[236] Having endured the Conservative monopoly of power for nearly four years, the Liberal coalition government of 1923 was eager to govern. Vowing to chart a new course for the nation by freeing the state from its bondage to the army, the Liberals pledged to assert civilian control over two areas that the dynastic parties had traditionally entrusted to the military: social policy in Barcelona and colonial policy in Morocco. But the Liberal coalition soon discovered that the symbiotic relationship between the regime and the army was too well established to be easily abandoned. In September 1923 their attempt at constitutional reform was cut short by the king and the army, whose political power and autonomy were threatened by the effort to base the regime on the broader foundation of popular sovereignty.

If the army had not attempted to seize direct control of the state before 1923, it was because it had not been necessary. The political sterility of the dynastic parties, their resistance to social change, and their determination to pursue an unpopular colonial war in North Africa had effectively quelled any enthusiasm for policies -- such as military reform -- that might find disfavor in the officer corps. Not until the disaster at Anual deprived the dynastic politicians of their traditional political support among the middle classes did they begin to find a reorientation of civil-military relations politically compelling. Furthermore, disunity within the army had loomed as an apparently insuperable obstacle to direct military intervention in politics. The divergence of interests between junteros and africanistas had made it impossible for governments to formulate a coherent military policy; their quarrels had contributed to the ministerial instability that further discredited the parliamentary regime in the postwar period. But the [237] professional divisions had also suggested that the army would not -- because it could not -- defend itself against a determined assertion of civil supremacy.

In fact, this was a false perception. Like the ability to avoid military reform, military disunity had been a luxury permitted by the absence of strong civilian government. Once the Liberal coalition of 1923 made clear the sincerity of its intention to restructure civil-military relations, the elusive military unity quickly became a reality. While the issues that divided the officer corps were too serious to disappear altogether, they could be temporarily submerged when the privileges and power of the army as a whole appeared to be at stake.

Military unity coincided with the growing popular disillusionment with a parliamentary system that found reform much easier to promise than to practice. The Liberal coalition of 1923 represented a futile attempt to retain a formal two-party system despite the naturally pluralistic bent of Spanish parliamentarism; like its predecessors, the coalition fell apart when put to the test of positive action. In order to survive, the government had to act cautiously, particularly as it became clear that the army was at the brink of revolt. But the government's hesitancy increased the impatience of a public eager for decisive action. Furthermore, a national consensus on issues other than the Moroccan war was lacking. As social disorder once again prevailed in Barcelona, middle-class support for the government wavered. The alienation and frustration that developed during 1923 revived the Spanish propensity to look for an "iron surgeon" to save the nation and deprived the regime of civilian as well as military defenders when Primo's manifesto appeared.

A shrewd political observer, Alfonso perceived the rapidly disintegrating situation and acted decisively to save his throne. The source of many of the army's pretensions as well as many of its discontents, he encouraged the military assault on the constitutional regime that had never allowed him the power he coveted and that now seemed to offer him scant protection against the enemies of the throne. His benevolence toward the military coup assured the cooperation of most of the officer corps -- still overwhelmingly monarchist -- by giving it a veneer of legitimacy. But Alfonso's own legitimacy rested on the Constitution of 1876; its destruction would ultimately leave him defenseless. The Crown would have as few loyal supporters in April 1931 as the parliamentary regime had in September 1923.

[238] The Liberal Coalition of 1923

High expectations accompanied the installation of the Liberal coalition government on December 5, 1922. ⁽¹⁾ One source of the enthusiasm was the composition of the cabinet, which not only reconstituted the long-fragmented Liberal party but also included for the first time a representative of the nondynastic left -- the Reformist José Pedregal, Minister of Finance. ⁽²⁾ By returning to their traditional role as the party of "attraction," the Liberals appeared to be restoring to the political system some of its former flexibility.

But the virtues of the cabinet were also its defects. As the coalition's lowest common denominator, the prime minister, García Prieto, was acceptable to all factions, but he offered no counterweight to the talented, but provocative and controversial Santiago Alba. More important, the fragile unity broke down when it came time to implement the reforms so easily promised in December. The most damaging fracture point was not between the Liberals and the Reformists -- whose inflexibility on the clerical issue forced their withdrawal from the cabinet in April -- but between the left-Liberals led by Alba and the bulk of the party, who were more deeply committed to the traditional system of civil-military relations. Vulnerable on the responsibilities issue, instinctively cautious on the social question, the majority Liberals would tarnish the image of the cabinet, hamper its effectiveness, and dilute its determination and ability to resist military pressure. Thus, the effort to revitalize the two-party system in the face of the fundamental pluralism of the political system ultimately proved to be counterproductive.

But in the hour of its creation the glitter of the cabinet was undimmed. The platform announced on December 7 was a catalog of reforms that, taken together, amounted to a radical democratization of the Constitution of 1876; among them were religious toleration (a plank insisted on by the Reformists as the price for their participation); democratization of the Senate; reform of the suffrage to a system of proportional representation; obligatory convocation of the Cortes for at least four months of every fiscal year; social, fiscal, agrarian, and military reforms, including cutbacks in personnel; the establishment of a civil Protectorate in Morocco; and the prosecution of responsibilities. A Cortes elected to implement these proposals would, in effect, be a Constituent Cortes.

The reform program reflected the disproportionate influence of the Alba-Álvarez axis within the cabinet; just how far its specific proposals coincided with national aspirations was open to question. To judge from the popular press, the Liberal government's primary [239] mandate was to pursue the "responsibilities" issue, a more immediately and widely acceptable goal that masked the lack of a broad consensus in favor of social and economic modernization. On December 10 an estimated two hundred thousand people participated in the "responsibilities" march sponsored by the Madrid Ateneo. The organizers' sympathies lay with the left, but the marchers included disaffected groups across the political spectrum, ranging from the Socialists, the Republicans, and the Spanish Grand Orient to the Carlists and the Social Catholic Youth of Covadonga. ⁽³⁾ Similar demonstrations in provincial cities and towns all over Spain reflected the national perception that the first step toward political renovation must be a reckoning with the past. The wave of protest contrasted vividly with the similar mass support for the campaign of "reconquest" just sixteen months earlier.

The government billed itself as the champion of "responsibilities," but in reality it discreetly avoided the issue as much as possible. While the Reformists were unblemished by past involvement in the regime, the Liberals -- particularly Romanones -- were deeply implicated in the colonial failure in North Africa. In order to survive, the coalition would have to postpone the responsibilities question as long as possible -- at least until after the election of the new Cortes -- and in the meantime, display its capacity for leadership in other areas. The steady pursuit of political reform might render a brutal confrontation over the responsibilities issue unnecessary.

Civil-Military Relations

Two decisions in December indicated that the new government perceived its primary obligation to be the establishment of the principle of civil supremacy, a task initiated but not completed by Sánchez Guerra during the previous year. For the first time since 1920, a civilian, Salvador Raventós, was appointed to the post of Civil Governor of Barcelona. Himself a wealthy Catalan, Raventós was acceptable to the Catalan bourgeoisie, who were otherwise skeptical of the return to a policy of pacification, especially when street terrorism was escalating. Next, the government announced that the Basque Republican financier Horacio Echevarrieta (whose mining deals, ironically, had initially provoked Abd el-Krim's rebellion) would shortly reopen negotiations for the ransom of the prisoners at Ajdir. ⁽⁴⁾ But formulation of a new Moroccan policy proved more difficult, because the cabinet, like its predecessors, lacked the courage -- or the conviction -- to abandon North Africa. Caught between the abandonistas in the country and the [240] africanistas in the army, the cabinet was obliged to devise a compromise that would enable Spain to remain in Morocco at no expense. As the Spanish experience in North Africa since 1909 had amply demonstrated, no such compromise existed: colonialism demanded a high price. Nevertheless, the Liberals were determined to succeed where others had failed.

Resolution of the dilemma was complicated by lack of consensus within the cabinet. One point of view, represented by the new War Minister, Niceto Alcalá-Zamora, and the High Commissioner, General Burguete, proposed completion of the previous policy: military operations in the Rif, including an assault on Alhucemas Bay, to eliminate Abd el-Krim before entrusting the Protectorate to civilian administration. ⁽⁵⁾ The Reformists, on the other hand, insisted on immediate implementation of the "civil Protectorate" outlined in the decree of September 16, 1922. Given the balance of forces in the Rif, maintenance of the status quo without resort to force was a chimera, but the Reformists' moral leverage, as the representatives of the left, gave them the victory. On December 25, after three arduous days of internal debate, the government announced its official policy to the country: "the Government believes that it should flee from halfway solutions and from more or less flexible transitions to a fully civilian Protectorate." Alba assured the public that there would be no further military operations beyond those necessary to secure existing positions. ⁽⁶⁾ But the new policy was itself a halfway solution that could not stabilize the Spanish position in North Africa.

The driving force in the cabinet was the Minister of State, Santiago Alba. Once converted to the Reformist position, Alba committed himself "with firmness, straightforwardly, without insane alternatives," ⁽⁷⁾ to the civilianization of the Protectorate. The Minister of War, Alcalá-Zamora, remained unenthusiastic. The former president of the parliamentary commission that had sponsored the military reform law of 1918, Alcalá-Zamora had a sympathy for the military point of view that was unique in the cabinet. Nevertheless, he grudgingly issued the decrees that made the civil Protectorate a reality. In early January the Commander General of Melilla, General Carlos de Lossada, was replaced by a Liberal officer more sympathetic to the government's policy; at the same time, a somewhat disgruntled General Burguete resigned as High Commissioner and was sent on an inspection tour of Poland. After Miguel Villanueva declined -- for the third time -- to become the first civilian High Commissioner, the Minister of the Navy, Luis Silvela, agreed to accept the post, despite his previous lack of interest in or knowledge of Moroccan affairs.

[241] The shake-up in the Protectorate administration was accompanied by a major reorganization decree on January 17 that was intended to strengthen the authority of the Ministry of State by depriving the High Commissioner of the title of General-in-Chief. Theoretically, the decree restored the autonomy of the general commands at Ceuta and Melilla with regard to military operations. But since no operations were contemplated, in practice Alba ignored all his military advisers, whether in the War Ministry or in Morocco. Other decrees laid the groundwork for the formation of a professional colonial army independent of the national standing army in the peninsula: all Spanish volunteers for the Tercio were channeled into regular army regiments in Morocco, while conscripts were reserved for garrison duty in the large towns. At the same time, officers were authorized to transfer back to peninsular regiments. By creating a civilian Protectorate defended by a purely voluntary military force, the government hoped to generate enthusiasm for Spain's "colonial mission." ⁽⁸⁾

The administrative decrees, which transferred power from military to civilian entities, represented a repudiation of the military domination of the Protectorate. A much more spectacular affront to military pride was the ransom and release of the 326 surviving prisoners of war from Ajdir. Immediately after his appointment, Echevarrieta had contacted Abd el-Krim through the good offices of a mutual friend, Idris bin Said. A clever propagandist, Abd el-Krim had agreed to parley only if the Spanish army were totally excluded from the negotiations. Echevarrieta himself served as a hostage while the final arrangements were made, and on January 27, in exchange for 4,270,000 pesetas, the Moroccans delivered the surviving prisoners, including General Navarro. Contrary to expectations, the hostages could provide no new explanations for the Anual disaster. They did, however, provide the left with ammunition with which to deride the army: a Liberal government and a Basque Republican had been successful where "militarism and bureaucracy" had failed. ⁽⁹⁾ The right and the army, on the other hand, demanded a punitive attack against Abd el-Krim for his criminal treatment of prisoners of war.

Discontent in the Army

All the initial decisions of the Liberal coalition aimed at reclaiming for civilian government the functions usurped by or abandoned to the army for decades. Although the government had anticipated military discontent, it felt confident enough of its popular support to ignore [242] military pressure and paid little heed to the rumors of military unrest that circulated almost incessantly from the moment it announced that it would ransom the prisoners and civilianize the Protectorate. Yet among the public the rumors gradually created the impression that a military pronunciamiento was not only possible but inevitable.

As early as December 29, El Heraldo printed reports of a conspiracy led by General Luque and seconded by three brigadiers with active commands in the capital -- Antonio Dabán, Federico Berenguer (Dámaso's brother), and Miguel Cabanellas. ⁽¹⁰⁾ No action was anticipated, however, because the head of the fourth brigade, General Leopoldo Saro, had refused to join the movement, which was tainted by the republican sympathies of Luque and Cabanellas. For observers of the military, the significance of the rumor lay in the alleged disaffection of the three young brigadiers, africanistas who owed their prestigious assignments to the influence of Alfonso XIII. El Heraldo reported "an atrophy of enthusiasm" for the monarchy among officers alienated by the king's toleration of the governmental assault on military pride and prerogatives. This claim was apparently corroborated when the king's adviser, the Conde del Grove, had to cancel a promonarchist demonstration because of the refusal of one Madrid regiment to participate. Evidence of similar alienation appeared in Barcelona, still a center of juntero feeling, where officers were reportedly dismayed by a government proposal for cutbacks in the officer corps as well as by the reorientation of the Protectorate. ⁽¹¹⁾

The ransom of the prisoners provided a focus for the vague uneasiness in the military. Outraged both by the pathetic condition of the hostages and by the propaganda value they represented for the left, officers unanimously interpreted the ransom as an affront to military honor that must be avenged by an assault on Ajdir; for the moment, the usual professional rivalries were submerged in a general sense of injured pride. In Madrid, junior Artillery officers circulated a petition demanding an immediate rupture with Abd el-Krim, General Weyler offered to lead a Cavalry assault against the rebels, and sixty-six general and field-grade officers met to discuss their grievances with the Captain General. ⁽¹²⁾ In Barcelona, a similar meeting took place under the leadership of Captain General Primo de Rivera (who nevertheless congratulated Alba on the ransom in a private letter). ⁽¹³⁾ Led by El Debate and La Acción, the right-wing press also sprang to the defense of national honor. When Abd el-Krim declared himself sultan of the Rif on February 8, they intensified their campaign for a renewal of operations.

[243] Publicly, the government acted as if there were no cause for alarm, but the tension in the country was palpable. The army's denunciations of the government were matched by equally violent antimilitaristic attacks in the abandonista press, which only heightened the army's sense of injury. In Catalonia, the friction between officers and Catalan separatists (who often cheered the Riffian nationalists) was so intense that General Primo de Rivera found it prudent to authorize use of the Law of Jurisdictions against the editor of L'Estat Català. The Radical El Diluvio was another victim of post facto military censorship. ⁽¹⁴⁾ The climate in Melilla was even more threatening. On February 4 the outgoing Commander General, Lossada, warned García Prieto that officers in the expeditionary forces were considering "the most rash and perhaps illegal undertakings" and blamed the antimilitaristic press and the government for the almost hysterical state of the African officer corps. ⁽¹⁵⁾
The military indignation was partially justified. First Sánchez Guerra, and then the Liberals, had ordered the army to remain in Africa but had refused to authorize the military operations that would pacify the zone. The government wanted the army to pay -- in casualties and prestige -- the price for its own political cowardice, and officers, not unjustly, felt victimized and frustrated. But even more crucial to the creation of military unrest was the army's perception that the Liberal government was indifferent, and even hostile, to military opinion. If civilian government could not be relied upon to defend the army from its critics, it lost its legitimacy in the eyes of many officers, who confused the army's interests with those of the nation. To resist the government thus became a patriotic duty.

Rumors of Dictatorship

In 1923 the antidynastic left temporarily moderated its hostility to the regime in order to give it another chance to reform itself from within. The right, refusing from the first to act as a loyal opposition to the government, contributed to the collapse of the system by calling continuously for dictatorship. It was not only the government's military policy that angered the right. The reform program announced by the Liberal coalition in December attacked many of the institutions the right considered essential to the continuity of traditional Spain; oligarchical rule, Catholic uniformity, fiscal and social conservatism, and colonial conquest were as sacred in their eves as military honor [244] and autonomy. Thus, the extreme right -- the Maurists and Catholic Integrists above all -- viewed the new government from the beginning as not only iniquitous, but illegitimate.

What was lacking for the moment was a dictator, although in the winter and spring of 1923 several possible candidates emerged. The most prominent was the king, a view Alfonso cultivated by attempting to dissociate himself from the government's policies. Disturbed by the unsettling rumors of an antimonarchical conspiracy in the Madrid garrison and frustrated by the policy reversal in Morocco, Alfonso had little faith in the ability or determination of the Liberal-Reformist coalition to defend the throne. In late February La Acción reported that the king was considering abdication and blamed the politicians and the constitution for his silence on issues of critical national importance. ⁽¹⁶⁾A few days later Alfonso stilled the rumors by patriotically proclaiming his determination to stand by the nation in its hour of crisis, thus publicly conveying his own skepticism concerning the Liberals' ability to govern. ⁽¹⁷⁾

Calls for authoritarian government were not restricted to Madrid and Melilla, but could also be heard in Barcelona, where social disorder was beginning to overshadow the Moroccan war as an issue of middle-class concern. Labor stoppages and terrorism in Barcelona had escalated rapidly since the beginning of the year, as had bank robberies, which theoretically provided funds for "the revolution," but which more often went into the pockets of the underworld characters who took refuge behind the facade of the CNT. The moderate Anarchosyndicalist leaders, Seguí and Pestaña, condemned but were unable to control the extremists, ⁽¹⁸⁾ and on March 10 Seguí was shot down in the street, clearing the way for the unrestrained activities of the Anarchist action groups. Accepting the challenge, the Sindicato Libre advised its followers to shoot troublesome members of the Sindicato Unico in the forehead. ⁽¹⁹⁾ Violence continued to mount throughout the spring and summer, reducing much of the Barcelona population to alternate states of terror and rage.

In this atmosphere the moderate policies of the Liberal Civil Governor Raventós were useless, but the government adamantly refused to declare martial law. Faced with chaos (for which they were of course partly responsible), the middle classes, led by the Employers' Federation and the Lliga, spoke with increasing stridency of the necessity of an authoritarian solution to the anarchy in the streets and factories. In March captains in the Barcelona garrison formed a small proto-fascist group called "La Traza" (The Design), whose initial manifesto proclaimed their intent to "do away with existing confusion and political [245] scandal. . . ." Later, an unverified rumor indicated that the tracistas had found a leader in General Martínez Anido. ⁽²⁰⁾ The leading military figure in Barcelona was not Martínez Anido, however, but the Captain General of Barcelona, Primo de Rivera, who had very capably filled the vacuum left by the dismissal of Martínez Anido the previous October. Furthermore, unlike his predecessor, Primo sympathized openly with the moderate regionalism of the Catalan bourgeoisie, praising the language, attending festivities, and deferring especially to Francisco Cambó. ⁽²¹⁾

The figure that dominated most talk of dictatorship during the spring of 1923 was General Francisco Aguilera, the president of the Supreme Military Council. The senior lieutenant general on the active list at age sixty-six, Aguilera was the darling of responsabilistas and abandonistas, to whom he presented an image of severity, impartiality, and justice. Not content to stop with the indictment of General Berenguer, in March 1923 the Supreme Military Council voted to indict General Cavalcanti for his rashness during the attack on the convoy to Tizza, disregarding completely the recommendation for a Laurel Wreath that he had received for the same action from Berenguer and La Cierva in 1921. On the twenty-first, another indictment was brought in against the recently liberated General Navarro for his failure to take Monte Arruit during the retreat from Anual. Then on April 8 Aguilera ordered the disciplinary arrest of the three generals who had voted to acquit the first officers tried in Melilla for dereliction of duty during the disaster. ⁽²²⁾ In contrast to the evasion and dilatory tactics of the dynastic parties, Aguilera's implacable pursuit of military responsibilities once again raised hopes on the left that the army might be the instrument of national regeneration. To encourage this view, Aguilera had joined the growing ranks of government critics, suggesting that the army would prove a loyal ally to "the people" in defense of the Fatherland. ⁽²³⁾

However prominent, Aguilera was a divisive figure and thus was an unlikely candidate to lead a military dictatorship. Needless to say, he was not popular among the africanistas, who saw themselves as scapegoats blamed for losing a war that the politicians had not allowed them to win. With three of its leading generals -- Berenguer, Navarro, and Cavalcanti -- under indictment, the Cavalry Corps also harbored a martyr complex and publicized their resentment by abstaining ostentatiously from the tribute to Aguilera that marked his advance to the top of the list of lieutenant generals. ⁽²⁴⁾ Within the officer corps, Aguilera's principal supporters were junteros so delighted by his prosecution of the africanistas that they were willing to forget his opposition to the luntas de Defensa in 1917.

[246] Indeed, the most striking characteristic of the growing sentiment in favor of dictatorship was the lack of agreement about who should intervene and for what purpose. The political confusion, social disorder, and economic dislocation of the postwar years had exposed the incapacity of the ruling elites and mobilized sectors of the population that had previously been indifferent to political issues. But the general desire for reform masked the lack of consensus about the degree and nature of political change. The political instability frequently inherent to the process of modernization frustrated Spaniards at every point on the political spectrum, making them susceptible to the appeal of authoritarian solutions. The lure of dictatorship united groups whose goals were otherwise incompatible, as Ortega y Gasset pointed out in El Sol in early January:

The craving or enthusiasm for dictatorship is, in Spain, a case of the belief in miracles, or faith in fate, in the prize of a political lottery. Dictatorship, like revolution, either is an effort pro iure contra lege, which tramples on positive law in search of a superior juridical state more in conformance with the public conscience, or it is an act of popularity, of confidence in a man that delegates power to him by means of a tacit plebiscite. The dictator must always precede the Dictatorship; here, the Dictatorship is supposed to create the dictator. ⁽²⁵⁾

Only a strong government would have been able to meet the challenge from the army, the right, and the throne with confidence; the fragile Liberal coalition broke down under the strain. For three months the cabinet had preserved its unity by avoiding all controversial issues. Except for the civilianization of the Protectorate and the prohibition of gambling, ⁽²⁶⁾ implementation of the reform program was postponed until after the elections scheduled for April 29. For all those who had expected dramatic action, this immobility was disillusioning, and as the election period approached, the coalition felt compelled to prove its commitment to reform.

For the Reformists, the most pressing issue was the reduction of church privilege. Like the army, the church was one of the institutional bulwarks of the monarchy; like civil-military relations, church-state relations had to be redefined if a real democratization of the regime was to occur. The Reformists had made revision of Article 11 of the [247] constitution a condition of their support for the government. Therefore, in early spring the Minister of Justice, the Conde de Romanones, began to test public support for an anticlerical program.

His initiative soon collapsed, partly because of the hostile response of the king and the church hierarchy, partly because middle-class sentiment was not united on the subject, as it was on the war. A proposal to prohibit the sale of artistic treasures by churches and monastic houses had to be modified after the king personally intervened. ⁽²⁷⁾ Then on March 30 Romanones received a letter from the Archbishop of Saragossa, Cardinal Soldevila, who warned that any alteration of Article 11 would "oblige the prelates to recommend expressly to [the Spanish] that they not vote for the supporters of the reform in the next elections." ⁽²⁸⁾ After the council of bishops endorsed Soldevila's letter on April 1, Romanones backed away from the issue. Three days later the Reformist representative, Pedregal, resigned as Minister of Finance.

The collapse of the coalition after only four months in office disillusioned those who had believed that the inclusion of the Reformists would lead to meaningful change. When the Reformists announced they would continue to support the cabinet without participating in it, they alienated the anticlerical left, who were no less dogmatic than the Spanish bishops. ⁽²⁹⁾ But they also disenchanted those who thought the coalition had sacrificed the opportunity to achieve other necessary reforms because of a doctrinaire attachment to an issue with little popular appeal: as El Sol remarked, the Reformists were notorious for raising issues that "ought" to interest public opinion. ⁽³⁰⁾ The key to any successful change in policy was widespread support, as the government's experience in Morocco had demonstrated; in the absence of popular backing, resistance to entrenched interests was impossible. Romanones, whose political prudence was born of the long experience denied the Reformists, merely recognized the division in the country by pulling back on religious reform. But the effect on the cabinet crisis was to discredit parliamentary government as an efficient instrument of national regeneration.

When he called for new elections on April 7, García Prieto reiterated the cabinet's commitment to the other constitutional and administrative reforms, as well as to a reordering of priorities that would place the needs of the peninsula over those of Morocco. ⁽³¹⁾ But during the electoral period, the Liberals campaigned primarily on the responsibilities question that had propelled them into office in December. The strength of the issue in the country -- together with the usual electoral tactics -- gave them 203 seats over the Conservatives' 108. More indicative of the national desire for political reform was the large vote given [248] to the parties of protest. The new Cortes contained 20 Reformists (still allied with the Liberal coalition), 22 regionalists, 11 Republicans, and 7 Socialists, including 5 from Madrid. Equally significant, however, was the large percentage of Spaniards who did not vote at all. The abstention rate was 35.5 percent; 23 percent elected deputies under Article 29 for lack of opposition. Nearly three-fifths of the electorate, in other words, were excluded from or had abandoned the political process.  Nothing could point more eloquently to the urgency of reform. ⁽³²⁾

The credibility conferred on the government by its electoral victory was short-lived. On May 19, five days before the opening of the Cortes, the coalition broke down again when the War Minister, Alcalá-Zamora, resigned his portfolio. Alcalá-Zamora's grievances were both political and personal. In part, his resignation was merely his ultimate retort to Santiago Alba, who as Minister of State, had single-handedly resolved all issues of colonial policy, often without regard for or deference to the opinions of his colleague. ⁽³³⁾ An ambitious man, Alcalá-Zamora had chafed under Alba's overweening presence, but he had waited until the elections had guaranteed him his own coterie of supporters before making an open break. ⁽³⁴⁾ Nonetheless, Alcala-Zamora's opposition to Alba's Moroccan policy was substantive as well. Both he and the High Commissioner, Luis Silvela, shared the African army's hostility to the halt in military operations. The military situation in the Protectorate had, if anything, deteriorated since the autumn. Al-Raysuni had predictably begun to violate the terms of his pact almost as soon as he had signed it. In the Rif, Abd el-Krim was engaged in a serious effort to construct a modern army and a Moroccan state. Silvela's orders were to reopen negotiations with both rebel leaders in order to stop the harassment of the stationary Spanish forces, but even the skilful General Castro Girona had made no headway with either of them. By spring, it was clear to both Silvela and Alcalá-Zamora that only an active display of military superiority could impose peace in the Protectorate. Alba and a majority of the cabinet remained opposed to a renewal of operations, however, for both political and financial reasons. Alcalá-Zamora had tried unsuccessfully to resign on April 3. When Alba presented the cabinet with a proposal for a new pact with al-Raysuni in May, the War Minister resigned again, this time with success.

The African army applauded the gesture, for their hostility toward the government had mounted since the ransom of the prisoners in January. The army was under assault from every quarter. Along the exposed front lines, daily skirmishes kept military tempers at the breaking point. In Melilla, the junior officers indicted for negligence at Anual were still undergoing prosecution, albeit slowlv. Their decisions [249] closely monitored by the vigilantes on the Supreme Military Council in Madrid, commanding officers hesitated to exercise leniency for fear of incurring the disciplinary sentences imposed on the generals who had acquitted the first defendants. The new Commander General, Pedro Vives Vich, had been in Melilla only a few weeks when he began to nag the government to replace him. ⁽³⁵⁾ "One only leaves Melilla embalmed or prosecuted" was the catchword of the day.

The cabinet made a small concession to military feeling by replacing Alcalá-Zamora with the chief of the General Staff, Luis Aizpuru, but otherwise it was determined to adhere to its original program. ⁽³⁶⁾ On May 23 the government opened the Cortes with a "Message from the Crown" that stressed its commitment to constitutional, fiscal, and administrative reforms, the just resolution of the responsibilities issue, and the end of "Moroccan extravagance." ⁽³⁷⁾ As agreed in December, the Conde de Romanones assumed the presidency of the Senate, and Melquíades Álvarez became president of the Congress. The Liberal-Reformist alliance seemed to have regained some of its momentum, but the government immediately squandered it by allowing the Cortes to lapse into its usual wrangling over electoral technicalities and into rhetorical battles over the wording of the parliamentary response to the Message, instead of insisting on immediate consideration of its program. The old habit of "politics as usual" proved difficult to overcome.

Morocco and Catalonia

During the summer of 1923, the Liberals lost the initiative to their critics on both the left and the right. The government's vulnerable points were those of its predecessors: Morocco, Catalonia, and responsibilities. In each case, it seemed essential to respond to the demands for change without unduly offending traditional interests, a task made more difficult by the ambiguity with which some members of the Liberal coalition viewed this assignment. But most crucial to the government's loss of mastery was the hostility of the army.

On June 3 the ambush of a supply convoy to the exposed salient at Tizi Azza cost the Spanish 350 casualties, including the death of the young commander of the Tercio, Lieutenant Colonel Rafael Valenzuela. Heavily exploited in the prowar press, this setback aroused misgivings about the government's policy of pacification, which gave the army the leverage it needed. Its confidence sapped by the two cabinet crises, the government desperately agreed on June 6 to appease military opinion by appointing General Martínez Anido as Commander General of [250] Melilla. The same day, it promoted the extremely popular Major Franco to lieutenant colonel and made him the new head of the Tercio. The appointment of Martínez Anido was applauded vigorously in the military press, which assured its readers that he would undoubtedly operate with the same disregard for official policy as he had as Civil Governor of Barcelona. ⁽³⁸⁾ The left, too, anticipated a renewal of operations, whatever the government might claim to the contrary, and denounced the appointment of a general so notoriously contemptuous of the principle of civil supremacy. ⁽³⁹⁾ On June 26 Socialists and Republicans in the Cortes called for the immediate abandonment of the Moroccan Protectorate. ⁽⁴⁰⁾

Abandonment was the only alternative to military conquest in Morocco, but the government was not confident enough of public support to defy the army, which, since the losses at Tizi Azza, was united in its perception of the Moroccan problem. Not even the government's appointees in the War Ministry could be relied upon to defend its colonial policy; junteros were as indignant as africanistas. ⁽⁴¹⁾ The issue that had so long divided Spanish officers had begun to draw them together, making a military pronunciamiento a realistic possibility. Throughout the summer, the military press commented obsessively on the dishonorable policy in Morocco and the iniquity of the politician with whom it was most closely identified, Santiago Alba.

The government could not risk alienating the army because the middle-class consensus that had brought it to power was problematic on every issue except the war. In Barcelona, the situation was increasingly radicalized, though not coherently focused. As usual, the forces of protest were united only in opposition to the status quo; otherwise, they were divided by class interests and by the growing strength of radical nationalism. Catalyst for the latter was Acció Catalana, whose militant separatism appealed to a younger clientele intolerant of the political gradualism and social conservatism of the Lliga Regionalista. Cambó's formal accusation against the Allendesalazar government in December had given the Lliga a majority of Catalan seats in the Cortes elections of April 29, but in the provincial elections of June 10 the Lliga fell into third place behind Acció Catalana and campaigned stridently against Cambó, who, in the interests of the policy of accommodation he had always defended, resigned as director of the Lliga and as a parliamentary deputy on June 11. ⁽⁴²⁾

Openly hostile to regionalism, the Liberals made no effort to appease Catalan sentiment, whether moderate or radical. ⁽⁴³⁾ As a consequence, they threw away the opportunity to broaden their support among the most dynamic sectors of the Catalan middle class, who [251] might otherwise have proven helpful allies in the struggle with the army over Morocco. Instead, the antagonism of the government contributed to the leftward shift of the Catalan nationalists, who intensified their protests against the centralized state and its instrument, the army. If anything, the Lliga was even less satisfied with the cabinet than the Catalan left. Alba, the advocate of the excess profits tax in 1916, was also an open foe of the highly protectionist tariff of 1922 and was pushing for general fiscal reform in the present cabinet. More important, the government refused to accede to the Lliga's demands for a declaration of martial law to cope with the mounting social disorder. ⁽⁴⁴⁾

Divided in their attitudes toward regionalism, the Catalan middle classes were united in their appreciation of the social problem. By 1923 both the Spanish economy and the Spanish working class were recovering from the depressed years of 1921 and 1922. ⁽⁴⁵⁾ As profits and employment rose, so did the activities -- legal and illegal -- of the labor organizations and the determination of the Employers' Federation to resist all concessions. Although the number of strikes and acts of terrorism did not rise to the levels of 1919-20, bombings and shootouts claimed an alarming number of victims, including the moderate CNT leader Seguí on March 10 and the Archbishop of Saragossa, Cardinal Soldevila, on June 4. ⁽⁴⁶⁾ In late May the dismissal of two members of the Sindicato Unico of transportation workers sparked the largest work stoppage since the Canadiense strike of 1919 -- a general transportation strike that brought Barcelona to a standstill, threatening public health as uncollected garbage accumulated in streets and plazas. Unable to negotiate a settlement between unbending adversaries, Raventós resigned as Civil Governor on May 29 and was replaced by a Liberal journalist, Francisco Barber.

If Raventós, a leading member of the Catalan bourgeoisie, had been unable to enlist support for the government's policy of negotiation, Barber had no hope at all. On June 3 the Employers' Federation issued a statement that blamed the government for the prolongation of the strike and for the breakdown of public authority. ⁽⁴⁷⁾ The assassination of Soldevila in Saragossa the next day won the employers the sympathy of conservative deputies in the Cortes. ⁽⁴⁸⁾ While attending the public funeral of a murdered Somerenista on June 9, Barber was assailed with cries of "Away with the governor! Away with the representative of the Sindicato Unico!" A serious disturbance was narrowly averted by the appearance of General Primo de Rivera, who was able to deflect the hostility toward Barber into a display of support for himself. ⁽⁴⁹⁾ Nevertheless, on June 11 the government denied yet another request for a declaration of martial law; it was determined to proceed [252] with its plan to "civilianize" governmental authority in Barcelona. ⁽⁵⁰⁾ Because the Liberals were dependent upon the left and center-left to enact their reform program, both Republicans and Socialists were able to insist that the cabinet retain its commitment to liberal principles. ⁽⁵¹⁾ From the point of view of the right, however, the government was being blackmailed by the forces of anarchy.

Mediating the civilian and military discontent in Barcelona was the Captain General, Miguel Primo de Rivera. ⁽⁵²⁾ A notorious beneficiary of the military turno that had collapsed in 1917, Primo had been moderately successful since then in retaining his influence by posing as the champion of juntero interests, particularly within the court and ministry circles to which he was privy. His appointment to the Captaincy General of Catalonia in March 1922 had been a conciliatory gesture to the junteros, whose power in Madrid had waned with the advent of the africanistas. Under the Liberals, however, he had lost some of his influence; the Liberal cacique from Cadiz had prevented his election to the Senate in May. ⁽⁵³⁾

One of Primo's most extraordinary gifts was his ability to modify his opinions to suit his audience. Though he had twice been forced to resign a post for advocating abandonment of the Moroccan Protectorate, Primo now found it expedient to champion an aggressive military policy to restore the honor of the army. While he had privately congratulated Santiago Alba on the ransom of the prisoners in January, within the Barcelona garrison he had adopted the bellicose language that even junteros now appreciated. Similarly, he listened with sympathy to the grievances of antiseparatist officers while simultaneously expressing respect for the aspirations of moderate Catalan nationalism as represented by the Lliga. ⁽⁵⁴⁾ The Catalan bourgeoisie in turn viewed Primo de Rivera as their only bulwark against Anarchist terrorism and government incompetence.

On June 13 the Employers' Federation asked the Captain General to settle the transportation strike, which showed no signs of early resolution. In his reply, Primo cautiously remarked that the mediation was entrusted to the Civil Governor, but then proceeded to analyze the points in dispute between labor and management in terms moderate enough to be accepted immediately by the employers and tentatively by the workers. ⁽⁵⁵⁾ Caught off balance, the government called both Primo and Barber to Madrid; portentously, Primo returned alone to Barcelona on June 23, even though the strike had resumed. Barber's replacement, Manuel Portela Valladares, was appointed five days later, but it was clear that the Captain General was now the real authority in [253] Catalonia. Neatly circumventing the government's refusal to declare martial law, on June 28 Primo closed the CNT daily, Solidaridad Obrera, and arrested Angel Pestaria and twenty-five others for "sedition and incitation to rebellion," crimes over which military courts possessed permanent jurisdiction. ⁽⁵⁶⁾

The Quadrilateral

During his brief sojourn in Madrid, Primo began to lay the groundwork for the military dictatorship evoked with increasing frequency by the government's critics on both the left and the right. Upon arriving in the capital on June 18, he had attended a "patriotic" meeting of prestigious senior officers that included Generals Aguilera and Arraiz, both prominent members of the Supreme Military Council. ⁽⁵⁷⁾ Unable to persuade Aguilera to place himself at the head of a movement, Primo then turned to a rival group of officers, whose resentment was directed as much against the Supreme Military Council as against the government. ⁽⁵⁸⁾

The "Quadrilateral," as this group of conspirators was known, met daily in the residence of its leader, General Cavalcanti. ⁽⁵⁹⁾ Its other members -- Generals Dabán, Saro, and Federico Berenguer -- commanded the three Infantry regiments stationed in the capital and maintained close relations with the palace. Ardent africanistas, their major grievance against the government was its opposition to a forward policy that would firmly establish Spanish control over North Africa. The conspirators seem to have had no other concrete objectives, although personal motives undoubtedly heightened their sense of injury. Cavalcanti had recently been indicted by the Supreme Military Council for his imprudence during the convoy to Tizza; Berenguer's brother was about to be tried for negligence by the same tribunal. Also rumored to be in touch with the conspirators was a fourth brigadier, General Cabanellas, himself a recent victim of the Juntas, and the Military Governor of Madrid, the Duque de Tetuán, a close confidant of the king.

The Quadrilateral's activities had not gone beyond seditious muttering, for lack of a leader to head a coup. None of them was personally prestigious enough to muster widespread support in the army; the most prominent senior officer in Madrid, General Aguilera, was, for obvious reasons, unacceptable from their point of view. Initially, they were no more favorably inclined toward General Primo de Rivera, because of his political connections, juntero sympathies, and abandonista [254] reputation. But Primo now agreed that the army must be allowed to avenge its honor in Morocco, and the Quadrilateral had overcome some of their misgivings about him by the time he left for Barcelona.

His comings and goings in Madrid reported in the press, Primo made no attempt to hide his intentions, even confessing to the Conde de Romanones that he planned a rebellion sometime in the future. ⁽⁶⁰⁾ Apparently fearing that Primo's removal from Catalonia would only precipitate matters, the government decided to postpone a confrontation by allowing him to return to Barcelona. From that moment on, they were living on borrowed time. As Primo stepped off the train, he was greeted by crowds cheering "Long live the brave general! Long live the army! Down with the farcical Government! Long live the Somatén!" ⁽⁶¹⁾

The Debate on Responsibilities

The passivity with which the Liberal coalition countenanced the disintegration of its authority in Barcelona and Morocco is understandable only when placed in the context of its disintegrating authority in the Cortes. From the beginning of the sessions, the government had lost the initiative to its critics on both the left and the right, who labeled its policies as, respectively, either hypocritical or pusillanimous. The principal source of the government's weakness was the responsibilities issue, which forced the Liberals to confront the ambiguity of their program of gradual reform from within the system. As during the previous autumn, there was no easy resolution of their problem. Too closely identified with the past history of the regime to avoid implication in its failures, the Liberals clung to political censure of the Conservatives as a compromise that might satisfy a majority of the country.

The demand for a real political accounting was the foundation of the left/center-left coalition, however. From the point of view of the Socialists, the entire reform program depended on a bold resolution of this issue. On June 20 Prieto introduced a new formal accusation against the members of the Allendesalazar and Maura governments for their "omissions and acts" before and after Anual. The inclusion of the Maura government in the accusation made it impossible for the Liberals to support the Socialists' motion, for Romanonists had participated in the Maura cabinet. On the other hand, the Liberal coalition could not afford to abandon the responsibilities issue to the extreme left. To gain time, García Prieto proposed the appointment of a parliamentary "Responsibilities Commission," on the grounds that the findings [255] of the Picasso report were insufficient to support a blanket political indictment. Composed of twenty-one deputies, the Commission was to gather new evidence during the summer recess and to submit a recommendation to the Congress at the opening of the autumn session on October 1. Fearful that rejection of the Liberals' proposal might enable them to avoid the responsibilities question altogether, the Socialists and Republicans voted with the majority in favor of the compromise on July 6. ⁽⁶²⁾

In the Senate, debate once again revolved around General Berenguer. Interest in military responsibilities had revived in May when Berenguer had published his version of the Moroccan campaign. The documents in his book successfully vindicated his decisions after the disaster but did not quite dispel his negligence prior to Anual. ⁽⁶³⁾ By the summer of 1923, however, the true extent of the former High Commissioner's guilt or innocence mattered less than the general principle of accountability. Sensitive as usual to public opinion, Berenguer had once again asked the Senate to grant the suplicatorio requested by the Supreme Military Council so that he might prove his innocence before the court. ⁽⁶⁴⁾ Since the government could not oppose the prosecution of Berenguer without abandoning its responsibilities mandate altogether, Romanones grudgingly sponsored the suplicatorio in the Senate. ⁽⁶⁵⁾ His own position was difficult, for he had been a firm and constant supporter of the former High Commissioner. Freeing his adherents from their obligation to vote with him as a bloc, he allowed them to join the Conservatives and the senior generals in delaying consideration of the motion. By late June it had still not come to a vote.

As the debates dragged on in the Cortes, the stature of the president of the Supreme Military Council, General Aguilera, increased, particularly among the left, who viewed him as the only guarantee that justice would prevail. Aguilera, too, was growing impatient with the political maneuvering in the Senate. In order to obstruct passage of the suplicatorio, "impunista" senators had cast aspersions on the integrity of the Supreme Military Council. ⁽⁶⁶⁾ In the opinion of Aguilera and other Council members who met to discuss the problem on June 27, the government had been lukewarm in its defense of their honor. ⁽⁶⁷⁾ Their indignation soared the next day when Joaquín Sánchez de Toca abruptly abandoned his opposition to the suplicatorio and moved that it be granted unanimously "for reasons of state," implying that the Council was preparing a coup. Taking advantage of the surprise, Romanones called for a favorable vote by acclamation and succeeded in obtaining Berenguer's release for trial. ⁽⁶⁸⁾

Aguilera, however, was not mollified. Two days later he wrote a [256] highly provocative letter on official stationery to Sánchez de Toca, accusing him of libel and threatening to demand personal satisfaction. Reading the letter in the Senate on July 3, Sánchez de Toca refused to view it as a purely personal matter; instead, he denounced it as an assault on parliamentary inviolability by the president of the highest military tribunal. ⁽⁶⁹⁾ As president of the Senate, Romanones felt obliged to refer the letter to the civil Supreme Court for adjudication. At the same time, he worked feverishly to promote a reconciliation between the two senators. ⁽⁷⁰⁾

Concern for civil supremacy was restricted to the dynastic politicians, for nearly everyone else nailed Aguilera as a national hero. The left interpreted the conflict as part of an impunista maneuver to remove Aguilera from the Council; officers in the Madrid garrison, on the other hand, viewed the Senate action as an affront to military honor. On July 5 both Aguilera and Sánchez de Toca appeared in the Senate surrounded by supporters and journalists anticipating a confrontation. In order to avert a potentially violent scene, Romanones invited Aguilera and the leader of the Conservative party, Sánchez Guerra, to his office, where the conversation soon degenerated into an exchange of insults. When Aguilera suggested an invidious comparison between military and civilian honor, Sánchez Guerra impetuously struck the general, who just as impetuously retaliated. The tussle was quickly ended by Romanones, however, and they were sent back to the Senate after a gentlemanly handshake.

On the floor of the chamber, the battle continued. Insisting that his letter was written as a private individual, Aguilera refused to retract it, adding that if the Senate aimed at removing him from his post, "opinion, and . . . the people, will do me justice." The prime minister, García Prieto, quickly sprang to the defense of civil supremacy, declaring that any opposition would prevail "only over the corpses of all of us." As tension mounted, a fight broke out in the back benches, while Romanones and Sánchez de Toca attempted to persuade Aguilera to retract his letter, without success. On the other hand, Aguilera refused to repeat his earlier challenge to the government. Finally, the session was unceremoniously ended by Romanones. ⁽⁷¹⁾

In Aguilera Spain had not found her Louis Napoleon, but her Boulanger. The violent passions of the three-day affair quickly faded, the opera buffo aspects of the scenes in the Senate became clarified, and all that remained was more bad feeling between right and left. ⁽⁷²⁾ But while it divided the civilian politicians, the incident united the army. Sánchez Guerra's assault in the office of Romanones was felt collectively by an officer corps that had experienced a succession of blows [257] to its corporate pride since the Liberal coalition government took office in December 1922. Aguilera's unedifying performance in the Senate was an insult and a challenge that enabled junteros and africanistas, responsabilistas and impunistas, to transcend their differences and unite on the basis of their opposition to the government. The pronunciamiento of Primo de Rivera two months later would succeed because of the nearly universal disaffection of the officer corps from the parliamentary regime.

Alfonso XIII and the Dictatorship

Observing the panorama of disintegrating civil authority, almost certainly aware of the rumors of military conspiracy about him, Alfonso had begun to think seriously of supporting a temporary dictatorship. Uppermost in his mind was the preservation of his throne, which he believed threatened from two directions -- from the Cortes, which might at any time become "Constituent," and from the army, which might sweep away the monarchy along with the parliamentary regime. As he recalled later in exile, he feared the army would mistake his silence for approval of the government's policies in North Africa and Catalonia. ⁽⁷³⁾ As the responsibilities debates got underway in the Cortes, the king let it be known that he was considering a temporary alteration of the constitution. In a speech in Salamanca on June 26, Alfonso suggested that dictatorship was admissible "circumstantially and in moments of extraordinary gravity . . . for a very limited number of days in order to leave the way clear for Governments that respect the popular will." ⁽⁷⁴⁾ A month later he confided to the Minister of Public Instruction, Joaquín Salvatella, that he was contemplating an interim military government. ⁽⁷⁵⁾After the appointment of the Responsibilities Commission in July, a defensive movement to save the throne appeared more urgent than ever. Less than a year earlier, military defeat in Smyrna had led to the abdication of King Constantine and the formation of a revolutionary republican regime in Greece. A similar denouement to the responsibilities campaign in Spain was not unthinkable.

In early August Alfonso sought the advice of Antonio Maura, who responded in a lengthy note a few days later. Maura agreed that the present situation could not endure. The turno was dead, coalition governments had failed to revive it, and an alternative government that excluded the traditional political parties would not survive in the absence of any civic sense in the nation. But however necessary to overcome the inertia of the system, a rupture should not be initiated by the [258] king: "Neither the generosity of the motive, nor constant success, would avoid the inevitable suicide." On the other hand, immediate action was imperative before a rapid return to constitutional normality became impossible. In Maura's opinion, the only alternative open to the king was a temporary military dictatorship. Six years earlier Maura had remarked that "those who do not let others govern should govern themselves." He repeated his advice in 1923:

It would be less harmful if those who had imposed their will at critical moments would completely assume the governing function under their own responsibility. Even if they did not succeed in overcoming the difficulties, nor even in sustaining themselves, there would be fewer obstacles to a convalescence that, in any case, can only consist in Spaniards' emerging from their abstention and occupying their appropriate place in political life. ⁽⁷⁶⁾

Its political vitality spent by eight months of evasion and concession, the Liberal coalition lacked the will to stand up to the army when confrontation over the war in Morocco could no longer be avoided. Goaded into defiance by the unregenerate Martínez Anido, the army took advantage of the cabinet's weakness, a weakness largely of the Liberals' own making. By failing to act decisively in January, when their political support in the nation had been extensive, they had wasted the opportunity to resolve the ambiguities in Spain's colonial policy. Faced with the implications of those contradictions in August, the government found it could not resist the army's demand for new operations. Yet once it had agreed to authorize an advance, its reason for being disappeared.

Arriving in Melilla on June 8, General Martínez Anido had found a demoralized and idle army exposed to continual harassment along the forward line while Spanish negotiators parleyed with Abd el-Krim. Rumor had it that Alba had prohibited the Melilla garrison from even firing a shot in self-defense. ⁽⁷⁷⁾ Within a few weeks, the new Commander General had transformed expectations and morale. Negotiations with the rebels came to an abrupt halt when the chief negotiator, Idris bin Said, was mysteriously assassinated on June 20. Then in mid-July Martínez Anido submitted a plan for a combined amphibious and overland assault on Alhucemas Bay, accompanied by a warning that he would resign if the plan were not approved. As he made clear to [259] Silvela, his primarv loyalty was to the army of Africa, not to the High Commissioner or the government. ⁽⁷⁸⁾

In early August Silvela went to Madrid to discuss the plan with the government. Personally, he supported a renewal of operations, but as his own Military Cabinet had pointed out, the conquest of Alhucemas would necessitate the commitment of twenty thousand additional troops and fifty million pesetas, far more than the nation was prepared to sacrifice. Within the cabinet, only the War Minister, General Aizpuru, favored the plan; the others -- particularly Alba, Joaquín Chapaprieta, Rafael Gasset, and Villanueva -- wanted to cut Moroccan expenditures even further to free funds for development in the peninsula. Since the existing forward line was clearly untenable, the cabinet voted to order a retreat, disagreeing only on whether the new line should be at Dar Drius and Afrau, or at the Kert River. ⁽⁷⁹⁾ On August 11 Alba announced that he had asked General Weyler to head a technical commission from the General Staff to assess the situation in the Rif and to recommend on the positioning of the new line.

Public reaction to the government's decision was overwhelmingly favorable, except in the military press, which unanimously condemned the decision as an affront to the honor of the army and a betrayal of the "supreme and true interests of the Fatherland." ⁽⁸⁰⁾ When Martínez Anido resigned, as he had promised, on August 12, he expressed the collective indignation of the entire officer corps, which was now on the brink of rebellion. ⁽⁸¹⁾ In the minds of most officers, the cabinet -- especially the nefarious Santiago Alba -- was guilty of sacrificing the national interest to personal political ambition. But the ad hominem attacks on Alba disguised a deeper sense of resentment and confusion arising from the government's efforts to transfer the basis of its sovereignty from the army to the Spanish people. The change of policy this transfer implied threatened the power of the army and offended its sense of tradition and purpose. It was an easy step to the assertion that the army must safeguard the nation, whatever the shortcomings of the state.

The confrontation over Morocco was the critical test for the cabinet -- and ultimately, for the future of the parliamentary regime. Until the state was assured of the obedience of the army, the possibility of reform was an illusion. Behind the government were the working-class left and most of the middle class, awakened since Anual to the necessity of political change. Yet in the face of mounting military pressure and a new outbreak of revolutionary protest, the will of the cabinet broke. The precipitant of the crisis was a renewal of heavy fighting along the exposed salient in the Rif. Four days after Weyler's arrival [260] in Melilla on August 15, Abd el-Krim shrewdly ordered his haraka to attack the front, causing 339 casualties, including 14 officers, and placing the entire Spanish line in jeopardy. Although there were 60,000 troops in Melilla, the new Commander General, Enrique Marzo, wired for reinforcements, and the government reluctantly mobilized 20,000 additional troops. ⁽⁸²⁾

In contrast to the patriotic response to Anual, the national mood in August 1923 was bitter. The widespread opposition to further military sacrifice inspired the small Spanish Communist party to attempt a daring reprise of the Tragic Week of 1909. As the troops embarked in Malaga, a Communist corporal, José Sánchez Barroso, set off a mutiny in the Garellano regiment timed to coincide with the outbreak of a general strike in Bilbao. According to the scheme worked out by the Communist leader, Oscar Pérez Solís, the mutiny and the strike would trigger a military coup that would shortly give way to the proletarian revolution. ⁽⁸³⁾ In the event, both the mutiny and the strike were unsuccessful. In Malaga, the troops were soon herded back on board the steamer Barceló, the instigators of the mutiny captured and tried by a military court that sentenced Corporal Sánchez Barroso to death. In Bilbao, the Communist strike failed when the Socialists refused to second it, Pérez Solís receiving a wound during a bloody confrontation between strikers and police.

Viewed from a long-term perspective, however, the plot achieved its goals. When the government voted to recommend clemency for Sánchez Barroso on August 28, it definitively alienated a majority of the officer corps. In overruling the verdict of the military court and placing a moratorium on further troop shipments, the government momentarily regained some of its earlier popularity in the country, but it simultaneously convinced the army that it could not or would not defend the principles of military discipline or social order. ⁽⁸⁴⁾ On August 29 General Primo de Rivera sent the War Minister an "impertinent" telegram protesting the pardon, which Aizpuru read to the cabinet the same day. Alba urged immediate dismissal of the Captain General, whom he later characterized as "the most insurmountable and tenacious obstacle to the normal development of a policy in conformance with that of the Government." ⁽⁸⁵⁾ But a majority of the cabinet, shaken by the mutiny in Malaga and fearful of precipitating a coup, preferred to do nothing. The traditional reluctance of the dynastic politicians to alienate the military had reasserted itself. Like its predecessors, the Liberal coalition hoped only to stay in office.

When the coalition divided over the renewal of operations on September 1, the dispute was not really over Morocco, but over whether [261] the cabinet should persist in its commitment to the principle of civil supremacy. Returning early from Melilla, General Weyler presented the cabinet with a recommendation to advance in the Rif to a line that included the old positions of Anual and Igueriben, a recommendation logical only if the ultimate goal were Alhucemas Bay. Behind his proposal were the combined weight of the king and the army. On August 31 the staunchest supporter of the civil Protectorate, Alba, suddenly announced his decision to accept Weyler's proposal. To do so meant to renounce the government's entire reform program in favor of a new commitment of resources in Morocco; it also meant an end to the attempt to render the regime more responsive to popular opinion. Unwilling to pay such a heavy price, Villanueva, Chapaprieta, and Gasset resigned their portfolios, leaving García Prieto no alternative but to present the resignation of the entire cabinet to the king.

Alfonso, however, ratified his confidence in the prime minister the following day. A Conservative solution was impossible; the Conservatives were too deeply implicated in the Anual disaster to take office one month before the Responsibilities Commission was scheduled to deliver its report. Thus, the search began for Liberals willing to capitulate to the demands of the army. Finally, on September 3, García Prieto announced the formation of a cabinet composed of the followers of Alba, Romanones, and himself; ⁽⁸⁶⁾ the next day, an official note confirmed that the new government would support the army's plan for an advance. ⁽⁸⁷⁾

The cynicism of the final political crisis of the parliamentary monarchy deprived the Liberals of the remnants of their moral authority. The replâtrage of September 3 could not disguise that the regime had lost the battle to diminish the power of the army; by 1923 the army had grown too accustomed to its autonomy to surrender without protest. To remain in office under the circumstances seemed hypocritical and debasing, and the democratic left abandoned the government en masse. ⁽⁸⁸⁾ On September 4 El Liberal suggested that the only honorable solution to the crisis of civil authority was resignation, "abandoning power in order for 'those who do not allow others to govern' to govern themselves." ⁽⁸⁹⁾ For the first time in many years, Antonio Maura and El Liberal were in agreement.

1. See Amadeu Hurtado, Quaranta anys d'avocat, 1:436.

2. The cabinet included representatives from each of the principal Liberal factions. Romanones took the Justice portfolio until becoming president of the Senate, when he was replaced by the Conde de López Muñoz; his man, Joaquín Salvatella, took Public Instruction. García Prieto's faction, the Democrats, included Luis Silvela in Navy and the Duque de Almodóvar del Valle in Interior. After Pedregal's resignation in April, Miguel Villanueva became Minister of Finance. A former Democrat, Niceto Alcalá-Zamora, in the War Ministry, was now an independent with his own following. Another independent, Rafael Gasset, took Development. Santiago Alba, leader of the third great Liberal faction, became Minister of State; his man, Joaquín Chapaprieta, was in Labor.

3. El Heraldo, Dec. 10, 1922, p. 1.

4. El Liberal, Dec. 22, 1922, p. 1. Echevarrieta, owner of El Liberal of Bilbao, had once employed the Socialist deputy Indalecio Prieto as a private secretary.

5. Burguete's report is in Congreso, Comisión de responsabilidades, app., pp. 69-101.

6. El Liberal, Dec. 26, 1922, p. 1.

7. Quoted in Jesús Pabón, Cambó, 2 (1):421.

8. R.D. of Jan. 17, 1923; R.O.C. of Feb. 19, 1923; R.D. of Mar. 28, 1923; R.O.C. of Feb. 24, 1923.

9. El Liberal, Jan. 28, 1923, p. 1.

10. El Heraldo, Dec. 29, 1922, p. 1.

11. El Liberal, Dec. 28, 1922, p. 1.

12. See El Sol, Feb. 7 and 20, 1923, p. 1; Ejército y Armada, Feb. 7 and 11,1923, p. 1; CM, Feb. 7-16, 1923, p. 1; Niceto Alcalá-Zamora y Torres, Memorias,p. 72.

13. The letter is in Santiago Alba, L'Espagne et la Dictature, pp. 30-51.

14. El Liberal, Feb. 14, 1923, p. 1; EE, Feb. 14, 1923, p. 1.

15. CM, Feb. 20, 1923, p. 2.

16. Quoted in Gabriel Maura Gamazo and Melchor Fernández Almagro, Por qué cayó Alfonso XIII, pp. 361-62. According to Alcalá-Zamora, the king had been considering a personal dictatorship since December, or abdication in favor of his son should this fail. Memorias, pp. 89-90.

17. El Sol, Mar. 3, 1923, p. 3.

18. Gerald Meaker, The Revolutionary Left in Spain, 1914-1923, p. 459.

19. El Liberal, Mar. 18, 1923, p. 3.

20. El Heraldo, Mar. 24 and Apr. 9, 1923, pp. 1, 3.

21. Pabón, Cambó, 2 (1): 449-50.

22. El Liberal, Apr. 6 and 8, 1923, p. 1.

23. Ejército y Armada, Feb. 11, 1923, p. 1.

24. El Heraldo, Mar. 28, 1923, p. 1.

25. El Sol, Jan. 14, 1923, p. 1.

26. Gambling was prohibited everywhere except in the military casino,the Circle of Fine Arts, the Grand Club, and the Casino of Madrid; i.e., it was prohibited to all but the privileged.

27. The decree is in Conde de Romanones, Obras completas, 3:418-19.

28. El Sol, Mar. 30, 1923, p. 1.

29. See España, Mar. 31, 1923, pp. 2-3, and in subsequent issues throughout the spring of 1923. As of January 1, the new editor was Manuel Azaña.

30. El Sol, Apr. 4, 1923, p. 1.

31. El Liberal, Apr. 7, 1923, p. 1.

32. For an analysis of the elections, see Miguel Martínez Cuadrado, Elecciones y partidos politícos de España (1868-1931), 2:840-45.

33. DSC (May 30, 1923), 1:102-10. See also Alcalá-Zamora's memoirs, Memorias, pp. 86-91, where he argues that the king also desired his resignation.

34. See the critical remarks in España, June 2, 1923, p. 5.

35. See his correspondence with the government in SHM-A, 1-4-8-21,and in DNSD, Madrid: Sección Politico-Social, carp. 848, leg. 740. See also Silvela's testimony before the Responsibilities Commission, typed transcript in SHM-A, 4-1-11-24.

36. On the search for a replacement for Alcalá-Zamora, see El Heraldo,May 25, 1923, p. 1. According to Alcalá-Zamora, the docile Aizpuru was the king's candidate. Memorias, p. 88.

37. DSS (May 23, 1923), 1:12-14.

38. EE, June 7, 1923, p. 2.

39. See España, June 16, 1923, pp. 1-2; Indalecio Prieto in DSC (June 14,1923), 2:380-84, 388-89.

40. DSC (1923), 2:547.

41. El Liberal, June 1 and 9, 1923, p. 1; El Heraldo, June 7, 1923, p. 1.

42. His letter of resignation is in Pabón, Cambó, 2 (l):434-36.

43. See the Lliga's amendment to the Message to the Crown and the Liberals' response in DSS (June 21, 1923), 1:266-78, and DSC (June 22, 1923),2:493, app. 1.

44. Conveyed through the Captain General, Primo de Rivera, during a trip to Madrid. El Liberal, May 23, 1923, p. 1.

45. Manuel Tuñón de Lara, El movimiento obrero en la historia de España, pp.723-28.

46. According to Gerald Meaker, there were 34 deaths and 76 injuries between December 1922 and May 1923.Revolutionary Left, p. 458.

47. El Liberal, June 3, 1923, p. 2.

48. See La Cierva in DSC (June 5, 1923), 1:175-76, and Sánchez de Toca, who rejected "outdated liberalisms" as a solution to the problem of terrorism, in DSS (June 5, 1923), 1:60.

49. El Liberal, June 10, 1923, p. 1.

50. DSC (June 5, 1923), 1:176-77.

51. See, for example, Rafael Guerra del Rio, ibid. (June 1, 1923), 1:130-36; Marcelino Domingo, ibid. (June 21, 1923), 2:481-86.

52. For Primo's background and early career, see Francisco Cimadevilla, El general Primo de Rivera.

53. Gabriel Maura Gamazo, duque de Maura, Bosquejo histórico de la dictadura, 1923-1930, pp. 23-24; Francisco Hernández Mir, La dictadura ante la historia, pp. 34-35.

54. See his letter to Cambó in January 1923 in Pabón, Cambó, 2 (1):427.

55. The correspondence is in El Sol, June 16, 1923, p. 3.

56. El Liberal, June 29, 1923, p. 1.

57. Miguel Primo de Rivera y Orbaneja, La obra de la dictadura, p. 12.

58. El Heraldo, June 23, 1923, p. 1.

59. Hernández Mir, Dictadura, p. 30.

60. Romanones, Obras, 3:420.

61. El Liberal, June 24, 1923, p. 3.

62. See DSC (1923), 2:663, 805. The Responsibilities Commission, elected July 10, included 7 Liberals (Sagasta, Morote, Fernández Jiménez, Palacios,García Inza, Zancada, and Soto Reguera); 4 Conservatives (Rodríguez de Viguri, Ruaño, Alas Pumariño, and Taboada); 2 Ciervists (Díez de Revengaand Rodríguez Valdés); 1 Maurist (Lequerica); 1 Traditionalist (García Guijarro); 2 Republicans (Domingo and Rodés); 2 Socialists (Prieto and De los Ríos); and Independents (Tejero and Martínez Campos). Ibid., 3:847. The Socialist Julián Besteiro was elected to replace Rodés on July 20.

63. Dámaso Berenguer y Fuste, conde de Xauen, Campañas en el Rif y Yebala, 1921-1922. It was reviewed critically by Manuel Azana in España, July 14-Sept. 15, 1923.

64. El Liberal, Apr. 26, 1923, p. 1.

65. DSS (June 5, 1923), 1:56.

66. See Tomás Maestre in ibid. (June 27, 1923), 1:359-74.

67. El Liberal, June 28, 1923, p. 2.

68. DSS (June 28, 1923), 1:402-8.

69. Ibid. (July3, 1923), 1:424.

70. See RA, leg. 5, no. 5; Romanones, Obras, 3:420-22.

71. DSS (July 5, 1923), 2:474-79. The Aguilera-Sánchez de Toca incident has been examined by Ricardo de la Cierva y de Hoces in "La dialéctica de las bofetadas."

72. See El Liberal, July 7, 1923, p. 1; El Heraldo, July 6, 1923, p. 1; EE, July 9,1923, p. 1.

73. Manuel Tuñón de Lara, La España del siglo XX, p. 121, n. 2.

74. El Liberal, June 26, 1923, p. 1.

75. Ramón Martínez Sol, De Canalejas al tribunal de responsabilidades, pp.54-55.

76. Gabriel Maura Gamazo, Bosquejo histórico de la dictadura, pp. 20-21.

77. Manuel Aguirre del Cárcer, Glosa del año 23, p. 177.

78. El Liberal, Aug. 14, 1923, p. 1; the plan of operations is in RA, leg. 58,no. 37.

79. El Liberal, Aug. 5, 1923, p. 1.

80. CM, Aug. 31,1923, p. 1.

81. See, for example, the remarks in EE, Aug. 14, 1923, p. 1.

82. El Liberal, Aug. 19-23, 1923, p. 1.

83. Meaker, Revolutionary Left, pp. 469-72.

84. See El Liberal, Aug. 29, 1923, p. 1; CM, Sept. 1, 1923, p. 1.

85. Alba, Dictature, pp. 23-24.

86. The three dissenting ministers were replaced by Manuel Portela Valladares in Development, Felix Suárez-Inclán in Finance, and Luis de Armiñán in Labor.

87. El Liberal, Sept. 5, 1923, p. 1.

88. See Pablo Iglesias in ibid., Sept. 4, 1923, p. 1; El Sol, Sept. 4, 1923, p. 1.

89. El Liberal, Sept. 4, 1923, p. 1.