Hello and welcome to the history page. We will pick up the thread of our
narrative this week with the aftermath of the October Revolution.
Readers will remember from our last instalment that his proletarian
revolt stands out as an unmistakable foreshadowing of the civil war that
was soon to erupt. Of the many elements common to both events, the
three factors most worth of note are, of course, the leadership and
victory of General Franco; the extreme ruthlessness of the ‘African
Guard’, i.e. the legion of soldiers and officials who had participated
in the Moroccan Conflict (1909-1927) and who would later comprise the
vanguard of the National offensive in the civil war; and, finally, the
ability of the working classes to effectively organize a war effort with
the maintenance of supply lines, the provision of medical assistance,
etc.
Although successful in suppressing the revolution, the incident left the
governing coalition shaken and sharply divided. Members of CEDA
advocated the maximum punishment allowable by law against the mutineers:
the death penalty for the uprising’s instigators and leaders, solitary
confinement for lesser heads and incarceration for all other
participants, accomplices and known sympathizers. Lerroux’s Radical
Party, on the other hand, was reluctant to add anymore animosity and
bloodshed to an already imbrued situation. Even the conservative
presidential figurehead, Alcalá Zamora, reminded CEDA of the
amnesty recently granted to the conspirators of the 1932 military coup,
arguing that the same leniency should now be granted to the Asturian
miners.
Moral Considerations
Most
of us, sitting comfortably in our homes and enjoying innumerable civil
rights which more often than not we take for granted, may ask the
question: Why did Spanish workers continually rise up in arms,
overriding the legal institutions that existed - albeit tenuously - for
their defence. To answer that question, I offer a pertinent quote from
Barbara Tuchman’s historical opus, A Distant Mirror. Although writing
about the French peasantry in the 13th century, Tuchman’s
observations are entirely apropos to the Spanish proletariat in the 20th
century - or, for that matter, to any oppressed peoples at any stage of
history. Pondering the causes of social upheaval, Tuchman in turn cites
the words of Philippe de Beaumanoir who, in 1280-3, wrote: “… there have
been acts of violence because the poor will not suffer this [oppression]
but know not how to obtain their right except by rising and seizing it
for themselves.”
Understanding all too well the plight of Spain’s oppressed, the
splintered republican left re-banded under a programme of amnesty for
the imprisoned revolutionaries, deeming that whatever debt they owed
society for their insurgence, it had already been paid by virtue of the
thousands of dead, wounded, lynched and tortured workers struck down by
the ‘African Guard’. Naturally, this legion was anxious to conceal from
public scrutiny the brutality that had occurred during and after the
revolution. To ensure that knowledge of these atrocities would not be
disseminated, Luis de Sirval, a journalist who published a candid and
incriminating account of the revolution, was killed by one of the
legionnaires, effectively terrorizing the press into silence.
Scandal Discredits Lerroux
At
the internal level of government, CEDA rose in influence after
the revolution, being awarded two more ministerial portfolios in
addition to the three they already held. The most important of these was
the Ministry of Defence under CEDA party leader, Gil Robles, a
great admirer of Franco who wasted no time in appointing the soon-to-be
dictator as Field Marshal of the Spanish Army.
The
ruling coalition remained in power throughout the following year, but
would soon be brought down by a corruption scandal in the Radical Party.
In September of 1935, a Dutch businessman, David Strauss, set up a
newly-devised type of roulette in San Sebastián and Palma de Majorca. No
sooner did the gaming wheels begin to operate, however, than they were
closed down. At this, Strauss, who had quietly promised a percentage of
the earnings in exchange for his operating license, approached the
Republic’s presidential figurehead, Alcalá Zamora, to complain. Having
no knowledge of these secret arrangements, Alcalá Zamora began to look
into the matter only to discover that the principle accomplices to the
extralegal gambling concession were none other than Lerroux (leader of
parliament), Lerroux’s son, as well as certain ministers and other
high-ranking government officials, all members of the Radical Party.
CEDA Power Ploy Spurned
In
view of the scandal, Gil Robles felt sure his hour had come and asked
Alcalá Zamora to appoint him as the new leader of parliament - a post he
could now execute without the encumbrance of a coalition with Lerroux’s
suddenly extinct Radical Party. Much to the minister’s chagrin, Alcalá
Zamora declined on his proposal, unconvinced of the former’s
trustworthiness. It was rumoured that Gil Robles planned to amend the
constitution in such a way as to rescind many of the civil liberties
therein guaranteed. Moreover, Gil Robles was known for his indifference
to the republican form of government, an ideal which Alcalá Zamora,
despite his conservatism, cherished above all else. On these grounds,
the republican patriarch passed over Gil Robles in favour of ‘a man of
his confidence’, Manuel Portela Valladares. Like his appointer, the
chosen statesman had been politically active during the days of the
monarchy but had only recently re-entered public life. The primary
function of his cameo appearance in republican government was to prepare
the general elections that would vote in a new parliament.
Cowardice Discredits Gil Robles
Left
to stew in his own juices, Gil Robles toyed with the idea of
overthrowing the Republic - or rather having the Republic overthrown for
him. To this end he tentatively began to correspond with various
generals as to their sentiments on this matter. One of these furtive
exchanges, carried out between Gil Robles and General Fanjul (one of
Franco’s future collaborators), ran thusly:
“If you give me the order, this very night I will take to the streets of
Madrid with the garrisons of the capital. General Varela feels the same
as I do.”
Reluctant to assume responsibility for the proposed coup, Gil Robles
answered back:
“If the army, grouped around its natural leaders, believes it must seize
power in order to save the spirit of the Constitution, I will not put up
the slightest obstacle.”
In
other words, Gil Robles bounced the ball back into the army’s court,
refusing to stand up as the official instigator of the power grab. At
this impasse, Franco informed Gil Robles that ideological unanimity
within the army was not a given, for which reason, without a clear order
issuing from the Ministry of Defence, military cohesion could not be
counted on to pull off the coup. Fully aware of the dire implications
should this assault on legitimate authority fail, Gil Robles vacillated
timorously and was finally pressured into resigning from his post. His
unwillingness to give the necessary go-ahead was viewed by many army
officials and political rightists, including members of his own party,
as a sign of cowardice and his career was effectively extinguished at
this juncture.
Closing
On 4th
January 1936 parliament was dissolved marking the natural death of the
Black Biennium. New elections were held on 16th February, the
results of which gave a parliamentary majority to the political left,
again under the presidency of Manuel Azaña. As soon as the leftist
victory became known, in darkest secrecy Franco began to weave the
complex web machinations that would overthrow the Republic, this time
with no holds barred. Join us next week as the plot thickens. |