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World War One and Authoritarian Thought in the Lusophone World Francisco Carlos Palomanes Martinho1 Abstract
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Introduction
The above text was published in a small, unsigned, and undated book, which, as its content makes clear, was written between the death of the dictator Sidónio Pais3 and the coup d’état of 28 May 1926. It demonstrates how important the construction of the ephemeral dictator’s memory was for Portugal and the Portuguese.4 Sidónio Pais’s example is not unique. After the Spanish Civil War, for example, there occurred an inflation of death-related commemorations through the perpetuation of mourning and its associated rites. The cult of the ‘fallen’ reached its apogee in the construction of the political myth of José Antonio Primo de Rivera, founder of the Falange. His funeral was celebrated in Burgos Cathedral, in November 1938. By then, his name had already been engraved on its outer wall, an action repeated in all of Spain’s churches as they fell into Nationalist hands; to his name were added those of the respective locality’s sons fallen in combat for the Nationalist cause (Calero, 2010, 257-282). Portugal and the War: The Stymied Intervention In Portugal, on the other hand, participation in the Great War of 1914-1918 had been so frustrating that it resulted more in embarrassment than in enthusiasm. The republican government was incapable of imposing its commemorative plans, with the result that some of the monuments intended to strengthen the collective memory of Portugal’s involvement were only concluded in the 1930s or even the 1940s (Correia, 2009, 361; Correia, 2015). On the eve of the military dictatorship, the magazine Ordem Nova [New Order], founded by young activists from Integralismo Lusitano, complained of the absence of any state policy towards disabled veterans (Alvares, 1926: 195-197). The reasons for these constraints lie in the symbiotic relationship between victory and defeat which resulted from Portugal’s participation in the Great War. It is true that it was on the victorious side; but its participation as an effective force was so disastrous that one is unable to speak of it in terms of a triumph. One veteran summarized Portugal’s fate in the following terms: “having joined the ranks of the victors, our attitude was that of the vanquished.”5 Such sentiment results from the fact that Portugal was disappointed by the failure to obtain greater bargaining power in the field of international relations. Moreover, while belligerence had as an objective the quelling of internal disputes through nationalist resurgence, the result was the precise opposite: it contributed decisively to the deepening of the Republic’s crisis. It seems, in fact, that demobilization and disinterest in the war were a constant from the moment war was declared until its conclusion. As the newspaper A Monarchia put it after the declaration of war,
As the crisis deepened and the Republic’s hesitations came to the fore, anti-liberal political forces begin to close ranks, achieving that unity which proved decisive for the success of the 28 May coup. The discrediting of the Portuguese presence in the war had begun even before Portugal had effectively entered the conflict. It was as old as the offer to fight alongside Great Britain. Thus, in January 1916, A Monarchia gave great prominence to an article which, in a mocking tone, pointed out, “According to The Times, the Portuguese government, led by the present President of the Republic, proposed, offered, to send a Portuguese expeditionary corps to the British government.”7 On the same page, it welcomed the war, which, in the opinion of its writers, was confirming the superiority of monarchies over republics. One could now discern
However, this praise for the war did not imply agreement with the Portuguese interventionist project. The following month, the same newspaper questioned Portugal’s capacity to wage war and the reasons which brought it into the conflict. The first problem was the good relations hitherto enjoyed with Germany: “It seems a done deal that the government will oblige Portugal to participate in the European conflict, which is none of its business […] In the Ministry of War the mobilization of an army to go and fight is being prepared, side by side with the British, against a nation that has never attacked us.’9 Amid much irony and criticism of the republican regime, notably of Afonso Costa, the newspaper doubted that a “general sense of indignation” could be generated.10 At the same time, A Monarchia noted the weakness of the Portuguese Army, which resulted from political strife within its ranks.11 General Pimenta de Castro, Prime Minister between January and May 1915, had also refused the option for war. He argued first of all that Britain had unilaterally declared war on Germany, which excused Portugal from any duty towards its ally. Pimenta de Castro added that the army was not ready for such an enterprise: “To join the war in Europe today is not the same as fighting the natives in our possessions. And Portugal lacks the means and the indispensable preparations to succeed in a war with other civilized countries.”12 The article in question attacked Portugal’s subservience in front of Britain and wondered about the British Empire’s real strength:
The declaration of war dates back to March 1916. After a struggle between ‘interventionists’ and ‘anti-interventionists,’ the scales weighed in favor of the former when the British government asked Lisbon to seize German merchant ships which had taken refuge in Portuguese waters. Filipe Ribeiro de Meneses has written recently on tensions within the republican camp. He demonstrates that even among the main republican parties there was no consensus regarding Portugal’s participation in the conflict (Meneses, 2009, 267-276). Consensus may well have emerged solely in relation to the absolute need to defend the country’s overseas possessions. In the face of the constant negotiations between Britain and Germany about the division of colonial space, in 1914 the Portuguese Government had dispatched troops to Africa, namely Angola and Mozambique. As Aniceto Afonso explains, “[…] although the idea of intervening in the European theatre did not generate unanimous support among republicans, no one questioned the mobilization of expeditions to Africa.”14 Many republicans, whether military or civilians, urged the need for military intervention based on the overriding need to protect these overseas possessions (Meneses, 2006, 125-126). In fact, republicans and anti-republicans alike showed that this was the sole issue capable of uniting the Portuguese.15 Uncertainty regarding the advantages of participating in the war and the well-known unpreparedness of the CEP (Corpo Expedicionário Português) led to a deepening of the internal crisis, constant desertions from the Army in Portugal and, in the end, Sidónio Pais’s military coup on 8 December 1917. The year-long dictatorship that followed was responsible for a slowing down of the Portuguese military effort – or, as General Ferreira Martins, the Deputy Chief of Staff of the CEP put it, its “winding down.”16 Most likely this decision to reduce the Portuguese presence at the front resulted above all from political considerations. Sidónio Pais’s priority was the nature of the regime, creating space in which civilian forces might remain active, even in wartime. The phenomenon now referred to as Sidonismo had as its fundamental goal the establishment of a political regime. It possessed all the elements needed to build it: a popular and charismatic leader; the reorganization of political forces, including the formation of a new party, the Partido Nacional Republicano; a rewriting of the electoral decrees, granting suffrage to the illiterate; and, finally, doctrinaire elements with which to revise the Constitution, bringing in, for example, the parliamentary representation of professional associations. This was a project for the establishment of a presidentialist and proto-corporativist regime (Ferreira, 1992: 70-71). In this way, and despite the formation of a new political party, the Sidonista project marked, in the eyes of its supporters, a rupture with politicians and their parties. The idea of a corporative model was thus reconciled with the negation of conflict and private interests as represented in the traditional parties. As one commentator put it, “[Sidónio Pais] was contemptuous of politicians because his great intelligence and his generous heart told him that politics was the deadly evil that had invaded the nation’s organism.”17 What was needed, then, was to recover the true national soul. The war was thus fought half-heartedly. Although he made an effort to please the victorious regimes alongside which Portugal had fought, Sidónio Pais was viewed as a traitor by the defenders of armed intervention in the conflict. The somewhat embarrassed welcome given to the first returning veterans demonstrated the regime’s difficulty in dealing with this inheritance. Having risen to the presidency in the wake of a coup against the Republic’s leading figures, notably Afonso Costa and António José de Almeida, the dictator could not enthusiastically support a war effort begun before his brief consulate (Meneses, 2006: 111). So far as the mobilization of civil society is concerned, three distinct groupings that supported the dictatorship can be identified: first, those who were content with the declaration of a state of emergency; second, those who defended the creation of a new regime; and, finally, the monarchists, intent on restoration. Sidónio Pais hesitated between the first two alternatives, constantly rejecting the monarchist solution (Meneses, 2006: 72). In any case, a new regime, the República Nova, began to take shape. Of 77 senatorial seats, 28 were attributed to representatives of professional associations, including both employers or employees; doctors, lawyers and engineers; civil servants; and faculty members at universities, artistic academies, or high schools. The remaining 49 seats were attributed to the common electorate, nine of which were reserved for political minorities. In addition, the widening of the electoral body brought the number of registered voters to 900,000, increased from the 300,000 or so at the beginning of the Republic.18 Still, and despite the announced political reforms, there remained the feeling that Sidonismo would only last for as long as the war did. The República Nova was never more than a project without a constitutional solution. In a country that had entered the conflict in March 1916 and dispatched its first contingent to the Western Front only the following year, the coup was simply a way of marking time. A little over a month after the armistice, Sidónio Pais was assassinated at Rossio train station, in Lisbon. With this event, there began the tension between the reality of his regime and its memory, as propagated by his followers. The simple fact is that, from a strictly political point of view, the dictatorship was always an incomplete regime. There were elections but no new constitution; there were councils, but these did not deliberate. As a result, this incomplete nature, related to the fact that the enthusiasm initially generated by corporate representation had gradually cooled off, led the government to rapidly lose its credentials. The strikes that occurred throughout 1918 also led to the mounting erosion of the Sidónio Pais dictatorship (Cabral, 2007: 87). Consequently, the regime was faced once again with the choice between Monarchy or Republic, eight years after the latter’s triumph (Ferreira, 1992, 73). But there was a twist: 1914-1918 were the years in which the political and ideological tendencies of a fascist or proto-fascist character began to gain traction (Cabral, 2007: 75). The mounting crisis and the political and military turmoil of October/November 1918 led many authors, such as the republican Raul Rego and the historian José Medeiros Ferreira, to see signs of the early demise of Sidonismo in those months.19 However, my point is the precise opposite: the dictator’s tragic death was crucial for the strengthening and the continuity of Sidonismo until the fall of the republican regime in 1926. Sidónio Pais was an officer and Portugal was at war for practically the whole of his tenure. Nevertheless, it was precisely the Armistice and his death which brought about a significant increase in chaotic military interventions, carried out by independent factions devoid of any institutional sense (Ferreira, 1992: 74-75). While the armed forces broke down into various factions, fragmenting and undertaking isolated and unrelated coups, civilians were busy organizing themselves. Examples of the military division can be found in the counter-revolutionary Monarquia do Norte, which began in the city of Porto on 19 February, three days after the pro-republican rising led by the Santarém regiment. Despite these fragmented and more or less fragile actions, it should be noted that the Sidonista coup and the war had politicized the Portuguese armed forces to such an extent that military intervention in politics became a constant feature of the second phase of the Republic’s existence (Ferreira, 1992: 80): “While the question of Portugal’s participation in the war was of extreme importance to the parties and other political forces, it was absolutely decisive for the evolution of the armed forces and their growing role in the country’s political life.”20 Sidónio Pais – The Reference Point for Mobilization Corporative dictatorship, victorious under António de Oliveira Salazar, was one alternative to the increasingly worn out Republic. The repeated crises faced by Portuguese liberal republicanism questioned its ability to implement a political project on a larger scale. Against this background, various opposition groups came together to confront the existing system of liberal representation and present Portuguese society with a new alternative. In most cases, this opposition was carried out under a markedly anti-liberal profile, although there was as of yet no unanimity on some important points, such as the nature of the new regime to be built. Sidónio Pais’s tenure as President of the Republic, although brief, allowed for the creation of a set of reference points which, to a great extent, served to steer this anti-liberal militancy. Fragile though this guidance was, it was still much clearer than it had been before the sidonista dictatorship (Leal, 1994: 97). In February 1918, the Integralist newspaper A Monarquia: Diário Integralista da Tarde set out the reasons why Integralists were now supporting Sidónio Pais: “It is with the Fatherland’s remaining soul that Mr Sidónio Pais finds himself collaborating, through one of History’s mysterious laws, in the preliminary labors of Portugal’s true restoration.”21 As monarchists, Integralist activists divined the possibility of a restoration in a Portugal left rudderless by liberalism and democracy. At the very least, their support allowed them the space in which to make their case for monarchy.22 Little by little, however, they came to understand, with a modicum of realism and of respect, the path set out by the dictator: “Mr Sidónio Pais, a republican, will not bring back the Monarchy, because his dignity prevents him from betraying his convictions.”23 As a result, they defined their stance as one of “critical support” for the new regime, refusing to accept any significant position of responsibility: “Monarchists can support the government, can even serve it in political posts, but can hardly serve as ministers while they are monarchists and the Republic remains a Republic.”24 Opposed to the holding of elections,25 they nevertheless participated in them when they occurred: “One does not fight evil by turning one’s back on it; to the contrary, one must confront it in order to undo it.”26 In any case, the adopted electoral system, which incorporated corporativist representation, was welcomed by the Integralists: “[…] the principle of technical representation, one of the fairest and most victorious aspirations to political truth, was welcomed for the principles that underpin it already and which can be used against electioneering politicians […]”27 The dictator’s death did not bring the young Republic the dreamed-of stability. Rather, the contrary happened; the crisis deepened. In this respect, it is worthwhile analyzing the perspective of anti-republican unity established by Sidonismo. To a large extent, it established itself against the will of the dictator. Sidónio Pais, like so many men of his time, drank from the waters of positivism and scientism and was close to the ‘advanced ideas’ of the Republic and Freemasonry, going as far as to display sympathy for the radical and socializing perspective of French republicans; Émile Zola at their head (Silva, 2003: 55). At the same time, the fact that he had served the Republic’s government in Berlin as Ambassador to Imperial Germany did not make him pro-German, as much of the literature he generated seeks to establish (Cabral, 2007: 75-95). In correspondence dated May 1914 and addressed to his friend and former Minister of Industry and Commerce in the first years of the Republic, Manuel de Brito Camacho, Sidónio called for the strengthening of the Anglo-Portuguese alliance. Among the reasons for this was the protection of Portugal’s colonies. It is true that he attempted to prevent both the breaking off of diplomatic relations with Germany and Portugal’s intervention in the war. However, it was not Germanophilia which drove him, but rather fears for the future of the Republic should it involve itself in a conflict outside Africa (Silva, 2003: 66). His profile was thus very different from the religious and mythical character which some of his followers attempted to impose on him – a character fused with the very history of the country itself:
In this sense, it is worth reinforcing the idea that Sidonismo was a victorious ideology. The actual opinions and values of the dead dictator counted for little. Despite its difficulties in consolidating itself as a regime, it preserved its ability to bring together all the forces opposed to the Republic. Sidónio’s death, thus, gave life to sidonismo. The Integralists, who, as we have seen, had positioned themselves as ‘critical supporters’ of Sidónio, began to see the murdered dictator as a destiny-assigned reference point for Portugal. Nevertheless, they continued to point to Sidónio’s insistence on a republic as his great weakness: “He who Freemasonry pushed off his chimera-like pedestal was the victim of the regime which he tried to save. Sidónio Pais never understood that he was an instrument in the hands of destiny and that he could not have done as he wished.”29 Despite this difference, even these most autonomous of supporters, so wary of a formal engagement with Sidonismo, did not stop evoking the dictator. Ideological currents, political parties, and civic associations of a conservative and authoritarian nature allowed for convergence within various segments of opposition to the Republic. Among the former, although divided into republican and monarchist factions, unification occurred around a nationalist, anti-liberal and authoritarian project. Among the political parties, one can cite the Partido Republicano Conservador and the Partido Nacional Republicano Presidencialista. As far as civic associations are concerned, Acção Nacionalista – Centro do Nacionalismo Lusitano, Acção Nacional and Cruzada Nacional Nun’Álvares Pereira all deserve a mention. This was a space disputed by republicans and monarchists alike, which allowed for a widening of the anti-republican field. The growth of anti-liberal groups did not mean, however, that there was unity among them. In its very first edition, the Magazine Ordem Nova pointed towards the fragmentation of the various political currents, even on the right. Curiously, it was those who were most independent within the various rightist tendencies who denounced their lack of unity:
As a result, the presumed unity of the right was the result of a victorious coup rather than of a unified program of action. Of course, the postwar setting strengthened a Pan-European sentiment of opposition to the liberal system. Portugal was not, as a result, an isolated case. It is not for nothing that Eric Hobsbawm labelled these years the “Fall of Liberalism” (Hobsbawm, 1995: 113-143). Other events, foremost among them the triumph of the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917, must therefore be seen as elements to consider in the European – and world – crisis of the 1910s and 1920s. In the Portuguese case, wherein a comparison can be established with the case of Primo de Rivera in Spain, the memory of Sidónio Pais as a fallen hero strengthened not only anti-liberalism but also the prospect of an intervention by the Armed Forces (Leal, 1994: 161). In this way, civic associations and political parties opened the way for military action and the resulting overthrow of the republican regime. Conclusion The First World War played a key role in the fall of the First Republic and the subsequent rise of the Estado Novo. Alongside the military question that was opened up by the notorious failure of the Portuguese army’s participation in the fighting in Flanders, there stood the coup d’état carried out by Sidónio Pais. The two episodes, participation in the conflict and the dictatorship, contributed decisively towards the politicization of the armed forces, which took up the moralizing discourse of order against the anarchy of ‘politicians.’ The many pronunciamentos which occurred between Sidónio Pais’ murder and the victorious coup of 28 May 1926 prove this. Nevertheless, civic forces also reorganized themselves – if slowly – along anti-liberal lines. The various conservative blueprints – republican or monarchist – provided proof of the growing isolation of republican Jacobinism. The latter’s ability to sustain the regime in the name of a long-term project was ebbing away. Not all who opposed the republicans, of course, were Sidonistas. Many had even opposed the dictator, but his tragic death and the return to power of a bankrupt regime suited all of the opponents. It became both a point of reference and a focus of reverence. All that was missing was the unity that 1926 would bring: unity of the Army and civic forces against the Republic. The path to take could be decided after the regime’s overthrow. As in war, the death of Sidónio Pais was transformed into a source of commemoration. There is no need here to consider the degree of sincerity or opportunism of those who evoked the first of Coimbra’s dictators. What mattered for Portugal was their efficiency – about which there can be no question.
References Primary sources
Instituto de História Contemporânea – Universidade Nova de Lisboa: http://ihc.fcsh.unl.pt/
pt/recursos/biografias/item/4355-rego-jaime-daniel-leote-do-1867-1923 A Monarchia. Lisbon, 1916. A Monarquia. Diário Integralista da Tarde. Lisbon, 1917-1919. Dr. Sidónio Paes. Biblioteca Nacional de Portugal. S/R, 1918. Ordem Nova. Lisbon, 1926-1927. Revolução. Diário Nacional-sindicalista da Tarde. 1933. Secondary Sources Afonso, Aniceto (2009), “Portugal e a Guerra nas Colónias”. In Fernando Rosas and Maria Fernanda Rollo, (eds), História da Primeira República Portuguesa. Lisbon: Tinta da China, 287-299. Cabral, Manuel Vilaverde (2007), “A Grande Guerra e o Sidonismo (Esboço Interpretativo)”. In Pedro Lains and Nuno Estevão Ferreira, (eds), Portugal em Análise. Antologia. Lisbon: Imprensa de Ciências Sociais, 75-95. Calero, Francisco Sevillano (2010), “A ‘Cultura da Guerra’ do ‘Novo Estado’ Espanhol Como Princípio de Legitimação Política”. Denise Rollemberg and Samantha Quadrat, (eds), A Construção Social dos Regimes Autoritários. Legitimação, Consenso e Consentimento no Século XX – Europa. Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 257-282. Casimiro, Augusto (1919), Sidónio Pais (Algumas Notas Sobre a Intervenção de Portugal na Grande Guerra). Porto: Livraria Chardron. Correia, Sílvia (2015), Entre a Morte e o Mito. Políticas da Memória da I Guerra Mundial (1918-1933). Lisbon: Temas e Debates. Correia, Sílvia (2009), “A Memória da Guerra”. In Fernando Rosas and Maria Fernanda Rollo, (eds), História da Primeira República Portuguesa. Lisbon: Tinta da China, 349-370. Correia, Sílvia; Janeiro, Helena Pinto. 2013. “War Culture in the First World War: on the Portuguese Participation”. e-Journal of Portuguese History. vol. 11, number 2, Winter, 2013. Cruz, Manuel Braga da (1988), O Partido e o Estado no Salazarismo. Lisbon: Presença. Ferreira, José Medeiros (1992), O Comportamento Político dos Militares. Forças Armadas e Regimes Políticos em Portugal no Séc. XX. Lisbon: Editorial Estampa. Hermann, Jacqueline (1998), No Reino do Desejado: A Construção do Sebastianismo em Portugal – sécs. XVI-XVII. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras. Hespanha, António Manuel (1994), As Vésperas do Leviathan: Instituições e Poder Político em Portugal - séc. XVII. Coimbra: Almedina. Hobsbawm. Eric J. (1995), “A Queda do Liberalismo”. In A Era dos Extremos. O Breve Século XX, 1914-1991. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 113-143. Leal, Ernesto Castro (1999), Nação e Nacionalismos: A Cruzada Nacional D. Nuno Álvares Pereira e as Origens do Estado Novo (1918-1938). Lisbon: Cosmos. Leal, Ernesto Castro (1994), António Ferro: Espaço Político e Imaginário Social (1918-1932). Lisbon: Cosmos. Martins, Luís A. Ferreira (1934), Portugal na Grande Guerra. Vol. 1. Lisbon: Ática. Meneses, Filipe Ribeiro de (2010a), Afonso Costa. Lisbon: Texto Editora. Meneses, Filipe Ribeiro de (2010b), Salazar: Uma Biografia Política. Lisbon: D. Quixote. Meneses, Filipe Ribeiro de (2009), “Intervencionistas e Anti-intervencionistas”. In Fernando Rosas and Maria Fernanda Rollo, (eds), História da Primeira República Portuguesa. Lisbon: Tinta da China, 267-276. Meneses, Filipe Ribeiro de (2006), “A Comemoração da Grande Guerra em Portugal, 1919-1926”. Revista Portuguesa de História, vol. 38, 109-133. Monteiro, Nuno G. and Pinto, António Costa (2005), “A Identidade Nacional Portuguesa”. In António Costa Pinto, (ed.), Portugal Contemporâneo. Lisbon: D. Quixote, 51-65. Ramos, Rui (2009), “A República Antes da Guerra (1910-1916)” and “A República Durante e Depois da Guerra (1917-1926)”. In Rui Ramos, Bernardo Vasconcelos e Sousa and Nuno Monteiro (eds.), História de Portugal. Lisbon: A Esfera dos Livros, 577-603 and 605-625. Rego, Raul (1978), História da República. Do Sidonismo ao 28 de Maio Vol. 4. Lisbon: Círculo de Leitores. Reis, António (2003), Raul Proença: Biografia de um Intelectual Político Republicano. Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional – Casa da Moeda. Salazar, António Oliveira (1916), A Questão Cerealífera. Provas apresentadas para o ingresso como Assistente na Universidade de Coimbra. Coimbra. Samara, Maria Alice (2010), “ Sidonismo e Restauração da República. Uma ‘Encruzilhada de Paixões Contraditórias’ “. In Fernando Rosas and Maria Fernanda Rollo (eds). História da Primeira República Portuguesa. Lisbon: Tinta da China, 371-395. Silva, Armando B. Malheiro (2003), “Uma Eperiência Presidencialista em Portugal (1917-1918)”. In Christiane Marques Szesz; Maria Manuela Tavares Ribeiro; Sandra Maria Lubisco Brancato; Renato Lopes Leite; Artur César Isaia (eds), Portugal-Brasil no Século XX. Sociedade, Cultura e Ideologia. Bauru/São Paulo: Edusc, 49-86.
Notes
1 Faculty of Filosophy, Arts and Human Sciences. Department of History. University of São Paulo. São Paulo, Brazil - 05508-900. E-mail: [email protected].
Received for publication: 14 October 2016
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