and taken directly to the office of General Arleguí, who wanted to meet her.

Standing before Arlegui, a man with absolute power of life and death over her, Libertad, showing not the slightest glimmer of fear or deference, told him to his face what she thought of him. She also said that she knew he probably intended to murder both her and her brother, whom he still had in custody.

Either she impressed Arleguí by her spirit or he was playing some unfathomable psychological game, but he did actually promise her that both she and her brother were safe and that nothing untoward would happen to them. This proved true, and both Progresso and Libertad survived while many other less well-known activists were tortured and killed and their corpses dumped in the gutters.

Throughout March, April and May, the situation deteriorated. The view of the handful of ‘influential’ CNT militants who remained at liberty was that despite the sacrifices of the activists, the situation could not be sustained for much longer. A solution had to be found, and that was to be a national insurrection. The problem was — although none of us realised it at the time — that the CNT’s National 118

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Committee was in the hands of Marxists —who had their own agenda.

A decision of such importance, however, required the approval of a National Plenum of delegates from each Regional Committee. The Marxist cabal, led by the CNT’s new National Secretary, Andrés Nín, convened the plenum in Lérida, 180 kilometres or so from Barcelona, a town where Martinez Anido’s writ didn’t run and where the CNT was tolerated. At the last moment, however, they changed the venue and the meeting — attended by seventeen delegates from all over Spain — was held in the apartment of a comrade in Pueblo Seco, at the foot of Montjuic.

Despite growing doubts as to the nature and direction of the Russian Revolution, the fact was it still enjoyed widespread enthusiasm and support. Even in 1921 many anarchists, syndicalists and socialists still saw Soviet Russia in terms of a classless society run by democratic workers’ and peasants’ councils or soviets, rather than a regime under the tight control of a highly centralised and disciplined agency such as the Bolsheviks.

To many outsiders, the ideological divide between Marxism and anarchism was still unclear. In the early part of 1921 both groups appeared to share a common set of ideas, especially as regards the importance of direct action, anti-parliamentary agitation, the class struggle and workers’ councils controlling the means of production and distribution — and the creation of a federated workers’ republic.

It wasn’t until later in 1921 that Lenin instructed the international communist parties to participate in parliamentary elections.

Our attitude towards people such as Andrés Nin and the other Marxists who inveigled themselves onto the National Committee was simply that they were less critical of the Bolsheviks than we were — but we were wrong. When Archs put the question to him directly, Nin denied point blank being a Marxist, but still he refused to publish Pestaña’s hostile report on the Bolshevik regime. The time wasn’t ripe he argued, and so the CNT remained affiliated to the Third International. Some people still hoped that the Soviet Union could provide us with the arms and ammunition it needed to organise the proposed insurrection. Personally, my belief is that Nin was more concerned that the report’s publication would compromise his own relationship with the Bolsheviks.

Be that as it may, the new Marxist-oriented National Committee of the CNT voted ten votes to seven to send a second delegation to the founding Congress of the Profintern(1) — the pro-Soviet Red International of Labour Unions — that was due to meet in Moscow 119

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in July 1921. The CNT delegation — surprise, surprise — consisted of Andrés Nin; Joaquin Maurín, now part of the restructured Catalan Regional Committee; Hilario Arlandis, representing Valencia; and Jesús Ibañez, representing Asturias. Every of them was proBolshevik. At the last moment Eleuterio Quintanilla was replaced

by Gaston Leval, a young French anarchist exile who attended as a representative of the Barcelona Libertarian Federation.

The delegates’ mandate was to ‘support the principle’ of a ‘dictatorship of the proletariat’ —but a dictatorship exercised by the unions, not by a party; to defend the CNT’s autonomy; and to agree to an exchange of delegates between the Comintern and the Red Trade Union International. The delegation’s main role, however, as far as the Defence Committee was concerned, was to obtain arms and financial support from the Third International — of which the CNT was still, at that time, an affiliate member —in order to facilitate the armed uprising we had planned.

The delegation left almost immediately. Perhaps I am being over-cynical, but I suspect Nin saw it as an opportunity to get out of the country at a time when his life was in particular danger. Libres pistoleros had already tried to kill him at the Bar Ciclista, and Dato’s recent assassination by cenetistas meant that he, as national secretary, was now a target. The delegates left Spain with false documents provided by Laureano, very little money, and entirely dependent on the goodwill and support of anarchist comrades across Europe, who fed, housed, financed and smuggled them across all the frontiers as far as Russia.

In Moscow one of their first appointments was with Leon Trotsky, the People’s Commissar for War, who had lived for a time in Madrid and Barcelona. When they asked him for money and arms his first question was had they the support of the army, and when they said they didn’t —certainly not the officer class —that was the end of the conversation. Trotsky had them politely thrown out.

As far as the CNT was concerned, sending the delegation to Moscow had been a complete waste of time and resources, especially as Spain was already ‘represented’ at the congress by the newly formed Spanish Communist Party, the PCE. And although the delegation had sworn to uphold the revolutionary syndicalist movement’s autonomy at the Profintern congress, the pro-Bolshevik syndicalists — except Leval! — promptly signed the statutes, one of which declared that: ‘. . . The closest possible ties should be established with the Third Communist

120

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It was the last ideological straw, the final parting of the ways between Marxists and anarchists in Spain. What was meant by this gobbledygook was that by joining the Profintern the unions’ interests would be subordinated to the international machinations of the Comintern, Soviet foreign policy requirements and to the political agenda of the Spanish Communist Party in the domestic arena.

Having previously rejected proposals to unite with the UGT — because of its political dependence on the PSOE, the Spanish Socialist Party — it was never likely that the CNT would agree to an even more subservient relationship with the Communist Party which, incidentally, consisted mainly of former members of the Socialist Party. Fryingpan and fire were words that sprang to mind.

Spanish comrades living in the Russian capital sent us regular critical reports about the CNT delegation’s sycophantic carryingson with the Bolshevik leadership in Moscow. Having lived in Russia for some time, they were well-informed about Bolshevik machinations. The letters and articles these comrades sent back for publication in Nueva Senda and other anarchist journals argued that by signing the Profintern statutes the four delegates had betrayed the fundamental principles of the CNT and that each last one of them should be expelled forthwith from the union, and the agreements they had signed annulled.

One Spaniard who had lived in Moscow for six months, Jaime Salan — better known as ‘Wilkens’ — a member of the Paris-based Intersyndicale Ouvrière de Langue Espagnole en France, an organisation of confederal militants living in France and initially a supporter of the Revolution — says he interviewed Lenin, who admitted to cynical manipulation: ‘We created the syndicalist International out of opportunism, because we know that there are many convinced revolutionary workers in the unions who are ready for action, but who, because of their anarchist hangover mentality refuse to join the Communist Party. However, once they are in the Communist International, it will be easier for us to get them to accept our tactics, methods and leadership.’

The anarchist newspapers of Madrid and Alcoy, Nueva Senda and Redención, spelled out the contradictions of the CNT’s membership of the Profintern: 121

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 If the CNT’s objective is to destroy the state then it cannot collaborate with the state, nor can it work with the state, even under the pretext of reforming it.... or defending the workers… From the moment the CNT joined the Profintern, which is controlled by a socialist party and, therefore, supports the state — it renounced its ideology, principles and, as a consequence, its tactics.

On their way back to Spain, Nin, Leval and Arlandis stopped off in Berlin to visit Lluis Nicolau and his partner, Luca, members of the group that killed Dato, who were staying with Theodore Pliever, later the author of Stalingrad, who was, at the time, an anarchist. Nin was present when the German police raided the flat on an international arrest warrant for their part in the Dato assassination. It’s possible that the police had been following Nin — or worse. Lluis and Luca did, after all, have million peseta reward tags on their heads from the Madrid government! But it may also have been because Nicolau, an outward-going sort of guy, talked too much to the wrong people, either in Paris or Berlin. I doubt we’ll ever know. Anyway, after much diplomatic toing and froing, the German authorities agreed to the extradition of the two anarchists only on the understanding that the Spanish prosecutor would not ask for the death penalty, either for them or for Pedro Mateu who was already in custody in Madrid.

Nin, although charged with ‘moral complicity’ in the Dato assassination, escaped extradition with the help of his German Communist Party connections, who arranged for Moscow to issue him with Russian citizenship papers. He returned to Russia where he became the Profintern’s international secretary — and made the ultimately fatal choice of backing Trotsky against Stalin in the battle to succeed Lenin after the latter’s death.

Ibañez and Maurín returned to Spain in the late summer of 1921, where the former was immediately arrested, leaving Maurín alone to defend the case for the CNT to retain its affiliation with the Profintern as a means of ensuring class unity. In spite of a hostile campaign from a number of CNT regions for signing the Moscow protocols, Maurín took over Nin’s old job as acting CNT national secretary, a post he held until February 1922.

Durruti and his closest friend, Domingo Ascaso, like the rest of us, spent a lot of time going over the Dato assassination —considering its consequences and wondering how to resist, effectively, the escalating state terror. An example of what was possible was a spectacularly successful coordinated attack by members of eight anarchist groups on one of the main pistolero meeting places in Barcelona.

‘I hear Zaragoza is next in line to be targeted by the gunmen,’ said Ascaso. ‘They have been told to keep a low profile or leave town 122

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until the present scandals subside. so many are moving to Zaragoza where they have the protection of Cardinal Archbishop Soldevilla. It seems they have “contracts” there as well. We really need to close ranks, call a halt to these farcical negotiations with the bosses, and commit ourselves to effective actions, such as that against Dato.’

Ascaso explained the pistoleros’ usual modus operandi — how they functioned as unofficially condoned death squads operating with impunity, protected by Arleguí’s blue ID cards; how they congregated in groups outside the factories and workshops under the eyes of the police, intimidating union activists, following and gunning down those they had been commissioned to kill.

Their victims were usually identified by confidentes —sadly, some of whom were renegade cenetistas who, whether for money, fear, selfinterest or survival, had succumbed to treachery and were prepared to betray and murder their former friends and comrades.

Durruti spent a week in Zaragoza before moving on to Barcelona where the ‘Via Libre’ affinity group had organised a national conference of anarchist groups at which Durruti’s group, Los Justicieros, committed itself to fundraising and collecting arms for the action groups.

Durruti and long-time friend Gregorio Suberviela had good connections in the Basque country, where money and weapons were more readily obtainable. In Bilbao, however, they found the union treasuries were empty. Everything had been spent supporting the prisoners and their families, and the only weapons available were a few rusty old shotguns and rifles. Since the arrival of Regueral, the new regional governor, the CNT in Bilbao had been a proscribed — and bankrupt — organisation.

Zabarain, a local comrade, was pessimistic as to how much support the action groups could expect to receive: ‘We have been underground ever since Regueral arrived. We are broke; everything we had has gone to support prisoners’ families.

There’s nothing left.’

To Gregorio, these obstacles were as a proverbial red rag to a bull: ‘the greater the dangers, the greater the remedies. If the state chooses to rob the workers’ organisations, well, let’s do the same to them. We’ll rob their banks!’

Torres Escartín and the others were taken aback at Gregorio’s proposal.

‘Don’t be silly, we’ve no experience in such things,’ said Torres.

Durruti nodded.

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‘Well, we’re used to shooting it out with the police and the pistoleros, and using dynamite — so why not rob a bank?’ said Gregorio.

Put like that, and once the others, including Durruti, overcame their initial doubts about the ethics and morality of robbery, it began to seem like a good idea. Why not indeed?

Someone suggested the Banco de Bilbao, but their lack of expertise prompted them instead to opt for an easier option, a wages snatch — which would also be less dangerous. Zabarain suggested robbing the Eibar foundry. Having worked there he had good inside information on the company’s wages routine.

It was all too easy. Stealing a fast six-cylinder Hispano-Suiza capable of sixty miles an hour on a flat road, the comrades followed the accountant’s car after he’d collected the week’s wages from the Banco de Bilbao, overtook him on the Eibar road, then staged a breakdown further up the highway. When the accountant stopped to help they seized him and tied him up with his driver, took the wages, and left the pair, unharmed, in the back of the car by the side of the road.

Abandoning their vehicle in Bilbao, the group hid for a few days in a safe house in the working-class barri of Las Siete Calles. The local press had a field day, and spoke of little else for the rest of the week, with banner headlines on how the audacious ‘Catalan’ bandits had escaped with 300,000 pesetas. Nothing like it had ever happened before in Bilbao.

With the money from the wage snatch, Zabarain bought a hundred Star pistols — sindicalistas! — and the balance was divided fifty-fifty, with one lot for the Bilbao prisoners’ fund, the other for the Zaragoza prisoners’ fund, which was taken by Juliana López Maimar.

None of Los Justicieros took any of the money for themselves. A few days later the group returned to Zaragoza, via Logroño, in the back of a greengrocer’s lorry.

The repression continued, unabated. By the end of the first week of April Libres gunmen had shot and killed at least half-a-dozen compañeros. The Defence Committee retaliated by killing Salvador Aguilar, head of the Libre glassworkers’ union, while Arleguí and Anido launched a vicious press campaign targeting cenetista defence lawyers in the hope of intimidating them into refusing to take on CNT cases. In reality what they were doing was softening them up for murder.

The campaign began with anonymous letters, which forced some 124

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lawyers, such as Puig d’Asprer and José Ulled, to move their families out of town. They themselves, however, continued working in Barcelona and taking on union cases.

When their threats failed to intimidate the lawyers, the brains behind the operation, Pedro Martir Homs, secret service agent and duplicitous lawyer, ratcheted up his campaign by killing them off one by one. He was the Sweeney Todd of the Catalan legal profession.

José Lastra was the first lawyer to die. By no stretch of the imagination could Lastra have been described as a radical. If anything he was on the political right, but he was also a man of strong principle and integrity who believed in justice and the ‘rule of law’.

Lastre’s killer, an unidentified but elegantly-dressed man with a diamond tiepin, arrived unannounced at his office on the morning of 14 April asking to see the lawyer concerning a private legal matter.

Saluting the lawyer on entering the office, he told him that he wished to congratulate him on his recent magnificent defence of a worker accused of killing an employer. Then he added, ‘But it will be your last.’

With that he produced a revolver from his jacket pocket and emptied the chamber into the lawyer as he sat at his desk, in front of his wife.

José Ulled was also shot and wounded that same night outside his apartment in the Paseo de Gracia along with his secretary, Francisco Estrada.

The murders continued through April and into May, and not just in Barcelona. Homs’s men also targeted Madrid-based defence lawyers Fontana, Saragoyen and Guerra del Rio, and Eduardo Barriobero who was ambushed by pistoleros outside his office but managed to escape to Barcelona. Barriobero was the only lawyer who actually was a member of the CNT. On 23 April, the Carrer de Toledo group retaliated by targeting Emili Vidal-Ribas, the most prominent and vicious Sometent leader of Barcelona’s VI District. The plan was to shoot him at his shop in the Carrer Mercaders, in the Old Town, but it went ‘agley’ when his brother, Joan Vidal-Ribas, turned up instead of Emili. When the family car, driven by chauffeur Joan Rius, arrived at mid-day, Joan Vidal-Ribas emerged and chatted briefly to the driver who was cranking the car’s starting handle. As he opened the car door a burst of gunfire left Joan Vidal-Ribas mortally wounded. Rius, the chauffeur, was only slightly injured. This event happened the day before Joan Vidal-Ribas was due to formally hand over a new flag to the Sometent — one bearing an image of Christ the King that had been sewn by a sisterhood of the Catholic women of Madrid. The ceremony was due to be presided over by King Alfonso XIII, with Generals Anido and Arleguí in 125

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attendance on the podium. It was the perfect opportunity to rid the world of all three bastards at one fell swoop.

On the morning of the ceremony, three of the Carrer de Toledo Group — El Poeta, José Perez (‘El Mula’), and Pedro Vandellós — hailed a taxi in the Plaça de Catalunya and asked the driver to take them to Espluga. On the way, they picked up two other comrades, Roser Segarra and Juan Elias Saturnino, then drove on to the Masía la Farina to collect the primed device.

The journey back to Barcelona took place in almost complete silence, with nothing untoward happening to arouse the taxi-driver’s suspicions — apart from a moment of panic when they realised nobody had any matches to light the fuse and had to stop en route at a kiosk in San Feliu. Like many anarchists of the time, none of them smoked or drank. They believed that tobacco and alcohol were vices that dominated our lives and prevented us from being truly free. Many were also vegetarians.

On reaching the outskirts of Barcelona, Roser Segarra asked the driver to pull into a side street, at which point they seized him, tied him up, gagged him and locked him in a disused workshop, then drove on to the Paseo de Gracia. Unfortunately, on approaching the town centre they discovered that the police had closed off all the surrounding streets to traffic.

Unable to find another checkpoint-free route into the centre of town, they parked the car as close as possible to the route of the procession, lit the fuse and placed the ignited bomb in the boot.

Unfortunately, they had chosen a spot close to a garage and a quickthinking mechanic, seeing smoke billowing out of the boot, forced it open and removed the fuse before it exploded.

And so the plan failed. With 40,000 Sometent in attendance that day, strutting their stuff along the Paseo de Gracia in front of Anido and Arleguí, like County Down Orangemen on the 12th of July parading before Sir Edward Carson, it would certainly have had maximum impact in terms of publicity. But, then again, a lot of innocent people would have been injured, perhaps killed. Even though the action failed, the story made big headlines the next day.

And that was how Martínez Anido, Arleguí and Bertrán i Musito were able to swagger, unmolested and unchallenged, down the Paseo along with their acolytes and henchmen to loud vivas! from Barcelona’s middle classes. The spectacle, with the crowd’s hysterical adulation of Anido, bore a chilling similarity to the mindless idolisation of Italy’s new fascist leader Benito Mussolini by the Roman bourgeoisie and the hoi polloi.

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In spite of this setback, the Carrer de Toledo comrades remained undaunted. For their next action they planted a bomb on the railway line at the Llobregat Bridge with the intention of derailing the royal train taking the king back to Madrid. However, when when they discovered Alfonso XIII had cancelled his visit to Barcelona they rushed back and dismantled the device in case of accidents.

Undismayed, a little over a week later, on the afternoon of 2 May, the Carrer de Toledo group began finalising their preparations to assassinate former interior minister Juan de la Cierva, who was due to arrive in Barcelona, possibly with the king. The plan, as before, was to bomb the locomotive as it passed through Falset, but yet again Dame Mis-Fortuna intervened.

That afternoon, Roser Benavent, the owner of the bespoke tailors’ workshop on the fourth floor of No. 10 Carrer de Toledo in Sants, sent her workers home early. Soon after the last employee left, comrades arrived in ones and twos. The workshop, incidentally, doubled as a bomb-making laboratory as well as a meeting place.

Roser chatted to the others as she mixed and packed the explosives when, somehow, the potassium chlorate and sugar mixture she was handling ignited and burst into flames, scorching her face and hands and setting her clothes and hair on fire. Running around the room in pain she tried to extinguish the flames that were engulfing her, but in the process she accidentally ignited other explosive and combustible materials that were close by.

Suddenly, an almighty fireball exploded in the room, blasting the apartment and its contents into matchwood and unrecognisable charred shards. The noise could be heard across the barri and beyond.

The apartment turned ino a death trap, filling quickly with thick, acrid chemical smoke and flames. The occupants, screaming in agony and panic, some with their clothes and hair on fire, tried to escape. One comrade jumped to his death from the fourth floor window.

Some of the group, including seventy-year-old Vicens Sales, Roser Segarra and Josefa Crespo were by the door when the explosion occurred and were able to make it into the street without anyone noticing. Juan Elias Saturnino climbed onto the roof and escaped through the adjoining tenement staircase. Others didn’t get away so lightly. Roser Benavent was taken to hospital where she died later that night. Juan Bautista Cuicha and Joan Abau died a few days later, while Joan Baptista Acher, alias El Poeta, lost a hand in the conflagration.

Roser Segarra ran to the dispensary in the nearby Carrer de la Constitución where they did what they could for her, but her injuries were so serious she had to be forcibly restrained to ensure she didn’t 127

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run away while waiting for the ambulance. Young Josefa Crespo also made it to the dispensary where she collapsed and was taken to hospital. Meanwhile, the fire brigade had arrived and decided this was no ordinary house fire. Suspecting they were dealing with a bomb factory they called in the Special Brigade who took charge of the investigation.

Arleguí immediately ordered that the hospitalised victims be interrogated there and then, irrespective of their medical condition or what the doctors said. By the time they reached the hospital Roser Segarra had disappeared and gone into hiding to the group’s safe house down the coast in Villanova i la Geltrú. Seventeen-year-old Josepa Crespo, however, was there, and they began interrogating her in spite of her feverish condition and third-degree burns, refusing her water or painkillers until she answered their questions.

On the bright side, if there was one, the consequences of the explosion could have been worse. Fortunately, most of the explosives and detonators that were normally stored in the Carrer de Toledo apartment had been moved the previous day to the safehouse in la Farinera de Sant Feliu de Llobregat. Had they been there that afternoon the whole street would have been blown to kingdom come.

After the Carrer de Toledo explosion, the police increased the pressure on everyone remotely connected with the CNT. By this time, through informers and information acquired under torture, the Special Brigade had identified Ramón Archs and Pedro Vandellós as the prime movers in the CNT Defence Committee, and knew that Vandellós had financed Roser’s workshop.

Despite these setbacks, the groups kept up their attacks on the regime. The Álvarez brothers, Asdrúbal and Aníbal, came up with a plan to kill Martínez Anido as he was leaving Sunday midday Mass at his Church of Santa Ana next to the Plaza de Catalunya, but when he failed to turn up two Sundays running the operation was aborted in case it had been betrayed.

By the end of May the atmosphere within the movement verged on the fratricidal with wild accusations of ‘informer’ and ‘police spy’ were being bandied around. As more and more militants were gunned down or arrested, rancour and suspicion deepened. The Special Brigade clearly receiving good intelligence. At least some of their informers clearly held positions of responsibility or trust in the union; the police knew who they were looking for. Ramón Archs and Pedro Vandellós were now heading Arleguí’s ‘most wanted’ list.

The wave of arrests that followed turned comrade against 128

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comrade, friend against friend. Only genuinely close friends fully trusted each other in the atmosphere of paranoia that pervaded the movement. Simple arguments between comrades could, on occasion, escalate into fatal gunfights. It was like the Wild West. During an angry debate at a union meeting one old and respected compañero, Manuel Marchis was so outraged when someone suggested he might be a police informer that he shot his accuser dead. A similar thing happened between two old friends: Pere Bautista called Salvador Coll ‘Mallorca’ an Arleguí lackey. Coll was later shot dead in the street in Montjuic, but a few days later the compañeros who killed him learned, belatedly, they had made a tragic and unrectifiable mistake.

Salvador Salsench, a trusted comrade, came up with another idea to get to Martínez Anido. It was questionable, to say the least, but remember these were desperate times and people were clutching at straws. The idea was to kill or wound Anido’s close friend, Martínez Domingo, the Barcelona mayor, then ambush Martínez Anido when he went either to visit his friend in hospital, or to pay his respects at the morgue.

Unusually, Archs and Vandellós didn’t question the morality of shooting an innocent man — if indeed Martínez Domingo could be described as innocent. In fact, they gave Salsench money, a gun and two comrades to cover for him.

I am convinced that in their own minds the situation had reached the stage where they were so despairing of the slaughter going on around them that the idea of sacrificing a compromised bourgeois such as the mayor of Martínez Anido’s Barcelona was acceptable. ‘Collateral damage’ they call it nowadays. More likely they were just angry and frustrated.

The first part of the plan worked, but not the rest. Salsench did shoot and wound the mayor as he walked to his car in the Plaça de San Jaume and, as expected, he was taken to a nearby private clinic, was staked out by half-a-dozen compañeros. Martínez Anido, however, whom everyone assumed would rush to visit his friend, didn’t make an appearance. Again, it seemed that he had been forewarned. Either that or they were never the close friends we assumed them to be.

Anido’s revenge was swift. The night the mayor was shot, on 17 June, the charges against Evelio Boal — of whose former position as CNT national secretary the Special Brigade had only recently become aware — were reduced, and a judge ordered his release on conditional liberty. Boal, however, was also being held at the disposition of the civil governor, so he couldn’t be released 129

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immediately. Instead, he was taken from the Modelo to police headquarters along with with José Dominguez, CNT treasurer Antonio Felíu and twelve others, where they were split up. It was the last time any comrade saw Boal alive.

Convinced that Boal and Dominguez were complicit, directly or indirectly, in organising the attempt on the mayor’s life from prison, Arleguí tortured the men, personally, not for the purpose of eliciting information from them, but for revenge. When he had finished with them, the two victims were thrown, barely conscious, into the street at four o’clock in the morning where Libres gunmen Ramón Sales, Luis Calderón and a man called Tejada were waiting at the top of the Carrer Santa Maria del Mar. Felíu escaped, but not for long. Libres pistoleros finished the job a few days later when Dominguez met with a man he believed to be a journalist in the Paseo de Sant Juan, near the Arco de Triunfo. He had walked into a trap.

These were perilous times for everyone. In the evening of 23 June, Sometent leader Bertrán i Musitu and his son, Joan Bertrán i Güell, were driving along the Carrer Salmerón when they realised they were being followed. With Dato’s fate fresh in their minds, they braked sharply, pulled over to the kerb, jumped out and took cover behind their car, opening fire on the vehicle following them. Their ‘pursuers’, it turned out, were Bertrán’s own men — Sometent — who had taken it upon themselves to protect their chief, so when he stopped and began shooting at them, they didn’t wait to explain themselves and drove off, sharpish. A passing Guardia Civil patrol witnessed the incident and opened fire at the gunmen, seriously wounding Bertran i Musitú’s son in the process. A clear case of ‘situational irony’ if there ever was one, During the last week of June 1921 came the most devastating blows of all for me —the deaths of my friends and mentors, Pedro Vandellós and Ramón Archs.

Sought everywhere by Arleguí’s men, Vandellós and Archs were constantly on the move, never spending two consecutive nights under the same roof. During the day they slept, read or practised their English, venturing out only in the late afternoon and at night.

Vandellós was finally cornered in a ceramic tile works in the Carrer de Toledo on the evening of Friday 24 June. According to the comrades who were with him at the time, he had been collecting union dues when a foreman spotted them and called the local Guardia Civil.

As the patrol approached, the cenetistas opened fire and made their getaway, except Vandellós who took cover in the factory to keep the 130

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Guardia at bay and give the fleeing comrades the chance to escape.

Eventually he ran out of ammunition and was arrested and taken to Barcelona police headquarters where he was brought before Arleguí, who personally beat him to a pulp then murdered him.

According to the official report Vandellós’s death was the result of the application of the ley de fugas outside the La Esperanza biscuit factory in la Verneda while he was being escorted, on foot, to the Palace of Justice. No explanation was offered for the condition of his mutilated body; the cause of death was given as a bullet fired at pointblank range into his temple.

The report in La Vanguardia of Saturday 25 June 1921 stated: Yesterday, the syndicalist Pedro Vandellós was arrested for mounting an armed robbery —together with other persons —on the manufacturer Martin Creuhet and chargehand Juan Tuset in the Carrer de Toledo, seriously wounding both men and making off with the thousand pesetas weekly payroll they were carrying. Some time after the arrest the Guardia from the Consejo de Ciento barracks reported to the civil government that while Pedro Vandellós was under a two-man escort to the Palace of Justice, he broke free of his wrist restraints and took to his heels. The escort called on him to stop, but when he failed to comply they opened fire, grazing him on the back of the head and hitting him in the back, of which injuries he died.

Police records indicate that Pedro Vandellós was a member of the gang known as the “Nameless Ones”, headed by the well-known syndicalist Pedro Boada. Actively involved in trade unionism from an early age he was a member of the action groups and was tried as an alleged accessory in the murders of employers Trinxet and Barret, but was acquitted. He had also been held on remand on a number of occasions, and on 4 August 1919 a court martial issued a warrant for his arrest over an article he published in Solidaridad Obrera relating to the Villalonga trial. He was arrested again on 18 December for the murder of Eduardo Ferrer.

According to official intelligence, Vandellós was the coordinator of the Barcelona terrorist groups, and had been involved in the recent attempt on the life of the mayor, Señor Martínez Domingo. He was also responsible for orchestrating attacks on other authority figures and was recently involved in making the bombs at No. 10, Carrer de Toledo. He was also the person who provided the individual known as ‘El Poeta’ — currently in prison — with the explosives that caused the burning of a car on the Somatent’s trooping of the colour day. Pedro Vandellós and others — now under intense investigation — decided to raise what was needed for an escape to France and to this end organised the recent spate of thefts from private vehicles in Barcelona.

Vandellós was, currently, syndicalism’s main and virtually sole champion in Barcelona.

The manufacturer Don Juan Tuset, injured during the Carrer de Toledo robbery, died yesterday morning in the La Alianza health clinic.

Ramón Archs was the next to fall. Unaware of Vandellós’s fate, Archs received an urgent message the following morning from some unidentified but obviously trusted compañero to meet him in the Plaça Urquinaona. Arriving at the rendezvous by tram, he stepped off the platform and found himself surrounded by a dozen or so secret policemen, and was taken directly to the Atarazanas police barracks.

Downstairs, in the subterranean cells, the ‘sotanos’, he too was brought face to face with General Arleguí who — again — personally oversaw 131

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and led the horrendous torture that followed.

Archs’ remains —his bruised and battered body covered in cigar burns, his torn and bloody torso with his fingernails hanging off and his penis skinned and sliced open with some sharp instrument, probably Arleguí’s infamous stiletto —were found in the gutter of the Carrer Vila i Vila in the early hours of 27 June. Archs’ severed head was found next to the decapitated corpse lay; his nose had been hacked off, the eyes gouged out and his tongue pulled out by the roots.

That was not how La Vanguardia of Tuesday 28 June, 1921 reported Archs’ death: In the early hours of yesterday (27 June) at about four o’clock, four gunshots were heard in the vicinity of the Carrer del Marques del Duero. Police officers arrived on the scene and between the Carrer de Palaudarias and Carrer Mata on the Carrer Via y Vila they found the lifeless body of a man laid out on the ground, but having combed the area found nothing suspicious. The duty magistrate was called to the scene and ordered the corpse to be taken to the morgue.

At the time the body was unidentified, but police inquiries later ascertained it to be that of the well known trade unionist Ramón Archs. Police headquarters furnished the following memorandum on said person’s trade union activities: “Ramón Archs Serra, 34, locksmith-mechanic, a native of the city, son of Vicenta and Manuel. This individual was a highly dangerous and activist syndicalist and had been involved in several attacks on employers, including the electricity company chief, Don Pujol, who was murdered on the Carrer de Poniente; Archs was the alleged perpetrator of that killing and had been on a Special Court wanted list since 19 January last.

Because of his violent history on behalf of the Union he enjoyed considerable prestige among its more activist members and was a member of the “gun gangs”, being No 2 in the those headed by Pedro Valdellós Romero, with whom he took part in several attacks — being a member of the terrorist gang that met in the Carrer de Toledo in Sans and in the Carrer del Olmo tavern, a gang that orchestrated the thwarted outrage in the Paseo de Gracia on the day of the Sometent’s trooping of the colour. He also organised the attack on the Guardia Civil in the Carrer de Corcega.

Ramón Archs, the son of the renowned anarchist [Manuel] Archs executed in Montjuich, embraced his father’s beliefs from an early age and was well-known for his hot-headedness. Archs, who has had a police record as a militant anarchist since 1909, was employed at the Hispano Suiza plant in September 1910, and was secretary of the Metalworkers’ Union, playeing an active part in the strike that year. When police attempted to arrest him for his role in the strike — along with four or five others of his colleagues who made a run for it — they came under fire from the anarchists. As a result of this incident a number of bench warrants were issued for Archs’s arrest and he was finally detained on 14 October while on the run, having stabbed the manager of Maquinista Terrestre y Maritima in the back as the latter was entering his home in Sarriá, causing him grave injury —but was acquitted by a jury in November 1911. Early in 1912 Archs left for France where he remained until he returned to Spain, after syndicalism and outrages flared up again.

Archs’ murder was a personal blow. I had loved him like a father. I still get flashbacks of his advice to me about screaming and trying to last out for forty-eight hours. Arleguí, however, hadn’t wanted information — he wanted vengeance.

The manner of Archs’s and Vandellós’s deaths numbed us; words couldn’t describe our grief — then came the rage. That night a dozen or so of us got together to plan our retaliation. It was too difficult to 132

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get to Arleguí quickly, especially with the heightened security around him, so we opted for an alternative and easier target — the Hunters’ Club at the top of the Ramblas, by the Plaça de Catalunya. It was probably the most prestigious and exclusive private club in Barcelona, the cigar-smoke-filled backroom of Catalonia’s political and industrial elite was where plots were hatched and unionists’ fates decided.

Arleguí and Anido were both members and frequent attendees.

We attacked the club three days later, on 30 June at 8:30 in the evening. Driving past slowly, in two cars, we opened fire on the members seated at the bar-terrace with our new M1921 Thompson machineguns. In the panic that followed, young Joan Tarrago ran to the window and threw in two homemade hand grenades, which did a considerable amount of damage, wounding around half-a-dozen club members who were milling around by the club windows.

Undaunted, the employers maintained their anti-working-class crusade. Every day there was more bad news. Francisco Martínez Valls and his group were captured, as were Roser Segarra and her son, Vicens Sales along with two comrades as they crossed the frontier into France. In August, in La Farinera de Clot, the police captured Josep Saleta and Andreu Masdeu, another two members of the Carrer de Toledo group.

Also in August, nineteen-year-old Ángel Noguera accidentally blew himself up, along with another young compañero as prepared a bomb in his mother’s china shop. The device exploded in his hands, seriously injuring his fourteen-year-old brother who was asleep in the adjoining room. The bomb led the police to investigate the young men’s links with others in the barri, which in turn led them to Lluís Dufur, alias Larrosa, Salvador Salsench and the arsenal store in Montjuic. It also led to the comrades at the safe house in Can Vidiella in Falset, in Tarragona.

These were the last of Barcelona’s original action groups — but a new generation was ready and waiting in the wings.

With public attention focused on the war in Morocco(2) and his friend the Conde de Coello y Portugal at the helm of the Ministry of the Interior, Martínez Anido felt sufficiently secure to launch another ferocious province-wide offensive against the CNT. Guardia Civil units patrolled the streets of industrial Catalonia, stopping and searching workers standing or walking along in groups of three or more, arresting anyone they suspected of union membership. Sometent and Libres pistoleros were also out and about, distributing leaflets that threatened leading unionists with shooting.

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The day these leaflets appeared, three men sat, drinking beers, at a pavement table at the bar opposite the Carrer del Padro union hall.

It was early evening. Across the road, workers were arriving to pay their union dues when, suddenly, the three men, with Browning automatics in their hands, stood up and opened fire, hitting three cenetistas chatting by the doorway to the union hall.

Having emptied their magazines, the three pistoleros ran off along the Carrer del Padre and down a side street in the direction of the Plaça del Rey. But they hadn’t reckoned on the presence of Batista, a quick-witted athletic compañero who took off after them, like a bat out of a bat cave, but in a different direction. Batista, a thirty-year-old agricultural labourer — tall, blond and freckle-faced with the look of a fox about him — was reputed to be the best hunter in Catalonia.

Batista wasn’t running away, he was taking a short cut through the Carrer Camino de Aleixar to the Plaça del Rey, where he thought the pistoleros might be headed. He was right. They had met up by the fountain there to catch their breath and reload; they were laughing.

Creeping up on them silently, from behind, Batista drew his Star: ‘Hey!,’ he shouted. ‘You three!’ They turned around, drawing their weapons at the same time. But they weren’t fast enough. Batista shot two of them dead with one shot each to the head. The third ran for his life without looking back.

Life in Zaragoza in the summer of 1921 was relatively quiet compared with Barcelona. Even though the union’s legal situation remained ambiguous, an armed truce prevailed and the CNT unions were left more or less to their own devices. There were pistoleros in town, but so far they hadn’t dared to stick their heads above the parapet.

Durruti was working in a small engineering workshop run by a compañero at the time. At night he kept himself to himself, in Pina’s house, out of the public gaze and off the minds of the police. His free time he spent reading and absorbing the books and pamphlets on Pina’s bookshelves, especially the works of both Bakunin and Kropotkin; the decisive influence was that of Bakunin.

Our main preoccupation was the situation of the comrades being held on remand in Zaragoza’s Predicadores Prison, one of whom, Francisco Ascaso, was very ill, having been severely beaten by the Guardia Civil. His poor state of health wasn’t helped by by the damp cells of the ancient prison.

Durruti hadn’t yet met Ascaso, but he’d heard a great deal about him, and more than once he had said he wanted to visit Ascaso in jail, something which Pina had always managed to talk him out of. They 134

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didn’t want him drawing attention to himself and falling foul of Zaragoza’s malicious and obsessive police chief, Don Pedro Aparicio, who hated anarchists and the CNT with a vengeance.

The previous year, during a waiters’ strike in Zaragoza, someone had planted a bomb in the Cafe Royalty for which the police chief blamed cenetistas, and tried to frame, among others, Victoriano Gracia, one of Zaragoza’s best-known shop stewards, for the outrage.

Unfortunately for Don Pedro Aparicio, Victoriano, a journalist, was able to expose the police conspiracy in a pamphlet smuggled out of prison, which he published under his nom de plume, ‘Tentieso’.

Between Gracia’s exposé and a brilliant defence by the CNT’s subsequently murdered lawyer Francesc Layret, everyone was acquitted and Don Pedro Aparicio had been nearly forced to resign.

With large numbers of ‘governmental’ prisoners arriving every day, victims of the state’s internment policy, Barcelona’s Modelo Prison couldn’t cope with only four galleries allocated to housing so many political prisoners, who were being crammed in six, seven or even eight to a cell.

The Modelo, a fairly new prison, built in 1904, had been designed to hold a maximum 620 prisoners; it now held over 1,200, a figure that was rising daily. To alleviate the pressure on the prisons, every 10 days or so, ‘strings’ —chain gangs —of around 100 manacled ‘governmental’ prisoners would leave the prisons of Aragón and Catalonia, on foot, by conducción ordinario, for La Coruña, in Galicia!

These conducciones were staggered to ensure that the front of one chain gang never met up with the tail of an earlier one. All in all over 1,500 people were deported in this way. No one knows how many prisoners died en route.

August and September were bad months for the labour movement. By the end of August, Trotsky’s Red Army had driven the last remnants of Nestor Makhno’s Makhnovischina guerrilla army —250 men —across the Dneiper into Romania. From there, after a short spell in prison, Makhno went into exile in Paris, where I met him a few years later.

In Barcelona, the persecution of the CNT continued, unrelentingly, while the confederal defence groups were steadily decimated by Anido’s offensive. Thousands of compañeros were being arrested and tortured — sometimes personally by Arleguí and Anido, who regularly sat in on the interrogations. There were also scores of street murders, disappearances and, of course, the summary executions carried out under the guise of the iniquitous ley de fugas.

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Yet another bomb exploded prematurely as it was being primed in an apartment in the Carrer dels Metges in the barri Santa Catalina, killing one comrade and seriously injuring another. The subsequent police investigation led to the arrest of two more Defence Committee comrades, Lluís Dufur ‘Larrosa’ and Salvador Salsench. The unravelling of their network had led the authorities to one of our larger arms caches on Montjuic and the arrest of the owners of the can Vidiella de Falset, another of our safe houses and arms depots.

In spite of the disarticulation of so many action groups, and the arrest on 10 September of Soli editor Eugenio Martínez Fernández, the clandestine structure of the CNT did survive and even though the police kept closing down our printshops we continued publishing Solidaridad Obrera on a regular basis.

By the end of September the situation was serious. Libres membership stood at around 100,000 and, with the war in Morocco going from bad to worse, on 1 October, the Ministry of War announced the call-up of a further 90,000 men. Not since the time of the Inquisition had officially sanctioned terror and repression been so widespread, with anti-labour hysteria and hatred openly fomented on the front pages and in the editorial columns of the bourgeois and monarchist press where Anido and Arleguí’s brutal actions were presented as ‘necessary measures’ to protect the country against Bolshevik plots seeking to overthrow the government of Spain.(3) NOTES 1: Revolutionary syndicalists and the Profintern. Maurín’s ideas on revolutionary

syndicalism were derived mainly from George Sorel, Arturo Labriola and Errico Leone, but despite his enthusiasm for Lenin, Maurín was sensitive to the dangers inherent in Bolshevism. However, as with many, many people at the time, his heart and mind had been won over by the success of the Russian Revolution.

Attacking his anarcho-syndicalist critics in the Confederation, Maurín presented this ideological debate as a power struggle between two tendencies. The first being those who followed the pro-Bolshevik line that labour unions should be class organisations involved in a class struggle of the masses, joining with other likeminded bodies internationally; the second, those opposing the Moscow line, who he represented as sectarians whose tactics were based on ‘bourgeois’ individual action — which could only fail — and whose ideological base would only lead the union towards doctrinaire reformism.

His argument was a deliberate misrepresentation of the anarcho-syndicalist position, i.e., that of those opposed to the Bolshevik line, but his over-simplification of the argument wasn’t simply down to his hostility to anarchism. It was because he needed to focus on what he saw as the central issue —which was Bolshevik antisyndicalism. The Marxist-syndicalists were desperately searching for any Jesuitical arguments that would legitimise Communist Party control of the Confederation.

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1921: NOTES Writing in Lucha Social, the eminent anarchist teacher José Alberola critically dissected Maurín’s argument that ideology should be subordinated to action: ‘This desire for triumph at all costs without concern for means is a dangerous tactic, which leads inevitably to false results... the principle that the end justifies the means disgusts all rational and reasonable minds... We anarchists have no wish to fragment the organisations, but what we do want is to ensure that they do not serve as footstools for would-be dictators and future despots.’

When Maurín and the other Marxist-syndicalists on the CNT’s National Committee failed to win the support of the CNT rank-and-file they turned to slandering their opponents, particularly Pestaña, whom they accused, along with Leval, Wilkens, Xifort and Duran of turning against the Bolsheviks for personal reasons, having been influenced by the anti-Bolshevik prejudices of the Russian anarchists, and because Moscow had turned down their request for financial support and for arms. This provoked the Levantine Regional Committee to launch a forthright attack on the National Committee: ‘’The National Committee, with singular dedication —and as its unique argument —slanders all those who criticise its woeful performance, no matter how reasoned or calm these may be. In our view, the National Committee’s performance is, frankly, disturbing and contradicts the history of the Confederation, distorting both its ethos and the trajectory it has always followed.’

It argued that until another National Congress could meet and reverse the decisions of the 1919 Congress, CNT ideology should remain libertarian communist, something Maurín’s National Committee was advised to remember.

The Levant memorandum called for the resignation, en bloc, of the National Committee, a call that was supported by a number of other regional committees, and a threat from the Levante unions that they would resign en masse from the CNT if it did not withdraw from the Profintern.

2: In Morocco things went from bad to worse for the military — and for the king.

Since the earlier major Moroccan crisis in 1909, the one that provoked the ‘Tragic Week’ and the judicial murder of Francisco Ferrer, Spain had continued with its policy of brutally repressing the independence-seeking tribes of its North African protectorate. Then, in July 1921, more than 1,500 kilometres from Barcelona, Spain’s main expeditionary force in Morocco was taken by surprise when 20,000 Rif tribesmen led by Abd-el-Krim emerged from the desert to out-manoeuvre and massacre the Spanish troops at a place called Anual.

At least 14,000 Spanish soldiers were slaughtered at Anual that day, with more than 4,000 troops taken prisoner along with the entire Spanish army’s armoury.

Shortly afterwards, the fort at Monte Arruit surrendered and every soldier in its 7,000-man garrison was slaughtered. Only the officers survived, having been saved for ransom.

Spain’s hubristic officer class, which was forever interfering in the country’s domestic political life and setting itself above the democratically elected Cortes — had now lost most of Spain’s protectorate in the Maghreb, and had been almost driven into the sea at Melilla. The defeat was ignominious.

Morocco was the price Spain paid for remaining neutral in the Great War. The unpopularity of the colonial war at home, corruption and abysmally poor military planning against well-armed, well-trained and ideologically-committed Moorish tribesmen had culminated in a series of shocking defeats comparable only to the loss of the Philippines and the last of Spain’s South American empire 23 years earlier.

The Spanish army may have been the poorest in Europe, but it was still the most

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 expensive to maintain. Overseeing every six poorly paid, badly fed and mistreated soldiers was one grossly over paid commissioned officer — and for every 250 men an even more grotesquely over paid general.

With about a third of the national budget going to the Ministry of War, and most of that to the officer class, these military dilettantes squandered absolute fortunes.

Corruption and malfeasance was rampant, especially in Morocco, where millions of pesetas of public money were wasted or stolen on a lavish scale by officers and monarchist politicians.

Even with five military academies churning out an assembly-line trainee officer corps, the army was so still so inefficient that for ten consecutive years it lost, on average, 13,000 men a year fighting the Rifs in Morocco.

Most people knew who was responsible for the Moroccan fiasco —King Alfonso XIII. The king, however, a tremendous self-admirer, didn’t see it that way at all.

In his imagination he was an exemplary blend of world leader and great military strategist, and was forever boring everyone with anecdotes about his strategic prowess. The stories and jokes reminded me of those told of George III, who had been so enthralled by the Duke of Wellington’s account of the Battle of Waterloo that he ended up believing not only he had been there himself, but that he had personally routed Napoleon’s Grand Army.

Desperate to prove himself to parliament and to posterity with the legacy of a resounding victory in Morocco, Alfonso couldn’t resist meddling in military and diplomatic spheres from which he should have kept well clear. The Moroccan campaign was his own personal crusade, an obsessive compulsion, his legacy to Spain, and he was forever over riding advice from experienced senior officers on the ground.

The final straw came when, in spite of Ministry of War orders to the contrary, he ordered General Silvestre, the commanding officer, to retake Alhucemas, where Abd-el-Krim’s guerrilla forces had previously ambushed and slaughtered Spanish forces. Silvestre queried the royal order, and received the following telegram from the king: ‘Do as I tell you. Do not listen to the Minister of War. The man is an imbecile.’ The upshot was that General Silvestre committed suicide, and Martínez Anido’s dirty war in Barcelona was relegated to the inside pages of the national press.

The explosion of popular anger over the Moroccan war edged the country even closer to civil war, paralysing it with strikes and angry protests. Not only were the Spanish people demanding an end to the unpopular war, they also started calling for the arrest and trial of those responsible for the disaster at Anual — meaning, of course, the king.

Prime Minister Manuel Allendesalazar Muñoz de Salazar resigned and was replaced by a predictable old Majorcan reactionary, Antonio Maura y Montaner, who formed a government of ‘die-hards’ committed to imprisoning and intimidating protestors, suppressing the working class —and ensuring the middle classes were kept happy. If Maura’s government couldn’t win the war against Rif tribesmen, it would win it on the streets of Barcelona against the CNT. Memories of 1909, when Catalan workers were conscripted to fight in the deeply unpopular Moroccan war — the action that triggered the ‘Tragic Week’ — still haunted Barcelona’s workers. History was repeating itself.

Maura’s new Minister of the Interior, the Conde de Coello y Portugal, the former governor of Zaragoza and another of the breed of aristos who were convinced that the only way to pacify the ‘nation’ was through terror — started cramming the prisons and penal colonies.

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1921: NOTES Maura threw the Catalan middle classes a bone by co-opting leading Catalinistas Francesc Cambó and Sometent leader Josep Bertrán i Musitu into his cabinet, promising them a golden age of low wages and the return of a cap-doffing, forelock-tugging working class. The Sindicatos Libres, however, started believing their own propaganda and began organising along the lines of ‘proper’ labour unions. They even launched a membership recruitment campaign in the Cine Bohème de Hostafrachs where their leaders made wage and employment demands that worried Ramón Sales’s bourgeois paymasters.

Alfonso XIII, meanwhile, impervious to the growing popular outrage, took off with his court to his summer residence in Deauville in Normandy.

3: The loss of Spain’s international markets at the end of the Great War brought out the worst in Spain’s businessmen, especially the Catalan industrialists, many of whom were prepared to destroy anyone or anything that stood in the way of their profit margins — the CNT being the principal threat. I should say, however, that, in other parts of Spain, the CNT — which was steadily imposing its will no matter how heavily the odds were stacked against it — was beginning to be tolerated, with many employers coming to terms with its power and negotiating with its representatives. But as far as Catalonia, Valencia and Andalucia were concerned, union organisers or anyone arguing the case for improved wages and conditions were looked upon as agents of Bolshevism — the advance guard of Trotsky’s Red Army — and sacked; some were murdered. Red plots were constantly being uncovered, everywhere. Lack of deference, involvement in strikes and union activity were all the proof of ‘redness’ needed for a death warrant to be issued against you, especially in Barcelona.

The stratagem of fomenting the threat of the ‘Red Menace’ fitted the mood of the time, as the middle-classes and a substantial part of the Roman Catholic and reactionary working classes were psychologically primed for the harsh, widespread repression by the anti-Red hysteria ignited by the press —and fanned from the pulpits.

Martinez Anido and the Spanish government were well aware of the high degree of discontent by the workers. The news from Africa was worsening day by day, and the army needed more reinforcements, which meant a possible repetition of the revolutionary upheavals of 1909’s Tragic Week, so Anido’s support for Catalan big business in its apocalyptic battle with organised labour was increasingly restrained. Anido himself was now gradually coming round to the view that the workers’ standard of living had to be raised in order to establish and maintain social peace, but like all right-wing hierarchs and oligarchs, he was unable to distinguish between justice and charity.

Instead of stamping down on all manifestations of independent organised labour as he had done previously, Anido actively encouraged the idea of forced unionisation, at least into the Libres and the Catholic unions, which respected authority and private property, and which he believed would be more amenable to being contained and policed in a state-controlled union. He saw these as effective methods of weakening the anarcho-syndicalists.

Anido’s turnabout on unions brought him into conflict with the patronal, whose objectives —to drive down wages, restore the ‘open shop’ on a national scale, and boost the profits of the country’s capitalists and rentiers — remained unchanged.

On the political front, the patronal ratcheted up pressure on the Madrid legislators to counter CNT and anarchist activism — by which they meant passing laws criminalising the anarcho-syndicalist labour movement with its ‘unreasonable’ and ‘subversive’ demands —and, of course, against the revolutionary elements within

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 the CNT who were actively planning to overthrow class rule. CNT members and anarchists everywhere were subjected to intense persecution by law enforcement agencies and vigilante groups who, when they didn’t kill them, beat-up, tortured and imprisoned them on trumped-up charges.

The next wave of repression swept in with dramatic suddenness with a series of coordinated raids and arrests that had been elaborately and surreptitiously planned since 1919. Modelled on the US Department of Justice’s infamous November 1919 roundup of ‘Bolsheviks’ on the instructions of US Attorney General A. Mitchell Palmer, the raids in Spain targeted anarchists, syndicalists and other ‘communists’.

For months, years in fact, the capitania-general, the Special Brigade and the Ministry of the Interior, the Gobernación, had been concentrating on subverting the CNT, quietly infiltrating spies into our ranks —into the construction, textile, service and steel industries, the merchant navy and among the dockers and woodworkers — all of them pretending to be either conscious militants or as stereotypical radical agitators. The number of these ‘undercover penetration agents’ who rose within the Organisation to become branch chairmen or, in a few cases, onto the regional and national committees genuinely surprised me. Much of their success was down to recruiting agents and paid informers within the union itself, which they did by astutely identifying opportunistic, corrupt or timid and compliant individuals who were open to blackmail and compromise.

Whenever there was a strike, state and private security agents moved constantly among the genuine strikers, ingratiating themselves, being ‘useful’ while all the time collecting or manufacturing ‘evidence’ — hearsay, factual and fictional, recording all their utterances, habits and whereabouts — for their ‘confidential reports’ on anarchists and labour organisers. These were then passed to Lasarte’s General Intelligence Section and fed into his elaborate classified card index, which now had well over 30,000 files, each with detailed data not only on individual cenetistas and anarchists and their friendship networks, but also on social conditions in specific areas, publications, schisms, personality differences and so on. Anything and everything, including the most arrant nonsense, was recorded, classified and filed.

It wasn’t only secret state agents and police informers who engaged in this treacherous work; much of it was contracted out by the large employers to private detective and security companies such as the Baron de Koenig’s ‘Great Detective Agency’, which had the extensive resources and influence of Catalan and Spanish industrial-financial interests behind them. According to Defence Committee estimates, around ninety per cent of all the militants arrested or murdered in the street had been identified by these confidentes. Organised labour wasn’t their only target. Their task was also to undermine, stifle, demoralise or crush all liberal-left, progressive, opposition groups; intimidate lawyers, writers and other champions of civil liberties; and suppress all those engaged in struggling for justice and decent living standards against the anti-democratic excesses of a terrified, ignorant, corrupt, criminal, ruthless and brutal oligarchy of predatory vestedinterest groups.

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In the six years between January 1917 and January 1922 there were over 800 ‘social crimes’ or ‘terrorist outrages recorded in Catalonia, compared with 665 for the rest of Spain in the same period. Between 1910 and 1921, the murder toll was 23 employers, 21 managers and foremen, 9 members of the security forces — and 122 workers.

1922 witnessed the birth of Spanish fascism with the introduction of Martínez Anido’s ‘project’ — whose pilot scheme was launched in Barcelona — for the creation of a ‘national’ or statecontrolled labour union. In mid-February, Leopoldo Mateos, Maura’s Minister of Labour, met the leaders of forty-four Barcelonan labour organisations —including the UGT, the Catholic unions and the Libres — to discuss uniting in one corporate labour union.

The CNT responded with a manifesto stating that no selfrespecting labour union could or should be dependent on — or complicit with — government bodies.

February also saw the arrest of Joaquín Maurín and the end of his pro-Bolshevik National Committee. The new, solidly anarchosyndicalist National Committee of the CNT quickly reaffirmed its commitment to anarchist principles in a manifesto published in Acción Social Obrera on 1 March, 1922: We reject all means of struggle that are not direct action, and that do not pursue as their goal the establishment of libertarian communism . . . We are, and always will be, irreconcilable enemies of all dictatorships, whatever label they carry . . . We believe in federalism . . . We recognise that freedom goes from the individual to the community . . . We remain enemies of the state and all its institutions . . . and our principles are those of the CNT.

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was more than the usual internecine emotional tension. Lliga and Catalan Union oligarchs Francesc Cambó i Batlle and Josep Puig i Cadafalch, wanted autonomy while the captain-general’s first loyalty —as an army officer —was to the king and to Spain as a unitary state.

The reason for the dispute was Anido’s insistence on maintaining the state of siege, keeping troops on Barcelona’s streets on the pretext of fighting terrorism. The first indication of middle-class dissent surfaced in a thinly-veiled attack on the civil governor in a letter published in the Catalanist paper La Veu de Catalunya. The author, a city councillor by the name of Maybnes, warned Martínez Anido to stick to matters of public order and not to meddle in Catalan politics, something that he clearly believed he wasn’t doing particularly well.

Irritated that the nationalists of the Lliga regarded him purely as an attack dog, Anido demanded a retraction from the councillor, which Maybnes refused, claiming his democratic rights to express his opinions. That ended the fragile alliance between the Lliga and Martínez Anido.

Frustrated by Antonio Maura’s inability to crush the CNT, the Catalan industrialists provoked a further government crisis in early March. This time they succeeded in ousting the prime minister, and on 8 March the king appointed a new prime minister, José Sánchez Guerra y Martínez Cabra, a lawyer, journalist and bit of a liberal —but not too liberal. His appointment was to have profound consequences for Barcelona — and for the rest of Spain.

Sánchez Guerra’s first act as prime minister was to lift the state of emergency, restore some civil liberties, and order the release of all the ‘governmental internees’, the detenidos gubernativos. He also appointed a new military governor of Barcelona, General Miguel Primo de Rivera — but still he refused to lift the ban on the CNT. Despite the interdiction, the freed ‘government internees’ —who had been imprisoned for over a year in the Menorcan Castle of Mola —were treated like conquering heroes on their return to Barcelona on 4 April, 1922, their popularity greatly enhanced because of the time they had spent in prison. When their boat docked, thousands of cenetistas waited to welcome them on the quayside under a sea of red and black flags and banners fluttering in the spring breeze. That evening, Barcelona’s cafés and bars were packed to overflowing as exuberant compañeros greeted each other, exchanging experiences and news of family, friends and colleagues. It was an atmosphere charged with jubilation, euphoria — and hope.

Ignoring the union ban, all the CNT locals in Barcelona opened up their halls and the barri committees organised public meetings at 142

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theatres and other large public venues throughout the city. The celebrations could only be described as an anarchist Thanksgiving.

Lara and I attended the public meeting organised by the Woodworkers’ Union at the Victoria Theatre on the Paral.lel. In terms of the number of victims, the woodworkers were among the hardesthit of all the sindicatos. It was a highly emotional occasion. In a slow, measured pace, his voice close to breaking at times, chairman Liberto Callejas read out the names of each of the 107 cenetistas killed during the state of emergency. As each name was read out, a firm and clear voice from the crowd rang out: ‘Presente!’ —a painful reminder of the human cost of the struggle for justice. I too shed tears listening to the names of the dead, men I had grown close to during my four years in the city —Evelio Boal, José María Foix, Antonio Feliu, Pedro Vandellós and, above all, my dear comrade Ramón Archs.

In spite of the much vaunted promises of ‘liberalisation’ and the fact that the union was now tolerated everywhere else in Spain, pistolero and Libres gunmen continued their murderous campaign, unabated and unchecked, against the still-outlawed CNT. In an attempt to resolve this anomalous situation, on 11 April Jesús Vallejo led a CNT delegation to meet Martínez Anido, to ask for the union’s recognition. Catalonia’s viceroy listened in silence to Vallejo. He was more ill-tempered than usual that day as a strike of CNT cabaret artists and musicians had closed all the city’s entertainment venues.

‘I alone say what happens in Barcelona, no one else, and if you don’t get out my office this minute, I’ll have the lot of you thrown into a Montjuic dungeon, maybe worse!’

As if to emphasise his point, the tortured and mutilated body of another compañero, Juan Rius Albert, was dumped in the street that afternoon.

Sánchez Guerra’s reforms made not a whit of difference to the arrogant behaviour of the Catalan oligarchs. The patronal continued implementing their blacklist, making it impossible for the newly-freed prisoners to find work and feed their families unless they handed in their CNT card.

As the popular mood shifted from optimism to ominous anticipation, a more combative mood began to permeate the groups and the rank-and-file militants. In an attempt to win them back to anarcho-syndicalism, cenetistas began leafleting the factories where the workforce had gone over to the Libres.

The strategy worked. Slowly we began winning notable little 143

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victories, including the return to the CNT of Adolfo Domingo Calanda, the former secretary of the painters’ union who had defected to the Libres. Unfortunately, he was murdered a few days later by Libres pistoleros for his ‘apostasy’.

Salvador Segui was among the Castle of Mola prisoners released that April. Prior to his arrest he had been subjected to heavy criticism from fellow unionists over the part he played in convincing Barcelona’s CNT unions to sign up to the industrial tribunals, the ‘Mixed Commissions’ run jointly by management and workers. It was a sore point with many compañeros who saw it as the first steps on the slippery slope of reformism and a betrayal, a denial of the class struggle, the keystone of anarcho-syndicalism.

A hard core of malicious and ignorant characters, including socalled ‘comrades’, had been spreading unfounded gossip and maligning Segui’s integrity, a charge which few people paid any attention to as they were clearly unsubstantiated smears and downright lies fed and paid-for by the patronal.

One story had him holding two Mahon Savings Bank accounts, a lie that the local bank manager publicly denied. Segui was also blamed for the collapse of the Rio Tinto miners’ strike, which everyone knew was down to the UGT, whose strike it had been anyway.

But the eighteen months Segui spent banged up in the Castle of Mola —and everything that had occurred in-between —had taken its toll. Prison can do that to a man; it gives you time to read, and to think and reflect. Now he no longer believed it was possible or desirable to compromise with the employers or the Madrid and Barcelona politicians.

I noticed this change in opinion shortly after his release, at his first public meeting in the Casa de Democracia. Segui was an electrifying public speaker, but when he wasn’t on a platform, he always spoke sitting down, which was unusual; nor did he use any of the usual oratorical affectations, gestures and postures adopted by most public speakers of the time.

The occasion in question was an anti-Moroccan War meeting, but before he could address the main issue, he had to face his critics in what turned out to be a ‘trial of honour’ when he found himself accused of betraying the principles of the Organisation over the Mixed Commissions, and of collaborating with employers and state agencies.

It was reassuring to see him: calm and dignified, seated at the table, quietly and convincingly refuting all the arguments and accusations thrown at him.

Segui’s rhetoric was never Jesuitical or demagogic. He always 144

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answered questions directly, including those realating to his muchcriticised earlier support for the Mixed Commissions, the employer-worker tribunals that had been the cause of so much dissension within the union. He could wile the birds from the trees.

For more than four hours he spoke, convincingly, and without pulling any punches or making excuses, succinctly explaining his reasoning at the time. It was a salutary lesson for those of us who, while conceding the importance of ideas, also appreciated the importance of honesty, moral integrity and dignified conduct.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I did agree to the “Mixed Commissions” without first putting the proposals to a vote of the rank-and-file, but the reality was that hundreds of comrades — including the most prominent and capable militants such as Ángel Pestaña and Manuel Buenacasa —had been interned indefinitely. The Barcelona Local Federation asked me to attend an urgent meeting with representatives of the Prisoners’ Committee in Barcelona’s Modelo prison, so I went along to hear what the prisoners’ delegates — Ángel Pestaña and Manuel Buenacasa — had to say. Basically, they wanted the Local Federation to accept the Mixed Commissions in order that they, the internees, the “governmental prisoners”, could be freed.

‘I replied that as far as I was concerned to do so was out of the question as it undermined the basic principles of anarcho-syndicalism.

I did, however, put their request before the Local Federation, who rejected it out of hand. Pestaña and Buenacasa asked for another meeting, at which they told me that if we rejected the Mixed Commissions, they would form their own Local Federation within the prison and split the Organisation.

‘Basically, they wanted out of jail. That’s why the Local Federation accepted the prisoners’ demand — or rather Pestaña and Buenacasa’s demands —to prevent a split! We agreed and the prisoners were freed.

‘I didn’t lose any sleep over it because — as I have said many times —anarcho-syndicalism will undergo many defeats before it wins its final victory. Defeats are never permanent — they are transitory.

Anarcho-syndicalism wins and loses strikes, and so it will be — until the end, when the working class, through the social revolution, finally does away with both capitalism and the state. Until then, however, we should not feel ashamed about losing a strike every so often.

‘As for the Rio Tinto strike, that was entirely a matter for the National Committee. I was a member of the Andalucian Regional Committee at the time and had no direct dealings with the National Committee. I went along because Buenacasa asked me to attend as his representative, which I did, but I was not responsible for the 145

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outcome. The strike was already lost.’

By the end of the evening Segui had won over the bulk of his critics, regained the confidence of the rank-and-file — if that had ever been in doubt — and re-established his reputation as a man of honour and integrity. In spite of any tactical differences we may have had, he was, without doubt, the pre-eminent anarcho-syndicalist speaker and labour organiser of his generation. His rhetoric was mesmerising, like some radical Pied Piper.

Segui concluded his talk by reaffirming the anarchist principles to which he adhered firmly.

‘The only way to challenge bourgeois decadence,’ he argued, ‘is by building a society based on libertarian communism. This isn’t some wild and unattainable dream, it is a realistic possibility that can and will be achieved through experience.

‘The moral values that once justified the role of the middle classes have long-since disappeared —completely. Now they have no choice but to revert to violence. A new sense of justice is crystallising deep within the souls of working people across Spain, and I have no doubt that it is these values that will ultimately overcome capitalism and the state.’

It was Segui’s first meeting in an intense, year-long propaganda campaign that was to take him across Catalonia, Aragón and to the Balearics.

One Saturday evening shortly after the prisoners were freed, Laureano and I were chatting in the Café Español when one of the waiters, Juan García Oliver, came over to our table.

‘Something is going on,’ he whispered mysteriously. ‘I can’t explain here; can we meet later at the Tastavin at ten o’clock?’

Intrigued, we agreed and made our way over there later that evening.

The back room of the Tastavin was tightly packed. García Oliver and another compañero, Domenech Rivas, also from the Waiters’ Union, sat at a table at the far end of the room. He called for order.

‘Compañeros!’ said Domenech. ‘As you probably all know, Zaragoza looks like being an important arena for the union over the coming months, and although the CNT is strong there, we still need as many experienced militants as possible in the city, especially in the run-up to the trial of the three comrades accused of the attempted murder of the industrialist Josep Bertrán.

‘Zaragoza’s oligarchs are preparing a major anti-CNT offensive, 146

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a two-pronged strategy of terror aimed at crushing the sindicato through the courts and on the streets, similar in many ways to what Anido has been up to here in Barcelona. In an attempt to pre-empt new liberal legislation they are preparing a number of show trials in an attempt to denigrate and criminalise the CNT, especially the compañeros allegedly involved in the Bernal and Adolfo Gutierrez killings. If these trials go against us it will have serious consequence not only for those on trial, but also for the Organisation.

‘We also know that many of Barcelona’s pistoleros have either moved or are moving to Zaragoza. They are being recruited by the former governor, the Conde de Coello, and sponsored by the Cardinal Archbishop of Zaragoza, that old dyed-in-the-wool integrist, Soldevilla.

‘They are given sinecure jobs as tram inspectors and are being lodged in seminaries, monasteries and convents. But the principal reason they are heading for Zaragoza is to undermine the CNT there — through terror.

‘Some of you might already be aware that I have been appointed the chargehand for a large new hotel currently being built in Zaragoza, the Saturno Park. It’s my job to hire the waiters, kitchen staff and other ancillary workers for the project, so I can promise work for anyone prepared to help. Those interested should see me later.’

Later, Laureano and I talked about going to Zaragoza over a tinto.

Apart from everything else, another reason for going was that an extraordinary CNT National Conference of regional committees was due to be held there later in the summer.

Recent events had exposed serious structural weaknesses in the Organisation that needed to be addressed urgently. Given the everchanging political landscape and Martínez Anido and Arleguí’s visceral hatred of the CNT, it was impossible to say when another similar congress might be possible. The extraordinary National Congress held in Madrid in 1919 had generated a lot of enthusiasm and the opportunity to discuss ideas and meet new compañeros among the hundreds of young militants who had flocked there from all over the country, hitchhiking or jumping freight trains. Neither Laureano nor I wanted to miss what promised to be an interesting time, and a lot of fun. It was a moment to be seized, so we both volunteered our services that night to Domenech.

Due to unexpected circumstances, however, we were held up in Barcelona and didn’t arrive in Zaragoza until a week later than expected. We found lodgings in a pensión with half-a-dozen or so other compañeros who were already working on the Saturno Park project, but because we arrived so late all the jobs were gone.

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Even so, finding work wasn’t a problem, and with an introduction to the Maitre d’ from Domenech, Laureano and I presented ourselves at the Hotel Internacional del Coso and were taken on immediately. Maria Antonia, the owner, had been a handsome woman in her youth; now, however, in her fifties, her face had the pallor of soured milk, the texture of a Babylonian parchment and her rouged mouth was as puckered as her soul was vinegary.

Even so, and in spite of appearances, she had a good heart.

Her ‘boyfriend’, it turned out, was none other than Zaragoza’s villainous police chief, González Luna, who insisted she sack us when he found out we were anarchists, terrifying her with demonic stories about the dangers of employing anarcho-syndicalists.

After a week or so of listening to his relentless whingeing, she was on the point of giving in to him when, fortunately, her two young daughters intervened on our behalf and talked her round. They told their mother we were the best waiters they had ever had. The girls obviously had plans for us, and it wasn’t serving on tables that was on their minds — more being served on tables!

Much of our free time was taken up helping to organise the defence case of the three comrades of the Justicieros group charged with the attempted murder of the ultra right-wing Zaragozan businessman and Integrist José Hilario Bernal, managing director of Quimica SA. However, with Eduardo Barriobero heading their defence team, the CNT had the best labour lawyers from Barcelona and Madrid on their case.

Barriobero was a real operator and an invaluable advisor on how to handle the massive legal and illegal government assault on the CNT. He suggested that the Defence Committee should organise street demonstrations and an Aragón-wide general strike to coincide with the trial. The local CNT leaders, however, weren’t enthusiastic about this strategy, arguing that with the unions still outlawed the workers might ignore the strike call.

It was a dilemma: if the workers came out on strike, the triumph would be total, both for the CNT and the accused; if unsuccessful it could seriously undermine the CNT’s credibility and give the authorities a freer hand to enforce even harsher repression.

Buenaventura Durruti, speaking with his anarchist fedora on — as opposed to his CNT boina —conceded the possibility that the strike might not succeed, but the problem could be got around if it were the anarchist groups who issued the call for a solidarity strike, as opposed to the CNT. So, if things went wrong, the CNT could blame the anarchists for their ‘adventurism’. If the strike proved successful, 148

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however, it would be an undeniable triumph for the Confederation, which would have shown both strength and leadership. The plan was accepted.

‘Government policies will change once Sánchez Guerra has his feet firmly under the government table,’ explained Barriobero — who still retained remarkably high expectations of liberal politicians — ‘and when constitutional guarantees are restored, the CNT and other opposition groups will be legalised. But if that process collapses before it has had time to take effect and the accused are convicted, they won’t stand a chance — in spite of the current political truce.

‘Have no doubt. If the compañeros are convicted they will be behind bars for a very long time indeed. So, if we are to secure their release, the best defence we have is for the people of Zaragoza to come out onto the streets and proclaim their innocence, as loudly and as noisily as possible. Only popular pressure will swing things in our favour.’

The date for the trial of Manuel Sancho, Clemente Mangado and Albadetrecu — the three Justicieros accused of the attempted murder of the ‘diehard’ Zaragozan integrista, José Hilario Bernal —was set for 20 April.

The day before the trial we fly-posted Zaragoza with calls for a general strike and announced protest meetings to be held next day outside the prison and the court.

Worried about an insurrectionary situation developing, the authorities called out the Guardia Civil to prevent the seizure of Zaragoza’s key civic buildings and the red-and-black flag being raised over the town hall — and to make sure we didn’t gain access to any of the streets in the vicinity of the court and the jail. But of course we did get through, and about a dozen were wounded in the process, but there were no serious casualties.

The strike was almost total across Aragón, with the exception of the Zaragoza Tram Company, an enterprise notorious for employing scabs and pistoleros as conductors and drivers on their vehicles, which had to be escorted by mounted Guardia Civil and police officers riding shotgun.

From six o’clock in the morning the city shook with the sound of explosions — either small bombs or large fireworks — and the occasional crackle of what might have been small-arms fire. The cacophony continued until eight o’clock when the prisoners and their escorts emerged from the prison gates to be marched through the streets, in chains, to the courtroom. Noisy and enthusiastic well-wishers accompanied the three anarchists, singing revolutionary songs and 149

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shouting their support for the prisoners and the CNT. The police and Guardia Civil fired into the air in an attempt to disperse the crowd, but to no effect. The crowd was in no mood to be intimidated.

Inside the courtroom the atmosphere was strained, and when the door from the holding cells opened and the compañeros shuffled into court in leg-shackles and handcuffs, everyone in the public gallery stood up and cheered wildly, giving it laldy with loud Vivas! When the judge entered, the cheering gave way to boos, much to his irritation, and he threatened to clear the court.

After the prosecutor finished outlining the state’s case against the three anarchists, Eduardo Barriobero opened for the defence. He could hardly be heard for the noise from the crowds outside in the street.

‘Proof of innocence for my clients? That is not for me to provide.

Listen to the clamour of the people in the streets outside. That is the sound of the people of Zaragoza proclaiming my clients’ indisputable innocence!’

José Hilario Bernal, the victim and the only prosecution witness, was the first into the stand, but, when asked by the prosecutor to identify his attackers in the dock, he stunned the court by saying he didn’t recognise any of the accused.

Perhaps this was hardly surprising, given the popular mood in Zaragoza and the strength of public support for the prisoners. Even so it came as a shock to everyone. His statement was met with a disbelieving silence, followed by an audible gasp of disbelief, then enormous smiles from the three men in the dock and their defence team and cheers and laughter from the public gallery. Bernal’s identification was the only evidence the prosecution had against the three men, so the judge no choice but to order the prisoners’ immediate release. As they filed out of the courtroom they were seized and carried shoulder-high by a jubilant crowd to noisy cries of ‘Viva la anarquia!’ and a ringing chorus of Hijos del Pueblo, the anarchosyndicalist anthem.

The long-awaited regional committee meeting to discuss the union’s new national strategy took place in Zaragoza that June.(1) Chaired by Joan Peiró, the CNT’s recently appointed National Secretary, the Zaragoza conference — which turned out to be the largest CNT gathering between 1919 and 1936 — still had to resolve the as-yetundecided and vexed issue of the CNT’s affiliation to the Leninist Third International.

Since 1920, the CNT’s pro-Bolshevik cabal of Marxist-syndicalists, 150

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led by Andrés Nin, Joaquin Maurín and Hilario Arlandis — had taken advantage of the fact that all the leading anarcho-syndicalists were in jail and, until the previous February, they had controlled the National Committee.

Maurín, now in jail, had abused his position by failing to publish Ángel Pestaña’s damning report on the Bolshevik dictatorship and the atrocities and injustices committed by the Bolsheviks to secure their hold on power.

Pestaña’s report left no doubt as to the extent of the persecution of anarchists and other non-Bolshevik revolutionaries in Russia, particularly in regard to the brutal suppression of the Kronstadt sailors and the Ukrainian Makhnovischina —but it had never been published or debated by rank-and-file delegates at this level. In the year they controlled the CNT National Committee, the pro-Bolsheviks relentlessly pursued their pro-Moscow agenda, maintaining and developing close personal links with Lenin’s Third International and the Profintern, the pro-Soviet Red International of Labour Unions.

The lull in governmental repression meant that most of the formerly imprisoned CNT militants were free to attend the Zaragoza meeting, but because the union was still technically an illegal organisation the national meeting had had to be held, if not in secret, then at least discreetly, something impossible in Madrid and Barcelona.

Zaragoza was chosen as the venue because it was a city in which the CNT carried considerable weight. The organisation of the congress was entrusted to Manuel Buenacasa, secretary of the Aragón, Rioja and Navarra regional committee, and to Gaston Leval, the French anarchist exile who had gone to Moscow with Nin, et al, as an observer.

Buenacasa approached the governor of Zaragoza under the assumed name of Juan Beranza to ask his permission to hold a labour meeting — which was granted without further enquiries. The subterfuge, however, was a farce; the governor knew exactly who Buenacasa was and what the meeting was about, having been briefed by the Special Brigade police officer responsible for monitoring public meetings. His main concern, however, was to avoid unnecessary confrontations, and at that moment in time he had no wish to take on the CNT, which had proved its strength in the general strike on the day of the Bernal trial. Had he denied permission for the conference to proceed, the union would have called another strike, which would have paralysed the entire region indefinitely.

The conference, held on 11 June, was pivotal. After a delay of more than a year, Pestaña could now present his report detailing his experiences in Russia, and explain his disillusionment with the Leninist 151

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International, and how he had withdrawn his signature from the Profintern’s founding document once he realised the extent to which it conflicted with the Confederation’s libertarian principles.

Pestaña received a standing ovation, while angry delegates booed Arlandis (the Marxist-syndicalist) off the stage when he argued the pro-Bolshevik case that the CNT needed to ‘maintain close relations with the world’s proletariat’. The Profintern, the Red International of Labour Unions, he insisted, was not subordinate to the Comintern, so the CNT should retain its membership. Arlandis, incidentally, had been a member of the Spanish Communist Party almost since its formation — and certainly prior to going to Russia.

Conference delegates also censured Nin, Maurín and Arlandis for compromising the Organisation and abusing its confidence by taking advantage of the union’s clandestinity for their own sectarian ends.

After much debate, a motion was carried —overwhelmingly and definitively — cutting the CNT’s ties with the Bolshevik labour union international. Delegates voted instead to affiliate with the recentlyfounded, Berlin-based anarcho-syndicalist International Workingmen’s Association, the AIT(2), the successor to the original First International, which had existed prior to the rift between the Marxists and the anarchists in 1872. Its recent re-formation had been the creation, mainly, of the German anarchist Rudolf Rocker and the Spanish anarchist Valeriano Orobón Fernández, better known as the lyricist of A las barricadas!

During the course of the Congress it became clear that in addition to Segui, Pestaña too had shifted, ideologically, over the previous eighteen months, each in their own way. If not a pacifist, Pestaña was pretty close to it and was arguing against all forms of armed direct action. When the subject of dealing with the pistoleros came up, he didn’t pull his punches, openly condemning all forms of violence —including defensive and pre-emptive actions. His argument hinged entirely on the dangers of descending to the same moral low ground as the pistoleros, and being sucked into a downward spiral of crime and counter-terror — Talion Law, or retaliation. It was an impassioned speech and was seen as a direct attack on the Defence Committee and the affinity groups.

‘No,’ he said. ‘We must not kill or engage in self-serving crime in the name of our ideas and our principles. I reject violence, absolutely, when it involves shedding blood. Syndicalists should act within the law — as long as the law respects the rights of the individual, and certainly within the laws of morality.’ The problem was, of course, that neither the law nor the employers respected the workers as individuals 152

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or even recognised that we had rights, and so the killings by Libres and pistoleros of the new Captain of Murderers on the scene, Pedro Homs, continued unabated.

The Zaragoza conference went well, apart from one dramatic interruption. Someone, probably the Conde de Coello, complained to Madrid that an illegal CNT congress was taking place in the city, under the governor’s nose, and with his apparent complicity. The interior minister in Madrid telegraphed the governor, ordering him to send in troops and police to arrest the leaders and close the conference.

However, when the forces of ‘law and order’ arrived at the theatre entrance, mob-handed as it were, they were met by the solitary and almost heroic figure of Victoriano Gracia, a highly-regarded Aragónese militant, who stood at the entrance to the theatre, like Horatio at the gates of Rome, obstinately refusing to let them pass.

Gracia sent a note to the governor, by cyclist, informing him that he was playing with fire, pointing out — as had Buenacasa earlier — that the regional committee he represented had half-a-million members, and that should the police or the army attempt to close the meeting he would face an immediate, region-wide general strike — perhaps even a ‘declaration of Libertarian Communism’ — CNT shorthand for insurrection.

The governor, a pragmatic man, ordered the police and army to withdraw, leaving the assembly to carry on until its business was concluded. The Congress’s last act was to confirm Salvador Segui as secretary-general of the CNT; then — rubbing coarse salt into the governor’s wounded dignity — the cenetistas proceeded to hold an enormous public meeting in the Plaça de Toros.

Things went reasonably well for the remainder of that summer.

Another of our little victories was the acquittal of Francisco Ascaso.

After a massive protest campaign, with nationwide demonstrations, direct actions and an investigation by Solidaridad Obrera journalists, we proved that Ascaso had in fact been framed by local police chief Don Pedro Aparicio.

Ascaso’s acquittal and the subsequent exposé of Aparicio made him and his family a target for the pistoleros, so he decided to move to Barcelona to join his brother Andrés. Before leaving, however, Ascaso attended a meeting of the Justicieros group at the Zaragoza Metalworkers’ hall about the Russian Revolution. It’s funny how things work out, often the result of sheer coincidence, because it was at this meeting that what became the core of the later-renowned Nosotros group —Ascaso and Durruti — met for the first time.

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Poina, who organised the debate, was a great supporter of Lenin and was convinced of the need for a Bolshevik-style revolutionary vanguard party in Spain. Anarchists, he claimed, should be professional revolutionaries, like the Bolsheviks, provoking and leading insurrections. This wasn’t a particularly unusual view within the anarchist movement at the time because, in spite of everything that had happened in Russia since the October Revolution, Lenin and Trotsky still had many admirers, including reluctant ones.

Durruti refused to accept this, however, and was totally opposed to the idea of the ‘vanguard party’ and ‘professional’ revolutionaries. In his view — one shared by me and most of the Justicieros — a genuine social revolution could only be initiated and sustained by a popular movement, not by parties or elites. If anarchists were to influence the process, he argued, it could only be because of their radical ideas — through example and in their role as facilitators.

‘If professional revolutionaries intervene not only will it hinder and limit the development of working-class consciousness, it will also subvert and distort its maturing politicisation. It would be a betrayal of the class struggle to distance ourselves, as a movement, from the working class, under the pretext of serving it better,’ Durruti argued, ‘and could only lead to bureaucratisation and new forms of control.’

Durruti also described the ‘improving’ idea of introducing union administrators into the CNT structure as the germ of a new bureaucracy.

‘Absolutely not,’ he said. ‘“The leadership” has to be be controlled by the rank-and-file.’

Durruti’s arguments and forceful personality during that meeting had such an effect on Francisco Ascaso that from that night onwards the two men became inseparable companions. Their friendship seemed an unlikely one. Ascaso, with his suspicious, darting eyes, was small, thin, nervous, mistrustful, coldly rational and icily calculating — unlikeable almost. Durruti, on the other hand — tall, powerfully built and relaxed — radiated confidence, empathy, charisma, and generated unbounded trust, enthusiasm and optimism among those who knew him.

After the meeting, a group of us went for a drink in the backroom of a nearby bar; everyone present — myself, Laureano, García Oliver, Durruti, Ascaso, Torres Escartín, Gregorio Suberviela and Marcelino del Campo — was known to at least one other that evening, and before the night was over it was clear we had formed the kernel of a new group, one with a powerful rapport, a remarkable degree of trust —and unbounded idealism, enthusiasm and optimism. We were the generation that would tear down the gates of Heaven and change the world. What 154

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united us were a shared ‘idea’, enthusiasm, and an absolute belief that direct action was the only way to topple the corrupt, oppressive and murderous regime headed by Alfonso XIII. In terms of ‘ideas’, our immediate priority was halting the drift towards the bolshevisation of the CNT. With each passing day the revolutionary ‘successes’ of the Russian Revolution were turning to dust; now we were more concerned about its poisonous excesses.

It’s difficult, fifty-five years on, to understand the extent to which the Russian Revolution divided the movement and the tens of thousands of people who invested so much faith in it. To an extent it hollowed out the movement. Those who supported Stalinism became heartless and those who saw this happen became disheartened and turned to reformism.

In Barcelona the situation remained serious. Membership of Ramón Sales’s Sindicatos Libres, the confederation of ‘yellow’ employer-backed unions, now exceeded 130,000 — and was rising. Sales’s sponsors in Barcelona’s military-industrial, Carlist-Catholic integrist complex had plans for the Libres: to crush and replace the CNT with compliant, employer-friendly, Catholic-sponsored corporate unions.

Ironically, the employers’ plan turned into a Frankenstinian narrative as the Libres increasingly distanced itself from its reactionary patrons to pursue an independent agenda —with considerable success.

The Libres was now functioning as a genuine union confederation, making real demands of the bosses; it even supported the CNT miners of Figols during a local strike.

Domingo Ascaso wrote to his cousin, Francisco, describing the ominous calm that had settled over the city, advising him to remain in Zaragoza until the situation in Barcelona had settled down: ‘The CNT’s “leaders” have allowed themselves to be “taken in” by this apparent sense of tranquility,’ he wrote, ‘but not the anarchist groups. Another wave of anti-union repression is expected at any moment, and the coming struggle — in which many comrades will fall — will be unavoidable and decisive.’

Domingo Ascaso was referring to the fact that since the assassination of Barcelona police chief Bravo Portillo, and the emergence of Pedro Homs as the new pistolero captain, the cycle of state-sponsored terror and murder had entered a new and more bloody stage.

Despite strong opposition from the Madrid government — who feared the dangerous path the Catalan oligarchs were treading — General Martínez Anido had become increasingly dependent on Pedro 155

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Homs, whose terror network he was using to wage his obsessive, brutal and remorseless proxy war against the re-invigorated anarchosyndicalist movement.

The CNT Regional Committee, suspecting that Homs was playing a double game, had long since removed him from their list of approved defence lawyers, and was advising union members and branches against using his services. But with no solid proof as to his duplicity — or even his criminality — there was nothing they could say publicly. Now, with Martínez Anido’s endorsement, Homs was openly offering his services as ‘enforcer’ to patronal employers who could no longer rely on the Libres or its gunmen to defend their class interests.

Homs’s wife — ‘La Pagesa’, a real-life Lady Macbeth — was a full and equal partner in the pistoleros operation, and was perhaps more vicious and vindictive than her husband. The pair not only targeted anarcho-syndicalists, they murdered anyone their paymasters told them to kill, including recalcitrant policemen.

Homs’s gang, for example — which operated out of the Bar L’Esquerrade L’Eixample in the carrrer Aribau —was responsible for an unsuccessful assassination attempt on the police inspector Honorio Inglés outside the Horta police station.

Years later, in Paris, the would-be assassin, one of Homs’s top gunmen, Ramírez ‘El Pamplonés’, confessed to Inglés that it was he who he had shot him, on the orders of his own boss, General Arleguí. Inglés claimed that the reason the police commissioner ordered the hit was because, in a fit of conscience — a highly unlikely scenario —he had blown the whistle on a provocation that would have led to a number of compañeros being murdered.

Arleguí visited Inglés in hospital after the attack and bluntly told him that he was the architect of his own misfortune because he hadn’t ‘played the game’. It’s difficult to know what to believe with regard to Inglés, a man who said more than his prayers and never before had a conscience to prick. Nor was he one to seek to occupy the ethical high ground; he was, after all, one of the main facilitators of the state- and employer-sponsored terror networks of the time.

Collecting dues — the union’s only source of revenue — was the riskiest job in Barcelona. Not only did the union have to find the money for its administrative overheads, which were minimal, but it also had to fund Solidaridad Obrera and support the prisoners, their families and compañeros on the run from the police.

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Workers were paid on Saturdays. Collectors waited outside the factory gates at the end of each shift to collect membership dues and stamp union cards. The pistoleros and police knew the union was dependant on this income and targeted the collectors, beating them up and robbing them on their way home or back to the union offices. As an illegal organisation we could hardly complain to the police about the robberies —not that we would have, anyway —so we dealt with the situation as best we could, but it wasn’t long before union funds began to dry up.

It was a serious problem. The most poetic and elegant solution was to do to the bosses and the state what they were doing to us and rob them! Sauce for the goose should be sauce for the gander!

The first ‘expropriation’ of this sort I was involved in was at the tax office next to the captain general’s office, in the carrrer Regomira, a long narrow street that led down to the Columbus Boulevard. One afternoon, five of us filed into the tax office with Stars in our hands and our faces masked with red and black bandanas. The employees were taken by surprise and we left with a haul of 200,000 pesetas, without a shot being fired. It was so easy it had to be repeated.

Laureano, who was still working on the railways, proposed a train robbery —one much closer to home than the Jaca action the year before. The plan was to rob the train carrying the MZA (MadridZaragoza) rail company wages at the Poble Nou station on its way from the Estacio de Francia to the San Andreu workshops. According to Laureano and Marcelino da Silva, another compañero who worked for MZA, the entire San Andreu payroll was transported by train every Saturday morning in the van, accompanied by only two guards.

The operation was well planned, up to a point anyway. Neither Laureano nor I was directly involved in this action, but we helped out in the early stages by travelling the route twice and reporting back to Victor Queró, a friend of Archs who was responsible for the plan.

Queró was a leading figure in a railway workers’ anarchist group that met in a cafe in the fisherman’s quarter of Barceloneta. The others were Ramón Recasens, Antonio Jímenez (‘El Señorito’), Manuel Ramos, Francisco Cunyat and José Francés.

The Poble Nou train — which carried its workers on open wagons — was obliged to halt at a level crossing on the carrrer de Taulat, close to the Campo de la Bota artillery barracks, where it switched points onto another track. This crossing, in a quiet backwater, was the ideal spot to hold up the train. It was close to the Carretera de Francia where Manuel Ramós would be waiting to drive everyone back to Barcelona along the coast road. A last minute problem with the 157

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car, however, meant that Ramós ended up hiring a taxi then putting a gun to the driver’s head when they reached their destination.

As the train squeeled to a halt at the level crossing, Queró climbed down from his wagon and ran along the track to immobilise the locomotive while Francisco Cunyat threatened the crossing keeper with his Star to prevent him changing the points and raising the alarm.

Ramón Recasens, meanwhile, ran to the guard’s van and ordered the two guards to throw down the strongbox containing the payroll.

One of the guards, Francisco Español, didn’t resist and raised his hands, but his colleague, Josep Mallofre, decided to have a go and drew his pistol. Recasens didn’t hesitate and shot him dead. On hearing the gunfire, Josep Francés, who was keeping an eye on the men on the open wagons, fired a number of rounds into the air to prevent the workers jumping off and joining in the fray, but unfortunately a couple of the bullets ricocheted and wounded two of the labourers, one of whom died soon after.

Things went from bad to worse. Hearing the shots, the duty sentry at the Campo de la Bota army base thought at first that he was being fired on from the nearby train, then realised it was the train itself that was under attack. Raising his rifle he shot and wounded one of the two men he saw running from the scene carrying a box between them.

The wounded man was Ramón Recasens, who dropped the strongbox and fell to the ground. Antonio Jímenez and José Frances ran to help their fallen comrade and get him and the money to the safety of the waiting taxi. Queró, in the meantime, was engaged in a firefight with the sentry, but with only a Star the distance was too great — but not for the sentry’s rifle. As Queró stepped out from behind the cover of the locomotive to blaze away with his small automatic a bullet passed through his carotid artery, mortally wounding him.

The compañeros, meanwhile, bundled the badly wounded Recasens into the waiting taxi, with the strongbox, and ordered the driver to to put his foot down and drive back to Barcelona. All the unfortunate taxi driver could think about was the mess in which he found himself — through no fault of his own.

Driving through San Andrés the taxi pulled up at a set of traffic lights where an observant Guardia Civil captain noticed bullet holes in the car’s bodywork and fresh blood on the running board, but before he could react the car drove off at high speed. This sighting gave the police their first lead.

Unable to take the injured Recasens to a hospital where his gunshot wounds would have attracted police attention, the comrades drove him to a street in the Fifth District close to his partner’s 158

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apartment in the carrrer Botella where they got out, thrust a wad of pesetas into the taxi drivers’ hand and sent him on his way.

Carrying the injured Recasens between them they manoeuvred him to Maria Camaresa’s flat nearby where she stemmed the bleeding until a neighbour and a comrade, Segimon Solà, a practice nurse, was able to give the wounded man proper medical attention. The bullet hadn’t hit any major organs so he wasn’t in any serious danger. Solà assured him he would be back on his feet in a matter of days. After a few hours rest Recasens left the apartment with his partner and moved to a room he had rented above Francisco Penas’ bar in the Carrer de Rierta, where he planned to hide out until the hubbub had died down.

With Recasens attended to, Cunyat and Jímenez took the proceeds, as agreed, to the home of Francisco Verdú, the president of the ateneo el adelantado obrero, where CNT committee representative Carlos Angles — our ‘appropriate’ independent witness when the money was counted out — was waiting for them. Verdú’s apartment was open house to all comrades. Verdú himself wasn’t at home, but his pregnant partner Adela Zamora — who knew the men well — welcomed them and left them in the dining room to do their business while she prepared the evening meal in the kitchen.

When the money was counted and stacked on the dining room table it was much more that they had imagined —140,000 pesetas, an enormous amount in those days. Angles handed over the full amount to Francisco Arín, secretary of Barcelona prisoners’ aid committee — without anyone involved taking a single peseta for themselves.

News of the audacious robbery impressed everyone in Barcelona, including Verdú who suspected that it was the work of compañeros, but he didn’t know that the proceeds had been divvied up in his own front room, so on returning home from work that evening he had a shock when Adela told him what had happened.

He also discovered that they had left the strongbox in his flat, a piece of highly incriminating evidence that had to be disposed of, which he did by breaking it up and giving it to a rag and bone merchant.

The taxi-driver, meanwhile, had been arrested, and from his statement the Special Brigade identified Recasens, the only member of the group with a police record, but he having gone to ground they had no idea where to find him.

It wasn’t long before the police began making arrests. José Francés was the first to be picked up, then Francisco Verdú, Segimon Solà (the practice nurse), Marcelino da Silva and Francisco Penas, the owner of the bar in the carrrer Rierta where Recasens had been hiding.

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Recasens’s girlfriend, who had her wits about her, discovered that the police knew about the flat above the bar and managed to get him out moments before they arrived. From there he moved to the apartment of another compañero, Bustamente, in the carrrer Vic in Gracia.

The police soon learned about that hideout, but Ramon Arín of the Defence Committee had advance warning of the raid and again managed to get Recasens out before the police raid. Arín gave him 15,000 pesetas from the Defence Committee and arranged for him to be smuggled into France with new identity papers provided by Laureano. The police never recovered the money and the case was filed as unsolved.

Ramón Recasens disappeared from view after that. Years later we learned that he had been involved with the rump of the Bonnot gang and had been guillotined in Bordeaux for a bungled robbery in which someone was killed.

Confusing ends and means was a serious danger for anyone involved in the action groups. The process of funding political and social activities through criminal actions proved, for many —even for those with the ‘highest and purest’ of motives — to be ultimately corrupting and self-defeating. It was the pinnacle of a steep and slippery slope that often led to venal and self-serving criminality.

It took me some time to recognise this fact. I was, after all, a highly idealistic twenty-two-year-old young man blundering along on an adrenalin high, searching for a role in life, carried away by the excitement of deeds of ‘derring-do’, although I have to admit that I did feel ambivalent about what we were doing.

Our motives were ‘altruistic’ inasmuch as none of us stole for personal financial gain;. We did what we did in a just cause and out of a desire to benefit humanity by supporting our unions and all the helpless victims of a hopelessly reactionary and unjust regime with no financial resources.

It was somewhat disconcerting and demoralising then for me when I saw the ease with which some of the apparently highestminded comrades took to crime. Although I must admit that at the time I kept my thoughts to myself. My view was that it reflected some flaw in their character, a lack of a firm moral and ideological base that somehow triggered the cancer of dark, personal ambition.

I had a sneaking suspicion it might even have had something to do with their inability to shake off their Catholic upbringing, and the idea they could be absolved of their sins, unlike my own solid Presbyterian-atheist culture. No one would absolve me of my sins, or 160

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my crimes. Whatever the reason, characters like Recasens eventually stopped working for the common cause and slipped seamlessly into pure, full-time criminality — under the mask of anarchism — for personal gain. On the other hand, my perception was that there were others who became deeply involved in ‘criminality’ or ‘illegality’, such as Durruti and Francisco Ascaso who, to me, retained an absolute ethical and moral integrity throughout their lives.

This problem isn’t one that’s unique to anarchists, nor does it reflect negatively on the nature of anarchism. It is —and always will be —part of the natural human condition. No one blames capitalism or bourgeois morality when a crooked investment banker, lawyer, civil servant, accountant or businessman runs off with a client’s money or public funds. From my own ethical standpoint, although I never felt comfortable about ‘expropriations’ and was always slightly on the defensive, I could at least reassure myself that the money we stole was ‘redistributed’ in support of the best of causes — the street kitchens, the pistoleros’ victims’ and prisoners’ families — and keeping the CNT and the wider anarchist press going.

So flushed were we with the success of the MZA train robbery that we were tempted to carry out another ‘expropriation’, the Saturday cattle market at the Plaça del Palau, where the big Catalan livestock traders did their deals. It wasn’t a normal cattle market; no beasts were present, apart from the traders themselves who bought and sold the livestock on the shake of a hand and a promise, with cash on the nail. Once business was out of the way, the traders would get together for a meal at the Fonda del Ferrocarril, a restaurant opposite the Estacio de Francia, close to the civil governor’s office.

Targeting the cattle dealers at this busy venue required a fair amount of audacity as the area was crawling with police, Guardia Civil and soldiers.

We struck just as the traders were downing their aperitifs and waiting for the primer plato. Filing into the dining room with our Stars on show, we locked the doors behind us and moved swiftly through the room, passing from table to table with open sacks, politely asking the diners for their ‘contributions’ for the victims of the lockout. Nobody said a word or offered any resistance apart from a few understandably sullen looks and mutters as the traders threw in their wallets or their old-fashioned drawstring purses full of silver and gold coins. It proved to be a substantial haul, and again all the money, about 200,000 pesetas, went to the lockout relief fund.

Early in August, the Manresa Workers’ Co-op, a CNT front, sought 161

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permission from the local town authorities to hold a public meeting on 25 August in the local Teatro Nuevo. The theme of the evening’s talk was ‘Soviet Russia and the Social Problem’ — with Ángel Pestaña as guest speaker. It was the first time the union leader had spoken in public in Barcelona province since Martinez Anido had come to power.

The authorities approved the meeting without hesitation, something that was suspicious in itself given that Pestaña regularly attacked the civil governor. A week earlier he had denounced Martínez Anido, the patronal and the Libres during a speech at a demonstration in Zaragoza, the first in the city since the restoration of civil liberties.

It was too good an opportunity for Pestaña’s enemies to miss. For the first time they knew in advance where and when to find him.

Although the assassination attempt was organised by the local Libres organisations in Manresa and Berga, to make doubly sure of their success they brought in three experienced killers from Barcelona —Andreu Hortet, Ramón Ródenas and the ubiquitous Carlos Baldrich.

The CNT Defence Committee got wind of these plans, however, through its own network of informers and advised Pestaña not to attend, a warning he chose to disregard. One reason he may have insisted on going was because of heavy criticism from younger militants about his move to Tarragona during the worst period of the repression. He may simply have wanted to prove he wasn’t a coward.

One concession he did make for his safety, however, was not to travel directly to Manresa by train, but through Sabadell, by car, where he picked up his old friend Bru Llado —‘Irn Bru’ I nicknamed him — who accompanied him the rest of the way.

The Libres’s plan was to shoot Pestaña as he emerged from Manresa railway station, where their killers were placed at strategic locations. When he failed to arrive on the Barcelona train they spread out around the town to search for him.

Pestaña arrived in Manresa about 7:00 in the evening and was met by Ramón Espinalt, the secretary of the local, clandestine, CNT committee, and other comrades who urged him to go directly to the theatre where he would be safe. However, this being his first time in Manresa and with an hour or so to spare before the meeting, Pestaña wanted to explore the town and get some fresh air after the long road trip. Aware of the dangers, the local compañeros insisted on accompanying him.

Crossing the Cardoner Bridge, the union leader and the other comrades stopped to admire the view from the parapet. So deeply engrossed were they in conversation that they failed to notice they had been overtaken from behind by a group of Libres gunmen who 162

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had recognised their man. One of them, later identified as Isidre Vinyals, approached the union leader.

‘You’re Pestaña, aren’t you?’ he asked ‘You’re the very man I’m looking for!’ Pulling an automatic from his waistband, and without hesitation, he shot Pestaña twice, in the chest, at point blank range.

Pestaña’s friends, who were unarmed and taken aback by the unexpected attack, recovered quickly from their shock and, with the help of a couple of passing soldiers, chased off the gunmen while a practice nurse among the group administered first aid to the wounded man until the ambulance arrived. If the nurse hadn’t been there that day Pestaña would have died on the Cardoner Bridge.

Isidre Vinyals’s colleagues that evening were later identified as Juan de la Manta (also known as Juan Plandevila Cucurul), Vilajoan, Baldrich, Ramón Ródenas and Rabada, Francisco Villena’s brother, the former cenetista from Manresa who had defected to the Libres. So confident were they that they were untouchable and wouldn’t be arrested, that they had made no attempt to disguise themselves.

The fact that Hortet, Ródenas and Baldrich were involved indicated that Homs was behind it, probably with the full backing of a frustrated and angry General Martínez Anido who was now fighting for his political life. Over the summer his standing with the Catalan oligarchs and the Madrid government of Sánchez Guerra had collapsed as a result of his inability to control the unions and roll back the social unrest and street violence. To restore his credibility and reputation he needed Pestaña dead.

The attempt on Pestaña caused an uproar in Manresa. Fearing that a street war would erupt in the town, the authorities tried, unsuccessfully, to halt the meeting, which had gone ahead without Pestaña. The shooting also triggered a political furore in Madrid.

Pestaña wasn’t just any militant or a ‘terrorist’, but a highly respected union spokesman who was widely perceived as ‘a moderating influence’ within the CNT and who had friends and acquaintances in all walks of life. Within hours of the news, calls were coming into the hospital from all over Spain.

Prime Minister Sánchez Guerra had enough problems of his own without being made to appear complicit in Pestaña’s attempted murder. He immediately telephoned Martínez Anido to insist that he put a police guard by the union spokesman’s bedside. But he didn’t trust Anido and to make sure the civil governor ‘got the message’ he rang him twice a day after that to ‘inquire’ after Pestaña’s progress.

The Director General of Security in Madrid, Millan de Prego, also kept up the pressure on General Arleguí to ensure nothing further 163

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untoward happened to Pestaña.

Even so, the Manresa pistoleros were determined to finish off the union leader and repeated their attempt to kill him — this time disguised as doctors —in his hospital bed. But, with so much security around, the plan failed and two of the would-be killers were caught by nurses, doctors and porters and handed over to the police. Our wounded comrade eventually made a full recovery.

A hoist-with-his-own-petard type footnote to this story was that when Homs’s killer, Isidre Vinyals, and Ramón Ródenas were returning to Barcelona, by train, the latter’s pistol — which he had tucked into his trouser waistband — accidentally went off, shooting himself in the foot. Not wanting to have his wound attended to in hospital where it would have been reported to the police, he had it treated by a butcher friend, which resulted in gangrene setting in and led to him losing his leg. Adding insult to amputation, the two wouldbe assassins were badly beaten up and ostracised by their own Carlist colleagues for botching the Pestaña murder and for allowing themselves to be identified. You couldn’t make it up!

The attempt on Pestaña was soon traced back to Martínez Anido, and the day after the attack the Socialist Party MP Indalecio Prieto denounced Anido in parliament for his failure to eliminate pistolerismo — while at the same time hinting heavily as to his complicity in the attack. Gabriel Alomar, an investigative journalist, broke more on this in the Madrid press, which was picked up by other international, national and regional newspapers, creating great embarrassment for the government, and brought down a lot of unwelcome attention on both Anido and his police chief, General Arleguí.

Anido, who wasn’t known for his subtlety or sophistication, dug himself an even deeper grave by organising a simulated assassination attempt by ‘anarchists’ on his own life. It was a crazy, desperate, lastditch move to win sympathy, restore his flagging prestige and prove to his superiors that he did face genuine threat.

Durruti and Francisco Ascaso, now the closest of friends, decided it was time to move to Barcelona in pursuit of their idea of uniting all of Spain’s anarchist groups into one confederation, a project that was easier to launch from the Catalan capital than from Zaragoza. When the other Justicieros heard the news, they too were infected by the two friends’ enthusiasm and decided to accompany them.

And so, during the last week of August 1922, six young anarchists arrived in the Merchant City to start new lives: Francisco Ascaso, Marcelino del Campo, Buenaventura Durruti, Torres Escartín, 164

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Aurelio Fernández and Gregorio Suberviela.

Durruti and Ascaso moved into a flat in the carrrer de San Jerónimo in the Fifth District and, with introductions from Domingo Ascaso and friends and acquaintances who were carpenters and cabinetmakers, the café in the Woodworkers’ Union hall in the carrrer San Pablo became their main social and operational base.

Apart from the Aragónese Los Justicieros, the hall was a magnet for some of the most militant anarchists and anarcho-syndicalists in Barcelona, including those centred around the Catalan anarchist group, Crisól, whose prominent members included the waiter Juan Garcia Olíver, the metalworker Ricardo Sanz, Gregorio Jover Cortés, Eusebio Brau and the cabinet-maker Alfonso Miguel.

It was a cosmopolitan and dynamic bunch of people who met every week in the carrrer San Pablo café and in Durruti’s and Ascaso’s small apartment. Apart from the Aragóneses, namely Rafael Torres Escartín, Francisco and Alejandro Ascaso, there were Castilians such as Laureano Cerrada Santos, Levantines, Ricardo Sanz and Miguel García Vivancos, Leóneses Buenaventura Durruti, Antonio ‘El Toto’ and Marcelino Manuel Campo (Tomás Arrate), ‘Torinto’ — and Bargutia — a Basque. I was the only Govan man.

Whether it was the collective chemistry, the charisma of individual members, the quality of the debate, the shared ideals or the enthusiasm and optimism of the time and the place and the prospect of changing the world, I hesitate to say, but our meetings attracted more and more militants, far too many for our own good — around twenty in all.

To remain dynamic and effective, the ideal number for an affinity group-defence cadre such as ours would have been around half-adozen discreet, active militants, but we had become more like a federation of grouplets, and the membership simply kept on growing.

We allowed it to grow because we saw no reason not to, but within the larger unit a number of independent affinity groups did evolve from the different groups and nationalities around the Woodworkers’ hall.

And that was how the famous Los Solidarios affinity group — a fusion of Aragónese and Catalan activists — came into being. Mostly they were men, but a fair number of women were involved too, perhaps as many as a third. What united us was the ‘Idea’ we all shared — that, and our burning desire to bring down the shameful and iniquitous capitalist system. We also wanted to defend the anarchosyndicalist principles of the CNT against the insidious moves then afoot to turn it into a reformist trade union and yet another 165

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parliamentarian pressure group. Our aim was to set up a peninsulawide anarchist federation encompassing all the anarchist groups of both Spain and Portugal.

The first project that autumn was the launch of a fortnightly free anti-militarist broadsheet newspaper entitled Crisól. Francisco Ascaso was the publisher, while Felipe Alaiz, Liberto Callejas, Torres Tribo, an exiled French comrade by the name of Barthé, and with myself, as international correspondent, provided the editorial content. Crisól’s target readers were primarily the soldiers of the Barcelona garrison, whom we regularly called on to desert or, better still, rebel against their officers.

As in all groups, there were personality problems and differences of opinion. Not everyone saw eye to eye, not least in terms of theory and practice. Juan García Oliver, for example, a spokesman for what was known as the ‘anarcho-Bolshevik’ line — who belonged to the Crisól and Bandera Negra anarchist groups, the Barcelona Local Federation of Anarchist Groups, and the CNT’s Hotel Industry, Cafe and Cook’s Alliance, La Gastronómica — was, I felt, decidedly egotistical and authoritarian. I always felt uncomfortable in his presence.

Charismatic and forceful as a public speaker, García Oliver was constantly hectoring people to set up a revolutionary militia organised around a centrally controlled CNT to seize what he called ‘insurrectionary power’. He didn’t mean seizing state power, rather controlling the federated revolutionary committees and obliging them to uphold what he called ‘revolutionary order, defending freedom and popular initiatives’. How he proposed to do this by other than bureaucratic means escaped me, and in spite of all his later rhetoric about the groups, he certainly wasn’t a great supporter of retaliatory actions against the pistoleros and the patronal, which he described as ‘tragic theatre’ that cast the working class purely in the role of spectator. His big idea was to trigger the revolution by exemplary sponteneous actions that would oblige workers to become participants —but his explanation as to how exactly this could be done was vague and highly speculative.

To give him his due though, García Oliver had interesting and challenging ideas as to how the working-class could emancipate itself through direct action or forever be reduced to a form of more-or-less well-paid slavery. In other words, workers either grow accustomed to being treated — economically and politically — as an inferior class or they organise themselves into a union and practise direct action, the forms of which the workers have to determine for themselves. The 166

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problem, as I said, was that I didn’t find García Oliver particularly likeable; abrasive and egotistical, his opinions tended to be taken with a pinch of salt by many in the group, including Ascaso and Durruti.

With my facility for languages — I was fluent in Spanish and Catalan by this time — I spent much of my free time with ordinary nonpolitical Spaniards or Catalans. Most Saturday afternoons, when I wasn’t working at Soli or on Crisól!, or if Lara wasn’t around, I would jump on a train to Reus and wander off into the countryside with a loaf, a tin of sardines, a botijo of wine and a book, and climb to a vantage point on a sunny hillside where I’d settle down to read and think in some dappled grassy glade in the pine forest .

With Maestro Barba’s help, I had become an aficionado of classical music and regularly attended the monthly concerts held in Reus’s Fortuny Theatre; I even became a founding member of Associacio Catalana dels Amics de la Música. I remember Pablo Casals playing there once with his orchestra: ‘The Ninety Music Professors!’

Early one Saturday afternoon I was in the Soli offices preparing my international news column when Francisco Ascaso dropped by to ask me if I would join him in a vermouth. We went to the bar across the road and, when our drinks were served, he came straight to the point. He was putting together a group to target the remaining Libres pistoleros who had tried to kill Pestaña, and wanted to know if I would take part. Not knowing what to say and being unable to think of any good reason not to, I agreed. We arranged to meet at 4:30 that same afternoon at the Francia rail station.

Ascaso and another young lad, Juan Figueres, were waiting for me by the booking office with my ticket. There weren’t many passengers going to Manresa so the carriage was relatively empty.

After checking that no one could see us from the adjoining seats, Ascaso produced a Star automatic from each of his jacket pockets, one of which he gave to me and the other to Figueres.

We reached Manresa around 6:30 in the evening and stopped for a quick carajillo in the station bar before crossing the square towards the Café La Alhambra, the bar used by the local Libres. I had no real idea what was planned and was simply following Ascaso’s lead; he seemed to know what he was doing.

Halting for a moment inside the café doorway, Ascaso looked around, then turned to us and indicated a table at the back of the almost deserted room where a group of five men sat playing cards.

‘Those are our men,’ he whispered. ‘The one on the left is our main target — Eguia. He’s the local ‘Libres’ Secretary General and 167

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Treasurer. The man on his left, is Rabada. He was also involved in the Pestaña shooting.’

Our chairs scraped the floor as we stood up, pushed the table out of the way and rushed towards them. The Libres fumbled for their guns, but by this time we had our Stars out and were shooting. So were they. According to the next day’s newspapers we didn’t kill anyone, but we did wound all of them. I think I hit Rabada in the shoulder, but I couldn’t be sure; everything happened in a blur, and of course we had to make our escape quickly. The sound of gunfire would have brought the police and Guardia Civil within minutes.

Running through the kitchen and out the back door into the unlit rear alleyway we hurried through the back streets following Ascaso, who knew the town intimately, ending up in the apartment of a comrade of the Woodworkers’ Union with whom Ascaso had arranged to put us up for the night. We returned to Barcelona the following afternoon in the back of a furniture delivery van.

Back in Barcelona that Sunday evening there was a message from Pestaña, requesting a meeting as soon as possible. Although we were exhausted, physically and emotionally, Ascaso and I went straight to his Spartan-like apartment in the carrrer San Jerónimo, close to where Salvador Segui and Ascaso and Durruti were living.

‘I’m pleased you got back safely,’ he said embracing us affectionately. ‘Since they shot me, the Libres have been walking around Manresa like the cocks of the walk. I doubt they’ll be back now.’

This was a bit of a turn-around, I thought, from a man espousing pacifism and moderation a few weeks earlier.

‘Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about, Ángel?’ asked Ascaso abruptly. ‘We are really tired and need to get some sleep.’

‘Yes, it’s serious — and official. It’s from the National Committee — about the Defence Committee and the action groups. You know how easy it is to call meetings and adopt agreements; the problems begin when you try putting them into practice.

‘What we agreed on in Zaragoza in the summer about joining forces with the Socialists, Republicans and Freemasons is unworkable and impossible to implement. We can’t trust them, and neither Alejandro Lerroux nor Marcelino Domingo will risk compromising themselves, which leaves us with the second option — to go it alone!

But for that we need capable men and the necessary funds. We have plenty of the former, but none of the latter, and we’ll get nothing from Russia.

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‘Genaro Minguet has suggested that Los Solidarios might be able to resolve our problems. García Oliver has talked a lot about this, but we don’t have a great deal of confidence in his ability to put something like this together.’

‘We’re listening,’ said Ascaso, ‘and flattered, but could you be a bit more precise, please?’

‘The Executive of the National Committee, which currently consists of Salvador Segui, Joan Peiró, Camilo Piñon, Narciso Marco and myself, has agreed that we need reliable and trustworthy action group comrades, people such as yourselves, who are capable of carrying out two ajusticiamientos, as soon as possible.

‘The primary target is the Carlist pretender, Don Jaime, who is currently living in a small palace in the Rue Varenne in Paris. The other is Martínez Anido who is now enjoying his summer vacation in San Sebastian. Executing these two men will paralyse our enemies, especially the Jaimistas!’

‘Mmm, perhaps,’ said Ascaso, ‘but it would need some financing.’

‘The problem is we’re broke,’ continued Pestaña. ‘The coffers are empty, so we were hoping that somehow you would be able to find the resources yourselves.’

‘So what exactly is the National Committee offering?’

‘The Organisation will give Los Solidarios carte blanche to set up the appropriate action and collect the money wherever and however you can. No matter what happens, the Organisation will stand by you.’

There were a number of dissenting voices within the group, but the final consensus was that robbing banks and wages hold-ups was the only means available to us to finance both the defence committee and operations such as those we’d just been commissioned to carry out by the National Committee.

Those who disagreed with our illegalist actions argued —rightly, I now believe — that no matter how noble the intention, the process itself was ultimately corrupting and counter-productive. The means often became the end in itself, with innocent people and compañeros alike being killed, injured, imprisoned or forced into exile. It also debased the ideals of anarchism and allowed us to be more easily vilified and demonised by capitalist newspapers, the clergy and the politicians for whom the politics of smear and fear was their lifeblood.

They were right, but at the time we didn’t appreciate how insidious and inexorable the process would be. By the end of the year the defence cadres and the affinity groups in general, not just Los 169

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Solidarios, were robbing banks and snatching wages at a rate of three or four a month. Every single peseta we took, however, was used either for prisoners or for agitational-propaganda purposes, both by word and by deed.

A good example of how at least some of this money was used was the organisation of a clandestine Catalan-Balearic regional anarchist congress in Montjuic. This, in turn, led to the setting up of a Regional Commission for Anarchist Relations, the CRA, the embryo of which was to become, a few years later, in 1927, the Iberian Anarchist Federation, the FAI. The Commission’s role was to coordinate revolutionary plans and defensive measures throughout the peninsula, with the support of the anarchist press — Crisól!, Fragua Social and Tierra y Libertad. We were particularly concerned about the likelihood of a military coup.

Sympathisers in the barracks had informed us that a military coup — a pronunciamiento — along the lines of Benito Mussolini’s recent socalled ‘seizure of power’ in Rome, which in reality was no such thing, the Duce having been ‘invited’ to take power by the king and Italy’s industrialists — was actively being considered in Spain.

Mussolini’s Fascist movement and his March on Rome that October had had a powerful impact on the Spanish and Catalan oligarchs, who, following Alfonso XIII and his foreign minister’s example, were embracing fascism with open arms as a means of combating the CNT and the Bolsheviks. Hence our sense of urgency in accelerating the revolutionary process by launching a more dynamic agitational and propaganda campaign, in both the industrial and the rural areas.

Los Solidarios had three representatives on the CRA: Francisco Ascaso, the secretary general; Aurelio Fernández, anti-militarist committees coordinator; and Buenaventura Durruti, quartermaster general and organiser of the arms deposits.

Our anti-militarist strategy had undergone a serious rethink over the previous year. Prior to this, most compañeros would have refused to serve in the military and gone into hiding or exile. Now the feeling was that young militants should do their military service and form revolutionary action cells — anti-militarist committees — within the barracks, liaising with local anarchist groups and spreading revolutionary ideas among the soldiers. The committee had its own bulletin — Hijos del Pueblo! —which was edited by Ricardo Sanz and, like Crisól!, had a target readership of conscript soldiers.

Money from the expropriations paid for a clandestine machine shop and foundry in Hospitalet and allowed us to employ two 170

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experienced foundry-workers — Eusebio Brau and Blanco Amon — who set about casting and manufacturing our handgrenades. Within two months of getting the workshop up and running, we had stockpiled around 6,000 grenades, which Durruti distributed among various arms deposits between Barcelona and Bilbao.

Aurelio Fernández’s anti-militarist committees were also proving reasonably successful, winning over a fair number of corporals, sergeants and even junior officers. Before long anti-militarist committees were established in barracks across the length and breadth of Spain. Aurelio also maintained close contact with the autonomous regional commissions that Durruti had helped set up the previous year.

Heading the Los Solidarios hit list was Don Jaime de Borbón — heir to the throne and the iconic figurehead of the bigoted reactionary Carlists of the Traditionalist Communion. Carlist milicianos saw themselves as latter-day Knights Templar who rejected constitutional monarchy in favour of an earthly theocracy, a Christian Caliphate, under the guidance of warrior monks. Don Jaime was also an important figure in the hierarchy of the Hiéron du Val d’Or, the Europe-wide integrist Catholic organisation that was plotting to reestablish the Holy Roman Empire.

For a month, a team of three Solidarios kept Don Jaime’s Paris mansion under surveillance, but he didn’t appear. It appears the Spanish secret service warned him about the attempt and escorted him back to Spain where he was given sanctuary in Montserrat monastery, a Roman Catholic integrist stronghold where it was nigh on impossible for us to reach him.

Gabino Bagallal y Araujo, the minister of the interior to whom Generals Severiano Martínez Anido and Miguel Arlegui y Bayones were, theoretically, answerable, was another of our targets, but getting to him also proved too difficult.

Meanwhile Martínez Anido and Arlegui had received reports from infiltrated agents about the San Andrés de Llavaneras meeting, calling for the CNT and anarchists to form a clandestine revolutionary army capable of fighting a guerrilla war similar to that fought by the Irish Republican Army between 1919 and 1921.

It served both generals’ reactionary purposes to claim there really was a genuine threat of social revolution and national disintegration from a potentially apocalyptic internal situation. The problem was they had no evidence as to the numbers or identities of the activists involved, other than the fact they were ‘anarchists’. Here was the desperate situation requiring the desperate measure they had 171

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been preparing since the summer —a ‘false-flag’ assassination attempt which would be presented to the public and the Madrid government as the precursor to bloody revolution, and which would provide Martínez Anido and Arlegui with the opportunity to identify and eliminate all the anarchist action group militants in one swoop.

Chief Inspector Agapito Martín of the Special Brigade was Arlegui’s man responsible for the operation. Martín knew that to be successful and credible the operation had to be carried out by real anarchists, for which he required an experienced agent provocateur.

Pedro Homs advised him to use the services of the ubiquitous provocateur and informer Inocencio Feced, but Martín knew Feced of old and didn’t trust him. He also knew that few anarchists trusted him so he insisted on using his own infiltrators: Florentino Pellejero, whom Feced had introduced into his network as an anarcho-syndicalist comrade recently arrived from Russia via Bilbao, and Genaro Tejedor, a security service officer who had already successfully penetrated an anarchist group in Badalona, a small town 5 or 6 kilometres north of Barcelona. Tejedor had been involved with the anarchists there for nearly 18 months, since early in 1921.

It’s difficult to believe that with Feced’s questionable history he should have been admitted at all into the confidences of militants who really ought to have known better, but, like Father Gapon in the lead up to the events of ‘Bloody Sunday’ in St Petersburg in 1905, he was clearly a plausible penetration agent and was convincing in his role as a gung-ho revolutionary. Like all good snake oil charmers, it didn’t take him long to win the confidence of the Badalona compañeros.

Admittedly, winning their trust wasn’t particularly difficult.

Anarchists, for the most part, tend to be credulous, trusting and unsophisticated (ie, not given to sophistry) in their dealings with others claiming to share the Idea. Given the nature of anarchism, whose end is the destruction of domination and the creation of a society predicated on mutual trust and comradeship, it could never really be otherwise. Also, like good Christians, many also believe in the possibility of redemption and repentance, even for the most perfidious of known confidentes.

Feced was the driving force behind the ‘false-flag’ plot to assassinate Anido and Arlegui. To most working-class people in Catalonia —not just anarchists —it was a proposition that was neither unreasonable nor unattractive. Nor did the fact that it was Feced who suggested the plan ring warning bells with anyone. A convincing performer, especially with Pellejero’s and Tejedro’s enthusiastic support, it didn’t take him long to recruit around a dozen genuine 172

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anarchists from the groups with whom he was in contact.

Among these was Josep Claramunt, an elderly comrade who owned a small garage workshop in Castellón de la Plana, near Valencia, where he lived with his mother. When Feced proposed his plan to assassinate Martinez Anido, Claramunt immediately sold up his business and moved to Barcelona, with his motorbike — an ‘Indian’. The Badalona group also had access to a Fiat, registration number B-13.623.

At the same time as the Martínez Anido assassination plot was being prepared, compañeros in the Basque country pulled off a spectacular payroll robbery at the Constructora Naval, the largest dockyard in the region. Coming so soon after the Pueblo Nuevo train robbery it added to the wild press speculation that these attacks presaged the anarchists’ long expected nihilistic war against civilisation.

The first weeks of October saw at least seven more major statesponsored terrorist provocations. One of which was the murder of Jaume Rubinat, Salvador Segui’s first cousin, who was gunned down in front of his wife and daughter by a former compañero, Blas Marín, a cenetista who had transferred his allegiance to the Libres.

Claiming to have inside information on the civil governor’s diary, Feced organised the Martínez Anido operation for the evening of Saturday 14 October, 1922, when the civil governor was due to attend a gala performance at the El Dorado Theatre on the Plaça de Cataluña.

The governor was scheduled to leave the theatre around 1:00 in the morning, and return by way of the Ramblas, where the four compañeros —Josep Blanco, Alcodovar, Florentino Pellejero and Josep Claramunt — would be waiting, with a motorbike and sidecar, at the corner of the carrrer de Fernando, close to the entrance to the Plaça Real on the Rambla de Santa Monica. Across the road, waiting by the drinks kiosk by the carrrer de José Anselmo Clave, were Manuel Talens (aka ‘El Valencianet’), Josep Gardeys, Ramón Climent (aka ‘El Gabardina’) and Manuel Bermejo (aka ‘El Madriles’).

The plan was to follow Martinez Anido’s car, in the Fiat, from the Plaça de Catalunya as far as the carrrer de Fernando where it would overtake him and block his way. The compañeros on either side of the Rambla would then pin down the governor and his police escort in their crossfire. Feced’s role was to jump on the running board and deliver the coup de graçe through the car window. If the governor’s car drove off, Claramunt and Pellejero were to follow it on the motorbike and sidecar and finish the job. If all else failed, the 173

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comrades from Badalona were supposed to be waiting as backup at the bottom of the Ramblas, by the Paseo de Colón, which was on the governor’s route back to his apartment.

That was the plan.

On the Saturday afternoon in question, Feced, Tejedor, Pellejero and Claramunt checked out the route a couple of times. They weren’t due to meet the comrades from Badalona until 9:00 that evening when their train was scheduled to arrive at the Estación del Norte, the Northern Station.

After the recce, the Barcelona compañeros met up at the Café Español to finalise the details and distribute the guns and handgrenades that Manuel Talens had collected from Amalio Cerdeño.

Feced had been given the weapons at police headquarters. There wasn’t much the police could do about the guns and ammunition, as these would have have been automatically checked, but the grenades had no fuses and were packed with sawdust instead of explosive. The final rendezvous was fixed for 10:00 that evening at the Granja Royal in the carrrer Pelayo, on the corner of the Ramblas.

By 9:00 p.m., Feced was waiting for the five compañeros from Badalona in the La Campaña bar next to the Northern Station, but only three of them turned up. Two had decided to wait across the road, in the shadows, while the others met Feced inside. Minutes later, they saw ten police officers, led by Feced and Tejedor, emerge from the bar with their three comrades in handcuffs. Feced spoke briefly to Tejedor as the comrades were being bundled into police vans and then went to meet the others at the Granja Royal.

The comrades at the Granja Royal were concerned when they saw that Feced was on his own, but he reassured them that the Badalona comrades were already in position at the foot of the Ramblas. Everything appeared to be going according to plan.

Moving to their positions along the Rambla Santa Monica the cenetistas awaited the arrival of Anido’s car, unaware that their every move was being closely monitored by Special Brigade detectives in unmarked police cars parked close by. The tragedy was about to unfold.

Chief Inspector Agapito Martín, meanwhile, decided not to wait any longer. His men were nervous —anything could go wrong. There was also the danger that someone may have witnessed the earlier arrests at the Estación del Norte and the whole operation would backfire on them. It was too dangerous to wait so he ordered his men to move in immediately.

Genaro Tejedor was the first to be arrested, which alerted Josep 174

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Gardeys, who shouted a warning to the others as he opened fire. Josep Claramunt, meanwhile, was seated on his motorcycle chatting with Pellejero in the adjoining carrrer Nueva de San Francisco when he heard the shouts and the gunfire. Kick-starting his bike, thinking the attack had begun, he saw — out of the corner of his eye — his treacherous comrade, Pellejero, the secret policeman, raise his gun to shoot him. Pulling the trigger the policeman shot the Valenciano, wounding him slightly. The latter, however, quickly drew his own gun and, being a better or a luckier marksman, shot the false anarchosyndicalist dead.

In the meantime, the two surviving comrades from Badalona, who witnessed Feced’s treachery at the Bar La Campaña, had joined the others and were providing covering fire. Some good people were killed in the ensuing shootout, including El Gabardina, the ‘man in the grey mackintosh’, Adolfo Bermejo, El Madriles and Rafael Climent, but Claramunt, Manuel Talens, El Valencianet, although wounded, managed to escape through the labyrinthine backstreets of the Gothic Quarter.

This ‘false-flag’ assassination attempt was only the first part of Arleguí and Martínez Anido’s sinister plot. The purpose of the operation had been to identify and eliminate the militants ‘controlling’ the action groups, and to provide the justification for a ‘St Bartholomew Night’ massacre, targeting all known CNT and anarchist militants. But there were no leaders, so no matter how much Arleguí and his men tortured the anarchists in his custody there was little he could get from them. There was nothing to tell beyond that which he already knew.

Arleguí was convinced otherwise and ordered one of his trusted officers, Inspector Romero, to take three of the arrested compañeros from Badalona — Joan Manent, Guillem Martí and Vicens Soler — across town, on foot, with a police escort, to the morgue and interrogate them beside the corpse of his agent Florentino Pellejero.

The men had been tortured and beaten all evening by Arleguí and his men and were, naturally, deeply apprehensive, knowing they were about to be murdered at any moment.

Arleguí remained by the telephone, awaiting Inspector Romero’s call with the names of the militants, while across Barcelona squads of Special Brigade and pistolero killers waited in police stations ready to move against the militant core of CNT activists.

Arleguí’s first victim in the early hours of that October Sunday morning was Amalio Cerdeño, the comrade who had stored the guns and explosives used during the previous evening’s debacle. Cerdeño 175

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was a key witness who could have given the lie to the police account of events by testifying that the weapons were provided by a police agent provocateur.

Cerdeño was picked up at his home in the carrrer Serra Xic, in Gracia, in the early hours of the morning and told he was being taken to police headquarters for questioning. But, there was no police car waiting outside for them. The small group of police killers escorted him through the quiet streets as far as the deserted carrrer Espartería, at which point they pulled back a little and shouted ‘Halt!’ — then opened fire. When Cerdeño dropped to the wet cobblestones with four bullets in him, his police killers didn’t bother to deliver the coup de graçe, assuming he was dead, and hurried away from the scene.

Unfortunately for Anido and Arleguí, Cerdeño wasn’t dead. A couple of late night revellers, who witnessed the incident and saw the policemen running away, carried the wounded man to a nearby dispensary. The duty doctor attending him listened in amazement to the victim’s extraordinary story, then immediately telephoned his friend, the examining magistrate, Diego Medina, who rushed to the dispensary to take a sworn statement from the dying anarchist and from the witnesses. It confirmed what everyone knew had been happening in the city for years. Now there were independent witnesses who could provide irrefutable proof.

Although it was still only four o’clock in the morning, the magistrate, Medina, a well-connected socialist, immediately telephoned Madrid and spoke directly to the sleepy prime minister, Sánchez Guerra, explaining what had just happened in Barcelona.

‘Prime Minister, the governor and the chief of police of Barcelona are iaking workers from their homes and killing them. What do I do?’

Sánchez Guerra was already aware something was afoot in Barcelona. Earlier that evening he had spoken with Gabriel Alomar, an investigative journalist who had interviewed the two anarchist witnesses to Feced’s treachery the previous night. Alomar also told the prime minister that there had been an exceptionally large number of arrests in Barcelona the previous day and a number of these ‘suspects’ had already been shot dead attempting to escape lawful custody.

One of these victims, Ramón García, a cenetista, had escaped and, although badly wounded, gave a sworn statement to the magistrate.

Even the reactionary Lliga were up in arms about the extent and coldblooded brutality of the repression and published an angry editorial about the abuse of the ley de fugas and the case of Ramón García in their newspaper, La Veu de Catalunya.

Sánchez Guerra didn’t hesitate. It was the opportunity he’d been 176

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waiting for to sack Martínez Anido. It had been a long time coming, but the general had powerful protectors both in Catalonia and at court, particularly the king. At 4:30 in the morning, the prime minister telephoned Anido knowing he would still be awake and in his office.

First he congratulated the governor — with unsubtle sarcasm — on the previous evening’s miraculous escape from the assassin’s bullets — then struck home with the politician’s stiletto.

‘My understanding, however, is that General Arleguí has played a highly-questionable role in all of this, by employing methods that are unacceptable by any standards in any civilised country.’

‘Not at all, Prime Minister,’ replied the governor. ‘General Arleguí is an honourable man and a first-class police commissioner. As I have told you on many previous occasions, our methods are the only effective means of dealing with the situation here in Barcelona.’

Unlike earlier conversations with Anido, Sánchez Guerra remained firm.

‘No excuses this time, General Anido. I insist you dismiss Police Commissioner Arleguí forthwith and have him replaced, provisionally, by the colonel in charge of the Barcelona Guardia Civil barracks.’

Martinez Anido, used to acting as Viceroy of Catalonia, was rendered almost apoplectic by this order. No one interfered with his powers, not even the head of government.

‘Prime Minister, if you insist that I dismiss General Arleguí from his post then you will leave me with no alternative but to resign as civil governor.’

It was the answer the prime minister had hoped for.

‘Then, in that case, relinquish your command immediately to the Chief Justice of the High Court and return to Madrid by the end of the week.’

Sánchez Guerra hung up without giving him a chance to argue.

The indignant and bewildered civil governor was at a complete loss. Never had he imagined that he, with all his connections and power, would be sacked in such a peremptory manner.

Once the news sank in, however, he realised he had to contact Arleguí urgently and halt the mass dawn raids and murders that were about to be launched from police barracks all over Greater Barcelona —and the planned application of the ley de fugas on perhaps hundreds of CNT militants. If that massacre went ahead as planned, the consequences for both Martínez Anido and Arleguí would have been serious indeed.

Fortunately, Arleguí hadn’t yet given the go-ahead for the raids to proceed, so when Anido’s call came through he was still sitting by 177

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the phone waiting for Inspector Romero’s call to say the Badalona compañeros had talked and given them the names of the ‘leaders’ of the action groups. Arleguí immediately ordered his men to stand down. There was a problem, however. Romero already had his orders to shoot the three Badalona anarchists who were at that moment being interrogated in the morgue and would be murdered on their way back to headquarters.

Arleguí eventually got a message through to the hospital, but it was touch and go. Romero was beating up Joan Manen on the mortuary floor when a nurse came to say he had an urgent telephone call. The Special Brigade inspector returned after ten minutes with a worried look on his face and called his two colleagues over for a brief, whispered conference. Manen and the others were convinced that their time had come. But it hadn’t; instead they were pulled to their feet, handcuffed and manacled and marched nervously back across Barcelona to police headquarters where they arrived without incident, and were later transferred safely to the Modelo Prison.

Next morning news of the failed plot and Anido’s and Arleguí’s summary dismissal spread like wind-blown wildfire. Had their plot not unravelled so suddenly and dramatically, there is little doubt it would have provided the pretext for a bloody massacre of most of Barcelona’s anarchist and unionist militants.

At his daily press conference next morning, Martínez Anido looked worn out and ill at ease — which was unusual for him. The questions were routine until a younger, brasher journalist asked about the rumours of his resignation. Turning to the reporter as though stung by a wasp, he said, simply: ‘No sir, I have not resigned. I have been sacked!’ But he didn’t elaborate on the reasons why he had been sacked, attributing it to differences between General Arleguí and his superiors in Madrid’s General Directorate of Security.

Over the remaining few days before he was due to leave Barcelona, Anido received a steady stream of upper-middle-class and aristocratic callers pleading with him to stay. With Anido’s departure imminent they felt abandoned and anxious about their future. On so many occasions they had heard from Anido’s own lips how, singlehandedly, he had pacified the city that they believed it, in spite of the evidence of their own eyes to the contrary. Anido’s adjutant, Colonel Oller i Pinyol, claimed that even Francesc Cambó the Catalanist politician, pleaded with him to ignore Madrid and remain at the helm, but to no avail.

General Severiano Martínez Anido left office on 18 October 1922 178

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— but it didn’t take him long to return to power, this time on the national stage, as minister of the interior. Just what we needed.

Before leaving office, Arleguí destroyed all potentially compromising files and any evidence that might lead investigators back to him or to the governor. He also issued a statement in which he passed off the previous night’s botched ambush and arrests as a pre-emptive police action. His protests went unheeded. He also asked Chief Inspector Honorio Inglés, a close friend of Fernández Cesped, the examining magistrate in charge of questioning the arrested compañeros, to use his influence to get him to tear up their statements, but without success. Inglés wanted to have nothing further to do with Arleguí. Perhaps it was a guilty conscience about all the great wrongs for which he had been responsible; more likely, however, it was putting the lid on Schadenfreude at his enemy’s fall from grace.

Despite the secrecy surrounding the trial when it came to court the following June, Manuel Talens and the other surviving activists were all acquitted when Feced admitted his role as a police agent provocateur in the affair, but not a word of the trial appeared in the newspapers.

Some years later, during General Primo de Rivera’s dictatorship, Feced reinvented his story in a pamphlet, confirming that he had indeed been involved in an anarchist plot to assassinate Martínez Anido. Claiming to having grown disillusioned with his anarchist colleagues and with anarchism as a philosophy of life, he claimed he had developed an admiration for the general, and it was for that reason alone he had turned informer.

During the Republic, Feced alleged the Jesuits paid him to write the pamphlet, on the express orders of Primo de Rivera, in an attempt to clear the muddied waters around Martínez Anido, who by that time was the dictator’s minister of the interior.

Civil liberties were restored —after a fashion —following Anido’s and Arlegui’s departure, but still Sanchez Guerra refused to address the problem of pistolerismo. The devils was out of the box, however, and union activists still continued to be murdered, daily, in cold blood.

No longer could the repression in Catalonia be put down purely to the capricious whims of Martínez Anido and Arleguí; it was class hatred, pure and simple. Anido and Arleguí had been the instruments of the city’s mercantile capitalist class, and because these two paladins had departed the political scene it didn’t follow that the psychotic and ultra-rightist killers had gone too — far from it!

By late 1922, the main terrorists in Barcelona were Homs’s mercenary killers, but the Libres and the Sometent — the Carlist and 179

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middle-class Catholic militia — weren’t far behind.

The role of these paramilitary networks, brazenly aided and abetted by the police and the Guardia Civil, was to unburden the latter of the more unpalatable tasks of maintaining the social order and helping to ‘resolve matters’ by applying the ley de fugas. Killing prisoners was one efficient way of by passing the pressures on the legal system, the courts and the jails and avoiding the expense of imprisonment.

Barcelona’s new civil governor, General Ardanza, took office on 26 October, and on the 29th the CNT’s lawyer, Joan Casanova, led a union delegation to meet him to discuss legalising the union in return for a promise to act entirely within the law. All the CNT elicited from the new governor, however, were platitudes and a promise to refer the matter to his superiors in Madrid. The meeting was a formality, as by this time the CNT had emerged from clandestinity and was functioning openly and with impunity, albeit with sensitivity — but still illegally.

It was a different story with the Libres. The day after the CNT delegation met Ardanza, the governor met Libres president Juan Laguía Llitera and gave his blessing to the scab union.

The Libres leadership, in the meantime, had changed its attitude to the CNT. They no longer sought confrontation with the CNT; they were looking instead for a modus operandi that would allow their union to function unhindered in those areas where it had established itself.

In fact, after leaving his meeting with the governor, Libres president Laguía told reporters that they supported the CNT’s legalisation. He also claimed to have held discussions with the CNT National Committee through Joan Casanova, and had in fact signed an ‘armistice’ agreement with the anarcho-syndicalist union. Casanova denied this a few days later, but it’s something Laguía seems unlikely to have invented.

Certainly, discussions had been going on between them behind closed doors. The Libres president had turned up, unannounced and unexpected, at Segui’s apartment one Sunday morning to press the case for a pact — and a truce, which appears to have been in place — more by default than by anything else.

Laguía’s position now was that both unions had more in common than anything that divided them, and that they were victims of powerful forces with vested interests in keeping the two unions permanently at war with each other. He told Segui he wanted peace between the two organisations to prevent their respective activists from mutually butchering each other.

Segui listened quietly and politely to what Laguía had to say, 180

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replying that he had absolutely no control over the groups — which was true — and that the CNT had not been involved in any way with any of the outrages of which it had been accused.

‘These crimes of violence are totally repugnant to me,’ he replied, ‘and I would stand in front of my worst enemy to protect him if I were faced with such a situation.’

‘The CNT,’ he added, ‘is a democratic body and all decisions relating to policy and strategy lie in the hands of the rank-and-file groups. Any proposals such as those you are making now would have to be presented and debated through the proper channels — the assemblies and local federations. Only they can approve policy decisions.’

It was a depressed Laguía who left Segui’s apartment that afternoon, but the tacit truce between the Libres and the CNT did remain in place for some months. In fact, the two unions even joined forces during an employer’s lockout in the costal town of Calella.

Since his release from La Mola fortress, Salvador Segui, then CNT national secretary, had been expounding — to anyone who cared to listen — his ideas on building a parallel ‘good’ society that would eventually displace capitalism These were ideas he had formulated during his time in prison, and in Madrid, a much more gentile and bourgeois environment than Barcelona. The revolutionary moment — in his view — had passed. Anarchism, he now argued, was no longer about insurrection and the violent overthrow of the established order; it was a means of constructing a better and more just society in the here and now.

Anxious to break the cycle of violence and counter-violence, Segui was now strongly opposed to the influence of the Defence Committees, the cadres, affinity- and the action groups, ‘the uncontrollables’ as he described them. Fortunately, his opinions weren’t shared by many of the men and women of the ‘Idea’ who had carried the unions through the worst of the repression, and who were committed to the physical overthrow of the corrupt and unjust capitalist system by the only means available to them. There were also ‘purist’ anarchists or libertarian humanists, such as Federico Urales, father of Federica Montseny, who had little time for anarcho-syndicalism or the unions, which they believed only sustained the capitalist system. It now looked as though their assessment had been correct all along.

A story was circulating that Segui intended to break away from the CNT and set up a Catalan Labour Party along the lines of the British Independent Labour Party, something that Pestaña did some 181

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years later. The murdered lawyer Francesc Layret had been trying to recruit Segui to his own new workers’ party. Rumours also abounded that an anarchist group planned to assassinate Segui, but that was paranoid chatter. Certainly lots of comrades disagreed with Segui over many things, but they all respected him, and any differences they may have had would be aired and debated openly.

Matters came to a head when the compañeros of the Tierra y Libertad affinity group — an educational and cultural group — accused Segui of betraying the union and the class struggle. This was apparently due to his close links with government ministers, parliamentarians and Libres leaders like Laguía. Another charge against him was that of compromising the ‘Idea’ and undermining the anarchist principles of the CNT. Estanislao Maqueda, a member of the Tierra y Libertad group and the Coachbuilders’ Union, presented the case against Segui.

Maqueda spent months compiling a dossier on Segui’s alleged ‘deviationism’ and believed he now had sufficient evidence to confront El Noi del Sucre in a public debate at a ‘court of honour’.

The debate took place in the Ateneo Sindicalista premises in the carrrer de Paloma in Barcelona’s Fifth District, an area of the city known at the time for its music halls, prostitutes and revolutionary politics. Everyone was there. The atmosphere in the hall was tense and thick with cigar and cigarette smoke. Although El Noi had friends there, the mood of the audience was sufficiently hostile to concern his supporters. A vote of no confidence, as it were, could lose them the control of the union and allow it to fall more under the influence of the activists — people including Durruti, Ascaso, Laureano and myself, who wanted no compromise with the bosses or the state.

Maqueda was first to present his case — and very convincing it was too. Segui listened to everything that was said, serenely, attentively and without interruption. When Maqueda finally sat down at around nine o’clock in the evening, Segui spoke in his own defence, remaining seated throughout as, for seven hours he systematically refuted and demolished all the charges levelled against him, point by point. Finally, when this extraordinary debate ended at four o’clock in the morning, an exhausted Segui received a standing ovation from the audience, including most of his detractors.

But Segui’s critics wouldn’t give up and continued to snipe at him, calling for further debates on his ‘treachery’. Segui finally lost his temper during an argument in the crowded Café El Español. One 182

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particular group of critics irritated him so much that in the end he stood up and confronted his detractors saying he was tired of the shit they were bandying around, and that perhaps the best way to deal with the matter, once and for all, was to turn off the lights and settle affairs with their Stars.

The room fell silent. El Noi’s friends were worried by this seemingly foolhardy challenge; with almost everyone in the bar carrying a gun anything could have happened. Fortunately nobody took him up on his offer, but it broke the ice and most of those present saw the funny side of the challenge, including his critics. After that he had no more serious problems.

The catastrophic defeats of the Spanish army in North Africa brought down the government of José Sánchez Guerra, which was replaced on 7 December by a cabinet led by Manuel García Prieto. According to custom, General Ardanza was replaced as civil governor of Barcelona

by Salvador Raventós, a member of the Catalan Liberal Party who appointed his own chief of police, Hernández Malillosm, with Fernández Valdés and — surprise, surprise — Captain Julio Lasarte as his deputies.

The fall of Sánchez Guerra’s government and a new turf-war between the CNT and the Libre triggered a fresh outbreak of pistolerismo. Within a month, the gunmen of the employers and the Libres had murdered another 34 cenetistas, including Canela, Saldadoret, Albaricias and Pey, and seriously wounded over 70 more, including Ángel Pestaña.

NOTES 1: 1922: Zaragoza Congress Curiously, another crucial motion approved at the Zaragoza

Conference — one which was passed with hardly any discussion — was Salvador Segui’s proposal that the CNT abandon its apolitical and anti-parliamentary position for one favouring ‘lesser evils’ among the leftist-liberal political parties — by which he meant those which were more sympathetic to labour.

Segui was, at the time acting National Secretary of the CNT and living in Madrid, mixing with people across a different political and social spectrum, especially with professional liberal and socialist politicians, which may explain his chameleon-like change of position. He is reported to have told the socialist Indalecio Prieto that because the propitious moment for the revolution had passed, it was time that the CNT changed course and tactics. His motion triggered angry discussions among the militant rank-and-file and the young activists of the new, emerging action groups who saw Segui’s proposal as rank treachery. However, the motion was ignored by the militants and never put into practice — at least until the question of tactical voting came up prior to the spring elections of 1936.

183

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 2: 1922: Association Internationale des Travaileurs The first full meeting of the AIT was held in Berlin between 25 December 1922, and 1 January 1923, and was attended by delegates from international revolutionary syndicalist organisations who refused to join the Bolshevik Profintern. These included the CNT, the Swedish SAC, the German FAUD, the Portuguese CGT, the Argentinan FORA, the NAS, the Dutch Marine Union and the IWW. At the end of the congress, the delegates, not all of whom were anarchists — some were revolutionary syndicalists — issued a press release denouncing the Bolshevik seizure of power as ‘the deviation of a social revolution into a political revolution,’ that had resulted in ‘...a hypertrophy of state socialism, whose outcome has been the development of a capitalist system as exploitative and dominating as any other system of bourgeois origin.’

184

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TOULOUSE, WEDNESDAY 17 NOVEMBER 1976

The journey from Lyon to Toulouse was long and tiring. It had taken Farquhar and Busquets twelve hours to drive the 550 or so miles. They had had much to talk about on the journey —specifically, how to deal with Esgleas and Montseny.(1) It was late evening when they turned off the Boulevard de Strasbourg into the Rue Denfert Rochereau and drove up towards the familiar Place de Belfort until they found a parking space for Busquets’s Citroën Traction Avant Familiale. Exhausted, the two friends booked into a no-frills pension run by a comrade in the nearby Rue Caffarelli and went straight to bed.

After the confrontation with Martínez, Farquhar and Busquets had reported back to Románin and Marcelino Boticario —‘Botí’—who convened an urgent meeting of Lyon’s remaining ‘wise heads’ of the CNT to discuss the allegations and the evidence against Esgleas and Montseny. The meeting, chaired by Boticario — former secretarygeneral of the Libertarian Youth organisation (the FIJL) and CNT co-ordinating secretary —took place that same evening in the CNT(E) hall at 286 Cours Emile Zola in Villeurbanne. After two hours of heated discussion, the consensus among the 12 viejos present was that the only proper thing to do was to convene a summary honour jury or arbitration assembly to hear the case and decide what, if any, further action was appropriate. The problem, however, was identifying and empanelling a jury of fluent Spanish-speakers to hear the case, comrades who were sufficiently experienced and knowledgeable, yet dispassionate and open- and fair-minded. It was a tall order; neither Esgleas nor Montseny was liked outside their own clique, which was 185

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in fact substantial and —apart from the youth organisation, the FIJL — probably constituted the bulk of the emigrés of the CNT in exile, .

A long list of potential honour jury members was eventually whittled down to three names: Willy Huppertz, a 72-year-old German anarcho-syndicalist from the Ruhr, a former editor of the Essen-based anarchist journal Befreiung, who had been imprisoned in Oranienburg concentration camp under the Nazis; Albert Meltzer, a 56-year-old English anarcho-syndicalist printworker and co-founder of the Anarchist Black Cross, editor of the monthly anarchist journal Black Flag and author of many pamphlets on anarchist theory and practice; and, finally, Antonio Téllez Solà, the 55-year-old Spanish former Resistance fighter and guerrilla, a desk journalist with Agence France Presse and the historian of the anti-Francoist Resistance and the exiled Spanish anarchist diaspora. All three men, when contacted by telephone, immediately agreed to make themselves available to serve on the jury. By the Friday evening they were in Toulouse waiting for the call: Willy Huppertz from Mulheim, Albert Meltzer from London, and Antonio Tellez from Paris. Farquhar McHarg was to present the case against them, the prosecution case as it were; Esgleas and Montseny would have to defend themselves, but they didn’t know that yet Juan Busquets, and Miguel García García — a comrade who, like Busquets, had spent twenty years in Franco’s jails for his part in the Barcelona-based Talion’ urban guerrilla group — had the job of collecting Esgleas and Montseny and escorting them to the CNT premises at 4 Rue de Belfort, Toulouse. Advance knowledge of the hearing itself had to be kept secret; it would have been impossible to let either of the accused know beforehand without compromising and endangering the entire operation and, possibly, Farquhar’s life. With Cerrada’s murder and the two attempts on Farquhar, had Esgleas and Montseny been aware of the honour jury-arbitration panel they might have fled or called on the protection of whichever cabal they served.

It was 10:00 a.m. exactly on Saturday 27 November when Miguel García García, accompanied by Juan Busquets, rang the doorbell of the Esgleases’ first-floor apartment in the narrow Rue Gaston Phoebus, an unassuming working-class street bounded on two sides by Toulouse’s Rapas Cemetery, and on the third by the riverside Avenue de Muret.

Farquhar McHarg waited downstairs in Busquets’s two-tone long-base Citroën, its engine running.

The door was opened by an unshaven Germinal Esgleas. Dressed in vest and trousers held up by a belt and a pair of brown braces he resembled a hybrid Bartleby the Scrivener and the villainous 186

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Thénardier from Les Misérables. A short, slender man, balding with a weak chin, and intelligent, cold brown eyes magnified behind thick pebble glasses. The faint colour there was in Esgleas’s parchment complexion visibly bleached when he saw Miguel García standing at the door with Busquets. He clearly recognised him.

‘Who is it calling at this time on a Saturday morning?’ came an irritated female voice from somewhere in the apartment. It was his wife, Federica —‘La Leona’, ‘The Lioness’, to her admirers —but to others she was known as ‘Madame Thénardier’.

‘May we come in?’ asked Miguel politely but firmly.

Esgleas stood for a moment, staring first at Miguel then at Busquets, uncertain how to react. A short unnatural silence. followed, then a convulsive shiver shook his body; it may have been the cold, or perhaps it was fear.

‘What do you want?’ he asked, nervously.

‘We are here to ask you and your wife to come with us to appear before an honour jury — an arbitration panel — to answer questions concerning your alleged involvement in the murder of comrade Laureano Cerrada Santos, the attempted murder of comrade Farquhar McHarg —and your relationship with the Francoist and Gaullist special services. There are also allegations that you betrayed comrades to the Vichy French, to the Nazis, and to the Francoist special services from 1939 onwards, and, of course, the long-standing question of the disappearance of union funds and assets entrusted to you from 1939.’

Esgleas blinked, clearly finding it difficult to believe his ears.

Pulling himself up to his full height, which wasn’t much (he only came up to Miguel Garcia’s shoulders) he stuck his chin forward defiantly.

‘What fucking nonsense is this!’ he exclaimed. ‘This is a joke, surely? I don’t answer to you or any so-called honour jury or panel of inquiry. I am the secretary-general of the Executive Council of the MLE and I am only accountable to the Executive Council. Understand?’

‘Don’t give me that bullshit,’ said Miguel. ‘Your vainglorious Executive Council has no legitimacy whatsoever, and certainly not according to federalist practice. You represent nobody other than yourselves. The MLE should have been disbanded years ago, certainly after the Liberation in 1944 when the CNT was reconstituted. It may no longer be a labour union in the proper sense of the word, but at least it was a democratic body elected by its actual membership as opposed the self-appointed clique of “notables” represented by you and your self-serving cronies.’

‘What’s going on here?’ said Federica Montseny, emerging from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. ‘What do you want with my 187

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husband?’ she exclaimed. Esgleas looked at her, clearly rattled by the unexpected upset in his Saturday morning routine.

Unwilling to continue what looked like degenerating into a shouting match on the landing, Miguel and Juan produced their Stars and pushed Esgleas into the apartment, closing the door behind them.

‘Sit down, please,’ said Miguel to the 71-year old former minister, pointing to a chair with the barrel of his gun. ‘We have no intention of harming you, but you and your husband have to come with us, now, to the Rue de Belfort, to answer serious allegations that have been made against the pair of you.’

Montseny, ever the diva, immediately went on the offensive, acting out the role of the outraged, self-righteous innocent. Rushing at Miguel, shrieking abuse into his face at the top of her shrill voice, spit and dribble spurting from her thin-lipped mouth like an exploding bottle of Cava, poking him repeatedly on the chest with her index finger, forcing him to step back. Then, with her fingernails in the fixed position, she turned on him again as though she had it mind to shred his face. Recovering his composure, Miguel grabbed her wrists before she could do any damage, stared at her grimly for a few seconds while she shouted and kicked, before slapping her hard across the cheek, knocking her sideways into the chair, an unexpectedly unchivalrous response that seemed to knock the fight right out of her, for the moment anyway, but she was a shrewd and savvy woman who knew when to bite her tongue and bide her time.

‘Shut the fuck up, you treacherous old harridan,’ said Miguel, wiping her slavver from his eye with the back of his hand. His long years of imprisonment, as the result of a betrayal by an informer, had done little to ameliorate his notoriously short temper, especially when it came to dealing with suspected traitors and confidentes, not even when they were little old ladies. Her cultivated air of injured innocence cut no ice with him; he had seen her operate behind the scenes in committee rooms and knew perfectly well the manipulative and divisive role she had played over forty long years, ever since that fateful morning on 21 July 1936 when Marianet, the newly elected Catalan regional secretary foisted her on the Regional Committee of Catalonia. ‘You and your conniving husband here have a lot to answer for. You are both coming with us — now! You,’ he said, turning to the now trembling, ashen-faced Esgleas, ‘get yourself washed and dressed.

We’re leaving in ten minutes.’

‘What are you doing here?’ said Esgleas to Farquhar when he saw who was in the drivers’ seat 188

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‘Guess!’ said Farquhar, eyeing him in the car’s rear-view mirror.

‘The other week I had a run-in with some would-be killers, whom I am trying to track down. Also, Laureano, one of my closest friends, was murdered, did you know that? Meantime, I’ve been trailed, ambushed, and shot at, so, I’d kind of like to know who is bankrolling this posse of thugs and fascists. It appears their aim is to prevent me exposing them, and their traitor friends. Does that make any sense to you? The cost in terms of money and lives doesn’t seem to matter much to them. Any ideas?’

Esgleas raised an eyebrow. The look on his face was not pleasant. ‘You’re barking up the wrong tree completely,’ he said. ‘You are a fool, McHarg. You don’t know what you are doing or who you are dealing with.’

‘Don’t say any more, Germinal’ muttered Montseny, glaring into Farquhar’s eyes across the driver’s rear-view mirror with an intensity that could cut steel.

Busquets’s Citroën pulled up outside the gated red-brick archway that was the entrance to 4 Rue de Belfort in Toulouse’s Matabiau district.

The car’s five occupants filed through the gates — Busquets leading with Miguel and Farquhar in the rear —past the old men playing chess on rickety tables in the gloomy, musty-smelling lobby, up the narrow staircase to the first-floor offices of the headquarters of the National Committee of the CNT in Exile. These premises had been the headquarters of the emigré National Committee and the Executive Committee of the MLE since 19 August 1944, the day the local maquis, which consisted largely of Spanish exiles, liberated the city from the Nazi invaders.

The examination itself was held in the conference room, a dimlylit space not much larger than a school classroom. Sparsely furnished, a long pine table stood in the centre of the room surrounded by chairs and benches. On the whitewashed walls hung faded posters of the Spanish Revolution, exhortations to join militia columns and heroic portraits of Durruti, iconic images interspersed with less colourful, more modern typographic posters denouncing the Franco regime and calls for solidarity with the Spanish people. The three jurors, Meltzer, Huppertz and Tellez, were already seated along one side of the table, which was piled high with books, documents and files, mainly from Cerrada’s archives. Facing them across the table sat Esgleas and Montseny, with Farquhar on the left and Boticario on the right.

Occupying the chairs and benches around the table was a scattering of two-dozen or so spectators, elderly militants, including Juanel and 189

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Ramonín as well as a few from the Esgleas-Montseny camp. Antonio Téllez, the chairman, who was seated between the two other jurors, formally introduced himself and the others and politely explained to the couple why the honour jury had been convened, and the nature of the allegations against them, emphasising that it was not a ‘trial’ in the statist sense of the word. He also apologised for the lack of fairness in not advising them sooner of the hearing, but under the circumstances it was felt that course of action, with the possibility of an armed attack on the premises, would have been inadvisable.

Montseny and Esgleas protested vociferously about their treatment that morning, insisting that they had been brought under duress and challenged the right of anyone to try them, saying they refused to cooperate in any way with the panel, claiming it had no jurisdiction. They were, they repeated, officers of the MLE answerable only to a properly constituted full Congress of the re-unified CNT in Spain, whenever and wherever that might be, objections that sounded remarkably similar to those advanced by Charles I when brought to trial in England in 1649, albeit that Montseny and Esgleas weren’t monarchs by divine right, even if they sometimes behaved as such.

Antonio Téllez, the chairman, set the tone of the proceedings, assuring everyone that the hearing was precisely that, a voire dire convened to examine the quality and admissibility of the evidence compiled by Cerrada and presented by Farquhar. It wasn’t some kangaroo court or farcical parody of the statist judicial process. Answering the couple’s objections to the panel’s right to sit in judgment or evaluate the evidence against them, he said that given the nature of the allegations made, justice demanded that they at least hear the allegations, and that they either refute them or provide an explanation. The charges, however, were serious and could not be left in abeyance indefinitely.

‘These proceedings should not, in any way, be considered a trial’, emphasised Téllez yet again. ‘You are free to leave at any time, but I must point out that although we cannot impose sanctions, if you refuse to collaborate we will have no option but to make these allegations public, something neither you nor we would relish given the negative impact it would have not only on your reputations, but also on that of the CNT and on the wider anarchist movement.’

The couple went into a huddle with two of their supporters, more and more of whom were turning up as news of the hearing spread among the Toulousian Spanish emigré community. After a few minutes, Montseny, directing herself at Tellez, said: ‘We have no doubt whatsoever that any allegations made against us here —whatever they 190

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may be — are malicious, false, and egocentrically motivated by petty jealousies and factional vested interest groups for their own sinister ends. But we have nothing to hide. So, please, let us hear what you have to say and present us with whatever evidence you have have to support your allegations’ Téllez signalled to Farquhar and said: ‘Comrade McHarg, you had better begin’.

Nodding briefly towards both sides of the table Farquhar stood up and, opening his briefcase, produced a number of files. Removing from these a selection of papers, he placed them on the table before each of the jurors. He talked quietly and fluidly, with an air of diffidence.

‘As you are probably aware, the starting point of this investigation was last month’s murder, in Paris, of comrade Laureano Cerrada Santos, a murder that was followed the next evening by an attempt on my own life, also in Paris. These events coincided with the news of the release into my custody of Cerrada’s archives, which included documents relating to his ongoing investigation into the identity of deep-penetration police infiltrators, confidentes and secret service agents within the emigré CNT and the wider Spanish libertarian movement, particularly the Executive Council of the MLE. ‘The report and the documents now before you, show how Esgleas and Montseny first came to the attention of Cerrada. I can do no more than present and interpret for you the facts, some of which you are probably already cognisant with.

‘The first allegation made by Cerrada against Esgleas and Montseny is that they are agents — or, at least, conscious assets — of both the Francoist and French special services. In that role he claims they passed on information that led to the arrest, torture, jailing and, in many cases, the murder of many of the comrades of the action groups and of the regional and national committees that operated inside Spain between 1939 and 1963. Cerrada suspected them of turning the emigré movement into the unwitting tool of the Francoist state. Additionally, in his possession was a document suggesting that this pair are currently engaged in a joint enterprise — if not an actual conspiracy — with hard-line remnants of the former regime, the socalled ‘Bunker’, to cover up the crimes of Francoism and shield them from prosecution, and to facilitate the continuity of the spirit of Francoism through the ‘transitional’ period.

‘I do not presume to argue that they share the same objectives as the remnants of the clerico-fascist Francoist regime, but I do suggest they have shared interests, albeit temporary ones. I would also remind 191

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you that this would not be the first time CNT ‘notables’ have established links with Francoist authorities. I refer to the cincopuntistas who opened negotiations in 1965 with disenchanted Falangists and monarchists through one of Franco’s general staff in a perhaps understandably tempting strategy to catapult our nowdecimated union in the interior back into pole position in order to counter Communist Party influence in the Workers’ Commissions. I would argue, however, that no matter how mistaken those comrades may have been in 1965, it was unquestionably the inertia of the apostolic leadership in Toulouse, namely Esgleas and Montseny, that created the vacuum they were attempting to fill.

Picking up a sheet of paper, Farquhar pointed to Esgleas.

‘For those of you who don’t know, let me tell you some details about this gentleman’s career. Germinal Esgleas Jaume, aged 73, a Catalan from Malgrat, spent his early childhood in Spanish Morocco where his father and brother were murdered by tribal rebels during the Rif uprising. Esgleas was the sole survivor. In 1919 his mother took him back to Calella, the family home, some fifty kilometres north of Barcelona, where he found employment in the textile industry, and where he joined the CNT. By 1920, the 17-year-old had been elected secretary of the local General Industries Union and, by 1923, was an established figure in the union, having been brought under the wing of Juan García Oliver who nominated him, unsuccessfully, for the post of regional secretary of the Catalan CNT. ‘Then, in 1926, during the Primo de Rivera dictatorship, he met and began working with Joan Montseny, the publisher of the purist anarchist periodical La Revista Blanca — and father of his future partner Federica Montseny.

‘In 1928, Esgleas was arrested and convicted of illegal association, spending a year in prison due to his union membership.

On release, he worked as a union-sponsored teacher in a rationalist school in Mataro, and by the time of the 1931 CNT Congress he was the teachers’ union representative for Blanes, Calella and Malgrat — and a member of the Federación Anarquista Ibérica, the FAI. ‘In August 1936, within weeks of the military-fascist uprising, someone, I don’t know who, selected him to be one of the three-man joint CNT-FAI-PSUC-UGT commission who, during the autumn and winter of 1936-37, travelled between Paris, Prague, Warsaw, Liège and Hamburg to acquire arms on behalf of the republican government, the Catalan Generalidad and the Anti-Fascist Militias Committee. The other members of that commission were fellow CNT-FAI members 192

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Manuel Mascarell and Facundo Roca Gascó. Questions were raised — both at the time and subsequently — about the competency and the financial irregularities surrounding the work of this commission, none of which have ever been satisfactorily answered. Few if any arms were acquired and substantial sums of money remain unaccounted for.

Whether this was due to incompetence and inexperience in negotiating with wily European arms dealers and confidence tricksters, or to fraud, it is unlikely we will ever know.

‘Comrade Meltzer here, on the Panel, may have more detailed knowledge of this aspect of Esgleas’s career as he himself was involved in procuring and shipping 840 tons of rifles, machineguns and ammunition to the CNT in Alicante on the SS Bramhill from the Free Port of Hamburg.

‘First, however, we should consider the meteoric rise within the confederal leadership of Esgleas’s and Montseny’s mentor and protector, Mariano Rodriguez Vázquez, or “Marianet”, as he was known. Marianet was, in turn, the protégé of the CNT’s collaborationist secretary-general, Horacio Martínez Prieto, and Juan García Oliver.

‘Marianet’s advancement within the Organisation from June 1936 onwards is suspiciously obscure — but meteoric. Like his sponsor in the apostolic succession that was the confederal leadership of the time, Martínez Prieto, “Marianet” was an “unconditional” supporter of the Negrín government which came to power on 17 May 1937, on the back of that month’s Stalinist provocations at the Barcelona Telephone Exchange. It is also undisputed that Marianet and his placemen, including Montseny and Esgleas here, were constantly manoeuvring for the CNT-FAI’s full participation in the Negrín government — and seeking peace negotiations with Franco.

‘This leads us to Esgleas’s and Montseny’s complicity in Marianet’s plot to smuggle gold ingots and jewels out of the country after the events of May ’37, the consequences of which were borne — out of loyalty to the union —by Joaquín Ascaso, an innocent comrade of indisputable integrity whom they later conspired to murder, along with comrade Antonio Ortíz.(2) ‘On 17 March 1939, a week after crossing into exile in France, Secretary-General Marianet travelled to London with Bartolomé Pascual, José Pros and Facundo Roca Gascó — the latter being the Paris-based CNT-FAI intelligence officer who procured the poison intended to murder Ascaso and Ortíz —for a secret meeting with Bank of England officials in an attempt to negotiate the recovery of funds previously transferred to the UK by the Negrín government. This London meeting had been arranged through the offices of the Madrid193

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based British naval attaché, Captain Alan Hillgarth, a British Intelligence officer with staunch integrist Roman Catholic and ardent pro-Francoist sympathies.(3) ‘Another reason for the National Committee’s trip to London was to liaise with Colonel Segismundo Casado, head of the former republican National Defence Council, to coordinate the shipping to London of whatever economic assets and produce that could be smuggled out of Spain.

‘On his return to Paris, Marianet instructed González Marín, the CNT’s Treasury and Agriculture secretary in the Casado administration — which now constituted the republican government in Madrid — to order the director general of security in Madrid to collect the maximum possible amount of foreign currency, ostensibly to fund the activities of the various Evacuation Juntas, a sum that amounted to nearly 80 million francs. Marín also ordered four ships of large tonnage to put in at Valencia to load cargoes of almonds, mercury, and saffron, etc., to sell on the international market, the revenue from which was supposedly intended for the Evacuation Juntas. Again, no monies ever reached these committees.

‘By the 18th of June that year Marianet” was dead, drowned while swimming in a lake by the river Marne south of Paris. In spite of the fact that he was known to be a strong swimmer, the coroner recorded a verdict of “accidental death by drowning”.

‘Present that fateful day at the picnic with Marianet was José María Villanueva, a member of the CNT-FAI foreign intelligence service, who is here with us in this room today . . .’ Farquhar nodded in the direction of a well-dressed elderly man seated at the rear of the room. The man returned his stare, dispassionately. Farquhar continued: ‘. . . as indeed were comrades Esgleas and Montseny, all of whom watched from the shore as the “gypsy-king of the construction union, the sobriquet by which Marianet was known, struggled helplessly in the water. No one went to his assistance.

‘And so, the man who replaced the unfortunate Marianet as secretary-general of the Executive Council of the MLE, was Germinal Esgleas, a witness to — and a beneficiary of — his death.’(4) Farquhar paused for a drink of water, then resumed: ‘Another statement I have here, from García Oliver, claims that immediately after Marianet’s death, both Esgleas and the CNT-FAI security chief, Manuel Escorza, went directly from the scene of the “accident” to the deceased’s apartment and removed the thousands of files he had been keeping on CNT-FAI members. It is probable that he also removed the documents and bank statements relating to the CNT 194

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funds at the same time. What became of these files and documents?

‘Some of you may remember that among the ever-changing list of MLE’s Executive Council members was a character by the name of Serafin Aliaga, a pro-Stalinist member of the FIJL who challenged the Casado-Mera coup against the CP-led Negrín government in 1939, and who later joined the Communist Party (PCE) in 1940. Given the information about this person on file, how and why was he allowed to continue serving on the “Executive Committee” of a supposedly anarchist organisation when, clearly, his loyalties lay elsewhere?

‘Another deposition in Cerrada’s files is from comrade Josep Trenc Cases complaining that in post-1939 Toulouse he was constantly running into all sorts of questionable people in the MLE claiming to have been militants during the war. “Plants and fifth columnists whose sole function,” he said, “was to cause mischief and sow confusion.”

Surely Esgleas, with access to Marianet’s and Escorza’s extensive files, could have exposed and dealt with these people? Or did it serve his purposes to keep them on side?

‘We can only speculate as to the reasons for Esgleas’s calmness, and the equanimity with which he reportedly viewed Marianet’s deaththroes in the water. I would venture to suggest that, with Marianet gone, the way would be clear for him to step into his shoes and take complete control of the MLE. There is also, I suggest, the possibility of Esgleas’s pique at the “horns” he believed he had acquired due to his wife’s lusty relationship with the handsome gypsy.’

No sooner had Farquhar mentioned Esgleas’s “horns” and Montseny’s alleged affair with Marianet when at least half the audience — and the accused — jumped to their feet, hissing and voicing angry protests. For a few minutes all hell broke loose. It looked as though it might develop into violent situation, possibly even a gunfight. Many of those present were probably carrying guns. Eventually, however, Téllez restored order to the proceedings and, after he had admonished Farquhar to speculate less and keep to the substance of the matter, the hearing got underway again.

‘I apologise,’ said Farquhar, ‘for my earlier digression if I appeared ungallant, but to return to the point, I should say that Cerrada’s archives included a statement from Juan Verde, the first Minutes Secretary of the MLE Executive Council, originally nominated for that position by García Oliver. According to Verde, neither Esgleas nor Montseny attended any of the first half-dozen or so meetings at which he took the minutes. Only after Marianet’s death, and Esgleas’s nomination as secretary-general, did he and Montseny start attending 195

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meetings. Verde, by the way, lasted only a few months in the job. He resigned after falling out with García Oliver over the undemocratic nature of the MLE’s Executive Council.

‘Esgleas has consistently refused to discuss the question of the MLE funds and the movable assets entrusted to his and Marianet’s care in February-March 1939. Nor was he prepared to cede what he still sees as his absolute authority to any of the duly elected secretarygenerals of the CNT in exile — José Germán González, Juan Manuel Molina —Juanel, who is here today, and Francisco Careño —or to the national or regional committees in the interior for prisoner relief, family support, for education and propaganda, or for those involved in the guerrilla struggle against the Franco regime. The story he told Juanel’s National Committee was, firstly, that the cupboard was bare and that there was no “MLE treasure” and, secondly, that had they acceded to every request for help from poverty-stricken and imprisoned members, there would not have been enough left over to cover their postage costs. Inevitably, the result split the CNT, a split for which Esgleas and Montseny, I would argue, bear the bulk of responsibility.(4) Jumping to his feet again, Esgleas shouted: ‘Point of order, comrade chairman. The facts are that in December 1944, I informed Juanel’s National Committee of the interior that there was no MLE “treasure”; if there were any treasure, the secret went to the bottom of the Marne along with Marianet’s body. Let me spell it out clearly, again, neither then nor subsequently have I been the depositary of CNT or MLE funds. I also informed Juanel and his colleagues that I would account for my stewardship only to a full CNT congress held inside a free Spain, and to no one else, certainly not to a kangaroo court such as this or to a National Committee headquartered in the Puerta del Sol whose regional committees operate from the country’s Civil Guard barracks. Juanel and the other National Committee members wouldn’t take my word for it, so, under the circumstances, we had no alternative but to break off all contact with them until the following year during a full congress of the CNT/MLE in Paris.’(5) ‘Well,’ continued Farquhar once Esgleas had resumed his seat, ‘you can believe that if you like — I don’t. As I was saying: when the Nazis occupied France in May 1940, the other members of the MLE’s Executive Council — representing the national and peninsular committees of the CNT, FAI and FIJL — didn’t survive long: García Oliver and his wife Pilar fled to Sweden in July with the help of the SAC, shipping out from there to Mexico in November 1939; Germinal 196

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de Sousa, Valerio Mas and Francesc Isgleas were arrested in France, while Serafin Aliaga and Rafael Iñigo simply disappeared, leaving Esgleas and Montseny as the sole remaining members of the Executive Council of the MLE —with Esgleas as acting treasurer responsible for the assets of the CNT in Exile (CNTE), whatever and wherever they were.

‘Given, therefore, comrades Esgleas and Montseny’s allegedly modest circumstances, I would like them to explain how they were able to purchase a farm so soon after arriving in France in 1939?

Between 1936 and 1939 Esgleas was a paid union official, seconded to the Economic Council of the Generalidad, on, one imagines, a relatively small salary. As for comrade Montseny, she was Minister of Health and Public Assistance for only six months. When the Caballero government fell in May 1937 she reverted to being a full-time salaried member of the CNT, which was unlikely to have paid a great deal either; nor could her novel-writing have brought in much money, certainly not sufficient to purchase a farm in France.

‘If indeed it was the ubiquitous André Germaine who purchased the farm and the land, what was the financial basis of their arrangement? Was it a loan, a gift, or something more sinister? And why did comrade Montseny adopt the name Fanny Germaine prior to the German invasion, especially when there was, at the time, no likelihood of her being extradited from France?’

‘As for Esgleas and Montseny’s high-minded about-face on the vexed question of collaborating with governments and state agencies after their ministerial and organisational experiences during the Civil War, why on earth did they agree to serve on the committee of the Spanish Republican Emigration Service, the SERE — Servicio de Emigración de los Republicanos Españoles? Where did they think the assets of that organisation came from, if not from government? Did they not think that this conflicted with their much-talked-about principles of non-collaboration in — or with — government agencies?

‘Pursuing this question of “purist anarchism” versus governmental collaboration, I’d like to ask them about the MLE Council’s ongoing relationship with the French government. Was it not the case that after the Liberation in 1944 the only organisations granted official recognition in France were those who could demonstrate a record of armed struggle against the Nazis? So, in order to claim the right for the MLE to exist as a legal entity in France, Esgleas would have had to claim credit for a resistance which he initially opposed, and in which he did not participate until obliged to do so, and for a very, very short period of time, by force of 197

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circumstance, having been liberated from prison by the Resistance.

‘It was Esgleas, remember, who had been responsible for the MLE’s official denunciation of the Resistance, in 1940, on the basis of their alleged principles, and their commitment to preserving the “moral and material” values of anarchism. It was precisely on these grounds that comrade Francisco Ponzán Vidal, one of the most outstandingly brave and selfless heroes of the Resistance and the escape and evasion lines, was expelled from the MLE — after resigning first in disgust at Esgleas’s stance!

‘The reality is that during Germinal Esgleas’s time as secretarygeneral of the MLE and the CNT-in-exile, he was responsible for the expulsion of well over a thousand of the Organisation’s most committed rank-and-file militants. What Esgleas and Montseny and all the rest of these “heresy hunters” on the Executive Committee did, in fact, was to impose their patent on anarchism and exploit the office of the Executive Committee of the MLE as a modern version of the Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith — in other words, the Holy Office of the Inquisition — and, in the process, doing for anarchism what the Franciscans and Dominicans in the thirteenth century did for Christianity. In their manoeuvring to ensure their apostolic continuity they subverted and neutered a once-mighty, vital and revolutionary union, turning it into a monument frozen in time — a self-perpetuating, self-congratulating old comrades’ mutual aid association ‘Equally, in July 1945, although the National Committee of the CNT appointed by the Paris Congress adopted a virulently anticollaborationist line, it still issued, through Ángel Marín Pastor — a formerly highly regarded comrade and veteran of the Durruti Column who was later exposed as a police informer — a circular to its federations and committees urging all MLE personnel who had held officer/NCO rank in the Republican Army to join the AFARE, the Agrupación de Fuerzas Armadas de la República Española (Spanish Republican Armed Forces Group), an officially recognised veterans’ organisation in France. The idea was to establish the MLE’s Resistance credentials and raise its profile in anticipation of the Allies possibly honouring their promise to overthrow the Franco regime.

‘I suggest that Esgleas’s and Montseny’s “anti-collaborationism” was never rooted in principle, but in out-and-out jealousy of their orthodoxy and their lust for power and influence. Don’t you find it strange that anti-collaborationism became their guiding principle only after the Mexican-based republican government in exile of José Giral y Pereyra failed to offer them cabinet portfolios?

198

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‘In a statement Cerrada took from Ramón Alvarez, Ramonín, a former CNT sub-committee secretary-general in 1945 — who is also here with us today — the Giral government asked the CNT in Spain, through the organisation in Toulouse, to nominate four members to fill the Public Works and Agriculture portfolios. The National Committee of the Interior proposed Montseny and Horacio Prieto — from the exterior —and José Sancho and José Leyva from the interior.

Giral chose Prieto and Leyva. Only then did Esgleas and Montseny take exception to the idea of government participation and invoke “sacred principles”, ordering Leyva to return to Spain and instructing the organisation in the interior to reconsider and desist from appointing ministers to the Giral government. And when Prieto and Leyva eventually did take up their portfolios in Mexico, they were denounced — viciously and patronisingly — in a Montseny editorial in her mouthpiece, CNT, the official organ of the CNT in exile. I quote: “The so-called confederal ministers in the Giral government represent nobody. They are simply two former workers who represent only themselves.” Where, I ask, does that leave Montseny, whom I doubt has ever done a day’s waged work in her life, let alone been an exworker?

‘It was this affront to Esgleas and Montseny’s dignity that triggered the split in the CNT, leaving those who supported the committees of the Interior, led by Ramonín, to set up an alternative CNT, known as the “Spain is the real movement” faction, focusing on clandestine union activity inside Spain.

‘Toulouse’s patronising attitude to the comrades of the interior was typical of Esgleas, Montseny and their cronies. Let me give you an example. In 1945 the regional CNT secretary for Poitiers was Juan Bundo, a man with a FAI background, but with absolutely no union experience whatsoever. In his view, the emigré organisation in France was the real — the only — CNT. The comrades in the Interior, on the other hand, he dismissed as “collaborators” and “nameless types”, “canon fodder”! Comrade Enrique Marco Nadal (the secretary-general of the clandestine CNT in the interior between May 1946 and April 1947 when he was betrayed, arrested, and subsequently sentenced to death, then reprieved to serve 17 years in Francoist jails) told Cerrada that at the crucial Paris Congress of 1945 a speaker from the Esgleas/Montseny faction stood up and announced, shamelessly, that as far as the CNT was concerned the Spanish Civil War had ended the moment the bulk of its members crossed into France. Those who remained behind in Spain were, he claimed, “easily replaceable masses, once more favourable conditions returned”.’

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At this point Antonio Téllez, the chairman, intervened, suggesting the meeting adjourn for lunch and reconvene at 3:00 p.m.

Esgleas, Montseny, and their acolytes, filed off to a bistro round the corner. Their supporters included Nisse Lätt, the one-eyed Swedish editor of Brand, a veteran of the Durruti column and the 1937 May Days. In spite of his own negative experiences with the ‘prominent leaders’ in Spain and his hostility to Montseny and Esgleas’s SAC paymasters, Latte consistently defended Montseny’s decision to accept a cabinet post in Largo Caballero’s government. Lätte always thought the best of people, believing Montseny’s story that she accepted the position out of loyalty and obligation. According to her, joining the government was what the rank-and-file wanted. Unfortunately, the question was never put to them. They were presented with a fait accompli by the national and regional committees of the CNT and by the peninsular committee of the FAI. ‘Those who attack Federica attack themselves’ was Lätte’s angry response to criticisms made of her in his presence.

Busquets and Garcia followed the group at a discreet distance.

NOTES 1: Almost a year had passed since Franco’s death, in which time little about the

regime had changed. It was the so-called ‘Transition’, which proved to be more of an ‘interregnum’. King Juan Carlos had, after all, given his oath to Franco and had sworn, publicly, to uphold the principles of the Francoist ‘Glorious National Movement’. Behind the scenes, however, it had been twelve months of intense political and social manoeuvring by the Bunker. A few months earlier, in a move to establish the regime’s ‘democratic’ credentials and appease the Spanish banking and business communities whose economic interests depended on joining the European Common Market, King Juan Carlos, Franco’s appointed and anointed successor, had been forced to sack his prime minister, Bunker leader Carlos Arias Navarro —popularly known as ‘the butcher of Malaga’ for the atrocities for which he was responsible after the military uprising of 1936.

Alhough Arias Navarro was out of office, he wasn’t out of the frame; the Bunker still called the shots. The new king’s actions clearly demonstrated he saw himself as both the grantor and guarantor of the privileges required to consolidate the status quo. Both the church and the army wanted to retain their special status, with church-owned and church-administered private schools given the same weight in the school system as public schools. They were also still benefitting from a heavy state subsidy. Remember that this was at a time when 85 per cent of Spain’s adult population still, in 1976, had little more than a primary school education, and public social expenditures were the lowest in Europe. The army, police and paramilitary Guardia Civil were still the guarantors of social order, and of Spain’s ‘unity’ against the threats of Catalan, Basque and even Andalusian separatism.

Adolfo Suárez, Arias Navarro’s successor as prime minister, was previously the

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES secretary-general of the official Francoist ‘Movimiento Nacional’, and his far-right politics were reflected in his cabinet, a rogue’s gallery of the ultra-right, Integrist Catholics and Opus Dei, men such as Manuel Fraga Iribarne, Jose Maria de Areilza, and the notorious and openly fascist Minister of the Interior, Rodolfo Martín Villa. Esgleas’s former protégé, the police spy Jacinto Guerrero Lucas, was now working directly for Martín Villa as security coordinator with the French Ministry of the Interior. General Eduardo Blanco, Franco’s security and intelligence chief, remained at the helm of the security apparatus, the Dirección General de Seguridad (DGS), while his acolytes filled the country’s top and middle-ranking police and paramilitary jobs under the leadership of Gestapotrained police commissioner Roberto Conesa Escudero, a republican apparatchik turncoat from the Juventudes Socialistas Unificadas (JSU). This Integrist Catholicfascist faction also controlled the most powerful of the newly created police trade unions. Escudero, former head of the Brigada Político-Social, a man widely considered to be the most brutal of all of the regime’s recent torturers, had just recently been appointed chief of the BPS’s newly-formed successor organisation — the anodynely named Comisaría General de Información.

2: In May 1937 Spanish republican carabineros at the Puigcerdá border post stopped and searched a CNT staff car carrying two members of the CNT National Committee: Máximo Peris García and Aurelio Pernia Álvarez. The driver was Gregorio Elías Soriano. In the car they found suitcases containing gold bars and precious stones to the value of 700,000 pesetas. Threatened with summary execution unless they admitted to whom the haul belonged the pair gave a written statement that the gold and gems were given to them by CNT secretarygeneral Marianet to sell in France. The proceeds of the sale, they claimed, were to be used to purchase goods and equipment for the organisation.

When the National Committee learned of the arrests, and the damning confession made by its two members, Marianet instructed CNT lawyer Benito Pavón to extricate them from the embarrassing predicament in which they now found themselves. His advice was to find someone of good moral standing within the organisation, to act as scapegoat and take responsibility for the contraband.

That someone, at Marianet’s and Esgleas’s suggestion, was Joaquín Ascaso, the president of the troublesome and embarrassing — to the CNT’s National and Catalan Regional Committee that is —independent Council of Aragón. The choice of Ascaso as criminal fall-guy served a double purpose of course, with the likelihood of the CNT’s exclusion from the incoming Negrín government, in spite of Marianet, Montseny and Esgleas’s hard lobbying for ministerial positions in the new administration. A now desperate National Committee was ready to seize upon any excuse to demonstrate its respectability, especially if it was at the expense and to the detriment of the reputation of the Council of Aragón, whose radical programme of socialisation had caused it and the regional committees serious political discomfort.

When Esgleas initially proposed the idea to Joaquín Ascaso, in May 1937, he played on the awkward situation the affair would create for the CNT when it came to court, promising Ascaso that if he agreed to be the scapegoat the case would be dealt with quickly, and he would be in no danger. García Oliver, the then outgoing Justice Minister in Largo Caballero’s government, would ensure that the files disappeared. So, as a good militant, and against my advice as well as that of Antonio Ortíz, head of the Confederal 25th Division in Caspe, Ascaso naively and selflessly agreed to carry the can for Marianet and Esgleas in order to spare the CNT’s good reputation.

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 Ortíz warned Ascaso he was being set up: ‘Can’t you see what you are doing?’ he said. ‘You are handing over Aragón, the Council, the collectives and everything we’ve achieved over these past twelve months just to keep these miserable, cowardly arseholes out of jail. Marianet and Esgleas should have the good grace to admit what they have done and resign from the National Committee.’ Our protests went unheeded. The file, a big fat one, didn’t go astray; it went straight into the hands of the incoming Minister of Justice, Manuel de Irujo, a deliberate act by Esgleas and Marianet to incriminate Ascaso who, in spite of everything, continued to insist on shouldering responsibility for the smuggling operation.

Ascaso was finally arrested on 12 August as he was preparing to return to Caspe after a CNT plenum of regional committees in Valencia. His arrest coincided with President Azaña’s public announcement of the dissolution of the Council of Aragón. Both the examining magistrate and state prosecutor in the case, Eduardo Ortega y Gasset, knew that Ascaso was innocent of the crime to which he had confessed and urged him to defend his good name and integrity by refusing to take the blame. But Ascaso, loyal comrade that he was, stuck to his confession, claiming the gold and jewels came from the revolutionary committees of Aragón and he, personally, had given them to the two National Committee representative to sell in France to buy much needed agricultural equipment for the Aragón collectives.

The case, however, was dropped and Ascaso was released after 32 days without bail or pending charges. Negrín had achieved his aim: Marianet, Esgleas and the National Committee were now firmly in his pocket. By which time, of course, it was too late to save Aragón. As soon as the August 1937 harvest was in, the Aragón collectives were forcibly dismantled and brutally plundered by Stalinist general Lister’s 11th Division, a pogrom which, shamefully, went unchallenged by any of the CNT’s national and regional committees, who ordered the anarchist columns on the Aragón front that under no circumstance were they to leave their lines to come to the aid of the collectives. The ‘notables’ connived at all this in order to protect their reputation, discredit a challenge to their confederal hegemony, and to bolster their candidacy in return for a Mickey Mouse portfolio in a Stalinist government. The same ‘notables’, especially la señora Montseny, were simply repeating the treacherous and cowardly behaviour they had exhibited during the Communist coup d’état in Barcelona four months earlier, in May 1937, when they called on the militants to abandon the barricades and give up their weapons.

But that wasn’t the end of the matter. These ‘notables’, specifically Marianet and Esgleas, spread poisonous rumours that comrades Ascaso and Ortíz had, between them, accumulated a personal fortune in France worth millions — the mythical ‘Treasure of Aragon’. The gold and jewels discovered by the carabineros in Puigcerdá were a drop in the ocean according to the stories they fed to the rumour mills at the time. Little wonder then, with threats growing against them from Negrín’s Communist-led military high command and a coordinated whispering campaign conducted by their alleged comrades on their own National Committee, that Major Antonio Ortíz, Joaquín Ascaso, former president of the Council of Aragón, and nine other members of the 25th Army Division (the militarised Ortíz militia column) escaped into France in the early hours of 5 July 1938, where they surrendered themselves to the Gendarmes in Vic. According to the French police report, the men were starving and none was in possession of weapons, money or valuables. When Farquhar met them in Perpignan the following year none of them had a peseta to his name.

The story circulated by Esgleas and Marianet was that the comrades had

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3:

4:

5:

‘deserted’ their posts and absconded to France with stolen CNT-FAI funds — and they had Ascaso’s ‘confession’ to prove it. Miguel García Vivancos, a vaultingly ambitious ‘comrade’ from the 1920s who had replaced Ortíz as commander of the 25th Division, was among the quickest to denounce them as traitors, ordering his men to shoot them on sight. There was to be no arrest, no hearing, and no trial.

Astonishingly, and with the complicity of all the other members of the National Committee — including, shamefully, Farquhar’s former comrade-in-arms Juan García Oliver — the National Committee issued a ‘capture and kill’ order to the CNT-FAI Foreign Intelligence service, the Servicio de Información y Coordinación (SIC), who sent an eight-man team, led by two psychopaths, José and Justo Bueno Pérez, into France to murder the ‘fugitives’. Ortíz and Ascaso knew too much about Marianet’s and Esgleas’s financial dealings to live. The plan was to poison them with arsenic supplied by the FAI’s Paris representative, Facundo Roca Gascó, and administered, albeit unwittingly, by Durruti’s widow, Mimi, whom they would never have suspected. The plot failed, partly due to the killers’ incompetence, but mainly to the fact that the French police arrested Ascaso and Ortíz on 10 September 1938 and kept them in custody until April 1939, by which time the Spanish Civil War was over. The murder plot also proved expensive for the National Committee, with the would-be killers’ expenses bill exceeding 150,000 pesetas.

Captain Sir Alan Hugh Hillgarth Bt, OBE (a former British consul in Palma), whose job it was to monitor German submarine activity in Spanish waters and German waterfront activity in Iberian ports, was a close friend of both Winston Churchill (he was his personal adviser on Spain and was largely responsible for Britain’s non-intervention policy during the Spanish Civil War) and Juan March, Franco’s banker. It was March’s Foundation that recruited the two pilots, SIS officers Cecil Bebb and Hugh Pollard (a member of the British Union of Fascists) and paid for the Dragon Rapide aeroplane that flew Franco from the Canaries to Tetuán in Spanish Morocco to take command of the Army of Africa. It was also the ubiquitous Hillgarth who arranged the escape to the UK in March 1939 of Colonel Segismundo Casado and other members of the anti-Communist National Defence Council aboard a Royal Navy ship that was sent to collect them from Valencia. Hillgarth was just one of a zealous Catholic, pro-Francoist cabal that operated in the British Foreign Office, the Ministry of Information and the Madrid Embassy under Tom Burns, first secretary and press attaché. Burns, a director of the rabidly pro-Francoist Catholic newspaper The Tablet, and a member of the Catholic Evidence Guild (formed in 1918, the year after the Russian October Revolution), resisted and subverted every allied attempt to overthrow Franco during WWII. In October 1938, at what was for the CNT the crucial national congress of regional committees, one that had been specifically convened to examine the mistakes made by the libertarian movement since 19 July 1936, Esgleas, representing the CNT of Catalonia, was the prime mover in promoting the idea of what was to become the Libertarian Movement Liaison Committee. Within four months, after the fall of Barcelona and the escape to France on 8 February 1939 of CNT general secretary Marianet and Esgleas, this profoundly undemocratic body re-invented itself as the self-appointed General Council of the Spanish Libertarian Movement in Exile. The secretary-general and vice secretary general of this highly secretive group were, respectively, Marianet and Esgleas.

Ironically, Esgleas’s argument — like that of Montseny — was that Franco’s victory had been entirely due to the CNT abandoning its fundamental anarchist

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 principles and collaborating with government, a policy they themselves had lobbied for — and were complicit in — in the period 1936 to 1939. Esgleas’s hostility to the CNT National Committees of the Interior was, he claimed, due to their ongoing collaboration with the socialist UGT union and the political parties represented in the Spanish republican government in Exile, especially after the formation of the Giral government in exile in Mexico in November 1945. It was a stand-off situation that left Esgleas and Montseny together in the enviable position of being the salaried guardians of anarchist orthodoxy, going nowhere politically and answerable to no one.

Esgleas’s refusal to support, financially, the CNT committees in the Interior was an act of sabotage that caused tremendous hardship and suffering, particularly considering the extraordinary humanitarian and prisoner support efforts and the agitational and propaganda work carried out by the seven National Committees in the interior led, sequentially, between April 1939 and July 1945, by Esteban Pallarols, Manuel López López, Celedonio Pérez Bernardo, Eusebio Azanedo Grande, Manuel Amil Barcía and Sigfrido Catalá Tineo. These National Committees organised and supported the guerrilla resistance in the mountains of Ciudad Real, Levante, Galicia, León and Asturias.

By the end of 1947 the organisation in the Interior was more or less in disarray.

With the western democracies clearly not coming to the aid of the Spanish people, Franco’s repressive apparatus had a freer hand to intimidate, torture, imprison and murder with impunity. By April 1948 the sixteenth National Committee of the CNT in Spain had fallen, as had numerous regional, provincial and local committees, with hundreds of comrades arrested, thanks largely to the treachery of confidentes and police infiltrators, some of them in high places in Toulouse.

These brave men and women who, since 1939, had helped ensure the survival of the 60,000 strong organisation in the Interior at the same time as printing and distributing the union’s regularly published clandestine newspapers Solidaridad Obrera and CNT — had not received one single peseta from Esgleas’s emigré organisation.

The anomaly of Esgleas’s situation was that in the post-Liberation election campaign for the post of secretary-general of the CNT in Exile in May 1945, he had been obliged to turn for support to his future victim, Laureano Cerrada Santos, the now wealthy and influential secretary of the Local Paris Federation.

In fact it’s probably fair to say that between 1944 and 1950, Laureano — who, although perhaps not the most prominent anarchist figure in the public realm — was undoubtedly, because of his wealth and influence, the most powerful single individual in the whole of the CNT. Although Cerrada despised Esgleas’s lack of moral fibre, he was, above all, a pragmatist. Esgleas’s and Montseny’s new-found hostility — albeit tactical and opportunist — to collaborating with the bourgeois politicians of the republican government in exile and other anti-Francoist political parties and organisations was what won him over, thereby ensuring the Toulouse leadership of his considerable financial, logistical and political support. For Esgleas it was a Faustian bargain. The price he was to pay for turning a blind eye to Laureano’s extensive illegal commercial operations seriously compromised the CNT’s legal standing in France and put the entire Toulouse leadership at risk. As for Laureano, the price he paid, five years later, in 1950, was expulsion from the union that he held so dear. Ultimately, of course, he paid with his life.

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The winter of 1922–23 was the coldest and most miserable anyone could remember: malnutrition was endemic, food was scarce and expensive. Spain’s agricultural yields were the lowest in Europe.

Despite the country’s enormous area of cultivated land, agricultural methods hadn’t changed since the time of Philip II (d.1598), nor had the big landowners made any capital investment in the land: fertilisers were in short supply, farm equipment was dilapidated, and irrigation poor.

Vast areas of land went untilled while instead of investing in their estates and their workers, the latifundistas — the big landowners — squandered millions in French gambling casinos. Of the 125 million acres of Spain’s arable land, as much as 60 per cent of it was uncultivated while another 10 percent was left fallow. Fifteen men, the grandees, owned nearly a million acres of Spain between them, with 15,000 owning half the country’s taxable land. Two million or so smallholders owned the other half in land parcels too small for subsistence.

Another 2 million landless day-labourers worked 10 to 14 hours a day for 2 pesetas a day — if they were lucky — out of which they paid exorbitant and ever-increasing rents. The hovels they called homes didn’t belong to them, being leased short-term with contracts revocable at the landlord’s whim. Nor did they have security of tenure; jobs were seasonal and lasted, at best, for 6 months of the year.

What surprised me most was the fact that, although Spain’s rural population were profoundly Catholic, the smallholders and daylabourers hated the Roman Catholic clergy much more ardently than did the Orangemen of Ulster and the West of Scotland.

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A few priests shared their parishioners’ hardships and were respected for it, but these were, as I say, few and far between. On the other hand, state-sponsored prelates headed the pecking order — indistinguishable from any other ruling group — parasites slavishly following the stars of the landlords, officers, employers, aristocracy and the monarchy — all of whom voraciously exploited the people for their personal power and profit.

The Roman Catholic Church in Spain wielded enormous power, temporal as well as spiritual, working hand-in-glove with the magistrates, police, Guardia Civil and the local landowners to contain and repress all manifestations of working-class self-help and organisation. There was not one aspect of cultural and moral life they did not control — education, censorship and marriage — while in the political sphere, bishops and archbishops sat in the upper chamber scrutinising and filtering every piece of legislation that might conceivably erode their jealously guarded powers.

Little wonder then that the appalling social injustices and structural violence that permeated everyday life for the common people in Spain should push some of us into committing desperate acts of destruction. Much of the popular anger and frustration manifested itself as anticlericalism, especially in the widespread proclivity for sacking and burning churches.

On 2 January I was in the La Naval union hall in Barceloneta reporting on a meeting of the Catalan Regional Committee for Solidaridad Obrera. We had been discussing how to win back disaffected former cenetistas who — desperate to feed, clothe and keep a roof over the heads of their hungry families — had deserted to the Libre. It was surprising how many well-known and respected former confederal militants had gone over to the other side.

Some had burned out and given up on union activity altogether, but for many of the defectors to the Libres it was only now percolating through to them that they had tied themselves into an employers’ union that did nothing to protect their wages, conditions —or jobs. As a result, the Libres were losing members like water from a sieve — 25,000 by our reckoning. Many of these had returned or wanted to return to the CNT, something the Libres leaders weren’t happy about, which was why there had been such a steep rise in the number of pistolero murders of CNT activists over the previous few months.

The atmosphere in the hall that night was optimistic, very different from the state-of-siege mood that had prevailed before Christmas. The tide seemed to be running our way for a change.

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Another topic on the agenda that evening was the organisation of the key manufacturing industries in the self-managed, post-revolutionary society we were working towards. Study groups were set up to look at the different types of cooperatives needed to run each industry, protecting the interests of both the producers and the consumers.

The Woodworkers’ Union announced it would sponsor an evening university for workers and their families. The tenor of the debate was very much in line with Salvador Seguí’s ideas on building a parallel society within the shell of the old. Most compañeros liked and admired Seguí enormously, but we found it difficult to come to terms with his post-prison view that insurrection was no longer possible, or viable, and that working-class interests could now only be advanced by negotiation and compromise with the state and capitalist employers, a view that didn’t sit well with many of us in the groups.

Seguí wasn’t suggesting that we should change our objectives — only the means of achieving our ends. Seguí’s strategy would, we felt, lead ultimately to the CNT being absorbed into the system and end up strengthening capitalism. We weren’t interested in creating a parallel society that might or might not someday displace capitalism; our focus had to be on doing away with the terrible economic and social injustices of the system, and ending the privileges of the old society —and doing it right here and right now. Our immediate objective was social revolution and libertarian communism —and that wasn’t going to be achieved through protest demonstrations or parliament. As far as Spain’s great and good were concerned, anything that benefited the workers meant losses for the bosses.

I was at the back of the hall taking notes when someone tapped me on the shoulder; a man I didn’t recognise thrust a piece of paper into my hand. As I looked down to read the scrawled and barelylegible note, he turned and hurried away.

It was a threat: ‘If “El Noi del Sucre” speaks tonight he is a dead man.’ The note was signed ‘El Grupo Fecundidad’, whoever they were.

I waved to Medin Martí, one of the comrades from my ‘Madrid trip’, who was on security duty by the door, and showed him the note, which he read with interest, but little apparent concern. Seguí had received many similar anonymous threats over the past few weeks, which was a measure of the extent to which his enemies in the patronal and elsewhere considered him a danger.

Seguí spoke without incident that evening on a whole range of subjects, and received his usual standing ovation.

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we met up afterwards in a bar across the road with Jaume el Pelau and Ramón Espinalt, the other two comrades from the Madrid trip. Espinal was still upset about what had happened to Pestaña in Manresa. He had organised the talk and felt personally responsible for that day’s events. Determined not to let the matter rest, he was out for revenge on the would-be murderers, come what may.

But, Manresa’s Libres were keeping their heads down. Quimet, the well-informed owner of the Bar Kursaal — an anarchist fellow traveller — told Espinalt that the pistoleros were still flocking to Zaragoza under the protection of the civil governor and José Romero Soldevilla, the cardinal archbishop of Zaragoza who was recruiting the pistoleros with a view to a new employers’ offensive aimed at breaking the ‘Godless CNT’ —which was particularly strong in Zaragoza —and building up the Catholic unions.

I was sharing a rented room above a bar in the Carrer Cadena with two Soli editors, Liberto Callejas and Irenofilo Diaro. The bar was leased to a chef by the name of Narciso, a compañero who had taken it on after the collapse of the big waiters’ strike in 1919. We ate there as well — three times a day, our meals being included in the rent —and slept on fold-away camp beds during the day.

I was working for an engineering firm in Barceloneta as a toolmaker, but most evenings I spent translating and writing for Solidaridad Obrera’s international news section. Soli’s editorial offices had moved to no. 58 Conde del Asalto (now the Nou de la Rambla), in the heart of the Fifth District, which for some reason was now referred to in the press as China Town, the barri Xino. I was also helping out at Crisol!, but that was much less demanding work.

It was at Soli’s office in Asalto that I met, of all people, Albert Einstein, the great theoretical physicist who was visiting Barcelona on a lecture tour sponsored by Esteve Terradas, an engineer, CNT sympathiser and a prominent Gran Oriente freemason. Terradas, an enthusiastic supporter of the rationalist schools, had brought Einstein from Berlin to give a series of lectures on his recently published and much talked about theory of relativity.

Einstein arrived with his wife, Elsa, in late February, and because he wasn’t such a celebrity in those days, not many people knew he was in town until the posters appeared announcing his lectures at the Syndicalist Athenaeum in the Carrer Mercader and the Sants Rationalist Athenaeum in the Carrer Vallespir.

The city fathers and ‘men of order’ were appalled when they learned that the great physicist was hob-nobbing with anarchists and 208

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cenetistas. That wasn’t all. He had booked himself into a dilapidated old pensión, the Grand Hotel of the Four Nations — Le Quatre Nations — at No 35 Las Ramblas, on the corner of Escudellers and the Plaça del Teatro. The city fathers tried to move him to the Ritz, but Einstein would have none of it, insisting that he preferred to remain where he was. When I asked him what was so special about that particular hotel, he said he specifically wanted to stay there, because it was where Michael Bakunin had lodged in 1869, just prior to the Lyons uprising and the Paris Commune. Einstein was an admirer of Bakunin and had specifically asked for the Russian anarchist’s old room. I wonder what his wife made of the hotel, or the room; it hadn’t changed much in the intervening fifty years — not that his wife’s opinions appeared to matter much to him.

Einstein’s first port of call after checking in at the Quatre Nations was to the Soli office where he found me writing my column. In he walked, unexpected and unannounced, asking to speak to Ángel Pestaña. At first I didn’t know who he was and assumed, because of his violin case and dishevelled appearance, that he was a street or café musician, a busker. He was in his mid-forties at the time, but even then he had an air of permanent distraction — other-worldliness — about him. He wore a shabby brown woollen suit with a cardigan, a white shirt with a high plastic collar and a red tie topped by a mop of tousled, unruly brown hair that stuck out in all directions making him look as though someone had stuck a live 2,000 volt electrode up his arse. His hair was already greying at the temples and roots — as was his droopy moustache, and his round, cheery face bore an expression of permanent, pleasant surprise; and his eyes shone with mischief and humour.

‘Salud!’ he said, seizing my hand warmly with both hands. ‘Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Albert Einstein and I, too, am a revolutionary, an anti-authoritarian: I am the original valiant and fearless Swabian. You, the anarchists and anarcho-syndicalists, of the CNT are also valiant Swabians, revolutionaries of the streets; I, however, am a new-generation revolutionary operating in the field of quantum physics and I will disprove the reactionary quantum theorists and carry the banner of the quantum revolution into ever-stranger territory and provide the final triumphant synthesis of unified field theory.’

I looked at him blankly, dumfounded, and —I’m embarrassed to admit — all I could think of to say to the great man was: ‘Really?

Fascinating! Would you like some coffee?

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was doing in Barcelona, and offered to take him to the union offices in the nearby Carrer Nou, where we would probably find him. We hit it off really well and chatted away like old friends as we walked. The reason he wanted to meet Pestaña was because his anarchist friends in Berlin —Rudolf Rocker, Fritz Kater and Augustin Souchy —said he was the best person to explain what was happening in Spain.

Einstein was a delight to be with — sympathetic and supportive of everything we were doing. We chatted for hours in Pestaña’s office before heading off for supper. It was a memorable evening, full of little insights into the physical and metaphysical universe — and the man himself.

‘Nice to be somewhere where nobody’s bothered about quantum physics’ was one of his more memorable comments I remember. He loved his sausages and music, in no particular order of preference, so we chose the restaurant we took him to for its chorizo and resident string quartet, which pleased the ‘fearless Swabian’ enormously. As he said, ‘Fine sausages nourish the body and good music nurtures the imagination.’ In fact he was so excited when he saw the restaurant had an orchestra he leaped on to the podium with his violin and pleaded with the musicians to let him join in. What could they say? It didn’t take them long to realise their mistake, but everyone —audience and musicians alike —took his contribution to the evening’s entertainment uncritically and with good humour, and gave him a standing ovation at the end, probably to get him off the stage. His playing was appalling, and he seemed totally oblivious to his lack of musical talent. Einstein may have been able to predict the bending of starlight by the warping of space around the sun, but he was shit on the violin.

Einstein was one of these people with a theory and opinion about everything, not just relativity, but he was never boring or pedantic —even about his pacifism. His conversation was riveting, and he bubbled on passionately about his loathing for state power and all forms of regimentation. ‘Politics,’ he said, ‘is for the present, but our equations are for eternity.’ The only thing he didn’t have a theory about, so far, was what he called einheitliche Fieldtheorie, a unified theory about everything — but he was working on it.

Over dinner he explained how the idea of relativity had come to him. It happened while daydreaming about travelling on a light beam.

He described it as one of his ‘Aha!’ moments, when the ‘little grey brain cells’ suddenly have a breakthrough. ‘Insights explode on you when you least expect them,’ he observed, ‘when you think the brain has given up on the big problem you are wrestling with and you find yourself distracted and thinking of something completely unrelated.’

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Another of those ‘Aha!’ moments led him to apply his theory of relativity to gravity. This particular epiphany occurred one day after lunch as he stared absent-mindedly out of the window of the patent office where he worked. Across the road he saw a slater perched precariously on the roof of a tall building. Suddenly, he had a flashforward of the man falling — and while even though it was a sickening thought that made him panic, at the same time he found himself calculating, incongruously, that until the man hit the ground he would be unaware of his own weight. That moment he described as one of ‘perfect certainty’; an inspired thought that he regarded as the happiest in his life so far. Everything is relative, I suppose.

‘The wider point of the story,’ he said, ‘was that if you feel you have hit an impasse the best way to think of all problems — be they mathematical, scientific, political, ethical, moral or even domestic —is to walk away from them. When it seems you can achieve nothing more, you should find a way of distracting yourself, maybe by walking the dog if you have one. The answer, my friends,’ he concluded triumphantly ‘will arrive when you least expect it and you will see the same old thing in a completely new way. Once that happens, you never go back!’

On 8 March, Pere Foix Cases of the Maritime Workers’ Union and of the Defence Commission — a freemason and a member of the Gran Oriente de España — was approached by a lodge ‘brother’, a liberal member of the Catalan aristocracy (there were a few of these enlightened souls around), who asked him if he could arrange a meeting with representatives of the National Committee of the CNT. He had information to discuss regarding an imminent coup de état.

For months there had been rumblings of discontent among the different sectors of the Spanish oligarchy — from the Catalanist bourgeoisie to the highest levels of the nobility. There were many reasons for this, one of them was Martínez Anido’s failure to crush the CNT. If anything, his brutal repression had strengthened it and radicalised its rank and file and, under Seguí’s leadership —as national secretary — the union’s national membership and influence was increasing, a development that was reflected in the increasing number of CNT-led strikes.

Also, the domestic political situation was growing increasingly uncertain. Almost every day there were scandals of endemic incompetence and corruption in Madrid and in many of the regional administrations. Above all, there was the on-going war against the Rif rebels in Morocco, with the highest echelons of Spain’s ruling classes 211

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nervously awaiting the results of a parliamentary enquiry into culpability for the disastrous handling of the North African campaign.

Pre-publication leaks indicated that the parliamentary report was highly critical of the king’s reckless interference in the North African campaign. Spain’s grandees had convinced themselves that its findings and recommendations would be the final straw that would bring the regime tumbling around them.

To avert this possibility they turned their thoughts to installing their own Benito Mussolini, a ‘caballero on a white horse’, preferably not a Don Quijote-type figure, but someone who would rid Spain of troublesome liberal and socialist interference in the affairs of state and capitalism — and who would remove once and for all the threat of a red menace from an increasingly radicalised and demanding working class. Spain’s reactionary elites feared that Seguí’s change of strategy meant that the union was moving away from anti-parliamentarianism, and that the liberal and socialist parties would benefit from hitherto withheld cenetista votes — to the detriment of their power and privilege. It was a potentially disastrous state of affairs, hence the need to eliminate Seguí and bring in a charismatic leader of their own.

Foix arranged a discreet meeting between his fellow freemason, the Catalan aristocrat, and members of the CNT National Committee — Seguí, Gregori Guerra, Pere Massoni and Foix. The meeting was held in Teresa Aguado’s brothel. Teresa, a madam, had been a close friend of Seguí for years — ever since, as a young man, he had tried to unionise Barcelona’s prostitutes. Seguí often used Teresa Aguado’s premises for confidential meetings when discretion was essential.

When they met, the Catalan aristocrat informed the National Committee members that plans for the military coup were well advanced and that a secret meeting of army officers had recently taken place to discuss murdering Seguí. The Defence Committee was already aware of the proposed coup through its own network of informers and confidential agents in the barracks, but had heard nothing of the plans of Pedro Homs — the secret service agent and former CNT lawyer — to assassinate Seguí.

Seguí’s enemies had him under almost 24-hour surveillance. They were biding their time, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Once they realised, however, that Seguí was in contact with wellplaced liberal elements in the Gran Oriente they decided they could wait no longer.

Homs’s first attempt involved ambushing Seguí outside Teresa Aguado’s brothel, but the plot failed when the ladies noticed suspicious characters lurking in the street outside and chased them 212

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away. Next he turned to the psychopath Inocencio Feced, the former self-styled ‘anarchist’ who was obsessed with Seguí because he had denounced him as a police agent. He often raged that he would kill Seguí if it were the last thing he did.

Feced was in a delicate situation at the time. Despised and hated as he was by both the CNT and the Libres because of his police connections, accepting Homs’ contract on Seguí seemed to be the solution to his problems. Here was an opportunity not only to avenge himself on his sworn enemy, but to earn some money and the chance to win the respect of the Libres. He accepted Hons’s contract and started putting together a team of killers from his network of low-lifes.

The day after his meeting with the freemason, Seguí had union business to attend to in Tarragona, a few miles down the coast. Before leaving he arranged to meet Foix at 7:30 the next evening — the Saturday — in the Workers’ Centre in the Carrer del Olmo to discuss the CNT’s response to these overtures, prior to a further meeting with the freemason on the Sunday.

Seguí originally intended staying overnight in Tarragona, but at the last moment he changed his mind in order to return to Barcelona to attend a benefit concert for political prisoners in the Teatro Cómico del Paral.lel. He was the guest of CNT lawyer Joan Casanovas. After the show, Seguí —who had been advised that Feced and his gang of ne’er-do-wells had been seen hanging around outside, in the Paral.lel — hailed a taxi to take him, his partner Teresa and son, Heleni, back to their flat in the Plaça de la Sagrada Familia in the Ensanche, close to Gaudi’s still-unfinished tower. During the journey home Seguí noticed they were being followed, but said nothing to his partner.

Outside their apartment Seguí hurriedly escorted Teresa and Heleni up the stairs to their front door, making sure they were safely inside before returning to pay the taxi driver — a compañero who refused to take any money from the union leader. The two men talked for a short time, with Seguí’s portly profile clearly visible beneath the sulphurous yellow glow of the street lamps. The taxi driver had also noticed they had been followed and pointed out the car in question to Segui. It was parked fifty or so yards behind them, in the shadows between the street lamps. As they watched, the car’s headlights were switched on, its engine started up, and it drove slowly down the street towards them, almost coming to a standstill as it passed Seguí and the taxi driver. Pale, shadowy faces peered at them through the window for a few long moments before the car accelerated into the darkness.

Back in the flat, Teresa confronted Seguí. She knew something was wrong; he couldn’t hide the threats from her any longer. No one 213

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slept well in the Seguí household with Teresa and Heleni crying most of the night and El Noi unable to console them.

Seguí woke late the next morning, not rising until after one o’clock. The atmosphere around the lunchtime table was tense and fragile. Seguí told Teresa that he was meeting Lluis Companys at the café Tostadero to collect payment for a decorating job he’d done on the lawyer’s apartment. After that he had to pay an outstanding bill for paint and materials, and would then go on to visit his mother, which he did every Saturday. Later, at 7:30, he had his appointment with Pere Foix in the Carrer del Olmo.

Before leaving, he handed Teresa the little money he had, but, in spite of their presentiments of doom, neither she nor Heleni made any attempt to prevent him going. It would have been useless. Standing together at the apartment door they watched him go down the tenement stairs. He turned at the landing and waved to them. It was the last time they saw him alive.

Waiting for him in the street below was Seguí’s young colleague, friend, unpaid secretary and personal assistant, Francisco Comás y Pagés, better known as ‘Perones’. Together the two men walked to the café Tostadero on the Plaça de la Universidad where Companys was expecting them.

The friends chatted, had a few coffees and brandies after which Companys settled up with Seguí for his decorating work, then they played a few frames of billiards, watched particularly closely by one of the waiters, Saleri. His interest wasn’t in the game; it was Seguí he was focusing on. Saleri was an informer, and sometime pistolero employed by Pedro Homs.

Saleri had telephoned Homs the moment Seguí entered the café, and within hal an hour, Feced and his pistoleros were in place around the statue of Dr Robert, which faced the café in the centre of the Plaça de la Universidad. The plan was to kill Seguí as he crossed the square.

From the window, Saleri signalled to Feced with his towel that Seguí was preparing to leave. Unexpectedly, however, the square suddenly filled up with children from the neighbourhood schools; it was their playground. The gunmen were suddenly obliged to change their plans. If Seguí and Comas defended themselves, which they probably would do, and children were killed or injured in the ensuing gunfight, a major scandal would have ensued with who knows what consequences. They decided instead to follow Seguí and Comas until they found a more appropriate location to carry out their dark deed.

Unaware they were being followed, the two anarcho-syndicalists crossed the noisy Plaça de la Universidad, deep in conversation, 214

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heading towards the Carrer dels Tallers in the heart of the Fifth District.

Halfway down the Carrer de Cadena, close to Seguí’s paint supplier, the two men stopped for a carajillo at another of Seguí’s locals, ‘La Trona’. Shortly after seven o’clock they rose from the table, shook hands with the patrón and other customers and strolled out, arm-in-arm, into the now busy street where the gunmen were waiting for them in the surrounding doorways and alleys. As the two friends emerged from the bar, Feced gave the signal. At the corner of the Carrer San Rafael two gunmen their way, while from behind another five men converged on them from their skulking places. Seguí drew his Star, but was too late. Encircled, the two comrades were punched, pushed and pistol-whipped to their knees while Feced subjected them to a torrent of abuse. The short silence that followed was dramatically ended by a single shot followed by a volley that hit the men at pointblank range.

It was 7:15 precisely. Women and children were screaming in terror as the gunshots echoed through the narrow streets. A passer-by, seventy-six-year-old Margarita Miguel, was hit in the thigh by a ricocheting bullet. Neighbours peered out in alarm from windows and doorways to see what was happening.

A Guardia Civil officer appeared unexpectedly and gave chase, but the gunmen scattered and disappeared down sidestreets. None of the killers was ever apprehended.

Seguí died almost immediately, a bullet having severed the carotid artery in his neck. His crumpled body lay in the middle of the street with rivulets of blood oozing from his neck onto the cobbles and into the gutter. Perones, seriously wounded, crawled to a nearby butcher’s shop in the Carrer San Rafael.

‘Asesinos! Asesinos!’ gasped Perones, dragging himself into the shop. Picking him up, the butcher, his assistant, Laureano and Simó Piera carried him to the duty doctor’s surgery in the nearby Carrer Marques de Barberá.

Seguí’s murder happened almost exactly two weeks after Einstein’s visit. It was the evening of 10 March 1923. I remember it as though it were yesterday. The sky was leaden and overcast, and a bitterly cold north wind was blowing down from the Pyrenees. Simó Piera, Laureano, a comrade by name of Josep Gardenyes and myself were chatting in the bar when we heard the gunfire. Through the doorway and window we saw people running along the street, shouting and screaming. Narciso, our landlord, barman and cook, who had been 215

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standing outside on the pavement, rushed in, his eyes wide in horror and disbelief.

‘They have killed Sugar Boy! Shit! It’s the end of everything.’

We were on the scene within minutes. Laureano and Simó Piera ran to help the butcher and his boy carry Perones to the surgery. He was still alive when they got there, but only just. After a perfunctory examination the doctor shrugged his shoulders and said that there was no hope for him, nothing could be done. Enraged by the medic’s couldn’t-care-less attitude, Simó Piera pulled out his pistol and stuck it under the doctor’s nose saying: ‘See to him, or you’re dead!’

The doctor, naturally, then did what he could to stem the bleeding and called for an ambulance to take him to the Hospital de Santa Cruz.

I stayed with Seguí’s corpse in the Carrer de Cadena. Maria Pestaña, Ángel’s partner, who lived close by, rushed to the scene when she heard the shooting, fearing she might find her own husband’s body. When she saw it was Seguí and heard the other victim was Comas, she ran home to fetch a sheet to cover the union leader’s bloody remains.

Segui’s glazed and sightless eyes reflecting the evening sky proved too much for me. Suddenly, I was overcome with grief and I wept for the first time since my childhood. Tears rolled down my face as I closed his eyelids. Even the hardest of the compañeros cried that evening.

No policemen came to examine the murder scene or take witness statements, only an ambulance to take the body to the Hospital Clinico mortuary. An elderly woman, dressed in black, arrived with a small bunch of flowers, which she placed reverentially on the bloody cobblestones. It was Seguí’s friend, Teresa Aguado, the brothel madam.

As word spread, more and more women and young girls arrived with flowers to cover the bloodstained pavement in a last homage to one of the great figures of the CNT. Soon the street was filled with women weeping and wailing piteously while men stood around in small groups on the pavement, talking quietly and brushing away their tears.

It was a very sad occasion.

It was Rafael Vidiella, a comrade, who broke the news of her partner’s death to Teresa. The moment she opened the door she sensed, intuitively, that the worst had happened and burst into tears.

It was the same when they told Comas’s widow.

In spite of all the petty gossip, tittle-tattle and rumour-mongering to which Sugar Boy had been subjected over the years — especially 216

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over the previous few months — most people, even his opponents, held him in high esteem. He was widely loved and respected .

Much of the hostility towards Seguí was due to his willingness to negotiate — or reach some sort of accommodation — with any of the more liberal Catalan employers who were prepared to talk to him. Many in the groups, and the more purist ideologues, felt strongly about his approach, believing it subverted the revolutionary process.

This was the case with particularly querulous comrades like Picos, a cobbler, a one-man Greek chorus who spent his life criticising, berating and denouncing all the prominent militants of the day, especially Sugar Boy. That’s the way Picos was.

Picos was serving a short sentence in the Modelo prison when he heard the news of Seguí’s murder. He had been playing pelota in the prison yard when someone returning from a family visit told him the news. His reaction was extraordinary. His face apparently drained of colour and he turned, walking slowly across the yard, like an automaton, up the stairs to the gallery, then up to the fourth landing, from which he jumped, killing himself immediately. Poor Picos!

Gardenyes, a hard-nosed Catalan who had spent years with the Argentinean gauchos, was another comrade who was particularly fond of Seguí, and often acted as his bodyguard. When Narciso, the barman, told us what had happened he went berserk. It was pitiful to see him running down the street to the scene of the shooting, screaming hysterically. So much emotion and despair! It was humbling to witness the extent that Seguí was venerated by those whose lives he had touched in one way or another.

Some months earlier we had been drinking with Seguí at a pavement table outside the Café Español in the Paral.lel when we were surrounded by a gang of pistol-waving Libres, led by a weaselfaced shit by the name of Parnales.

Aggressive and shouting abuse about the CNT and its members, Parnales bent down and spat in Seguí’s coffee and then in his face.

After more pushing, shoving and shouting abuse the gang backed away, still brandishing their pistols, threatening to shoot anyone who moved.

Gardenyes, a man on a short fuse, was beside himself with rage and refused to let the matter drop. A few days later, he was again sitting outside the Café Español, this time with five comrades, when a passing acquaintance who knew the story said he had just seen Parnales go into a bar in the nearby Carrer Hospital. The cenetistas, armed this time, jumped up and headed off quickly towards Hospital, 217

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catching up with Parnales as he turned the corner. Seizing him by the collar, Gardanyes said: ‘Spit now, you little shit! It’s going to be your last!’ — then he shot him dead.

Unfortunately, hardly had Gardenyes fired the fatal shot when police appeared on the scene and gave chase. The comrades ran up the Carrer Sant Rafael followed closely by their pursuers. One of the comrades, Larrosa, ran into a butcher’s shop and ducked behind the counter, thinking he hadn’t been spotted, but the police had seen him and surrounded the entrance.

Trapped in a shop with no rear exit, Larrosa finally ran out into the street in desperation, guns blazing. By this time, however, the police had been joined by troops, and as he emerged a soldier hiding by the shop doorway slashed him across the neck with his sabre, slicing through his jugular. He bled to death in minutes. Larrosa was the only one caught.

Pere Foix, meanwhile, was one of the few people in Barcelona who hadn’t heard the bad news. Having waited for Seguí for over an hour at their agreed rendezvous in the Olmo workers’ centre, Foix gave up and returned home, irritated by his friend’s failure to show.

As he climbed the tenement stairs, a neighbour told him about the murders that afternoon in the Carrer del Cadena, but he didn’t know the victims’ identities.

Foix had a bad feeling about this news. Seguí was usually reliable and if he were unable to keep the appointment there would have been some good reason, so Foix decided to go to the Soli editorial office, where his friend’s murder was confirmed.

Meanwhile, across Greater Barcelona, emergency meetings of the CNT were taking place to decide how to proceed — and who would take Seguí’s place as national secretary, at least temporarily. It wasn’t going to be easy to find a substitute; there was no one else with his prestige, charisma and influence on the militants. By by the end of that night, however, a new national secretary was appointed: Joan Peiró of the glassmakers’ union. Peiró, one of Seguí’s most loyal and dedicated supporters, was physically similar to him in lots of ways —including age and experience. But in spite of his intelligence and undoubted organisational abilities, Peiró lacked Seguí’s charm and leadership qualities.

There were witnesses to the Carrer de Cadena killings. Passers-by, including comrades, had seen the gunmen prior to, during the incident, or running from the murder scene. They all identified Inocencio Feced as being among them. Another of Seguí’s killers was 218

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recognised: Manuel Simón, a former cenetista. After the emergency Defence Committee meeting a few hours later, a group of us hurried to Simón’s flat, and managed to detain him as he was leaving his tenement building, a suitcase in his hand. He was clearly planning to be away for some time.

One of the compañeros had a small engineering workshop nearby so we took him there for questioning. Simón was terrified, and with good reason; he knew how deeply loved Seguí had been, and how much anger his murder had generated —and the extent to which police informers and pistoleros were hated and despised.

Tying him hand and foot to a chair we dragged him to face the open hatch of a blazing foundry furnace, the clear implication being that he was literally going straight to the bad fire. Unlike Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, however, there wouldn’t be any angel in there to extricate him. I’m not sure if what we did to him that night could be described as torture or even enhanced interrogation, but he certainly receiving a roasting and an awful lot of abuse and hard slaps.

Although he admitted being in the Carrer de Cadena that afternoon, Simón insisted, however, that he hadn’t taken part in the murders. His role, he claimed, was to follow the two men and keep them under surveillance until the gunmen arrived. We couldn’t disprove his version of events, but those who knew Simón said this sounded a likely scenario. So, with a promise that nothing would happen to him provided he worked for the Defence Committee as a double agent and kept us informed of everything his paymasters were up to, we promised to spare him.

Manuel Simón told us everything he knew. Seguí’s killers weren’t run-of-the-mill Libres thugs. Pedro Homs had planned the murder to make it look like a settling of accounts in a union turf war. The man behind the contract to kill Seguí was Félix Ángel Grauperá, the integrist president of Barcelona’s patronal, who was apparently acting on behalf of other unnamed people at the heart of the king’s inner court circle. According to Simón, the other members of the killer gang were Inocencio Feced, Carlos Baldrich, Amadeu Buch, Juan Torrens — and, of course, the waiter Saleri from the El Tostadero café-bar on the Plaça Universidad.

Next day’s newspapers carried the grisly details of Seguí’s murder. Even the Libres paper Unión Obrera grudgingly agreed that the Spanish labour’ movement had lost a great man. Surprisingly, its editorial affirmed that Seguí had not been involved in any way in ‘terrorism’ and that he had done everything in his power to steer the CNT away from acts of violence. Even so, they couldn’t resist one last 219

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poisonous jibe, claiming that he was a police informer, a charge that did little honour to them, and an accusation that was never proved and that no one else repeated.

Fearing riots and disorder, the civil governor ordered that Seguí’s remains should be buried, secretly, the following Monday. Not even his partner, Teresa, or his son, Heleni, were to be told about the arrangements. At four o’clock that afternoon the Barcelona police removed his remains from the mortuary and took them in secret to Montjuic cemetery. The cemetery director, however, refused the police entry until the family had been advised and authorised the burial.

Insisting that Teresa should not be present — women didn’t usually attend funerals in those days, not even in Scotland — the authorities compromised and allowed her brother, Dr Muñater, an old friend of Seguí’s, and his son, Heleni, to attend the interment. Before his body was placed in the family niche, Dr Muñater asked for the coffin to be opened, but the sight of his dead father proved so traumatic for Heleni that he ran from the cemetery in tears.

When the Catalan Regional Committee of the CNT learned of the secret burial it called a general strike for the Wednesday to prevent the authorities from doing the same with the remains of Francesc Comas.

Feelings were running high, especially within the groups. Joan Peiró, the new national secretary, was well aware of the extent of our anger, and knew that the comrades would be pressing for counter actions, but in his view reprisals would only escalate the violence and ,consequently, called for a period of calm deliberation.

The authorities were nervous. They too feared the consequences. That night, the Special Brigade raided workers’ centres across Barcelona, closing down the many protest meetings that were taking place. A police raid at the San Pablo Woodworkers Union hall ended in a gunfight, with wounded on both sides when the workers refused to disperse. This, in turn, triggered yet more street warfare as Libres and CNT militants attacked each other’s locals and bars across the city.

The general strike began on the Wednesday morning with a protest demonstration to demand a public funeral for Francesc Comas.

At the appointed hour, tens of thousands of workers flooded into the Plaça de Catalunya until the square could no longer hold them all, and the crowds spread out, filling the adjoining side streets.

The massive procession made its way in impressive silence down the Ramblas and along the Paseo Colón, stopping outside Government House where a delegation consisting of Pere Comás, Francesc’s elder brother, and José Alberola, the rationalist teacher, 220

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asked to speak to the civil govenor, Salvador Raventós. The governor couldn’t very well refuse to meet the delegation given the highly charged situation and the large numbers of angry people milling around outside his office. He tried to gloss over the government’s hurried burial of El Noi del Sucre with feeble excuses, claiming among other things that the family hadn’t claimed the body. But there was no way he could deny El Perones the public funeral that his family and the CNT insisted on.

Finally, the civil governor relented and gave his permission for the funeral to take place the following Sunday, on the understanding that there would be no further incidents and that the CNT would call off its general strike. The groups, however, were a law unto themselves and no one could give any assurances as regards to any actions they may undertake, but Comas and Alberola agreed to put the governor’s conditions to the demonstrators in the street outside.

The governor’s terms met with a roar of approval and the crowd soon dispersed, many to return to work now the strike had been called off, and there were no further incidents, violent or otherwise, during the remainder of that week.

Even so, Spain’s ruling elites were still convinced that it was only a matter of time before the workers took to the streets and began errecting barricades. The king convened an urgent meeting with General Primo de Rivera, the captain-general of Catalonia, as did the National Committee of the Librea.

Meanwhile, the charade that was the police investigation into Seguí’s death focused exclusively on the anarchist movement and on rank-and-file CNT militants, hundreds of whom were brought in for questioning. As far as the police were concerned, Seguí’s murder was an internal settling of accounts between anarchists. They even issued a ludicrous press statement to the effect that those responsible were from from the metalworkers’ union. The result was that Seguí’s and Comas’s deaths were never properly investigated and all the anarchist ‘suspects’ were released without charge.

Feced, meanwhile, was panicking. Homs had promised him immunity from arrest, but now his name was being bandied about as the prime suspect across the front pages of the national press.

According to Pestaña, who pursued him relentlessly in editorial after editorial, Feced had written threatening letters to people in high places, ‘advising’ them to ensure he wasn’t arrested and charged with the crime, implying that he knew enough of their shameful secrets to bring them down with him should he ever be charged. His alibi witness for the evening in question turned out to be Libres president 221

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Ramón Sales who gave a statement to the examining magistrate about the events of that evening, Nothing further was heard of Feced’s role in the murder.

El Perones’ funeral took place on a cold Sunday morning on 18 March 1923. Outside the Hospital Clínico over 200,000 people gathered in the streets, from every walk of life, to accompany the flower-covered coffin across the city to the union leader’s last resting place in the Hospitalet de Llobregat cemetery. Joan Peiró delivered the eulogy, again urging cenetistas not to seek revenge.

But Peiró’s appeals fell on deaf ears, especially when the pistoleros renewed their campaign of violence with the murder of another highly esteemed cenetista, Joan Pey, treasurer of the Woodworkers’ Union, shot dead in cold blood as he bent to drink from the Puentaferrisa fountain.

Pey, a Seguí supporter, was hostile to the CNT defence groups.

Simón, our informer, later told us it wasn’t Libres gunmen who killed him, but Beltrán and Puente, two Jaimistas —Carlist followers of Don Jaime de Borbón and members of the Sometent working for Juan Pedro Torrens and Pedro Mártir Homs. Three people were targeted that day, but only Pey turned up. The killers were identified by cenetista Adolfo Bueso who saw them run past after the murder.

Perhaps the main consequence of Salvador Seguí’s murder was that many of the ‘moderates’ within the CNT — those who had abandoned the idea of revolution in favour of negotiating with management —lost heart, credibility and the moral high ground to the radical militants, especially Los Solidarios, who by this time were the model for most of the country’s action groups.

With even the most orthodox and passive of union members outraged and powerless in the face of Seguí’s murder, it was pointless for anyone to argue the case for peaceful negotiation with bosses who employed vigilantes and mercenaries to murder such outspoken opponents of violence and champions of compromise as Salvador Seguí and Joan Pey. How could any self-respecting union representative engage in discussion with people who weren’t prepared to meet them on the level of rational negotiation? The employers and the state’s enforcers had placed themselves beyond the pale of morality and had to be resisted, as criminals, with the only means available to the powerless — the Star!

To most cenetistas, Seguí personified the Organisation, and was held in high esteem by workers and intellectuals alike —as well as by many of the affinity and defence group activists.

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Sensing the likely consequences of Seguí’s murder, many comrades left the union around this time —afraid or depressed at the prospect of the Organisation being sucked into a spiral of violence and repression. They turned instead to private pursuits. And, although they may never have been described as ‘revolutionaries’, they did tend to be the best equipped intellectually. It was a serious loss to the union. Most of those who remained were, obviously, more committed, and many were direct-action-oriented younger men who remained focused on the idea of social revolution and libertarian communism, but who were dismisssed, contemptuosly, as ‘irresponsibles’ by social democrats and pro-Bolsheviks such as Andrés Nín and Maurín.

We didn’t see it like that. Young and inexperienced we may have been, but most of my fellow group members were among the bravest, the most selfless and the most idealistic people in the Organisation: ordinary workers and exemplary human beings; men and women with a deep sense of justice and fairness who were prepared to sacrifice themselves and stick their heads above the parapets, in the factory committees, in the unions — and in the streets.

The motives for killing Sugar Boy were legion. Despite his ‘moderation’, as far as the employers and the Libres were concerned, Seguí was first and foremost an anarcho-syndicalist — and the main obstacle to doing a deal with the CNT. To the oligarchs he was ‘public enemy number one’ and, as such, had to be eliminated. Every attempt by the Libres to suborn the union leader and convince him of the need for a pact had failed miserably.

Only the week before Seguí’s murder, the employers paid a halfwit by the name of Blas Marín to kill the union leader, but he botched the job by taking a pot-shot at him from across the street— in the Carrer Mendizabal —and missing. After that fiasco, the patronal called in their principal hitman — Pere Martír Homs.

Members of the king’s circle were also implicated, motivated as they were by Seguí’s anti-Moroccan War campaign. The tireless union leader had toured the country, north to south, east to west, openly blaming the king and his cabal for the disastrously incompetent military campaign to protect Spanish capitalist interests and mining monopolies in North Africa.

Three weeks earlier I had been present at one of Seguí’s anti-war rallies in a Manresa cinema where he delivered a powerful and damning speech denouncing Alfonso XIII and the politico-military mafia responsible for the massacre the previous August at Anual, in Morocco, where at least 14,000 badly led and ill-equipped Spanish 223

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soldiers had been slaughtered fighting a small but highly effective force of Moorish liberation fighters of the Rif tribes, led by Professor Abd-elKrim al Khattabi.(1) Seguí’s on-stage persona was spine-stiffening. A spellbinding and charismatic public speaker, his audiences were left in no doubt as to who the real culprits of Anual were, swearing he would not rest until those responsible for the calamitous Moroccan war were brought to justice. I remember thinking to myself at the time: ‘Yes, if they don’t kill you first!’

Our problem was money — we didn’t have any. Saturdays were paydays, but, regular as clockwork, the police arrested any comrades found collecting union dues from members as they left work, confiscating all the money in their possession. The situation was intolerable. Subscriptions were our only source of funds, apart from the income generated by sales of Solidaridad Obrera and other publications.

Our militants were the only resources we could call on.

For security reasons, the Defence Committee found itself obliged to relocate to Manresa, a provincial Catalan town with less poisonous internal factionalism, and fewer personal power struggles than in Barcelona; it was also more or less clear of Libres gunmen. The main threat to the CNT now came from the pro-Bolshevik cenetistas in our own ranks, Marxists like Andrés Nín and Joaquín Maurín, who were determined to seize control of the CNT’s regional and national committees and turn it into a party-political power base for themselves, and perhaps also for the Spanish Communist Party, the PCE. Exploiting Seguí’s memorial service as a pretext, the Defence Committee called an extraordinary and secret meeting of representatives from all the confederal defence groups in the country. With comrades from all over Spain in town to pay their respects to Seguí, it presented the ideal opportunity to bring everyone together without arousing too much suspicion.

Under the pretext of a picnic, the meeting was held the day before the memorial service on the small island of Sant Adria de Besos, near the mouth of the river Besos, just east of Barcelona. García Oliver, Laureano and I attended with both our union and our Los Solidarios hats on. The sole item on the agenda was halting the pistolero campaign. The union, facing the repression on its own, was within a gnat’s whisker of disappearing.

The outcome of the Besos meeting was an agreement to set up an executive action committee —a clandestine and conspiratorial planning body with the full authority and backing of the national and regional 224

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committees —and with recourse to the few funds the Organisation had at its disposal. Its unlikely executive consisted of Ángel Pestaña, Joan Peiró, Camilo Piñon and Narciso Marco, none of whom could be described as ‘men of action’, or even sympathetic to the groups. They were ‘moderates’, bureaucratic pessimists who had previously distanced themselves from the groups’ actions, mostly by ignoring us, and who believed the impetus for social revolution had not yet the necessary popular support.

At the meeting they gave the impression of sharing our goals and interests, but I couldn’t help thinking this had more to do with selfinterest than principle. No doubt this reflected my cynicism, but their change of heart towards the action groups and defence cadres was clearly linked to the fact that their own lives were now in danger. If Seguí could be murdered, what chance did they stand? The police certainly wouldn’t protect them.

There was no argument as to what was required; it was a question of survival. There could be no compromise —no surrender! The plan this time was to target the sponsors of pistolero terrorism —the head honchos themselves.

Laureano and I were asked to liaise between the defence cadres and the Executive Committee, who insisted on final approval on all actions undertaken by the groups. Pestaña also asked us to go with him to Valencia to attend a national meeting of regional CNTs, to try to convince the local militants that they should commit their meagre resources to supporting the anti-pistolero campaign.

The committee’s role was to authorise and coordinate the purchase of arms, ammunition and explosives, find the money to fund the various on-going operations. Most of us had Stars but we were thinking ahead to a possible insurrectionary general strike for which we would need substantial arms caches at strategic locations across the whole of Spain.

Juan García Oliver — an anarcho-bolshevik of the first order, for whom revolutionary army building had become something of an obsession, having seen the success of the recent IRA campaign in Ireland —was constantly pressing for what he called a strategy of ‘revolutionary gymnastics’ — basically, assault teams undertaking spontaneous and improvised insurrectionary actions.

The Barcelona Town Hall wages snatch was a particularly audacious ‘expropriation’, and a bit of a coup for the Los Solidarios group. It was my second wages snatch with Los Solidarios; our first had been a successful 300,000-peseta jobbie in March, at the head office of La Tabacalera Española, the government tobacco monopoly.

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Six of us took part in the town hall robbery. Commandeering a horse-drawn refuse cart, we blocked off the junction of the Carrer Fernando and the Ramblas, releasing the horse from the shaft as the wages van approached. As it braked to a halt, Durruti leaped onto the running board on the driver’s side, while I jumped on the passenger side, ordering the driver and two guards out at gunpoint — which they compied with without a struggle.

As Durruti and Laureano watched over the driver and guards, Gregorio Martínez, ‘El Toto’, Gregorio Suberviela, Garcia Oliver and I forced open the rear door of the wages van and began throwing the heavy cash bags into the boot of our getaway car. A bemused crowd gathered, watching us like spectators around a snake oil salesman — but they were more curious than threatening. Armed robberies in the street were still unusual at the time, but with so many people milling around anything could have happened, so we hurried to get the money loaded before amusement turned to panic or someone tried to be a hero.

Although it seemed like an eternity, the whole operation only took a matter of minutes. Once the money-bags were safely loaded into the car we drove off at high speed, tyres screeching, through the barri Xino, desperately trying to manoeuvre through the mass of pedestrians, barrows, carts and cars jamming its bustling, narrow back streets.

Amazingly, we didn’t crash or hit anyone. It was an exhilarating, euphoric and unforgettable experience.

That evening we met up in García Oliver’s apartment in Escudellers to count the proceeds, which came to a little over 100,000 pesetas. It wasn’t as good a haul as the Tabacalera job, but it was still a tidy sum.

Durruti had to leave early to catch the last train to Madrid where he was due to take part in an Anarchist Congress. As previously agreed by everyone involved he was given 10,000 pesetas as a contribution to the defence fund for the comrades charged with the Dato assassination, whose trial was then taking place in Madrid.

Money was also set aside to help with the print costs of our fortnightly magazine, Crisol!, which was published by Francisco Ascaso, and jointly edited by Felípe Alaiz and Liberto Callejas. The balance —all of it — was handed over to the Defence Committee for the prisoners’ fund; we kept nothing back for ourselves.

On reflection, I think my life slipped into another gear after that robbery. Amazingly, my luck was still holding and I hadn’t yet, as far as anyone knew, been identified as being involved in any of the robberies, but I saw it was only a matter of time before the Special Brigade began kicking my door down.

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Events were moving quickly beyond my control. I had no idea how much the police already knew about me, if anything, but it wouldn’t be long before some confidente mentioned my name in connection with Los Solidarios. Slowly but surely I was being drawn deeper into a life of illegality and clandestinity, and there didn’t seem much I could do — or if I even wanted to — to change things. I thrived on the excitement and the adrenalin, an almost religious sense of self-contained and absolute certainty that what we were doing — fighting injustice, unfairness and ignorance, and how we were doing it —was the right thing to do. I have absolutely no doubt that it was, and I still believe that I played my part in the struggle between good and evil, and that ultimately, somehow, it made a difference. It was these actions and beliefs that gave meaning to my existence.

Rafael Torres Escartín — the pastry chef at the Ritz Hotel — belonged to a group calling themselves Los Escombraires, all of whom were Ritz employees — chefs, bell-boys and silver service waiters. Because of their jobs, these comrades were uniquely wellinformed on the reactionary characters who constituted Catalonia’s high bourgeoisie and power-brokers. To a large extent, their politicisation was due to having waited patiently and politely on the tables of Barcelona’s abusive ‘great and good’, in the belly of the beast itself.

Escartín and the Escombraires pulled off a truly spectacular attack on the Barcelona headquarters of the Carlist Requeté, the ideological backbone of the paramilitary Sometent and the Libres pistoleros. The vicious fat-cats who survived the attack would have been horrified to learn that under the red and black bandanas of the men plundering their offices in the Carrer de Puertaferrisa were the same men who had prepared and served them lunch earlier that day.

At least four were killed — and a dozen more were wounded.

The success of this action rekindled our enthusiasm, and a few days later Los Solidarios and the Los Escombraires joined forces to attack the Hunters’ Club — a ‘gentlemen’s club’ where Barcelona’s top pistolero captains hob-nobbed with the city’s industrialists and merchant adventurers. Around fifteen of us met near the entrance at 9:00 in the evening. Covering our faces with bandanas, we stormed through the carved mahogany doors of the stately club and fanned out around the building, waving our Stars and bursting into dining rooms and drawing rooms firing at the ‘suited-and-booted’ as we went. I can’t remember how many we hit that night, but it certainly put the fear of God into them.

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Towards the end of March, we discovered that one of our top targets, the notorious gunman Joan Laguía Literas, Sales’s right-hand man, was living undercover in Manresa. Laguía was deeply implicated in Seguí’s murder and we knew from our informants that he had also been involved in the assassination attempt on Pestaña in Manresa.

Also, a couple of days earlier, Laguía’s men had murdered two local CNT Water, Gas, and Electricity Union organisers.

Laguía was lodging in a Jesuit seminary in town, and spent his evenings playing cards in the back room of the Bar Alhambra, a venue owned by a local Sometent leader. A few days after we received this information, Francisco Ascaso, García Oliver, Laureano and I caught the mid-morning train to Manresa where we were met by two local comrades, Juan Figueras and Francisco Roig of the local CNT Fabric and Textile Workers’ Union, who took us to an apartment where we rested for a few hours before heading off to check out the seminary where Laguía was staying. En route they pointed out the Bar Alhambra where he had his base. Laguía, they said, always had at least three bodyguards with him.

Around 8:00 that evening, Juan and Francisco dropped us outside the Bar Alhambra, then parked round the corner, at the end of the back alley to cover our escape.

Inside the bar we sat at a table near the door and ordered a bottle of tinto from the waiter. The room was relatively empty of people, but the tension was tangible. The barman was clearly suspicious of us, as were the waiters and the few customers scattered around the smoke-filled room. Strangers clearly weren’t welcome.

Ignoring the hostile looks, we drank, smoked, chatted and played cards while waiting for Laguía to make an appearance. After an hour or so, a door opened at the far end of the room and a fat, sullen, ba’faced man in rolled-up shirt-sleeves, with a cigarette dangling from his lower lip, stuck his head out and shouted for a bottle of vermouth and a round of jamón sandwiches.

At that point Ascaso gave me the nod. As the waiter prepared their order, I walked to the front door, as though taking a breath of fresh air, but with a firm grip on the butt of my Star in my jacket pocket. Laureano went to the bar to order more drinks, his gun in readiness in his jacket pocket in case the bar-staff attempted to interfere.

As the waiter carried the tray to the back room, García Oliver and Francisco Ascaso moved quickly and silently behind him in what looked like a seamlessly choreographed move. Suddenly, both men produced their automatics, one in each hand, pushed past the waiter 228

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as he opened the door and burst into the room, guns blazing. It was over in less than a minute —but a long minute —at the end of which Laguía, Barcelona’s ‘man of order’, and three of his accomplices were dead on the bar-room floor.

Among the victims was Lorenzo Martínez, the deputy chairman of the Libre in Manresa, who also figured prominently in the Pestaña murder plot. The other two were Eduardo Folcz and a man named Pons, both known pistoleros.

The firing stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Ascaso and García Oliver backed out of the room while Laureano and I covered their retreat, following them through the kitchen door at the rear, into the alleyway where Juan and Francisco were waiting to drive us directly to Barcelona in the back of a borrowed fruit-and-veg van.

Laguía’s death provoked a massive backlash from the Libres pistoleros. One waiter claimed he recognised García Oliver and Ascaso, which prompted Sales’s hit squads to scour Barcelona for them, determined to take their revenge. Laureano, who was quite short, had somehow been mistaken for Durruti, and the newspapers carried stories claiming that the big man from León had been there that night.

Fortunately, no one mentioned ‘the wee man frae Govan’, not that I was all that wee. To add salt to their wounds, the day after the Manresa shooting, a dozen Solidarios raided the Libres headquarters in the Carrer de Sacristans, next to the cathedral, in an attempt to find documentary evidence proving collusion between the Libre, the government and the patronal.

Meanwhile, the CNT’s ‘influential leaders’ — Camilo Piñon and Joan Peiró — were refusing to approve any pre-emptive actions by CNT defence cadres against the Libres without documentary proof of collusion —even though they had been picking off our best militants like flies. Unfortunately, if there was any proof they didn’t find any.

The killing of a prominent and well-protected gangster like Laguía, coming so soon after the audacious Hunters’ Circle action, sparked even greater panic among employers and Libres leaders, and frightened off a lot of other gunmen, especially after a series of attacks by members of another defence group on the Libres Water Workers’ Union. That triggered more reprisals. The gunfights grew bloodier and more intense with seven major incidents over two days.

While the more influential and better-placed of the country’s café society gangsters and their patrons were now receiving 24-hour police protection, some fled to France, while others moved to Zaragoza under the protection of the pistoleros’ patron, the powerful Cardinal Archbishop of Zaragoza, Juan Soldevilla Romero.

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Soldevilla’s influence wasn’t confined to Zaragoza and Aragón, His pernicious ecclesiastical writ extended across the length and breadth of Spain. Like Martínez Anido and Arlegui, he was obsessed with the CNT, genuinely believing the union to be an agency of Satan.

The murderous activities of his pistoleros, on the other hand, were the work of God. Hardly a Sunday went by without Soldevilla issuing a new pastoral letter designed to induce stygian nightmares of imminent apocalyptic violence among the credulous, urging the authorities to use extreme measures against the labour agitators of the sindicato único. One of his letters, issued in July, reeked of paranoid selfjustification; it was an ominous reminder to the faithful that failing to follow God’s commands would ensure their own eternal damnation: The suffering of a nation at a particular point of its history is no caprice: it is spiritual punishment, the punishment that God imposes upon a distorted life, an unclean history.

Nor was this warrior of Christ the King willing to accept neutrality in what he insisted was the final gruesome battle between Christ and the forces of the Antichrist. To anyone prepared to listen his mantra was: Send the neutrals to prison, that will soon sort them out!

The Manresa affair was an important staging post in my life. By this time I suppose I was in a near permanent state of apprehension, paranoia — but I thrived on it. One of the downsides, however, was that it was changing my hitherto easy-going personality into something darker.

Psychologically, this was bad for me, or maybe it was just bad karma, but the low-level paranoia it induced definitely helped me survive, by allowing me to develop and hone a sixth sense that allowed me to avoid the traps set by the pistoleros and other ‘pieces of work’ later in life as well.

With high political tension and open class warfare on the streets and in the factories, we in the groups felt certain that we were on the threshold of a genuinely revolutionary situation. It was one of those pivotal periods in history when fundamental change appears to be irresistible. The new society we had talked about for so long now seemed to be within our grasp, and we were more determined than ever to seize the moment and overcome our immediate enemy, the Libres. It was a life or death struggle — the parasites or us, the more resistant and defiant of their prey.

None of us took to violent action lightly, or displayed what I 230

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would describe as psychopathic personality traits —if such things are truly quantifiable. We held long and heated debates among ourselves about morality and ethics, and the whys and wherefores of what we were doing. It was a time of feverish political emotions and we were facing a truly ruthless, intolerant, greedy, exploitative gene-damaged elite of capitalists, autocrats, rentiers and landlords, all of whom were capable of the most terrible acts of cruelty in order to destroy the union and to retain the power and privilege they believed was rightfully theirs.

While our enemies were ruthless, we always tried to do the right thing in terms of upholding natural justice, distinguishing between what we felt to be the legitimate and proportionate use of violence in self-defence and the tactics of indiscriminate terror as practised by the pistoleros —whose random and targeted acts of violence were directed against the working class and intended to kill, maim and instil fear and terror in the population at large.

Even so, I have to admit that what we were doing was emotionally exciting, providing an extraordinary adrenalin boost, as well as an escape valve for all our pent-up anger and frustration.

The ‘extremists of the centre’, compañeros such as Piñon, Pestaña and Peiró, regarded our actions as hindering and subverting their reformist strategies or, worse still, serving the darker political interests of the ruling class. They were also concerned, and rightly so, that, because of their public status, as high-profile anarcho-syndicalists, our actions substantially increased their chances of being targeted by Libres or state pistoleros in tit-for-tat killings.

But as far as we were concerned, we were happy to target any reactionary members of the ruling class — and their lackeys. Topping the list, however, were Severiano Martinez Anido; General Arlegui; exminister Bagallal; the Conde de Coello; José Regueral, Governor of Bilbao; and Soldevilla, the Cardinal Archbishop of Zaragoza.

There were two key progressive forces operating in mainstream Catalan politics at the time, liberals and Gran Oriente freemasons, and it was through their influence, in Madrid, that Barcelona’s new civil governor, Portela Valladares, was appointed. An experienced and confident administrator, Valladares was more than capable of containing the bullyboy tactics of the newly appointed captain-general, Miguel Primo de Rivera — for a time anyway.

The third force in the province was that of the middle-class, rightwing catalanistas — nationalists and separatists — led by Hese and Francesc Cambó, whose objective was an independent Catalan state.

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The CNT was the organisation, albeit an extra-parliamentary one, that represented the largest segment of the organised working class.

Where we differed from the other organisations and parties was that we did not want to capture political power; our objective was Libertarian Communism.

When I say ‘we’ I mean the groups. Most cenetistas did not actively pursue libertarian communism; to them it was an ‘Ideal’ but a distant goal. Nor did most of them support direct actions of the type in which we engaged. Basically, all they wanted was some degree of justice and the ability to resolve their everyday social problems through negotiation and, perhaps, the gradual supplanting of capitalism by anarcho-syndicalism, following the Seguí model.

As far as the employers were concerned, or at least the patronal, rational, peaceful negotiation wasn’t on the table. Nor were the authorities — who were fully complicit in the ongoing strategy of tension —willing to do anything to contain or control the gunmen. It was out-and-out war, and as my old Wigtownshire granny used to say, ‘Sooner war, sooner peace!’ It was them or us.

Francisco Maestre Laborda, former civil governor of Barcelona and an architect of the state terror, was our next target. Laborda had gone to Valencia to discuss plans for an anti-CNT pistolero campaign there —based on the patronal’s Barcelona model —but he never made it as far as his hotel. His car was ambushed by compañeros as he drove out of the Estació del Norte.

In the meantime, information was coming in thick and fast from contacts around the country about the other names on our blacklist, especially about General Martínez Anido and José Regueral, the former governor of Bilbao. Compañeros in San Sebastian sent word that Martínez Anido had rented a holiday chalet in Ondarreta, an exclusive neighbourhood of San Sebastian, so that weekend, Francisco Ascaso, Torres Escartín, Aurelio Fernández and myself caught the train north in pursuit of our quarry.

A fine drizzle of rain was falling as we left San Sebastian’s railway station and crossed the Maria Cristina Bridge. We were heading for the Plaça de Bilbao where we were to meet the local comrades who had been monitoring Martínez Anido’s movements. According to them, Anido took a constitutional each evening — the only constitution he cared about! — along the Miraconcha promenade from Ondarreta, through the underpass and along the beach to the casino at La Concha. Unfortunately, he was accompanied everywhere by two police bodyguards.

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After checking into our pensión in the nearby Carrer de Fuenterrabia we made our way to the Ondarreta promenade to familiarise ourselves with Anido’s route. By this time the rain had stopped and the sun had emerged from behind the clouds, changing the colour of the sea from steel grey to translucent blue. It was a delightful town; it reminded me of Largs, on the Firth of Clyde, where our family spent the Glasgow Fair holidays every year. The Bahia de la Concha, however, differed from Largs inasmuch as it had fine white sands instead of a pebble beach, and there was no hoi polloi. It was a very refined town, full of ‘nice people’, not that Largs doesn’t have ‘nice people’ too!

Hungry after our journey, we stopped at a small restaurant overlooking the long arc of golden sand that stretched away in the distance to King Alfonso XIII’s summer palace at Miramar. Our meal consisted of a fish soup and a plate of bacalao —salted cod, the local speciality. As we bantered over our post-lunch carajillos, a group of shadowy silhouettes passing its frosted glass window stopped; one of whom cupped his hands and peered into the restaurant.

Torres Escartín, curious to see what was going on, stuck his head out of the door where he was amazed to come face to face with none other than Martínez Anido himself, and his bodyguards. The moment must have seemed like an eternity as Martínez Anido and Torres Escartín stared each other in the eye. Fortunately only one of them knew who the other was — and that wasn’t the general. The moment passed and the general grunted, turned and continued on his way, his two goons following close behind, throwing occasional suspicious glances back at Escartín.

Perhaps he had stopped to examine the menu in the window, wondering whether or not it was a salubrious place to have a meal.

Escartín, however, was so taken aback by the encounter that he stood there for a few minutes, dumbfounded, before belatedly rushing back to our table to tell us whom he’d just run into.

Fortunately for Anido we weren’t carrying our ‘sindicalistas’ at the time; we’d left them in the pensión, not expecting to run into our quarry so soon so there was little we could have done in the circumstances other than head-butting or strangling the bastard in front of his men. Hurrying back into town we collected our weapons, but by the time we returned there was no sign of Anido. He had gone.

For three days we hung around the promenade, hoping to bump into him again, but without luck. Then we read in the papers that he’d left town on the 15th to take up his new post as governor of the seaport town of La Coruña, further down the coast in Galicia.

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Next morning we caught the train to La Coruña in the hope of locating our quarry, but we also had other Defence Committee business to attend to there, specifically the purchase and shipment of rifles and ammunition to Barcelona. Having agreed to meet at a bar in the town centre at mid day, Aurelio Fernández and Francisco Ascaso went down to the docks to meet their transport union contact while Torres Escartín headed off to find the secretary of the local CNT defence committee to check what newshe had of Anido’s whereabouts. I took some time out to explore the town and try to find the grave of Sir John Moore. The Burial of Sir John Moore after Corunna was a poem we had learned at school and it had stuck with me. Now I was in La Coruña I wasn’t going to miss the chance to see where it all happened: NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O’er the grave where our hero we buried.

We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moonbeam’s misty light And the lanthorn dimly burning…

La Coruña was the harbour from which the Armada had sailed in 1588, and many of its sailors and soldiers had ended up shipwrecked off Tobermory, on the west coast of Scotland. Being quite dark-skinned myself, and my father’s family being from around those parts, it occurred to me that it might just possibly be a little bit of home.

The port of La Coruña is built on a narrow peninsula and is only a few hundred yards wide in places, with a bay on either side and a 300-foot-high Roman lighthouse at the end of the headland. The town itself is built on a steep hill overlooking the harbour. I climbed the narrow, winding, cobbled streets up to the famous ramparts and sat there for a time looking out over the historic bay. Close by was the actual little garden where Sir John lay buried in the shade of palm and beech trees. It was an emotional moment for me, a place where poetry and history came together.

Had I paid closer attention to the harbour I might have seen something even more emotional. While I was up on the ramparts enjoying the view, below me Ascaso and Aurelio were being arrested and taken to the maritime police station, allegedly on suspicion of drug trafficking. In spite of a severe beating, they convinced the police inspector interrogating them that they were in town hoping either to 234

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find work or stow away on a ship bound for America. Had I been with them I might have given the game away, or at least made the police considerably more suspicious as to who we were and what we were doing in town.

Both men were released the following morning on the proviso that they left La Coruña immediately. Assuming they might be watched, they decided it was too dangerous to attempt to contact us so they returned directly to Zaragoza. Only later, through the local CNT defence secretary, did we found out what had happened. Apparently when Martínez Anido was told of their arrests he had their names checked out in the Lasarte files and decided to go to the police station to interrogate them personally. By the time he arrived, however, the compañeros were well on their way to Zaragoza.

Anido exploded with anger when he found out the suspects had been released, berating the unfortunate police inspector before his men, threatening to end his career there and then. It seemed possible that Anido was onto us, through either a confidente or good intelligence, so, discretion being the better part of valour, we put the plans for his assassination temporarily on hold and returned to Barcelona where the number of street murders was growing, but they had nothing to do with CNT defence cadres or Libres pistoleros. These were the work of Pedro Homs’s men, in the pay of the police or the secret service, acting as provocateurs attempting to pit the two main unions against each other in the hope of breaking the uneasy truce that existed between them. The murder of Amadeo Campi, president of the Libres Water Union in the Bar Apeadero in Clot was one example. The police subsequently arrested and charged a cenetista by the name of Miguel Font with Campi’s murder, but when it came to trial it was proved he was the victim of a frame-up and was acquitted.

Back in Barcelona, Juan García Oliver sent me a message to attend a meeting in the theatre room of the Café La Tranquilidad. Convened by our anti-militarist journal, Crisol!, the meeting was prompted by reports from a wide range of sources — masonic and liberal circles, friendly journalists and contacts in the soldiers’ committees in the barracks — all of which confirmed that the generals had brought forward their plans for a pronunciamiento.

Spain’s enormous military losses in the Moroccan War, coupled with the financial, personal and political scandals that were then implicating the highest in the land, meant a golpe de estado was now likely, if not inevitable. The oligarchs and officer class had no way out if they were to retain their political power and their dignity.

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Fifty or sixty people attended the meeting, including Ángel Pestaña, Joan Peiró, Camilo Piñon, Tomás Herreros and other faces from the Federation of Anarchist Groups. Pestaña and his more unionoriented colleagues in prominent positions — who, in their heart of hearts, no longer believed in revolution — were denouncing the militants as ‘Wild West mavericks’. To a certain extent this was a ploy on their part to counter the incessant press campaign that the CNT was a ‘terrorist’ organisation. It also pandered to what they thought was rank-and-file support against the pro-Bolshevik Marxist syndicalists who were then manoeuvring to take over the CNT’s national and regional committees.

Top of the agenda that evening was the proposed anarchist National Liaison Commission, the imminent pronunciamento and Juan García Oliver’s strategy of ‘revolutionary gymnastics’, which involved consciousness raising by provoking a revolutionary situation through spontaneous armed confrontations with the state.

The Commission’s role was to co-ordinate a peninsula-wide insurrectionary general strike to counter the expected military coup and accelerate the revolutionary process. The Commission would spur the formation of a national anarchist federation that brought together all the groups scattered across Spain. In fact it was the kernel of what was later to become the Federación Anarquista Ibérica, the FAI. García Oliver’s plan for ‘revolutionary gymnastics’ provoked a heated debate and a lot of acrimony, while Ángel Pestaña, who was present in his capacity as CNT regional secretary for Catalonia —and thinking of his own experiences in Russia — was bitterly opposed to the idea of an insurrectionary general strike.

‘Comrades,’ he said, ‘the reason why the Bolsheviks have been so successful in Russia is precisely because the Russian people have never been properly educated or prepared for revolution. For a revolution to succeed requires organisation — not spontaneity. At the moment we are weak, disorganised, and our membership is collapsing.

Think back to the general strike of the summer of 1917, when we were betrayed by our so-called comrades of the socialist UGT! Don’t doubt for one moment that they won’t betray us again. The UGT will never challenge the army or the state; they will collaborate and throw in their lot with our class enemies, leaving us isolated and out on a limb — again. No! Compañeros, a revolutionary general strike at this point in time can only end in disaster, or perhaps an even worse tyranny than the one we have already.’

Most of us were aware of the substantial shift in Pestaña’s views since his release from prison almost a year before. His 12 months 236

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inside had led him to rethink his ideas, tactics and objectives; there was now a markedly wide gulf between him and his former closest comrades, and the militant anarchism he once espoused. But I wouldn’t describe him as being cynical or disillusioned in any way; like Seguí, he firmly believed in the values of libertarian communism, but the issue for him now was finding new ways to achieve that vision.

The discussion was heated that evening. Some of the more emotional and enthusiastic compañeros were waving their Stars around aggressively — but the prevailing view among the delegates was against García Oliver’s call for a Bolshevik-style seizure of power.

Instead, the meeting opted for Seguí’s strategy — the ‘softly-softly’ approach of building the new society within the shell of the old. Even so, not one ‘softly-softly’ advocate won a seat on the newly-formed National Liaison Commission, though without the full support of the rank-and-file or the national or regional committees there was little chance of any insurrectionary movement being successful.

Pestaña’s argument that evening with García Oliver was the beginning of the end in terms of his lifelong relationship with the Organisation — and with the ‘Idea’ that he prized so highly. Despite the estrangement, Pestaña never stopped describing himself as an anarchist. García Oliver’s aggressive and dogmatic style was anathema to him, and from then on, Pestaña focused his energies almost exclusively on union-building activity — as opposed to anarchist propaganda.

Among those elected to the National Liaison Commission (NLC) that evening were Aurelio Fernández, Ricardo Sanz and Buenaventura Durruti — all of them members of the Los Solidarios group. Durruti, however, although elected to the NLC, wasn’t in La Tranquilidad that night. He was in jail – in Madrid.

He had gone to the capital as a Los Solidarios delegate to attend a clandestine national meeting of anarchist affinity groups and to generate support for the new National Liaison Commission. On arrival, however, he discovered the congress had been postponed for a few days, so, instead of returning to Barcelona, he decided to show his solidarity with those jailed in connection with the Dato assassination.

Durruti’s first visit had been to his old mentor, Manuel Buenacasa, one of the grand old men of Spanish anarchism, who was then living in Madrid. He went in disguise. As Durruti later told me, when Buenacasa opened the door he failed completely to recognise the Bertie Wooster look-alike standing before him.

On the train journey from Barcelona, the big man from León had been reading the recently translated My Man Jeeves and was 237

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immediately converted into a P. G. Wodehouse aficionado. In a moment of madness he decided to adopt the disguise of what he thought passed for an ‘English gentleman’ making the ‘Grand Tour’: blazer, grey flannel trousers, a cravat, thick pebble glasses and heavily-brilliantined hair. His plan was to visit the prisoners, in jail, under an assumed name and, hopefully, boost their morale — and presumably rub the authorities’ nose in la mierda at the same time. If his disguise worked on Buenacasa he was sure it would work on the prison funcionarios.

Buenacasa advised against it, but Durruti was determined to go ahead with the visit and show his solidarity.

The outcome of the Madrid meeting wasn’t quite what we had hoped for. Our proposal was that the Spanish groups should federate, agree to a unified plan of action, and participate in a coordinated armed uprising in response to the expected coup d’état. The problem was that far from all the affinity groups were action groups —nor had they really given serious consideration to the idea of the armed struggle. But although they didn’t want to get involved in armed actions themselves, they at least agreed to keep in contact and support us morally and materially in whatever ways might be necessary.

The day after the meeting, Durruti — by then Spain’s most excoriated anarchist — tried to visit the imprisoned compañeros charged with the Dato assassination, who were being held in the high security wing of the Cárcel Modelo de Madrid in the Carrer Romero Robledo on the plaza de Moncloa.

Durruti had convinced himself that because Buenacasa hadn’t recognised him dressed like a cross between the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo and a punter straight out of the Eton Boating Song then neither would the police. He was wrong.

He got into the Modelo all right, but because of the serious nature of the indictment, he wasn’t permitted to visit either Pedro Mateu or Lluis Nicolau, the two principals accused in the Dato assassination.

Their visitors required a special permit from the Directorate General of Security and the Prisons Directorate. The prison authorities did, however, allow Durruti to visit Mauro Bajatierra, one of the many compañeros captured in the widespread trawl of anarchist suspects that followed in the wake of the Dato killing. The prison functionaries immediately notified the Special Brigade that an unusually well-dressed man had tried to visit Mateu and Nicolau, and had deposited a large sum of money in their peculio, their prison account.

It emerged later that the prison authorities were having a laugh at Durruti’s expense. They knew exactly who he was all along, and had allowed him into the prison until Special Brigade officers could 238

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arrive to arrest him. What Durruti didn’t know was that Bajatierra — whom he had asked to visit when refused permission to see the others — was a deaf mute and, with Durruti unable to sign, his visit turned out to be not only a dialogue of the deaf, but of the dumb as well.

Returning to town on foot after what must have been a frustrating, if not highly comic visit, Durruti was halfway along the Calle de la Princesa when he found himself surrounded by Special Brigade officers, bundled into an unmarked police car and driven off at high speed to Security Directorate headquarters in the Puerta del Sol, where he was officially identified and charged with three outstanding offences: armed robbery and assault on a businessman by the name of Mendizábal in San Sebastian, an attempt on the life of Alfonso XIII and desertion — having escaped from the military hospital in Burgos. The authorities weren’t going to waste any time on the legal niceties. Early the following morning, he was put on a train and taken under escort to the military prison in San Sebastian.

News of Durruti’s arrest generated enormous media attention.

The following day’s newspapers had his mugshot splashed across their front pages with headlines crowing about the arrest of ‘Spain’s “Number One” terrorist’. But his arrest was worrying for reasons other than those of solidarity: our old enemy, General Arlegui —who hated Durruti and who was used to short-circuiting the law by means of the ley de fugas — was the new Director General of Security. Anything could happen to him while he remained in police custody.

Francisco Ascaso, however, wasn’t easily flustered, and, together with the CNT’s lawyer, Rusiñol, they examined the evidence against Durruti. The most serious charge related to the armed robbery in which Mendizábal, the victim, had identified him. Ascaso immediately travelled to San Sebastian to speak to Mendizábal and impress on him that whoever it was that attacked him, it couldn’t possibly have been Durruti. The unspoken message, of course, was ‘We know where you live, pal!’

And that was how the affair ended. Mendizábal withdrew his deposition against Durruti and the case was dismissed, as was the alleged ‘plot against the king’, which consisted purely of hearsay and conjecture. Only the desertion charge remained, which turned out to be to Durruti’s advantage.

May saw a substantial increase in the number of violent street protests as industrial and social unrest spread unchecked across all of Spain’s industrial and commercial sectors, especially the banks —the strike at the Madrid-based Banco Hispano Americano was probably the 239

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biggest.

The strike began in Madrid on the first of May and was, surprisingly, led by the Libres, which was hoping to recruit all the major professional banking associations. Had Ramón Sales succeeded in his plan, the Libres would have become the second most powerful union in Spain, controlling the most crucial sector of the economic life of the country.

Sales was prepared to go to any lengths to achieve this end. The day before the strike, on 24 April, one of Homs’s pistoleros, Fulgencio Vera ‘Mirete’ — the killer of CNT lawyer Francesc Layert — murdered Josep Maria Foix, secretary of the CNT’s Banking and Administrative workers’ union, shooting him in cold blood as he read his newspaper at a pavement table at the Lesquerra de L’Eixample bar in the Carrer Aribau, just off the Ramblas. We learned later that Sales and Jaume Fort, president of the regional banking association, ordered the killing because they believed that the banks were planning to use the CNT to break the strike.

Felipe Monero, the secretary of the Barcelona CNT’s Textile Workers’ Union, was another victim, gunned down the previous day in the Passeig de Gracia by Homs’ killers on the instructions of Salvadoret and Albaricias, the joint heads of the Libres Bank and Stock Exchange Union. Before he died Monero identified his killers as Cinca, Baldrich, and our backsliding ‘informer’, Manuel Simón The transport workers also went on strike. Theirs began in Barcelona in the middle of May and affected everything from rubbish to body collections. Streets stank as mounds of putrid rubbish spilled across the pavements and blocked the alleyways. Every day newspapers carried lurid headlines about the chaos in the streets, the lack of public order and the relentless assault on the country’s Christian values by Godless anarchists, revolutionary syndicalists, liberals and freemasons. The strike was total. For the bourgeoisie and the clerics, the writing wasn’t only on the walls. The few lorries that were allowed to move around the city did so only with written authorisation from the CNT Regional Committee, whose initials the vehicles bore in large painted letters on their sides and doors, all of which made the bourgeoisie even more paranoid. It was a visible sign that the workers were taking over the city that they thought was theirs.

The principality was divided between the ‘Medes and Persians’, metaphorically speaking. Spain’s elites were crying out for a ‘man on a white horse’, a man with an iron will — such as Italy’s Mussolini.

All this coincided with the ignominious and catastrophic defeat of General Silvestre’s troops in the ongoing 11-year-old Moroccan war.

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Moorish rebels — who now controlled the whole of the Rif — had slaughtered 3,000 of Silvestre’s soldiers, and a further 5,000 Spanish soldiers were massacred after the siege of Monte Arruit. To make matters worse, the entire Spanish general staff in Morocco had been taken prisoner, ignominiously, for ransom.

Tensions in the city were exacerbated as the effects of the transport strike took hold and the pistoleros’ death squads launched a renewed and frenzied murder spree on behalf of the employers.

But the pistoleros didn’t have it all their own way. Not quite.

Although we had taken a severe beating, in terms of the number of our people who were slaughtered, at least when we hit back we did so proportionately — and in a more targeted way.

The Los Solidarios group was, by this time, the most capable and the best organised of all of Spain’s action groups. If anyone were to eliminate the Libres threat it would be us; if we failed, it meant the end of the CNT. It was war — on the Libres, the Sometent, Homs’s thugs and the rump of the Baron de Koenig’s gang.

Early in May we received information that Faustino José Regueral, one of the names on our target list, was in León, a province he had governed several years earlier. Regueral figured high on our blacklist because of his murderous treatment of unionists in the Basque country, which he had governed with a disregard for life and natural justice that was on a par with that of Martínez Anido.

Because of the widespread prejudice towards Catalans in Castille and León (and elsewhere in the peninsula) we decided that the Aragónese comrades, Gregorio Suberviela and Antonio El Toto, and myself should carry out the Regueral assassination in León. Catalans —who were easily identifiable because of their accents —were deeply distrusted elsewhere in Spain because of their reputation as militants and separatists. Whenever anyone queried my accent, which was often, my stock response was that I was from Valladolid. Not a lot of Spaniards knew how folk spoke in Valladolid, but it sounded convincing — except, of course, when dealing with Valladolideños.

So, on the morning of 14 May 1923, just before the start of the transport strike, we caught the train for the provincial capital of Old Castile. At León railway station we were met by a compañero from the local Defence Committee who took us to his mother’s flat where she had a meal waiting for us, and over dinner, he briefed us on what the local committee knew of Regueral’s routine.

In a few days’ time the former governor was scheduled to attend the first night of a new Zarzuela musical whose name I can’t recall — something like Our Asturian Cousin, or maybe it was the The Madman 241

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WhoWould Be King. After the meal he took us to a vacant flat to which he had access. It was situated directly opposite the old Gothic cathedral in the town centre, not too far from the theatre in the Plaza de San Marcelo.

We explored the town over next two days, orienting ourselves with regard to the theatre, the squares, the main thoroughfares, the back doubles, and the narrow side streets of León. We also checked out Regueral’s house, following him and his police bodyguards on a couple of occasions. Clearly, however, the ideal location to hit him was while leaving the theatre, in the late evening, when the square was crowded, noisy and dark.

And so, on the evening of 17 May, Gregorio Suberviela, El Toto and I found ourselves in León’s main square, the Plaza de San Marcelo, waiting for Regueral.

Arriving early, we watched him enter the theatre just before 8:00 p.m., then took up our separate positions close to the colonnaded entrance. We waited, chain smoking, nervously checking for possible plain-clothes policemen among the chattering groups of people paseando to-and-fro across the square. I was at the foot of the theatre steps on the left-hand side, El Toto was in the middle and Gregorio on the far side. We had been there for a little over an hour when Regueral unexpectedly appeared at the top of the stairs, framed between the stone pillars and two police bodyguards. The Zarzuela had obviously not been to his liking and he had decided to leave early.

Stopping at the top of the stairs for a brief moment he looked up into the clear night sky. Stars were the last things he saw. Gregorio signalled, and all three of us fired almost instantaneously from our separate triangulation points. Amazingly, all three bullets hit their target. We stood for a moment as Regueral’s mortally wounded body crumpled and fell, jerking spasmodically, then rolling and tumbling like a Mexican jumping bean to the foot of the theatre steps, almost to our feet. Jimmy Cagney couldn’t have done it better.

Shouts and screams filled the air as the panicking crowd rushed helter-skelter from the square to escape the gunfire. Suberviela, El Toto and I melted away among the fleeing bystanders, making our separate ways to the safe house next to the cathedral.

Recovering quickly from their initial shock, Regueral’s bodyguards rushed to help him, but it was too late —the ex-governor was dead. They had no idea where the shots had come from or who was responsible, but that didn’t stop the authorities bringing in all the usual local suspects for questioning. We remained in hiding for a week, until the hue and cry had died down, then returned separately 242

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to Valladolid and from there back to Barcelona.

For more than a week afterwards, the newspapers published the most outlandish stories about Regueral’s assassins. The newspapers all agreed that the gang had been led by Durruti —totally ignoring the fact that the big man himself had the perfect alibi — he was in San Sebastian jail at the time of the killing, waiting for his bail papers on the desertion charge to be signed. But the sustained press hysteria surrounding his alleged connection with Regueral’s death made it politically inexpedient for the authorities to release him, as they should have done, so he had to remain behind bars waiting for the press clamour to die down before he could be released.

Whether Durruti was in jail or not was of no concern to the press; they had decided that he and his ‘gang of anarchist bandits’ from León were the ‘likely candidates’ responsible for the outrage. Anxious to be seen to be doing something, anything, to assuage the angry press, the police arrested Durruti’s brother, Santiago; they even threatened his father. Neither of them was an anarchist. Anyone remotely or indirectly connected with Durruti was pulled in for questioning — including Vicente Tejerina, secretary of the local CNT — but with no evidence that CNT militants, or even that anarchists, were indeed responsible, the police were, reluctantly, obliged to release them.

In Barcelona, soon after the transport strike began, the comrades tracked down and settled accounts with two of the last remaining members, in Spain, of Baron de Koenig’s ‘Black Gang’, Bernat Armengol and Luis Alberic. They had been scabbing for the transport company, Figueroa Gilo y Cia. All other members of the Baron’s gang by this time either had fled abroad or were dead.

A fortnight later, the Solidarios settled accounts with another couple of nasty pieces of work: Salvador Ubeda and Joaquín Oller, both Sometent members who also worked for Figueroa Gilo y Cia. These hits were carried out by an extraordinary Portuguese compañero by the name of Antonio Matenza who, on 30 May, also shot and killed both the Libres president in Badaona, Tomás Farreras, and his Sometent colleague Antonio Poch.

By this time the situation in Barcelona had deteriorated to such an extent that the patronal forced the resignation of the civil governor, Salvador Raventós, claiming he was overly sympathetic to the strikers.

Even Primo de Rivera —who had also tried to negotiate an end to the strike — was of the opinion that the employers were keeping the transport strike going in the hope of breaking the union. Francisco Barber, a journalist and liberal Member of Parliament, succeeded Raventós; it was now his job to calm the panic-stricken bourgeoisie 243

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and give battle to the CNT. Meanwhile, Rafael Torres Escartín and Francisco Ascaso were in San Sebastian awaiting Durruti’s release, but with all the press hysteria that followed the Regueral shooting they decided it was too dangerous to remain in the city and left a message with Durruti’s lawyer as to where they could be contacted. Hitching a lift to Zaragoza, they found lodgings with a Catalan comrade by the name of Dalmau.

They had been in Zaragoza only a few days when Teresa Claramunt, the indomitable and highly respected anarchist speaker, writer and activist, called on Dalmau. Having recently returned from a successful speaking tour of Andalusia she wanted to bring her friend up to date with news from the south.

Teresa, one of the last survivors of the horrors of Montjuic fortress in the 1890s, was a near legendary figure in the movement. She had never met Escartín or Ascaso before, but she knew of them, and no sooner had she been introduced than she launched into an angry tirade, accusing them —or the groups, anyway —of being responsible for the recent deaths of a strike-breaker and a security guard in a local industrial dispute.

Although she wasn’t a pacifist, Teresa strongly disapproved of violence. If violence had to be used, she said, then let it be directed against those who practised and sanctioned it — heads of state, archbishops, government ministers, army officers and policemen —not poor working-class wretches with families, not even scabs.

Both men listened to Teresa’s reproachful harangue in silence, taken aback by her angry accusations— not even sure what she was talking about. When she finally ran out of emotional steam and they were able to get a word in edgeways to assure her that their views on the use of violence coincided completely with hers, she calmed down a little. Dalmau then produced a bottle of brandy and the atmosphere mellowed. Having made her point, she began to relax and smile.

Teresa was a bright-eyed woman in her early sixties whose character was etched into her handsome face. Her silver hair matched the passionate spirit that burned within her — a platinum flame that only death would extinguish. Seated round the fire, she told them stories of the horrendous tortures to which innocent men and women had been subjected in Montjuic, and the mental anguish of those who, though not tortured themselves, were unable to comfort their comrades. One of the victims, she said, battered and burned by Cánovas’s torturers and unable to walk, had to be carried into court.

When his suffering eyes spotted the portrait of Jesus in the courtroom, high above the judges’ bench, he shouted: ‘Oh Christian God, what 244

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was your agony compared with that which your followers have made me suffer?’ The priests made sure he was the first of the five to be shot.

Over the summer of 1923, Libres influence had expanded across the rest of Spain, and was now relatively strong in Madrid. In Badalona it almost completely displaced the CNT, while in Zaragoza it had established particular influence in the banking sector, and the pistolero gangs in the Aragón capital were acting with as much impunity as those in Barcelona.

The most psycopathic of the Libres ringleaders in Zaragoza was Paulíno Pallás. Reputedly the son of the executed anarchist of the same name, now the adopted son of Martínez Anido, he was the protégé of Cardinal Archbishop Soldevilla, a prelate whose every waking minute was dedicated to making life hell on earth for every cenetista and liberal in Zaragoza.

Pallás was a deeply flawed individual, psychologically and emotionally. It may have been Freudian resentment of his father, or conditioning by the man who brought him up, or maybe he was born bad. Whatever the reason, Pallás was a nasty piece of work, up to every perfidious trick in the book —including blackmail and murder —crimes the local press blamed on cenetistas. He successfully deceived otherwise sensible and reasonably well-informed people like Teresa Claramunt, who should have known better. But in the pressurised atmosphere of the time it was hardly surprising that many anarcho-syndicalists were making unfortunate mistakes.

The two men felt they had to do something before the situation deteriorated further. After discussing the Zaragoza situation with a few trusted local comrades, including Teresa — who became an important influence on them — Escartín and Ascaso decided, in one of those moments of mutual clarity, that the only course of action that would have sufficient psychological impact to shake the foundations of the state, put the fear of God into the ruling classes and show them their actions had consequences would be to assassinate the clerical patron of the pistoleros, Juan Soldevilla Romero, Cardinal Archbishop of Zaragoza.

Soldevilla, both in his character and office, personified the heart of darkness that was integrist Spain; he was the invisible worm at the core of all the country’s reactionary intrigues. And it wasn’t just the anarchists, liberals and freethinkers who despised the cleric; many ordinary Catholics considered him to be corrupt, gross and venal.

Countless lurid stories circulated locally about Soldevilla’s extravagant and debauched lifestyle, his property interests and his involvement in a gambling casino, together with rumours of paedophilia and orgies at 245

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local convents.

We had no way of knowing what, if any, of these stories were true, but Soldevilla regularly issued pastoral letters attacking the CNT, which his priests read out from the pulpits of the churches in his diocese. We also knew that he met every month with the board of the Barcelona Employers’ Federation, the patronal, advising them on psychological and political strategies to undermine the union. He was also personally recruiting and protecting many of the pistoleros, arranging lodges for them in seminaries and other church-owned properties, and finding work for them, mainly as tramway inspectors.

Soldevilla was, without a shadow of doubt, a central charismatic figure and a key moral and tactical strategist in the employers’ dirty war against the unions, using his ecclesiastical influence to publicly excoriate and anathematise the CNT and legitimise —sanctify even — the cold-blooded murder of its militants.

His execution would be the expiating act par excellence.

The difficulty was that Soldevilla’s name didn’t appear on the hit list authorised by the CNT Defence Committee, nor was it on Los Solidarios’s own hit list. The decision to assassinate him was a purely pragmatic decision by Ascaso and Escartín, based on what they had learned about the Cardinal Archbishop during their time in Zaragoza.

Convinced that he intended using the Libres and pistoleros to exterminate CNT militants in Aragón in the same way that Martínez Anido had used them in Barcelona, the two comrades decided, quite rightly, that the world would be an eminently better place without His Eminence. So, with Teresa’s help, they drew up a plan of action.

At approximately 3:20 pm on the afternoon of June 4, 1923, a black limousine, registration plate Z-135, glided out of the courtyard of the Archbishop’s palace in Zaragoza. Seated in the rear of the vehicle, separated by a lattice screen from the driver, Luis Castrena, were two clerics: the eighty-year-old Cardinal Archbishop of Zaragoza, Don Juan Soldevilla Romero, and his nephew and secretary, forty-year-old Don Luis Latre Jorro. The men were discussing the deteriorating health and senility of the cardinal’s sister, who was also his secretary’s mother.

It was four o’clock when the car reached its destination in the Las Delicias district on the outskirts of Zaragoza —the Teaching School of San Pablo, a school for 16- to 18-year-old girls, novitiate nuns preparing to join the Order of Saint Vincent de Paul. The college came under the patronage of the Cardinal Archbishop, who visited the convent on a daily basis to ‘keep an eye on his girls’. The cardinal, who was immensely rich in his own right, was intending to go on to 246

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a farm he owned nearby, El Terminillo.

The road leading to the convent formed a long curve before turning sharply at the convent gates, which meant the car had to reduce speed almost to a standstill. As the vehicle slowed and drew to a halt outside the gates, two men in blue overalls, with red and black neckerchiefs covering the lower part of their faces, emerged from the bushes flanking either side of the entrance. Running up to the car windows they opened fire at the passengers from point-blank range.

In all, thirteen bullets were fired, one of which hit the cardinal archbishop in the heart, killing him instantly.

Their job done, the assassins discarded their pistols and ran off across the fields, disappearing into the working-class district of Las Delicias, leaving behind not a solitary clue.

When news of the assassination broke, panic swept through the office of the civil governor, Fernández Cobos. He was at a loss as how to proceed, as were the local police commissioner and Guardia Civil commander. They did nothing, other than inform Madrid and await orders. Finally, at eight o’clock that night, a curt telegram arrived from King Alfonso XIII. It read: ‘Find the killers!’ Unfortunately, there were no leads for the police to follow other than the two discarded Star pistols made by the Spanish-owned Gabilondo y Urresti-Eibar factory in Eibar, and thirteen 9mm bullet cases. No one, apart from the chauffeur, had seen or heard anything.

The king, a close friend of Soldevilla, immediately sent his personal secretary to Zaragoza to ensure the investigation was dealt with rigorously, while Juan de la Cierva, the leader of the Conservative Party and Minister of the Interior, told the civil governor and police commissioner that he wanted quick results. The authorities were in no doubt that the shooting was the work of anarchists, so the order went out to pull in every known local anarchist, anyone who might provide a lead. The forces of order had to be seen to be doing something, anything.

But the CNT in Zaragoza was particularly strong, and its general secretary, Victoriano Gracia, was not easily intimidated. On the evening of the assassination he warned the authorities to be careful how they proceeded, and that should a single union member be wrongfully detained as a result of the investigation there would be serious consequences, including the possibility of a general strike.

The governor, a diplomatic man not given to confrontations, backed away from a head-to-head with the CNT. Fearful of making a bad situation worse, he ordered the police commissioner not to make any arrests unless his officers had substantial proof of guilt. In his press 247

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statement, the governor stressed that the murder was not the work of anarcho-syndicalists, but of ‘the anarchists’ —a fine distinction indeed.

The day Soldevilla went to hell in a Hispano-Suiza, he was accompanied on his journey by two other hated figures: the Special Brigade inspector José Fernández Alegría, and the Sometent and Libres leader Josep Franquesa — who also moonlighted as Pedro Martir Homs’s bodyguard.

In the 9 days after Soldevilla’s death there were no fewer than eleven murders and attempted murders in the Zaragoza region.

Governor Barber and General Primo de Rivera were both summoned to Madrid by the prime minister to explain to the cabinet what steps they were taking to regain control of the city, which remained paralysed by the transport strike and was now hit by a food workers’ strike.

Primo de Rivera took advantage of his trip to Madrid to meet with the king and senior army officers, including General Aguilera, to outline his plans for the coup. The king favoured the idea of a coup as a means of getting himself out of the deep hole he had dug for himself over his intervention in the Morocco crisis, but he wasn’t happy about Primo de Rivera leading the pronunciamento. Even so, he let it be known that he would not oppose the scheme in principle.

General Aguilera, on the other hand — the natural coup leader as far as the king was concerned — rejected the idea out of hand.

On his return to Barcelona, Governor Barber announced his resignation, allegedly on health grounds, but he knew a lot more than he was letting on. He had held the job for a little over three weeks and was suffering from a serious heart condition, which certainly wasn’t helped by the stress he was now under, nor by the fact he had been physically attacked by a mob of Sometent at the funeral of one of their members. He was replaced by Primo de Rivera, who had no more success than anyone else in ending the transport strike. Barber died 2 months later.

The authorities and the newspapers milked Soldevilla’s murder for all it was worth. Not that they needed an excuse to justify their savagery or the suspension of civil liberties, but the cardinal archbishop’s death did give them another opportunity to launch a preemptive strike against the anarchists and the CNT, the only working-class bodies with the political and moral will to resist their plans for an out-and-out Mussolini-style dictatorship.

Frustrated by the lack of progress in the Soldevilla investigation, and under intense pressure from the church, the press and the king, the 248

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minister of the interior, Juan de La Cierva, ordered a massive crackdown, ordering his regional police chiefs to arrest every known CNT and anarchist activist in central and northern Spain. It was once again open season on the CNT. From late June onwards, the homes and meeting places of cenetistas and anarchists across the peninsula were raided regularly by the Special Brigade with arrest warrants for militants on both real and trumped-up charges.

In the early hours of 28 June, police and civil guard units cordoned off all the working-class barris throughout Catalonia, Aragón and parts of the Levante, refusing to allow anyone to enter or leave without papers. Among the cenetistas arrested during this ‘fishing’ expedition were Martí Barrera, Antonio Amador and Ángel Pestaña, the last being charged with ‘terrorism’ and ‘incitement to mutiny’, linking him with the publication of ‘seditious’ anti-militarist leaflets circulating in the barracks, some of which were found in his possession. Issued by anarchist soldiers’ councils, they called on conscripts to prepare to rise up against their officers, and make common cause with the people in the event of a military coup d'état.

The 28 June raids provided the police with their first leads as to the existence of Los Solidarios and the connection to the Soldevilla murder. Among the arrested was Esteban Salamero Bernard, a cripple who hadn’t been at home when the police came looking for him so they arrested his seventy-year-old mother instead, leaving him a message that she wouldn’t be released until he gave himself up.

Esteban immediately went along to police headquarters, but before freeing her they punched her in the face and threatened to torture her unless he told them what they wanted to know. The sight was too much for Esteban. Although not directly involved in the Soldevilla action, he signed a confession in which he admitted having taken part in the attack — and told them about the existence of Los Solidarios.

The police also arrested Francisco Ascaso and Bernard and Juliana López Maimar —Durruti’s girl friend at the time —whom they carted off from her sickbed despite being seriously ill with TB. Their main suspect, however, was Francisco Ascaso, and even though he had an alibi — he had been visiting comrades in Zaragoza’s Predicadores prison at the time of the archbishop’s murder —he was still charged wit the murder, as were Salamero and the Maimars.

In spite of the fact that Francisco Ascaso’s alibi was substantiated by prison officers, it cut no ice with the magistrates or the press. As far as they were concerned, Ascaso was a member of the ‘infamous Durruti gang’ — and, ipso facto, guilty as charged — albeit by 249

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association.

By mid-July, Barcelona’s Modelo prison was filled to overflowing with many of the best-known CNT militants in Catalonia, who were being crammed in, eight or nine at a time, into its eight-by-eight metre cells.

A few days later, Laureano, García Oliver and I were summoned to an emergency meeting of the Defence Executive in the back room of the Tastevins. Joan Peiró was there with Piñon when we arrived.

The grim looks on their faces didn’t bode well.

‘Peiró and I have serious matters to raise with you,’ said Piñon.

‘The National Committee is extremely unhappy with what Los Solidarios have been up to … or not up to, rather. Nothing agreed on at the Besos meeting has succeeded. All that has happened is that at least four actions have taken place, none of which were ever discussed or authorised by the Executive.

‘Let us pause and consider what has been agreed or done, and what hasn’t. Certainly, some of the actions fall within the general parameters of what we discussed at Besos —the attack on the Carlist Requetés in the Carrer Portaferria and the one in the el Alhambra restaurant in Manresa. The point of the Besos protocol, however, was to hit our enemies at the top. Those two actions certainly come within the general terms of that agreement, but not the killing of Archbishop Soldevilla in Zaragoza or former Governor José Regueral in León. We know the Solidarios group were responsible for these actions — and are answerable to the Committee. Had you succeeded in executing Jaime de Borbón and Martínez Anido, we would have accepted full responsibility. With those two dead, we would have at least have inflicted a mortal blow on our enemies.’

‘What can I say?’ interjected Laureano. ‘You are both right and wrong. You gave us the names of two people the Defence Committee wanted executed, but when our men arrived in Paris, Don Jaime de Borbón had already left. The same thing happened in San Sebastian with Martínez Anido, who left the day our men arrived. Unlikely coincidences — don’t you think? — which leads us to believe there may be a high-level informer in your ranks.

‘The fact that Anido has been appointed High Commissioner for Morocco seems to confirm that they are intent on getting him out of the way. We know the Committee didn’t approve the killing of Regueral or Soldevilla, but neither were the killings agreed among the Solidarios themselves ‘What happened was that the comrades learned of Regueral’s movements in León by accident, and decided to act there and then, when the opportunity presented itself. The same thing happened with 250

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the archbishop, in Zaragoza, when Torres Escartín and Ascaso were in town. They were purely spur-of-the-moment decisions.

‘Our understanding of the Besos agreement —and theirs —was that we hit the policymakers and strategists as well as the gunmen — and all our targets have falle within that category. The Defence Committee may not agree with those actions — and there are others among the Solidarios who don’t agree either —but, shit, that’s the way it is … ’ ‘What you’re saying then,’ responded Peiró, ‘is that ‘Los Solidarios’ are an out-of-control gang of “irresponsables”. “Mavericks” intent on doing their own thing, and that we, the National Committee and the union, must shoulder the responsibility for their actions —whereas, in fact, it’s your responsibility … you recruited them.

‘No!’ replied García Oliver, flushed with anger. ‘We didn’t, as you say, “recruit” them. You asked us to help. We are freely united, likeminded comrades who trust one another, and who believe in justice and the solidarity of the oppressed, and in getting things done. We may be flawed in many ways, but we are not afraid to put our hands in the fire when necessary —which is a lot more than most, including the compañeros on the committees. Perhaps from a Catalanist point of view we may be what you call “irresponsible”, but remember, Peiró, these compañeros are from Aragón, Asturias and León, and have a different way of looking at things — as do I. ‘These comrades aren’t mere integers in some abstract political calculation —they are out there risking their lives pushing against the barriers. The actions in Paris and San Sebastian were compromised from the beginning, probably by a confidente within the Committee itself, so look to your own house before you start accusing us of being “‘irresponsible”.

‘And don’t think for one minute that any of these comrades are stupid enough to commit themselves to actions organised by people risking nothing and who have no direct involvement. No, these men will work only with known and trusted compañeros —and on actions that they themselves organise and can justify. They are quite capable of making their own moral and political judgments about their actions — and of living with the consequences of those actions.

‘I could say a lot more,’ continued Garcia Oliver, ‘but it’s water under the bridge now. What’s done is done! We appreciate the Committee’s concerns. Perhaps you are worried about the consequences for yourselves as well as for the Organisation as a result of Soldevilla’s assassination? All I can say is that we hit them at the top, where it hurts — and we hit the nail right on the head. That bastard 251

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got what was coming to him. Just wait and see; this is the end of the pistoleros and the Libres, and the end of the slaughter of compañeros.

‘So what if it increases the likelihood of a coup d’état? Are we unprepared for it anyway? The coup will happen no matter what; we believe it is a price worth paying. We will resist, because that is who and what we are. If we don’t resist then we are no better than slaves, condoning their violence, which is how they think of us anyway.’

‘No matter!’ interjected Peiró, unwilling to argue the point any further. Los Solidarios must be dissolved —immediately! They cannot act any longer in the name of the Organisation. Here we are, within pissing distance of a military coup and a dictatorship, and it’s clear that the Defence Committee has no control over the group.’

It was a pointless discussion. Los Solidarios, like all the groups, answered only to themselves. The only sanction available to the national and regional committees was to withdraw their imprimatur from our activities. All that our ‘dissolution’ meant was that, though we remained committed cenetistas, we were unable to act as an executive arm of the union, which was the original idea behind the Besos Protocol. The process was similar to that of a papal excommunication, or clapping your hands to keep Tinkerbell alive — if you believed in fairies, that is.

The fact of the matter was that the committees had their own furrows to plough and didn’t want us involved in whatever strategy they had in mind. We, on the other hand, had our own agenda — which was the overthrow of capitalism — and we were sticking to it.

‘Very well,’ I said, ‘if the Committee insists on breaking its links with the groups there’s not a lot we can do about it, but don’t you think it’s now more important than ever that they remain in place with the military coup in the offing?’

‘Just do whatever is necessary — but do it quickly,’ said Peiró.

Soldevilla’s death had its desired effect — from our point of view at least. The murder of militants ceased almost immediately, and Libres influence ebbed away faster than a spring tide at Rothesay beach. The CNT had shown it was not going to be intimidated by terror tactics, and that it could give as well as take — and a lot more effectively.

Meanwhile, our informants in the barracks were telling us of increased comings and goings between the royal palace and the general staff, the monasteries, the sacristies and the Requeté, Sometent and Catholic Action centres. The blatant conspiratorial activities of reactionary wealthy bourgeois Catalanists like Cambó —and the army —were a clear indication as to how close we were to the coup d’état.

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Durruti, newly released from jail in San Sebastian, had been planning to go home to León to spend a few days with his mum, but when he heard that Francisco Ascaso and the others had been arrested, and that Peiró and Piñon were calling for Los Solidarios to be cast into the outer darkness as it were, he came straight to Barcelona for an urgent meeting —a confrontation, rather —with the Defence Committee.

After a heated discussion the committee backed down and decided not to cut its links with the group until after a secret emergency national plenum of the CNT that was due to be held in Valencia on 15 July. Durruti was clearly a lot more convincing than either Laureano or García Oliver.

What we hoped for from this meeting was the replacement of the pro-Seguí-line reformists on the CNT National Committee and for the rank-and-file to back our call for an armed uprising in the event of a coup d’état. It was a partial success.

Despite the expected hostile response to the idea of ‘revolutionary gymnastics’ from most of the CNT’s ‘influential militants’, García Oliver —a charismatic orator at the best of times —pressed his case relentlessly at every opportunity during the Valencia plenum.

And, although we failed to get official backing to launch a countercoup, we did succeed in replacing an otherwise hostile National Committee with comrades who were more amenable to our position.

Manuel Adame, an Andalucian from Seville — where the new National Committee was now located — was the National Secretary, and he shared the groups’ ideas about direct action.

Captain Alejandro Sancho, an army officer and a secret anarchist liaison with the anti-militarist committees, briefed the Valencia meeting on the plotters’ preparations in the barracks. Plans for the coup were now being discussed openly in the officers’ messes. Sancho told the delegates — in closed session — about increased military and secret police surveillance on the activists of the soldiers’ councils. According to Sancho, two names were being bandied about as possible leaders of the coup — Generals Primo de Rivera and Sanjurjo. It seemed the authorities didn’t expect much resistance, not even from the CNT. The national and regional committees responded to the military threat by declaring a general strike, and going underground until the situation improved. This was pure defeatism. For those of us in the groups there could be no middle ground. We had nothing to lose. It was to be a revolutionary general strike or nothing, and we began looking for arms, improved coordination — and money.

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The committees saw it differently. In hindsight, perhaps they were right. The events of the previous few years had taken their toll, both on the prominent militants and on the rank-and-file. Many were still confused as to whether or not to support the Bolsheviks and the Soviet Union and much energy and time was wasted in long, bitter and divisive polemics. The UGT, on the other hand, wasn’t interested in testing the strength of the proletariat. Pestaña discussed the matter at length with the socialist labour union’s leaders, and realised that they intended leaving the CNT to face the state alone — much as they had done before in August 1917.

‘It’s pure folly,’ said Pestaña, when he was released on bail. ‘A revolutionary general strike requires spontaneity and organisation — but only a minute amount of spontaneity. If it is to succeed, 90 percent has to be organisation —and we certainly don’t even have 50 percent.’

‘But even so,’ he concluded, ‘what is certain is that the full force of the state will be directed against us as the only genuinely revolutionary force in the country. All we can do is try to live up to our revolutionary tradition — and our values.’

The dramatic reduction in pistolero attacks may also have had something to do with the arrival, in early July, of Barcelona’s new civil governor, Manuel Portela Vallares, the Conde de Bris. Within a week of his arrival he had brokered an agreement between the workers and employers over pay and hours — always the main stumbling block to any settlement.

But the shootings didn’t cease altogether, and another of our lawyers, José Maria Seseras, was seriously wounded. Incidents like these were now, however, the exception rather than the rule. Most of the attacks were internecine, score-settling, grudge-match shootouts between disgruntled Libres gunmen and former paymasters refusing to honour blood debts — especially in the case of the smaller workshops.

With the pistolero threat receding, we focused our attention on thwarting the impending military coup, but, while we had the organisation and the will, we lacked the resources for such a largescale venture. Taking on the Spanish army and the entire state apparatus called not only for large quantities of weapons and ammunition, arms dumps and workshops for manufacturing hand grenades, but also money — and with the union’s financial reserves exhausted, the only solution was to engage in wage snatches and bank hold ups.

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must have carried out at least fifty robberies that summer, of which perhaps a dozen or so were successful in terms of the amount of money we took. Fortunately, we suffered no loss of life or arrests, nor was anyone injured.

Most of the robberies took place in our main stomping grounds: Reus, Tarrassa, Manresa and Barcelona. One particularly satisfying hold up took place at the Fondo de Francia restaurant on 7 August, across the road from the Francia railway station, slap bang next to the civil governor’s office. Eight of us got away with 150,000 pesetas from forty-five of the crème de la crème of Barcelona’s high bourgeoisie.

Once the morning trading session had ended, we waited until the traders left the Borne market and had trooped upstairs to the Fondo’s dining room. Having allowed them sufficient time to settle in, a dozen of us entered the room, locked the doors behind us, and went from table to table taking everyone’s wallets and purses.

There was no physical violence involved on that occasion, only stunned resentment from the diners. Durruti, the last one out of the dining room, turned and waved to the would-be diners and shouted: ‘Thanks for your contributions gentlemen. Enjoy the rest of your meal,’ then locked the door behind him.

Next day we struck lucky again. This time the target was the Arrendateria de Contribuciónes, the main Barcelona rent collection office in the Carrer Aviño, on the corner of Escudellers. On that occasion we took around 100,000 pesetas, again without bloodshed or incident. On both occasions, women comrades, including Lara, were waiting close by to take possession of the robbery’s proceeds as we left the building. That way, if anyone was arrested or killed, at least we would still have the money.

As luck would have it, four of the compañeros involved in the robbery — Juan Gusi, Juan Torralba and the Tarragos, father and son —were identified by some of the factor’s employees, and arrested. We later discovered it was because it was the office where they paid their own rent! Durruti, García Oliver, Alfonso Miguel and Alejandro Ascaso were also later identified as being involved in the robbery.

One of the worst disasters happened in Seville when six comrades walked straight into a police ambush during an attempted bank robbery. One of these was Manuel Adame, the newly elected national secretary of the CNT; the others were the rest of the Sevillebased National Committee. It was a ‘ready-eye’. Clearly the new National Committee had been infiltrated or compromised in some way.

Their arrests proved a serious setback to our plans to resist the army coup — but it didn’t affect our resolve or commitment to the armed 255

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struggle.

This wave of almost uninterrupted, politically motivated robberies seriously undermined the civil governor’s reputation both in Madrid and with the Catalan power-brokers, but for the wily Primo de Rivera it was the perfect opportunity to turn the situation in the province to his advantage.

His response was to order the Barcelona garrison onto the streets in support of the ‘civil power’ — with the Guardia Civil, police and Sometent out patrolling the streets and guarding the city’s banks and financial institutions. Restoring public order and ridding Spain of ‘Reds’ and the CNT was, he claimed, his primary objective. His real aim, however, was garnering the support of the Catalan bourgeoisie and influential oligarchs, such as Puig i Cadafalch of the Lliga, for his imminent coup.

The ‘influential militants’ of the CNT, meanwhile, were concerned about the growing enthusiasm among the rank-and-file and defence cadre militants for García Oliver’s ideas of ‘revolutionary gymnastics’.

In an attempt to counter this radical groundswell of opinion the reformist elements within the CNT convened a regional conference, a plenum, in Barcelona’s Teatro Nuevo, on 25 July, to argue the case against armed insurrection. Pestaña and Piñon were now openly criticising us, accusing the action groups of being misguided, naive, unrealistic, thinking illogically — and in danger of drifting into pure criminality under the flag of revolutionary activism.

There was certainly some truth in the latter charge. The robberies were intended to subsidise the union’s welfare programme and fund particular actions, but with so many compañeros out of work and having to feed, clothe and house themselves and their families, inevitably, some of the proceeds were kept back for personal use — which in effect made them, arguably, ‘common’ criminals.

The CNT ‘leadership’ also opposed our calls for a revolutionary general strike, arguing that the strike weapon should be deployed only when and if it stood a chance of succeeding. They didn’t believe it would succeed. We thought otherwise. They claimed to still believe in the values of libertarian communism, but the issue for them was how best to realise those values. To us it seemed that they had abandoned their idealism and turned their backs on activism and the ‘Idea’ itself.

Anyway, they lost the argument and were replaced by a new regional committee that was more sympathetic to our point of view.

And to ensure the new Regional Committee couldn’t be subborned by the pro-Seguí and Pestañist factions, the new committee moved its base from Barcelona to Manresa, where the more revolutionary-oriented 256

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militants and groups had greater influence — and control!

Launching a defensive insurrection, however, meant we needed serious heavy-duty weaponry; not just the few Stars, shotguns, hunting rifles and some sub-machineguns, which were all we had at the time.

Through our friends in the northwest, in the Basque country, Durruti contacted an intermediary from Mondragón by the name of Zulueta, who offered to supply us with 1,000 rifles and 200,000 rounds of ammunition for a quarter of a million pesetas. It was an enormous amount of money, which we didn’t have, but we needed the arms and had no choice but to pay the asking price; rather we’d get the banks to pay for them.

It was Aurelio Fernández who came up with the idea of robbing the Gijón branch of the Bank of Spain. Gijón was his hometown and a lot of heavy industry. According to Aurelio, large sums of money were deposited in its vaults every Friday prior to the Saturday payday.

Everyone was enthusiastic about the idea so, in the middle of August 1923, Torres Escartín and Durruti travelled to Gijón to recce the bank and came back four days later full of enthusiasm — and with a plan.

So, during the last week of August 1923, twelve of us, including three women comrades, Lara, Lola Iturbe and Suceso, made our way, individually or in small groups, by road and by rail to the Asturian coastal town. The date for the robbery was set for 1 September.

Laureano and I travelled with Durruti and Escartín by lorry, stopping off in Zaragoza for a few hours to meet Manuel Buenacasa and find out what was happening in the Soldevilla murder case, and how Durruti’s girlfriend Juliana López Maimar and Ascaso were faring —and if they needed anything. Durruti also asked Buenacasa for local backup to help with the Gijón bank job, which was planned as an assault operation requiring as many hands as possible. Buenacasa promised to send some men up the following day. From Zaragoza we drove to Bilbao where Durruti and Escartín finalised the deal with Zulueta for the purchase and delivery of the thousand rifles from the Garate y Anitua arms factory in Eibar.

Two days later, on 1 September 1923, nine of us were milling around on the busy concourse of the Gijón branch of the Banco de España.

On the final stroke of noon, we produced pistols and shotguns from beneath our jackets and mackintoshes and began shouting loudly to frighten and disorient the bank staff and customers.

I had gone into the bank ten minutes earlier to change a 50peseta note — to ensure we weren’t walking into a trap, as had happened with Manuel Adame and the compañeros in Seville. A blast 257

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at the ceiling from a shotgun with a rice-filled cartridge case quickly focused everyone’s attention.

With me in the bank were Aurelio Fernández, Gregorio Suberviela, Antonio del Toto, Rafael Torres Escartín, Eusebio Brau, Buenaventura Durruti, Adolfo Ballano and Laureano Cerrada Santos.

Our heads were covered with flat caps or boinas, while our faces below our eyes, were masked by red and black bandanas, which was a bit of a give-away as to our political allegiance, but we didn’t care — that’s the sort of tango-dancing lads we were!

Aurelio stood guard at the front door cradling a newly-acquired M1921 Thomson ‘Anti-Bandit’ sub-machinegun while. outside, six strategically placed compañeros, including Lara, Lola Iturbe and Suceso, covered the streets around the bank. Across the road from the front door of the bank, watched over by the women, were parked two getaway cars, stolen the previous night, their engines ticking over.

Durruti and Torres Escartín accompanied the manager, Luis Azcarate, to open the safe while the rest of us remained in the main concourse, guarding the customers and bank staff who were lying or squatting in the centre of the black and white marble terrazzo floor.

The architecture of the place reminded me of the Masonic temple in Govan. It’s funny how the mind wanders in these situations. In the safe was the Duro-Felguera Company payroll of 675,000 pesetas. What we didn’t realise that there was another safe in the bank with millions more pesetas.

Once the money bags were loaded into the first car, Aurelio Fernández, Torres Escartín and Eusebio Brau clambered in, along with the three women and the driver, García Vivancos, and drove off at high speed, tyres squealing, down the Calle de Begona and out onto the Oviedo road. But as luck would have it, just as the rest of us were climbing into the second car, which was revving up outside the front door of the bank, two lorry-loads of Guardia Civil, ‘La Benemerita’ (the ‘Well Deserving’) screeched to a halt opposite, and its occupants began firing at us with their rifles.

Splitting into two groups, as planned. I ran back into the bank along with Durruti and Suberviela, doubling up to avoid the hail of bullets ricocheting around us. The others made it to the adjacent street corner where, taking cover, they returned the Guardias’ fire. One of the ‘Well Deserving’ recognised Durruti at the bank door and shouted to his colleagues: ‘It’s the big man; it’s Durruti!’

With the Guardia Civil tied down in the back of their lorries under heavy crossfire from the bank and from the street corner, they concentrated their fire on Durruti, who was spraying them with his 258

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Thompson, giving Suberviela and myself time to run up the stairs, to the attic, and climb out onto the bank roof. Covering fire from the compañeros in the street finally gave Durruti the chance to dash inside and join us on the roof. The Guardia, meanwhile, under attack from so many different positions, were forced to drive round the corner to a less exposed position, a diversion that gave us enough time to jump across the narrow alleyway separating the bank from the neighbouring buildings and escape across the rooftops. A few buildings along we clambered down a drainpipe into a courtyard and slipped out into the confusion and general mayhem of the crowds of inquisitive sightseers gathering in the streets and alleyways around the bank. From there we made our separate ways to the safe house we had rented at 52 Calle Covadonga.

Interviewed later by journalists about her infamous ‘bandit’ son, Durruti’s mum, Anastasia, now the most famous woman in León, replied: ‘How do I know if my son handles millions? What I do know is that every time he comes home, it’s me who has to feed and clothe him from head to toe — and pay for his return ticket as well!’

Suberviela and I left for Barcelona that evening in the back of a meat lorry driven by a comrade from the transport union. Durruti, brazen and imaginative as ever, hid out with an aunt who happened to be the live-in cook in the house of the commander of the León Guardia Civil. Ironically, all the time the ‘Durruti gang’s’ exploits and the big man’s mug shots were splashed across the front pages of the national press, he was living comfortably in the attic of the man leading the search for him — eating his food and drinking his wine.

After a week of the Guardia Civil commander’s hospitality, Durruti moved on to Burgos where he bought the clothes and monkey of an itinerant juggler and street entertainer, before travelling on to Mondragón in the Basque country to meet up with Aurelio Fernández and conclude the arms deal with Zulueta. However, with so much police attention and publicity surrounding the robbery and the nationwide hunt for the anarchists, Zulueta reneged on the original agreement to have the arms delivered to Barcelona, so Durruti and Aurelio had to arrange a temporary hiding place near Bilbao while they made arrangements to transport them to Catalonia, once the heat had died down.

Having filled up sacks with the balance of the money — a little over 400,000 pesetas —the women brought the cash to Barcelona, in bags strapped to their bellies, via San Sebastian, hoping that not even 259

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the Guardia Civil would presume to search pregnant women.

Durruti returned safely to Barcelona via Mondragón, travelling from town to town with his guitar and performing monkey, passing himself off as a busker. Torres Escartín and Eusebio Brau, however, were less fortunate. They chose to stay on in Oviedo until the hue and cry had died down, renting a room from Concepción Lanza, the widow of an old compañero. However, on 8 September, just a week after the robbery, a nosey neighbour told a Guardia Civil patrol, led by Sergeant Antonio Rodríguez, that the widow Lanza had ‘suspicious-looking men’ lodging with her.

Sergeant Rodriguez went with his four-man patrol to investigate the information, but the comrades spotted the green-uniformed men with their shiny patent-leather hats approaching the boarding house and opened fire from the window, wounding two of the Guardia, including the sergeant.

Running upstairs, the comrades escaped through an attic window and across the rooftops, a route they had reconnoitred soon after arriving at the lodging house. By the time reinforcements arrived from the local barracks, their quarry were long gone.

The authorities, however, now knew that at least some of the Gijón robbers were still in Oviedo and set up roadblocks around the city. Early next morning the two comrades were spotted by a Civil Guard patrol on a back road to nearby Llanes. The men ran into a nearby wood, closely pursued by the ‘Benemérita’. Surrounded on all sides, the comrades fought off their attackers for several hours, but eventually ran out of ammunition and made the mistake of venturing into the open to collect weapons from the bodies of dead guardia.

They weren’t quick enough. Brau was shot dead and Torres Escartín seized and beaten senseless by blows from rifle and pistol butts. Despite his serious injuries, the Civil Guard refused Escartín medical attention and kept him incomunicado in their barracks for twenty-four hours before handing him over to the Oviedo police —by which time he was a physical and mental wreck. Taken finally to Zaragoza prison infirmary he was charged — together with Francisco Ascaso, Esteban Salamero and Bernard and Juliana López Maimar — with the murder of Cardinal Archbishop Soldevilla and his secretary.

Primo de Rivera, meanwhile — with the complicity of King Alfonso XIII — was putting the final touches to his long-awaited Mussolinistyle coup. It was now set for the early hours of 15 September.

The pronunciamiento was originally to have been led by General Sanjurjo, the rabidly monarchist captain general of Aragón and 260

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chevalier of the integrist Catholic Hiéron du Val d’Or. Fate intervened, however, when the parliamentary commission investigating army corruption and the ignominious Anual disaster in Morocco unexpectedly brought forward the publication date of the Picasso Report, forcing the army conspirators to advance their plans.

But Catalonia’s powerful industrial and commercial oligarchs were also fervent nationalists and would have no truck with the Castilian monarchist Sanjurjo. They wanted their own man in power.

Frances Cambó, the wiliest of the Catalan leaders, was aware of the Castilian party’s intrigues to install their man in office and, over a meal with his old friend General Primo de Rivera in his sumptuous apartment in the Caldas de Malabella, he asked the general to pre-empt Sanjurjo’s coup. Cambó, Puig i Cadafalch and the patronal all agreed that it was crucial that the political initiative should be seen to come from Barcelona, not from Madrid or Zaragoza. Catalanist pride — and interest — demanded it. It wasn’t simply a question of blocking the publication of the Picasso Report; the Catalan CNT—and the anarchists — had to be eliminated, legally this time.

Assured of the backing of the church, the upper middle classes and the officer class, Primo de Rivera —who had been thinking along similar lines — seized the moment and advanced the date of the coup by two days, to 13 September. Alfonso XIII never forgave him for this, but faced with a fait accompli and dependant on the political backing of the Catalanists, the king had no choice but to accept the situation.

On the afternoon of 12 September, Primo de Rivera convened a meeting of the staff officers of the Barcelona garrison to announce, formally, his intention to establish himself as dictator of Spain. With him were Alfons Sala, a right wing deputy and an industrialist, and the Conde de Güell, both important movers and shakers and close friends of the king. Primo also had the support of an inner circle of right-wing officers of ‘La Traza’, or ‘The Project’, proto-fascists who wore blue shirts to manifest their political allegiance to fascism.

The bloodless and —shamefully —unresisted coup took place in the early hours of 13 September. Primo de Rivera dissolved García Prieto’s government and closed the Cortes, the Spanish parliament, a scenario played out almost exactly as Lenin and the Bolsheviks had done with the Constituent Assembly in October 1917, and similar in many ways to Mussolini’s seizure of power in Italy. Primo de Rivera admired the Italian dictator with almost childlike idolatry.

The CNT’s ‘notables’, however, didn’t want to know, and although Regional Committee members had been fully briefed in advance about the military’s plans by Captain Sancho, they refused to call a general 261

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strike. Instead, they went to Manresa to discuss, of all things, ‘handwriting reform’, the subject of an article submitted to Soli by Ángel Pestaña.

As far as the action groups and defence cadres were concerned, the coup didn’t affect our plans for armed insurrection in the slightest.

The state was the state, and capitalism was capitalism, no matter who was clinging on at the top of the pyramid. And, although we expected the CNT regional and national committees to call a general strike, we didn’t intend risking our lives to resist a military coup in order to defend the reactionary anti-working-class bourgeois government that was being toppled from power. We had our own agenda —to declare Libertarian Communism, but at a time and places of our own choosing!

I was in the Café Español when Laureano brought the news.

‘Have you heard the latest?’ he asked. ‘No. What’s happened?’ I replied.

‘Primo de Rivera has declared himself dictator of Spain. He claims to have the backing of the military, the police and the Guardia Civil — and probably most of the civil authorities as well. The barracks are on high alert and have been told to be ready to go into the streets at any moment.’

Even though we knew of Primo’s plans, the news still came as a shock. We hurried from the Paral.lel to the Plaça de Catalunya, our usual meeting place in times of crisis, to find out what was happening, but no one knew anything other than gossip and rumour. Strangely, there were no troops to be seen, no unusual numbers of Guardia Civil or signs of much police activity on the streets, so we had to wait until dawn when the first editions of the morning papers arrived with their banner headlines — ‘General acts to save Spain!’ A few national newspapers such as the ‘leftist’ El Sol and El Liberal hedged their editorial bets and refused to choose between ‘eechie’ or ‘ochie’, but most newspapers favoured the coup. There were no serious protests and people went on with their everyday lives as though nothing untoward had happened.

We waited with bated breath to see what the king would do on his return from holiday in San Sebastian. At mid-day on 15 September he arrived at Madrid’s Atocha station to be met by his ousted prime minister, Garcia Prieto, who asked him to denounce the rebel general.

Instead, the king sacked Prieto and his government on the spot — then telegraphed Primo de Rivera, ‘Spain’s Mussolini’, summoning him to Madrid to be formally sworn in as president of the ‘National Directorate’ and absolute ruler of Spain — under the king, of course.

Primo de Rivera’s first act was to suspend civil liberties and constitutional rights, and appoint a new vice-premier and minister of 262

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the interior — General Severiano Martínez Anido.

Primo’s reasons for seizing power and creating the first formal fascist dictatorship in Spanish history (almost contemporaneous with that of Mussolini in Italy) were predictably self-serving: the need to halt the ‘chaos’ created by the illegal and irresponsible strike actions instigated by working-class malcontents (i.e., the CNT rank and file), the threat of terrorism, revolution, communist propaganda, separatist agitation, the growth of crime and atheism — all of which were synonymous and inter-linked as far as the oligarchs were concerned — inflation, the problem of Morocco, restoring order to the financial markets and the ‘inanity of democratic politics’. Noticeable by its absence was the elephant in the room — the Picasso Report.

Primo de Rivera wasn’t kidding anyone. The whole of Spain knew his seizure of power had been a farce, a last-ditch attempt by the establishment to protect the king’s reputation —as well as that of the monarchy itself — from the findings of the damning parliamentary Picasso Report exposing army corruption and the mishandling of the Moroccan war, for which the king was directly responsible. No surprise then that when the army stormed the Cortes to dissolve parliament, the first thing the soldiers did was confiscate all copies of the explosive Picasso Report, which compromised the whole military jing-bang, from the lowest corrupt corporals to the king himself.

Union morale was at an all-time low; membership plummetted and an air of widespread apathy and despondency blanketed the entire spectrum of political society. Not one of the political parties expressed the slightest glimmer of protest against the pronunciaminto. It was shameful.

The CNT National Committee finally called a general strike in the early hours of 14 September, but without the support of the UGT and the Socialist Party. The response was so embarrassingly unenthusiastic that the strike fizzled out in less than 24 hours, doing more damage to the CNT’s credibility than to that of the golpistas. The will to resist just wasn’t there and, although the union wasn’t immediately outlawed, it went quietly into the dark night of repression.

The ease with which Primo took power, unchallenged, was painful to witness, especially after all the talk of the previous months.

But with the limited resources available to us there was no way that the groups could have resisted the coup successfully without substantial support from the army itself —which we didn’t have. Even so, none of us had any intention of abandoning the struggle.

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Determined to resist, we set up the Committee for Revolutionary Coordination to raise funds — through bank expropriations — and organise the distribution of what weapons we had from existing arms caches. Unfortunately we couldn’t access the guns Durruti had purchased in Eibar with the proceeds of the Gijón bank job. At the time of the Primo de Rivera coup those guns were in a cache on the French side of the Pyrenees, but with the border so tightly controlled we had to leave the arms in France. In fact it took us another thirteen years before we could ship the Eibar weapons to Barcelona.

We had more luck with the bank robberies, of which there were many during that second half of September. One in Tarrassa went badly wrong. Someone shot and killed a Sometent vigilante by the name of Joan Castella who attempted to arrest the comrades as they ran out of the Tarrassa National Savings Bank with the swag. Castella’s colleagues pursued the escaping comrades, shooting as they went, until the anarchists’ car ploughed into a fallen tree while driving through a wood at high speed.

Abandoning the car, the comrades escaped through the undergrowth where they ran into a waggoner who thought he was being ambushed by ruffians. Lashing out at them with his whip he shouted for help and was heard by the Sometent, still in pursuit. Being more numerous and better armed, the Sometent overwhelmed and detained two of the comrades — Josep Saleta ‘El Nano’ and Jesús Pascual —both members of the Food Workers’ Union. The rest escaped and made it back to Barcelona. One unlucky character, Joaquin Marco — who was neither involved in the robbery nor an anarchist — was arrested at Tarrassa train station when he refused to confirm his identity or explain his presence in the town, which resulted in him being charged with murder and robbery.

Determined to prove to the world how much of a new broom he was, Primo de Rivera ordered that the three men be tried by drumhead court-martial, the most summary of military trials. Tried and sentenced within three days of their arrest, Salep and Pascual both admitted their guilt, but Marco, the man arrested at the station, continued to insist on his innocence.

In the early evening of 22 September all three were transferred to the condemned cells in Tarrassa jail to await execution, by garrotevil, at dawn the following day. Three hours before the execution, Saleto made a sworn statement to the prison director that Marco had not been involved in the attack and was not known to them. The director did the decent thing and informed the judge, who sent a pardon in time to prevent Marco’s execution, ordering his immediate release. It 264

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emerged later that the gallant Marco had been having an affair with a married woman and had refused to reveal her name on grounds of principle, preferring instead to face the garrote. Marco, unsurprisingly, was so anxious to get out of Tarrassa that he didn’t wait for the train and set off for Barcelona on foot — at a trot.

And so, just before dawn on 23 September, Josep Saleta, El Nano, and Jesús Pascual were escorted to the tiny chapel adjoining the condemned cells by prison functionaries and Dominican monks, the ‘brothers of charity and peace’ — the order that traditionally accompanied condemned men on their final walk to the garrote.

At 5:25 am as the first rays of the new day appeared over the high prison walls, the two comrades were taken out to the patio where the gruesome sentence was to be carried out. Jesús Pascual went first.

Seizing the condemned man, the warders forced him into the chair while the executioner bound his arms and legs with a leather harness, then covered his head with sacking. As the executioner adjusted the metal collar Jesús shouted his last defiant words to the assembled functionaries and dignitaries who had come to see ‘Justice done’: ‘Viva el anarquismo!’

The executioner cranked the lever a full 180-degree turn, then gave it another full turn to complete the deadly process; the victim’s head lurched to the left, exaggeratedly, as if it were about to part from his torso. When the terrible deed was done, the prison doctor stepped up to ensure there was no heartbeat, and pronounced: ‘It is finished.’

One of the warders undid the straps holding Jesús’s lifeless remains in place, hoisted the corpse onto his shoulder and carried it to one of the two coffins by the wall. Minutes later it was El Nano’s turn. Several minutes had passed since he last heard his comrade’s voice; now it was his turn to face death. He, too, defied his executioners bravely, shouting ‘Viva el anarquismo!’ as they clamped the collar round his neck, still warm from the touch of his dead comrade.

These two comrades were Primo de Rivera’s first victims, but if the dictator’s advisers believed their judicial murder would intimidate and frighten the groups they were wrong. The morning Pascual and Saleta were garroted, anarchist groups carried out six major robberies across Catalonia, Aragón and Valencia.

The Socialist Party did what all social-democratic labour parties always do best in these situations and opted for self-interest over principle. They accepted Primo de Rivera’s invitation to join his first government, and within days Largo Caballero had been appointed the dictator’s new minister of labour, and the UGT, the socialist trade union, became an official cog in his appararatus of repression.

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Pablo Iglesias, that grand old man of Spanish socialism and the Socialist Party, signed a joint statement issued by both the party and the union, declaring party support for the new order and warning trade unionists against ‘making any verbal, written or physical act of protest against the dictatorship’ on the grounds that ‘it would provoke repression’.

The Libres continued to function openly, but the CNT, which was also allowed to keep going, albeit on sufferance, remained at the mercy of its enemies who were quick to take advantage of the opportunity to finally do away with the anarcho-syndicalists. That was when the Lasarte card index came into its own, providing as it did the basis for the arrests of hundreds of CNT militants. By December, the CNT decided that it was time to go underground to avoid total annihilation.

Primo de Rivera announced that his was a ‘muy macho’ manifesto ... a movement of ‘real men’, and warned those who did not feel sufficiently masculine to stay at home: By virtue of the confidence and the mandate I have received —from the king, army and church — we will constitute in Madrid a provisional military directorate to maintain public order. We do not wish to be ministers, nor do we have any ambitions other than serving Spain. Our country demands responsibility in public life — quickly and justly ...

Asked by an Italian journalist from the fascist journal Imperio if his actions had been inspired by Mussolini’s march on Rome, Primo de Rivera replied that ‘Il Duce’ was, certainly, ‘an example to us all.

Who knows? Perhaps we inspired them; after all, in Spain we have the Sometent and we have had Prim, a great political and military figure …’ But he let the proverbial cat out of the bag when he added that his greatest desire was for Spain to ‘follow in the footsteps of Italian fascism’, and that ‘Spanish fascism would help to liberate the country from harmful elements and —together with Mussolini —I will lead the universal campaign against revolution and anarchy to achieve order, work, and justice.’

Primo de Rivera’s next move was to form his own ultra-rightwing party, the Unión Patriótica, which he based closely on the Italian fascist blackshirt gangs.

With the Cortes out of the way, Primo de Rivera’s ‘reforms’ consisted mainly in changing the names of the ministries and installing his own placemen, such as General Martínez Anido, in power, along with another sworn enemy of the CNT, General Arlegui, who became his director-general of security.

Shortly after the coup, Arlegui accompanied King Alfonso and Primo de Rivera on an official state visit to Rome to meet his Italian 266

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Interior Ministry counterpart, Arturo Bocchini, founder of the Organizzazione di Vigilanza Repressione dell’Antifascismo, OVRA — the Organisation for Vigilance Against Anti-Fascism. The purpose of the meeting was to agree a secret protocol formalising collusion between their secret police organisations for the monitoring and persecution of their respective anarchist movements. Bocchini, like Arlegui, was obsessed with anarchists — hardly surprising given that they were the most active and uncompromising opponents of both regimes, and the main threat to the lives of Il Duce, Primo de Rivera and their respective kings, capitalists and acolytes.

The repression that followed Mussolini’s seizure of power in 1922 had forced many Italian anarchists to flee abroad, many of them coming to Spain. Infiltrated into this diaspora, however, were a large number of Interior Ministry agents provocateurs, secret agents, double agents and pond life with protezione masquerading as anarchists.

Some of these were to prove particularly troublesome to the international movement over the years —agents and ingénues such as Bernardo Cremonini, Candido Testa, Globbe Giopp, Alfredo Cimadori, Emilio Strafelini, minor villains who nevertheless cost countless compañeros not only their freedom but also their lives.

Spain’s North African colonies continued to be a problem for Madrid, especially when Mustapha Kemal’s victories over the Greeks at the battles of Sakarya and Dumlupinar threatened to trigger a Moslem uprising along the length of Africa’s Mediterranean coast from Egypt to Morocco. To resolve the problem, Primo de Rivera, the king and the Africanists in the administration, turned to Martínez Anido who had already proved himself ruthless in repressing rebel movements, appointing him temporary military governor of Melilla in Morocco.

The thinking behind this appointment soon became apparent.

Within days of Martínez Anido’s arrival in Africa, the rebel leader Abd el-Krim’s personal envoy, Dris Ben Said, was ambushed and murdered by plain-clothes pistoleros, thus ending any possibility of a peaceful resolution to the Moroccan crisis.

On a personal level, we focused all our energies on springing Francisco Ascaso, Torres Escartín, Inocencio Piña and the half-dozen other compañeros languishing in Zaragoza’s Los Predicadores prison.

The operation was planned by García Vivancos, who had good contacts among the soldiers guarding the prison’s perimeter walls, some of whom belonged to the anti-militarist committee. Suddenly and without warning, however, their regiment was replaced by one in 267

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which we had no known supporters or sympathisers.

Vivancos made overtures to soldiers from the new garrison, men he thought might be friendly, but they proved to be distinctly unsympathetic and he was arrested. Fortunately, he was able to spin them some complicated but convincing yarn about being a commercial agent for an important Catalan textile firm and was released, but it left him with little choice but to get out of Zaragoza, pronto. By the time he made it back to Barcelona, however, Francisco Ascaso and most of the others had escaped with the help of Manuel Buenacasa.

Torres Escartín, however, wasn’t so lucky! Buenacasa smuggled in a set of keys which got him out of his cell and gallery but, unfortunately after successfully scaling the perimeter wall he dropped over the other side, falling awkwardly and breaking his ankle.

Dragging himself in agony to the doorway of a nearby church he had the bad luck to be discovered by a priest who called the Guardia Civil instead of summoning an ambulance or a doctor. Torres was immediately returned to prison, thrown into solitary confinement and denied medical treatment for over a month. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Over the years I heard many similar stories from compañeros, including Juan Busquets, who was similarly denied treatment following failed escape attempts. In Busquets’ case they broke his leg and smashed his nose. By the time Escartín received medical attention — weeks later — the damage to his ankle was irreversible and left him with a pronounced limp for the rest of his life.

Rafael Torres Escartín was tried by court martial in March 1925 and sentenced to death, a sentence that was commuted to thirty years imprisonment. He remained in prison until 14 April 1931 —the day the Second Republic was declared. Over the years, however, he had been subjected to such cruel and inhumane treatment that he had to be committed to an insane asylum in Barcelona where he remained until April 1939 when he was murdered by victorious Francoists. He was 38t years of age.

Other comrades released that memorable day in April 1931 included Pedro Mateu and Luis Nicolau Fort, the two comrades sentenced to death on 11 October 1923 for assassinating Prime Minister Eduardo Dato. They escaped the death penalty due to pressure from the German courts who agreed to their extradition on the understanding that they would not be executed. Their sentences had been commuted to life imprisonment on 23 January 1924.

Manuel Buenacasa, who organised Ascaso’s escape, insisted that because he was the most deeply implicated in the Soldevilla killing, he should leave for France immediately. Ascaso, however, refused to go 268

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and went, instead, to Barcelona to urge the CNT’s Regional Committee to support a campaign of armed resistance to the dictatorship.

Ascaso’s daring escape was a slap in the face of the authorities, making Anido and Arlegui more determined than ever to avenge themselves on their ‘bêtes noires et rouges’.

‘Our absolute priority,’ said General Arlegui, Primo de Rivera’s new Director General of Security, ‘is to capture the Durruti gang, preferably alive — but dead if necessary. They must be hunted down and exterminated — ruthlessly.’

Freelance pistolero contracts were put out on Durruti and Ascaso to ensure they never came to trial. Arlegui couldn’t run the risk of these two ‘notorious’ anarchists ‘clogging up’ the legal system, ‘winning public sympathy’ and possibly being acquitted by a sympathetic jury.

The Defence Committee and the National and Catalan Regional Committees of the CNT insisted, however, that both men leave immediately for Paris. As a sop they commissioned the exiles to establish a Committee for Revolutionary Co-ordination in exile to work with the Defence Committee to overthrow the dictatorship. Money for this and a Paris-based Spanish-language anarchist publishing house aimed at ‘furthering the struggle against capitalism, the state and organised religion’ was allocated out of the proceeds of the Gijón robbery. I doubt this was out of any real concern for the lives or well being of the two comrades; more likely it was out of pure self-interest as activists like Durruti and Ascaso were dangerous liabilities to the higher committees and ‘notables’.

One negative consequence of the departure of so many militants and rank-and-file activists in the wake of Primo de Rivera’s coup was that the CNT was left entirely in the hands of more pragmatic, utilitarian, complacent and thoroughly compromised syndicalists, such as Ángel Pestaña and Joan Peiró.

NOTES 1: The backlash provoked by the massacre at Anual led to the king reappointing the

brutal Antonio Maura as prime minister, a particularly ominous appointment inasmuch as it was he who had been responsible for the bloody repression that followed the protests against Spain’s previous North African war in 1909 — and for the subsequent execution of Francisco Ferrer i Guardia, whom he and his government framed for the events of the Tragic Week in October of that year.

It looked to us very much as though the forthcoming summer of 1923 would be a replay of July and August 1909 with another social war about to be declared on the working class, a war that Maura was determined to win at any cost.

The arrogant and brutal mentality of the Spanish ruling class at the time may be difficult to comprehend today, but not for those of us who lived through it.

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 The Count of Alba y Yeltes, a latifundista, army captain, and close friend of King Alfonso XIII, told a closed meeting of the patronal, for example, that ‘plague and pestilence’ were needed to ‘slaughter the organised Spanish working class’: They are slave stock …They are like animals. You can’t expect them not to be infected with the virus of Bolshevism. After all, rats and lice carry the plague. I hope that you can understand what we mean by the regeneration of Spain … If necessary we must be prepared to exterminate up to a third of the male population of Spain, and more if necessary!

The Conde de Coello y Portugal, former governor of Zaragoza, éminence grise and pistoleros patron was the new minister of the interior, an appointment that signalled an immediate increase in the number of street slayings, more prisoners’ being force-marched in ‘strings’ across country to Galicia, and even more summary executions under the cover of the ley de fugas.

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TOULOUSE, SATURDAY 27 NOVEMBER 1976

After a late lunch, with everyone seated, Farquhar opened the file on the table in front of him and resumed his argument. Téllez and the other jurors had had a word with him during the break concerning the length and presentation of his case, which was in danger of acquiring epic proportions. It was, they reminded him, a hearing not a trial.

‘Comrades, I won’t take up any more of your time with the oftenrepeated charges against Germinal Esgleas and Federica Montseny, and their schismatic role in the tragic history of our movement since 1936. They are matters of which we are all aware, but as the facts and the historical evidence relating to them are disputed, subjective, open to misrepresentation and, arguably, based on prejudiced hearsay, this is neither the time nor the place to deal with them, nor are we equipped to do so. I intend, therefore, to focus on more recent events.

‘In the autumn of 1963, Cerrada obtained —by means I won’t go into —a summary of some of the secret information held by the Francoist and Gaullist special services on the CNT and, in particular, Defensa Interior, DI, the clandestine organisation responsible for coordinating the anti-Francoist action groups and the attempts on the dictator’s life.

The reports, dated between September 1961 and August 1963, were extensive, accurate, well-informed and up-to-date, indicating the presence of a top level informer or undercover operative. Tellingly, these reports made no reference to Esgleas and only a passing reference to Montseny as editor of CNT.(1) ‘Through a DI intermediary, comrade Luis Andrés Edo, the secretary of the Paris Local Federation of Young Libertarians, Cerrada 271

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arranged for the list to be shown to Esgleas, who was at the time still secretary of the DI. Esgleas told Luis that the news didn’t surprise him but he had certain enquiries in hand and that Luis should take no further action, nor should he discuss the matter with anyone for fear of prejudicing those enquiries. Nothing was ever done about the leak, and with Esgleas and Vicente Llansola, his right-hand man, ostensibly responsible for planning Franco’s assassination, resigning a few months later, the matter was never investigated.

‘In September 1963, after Delgado and Granado’s judicial murder, the French police arrested over 100 Libertarian Youth activists, of whom none were Esgleas’s supporters. The detentions, and the subsequent outlawing of the FIJL, tilted the voting balance in the emigré CNT in favour of the Esgleas faction. Equally intriguing is the coincidence that in October 1963, a month after the mass arrests, when all the key anarchist activists were in jail, including Cipriano Mera and José Palacios Pascual, the French authorities authorised the CNT in exile to hold its congress in Toulouse — for the first time ever!

Remember, this was the Congress at which Germinal Esgleas was elected secretary-general. Very convenient, don’t you think?

‘Comrades, like Cerrada I contend that the police agent referred to in the French police report as ‘The Priest’, is none other than Germinal Esgleas and that he has been a long-standing traitor at the heart of the organisation. I also accuse his partner, Federica Montseny, of being equally complicit in her partner’s treachery. My accusation may appear melodramatic, a charge too far that few would hesitate to entertain let alone give voice to, but there is more damning evidence than the hearsay and conjecture you have heard so far. I have it here,’ said Farquhar, producing a file of papers from his briefcase, spreading them before the members of the panel.

‘This is a deposition Cerrada took from a comrade in Belgium, the maitre d’ at Brussels’s prestigious Hotel Metropole.’

‘In February this comrade’s job involved him being in attendance during the 19th Grand Dinner Charlemagne, an annual event organised by the ultra-right-wing European Academy of Political Science (AESP). The dinner was hosted by the grand fromage himself, Archduke Otto von Habsburg, heir to the thrones of the former Austria-Hungary, Bohemia, Moravia, Croatia, Slovenia, Slovakia, Bosnia and Herzegovina and various other long defunct phantasmagorical kingdoms, dukedoms and sovereign orders. Otto von Habsburg is also the Opus Dei and Dominican Order’s candidate for the permanent presidency of the European Council of the EU. Our comrade’s position as maitre d’ meant he had been involved with running these grand 272

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dinners for the previous seven years, so he knew the organisers and the subjects that were likely to be discussed at the pre- and post-dinner seminars.

‘The theme of this particular dinner, which was held just three months after Franco’s death, was After Helsinki? — The Third World War? The Helsinki accords, for those who may not know, are a treaty intended to improve relations between the Soviet bloc and the West, but which pan-European reactionaries such as Otto von Habsburg see as a diplomatic and moral victory for international communism and the Soviet Union.

‘This year’s impressive guest list included an unusually large contingent of well-known and not-so-well-known Francoist politicians, bankers and functionaries: Manuel Fraga Iribarne, Spain’s vice president and interior minister, Federico Silva Muñoz, leader of the Acción Democrática Española, Cruz Martínez Esteruelas, president of the Unión del Pueblo Español (UDPE), Ambassador Miguel Maria de Lojendio, General Andrés Cassinello Pérez, chief of the Guardia Civil secret service, secret service chief Javier Calderón, José Antonio Girón de Velasco, Raimundo Fernández-Cuesta y Merelo, Blas Piñar, former Civil Guard director-general Carlos Iniesta Cano, and Salazarists such as General Spinola and Antonio Champalimaud, heir to Portugal’s most powerful banking and industrial empire. It was obvious to our comrade that the focus of the seminar this year would be on Spain after Franco, and Portugal after the recent “Carnation Revolution” and that it would be of considerable interest to the organisation.

‘When he saw the guest list and the theme of the dinner, the maitre d’ immediately contacted Cerrada, who asked him to recruit as many local comrades as possible to work as waiters at the dinner and glean whatever information they could while waiting on tables.

Cerrada also asked if it were possible to plant recording devices — which he would provide — at the Spanish tables, which he later did.

‘The deposition the maitre d’ subsequently sent to Cerrada, copies of which you have before you, includes transcripts of recorded conversations between senior CESID officers and politicians, with clear references to “Operación Bienvenida”, “Operación Galaxia” and their strategy for the “transition”, with particular regard to their “agents of influence” within the CNT in Toulouse. The document names no names, but the conversations allude to the Francoist special services’ most important agent of influence as “The Priest”, whom they describe as a “veritable intelligence goldmine”. This character is, apparently, and I quote: “a long-standing member of the MLE Executive Council; a man whose position at the heart of the CNT and FAI in exile gives 273

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him not only influence, but access to insider gossip as well as the movement’s records, files, and the minutes of its most secret meetings”.

‘The transcript continues: “Since the end of our Glorious National Crusade he [“The Priest”] has provided invaluable information that has allowed us to take successful counter-subversion measures against the anarchist action groups”. Particular reference is made in one of these conversations to his role in providing the information that led directly to the deaths of José Luis Facerías and Quico Sabaté who were killed in police and Guardia Civil ambushes in 1957 and 1960 respectively.

‘Furthermore — and crucially — in 1961 this “super-agent” was directly involved in setting up the now re-united CNT’s clandestine DI section, whose primary purpose was to assassinate Franco. It was “The Priest” who provided Franco’s intelligence services with a nearly complete list of DI activists and sympathisers across Europe, even arranging to infiltrate undercover DGS (General Security Directorate) operatives into the DI, having first endorsed them as trusted activists.

“The Priest’s” role, and that of his agents of influence, would, they insisted, be crucial to the success of “Operación Bienvenida” in the run-up to the county’s first democratic elections next June.

‘Cerrada also acquired copies of Esgleas’s Swedish, Swiss and London bank account statements. What you have before you, gentlemen, are facsimiles of his correspondence with Enskilda Bank in Stockholm, Credit Suisse in Zurich, and the Bank of Credit and Commerce International in London, all of which relate to accounts held in his name. As you can see, the oldest is the numbered Credit Suisse account, which was opened in July 1939 with an initial deposit of 15 million French francs. Coincidentally, the “honourable” person who “introduced” him to the bank was none other than the mysterious freemason and MLE/CNT bank account signatory André Germaine.

This account was opened less than a month after Marianet’s death, round about the same time that Esgleas was claiming that the secret of the CNT’s assets had “sunk without trace to the bottom of the Marne” along with with corpse of the secretary-general.

‘Subsequent transfers and deposits made in September and October that year brought the total amount up to 40 million French francs. The letters also refer to six safety-deposit boxes held in Esgleas’s name in the Zurich vaults. The most recent Swiss bank statement, however, shows a balance of only 50,000 French francs.

‘The Swedish krona account, also in Esgleas’s name, had comrade Helmut Rüdiger as a co-signatory. The sums involved were substantial —500,000 Swedish krona, then a further 200,000 krona — which correlate with the funds channelled to the Toulouse CNT over 274

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the years by SAC Central. This was what the Swedish union called its “Spanish account”. Again, not much is left in this account either. Where has it all gone, and on what was it spent one might ask? Unfortunately, we can’t ask comrade Rüdiger as he died in mysterious circumstances in 1966 during a visit to the CNT National Committee in Madrid to establish what had happened to the Swedish union’s contributions.

‘While the first two accounts clearly relate to what I suggest are the misappropriated and embezzled movement funds, of considerably more interest is the BCCI London account with its current balance of £100,000 in sterling, an amount which is regularly topped up by transfers from another BCCI bank account in Madrid. Considerable sums of money have been moved around here, including regular monthly payments to Jacínto Guerrero Lucas, Inocencio Martínez and a dozen or so other companies and individuals, including a Joaquín Gambín, names — apart from those of Guerrero and Martínez — that are unknown to me, but who may well be known to comrades in the interior. What we do know is that the first two are French-based police confidentes, both of whom are protégés of Germinal Esgleas who, according to what Inocencio Martinez recently admitted to Busquets and myself, was responsible for their recruitment by Franco’s special services.’

‘Wait a minute,’ interjected Miguel Garcia. ‘I did time with a Joaquín Gambín in San Miguel de los Reyes. I wonder if it’s the same one? He certainly wasn’t political then; he was in for robbery and male prostitution. His main claim to fame was for escaping from the Alcázar de San Juan. He scaled the wall in broad daylight, stole a motorcycle in Cordoba and drove all the way to the Pyrenees, which he crossed on foot. In France he was involved in petty crime and was eventually deported back to Spain, which was when I knew him, in San Miguel de los Reyes. We organised an escape together, but he blew it, leaving me to carry the can. I haven’t heard of the bastard since.’

‘It’s possible that it’s the same person,’ said Farquhar. ‘As to motives, we will probably never understand what human frailty moves people to defraud and betray their friends, their comrades —and their ideals: weakness, fear, survival, greed, power? Corruption, comrades, is a gradual and complex process, which, like the mills of God, grinds exceeding small.

‘These payments, I contend, together with the links to Jacínto Guerrero Lucas and the others are evidence of a clear chain from the Francoist Ministry of the Interior — and possibly even Washington — through Esgleas in Toulouse to the pistoleros and provocateurs who murdered Cerrada and who have been trying to murder me.

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‘Esgleas and Montseny had both the means and the opportunity.

Their international commitments, established through their respective roles and their standing among the countless, gerrymandered, little local federations they controlled around Toulouse, provided the perfect opportunity to travel to the UK, the USA, Sweden and Switzerland, to meet whoever they wanted, and to draw thousands of francs from their foreign bank accounts for whatever purpose they chose. They answered to no one. As long as the Francoists remained in power and the CNT was a proscribed organisation in Spain there was little likelihood of them ever being called to account for their funds.

‘So, when it emerged —through journalist and former comrade Eliseo Bayo’s boastful indiscretions about his Gaceta Ilustrada coup to the heavily infiltrated Lyndon LaRouche cult in Wiesbaden, for whom Bayo was now working — that Cerrada had uncovered this information and was set to expose them, blowing the “Bunker” plot and “Operación Bienvenida” sky-high, they and their political masters were left with no alternative. Cerrada had to be silenced to protect both “Operación Bienvenida” and Esgleas and Montseny as their “agents of influence”.

‘Bayo was no threat to them; he knew when to keep his mouth shut, and was easily bought off with an editorial desk job — and the promise of his life. I, on the other hand, was a loose cannon. I was too close to Cerrada and was unlikely to keep what I knew to myself, so I too was a danger to their plot and had to be eliminated, hence the attempts to kill me in Paris and in Lyon.’

Farquhar paused. Looking around the room, his eyes suddenly lit with passion. ‘Comrades, I appreciate that this is a case of unprecedented sensitivity. I know only too well how galling it will be for us to have to admit, publicly, that Federica Montseny, the “iconic symbol” of the heroic Spanish struggle, and her partner, Germinal Esgleas, the movement’s most prominent bureaucrat and ideological standard-bearer of “non-collaboration”, are rogues who have, for years, been betraying our comrades to the special services of both Spain and France. That they have been responsible for a shocking series of deceptions and betrayals; setting up their comrades for arrest or death in police and Civil Guard ambushes, to say nothing of their subsequent torture, imprisonment and execution. Even now, a year after Franco’s death, they are determined to retain their control of a unified CNT at all costs. They are colluding in a criminal intrigue with the pillars of the old regime who are desperate to avoid prosecution for their war crimes and retain their illegally and immorally acquired wealth, 276

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property, privilege, power and influence.

‘I am not looking for revenge or punishment for whatever Esgleas and Montseny may or may not have done; that is for others to decide, but we do need to deal with the clear and present danger of “Operación Bienvenida” as well as understand and draw the necessary lessons from our history. Movements like ours — open, libertarian, trusting, idealistic and democratic — are too easily penetrated and manipulated by provocateurs and conspirators ready to exploit that idealism, and discredit us in order to protect their criminal intrigues.

‘We know from our own bitter experiences how even the most high-minded, idealistic, but still all-too-human comrades can be compromised and corrupted by ruthless manipulators and spymasters whose primary job it is to seed uncertainty and discord and, where necessary, sponsor terrorism in defence of the status quo.

‘The question is how do we protect ourselves —and our values?

To be honest, it is endemical and insoluble; it goes with the territory.

There is little we can do other than be vigilant, expose and, where appropriate, sanction these people as and when we identify them.

Ultimately, however, the fault is ours. We have solidarity, faith in individual conscience and respect for the validity of honestly held opinions. We have acquiesced in the perversion of the core value of our movement: distrust of power. We did this between November 1936 and April 1939, and have continued to do so throughout the long years of exile. Our cohesion and effectiveness as a movement depended on that principle.

‘Esgleas, Montseny, Marianet, García Oliver and the others did what they did because we, the rank-and-file, failed to uphold our priciples, or challenge the “notables” when they were first seduced into believing that anarchist ideas were somehow compatible with statist and party-political activity. Before they began deflecting the popular will and dismantling the achievements of the social revolution of July 1936 under the smoke-and-mirror sophistry of “anti-fascism” and the weasel-like, self-serving, bourgeois philosophical constructs of the “greater good”. We, of all people, should have understood the corrupting hold that power has over people of every persuasion, anarchists included! But still we allowed them to get away with it — and we have paid the consequences in defeat and in exile.

‘We may not be in a position to punish Esgleas and Montseny as I believe they deserve to be punished, but at the very least they should be exposed as exemplars of the fundamental anarchist truth, as observed by Bakunin, that: “even the most vociferous radicals, once in power, become the most moderate conservatives Such turnabouts are 277

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usually, and mistakenly, regarded as a kind of treason, but their principal cause is the inevitable change of position and perspective that power brings.”

‘In the case of Esgleas and Montseny, however, it wasn’t simply a change of perspective — it was downright treachery! Like the parasitic, crepuscular Thénardiers of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, for years they have preyed on the corpses of our battlefields, ruthlessly exploiting the trust placed in them by the rump of the once-great working-class movement they appropriated, manipulated and reshaped for their own selfish ends. Compañeros, I rest my case.’

Around 6:00pm, Antonio Téllez, the panel foreman, turned to Esgleas and Montseny.

‘Is there anything you’d like to say regarding the case made by comrade McHarg?’

‘Certainly,’ replied Federica Montseny, rising to her feet. ‘I should also like to reply on behalf of my compañero, Germinal — who is unwell. I will, however, try to keep it short and to the point, unlike señor McHarg here who has cast himself in the role of a latter-day Andrey Januaryevich Vyshinskiy, Stalin’s prosecutor in the show trials of the mid-1930s.’

She surveyed the room with her hallmark stern and uncompromising stare. Clearly she was not going to give any ground, reinforced by the stance she had adopted of one about to address a mass meeting, or of a headmistress preparing to admonish naughty schoolchildren during school assembly. Farquhar reflected, to himself, that she was still, indeed, the consumate politician she always had been.

‘Our original intention, comrades, was to refuse to recognise these sham legal proceedings, which can only be described as a kangaroo court — a complete denial of justice and due process . . .’ She paused here for dramatic effect. ‘. . . But señor McHarg’s meandering calumnies are so grotesquely untrue that we have no option but to deny them, absolutely and emphatically, as a matter of public record.

‘McHarg is clearly under the spell of his late friend Cerrada’s obsessive hatred of my partner, myself and all of us who opposed the way this mafioso was corrupting our organisation and turning it into his personal criminal empire. Drunk on paranoia he is totally blind to all rational, critical thought. What you have heard here today is nothing less than a Grimm’s fairy tale based on a paranoid vendetta and the downright lies of a criminal fantasist determined to revenge himself on 278

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us, even from beyond the grave, for his expulsion in 1950, and for his subsequent arrest on charges of a purely criminal nature.

‘From what we have heard today, it appears that the Francoists have succeeded in spinning an intricate phantasmagorical mesh of deception around us with a web of innuendo, conjecture, forged documents and falsified foreign bank statements. Comrades, are we not, by now, even, fully aware of the tricks they play upon the movement all the time? They need us to be divided and suspicious, and what better targets than myself and my compañero here for sowing discord? What better way to divide us than to impugn the integrity of the very leaders of the movement?

‘Comrades, while we regard the accusations made by comrade McHarg as paranoid fantasies, we will not insult you by ignoring them, which is, frankly, what they deserve. We will — in due course — properly refute these accusations, furnishing sufficient hard evidence of our innocence. We are confident that we will not only repudiate the charges, but utterly discredit them as well. However, we must crave your indulgence. We will, of course, need time and expert witnesses to examine these documents in detail., but rest assured that they are forgeries and we will prove it.

She paused to take in the room, especially the three members of the jury panel. It seemed to Farquhar a hint of a smile was playing around her thin lips and puckered mouth. She looked as humourless as ever, but there was a faint air of smug satisfaction about her all the same.

'The forger may even have been Cerrada himself. He certainly had the necessary skills, as you very well know. No, comrades, we are the victims here, not the accused. As for Martínez’s ‘confession’, all we have are McHarg’s and Busquets’s unverifiable statements for this, but one must also ask why did Martínez confess so readily — and unprompted — to being a police agent? Was this in reality part of the trap that was being laid for us? Likewise, with the statement from the unidentified Maitre d’ at the Hotel Metropole in Brussels; who is this man, and can he be cross-examined?

‘If this is indeed a trial, which it clearly is although no one seems prepared to admit it, then we demand the right to summon and crossexamine witnesses, the right to exclude improperly obtained evidence, or hearsay evidence that is irrelevant or inherently inadmissible, the right not to incriminate ourselves or to be tried on secret evidence, the right to control our own defence, the right to exclude panel members on the grounds of partiality or conflict of interest—and, of course, the right of appeal.

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‘We cannot, of course, produce here and now evidence to disprove much of what has been said about us today. We had no advance knowledge that we stood accused of, let alone that we would be dragged before this self-serving “Honour Jury” or “Arbitration Panel”, or however you want to describe these unethical proceedings in the name of expediency. Had we known, we would at least have been able to prepare a proper defence. As it is, this entire construct, cloaked under the name of “honour”, can be nothing less than another monstrous plot by the Francoist services to further divide our movement at a pivotal moment in our country’s history. Somehow, señor McHarg here has been sucked into the plot, either by chance or design, or out of a sense of misplaced loyalty to his low-life friend who, as you know, was none too fussy about whom he dealt with. I put it to you, comrades, that there is nothing in what we have heard here that even implies our complicity with our enemies, but there is sufficient circumstantial evidence to suggest that comrade McHarg is — or may be — complicit, whether deliberately or as the tool of someone considerably cleverer.

‘For years now the National Committee of the CNT-MLE in Exile has been targeted by thoughtless, jealous, ill-informed gossip-mongers within our own ranks. To genuine critics of our stewardship of the movement we have always responded openly and with dignity — as and when appropriate. Equally, we have been victims of malicious misinformation campaigns by the spurious committees of the interior who are working hand-in-glove with the black propagandists of the Puerta del Sol. As for the wild, fabricated allegations made by our enemies — as with the “charges” made against us today by señor McHarg — we have remained silent — and we will continue to do so.

To comment now would simply add weight to their credibility. Apart from anything else it is impossible to prove a negative, hence our decision to remain silent ‘As for Jacinto Guerrero Lucas and Inocencio Martínez, we do not dispute for a minute that they may well be confidentes, as McHarg states, but neither Germinal nor I were aware of this, certainly as regards Guerrero Lucas, until four years ago. The moment we realised he was a police infiltrator and had probably planted the two bombs in these offices in August 1963, we had him thrown out and had nothing further to do with him. As for Martínez, we have only learned here, today that, according to McHarg, he too is a confidente, but we haven’t yet heard Martínez’s side of the story.

‘What we do dispute, however, vigorously, is that we were their paymasters, or that we have been in league with them, the CESID, the 280

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DGS, the BPS, the French services or anyone else for that matter —or that we betrayed the MLE, CNT, and our comrades for money or anything else come to that Oh we don’t dispute that we have regular and amicable contacts with the Prefecturate and officers of the RG and the DST, but that is a legal administrative obligation on our part.

We are, after all, a legally registered foreign political and social organisation operating on French soil and under French law.

‘That is to say, our contacts with these people are entirely legitimate, indeed necessary, given the roles we have to play on behalf of our organisation. Moreover, we have been entirely open and candid about them, so señor McHarg's “revelation” is nothing more than old news rehashed and innuendo. I pity señor McHarg, for he is in reality a deluded fool, if not a willing villain.

‘The action cadre members who fell into the hands of Franco’s special services in Spain, or even those arrested in France, may well have done so due to the activities of confidentes and undercover agents, but it is equally likely that many were arrested or walked into ambushes because of incompetence and a lack of security on the part of those same group members. The harsh reality is that in our movement anyone who doesn’t want to hear about clandestine actions only has to cover their ears and wear a blindfold.

‘With Franco’s Gestapo-trained BPS we are dealing with one of the most experienced and sophisticated political police forces in the world. They are adept at penetrating and manipulating emigré and opposition movements, better even than Peter Rakhovsky’s Okhrana or Sir Francis Walsingham’s Elizabethan spy network. What you are witnessing here is the result of a baseless and malicious plot to discredit and neutralise the most vigilant defenders of Spain’s anarchosyndicalist movement, which remains one of the largest of the labour movements in Spain today. It is a ploy that is fully consistent with their past record of provoking emotional tensions and dissent to undermine and discredit our movement, especially during the transition to democracy. They are happy to shed innocent blood in the process, particularly if that blood is ours!

‘As for the allegedly missing union funds, comrade Esgleas has always stated — and he has repeated it here — that he will provide a full historical accounting of the movement’s financial affairs, but it will only be to the first plenary meeting of a re-united CNT inside a free Spain, not before and certainly not to this or that faction of the interior or exile — and certainly not to a kangaroo court such as this.

‘In spite of the falsified bank statements you’ve seen today, and the millions we are alleged to have at our disposal, do you honestly 281

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believe we are people of means? Look at us! We are modest folk living on a meagre income from books, and journalism supplemented by a pittance of a pension. All we possess in the world is a small, rented apartment in the Rue Gaston Phoebus here in Toulouse Do you honestly think we would be living like this if we had the fabulous riches that señor McHarg claims we have at our disposal? No, we would be living in chateaus and great country houses like Azaña, Prieto, Negrín, Ansó, Andreu Abelló, Jesús Hernández and all the other bourgeois robber politicos. That, I repeat, is all ‘we have to say on these matters at this point in time . . .

‘Comrades, I end with this plea. Whatever you may think of us — and I know that many of you have had your differences with us in the past —at least do us the courtesy of allowing us a proper defence.

We need time to examine these documents and prepare an explanation. As comrades, as old comrades in arms against fascism, as anarchists, you must allow us that privilege at least, and I implore you to look within your hearts; justice demands it.’

A murmur spread around the room. Farquhar, shook his head imperceptibly, muttering to himself ‘Ever the politician!’

It was now after 7:00 in the evening. Antonio Téllez consulted briefly with his fellow panel members then addressed the room: ‘If no one has anything further to say I suggest we adjourn these proceedings until tomorrow at mid-day when we shall deliver a summation of our opinions.’

Collecting their notes and folders, the three panel members left the room. Farquhar, Busquets and García followed them downstairs and headed off to join Boticario and Ramonín at a bistro in the nearby Place de Belfort to discuss the day’s proceedings. Esgleas and Montseny remained behind in the Rue de Belfort, surrounded by the acolytes and well-wishers who had been filtering in in increasing numbers during the course of the afternoon as news of the hearing spread. Farquhar and the others weren’t worried about the pair not turning up the next day. They had too much to lose by not doing so.

Not to return would have been a clear admission of guilt.

NOTES 1:

GENERAL SECURITY DIRECTORATE Briefing Paper - 28 September 1961 GENERAL SOCIAL INVESTIGATION COMMISSARIAT GENERAL AND TECHNICAL SECRETARIAT —RS. No 10690/XXIV

CNT ACTIVITIES —IMPORTANT Required reading for the Regional Brigades and Local Social Investigation Sections in accordance with paragraphs d) and e) of the Organisation of Central and Regional Agencies of the General Security Directorate of 28 October

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES 1959 Said agencies are to retain this Boletín Informativo for their own use, taking whatever measures its contents may require in the comarcas under their jurisdiction.

Madrid, 28 September 1961 According to our high-level source ‘The Priest’ and corroboration from our other agents, the National Confederation of Labour has recently held two meetings of exceptional interest. One was of a general nature —the 2nd Inter-continental Congress held in Limoges — and the other of a more restricted character, but involving the adoption of accords that may have a direct bearing on public order and peace on our territory. The latter was the Plenum of Local and Comarcal Federations of the Regional Confederation of Labour of Aragón, Rioja and Navarre ‘extraction’.

While not precluding the possibility of a forthcoming fuller report on that 2nd Congress, these are the data relating to the individuals elected on to the incoming Secretariat, insofar as these seem to be decided supporters of ‘direct action’ in the interior, and those relating to the Plenum of the Federations of Aragón, Rioja and Navarre, because it was agreed at the latter, among other things, that ‘shock’ groups would be formed that are prepared to seize the most significant communications centres, power and electricity stations, radio transmitters and other strategic points.

The entire matter is summarised in accordance with the following table of contents: 2nd CONGRESS OF THE CNT IN EXILE

Incoming Secretariat; quality of the CNT leaders; violent action tactics; tasks in the interior; special sitting THE CNT’S ARAGÓN RIOJA AND NAVARRE REGIONAL

Plenum of Groupings; the delegates; the Regional’s circumstances; ‘The Regional’s development within Spain’; action in the interior; the incoming Regional Committee.

Background note II CONGRESS OF THE CNT IN EXILE

The 2nd Congress of the National Confederation of Labour of Spain in exile took place in Limoges (France) from 27 to 31 August 1961 and the items relating to various provinces were dealt with over a number of sessions.

The incoming Secretariat

In accordance with customary practice, the Congress elected a new Inter-continental Secretariat, with tight votes being cast leaving the following individuals in the final line-up.

General Secretary: ROQUE SANTAMARIA CORTIGUERA, the previous incumbent, was reelected.

Coordinating Secretary: ÁNGEL CARBALLEIRA REGO. Fifty years old, a native of Luzon-Villalba (Lugo), where he has relatives still living, including his brother Antonio.

In exile he served from 1955 to 1958 on the Iberian Anarchist Federation’s Liaison Commission. His home is in Toulouse. It should also be pointed out that ÁNGEL CARBALLEIRA was active in the Action Groups during the 1936-1939 period. In France he lives with EULALIA MONTORIO and their three children, one of them GLORIA CARBALLEIRA MONTORIO, was born in Barcelona on 28 September 1937.

Culture and Propaganda Secretary: MIGUEL CELMA MARTI, native of Calanda (Teruel), was prominent before and during the red era, serving as Company Political Secretary with the III Battalion of the 119th Mixed Brigade, fleeing to France at the end of the conflict. Since 1954 he has been Secretary of the Calanda Liaison Commission

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 and, in 1957 he was appointed General External Relations Secretary with the Iberian Libertarian Youth Federation (FIJL). In 1958 CELMA MARTI joined the Culture and Propaganda Secretariat of the Inter-continental Secretariat, subsequently serving with the CNT Delegation to the International Workers’ Association (AIT).

Organisational Secretary: the previous post-holder, JOSÉ BORRAZ, was reelected.

Administrative Secretary: MARCELINO BOTICARIO. A leading member of the Iberian Anarchist Federation, serving as General Secretary of its Liaison Commission. He currently holds the same post on the FIJL’s Liaison Commission.

Director of CNT: Federica Montseny Mañé was reelected to run the confederation’s newspaper.

Quality of the Leaders

It is interesting to note that the incoming leaders of the Inter-continental Secretariat are recruited from the orthodox confederal faction, most of whom held organisational office in the specific (anarchist) youth wing of the Spanish Libertarian Movement.

This has triggered a degree of discontent among erstwhile militants from the ‘collaborationist’ group which sought to have CIPRIANO MERA SANZ elected to the aforementioned Secretariat, as it appears that he had been canvassed in advance for election, so much so that the groundwork for the organisational work in the interior which he hoped to carry out as holder of the post of Coordinating Secretary had already been laid. As a consequence CIPRIANO MERA SANZ left the meeting before its business was concluded.

Violent Action Tactics

It appears to be the case that the overwhelming mood of the new post-holders on the Inter-continental Secretariat corresponds to the tactics, principles and aims of libertarian communism, and the launching of ‘direct action’ in the interior, since, at the recent gathering, it was discovered that JUAN PINTADO VILLANUEVA, the previous holder of the post of Coordinating Secretary, had done nothing with regard to the interior of Spain. During his mandate, the more or less organised nuclei lacked aid and propaganda material for distribution.

Tasks in the interior

While those named were appointed to fill their posts beginning on the 21st of this month, they have still to take possession. It is regarded as highly likely that from this coming October onwards, they may effect a regrouping of the nuclei in the interior, through sending Delegates or Liaisons, capitalising on the fact that one can cross the border with no more than a French identity document, a document that many CNT members possess on account of their being French subjects.

Special Sitting

It is known that at meetings that took place outside of the parameters of the Congress an eighth item on the Agenda regarding the interior was dealt with. Two individuals who had travelled up from Madrid attended, as did one representing the Andalusia-Extremadura Regional Committee. Thus far their names and particulars are unknown, although the delegate from the latter body may have been LUIS DEL MORAL GIMENEZ, an individual known for his organisational activities in the interior and who has travelled to France on CNT business on previous occasions.

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES THE ARAGÓN, RIOJA AND NAVARRE REGIONAL OF THE CNT IN EXILE Plenum of Groupings

In mid-August last, there was a Plenum held in France of the Comarcal and Local Federations, Residential Groupings and militants of the Regional Confederation of Labour of Aragón, Rioja and Navarre ‘extraction’. It was chaired by the leading CNT member FÉLIX CARRASQUER LAUNED, with a certain MARTIN, the latter representing the Toulouse Delegation and acting as recording secretary, with the former a part of the Paris delegation.

The Delegates

The following individuals were delegates from the locations indicated.

Representing the Paris Organisation.

FÉLIX CARRASQUER LAUNED, JOSÉ ABOS and GIMENO. ABOS was bookkeeper with the CNT’s National Sub-committee in 1957 and a member of the Regional Committee. At present no further information is available on GIMENO. Representing the Toulouse Grouping

JOSÉ MARTI, who lives in that city, at No 22, Rue de Travaseurs.

Representing the Utrillas Comarca

HERRERO and PAZ. Representing the Valderrobles Comarcal

JULIAN FLORISTAN, resident in Décazeville, where he lives with NIEVES GONZALEZ GIL. Contributes articles to the anarchist press.

Representing the Albalate de Cinca Comarcal

JOSÉ ARISO, resident at 23 Rue Bellegarde, Toulouse, where he acts as treasurer with the Local Branch of the SIA (Solidaridad Internacional Antifascista, the anarchosyndicalist aid network).

Representing the Uncastillo Comarcal

CARMELO CASALE CANO, resident in Valence-sur-Baises (Gers) and formerly Secretary of the Condon Local Federation.

VILLA, regarding whom no further details are available.

Representing the Monzón Comarcal

A certain MUR, no further personal details available. Also in attendance were members of the Regional’s Liaison Commission, JOSÉ BORRAZ, LORENZO BERNAL and MIGUEL VALLEJO SEBASTIAN. IGNACIO LAZARO was unable to attend due to illness and it was noted that other militants were absent.

The Regional’s Circumstances

In the course of the proceedings and with regard to the matter of the Organisation in the interior, it was pointed out that there is at present no direct liaison with the comrades, even though, they stressed that they were cognisant, through other avenues, of the existence of the odd nucleus.

Even so, FÉLIX CARRASQUER offered an analysis of the Regional, in exile as well as in the interior, acknowledging that, due to abandonment by the exterior and disillusionment within Spain, the organisational situation was one of utter inactivity

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 due to loss of the confidence and prestige that the CNT had once upon a time enjoyed on account of the mettle of its personnel who had ensured that Aragón was anarcho-syndicalism’s staunchest bulwark.

In his conclusions, CARRASQUER stated that it had proved impossible to keep a Regional Committee up and running in Zaragoza for more than four months, and that in the days when there was an Organisation, for example during the 1943 to 1947 period. He also pointed out that as a result of police repression it was hard to find ‘untouchables’ suited to organisational office in the interior. However he argued ‘they do exist in exile, from where the Organisation must draw its sustenance.’

Development of the Regional in Spain Among the resolutions discussed No 5, related to ‘Development of the Regional in Spain’. Those assembled agreed that whilst in the interior there were not enough comrades to tour the towns and cities on organisation business, the Regional Committee would need precious personnel to carry out such activities.

Similarly, use would be made of written propaganda insofar as possible so that, once the appropriate body was set up in the interior, there could be direct liaison between the two responsible bodies. But, for the sake of improved personal safety and effectively in moving around, recourse will be had to ‘lawful’ Delegations, with extra-legal ones on stand-by should these fall through, although said liaison would be ensured as long as the Inter-continental Secretariat was kept briefed on activities.

Action in the interior

Another resolution discussed the ‘means of identifying the struggle and coordination in the interior’. Here it was agreed that every one of the human and economic resources in exile available to the Regional would be mobilised and deployed so as to raise the spirits of the comrades in the interior.

Since, in the estimation of those assembled, the militants, including those in Zaragoza are known and under surveillance, it was deemed appropriate THAT UNKNOWN EXILE COMRADES SHOULD ENTER SPAIN in order to pursue the following objectives: a) Slowly and deliberately expand the base in order to create a firm and homogeneous climate of opinion. b) To examine crossings and support and reference points for both contacts with the outside as well as between Comarcals, the object being to facilitate communications with other regions. c) Set up the ‘shock’ Groupings required for the seizure of nerve centres (communications centres, trade unions, power and electricity stations, radio stations, armed forces barracks, control points, etc.) with each nucleus taking responsibility for carrying out its own mission. These groups are to be bolstered at crucial moments by the exiled comrades standing by and will abide by the determinations of the representative Committees and in accordance with plans drawn up by the Organisation as a whole.

The incoming Regional Committee

Finally, the new Regional Committee ‘of origin’, that is, the [regional committee] abroad, was elected: FLORENTINO ESTALLO VILLACAMPA, JOSÉ ARISO, JOSÉ MARTI, MIGUEL VALLEJO SEBASTIAN and JOSÉ BORRAZ. Since the Plenum did not specifically appoint a General Secretary, it was agreed that the members of the Committee themselves, named in the preceding paragraph, should co-opt one of their number to fill that post.

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES Background Note

Apropos of JOSÉ ARISO, this Commissariat-General possesses the following background.

ARISO LLESTA, José — Known as ‘Escanilla’, 48 years old, son of Eusebio and Maria, a native of Albalate de Cinca (Huesca). A leading member of the Iberian Anarchist Federation who, during red rule in his native village, where he was present, was the material author of murders, looting and theft. Played an active part in attacks upon the Civil Guard and civilian members of the Movimiento Nacional.

GENERAL SECURITY DIRECTORATE Madrid, 10 November 1961 GENERAL SOCIAL INVESTIGATION COMMISSARIAT General and Technical Secretariat RS. No 12.220/XXVIII CNT ACTIVITIES IN SPAIN I. DATA ON POLICE INTERVENTION

Point of departure; Madrid, focal point for investigations; Intervention in other provinces; Significance of what has been achieved II. ORGANISATIONAL STRUCTURE

National Committee; Catalonia and Asturias Regional Federations; Provincial Committees in Andalusia; The Organisation in Zaragoza; Other provinces III. THE ORGANISATION AND ITS OPERATION

Liaison with the exterior; a) Asturias and its contacts with France; b) Liaison between the SI and the National Committee; c) The envoys from exile; d) Economic aid ; Organisational trips; a) Distribution of areas; b) The meagre success of contacts; Propaganda; Other matters IV. DETAINEES

Affiliation and data on their activities (Folio 11 is missing from the copy of the original).

IMPORTANT— REQUIRED READING FOR THE REGIONAL BRIGADES AND LOCAL SOCIAL INVESTIGATION SECTIONS IN ACCORDANCE WITH REGULATIONS d) AND e), PARAGRAPH 16 OF THE ORGANISATION OF CENTRAL AND REGIONAL AGENCIES OF THE GENERAL SECURITY DIRECTORATE, 28 OCTOBER 1959. SAID AGENCIES ARE TO RETAIN THIS BOLETÍN INFORMATIVO FOR THEIR OWN REFERENCE, CARRYING OUT WHATEVER MEASURES ITS CONTENTS MAY RENDER APPROPRIATE IN THE COMARCAS UNDER THEIR JURISDICTION I - DATA ON POLICE INTERVENTION Starting point

At the latest meetings of leading members of the National Confederation of Labour in exile and at the recent 2nd Congress of Local Federations, a number of decisions were taken regarding the reorganisation of the CNT in the interior of Spain when both sides were united. All of which led to the adoption of timely police measures, subjecting potential activities by former CNT personnel (regarded as ideal choices upon which to base this intended reorganisation) to strict surveillance.

Thus the Oviedo Regional Social Investigation Brigade managed to come by a letter addressed to Miguel GONZALEZ LOPEZ, who has many anarchist antecedents, by one Eduardo MADRONA who wrote from Madrid in terms that raised suspicions

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 that he may be engaged in certain subversive activities.

At which point the first named individual was interrogated in the Asturian capital, with the latter clarifying any doubts on this score. In fact, Eduardo MADRONA, apart from his private address, had supplied him with two addresses to which he might turn: No 12, Paseo Reina Maria Cristina and No 13, 5º Puerta del Sol, these serving as the starting points for the investigations begun by the Madrid Regional Brigade.

Madrid, focal point of investigations

In the Spanish capital, following extended examination of the details supplied, surveillance focused upon apartment No 11, on the 5th floor of 13, Puerta del Sol. Formally the tenant there was the ‘Gorrón-Madrona’ firm, but no indication of activity of a trading or industrial character justifying its rental could be detected.

Finally, on 19 October last, Ismael RODRIGUEZ AJAX was arrested entering the apartment in question. A quick glance established that inside there was a copying machine and numerous copies of CNT propaganda.

This individual turned out to be the General Secretary of the CNT National Committee in Madrid, the information he supplied and the documentation seized there leading to the capture not just of the other members of the National Committee and of the Madrid local Organisation, but also of those in a variety of provinces who had agreed to take up various positions in the hierarchy of the CNT Organisation being set up at this point. Thus Madrid served, thanks to the communications exchanged between the corresponding Local Brigades and Sections, to ensure that a simultaneous effort of police activity was crowned by the greatest possible success.

Intervention in other provinces

In tireless trips ranging through a number of locations in our territory, the members of the National Committee had planted, in what they deemed the most strategic points, a number of ‘couriers’ to deliver propaganda issued from Madrid for distribution to members of the Organisation linked to the Committee or local organisation where the ‘courier’ was based.

Information regarding the individuals entrusted with this task appeared in the documentation seized in the Spanish capital from the CNT leaders. In each centre, these details provided the basis for steps required to smash whatever organisational stirrings had emerged there.

In Barcelona, Valencia, Zaragoza, Asturias, Galicia and various Andalusian cities, it was, therefore, possible to proceed with the arrests of the personnel involved, exposing the structure that the CNT Organisation had adopted in the various localities, under the overall leadership and coordination of the Committee established in Madrid as a body with a national remit.

The particulars of the operation and format adopted by the CNT in these towns will be examined in detail below.

Significance of what has been achieved

The fact is that the CNT Organisation was now at an embryonic stage, having scarcely developed in terms of its rank and file elements. But the organisational ambitions in terms of reaching out to every single region in Spain through the establishment of Provincial and Regional Committees, something that was being achieved through the tireless endeavours of the members of the National Committee, the huge quantity of propaganda material seized, the direct liaison established with the emigré leaders, the plans for the use of violence agreed at various meetings held beyond our borders and similar circumstances speak volumes by themselves

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES for the significance of the police intervention, nipping in the bud something that could undoubtedly have attained a genuinely impressive scale.

II. ORGANISATIONAL STRUCTURE The National Committee

Towards the end of 1959, Eduardo MADRONA CASTAÑOS set about reorganising the CNT, capitalising on the fact that, since he had suffered an accident at work, his sickness insurance would cover the costs of some trips to Asturias and Barcelona.

The fact is that his efforts met with little success since he failed to secure the expected assistance from the former CNT personnel whom he visited. His greatest success was a meeting with Ismael RODRIGUEZ AJAX, another CNT veteran, who began working determinedly on the Organisation’s behalf, coming up with better results and successfully establishing contact with the leaders in exile, who, through an envoy who seems to have been called Joaquin PIJUAN, furnished him with financial support and the necessary instructions to set up a National Committee in Madrid, made up of Ismael RODRIGUEZ AJAX as general secretary, Fidel GORRON CANOYRA as coordinating secretary and Eduardo MADRONA CASTAÑOS who held no specific portfolio.

Catalonia and Asturias Regional Federations

Whatever was accomplished in Barcelona in terms of organisation was due to the trips and the efforts made by members of the National Committee and above all, in the last instance, by the work done there recently by Fidel GORRÓN CANOYRA. The committee established a regional committee in the Catalan capital consisting of Ladislao GARCÍA VELASCO, the ‘courier’ responsible for receiving propaganda and liaison with the National Committee, Ginés CAMARASA Í and Francisco J TORREMOCHA ARíAS. These last two fled their homes and have yet to be arrested.

Regarding Asturias, the process of shaping the organisation has been very different. Some CNT veterans from the principality visited France for various reasons where they met with a few leaders from the same trade union, among them Ramón ALVÁREZ PALOMO, who encouraged them to try to reorganise themselves into a Regional Committee.

The recipients of these instructions were Nicolás MUÑIZ ALONSO and Aurelio IGLESIAS ALVÁREZ who, on their return to Asturias, embarked upon the tasks entrusted to them. A committee was soon set up that had Antonio BERMEJO PEREA as its general secretary and on which Aurelio IGLESIAS PEREA served as ‘courier’ and liaison with the National Committee. This linkage with the Madrid National Committee came later, through the trip to Asturias by Eduardo MADRONA. By the time the National Committee was formed, the Asturias Regional was already up and running, having established its own links with the leaders of the emigré CNT. It was agreed that the Local Federation would be based in Gijón with Local Committees in La Felguera and Avilés, with Manuel FERNÁNDEZ CABRICANO and Nicolás MUÑIZ ALONSO, respectively, as the main leaders.

The Provincial Committees in Andalusia

RODRIGUEZ AJAX was responsible for ensuring that committees were set up in several Andalusian cities, which he toured at some length on one of his trips, with widely varying degrees of success. Apparently, each of the organisations set up was of a local or provincial character, although it is reasonable to assume that the trend was towards the establishment of future coordination with the subsequent formation of a Regional Committee.

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 In Granada, the prime movers were Carlos SORIANO AGUILA and Rafael ADARVE ESTURIA. The Almería committee was beginning to be broken down into specific posts and missions. The post of Organising Secretary went to José NUÑEZ ESTRELLA, with Francisco VICENTE CORTES as Propaganda Secretary and Francisco PEREZ SEGADO as treasurer.

In Jaén, Francisco CARRASCO Martínez was the ‘courier’ and liaison with the National Committee. He was assisted by Manuel CHICA GONZALEZ. In Linares propaganda was the responsibility of Francisco JUSTICIA CASTRO; José María ROA JUSTICIA established an offshoot of the Committee in Huelma in Jaén province.

In Seville, the main figure was José CASTRO BARTUFF, who served as ‘courier’ and propaganda distributor from the National Committee in Madrid. Mention should also be made of José MARIN SANCHEZ and José ROMERO GONZALEZ. The supreme leader in Córdoba, whose task it also was to co-ordinate the distribution of propaganda, was Joaquín MILLAN MENDOZA, who was aided and abetted by Bartolomé MONTILLA RUIZ, José ESPEJO TRILLO and Juan PARRAGA RAMIREZ. In Castro del Río the Córdoba organisation relied on Rafael GARCÍA MARIN. Finally, Málaga also came in for some attention from the CNT leadership. Here the role of ‘courier’ and National Committee liaison fell to José RAMIRO PORRAS, the most prominent figure, assisted by José CORDOBA GÓMEZ. The organisation in Zaragoza

As a result of RODRIGUEZ AJAX’s efforts to establish a Regional Committee covering Aragón, Rioja and Navarre, a Committee was launched in Zaragoza consisting of Luis BALLOTA GIL, as Propaganda Secretary, ‘courier’ and liaison with the National Committee, Mariano LENCINA CRESPO as Organising Secretary and Alfredo SOLANAS CAVERO as Coordinating Secretary. Mariano LENCINA is presently in Colombia, a country to which he emigrated with the appropriate documents. Alfredo SOLANAS died in the Aragonese capital at the beginning of this year.

Ramifications in other provinces

The National Committee attempted to set up a Levante Regional based in Valencia, but, in spite of their efforts, all that they have achieved to date is the co-operation of Francisco OROZCO GALLARDO to whom they have sent propaganda on several occasions.

Galicia was also visited on their organisational travels by one or other of the CNT leaders. However, the practical results of this were practically zero. They managed to establish a ‘courier’ to distribute propaganda in Vilagarcía de Arous (Pontevedra) under the name of one Francisco DURAN, who has yet to be identified.

Nor was Valladolid overlooked on one of the trips of which more later. In that city they secured the co-operation of one JOSÉ —efforts to trace whom have yet to yield any results — who even supplied his opinion in writing of the Agenda of a Plenum of CNT Local Federations soon to be held in France. The text of that report was found in the possession of Ismael RODRIGUEZ AJAX. It was only logical that the Madrid-based National Committee would proselytise in their own city, alternating this work with work carried out elsewhere.

Among those helping the national leaders we might cite Emiliano MIER RODRIGUEZ, Diego CIVICO GARRIDO, Mariano RUIZ GUTIERREZ, Juan MARTÍNEZ GARCÍA and Tomás CÓRDOBA PEREZ. The last-named was recently commissioned

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES to travel to Andalusia to continue the organisational work begun there previously by RODRIGUEZ AJAX. Diego CIVICO had the task of receiving, at his home, communications sent from the provinces by members of the various local organisations to the National Committee. Plainly the addresses in the Puerta del Sol cited earlier were also used for these purposes.

Julio PUJOL ARÍAS, visited at his home by Eduardo MADRONA and commissioned by the latter to oversee the reorganisation of the CNT in the mining district (where that city is located) has just been arrested in Ponferrada (León). It appears he never got around to carrying out any sort of activity.

III. THE ORGANISATION AND ITS OPERATION Liaison with the outside

One point that helps throw into relief the significance that the CNT Organisation which has now been smashed was beginning to acquire, is the contact successfully established with the emigréé anarchist leaders in exile and even with Roque SANTAMARIA CORTIGUERA himself who, up until the Congress of Local Federations held recently, occupied the post of General Secretary on the CNT’s Inter-continental Secretariat. The details relating to these relations between the interior and the outside, which are naturally of undeniable interest, are dealt with below under the following headings: a) Asturias and its contacts with France

Relations of the Asturian CNT members with those in exile were independent of and predated those established with the Madrid-based National Committee itself.

Nicolás MUÑIZ ALONSO, an individual with anarchist antecedents, arrested in 1947 for clandestine activities, struck up a connection after he came out of prison with former militants or prison comrades who had moved to France, including Arturo BOTAMINO GONZÂLEZ and Félix CARRASQUER LAUNED. At the end of 1959 he travelled to the French capital where he dealt personally with BOTAMINO, the spokesman of the Asturian Regional in exile and with Ramón ALVÁREZ PALOMO, secretary of the Sub-Committee who introduced him to an individual living in Gijón who happened to be in the neighbouring country — Aurelio IGLESIAS ALVÁREZ, and they urged them both, on their return to Asturias, to talk with Antonio BERMEJO and try to set up a Regional Committee. After that, propaganda and appropriate instructions arrived from France addressed to IGLESIAS or BERMEJO. Later, once contact was established with Madrid, a large portion of the material came from that city. b) The SI’s formal relations with the National Committee

Once the National Committee was established in Madrid — under a year ago — RODRIGUEZ AJAX dispatched Fidel GORRON to France to contact members of the Sub-Committee abroad, to press for aid and instructions as well as to establish that the talk of reunifying the CNT was true.

The upshot of these overtures was a promise of help from the emigré leaders and an announcement that specific individuals would be sent to Spain to offer them guidance in their organisational endeavours. These promises were duly honoured and instructions and propaganda sent by post to the Puerta del Sol premises.

The important point to stress here is the invitation issued by the CNT leaders for the members of the recently formed National Committee to travel to Limoges (France) to attend the II Congress of the Local Federations of the CNT (the I Inter-continental

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 Congress of the CNT in Limoges, August—September 1961 ) albeit only in an observer capacity since only legal Local Federations could participate in the proceedings. This was supposed to indicate an ‘official’ acknowledgment of their existence.

This invitation was taken up by Fidel GORRON and RODRIGUEZ AJAX, the latter being interviewed in France by Roque SANTAMARIA himself, who repeated his promise to feed all sorts of support through to the normal development of the Organisation in our country’s interior. Thus, through the observance of this whole series of formalities, a close relationship was established between the Organisations of the interior and in exile, with the latter able to pass on to the former any instructions and watchwords it saw fit. c) The envoys from exile

In January of this year (1961), in keeping with the above, Joaquín PIJUAN — there is some uncertainty regarding this surname — and Acracio GONZÁLES GUTIERREZ arrived from France. The former accompanied RODRIGUEZ AJAX on a trip on Organisation business through various regions in Spain in an effort to persuade them to join the new Organisation.

As for Acracio GONZÁLEZ, he made straight for Andalusia where he knew a number of CNT personnel in order to carry out the Organisation business entrusted to him. Certain particulars are known regarding this person: according to ‘The Priest’ he was born in Nerva (Huelva) on 9 May 1915, a married worker, son of Juan and Maria, he lived in Almería until 1956. It seems that prior to the Movimiento he was a member of no political organisation, and fought as a volunteer in the ranks of the Red Army, being sentenced at the war’s end. In 1947 he belonged to a clandestine body going by the name of the Alianza Nacional de Fuerzas Democraticas, representing the CNT, something that cost him a year in prison. In 1953 he crossed into France, with the proper papers, where he served on the Local CNT Committee in Clermont-Ferrand, attending a Congress held in Toulouse as its representative.

There is another individual who goes by the name of Manuel MOLINA, who left for France some 12 years ago and who has now reappeared in Córdoba where he has visited former CNT members to encourage them to reconstitute themselves organisationally. Several of the persons arrested in Córdobamet with MOLINA on occasions when the latter had just arrived from the neighbouring country. The relationship between this person and the other two named earlier is unknown. d) Economic aid

Monies funnelled by the leaders in exile to those in the interior who had taken on the task of reorganising the anarchist trade union have been quite significant. All the costs of the trip made by RODRIGUEZ AJAX and Joaquín PIJUAN through various regions, were borne by the latter who, in March and in order to egg them on in their endeavours, promised the three members of the National Committee a wage of 100 pesetas a day, each. In July he had Ismael RODRIGUEZ AJAX send 19,000 pesetas, boosting this shortly afterwards with a further 21,000 brought to Spain by an unidentified woman who came down from Perpignan.

Later, after RODRIGUEZ AJAX’s interview in France with Roque SANTAMARIA, the latter transferred 46,000 pesetas into Eduardo MADRONA’s account in the Banco de Santander. Nor, in this regard, should we overlook the 20,000 pesetas handed over to Fidel GORRON CANOYRA when he was in France attending the II CNT Congress.

Similarly, lesser sums of money were handed over to the members of other regional or provincial organisations to cover expenses incurred in carrying out

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES organisational missions.

All of which gives a clear picture of the concern shown by the prominent CNT leaders in the Organisation’s recovering the influence it had lost in the interior.

Organisational trips

References have been made already to visits by National Committee personnel to former CNT members residing in various locations around Spain, with an eye to getting them back on a war footing, incorporating them into the incipient Organisation or trying to coordinate with the Madrid leaders the stirrings that had spontaneously arisen here and there.

Eduardo MADRONA was responsible for northern Spain and his most important business was carried out in Asturias and Galicia. RODRIGUEZ AJAX, although he travelled the entire country, focused mainly on Aragón and, above all, the Andalusian provinces. GORRON CANOYRA was responsible for organising Catalonia, and at the time of his arrest, effected by the help of ‘The Priest’, he was in fact in Barcelona on the mission entrusted to him. On the last trip it was thought opportune to confer RODRIGUEZ AJAX’s Andalucian representation and that of the National Committee on an individual bty the name of Tomás CORDOBA PEREZ whom they had recruited into the Madrid local Organisation. He never got to make the trip. b) The meagre success of contacts

The old CNT personnel who, unreservedly, accepted the suggestion from National Committee members or from emigré envoys that they openly assist with reorganisation plans and later engage in the activities that this implied were few.

The fact is that old CNT hands, having served a sentence in connection with our war and, in some cases, having been punished for clandestine activities and whose ideological ardour had cooled, were tired of waging an utterly pointless struggle; all they wanted was a wish to live a peaceable life.

It can be said that only those persons who agreed to serve as ‘couriers’ in various places around the country and a few others showed any disposition to carry on and implement the watchwords of the anarchist leaders in the interior. The truth is that the organisational endeavours of those seeking to refloat the CNT in the interior almost always met with failure, thanks in no small measure to the activities of this service and its agents of influence with the emigré Organisation.

Propaganda

Propaganda samples were initially sent, from abroad, to the Asturian leaders and later to the offices in the Puerta del Sol, together with other writings with instructions and watchwords which arrived in the post or through someone dispatched from the neighbouring country.

But once the National Committee was set up in Madrid, its members decided to collect large quantities of propaganda material to encourage veteran CNT personnel by giving them the impression that unprecedented activity was under way.

RODRIGUEZ AJAX, having leased the Puerta del Sol apartment, rented a typewriter, purchased a duplicator and began churning out propaganda consisting of CNT, Solidaridad Obrera and the occasional ‘open letter’. All three members of the Committee took their turn at writing the propaganda material.

As for its dissemination, those copies destined to go beyond the ranks of the Organisation were sent out by post to various addresses or slipped underneath doors on the visits made by RODRIGUEZ AJAX to many buildings in the capital in his capacity as a travelling salesman.

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 The bulk of the propaganda material produced was sent out to the Organisation’s own members across Spain, and to this end transport agencies were used, with packages addressed to the pre-established ‘couriers’ detailed earlier.

The number of copies of anarchist propaganda impounded during various house searches carried out has proved considerable. A hand-operated press was also found in the Puerta del Sol apartment along with a round seal from the National Confederation of Labour’s N[ational] C[ommittee].

Other matters

Among the tasks carried out by certain CNT personnel was the sending news and reports on the situation in this country to the emigré leaders so that possible frictions of a social or political character could be picked up by the anarchist press. In this regard the general secretary of the Asturian organisation, Antonio BERMEJO PEREA who corresponded with the above-mentioned Ramón ALVÁREZ PALOMO, passed on to him news that seemed to be of interest. He especially distinguished himself.

Sticking with the Committee of Asturias which was no doubt the one that achieved the greatest amount of activity we ought to point out its custom of holding periodic meetings in Gijón, drawing the leading militants from that city, La Felguera and from Avilés.

In a different connection, we should emphasise that whereas the National Committee — formally established only a few months ago — has made no impact in the interior. This is due to good intelligence from the highest levels of the Organisation in Toulouse, and a rapid police intervention that successfully smothered something that could have acquired much greater significance.

Those few signs of life offered by the Organisation, however, were sufficient for the outside world to seize upon for propaganda purposes, portraying it with a scale and strength that it never attained.

In exile they insisted that one of the recently-formed political groups could oppose the Regime with the greatest chances of success. It also appears that they were planning, imminently, to introduce action groups which, combined with what had been established in the interior, were due to launch sabotage and terrorist operations, to which end thought was being given to providing them with the requisite materials and funds for which they had been pressing.

In the home of Lázaro ARJONA SALAS, the most recent arrest in Madrid, another duplicator was found. It had been hidden there by RODRÍGUEZ AJAX, apparently until such time as it might be of service to one of the Regional Committees.

BOLETÍN INFORMATIVO OF THE GENERAL SECURITY DIRECTORATE 1 April 1963 GENERAL COMMISSARIAT FOR SOCIAL INVESTIGATION GENERAL AND TECHNICAL SECRETARIAT To: REGIONAL BRIGADES AND LOCAL SOCIAL INVESTIGATION SECTIONS

(The document is incomplete. The text is from pages 3, 4 and 6. Names marked with dots are redacted in the original photocopy.)

ANARCHISM —CAMPAIGN AGAINST SPANISH-PORTUGUESE TOURISM Further to the information supplied in Boletín No.XXXIII/1963, ‘OPERATION

WARNING’ there are indications that in emigré circles the campaign against tourism in Spain and Portugal has been stepped up in an attempt to deny both countries the financial income generated by the tourists’ welcome presence in the peninsula.

Trade unionists from the General Workers’ Union and from the National Confederation of Labour have appealed to the democrats of France and Europe to

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES refrain from visiting Spain or, should they visit this country, to do so with the firm intention of upholding the morale and schooling the Spanish people politically in the circumstances of clandestine struggle.

‘Activist’ anarchists from the Iberian Liberation Council (CIL) have decided and already acted to sabotage tourism to the peninsula by means of terrorist outrages, through deeds such as those carried out against planes belonging to the Iberian and TAP airlines.

As stated, the most violently active Spanish anarchist group, the Iberian Libertarian Youth Federation (FIJL), an offshoot of the National Confederation of Labour of Spain (CNTE) has been planning bomb attacks in Spain and Portugal for the past two years, for the purpose of creating a climate in those two countries favourable to carrying out the revolution in every stratum of society.

As a general rule, this involves younger elements and intellectuals who, stimulated by Castroism, believe there are greater opportunities for successful action in libertarian organisations than in any other.

Likewise, older Spanish anarchists, seemingly supporters of the moderate political views of the CNT’s leaders, such as ********* , bourgeoisified by comfortable material circumstances, are nevertheless ready to participate in dangerous operations, albeit mainly as liaison agents or recipients of materials.

The provision last April of significant documentation on the ‘activist’ anarchist groups from ‘The Priest’ has shown that under the FIJL umbrella there lurks a clandestine anarchist network which reaches into most countries in Europe and South America.

With the assistance of home-grown personnel from said countries, they constitute an ‘international team’ equipped with a command staff and driven by a new spirit of discipline that contrasts with the uncontrollable anarchist methodology of the old specific groups of Sabaté and ‘Caraquemada’.

The centre for the preparation and propaganda of these subversive intrigues and campaigns is in Paris, where the FIJL branch has for some time now been regarded as the best-equipped adversary of the reformist policy of the CNTE’s leaders (Esgleas, Montseny, Santamaria) and as a determined champion of direct action.

In any case, the Iberian Liberation Council has claimed responsibility for the attacks mounted during the summer of 1962 in Madrid, Valencia, Barcelona, San Sebastian, Lisbon and Milan.

According to reports from ‘The Priest’, the main commandos originated in France and returned to France upon completion of their mission and the young British, French, Swiss and Italian anarchists involved had back-up from former members of the French ‘support networks’ of the Algerian National Liberation Front (FLN).

At one stage in these operations, the Organisation’s immediate target was the premises of official Spanish state agencies: the Instituto Nacional de Previsión in Madrid and Barcelona, the Colegio Universitario in Barcelona, the Ayuntamiento in Valencia, the environs of the Ayete Palace in San Sebastian, the editorial offices of the newspapers Ya and La Vanguardia in Madrid and Barcelona, etc., in a political-terrorist campaign against the Regime.

From autumn 1962 on, the Iberian Liberation Council determined to concentrate its offensive on the sabotage of European tourism to Spain and Portugal, by means of leaflets distributed in profusion in those countries and in France, alerting international tourists to the risks they run in using the Iberia and TAP airlines. Those leaflets were reprinted by Nueva Senda, the FIJL organ, and, since the beginning of the year, by the CNT’s Espoir, published in Toulouse.

Moreover, also in the Toulouse area, the Alianza Sindical Española (ASE), an

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 umbrella group for the socialist trade unionists of the UGT, the Basque ChristianDemocrats from Solidaridad de Trabajadores Vascos and the ‘realist’ Anarchists of the CNT, has just associated itself with the Espoir campaign.

Likewise, a further wave of attacks began in the early days of the month of June at four different points in Europe: London, Geneva, Frankfurt and Madrid, with explosions and ensuing fires in trunks or suitcases, in this instance.

On the other hand, during the same period, nothing of the sort happened in France, even though the largest and most active group of the FIJL anarchists is based in that country.

This absence may be explained by two hypotheses:

Recent investigations, examination and confirmation of the status of activists and anarchists, have led the latter to fear that, in the event of terrorist acts like the previous ones, police action might hit important personnel who have thus far been regarded as untouchables.

Because the terrorist centre is in France itself, it is now considered advisable that France, as the seat of the driving force and coordinating centre, should be left out and kept separate from the ‘centre of operations’.

Bear in mind the fact that, at the time of the attacks in Spain between 6 and 8 April, the three young anarchists left Paris and Lyon without any known prior contact between them, and likewise ignorant of the fact that their own respective terrorist act would be replicated in other Spanish cities.

On the other hand, the impact of these actions by the Iberian Liberation Council has not been particularly effective, in terms either of quantity or quality, so much so that, as we have stated, it has not hesitated to use young and ‘green’ French students likely to break down under questioning, added to the fact that one of them, PECUNIA, could reasonably have been assumed to be known to the Spanish police, as indeed he was, on account of his involvement in last year’s terrorist acts.

However, the coordination of the terrorist commandos indicates the presence on the Iberian Liberation Council of a guiding hand carrying out a preconceived tactic and demonstrates an overall vision and consistency in its aims.

Finally, the existence within the anarchist network on an international scale of an undeniable spirit of selflessness and a growing enthusiasm for mutual aid more than compensate for the traditional lack of principles of discipline and hierarchy in libertarian organisations.

BOLETÍN INFORMATIVO 22 APRIL 1963 THE GENERAL SECURITY DIRECTORATE GENERAL COMMISSARIAT FOR SOCIAL INVESTIGATION GENERAL AND TECHNICAL SECRETARIAT To: THE REGIONAL BRIGADES AND LOCAL SOCIAL INVESTIGATION SECTIONS

(This document is incomplete) TERRORIST ACTIVITIES IN BARCELONA, VALENCIA AND MADRID INTRODUCTORY NOTE

At 10:25 a.m. on the 6th of this month, while it was close to the Atarazanas wharf in Barcelona harbour, a sizable explosion occurred on board the vessel Ciudad de Ibiza belonging to the Compania Transmediterranea, shuttling between Palma de Mallorca and Barcelona: initially the explosion was put down to engine failure.

Following an inspection to establish the cause, the ship’s officers ascertained that in lifeboat number one, located on the deck, there was a gash measuring some 50 by 20 centimetres towards the bows and on the port side, and it could be seen

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES that the timber of said boat was broken and splintered. A once-over inspection later by police officers from the Barcelona Regional Brigade, while confirming that it bore all the characteristics of a terrorist action, shed no light upon the type of explosives used.

Likewise, on the 8th of that month, there was a loud explosion in the Calle de La Paz in Valencia close to the central office of Iberia Airlines, causing material damage and slightly injuring a few passers-by.

Immediately following the terrorist attack on the boat mentioned earlier, the Barcelona Social Investigation Agency, in conjunction with colleagues in Madrid and Valencia, launched appropriate inquiries to trace the perpetrators and, if possible, their political affiliations and their connections abroad, which were in fact not in doubt, given the anti-Spanish campaign currently waged by extremist exiles and organisations based mainly in France and Italy.

Background

The investigations carried out took account of the activity and trajectory of the Spanish Libertarian Movement and, naturally, of its ‘Defensa Interior Committee’ which, as we know from our agents in Toulouse, had taken on the task of preparing autonomous groups, each one independent of the other, for the carrying out of acts of terrorism and sabotage in the interior as well as against our diplomatic representations abroad.

The clandestinity and independence of the groups is so emphasised that in fact the ‘commandos’ operate completely independently of one another and their members are not familiar with one another.

Madrid

Immediately following the official notification of the terrorist act mounted against the Ciudad de Ibiza, police officers from the Madrid Regional Social Investigation Brigade implemented intensive surveillance measures, mainly at the termini of the various airlines and Embassies, Consulates and diplomatic premises, in order to proceed with the arrest of the French national student who travelled to Madrid with the explosive materials and instructions to plant it immediately.

The requisite inquiries were made in hostelries and recreational establishments frequented by foreign students in order to thwart the terrorist plan designed to disrupt tourism in Spain and hinder the successful conclusion of trade treaties with the United States.

Meanwhile, at 1:30 a.m. on 8 April, a telephone call was received from the University reporting that an individual had been discovered, unconscious and in a heavily intoxicated state at No 48, Calle de Joaquín María López, on the park steps.

Identified at the first-aid post as French subject ******* he was moved to the Provincial Hospital: after a comprehensive search, he was found to be in possession of a cigarette pack containing two fulminate detonators, a plastic container containing white powder, a tiny bottle containing a colourless liquid, a wallet holding notes in French and German plus the sum of 4,512 pesetas.

After appropriate steps had been taken to prevent any possible escape from the hospital in question, since there was every indication that ******* was, in any case, a dangerous individual, once he had recovered from the heavy drunkenness from which he was suffering, officers from the Brigade proceeded to arrest him and escort him to the station.

It also turned out that the last time he spoke with******* the latter handed him some plastic explosive like his own, which he in turn passed on to a certain *******

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 — doubtless an assumed name — at Bayonne station and he travelled from Irun to Madrid on the same train, but in a different compartment, and whom he last saw in the Estación del Norte in Madrid when they both arrived in the capital on the 4th of this month.

On the 6th he visited the Valle de los Caidos together with a Jesuit priest whom he had happened to meet on the trip to Madrid and on that occasion had not been able to plant the explosives which he was carrying because the opportunity did not arise, since he could not get away from his companions, the aforementioned priest and his secretary. He consequently abandoned the package of explosives in some rocks on the return journey.

During his time in Madrid he made a number of exploratory visits to the environs of the US Embassy in the Calle Serrano to reconnoitre its precise location, the movements of personnel, the timing and opportunities to plant the explosive device with which he had been provided, finally intended to plant it at the main door of the Embassy in the Calle Serrano at 11:00 p.m. on Tuesday, the 9th of this month, in which intention he was thwarted due to his having been arrested in the circumstances described.

Whereas he claimed not to know if the Organisation had dispatched people into the Spanish interior to carry out acts like the one with which he had been entrusted, it transpired that ******* had the specific task of travelling to Seville to plant explosives on a ship and another at the US Consulate in the city: it emerged that, on the decision of the leaders, the Paris groups would take responsibility for the carrying out of said acts against airlines, travel agencies and tourist offices, while the Lyon groups, in turn, would see to the Embassies and Consulates in conjunction with the Toulouse groups, which, for the time being, would look after the introduction and distribution of propaganda.

NEW APPROACH TO OPERATIONAL TACTICS

Through questioning those arrested in Barcelona, Valencia and Madrid, it emerged that there was a new tactic in the approach to and development of acts of terrorism, as follows: 1. Raising the profile, which consists of creating a climate of insecurity in international tourism, in order to prevent visits to Spain, mounting a campaign of agitation and propaganda to that effect, including by means of anonymous telephone calls announcing acts of sabotage against aircraft, etc.

2. Issuing warnings, or a terror campaign involving planting explosive devices at airline and shipping companies and, particularly, at US Embassies and Consulates in Spain for the purpose of disrupting relations between the two countries.

3. Symbolism, rooted in mounting acts of sabotage against para-state organisations, like the Instituto Nacional de Previsión, the newspapers of the Movimiento, the Banks and attacks upon the life of the Head of State.

4. Through the courts, consisting of a campaign in support of political prisoners, an amnesty for same, etc., and, specifically, on behalf of the young libertarians arrested as well as other gestures, such as demonstrations against our diplomatic representations abroad, etc., etc.

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE EXPLOSIVES

The aforementioned interrogations also made it possible to determine the characteristics, composition, etc, of the devices that exploded on the Ciudad de Ibiza and in the Calle de La Paz in Valencia, as well as those due to be used in Madrid.

Broadly speaking, these are long packages about 10 cms in length, 8 cms across

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES and 3 cms thick, with a malleable or ‘plastic’ explosive base into which a detonator is stuck, with one end sticking out and with the whole thing covered with gunpowder: some 100 gms of a potassium chlorate-sugar blend, topped off with an inverted capsule of sulphuric acid so that the acid oozes out slowly and ignites the gunpowder.

THE DETAINEES AND THEIR CIRCUMSTANCES 1. Alain Pecunia, born 23 August 1945 in Ivry-sur-Seine (Paris), residing at No 1, Rue

Dr Labbe, a student with Communist Party links from the age of 13, and later linked with the French Anarchist Federation as part of the so-called ‘Louise Michel’ group.

For the past year he has, in accordance with the precepts of the FAF, been collaborating with the Iberian Anarchist Federation (FAI) and, as stated, with the terrorist ‘commandos’ in Spain. In order to carry out his mission in Spain he received the sum of 30,000 francs from the Organisation. He operated completely on his own, without any contacts or back-up in Spain, in implementing the tactics currently employed by the Organisation vis à vis actions to be carried out in our country.

Renseignements Généraux briefing paper on Spanish anarchists in France INTERIOR MINISTRY OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC, PARIS, 27 August 1963 GENERAL DIRECTORATE OF NATIONAL SECURITY DIRECTORATE OF RENSEIGNEMENTS GÉNÉRAUX TERRORIST MACHINATIONS OF SPANISH ANARCHISTS IN FRANCE A. THE METHODS AND NETWORK OF THE IBERIAN LIBERATION COMMITTEE (CIL)

The existence in France of a group of Spanish anarchists organised for the purpose of carrying out acts of terrorism in Spain and sabotaging the installations and planes of the Spanish and Portuguese airlines in the major cities of Europe, has been demonstrated through the arrests and inquiries made on foot of several attacks over the past year.

1. Following explosions in Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, San Sebastian and Lisbon in the summer of 1962, French Trotskyist Yvette Parent, formerly an agent of the FLN support networks, acknowledged when arrested by the Spanish police that she had travelled down from Paris to carry out a mission in Spain as a courier as part of a terrorist operation run by Antonio Mur Peiron and Jorge Conil Walls [sic], members of the Federación Ibérica de Juventudes Libertarias (FIJL).

2. On 9 April 1963, three young Frenchmen, Pecunia, Alain; Batoux, Guy; and Ferry, Bernard, members of the Vérité-Liberté association [specialising in exposés of the torture employed by the French army during the fight against the FLN] or of the Parti Socialiste Unifié [Unified Socialist Party —PSU], were arrested in Spain after planting or preparing to plant bombs on the ship that shuttles between Barcelona and the Balearics (in Pecunia’s case), in front of the United States Embassy in Madrid (in the case of Guy Batoux), or near the offices of the Iberia Airlines company in Valencia (in the case of Bernard Ferry).

Their statements revealed that they were approached in Lyon by Spanish FIJL members and had initially agreed, for a first mission, to carry into Spain materials (plastic explosives and timing mechanisms) and then, at the end of March, to place bombs in the aforementioned locations. The information supplied by Guy Batoux and Alain Pecunia (as well as by the father of the latter who has complained to the court authorities of the corruption of a minor) has made it possible to identify a number of FIJL leading lights in Paris, Lyon and Toulouse, members of the terrorist organisation going under the name of the ‘Iberian Liberation Committee’ (CIL).

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 On 3 June, three incendiary devices placed in luggage in the holds of Iberia and TAP airline planes in the airports of London, Geneva and Frankfurt exploded moments before the aircraft were due to take off for Madrid.

In Geneva, Federal Police suspicions focused upon one Abarca Ruiz, who arrived from Paris and stayed in a Geneva hotel on 3 and 4 June. Abarca Ruiz was acknowledged as a militant of the FIJL, based in Paris, at I bis, rue de l’Arbalète.

Sought under an international warrant from M Curtin, an examining magistrate in Geneva, he has yet to be located.

4. On 29 July, two bombs exploded in Madrid, one near the Casa de los Sindicatos, the other on the premises of the General Police Directorate, leaving 27 wounded (three seriously) among those waiting to be issued with passports.

On 31 July the Spanish police carried out the arrests in Madrid of a Spaniard and a Frenchman of Spanish extraction, Granado Gata, Francisco and Delgado Martínez, Joaquin, respectively, both of whom had arrived from France. The pair acknowledged at first that they were involved in planting the bombs, but they retracted this during the trial. They were found in possession of 21 kg of French-made plastic explosive, a handgun, a machine-gun, a fused bomb and a remote-control detonator.

A 9 August international warrant issued by the Frankfurt court investigating the explosion on board an Iberia aeroplane in Frankfurt on 6 June disclosed that Delgado Martínez, Joaquin, living at no. 19, Allée de l’Alma in Perreux, had visited Frankfurt on 4, 5 and 6 June and had left the suitcase containing the bomb at the Iberia airline counter under the false name of Chica Amate, José.

Details gleaned from statements made in Madrid by Delgado Martínez and Granado Gata have confirmed previous intelligence from ‘The Priest’, regarding the presence in France of the chief organisers of terrorist expeditions operating in the name of the CIL. The persons identified are all members of the Federación Ibérica de Juventudes Libertarias, the (5-member) National Committee which is the clear inspiration behind the fly-posting of anti-Spanish tourism posters and leaflets (distributed in large quantities in Paris, Toulouse, Geneva and Madrid in early June) and secretly coordinates terrorist activity.

Launched in Madrid in August 1932, the FIJL has no lawful status on French soil.

It enjoys merely administrative tolerance as a sister organisation of the Confederación Nacional del Trabajo. Both have their headquarters at 4, Rue de Belfort in Toulouse.

The latter, the CNT, is an anarcho-syndicalist movement bent on introducing first democracy and later anarchism in Spain by means of syndicalism; it does not approve of terrorism according to our well-placed intelligence sources.

For its part, the FIJL view is that ‘unless national and international democratic sectors succeed in promoting a political solution to fascism in Spain, courses leading to more dramatic actions will, necessarily, remain open.’

Within the FIJL, the Paris Federation has been the most forceful advocate of subversive activity. Its militants constitute the core of the CIL terrorist group, together with French, Portuguese, Italian and British personnel. Groups in Lyon, Toulouse, Grenoble and Perpignan should also be mentioned.

The existence of a contact network likely to be used by these groups during ‘operations’ has also come to light, following the acquisition of FIJL documents in the Pyrénées Orientales in July 1962 from one of the terrorist godfathers (animadores) of the FIJL, Guerrero Lucas, Jacínto. This was a list of correspondents in France and in European and South American countries where Spanish anarchist cells were founded after the civil war.

Most of the terrorist godfathers who have come to light over the preceding operations are included in that list and have been corroborated by agents, including 3.

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES ‘The Priest’. There are many others who profess to be syndicalists but who are opposed to violence. Often, these are naturalised French subjects, active in respectable non-communist French trade unions and parties (FO, CFTC, SFIO, PSU, etc,). But Guerrero Lucas relied on them, not unreasonably, as a source of financial assistance, hiding-places, couriers and propaganda backup in the event of arrests and difficulties.

The anarchist tradition and hatred of Francoism remain strong among the Spanish exiles and, no matter whether they be old or young, or seemingly well-settled in France and bourgeoisified, they are liable to embark upon terrorist expeditions, unprompted or if persuaded that they run very little risk, particularly on account of their being French nationals.

II. —OBJECTIVES AND SEIZURES DURING INTERROGATIONS AND SEARCH Pay particular attention to the following: 1. Explosives, delayed-action bomb mechanisms, weapons. It is highly unlikely that

these will be on the official premises of the FIJL or in militants’ own homes. But there may be indications (documents, letters, codes, photographs) found during searches which may steer investigations towards hiding-places.

2. Any typewritten or written documentation must be seized, along with any letters, the contents of which may allude to subversive activity. Broadly speaking, any correspondence between Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, British and French anarchists may be of interest, even if, at first glance, they appear to be of a harmless family character. Among Spanish anarchists, terrorism remains a family concern.

3. With an eye to clearing up the attacks at Geneva, Frankfurt and London airports, look out for passports, rail and airline tickets, receipts, expenses, etc. that may help establish that certain persons travelled to those cities between 1 and 6 June.

4. Since the beginning of the year, the CIL has issued five typewritten statements claiming responsibility for the various attacks and promising retaliation. Such notices should be seized.

5. The FIJL newspaper, Nueva Senda, printed in Toulouse, has been banned under a ministerial order of 26.3.1963 as published in the Journal Officiel of 3 April 1963, because of its calls for violence and its support for subversion in Spain [which would be] damaging to France’s diplomatic interests. It has recently resurfaced, clandestinely, with the same 28 x 38 format and the same typographical features, with, as its title, the initials ‘FIJL’ against the background of the red and black anarchist flag. Copies of this newspaper are to be seized and those found in possession of it should be prosecuted for distribution of a proscribed organ.

III. —ARRESTS AND SEARCHES TO BE CARRIED OUT 1) IN PARIS Premises at 24, Rue Ste-Marthe (10th arrondissement), the headquarters of the Local and Regional

Federations of the FIJL and CNT and of Solidaridad Internacional Antifascista (SIA).

There is a bookshop stocking Spanish language materials that is an important meeting place and rendezvous at 3, Rue Ternaux (11th arr.), headquarters of the French Anarchist Federation (FAF) and a probable meeting place for the clandestines of the famed Federación Anarquista Ibérica (FAI). Lastly, Le Monde Libertaire bookshop.

Individuals

Arino Sahun, Robert— a participant in the 29 July terrorist operation in Madrid.

Sanchez, Agustin — secretary/treasurer of the FIJL National Committee.

Abarca, Luis — travelled to Geneva at the time of the 6 June attack.

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 Drouet, Claude (French subject). Member of the Jeunesses Libertaires Françaises, liaison agent in Spain during the two attacks in the summer of 1962.

Mera, Cipriano — in touch with Joaquin Delgado.

Bornichon, Monique — liaison agent, girlfriend of Alain Pecunia.

Poli, François — participant in the operations in Spain in the summer of 1962, friend of Alain Pecunia.

Chevalier, Alexandre — instigator of Alain Pecunia’s mission.

Lucas Guerrero, Jacínto — CIL official.

Foncillas, Francisco — FIJL member likely to be the ‘Paul’ who organised the expedition of the three young Frenchmen to Spain in early April 1963.

Piquer, Hermes —ia contact of Salvador Gurucharri, aka ‘El Inglés’, a member of the FIJL National Committee.

Quesada Márquez, Juan — arrested in Perignan on the night of 26 August in possession of weapons and leaflets.

Nervi — Italian anarchist.

Imbernon, Nardo — general secretary of the FIJL Local and Regional Federations.

Pascual Palacios, José — leading light of the Paris FIJL. Martin Armendariz —(probably the José Ros who instructed Joaquín Delgado to take a bomb to Frankfurt).

Dot Arderieu, José —founder of the first anarchist terrorist movement, the Movimiento Popular de Resistencia, and a former hold-up specialist.

2) IN LYON Premises

An Adrian Hut at 286, Cours Emile Zola in Villeurbanne, premises of the CNT Local Federation and a meeting-point for Lyon anarchists.

Individuals

Carlucci, Bruno Carmine — Italian anarchist whose situation in France is irregular.

Flores Bartolomé, aka Fernández, Pedro — Lyonnais anarchist militant who asked Guy Batoux to carry out an attack in Spain (April 1963).

Barbezat, Joséline — contact of Flores Bartolomé.

Martínez, Juan — propaganda secretary of the CNT’s Lyon branch.

Ros, Antonio —organising secretary of the FIJL National Committee. May well be the Martín Armendariz who gave the final go-ahead in Lyon for attacks, as he did to Delgado in Paris.

Ros, Matias — anarchist militant, brother of the above.

Sita Setbon, Nicole — doctor, erstwhile FLN liaison agent, presently with the Lyon anarchist group.

It would also be advisable to go after the following Izquierdo, Martin, and Pilar, Françoise —[both unidentified] 3) IN TOULOUSE Premises

— at 4, Rue de Belfort, CNT and FIJL headquarters.

Individuals

Sos Yagüe, José Luis — the FIJL National Committee’s secretary for foreign relations wife of the latter, herself an enthusiastic anarchist militant.

Gurucharri, Salvador, aka El Inglés — member of the FIJL National Committee.

Molina, Antonio — member of the FIJL National Committee Liarte Ruíz, Ramón — named by Pecunia as a CIL official.

Fernández Diez, Ángel —former organising secretary of the FIJL National Committee.

Guinard Fabregat, Enríque — FIJL member in the Toulouse region.

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1976: 27 NOVEMBER —NOTES Ramos, Ángel — in Toulouse (Gard), contact of Ros, Antonio, organising secretary of the FIJL National Committee.

Martín, Moise — in Gaillac (Lot), general secretary of the FIJL National Committee.

Peréz González, Deogratias — distributed FIJL leaflets in Geneva denouncing the financial aid foreign tourists afford Franco. His parents (father is a CNT member) reside in Albi (Tarn).

4) IN PERPIGNAN

Arénas González, Aniano — harboured the famous anarchist terrorist Caraquemada, killed recently by the Civil Guard while attempting to sabotage the rail line between Port Bou and Barcelona.

Soler Ciercoles, Francisco — named as a CIL member by Pecunia and in touch with CIL official Guerrero Lucas.

Fernández Afens, Aurelio [sic, possibly Aurelio Fernández Asens]— named by Alain Pecunia and a contact of Guerrero Lucas.

Noel, Jacques — go-between who organised the mission to Spain of young French and Italians from the Pecunia group during the summer of 1962.

Gonzalvo Esteve, Jorge —in Perpignan (Pyrenees-Orientales), member of the FIJL and in contact with a large number of young Italian and Spanish libertarians.

Lalet, Jeanne — wife of Gonzalvo Esteve, in charge, as is her husband, of liaison between libertarian groups in France, Spain and Italy: frequent visitor to Spain.

5) IN AVIGNON

Marquéz Rodríguez, Antonio — CNT sympathiser in Avignon, likely to be entrusted with criminal missions on account of his simple-mindedness.

Municha Larraona, Auguste — treasurer with the CNT in Vaucluse, arrested in June 1963 while distributing FIJL leaflets.

Martí Verdu, Vicente — leading light of the Vaucluse CNT branch, arrested in June 1963 while handing out FIJL leaflets.

Clavero Flores, Andrés —in Avignon (Vaucluse), addressee of telegram from Granado Gata: the latter reported from Madrid to him on the carrying out of his mission.

6) IN GRENOBLE

Toledo Nieto, Juan — CNT member, aligned with the ‘hard-line’ tendency.

Morchon, Daniel — CNT member aligned with the ‘hard-line’ tendency.

7) IN SAINT-ETIENNE

Navarro, Floreál — in Rouen (Loire), FIJL member. Made several trips to Switzerland and Italy. Could be a liaison agent.

On 11 September 1963, the French police raided over 100 premises and arrested and charged twenty-one militants of the Juventudes Libertarias with ‘criminal conspiracy’. On 19 February 1964, Salvador Gurucharri, Vicente Martí Verdu, Antonio Ros Monero, José Pascual Palacios and Agustín Sanchez Fuster, who were still in custody in Fresnes prison in Paris, informed the Minister of Justice by letter that they were beginning a total hunger strike that same day. José Pascual was released on 23 February 1964, Agustín Sanchez Fuster and Vicente Martí Verdu were freed on 28 February. Salvador Gurucharri and Antonio Ros Monero were released on 29 February.

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I arrived in Paris in the second week of January 1924 with Buenaventura Durruti, Francisco Ascaso, and Gregorio Jover. We were beginning the next phase of our lives, one that was to take us on a seven-year-long, adventure-packed odyssey across Europe to the Caribbean, Central and South America, Britain, Germany and France before finally returning to our ‘Ithaca’ — republican Spain. Laureano and Lara stayed on in Barcelona to care for their elderly parents, promising to join us when they could. The rest of us had no major family encumbrances and, being time-served engineers, it didn’t take Durruti or me long to find work in the Renault car plant. Ascaso, in spite of his weak lungs, found work as a labourer in a lead pipe factory in Belleville, not far from our apartment in the rue de Ménilmontant.

We were lucky; in March 1924, two months after we left Spain, the Guardia Civil located and raided one of our arms dumps in Pueblo Nuevo, killing Gregorio Suberviela and Campo in the process. Aurelio Fernández survived the shootout but was caught, tortured and imprisoned. Francisco’s cousin, however, Domingo Ascaso, escaped and joined us in Paris.

Juan García Oliver was arrested around the same time in connection with the Carrer d’Avinyó rent office robbery and spent the next seven years in Burgos Penitentiary, until April 1931 when the Republic was declared and all political prisoners were amnestied.

There was little we could do for him in the meantime.

During his first few months in power, Primo de Rivera chose not to move directly against the CNT, presumably on the principle that it’s wiser to keep your enemies close to you, or at least know what they 305

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are up to, and although the confederal press wasn’t outlawed, it was rigorously censored. It was a farcical state of affairs that left the CNT unions effectively emasculated.

The dictator’s strategy was probably intended to win over the influential ‘notable militants’ like Pestaña and Peiró or some of the other factions competing for leadership of the union, as they had done with the socialists. It was a case of divide and conquer: the communist syndicalists who supported the Russian Revolution, the ‘pure’ anarchists and the anarcho-syndicalists — all of whom had their own interpretation of the union’s role in the context of the new political situation.

Some groups lost heart and disbanded or drifted apart; others kept a low profile, were broken up by the police or, like Los Solidarios, went into exile, but there were at least four or five groups who stayed behind and continued the struggle against the regime until the birth of the Republic seven years later. Reformist and Marxist syndicalists wanted the CNT to work within the highly restrictive framework of the ‘freedoms’ offered by Primo’s ‘Directorate’ in order to counter UGT influence, but they did themselves no favours with their constant sniping against the rank-and-file core of the CNT, whom they accused of imposing an anarchist dictatorship and limiting union democracy.

In an attempt to resolve these differences, the CNT convened a clandestine regional plenum in Sabadell on 24 May 1924, with the hope of thrashing out the union’s role — and the respective merits of legal and direct actions. Top of the agenda was the question: should the union concentrate on welfare, education and propaganda, or take up arms against the regime? The talk came to nothing, and a week later the CNT was outlawed when one of the anarchist action groups assassinated the Barcelona High Court Executioner.

By pure chance, a comrade discovered that Rogelio Pérez, a cobbler who had a workshop in the Carrer de Rierta, in Barcelona’s Fifth District, had been appointed the new regional executioner, a man who garrotted the state’s victims for money. Consequently, on 28 May 1924, the comrades shot him dead outside his house. As a result, all hell broke loose with countless anarchists and anarcho-syndicalists being arrested across Barcelona.

Whoever killed the executioner clearly did it because of his role as the state’s paid assassin, a man who would be taking the lives of compañeros throughout his tenure. For many anarchists, however — and not just the pacifists — the moral dilemma this placed them in was that, because he had not yet executed anyone, his killing did not fit the pattern of the classic anarchist ajusticiamiento — that is, a 306

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justifiable settling of accounts. As usual the ‘quietists’ and conspiracyoriented people claimed the killing was the work of anarchist provocateurs trying to force the authorities to drive the confederation underground in order to satisfy their own predilections for clandestine actions. Others claimed it was a pistolero provocation.

The case of the Barcelona executioner reminded me of an incident in Voltaire’s story Zadig the Babylonian. The eponymous hero was crossing a dilapidated and dangerous bridge with a mysterious hermit who had befriended him on the road, and the 14-year-old nephew of the charitable and virtuous widow at whose house they had lodged the previous night. That morning the widow’s house had burned down in mysterious circumstances, and Zadig and his companion were continuing their journey to Babylon. Halfway across the bridge, the hermit suddenly grabbed the young lad by the hair and threw him into the raging torrent below, where he was swallowed up by the river.

‘You bastard! Why on earth did you do that?’ exclaimed a shocked Zadig — or something along those lines, I paraphrase.

‘If you can be patient for a moment,’ said the hermit, ‘I’ll tell you. The boy had discovered a great treasure under the ruins of the house whose hospitality we have just enjoyed. Within a year, he would have murdered his aunt, and within two he would have done away with you as well!’

‘How do you know, you bloody barbarian?’ cried Zadig. ‘And even if you had read it in the Book of Destinies by what right do you drown someone who has done you no harm?’

Suddenly the hermit was transformed into an angel —the angel Jesrad —and Zadig fell to his knees in shock and awe.

‘O heaven sent! O divine angel, have you descended from heaven to teach a weak mortal to submit to the eternal decrees of Providence?’

‘Men,’ said the angel Jesrad, ‘judge everything without knowing anything; and, of all men, you deserve most of all to be enlightened.’

Zadig ventured a reply: ‘May I presume to ask you to clear up one doubt that still remains in my mind? Would it not have been better to have showed this youth the error of his ways and made him virtuous, rather than drowning him?’

‘Unfortunately, not,’ replied Jesrad. ‘Had he been virtuous and enjoyed a longer life, it would have been his fate to be assassinated himself, together with the wife he would have married, and the child he would have had by her.’

‘But why,’ said Zadig, ‘is it necessary that there should be crimes and misfortunes, and that these misfortunes should always fall on the good?’

‘The wicked,’ replied Jesrad, ‘are always unhappy; they serve to prove and try the small number of the just that are scattered through the earth; and there is no evil that is not productive of some good.’

‘But suppose there were nothing but good, and no evil at all,’ said Zadig.

‘Then,’ replied Jesrad, ‘this earth would be another earth. The chain of events would be ranged in another order and directed by wisdom; but this other order, which would be perfect, can exist only in the eternal abode of the Supreme Being, to which no evil can approach. The Deity has created millions of worlds, among which there is not one that resembles another. This immense variety is the effect of His immense power. There are not two leaves among the trees of the earth, nor two globes in the unlimited expanse of heaven that are exactly similar; and all that you see on the little atom in which you are born, ought to be in its proper time and place, according to the immutable

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‘But,’ said Zadig — as he pronounced the word ‘but’ the angel took flight toward the tenth sphere and called to him from on high, ‘Direct thy course toward Babylon.’

I was a great fan of Voltaire — and the angels of the tenth sphere.

The authorities seized on the executioner’s death as a pretext to criminalise the CNT, and once again activists were being interned without trial. Prominent anarcho-syndicalist ‘faces’, such as Pestaña and Peiró, were arrested, as were most of the Defence Committee.

CNT union halls and ateneos all over Spain were closed down, and the anarchist and anarcho-syndicalist press forced underground.

Even so, the Defence Committee and the cadres didn’t give up entirely on armed resistance. Throughout October, November and December there were armed confrontations between activists and police across Barcelona as the groups attempted to implement García Oliver’s idea of ‘revolutionary gymnastics’ in the hope of kick-starting a popular revolutionary uprising against the Directorate, but it proved to be neither the time nor the place.

Meanwhile, Durruti, Ascaso, myself and a few remaining survivors of the Los Solidarios group were sharing an apartment in the rue de Ménilmontant in Paris, above the Spanish-language anarchist bookshop and café we had opened with the proceeds of the Gijón bank job. The Catalan Regional Committee of the CNT had provided us with the funds, in the hope, probably, of getting us out of their hair and saving face The Paris bookshop, with its meeting room and café, quickly established itself as a hub for the international anarchist movement with exiles frequenting the centre from all over Europe. Among the regular visitors to the bookshop and our meetings was a forty-year-old ex-Guardia Civil sergeant by the name of Santillana, who, towards the end of the summer, approached Durruti with what appeared to be a well-worked-out plan for a series of concerted uprisings in the northern industrial centres of Spain between Pamplona and Barcelona.

Durruti didn’t trust Santillana, but he felt obliged to put the proposal to the Defence Committee in exile and in Barcelona, who took up the idea enthusiastically. Fortunately, we didn’t get directly 308

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involved ourselves, but we did help with the logistics and the funding.

At the beginning of November, couriers from Toulouse and Biarritz crossed the Pyrenees to liaise with the action groups in northern Spain to coordinate the rising, none of whom returned to the rendezvous point near Irun — much to the frustration of the hundred or so armed men waiting for them, men trained and led by Santillana. We were unaware that the couriers had walked into a trap and were under arrest.

In spite of the couriers’ failure to appear, the group decided to continue with the operation, crossing the frontier on the night of 6 November along an old smuggling trail near the town of Vera de Bidasoa in Navarra in the Basque country —and walked straight into a Guardia Civil ambush. In the ensuing gun battle, two Guardia were killed and one compañero was wounded.

Under cover of darkness, the men tried to retreat back into France, but they were unfamiliar with the terrain, and by daybreak on 7 November they were surrounded. Two were killed in the ensuing skirmish, four were wounded and nineteen arrested. Santillana, the ‘ex-Guardia Civil’ sergeant, who planned and set up the entire operation, turned out not to be ‘ex’ at all. He was a member of the Guardia Civil special services and an agent provocateur. The entire operation had been compromised from the very beginning.

Two days later, in Pamplona Castle, three of the comrades arrested in Vera de Bidasoa: Pablo Martín, Enrique Gil and Juan Santillán were sentenced to death by a drumhead court martial. Pablo Martín cheated the executioner by committing suicide, jumping from the top stairwell of the gallery as he was being taken to the garrote.

In Barcelona, the plan was to seize the Atarazanas barracks contemporaneously with the insurrections in Vera de Bidasoa and elsewhere, but as everywhere else, the comrades walked into an ambush in the Ronda de San Pablo, which ended with the capture of Josep Llacer and José Montejo, both members of the ‘Germen’ affinity group. They too were sentenced to death by summary court martial — with no right of appeal. Both men were garroted at dawn in the courtyard of Barcelona’s Modelo Prison.

The failure of the November rising finally convinced us that Primo de Rivera’s dictatorship was likely to endure for some time.

What we originally believed would be a short-term exile turned into a peregrination with ordeals rivalling those faced by Odysseus — though perhaps not quite so theatrical —an odyssey that took us halfway across the world and seven long years before I could again clasp my beloved Penelope — Lara — in my arms.

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TOULOUSE, SUNDAY 28 NOVEMBER 1976 Mid-day, 4 Rue de Belfort

At 12:00 o’clock precisely, Téllez, Huppertz and Meltzer entered the main conference room at 4 Rue de Belfort, through a side door from an ante-room, and took their seats at the long table. Esgleas and Montseny sat side-by-side in the front row — a pair of crows imperturbably eyeing carrion. Beside them, on either side, sat their closest advisers, Juan Sans Sicart and Vicente Llansola — ‘El Gitano Señorón’. The benches were tightly packed, mostly with Esgleas’s supporters who had come to hear Téllez’s summing up. Toulouse was their town and the couple were well respected within the emigré community, particularly Montseny whom they saw as an intelligent, feisty, cultivated woman and who, to them, was the incarnation of a mythic past, a dream that had turned into a nightmare. Everything they knew or believed about her cried out against the notion that this woman and her partner could be common fraudsters, masterminds of a conspiracy stretching back to 1939, or simply two human beings prepared to betray their comrades, their movement, their oncecherished ideals — and their integrity — simply to hang on to power, position and influence.

A scattering of Farquhar’s supporters were also in attendance, mainly from the rump of what had once been the youth organisation, the FIJL, but they were seriously outnumbered. The scene reminded Farquhar of a hillbilly shotgun wedding with a full turnout of the pregnant bride’s clan and only a handful from the railroaded groom’s side. The hostility and aggression emanating from the substantial Montseny-Esgleas faction was palpable, the room resonating with a subdued buzzing sounding ominously like a disturbed swarm of hornets.

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Téllez called the meeting to order and began addressing the assembly. His manner was low-key and matter-of-fact. He opened by saying that although he wanted to keep the lines of the story as straight and clean as possible, it was, in fact, maddeningly complex and untidy —a dog’s breakfast. Unsurprisingly, different people saying different things had turned into a contest between competing and conflicting narratives, with questionable evidence subject to wildly opposing interpretations and challenges. The role of the jury panel, he continued, was to be neutral and unbiased, but with such one-sided evidence, neutrality simply was not feasible. It was impossible to be fair or objective in assessing this case. Beyond the short statement made by Montseny, and Esgleas’s even briefer interjection, neither she nor her partner had bothered to cross-examine their accuser, nor had they offered any credible alternative to Farquhar McHarg’s story. They sat there, barricaded behind a wall of reticence and an aura of arrogance and surly disdain, refusing to collaborate with the hearing —perhaps understandably so, given its summary and arbitrary nature.

There was also the undeniable fact the couple were physically unprepared to put together their defence case.

‘The main allegation, that of treachery and complicity in the murder of Laureano Cerrada and the attempted murder of Farquhar McHarg,’ said Téllez, ‘is that Esgleas and Montseny were complicit in those deeds, agents or assets working on behalf of the Francoist and Gaullist regimes. Now, although some of comrade McHarg’s arguments, based on his personal research and Laureano Cerrada’s archives and depositions, appear plausible, they cannot be admitted as evidence. Ultimately, Farquhar McHarg’s case is based on the testimony of witnesses who are either not available to give evidence or who are unwilling to be cross-examined, which amounts to hearsay and speculation. So, in spite of the conviction in Farquhar McHarg’s mind of Esgleas and Montseny’s treachery and corruption, and his understandably strong feelings about Cerrada’s murder, he has not provided any substantive evidence linking Esgleas and Montseny to the murder gang, or to the Francoist security services. There is, however, Montseny’s admission of their ‘friendly’ relations with officers of the Direction des Renseignements Généraux, who are undoubtedly working hand-in-glove with their colleagues in the Francoist Dirección General de Seguridad. In fact, since the 1950s a protocol has existed between the two countries in which senior police liaison officers are seconded to each other’s headquarters in Paris and in Madrid.

‘As for the foreign bank statements and the related bank correspondence, while they certainly appear convincing to our 312

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untrained eyes, as comrade Montseny says, without closer forensic examination these documents are unacceptable as evidence. As Proudhon reminds us, paper never refused ink. There is no proof that the deposits referred to were genuine. It may well be that they are forgeries, an area in which, as we know, comrade Cerrada was highly skilled. Also, the tapes of the Hotel Metropole recordings, the transcripts of which we have examined, require closer forensic reexamination. The conversations, as transcribed, are full of blanks and irritatingly banal, the sort of badinage we helplessly overhear on trains, buses and in bars and cafés, fragments of boring dialogue that have little provable relevance to the allegations against Esgleas and Montseny. There is also the consideration that all of us go through life mis-hearing, mis-seeing and misunderstanding what goes on around us, ensuring that the stories we tell ourselves add up to reinforce our world view. As Buddha reminds us, where there is perception there is deception. Laureano Cerrada and the maitre d’ may well have pushed this very human tendency to a higher level. At the time he thought he was playing for higher stakes so he and the maitre d’ may well have heard what they wanted to hear, and in the process transformed the ramblings of drunks into a self-serving narrative.

‘With regard to the documents from the Renseignements Généraux and the Dirección General de Seguridad; these are clearly originals, but although they are damning, inasmuch as they prove the presence of well-placed undercover agents or confidentes, they contain nothing to identify Esgleas, Montseny or any other individual as the embedded source of police information. In fact they go out of their way to divert attention away from both Guerrero Lucas and Martínez as being agents and confidentes.

‘The allegation that both Montseny and Esgleas were complicit in the attempted murder of comrades Ascaso and Ortíz in 1939 would require the sworn testimony of Ascaso and Ortíz, but as both of them live in Venezuela in penury and poor health they are unlikely to be able to travel. Equally, it would need the sworn testimony of Juan García Oliver, presently in Mexico, one of the last surviving members of the CNT Regional Committee that allegedly ordered Manuel Escorza del Val, the head of the CNT-FAI’s Investigation and Intelligence Service, to send Justo Bueno and his team of killers to murder the two comrades. Escorza died in Chile in 1970, but he was unlikely to have provided us with any credible information in any case. We also doubt that García Oliver would be willing to admit his complicity in such goings-on.

‘Then there is Montseny’s alleged collaboration with the Nazi 313

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and Vichy regimes during the war, including the handing over, in September 1940 — in return for a ‘safe conduct’ pass from the Nazi Komandatur of Paris — of 14 suitcases containing the files of the Servicio de Evacuación de Refugiados Españoles (SERE) entrusted to her. Again, there is no evidence, nor are any witnesses prepared to support this claim, so we have to accept Montseny’s explanation as correct, or at the very least give her the benefit of the doubt, and conclude that the files fell into Nazi hands by accident, as a result of the fire at her Paris apartment in the Rue Lafayette.

‘On the other hand,’ continued Tellez, ‘while there is insufficient evidence to determine the couple’s guilt or innocence, there is a clear case that Esgleas and Montseny do have questions to answer with regard to the substantive charges of malfeasance in office and the embezzlement or misuse of CNT-MLE funds from 1939 onwards — as there is in the matter of their stewardship of the MLE and the CNT in exile. Unfortunately, none of these things fall within the jurisdiction of this Panel.

‘Comrade Esgleas claims he intends to provide a fiscal audit and an historical accounting of his stewardship of the MLE to the first full Congress of a reunited and reconciled CNT in Spain. When —or even if —that day will come is a matter for conjecture, but we strongly urge that the questions raised here this weekend regarding the roles of Esgleas, Montseny and those associated with them in the Executive Committee of the MLE since 1939 should be considered by the Organisation as a matter of absolute priority. We recommend, therefore, that among the first actions of the reconstituted CNT during the transition phase of post-Francoist Spain should be the establishment of a properly constituted Truth and Reconciliation Commission to provide a formal accounting of not only the crimes of the Franco regime but also the failures and shortcomings of the Libertarian Movement in Exile, if only to try to learn the lessons of the last 36 years and prevent their recurrence. The problem, of course, as Francis Bacon pointed out, will be defining and agreeing on the concept of “Truth”: as jesting Pilate is reputed to have said, “What is truth?” — and would not stay for an answer. Everyone has their own version of the truth as to what really happened. Even so, these commissions need to address the question of impunity, i.e. trading truths for justice, evidentiary issues, and provide a non-judicial forum for both victims and perpetrators, not necessarily to punish but at least to render verdicts and offer the victims some degree of restorative justice.

‘In the meantime, we strongly advise comrades Esgleas and 314

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Montseny to avail themselves of the services of an experienced and sympathetic advocate, and to start preparing their defence for the day when they are called upon to answer for their actions and explain whatever malevolent forces drove them to their terrible expedient. In the meantime, however, our verdict has to be one of “Not Proven”! — for both defendants, on all counts! Thank you!’

An audible collective exhalation of breath rippled through the room. Antonio Téllez Solá’s short summation had riveted the entire audience. Having clearly crossed the line between neutrality and bias he could scarcely conceal his contempt and dislike for the pair. He was, after all, only human, and having listened to Farquhar building his case there was no longer any doubt in his mind —nor in the minds of his fellow panelists —that Montseny and Esgleas were unrepentant and unredeemable scoundrels, beyond expiation. What he — and Farquhar and the other panelists — really wanted to understand was why and how they came to the decision to betray their ideals — and their comrades.

In the end, however, as jurors they had done what had been asked of them: they had listened to the arguments and delivered an opinion based on the evidence before them. In spite of their personal distaste for the couple they had at least dealt with the issues objectively.

Montseny and Esgleas listened impassively to the verdict. Turning to each other they smiled, mirthlessly, before going going into a huddle with their advisers. After a few minutes they stood up and filed out of the room trailing a chain of smiling, jubilant supporters in their wake.

Only Farquhar, Busquets, Miguel, and José Maria Villanueva of the former CNT-FAI intelligence-security organisation remained in the room. Busquets touched Farquhar's arm, lifting him momentarily from his gloomy reverie. He seemed scarcely aware of his companions. His mood was low. Montseny and Esgleas had eluded justice. This time, however, they and their cronies had been alerted and could take steps to cover their tracks and eradicate evidence.

‘We should go, compadre,’ said Busquets.

Farquhar nodded, stood up and limped slowly after his friends to the door, stopping briefly to turn off the lights in the hall before easing himself down the creaky wooden stairs into the Rue de Belfort. ****** 315

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PARIS, BELLVILLE, JANUARY 10, 1977 Farquhar walked up the hill from Ménilmontant Metro station, and turned into Belleville’s winding Rue des Cascades. It was late and he was tired. It had been a long day at the Bibliothèque Nationale reading room in the Richelieu building, after which he had spent over two hours in the Liberatión library, trawling through back issues. He was close to finishing his book, the book he owed Laureano —and all the others who had sacrificed their lives and their freedom in the struggle against injustice and tyranny.

He was also apprehensive. Empty narrow streets at night can fill even the bravest man with foreboding. Since December there had been an increasing number of attacks on prominent anti-Francoists by ultra-rightists in France and Spain. That afternoon Farquhar had heard that José María Villanueva —the former CNT-FAI intelligence operative and Vera de Bidasoa veteran who’d attended the Montseny-Esgleas Court of Honour — had been shot dead in Lyon the previous day.

Busquets had also been a victim. In December a bomb exploded in his grocery shop in Céret. No one was injured, fortunately, but his terrified wife insisted they sell up and move to an out-of-the-way village in Normandy where she had relatives. As for Miguel García, he had long since returned to the relative safety of London with Albert Meltzer.

In Spain, the ‘Transition’ from Francoism to democracy was gathering pace — but within the confines of a legality defined by the laws of expediency and the old Francoist power-brokers who still underpinned the regime. The ‘Transition’ was a sick joke, a political manoeuvre designed to allow Spain full entry into the European Common Market — and for guilty men to escape justice. It was a deal imposed from without; negotiated between Francoists who were having democracy thrust upon them, and a weak anti-Francoist opposition bereft of the ability to insist upon, let alone impose, any real change in the regime. Hardly surprising, therefore, that the ‘Transition’ should give birth to a corrupted democracy so nicely and thoroughly ‘tied up’ — as Franco had boasted before his death.

Everything appeared to be changing, but the reality was things were exactly as before. The price for this collective head-in-the-sand approach would be a prolonged collective, historical amnesia.

Farquhar stopped for a moment in the shadows of a shop doorway and lit up a Boyars. Inhaling deeply, he paused for a moment then, pursing his lips, blew a steady stream of grey-blue smoke into the cold night air. After a moment or two of silent contemplation of the night 316

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sky he continued on his way, limping slightly but at a steady leisurely pace, along the empty, snaking, cobbled street. All he could hear was the thrum of distant traffic and the echo of his own footsteps.

Gradually, he became aware of the soft purr of car engines approaching from behind, their headlights casting contorted shadows along the cobbles and across the walls. Two cars crawled slowly round the bend in the winding street behind him — a pair of black sedans, both with tinted windows, making it impossible to see the occupants.

The driver of the first car switched on his main headlight beam, flooding him in light. Blinded in the glare, Farquhar turned his head away and carried on walking, increasing his pace. The street had become a rat-trap. He had to think clearly and quickly.

Fumbling in his overcoat pocket, he undid the safety-catch on his Star. He knew exactly what he had to do, what he had done in countless similar emergencies over the years: when overtaken in the street get inside the nearest house, run upstairs to the top floor and escape across the rooftops, shooting if necessary to cover your retreat.

The house at number 53 was closest; it was also empty. It was being refurbished and had scaffolding around the building. Unfortunately, the heavy oak door was locked and padlocked. There was no way he could force an entry, nor was there a ladder that would give him access to the scaffolding, and he certainly didn’t have the strength or agility to pull himself up. The cars, still behind him, stopped; their headlights now switched off.

Farquhar hobbled across the road to the narrow passageway of the Rue Fernand, its steep steps led up to the Rue de l'Ermitage that ran parallel to the Rue des Cascades. It was his only way out. A few yards up the alleyway, however, two figures emerged from the shadows, with guns, blocking his way. They had been waiting for him.

Although the Star was in his hand, it was too late. He was surrounded on all sides. Behind him his pursuers, three dark-skinned young men carrying automatics — one of which was a sinister-looking Mac-10 machine-pistol — closed in.

Farquhar lowered his gun. It was pointless trying to shoot his way out of the situation. Best not be precipitate, he thought. Find out what these people —whoever they were —wanted. Had they been so inclined they could have killed him earlier, in a simple ‘drive-by’.

Farquhar tried to swallow, but his mouth and lips were as dry and rough as emery paper. One of the men removed the Star from his hand and took his briefcase, deftly slipping on a pair of handcuffs.

Pulling him by his coat lapels the men led him back down the alleyway to the street where the cars two cars were now parked. A 317

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man opened the rear door of the first car while the other two bundled him inside.

Seated in the back seat, pointing a gun at him, a slim, welldressed, olive-skinned man was eying him with cold hostility. A third person eased in beside him, closed the door and nodded to the driver.

‘Let’s go,’ he said. It was Germinal Esgleas The driver slipped the car into gear and drove off at high speed through the poorly-lit streets of Belleville, down the busy Fauborg du Temple towards the Place de la République. They were followed closely by the second saloon.

‘Well, senor McHarg’, said Esgleas after a few minutes silence.

‘We meet again. This time the advantage is mine.’ Tapping on Farquhar’s briefcase on his lap, he asked, ‘So, how is your book coming along?’

The men in front gave out sardonic laughs; the man holding the gun on Farquhar smiled knowingly.

‘Coming along nicely. Thanks for asking.’

‘You see, Farquhar,’ continued Esgleas, ‘both you and Laureano made serious errors of judgement —a bad mistake —when you came after me and Federica. You were determined to open old wounds — and make new ones — without considering the consequences. We could not possibly have allowed your book to be published. My friends have been to your apartment today and have removed your typescript and files.’ Pointing to the briefcase on his lap he said: ‘All we needed were these notes. I take it these are all you have?’

‘Not quite,’ said Farquhar. ‘My lawyer has a carbon copy of everything, apart from my most recent notes. These are just peripheral jottings. Nothing particularly relevant to the main thesis of the book.’

It was true. He had met his lawyer that afternoon in the reading room of the Bibliothèque Nationale and given him the carbon copy of his typescript, with instructions to pass it on to the editor of Liberatión in the event of his death.

The man beside Farquhar’s leaned closer, pressing the barrel of the automatic against his chest. ‘Listen to me, hijo puta, he growled.

‘You’re lying. We’ve been watching you for weeks now. You’ve gone nowhere near your lawyer. You didn’t think we would let you expose our agents and our operation at this crucial moment in Spain’s history.

Farquhar chose not to rise to the bait. The situation wasn’t one which from which he could extricate himself with cantankerous banter.

Turning to Esgleas, Farquhar asked: ‘Might I at least know where we are going? I’m presuming you’ve skipped the honour court part of 318

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1977: 10 JANUARY —PARIS

due process and have something else in mind for me?’

‘We are taking you for a debriefing.’ said Esgleas. ‘After that we’ll consider our options.’

‘I don’t know why we are wasting time,’ snapped the man with the gun next to Farquhar. ‘We should finish him off here and now.’

It was clear to Farquhar they meant to kill him — after doing who knew what to extract the information they wanted. He had no intentions, however, of going placidly — or gently — into that good night, no matter what noise or whose haste might be involved.

The car turned right off of the Rue du Faubourg du Temple and was travelling at speed along the Quai des Jemmapes, parallel with the Canal St-Martin. As they approached the footbridge that leads across to the rue Léon-Jouhaux Farquhar suddenly leaned forward, looped his handcuffed hands around the driver’s head, and pulled and twisted the man’s neck with all his strength, lifting him out of his seat. Forced to remove his hands from the steering wheel, the driver clawed desperately at his neck in an attempt to loosen Farquhar’s handcuff garotte from his windpipe, but a speedy, powerful jerk and a sickening crack meant it was too late.

With the dead driver’s foot jamming the accelerator pedal to the floor, the car swerved off the road, narrowly missing a tree, and plunged straight into the deep, black waters of the Canal St-Martin.

Farquhar didn’t hear the shots from the man by his side as he struggled with the driver, he only felt an intense pulse of heat against his side, then a commanding lassitude creeping over his limbs, numbing his arms. He knew he had been shot, but felt strangely detached in the knowledge. It seemed to him that he had grown accustomed to the heat, and the pain in his side wasn’t exactly a pain . . . The world was spinning around him, faster and faster. Cold and dizzy he slipped in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of the men panicking around him, yelling and scrabbling desperately to escape their watery tomb.

He knew that he was talking, but he didn’t know what he said.

Another burst of pain. A vision came to him, a great steamship, slowly wheeling in to Barcelona harbour with whistles blowing and bells clanging. While Farquhar looked down on this scene, as from a great height, there was a massive explosion by his ear, and in his mind’s eye he saw a blinding flash . . .

He was talking again, meaningless ramblings. Tiredness was engulfing him; he was drifting off to sleep and could not resist, nor did he want to. Voices from his past surrounded him: Laureano, Durruti, 319

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Lara and Dan Macphail. The world around him was growing grey and cloudy until finally it was black. The throbbing pain in Farquhar’s side and head subsided. The world was slipping away and he was alone.

As he floated in the void, Lara appeared, smiling, her arms outstretched towards him and for a brief moment they were together again. As he took her hand in his the words of his old shipmate Dan Macphail came back to him.

I travel and know not whither ...

Now he knew.

320

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INDEX Álvarez Palomo, Ramón (‘Ramonín’) 86-87, 95, 199 Amador, Antonio 33, 249 Amil Barcía, Manuel 204 Amon, Blanco 171 Anarchist Black Cross (ABC/CNA) 186 Angiolillo Lombardi, Michele 112-113 Anglada, Salvador 64, 117-118 Angles, Carlos 159 Angry Brigade, The (affinity group) 93 A Anual (massacre of) 137, 223-224, 261, 269 ABC (monarchist weekly) 75 Aparicio de Cuenca, Pedro 135, 153 Abau, Joan 127, 138 Aragay, Antonio 30 Abd-el-Krim al Khattabi 137-138, 224, 267 Aragón, Council of (Consejo de Aragón) 9-10, Abelló, Andreu 282 16, 201-202 Abarca Ruíz, Francisco 300, 302 Aragón, Treasure of 202 Abos, José, 285 Archs Serra, Ramón 18, 20, 31, 33, 36, 39, 43, Acción Social Obrera 40-41, 141, 149 45, 49-51, 54-57, 60, 64, 99-102, 104-106, Adame, Manuel 253, 255, 257 109, 111-112, 117-119, 128-132, 143, 157 Agence France Presse 186 Archs Serra, Manuel 132 Agrupación de Fuerzas Armadas de la Archs Serra, Vicenta 132 República Española —AFARE (Spanish Ardanza, General 180, 183 Republican Armed Forces Group) 198 Areilza, Jose Maria de 201 Aguado, Teresa 212, 216 Arénas González, Aniano 303 Aguila, Carlos Soriano 290 Arias Navarro, Carlos 75, 200 Aguilar, Salvador 124 Arín, Francisco 159-160 Aguilera, General 248 Arino Sahun, Robert 301 Ajax, Ismael Rodríguez 288-290, 292-294 Ariso, José 285-287 Alaiz, Felípe 58, 166, 226 Arjona Salas, Lázaro 294 Alba y Yeltes, Conde de 269 Arlandis, Hilario 120, 151-152, Albadalejo Corredera, Francisco 93 Arleguí y Bayones, General Miguel (Police Albadetrecu, 26, 41, 149 Commissioner 21, 25, 27, 29, 33, 52, 54, 57, Albareda, Antoni 54, 117 60, 64, 100-104, 108, 113, 116, 118, 123-126, Albaricias, Jaime 183, 240 128-131-133, 135-136, 147, 156, 164, 171-172, Alberola, José 92, 137, 221 175-179 Alberola Surinach, Octavio 69, 75, 92, 94 Armengol, Bernat 30-33, 36, 243 Alcodovar 173 Arrendateria de Contribuciónes (rent office Alberic, Luis 243 Alfonso XIII, King 125-127, 138, 155, 170, 223, robbery) 255 Ascaso Abadía, Alejandro 165, 255 233, 239, 247, 260-261, 266, 269 Ascaso Abadía, Andrés 153 Algerian National Liberation Front (FLN) 92, Ascaso Abadía, Domingo 23, 41, 115, 122-123, 295, 302 155, 305 Aliaga, Serafin 195-197 Allendesalazar Muñoz de Salazar, Manuel 34, Ascaso Abadía, Francisco 15-16, 23, 41, 134, 153-154, 161, 164, 166-168, 170, 226, 228113, 115, 138 229, 239, 243, 249-250, 253, 257, 267-268, Alianza Nacional de Fuerzas Democraticos 95 305 Alianza Sindical Española (ASE) 296 Ascaso Abadía, Joaquín 23, 41, 193, 201-202, Aliaga, Serafín 197 313 Alianza Popular (AP) 8 Associacio Catalana dels Amics de la Música Alomar, Gabriel 164, 176 167 Altea, Viscount de 46 Asociación Vérité-Liberté, La 299 Altos Hornos de Vizcaya 100 Association Internationale des Travaileurs Álvarez, Aníbal 52-54, 128 (AIT- see International Workingmen’s Álvarez, Asdrúbal 52-54, 128 Association) Álvarez Canossa, Emilio 98 Asprer, Puig d’ 125 Álvarez Montana, Pedro 100 XIth Division 202 9th Artillery Company 21 24th Army Division 202 25th Army Division 203 51st Highland Division 16 104th Brigade 94 119th Mixed Brigade 283 127th Mixed Brigade (28th Army Division) 15

321

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 Ataranzas police headquarters 32 Ateneo Sindicalista 182 Atocha (massacre) 94 Azanedo Grande, Eusebio 16, 204 Azaña Díaz, Manuel 282 Azorin, Don Emilio 44

Bayo Poblador, Eliseo 89, 276 Bebb, Cecil 203 Befreiung 186 Belver de Cinca (concentration camp) 15 Benavent, Roser 105-106, 127 Benazet, M. 15 Benet, Tomás 23 Benton, Kenneth 15 B Beranza, Juan 151 Bacon, Sir Francis 314 Bergamín, Francisco 42 Badalona (anarchist affinity group) 173 Bermejo, Manuel (‘El Madriles’) 175 Bagallal y Araujo, Gabino Conde de 43, 48, Bermejo Perea, Antonio 289, 291 171, 231 Bernal, José Hilario 41, 147-150 Bajatierra, Mauro 109, 238 Bernal, Lorenzo 285 Bakunin, Michael 134, 209 Baldrich, Carlos (‘Onelo’) 35, 52, 162-163, 219, Berro, Francisco 32-33 Berthon, André 98 240 Bertrán i Güell, Joan Balladé, Roberto 93 Bertrán i Musitu, Josep 11=12, 21, 64, 98, 126, Ballano, Adolfo 258 130, 139, 146 Ballota Gil, Luis 290 Besos Protocol 224, 252 Baltasar Suárez, Ángel 13, 69, 74 ‘Banda Negra’ (Black Gang) 27-29, 36, 63, 243 Besteiro, Julián 115 Black Flag 186 ‘Bandera Negra’ (anarchist affinity group) Black Squadrons (squadristi nera)266 Bank of Credit and Commerce International Blanco, Lt. Colonel (General) Eduardo 72-73, (BCCI) 274-275 75, 86, 201 Bank of England 193 Bank of Spain, (Gijón bank robbery) 257, 264, Blanco, Josep 173 Blue harlequins (see CNT defence groups) 42 308 Baptista Acher, Joan (‘El Poeta’) 117, 126-127 Boada, Pedro 131 Boal, Evelio 43, 45-46, 57-58, 108, 115, 117, Bar L’Esquerrade L’Eixample 156 129-130, 143 Barba, Maestro 112, 167 Bocchini, Arturo 266-267 Barber, Francisco 243, 248 Boletín Oficial 34 Barbezat, Joséline 302 Bonnot Gang, The 160 Barceló (SS) 59 Borbón, Don Jaime de 169, 250 Barcelona Libertarian Federation 120 Borghi, Armando 61 Barcelona Local Federation of Anarchist Bornichon, Monique 302 Groups 166 Borrás Cascarosa, José 6, 284-286 Barcelona prisoners’ aid committee 159 Bösiger, André 92 Barcelona Town Hall (wages snatch) 225 Bosque, El (Chinese restaurant) 94 Barcelona Tramway Company 47 Botamino González, Arturo 291 Bardou, Joseph 3 Boticario, Marcelino (‘Boti’) 87, 185, 189, 282, Bardou, Pierre 13 284 Bargutia 165 Bramhill, SS 193 Baroja, Pio 19 Brand 200 Barrera, Martí 57, 249 Brau, Eusebio 165, 171, 257-258, 260 Barret, Josep Albert (employer) 131 Bravo, Francisco 103 Barriobero, Eduardo 125, 148-150 Bravo Portillo, Manuel 18, 85, 155 Barthé 166 Briga Abizando, José Villa 16 Bartleby the Scrivener 187 Brigada Político Social (BPS) 10, 18, 69, 72, Bartolomé, Flores (‘Fernández’) 302 75, 84, 92-93, 201, 280-281 (Oviedo Regional Batista 134 Social Investigation Brigade) 287 (Madrid Batista y Zaldívar, Fulgencio 91 Regional Brigade) (Barcelona Regional Batalla, Ramón 54 Brigade) 297 Batlle, Josep 106 Brigada Especial (Special Brigade) 85, 220, Batlle, Modesto 20 226, 238, 248-249 Batoux, Guy 299, 302 British Union of Fascists 203 Bauer-Mengelberg Brooke, Rupert 67 Bautista, Pere 129

322

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INDEX Buch, Amadeu 219 Buenacasa, Manuel 25, 40-41, 145, 151, 153, 257. 237-238, 268 Bueno, Justo 313 Bueso, Adolfo 222 Bugallal y Araujo, el Conde Gabino 115-117 Buigas, Joaquin (‘Pescater’) 32 Bundo, Juan 199 ‘Bunker’, The 8, 74, 84-85, 89, 93-94, 191, 200, 276 Burns, Robert 20, 26 Burns, Tom 203 Busquets Verges, Juan 3-4, 8, 14, 67-71, 74, 7784, 87-88, 90, 185-189, 200, 268, 275, 279, 282, 315-316 Busquets, Yvette 3 Bustamente 160

C Cagney, James 242 Calanda, Adolfo Domingo 145 Calderón, Javier 273 Calderón, Luis 130 Callejas, Liberto 143, 166, 208, 226 Camarasa Í, Ginés 289 Camaresa, Maria 159 Cambó i Batlle, Francesc 116, 139, 142, 178, 231, 252, 261 Campa 18 Campo, Marcelino del (‘Tomás Arrate’) 26, 39, 154, 165, 305 Campi, Amadeo 235 Comunista, El (paper) 41 Canadiense, La 55 Canalejos y Mendez, José 113 Canaris, Wilhelm 63 Canela, Josep 52, 183 Cano, Carmelo, Casale 285 Cánovas del Castillo, Prime Minister Antonio 112-113, 244 Canuda, Benicho 6, 69, 89, 93, 95 Cañal, Carlos 46 Capdevila, Antonio 54 Capdevila, Ramon Vila (‘Caraquemada’) 295, 303 ‘Caraquemada’ (see Ramon Vila Capdevila ) Carballeira Rego, Ángel 283 Carballeira Montorio, Gloria 283 Carbó, Eusebio 38, 60 Careño, Francisco 196 Carrer d’Avinyó (rent office robbery) 305 Carlos de Borbón y Borbón, King Juan 200 Carlos y Bas, Federico 34, 36, 46-48 Carlucci, Bruno Carmine 302 Carmen barracks (Zaragoza) 21-23, 41 Carod, Saturnino 16 Carrara (International Anarchist Congress,

1968) 93 Carrasco Martínez, Francisco 290 Carrasquer Launed, Félix 285-286 ‘Carrer de Toledo’ (affinity group) 105, 117, 125-128, 130-133 Carrer de Valencia (affinity group) 105 Carrillo, Santiago 94 Carson, Sir Edward 126 Casado, Colonel Segismundo 194, 203 Casals, Pablo 167 Casals, Francisco 46 Casanelles Lluch, Ramón 37-38, 109-112 Casanovas, Joan 180, 213 Casanovas, Juan 37 Castaños, Eduardo Madrona 289, 291 Castella, Joan 264 Castrena, Luis 246 Castreo de la Torre, Antonio 16 Castro, Josepa 117 Castro Bartuff, José 290 Cataà, Juan 97 Català Tineo, Sigfrido 204 Catalan-Balearic Regional Anarchist Congress (Montjuic) Catalan Labour Party 182 Catalan Liberal Party 183 Catalan Union 142 Catholic Action 252 Catholic Evidence Guild 203 Celma Martín, Miguel 91, 283-284 Central Anti-Fascist Militias Committee 9, 192 Centro Superior de Información de la Defensa (CESID) 93, 280 Centro Fraternidad Rebublicana 55 Cerdeño, Amalio 174-176 Cerrada Santos, Laureano, 4-9, 11-13, 15 16, 69-70, 74, 77, 80, 82, 84, 86-87, 89, 92, 95-98, 165, 186, 189-191, 195, 199, 204, 258, 271276, 278-279, 312-313 Cervera, Vicente 54 CESID (see Centro Superior de Información de la Defensa) Cesped, Fernández 179 CGT (Portuguese union) 184 Champalimaud, Antonio 273 Charles I, King 190 Chevalier, Alexandre 302 ‘Chica Amate, José’ (Joaquin Delgado) 300 Chica González, Manuel 290 Christie, Stuart 73 Chueca, Ángel 21-23, 1 Chueca, José 41 Churchill, Winston 203 Cicuttini, Carlo 93 Cierva, Juan de la 127, 247-248 Cimadori, Alfredo 267 Cinca, José 52, 240

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 ‘Cincopuntistas’ 192 Ciudad de Ibiza, SS 296-298 Civico Garrido, Diego 290 Claramunt, Josep 173, 175 Claramunt, Teresa 244-245 Clavero Flores, Andrés 303 Climent, Rafael 175 Climent, Ramón (‘El Gabardinas’) 175 Clot, Julio del 36 CNT 199, 205, 271, 284 CNT: Banking and Administrative Workers’ Union 240 CNT: Barcelona Local Federation 105, 108 CNT: Calanda Liaison Commission 283 CNT: Coachbuilders’ Union 182 CNT: Committee for Revolutionary Coordination 263, 269 CNT: Congress (1919) 40, 60, 137, 147, 150 CNT: Congress of Regional Committees (1938) 203 CNT: Congress – 1st {1945) 199 CNT: Congress – 2nd {1961), 283 CNT: Congress – 3rd (1963 – Toulouse) 272 CNT: Construction Workers’ Union 54 CNT: Defence Committee action groups/cadres (Blue Harlequins) 3, 8, 13, 28-29, 32-33, 3738, 42, 46, 53-54, 60, 85, 94-95, 97, 99-100,104-106, 108, 120, 123-124, 128, 131, 133, 136, 140, 152,160, 162, 168-169, 172, 175, 178, 181-183, 191, 211-212, 219, 222, 224-226, 229, 233, 238, 241, 246, 251-252, 256, 262, 269, 271, 274, 283, 294, 304, 308309 CNT: Fabric and Textile Workers’ Union 55-56, 85, 107, 228, 240 CNT: Gijón Defence Commission 95 CNT: Graphic Arts Union 30, 100 CNT: Hotel Industry, Cafe and Cook’s Alliance (‘la Gastronómica’) 166, 264 CNT: Local Federation (Paris) 204 CNT: Maritime Workers’ Union 53, 211 CNT: Metalworkers’ Workers’ Union 46, 54, 108 CNT: National Committee (in Exile) (CNTE) 6, 9-10, 71, 189, 196-198, 274, 280, 295, 300 CNT: National Committee 10, 13, 15-16, 56-58, 61, 63, 71-73, 75, 86-87, 95, 98, 115, 119, 137, 141, 145, 151, 168-169, 180, 194, 196, 201, 203-204, 211, 250, 253, 255, 263, 269, 275, 289-291 CNT: National Conference (1922 - Zaragoza) 147, 153, 183 CNT: Plenum of Federations (Aragón, Rioja and Navarre) 283 CNT: Provincial Committee (Lérida) CNT: Regional Committee (Andalucia) 145, 287 CNT: Regional Committee (Catalonia) 24, 30,

54-55, 58, 86, 96, 106-107, 120, 156, 206, 220, 256, 261, 263, 268-269, 287, 308 CNT: Regional Committee (Levant) 137 CNT: Regional Committee (Asturias) 287 CNT: Regional Plenum (Sabadell, 1924) 287 CNT: Revolutionary Committee of Asturias 95 CNT: Waiters’ Union 117, 146 CNT: Water, Gas and Electrical Workers’ Union 100, 102, 228 CNT: Woodworkers’ Union 30, 55, 105, 143, 165, 168, 207, 220, 222 CNT-FAI: Defence Commission 92 CNT: Regional Defence Committee (Catalonia) 29-31, 33, 100, 308 CNT-FAI Investigation and Intelligence service 12 CNT-FAI Foreign Intelligence service (Servicio de Información y Coordinación - SIC) 203 CNT-MLE funds Cobos, Fernández 247 Coello y Portugal, Count of 42, 47, 133, 138, 147, 231, 270 Coinde, Eusebio 101 Coll, Ángel 52 Coll, Juan 38-39 Coll, Salvador (‘Mallorca’) 129 Comás y ‘Pagés, Francisco (‘El Perones’) 214216, 220-222 Comás y ‘Pagés, Pere 220 Comisiones Obreras (CCOO -Workers’ Commissions) 93, 192 Comintern (see Second International) Comisaría general de información 201 Committee of Anarchist Relations 114 Companys, Lluis 14, 48, 51, 116, 214 Comunista, El 41 Conça, José 52 Concepción, Maria Luisa 111 Conesa Escudero, Roberto 201 Connolly, James, 22 Constructora Naval (wages robbery) 173 Continental (Hotel) 117 ‘Conducción Ordinario’ 60, 114, 135 Consejo de Ciento barracks 131 Cordóba Gómez, José 290 Cordóba Peréz, Tomás 291, 293 Corominas, Pere 51 Cortes, Francisco Vicente 290 Costa, Nicanor 53 Cotton Committee 55, 57 Comisión Regional Anarquista (CRA) 170 Credit Suisse 274 Cremonin, Bernardo 267 Crespo, Josefa 127-128 Crespo, Mariano Lencina 290 Crisol! (affinity group) 165 Crisól! (newspaper) 167, 170, 208, 226, 235

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INDEX E

Creuhet, Martin 131 Crusat, Antoni 52 Cuicha, Juan Bautista 127 Cultura y Acción 41 Cunyat, Francisco 157-159 Curtin, M 300

D Dalmau, 244 Dato e Iradier, Eduardo Prime Minister 34-38, 43-44, 47, 56-57, 60, 100, 104, 106, 108-114, 116, 120, 122-123, 130, 226, 237-238, 268 Daura, Gregorio 59 Defensa Interior (DI) 68-69, 91, 271, 297, 271, 274, 297 Delgado Martínez, Joaquin 92-93, 272, 300 Delgado, Ignacio 111 Della Chiaie, Stefano 93 Denís Díez, Francisco (‘El Català’) Detención Gubernativa 27 Deutschmarks (forging of) 96 Deuxième Bureau de l’État-major général 7, 29, 36, 63 Diaro, Irenofilo 208 Díaz, Adolfo 111 Díaz Moreno, Joaquín 93 Dirección General de Seguridad (DGS Directorate General of Security) 71, 74-75, 77, 86, 92, 199, 201, 238, 280, 282, 287, 306, 312-313 Direction de la Surveillance du Territoire (DST) 13, 281 Domenech Rivas 146-148 Domingo, José (‘El Marino’) 102 Domingo, Marcelino 168 Domingo, Martínez (mayor) 129, 131 Dominguez, José 130 Dominican Order, The 272 Dot Arderieu, José 302 Drouet, Claude 302 Dufur, Lluís (‘Larrosa’) 105, 133, 136 Duke of Wellington, The 138 Dumlupinar (battle of) 267 Durán, 137 Durán, Francisco 290 Durruti, Anastasia 259 Durruti, Buenaventura 10, 15, 25-26, 39-41, 86, 92, 95, 114-115, 122-124, 134, 148, 154, 161, 164-165, 167-168, 170-171, 182, 203, 226, 229, 237-239, 243-244, 249, 252-253, 255, 257-259, 264, 269, 305, 308, 319 Durruti Column 97, 198, 200 Durruti, Mimi 203 Durruti, Santiago 243 Dutch Marine Union 184 Dzherzinsky, Felix 62

Edo, Luis Andrés 69, 271-272 Egea Tineo, Emilio 93 Eguia, (Libre Sec. Gen) 168 Eibar foundry (robbery) 124 Einstein, Albert 208-210, 215 Einstein, Elsa 208 Elizondo 26 Enskilda Bank 274 ‘Escombraires, Los’ (affinity group) 227 Escorza del Val, Manuel 12, 14, 194-195, 313 Escudero, Police Commissioner Conesa 93-94 Esgleas, Germinal 6, 8-16, 68-71, 74, 76-77, 7980, 85-86, 88-89, 91-98, 185-192, 194-204, 271-272, 274-278, 281-282, 295, 311-316, 318319 España Nueva 82 Español, Francisco 158 Espejo Aguilar, Inspector Antonio 50, 59-60, 64, 100, 102-103 Espejo Trillo, José 290 Espinalt, Ramón 162, 208 Espino, Sr 64 Espoir 295 Estella, Nicolás León 71 Esteruelas, Cruz Martínez 273 Estéve, Ramón 107 Estévez Coll, Captains José 16 Estrada, Francisco 125 Esturia, Rafael Adarve 290 European Academy of Political Science (AESP) 272 European Council (EU) 272 Evacuation Juntas 194 Excoriza 41

F Fabregas, Evaristo 106 Facerías, Jose Lluis (‘Face’) 7, 85, 274 Farreras, Tomás 243 FAUD (Freie Arbeiter Union Deutschland) 62, 184 Feced, Inocencio 44-45, 59, 107, 172-176, 179, 213-215, 218-219, 221-222, ‘Fecundidad’ (affinity group) 207 Federación Anarquista Ibérica (FAI) 8-9, 11-12, 14, 16, 91, 96, 98, 170, 192-194, 196, 199-200, 202-203, 237, 273, 299, 301, 313, 315-316 Federación Ibérica de Juventudes Libertarias (FIJL) 12, 16, 71-72, 75-76, 91-93, 185, 295296, 299, 300-301, 311 Paris Local Federation) 271-272 (FIJL Liaison Commission) 284 (FIJL National Committee) 303 Federación Obrera Regional Argentina (FORA) 184 Federation of Anarchist Groups 236

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 Federalist Union of Catalonia 51 Federation of the Mixed International Masonic Order ‘Rights of Man’, The 76 Felíu, Antonio 130, 143 Félix de Lequerica, José 98 ‘Fernández’ (see Flores Bartolomé) Fernández Alegría, José 248 ‘Fernández, Ángel’ (Evelio Boal) 108 Fernández Asens, Aurelio 165, 170-171, 232, 234, 237, 257-259, 303, 305 Fernández Diez, Ángel 303 Fernández Cabricano, Manuel 289 Fernandez Cerdá, José 93 Fernández-Cuesta y Merelo, Raimundo 273 Fernández Diez, Ángel 302 Fernández , Juan (‘El Meco’) 31, Fernández, Juan José 110 Fernández, María 117 Ferrer, Eduardo 131 Fernández, María 117 Ferrer I Guardia, Francisco 111, 137, 269 Ferrer, Inspector 101 Ferrer, Juan 95 Ferry, Bernard 299 Figueras, Juan 228 Figueroa Gilo y Cia 243 First of May Group (Grupo Primero de Mayo affinity group) 6, 13, 68-69, 93 Flor, Agustin 103 Flores Bartolomé (Fernández, Pedro) 302 Floristan, Julian 285 Foix, Pere (Josep Josep Maria) 46, 52, 129, 211-212, 218, 240 Folcz, Eduardo 229 Foncillas, Francisco (‘Paul’) 302 Fondo de Francia (robbery) 255 Fontana (lawyer) 125 FORA (see Federación Obrera Regional Argentina) Foreign and Commonwealth Office (British) 203 Forondo, Marques de 47 Fort, Jaume 53, 240 Fortuny Theatre (Reus) 167 Fraga Iribarne, Manuel 8, 201. 273 Fragua Social 170 Francés, José 157, 159 Franquesa, Josep 248 French Anarchist Federation (FAF) 299, 301 Fuerza Nueva 93 Fundición Alexandre (factory) 107

G Gaceta Ilustrada, La 89, 276 Galdós, Cecilio 11 Gambín, Joaquín 275 Garate y Anitua (arms factory) 257

García, Francisco (‘El Patillas’) 54 García García, Miguel 15, 186-187, 275, 282, 315-316 García Juliá, Carlos 93 García Marín, Rafael 290 García Oliver, Juan, 10, 12, 14, 16, 114, 146, 154, 165-166, 169, 192-196, 201, 203, 224226, 228-229, 235-237, 250-251, 253, 255-256, 277, 305, 308, 313 García Prieto, Manuel 183, 261-262, 282 García, Ramón 176 García Tirador, Onofre (SIS) 16 García Velasco, Ladislao 289 Gardenys, Sabaté, Josep 173-175, 215, 217-218 GARI (see Grupos de Acción Revolucionario Internacional) Garrow, Captain Ian 16 Generalidad Defence Council 9, 192 Generalidad Economic Council 9, 197 Genny, Theodore 29 George III, King 138 Germaine, André 8-9, 13, 197, 274 ‘Germaine, Fanny’ (Federica Montseny) 9, 197 ‘Germen’ (affinity group) 309 Germinal (Zola) 77 Gestapo 6, 11, 16, 63, 73, 201, 281 Gil, Antonio 95 Gil, Enrique 309 Gil, Nieves González 285 Gillette, Norman C. 69 Giménez, Conrado, 34 Giménez, Luis del Moral 284 Giménez, Manuel 21, 34 Giméno 285 Ginés Camarasa, Í 289 Giopp, Globbe 267 Girón de Velasco, José Antonio 273 Gomar, Ramón 101 Gómez, Manuel 100 Gómez Peláez, Francisco 94-95 Gómez, Resituto 32 González, Felipe 94 González, José Germán 196 Gonzalvo Esteve, Jorge 303 Gorron Canoyran, Fidel 289, 292 Gracia, Victoriano 135, 153, 247 Granado Gata, Francisco 71, 272, 300, 303 Granado, Pilar 76 Gran Oriente de España 208, 211-212, 231 Grand Dinner Charlemagne 272 Grand Hotel of the Four Nations (Le Quatre Nations) 208 Grand Orient de France 13 Grande Oriente d’Italia 76 Grau, Manuel (‘El Mas’) 33 Grauperá, Félix Angel 20-21, 24, 27, 43, 63, 219

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INDEX Great Detective Agency (Baron de Koenig) 140 Grisca, Fulgencio 52 Grupos de Acción Revolucionario Internacional (GARI) 6, 13, 68-69, 93 Guerra, Gregori 212 Guerra del Río, (lawyer) 23, 125 Guerrero Lucas, Jacínto 73, 201, 275, 280, 300303, 313 Guerrillas of Christ the King 84 Guinard Fabregat, Enríque 303 Guiralda, La 50 Gurucharri, Salvador (‘El Inglés’) 302 Gusi, Juan 255 Gutierrez, Adolfo 41, 147

H Habsburg, Archduke Otto von 272-273 Haldin, Victor 90 Hamilton Stokes, Leonard 15-16 Helsinki Accords, The 273 Heraldo de Aragón, El 23, 41 Hernández, Jesús 282 Hernández, Sergio 75 Herranz, Inspector Mikel 13 Herreros, Martin 75 Herreros, Tomás 52-53, 235 Hese, 231 ‘Hiéron du Val d’Or’ 171, 260 Hijos del Puebo! (bulletin) 170 Hillgarth, Captain Alan (SIS — Naval Intelligence) 194, 203 Hinman, Commander (SIS) 16 Hoare, Sir Samuel 16 Homs (wife – ‘La Paguesa’) 156 Homs, Pedro Mártir 44-45, 53, 125, 153, 156, 172, 179, 212-214, 219, 221-223 235, 240-241, 248 Hortet, Andreu 162 Horthy, Miklós 18 Hunters’ Club (Circle), The 227, 229 Huppertz, Willy 186, 189, 311 Hut, Adrian 302

I Ibañez, Jesús 120, 122 Iberian Liberation Council (CIL) 295-296, 301 Iglesias Álvarez, Aurelio 289, 291 Iglesias, Pablo 265 Iglesias Perea, Aurelio 289 Imbernon, Nardo 302 Imperio 266 Impulso (anarchist group) 114 Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) 62, 184 Iniesta Cano, Carlos, 273 Inglés, Honorio (police inspector) 156, 179 Iñigo, Rafael 137 Intaglio printing plates (Bank of Spain) 96

‘International’ (affinity group) 103 International (Second) Comintern 60-63, 115, 120-121, 152 International (Third) 40, 60-61, 115, 119-121, 136, 150-152 International of Red Unions, (Profintern) 6162, 119-120, 122, 137, 151, 184 International Revolutionary Solidarity Movement (IRSM – First of May Group) 93 International Working Men’s Association (IWMA/AIT) 11, 62, 115, 152, 184, 284 Intersyndicale Ouvrière de Langue Espagnole en France 121 Irujo, Manuel de 202 Isgleas, Francesc 196 Iturbe, Lola (Dolores Iturbe Arizcuren) 258

J ‘J.M.C.’ (informer) 13 Jacobo, Roberto 69 Jaume el Pelao 56, 208 Jesrad, The Angel 307 Jeunesses Libertaires Françaises 302 Jímenez, Antonio (‘El Señorito’) 157-159 Jímenez, Francisco 32 Jover Cortés, Gregorio 165, 305 ‘Juanel’ (see Manuel Molina) Journal Officiel 301 Julí, Josep 99 Julletes, Antonio 36 ‘June 2nd Group’ 93 Junien 54 Justicia Castro, Francisco 290 ‘Justicieros, Los’ (affinity group) 39-41, 114, 123-124, 148-149, 153-154, 164-165 Juventudes Socialistas Unificadas (JSU) 201

K Kater, Fritz 210 Kemal, Mustapha Koenig, Baron de (Rudolph Ställmann, Rex, Colonel Lemoine) 21, 25, 27-30, 34, 62-64, 85, 241, 243 Komandatur (Greater Paris) 314, 98 Kramarze, Nuta 62 Kronstadt (sailors of) 151 Kropotkin, Peter 134

L Labriola, Arturo 136 Laguía Llitera, Juan 51, 180-182, 228-229 Lalet, Jeanne 303 Lantier, Etienne 77 Lanza, Concepción 260 Laporta, Julio 42 Largo Caballero, Francisco 10, 14, 43, 200-201, 265

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 LaRouche, Lyndon 77, 276-277 Larrosa 218 Lara 258, 319-320 Lasarte, Captain Julio (dossier; General Intelligence Section) 64, 140, 183 Lastra, José 125 Latre Jorro, Luis 247 Lätt. Nisse 198 Layret, Francesc 48, 51-52, 59, 116, 135, 182 ‘Lazaro, Ignacio’ 285 Left-Wing Communism: an Infantile Disorder 62 ‘Lemoine, Colonel’ (see Baron de Koenig) Lencina Crespo, Mariano 290 Lenin, Vladimir 61-62, 121-122, 136, 154 Lerdo de Tejada, Fernando 93 León, Inspector 29, 31-32 León Estella, Nicolás 71 Leone, Errico 136 Lerroux, Alejandro 22, 51, 168 Leval , Gaston 120, 122, 137 Leyva, José 199 Ley de fugas 37, 43, 58, 99, 103-104, 112, 116, 118, 131, 135, 176-177, 239, 270 Liarte Ruíz, Ramón 302 Liberal, El 262 Liberatión 316, 318 Libres (see Sindicatos Libres) Liceo Opera house 117 Liciaga, Eusebio 102 Liciaga, José 101 Liebnicht, Karl 18 Líster Forján, General Enrique 202 Lojendio, Miguel Maria de 273 López, Joaquín 42 López, Police Commissioner José de Diego 75 López, Juan 46 López, Miguel González 287 López Maimar, Bernard 249, 260 López Maimar, Juliana 114, 124, 249, 257, 260 López, Lt Colonel Manuel González 75 López López, Manuel 204 López, Valeriana 111 Lucha Social 137 Luna, González 148 Luque, General 109 Luzovsky 61 Luxembourg, Rosa 18 Lyon postal van robbery 97 Lyon d’Oro (restaurant) 117

LL Llabres, Bartólomé 46 Llacer, Josep 309 Llado, Bru (‘Irn Bru’) 162 Llansana 18 Llansola Renau, Vicente (‘El Gitano Señorón’) 74, 91-93, 272, 311

Llave, Tomás La 112 LLesta , José Aristo (‘Escanilla’) 287 Lliga Regionalista 142, 256

M Macphail, Dan 319-320 Madman Who Would Be King, The 241 Madrid, Francisco 47 Madrona, Eduardo 287-288 Maestre Laborde, Francisco José (see Conde de Salvatierra de Álava) 37, 232 Makhno, Nestor 135 Makhnovischina (guerrilla army) 135, 151 Malatesta, Grupo Errico (affinity group) 89 Malillosm, Hernández 183 Mallofre, Josep 158 Manent, Joan 175 Mangado, Clemente 26, 41, 149 Manresa Workers’ Coop 162 Manta, Juan de la (‘Juan Plandevila Cucurul’) 163 Manzana, Sgt José 10, 15 Manzano, Alberto 32 Macquart, Gervaise 77 Maqueda, Estanislao 182 Marcelino da Silva 157, 159 March, Juan 203 March Foundation, The 203 Marchis, Manuel 129 Marco, Joaquin 264 Marco Nadal, Enrique 10-11, 95, 199 Marco, Narciso 169 Marcos Bilbao, Pedro 16 ‘Marianet’ (see Vázquez, Mariano) Marín, Blas 173, 223 Marín, González 194 Marín Pastor, Ángel 95, 198 Marín Sánchez, José 290 Marimon, Magi 117 Marquéz Rodríguez, Antoni 303 Marshall, Major (SIS) 15-16 Martí, Guillem 175 Martí, Martín 29 Martí, José 285-286 Martí Verdu, Vicente 303 Martín 285 Martín, Chief Inspector Agapito (Special Brigade) 59, 172, 174 ‘Martín, Armendariz’ (see Antonio Ros) Martín, Antonio 75, 92 Martín, Manuel 36 Martín, Moise 303 Martín, Pablo 309 Martín Villa, Rodolfo 201 Martínez Anido, General Severiano 27, 36, 4243, 47-48, 50-51, 53-54, 58-60, 64, 102-104, 106, 108, 112-113, 115-117, 119, 124-126,

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INDEX 128-129, 133, 135-136, 138-139, 141-143, 147, 156, 162-164, 169, 171-179, 211, 230-235, 241, 245-246, 250, 262, 266-267, 269 Martínez Barrio, Diego 14 Martínez Cabra 142 Martínez Campos, General Arsenio 53 Martínez de Villar 64 Martínez Domingo, Antonio 51, 131 Martínez Esteruelas, Cruz 273 Martínez Fernández, Eugenio 136 Martínez García, Juan 290-291 Martínez, Gregorio (‘El Toto’) 226 Martínez, Inocencio 67-72, 74-77, 79-80, 87-91, 185, 275, 279-280, 268, 275, 280, 313 Martínez, Juan 302 Martínez, Lorenzo 229 Martínez Prieto, Horacio 14, 193, 199, 282 Martínez Valls, Francisco 105, 133 Más, Salvador 29 Más, Valerio 196 Mascarell, Manuel 192 Masdeu, Andreu 133 Massoni, Pere 212 Matenza, Antonio 243 Mateo, Tadeo 32 Mateos, Francisco (‘José Pallardo’) 111 Mateos, Leopoldo 141 Mateu Cusidó, Pedro 37-38, 108-111, 122, 238, 268 Maura y Montaner, Antonio 138, 142, 269 Maurín Joaquin 46, 58, 120, 122, 136-137, 141, 151-152, 223-224 May ’37 (events of) 193, 202 Maybnes (councillor) 142 Mediavilla 52 Medín, Martí 18, 56, 207 Medina, 176 Melis Díaz, Eliseo 85-86, 94-95 Meltzer, Albert 186, 189, 193, 311, 316 Menacho, Benito 103 Mendizábal 239 Mera Sanz, Cipriano 74, 91-92, 94, 195, 272, 284, 302 ‘Metalúrgico’ (action group) 108 Mier Rodríguez, Emiliano 290 Miguel, Alfonso 165, 255 Milans Astray, General 45 Milans del Bosch, General 21-23, 25, 28, 36, 50-51, 64 Millan Mendoza, Joaquín 290 Millan de Prego 163 Minguet, Genaro 56-57, 106, 169 Minué, José 13,14 Miranda, José 111 Miró y Trepat 25, 33, 63 Mixed Commissions 46-47, 56, 76, 145 Mola, Castle of 50, 142, 144, 181

Mola y Vidal, General Emilio 95 Mola, Inspector Pascual 32 Molina Mateo, Antonio 302 Molina Mateo, Juan Manuel (‘Juanel’ 15-16, 87, 95, 189, 196, Monde Libertaire bookshop, Le 301 Monero, Felipe 240 Monte Arruit (fort of) 137, 241 Montejo, José 309 Montilla Ruiz, Bartolomé 290 Montorio, Eulalia 283 Montseny, Federica (‘La Leona’ —‘The Lioness’) 6, 8- 9, 11-14, 16, 70, 76, 85, 88-89, 91, 94-98, 181, 185-204, 271-272, 276-278, 282, 284, 295, 311-316 Montseny, Joan 192 Movimiento Libertario Español (MLE) 6, 8-9, 12, 14, 16, 86, 91-93, 95-96, 187, 189-191, 194-198, 273-274, 280-281, 314. Executive Council of the MLE (Consejo General del Movimiento Libertario) 6, 8, 12, 14, 91, 187, 191, 194-197, 203, 273, 314 Libertarian Movement Liaison Committee 203 Movimiento Popular de Resistencia 302 Moore, Sir John 234 Morchon, Daniel 303 Morral, Mateo 110 Moro, Aldo 93 Moscow protocols 122 Moua, Miguel 38 Movimiento Nacional, El 200 Muñater, Dr 220 Muñiz Alonso, Nicolás 289, 291 Muñoz, Federico Silva 273 Municha Larraona, Auguste 303 Muntadas, Maties (Conde de Santa Maria de Sants) 52 Mur Peiron, Antonio 299 Mussolini, Benito 126, 170, 212, 240, 248, 263, 266 My Man Jeeves 237 MZA (Madrid-Zaragoza) rail company 157, 161

N Nadal, Enrique Marco 95, 199 Narciso 208 Nationaal Arbeids-Secretariaat (NAS) 184 National Defence Council 203 National Directorate (Primo de Rivera) 262 National Liaison Commission, 236-237 ‘Nameless Ones’ (affinity group) 131 Narciso 217 Navarro, Floreál 303 Navarro, Manuel 52 Negrín, Dr Juan 10, 14, 193, 195, 201-202, 282 Nervi 301 Nicolau Fort, Lluis 108-112, 122, 238, 268

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 Nicolau d’Olwer, Luis 59 ‘Nikita’ (Joseph Conrad) 90 Nin, Andrés 46, 108, 115, 119, 122, 151-152, 223-224 Noel, Jacques 303 Ninety Music Professor, The 167 Noguera, Ángel 133 Nontron military prison 98 ‘Nosotros’ (affinity group) 114, 153 Nueva Senda 121, 295, 301

O Obras Completas (Mola) 95 Okhrana (Russian Department for the Protection of Public Security and Order) 281 Oliva 22 Olmo workers’ centre 218 Operación Bienvenida 85, 93-94, 273-274, 276 Operación Galaxia 273 Operation Tora, Tora 93 Operation Warning 293 Opus Dei 69, 272 Orobón Fernández, Valeriano 152 Orozco Gallardo, Francisco 290 Organisation de l’armée secrète (OAS) 92 Organizzazione di Vigilanza Repressione dell’Antifascismo (OVRA) 63-64, 266 Ortega y Gasset, Eduardo 202 Oter del Valle, Det. Chief Inspector Julián (‘Orozco’) 75-76 Our Asturian Cousin 241 OVRA see Organizzazione di Vigilanza Repressione dell’Antifascismo) Oller, Joaquín 243 Oller y Pinyol, Lt Colonel 47, 178 Olwer, Luis Nicolau d’ 59 Ortíz, Major Antonio 16, 192-193, 201-203, 313 Oviedo, Fernández 110

P ‘Pact of Silence’ 86 Padros, Luisa 111 Palanca y Canas, General Carlos 36 Palau, Josep 105 ‘Pallardo, José’ 111 Pallarols, Esteban 204 Pallàs, Paulíno 53-54, 107, 245 Pallás, Paulo 53-54, 59, 107 Palmer, General A Mitchell 140 Palomo Álvarez, Ramón (‘Ramonín’) 86-87, 95, 189, 282, 289 Parraga Ramírez, Juan 290 Pardiña Serrato, Manuel 113 Pareta, Antonio 107 Pareja, Manuel 94-95 Parnales 217-218 Parra, Antonio 101-103

Parti Socialiste Unifié [Unified Socialist Party — PSU] 299 Partido Comunista Español (PCE) — Spanish Communist Party 62-63, 93-94, 111, 120-121, 152, 192 Pascual, Bartolomé 193 Pascual Palacios, José 74, 87, 272, 302 Pascual, Jesús 264-265 Pat O’Leary Network 16 Patronal (Barcelona’s Employers’ Federation) 18, 20, 23-24, 28, 31, 36, 38, 43-44, 47, 64, 139, 143-144, 156, 162, 166, 207, 223, 229, 232, 243, 246, 261, 270 Pavón, Benito 201 Pecunia, Alain 296, 299, 302-303 Peirats, José 94, 96 Peiró, Joan 150, 169, 218, 220, 222, 225, 229, 231, 235, 250-253, 269, 306-307 Pellejero, Florentino 172-173, 175 Penas, Francisco 159 Penon, André 34, 36 Pérez, General Andrés Cassinello 273 Peréz Bernardo, Celedonio 16, 204 Peréz Esprín, José 103 Peris García, Máximo 201 Peréz González, Deogratias 303 Peréz, José (‘El Mula’) 126 Pérez, Rogelio (Barcelona High Court Executioner) 306 Peris, Josep 29 Peris, Julí 101 Pernia Álvarez, Aurelio 201 Perón, Juan 69 ‘Perones, El’ (see Comás y Pagés, Francisco) Pestaña, Ángel 23, 33, 48, 52, 59-62, 95, 115, 145, 151-152, 162-164, 169, 183, 203, 216, 221, 225, 228-229, 231, 235-237, 249, 254, 261, 269, 306-307 Pestaña, Maria 216 Pey, Joan 55-57, 106, 183, 222 Philips, Captain (SIS) 16 Pi, Ricart 104 Picasso Report, The 261, 263 Picos 217 Piera, Simó 23, 215-216 Pijuan, Joaquín 289 Pina, 134 Piña, Inocencio 40-41, 134, 267 Piñar López, Blas 93, 273 Piñon, Camilo 169, 229-230, 235, 250, 253 Pintado Villanueva, Juan 284 Piquer, Hermes 302 Pita, Alejo 59 Plaça del Palau (robbery) 161 Plandevila Cucurul, Juan (‘Juan de la Manta’) 163 Pliever, Theodore 122

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INDEX Poch, Antonio 243 Pollard, Hugh 203 Poli, François 302 Pompeya café 44 Pons, Antoni 37 Pons (pistolero) 229 Ponzán Vidal, Francisco 9, 13, 15-16, 97-98, 198 Porrero, García 29 POUM (Partido Obrero de Unificación Marxista) 95 Predicadores Prison, Los 134, 267 Priest, The 7-8, 13, 89, 272-274, 283, 292-293, 295, 300 Prieto, Indalecio 164, 183 Prim y Prats, General Juan 113 Primo de Rivera, General Miguel 142, 179, 192, 221, 231, 243, 248, 253, 255, 260-267, 305, 309 Principe, Eduardo 56-57 Propaganda Due (Lodge P2) 76 Profintern (see International of Red Unions) Pros, José 193 Protesta, La 102 Publicidad, La 30, 43 Pueblo Nuevo (train robbery) 173 Puig i Cadafalch 142, 256 Pujol (employer) 132 Pujol, Jaime 46-47 Pujoll, Arías Julio 291 Purcet, Juan 35

Q Quemades, Salvador 60 Queró, Victor 157-158 Quesada Márquez, Juan 302 Quimet, 208 Quintanilla, Eleuterio 40, 120 Quintela Bóveda, Eduardo 85-86, 94-95, 98 Quintero Morente, Lt Colonel Federico 93

R Rabada (Libre pistolero) 168 Rafa, Josep 117 Rakhovsky, Peter 281 Ramírez (‘El Pamplonés’) 156 Ramíro Porras, José 290 Ramos, Ángel 303 Ramos, Manuel 157 Ramonín (see Álvarez Palomo, Ramón) Raventós, Salvador 183, 221, 243 Razumov, Mr 90 Recasens, Ramón 157-160 Red Trade Unions, Statutes of 61 Redención 121 Regional Commission for Anarchist Relations, (CRA) 170

Reguengo, Chief Superintendent Vicente 75 Regueral, Lt Colonel Faustino José González 27, 39, 123, 231-232, 241-244, 250 Remiro, Agustin 16 Renseignements Généraux (RG) 7, 16, 63, 71, 79, 89, 281, 299, 312-313 Reus Employers’ Federation 53 ‘Revolutionary Gymnastics’ 253, 256, 303 Revista Blanca, La 192 Rex (see Baron de Koenig) Rhône Poulenc robbery 7 Rio Tinto Company 34, 46, 144-145 Rius, Joan 125 Rius Albert, Juan 143 Rivas, Domenech 104 Roa Justicia, José María 290 Robespierre, Maximilian 64 Roca Gascó, Facundo 192-193 Rocker, Rudolf 152, 210 Ródenas, Armando, 32 Ródenas Dominguez, Progreso (‘El Puni’) 3132, 118 Ródenas, Libertad 32, 118 Ródenas, Ramón 162-164 Ródenas, Volney 31-32 Rodríguez, Sergeant Antonio 260 Roig, Francisco 228 Roig, Vicens 35 Román, José 43 Románin 185 Roman Catholic Church in Spain 206 Romanones, Don Álvaro de Figueroa y TorresSotomayor, Prime Minister and 1st Count of Romanones 28 Romero González, José Romero, Inspector (Special Brigade) 175, 178 Ronceño, Inspector 45 Ros Monero, Antonio (‘Martín Armendariz’) 302 Ros Monero, Matías 302 Ros, Sergeant 109-110 Rosmer, Alfred 62 Roura, Joaquím 42 Rovira, Joan 30 Rubi, Duque de (see General Weyler) Rubinat, Jaume 173 Rüdiger, Helmut 91, 274-275 Ruíz Gutiérrez, Mariano 290 Rusiñol, Joan 239 Russian Revolution (October) 203 Ruíz 26 S Sabaté Llopart, Francisco (‘El Quico’) 7-8, 85, 97, 274, 295 Sabaté Llopart, José 85 Sabaté Llopart, Manuel 85

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 Sabater, Pau 18 Sabater, Victoria (‘Bixto’) 29 SAC (see Sveriges Arbetares Centralorganisation Sakarya (battle of) 267 Sala, Alfons 261 Salamero Bernard, Esteban 249, 260 Salan, Jaime (‘Wilkens’) 121, 137 Salas, Rodríguez 58 Saldadoret,, 183 Sales, Ramón 45, 51-54, 59, 130, 139, 155, 221, 228-230, 240 Sales, Vicens 105-106, 127, 133 Salmerón, Nicolas 51 Salsench, Salvador 129, 133, 136 Salvador Gomez-Talon José 14 Saleri 214, 219 Saleta, Josep (‘El Nano’) 44, 133, 264-265 Salvadoret, 240 Salvatierra y Álava, Conde de 20, 22-23, 28-29, 34, 37-38, 232 San Juan, Miguel 30 Sánchez Fuster, Agustin 301, 303 Sánchez, García 44-45 Sánchez Guerra y Martínez Cabra, José 142143, 149, 163, 176-177, 179, 183 Sánchez Rosas, Ferrán (‘Negre de Gracia’) 117 Sancho, Captain Alejandro 253, 261 Sancho, José 199 Sancho, Manuel 41, 149 Sanjurjo, General José Sanjurjo y Sacanell 253, 260 Sans, María 32, 42, 99-100 Sans Sicart, Juan 311 Santa Catalina (affinity group) 105 Santa Cruz, Marques de 109 Santa Maria de Sants, Conde de (Maties Muntadas) Santamaría, Roque 6, 96, 283, 291-292, 295 Santillán, Juan 309 Santillana, Sergeant 308-309 Santolaria, 41 Sants Rationalist Athenaeum 208 Sanz, Ricardo 165, 170, 237 Saragoyen (lawyer) 125 Saturnino, Juan Elias 126-127 ‘School of Terrorism’ 96 Sebastian, Miguel Vallejo 285-286 Segado, Francisco Peréz 290 Segarra, Roser 126-128, 133 Seguí, Heleni 213-214, 220 Seguí. Salvador (‘El Noi del Sucre’— Sugar Baby) 18-20, 23, 35, 43, 46, 48, 50, 99, 106, 117, 144-146, 152-153, 168-169, 173, 180-183, 207, 211, 216-217, 220-221, 237, 253 Segui, Teresa 213-214, 220 ‘Semana Tragica’ (Tragic Week) 137-139, 269

Serra, Joan (‘El Tero’) 18-19 Servicio Central de Documentación (SECED) 69 Servicio de Evacuación de Refugiados Españoles (SERE) 98, 197, 314 Servicio de Información de la Frontera Nordeste de España (SIFNE) 12 Seseras, José Maria 254 Sicart, Juan Sans 311 SIEP (Servicio de Información Especial Periférica) 9, 97 SIFNE (see Servicio de Información del de la Frontera Nordeste de España) Silvestre, Hernández 103 Silvestre y Pantiga, Manuel Fernández 138, 240 Simón, León 52-53 Simón, Manuel 53, 219, 222, 240 Sindicatos Libres 24, 30, 35-37, 42-46, 50-54, 59, 100, 103, 107, 117-118, 120, 124, 130, 133, 136, 139, 141, 143-144, 153, 155, 162, 206, 213, 217, 219-224, 227, 229-231, 235m 240241, 243, 245, 246, 248, 251-252, 254, 266 Sita Setbon, Nicole 302 Sixth Fleet (US) 93 Sol, El 262 Solà, Segimon 159 Solanas Cavero, Alfredo 290 Soldevilla Romero, Juan, Cardinal Archbishop 42, 123, 147, 208, 229-231, 245-252, 257, 260, 268 Soler, Antonio (‘El Mallorquín) 29-30, 33, 35-36 Soler Ciercoles, Francisco 303 Soler i Domenech (factory) 36 Soler, Manuel 54 Soler, Vicens 175 Solidaridad Internacional Antifascista (SIA) 285 Solidaridad Obrera (forerunner to CNT) 52 Solidaridad Obrera 136, 153, 156, 167, 204, 206, 208-209, 218, 222, 224, 261, 293 Solidaridad de Trabajadores Vascos 296 ‘Solidarios, Los’ 165, 169-171, 224-225, 227, 229, 237, 241, 243, 245-246, 249-254, 306, 308 Solteras brothers 18 Sorel, George 136 Soriano, Gregorio Elías 201 Sos Yagüe, José Luis 302 Souchy, Agustin 62, 210 Sousa, Germinal de 196 Spanish Aid Committee 14 Spanish Communist Party (see Partido Comunista Español - PCE) Spanish Foreign Legion 45 Spanish Socialist Party (PSOE) 62-63, 121 Special Intelligence Service (SIS—MI6) 15-16, 203

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INDEX Spinola, António Sebastião Ribeiro de 273 ‘Spit, The’ 73 Stalingrad 122 Ställmann, Rudolph (see Baron de Koenig) State and Revolution 62 Strafelini, Emilio 267 Suárez, Adolfo 8, 200, 123 Suárez, Ángel Baltasar 69 Suberviela Suberviela Baigor, Gregorio 26, 3940, 154, 226, 241-241, 257, 259, 305 Sveriges Arbetares Centralorganisation (SAC and SAC Central) 9, 11, 14-15, 91-92, 98, 184, 196, 274 Syndicalist Athenaeum 208 T Tabacalera Española, La (wages snatch) 225226 Tablet, The 203 Talens, Manuel (‘El Valencianet’) 174-175 Talion Law 152 ‘Talion’ (urban guerrilla group) 186 Tarrago (father and son) 255 Tarrago, Joan 133, 255 Tarrassa National Savings Bank 264 Tatareau, Commissioner 13, 73, 76, 98 Teatro Cómico del Paral.lel 213 Tejada (Libre pistolero) 130 Tejares, Marquesa de 37 Tejedor, Genaro 175 Tejerina, Vicente 243 Téllez Solà, Antonio 186, 189-191, 195, 199200, 271, 278, 282, 311-312, 315 Terradas, Esteve Terres, Robert 15 Testa, Candido 267 Thénardier 187 Tiempo, El 45 Tierno Galván, Professor Enrique 94 Tierra y Libertad 52, 170 Tierra y Libertad (affinity group) Toledo Nieto, Juan 303 Torralba, Juan 255 Torremocha Arías, Francisco J 285 Torrens i Capdevila, Pere 32, 35, 53 Torrens, Juan Pedro 219, 222 Torres Escartín, Rafael 41, 123, 154, 165-166, 227, 232-234, 243, 250, 257-260, 267-268 Toto, Antonio del (‘El Toto’) 165, 241-242, 257 Tranquilidad, La 45, 235, 237 Travaux Ruraux (Rural Operations) 16 ‘Traza, La’ (The Project’) 261 Trenc Cases, Josep 195 Tribo, Torres 166 Trinxet (employer) 13 Vallares, Manuel Portela (Conde de Bris) 256 Trotsky, Leon 61-62, 120, 122, 135, 139, 154

Tuset, Juan 131 Twain, Mark 7 ‘Twenty-One Conditions of Communist Orthodoxy’ 61

U Ubeda, Salvador 243 Ullastres, Alberto 69 Ulled, Jesús 23 Ulled, José 125 Under Western Eyes 90 Unión Obrera 219 Unión Nacional Española 96 Unión Patriótica 266 Unione Italiana Sindicale (USI) 61-62 Urales, Federico 181 Urtubia Jiménez, Lucio 87 Ussia, Mgr Marcos 13

V Valdés, Fernández 183 Valero, Manuel 100 Valladares, Portela 231 Vallejo, Jesús Valls i Ribot 51 Vandellós Romero, Pedro 54, 99-101, 104-105, 108, 126, 128-132, 143 Vanguardia, La 132 Vázquez, Mariano R (‘Marianet’) 8-10, 16, 188, 193-196, 201-203, 274, 277 Vera de Bidasoa 309, 316 Vera Sorie, Fulgencio (‘Mirete’) 51-54, 240 Verde, Juan 195-196 Verdú, Francisco 159 Veu de Catalunya, La 142, 176 Via Libre (affinity group) 114, 123 Vidal, Ácrata 30, 100 Vidal-Ribas, Emili 34, 125 Vidal-Ribas, Joan 125 Vidiella, Rafael 216 Villacampa, Florentino Estallo 286 Villalonga trial 131 Vilajoan 163 Villalta, José 43-44 Villanueva, José Maria 194, 315-316 Villanueva, Juan 100 Villena, Francisco 56-57, 100, 102 Villena, Rabada 163 Vinyals, Isidre 163-164 Vivancos, Miguel García 165, 202, 258, 267 Vives, Tomás 30 Voltaire 307-308 ‘Voluntad’ (group) 11

W Weyler, General Valeriano (Duque de Rubi ) 28, 36

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THE CHRONICLES OF FARQUHAR MCHARG: PISTOLEROS! 3 Wodehouse, P.G., 237 Workers’ Commissions (see Comisiones Obreras)

X Xifort 137

Y Yarza, José 41

Z Zabarain 123-124 Zadig the Babylonian 307 Zamora, Adela 159 Zaragoza, Antonio 44 Zaragoza Tram Company 149 Zinoviev, Gregory 61 Zulueta 257 Zubizarreta 11

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