[183] There was no reason to suspect, in the beginning, that Anual would be any more fatal for Spain than Adowa had been for Italy, or Fashoda, for France. Indeed, in the immediate aftermath of the disaster, most of the country rallied behind the government and the army in their effort to regain the territory and prestige lost at Anual. Nevertheless, Anual would ultimately destroy the parliamentary regime. Even before the initial shock had dissipated, the defeat became the occasion for bitter debate between the antagonists whose conflicts had dominated Spanish political life since 1917: between dynasties and antidynastics, between junteros and africanistas, and most ominously, between the civil state and the military.

Had the dynastic parties been able to provide strong leadership during the months when public opinion was still inflamed over the "betrayal" of Abd el-Krim, the struggle might not have taken on its apocalyptic character. Instead, they contributed to the polarization of the country by following the same vacillating and secretive policies that had always characterized the Spanish presence in Morocco, neither supporting the army's demand for a rapid conquest of the entire zone nor responding to the extensive abandonista sentiment in the nation. By trying to maintain a middle course, the Maura coalition government satisfied none of its critics and guaranteed the prolongation of the war.

The middle course embraced by Maura represented not a consensus but a compromise between the unresolved conflicts over Moroccan policy within the government and the nation. In order to preserve the fiction of a united front, Maura felt obliged to discourage parliamentary debate on military policy and on responsibility for the disaster. This disregard for public opinion, so congenial to Maura himself, only added another source of tension within the coalition, however. Weakened by its internal contradictions and lacking strong support either in the country or in the army, the last coalition government of the parliamentary monarchy disintegrated in March 1922, laying bare the isolation of [184] the dynastic parties from much of the country. The following eighteen months would find those parties making a belated and feeble attempt to adjust to the altered reality of Spanish political life, an attempt cut short by the military pronunciamiento of September 1923.

The Reaction to Anual

As soon as the magnitude of the Anual debacle became clear, the quest for "responsibilities" began. Like "regeneration" in 1898 and "renovation" in 1917, "responsibilities" became a code word for political and social reform. By providing a single focus for the welter of political conflicts that had emerged since 1917, the disaster gave them a new intensity. After Anual, the Moroccan campaign finally became the center of public debate. Ironically, however, policy issues continued to take second place to the political capital that could be made out of the arguments they generated.

Once it had overcome its initial surprise and confusion, the Allendesalazar government responded to the news of the disaster with more resignation than remorse. Like nearly all its predecessors, the cabinet had provided unenthusiastic but unquestioning support for the military campaign in the Protectorate. ⁽¹⁾ Faced now with the collapse of the entire eastern sector, the government did not pause to reevaluate the extent or character of Spanish colonial policy; instead, the setback was officially interpreted as an unfortunate personal error on the part of General Silvestre, to be made right by a renewed effort by the army and the nation. ⁽²⁾ To control rumor-mongering, the government established prior censorship on July 26, authorizing only the publication of official notes from Morocco. ⁽³⁾

The government's fears of antiwar protests duplicating those of 1909 did not materialize, however, because the left had been seriously weakened by internal schism in the summer of 1921. Although miners and metalworkers in Bilbao responded to the Communists' call for a national general strike on July 27 to protest the call-up of troops, the recent split in the Socialist party localized the strike. In Barcelona, Martínez Anido's iron control over the city kept the CNT in check. The fragmented Republican forces, deprived of their best-known national leader by the defection of Alejandro Lerroux, an ardent supporter of the Moroccan Protectorate, lacked the organizational strength to mobilize a mass protest. ⁽⁴⁾ In the absence of leadership, the working class responded with resignation and, in some cases, with enthusiasm, to [185] the mobilization; Tercio recruiters in Barcelona, for example, reported an increase in volunteers. ⁽⁵⁾

The middle and upper classes met the challenge with patriotic fervor, even though the mobilization orders included all trained recruits from 1918, 1919, and 1920, including the quota soldiers. Huge crowds turned out to cheer the first battalions from Madrid as they boarded trains for the coast clutching the religious medals bestowed on them by aristocratic socialites. In large and small provincial cities, young ladies of "good family" sponsored benefits and swamped seamstresses with orders for Red Cross uniforms, in imitation of Queen Victoria Eugenia, who became honorary president of the organization. In a belated attempt to redress the lack of essential supplies so long denied the African army, voluntary funds were established for hospitals, linens, cigarettes, and even airplanes. The Marqués de Comillas's Compañía Transmediterránea offered free transportation for packages sent to the troops; the Sociedad El Seguro Tarrasense pledged to care for the wounded who returned to the peninsula. After years of indifference, Spain's upper classes suddenly found Morocco worthy of their attention. The war was the cause of the year. ⁽⁶⁾

Once it became clear that the nation would support the war effort, the government relaxed its control over the press, retaining censorship only over military reports from the front. Within a few weeks, several identifiable groups of critics had emerged to challenge the government's view that responsibility for the disaster lay wholly with Silvestre: the Liberals, still supportive of General Berenguer and his policies, but eager to cast blame on the Conservatives; the anti-Berenguer forces, which included many senior generals in the peninsula; the junteros, who blamed both the African army and the senior hierarchy; the africanistas, who blamed the Juntas; and the extreme left, whose indictment encompassed the entire regime, and in particular, the king and the army.

Because they had no vested interests to defend, the Socialists and the Republican left continued to be the most effective critics of the Moroccan fiasco. Too divided to organize a mass protest, they were able to mount an impressive publicity campaign against the war and in favor of "responsibilities." Their chief strength lay in their freedom to criticize the system, and especially the king, whom they considered personally responsible for the disaster. While the dynastic parties were hobbled by the necessity of defending the regime, the antidynastic left were able to interpret the failure in Morocco as merely the most tragic example of the general incapacity of the Spanish state. ⁽⁷⁾ Insulated from [186] responsibility for the disaster by their past exclusion from the system, the left monopolized the cloak of morality and emerged as the most effective bloc in the Cortes after it opened in October 1921. Thus, while the overall strength of the left was diminished by schism and repression in 1921 and 1922, the moral authority and political leverage of the parliamentary delegations was enhanced. Indeed, the responsibilities campaign represented the final attempt of the democratic left to broaden the political base of the parliamentary monarchy. ⁽⁸⁾

The regime proved easiest to attack through the army, whose failure at Anual, in spite of the "reform" law of 1918, was patent. As the Socialist deputy Indalecio Prieto observed on August 7, Anual was the price for dependency on the army -- by the right and occasionally by the left -- a dependency that had made real military reform impossible. ⁽⁹⁾ Both the Juntas de Defensa and the never-ending Moroccan war were merely symbolic of a more general structural weakness in the Restoration system, the inevitable by-products of an overprotected army in an undemocratic regime. By identifying its interests with those of the army instead of those of the nation, the regime had lost its justification for being.

If the left chose to attack the army and its various factions indiscriminately, for other interest groups the split between junteros and africanistas within the officer corps offered the possibility of selective attack and defense. Predictably, the Juntas received the most criticism, particularly from the liberal africanista press (El Sol, El Heraldo, and Diario Universal) and from the elderly lieutenant generals who had been pushed aside by the Juntas in 1917. The Juntas were blamed for the demoralization, disorganization, and fragmentation of the officer corps, for the budgetary neglect of the African army, and for the abolition of merit promotions that had removed the incentives for valor and sacrifice. The disaster at Anual gave substance to the charges that had been leveled against the Juntas for the past four years, and their opponents luxuriated in their role as vindicated prophets. ⁽¹⁰⁾

The appearance of a selective offense, of course, immediately divided the officer corps, whose first response had been to close ranks and to attribute the defeat to governmental neglect and "Moorish cowardice and treachery." ⁽¹¹⁾ Almost unanimously, the officer corps regarded a renewal of the war effort as essential to avenge the honor of the army. As the Juntas began to draw fire, however, La Correspondencia Militar began to temper its enthusiasm for the Moroccan campaign with criticism of General Berenguer, a strategy that diverted attention to theories of colonial warfare while winning the Juntas some badly needed allies.

[187] Berenguer was already under attack by the left for his conduct of the war in general and for his relationship with Silvestre in particular. ⁽¹²⁾ La Correspondencia Militar focused its attack on his policy of political attraction and on his dependence on native troops, thus resuscitating the conflict between the partisans of Silvestre and those of Gabriel Morales in the Melilla Command before Anual. ⁽¹³⁾ Juntero opinion supported those who had advocated military action "a la tremenda" over the scientific approach to warfare, a position advocated even more strenuously after the surrender of Monte Arruit and the slaughter of most of its defenders on August 12. Although Berenguer had excellent reasons for refusing to send a rescue column -- his troops were raw and the route to Monte Arruit was dominated by the tribesmen on Monte Gurugú -- his decision was widely resented in the officer corps, whose members feared it cast an unfavorable reflection on their manhood. Within the Melilla Command, the dissidents kept their views to themselves, voting unanimously with Berenguer to order a surrender. In the peninsula, officers who had never given a moment's thought to theories of colonial warfare now demonstrated the keenest interest in explaining their considered views to the press. The fate of Monte Arruit gave the senior generals who had resented the elevation of a mere division general to the post of High Commissioner their first opportunity to criticize Berenguer on a policy matter. Even Berenguer's patron, General Luque, felt obliged to condemn his caution as unworthy of "virile nations." ⁽¹⁴⁾ Also joining the critics was General Weyler. The General Staff had been denied competence over Morocco since January 1918, an exclusion that Weyler, as its chief, felt as a personal affront. Events had now presented him with an opportunity for revenge.

Berenguer's severest critics, however, were not the elderly Restoration generals, but his rivals among the division generals, Ricardo Burguete and Miguel Primo de Rivera. The three were contemporaries, graduates of the AGM, veterans of the colonial wars in America and Africa, each professionally ambitious and successful. Since 1919, however, Berenguer had won admiration, prestige, and respect as High Commissioner in Africa, while Burguete and Primo de Rivera had been reduced to intriguing with the Juntas in the peninsula. After the collapse of the Melilla Command, each saw an opportunity to improve his own position at Berenguer's expense by appealing to the peninsular resentment of the africanistas.

Burguete moved immediately. As a military theorist with well-known views on the inferiority of "science" to courage and will, Burguete saw the Anual debacle as a personal vindication and had expected to be appointed Commander General of Melilla following the [188] death of Silvestre. ⁽¹⁵⁾ Instead, the government had appointed General José Cavalcanti, a Cavalry officer known for his courage and impetuosity. Thus thwarted, Burguete initiated a critical campaign against Berenguer in the pages of El Debate, the organ of the Catholic right, which was traditionally opposed to temporizing of any sort, whether with Moorish rebels or Spanish leftists. ⁽¹⁶⁾ Although the new Minister of War, La Cierva, attempted to placate Burguete by appointing him Military Governor of Madrid in October, the volatile general continued to act as a gadfly in the press and among the Junta leadership in Madrid. ⁽¹⁷⁾

General Primo de Rivera, more tactful and less frustrated than Burguete, at first refrained from criticizing the government or the campaign. As Captain General of Madrid, he was close to the center of power; in September his cooperation in the mobilization effort was rewarded by the grant of a tax-free grandeza on the title of Marqués de Estella, which he had recently inherited from his uncle. Although he continued to intrigue with the Juntas, ⁽¹⁸⁾ his abandonista sentiments, which had cost him his job in February 1917, did not surface until late November, when during the course of a speech in the Senate (he was an elected senator from Cadiz), he announced that "to have one soldier on the other bank of the Straits is strategically a weakness for Spain." ⁽¹⁹⁾ Immediately deprived of his command, he remained idle in Madrid until his appointment as Captain General of Barcelona by the new prime minister, Sánchez Guerra, in March 1922.

The attack initiated by the antiafricanista and anti-Berenguer forces within the officer corps was viewed providentially by the Allendesalazar government, whose members -- especially the War Minister, the Vizconde de Eza -- were anxious to absolve themselves of responsibility for the disaster. At the end of July, Eza asked Berenguer's approval for an investigation of military responsibilities, a proposal immediately embraced by the High Commissioner. ⁽²⁰⁾ On August 4 Eza appointed General Juan Picasso, a member of the Supreme Military Council, to head a commission to "clarify . . . the antecedents and circumstances that contributed to the abandonment of the positions. . . ." ⁽²¹⁾ A highly decorated Staff officer who had served with Berenguer as Undersecretary in the War Ministry in 1918, Picasso was expected to limit his investigation to the obvious cases of dishonorable conduct during the panicky retreat from Anual. By offering a few junior officers as sacrificial lambs, the government hoped to meet the widespread demand for responsibilities without endangering Berenguer's prestige or the ultimate success of the African campaign.

Both the Allendesalazar government and the Maura government [189] that succeeded it were convinced that Spain's international reputation, as well as the prestige of the monarchy itself, depended on a rapid recuperation of the lost territory. Accordingly, they refused General Berenguer's resignation, tendered the same day as Picasso's appointment. Berenguer had proven his competence as a colonial officer in the campaign against al-Raysuni, and his departure would have demoralized the elite units that were to spearhead the recuperation campaign. But by retaining Berenguer, the Conservatives were forced to deny the existence of higher responsibilities for the disaster at Anual, a congenial but indefensible position. In December 1922 the party would succumb to the national clamor for a political accounting.

Junteros and Africanistas

Having decided to spare Berenguer to save the war and thus, the regime, the Allendesalazar government sacrificed itself, resigning on August 12 after the fall of Monte Arruit. The new cabinet, headed by Antonio Maura, was a dynastic coalition like the National Government of 1918, a crisis solution that tacitly recognized the joint responsibility of Liberals and Conservatives for Moroccan policy since 1909. Precisely for this reason, the Reformists, invited for the first time to participate in a cabinet, refused to collaborate. As Melquíades Alvarez pointed out in a letter of August 15 to Maura, "the only ones who could legitimately avoid this responsibility were ourselves and all those in our situation, for the very reason that we had not participated in the Government at any time." ⁽²²⁾ Instead, the Reformists strengthened their ties with Santiago Alba, forming a left-Liberal bloc that remained outside the coalition. Of the Liberals, only Romanones -- who in any case had been excluded from the Alba-Alvarez consortium -- contributed representatives to the cabinet. ⁽²³⁾

The heterogeneous cabinet united around the limited platform outlined by Maura: the recuperation of the territory and prestige lost at Anual. ⁽²⁴⁾ But once this initial objective had been attained, the coalition of 1921, like the National Government of 1918, would be torn apart by irreconcilable internal differences over domestic and foreign policy. The Maura government of 1921-22 was thus the final attempt to restore the old union of Liberals and Conservatives that had once kept the turno running smoothly. A new realignment of forces in Spanish society had pulled apart the center that had anchored the Restoration system; the Anual disaster could provide no more than a temporary cement. As the imminent danger receded, the disaster that had briefly [190] united the nation would begin to divide it, and a new arrangement of political forces and interest groups would tentatively emerge. Unable or unwilling to countenance such a restructuring, Maura would fall.

The new "Reconquest" catapulted the War Minister, Juan de la Cierva, back into national prominence. Once called upon to deal with the Juntas, La Cierva now had to restore the morale and the fighting capacity of the African army. In the process, he also became an opponent of the Juntas, a champion of total military occupation of the Protectorate, the government's bulwark against the clamor for responsibilities, and an adversary of any redefinition of the Restoration system. In fact, La Cierva, not the increasingly cynical and fatalistic Maura, was the soul of the 1921 cabinet.

La Cierva's first goal \vas to restore the shattered morale of the remnants of the Melilla garrison, whose performance at Anual was the target of both civilian and military critics. Most demoralizing was the ostentatious contempt of the officers in the expeditionary forces arriving daily in Melilla from the peninsula, many of whom were active junteros only too willing to vaunt their presumed moral superiority over their traditional rivals. ⁽²⁵⁾ Although Maura and the king proposed a dissolution of the Juntas (technically, the Advisory Commissions), La Cierva -- probably correctly -- insisted that a frontal attack would only compound the problem. Instead, he attempted to localize the conflict. After prohibiting officers from publishing comments on current military operations, ⁽²⁶⁾ he allowed two members of the Infantry Directory to go to Melilla, where they spent their energies disputing with General Picasso and the local honor courts the right to prosecute cases of dishonorable conduct. ⁽²⁷⁾

La Cierva also had to restrain General Picasso, who was displaying more zeal for his task than either the War Minister or the High Commissioner thought appropriate. After receiving a long questionnaire on August 15, Berenguer refused to cooperate, arguing that an investigation of his policies would undermine his credibility as Commander-in-Chief. In response, La Cierva issued an order, dated August 24, prohibiting Picasso from examining "the accords, plans, and orders of the High Commissioner . . . ," an order he repeated, with only slight modifications, on September 1. To impress even further the limits of his jurisdiction on the disgruntled Picasso, La Cierva subsumed the entire investigation under Berenguer's authority as General-in-Chief of the African army on September 6. ⁽²⁸⁾ Berenguer was thus apparently freed, by executive order, from responsibility for the disaster in the Rif.

La Cierva showed the same decisiveness in rebuilding the African army. Cautious as ever, Berenguer refused to begin operations until he [191] could be confident of success. Since the disaster, the situation in the entire Protectorate had deteriorated: al-Raysuni, saved from capture by the opportune victory of Abd el-Krim, had recovered his ascendancy over the tribes around Xauen; in the Ghumara, Abd el-Krim's brother was preaching a jihad against the Spanish. Even to return to the status quo prior to Anual required a significant increase in military forces. To give Berenguer the resources he needed, La Cierva resorted to executive decrees; by the end of the year, there were 160,000 Spanish soldiers in Morocco, and extraordinary credits amounted to 419 million pesetas. ⁽²⁹⁾ Because peninsular officers continued to exhibit their traditional lack of enthusiasm for colonial campaigning, all officers were prohibited from returning to the peninsula upon completion of their two-year tours and from going off the active list without pay. ⁽³⁰⁾

Although most of his new troops were poorly trained, Berenguer began operations in the Rif on September 8 with an army of thirty-six thousand men in order to placate La Cierva and the revanchists in the Spanish press. Because Abd el-Krim's haraka had retired inland to the mountains, where they fortified their line and concentrated on propaganda among the Rif tribes, ⁽³¹⁾ the Spanish advanced rapidly, almost without opposition. By September 17 they were once again in Nador; from there, battalions of Regulars and the Tercio fanned out, retaking the strategically significant Monte Gurugú on October 10.

The rapidity of the reconquest gratified the nation, which eagerly embraced the opportunity to dwell on heroism rather than disgrace. The colorful leaders of the vanguard units were lionized in the africanista press: General José Sanjurjo, who wore a striped pajama top and Moorish slippers during operations; Lieutenant Colonel Millán-Astray, the founder of the Tercio, wounded during the capture of Nador; his dashing young subordinates, Majors Santiago González-Tablas and Francisco Franco, who were present at every new advance into the Rif. Major Franco acquired even greater prominence after the publication of his book, Marruecos: Diario de una bandera, in which praise for the African army was intermingled with scathing criticism of the peninsular bureaucrats in the Juntas:

what improves the quality (of the troops] is the selection of cadres, the ability to bring them an enthusiastic and valorous officer corps that will educate them in a creed of ideals, that does not need to be sustained with some fistsful of pesetas. It is necessary to have a stimulus, that officers specialize in warfare, that they know the enemy, that they not dream of the moment they can return to the Peninsula, having completed their enforced term. Only a just [192] reward can, in this age of positivism, conserve in Africa the cadres of officers appropriate for shock units. ⁽³²⁾

The Juntas had not been able to turn the defeat at Anual to their own advantage. On the contrary, they had been blamed for most of the army's material and moral defects. In September the Infantry Junta had been forced to elect a new president after it was revealed that the old president, Colonel Silverio Araujo, had surrendered without a fight to the Moroccan rebels during the disaster and was being held for ransom by Abd el-Krim. ⁽³⁴⁾ Later that month, the new president, Colonel Lacanal, was humiliated when he and two other officers failed to secure transit for a supply convoy to the base at Tizza. The Spanish forces incurred fifteen hundred casualties before the Commander General of Melilla, General Cavalcanti, personally led a group of Regulars and Engineers through the line. ⁽³⁵⁾ Back in Melilla, Cavalcanti sharply criticized the conduct of Colonel Lacanal. To avoid another public disgrace, the Infantry Advisory Commission counterattacked by accusing Cavalcanti of rash conduct inappropriate in a commanding officer.

Cavalcanti's conduct probably deserved a reprimand, although it was consistent with his past record. Like many small, proud men, Cavalcanti had made a career of his bravery. As a young lieutenant colonel, he had led a glorious charge at Taxdirt during the 1909 campaign and had been rewarded with a Laurel Wreath, his first title of nobility, and the admiration and friendship of the king, who gave him his second title in 1919. Like Silvestre, his great friend, he had been somewhat unenthusiastic about the careful campaign of political preparation waged by Berenguer, and like Silvestre, he acted impulsively when courage was required. Since his gallantry at Tizza had undoubtedly saved many lives, it was vigorously applauded in the africanista press. This was enough to convince La Cierva. On October 20, after a firsthand consultation with General Berenguer in Melilla, La Cierva [193] recommended Cavalcanti for a second Laurel Wreath and removed Colonel Lacanal, together with the two other officers, General Carlos Tuero and Colonel Juan Sirvent, from their commands.

Stimulated by the apparent success of his African policy, La Cierva did not hesitate to antagonize juntero opinion even further. In early October he used his patronage power to place the son of a political client in a comfortable medical post in Melilla, a blatant example of favoritism that drew a protest from the Medical Corps Advisory Commission. Having secured the support of the other Commissions, the Medical Junta threatened to try the young officer, Captain Fontes, in an honor court. ⁽³⁶⁾ About the same time, La Cierva revealed his intention to secure merit promotions for a number of prominent africanistas from the western sector once the Cortes had reopened. Disregarding the fact that he had sponsored the reform law that had abolished most merit promotions in 1918, La Cierva now insisted that success in Africa depended on a fair system of rewards for the officer corps. For the Juntas, however, merit promotions still connoted favoritism and injustice.

Prior censorship had been reestablished at the commencement of operations on September 8. When the government restored freedom of the press on October 20, the day the Cortes opened, the mounting tension between La Cierva and the Advisory Commissions exploded into open hostility. On the twenty-first, four Madrid dailies published rumors of a twenty-four-hour ultimatum imposed on La Cierva by the Juntas. ⁽³⁷⁾ Responding with characteristic vigor, La Cierva firmly denied the reports and ordered two of the editors indicted for violation of the Law of Jurisdictions. But although the bearers of the message might be punished, the news was still bad. The next day, the Advisory Commissions issued a joint statement of solidarity, and the Captain General of Madrid, Primo de Rivera, seized the opportunity to sympathize publicly with their grievances. ⁽³⁸⁾ At the same time, the smoldering conflict between the junteros and the africanistas was ignited by a letter from General Miguel Cabanellas, the commander of a Cavalry brigade in Melilla, whose forces had just recaptured the fortress of Zeluan. Overcome by the sight of five hundred mutilated Spanish cadavers, victims of the abortive surrender the previous August, Cabanellas had dashed off an indignant letter of reproach to the presidents of the Advisory Commissions, blaming them for the poor quality of the Spanish army, and thus, for the disaster at Anual. ⁽³⁹⁾ Released for publication, the letter produced an enormous sensation, particularly because photographs of the massacred Spaniards were beginning to appear in the illustrated weeklies.

[194] The Juntas' public quarrel with La Cierva and the letter from Cabanellas revived the issue of military interference in politics. Demands for decisive action against the Advisory Commissions appeared in the africanista press and in the Cortes. The other side of the argument, however, was civilian political interference in purely military matters. The continuing vitality of the Juntas, in the face of overwhelming civilian and military opposition, was due to the persistence of the abuses that they had been formed to combat -- in particular, favoritism and personalism in the War Ministry and the palace. The official note of the Advisory Commissions, in which they claimed to have redeemed the army from "the caciquismo of the camarillas, from injustice, from adulation . . . and from a despotic, tyrannical, and ignorant command," suggested that they were also aware of this basic strength. ⁽⁴⁰⁾ Coupled with the endemic weakness of civilian government, this shred of legitimacy continued to provide the Juntas with enough leverage within the officer corps to impose their will, or at the very least, to limit the freedom of action of the government. Civilian government would be strong enough to challenge the Juntas when it could confront them with a clear conscience.

Such was not the case in October 1921. Both La Cierva and the king had ostentatiously favored the africanistas in ways that had little to do with military efficiency or victory in Morocco. Accordingly, against all his instincts, La Cierva was forced to compromise. Captain Fontes was transferred back to his original post; Lacanal, Tuero, and Sirvent were reinstated pending further investigation of the Tizza incident. ⁽⁴¹⁾ The case of General Cabanellas, however, was less easy to resolve because of the widespread sympathy for his outburst. Clearly, his letter had violated La Cierva's order against military commentaries on the war; other formal charges against the general were quickly filed by the Advisory Commissions. ⁽⁴²⁾ On November 14 La Cierva finally relieved Cabanellas of his command, softening the blow by dissolving his brigade on the pretext it was not needed. ⁽⁴³⁾ On Berenguer's recommendation, Cabanellas remained in Melilla in order to avoid drawing attention to his case. ⁽⁴⁴⁾ But although he was later given a new command, Cabanellas appeared to be an innocent lamb sacrificed on the altar of the Juntas de Defensa. Throughout the fall, the battle between junteros and africanistas continued to distract attention from and distort the outlines of the more urgent problems of Moroccan policy and responsibilities.
 
[195]The Cortes of 1921

The first session of the Cortes after Anual was alternately awaited with impatience or with dread, but nearly everyone shared the assumption that the Cortes would deal effectively with the responsibilities question. The outcome, however, was far different. The autumn session of the Cortes of 1921 proved to be the legislative counterpart of Maura's coalition government -- a final attempt to preserve the gentlemen's agreement between the dynastic parties. The still-recent disaster and the ongoing recuperation campaign provided a temporary adhesive for the centrifugal tendencies that would emerge once the crisis had lost its immediacy. But although the dynastic politicians closed ranks to avoid discussion of the divisive Moroccan problem, critics of the army and the regime made it impossible for the evasion to escape unnoticed. The left was still limited to a negative role, but growing middle-class alienation from the war made it possible for them to establish the principle of popular consent more firmly than ever before.

The Cortes opened as scheduled on October 20, 1921. Maura was under some pressure from La Cierva to suspend the sessions in order to protect the African army from potentially demoralizing criticism, a sentiment shared by the extreme right. El Debate editorialized on September 28: "The present [hour] is the hour of action; the hour of the military and not of the orators. . . . All that about the democratic opinion that clamors, and the spirit of liberty that revives, and the liberal Spain that comes out of its lethargy is pure folly, and vulgar to boot." ⁽⁴⁵⁾ For the right, the Moroccan war, like the social crisis, was a national emergency that was beyond the limited capacity of parliamentary institutions to resolve.

For Maura, however, there had been little choice. For one thing, in spite of the contempt expressed by El Debate, public opinion -- and not just on the left -- was overwhelmingly in favor of parliamentary scrutiny of the causes of the disaster. For another, the left, absent from the cabinet, could not be denied access to the parliament as well. Finally, his cabinet lacked the internal cohesion necessary to govern without legislative support. Like the country itself, the government was divided over the future course of action in the Protectorate. In August all had been agreed that the "honor of the armed forces and national prestige" required the reconquest of the territory around Melilla. ⁽⁴⁶⁾ But as the African army rapidly advanced toward the Kert River, the cabinet had split. One group, led by La Cierva, argued that the expeditionary forces must be allowed to carry the forward line to its former position preparatory to a total military occupation of the [196] Protectorate. Anything less would mean loss of the zone, first to Abd el-Krim, then to the French. The other group favored a more limited Spanish presence in Morocco: military occupation of the coast accompanied by a policy of "political attraction" in the interior. This faction included Maura, the Minister of Finance, Francisco Cambó, who was alarmed by the mounting military expenditures in Africa, ⁽⁴⁷⁾ and the Minister of State, Manuel González Hontoria, a career diplomat long convinced of the necessity of a civil reorientation in the Protectorate. Unable to resolve their differences, the cabinet agreed to postpone their decision until the army reached Dar Drius, Silvestre's starting point in 1920.

Maura's position was difficult. Forced to open the Cortes to deal with the national crisis, he was uncertain of his ability to mobilize a majority to support a concrete plan of action in the Protectorate because of the lack of a consensus within his own cabinet. As a consequence, his inaugural statement on October 20 was deliberately vague, his refusal to specify the government's intentions, absolute. ⁽⁴⁸⁾ The public, however, was eager for meaningful debate, a mood exploited skilfully by both the extreme left and the left Liberals, who saw an opportunity to build a new parliamentary majority on the "liberal" issue of popular sovereignty. On November 15 Santiago Alba and the Reformist leader Melquíades Álvarez introduced a motion demanding military reform, a "civil" Protectorate, and "responsibilities," a maneuver designed to prove their own liberal credentials as well as to discredit the Conde de Romanones, who had contributed two members to the Maura cabinet. ⁽⁴⁹⁾ Romanones, who had staked his own claim on these issues since 1919, was forced to endorse the motion to retain his credibility as a liberal. A cabinet crisis was averted only by Maura's refusal to interpret a vote in favor of the motion as a vote of no confidence. The cabinet thus survived, but the incident indicated the extent to which public opinion could be mobilized by the left to drive a wedge between the dynastic parties.

The responsibilities question proved a more reliable cement for the "dynastic interests" than the Moroccan war. From the outset, it was clear that no one in a position of authority would be held to account for the disaster at Anual. Because both Liberals and Conservatives had governed since the appointment of General Berenguer as High Commissioner in 1919, neither party was eager to charge him -- and by implication, themselves -- with negligence. From this perspective, Berenguer's continuing appointment as Commander-in-Chief of an "army in operations" was providential, for it enabled the dynastic [197] politicians to label adverse comments on his past policies as "seditious." Berenguer's utility to the regime was thus grounded in more than his competence as a colonial officer.

To deflect attention from Berenguer, the government tolerated criticism of the Melilla garrison and of the Juntas de Defensa, one of the few targets that inspired general condemnation. ⁽⁵⁰⁾ Everyone agreed that the Juntas were the source of the financial and professional constraints that had hampered the effectiveness of the African army, just as they agreed that their political meddling had made efficient government more difficult since 1917. But the majority premise was that the Juntas were an exotic aberration in an otherwise sound system. Only the Socialists and the Republican left argued that the Juntas -- and the Moroccan war -- were the logical products of a weak and cowardly parliamentary system bullied by an army in league with the king. ⁽⁵¹⁾ The left's attempts to attribute the ultimate responsibility to Alfonso were received with exceptional hostility by both Liberals and Conservatives; under the Constitution of 1876, the monarchy was beyond discussion or criticism.

The outstanding figure in these debates was La Cierva, whose antipathy to the responsibilities campaign was both ideological and personal. (Minister of Development in the Allendesalazar government of 1921, La Cierva was a potential defendant in any investigation.) As Minister of War in the fall of 1921, his unwavering policy was to deny all accusations (including those aimed at the Juntas), to admit no criticism, and above all, to protect General Berenguer from the Cortes just as he had protected him from General Picasso. At a time when recognition of past errors might have satisfied much of the nation, La Cierva encouraged the Conservative majority to imitate his belligerent impenitence. As a consequence, they forfeited the responsibilities issue to the Liberals and the left and, somewhat deservedly, acquired a reputation as opponents of parliamentary sovereignty.

The frustration induced by the Conservative evasion of responsibilities turned to outrage when La Cierva read his military promotions bill in the Congress on October 25. ⁽⁵²⁾ Undoubtedly, he would have preferred an executive order, but his own reform law of 1918 had curbed ministerial discretion by requiring legislative approval for all merit promotions. Ironically, La Cierva now found himself the first victim of the law. Undeterred by ironies, however, La Cierva forged ahead, anxious to assure the africanistas in the officer corps of his support. The bill promoted fifteen officers, including General Berenguer, to the next highest rank for merits earned in the western sector prior to [198] the disaster at Anual. In November 1921 most of those recommended were in the expeditionary forces spearheading the advance into the Rif.

At least some of these officers deserved promotion. If the African campaign was to be successful, rewards for outstanding performance in the field were mandatory. But the government found it impossible to overcome the public association of merit promotions with political favoritism, an association the Juntas made haste to encourage. In addition, the Socialists mobilized opinion against the bill by arguing that awarding promotions before assigning responsibilities, particularly in the case of General Berenguer, was an affront to the country and its armed forces. ⁽⁵³⁾ Above all, the promotions represented contempt for the responsibilities investigation then underway in the Cortes.

At La Cierva's insistence, debate on the promotions bill opened in the Cortes on November 30. He had secured the acquiescence of the principal Liberal leaders after he threatened to make it a vote of no confidence. ⁽⁵⁴⁾ Nevertheless, many Liberal deputies were sensitive to the issues raised by the Socialists. After two days of devastating criticism directed against some of the names on the promotions list by Indalecio Prieto, La Cierva was forced to table the bill. ⁽⁵⁵⁾ Under some pressure from the africanistas to grant the promotions by decree, ⁽⁵⁶⁾ La Cierva apparently broached the subject with the cabinet, for on December 20 there were rumors of a crisis over the issue. ⁽⁵⁷⁾ But La Cierva was unable to defy the nation and the constitution with a decree, as he had in March 1918. Anual had aroused a large segment of the country out of its traditional apathy toward the parliamentary prerogative. On the whole, his efforts to enhance the prestige of the africanistas had backfired. The chances for a restoration of merit promotions in the near future were minimal.

The Ransom of the Prisoners

The failure of the promotions bill was not the only indication that the government was isolated from national opinion. Two other issues -- the ransom of the prisoners held by Abd el-Krim and the quota soldiers -- acquired increasing importance as the recuperation campaign continued into the winter of 1921-22. On these issues, the government found itself caught between the African army and much of the nation, including the hitherto apathetic middle classes. As the Socialists had been predicting since the 1890s, the middle class developed an interest in military and colonial policy as soon as its own sons [199] were forced to serve. By 1921, however, the army had grown too accustomed to its autonomy to countenance civilian interference readily. Throughout 1922 the growing polarization of the army and the middle class added resonance to the traditional antimilitarism of the left. The beneficiaries of this antagonism were the Liberals and center-left, who from the opposition were able to capitalize on the growing middle-class weariness with the Moroccan campaign.

The ransom issue acquired prominence during the first week in December, immediately after the defeat of the promotions bill. Encouraged by this victory, the left-Liberal coalition seized the opportunity to exploit a highly emotional situation; on December 2 the Reformists introduced a motion in the Cortes to give highest governmental priority to the ransom of the prisoners. ⁽⁵⁸⁾ La Cierva was able to forestall debate on the grounds that a solution was in progress. ⁽⁵⁹⁾ But in reality the government was unable to find a way out of its dilemma. Negotiations for the release of the seven hundred men and four hundred women and children at Ajdir had been initiated with Abd el-Krim in August, but the Riffian leader had deliberately set his terms impossibly high: four million pesetas, plus the release of all Moroccan prisoners of war. Quite rightly fearing that the money would buy more arms for the rebellion they were trying to suppress, the government had rejected Abd el-Krim's terms. Another stumbling block was the attitude of the African army, unalterably opposed to any solution but a military one. For this reason, La Cierva had discouraged a number of private initiatives to secure the release of the captives. ⁽⁶⁰⁾ The difficulty was that there was no realistic hope of mounting a military offensive against the rebels' stronghold at Ajdir. Berenguer, always a realist, thus recommended paying the ransom. In this instance, he was unrepresentative of majority opinion in the African army. ⁽⁶¹⁾

The best the government could hope for was delay, but the well-organized pro-ransom propaganda campaign made temporizing difficult. Passions in the Melilla garrison were running high; on December 1 General Cavalcanti witnessed a pathetic and unnerving demonstration by the wives of the prisoners that made him more impatient than ever with the cautious tactics of Berenguer. In the peninsula, the Reformists and Republicans organized mass meetings in which they stressed that the government's failure to pay the ransom was owing to its bondage to the army. ⁽⁶²⁾ As the political pressure mounted, Abd el-Krim raised his terms to include recognition of the "belligerency" of the Riffian state. ⁽⁶³⁾  Anticolonialist forces on both sides of the Straits were discovering that they might mutually defeat a common enemy.

Unpleasant as the publicity campaign organized by the left might [200] be, paying the ransom represented an even more dangerous alternative for the Maura government. Recognition of Abd el-Krim's belligerency was tantamount to admission of the illegitimacy of the Spanish presence in Morocco; furthermore, the government could not afford to alienate the African army, which was already impatient to avenge its honor by storming Ajdir. On December 15 the government was compelled to remove General Cavalcanti from his post as Commander General of Melilla after he criticized the government's inaction in an interview with La Correspondencia de España. ⁽⁶⁴⁾ In late December La Cierva and Berenguer agreed to utilize the good offices of the Red Cross to reopen negotiations, but Abd el-Krim was too clever to relinquish easily such a useful tool. The ransom of the prisoners continued to nettle the army, outrage the public, and frustrate the government for another year.

The Quota Soldiers

Because it directly affected the middle class, the discharge of the quota soldiers was the issue that did most to inflame Spanish public opinion. By the fall of 1921, newspaper articles, books, and Liberal deputies were providing the Spanish public with lurid descriptions of the wretched life of the Spanish conscript in Africa. Conditions, of course, were no worse than they had ever been; on the contrary, many millions of pesetas had already been spent to improve them. But raising the appallingly low standards was slow work. In the meantime, literate young men were unwilling to suffer in silence. ⁽⁶⁵⁾ Also attracting unfavorable publicity were the inequalities that had developed as some quota soldiers spent their parents' money on better food, clean sheets and underwear, baths, automobiles, and in a few cases, on wine and entertainment for their officers. Many had used their connections to be placed in safe positions in the garrison towns. As might have been expected, their presence demoralized the other troops and their self-assurance bordering on insolence was bad for discipline. ⁽⁶⁶⁾ By January 1922 Berenguer looked forward to their release as soon as there were experienced conscripts to replace them. ⁽⁶⁷⁾ Since these were not available, however, the quota soldiers remained in Africa.

Berenguer was not alone in desiring their discharge. The patriotic fervor that had sent the troops off in August to save their country had drained away by late December when the army crossed the Kert River, marking the end of the first stage of the campaign. Many middle-class [201] Spaniards who had supported the reconquest now believed it was time to halt operations and send the quota soldiers home. This sentiment was skilfully exploited by the bourgeois left, who pointed out the "injustice" of retaining the quota soldiers of 1919, who had paid for their redemption in good faith, long after regular and quota conscripts of later call-ups in the peninsula had been discharged. The leader of this campaign was El Liberal, which had lost its enthusiasm for the Moroccan war during the fall of 1921. Increasingly radical in its demands for a democratization of Spanish public life, including the abandonment of the Protectorate, El Liberal used the quota soldiers to turn middle-class opinion against the war and the civilian and military oligarchies that sustained it. By April 1922 the issue was so popular that even the conservative ABC had joined the chorus demanding repatriation. ⁽⁶⁸⁾

The release of the quota soldiers was a purely middle-class demand, as the government quickly perceived. Since it could not repatriate the soldiers, it took refuge behind the argument that democracy and social justice required that all classes serve equally, without regard for quota payments, a position that for once earned it the applause of the Socialists. In addition, La Cierva continued to appropriate funds to improve conditions in the eastern sector, especially in the hospitals. But so long as the quota soldiers remained in Africa, the government could not restore the middle-class indifference that had made possible the prosecution of the Moroccan war in the past.

The Constitutional Crisis of January 1922

The growing gulf between the Maura government and public opinion did not necessarily imply a strengthening of its ties with the army. On the contrary, the factionalism in the officer corps, aggravated since the disaster, made it impossible for the government to devise policies satisfactory to all parties, with the result that military quarrels never entirely receded from public view. Moreover, after an autumn of continuous criticism in the Cortes, military tempers were short-fused. In January 1922 these tensions erupted during a confrontation between La Cierva and the Juntas. The episode soon became a constitutional crisis, a contest of wills between the cosovereigns of the Spanish state, the king and the parliament. Although Alfonso was ultimately forced to capitulate, it was the intervention of the africanistas, rather than the inherent strength of the government, that decided the outcome. The [202] resolution of the crisis was thus not a victory for the principle of civil supremacy, but an illustration of the way in which military disunity could easily be translated into praetorianism.

The crisis grew out of the quarrel between La Cierva, Berenguer, and the Advisory Commissions, which had intensified after the dismissal of General Cavalcanti as Commander General of Melilla in mid-December. Cavalcanti's replacement, Brigadier General José Sanjurjo, was chosen because of his close identification with Berenguer and his colonial policies. But as Berenguer had feared, ⁽⁶⁹⁾ the appointment of a brigadier offended the senior officers in the garrison. ⁽⁷⁰⁾ When the Infantry Directory sent a reconnaissance committee to Melilla, it found considerable resentment against La Cierva and against the elitism of the shock units imported from the Jibala by Berenguer. ⁽⁷¹⁾ There was also evidence of disaffection in the Madrid garrison. During the first week in January, General Weyler resigned as chief of the General Staff with a flourish, citing as the reasons for his decision Berenguer's incompetence and La Cierva's disregard for his own advice. Enjoying the limelight enormously, the eighty-three-year-old veteran of the Carlist and Cuban wars assured the public that he could have saved the men at Monte Arruit "at the head of four or six thousand horses." ⁽⁷²⁾ Weyler's military tactics had been out-of-date for fifty years, but the resignation gave the many enemies of La Cierva and General Berenguer an opportunity to parade their discontent. For two days officers expressed their solidarity by the traditional presentation of calling cards at Weyler's residence, while La Cierva searched fruitlessly for a general willing to replace him. Just as rumors of a crisis began to circulate, Lieutenant General Luis Aizpuru was persuaded by the king to accept the post.

The Infantry Directory seized the moment to attack, its confidence bolstered by contacts with the Military Governor, General Burguete, and with an aide of the king, who was undoubtedly worried by the extensive political alienation in the officer corps. On January 6 the Directory demanded the resignation of the War Minister through official channels. ⁽⁷³⁾ La Cierva responded by threatening the Infantry Junta with dissolution in the presence of all the Advisory Commission presidents and the principal military officials in the Madrid garrison. Somewhat intimidated, the Junta leaders returned to the Ministry three days later with promises to refrain from political intrigue. ⁽⁷⁴⁾ But by now, La Cierva was determined to pursue his advantage. Quite unexpectedly, he produced an order depriving the Advisory Commissions of their autonomy by integrating them officially into the War Ministry. Henceforth, their offices would be located in the Palace of Buenavista, their presidents selected by the War Minister, and their expenses met out [203] of government funds. Presidents of the regimental Juntas would be selected by local commanding officers. ⁽⁷⁵⁾ When the Junta presidents stormed out of La Cierva's office in protest, the War Minister put the order in the form of a decree and took it to the palace for the king's signature on January 11.

The king refused to sign the decree, thus opening a constitutional crisis that exposed the fragile underpinnings of the parliamentary regime. Alfonso's concern was for his throne. Since the opening of the Cortes in October, the parliament had become a forum for the opponents of the monarchy. The dynastic parties seemed unable to quell the criticism or to convince the nation to support a forward policy in Morocco. The best defense seemed to lie with the army; the army, however, was badly divided. Throughout the fall and winter, Alfonso had openly courted the africanistas, while trying to assign the blame for Anual to the politicians. Now, in an effort to appease the enraged junteros, he decided to defy La Cierva. ⁽⁷⁶⁾ Maura presented the resignation of the government the same day. ⁽⁷⁷⁾

Both Liberals and Conservatives agreed that the formation of a new government should be contingent upon the signing of the decree, in order to give the country, as José Sánchez Guerra put it, "the impression of the dignity of the public Power." ⁽⁷⁸⁾ Since no government was formed, it was clear that the king was still unwilling to sign the decree, although the dynastic parties did their best to minimize the king's role in the crisis in their interviews with the press. Almost overnight, public hostility shifted from La Cierva to the Juntas and the king. On the evening of January 12, Young Maurists were heard shouting "frankly antidynastic" slogans in front of the military casino.

The intensity of the crisis shattered the military unity that had been forged by Weyler's resignation and La Cierva's bravado performance on January 10. As in 1917, the technical corps proved more attached to military discipline than the Infantry Corps; by the evening of the eleventh, they had decided to avoid a confrontation. Two days later, the Advisory Commissions of the Artillery, Engineers, Staff, and Quartermaster Corps all signed formal notes of submission to the War Minister. ⁽⁷⁹⁾ The Advisory Commissions of the Infantry, Cavalry, and Medical Corps, however, refused to back down, continuing their campaign against La Cierva from the pages of La Correspondencia Militar. Accused in the liberal and left press of interference in civilian politics, they replied unblushingly that "the Fatherland ought to be grateful to the Juntas" for having rid it of bad government in the past. ⁽⁸⁰⁾ Apparently, they were still receiving encouragement from Alfonso. As the other Juntas announced their submission, the Infantry Junta proclaimed [204] its intention to resist the government while awaiting justice from the king. ⁽⁸¹⁾ Unmistakably, both Alfonso and the Infantry junta were convinced that they, and not the government or the parliamentary regime, represented the national will.

The stalemate was resolved when it became clear that Alfonso and the Juntas could not count on unanimous support in the officer corps. Generals Burguete and Primo de Rivera, no friends of La Cierva, had nonetheless prudently pledged their support to the government. ⁽⁸²⁾ More decisive, however, was a telegram of support for the Maura government signed by all the units in the Melilla garrison, which appeared in the conservative daily, ABC, on January 14. Juntero-africanista rivalries had proven more intense than monarchical loyalty and had deprived Alfonso of the support of the most prestigious part of the Spanish army.

Although the telegram suggested unanimous support for Maura and La Cierva, in fact, the Melilla garrison was as divided as the army as a whole between junteros -- the former clientele of General Silvestre -- and africanistas -- the officers in the elite units from the Jibala. The animosity between the two factions was dramatized during the January crisis by a personal confrontation between the Commander General, Sanjurjo, and Colonel José Riquelme, the head of the Office of Native Affairs and, as the ranking colonel in the garrison, the president of the local Infantry Junta. At the height of the government crisis, africanistas in the vanguard column stationed across the Kert at Dar Drius agreed to send the telegram of solidarity to the Maura government signed with the names of their battalions. The dissident junteros among them sent word to Colonel Riquelme, who as president of the Infantry Junta refused to approve transmission of the telegram without the unanimous agreement of all the Infantry officers in the garrison, many of whom were still loyal to the Junta. After a bitter confrontation between Riquelme and Sanjurjo, whose professional sympathies lay with the africanistas and La Cierva, the Commander General asserted his authority and approved transmission of the telegram. ⁽⁸³⁾

The telegram, by exposing the divisions within the officer corps, also exposed the difficulty of building a political base in "the army"; on the fifteenth, Alfonso was forced to retreat. With as little grace as possible, the three recalcitrant Juntas submitted as well, "so as not to appear ... as the only rebellious and seditious element ... in opposition to the public Power. . . ," ⁽⁸⁴⁾ On January 16 the king signed La Cierva's decree limiting the autonomy of the Advisory Commissions, and Maura returned to office. Although the constitutional crisis had been resolved in favor of the principle of civil supremacy, it was [205] obvious that this had been owing not to the government's strength but rather to the lack of unanimity in the officer corps. Indeed, it was the political frailty of the cabinet that encouraged factionalism in the army. When in 1923 a new cabinet would begin to govern with purpose and authority, the officer corps would close ranks in self-defense.
 
The Fall of the Government

Although the January crisis enabled the Maura government to display its solidarity, in reality it was near collapse. The unity of the cabinet had always depended on the existence of an external threat -- Abd el-Krim, the responsibilities campaign, the Juntas -- and on the opportunity to avoid the issues that would pull it apart. On January 10, 1922, the vanguard units of the expeditionary army had reached Dar Drius across the Kert, forcing the cabinet to formulate the long-range Protectorate policy it had postponed for so many months. Within a month the cabinet had fallen.

If anything, disagreement within the government was even more severe in January than it had been in August. Since then the War Ministry had spent nearly half a billion pesetas on the Moroccan campaign; 160,000 troops, including several thousand quota soldiers, were indefinitely stationed in the zone. Although most of the fighting had been entrusted to the Regulars and the Tercio, public opinion was increasingly anxious for repatriation and an end to the military operations, a view shared by Cambó, González Hontoria, and Maura himself. In their opinion, total military occupation of the Protectorate was beyond the financial resources of the nation and of dubious value as a mode of pacification and control. La Cierva, on the other hand, still supported Berenguer's contention that a Spanish retreat to the coast would create a vacuum that would quickly be filled by the French. With the army back at Dar Drius, it should now retrace the route of General Silvestre in 1920-21 toward Alhucemas Bay in the heart of the Protectorate. ⁽⁸⁵⁾

The conflict grew out of opposing perceptions of the political significance of the Moroccan Protectorate, both internationally and domestically. The dilemma for Maura and his allies lay in their ambivalent attitude toward the Protectorate, since they wished neither to relinquish it nor to bear the burdens of its expense. For Maura and González Hontoria, Spain's interest in Morocco was largely strategic; a massive military commitment was not only unnecessary, but potentially dangerous for the stability of the regime. Cambó was even less [206] enthusiastic, viewing the Protectorate as little more than a "counter" in international diplomacy. If the funds wasted on military expenditures could not be diverted to meet domestic needs, Spain would forfeit the chance for peaceful economic and political modernization. All three understood that by allowing the army to have its way in Morocco, they were alienating the regime further from the country and increasing its dependence on the military. Yet a radical alteration of colonial policy was possible only if the government made an appeal for popular support, in defiance of the army, a measure that neither Maura nor Cambó was willing to contemplate. For La Cierva, at least there was no ambivalence: anything short of total military victory in Morocco represented dishonor abroad and a fatal concession to the forces of subversion at home.

Still hoping to reconcile the differences, Maura summoned Berenguer to a meeting with La Cierva, González Hontoria, and high-ranking military officials during the first week in February. ⁽⁸⁶⁾ The conference was held at a private estate in Pizarra, in the province of Malaga, out of the glare of publicity. But the cabinet's differences could not be resolved. In order to present a united front to the nation, a temporary compromise was reached: at Berenguer's insistence, both the Jibala and the eastern half of the Rif would be pacified militarily, but the army would not continue its overland march to Alhucemas Bay. Instead, the government agreed on an amphibious assault to be undertaken at an unspecified date in the future. ⁽⁸⁷⁾

The compromise solution satisfied few in the country, which by now was polarizing between those who favored abandonment of the Protectorate and the repatriation of troops and those who supported complete occupation by the army. It is arguable that the compromise desperately adopted by the government was the least desirable of the available alternatives. Because the army was badly divided, it probably could not have offered an effective protest if military operations were discontinued, a measure that would have been extremely popular among large sections of the middle and lower classes. On the other hand, extensive financial and moral support for the campaign would probably have insured its success, a fait accompli that a majority of the nation would have accepted. The hesitant, halfway solution chosen by Maura satisfied no one, the Protectorate was neither relinquished nor controlled, and the opportunity to restore some vitality to the moribund Conservative party was lost.

Exactly a month separated the Pizarra Conference from the cabinet crisis of March 7, 1922, a month characterized by the rapid degeneration of the unity so carefully preserved for the previous six months. [207] Once it became clear that the left and center-left would not accept the compromise on Moroccan policy proposed by the government the coalition was doomed. Deprived of the popular support that had made possible the cooperative effort since August, the members of the cabinet followed the polarizing nation in search of clients. Henceforth, the Conservatives would claim as their natural constituency all those -- including the army -- who favored continuation of the war and, by extension, who opposed any significant alteration of the political status quo. The Liberals, on the other hand, were obliged to court the left in order to broaden the base of their party. For this reason, the cabinet did not fall over the issue of Morocco but over the restoration of constitutional guarantees, which had been suspended since March 24, 1919.

Other tensions had already weakened the cabinet. The constitutional crisis provoked by the king and the army in January, although resolved in the government's favor, had nonetheless exposed the limitations on parliamentary sovereignty in the Constitution of 1876. For the Liberals and Cambó, close identification with the discredited political system was the equivalent of political suicide. After the signing of a tariff highly protective of Catalonia's failing textile industry on February 13, Cambó had begun to disengage from the government. At the same time, the tariff aroused the indignation of agrarian and mercantile interests, as well as of the working-class parties, against the cabinet as a whole. Added to the continuing hostility of the Infantry Junta toward La Cierva and the mounting tension over the war, these issues made it unlikely that the cabinet could withstand any concerted assault on its integrity.

The suspended constitutional guarantees provided the issue around which all the political enemies of the cabinet could unite. On February 19 Socialists in the Casa del Pueblo and Reformists in the increasingly radical Ateneo inaugurated a propaganda campaign that elicited a wider response than would have been possible before the disaster at Anual. ⁽⁸⁸⁾ In the past, the suspension of civil liberties had affected primarily the working classes; Martínez Anido had used his freedom from constitutional restraints very effectively in the past year, with the approval of much of the Catalan middle class. But as the quota soldiers continued in Africa, the middle class found itself victimized by what it considered arbitrary government power and overnight discovered a passion for democracy and the rule of law.

The leftward shift in the nation complicated the power struggle for leadership within the Liberal party. The need for an opening to the left had been foreseen not only by Santiago Alba, who had negotiated an [208] alliance with the Reformists, but also by Romanones, who still entertained hopes of reestablishing his control over the party. Two days after the Cortes opened on March 1, 1922, Romanones interpellated the government on the issue of constitutional guarantees. ⁽⁸⁹⁾ If he had hoped for a positive response from Maura, he was soon disabused; Maura insisted that guarantees could not be restored unless the government were provided with extraordinary powers to deal with the enemies of social order. True to his traditional belief in the moral superiority of authoritarian rule by a government of elites, Maura argued that the real danger to freedom came not from the government but from the "excesses" of private citizens, and accused Romanones of duplicating the Liberal betrayal of 1909. ⁽⁹⁰⁾ With the Socialists demanding that the Liberals prove their "liberalism," ⁽⁹¹⁾ Romanones's representatives in the cabinet had no choice but to resign. Departing the chamber, Romanones remarked, "There is no doubt that the question proves to be most decorous for all." ⁽⁹²⁾ The debate on the guarantees had allowed his faction to withdraw from the Maura coalition on a question of principle while he posed as the champion of civil liberties. At the same time, the crisis had forestalled an airing of the incompatibilities within the cabinet on the Moroccan war, which he still supported. The fall of the Maura coalition meant that the fictional consensus on the war might possibly be preserved a little longer.

What could no longer be preserved was the fiction of an elite consensus superior to party interests. Maura, Romanones, and even Cambó had cherished this idea since the collapse of the turno in 1917; the failure of the Maura government of 1921 put an end to their illusion that the common interests and values that had given strength to the old turno still endured. The defeat at Anual had exposed the weakness in the old system; public opinion now demanded an accounting for past errors and political reform to prevent their recurrence. Perhaps for the first time, meaningful parliamentary government was a possibility. To make it a reality, the dynastic parties had to abandon their reliance on the army in favor of a party system that reflected the political and social evolution of postwar Spain.

2. See the interview with Eza in CM, July 25, 1921, p. 1.

3. El Socialista, July 26, 1921, p. 1.

4. See the remarks of Lerroux in ibid., Aug. 17, 1921, p. 1.

5. El Debate, Aug. 14, 1921, p. 2.

6. The material in this paragraph is based on a reading of the major dailies and a popular illustrated weekly,Mundo Gráfico.

7. See, for example, El Socialista, July 23, 1921, p. 1; the letter of Marcelino Domingo in ibid., Aug. 25, 1921, pp. 1-2.

8. For a critical view of this strategy, see Maria-Rosa de Madariaga, "LeParti socialiste espagnole et le parti communiste d'Espagne face à la révolte rifaine."

9. Quoted in CM, Aug. 26, 1921, p. 1.

10. See General Luque's two-part article in El Sol, Aug. 2 and 3, 1921, p. 1.

11. CM, July 23, 1921, p. 1.

12. See Indalecio Prieto in El Liberal, Aug. 4, 1921, p. 1.

13. CM, Aug. 5, 1921, p. I.

14. See ibid., July 25, 1921, p. 2; El Sol, Aug. 3, 1921, p. 1.

15. El Debate, July 29, 1921, p. 1.

16. Burguete's campaign began in ibid., July 31, 1921, p. 1, and ran through the fall and winter.

17. La Cierva, Notas, p. 268.

18. See ibid., p. 244; El Heraldo, Oct. 23, 1921, p. 3.

19. DSS (Nov. 25, 1921), 5:2039.

20. In Jesús Pabón, Cambó, 2 (1):297.

21. In Cortes, El Expediente Picasso, p. 606.

22. MA, leg. 248.

23. The cabinet included: State, Manuel González Hontoria; Finance, Francisco Cambó; War, Juan de la Cierva; Interior, Conde de Coello de Portugal; Development, Tomás Maestre; Public Instruction, César Silió; Labor, Leopoldo Matos; Navy, Marqués de Cortina.

24. See Maura to his son Gabriel, July 29, 1921, in Gabriel Maura Gamazo and Melchor Fernández Almagro, Por qué cayó Alfonso XIII, p. 350.

25. El Heraldo, Aug. 3, 1921, p. 1.

26. Diario Universal, Aug. 25, 1921, pp. 1-2.

27. La Cierva, Notas, pp. 243-44; Diario Universal, Aug. 26 and 27, 1921,p. 1.

28. This correspondence is in Cortes, Expediente Picasso, pp. 606-10.

29. CM, Nov. 21, 1922, p. 1.

30. R.O. of Aug. 22 and Sept. 2, 1921.

31. Dámaso Berenguer y Fuste, conde de Xauen, Campañas en el Rif  y Yebala, 1921-1922, pp. 110-11.

32. Francisco Franco Bahamonde, Marruecos, p. 279.

33. El Liberal, Oct. 22, 1921, p. 3.

34. Diario Universal, Sept. 9, 1921, p. 1.

35. El Debate, Sept. 28 and Oct. 1,1921, p. 1; El Heraldo, Oct. 20, 1921, p. 1.

36. El Liberal, Oct. 21 and 23, 1921, pp. 3, 1.

37. El Mundo, La Tribuna, El Heraldo, and Diario Universal.

38. El Liberal, Oct. 23, 1921, p. 1; El Socialista, Oct. 24, 1921, p. 1; El Heraldo, Oct. 23, 1921, p. 3.

39. CM, Oct. 24, 1921, p. 1.

40. El Liberal, Oct. 25, 1921, p. 1.

41. Ibid., Oct. 23 and 25, 1921, p. 1.

42. Cabanellas was charged with violation of Articles 258, 300, and 329 of the Code of Military Justice. CM, Nov. 14, 1921, p. 1.

43. El Heraldo, Nov. 14, 1921, p. 3.

44. SHM-A, 1-4-8-21.

45. El Debate, Sept. 28, 1921, p. 1.

46. Maura in DSC (Oct. 20, 1921), 7:3670.

47. Pabón, Cambó, 2 (1):303-6.

48. DSC (1921), 7:3669-73.

49. Ibid.,8:4165-66.

50. See especially the Marqués de la Viesca (Captain Arsenic Martínez Campos) in ibid. (Oct. 21, 1921), 7:3694-3710; Marcelino Domingo in ibid. (Oct. 27, 1921), 8:3824-30.

51. See Indalecio Prieto and Julián Besteiro in ibid. (Oct. 27 and Nov. 3,1921), 8:3819-32, 3938-48.

52. Ibid., 8:3734, app. 2.

53. CM, Nov. 10, 1921, p. 1.

54. El Liberal, Nov. 3, 1921, p. 1.

55. DSC (1921), 9:4488-94.

56. See the correspondence in December 1921 between General Emilio Barrera and La Cierva in SHM-A, 1-4-8-21.

57. CM, Dec. 20, 1921, p. 1.

58. DSC (1921), 9:4562.

59. Ibid. (Dec. 7, 1921), 9:4657-59.

60. Ibid.

61. Congreso de los Diputados, Comisión de responsabilidades políticas, La Comisión de responsabilidades, pp. 20-21.

62. On December 5 a "mother's commission" petitioned La Cierva, and the Federation of Municipal Workers and Employees of Madrid held a pro-ransom meeting. El Liberal, Dec. 4 and 6, 1921, p. 1; El Socialista, Dec. 5, 1921,p. 1. A typical attitude is expressed by Miguel de Unamuno, "El rescate, principio de la civilización," El Liberal, Dec. 8, 1921, p. 1.

63. El Debate, Dec. 6, 1921, p. 1.

64. Quoted in ibid., Dec. 15, 1921, p. 1; El Heraldo, Dec. 15, 1921, p. 2.

65. On conditions in the African army, see Eduardo Ortega y Gasset in DSC (Nov. 8, 1921), 8:4001-9; El Heraldo, Jan. 2, 1922, p. 1; Francisco Hernández Mir, Del desastre al fracaso; Ernesto Giménez Caballero, Notas marruecas de un soldado (for which the author was imprisoned in September 1923); José Díaz-Fernández, El blocao; and Arturo Barea, La forja de un rebelde.

66. See especially, CM, Aug. 12, 1922, p. 1; Juan Guixé, El Rif en sombras.

67. Berenguer, Campañas, 1921-1922, p. 167.

68. ABC. Apr. I, 1922, p. 9.

69. Berenguer had originally opposed Sanjurjo's appointment. SHM-A,1-4-8-21.

70. Division General Neila went on indefinite sick call. CM, Dec. 19 and 29, 1921, pp. 1-2, 1.

71. El Liberal, Jan. 10, 1922, p. 1.

72. Ibid., Jan. 5, 1922, p. 1.

73. La Cierva, Notas, p. 268.

74. MA, leg. 275.

75. R.D. of Jan. 16, 1921.

76. Alfonso was reported to have sent a messenger to the juntas with anote saying, "Be calm. If the decree is presented, since I am quite dull witted, I will have to study it for several days" (El Heraldo, Jan. 12, 1921, p. 2).

77. The note is in El Liberal, Jan. 12, 1922, p. 1.

78. Ibid., Jan. 13, 1922, p. 1.

79. Ibid., Jan. 15, 1922, p. 1.

80. CM, Jan. 12, 1922, p. 1.

81. Ibid., Jan. 14, 1922, p. 1.

82. La Cierva, Notas, p. 269.

83. See the testimony of Colonel Riquelme and General Berenguer in Congreso, Comisión de responsabilidades, pp. 199-200, 314; and CM, July 28,1922, p. 1.

84. Their official notes are in El Liberal, Jan. 17, 1922, p. 1.

85. For an excellent discussion of the individual views of the cabinet members, see Pabón, Cambó, 2 (1):328-40.

86. Military officials present at the Pizarra Conference included the chief of the General Staff, General Luis Aizpuru, the Commander of the Fleet in Morocco, Admiral Juan B. Aznar, their aides, and the Undersecretary for War, General Julio Ardanaz.

87. Berenguer, Campañas, 1921-1922, pp. 252-53.

88. El Liberal, Feb. 21, 1922, p. 1.

89. DSC (1922), 1:41-43.

90. Ibid., pp. 44-46.

91. Julián Besteiro in ibid., pp. 52-53.

92. La Epoca, Mar. 8, 1922, p. 2.