by Hugh Thomas
The communist party later alleged that the crisis had been caused by the agents of Franco in the CNT and, above all, the POUM. Documents were said to have been found in hotels in Barcelona proving it. It has admittedly since become known that Franco told Faupel, the German ambassador at Salamanca, on 7 May, that he had thirteen agents in Barcelona. One of them had reported that ‘the tension between the communists and anarchists was so great that he could guarantee to cause fighting to break out there’. Franco said that ‘he had intended not to use this plan until he began an offensive in Catalonia but, since the republicans had attacked at Teruel1 to relieve the Basques, he had judged the present moment right for the outbreak of disorders in Barcelona. The agent had succeeded, within some days of receiving such instructions, in having street-fighting started by three or four persons.’2 But spies are boastful, and that one may have attributed the spontaneous outbreak of the fighting to his own intrigues. Franco must also have been anxious to suggest the efficacy of his intelligence service to the Germans.
In the meantime, CNT representatives visited Tarradellas, and Ayguadé. The two councillors promised that the police would leave the Telefónica. The anarchists went on to demand the resignations of both Rodríguez Salas and Ayguadé. That was refused. By nightfall, therefore, Barcelona was a city at war. The PSUC and the government controlled Barcelona to the east of the Rambla. The anarchists controlled the area to the west. The suburbs were all with the CNT. In the centre of the city, where union and political headquarters were near to one another in requisitioned buildings and hotels, machine-guns were placed on roofs, and firing began along the housetops. All cars were shot at by both sides. Yet at the Telefónica, a truce had been agreed, and the telephone exchange itself, the nerve of the civil war from first to last, was working. The police on the first floor even sent sandwiches up to the CNT above. Several police cars, however, were blown up by grenades dropped from roofs. Any journey by car was dangerous.3 What worsened the situation was that the CNT and FAI were no longer coherent; the revolutionary torch had been seized by their extremist followers, or by the anarchist youth.1 In the evening, the POUM leaders proposed to the anarchist leaders in Barcelona an alliance against communism and the government; the anarchists refused.2
On 4 May, Barcelona was silent, save for machine-gun and rifle fire. Shops and houses were barricaded. Bands of armed anarchists attacked assault guard, republican guard, or government buildings. These were followed by communist or government counter-attacks. The atmosphere was that of 19 July 1936. The angles of fire were almost the same as they had been on that epic day. Once again, the police fired against their late comrades in arms, in July the soldiers, now the anarchists. In the meantime, the political leaders of the anarchists, García Oliver and Federica Montseny, broadcast an appeal to their followers to lay down arms and return to work. Jacinto Toryho, editor of Solidaridad Obrera, did the same. The two anarchist ministers then travelled to Barcelona, with Mariano Vázquez, secretary of the national committee of the CNT, together with Pascual Tomás and Carlos Hernández Zancajo, of the UGT executive committee. All wished to avoid a fight against the communists. Federica Montseny explained later that the news of the riots had caught her and the other anarchist ministers completely by surprise.3 Nor had Largo Caballero any wish to use force against the anarchists. Units of the anarchists’ 26th Division (previously the Durruti Column), under Gregorio Jover, had assembled at Barbastro to march on Barcelona. On hearing García Oliver’s speech, they stayed where they were. The nearby 28th Division, the old Ascaso Column, however, and perhaps also the POUM Division under Rovira, were only restrained from marching on Madrid by the action of the head of the air force on the Aragon front, the communist Major Alfonso Reyes, who threatened to bomb the column if it marched on.4 The spirit of Romance lived on, however, in Barcelona: ‘Before renouncing the struggle against fascism, we will die in the trenches; before renouncing the revolution, we will die on the barricades.’1 Thus the anarchist youth.
Inside the Generalidad, Tarradellas, backed by Companys, continued to refuse the anarchists’ demands for the resignation of Rodríguez Salas and Ayguadé. But, on 5 May, a solution was reached. The Catalan government resigned, being replaced by a ‘provisional council’, in which Ayguadé did not figure.2 The anarchists, the Esquerra, the PSUC and the rabassaires would each be represented. But confused firing, nevertheless, continued, raking along the empty broad streets, and bringing death to those who ventured out of their refuges. Two leading Italian anarchist intellectuals, Camillo Berneri and his collaborator, Barbieri, were mysteriously murdered.3 The Friends of Durruti issued a pamphlet announcing that a revolutionary junta had been formed. All responsible for the attack on the Telefónica would be shot. The national guard had to be disarmed while the POUM, having ‘established itself beside the workers’, had to be given back a place in the government. La Batalla republished this manifesto without comment. The atmosphere of alarm was heightened by the arrival of British destroyers in the port which the POUM feared, for no reason, might begin a bombardment.4 Actually, the British feared that the anarchists were ‘getting the upper hand … and evacuation of foreigners was being considered’.5 On this day, there was also fighting in Tarragona and other cities along the coast.1 During the night, Companys and Largo Caballero had a telephone conversation, in the course of which Companys accepted the Prime Minister’s offer of help to establish order.2
On 6 May, a truce proclaimed by the anarchists was observed all morning. But appeals to return to work were disregarded, out of fear, not from obtuseness. In the afternoon, fighting began again. Police and Esquerra volunteers attacked anarchist buildings. A number of civil guards were blown up in a cinema by 75-millimetre artillery, brought by members of the libertarian youth from the coast. Antonio Sesé, the communist general-secretary of the Catalan UGT, and a member of the new provisional council of the Generalidad, was killed on his way to take up his appointment (perhaps accidentally, since all moving cars were shot at, though possibly as a reprisal for the death of the anarchist Domingo Ascaso). In the evening, two republican destroyers, followed by the battleship Jaime I, arrived with armed men from Valencia. The reluctance of Largo Caballero to act in the crisis had been overcome by Prieto. Four thousand assault guards, led by Colonel Emilio Torres, an anarchist sympathizer (and sometime military adviser to the Tierra y Libertad Column), also arrived from Valencia by road, having overcome risings at Tarragona and Reus on the way, with some bloodshed: local anarchists had blown up road and railway bridges to prevent the passage of the column.3 On 7 May, the CNT appealed for a return to ‘normality’. The presence of assault guards from Valencia in the streets ensured that this occurred. On 8 May, the CNT broadcast: ‘Away with the barricades! Every citizen his paving stone! Back to normality!’ The Barcelona riots were over. A contemporary press estimate of the casualties was 500 killed and 1,000 wounded.4 The Generalidad was again reconstituted, on the basis of just one representative each from the UGT (the communist Vidiella), the CNT (Valerio Mas), and the Esquerra (once again Tarradellas). Some responsible for deaths were later tried—but only those in Tarragona, and they did not receive death sentences, only terms of imprisonment.1
Throughout these anxious days, President Azaña had remained in his palace in Barcelona, undisturbed by the fighting though apprehensive. For months, he wrote in his diary, he had done nothing save count the minutes until his (invariably gloomy) predictions were fulfilled. He summed up these days in Barcelona as
revolutionary hysteria passing from words to deeds, in order to murder and steal; ineptitude of the rulers, immorality, cowardice, calumnies, shooting by one trade unionist or another, presumption by foreigners, insolence of separatists, disloyalty, pretence, empty talk by those who had failed, exploitation of the war to make money, negative approach to those desiring to organize an army, paralysis of the war operations, little puppet states [gobiernitos] of petty bosses in Puigcerdá, La Seo, Lérida and so on. Companys talks idiocies abo
ut giving battle to the anarchists, but he has not the means.2
Prieto—the only minister who tried to do anything to protect Azaña—often telephoned, offering escort to a warship in the harbour. But that would have demanded vigorous physical action on Azaña’s part, even a risky journey out of doors. ‘Don Manuel’, wrote Zugazagoitia uncharitably, ‘prefers four days of intermittent fears and uncertainty to four minutes of resolution.’ During these four days, he nevertheless finished La Velada de Benicarló (The Soirée at Benicarló), a brilliant but pessimistic dialogue on the reasons for, and character of, the civil war, which he had begun to write two weeks before the rising.3
The ‘May Days’ of Barcelona showed that the anarchists could not be counted upon to respond as one to any situation: a gulf stretched between their ministers, busy trying to win the war, and the youth movement. Such previously powerful influences as the cripple Escorza had lost their control over their followers. The crisis showed that there would be no truce between the POUM and the communists. The Generalidad, the communists, and the central government had shown themselves ready to act together, by force if necessary, against ‘extremists’. Finally, May in Barcelona marked the end of the revolution. Henceforward, it was the republican state which was at war with the nationalist state, rather than revolution against rebellion. The new director of public order in Barcelona, José Echevarría Novoa, soon restored normality to most of the prisons and court proceedings, doing away with the arbitrariness which had characterized the anarchist control over much of the judicial system. Unfortunately, however, the communists were thereby able to embark more easily on their limited, but ruthless, crusade against the POUM and other Marxist heretics.
The ‘May Days’ led, too, to the final stage of the communist attack upon Largo Caballero. The relationship between the Prime Minister and the communists had been made worse than ever by a dispute on strategy. Several republican officers of the high command proposed to test their new army by launching an attack in Estremadura, towards Peñarroya and Mérida. They rightly believed that the nationalists had few resources in that region, and that they might thereby divide the enemy territory into two.1 Largo Caballero supported the idea. The communists opposed it. The Russian chief adviser, General ‘Grigorovich’, whose real name was Shtern and who had replaced Berzin,2 together with his colleague, the adviser to the Army of the Centre, General Kulik, proposed instead striking down from the republican positions along the Corunna road towards the little town of Brunete, cutting off the nationalists in the Casa de Campo and the University City.3 Miaja, under communist influence, declared his disapproval of the Estremadura plan.4 Finally, when the republican officers proved recalcitrant, the Russian advisers threatened to deny the use of their aircraft for the proposed offensive.1 Nevertheless, Largo convinced himself that the plan which he wanted would go ahead.
Another difficulty between the Prime Minister and the cabinet was the former’s determination to go ahead with his old idea of arousing Spanish Morocco against Franco by ‘distributing money among some prominent Moors’.2
This military quarrel merged into the larger communist feud with Largo Caballero. Galarza, the weak minister of the interior but an enemy of the communists, was denounced by them for permitting the Barcelona crisis—for failing ‘to see the open preparations for a counter-revolutionary putsch’.3 (There existed neither ‘preparations’ nor a ‘counter-revolutionary putsch’, and Galarza had no jurisdiction in Barcelona over internal order, which was in the hands of the Catalan counsellor, and friend of Comorera, Artemio Ayguadé.) On 11 May, the POUM’s Valencian paper Adelante compared the government, because of its repressive measures, to one led by Gil Robles. Inter-city telephone calls were then forbidden—a measure often used in Spanish crises in internal order from 1909 onwards—and a stricter press censorship introduced. The Esquerra and the communists in Barcelona began to campaign for the ‘municipalization’ of urban transport, which meant destroying the tram, bus, and metro collectives. On 13 May, the government once again ordered the surrender of all arms, except those held by the regular army, within seventy-two hours. The Barcelona civil guards, PSUC, and assault guards began to round up arms. Finally, also on 13 May, at a cabinet meeting in Valencia, Jesús Hernández and Uribe proposed the punishment of those responsible for the May Days, the POUM and CNT, as well as the cancellation of the Estremadura offensive.1 Largo Caballero called the communists ‘liars and calumniators’ and said that he was, above all, a worker, who could not dissolve a brotherhood of fellow workers, unless there were proofs against them. The anarchist members of the cabinet supported the Prime Minister and argued that the riots in Barcelona had been provoked by the ‘non-revolutionary parties’. The two communists thereupon walked out of the meeting. Largo Caballero tried to continue but the communists were soon followed by Giral, Irujo, Prieto, Alvarez del Vayo, and Negrín. Prieto said that the government could not continue without the communists. Largo Caballero was left in the cabinet room with two of his old friends, Galarza and Anastasio de Gracia, and four new ones—the anarchist ministers. The anarchists suggested to Largo that the government continue without the communists and the right-wing socialists, but the old Prime Minister refused. The cabinet crisis was thus open.
Largo went to Azaña, who was delighted to receive his resignation. But he did not accept it immediately. Some time that day, Hernández, on behalf of the communists, proposed to Negrín, the finance minister, that he should become Prime Minister. Negrín answered that he would do so if his party accepted the idea, adding that he was unknown and not popular. Hernández airily said that popularity could be created. If there were one thing which the communist party could do well, he added, it was propaganda. Negrín protested that he was not a communist, and Hernández answered that that was ‘all the better’.2 At the same time, Prieto also apparently desired Negrín to be Premier, since Negrín had been for many years one of his friends.3 The next day, 14 May, Largo Caballero repeated his resignation to Azaña. The President asked the Prime Minister to remain in office until after the planned military operation—either at Brunete or in Estremadura. Largo Caballero agreed and began to plan a cabinet without the communists.
Supported by the executive committee of the UGT, he approached the anarchists with the idea of forming a purely trade-union cabinet, of CNT and UGT. The way to the pure syndicalist state seemed thus to be opened. At this point, however, Negrín, Alvarez del Vayo, and Prieto told Largo Caballero that the government could not do without the communists because of the need for Russian aid. The communists were now a power, too, in their own right. The right-wing of the socialists, inspired by Prieto and directed by the secretary-general of its executive, Ramón Lamoneda (at that time, a philo-communist), achieved what they had been wanting for many months: the removal of Largo Caballero. Since Azaña’s Left republican party shared the views of the Prietistas, it was obvious that Largo Caballero did not have enough support for maintaining a government.1
The communist party did admittedly send a message to Largo Caballero naming their conditions for support of a government headed by him. All problems of war would be dealt with by a supreme council. The Prime Minister would cease to be war minister. All the ministers would have to please all parties supporting the government (Galarza would therefore have to be dismissed). A chief of staff would plan the war. The political commissars would be responsible only to the war commissariat, though that body would be responsible to the war minister and war council. These conditions were rejected by Largo Caballero. He hoped to fight the communists and to use the ministry of war, purged, as a base. He was fully supported by his old anarchist enemies. Azaña, however, sought a compromise. Prieto had always seemed to him mercurial and too controversial, since his enmity with Largo Caballero was so longstanding, so personal and so well known. Negrín, whom the communists had let it be known that they would support, stood out as the obvious choice. The communists thought Prieto unsuitable on the ground that they would be unable to infl
uence him as they thought that they could influence Negrín.
Juan Negrín came from a prosperous middle-class family of the Canary Isles. He was forty-eight. The family owned much of the outskirts of Las Palmas, and were religious: Negrín’s mother had lived many years at Lourdes, and his only brother was a monk. Trained as a doctor in Germany, he had been a pupil of the Nobel Prize winner for medicine Ramón y Cajal, one of the most remarkable of Spaniards, whom he succeeded, when still young, as professor of physiology at the University of Madrid. He had had much to do with the planning of the new University City. Married to a Russian, the language in his household was French. He also spoke both English and German. He was thus thoroughly a European. He did not join a political party, and had had little interest in politics, till the last years of Primo de Rivera’s dictatorship, when he became a socialist. Though he was a deputy under the republic, he did not take an active part in politics till the civil war. Almost the only political act which was remembered of him during the republic was his vote in 1932, in his party group, against a reprieve for General Sanjurjo.1
Despite this lack of political experience, Negrín was named minister of finance by Largo Caballero in September 1936. His enterprise in the university recommended him for this arduous post. He was also known to be indefatigable and generous (he had personally helped to finance the library of the Medical School and its laboratory). In July and August 1936, he had helped many people escape from the revolutionary checas. He disliked Largo Caballero and had done his best to avoid cabinet meetings over which he presided. At that time, he was a follower of Prieto.2 In the ministry of finance, he was a successful administrator. He handled the complicated questions of paying for Russian aid with skill, and established good relations with the Russian economic attaché, the Pole Stashevsky. But he was a man without a personal following, and without apparent political prejudices, though the anarchists feared him as a vigorous enemy of collectivization: he had refused credit for collectivist projects suggested by anarchist ministers. The anarchists also accused him of building up the customs guards (carabineers) as a private army under the ministry of finance. This, however, had been done by Negrín to ensure that the government received its proper taxes: it was a force now headed by the chemist Dr Rafael Méndez, a colleague at the university. Negrín was a man of the grande bourgeoisie, and a defender of private property, even of capitalism. That fact, combined with his efficiency and his academic background, seemed likely to recommend him to Britain and France and caused him to be accepted, without question, by many disparate groups, as the new leader of the republic. The politically experienced politicians of the republic (by no means only the communists) thought it would be comparatively easy to influence Negrín. He had failed to prevent inflation in the first nine months of the war, but he had been competent in his ministry, unlike the disorderly Alvarez del Vayo.