domingo, 10 de junio de 2007



"We are going to inherit the earth. There is not the slightest doubt about that. The bourgeoisie may blast and burn its own world before it finally leaves the stage of history. We are not afraid of ruins. We who ploughed the prairies and built the cities can build again, only better next time. We carry a new world, here in our hearts. That world is growing this minute."

Buenaventura Durruti.

My grandfather was an anarchist. I didn’t know it until the end, when he was dying. It was in a hospital room, where a lung cancer was killing him. I remember that that day I had brought some books, just for making things easier, and that among them was the first volume of Irving Horowitz’s Anarchists. And then he told me: ‘You know I used to be a CNT member before and during the War?’ Well, I knew he was a leftist & could vaguely recall how my family celebrated Franco’s death although I was only a brat by then. I also knew he was a PCE (Spanish Communist Party) sympathizer, but I’d never have suspected he was an old anarchist. Suddenly, the whole family mythology changed for me. Some time before I’d also discovered that his mother and one of his brothers had been assassinated by fascist gunmen around 1936. Can you imagine? I was the unaware descendant of a venerable tradition of libertarian martyrs and heroes. A teenage reader of Bakunin and Malatesta finding out that his grandpa was once an Idea fighter... I felt so fucking and stupidly proud!

However, there was something funny about the whole thing. My grandfather and I used to talk politics a lot and he knew I tried to be an anarchist myself. But until that day, he had never said a word about his CNT membership. It was certainly strange but it wasn’t rare. The Spanish Revolution history had been a hidden history for more than 40 years –and, in some ways, still is. He was one of the survivors of that failed Revolution and also one of the defeated in a long and cruel war, which is a shameful thing to be. For Franco and his crew, he and his comrades were not only criminals but monsters, the Anti-Spain –as they called them. You must have your mouth shut and try to forget the old times if you wanted to be alive and out of jail. He died a couple of months after that day, but we had time enough to talk about the Horowitz’s selection, about his experiencies and memories and about those times when Utopia seemed to be around the corner. What comes next aims to be a tiny and humble tribute to him and those who fought for libertarian communism in Spain.



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