Part 3, Chapter 22 : Durruti’s Funeral

CHAPTER XXII. Durruti’s funeral

While Durruti slowly died in room fifteen of the Hotel Ritz, the CNT militants in Madrid continued their meeting on Reforma Agraria Street. Ariel didn’t dare send the news to Solidaridad Obrera in Barcelona before the meeting’s decisions were publicly revealed. “To disclose Durruti’s death without examining the consequences would have been flippant at the time.” He was afraid of undermining the fighters’ morale. Franco’s troops had redoubled their efforts and any change in the Republican side could have disastrous results for the defense of Madrid. [738] Cipriano Mera reached Valencia around 6:00 am and found that the building housing the CNT National Committee was empty at that early hour. He bumped into a young man there and explained that he urgently needed to see García Oliver and Federica Montseny. The youth told him that they were staying with most of the other government ministers at the Hotel Metropolitano.

When he learned that Durruti had been seriously wounded, García Oliver lamented the sad but unsurprising event. He had always opposed the CNT’s decision to send Durruti to Madrid and thought it much more important for him to stay in Aragón. The news was crushing for Federica Montseny: she felt responsible because she had made the greatest effort to get him to go to the capital.

The telephone rang. The caller told García Oliver that Durruti died at 4:00 am. They had expected the news, but it still dazed all of them. They wondered what was going to happen when the CNT fighters found out about his demise. Cipriano Mera writes:

The three of us finally left the hotel for the National Committee. We met with Marianet, who had become the General Secretary a few days ago. He told us that Val had already called from Madrid and told him about Durruti’s death. He then looked at all of us; wondering who should replace our lost comrade.... Various names were mentioned: Ortiz, Jover, Ricardo Sanz. It was finally decided that the latter would be the best person to take the reigns of the remnants of the Column in Madrid and continue fighting there. Manzana would go to Aragón and lead those forces. Personally, I wasn’t happy with the decision. I thought García Oliver was the person who should take Durruti’s position.[739]

Ariel writes:

Durruti’s corpse rested in a square, white room on a small iron bed, wrapped in a sheet. A cushion supported his head. The light of the new day entered through the glass balcony doors, which opened to the plaza holding the obelisk for the heroes of May 2.... It was all so fitting for the new popular hero. Some horse chestnut trees let the last leaves of autumnal gold fall. Victoriano Macho, the famed Spanish sculptor, arrived at 8:00 am to make Durruti’s death mask. Other artists from the Alianza Intelectual came with him.... Macho asked to remove the sheet covering his body so that he could work better: “A Hercules, a real Hercules!” Victoriano Macho burst out when he saw Durruti’s nude cadaver.[740]

Ricardo Sanz writes:

I was in Figueras at noon on November 20 with Commander Ramos de Iglesias [on a mission to inspect the coastal front]. The table was set. We were going to eat... García Oliver called and gave me the terrible news: “Get the car and return to Barcelona immediately. Madrid just told us that Durruti was killed in the University City. The Defense Council met and we decided that you’ll take his place. Don’t waste time, come at once.” I was distraught when I entered the dinning room. They were all sitting around the table, waiting for me so we could eat. I gave them the tragic information.... Minutes later we took off for Barcelona at top speed. I didn’t learn anything new at the Ministry of Defense. They made me leader of the Catalan troops in Madrid. And García Oliver gave me the following task: “Find out what happened and keep me apprized of everything.”[741]

Ariel writes:

At night, they took Durruti’s body to the National Sub-Committee building and put it in a mahogany coffin.

They brought along Durruti’s suitcase, the only luggage that he carried with him. It was old and small. What did it contain? It was almost empty, except for a dirty change of clothes and a shaving kit. That’s all it held. That was the entirety of Durruti’s baggage.

This fighter’s austerity was evident there. Two days earlier, he had asked the CNT National Sub-Committee for one hundred pesetas to attend to some minor necessities.... He, who risked his life to provide the Confederation with large sums of money, relinquished all to be an example of meticulousness. That suitcase was a treasure of dignity.

He had renounced everything except victory. But for him victory was a matter of one’s daily conduct. That is the luminous wake that he left behind, the memory of a lifetime of daily struggle....

A group of men from Durruti’s forces made the most moving visit. They wore leather caps, jackets, and corduroy trousers. Their rifles were still warm from being fired. They had left the front for a moment. All the fighters from his unit wanted to see their dead comrade, whom they loved so much and who had demonstrated his loyalty and courage so many times. But that was impossible. They couldn’t abandon the front.... Disconsolate tears glistened in their eyes.... In the silence, in the deep emotion of their silence ... they promised from the bottom of their hearts to continue the struggle until true freedom is victorious... until the triumph of the proletariat.[742]

Ricardo Sanz:

I left for Madrid at dawn on November 21. At the entrance to Valencia, near the San Miguel de los Reyes prison, I ran into the entourage of vehicles taking Durruti’s corpse to Barcelona.

I stopped for a moment, to get some details about what had happened and I questioned eyewitnesses who had been with Durruti. I then continued on to Madrid.

I arrived at sunset. There was great disorder everywhere. No one could believe that Durruti was dead.

Everyone thought he couldn’t die. Anything but that could happen. It didn’t matter if he was sunk into the earth. It was the same thing as Madrid’s last cat perishing: it was impossible. There was no way to accept that this time it was Durruti’s heart that had been grazed by an enemy bullet. “The communists murdered him,” some said. “They shot him from a balcony,” others added. “Only his enemies could have killed him,” all agreed. Talk like that showed that no one thought that Durruti could have died from a bullet fired from the fascist trenches. [743]

The group escorting Durruti’s body to Barcelona arrived just after midnight on November 22. The Vía Layetana and the area surrounding the CNT-FAI building were impassable from that moment until the morning of November 23, when his funeral occurred.

The funeral took place in the beginning of the next day. The bullet that killed Durruti had clearly struck the city of Barcelona in its heart as well. It is estimated that one of every four or five Barcelona residents marched behind the coffin, not counting those lining the streets, in the windows, on the rooftops, and even in the trees along the Ramblas. Parties and unions from every tendency convened their members and the flags of all the anti-fascist organizations flew alongside the anarchists, above this human sea. It was grandiose, sublime, and extravagant. The crowd moved forward without being led. There had been neither orders nor prior organization, but everything happened anyway. The scene was incredible.

The burial was scheduled for 10:00 and yet by 9:00 it was already impossible to get to the Anarchist Regional Committee building. No one had thought to clear a path for the procession. Groups came from everywhere. Those from the factories passed each other, intermixed, and blocked the way.

In the center, the cavalry detachment and motorized troops there to precede the coffin were hemmed in. Cars bearing wreaths were stopped everywhere, unable to go forward or backward. It was only with tremendous effort that the ministers could be taken to the casket.

At 10:30, covered with a black and red flag, militiamen from the Durruti Column carried his body out of the anarchist’s building on their shoulders. The crowd raised their fists for the final salute. They sang the anarchist hymn Sons of the People. It was a powerful moment.

Inadvertently, two musical groups had been invited; one played quietly, the other very loudly, and neither managed to retain the same rhythm. The motorcycles revved their engines, the automobiles honked their horns, the militia leaders blew their whistles, and the coffin bearers couldn’t take a step.

It was impossible to form the funeral procession. The musical bands played again and the crowd sang the same hymn once more; neither the bands nor the people paid heed to one another and the sound blended into a music without melody. The fists were still raised. The music and the salutes finally stopped. From then on, one could only hear the noise of the crowd, in whose center lay Durruti, resting on his comrades’ shoulders.

It took at least half an hour to clear the street so that the procession could set off. It required several hours to reach the Plaza de Cataluña, which is only blocks away. The cavalry men found their own way to the Plaza, each one individually. The musicians, who more or less got lost, tried to regroup there. The cars, stopped in the opposite direction, went backwards. Autos carrying wreaths drove through side streets and tried to position themselves as if they were in the cavalcade. Everyone shouted and yelled.

No, it wasn’t a royal funeral. It was a popular funeral. Nothing was ordered; everything was spontaneous and improvised. It was an anarchist funeral and therein lay its majesty! It was strange at times, but always magnificent and conveyed a rare and somber greatness.

The speakers delivered their funeral orations at the foot of the Christopher Columbus statue, not far from where Ascaso, his companion in death, fought and fell at his side on July 19.

Oliver, the only surviving member of the group of three friends, spoke as a mate, comrade, and the Spanish Republic’s Minister of Justice. “In these anguished hours,” he said, “the government of the revolution salutes Durruti and all those who have fallen in the struggle against fascism. In his compañera, it pays homage to all the women who cry at the loss of a loved one; in Durruti’s daughter, all the children whose parents have perished. We salute all those who fight on the front and who will continue fighting until victory.” The Russian consul spoke afterwards and ended his speech in Catalan, exclaiming: “Death to fascism!” Companys, the President of the Generalitat, spoke last: “Comrades,” he said, “forward, forward!”

It had been assumed that people would disperse after the speeches and that only a small group of friends would accompany the coffin to the cemetery, but it was impossible to follow the program devised beforehand. The crowd didn’t disband but, instead, occupied the cemetery, blocking the path to the tomb. The thousands of wreaths obstructing the cemetery’s walkways made the approach even more difficult.

Night fell. It began to rain torrentially. The cemetery turned into a field of mud, drowning the flowers. At the last moment, they decided to postpone the interment and the coffin bearers made a half turn in front of the tomb and carried their load to the mortuary.

They buried Durruti the next day. He will rest once and for all in the mausoleum that will be constructed for him and Ascaso. It will be a site of pilgrimage for those who feel the death of their heroes without mourning them, who honor them without that sentimentalism that we call piety.[744]

Martínez Bande writes: “On November 23, 1936, a very significant meeting took place in Leganés, which Generalísimo [Franco] presided over and Generals Mola, Saliquet, and Varela, as well as the leaders of their General Staffs, attended. They made the extremely important decision to give up the frontal attack on Madrid, thus changing the course and fate of the war....” [745] That same day the national and international press reported on the funeral services held for the anarchist, for the outlaw that Durruti had been his entire life.

Kaminski accurately noted: “The proletarian demonstration that accompanied Durruti’s body was, along with Lenin’s burial, one of the most important worker demonstrations in the history of the working class. More than a half million people were there, although its greatness lay not in the physical presence of the crowd but in the deep emotion that Durruti’s death elicited throughout revolutionary Spain.”

El Frente, the publication of the Durruti Column, concludes the article that it published on November 23, 1936 by saying “history and legend will be his august heralds.” Indeed, since news of Durruti’s demise first circulated, a legend began to emerge that still exists to this day. For the popular imagination, Durruti’s death did not reflect his historical magnitude. And, like at other times during his adventurous existence, that imagination wove a different story that seemed more consistent with the man who embodied so many of their aspirations. Ruta, the Libertarian Youth’s magazine, said: “Durruti, the fighter who never forgot the workshop; Durruti, the leader of the Column that spurned honors and stars; Durruti, the man of the people who lived for the people... he was a powerful inspiration for us, the anarchist youth.”

El Frente Libertario, the newspaper of the Confederal Militias, cited Durruti’s final words as a “shout of courage”: “Brothers, forward for the revolution!” Adding: “We will deserve nothing less than disdain if we fail to fulfill his last wish.”

The press from all the anti-fascist forces celebrated the hero. But the anarchists, enemies of leadership cults, voiced this in Solidaridad Obrera: “Any organization other than the CNT would have consecrated him as a caudillo.” Tierra y Libertad, the FAI’s publication, said: “The city and the man sought one another, found one another, and interpenetrated. They were worthy companions.”

The CNT and FAI Committees received thousands of letters and telegrams from around the world. Spanish political figures and Column leaders expressed their grief. Leaders of the revolutionary left, like Andreu Nin or Marceau Pivert, said that Durruti’s death was a terrible loss for the revolution.

Dozens of Spanish and foreign writers articulated their sorrow. Among them, it was Pierre Scize who best pointed to the immense vacuum left by Durruti when he asked: “Who will be strong enough, and dignified enough, to take on Durruti’s legacy?” [746] How could we summarize his bequest? There is nothing better than citing a paragraph from his last letter, which he wrote to Liberto Callejas twenty-four hours before he died:

Before I left Catalonia, I asked those sharing my views for support. I’m not talking about those with weak souls and lacking in energy, but those of us determined to give the final push. Rifles alone do nothing if there isn’t a will and a plan in every shot. There’s no doubt that we’ll stop the fascists from entering Madrid, but we have to get rid of them soon, because we must conquer Spain anew.[747]

<sup>Above: Barcelona, September 1936. Photo taken on the roof of the “CNT-FAI House.” Left to right; Martín Gudell, Lithuanian, who advised the CNT-FAI on international affairs; Mariano R. Vázquez, general secretary of the Regional Committee of the Catalan CNT; his compañera Conchita; Feroze Ghandi, lawyer and husband of Indira Ghandi, daughter of Nehru, who appears in the foreground; Bernardo Poo is between the two, who was head of the CNT’s Information and Propaganda Services.

</sup> ^{Nehru Sri Jawaharial (1889–1964) visited Republican Spain on behalf of the Hindu National Congress Party. In an effort to inform the world about what was happening there, he wrote a book titled Why Spain? which was published in London in 1937.}

^{Below: “Casa Cambó” or the Ministry of Public Works, was known as the “CNT-FAI House” after July 19, 1936}

^{Formation of militiamen on the front.}

^{Special supplement of Solidaridad Obrera, dated July 20, 1936, detailing the military insurrection. The disorder at the time caused the impromptu editors of this issue to confuse the date.}

^{CNT-FAI bulletin published in various languages. This and the following three pages contain the first issue in French, which appeared on July 24, 1936. The articles comment on the tragic situation in Spain during the first days of the civil war.}

^{Organization of the Central Committee of Anti-Fascist Militias, showing the connections or relation between its services.}

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1. Bueno (Small column made up almost completely by Catalans from Esquerra.)

2. Lenin (Column made up by POUM members and some internationals.)

3. Ascaso (Column composed of CNT- FAI militiamen. Gregorio Jover led the force.)

4. Aguiluchos (CNT-FAI Column. Led by García Vivancos.)

5. Karl Marx (PSUC Column led by José del Barrio.)

6. Maurín (POUM Column, largely made up of workers from Lleida. Led by José Rovira)

7. Durruti (CNT-FAI Column. Led by Buenaventura Durruti.)

8. Sur-Ebro (CNT-FAI Column led by Antonia Ortiz.)

9. Peñalver (Small Column from Tarragona, made up by workers and soldiers. Led by Peñalver)

10. Mena (Small Column lead from Tarragona. Led by Mena) The last two Columns were absorbed by the Sur-Ebro Column and the Macià-Companys Column. The later was commanded Pérez Salas.

</sup>

^{Issue number 3 of the Durruti Column’s war bulletin El Frente, published in Pino del Ebro on August 27, 1936.}

^{Part of the front page of Solidaridad Obrera on September 12, 1936. This issue reports on the speech that Durruti gave by radio on the Aragón front to all of Spain.}