To commemorate the 90th anniversary of the Civil War, José Ángel Mañas recreates in Zenda, day by day in this section, what happened in 1936, perhaps the most pivotal year in all of Spain’s recent history.
Saturday, September 12, 1936: The Syndicalist Party of Pestaña
Come in, comrade. Take a seat.
Ángel Pestaña welcomed him in the offices of his party. He looked more faded and sad than usual. But a faint smile hovered on his lips. His eyes did not hide the satisfaction of receiving the labor leader who had invited him to give the talk at the Ateneo Libertario de Carabanchel, a month earlier.
Ángel Navarrete had called to say he needed to talk with him. Pestaña was pleased to see an old FAÍ member approaching positions with a figure as denigrated as him in the current CNT.
—Here is my headquarters. You see it is more modest than the Confederation’s offices… Sit down, you’ll speak.
The offices of the Syndicalist Party were on San Bernardo Street, not far from the university. The Syndicalist Party was a small party deeply committed to the Popular Front since Pestaña, after traveling through Europe, clearly saw the danger of fascism. Antifascism was for him a priority that outweighed union politics and that marked his interventions in Congress, of little repercussion except when he denounced the uselessness of parliamentarism and how detached from reality the deputies were. All that was happening seemed to justify him.
—Hello, comrade —began Ángel Navarrete—. I’m worried about the current situation and that lack of control, especially at night, in the central neighborhoods, with raids and seizures everywhere. Trucks loaded with furniture are seen moving from side to side. Queues at the shows, at the brothels, and an epidemic of venereal diseases, with women even in the barracks and in the militias. And I’m not saying it’s bad, but it distracts.
—I would say that it’s one of the war’s more positive consequences. But go on —nodded Pestaña.
—Everything is chaos. The militiamen go to the front as if they were going on a excursion. They return whenever they please and we all devote ourselves to playing at soldiers, distributing stars and military ranks to show off in the cafes. The columns are a madhouse where everyone takes orders from his party. The press lies, fabricates victories and talks as if the war were a thousand kilometers away from Madrid, when we have the Army of Africa at the very doors, and it keeps calling for international solidarity, as if the solution would come from outside.
Pestaña shrugged.
—What you just said, comrade, is what I tell myself all the time. I only hope that the missteps open our eyes, make us realize the danger we’re in, and that fear leads us to change our conduct. The people can be like that. In the European war, the French lived happily until the Battle of the Marne, when Paris was in danger. Here, so far, we’ve done everything wrong. It is so and it’s not wise to deny it. Nevertheless, there is time to rectify. And there is no option but to keep doing the best we can and to speak out loud about how we think things should be done, even if we aren’t heard and it brings us some trouble.
—I’m not that optimistic. But I didn’t come here for that… —Ángel Navarrete looked at Pestaña—. I want to join your party. I want to collaborate with the Syndicalist Party, but without leaving the CNT… For security reasons and because inside I can be more useful.
All the entries of 1936 Day by Day
Interview with José Ángel Mañas about 1936 Day by Day