The Anarchist Expropriators: Buenaventura Durruti and Argentina's Working-Class Robin Hoods

by Osvaldo Bayer, Paul Sharkey (Translator)

Osvaldo Bayer's study of working-class retribution, set between 1919 and 1936, chronicles hair-raising robberies, bombings, and tit-for-tat murders conducted by Argentina's working men. Intense repression of labor organizations, newspapers, and meeting places by authorities set off a wave of illegal acts meant to secure funds and settle scores. Escaping similar repression at home, future Spanish Civil War hero Buenaventura Durruti joins the cast on a spree of robberies, ending in a narrow escape back to Europe. Osvaldo Bayer is an anarchist pacifist, author, and screenwriter living in Buenos Aires, Argentina. He is the author of Rebellion in Patagonia (forthcoming from AK Press).

Genres: History, Politics, Nonfiction

90 pages, Paperback

First published November 1, 2003

About the author

Osvaldo Jorge Bayer es un historiador, escritor y periodista anarquista argentino. Vive en Buenos Aires, pero también tuvo domicilio en Berlín, donde se exilió antes de la última dictadura cívico-militar de Argentina (1976-1983).

Entre 1975 y 1983, Osvaldo Bayer debió exiliarse, al prohibirse el film "La Patagonia Rebelde" y los libros de ese mismo nombre, además del "Severino Di Giovanni". En Alemania, donde vivió todos esos años formó parte de diversos organismos de Derechos Humanos y habló en más de cien actos en Europa denunciando los métodos de la dictadura militar. En 1997 recibió el premio "Veinte años de Madres de Plaza de Mayo", que en declaraciones públicas lo ha denominado "el premio que más valora".

Osvaldo Bayer fue declarado doctor honoris causa por las universidades patagónicas del Comahue y de la Patagonia Austral. Su última obra es literaria, la novela "Rainer y Minou". editada en el año 2002.

Reviews

[Margaret Killjoy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Solidly entertaining and gave me way too much to chew on as far as how history repeats itself.

While the bias of the author and editor comes through clearly (they believe that the expropriators were probably not the best thing to happen to Argentina's anarchist movement, but that the organizationalist response to them was heavy-handed and uncomradely), and it's clear which characters the author sympathizes with more than others, this is a pretty epic tale of real life anarchist gangsters.

[foxfire · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fun, fast paced history of an incredible period in history. Osvaldo Bayer is the anarchist's historian, I only wish there was some regular citation of sources so that others could attempt to follow his example.

[Ian Chinich · Rating 4 out of 5]

After reading Patagonia Rebelde by Bayer, I figured I would check this one out too to get a more rounded idea of the development of Argentine Anarchism. While it appears that much of the same activity was happening as in Spain, it seems weaker, more divided, less developed in revolutionary theory than in individualistic propaganda of the deed, and created cycles of attack and counter attack to raise money to get comrades out of jail.

The actual murders of anarchists by other anarchists in debates over expropriation seems rather relevant for today's sectarianism and only furthers my view that we must support our comrades who are attacked by the state, while building up a credible revolutionary infrastructure who can actually revolt. This urban guerrilla activity is a necessary experience which came out of a very repressive situation, but ultimately failed. We need to examine historical periods like this if we can ultimately learn from our mistakes and hope to build a powerful movement that can take on our class enemies.

[Adam · Rating 4 out of 5]

This short book really challenged your morality on what length it's acceptable to go to in the funding of a radical (in this case anarchist) movement. The expropriators didn't believe in property or capital so they saw nothing wrong in stealing from any business owner or bank (sometimes with casualties along the way) to fund the movement. It also highlights the strong division amongst the ideological anarchists and the expropriators (to give you an idea- the ideologues continually shamed the expropriators to the point where an expropriator murdered the editor of their magazine 'La Protesta'.) I would highly recommend this book to anyone interested in anarchism and radical movements in general.

[Felipe · Rating 4 out of 5]

Este libro está compuesto de 6 artículos. Tres sobre el anarquismo y tres de relleno sobre investigaciones o eventos sucedidos en (o a la orilla de) Argentina.

Bayer escribe muy bien, con una cadencia muy atrapante. No me llega a convencer de todo la falta de fuentes en sus escritos. Entiendo que si no se volvería tedioso leerlo pero a veces alguna cosa falta. De los seis artículos, sólo el tercero cuenta con fuentes claras (ya que viene de una publicación en una revista).
Para el resto hay que confiar en que de algún lugar sacó todo eso.

La historia del anarquismo en Argentina es alucinante y en los tres primeros artículos ("Los anarquistas expropiadores", "Los rebeldes de Jacinto Cruz" y "La influencia de la inmigración italiana en el movimiento anarquista argentino") Bayer logra armar ese universo tomando diferentes agrupaciones, momentos y lugares para entender no tanto cómo surgió el movimiento sino, más bien, cómo de a poco se fue viendo acorralado por un aparato represor que se vuelve cada vez más salvaje, culminando en la dictadura de Uriburu.
Bayer intenta explicar que trata de ser objetivo y no disminuir la violencia anarquista, pero siendo él mismo partidario del movimiento, le cuesta. Lo cual para mí es un punto a favor. Un objetivismo frío equipararía, quizás violencia anarquista con violencia estatal, y dejaría de lado las desigualdades que están en la raíz de uno y el otro.

Luego le siguen tres ensayos agrupados bajo el título: "Encubrimientos, negociados y miserias del poder"
El primero, "Palomar: el negociado que conmovió a un régimen", parte del sucidio de un diputado en 1940 y rearma el entramado de corrupción en la venta de terrenos que lo llevó a ese acto. Bayer también lo relaciona con la cotienda política interna al gobierno, con un presidente Ortiz moribundo y un Castillo que va a querer aferrarse al poder y echarle en cara el negociado a su predecesor.

El segundo, "El naufragio de la Rosales: una tragedia argentina" tiene el estilo de película de juicios, muy al estilo de Paths of Glory de Kubrick. Un evento que parece haber conmovido al país en 1892 pero que hoy ni lo recordamos. La nave Rosales se hunde frente a las costas de Uruguay y se salvan sólo los de mayor rango. A partir de ahí, hay una historia oficial que protege al capitán, con la connivencia de políticos y Marina y una que intenta defender el fiscal del caso (y que Bayer toma como probable) que es que dejó morir a la tripulación y se escapó con los oficiales en vez de velar por su barco como lo marcarían las reglas de la marina.
Una historia que perfectamente puede resonar hoy en día con el caso del submarino ARA San Juan.

El tercero, "Graff Spee. El fin del corsario" no tiene que ver con negociados ni trampas ni nada. Solamente narra los eventos que llevaron a que el famoso barco nazi quede atrapado en Montevideo y cómo luego se hace hundir en el Río de la Plata. Todos conocemos que en Villa General Belgrano se radicaron muchos de sus tripulantes, pero al menos yo no conocía la historia de los pormenores del barco. Lejos de caer en la típica historia de aliados vs nazis, la historia se centra más en el temple y la entereza de la tripulación (quizás para contrastar con la historia anterior) y aparece la identidad marinera que permite que ingleses y alemanes se feliciten y admiren entre ellos luego de batallas en el mar.

En resumen: leelo que está bueno y vas a conocer más cosas de tu país. Sabé que en la última dictadura desaparecieron 8000 ejemplares de algunas de estas investigaciones así que algo interesante debe tener.

[Jag · Rating 4 out of 5]

Una disculpa, pero el relato que más me gustó no es el que le da título a este compendio. Ni siquiera yo entiendo bien por qué disfruté tanto El naufragio de la «Rosales»: una tragedia argentina; creo que, más allá de que la historia es buena, tiene que ver con la forma en que está escrita. Se sentía como leer un chisme, y por el mismo motivo disfruté mucho Palomar: el negociado que conmovió a un régimen, porque, seamos honestos, ¿quién no disfruta de un buen chisme? Por otro lado, estuvo chido conocer más sobre Simón Radowitzky y Los rebeldes de Jacinto Aráuz.

No voy a mentir, el fragmento de La influencia de la inmigración italiana en el movimiento anarquista argentino sí me dio un poco de hueva, sobre todo por ese eterno sentimiento europeísta que arrastra el país. Aun así, terminé Los anarquistas expropiadores sintiéndome bastante más educado. No tenía la menor idea de que uno de los golpes más duros al anarquismo viniera desde el comunismo y no directamente desde el capitalismo. Viva el anarquismo y Flores Magón.

El estilo de Osvaldo Bayer es, para mi sorpresa, lo que termina sosteniendo todo el libro. Es un autor que investiga a fondo, pero escribe sin acartonarse. La historia esta narrada con una claridad casi periodística, sin perder el pulso narrativo ni la indignación. Bayer no predica; deja que los hechos hablen y que el lector se enoje solo. Hay una mezcla muy efectiva entre rigor histórico y una prosa que se siente cercana, incluso cuando está hablando de tragedias, traiciones y derrotas políticas. Eso hace que el libro se lea más como una conversación apasionada que como una lección de historia.

Esta es la victima; pero no sólo de la pena que le infringen los perversos, sino también de aquellos «hombres honestos» que no han deshonrado en ellos toda legalidad. Esta es la palinodia que hay que cantar frente a los delincuentes. Todo puritano, aunque se diga anarquista, es en el fondo un legalitario; como toda mujer que se envanece de la castidad de su alma en el fondo una burguesa. Su capital de virtud, como el del burgués está hecho de las desventuras de sus hermanas. El delincuente es un despojado de su honradez; la prostituta es una desposeída de su amor virtuoso. Un anarquista frente a ellos nunca puede preguntase si son buenos o son malos, sino atraerlos al foco de sus reivindicaciones contra los burgueses y contra las burguesas. Reparto y reparto de todo. Menos virtudes legales; más militancia anarquista».

[Adam McPhee · Rating 3 out of 5]

History as a series of anecdotes. Pretty good.

The best is the prison break in Uruguay. The anarchists set up a coal face literally next door to the prison and dug tunnels to the prisoners' washroom. The problem hit a snag though because the Italian coal mine operators were too beloved by their neighbours (consider that they didn't need the coal and so the "Good Deal Coal Yard" sold it as cheap as they could to get rid of it) and so when the prisoners started emerging from the tunnel, the neighbours assumed they were coal thieves and call the prison guards and police, who didn't even know an escape attempt was underway. Most of them made it out though.

Another good one was Russian anarchist Wladimirovich, who became something of a celebrity after being arrested in then backwater Buenos Aires. Politicians wanted to hear what he had to say, and so visited him in solitary confinement, much to the consternation of his warden.

Durruti, despite the subtitle, doesn't play that big of a role, but it is interesting to see what he was up to in South America.

The underlying theme of the book is the question of when to use violence. Bayer says he's against it and is only recounting history, but then you have to ask what draws him to this history in the first place. On the other hand, as you can surmise from the above anecdotes, anarchist violence didn't really seem to accomplish much in Argentina. They robbed a few banks, they killed a few police (which only drew further heat down on themselves), and they helped a few of their comrades escape prison. Hardly the stuff of systemic change. And yet it makes for great stories, more so than the tales of competing newspapers and bickering you get in the from leftist groups that renounce violence.

[n · Rating 3 out of 5]

I can't tell if it's because of the translation or if it's just... not great. Or maybe it's both? But either way, it really is quite tedious for something that you think would be engaging and interesting. It really was a struggle for it to hold my attention, which was... weird considering expropriation is a topic that I'm rather interested in.

There's also little real commentary about expropriation and the ways of doing it. It's more like a bit of a story of individual events that all were, to some extent connected. Which is fine, but that wasn't really what I was sold. And it comes off as being a bit... obnoxious because it refuses to really acknowledge that there is a place for expropriation, though we need to have less of a masculinist tendency behind it (which would've been an interesting point to engage with, since it was also hyper-focused on such tendencies).

Just... felt lacking. Not horrible, not great.... Disappointing? To an extent.

[Mel · Rating 2 out of 5]

On the one hand, it is always interesting to read about some piece of anarchist history that I knew nothing about. On the other hand, I'm exhausted with reading about self righteous male anarchists with almost no context about how their actions affected the other people (particularly the women) in their communities. The book itself is a sprint that doesn't stop for a ton of reflection. Though I suppose it could kick start a fairly interesting conversation and might not be a bad book group choice for those who want to talk about ways and means using a real historical example.

[Stephanie · Rating 3 out of 5]

More of a narrative work than theoretical, with little inclusion on reflection or self-reflexivity. Nevertheless, a fascinating (albeit brief) case study in the history of factionalism in anarchist movements.

[Camii · Rating 4 out of 5]

Super interesante la investigación y la forma novelesca en la que está presentada, no me aburrió en ningún momento. Btw, gracias FCE por regalarlo aunque nos hayan cagado repartiendo los sets de 4 libros antes de horario.

[Mercedes Fernández Tío · Rating 5 out of 5]

Increíble.
Otro libro que me cambió la vida.
Que me hizo replantearme mis metas, mis medios, mis posibilidades.

[Cristhian · Rating 4 out of 5]

LA OBRA de Osvaldo Bayer. Hermosa, poética y verídica.

[Catfish · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was delighted to get this ebook through the Friends of AK Press program. I had no idea about Argentinian labor and anarchist movements let alone the fact that Durutti was active in Argentina before burning churches in Spain. Woah. Also, I like the character of Morán and his work in the maritime workers' dock strikes. These gangs or crews would typically rob banks or businesses and use the money for prisoner support, to aid the families of those in prison, or to work on digging holes to help prisoners escape--among many other projects.

The narrator simply lays out the history and mostly abstains from judgement of their tactics. There are lessons to be learned about effective tactics and the narrator urges us to look at the events as in a particular time and space--subjectively.

This is a reissue of a companion piece to a book written in 1970. It has great new graphic design by Josh MacPhee.

[Marius Jaan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bayer’s admiration and respect, if not outright support, for expropriators’ deeds is hard to miss in AK Press’s first English publication of Bayer’s The Anarchist Expropriators (originally published in Spanish in 1975). It is an engaging and enjoyable translation; the book is an important contribution to understanding anarchist expropriation strategies and histories.

Durruti is an important figure in anarchist and expropriation histories and narratives. Given the time line and events discussed in the book, Durruti’s name in the subtitle seems more centered on drawing attention to the book than accurately reflecting on Durruti’s relevance to the content. Yes, Durutti brought influence, fame, and notoriety—and thus potential recruits, drama, and impact—to Argentina’s movement. Sure. More interesting than Durruti’s brief visit to South America is the sheer number of apparently highly motivated no-names who took it upon themselves to expropriate funds in order to support anarchist prisoners, their social work, and their community organizations as well as their own needs. In other words, the book’s greatest value is that it shows how literally anyone—not some hero or anti-hero—can engage in expropriation in order to support their cause, families, struggle, or political prisoners.

The opening introduction provides a good overview. It helps contextualize Bayer and South American anarchism for those unfamiliar with them. Also set forth is a discussion of global connections and anarchist networks. The key events timeline at the very front offers additional useful context and structure to understand the multiple events and actors.

It was refreshing to see how central prison liberation was for many of the expropriators. They used funds not just to feed and support prisoners; they also sought to fully liberate them. More than just words, their solidarity with political prisoners is inspiring and impressive.

The book is well made, easy to read, and easily fits in the pocket. Frankly, Argentinian comrades’ deeds are more inspiring than the Bonnot gang’s because the South Americans were using funds to support prisoners and seemed less driven for individualistic needs—at least that’s what is most represented in Bayer’s volume.

Worth reading. Worth buying.