The Spanish Civil War

by Hugh Thomas

  There were some who afterwards wondered whether Negrín’s action in summoning officers known to be pessimistic did not indicate that the Prime Minister was already himself pessimistic. Why too did he fix the government at the small undistinguished manufacturing town of Elda, twenty miles inland from Alicante, so far from Madrid, if he wanted to go on fighting? It was suspiciously near to the coast in case escape should be necessary. The communist high command, now almost openly under the chairmanship of Togliatti, had, on the other hand, set up their headquarters nearby, in the beautiful palm forest at Elche, and the same question might have been asked of them too.2 It seems likely that, while Casado, Matallana and the other officers in Madrid were conspiring with anarchists and the politicians in Madrid, Negrín had reached the conclusion that a temporary dictatorship under himself with communist support was necessary to ensure the continuance of the war. Casado, Matallana, Escobar and other officers who were not in agreement with the prime minister would be promoted to positions of no importance.

  The situation in Madrid was indeed now bleak, as Casado had said. Negrín perhaps did not quite realize how bad it was. The Quaker Commission for the Assistance of Child Refugees reported that the food supply was such that even if the existing level were maintained, it could not support life for more than two or three months more. There was no heating, hot water, medicine nor surgical dressings. These conditions defeated such international help as was being mobilized. ‘Food for Spain’ funds were being gathered in England. Gifts were made by several governments. The governments of Canada, Norway and Denmark bought surplus food and gave it to Spain. Belgium gave about £10,000 worth of food, Sweden £75,000 (in addition to an earlier £50,000). The French government agreed to send 45,000 tons of flour to the republic, though not as a gift. The United States sent 600,000 barrels of flour through the Red Cross. But this cargo was shunted about the Mediterranean from one port to another before being finally delivered. The shipowners also attempted to make the bill for transport of the flour as large as possible, justifying themselves by saying that, each time a port was named for delivery, it fell to the nationalists. Thus the hungry children of the republic waited three months after the arrival of the US flour at Le Havre. The Quaker commission, meantime, continued to give aid to territory conquered by the nationalists, though they insisted on strict conditions for it.1 The nearer the republic drew to its end, however, the greater international interest there was in its fate—especially in the United States. Madrid was a strange, silent city whose inhabitants knew that, if the war were to continue, their hour of trial had come round again. Newspapers continued a bland optimism which no one felt, as did the radio services, which continued under Negrín’s direction.

  Under cover of secrecy, Casado was continuing his negotiations with Burgos. His plan was to arrest and hand over to Franco many communist and other leaders, and he even apologized that he would not be able to prevent the flight of some.2 Colonel Ungría at Burgos received a full description of Negrín’s meeting at Los Llanos. Two colonels on Casado’s staff, Garijo and Muedra, the first a Fifth Columnist, also contemplated handing over the army in the central zone, without more ado.

  On 13 February Franco, meantime, concentrated the mind of those inclined to work for surrender by promulgating a decree applying to all guilty of ‘subversive activities’ from October 1934 until July 1936, as well as to those who since had ‘opposed the nationalist government in fact or by vexatious passivity’. This gave a broad licence for vengeance. The issue of reprisals was the most important one for the republic. If guarantees against them had been given, the republic would have made peace a year before. Azcárate was still pressing the British government to put Negrín’s last three points as an armistice to Franco. Otherwise, the republicans were saying, Franco would be responsible for a continuation of the bloodbath. On 17 February, Azcárate and Álvarez del Vayo, still in Paris, telegraphed to Negrín to suggest that freedom from reprisals should be made the only condition of peace, and to allow them to put this to Lord Halifax for transmission to Franco. Halifax had proposed this simple condition to Azcárate. Due to telegraphic delays (attributed subsequently by Azcárate and Álvarez del Vayo to the wilful interference of Casado), Negrín’s affirmative reply did not reach Paris until 25 February. Halifax, meantime, on 22 February, had given up waiting for the agreement to his proposal. He set in motion an unconditional recognition of the nationalist government.1 Chamberlain had three days earlier confided to his diary: ‘I think we ought to be able to establish excellent relations with Franco, who seems “well disposed to us”’.2 Long before that, on 18 February, Franco had ended all ideas of a conditional peace, whether put by Britain, or France or by any republican. ‘The nationalists have won,’ he declared, ‘the republicans must, therefore, surrender without conditions.’ Franco had stated in November 1938 that there could be no question of an amnesty: ‘Those who are amnestied are demoralized’. He believed in ‘redemption through the penalty of labour’. Those who were not executed would have to ‘re-educate’ themselves by work in labour camps.

  On 20 February, Casado was visited at the Alameda de Osuna by an agent of Franco’s intelligence, Colonel José Centaño de la Paz, who had been, throughout the war, chief of a precision instrument factory belonging to the republican army at Aranjuez, but also, since 1938, head of a spy ring, known as ‘Lucero Verde’. He and Manuel Guitián, also an agent of Burgos, called on Casado and were received with enthusiasm; Casado made exaggerated promises as to what he could do, saying he could hand over the Army of the Centre by 25 February. He promised to go to Negrín and demand his resignation. Centaño then produced a written guarantee for the lives of career officers in the republican army who had committed no crime and who laid down their arms. ‘Magnificent, magnificent!’ said Casado. Centaño had reported to Burgos favourably of Casado before and had spoken of him as an anti-communist second to none.1 During another discussion, on 22 February, Casado left Centaño the impression that he could realize his plan of surrender ‘with complete success and with all security’: these words being written in capitals in the report. Casado, meantime, begged the nationalist high command to delay any offensive.2

  Franco dispatched on the 22nd a telegram to Neville Chamberlain assuring him that his own patriotism, his honour as a gentleman, and his known generosity were the finest guarantees for a just peace. He later announced that the tribunals to be set up after the republican surrender would deal only with criminals—‘reprisals being alien to the nationalist movement’.3 This bland remark, along with the telegram to Chamberlain, was considered by Britain to be the only condition obtainable for her recognition of the nationalist government.

  In the meantime, Casado banned the publication of the communist paper Mundo Obrero on 23 February, because of a manifesto due to appear in it which attacked Largo Caballero for leaving Spain, and which urged continued resistance. Uribe, the communist minister of agriculture, in Madrid, protested. Casado still refused to permit publication. The following day, the manifesto was circulated by hand. Casado recalled it so far as was possible. Negrín returned to Madrid on 24 February, and Casado tried to persuade him that the right course was capitulation. He was unsuccessful, as he must surely have realized would be the case. He had clearly promised to Franco more than he could give. Franco himself disliked the idea of ‘treating’ with any new council of defence which might include a politician such as Besteiro. He was anyway receiving reports from such officers as General Jurado, now in France, and even General Matallana, still in overall command of the Armies of the Centre, as to where the resistance would be least if an attack were to be launched.1

  On 26 February, Senator Bérard completed his diplomatic mission in Burgos. All the nationalist demands were accepted. France and nationalist Spain would live together as good neighbours, cooperate in Morocco, and prevent all activities directed against the security of each other. The French government undertook to return all Spanish property taken to France against t
he wishes of its true owners. This would include £8 million in gold kept in Mont de Marsan as security for a loan made in 1931. The Bank of France had refused to return this gold, although the loan had been repaid. All other republican possessions in France, all battle, merchant and fishing vessels, works of art, vehicles and documents, were also to be sent to Spain. In return, the nationalists agreed to receive a French ambassador at Burgos.

  Thus the official recognition by France and Britain could occur on 27 February. Chamberlain read out Franco’s telegram on 22 February to the House of Commons. Both the Liberal and Labour parties opposed recognition and forced a debate. Attlee condemned Chamberlain’s devious way of agreeing the act of recognition with Daladier before telling the House of Commons.

  We see in this action [he concluded] a gross betrayal of democracy, the consummation of two and a half years of the hypocritical pretence of non-intervention and a connivance all the time at aggression. And this is only one step further in the downward march of His Majesty’s government in which at every stage they do not sell, but give away, the permanent interest of this country. They do not do anything to build up peace or stop war, but merely announce to the whole world that anyone who is out to use force can always be sure that he will have a friend in the British Prime Minister.

  Chamberlain answered this by saying that General Franco had given pledges of mercy and that, short of war, Britain could never enforce any conditions on him. There followed, as often in the course of the Spanish war, a heated exchange between Sir Henry Page Croft, a conservative supporter of General Franco (it was he who, a year before, had described Franco publicly as ‘a gallant christian gentleman’),1 and Ellen Wilkinson, a fervent friend of the republic. Eden supported the government from the back benches, saying that to delay recognition might prolong the war. Yet other conservative back-benchers, such as Vyvyan Adams, deplored unconditional recognition. The communist Gallacher suggested that the Prime Minister should be impeached.2

  Azcárate paid a final melancholy visit to Lord Halifax to ask Britain to try still to secure some guarantee of moderation by Franco as a condition of recognition.3 Russia denounced the falsity of ‘the capitalist policy of capitulation before the aggressor’ but took no other action. No act of recognition of Franco was prepared in Washington, but most other countries now followed the lead of Britain and France.

  Back in Madrid, the anarchists were holding a meeting. Instructions from their secretary general, Vázquez, in France, to back any effort to end the war were accepted. There was some discussion of the idea that Negrín was contemplating a coup d’état within the state. The CNT resolved to resist such an idea, which could lead to a communist dictatorship. The CNT now was, however, little more than a pressure group without clear goals save to oppose the communists.4 In Burgos, a new message was received from Madrid saying that a ‘junta of liquidation’ of the war would be set up the next day, and that Besteiro and Colonel Ruiz-Fornells, chief of staff of the Army of Estremadura, would go to any aerodrome that the nationalists specified in order to arrange the surrender. Franco replied that he still would not treat with any civilians. There could only be unconditional surrender, except for the guarantees already promised to the army officers. He would not treat with Besteiro. One or two officers could come if they desired.1 Franco was not going to offer the republic the luxury of an honourable peace; nor did he want those who wished to escape to be able to do so. This delayed Casado’s coup d’état for several days.

  The following day, 28 February, after the news of the recognition of Franco by Britain and France, Azaña, in Paris, resigned from the presidency of the republic. The permanent committee of the Cortes assembled at La Pérouse, a famous restaurant on the Quai des Grands Augustins, and Martínez Barrio as speaker of the Cortes assumed Azaña’s duties, as provided under the constitution of 1931. But he had no intention of returning to Spain. The civil governor of Madrid, José Gómez Ossorio, meantime, told Casado that he had received orders for his relief. Negrín, however, assured Casado, by telephone, that he had not ordered his relief, and summoned him to Elda for a meeting on 2 March, with Matallana. The two officers drove down the 260 miles in the morning. Negrín proposed the reorganization of the general staff. Matallana and Casado would become heads of the ‘general’ and of the ‘central general’ staff respectively. Both officers repeated their arguments against further resistance. Casado, with the communists Modesto and Cordón, were to be named generals, while two officers on Casado’s staff, Muedra and Garijo, were to become respectively sub-secretary of the army and adjutant to Miaja. All these appointments had been agreed at a meeting of the cabinet during the night of 28 February.

  Casado and Matallana argued against reorganization. After the meeting, they drove north to Valencia. There they met Miaja, General Menéndez and Colonel Ruiz-Fornells. Casado described to these officers his determination to rebel against the government and to make peace. All promised support, but warned against the communist party. Nevertheless, Casado made a similar approach to Hidalgo de Cisneros, whom he knew to be a communist, the next day at lunch outside Madrid. Presumably he supposed that the air leader’s loyalty to his old friends was greater than that to his new comrades. ‘Only we generals can get Spain out of the war’, said Casado, who, according to Hidalgo de Cisneros, had already given orders for his new insignia as a general to be placed on his uniform. ‘I give you my word,’ he added, ‘that I can get better terms from Franco than Negrín ever can. I can even assure you that they will respect our ranks.’ Hidalgo asked how this was and Casado said that the British representative in Madrid (presumably Denys Cowan) had arranged everything with Franco. Hidalgo thought that Casado was romancing, but told Casado to go and see Negrín.1 Hidalgo de Cisneros told Negrín of this interview. But Negrín did nothing. He faced the new challenge with temporary but fatal passivity.2

  At much the same hour, Admiral Buiza at Cartagena summoned the commanders of the ships and the political commissars. He told them that a coup d’état against Negrín was being prepared and that a national council of defence would be formed, representing the armed forces, all trade unions and political parties. No one at the meeting objected, and Buiza concluded that agreement had been achieved. Twenty-four hours later, Paulino Gómez Saez, the socialist minister of the interior, arrived to tell the naval commanders that the government had been told what Buiza had said the previous day, and that it was determined to prevail. In Madrid, Casado continued plotting and received the support of most of the non-communist political colonels, and of the non-communist political parties. He prevented the circulation of the Diario Oficial of 3 March, which named the changes in command decided on by Negrín. General Martínez Cabrera (military governor of Madrid), Vicente Girauta (director-general of security) and in particular Angel Pedrero García, chief of the SIM in Madrid, also pledged their support. The SIM’s surprising support for Casado was of great importance. Casado told Cipriano Mera to make ready to take over the central army in his place. A telegram arrived from Negrín summoning Casado to another conference at Elda. Casado telephoned Matallana, who was with Negrín, that he would not go because he feared arrest. Negrín was told that Casado’s health prevented him from making so long a road journey again. Negrín sent his private aeroplane to fetch him. Meanwhile, all the communist leaders who had arrived from France clustered together at Elda, expecting to be given work by Negrín; Cordón was to be secretary general of defence, Jesús Monzón his secretary, Francisco Galán to command the naval base at Cartagena; and the military governors of the coastal provinces of Valencia, Murcia and Alicante were to be succeeded by Lister, Etelvino Vega and Tagüeña.

  The next day, 5 March, saw the culmination of the plots in Madrid. In the morning, the head of Barajas airport informed Casado that Negrín’s Douglas aircraft had landed. Casado gave orders that the pilot should be sent home. At noon, Negrín once more telephoned to Casado. The colonel said that his health made it impossible to leave Madrid. Negrín, brushing this asid
e, said that he needed Casado immediately, regardless of health. Another aeroplane would arrive at six in the evening to take several cabinet ministers, who were at Madrid, to Elda. Casado, said Negrín, should travel with them. Casado answered that he would ‘arrange matters’ with the ministers.

  Negrín’s nomination of ‘Paco’ Galán to command the naval base at Cartagena now fired strange events in that port (some fifty miles away from the government). First, General Bernal, the military governor till then, passively agreed to hand over to Galán.1 The officers of the artillery, under Colonel Gerardo Armentía, came out to protest. There was similar indignation in the fleet. Admiral Buiza and Commissar-General Alonso contemplated attacking the city.2 Next, a Fifth Column of falangists emerged, headed by Colonel Arturo Espá, of the coastal artillery regiment. Supported by mobs wishing to show enthusiasm for the victors of the civil war, they surrounded the artillery barracks. A retired officer living in the city, General Rafael Barrionuevo, proclaimed himself military governor, in Franco’s name. A regiment of marines joined the falangists, and, together, they proceeded to take over the naval radio station. From thence, they sent demands for reinforcements to Cádiz. Colonel Armentía surrendered to the Falange, and shortly afterwards killed himself.