CHAPTER XIV. The spanish gold road to Russia

By late September 1936, the euphoria of July 19 seemed like a distant memory. The revolution hadn’t been defeated but it was under siege, between Moscow and Madrid. Madrid controlled the national treasury and Moscow, thanks to the nonintervention policy, became the custodian of the Spanish Republic. And the horrors of war were a reality. Everywhere Franco’s troops went they used terror as a psychological weapon. In many places, people fought only to save their lives. The tragedy of Andalusia and Extremadura brought that home. And while the war spread, ascending from the south toward Madrid and descending in the north, the government’s only concern seemed to be creating a strong state that could reverse the workers’ conquests. Largo Caballero’s recently formed government accomplished the latest counterrevolutionary act when it abandoned Irún, thus isolating the north by land. [628]

The militias in Irún were ready to spill their last drop of blood defending the town, which was so important for the revolution, but lacked the arms and ammunition necessary to do so. It is impossible to understand why they didn’t receive them from Bilbao, given that Spain’s best armament factories were there. Nonetheless, a group of workers from Irún went to Madrid to demand help but left with empty hands and many promises. Of course you win war with steel and lead, not promises. The same group then went to Barcelona and the Catalan war industry gave them several hundred rifles and machine-guns, which they shipped to Irún on a route that passed through France. French authorities, scrupulously attentive to the nonintervention policy, seized the trucks and stopped the armaments from entering Irún. In response, from its dwindling supply of ammunition, the CCAMC set aside thirty thousand cartridges for Irún, which it prepared to send by air, in order to prevent another confiscation of war materiel. They urgently requested a plane from the Madrid government, which promised to send them a Douglas. The plane never arrived. The boxes of ammunition sat in a pile in Barcelona, while the residents of Irún fired their last round, burned down the town, and fled to Hendaya. [629] San Sebastián fell on September 15. General Mola’s troops now threatened the north as a whole. One might imagine that the government had sacrificed the north to defend the capital and, although that wouldn’t have been a good strategy, it would have at least mitigated government culpability for the failure. But that wasn’t the case. Talavera fell into Yagüe’s hands and his Regulars found an open path to Madrid. Republican General Asensio thought the battle was already over and assumed that the capital would be in rebel hands shortly.

The militias were also retreating above Madrid. They battled courageously, but had to give ground. In fact, Franco could have easily occupied the city, but that didn’t interest him for political reasons at the time. He still hadn’t formed the Burgos Junta, which would be a vital step toward seizing national power. He preferred to occupy the Toledo Fortress, which the Nationalist soldier José Moscardó would defend against loyalists with the sword that the reactionary newspaper L’Echo de Paris had awarded him for his “bravery.” [630] Taking the Toledo Fortress was a more political than military action, but General Franco understood that “war isn’t won on the battlefield, but in the chancelleries,” as someone once wrote. While the rebels continued changing Spain’s geography in their favor, the Republican government’s only goal was to crush the revolution by attacking Barcelona, its heart. The revolution was in deep crisis there, and the divide between the grassroots and the leadership had increased dramatically. The path that the CNT decided to follow on July 20 took it gigantic leaps toward revolutionary defeat. Something new appeared in the CNT, as if by spontaneous generation: bureaucratism in the leading bodies and the subservience of its key men (for the sake of “organizational responsibility.”) [631]

The CNT and FAI’s Revolutionary Committees held on as well as they could. They represented the movement’s rank and file, although they were also paralyzed by the problem of the war. Furthermore, leading militants sympathetic to these Committees were now implicated in positions of responsibility and simply hoped that a coherent response would emerge from one of the organization’s regular assemblies. Others, fighting in Aragón, focused exclusively on taking Huesca and Zaragoza, thinking that once they had done so they could “stop the concessions, confront the counterrevolutionaries, and proclaim libertarian communism.” [632] Meanwhile, CNT and FAI Committees, acting on behalf of the grassroots and making themselves into “realists,” accepted the political game. They did this not to expand the revolution, but to preserve the power that they had concentrated in their hands. They committed their first counterrevolutionary act when they agreed to dissolve the Central Committee of Anti-Fascist Militias so that some of their men could become ministers in the Generalitat on September 26, 1936. The rank and file reacted against this outrage, but the most significant militants, including García Oliver, Aurelio Fernández, Severino Campos, José Xena, and Marcos Alcón accepted it reluctantly, which made them complicit in the betrayal. The ground was growing increasingly shaky under the CNT’s feet.

Durruti led six thousand men in Aragón who would have followed him to Barcelona to crush the counterrevolutionaries. But he wasn’t fighting for power. What he wanted was revolutionary victory; a fully self-managing society made up of free men. He took the most difficult route and he knew it. But he had been an anarchist all his life and wasn’t going to stop being one now. [633] He intended to push the revolution as far as possible and overwhelm the counterrevolution with revolutionary advances. A revolutionary blow would follow every counterrevolutionary attack.

Durruti was reflecting on these issues when García Oliver called to tell him the good news: Pierre Besnard had made contact with arms dealers who were ready to sell Spain the weapons it needed. Durruti had to come to Barcelona immediately so that they could finalize the deal.

He arrived in Barcelona several hours later, on the night of September 28. García Oliver and Santillán were euphoric: they were finally going to have enough arms to win Zaragoza and Huesca for the revolution.

They couldn’t afford to miss this opportunity. Thus far, all of Catalonia’s attempts to secure arms through the Madrid government—whether led by Giral or Largo Caballero—had ended in failure. Their emissaries returned with promises, but never access to the requisite currency, which was sitting in the Bank of Spain. [634] Barcelona’s war industry produced much less than it could, because its machinery was old and the region lacked sufficient raw material. They told Madrid that its machines had to be updated, but the government did nothing. Clearly Madrid would never give the workers the means that they needed to assure revolutionary victory; Catalonia would only receive resources if it delayed the revolution until after the war. That was the trap. The CNT committees fell into it when they dissolved the CCAMC and joined the Generalitat, but the workers refused to take that route and were not willing to give up their control over the workplaces. The problem was extremely complicated, although both Santillán and García Oliver believed that Largo Caballero would purchase the weapons being offered, assuming that he didn’t prefer Franco’s victory. They knew that the government would do everything it could to stop the arms from reaching Barcelona, but that was another matter that they could address later. The important thing, Durruti’s two friends insisted, was that the government buys the weapons.

“And we think that you, as a fighter and representative of the Aragón front, should go with Pierre Besnard to Madrid. Your presence will be decisive.” [635]

Durruti was not convinced: Largo Caballero could agree to everything and then later go back on his word. He thought that the time for “half-measures” was over: either Largo Caballero was for the revolution or against it. In the former case, the government would have to clearly explain its policy to the workers, so that they could make up their own minds about its actions.

Or, in the latter case, there was no point in talking, because Durruti wasn’t going to betray the revolution. As always, they abandoned the debate when it reached that point, while waiting for the next CNT meeting and then... Durruti was fed up with so many “thens”...

The idea of robbing the Bank of Spain arose in this context. Santillán writes:

Would ours be the first war lost because of a shortage of arms when there was enough money in the national treasury to buy them? ....

The plan was to take what belonged to us from the treasury in the Bank of Spain. We couldn’t leave the treasury to a government that was getting everything wrong and losing the war. Would we fail to buy arms after the robbery? At least we would get raw materials and machines for our war industry. We could make the weapons ourselves. With very few accomplices, we plotted to move at least some of the Bank of Spain’s gold to Catalonia.

We knew that we would have to use force. There were around three thousand trusted men in Madrid and we arranged all the details of transporting the gold in special trains. We had very little time, but if the plan was well executed, part of the gold would have already left for Catalonia before the government could take preventative measures. This would be the best guarantee that the war could start on a new path.[636]

Who were these three thousand men that Santillán mentions? They were members of the Tierra y Libertad anarchist column, which had been put together in a different way than the others. Its members had been specially selected and all belonged to Catalan anarchist groups. When the column was assembled, the situation in Madrid demanded their deployment there. Its purpose was to defend the revolution and they had to be prepared to respond immediately to any government attempt to crush it. The column discussed the national treasury and developed plans that they could put into practice at once. [637]

Waiting for Besnard was now less important than carrying out the “Operation Bank of Spain.” Durruti was able to fly to Madrid that very night thanks to André Malraux, who happened to be in the Prat del Llobregat airfield. Durruti was traveling without an official pass and thus it was difficult for him to find someone to take him. He bumped into Malraux, who fortunately agreed to do so. That was the first time that the two men met. [638]

Santillán also flew to Madrid, but he had official documents and thus no problem finding a pilot to transport him. In Barcelona, García Oliver had to attend to Pierre Besnard’s arrival and make the necessary presentations at the Generalitat. Did García Oliver know about Santillán and Durruti’s plan? He claims that he did not in a private letter to us. We have no reason to doubt him and therefore correct the assertion that we made in the French edition of this biography. Besnard describes the developments:

I arrived in Barcelona and García Oliver introduced me to the Generalitat ministers. I told them about the opportunity to buy arms for the Spanish Republic.... Two representatives from the arms consortium came to Barcelona the following day and corroborated my statements.... Lluís Companys called Largo Caballero to inform him about the matter. The latter indicated that he needed to see us right away and stressed that Generalitat ministers and I should accompany the representatives.[639]

Regarding the robbery of the Bank of Spain, Santillán explains:

When it was time to act, the instigators of the plan did not want to bear responsibility for a deed that would have such great historical consequences. The idea was communicated to the CNT National Committee and also some of the best-known comrades. Our friends shivered in horror; the principle argument that they made against the project, which was going to be carried out at one moment or another, was that it would only increase the prevailing animosity toward Catalonia. What could we do? It would be impossible to work against our own organizations as well and so we had to give up the idea. The gold left Madrid a few weeks later,[640] although it didn’t go to Catalonia but to Russia. More than five hundred tons fell into Stalin’s hands, and helped lose our war and reinforce the global counterrevolution. [The italics are ours.][641]

Besnard continues:

Largo Caballero received us as soon as we arrived in Madrid. After a brief conversation, in which Durruti reminded the Prime Minister of his obligations, he agreed to raise the matter during the Cabinet meeting.

The Cabinet decided that afternoon to purchase 800 million pesetas worth of war materiel. They doubled the amount the next day, with the understanding that a third of the purchase would go to Catalonia and Aragón.

Caballero’s Chief of Staff gave the Spanish Embassy in Paris the instructions necessary to conclude the purchase quickly. A list of materiel to buy was drawn up on October 3 in the Navy Ministry, in the presence of Durruti, the sellers, and myself.

The contract had immediate repercussions.... The Russian ambassador in Madrid called Durruti and me at 3:00 am on October 4 at the Gran Vía Hotel and said he wanted to see us immediately. We declined the invitation, since we had nothing to discuss with him. We left for Barcelona the next morning.[642]

The local press reported on Durruti’s visit to the Spanish capital two days later. CNT published an interview with him, which we will reproduce:

Comrade Durruti Speaks

We make the war and the revolution at the same time. Militiamen are fighting for the conquest of the land, the factories, bread, and culture... the pickax and the shovel are as important as the rifle. Comrades, we will win the war!

Picture of a guerrilla

Durruti was in Madrid. We shook his scarred and strong proletarian hand. We listened to his sincere remarks, in which one can hear the bravery of a lion, the perspicacity of a veteran militant, and the cheerful sparks of youth. He has always been a legendary combatant, a steely fighter; indeed, his natural habitat is the rough and difficult struggle. His hour is ringing in Spain and he had to step forth, with all he has and everything he is worth, in the tragic panorama of the present war.

He was among us for a day. Strong, tall, and burly; weather-beaten by the winds on the Aragón front; victory already shines in his eyes. He is hopeful, and his visit brings us tremendous optimism. With his leather coat and mountaineer’s cap, he is the perfect image of a revolutionary guerrilla.

But Durruti—we should note—is nothing like Pancho Villa. The Mexican adventurer fought for the sake of fighting, made war without knowing why or for what, and lacked a political or social program. Durruti is an anarchist in combat, with a clear sociological vision and a powerful revolutionary impulse that makes him far superior to Villa. The former was a warrior, with his old and brutal soul, whereas our comrade is a revolutionary, with his spirit open to tomorrow, enlightened and eager for the best that life has to offer.

Deported yesterday...

Durruti leads thousands of comrades in Aragón and with them he has won a long series of anti-fascist victories. His Column is the model of organization and we have put all our hopes in it. Today our comrade is one of the stars of the war against fascism, although we cannot help but recall that those who have demonstrated their inability to defend the Republic deported him to Villa Cisneros four years ago. We are living in a time of the rectification of errors, when the false coin of empty men disappears from social circulation. While the masses don’t think of Casares Quiroga warmly, they drape Francisco Ascaso’s name with heroism and Durruti’s incites the hope of the Spanish proletariat—especially in Zaragoza which, under the horror of fascist executions, is awaiting the hour of popular justice.

Durruti came to Madrid to attend to questions of extraordinary importance for the war and he achieved his goals to a great extent. When we have defeated fascism and can speak without reserve, the people will know the value of this extremely rapid and effective visit, thanks to which our operations on many fronts will soon improve dramatically.

The offensive on Madrid

We took the opportunity of his visit to ask our comrade about various aspects of the present struggle. With respect to the fronts of the Center, he told us the following:

“It doesn’t take much common sense to see what the enemy is doing. It’s focusing all its attention on attacking Madrid, although that doesn’t mean that its situation throughout the country has improved. The opposite is true. Catalonia and Levante are putting more pressure on the Aragón front daily, and the fascists know that whatever they do, no matter how hard they try, Huesca, Zaragoza, and Teruel will soon fall into our hands. Once that happens, they’ve lost the war. Those three cities are extremely important from a strategic point of view. When we win them, and it’s certain that we will, that will be the end of the enemy front, from Calatayud to Burgos, and they’ll run from the siege of Sigüenza, just like they fled the Sierra offensive.

“For our part, we can mobilize an army of more than 100,000 men.

And there’s the situation in Oviedo. We’ll clean the fascists out of Asturias within several days: the comrades there, who fought so bravely in October ‘34, know what to do with Galicia and Castilla. And think of Granada and Córdoba, which our people are about to capture. That’s how the war is going. So, given all that, the enemy would be stupid not to think of saving itself by taking Madrid. Of course! It’s intoxicated by dreams of seizing the Spanish capital, but it will break apart on the fronts of the Center. And it needs to withdraw troops from other fronts to carry out that desperate attack. The resistance in Madrid, combined with our offensives elsewhere, will ruin it. It’s that simple.”

Fortifications

“You don’t fight a war with words, but with fortifications. The pickax and the shovel are as important as the rifle. I can’t say it often enough. As usual there are plenty of rearguard slackers and freeloaders in Madrid, but we have to mobilize everyone and must conserve every drop of gasoline. Our principle strength in Aragón lay in the fact that we buttress all our advances, however small, by immediately constructing trenches and parapets. Our militiamen know how to set up their battlefield and understand that not retreating is the best response to any assault. The survival instinct is very powerful, but it’s not true that it causes you to lose battles. We fight for life and apply the survival instinct to the fighting itself. The comrades in my Column don’t budge when the enemy attacks, thanks to the survival instinct. We can only achieve that with fortifications.

“So, in response to your questions about the fronts of the Center, I insist that it’s absolutely necessary that you open a web of trenches, parapets, and wire fences; that you build fortifications; that everyone in Madrid lives for the war and fights to defend themselves. If that occurs, we can be certain that the fascist’s maneuvers that concern you will almost help us, because the enemy will uselessly invest resources here that it needs to resist our attacks elsewhere.”

We are revolutionaries

“What can you tell us about your Column?”

“I’m pleased with it. My people have everything they need and when they fight, they function like a perfect machine. I don’t mean to imply that they’re dehumanized. Nothing of the sort. Our comrades on the front know why and for what they’re fighting. They’re revolutionaries and don’t wage war for hollow slogans, or some more or less promising laws, but for the conquest of the land, the factories, the workshops, the means of transport, bread, and culture... They know that their lives depend on victory.

“Furthermore, and I think circumstances demand this, we’re making the war and the revolution at the same time. We’re not only taking revolutionary steps in the rearguard, in Barcelona, but right up to the line of fire. Every town we conquer begins to transform itself in a revolutionary way. That’s the best part of the campaign. It’s exciting! Sometimes, when I’m alone, I reflect on what we’re doing and that’s when I feel my responsibility most deeply. The defeat of my column would be horrifying. It couldn’t just retreat like a typical army. We would have to take with us all the inhabitants of all the places that we’ve passed through. Absolutely everyone! From the frontlines to Barcelona, there are only fighters on the path we’ve followed. Everyone works for the war and the revolution. That’s our strength.

On Discipline

We come to the question of the moment: discipline.

“Man! I’m very happy you brought this up. People talk a lot about the topic but few hit the nail on the head. For me, discipline is nothing more than respect for your own responsibility and that of others. I’m against the discipline of the barracks, which only leads to stultification, hate, and automatism. But I also can’t accept—indeed the necessities of war make it impossible—the so-called liberty that cowards turn to when they want to duck out of something. Our organization, the CNT, has the best discipline, and that’s what enables the militants to trust the comrades occupying the posts in the Committees. They obey and carry out the organization’s decisions. People have to obey the delegates in times of war; otherwise it would be impossible to undertake any operation. If people disagree with them, there are meetings where they can suggest their replacement.

“I’ve seen all the tricks of the Great War in my Column: the dying mother, the pregnant compañera, the sick child, the swollen face, the bad eyes... I have a magnificent health team. Anyone caught lying: a double shift with the pick and mattock! Discouraging letters from home? To the garbage! When someone wants to return home, claiming that a volunteer can come and go, he must first hear my thoughts on the matter. After all, we rely on his strength. Afterwards, we’ll let him leave, but only after we’ve taken his weapon—it belongs to the column—and he’ll have to go on foot too, because the cars also serve the war effort. It almost never comes to this. The militiaman’s self-esteem quickly surfaces and, as a rule, with an attitude of “No one will look down on me, not even the leader of the Column!” He returns to the battlefield, ready to fight heroically.

“Frankly, I’m happy with the comrades that follow me. I suppose that they’re happy with me too. Nothing is lacking. Female comrades can spend two days at the front; after that, they go to the rearguard... The newspapers arrive daily, the food is excellent, there are abundant books, and lectures arouse the comrades’ revolutionary spirit during free time. The leisure time isn’t easy. You have to occupy yourself with something: principally, being at war, it’s with making fortifications. What time is it? One in the morning, right? Well, now, behind their sandbags, my lions on the Aragón front are digging new trenches with the greatest enthusiasm...”

Durruti smiles as he thinks of his comrades in the battle. Even in Madrid he feels the excitement of his faraway Column.

“They don’t know that I’m here,” he says, as if speaking to himself. He looks up and stares into the dark Madrid night. He gathers himself quickly and stands up, firm and smiling; under the visor of his leather cap, the penetrating gaze of a revolutionary guerrilla shines with optimism. He puts his rough proletarian hands on our shoulders and, when the interview is over, says:

“We’re going to win this war, comrades!”[643]