The Dreyfus Affair in Spain: Zola and the Rise of the Intellectual in Spain

THE DREYFUS AFFAIR IN SPAIN: ZOLA AND THE RISE OF THE INTELLECTUAL IN SPAIN

______

A Thesis

Presented to

The Faculty of the Department

of History

University of Houston

______

In Partial Fulfillment

Of the Requirements for the Degree of

Masters of Arts

______

Bethany Joy B. Hood

May, 2017

i THE DREYFUS AFFAIR IN SPAIN: ZOLA AND THE RISE OF THE INTELLECTUAL IN SPAIN

______

An Abstract of a Thesis

Presented to

The Faculty of the Department

of History

University of Houston

______

In Partial Fulfillment

Of the Requirements for the Degree of

Masters of Arts

______

Bethany Joy B. Hood

May, 2017

iii

ABSTRACT

This thesis briefly examines the influence of the Dreyfus Affair in Spain, specifically examining how Émile Zola and the development of the French intellectual directly influenced the creation of a Spanish intellectual movement at the end of the nineteenth century. By examining primary sources like Spanish newspapers and letters written to and from Zola, it seeks to add to the historiographical discussion of the Dreyfus Affair by tracing the role of Zola in Spanish conversations surrounding the Affair. Emboldened by Zola,

Spanish intellectuals then used the Dreyfus Affair as a platform to promote their own ideological visions of Spain. Specifically, Spanish intellectuals sought Spanish social and political reform in an corrupt, established two-party political system, publically denouncing the failures of the ruling Spanish regime. It also compares both French and Spanish public sentiment surrounding the Affair, primarily examining urban middle class intellectuals residing in Barcelona, Madrid, Cádiz, and Paris.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction 1

Chapter 1. The Dreyfus Affair in France 4

Summary of the Dreyfus Affair 4

Jews in France 16

Impact of French Newspapers 24

List of Leading French Newspapers 28

The Third Republic Versus Conservative French Institutions 29

Development of the Intellectual in France 31

Chapter 2. The Dreyfus Affair in Spain 38

Jews in Spain 40

Impact of Spanish Newspapers 47

List of Leading Spanish Newspapers 48

Spanish Government 58

Chapter 3. Émile Zola and the Development of the Spanish Intellectual 70

The Birth of the Spanish Intellectual 71

Spanish Eyes on Zola 76

Spanish Intellectuals Take Action 82

Conclusion 92

Bibliography 94

INTRODUCTION

The Dreyfus Affair exists as a defining, watershed moment in nineteenth-century

France, often considered one of the most egregious perversions of justice the world has ever seen. This scandal, in which French Jewish military officer Alfred Dreyfus was wrongfully accused and convicted of high treason, quickly emerged as an international phenomenon that shook Europe and the United States. Continued fascination with the trial, conviction, and eventual exoneration of Alfred Dreyfus has resulted in more than one thousand publications on the Affair, which have examined numerous cultural, political, and social issues such as gender, religion, and race. Moreover, the era’s incessant obsession with the Affair exceeded interest in Alfred Dreyfus himself; it signified larger social and political debates, particularly the fight between conservatives and progressives battling for the heart and soul of fin de siècle Europe. Progressives and the increasingly relevant intellectuals typically emerged as

Dreyfusards (supporters of Dreyfus), challenging traditional dogma and political entities in hopes of advancing towards a more modern and liberal society. On the other hand, conservatives, including the Catholic Church, military, and monarchists, almost always sided with the anti-Dreyfusards and voiced their opposition to Dreyfus as a means of defending their waning relevance and power. They used this movement to promote conversations regarding a new French nationalism, resulting in the development of the extreme right in

France. The Dreyfus Affair forced both of these groups to define “Truth and Justice,” and prodded entire nations to consider what values they wanted as indicative of their homelands.

These issues exceeded French borders, gaining attention in the rest of Europe and the

United States. The Dreyfus Affair was so significant that historians have extensively

examined the impact of the Affair in Russia, Germany, Austria-Hungary, Italy, Great Britain, and the United States. However, regardless of the vast and continually expanding historiography of the Dreyfus Affair, there still remain major gaps. Despite being referenced as the “Scandal of the [nineteenth] Century” and “The Scandal That Tore France in Two,”1 minimal research has been produced concerning the affect of the Dreyfus Affair on Spain. Of the limited inquiry that has been completed, publications scarcely exist in the English language. This is a significant void in the historiography of the Dreyfus Affair, especially because of the significant and direct influence of French intellectual Émile Zola on the late nineteenth-century social and political developments in Spanish society.

This thesis will fill a small part of that historiographical void, and examine the far- reaching influence of Zola and the Dreyfus Affair on Spain’s political evolution. Specifically, it argues that Zola and the “development of the Intellectual” provided a platform at the end of the nineteenth century on which Spaniards seeking Spanish social and political reform could promote new political ideologies in an established two-party political system, publicly denouncing the failures of a corrupt ruling Spanish regime. The term “Intellectual” referred in fin de siècle Europe to an individual who was “prepared to intervene in the public sphere of politics” and “create public discourse” as a means to defend justice or represent the dispossessed and unrepresented members of society.2 “It was therefore the action of

1. Each of these labels was used as the title of two of the leading books on the Affair. The first refers to Ruth Harris’s book Dreyfus: Politics, Emotion, and the Scandal of the Century. The second stems from Piers Paul Read’s The Dreyfus Affair: The Scandal That Tore France in Two.

2. This definition is modified from Jeremy Jennings and Anthony Kemp-Welch’s definitions of an intellectual found on pages 2 and 7 of their book Intellectuals in Politics: From the Dreyfus Affair to Salman Rushdie.

intervening in politics by intellectuals that was constitutive of the definition of the noun.”3

Additionally, this thesis will focus primarily on the major intellectual and political hubs of nineteenth-century Spain such as Madrid, Barcelona, and Cádiz.

3. Jeremy Jennings and Kemp-Welch, eds., Intellectuals in Politics: From the Dreyfus Affair to Salman Rushdie (London: Routledge, 1997), 7.

CHAPTER 1

THE DREYFUS AFFAIR IN FRANCE

Summary of the Dreyfus Affair

The sequence of events leading to the Dreyfus Affair began in August 1894, when, while disguised as a cleaning lady in the German Embassy, French spy Mademoiselle Marie-

Caudron Bastian discovered a tattered note in the trashcan of German military officer

Maximilian von Schwartzkoppen. The message indicated that a French military officer had been selling the Germans military secrets. This note, which later became famously known as the bordereau, contained information regarding French military tactics and training details.

Although there was no signature indicating the author, the writer stated that he was “off on manoeuvres,” suggesting that the traitor was a high ranking military officer.1 Evidence of treason was especially heinous following France’s devastating loss to the German Empire in the Franco-Prussian War in 1871, and leading military officials immediately ordered an investigation. The chief investigators narrowed their suspects to 220 officers from various branches of the military. Upon further inquiry, investigators soon determined that the conspirator had to be an artillery officer on the General Staff of the French Army.

With virtually no leads in the investigation, newly appointed Commandant Albert d’Aboville suggested that the traitor might be an intern who had performed poorly on his evaluations. D’Aboville, along with Colonel Pierre-Élie Fabre, examined samples of the potential conspirators’ handwriting and deduced that it most closely resembled the script of

Army officer Captain Alfred Dreyfus, who had been on military exercises at the same time

1. Piers Paul Read, The Dreyfus Affair: The Scandal That Tore France in Two (New York: Bloomsbury Press, 2012), 60.

4 that the bordereau was written. In addition to having handwriting similar as to that of the bordereau, there were several other factors against Dreyfus. He spoke German, was a Jew, and had grown up in Alsace-Lorraine, which had been annexed by Prussia after France’s loss in the Franco-Prussian War. Ironically, despite begrudgingly giving this territory to the

Prussians and maintaining France’s claim to the region, France was suspicious of the citizens of Alsace- Lorraine. Although citizens of Alsace-Lorraine were previously considered

Frenchmen, there was an element of ambiguity surrounding the identities of people from this area as they spoke a German dialect. Were they French? Or were they German? Some leaders in turn questioned the loyalty of many from the region, inciting discussions about nationalism and allegiance to the Third Republic.

Having gathered this information about Dreyfus, Commandant D’ Aboville and

Colonel Fabre quickly enlisted the opinion of Major Ferdinand du Paty de Clam who served part time as an amateur graphologist. After one full Sunday of analysis, du Paty de Clam concluded that despite slight differences, the similarities of Dreyfus’s handwriting to the author of the bordereau were significant enough to warrant further investigation. This recommendation was then presented to the Minister of War, General Auguste Mercier.

However, Mercier was discouraged from pursuing the evidence by the Military Governor of

Paris, General Félix Saussier, as he feared that accusations of espionage might smear the image of the Army. Yet General Mercier ignored Saussier’s counsel and passionately pursued the inquiry, enlisting the expert opinion of graphologist Alfred Gobert. His findings indicated that while the two samples of handwriting were “of the same graphic type,” there were “numerous and important disparities which had to be taken into account.”2 However,

2. Read, 68.

Gobert’s conclusion did not deter Mercier’s decision to follow this path of inquisition.

Mercier quickly elicited a second opinion which aligned with his estimations, identifying

Dreyfus’s handwriting as comparable to that of the author of the bordereau. Mercier then concocted an elaborate plan to acquire a sample of Dreyfus’s handwriting and “catch”

Dreyfus as the traitor.

On October 14, 1894, Captain Dreyfus was summoned to the General Staff headquarters under the guise of participating in a military general inspection. Immediately upon arrival, du Paty de Clam handed Dreyfus paperwork to complete. After finishing the form, du Paty de Clam claimed that he was experiencing pain in his hand and requested that

Dreyfus transcribe a letter on his behalf to the Chief Army General Staff, General Raoul

François Charles le Mouton de Boisdeffre. Dreyfus complied and half way through writing the letter du Paty de Clam exclaimed “In the name of the law, I arrest you. You are accused of the crime of high treason!”3 An obviously perplexed Dreyfus was then immediately arrested and interrogated for over three hours, maintaining his innocence throughout the entire questioning. When the interrogation finally ended, Dreyfus was locked in a cell where he remained bewildered and without human interaction for two full days.

The next two months proved a whirlwind for Dreyfus, and on December 22, 1894, just four months after the note was found and despite any concrete evidence against Dreyfus, the military court unanimously found him guilty of high treason. Dreyfus was sentenced to military degradation and exile for life in a fortified enclosure at a French penal colony on

Devil’s Island in French Guiana. Additionally, he was required to pay all costs associated

3. Read, 87.

6 with the trial which amounted to 1,615 francs and 70 centimes.4 Despite Dreyfus having maintained his innocence throughout the entire process, Du Paty de Clam offered Dreyfus a deal. He said that in exchange for a partial confession from Dreyfus, he would subject

Dreyfus to a “less rigorous regime” while serving his punishment on Devil’s Island.5 Dreyfus vehemently denied the offer, stating repeatedly that he was innocent in an attempt to maintain his honor. Ironically, Commandant du Paty de Clam’s response to Dreyfus’s declaration of innocence encompasses the essence of the Dreyfus Affair. He claimed, “If you are innocent, you are the greatest martyr of all time.”6 Unfortunately, the Dreyfus Affair proved that Dreyfus had become exactly that—a modern-day martyr.

Despite the lack of evidence again Dreyfus, few supported his cause except a small circle of family and friends, and they were shocked at the outcome of his trial. Even the

Jewish community failed to publically discuss the verdict for fear of retribution or associating themselves too closely with a convicted traitor.7 French Jews had long sought to defend their French identity and fully assimilate into French society, and supporting a convicted traitor would only hurt their aspirations. Some Jews with the name Dreyfus who were entirely unrelated to the family went as far as to change their names because the name

Dreyfus had become synonymous with treason.8 On January 5, 1895, Dreyfus was dishonorably discharged from the Army and forced to endure a public military degradation on the Champ de Mars. Dreyfus remained stoic during the humiliating event, claiming that

4. This amounted to $334.00 during the nineteenth century.

5. Read, 121.

6. Ibid.

7. Read, 111.

8. Ibid., 146.

7 the French had convicted an innocent man. Three months later Dreyfus was moved from his holding cell in a French prison to a fortified enclosure on Devil’s Island in French Guiana, over 4,300 miles away from everything he knew and loved. In addition to its distant location, this penal colony of Cayenne was extremely secure and difficult to access due to strong currents which notoriously defined the Passé des Grenadines in which it was located.

A turning point in the Affair came in 1895, when evidence surfaced to indicate that the real treasonous perpetrator behind the bordereau was not Dreyfus, but was French commissioned Officer Comte Marie-Charles-Ferdinand Walsin Esterhazy. Although Dreyfus was securely exiled on Devil’s Island, Mme Bastian-- the French spy disguised as a cleaning lady who had discovered the original bordereau-- discovered another treasonous note in a trashcan from the German Embassy. However, unlike the bordereau, this note, referenced as the petit bleu, was signed “Monsieur le Commandant Esterhazy, 27, rue de la Bienfaisance,

Paris.”9 This evidence of treason was presented to Lieutenant-Colonel Hubert Joseph Henry who had been a key player in the arrest and conviction of Alfred Dreyfus, as well as a close and long time friend of Esterhazy. Due to their personal relationship, Henry did not aggressively pursue this new lead; however, the newly promoted Colonel Georges Picquart, who had played a peripheral role in the original arrest and conviction of Dreyfus, gained access to this file and decided to quietly and independently inquire about Esterhazy. After five months of closely probing about and watching Esterhazy, Picquart decided to surpass his superiors and take his findings directly to the Chief of the General Staff, General de

Boisdeffre.

Boisdeffre, fearing a repeat of the public spectacle the Dreyfus Affair had originally created, encouraged Picquart to give his report to the Minister of War, General Jean-Baptiste

9. Read. 164.

Billot. General Billot gained access to a sample of Esterhazy’s handwriting, and Picquart, who had previously been completely convinced of Dreyfus’s guilt, was immediately struck by the similarity of Esterhazy’s handwriting to that of the author of the bordereau. Colonel

Picquart instantly employed a professional graphologist to compare the two samples, and he finally revealed the truth surrounding the Dreyfus Affair. “Dreyfus had been convicted of

Esterhazy’s crime.”10

Colonel Picquart relayed his newly discovered revelation to his superiors immediately, thinking they would certainly correct their mistake and overturn Dreyfus’s conviction and arrest the unmistakably culpable Esterhazy. However, to Picquart’s surprise and disappointment, General Billot and Generals de Boisdeffre and Gonse had yet to determine their next step. The French military leaders were acutely aware of the detrimental impact France’s recent loss to the Germans had inflicted on public morale. Not only was the

Franco-Prussian war a crushing defeat resulting in the formation of a fortified German

Empire, the failure had been an embarrassment for the French military. The Germans had annexed the territory of Alsace-Lorraine, and France fell, resulting in the establishment of the

Third Republic. From the start, the Third Republic had been unstable, and the Dreyfus Affair perpetuated deep social and political instability. Additionally, military officials’ recognized that public knowledge that the French Army had convicted the wrong person for selling military secrets to the Germans would increase public dissatisfaction and distrust in the army.

Historically, the army had represented the national identity of the political right in France.

Furthermore, should the military arrest and try Esterhazy, Boisdeffre and Gonse feared he might incriminate other military officials, leading to chaos and a crippling rupture of French society. Thus, after a brief meeting, the leaders determined that the face of a unified French

10. Read, 166.

9 military was more significant than the life of any one man. Consequently, to Colonel

Picquart’s dismay, rather than correct their error and release Dreyfus from Devil’s Island, the military resolved to mask Picquart’s recent discoveries incriminating Esterhazy, leaving

Dreyfus to serve the remainder of his sentence in exile. When Picquart adamantly opposed this arrangement Gonse responded, “What does it matter to you if that Jew stays on Devil’s

Island?...If you keep quiet, no one will know.”11

Despite the military’s decision to remain silent and destroy the new evidence proving

Dreyfus innocent, the details of the findings eventually leaked to the public. On September

14, 1896, the French newspaper L’Eclair (the title refers to a flash of lightening) published information which claimed, along with other details, that the Ministry of War possessed

“irrefutable, material proof” of Dreyfus’s guilt.12 While these details did not alter public opinion or renew public interest with the Affair, they did offer Dreyfus’s brother, Mathieu

Dreyfus, and his wife, Lucie Dreyfus, the opportunity to publically voice their concerns and dissatisfaction with both the process and outcome of Dreyfus’s trial. Throughout the entire humiliating ordeal, they had offered Dreyfus unwavering support, but neither of them had previously been shown this damning evidence against Dreyfus. Lucie Dreyfus used these claims as the basis of her petition to the Chamber of Deputies, a letter which was eventually published by several newspapers. Moreover, knowing that someone had leaked details to the press made military leaders increasingly uncomfortable and ever more desperate to reinforce the details of their case against Dreyfus. Therefore, on November 1, Commandant Henry secretly forged letters between the Italian military attaché, Panizzardi, and his German informant and Panizzardi’s lover Schwartzkoppen which incriminated Dreyfus, indicating

11. Read, 168.

12. Jean-Denis Bredin, The Affair: The Case of Alfred Dreyfus (New York: G. Braziller, 1986), 169.

10 that he was the author of the bordereau. These documents were then added to Dreyfus’s file as evidence against him.

However, despite the military’s diligence in securing their case against Dreyfus, in

November 1896 the French newspaper Le Matin published a photograph of the bordereau, hoping to provide irrefutable evidence incriminating Alfred Dreyfus. Both Mathieu and

Lucie immediately recognized the difference between the two scripts and placed posters all over Paris which displayed a picture of the bordereau next to a sample of Dreyfus’s own handwriting. The obvious disparity between the two samples was enough to raise doubt amongst many French citizens about Dreyfus’s culpability. Even the Vice-President of the

Senate, Auguste Scheurer-Kestner became a skeptic. To make matters worse for the military, a South American stockbroker, Jacques de Castro, recognized the handwriting as that of his former client Officer Comte Marie-Charles-Ferdinand Walsin Esterhazy. To the military’s dismay, Castro revealed his observation to Mathieu Dreyfus who immediately took the information directly to Senator Scheurer-Kestner. Scheurer-Kestner, relieved at finally being able to acknowledge his own hesitations, admitted his doubts to Mathieu and opened an investigation into Esterhazy.

Military commander of the Department of the Seine, General Georges de Pellieux, was appointed lead on the investigation of Commandant Esterhazy. While Generals

Boisdeffre and Gonse exhausted every resource to present Esterhazy in an innocent light, they still feared that a civil suit or any issue taken outside of a military court martial would expose their elaborate plan to keep Dreyfus on Devil’s Island. Pellieux eventually submitted his report and declared Esterhazy innocent of treason. However, Pellieux noted that during his investigation he had observed Esterhazy engaging in activities “very close to dishonour”

11 and recommended a separate inquiry due to his “infringements against honour and grave errors committed while in service.”13 In a desperate attempt to maintain any respect,

Esterhazy insisted on a court martial to defend his innocence. A spectacle was then staged by the military. In January 1898, Esterhazy was tried and unanimously acquitted of treason by court martial. Shortly after, to destroy any loose ends, the military voted to remove Scheurer-

Kestner from his position as Vice-President and arrested Picquart on suspicion of “imparting official secrets to a civilian.”14

Esterhazy’s acquittal sparked outrage among Dreyfusards, reinvigorating Dreyfus as a relevant household name. Dreyfusards demanded a retrial for Alfred Dreyfus and publically declared the military corrupt. In that atmosphere Émile Zola published his incendiary letter

“J’Accuse” in the French newspaper L’Aurore on January 13, 1898. Zola, a leading nineteenth-century French intellectual, author, and political activist, addressed his letter to the President of the Republic, Monsieur le Président Félix Faure, intending to amplify the clear perversion of justice surrounding the Affair. In his letter, Zola specifically accused by name the key military and political figures who had allowed or actively been involved in condemning Dreyfus and concealing the identity of the true perpetrator Esterhazy. Zola received overwhelming backlash from conservatives for his position on the Affair. Negative political propaganda and anti-Semitic literature and caricatures aimed against him flooded

French newspapers. Nevertheless, he refused to back down or be deterred from doing what he knew was morally just. He famously stated in J’Accuse, “As they have dared...I shall dare

13. Read, 203.

14. Ibid., 209.

12 too. I shall tell the truth, for I pledged that I would tell it...the whole truth...It is my duty to speak up.”15

Zola publically criticized members of the military, starting with Major du Paty de

Clam. Zola accused Major de Clam of deliberately fabricating the Dreyfus scandal out of a desire to advance his own military career and witness the destruction of Dreyfus the Jew.

Zola declared, “...it was du Paty de Clam who invented Dreyfus. The Affair became his affair.”16 He continued, summarizing the Affair:

As I have already shown, the Dreyfus Affair was the Affair of the War Office: an officer from the General Staff denounced by his fellow officers on the General Staff, sentenced under pressure from the Chiefs of the General Staff. And I repeat, he cannot emerge from his trial innocent without all of the General Staff being guilty. Which is why the War Office employed every means imaginable—campaigns in the press, statements and innuendoes, every type of influence—to cover Esterhazy, in order to convict Dreyfus...17

Zola did not stop there. He condemned the General Staff for shamelessly succumbing to bribery, accusing them of committing a great crime against the French state. Zola held them just as accountable for treason as Esterhazy, labeling their deeds as worse than Esterhazy’s for intentionally manipulating and invoking fear in the hearts of French citizens—the same citizens the General Staff was suppose to protect and defend.18 The entire tone of Zola’s letter was one of disgust and anger. Zola was not afraid to hold the guilty accountable for their actions, and his brave display stemmed from a deep-seated desire to uphold the notions of “Truth” and “Justice.” Unfortunately, his attempts ultimately proved self-defeating, and

Zola faced numerous negative repercussions for his actions, including fines and jail time.

15. Emile Zola, “A Plea for the Jews,” The Dreyfus Affair: J’Accuse and Other Writings, ed. and trans. Alain Pagès (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1996), 43.

16. Ibid, 43.

17. Ibid, 44.

18. Ibid, 51.

Rather than maintaining peace, (which they had originally intended by dismissing the new evidence supporting Dreyfus), the infuriated military had provoked disorder. Unrest erupted in multiple cities with anti-Dreyfusards leading the way. Within twenty-four hours of

Zola’s letter, a crowd of over 8,000 Frenchmen had gathered at the Tivoli Vaux-Hall in Paris screaming “Down with Zola” and “Death to the Jews.”19 Heavily armed police officers became necessary to disperse the crowd, but even then, chaos inside and outside of the Hall remained. Zola was charged with libel, and on February 23, 1898, he was found guilty. Zola received the greatest possible penalty for his crimes, one year in prison with a fine of 3,000 francs.20

Despite Zola’s severe punishment, his efforts resulted in an even more significant outcome. Due to the abundance of new evidence and increasing Dreyfus support, on June 3,

1899, after Dreyfus had already served nearly five years of his sentence, chief presiding judge Charles Mazeau and the Cour de Cassation, the French court of appeals, rescinded

Dreyfus’s 1894 guilty verdict and granted him a second court martial by the Military Court of Rennes. Dreyfus’s family was elated and optimistic, fully convinced that Alfred Dreyfus would finally receive justice. Their hope was further strengthened when, on the same day that a new trial was granted, the French newspaper Le Matin published an interview with

Esterhazy in which he admitted to writing the bordereau and specifically named corrupt military officials who had concealed his treason. Earlier in the year, President Félix Faure had died from a cerebral hemorrhage, and Commandant Henry had committed suicide, sparking doubt about Dreyfus’s guilt in the minds of several leading governing officials; both

19. Ruth Harris, Dreyfus: Politics, Emotion, and the Scandal of the Century (New York: Metropolitan Books, 2010), 119.

20. Ibid., 128.

Generals Boisdeffre and Gonse were no longer in military leadership. Public opinion was finally shifting in Dreyfus’s favor. But just when there seemed to be light at the end of the tunnel, the Dreyfusards were blindsided by a second guilty verdict at Rennes, sparking international outrage.

In an attempt to maintain military solidarity and despite having absolutely no case against him, the Army reconvicted Dreyfus based on “attenuating circumstances” and sentenced him to ten years detention.21 However, the court had not accounted for the objection of an obviously absurd verdict, and protestors demonstrated their indignation all around the world with protests in Milan, Naples, Trieste, London, New York, Madrid, and more. Forced to respond to the international fury but not wanting to further smear the military, government officials agreed to offer Dreyfus a pardon and amnesty for persons involved in the Affair. However, a pardon was only possible if Dreyfus was willing to remove his appeal, (which might implicate himself as guilty). In spite of maintaining his innocence throughout the entire ordeal and valuing honor above all else, Dreyfus lacked the health and energy necessary to further advocate for the values he had held so dear. He was physically and emotionally depleted, and after over five years of agony, he withdrew his appeal. Dreyfus was finally free. His case was reopened in 1903, but only on July 12, 1906, over a decade after his original trial and conviction, was Dreyfus finally declared innocent and exonerated of his crimes. Unfortunately, Alfred was never able to personally thank his advocate Émile Zola who had tragically died in his home on September 29, 1902, from accidental carbon monoxide poisoning. For Dreyfus, a military career no longer possessed the same honorable appeal as it previously boasted, and one year after his reinstatement, he retired from the Army. Dreyfus eventually went on to serve honorably as a reservist in World

21. Read, 306.

War I, and on July 11, 1935, almost five years after his loyal brother Mathieu had already died, officer Alfred Dreyfus died peacefully in his sleep surrounded by his loved ones.

Jews in France

Although Dreyfus’s Jewish background was not the sole reason for his accusation, conviction, degradation, and eventual reconviction, it undeniably played a prominent role in why military and government officials were so quick to offer him as a scapegoat for the bordereau. The history of Jews living in fin de siècle France is fundamental to understanding the history of Jews throughout all of Europe. France was a critical center in the development of modern Jewish identity. Therefore, understanding the vast and often times conflicting history of Jews in France is also essential to recognizing how such obvious injustice could happen to someone like Captain Alfred Dreyfus. While many Jews had successfully assimilated into French society following their emancipation during the French Revolution, anti-Semitism remained deeply embedded in French society.

By the end of the nineteenth century, three primary versions of anti-Semitism existed: religious, economic, and racial. Religious anti-Semitism stemmed from deep-seated animosity by the Catholic Church towards Jews, condemned from the Middle Ages on for

Christ’s death. In France the Church and the army had both been institutions of long standing with close and personal ties to old nobility. They had long been conservative institutions, hostile to the Republic and extremely wary of republicans. Therefore, it was no surprise when members of the clergy and religious Catholics sided with the anti-Dreyfusards during the Affair. Catholicism had previously been integral to French identity; Jews’ resistance to

Catholicism and the observation of their own religion inside private synagogues not only

16 rejected Christianity, it was also viewed as a sign of Jews’ refusal to accept French ideals and fully assimilate into French society. The Catholic Church was also losing much of its influence by the end of the nineteenth century. Many republican leaders deemed it irrelevant and outdated in light of modernity and new liberal thinking. The Church was losing its battle with the anticlerical Republic, which had taken away control of schooling. Prominent

Catholics often blamed their waning influence on Jews. In turn, the Church publically blamed the Jews for major national scandals such as the collapse of the Union Générale (a

Catholic bank) in 1882, and the bankruptcy of the Panama Company in 1892. Catholics attributed these financial scandals to Jews actively attempting to sabotage France, further proving the Jews’ lack of loyalty.

In addition to the oldest forms of anti-Semitism, newer elements arose by the early modern era. Unable to farm, concerned Frenchmen labeled Jews as financial manipulators, blaming them for economic crises at home and abroad. In late nineteenth-century France, anti-Semites condemned Jews as money mongers and claimed that Jews were hoarding the wealth of France. According to anti-Semites, Jews intentionally controlled French banking, allowing them to invest in lavish lifestyles without concern for the poorest members of

French society. Anti-Semitic newspapers and posters depicted Jews dressed in extravagant clothing surrounded by large money bags and decadent foods. Famous anti-Dreyfusard journalist Édouard Drumont even went as far as to accuse Jews of exploiting, organizing, and producing whatever “the creative Aryan has invented” in order to retain profits for himself.22

This ideology built on the Jewish involvement in banking and finance to increase public mistrust of the Jews.

22. Peter Davies, The Extreme Right in France, 1789 to the Present (New York: Taylor and Francis Group, 2002), 74.

The newest form of anti-Semitism growing at the end of the nineteenth century was seemingly scientific, emerging with the Darwinian theory of natural selection and its related school of Social Darwinism. Radical anti-Semites framed the Jews in a new light. Rather than being Frenchmen who practiced the religion of Judaism, Jews were identified as racially distinct from the true citizens of the nation of France. Many Frenchmen used Social

Darwinism and nationalism to “prove” that the Jewish “race” was genetically inferior to that of real Frenchmen, further stigmatizing Jews as imposters hereditarily unfit to qualify as

Frenchmen. Racially charged vocabulary such as “the Aryan” versus “the Semite” gained popularity in growing anti-Semitic literature. Pseudo-scientists insisted they could draw direct correlations between lunatics and Jews.23 Regardless of the reasons, by the late nineteenth century anti-Semitism was far reaching because it appealed to preexisting prejudices and built on new popular thought. The vast majority of anti-Semites agreed that the Jews were outsiders who weakened France, did not belong in France and actively sought to destroy its rich culture. Similar ideologies eventually resulted in the Holocaust.

Historians writing about French anti-Semitism since the late twentieth century, including Michael Marrus, Phyllis Cohen Albert, Jay R. Berkovitz, Paula Hyman, and Esther

Benbassa, all grapple with the very meaning of the term “Jew”, a complicated and complex matter. These scholars have focused on answering a few fundamental questions. What was the relationship between Jews and non-Jews living in France? How did Jews perceive themselves? How were they perceived by others? And finally, to what extent did Jews maintain a separate identity? However, while they agree in questions, historians have struggled to arrive at clear answers. In some earlier instances, historians such as Phyllis

Albert and Michael Graetz oversimplified terms like “Jew,” “Jewish community,” “Jewish

23. Davies, 75.

18 identity,” and even “assimilation.” Ignoring the plurality of these terms diluted the vastly varied people and groups these terms were meant to represent. Frustrated with that approach, more recently historians have adopted newer approaches. For example, Esther Benbassa successfully identified and detailed the Jewish community in France in its full complexity as it has changed over time, her work representing a promising path to more accurately exploring Jewish identity in all its complexities.

Only the exceptional elements of French history give Jewish history a different framework than the rest of Europe. Under the French Revolutionary banners of liberté,

égalité, and fraternité, France was the first European country to emancipate Jews under the

1791 Law Relating to the Jews. Almost fifty years before any other European state would receive similar rights, French Jews gained the rights and obligations of citizenship.24 After

1791, Jews in France Jews were able to move and establish their own communities and construct communal institutions. French republicanism supported Jewish integration into

French society. In response, French Jewish leaders espoused what historian Michael Marrus referenced as the “politics of assimilation.”25 Thus, many Jews retained their Jewish identity while combining it with the French. They spoke French instead of Yiddish, adhered to national French customs, accommodated their religious practices to the needs of the state, and defined Jewish interests as synonymous with French values.26

However, the extent of assimilation varied dramatically with regional, cultural, and religious diversity. Esther Benbassa asserted in The Jews of France: A History from Antiquity

24. Norman Kleeblatt, ed., Dreyfus Affair: Art, Truth, and Justice (Berkley: University of California Press, 1987), 23.

25. Ibid., 27.

26. Ibid.

19 to the Present, that Jews in nineteenth-century France were not fully assimilated into society.

She posts a plural Jewish identity.27 Benbassa not only acknowledged Jewish pluralism in

France, she insisted that Jewish history can “only” be understood in these terms.28 Benbassa argues that failing to acknowledge Jews’ multiple has distorted the reality of Jewish history.

According to Benbassa “The frequent insistence on the assimilation of French Jews surely owes something to the belief on the part of ideologues and Zionist historiographers that life in diaspora leads ineluctably to the erasure of Jewish identity. The most recent research shows... that for the majority of French Jews assimilation was not a reality.”29 Joining French society hardly implied that French Jews had completely abdicated their own personal Jewish identity. Although it meant different things for different Jews living during different times in different parts of France, still the majority of Jews considered themselves fully French people who happened to practice Judaism. They had not abandoned their Jewish identity. Rather

Jewish identity, according to Benbassa, was “No less than French identity itself.”30 As France evolved and new Jews arrived over the nineteenth century, Jewish identity, as all identities, was constantly being reconstructed.

Regardless of French Jewish commitment to France in its diversity, Jews were often offered as scapegoats for major French disasters. Three notable disasters include the Long

Depression that resulted from the Vienna Stock Market crash in May 1873, the collapse of the French Catholic banking house the Union Générale bank in 1882, and the bankruptcy of the Panama Canal Company in 1892. Catastrophes such as these led a desperate and divided

27. Esther Benbassa, The Jews of France (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1999), xix.

28. Ibid., xviii.

29. Ibid., xv.

30. Ibid., xix.

French public to willingly and eagerly believe the worst about groups said to be exerting secretly financial and political control.31 Since Jews had historically adopted the roles of lenders and bankers to make up for religious limitations placed on Catholics and Protestants, these three financial disasters only exacerbated preexisting, popular anti-Semitism in fin de siècle France. After all, as historian Eugen Weber stated so eloquently, “Anti-Semitism in nineteenth-century France was as French as croissants.”32

By the end of the nineteenth century, approximately 80,000 Jews lived in France, in a total population of 39,000,000.33 In fact, by the 1880s the Jewish community in France was the smallest of all major European nations; it was less than half the size of England’s Jewish population and significantly smaller than Jews living in the Netherlands.34 However, despite the limited population, Jews lived concentrated in Paris, also the center of French thought, politics, business, and the national press. The cluster of Jews in Paris grew following the

French loss of Alsace-Lorraine after the Franco-Prussian War. By the late nineteenth century, and influx of Jews fleeing persecution in Eastern Europe also contributed to the growth after

1871.35 In 1831, there were only 8,000 Jews living in Paris; that number expanded to 40,000 by the 1890s, nearly half of the entire Jewish population.36 Despite the French Jewish Press’s

31. Kleeblatt, 52.

32. Eugen Weber, France: Fin de Siècle (Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1986), 130.

33. Ibid., 131.

34. Ibid.

35. Much of this influx came from Jews who had fled lost eastern provinces of the Russian Empire due to severe persecution. They typically did not speak French or adhere to national customs, which so many French Jews had already adapted. Therefore, they stood out from other Jews who had attempted to fully assimilate into French society.

36. Kleeblatt, 27.

21 attempt to reduce anxiety about these numbers, many anti-Semites manipulated Jewish population figures, framing Jews as growing ever more powerful and numerous than was really the case.

One of the most prolific French figures promoting anti-Semitism, Édouard Drumont, was a publicist who was both Catholic and republican. Drumont rooted his arguments in extreme rightwing rhetoric. He described Jews as racial outsiders responsible for the recent struggles of the Third Republic. Drumont asserted that the Jews sought to destroy France and exploit its resources. He detested Jews so much that in 1892 he created a newspaper titled La

Libre Parole (Free Speech) devoted to spouting his abhorrence and distrust of the Jews. In fact, Drumont, proud of his anti-Semitic stance, bragged that La Libre Parole was “the most anti-Semitic newspaper in all of France.”37 Drumont and many others argued that the political, military, financial, and religious disasters haunting the Third Republic directly resulted from Jewish plotting, especially the prominent Rothschild banking family.

Eventually, using literature and the press, individuals such as Drumont and other anti-

Semites persuaded a large portion of the French population that Jews were actively conniving to overrun and destroy France.

Such accusations eventually resulted in the emergence of a dramatic increase of anti-

Semitic writing and publications by the end of the nineteenth century. Between 1879 and

1885, an annual average of less than one anti-Semitic publication appeared in France. The average grew to fifteen in 1886 and twenty by 1889.38 An obvious example of the success of anti-Semitic literature, Drumont’s 1886 two volume book, La France juive (Jewish France),

37. Kleeblatt, 54.

38. Ibid.

22 alleged that Jews secretly wreaked havoc on France whenever possible and were plotting to obliterate it. Drumont promoted the notions of a battle for survival between the “Aryans” and the “Semites,” arguing that the Jews, a single race, were conspirators waiting for the perfect opportunity to overrun and destroy France.39 His book was so successful that even at more than 1200 pages long, it sold over 100,000 copies in its first six months. La France juive quickly became the most widely read book in all of France.40

Édouard Drumont’s dangerous ideologies and others like them were more easily disseminated than ever due to technological advancements. His anti-Semitic books and others like them, spread internationally. This new wave of anti-Semitic sentiment created a toxic atmosphere and set the tone for the Dreyfus Affair all over the world, including Spain. While some historians such as Frederick Brown, Nicholas Halasz, and Jean Denis Bredin strongly emphasize that because Dreyfus was Jewish he was found guilty, other historians such as

Marcel Thomas, Piers Paul Read, and Ruth Harris explain that Dreyfus’s Jewish background was not the sole reason for his conviction, but rather made his culpability more readily acceptable. As Read put it, “The distinction was fine but real.”41 However, historians agree that identifying Dreyfus as Jewish made it easier for much of the French population and military and political officials to sacrifice Dreyfus in an attempt to preserve France. The same sentiment was felt in Spain, and a history of deep rooted anti-Semitism set the tone for

Spanish divisions regarding the culpability of Dreyfus.

39. Kleeblatt, 52.

40. Ibid.

41. Read, 64.

Impact of French Newspapers

Mass visual media, specifically the press, played a singular role in the arrest, conviction, and eventual exoneration of Captain Alfred Dreyfus. In fact, according to Eugen

Weber, “Without the press there would have been no Dreyfus Affair.”42 While newspapers were by no means new during the nineteenth century, their phenomenal development and growth were. Newspapers became especially popular in France during the nineteenth century, owing both to technological advancements and rising literacy rates. Between 1820 and 1870, literacy rates nearly doubled, creating an even larger audience for newspapers and other publications. Lithographs and engravings had been extremely popular during the first half of the nineteenth century; however, there were several limitations to using these forms of art. Lithography was incompatible with letterpress printing and engravings were costly.43

Paper had previously been made from rags; and although rags allowed for better quality paper, this method of paper making was also extremely expensive.44 Using wood pulp paper was more cost efficient, but was rejected as less aesthetically appealing.

French industrial development of the 1880s and 1890s introduced new technologies which dramatically altered the quality, availability, and thus the influence of the print media.

In 1828, the French press was only capable of printing 1,000-2,000 sheets of paper per hour.

By 1865, a state-of-the-art rotary press could produce as many as 15,000-20,000 sheets of paper in a single hour.45 The steam press and the development of photomechanical printing

42. Kleeblatt,, xxviii.

43. Beatrice Farwell, ed. The Cult of Images: Bauldelaire and the 19th Century Media Expansion, a faculty-graduate student project realized with the cooperation of the Bibliotheque Nationale (Paris: UCSB Art Museum, April 6- May 8, 1977), 11.

44. Clyde Thogmartin, The National Daily Press of France (Birmingham: Summa Publications, 1998), 45. 45. Thogmartin, 62.

24 during the second half of the nineteenth century reduced the costs of printing while increasing the number of newspapers and images made available to the general public.46 The sale of commercially mass produced ink also allowed for cheaper, more quality newspapers.47 These changes finally allowed newspapers to be in financial reach for all literate Frenchmen. Consequently, the circulation of newspapers increased dramatically. For example, the paper Le Petit Journal went from producing 33,000 copies to 262, 369 copies in just three years.48 Despite this dramatic increase in numbers, it remains difficult to assess the exact influence of newspapers during the Third Republic. A single newspaper could circulate through several different hands and venues such as cafes, increasing its readership beyond just newspaper sales. Therefore, circulation figures only represent copies sold, not copies read.49

Newspapers became so popular and significant in France between 1881 and 1914, that this era is often referenced as the “Golden Age” of the daily newspaper.50 Another key part of this surge was in part to the 1881 Freedom of the Press Law which abolished over forty previous printing laws, decrees, and ordinances. It reduced censorship and allowed politicians, writers, journalists, and graphic artists to publish their opinions and ideas without government constraints. Anyone was allowed to publish so long as he submitted his name to government officials, could fund his project, and would present at least two copies of the

46. Anne McCauley, Nineteenth-Century French Caricatures and Comic Illustrations from University of Texas Collections: January 17, 1985 to February 20, 1985 (Austin: The Whitley Company, 1985), 5.

47. Thogmartin, 45.

48. Ibid., 63.

49. Richard Lee Smith, “The Rise of the Mass Press in 19th Century France,” Journalism and Mass Communication Quarterly 53, no. 1 (March 1976): 97.

50. Thogmartin, 63.

25 printed work to the proper political officials.51 Naturally the number of newspapers increased in France from just 3,800 titles in 1882 to over 6,000 in 1892.52

While the Freedom of the Press Law promoted liberty for the expression of ideas, that freedom came at a cost for many groups in France, especially the Jews. Artistic journal illustrations and mass media ultimately paved a path for opinion newspapers, which became one of the most powerful and effective means of distributing political propaganda in fin-de- siècle France. Journalists became the main distributors of information during the Third

Republic; a new type of “opinion” paper emerged in France. With financial resources limited for French newspapers, investors became essential to maintaining circulation. Therefore, news became a mechanism for competition instead of an instrument for disseminating

“objective” knowledge and facts. Journalists began to prioritize what they thought the public wanted to know measured by sales over what it should know.53 Instead of presenting news in a non-partisan manner, papers began to publish partisan writing in an attempt to boost sales and gain financial support. Eugen Weber described papers as “aimed at mass circulation to be gained by attracting a new kind of reader with reporting that was lively, racy, piquant, poignant, stirring, appealing, and generally sensational.”54 Thus, journalists became more concerned with slanting stories to gain readers and secure financial backing from supporters rather than ascertaining the truth.

51. Raymond Kuhn, The Media in France (London: Routledge, 1994), 47.

52. Thogmartin, 91.

53. Michèle Martin, Images at War: Illustrated Periodicals and Constructed Nations (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2006), 19.

54. Weber, 27.

Consequently, every political faction, political theorist, poet, and novelist had his or her own newspaper.55 For example, the newspaper La Croix (the cross) was founded in 1880 by Father Bailly and supported the rightwing Roman Catholic Assumptionists. It eventually developed into an anti-democratic, anti-Semitic, and naturally anti-Dreyfus daily newspaper.56 Other rightwing and eventually anti-Dreyfus newspapers included Le Pilori and

La Libre Parole. Le Matin was geared towards moderate republicans; and La Gazette was the monarchists’ mouthpiece. Le Pere Peinard appealed to the left-wing. Even feminists, who typically leaned in favor of Dreyfus, published their own newspapers, including La Fronde and La Citoyenne.57 Although all of these newspapers were aimed at extremely different audiences, virtually all covered the drama of the Affair and took sides regarding Dreyfus’s guilt/innocence. As historian William Fortescue stated, rightwing newspapers “broke the news of the arrest of Dreyfus, launched an anti-Semitic campaign against him, pressured the authorities to condemn and severely punish him, and thereafter continued to vilify Dreyfus, to denounce his supporters...and then defend his opponents...”58 On the other side, a small number of liberal papers eventually came around to supporting Dreyfus. Beyond reporting revealed elements of the Affair, the press directly drove its trajectory. The situation was similar in Spain. Newspapers became the main distributors of information surrounding the

Dreyfus Affair in Spain. Newspapers reflected and shaped the views of Spanish readership,

55. Thogmartin, 57.

56. George R. Whyte, The Dreyfus Affair: A Chronological History (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), 9.

57. Thogmartin, 10.

58. William Fortescue, The Third Republic in France, 1870-1940 (New York: Routledge: Taylor and Francis Group, 2000), 63.

27 serving as invaluable avenues for dialogue between Spaniards and popular French figures related to the Dreyfus Affair.

List of Leading French Newspapers:

Newspapers in nineteenth-century France had gone from being objective disseminators of information, to opinion-driven businesses. Thus, biases became so obvious that each newspaper can easily be categorized by their stance as Pro or Anti-Dreyfus.

Dreyfusard (Pro-Dreyfus): Anti-Dreyfus:

L’Aurore La Libre Parole

Le Siècle Le Petit Journal

La Revue Blanche La Croix

La Fronde L’Eclair

Le Sifflet Le Petit Parisien

La Citoyenne Le Pompon

La Fronde L’Echo de Paris

Le Matin

L’Intransigeant

Psst...!

Le Fifre

Le Courrier français

L’Etrille

The Third Republic Versus Conservative French Institutions

The Dreyfus Affair occurred during the French Third Republic (1870-1940), a government plagued by a series of internal and external crises. France had just suffered a humiliating defeat to the Prussians in the Franco-Prussian War in 1871 and was forced to evaluate its national identity in the face of modernity. Following the war, France, which had previously counted among the most dominant Continental powers, lost its territory of Alsace-

Lorraine and was left considerably politically divided.59 Although these divisions can be traced back to the French Revolution of 1789, even in the 1870s Republicans feared that the young Third Republic would be overturned by resurgent monarchists. The by-elections of

July 1872 further polarized political divisions threatening the struggling French government.

The Republic created a split in the National Assembly, and government officials divided parliament into two houses: the Chamber of Deputies and the Senate.60 Together the two houses elected the President of the Third Republic, who shared the right to legislate with the various members of parliament. The Constitution of 1875 ultimately helped secure the

Republican regime in France, although its narrow acceptance testified to the continuing divisions within the government. Ruling officials were willing accept compromise in order to maintain a strong, unified France.61

Despite the readiness of politicians to negotiate and “accept” the Constitution of

1875, a series of military upheavals and financial disasters perpetuated Republicans’ concern that the monarchists would overturn the Third Republic. Boulangism, a philosophy promoted

59. Fortescue, 29.

60. Ibid., 30.

61. Ibid.

29 by reformist and populist Minister of War General Georges Boulanger, boasted a new type of nationalism aimed at increasing French government control and influence. Boulanger promoted new radical right ideologies, replacing the nationalism of the French Revolution, which had focused on empowering the people, with a nationalism centered on race and national power. Boulanger attempted to create discontent among the French military, promoting Revanchism, encouraging Frenchman to seek revenge on Germany for France’s devastating loss in the Franco-Prussian War. Boulanger eventually gained considerable support from the French population and began winning elections (in France one person could be elected in multiple districts at the same time). Republicans feared that Boulanger would take advantage of his newly acquired popularity to become dictator of France. Upon recognizing Boulanger’s increasing popularity, Republicans took swift action. They quickly issued a warrant for Boulanger’s arrest, charging him with conspiracy and treasonable activities. Boulanger was forced to flee France, and he ultimately committed suicide.62

However, although Boulangism never resulted in a coup, it left Republicans extremely wary of anyone who seemed to pose a threat to the Third Republic.63 Many historians also mark this upheaval, along with the Dreyfus Affair, as one of the two main events sparking the rise of a new radical right movement which swept across France and much of Europe at the end of the nineteenth century.

Furthermore, even after the Third Republic was officially established and recovered following France’s financial disasters and the Boulanger scandal, the press amplified every

62. Jean –Marie Mayeur and Madeleine Reberioux, The Third Republic from Its Origins to the Great War, 1871-1914, trans. J. R. Foster (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), 136. Boulanger killed himself on the grave of his mistress at Ixelles cemetery in Brussels and was eventually buried next to her at Ixelles cemetery.

63. Harris, 61.

French crisis. The Press Law of 1881 liberalized the press and provided French citizens with a public voice it had not previously possessed. According to Eugen Weber, “The 1880s and

1890s saw the press replace Parliament as the chief site and instrument of public debate, frightening politicians even more than it impressed the general public, but affecting the public by its capacity to communicate; magnify, and manipulate the notions, scenes, and bits of information that it brought very close to home.”64 All of these changes challenged those who had been in political power and forced the Republic to respond quickly against anyone who threatened it. Safeguarding became paramount because many of the crashes and panics directly resulted from political and financial cronyism; the leaders of the Republic in the

1890s used power to get rich and blamed the Jews. For many rightwing military and republican political leaders alike, defense of the Republic became synonymous with self- preservation. French leaders were forced to protect themselves and sacrifice people like

Dreyfus to defend their own self-interests (under the guise of protecting France). However, it proved to be a dangerous game that the French Army and rightwing republican leadership would ultimately lose.

Development of the Intellectual in France

Despite the promotion of intellectual thought during the Enlightenment in France, the term “intellectual” first emerged at the end of the nineteenth century specifically to reference the authors, lawyers, artists, and other professionals and educational elites who publically defended Captain Alfred Dreyfus against his conviction of treason. While French journalist and politician Georges Benjamin Clemenceau first used the term on January 23, 1898, in the newspaper L’Aurore to praise Dreyfus’s supporters, the term quickly emerged as a

64. Weber, 240.

31 derogatory expression to mock those who defended Captain Dreyfus.65 However, despite being scrutinized for their controversial public opinions, intellectuals embraced the term, recognizing that it gave them a certain level of political and communal relevance. According to Eugen Weber, “The Dreyfus Affair provided more than a persistent myth and a significant turning point in political polarization...It reaffirmed the crucial role of intellectuals or, at least, men of letters in politics...”66

Intellectuals embraced their new titles and used their public influence to advocate for more than just Dreyfus’s innocence. They fought for the values they defined as truth and justice, universal ideals embodied uniquely by the French Republic. The Dreyfus Affair was not merely a French disagreement; to the intellectuals universal values were at stake. As author Tom Conner explained, the term intellectual turned into:

something positive and self-affirming, a veritable badge of honor, the Dreyfusards decided that to be an ‘intellectual’ paid tribute to the idealism inherent in the French Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen of 1789, in particular the burgeoning notion of civil rights, the idea that all citizens had inalienable rights that the state must support equally across the board in order to hold moral authority over the social body in its entirety, as well as the ideas that intellectuals, being an elite in society, had a responsibility toward their fellow citizens to take a leadership role whenever government fell short.67

Rather than hide behind their books and in their offices, liberal intellectuals felt a duty to speak publically and published their opinions in newspapers. They denounced the corrupt military regime that had so swiftly and willingly sacrificed Dreyfus as a scapegoat in its attempt to protect itself under the guise of preserving the Third Republic. Intellectuals were committed to their cause and dedicated their time and resources on behalf of Dreyfus. They

65. Tom Conner, The Dreyfus Affair and the Rise of the French Public Intellectual (McFarland, 2014), 120.

66. Weber, 239.

67. Conner, 122.

32 felt a deep-seated duty to their work and even found their identity in it. Christopher Forth, in

The Dreyfus Affair and the Crisis of French Manhood, notes “This emphasis on the intellectual life as a kind of mission faithfully conveys the manner in which intellectuals perceived themselves and wished to be perceived...”68

However, despite intellectuals’ attempts at redefining themselves in public opinion and embracing their new identity as honorable, those holding opposing views worked just as hard to demoralize the intellectuals. Anti-Dreyfusards mocked Dreyfusards for living sedentary lifestyles and working in cerebral professions, judgments typically associated with

Jewish men.69 Dreyfusards were depicted as inferior citizens who worked desk jobs and donned fat, weak, effeminate bodies, making them incapable of working the land or successfully serving in the military. Anti-Dreyfusards even publically body shamed intellectuals such as Zola, taunting them in posters and newspapers. On the other hand, anti-

Dreyfusards emphasized values of self-control, discipline, and sacrifice.70 According to the

Army, these traits naturally revealed themselves in a physically strong and virile man; one coupled with an active lifestyle and chiseled, muscular physique, often depicted in advertisements and magazines.71 This aligned with their desire to maintain a strong and unified military front, which had previously been the heart of France. Maintaining this image was especially important following France’s failure in the Franco-Prussian War.

68. Christopher Forth, The Dreyfus Affair and the Crisis of French Manhood (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2004), 10.

69. Ibid., 8.

70. Ibid., 43.

71. Ibid., 222.

Antagonism had such a profound effect on intellectuals that they intentionally redefined their own image. While they recognized that their cerebral and academic vocations naturally led them to live sedentary lifestyles, they emphasized their mission as being

“honorable” and defined themselves as “men of culture.”72 Additionally, intellectuals distanced themselves from Jews, women, crowds, blacks, and any other social group associated with weakness, cowardice, or a lack of honor.73 Some Dreyfusards, such as Émile

Zola, even went so far as to lose weight and alter their physical appearance to silence critics.

Consequently, while Dreyfusards were not primarily concerned with defining masculinity, they recognized the incredible social dilemma masculinity represented during a period of dramatic change in fin de siècle France. As a result, intellectuals addressed this anxiety in an attempt to maintain relevance and silence their critics.

The most significant intellectual to emerge during the Dreyfus Affair was French author Émile Zola. While he was by no means the first intellectual to come to Dreyfus’s aid, he was by far the most notable because of what accomplished with limited resources. Jean-

Denis Bredin points out, “Zola undoubtedly had all the qualities needed to polarize the realm of letters. He was capable of carrying along a large segment of lesser known writers.”74 And carry he did. His letter “J’Accuse” in the Parisian newspaper L’Aurore published to accuse the President of the Third Republic attracted hundreds of thousands of readers, increasing newspaper sales to over 300,000 copies, selling more than 200,000 copies in a few hours.75

Additionally, the first “petition for a revision” of Esterhazy’s innocent verdict started the day

72. Forth, 10.

73. Ibid., 22 and 171.

74. Bredin, 279.

75. Read, 218.

34 immediately following Zola’s publication. Zola used his public influence and to assemble teachers, students, men of letters, and men of science to sign a petition demanding Dreyfus’s release. Zola’s influence defied borders, inspiring people to take action all over the world, including in Spain. Dreyfus and his family recognized Zola’s valuable influence. Upon learning of his death they sobbed at not being able to thank Zola in person for dedicating the last few years of his life to defending Dreyfus and, consequently, defending truth and justice which was the true heart of France.

Despite the hard work of intellectuals such as journalist Bernard Lazare and Émile

Zola, many Frenchmen labeled intellectuals as possessing dangerous rhetoric that could further challenge the stability of France. Therefore, anti-Dreyfusards did everything in their power to undermine the authority of the intellectuals and dissuade public opinion in their favor. Anti-intellectuals even went as far as to create their own organization in December

1898, referred to as the Ligue de la Patrie Française.76 This Ligue, composed of authors and professors, claimed to advocate the same values of “justice and truth” as the intellectuals espoused, as well as “defend ‘the fundamental pacts of human society,’ which specifically implied the acceptance of judgments delivered by competent authorities.”77 Composed of hundreds of university professors and other academics, the Ligue found immediate success.78

They challenged corruption in Parliament, praised the role of academics, all while still denouncing Dreyfus and the intellectuals. However, while the Ligue may have gained some

76. Bredin, 349.

77. Ibid.

78. Ibid.

35 short term apparent success, its vague and often times apparently conflicting ideologies left the Ligue with no real legitimacy.

The vigor of both the Pro-Dreyfus intellectuals and the Ligue’s anti-intellectuals demonstrates how powerful these voices had become. This new status combined with expanded mass media amplified the Affair. People in France and around the world gobbled it up! The Boulanger and Dreyfus affairs signified the rise of new ideologies in France; most notable was the new radical right movement. While leading historians of the extreme right movement agree that the term “right” is both “inadequate” and almost “indefinable,” they can agree that the late nineteenth century movement can be distinguished by three key features: nationalism/racism, anti-Marxism, and hostility to democracy.79 Unlike the nationalism of the French Revolution which attempted to empower ‘the people’, the new radical Right, championed by intellectuals such as Charles Maurras and Maurice Barrès, sought to reawaken a sense of national pride and empower the military. Under the inspiration of men such as former poet turned political activist Paul Déroulède, individuals like General

Boulanger fought for national unity, placing patriotism at the forefront of their campaign.

Such a vision of the nation rendered the extreme right particularly suspicious of the Jewish community and other seeming outsiders. Davies describes the new right in France as merging nationalism and conservatism as the “defender of ancient institutions.”80 However, several of those institutions had been replaced by the Third Republic, when it substituted the Catholic

Church with the French nation as the center of political discourse.81 The movement transformed as it moved into the twentieth century, and the radical right would forever serve

79. Davies, 8 and 12.

80. Ibid., 73.

81. Ibid., 78.

36 as a longstanding reminder of social and political debate crystallized by the Dreyfus Affair, results which become obvious during the twentieth century.

Both the immediate and long-term influences of the Affair were far reaching, and the eyes of millions of people from around the world were glued to France. Yet few were watching as closely as France’s neighbor just across the Pyrenees, Spain. Marked by a history of economic setbacks and political corruption, Spanish citizens were enthralled with the Dreyfus Affair, especially Zola and his pursuit of truth and justice. The development and relative success of the French intellectual emboldened Spanish citizens seeking their own social and political change. Consequently, ‘intellectuals’ also emerged in Spain, using Zola’s ideals as a platform to promote new social and political ideologies in an established two- party political system, as well as publically condemn the failures of a corrupt Spanish government. Thus, the consequences of the Dreyfus Affair would prove longstanding and dramatic.

CHAPTER 2

THE DREYFUS AFFAIR IN SPAIN

Spain’s separation from France by the Pyrenees Mountains has left many scholars and historians to assume that the Dreyfus Affair was of little interest in Spain, much less that the

Affair had a direct impact on its social and political culture. However, despite the limited research and publications on the relevance of the Dreyfus Affair in Spain, the Affair heavily influenced Spain just as much as any of its British, European, or American counterparts.

Most Spaniards closely followed the Affair in newspapers and journals; those with social and economic influence interacted directly with Émile Zola through letters and meetings. Zola’s ancestors preserved these documents, allowing their readers insight to public Spanish thought about the Affair. Upon reviewing her great grandfather’s collection of letters concerning the

Dreyfus Affair, Brigitte Émile-Zola recalled special interest and appreciation for letters from

Spain. Brigitte reminisced “with pleasure I have read the letters from Spain; the ones unknown, the others, of personalities.”1

However, these primary sources demonstrated that the influence of the Affair in

Spain exceeded a mere interest in the dealings surrounding the Affair or even the guilt or innocence of Captain Dreyfus. These documents revealed that middle and upper class

Spaniards became active participants in the deeper ideological debates that stemmed from the

Affair. Encarnación Medina Arjona, Spanish Professor of French philology who published seventy of Zola’s letters received from Spain, explained Spanish interest with the Affair:

“...in Spain, many intervened and did so publicly on the subject, but these interventions are to

1. Encarnación Medina Arjona, Zola y el caso Dreyfus: cartas desde Espana (1898-1899) (Cadiz: Servicio de Publicaciones de la Universidad, 1999), 5.

be valued as the tip of the iceberg of the general feeling, as the echoes of the expression of thousands of consciences.”2 For the majority of the nineteenth century, the voice of the budding middle class had been stifled, limited by the power of the Catholic Church and crooked oligarchic Spanish government. The Dreyfus Affair provided a platform on which this new faction could coalesce, denouncing Spain’s corrupt Old Regime and putting forth modern liberal ideologies such as universal suffrage, racial equality, and secular education, which intellectuals hoped would successfully transition Spain as it entered the twentieth century.

Just as in France, Spaniards were divided into Dreyfusards and anti-Dreyfusards, estranged by their visions for the future, not of France, but of Spain. Dreyfusards quickly became fixated with the notions of “truth” and “justice”, concepts lost in Spain by the end of the nineteenth century due to political corruption. Spanish elections lacked legitimacy. Most

Spaniards recognized that those in political power regularly rigged elections, changed voting locations at the last minute, tampered with voting materials, ballot-stuffed boxes, and so forth.3 Although Spain was a monarchy and France a republic, French intellectuals such as

Zola inspired Spanish intellectuals to challenge the corruption in Spain and advocate new ideologies in hopes of achieving social and political change. The most prominent ideology espoused at the turn of the century was liberalism, defined by historian David Ortiz, Jr. as:

...a reactive protest against arbitrary, authoritarian order in the religious, political, economic, social, and ethical spheres of human existence. For Liberals, the ultimate goal for society is civil, fiscal, personal, social, economic, and domestic liberty for the majority of its members...Liberalism assumes that all humans are equal before the law

2. Arjona, 7. Originally written in Spanish: “...en España, muchos intervinieron y lo hicieron públicamente a propósito del caso, pero estas intervenciones han de ser valoradas como la punta del iceberg del sentir general, como los ecos de la expresión de miles de conciencias.”

3. David Ortiz, Jr., Paper Liberals: Press and Politics in Restoration Spain (Westport: Greenwood Press, 2000), 12.

and that the law is in place to provide every individual with the opportunity to prosper. In short, liberalism self-consciously embodies the antithesis of Old Regime Europe, a society built on a foundation of hierarchy, privilege, and ascribed social status.4

Intellectuals generally mobilized around these values, picking and choosing the ideals that most aligned with their cause. Unfortunately for intellectuals, those in political authority recognized the challenge liberal philosophies posed to established authority. Conservative opposition as well as Spanish intellectuals’ inability to unite ideologically ultimately dissolved their attempts at achieving social and political reform. The consequences for their actions were severe and enduring, the most immediate penalties suffered under the dictatorship of Primo de Rivera following the defeat of Left- wing political parties. Later attempts at political and social reform were met with a bloody-civil war under the rise of the

Right-wing Nationalists led by General Franco.

Jews in Spain

Despite a rich history of Jews residing in the Iberian Peninsula, by the end of the nineteenth century the Spanish public’s sentiment towards Jews closely resembled that of the

French sentiment. While historians do not know the exact date that Jews arrived in the

Peninsula, many historians have traced Jewish migration to the biblical city of Tarshish as far back as 800 BCE.5 Jews were able to live free lives, unrestrained by any social or political confines. It was not until the fourth century A.D. that Jews became isolated from Christians under the council of Elvira. The first forced Christian conversions took place under Bishop

4. Ortiz, Jr., Paper Liberals, 2.

5. Lee Anne Durham Seminario, The History of the Blacks, the Jews, and the Moors in Spain (Madrid, 1975), 35.

Severus of Majorca in 418.6 From that time forward, Jewish history in Hispania was marked by calamity and suffering, distinguished by a reoccurring pattern of persecutions, isolation, expulsions, and forced conversions as Christians and Muslims fought for control of the

Iberian Peninsula. Under Muslim rule, Jews living in Spain were allowed relative national and religious autonomy, and Arabic Spain became a safe haven for Jews. 7 Jewish communities sprouted in almost every major hub of Muslim Spain. They even served in positions of political power and social prestige.

However, Jewish prosperity and autonomy under Muslim rule was challenged during the crusader’s reconquest of the Holy Land in 1099. Jewish communities were destroyed and many Jews were slaughtered if they did not submit to compulsory conversions.8 Jewish populations practically vanished in the some parts of Spain. Ongoing Jewish plights were captured in the Hebrew poetry of the time. Celebrated Jewish poet Moses ibn Esra lamented:

I am weary of roaming the world, measuring its expanse; and I am not yet done... I walk with the beasts of the forest and I hover like a bird of prey over the peaks of mountains. My feet run about like lightning to the far ends of the earth, and I move from sea to sea. Journey follows journey, but I find no resting-place, no calm repose.9

Unfortunately, Moses and others like him never found the relief for which they so longed, and their lives were distinguished by a constant series of persecution and relocation.

6. Seminario, 36.

7. Yitzhak Baer, A History of the Jews in Christian Spain, Vol. I, trans. Louis Schoffman (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1961), 24.

8. Ibid., 47.

9. Diwan, no.153, lines 24-26, quoted in Yitzhak Baer, A History of the Jews in Christian Spain, Vol. I, trans. Louis Schoffman (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1961), 62.

Due to increasing intolerance and persecution, many Jews fled northern Spain and relocated in the south where Jews possessed more freedoms and safety. By the end of the eleventh century new Jewish communities had emerged. Many Christians recognized the value of these communities, and Jews were tolerated. They found jobs as professionals, merchants, bankers, doctors, scientists, poets, craftsmen, and even joined the military; Jews eventually emerged as one of the leading contributors to Spanish urban economy. Many

Jews even acquired high political offices and other positions of responsibility. However, their apparently successful integration in southern Spain was short-lived. In 1390 the death of John

I, king of Castile, along with the death of the Archbishop of Seville in 1391 marked the beginning of the end of Jewish prosperity in Spain. Both King John I and the Archbishop had condemned anti-Semitic violence and kept brutality against Jews to a minimum. Following their demise, a series of pogroms led by Spanish cleric Ferrand Martinez spread across Spain.

Martinez and other anti-Semites were suspicious of the Jews, accusing them of blood libel

(the notion that Jews used the Christian blood in religious rituals, especially in the preparation of Passover bread) and plotting against Christians. Anti-Semites prompted other

Spaniards to participate in extreme violence against the Jews. The results were devastation and fear. Many Jews relocated to smaller towns in hopes of avoiding the brewing anti-

Semitism demonstrated in larger cities. Some historians argue that as many as 100,000 Jews were violently murdered, another 100,000 converted as conversos, and numerous Jewish synagogues and homes were looted and burned to the ground.10 This calamity also divided

Jews into three prominent groups: conversos (those who converted to Catholicism), those

10. Jane S. Gerber, The Jews of Spain: A History of the Sephardic Experience (New York: The Free Press, 1992), 113.

who maintained their Jewish heritage and openly continued practicing Judaism, and those who publically renounced their faith but still followed Judaism in secret.

By 1469, many Jews were optimistic that the union of Ferdinand of Aragon and

Isabella of Castile would lead to better lives for them and their loved ones. Jews hoped that this unification would finally bring them peace and protection.11 Unfortunately, Ferdinand and Isabella had other plans. They soon passed new legislation which limited job opportunities for Jews. Jews were forced to dress in certain garments and identify themselves with badges. Jews were also segregated and forced to live in “Jewish quarters” away from Christians. 12 The Catholic Church and clergy received control over much of the newly abandoned land and buildings. The church also started to gain immense power and influence over the social and political sectors of Spain. However, the ultimate blow to Jews came on March 31, 1492, when, after Jews had resided in the Spanish portion of the Iberian

Peninsula for over a millennium and a half, Ferdinand and Isabella signed the Edict of

Expulsion (also known as the Alhambra Decree), banishing all Jews from Spain. Although the Edict was not made public for almost a month after it was originally signed, it took full effect as early as July 1492, just a few months later. The Edict claimed that Judaism was a

“joke” [burla] and that Jewish teachings and interaction with Christians had a negative influence on Christianity. 13 It also stated that the Jews possessed “evil and harmful purpose[s]” against the holy Catholic faith.14 The Edict of Expulsion demanded that all Jews and Jewesses regardless of age should leave the realms and dominions of Spain and never

11. Haim Beinart, The Expulsion of the Jews from Spain, trans. Jeffrey M. Green (Oxford: The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2002), 4.

12. Ibid., 8.

13. Ibid., 35.

14. Taken from the Edict of Expulsion found in Beinart on page 51.

return. If for whatever reason Jews did not comply, they would be punished by death and all of their property would be confiscated by the State. Some Jews renounced their faith and became conversos, but even then they were subject to a trial to determine the legitimacy of their conversion before they were allowed to reenter Spain. Although historians disagree on the exact number, it is estimated that tens of thousands of Jews died while leaving into exile, many taken advantage of and murdered for their supposed wealth. An estimated 200,000

Jews in total were expelled from Spain. Although some Jews managed to survive in Spain under the guise of conversos, the Edict of Expulsion remained in effect until it was officially revoked on December 16, 1968, following the Second Vatican Council.

Because the Edict of Expulsion was still in effect by the end of the eighteenth century and early nineteenth century, discussions over Jewish emancipation and the Jewish question did not dominate Spanish conversations as they did in France. Spain was a distinctly Catholic state; Catholicism was the only legally permitted faith. As a social institution, the Church was superior in influence to even the nobility. The real power in Spain was the clergy. After the French Revolution, Spanish liberals influenced by Napoleon and the French Revolution sought to rescind the Edict, but their challenge was immediately dismissed by those in political and social authority. Liberals’ actions merely encouraged the clergy to further advocate for the elimination of French influence in Spain. The king issued additional policies to reinforce the Edict of Expulsion. This did not deter those seeking freedom of religion, and in 1854 Spanish liberals led by Rabbi Ludwig Philippson of Magdeburg again proposed permission for Jewish reentrance to Spain.15 After being positively received by some, the

15. Haim Avni, Spain, the Jews, and Franco, trans. Emanuel Shimoni (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1982), 8.

proposition was denied on February 20, 1855. Catholicism was yet again declared the official religion of Spain and the only permissible faith. 16

In 1868, a military insurgency known as the Glorious Revolution broke out in Spain, deposing the conservative and anti-Semitic Queen Isabella II from her throne. The insurgency forced her into exile and a liberal command emerged. The provisional government under the leadership of General Francisco Serrano declared religious freedom for Jews, stating that it was a “human right.”17 One year later the article concerning the freedom of religion was officially accepted by a majority vote and added to the Spanish constitution. This vote challenged the authority of the Catholic Church, and conservatives feared that the government would accept additional liberal reforms. Conservatives united with monarchists as a means of preserving their power and fought to get the new article overturned. As Haim Avni explains:

Opposition to religious freedom served as the banner uniting the conservatives in their struggle against liberal forces. The strength of the resistance...increased to the point where the Church questioned not merely the religious freedom that had been introduced...but even the principle of religious tolerance that had been accepted previously.18

But conservatives’ efforts were in vain. Although the Edict of Expulsion was not officially renounced, in 1876 the Spanish legislature, the Cortes, approved article 11 of the constitution, declaring that Catholicism was still the official state religion, but Jews were allowed to observe their own religious beliefs privately so long as they respected “Christian morality.”19

16. Avni, 9.

17. Ibid., 11.

18. Ibid., 12.

19. Ibid.

Catholic leaders viewed these provisions, along with a limited but increasingly Jewish presence in Madrid, as a challenge to their authority. Conservatives responded with an anti-

Semitic campaign which spread across Spain. Anti-Semitic propaganda attracted more and more followers during the second half of the nineteenth century. In particular, literature such as Edouard Drumont’s anti-Semitic La France Juive gained popularity in Spain. As Spanish historian Joaquim Coll i Amargós explains, La France Juive illustrated “widespread dissemination of a discourse hostile to “foreigners”, the fruit of the convergence of the old

Catholic anti-Judaism and the new social and economic anti-Semitism which claims to be modern.”20 By the end of the nineteenth century, over 150,000 copies of La France Juive had been printed, available in Spain’s leading libraries. Drumont’s book created increased

Spanish suspicion and mistrust of Jews. Similarly, other books such as sociologist Edmond

Desmolin’s 1897 work A quoi tient la supériorité des Anglo-saxons?—To what is the cause of the superiority of the Anglo-Saxons? fostered intellectual debates in Spain. Many intellectuals worried about the “the rise and decline of races and nations taking place throughout the continent, and especially in the Latin countries.”21

However the popularity of anti-Semitic literature and increasing anti-Semitic sentiment in Spain at the turn of the century reveal far more than just a hatred of Jews; they set the stage for how Spaniards viewed the Dreyfus Affair. The position of Jews in Spain represented a battle between conservatives and liberals fighting for the future of Spain.

20. Joaquim Coll i Amargós, “L’écho de l’affaire Dreyfus en Catalogne. Les intellectuels en face de la crise française,” in L'affaire Dreyfus et l'opinion publique : en France et à l'étranger, eds. Michel Denis, Michel Lagrée, and Jean-Yves Veillard (Rennes : Presses universitaires de Rennes, 1995), 173-182, accessed February 6, 2017, http://books.openedition.org/pur/16515. “La large diffusion d’un discours hostile aux « étrangers », fruit de la convergence du vieil antijudaïsme catholique et du nouvel antisémitisme social et économique qui se prétend moderne.”

21. Amargós, 173-182. “l’essor et le déclin des races et des nations a lieu dans tout le continent, et en particulier dans les pays latins.”

Spaniards did not necessarily care if Dreyfus was Jewish or even if he was guilty or innocent.

But the Affair served as a lens revealing the debates and contradictions plaguing nineteenth- century Spain. Dreyfus and his supporters threatened the preservation of the old Spanish institutions such as the military and the Catholic Church which had previously dominated

Spanish politics. Therefore, for Spanish conservatives, it was impossible to view Dreyfus apart from the vision that he was Judas the traitor, that Jews had killed Christ. To them,

Dreyfusards represented the demise of centuries of conservative power and threatened established religious and political institutions. For liberals, the Dreyfus Affair represented a new vision for Spain. The Affair offered the opportunity to oppose a corrupt hierarchy and advocate ideals such as truth and justice for Spain’s most despised and neglected residents.

Nothing reveals this clear division more than Spanish newspapers, which quickly divided into pro-Dreyfus and anti-Dreyfus sides.

Impact of Spanish Newspapers

By the end of the nineteenth century, newspapers had become just as important in

Spain as they were in France. Newspapers quickly became the main source of information about the Dreyfus Affair. Although as many as 70% of Spaniards could not read for most of the nineteenth century, literacy rates increased dramatically during Regency Spain (1886-

1902). Due to their easy accessibility, abundance, and relatively low cost, newspapers quickly emerged in Spain as an inexpensive form of popular literature and information on current events.22 Each Spanish newspaper had its own distinct readership and political agendas. Papers allowed Spaniards of varying religious and political affiliations the

22. David Ortiz, Jr., “Redefining Public Education: Contestation, the Press, and Education in Regency Spain, 1885-1902,” Journal of Social History 35, no. 1(2001): 75.

opportunity to debate their opinions regarding political, social, and cultural issues. As historian David Ortiz Jr. explains, “Journalists, across the political spectrum, publicized their position in the newspapers. In so doing, they set the agenda and shaped popular discourse...”23 The discussion surrounding the Dreyfus Affair was no exception. By the height of the Affair in the late 1890s, almost every popular Spanish newspaper had taken a side. Liberal and republican newspapers tended to support Dreyfus; conservative newspapers aligned with institutions such as the military and the Catholic Church were almost always anti-Dreyfus. Below is a partial list of popular Spanish dailies and journals and their estimated position of the Dreyfus Affair.

List of Leading Spanish Newspapers:

Dreyfusard (Pro-Dreyfus): Anti-Dreyfus:

El Correo (Democratic Republican/Far Left) El Correo Español (Carlist)

El Heraldo de Madrid (Republican/Left) El Diario Catalán

El Globo (Center-left) Las Provincias (Conservative/ Far Right)

El Imparcial (Liberal/Left) La Señal de la Victoria

El Liberal (Democratic Republican/Left) La Fe (Conservative Catholic/Far Right)

El Poble Català (Left) El Fénix (Far Right)

El Progreso (Republican/Radical Left) El Estandarte (Center Moderate/Right)

La Correspondencia de España (Left) El Siglo futuro (Conservative Catholic/Far Right)

El Nuevo Régimen La Unión Católica (Moderate Catholic/Right)

23. Ortiz , Jr., “Redefining Public Education: Contestation, the Press, and Education in Regency Spain, 1885-1902,” 78.

La Ranaixensa

La Publicidad

By the end of the nineteenth century, newspapers not only reflected and shaped the views of their readership; they served as avenues for dialogue between Spaniards and popular

French figures related to the Dreyfus Affair. However, these discussions revealed more than just an interest in world affairs; they highlighted liberals’ commitment to the greater concerns and values associated with the Affair, especially truth and justice. Articles, interviews, and letters regularly appeared in newspapers; stories related to the Dreyfus Affair or Émile Zola often appeared on the front page of both Dreyfus and anti-Dreyfus newspapers. Some periodicals dedicated printing entire columns to Zola separately from columns related to general information surrounding the Affair. Many of these columns were as large as other segments dedicated to seemingly more pertinent Spanish events including issues in Cuba, the

Philippines, Puerto Rico, and disputes with the United States. Together, both the pro-Dreyfus and anti-Dreyfus newspapers wove an intricate tale revealing the significance and longstanding impact that Zola and the Dreyfus Affair had on Spain.

Although not every anti-Dreyfus paper was also anti-Semitic and vice versa, many newspapers directly linked the two. This is clearly demonstrated on the front page of the 1

March 1898, issue of La Unión Católica: Diario Religioso, Politico, and Literario. The first column and a half of the newspaper read “Cristianos y judíos”. The self-proclaimed

“interesting” article presented an interview between the American journalist Mr. Gribayedoff and the popular anti-Semitic author Edouard Drumont. In the article, the author praised

Drumont, referencing Drumont as “A man endowed with double forces, physical and

intellectual .... [with] the tight mouth indicat[ing] an iron will and a superior intellectual force...”24 As the interview progressed, Drumont explained that the Jew possessed immense power all over the world and needed to be completely destroyed. Drumont argued:

I do not see another way to fight the present situation than a general revolution that will throw out our current owners and replace them with a personal power (I do not say that he is King, Emperor, or dictator), but a noble and patriotic being who [can] put an end to Jewish supremacy and finish with the stables of Augeas full of vices and corruption.25

Many Spaniards had accepted the notion of secret unified Jewish world domination.

Catholics and other conservatives promoted this ideology which also advanced their own agendas. Many readers interpreted these discussions as fact, and many Spaniards truly blamed Jews for the nineteenth century Spanish financial crises.

This anti-Semitic sentiment directly influenced conservatives’ responses to Zola and the Dreyfus Affair. Just two columns over from the interview with Drumont, in the section

“Cartas judaicas” (Jewish letters), the author Pedro Trujillo de Mirando mocked Zola’s attempt at spreading liberty to Dreyfus and the Jews. Mirando linked Zola to the destruction of the military, blaming Zola’s involvement in the Affair for Zola’s own eventual ruin.

Mirando explained this in an elaborate metaphor about his former slave Malaquit. Having been exposed to the concept of freedom on his journeys with Mirando, Malaquit hoped to one day implement liberty in his native village. After receiving his freedom, Malaquit returned home. Upon his arrival, he was appointed ruler over his people. He declared

24. "Cristianos y judíos," La Unión Católica: Diario Religioso, Politico, and Literario (Madrid), March 1, 1898, accessed August 28, 2016. http://hemerotecadigital.bne.es/issue.vm?id=0004903704&search=&lang=en.“un hombre dotado de fuerzas dobles, fisica é intelectual....[con] la boca cerrada indican una voluntad de hierro y una fuerza intelectual superior...”

25. Ibid. “...yo no veo otromedio de combatir la situación actual que una revolución general que arrojará nuestros dueños actuales y los reemplazará por un poder personal (no digo que sea Rey, Emperador ni dictador), sino un ser noble y patriótico que ponga fin á la supremacía judaica y concluya con las cuadras de Augias llenas de vicios y de corrupción.”

everyone and everything free, void of social classes or divisions. However, Malaquit’s attempt at providing liberty to a cannibalistic society backfired. He was eventually cooked in a large pot and eaten by the very people he had tried to empower.

To Mirando the moral of his story was “sencilla”—simple. According to Mirando, the

French people had responded the same way towards Zola and Dreyfus as the villagers had responded to Malaquit. Both France and the villagers were hungry and thought with their stomachs instead of their brains. The villagers’ natural tendency towards cannibalism was synonymous with France’s longstanding desire for the consumption of Jewish flesh. The result was Malaquit’s own demise, parallel to downfall of both Zola and Dreyfus. However,

France was more fortunate than the villagers were. Unlike the town which had only eaten one pereson, France gobbled up two perfectly seasoned bodies. Mirando explained “the French long ago felt like swallowing a Jew, and fortune gave them two bodies; that of Dreyfus and that of Zola, those who have devoured the ancient cry of ¡long live the army!” 26 Mirandos story divulged a deep-seated anti-Semitism in Spain. His fable also revealed where many

Spaniards thought Jews belonged in society—dead.

26. Pedro Trujillo de Mirando, "Cartas judaicas," La Unión Católica: Diario Religioso, Politico, and Literario (Madrid), March 1, 1898, accessed August 28, 2016, http://hemerotecadigital.bne.es/issue.vm?id=000 4903704&search=&lang=en. “los franceses hacía tiempo que tenían gana de tragarse un judío, y la fortuna les deparó dos cuerpos; el de Dreyfus y el de Zola, á quienes han devorado al grito antiguo de ¡viva el ejército!”

Figure 1: La Unión Católica. 1 March 1898:

However, not every traditionally conservative Spanish group produced a periodical that took an anti-Dreyfus position. For example, La Correspondencia Militar, a Madrid daily, committed itself to providing a military perspective in liberal politics and guaranteeing that military interests were publically articulated and defended.27 Its 23 February 1898 issue dedicated three sections of the publication to discussions related to Zola and the Affair. The three headings read “Rusia y Zola,” “Dreyfus,” and “Zola y Francia.” However, the sheer number of articles published in one edition indicated the significance of the scandal to

Spaniards; the content of those sections was most telling. The segments revealed three important details: where the Affair was most significant, why the Affair was significant, and how conservative Spaniards felt about Alfred Dreyfus and Zola.

27. David Ortiz, Jr., Paper Liberals: Press and Politics in Restoration Spain, 35.

The first segment, “Rusia y Zola,” did not directly mention Spanish feelings regarding

Zola or the Affair; however, the article did reveal the international impact of the scandal. The piece also clarified Spain’s acknowledgment of the scandal’s sweeping influence outside of

Spanish borders. In the article, the Spanish journalist declared that a group of young Russians in Saint Petersburg, Russia, had signed a manifesto soliciting the reprieve of Alfred Dreyfus.

The movement gained so much support from young liberals that the manifesto received more than 240 signatures in less than two hours.28 Additionally, the piece explained that “the movement in favor of Zola is generally sweeping among all the youth of the great empire.”29

This suggests the global interest and engagement with the Affair, as well as Spain’s recognition of Zola’s far-reaching and influential impact.

While the first article did not directly discuss the influence of the Affair in Spain, the second and third articles did. Yet the difference between “Dreyfus” and “Zola y Francia” explained the paper’s attitude towards the Affair and its leading characters. The article titled

“Dreyfus” was prominent, consuming an entire column of the second page of the paper.

Surprisingly, the presentation of the most recent information surrounding the Affair was written in a nonpartisan manner. The article simply offered facts of the Affair without interpretation or additional commentary. On the other hand, the section “Zola y Francia” adopted an entirely different style.

As was common among many Spanish newspapers, La Correspondencia Militar dedicated a third article exclusively to Zola. However, unlike the impartial tone found in

“Dreyfus,” the author, signed simply as Claudio, celebrated Zola and his international

28. D. Santos F. Arîas, ed., "Rusia y Zola," La Correspondencia Militar (Madrid), February 23, 1898, accessed August 28, 2016, http://hemerotecadigital.bne.es/issue.vm?id=0001808993&page=2&search=&lang =en.

29. Ibid.

influence. The article praised Zola’s sacrifice for reason and justice and acknowledged his humility despite being recognized as “a genius.” The Spanish paper declared Zola a man of the people all around the world, asserting that if France were to exile Zola, he could easily find a home in Italy, Spain, Germany, England, or even Russia. Spaniards considered Zola’s work as belonging not just to themselves, but also “belonging to universal civilization.”30

The praise for Zola did not stop there. The article referenced Zola as “a great literary thinker” and an author possessing “colossal talent.”31 Yes, Spaniards followed the details of the Dreyfus Affair and were interested in the outcome; but Zola captured Spanish admiration and inspired some liberal Spaniards to fight in their own land for what they knew to be right.

After all, while Zola had become an enemy of the French state, Zola and his ardent determination to achieve truth and justice “could do more harm to France than France to

Zola.”32

Figures 2-4: La Correspondencia Militar 28 February 1898:

30. Claudio, "Zola y Francia," La Correspondencia Militar (Madrid), February 23, 1898, accessed August 28, 2016, http://hemerotecadigital.bne.es/issue.vm?id=0001808993&page=2&search=&lang=en.

31. Ibid.

32. Ibid.

Both anti-Dreyfus and pro-Dreyfus newspapers circulated in major Spanish cities.

One of the leading Spanish Dreyfusard papers, El Globo, was staunchly pro-Dreyfus and especially admired Zola. In the 24 December 1897 publication, El Globo discussed the happenings surrounding the death and funeral of Alphonse Daudet. Although Zola and

Daudet had not been close (Daudet had been good friends with Drumont), Zola was to speak at Daudet’s funeral. The paper described Spaniards’ affection for Zola, characterizing him as

“...most honored, the most noble, the most worthy of imitation and applause.”33 The author

33. A. Sea, "Los Asuntos del Día: Voltaire y Rousseau.--Bajada á la tumba.--Arton y consortes.--En plena moralidad.--Daudet, Zola, y Drumont.--Ante la tumba.--El cielo triste.--París, Londres.--¡Arre, caballe!," El Globo (Madrid), December 24, 1897, accessed August 28, 2016,

went even further, setting up grandiose expectations regarding Zola’s speech. The journalist declared that Zola’s speech would certainly proclaim “the noblest concepts and that from his robust inspiration will arise ideas that will shake with emotion.”34 These high words of praise demonstrated that for some, Spanish sentiment towards Zola exceeded more than just his defense of Dreyfus. They admired him as an author, spokesman, and a man of extreme character. In the minds of liberal Spaniards, Zola was an intellectual who should not only be praised for his integrity, but “imitated” as well.

Figure 5: El Globo 24 December 1897:

http://hemerotecadigital.bne.es/issue.vm?id=0001201708&page=1&search=&lang=en.“... la.más honradas, de las más nobles, de las más dignas de imitació y de aplauso.”

34. Ibid. “los más nobles conceptos y que de su robusta inspiración surgirán ideas que estremecerán de emoción.”

While many Spanish newspapers printed stories and opinions about the Dreyfus

Affair, some of them were also directly in contact with leading figures related to the Affair, especially the renowned Zola. Newspapers allowed Zola’s supporters in Spain to directly interact with the French hero. Hundreds of Spanish citizens reached out to Zola through letters and well wishes, and their support did not go unnoticed. In the 18 October 1899, issue of El Imparcial, the newspaper published an article from Zola himself, directly linking the democrats of Gijon, Spain to the popular French figure. In the letter Zola expressed gratitude to the citizens of Gijon for their unwavering support “for the triumph of truth and justice” in

France.35 Zola praised France, claiming “France is great because it always fights for the rights of humanity.”36 This declaration of gratitude to the democrats of Gijon reveals more than just Zola’s interaction with Spanish supporters and vice-versa; it represents the deep commitment of Spanish liberals to the values of truth and justice. Their admiration for Zola and support for Dreyfus went beyond supporting a victim of injustice; it symbolized their desire for change in Spanish politics, inspiring them to engage in their own “fight” for political truth and justice at the turn of the century.

35. Martinez, "Zola á los demócratas gijoneses," El Imparcial (Madrid), October 18, 1899, accessed August 28, 2016, http://hemerotecadigital.bne.es/issue.vm?id=0000809537&page=1&search=&lang=en.“por el triunfo de la verdad y la justicia.”

36. Ibid. “Francia es grande porque siempre lucha por los derechos de la humanidad.”

Figure 6: El Imparcial 18 October 1899:

Spanish Government

Although by the end of the nineteenth century Spain was a monarchy and France a

Republic, the Dreyfus Affair in France had a significant impact on the political evolution of the Spanish government. The history of the Spanish government, however, can only be truly understood by a proper familiarity with the topography of the Iberian Peninsula. Separated from the rest of Europe by the daunting Pyrenees Mountains, Hispania remained a dry and desolate land for many centuries. The peninsula, cut off by the rough mountain range and multiple bodies of water, isolated Hispania from its European neighbors. This topography also served as an internal division fragmenting Hispania into varying races, languages, and civilizations.

Additionally, a slew of crises during the fourteenth century made a unified Spain seem like an impossible dream. The Black Death of the mid-1300s struck the Iberian

Peninsula just as it did the rest of Western Europe. Nearly half of the Spanish population died, decreasing the volume of trade in Barcelona by five-fold between 1350 and 1450.37

Additionally, increased Christian hostility towards the Jews during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries led to the murder of thousands of Jews all over Hispania. The political situation was no better. Internal divisions broke up the kingdoms of Hispania, and the legitimacy of ruling and succeeding monarchs was regularly questioned. Such instability forced the leading Spanish kingdoms to take dramatic action, action that would change the political and cultural nature of the Iberian Peninsula forever.

Hispania, now referred to as modern day Spain, was composed of three smaller, independent kingdoms: Castile, Portugal, and Aragon. Each of these Christian kingdoms in turn implemented their own governments and regulations. However, in 1469, despite three seemingly content and autonomous kingdoms and with no apparent economic need, Isabella of Castile married Ferdinand of Aragon, setting the foundation for a unified Spain. Just ten years later, they created a dynastic union, which many historians argue “marked the birth of the modern Spanish state.”38 According to Sir J.H. Elliott in his book Imperial Spain, “The marriage of Ferdinand and Isabella, so furtively arranged and incongruously celebrated, proved...to be the prelude to a vital process: the process by which medieval Castile assumed the leadership of the new Spain, and went on to acquire an empire.”39

Spain was on the verge of unification. Isabella and Ferdinand did everything in their power to strengthen and preserve their newly emerging empire. They immediately took

37. Simon Barton, A History of Spain (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), 84.

38. Ibid, 89.

39. J.H. Elliott, Imperial Spain, 1469-1716 (London: Penguin Group, 2002), 44.

control of religious institutions, empowering the Spanish Catholic Church with immense wealth and privileges.40 However, strengthening the Church put an end to any lenience for

Jews. Despite historically being tolerated and playing a prominent role in the cultural and economic advancement of both Castile and Aragon during the Middle Ages, the Crown’s attempt at Spanish solidarity led to the persecution and expulsion of both Muslims and Jews residing in Spain. British historian J.H. Elliot explains that on 30 March 1492, “less than three months after the surrender of the Moors and less than three weeks before the signing of the capitulations with Columbus, the Catholic Kings put their signatures to an edict ordering the expulsion of all professed Jews from their kingdoms within the space of four months.”41

The consequences of this expulsion were two-fold. First, the economy suffered as foreign immigrants who sought to fill new job vacancies exploited Spanish resources. Second, it set a precedent for a suspicious Spanish attitude towards Jews and anything or anyone else considered potential threats to Spanish solidarity.

Spanish monarchs’ suspicion extended to the French House of Bourbon, an antipathy reaffirmed during the War of Spanish Succession (1702-1715). In 1700, the last Spanish

Hapsburg King, Charles II, died without any heir. A debate ensued concerning the next

Spanish monarch. Both France and Austria believed they possessed genealogical legitimacy to the throne. On his death bed, Charles II declared Philip, Duke of Anjou, as his successor;

Philip, the grandson of King Louis XIV of France, became Philip V, King of Spain. Many

Spanish nobles along with surrounding European powers immediately recognized the potential for a dynastic union between France and Spain. However that possibility threatened the European balance of power. Much of the Holy Roman Empire, England, and the

40. Elliott, 99.

41. Ibid., 108.

Netherlands formed the Grand Alliance, declaring war on France in 1702. Philip V needed a political base within Spain, but many landed nobles endorsed the Anglo-Austrian candidate because “they saw French absolutism as a threat to the influence they had acquired in local and royal affairs.”42 After a series of political and military campaigns, the Bourbons appeared to be on the verge of complete destruction. But in 1711, Holy Roman Emperor Joseph I died and his brother, Charles, the Archduke of Austria of the House of Habsburg, succeeded the throne. Charles, now declared Charles VI of the Holy Roman Empire, had previously been endorsed as heir to the Spanish throne by Austria. A Spanish/Austrian union was considered far more dangerous to the balance of power than a Bourbon on the throne in Madrid.43 This turn of events prompted the Dutch and the English to accept Philip V’s claim to the Spanish throne as long as he agreed that he did not possess any legitimate claim to the French throne.

This agreement, along with a series of numerous other concessions, formalized in the

Treaties of Utrecht in 1713 and the Treaty of Rastatt in 1714.44 Along with Philip V denying any claim to French rule, these treaties created dramatic territorial changes, devolving the

Burgundian-Habsburg Empire which had formerly dominated Castile. Centuries of Habsburg imperialism in Spain were officially dissolved along with the Habsburg system of government.

After the War of Spanish Succession, the Spanish empire prospered. As J.H. Elliot explains, “The Spanish Empire had shrunk at last to a truly Spanish empire, consisting of the

42. David R. Ringrose, Spain, Europe, and the “Spanish Miracle,” 1700-1900 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 316.

43. Elliott, 375.

44. Ibid.

Crowns of Castile and Aragon, and of Castile’s American colonies.”45 By the 1720s, the

Spanish Bourbons had freed themselves from direct French influence, allowing Spain to finally experience its own internal political transformation. Philip V’s plans for reform were documented in 1716 in a series of decrees known as Nueva Planta. The Nueva Planta officially marked the transition of Spain from a compilation of semi-autonomous provinces into a centralized State.46 Philip V implemented a series of new Spanish policies. The reforms focused on establishing Spanish influence on the western Mediterranean, consolidating high level political administration, professionalizing the Army and Navy, and revitalizing mercantilist exploitation of the empire.47

These modifications resulted in a series of recurrent wars which forced Spanish successors to consider adopting their own reform agendas. But in 1788, Charles III died, and his son, Charles IV, failed to maintain the same focus on Spanish policy as his predecessors had done. Instead, Charles IV’s reactionary policies worked to limit French intellectual trends, exacerbating preexisting discord between the Crown and liberal Spanish bureaucrats.48 Charles IV (1788-1808) feared that Enlightenment inspired French ideals of liberté, egalité, and fraternité would cross Spanish borders and influence large groups of disgruntled Spaniards to attempt its own revolution. This was a legitimate fear considering the majority of Spaniards were poor, and as much as three-fourths of the population worked the land.49 The old Spanish aristocracy had lost much of its power and influence due to

45. Ibid.

46. Elliott, 377.

47. Ringrose, 317.

48. Ibid., 318.

49. Raymond Carr, Spain: A History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 56.

incompetence and indifference, yet the nobility and clergy owned as much as two-thirds of all productive land.50

Worried by these social issues, Charles IV took every necessary precaution to prevent a Spanish revolution. In turn, he and his chief minister, José Floridablanca, tightened their grasp on customs and the Spanish press. They imposed press censorship and even suspended the press in 1791. Floridablanca also promoted a campaign that actively sought and destroyed seemingly dangerous and divisive books. Nevertheless this attempt to alienate Spain from its

French neighbors failed. In 1808, Napoleon had invaded and conquered Spain and forced

Charles IV’s son Ferdinand VII to abdicate the Spanish throne. Napoleon then replaced

Ferdinand VII with his own older brother Joseph Bonaparte who had successfully been ruling

Naples. Joseph became Joseph I, ruler of Spain. While some Spaniards accepted Joseph I’s rule, most met his reign with resistance. Many citizens viewed French rule as disruptive, new ideas challenged the old order of Spanish life. The Catholic Church especially opposed

French leadership and viewed French rule as a direct challenge to papal authority. Napoleon had been excommunicated by Pope Pius VII himself. Opposition to Napoleon and Joseph I increased. In June of 1813 Spain and its allies eventually defeated Napoleon in the Battle of

Vitoria in June of 1813. Napoleon, Joseph I, and their troops were forced to evacuate Spain, and Ferdinand was reinstated to the Spanish throne.

Unfortunately, the Spanish monarchy of the “ancien régime” was never able to fully recover from this transition of power. The French invasion of 1808 led to long-term division among Spaniards.51 While most Spanish citizens had opposed the rule of Napoleon and

50. Carr, 42.

51. Ibid., 80.

Joseph I, some Spaniards accepted French influence, hoping it would precipitate intellectual, social, and political change in Spain. Others believed that Napoleon’s seizure of Spain was the only move that could regenerate Spain. These groups, referenced as afrancesados

(literally Frenchified ones), had pledged allegiance to Joseph I and publically declared disapproval of the Spanish government. Most Spaniards condemned the response of the afrancesados, and afrancesados received violent persecution following the restoration of

King Ferdinand. Many were executed and stripped of their belongings; others fled or were forced into exile. As Julián Marías explains in his book Understanding Spain, “The French invasion of 1808 had terrible results: it precipitated the latent, barely visible, discord in Spain and brought about something that was to be decisive for the entire balance of the century: discord among ‘the Spains.’”52

Monarchs and elites recognized the division between budding liberals and conservatives, and it made them extremely wary of French influence. However, the monarchy had become weak following Joseph’s brief rule; and the century following

Ferdinand VII’s death in 1833 was distinguished by “rapid demographic expansion, significant economic growth and far-reaching social change.”53 In 1833, at only three years old, Isabella II replaced her father Ferdinand as the ruling Spanish monarch under the regency of her mother, Maria Christina. Maria Christina considered accepting a constitutional monarchy. Liberalism became deeply embedded in both the political and economic spheres, and the configuration of absolute rule was predominately dismantled.54

52. Julián Marías, Understanding Spain, trans. Frances M. López-Morillas (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1990), 341.

53. Barton, 172.

54. Ibid.

Yet despite a seemingly more liberal government, no dramatic political reform ensued.

Rather, a new oligarchy composed of the liberal bourgeoisie and the traditional land-owning class composed of bankers, businessmen, industrialists, lawyers, and generals emerged by the mid nineteenth century. Their interests became so closely entangled that instead of focusing on social and political development, these Spaniards’ primary objective was to maintain their new found status; and denounced new reforms which might undermine their positions.55

Naturally, this did not bode well for the expanding middle class composed of shopkeepers, lawyers, artisans, journalists, and teachers. Although these working professionals previously possessed little social or economic power, by the mid to late nineteenth century they “became increasingly critical and more intolerant of the contradictions inherent in the liberal state, particularly the corrupt, oligarchic Spanish variant.”56

The traditional structure of Spanish society was in crisis; an ideological battle ensued among conservatives, moderates, progressives, and liberals. Political disputes escalated, and a series of Spanish wars erupted. Isabella II was challenged by her uncle Carlos and his supporters, the Carlists, who made claim to the Spanish throne. An uprising quickly ensued.

After seven years of war, the Carlists were finally defeated. The remainder of Isabella’s rule was distinguished by a series of military insurrections, coups, rebellions, and financial struggles. Isabella had become increasingly influenced by military leaders and those hoping to arrive at a constitutional monarchy. Very few changes were made without the intervention of the military or a political conspiracy. However, Isabella’s allegiance to political parties constantly vacillated, frustrating Spanish leaders hoping to control Isabella and implement a

55. Barton, 172.

56. Ortiz, Jr., “Redefining Public Education: Contestation, the Press, and Education in Regency Spain, 1885-1902,” 74.

constitutional monarchy. Isabella’s response shifted progressively towards a more conservative and oppressive government. In 1846, Isabella destroyed credibility and her supporters’ faith when she married her cousin and approved her sister’s marriage to Antoine,

Duke of Montpensier, son of King Louis Philippe of France. Many Spaniards had expected that Isabella would marry Carlos’s son as a compromise to conflicting political systems and finally achieve peace in Spain.57 Instead, the press criticized Isabella, declaring her marriage one of the “most embarrassing spectacles in the history of Spain.”58 Isabella responded by increasing press censorship, creating a law specifically forbidding negative or degrading publications referencing the queen or any member of her family.

By 1866, Spanish Progresistas and democrats had become fed up with Isabella’s increasingly ineffective and tyrannical rule. A coalition led by General Juan Prim, a Spanish general and statesman, attempted a series of pronunciamentos (military rebellions or coup d'états) in Spain at the end of the nineteenth century. The initial uprising failed due to indecision and internal divisions amongst rebellion leaders, and many liberals (including

Prim) were forced to flee into exile for safety. However, the failed attempt at revolution did not deter Prim and his comrades from trying again. In September, 1868, under the leadership of General Prim and General Serrano, liberals and progressives joined forces with the

Spanish army to defeat Isabella in the Revolution of September 1868, also referenced as

“The Glorious Revolution.” The queen was forced to flee to France for safety, and the monarchy was overthrown.

57. Henry F. Schulte, The Spanish Press: 1940-1966: Print, Power, and Politics (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1968), 178.

58. Ibid., 179.

While the insurrection was successful in dethroning Isabella, the provisional government, composed of liberal, moderate, and republican generals and newsmen, lacked a clearly unified vision for Spain. This diverse group struggled to agree on a new monarch whom they thought would implement a Spanish constitutional monarchy. The Cortes eventually elected the Italian Duke Amadeo I king of Spain. While Amadeo attempted to rule as a constitutional monarch, he lost much of his support following the assassination of his main supporter General Marqués de los Castillejos. Republicans and Carlists opposed

Amadeo, fueled by their personal desires to sit on the throne. On 11 February 1873, after an attack by the Radical party, Amadeo fled Spain, abdicating his throne after ruling for just three years. That same day, by majority vote, the Cortes declared Spain a republic, and the

First Spanish Republic was created.

Division, violence, and instability grew among the parties. During the one year of the

Republic’s existence, four different men served as the Spanish President: Estanislao Figueras,

Pi i Margall, Nicolás Salmerón, and Emilio Castelar. Spain was in disarray; the political parties who had previously joined forces to overthrow Isabella had turned against each other.

To make matters worse, General Manuel Pavía led a coup d'état and established a unified republic ruled by General Francisco Serrano. However, Serrano, too, failed to gain popular support. By December 1874, Spaniards, exhausted by the disorder and fighting, were willing to sacrifice their visions for Spanish expansion and political change in exchange for harmony and then end of chaos in Spain.59 Thus, on 29 December 1874, Spanish officer Arsenio

Martínez-Campos y Antón led a pronunciamiento which restored the Spanish monarchy, declaring Isabella’s son Alfonso XII king of Spain. A new constitution was written, reinstating the Bourbon dynasty in Spain.

59. Marías, 354.

However, the new monarchy did not return exactly to its previous system. The

Constitution of 1876 decreed several significant changes for the Spanish political system, including the practice of turnismo—a two-party Spanish political system advocated by the

Conservative Party and the Liberal Party. The parties would alternate political power; once one party had served its time, the other party would peacefully assume power. Spaniards like

Antonio Cánovas del Castillo and others like him promoted this two-party system, claiming it was the only way for peaceful transitions of power. Yet reality proved that the turno pacifico was more concerned with maintaining political power than achieving peace and unity. As historian David Ortiz, Jr. explains:

Turno refers to the political parties of the turno, the Conservative party led by Antonio Cánovas del Castillo and the Liberal party led by Mateo Praxedes Sagasta, that monopolized, by design, political power in Spain from 1875 to 1923. The Spanish were managed by both parties to insure their continued control of political power. When one party had exhausted its agenda or suffered a political embarrassment, elections were called and the turno pacifico or peaceful shift would take, bringing the other party ‘legitimately’ to power. Other parties were either co- opted into the two official parties or politically marginalized.60

However, the turno system could only succeed with a politically static Spanish population.

Spanish leaders failed to recognize the desire of disenfranchised political groups such as republicans, socialists, and anarchists for a political voice.61 By the time of the Dreyfus

Affair, Spain had been plagued by centuries of political upheaval with little social, cultural, or political progress. Disenfranchised groups sought avenues to voice social unrest and denounce the corruption of the Spanish turno system of government. The Dreyfus Affair

60. Ortiz, Jr., “Redefining Public Education: Contestation, the Press, and Education in Regency Spain, 1885-1902,” 88.

61. Ibid., 87.

offered them the necessary platform. Zola and the intellectuals inspired them to voice their unrest in public forums, creating a Spanish intellectual coalition of their own.

CHAPTER 3

ÉMILE ZOLA AND THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE SPANISH INTELLECTUAL

The Dreyfus Affair had captured the attention of both Spanish conservatives and liberals, standing as a symbol of larger, deep-seated dilemmas plaguing fin de siécle Spain.

As historian Dr. James F. Brennan explains: “the Dreyfus case was used as one weapon in the battle over individual national issues... [and] was clearly a secondary issue and fitted into the ongoing debate about other matters.”1 This boded as true for Spain as it did for France or any of its European or American counterparts. The Dreyfus Affair did not captivate most

Spaniards out of concern with the innocence or guilt of Captain Alfred Dreyfus; rather,

Spaniards viewed the Affair as a national battle for truth and justice which Spanish intellectuals sought to restore in Spain. Spanish intellectuals used the Affair as a platform to fight for their own social and political concerns, advocating for secular education, universal suffrage, racial equality, and the restoration of legal voting processes. This is poignantly clear in the newspaper articles discussing the Affair, as well as the letters exchanged between

Spaniards and Émile Zola. The perceived blatant perversion and disregard for truth and justice in France challenged their acutely attentive Spanish neighbors to consider the moral state of their own social and political systems and emboldened the fed up Spanish middle class to take a stand against political corruption and social exploitation. The result was a formation of its own intellectual movement, primarily composed of groups who had been politically disenfranchised under the turno system.

1. James F. Brennan, The Reflection of the Dreyfus Affair in the European Press, 1897-1898 (New York: Peter Lang, 1998), 483.

While Spanish intellectuals did not agree on which route to take in their pursuit of social and political reform, they were united by Zola’s vision and actions. As Spanish professor of French philology Encarnación Medina Arjona explains:

Zola shows us as an inevitable intellectual reference in these decisive years for the future of Spain. This broad echo of Zola's position ... was thus perceived by his Spanish contemporaries. The intellectual elite, the Spanish thought, the workers, the people in general had a vision, if not always exact of the facts judged, but always clear of the disinterested stance and commitment of Zola as defender of justice, equality and his consequent anti-racist stance.2

Although the Spanish effort was smaller and differed in several ways from the French model, the powerful influence of Zola had an undeniably profound impact on Spanish social and political reform. Unfortunately for Spanish intellectuals, their bold movement proved limited and short-lived. Spain did not experience the radical reform necessary to overthrow the corrupt ruling regime. The eventual consequence of that failure was the brutal subjugation of intellectual movements and the violent rise of Spanish dictators.

The Birth of the Spanish Intellectual

Due to centuries of rigid Catholic and political control over the press and publishing,

Spanish intellectual societies grew at a significantly slower pace than international rivals like

Britain and France. Only after the French Revolution did Spanish liberals openly argue for

Spain to embrace political and constitutional reform.3 Even then, the utilitarian elements of

2. Arjona, 8. “Zola se nos muestra como un referente intelectual inevitable en estos años decisivos para el futuro de España. Este amplio eco de la posición de Zola...Así fue percibido por sus contemporáneos españoles. La élite intelectual, el pensamiento español, los obreros, el pueblo en general tuvieron una visión, si no siempre exacta de los hechos juzgados, sí siempre clara de la postura desinteresada y del compromiso de Zola como defensor de la justicia, de la igualdad y su consiguiente postura antirracista.”

3. Barton, 160.

these reforms rather than the political or philosophical aspects had the greatest impact.4

While many reformers favored enlightened ideals such as the separation of church and state and intellectual progress, the French model became the center of a bitter controversy in

Spain. Catholic conservatives recognized the threat that educated and informed Spanish citizens represented. Consequently, Spanish traditionalists labeled France and the

Enlightenment itself a “national enemy”.5 Not surprisingly, the Spanish Enlightenment, as an intellectual movement, emerged “second-rate and derivative” to the French movement, leaving in place a resistant and negative Spanish attitude towards education and intellectual advancement.6

Despite the limits of the Spanish Enlightenment, some Spanish liberals found hope in

Napoleon’s invasion of Spain. Reformists admired the values they thought Napoleon embodied, liberté, égalité, fraternité. They considered the arrival of his brother Joseph I “an opportunity to accelerate the programme of ‘enlightened reform.’”7 However, the afrancesados’ dreams proved fleeting. In December 1813, the Treaty of Valençay awoke liberals to the realities of yet another failed attempt at enlightenment. That same year, Joseph

I fled Spain and Ferdinand VII was restored to the Spanish throne. Ferdinand considered

Napoleon’s constitution null and void and brutally retaliated against reformers. Ferdinand imprisoned and executed thousands of liberal leaders, confiscated their properties, and exiled

4. Barton, 160.

5. Carr, 69.

6. Ibid., 73.

7. Barton, 167.

as many as 12,000 afrancesado families.8 The second Spanish experiment with liberalism had once again been snuffed out, this time brutally subdued.

In 1823, Ferdinand reinstated absolutist rule in Spain, and embarked on a policy intended to restore traditional conservative values to the government and crack down on liberal opponents. The Spanish authorities at the University of Cervera famously declared,

“Far be it from us the dangerous novelty of thinking.”9 However, Ferdinand’s death in 1833 allowed for some increase in liberal influence and cultural activity began to thrive. Exiled afrancesados returned to Spain, creating literary societies and other avenues for intellectual discourse and political debate.10 Just as important was the reinstatement of the periodical press which would serve at the end of the nineteenth century as a connection between French intellectuals and Spanish liberals throughout the Dreyfus Affair. By the 1850s, other philosophies such as Krausism, espoused by German philosopher Karl Krause, appealed to budding Spanish intellectuals because of its emphasis on “harmony and moral self- improvement.”11 These academic, literary, journalistic, and political societies were not separate groups, but in many ways created a unified society.12 Novelists, scholars, and artists became integral components of that society.

Following the Spanish Civil Wars which dominated the 1860s and 1870s, the Liberal party gained an immense amount of power under Cánovas’s turno pacifico system. However, minimal reform followed as the political elite focused predominately on maintaining power

8. Barton, 167.

9. Ibid., 181.

10. Ibid.

11. Barton, 182.

12. Storm, 142.

rather than implementing social and political change. This only fueled preexisting Spanish social and political division. Historian Simon Barton explains:

The two ‘dynastic parties’ were little more than loose coalitions of notables, which lacked any coherent political programme or ideology, beyond maintaining the status quo, or any nation-wide party organization...The marginalization from the political process of non-monarchical groups—the Republicans, regional nationalists, and working-class movements—by the ruling élites was to exacerbate political and social tensions and stored up problems...”13

Proto-intellectuals criticized the elite for abandoning their values, acting hypocritically, and behaving immorally.14 They were fed up with a divided and failing government. However, it was the Disaster of 1898 which was the final act that completely destroyed intellectuals’ belief in the Spanish regime.

In 1898, the Spanish-American War devastated Spain with a humiliating defeat.

Spain lost its claim to Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philippine archipelago, cutting ties with all of its colonial territories. Almost overnight, Spain had gone from being an imperial world power to a second-rate nation. Spain was financially devastated, a situation exacerbated by a series of agrarian disasters from the 1880s. Additionally, even with some increase in literacy rates, by the turn of the century almost half of the Spanish adult population remained illiterate.15 Yet despite numerous Spanish failures and shortcomings, the Spanish government remained in place. Educated and middle class Spaniards were quick to blame the failing two- party political system for Spain’s struggling economy, educational institutions, as well as

Spain’s humiliating defeat in the Spanish-American War. By then, many nations had become

13. Barton, 195.

14. Storm, 144.

15. Joseph Harrison and Alan Hoyle, eds., Spain’s 1898 Crisis: Regenerationism, Modernism, Post- Colonialism (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000), 2.

significantly more agriculturally, economically, and politically advanced than Spain. Authors of the time called this issue “the problem of Spain”; still some modern historians such as

García Delgado and Juan Pan-Montojo reference nineteenth century Spain as atraso

(backwards).1617 Many middle class Spaniards came to realize that the only way Spain could maintain its power in the face of modernity was to purge the country of corrupt politics and the outdated turno system. This frustration resulted in Regenerationism, one of several

Spanish political and intellectual movements which provided solutions to Spanish social and political failures.

At the same time Spanish regenerationists began to emerge, France was convulsed by the Dreyfus Affair. With admiration for their French counterparts, Spanish regenerationists who had closely been following the Affair adopted the term “intellectual” almost immediately.18 Intellectuals “sought to reenact the Dreyfusard mobilization” in Spain, placing education and universal suffrage at the forefront of their platform.19 Spanish intellectuals used the press to advance their agendas and promote a distinctly unified group, connecting them to intellectuals from around the world. Historian David Ortiz, Jr explained:

... periodicals helped create an ‘imagined community’ of ideological adherents, a community that extended beyond Spain to elsewhere in Europe and the world...These imagined communities provided Spanish dissidents with the physical and emotional strength to overcome the hostile social and political environment of the Regency...Newspapers were critical in the creation of these imagined communities because readers knew that their

16. Herbert Ramsden, The 1898 Movement in Spain: Towards a reinterpretation with special reference to ‘en Torno Al Casticismo’and ‘idearium Espanol’ (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1974), 12.

17. Harrison and Hoyle, 2.

18. Charles Kurzman, Democracy Denied, 1905-1915: Intellectuals and the Fate of Democracy (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2008), 26.

19. Ibid., 12.

ideological brothers and sisters had access to the same material. Spanish workers could easily imagine the same struggles existing in France...”20

Spanish intellectuals embraced the writings of French Dreyfusard intellectuals, especially

Zola, and encouraged others to do the same. In fact, in1898, when Zola was charged and convicted of libel for this passionate defense of Dreyfus, “virtually all the literate men of

Barcelona signed a manifesto in support of Zola.”21 That same year, nearly every disenfranchised Spanish political group identified as Dreyfusards. By 1902, most Spaniards seeking social and political reform had been coalesced into three blocs: republican, radical, and socialist.22 Although Spanish Dreyfusards maintained different political ideologies,

Spaniards seeking reform were unified under the label “intellectual”. Spanish intellectuals had their eyes fixed on Zola, whose influence would alter the course of Spanish public discourse.

Spanish Eyes on Zola

While the majority of Spain followed the Dreyfus Affair, it was the intellectuals’ admiration for Zola that made the Affair especially relevant in Spain. Spanish historian

Joaquim Coll i Amargós elaborated:

... many Catalan and Spanish intellectuals (Pere Coromines, Gabriel Alomar, Emilia Pardo Bazán, Miguel de Unamuno, Vicente Blasco Ibanez, etc.) expressed deep admiration for Zola's action, against militarism and anti- Semitism. In this sense it must be said that the example of the intervention of the French intellectuals in the Dreyfus affair remained very present in the conscience of their counterparts on the other side of the Pyrenees. This was

20. Ortiz, Jr., “Redefining Public Education: Contestation, the Press, and Education in Regency Spain, 1885-1902,” 79.

21. Kurzman, 26.

22. Ibid., 32.

repeatedly observed until very close to the proclamation of the Second Spanish Republic (1931).23

Hundreds of Spaniards reached out to Zola through newspapers and personal letters, thanking him for his inspiring public fight for truth and justice. These documents highlighted that

Spaniards did more than just follow the Affair; they were dedicated to the causes Zola espoused. Spanish philologist Encarnación Medina Arjona, who published seventy letters between Spanish intellectuals and Zola, explained that these primary documents:

...reflect not only the interest, but the passion with which in our country the process is followed and that constitutes a set of valuable documents to appreciate the voice of the Spaniards of all social classes in defense of justice...And, indeed, in Spain, many intervened and did it publicly on the subject...24

Arjona continued, explaining that “the existence of this epistolary proves the wide range of

Spanish social sectors supporting and sustaining the nascent figure ... of the intellectual.”25 In fact, Zola gained such a large following, that Spaniards of the time often referenced Zola’s admirers and intellectuals as followers of “the cult of Zola.”26 He had gained such an immense following that his trial and imprisonment sparked outrage among Spanish intellectuals.

23. Amargós, 173-182. “...de nombreux intellectuels Catalans et Espagnols (Pere Coromines, Gabriel Alomar, Emilia Pardo Bazán, Miguel de Unamuno, Vicente Blasco Ibanez, etc.) éprouvèrent une profonde admiration pour l’action de Zola, et se manifestèrent peu à peu contre le militarisme et l’anti-sémitisme. Dans ce sens, il faut dire que l’exemple de l’intervention des intellectuels français dans l’affair Dreyfus demeura très présent dans la conscience de leurs homologues de l’autre côté des Pyrénées. On put le constater à maintes reprises jusqu’à des dates très proches de la proclamation de la IIème République espagnole (1931).”

24. Arjona, 7. “... refleja no ya el interés, sino la pasión con que en nuestro país se sigue el proceso y que constituye un conjunto de documentos valiosísimos para apreciar la voz de los españoles de todas las clases sociales en defensa de la justicia...Y, en efecto, en España, muchos intervinieron y lo hicieron públicamente a propósito del caso...”

25. Ibid., 8. “...la existencia de este epistolario prueba el amplio abanico de sectores sociales españoles respaldando y sosteniendola la naciente figura...del intelectual.”

26. Rafael Pérez de la Dehesa, El Grupo Germinal: Una Clave del 98 cuadernos taurus 99 (Madrid: Taurus Ediciones, S.A., 1970), 94.

During Zola’s imprisonment, Spanish contemporaries demonstrated unyielding public support for Zola. No more than three days went by without a Spanish letter of encouragement sent to Zola or a Spanish newspaper publishing support for Zola.27 While hundreds of letters exist between Zola and his Spanish intellectual contemporaries, one of the most telling, a letter of support Zola received in prison on February 15, 1898, was signed by eighteen writers, artists and politicians who identified as “lovers of truth and justice above all.” The letter stated:

Illustrious Sir, Those who subscribe writers, artists, politicians, lovers of truth and justice above all, send to you the most vivid expression of enthusiastic admiration because in the illustrious writer, Honor of the French letters, we see today are the embodiment of the noblest sentiments of humanity. Receive the enthusiastic congratulations of your admirers.28

The strong, complimentary language not only attests to the Spanish intellectuals’ respect for

Zola, it speaks to the specific values they hoped to achieve in their own movement for truth and justice. Yes, Spanish intellectuals were fed up with the corrupt Spanish government; but they also grieved over what they considered blemishes in Spanish character. Historian Simon

Barton explains, “Spain’s problems were not only attributed to the pernicious influence of a

27. Arjona, 11.

28. Ibid., 59- 60. “Ilustre señor, Los que suscriben literatos, artistas, politicos, amantes de la verdad y de la justicia ante Todo, envían a Vd la expression más viva de admiración entusiasta porque en el escritor ilustre, Honra de las letras francesas, ven hoy personificación de los más nobles sentimientos de la Humanidad. Reciba Vd la felicitacíon entusiasta de sus admiradores.” Signed by: (A. Sánchez Pérez, José Abad y Ochoa, M. de Tolosa Latour, Emeterio Mazorriaga, Casiano Macías, José de Navarrete, Rossini, Antonio Portuondo y Eizaguirre, Luis Sanz, J. de Alcázar, Fidel Melgares (Félix de Montemar), Alfonso Regadera, Eduardo de Letes, Clemente de Trápaga y Errazu, Aurelio Dantón Pérez, Andrés Rodríguez y Gil, F. Zambrana, y Víctor Said Armesto).

corrupt ruling regime, but to fundamental flaws in the Spanish character, to a loss of ‘spirit and ancient virtue.’”29

Another letter demonstrating the Spanish intellectual’s support and admiration of

Zola arrived from Madrid on February 17, 1898. Signed by 29 Spanish doctors, this letter was one of the first to demonstrate Spanish medical professionals’ unwavering respect and support for Zola. The letter explained that while some intellectuals differed on their opinions regarding the guilt or innocence of Dreyfus, most Spanish doctors unified in support of

Zola’s integrity. The letter reads:

Your intervention in the Dreyfus affair has managed to stir France deeply and arouse great expectations throughout the civilized world. The Spanish people, essentially passionate, could not but follow with increasing interest the evolution of the psychological problem which at this moment concerns your noble country. Here, as elsewhere, it may be argued differently about the guilt of Dreyfus; but in what we all agree, in which there are no different opinions, is in believing in the man who has dedicated his life to scratching with his pen all the miseries, all the vices, all the social hypocrisies; that the man who in the "Jean de la Debacle" proposes to his country a road to follow and a model to imitate; that the man who now rises in front of a whole nation, asking for the revision of a process that, in his opinion, is a French patriot to me, but that he deserves to be appreciated, honored and respected by the whole of humanity. The cause that, you defy, may or may not be that of reason, but it is surely that of honesty and the hidalguía30 and causes of this nature always have at their side the moral support of all good men. For this reason we believe to interpret the sentiment of the Spanish medical class by sending in its name the testimony of its most determined admiration and its deepest respect.31

29. Barton, 197.

30. An hidalguía referenced nobility or honorability.

31. Arjona, 67. “La intervención de V. en el asunto Dreyfus, ha conseguido conmover hondamente la Francia y despertar una gran expectací en todo el mundo civilizado. El pueblo español, esencialmente pasional, no podia menos de seguir con interés creciente la evolución del problema psicológico que en este momento preocupa a vuestro noble país. Aquí, como en todas partes, se podrá ajuiciar de diferente modo acerca de la culpabilidad de Dreyfus; pero en lo que todos estamos de acuerdo, en lo que no hay opinions distintas, es en creer que el hombre que ha dedicado la vida a escarbar con su pluma todas las miserias, todos los vicios, todas las hipocresías socials; que el hombre que en el “Jean de la Debacle” propone a su patria un camino que seguir y un modelo que imitar; que el hombre que ahora se levanta enfrente de toda una nación, pidiendo la revision de un proceso que, a su parecer, me patriota francés, sino que hace acreedor a que la humanidad entera le estime, le ensalce y le respete.”

The letter clearly testifies that although not all Spaniards agreed on Alfred Dreyfus’s guilt or innocence, they all viewed Zola as a man of strong character whose actions in the Affair were worthy of imitation.

While Zola received letters of support from large groups of professional and respectable intellectuals, he also received letters from Spanish individuals simply wishing to declare their love and respect for Zola. Many of these letters voiced their accolades with strong, passionate language and elaborate compliments. One such letter was written by José

Cortés on January 21, 1898. The letter praised Zola, claiming:

Mr. D. Emilio Zola My lord and respectable sir, I congratulate you on your noble attitude in defense of justice. Your way of acting in the Dreyfus question adds a seal more to those already conquered by your talent and your courage in the defense of your ideals. Your name will go to posterity not only as a proper writer and head of a literary school, but also as the most glorious for every citizen, as the Man of Honor. Please accept, therefore, the testimony of my most distinguished consideration and the humble congratulations of your respectful admirer...32

La causa que, V. defiance, podrá ser o no la de la razón, pero es seguramente la de la honradez y la hidalguía y causas de esta naturaleza tienen siempre a su lado el apoyo moral de todos los hombres de bien. Por esta razón creemos interpreter el sentimineto de la clase médica española enviándole en su nombre el testimonio de su más decidida admiración y de su más profundo respeto.” Signed by: [Signed] (Dr. Juan Azua, Dr. Pérez- Valdés, Dr. Juan de Bravo, Dr. Policarpio Conejero, Dr. Olegario Sánchez-Calvo, Dr. Rafael Forns, Dr. Vicente Quintana, Dr. F. Ruiz, Dr. M. González Tánago, Dr. Juan D. Coronado, Dr. José Botella, Dr. Moreno Zancudo, Dr. Federico Gómez, Dr. Antonio Bravo, Dr. Santiago López, Dr. Rafael Muñoz, Dr. Francisco Huertas, Dr. Eulogio Cervera, Dr. José Ortiz de la Torre, Dr. Avelino Benavente, Dr. Alfredo Rodríguez Viforcos, Dr. Quintana, Dr. Julio Ulecia Cardona, Dr. Joaquín Decref, Dr. Luis Guedea y Calvo, Dr. A. de la Peña, Dr. Juan Sánchez Ulibarri, Dr. Pedro Vallcorba, y Dr. Miguel Álvarez

32. Arjona, 26. “Sr. D. Emilio Zola, Muy señor mío y respectable señor: felicito a V. por su noble actitud en defense de la justicia. Su manera de obrar en la cuestión Dreyfus añade un timbre más a los ya conquistados por su talent y su valor en la defense de sus ideales. Su nombre pasará a la posteridad no solo como escritor correcto y jefe de una escuela literaria, sino también como el de mayor gloria para todo ciudadano, como el de Hombre honrado. Sírvase, pues, aceptar el testimonio de mi consideración más distinguida y el humilde parabién de su respetuoso admirador...”

Letters like this were not unique to Cortés; its language is indicative of the vocabulary used by the majority of intellectuals when expressing their sentiments towards Zola.

Although most of these letters were written in Spanish, some Spanish intellectuals attempted to write their accolades in French. On February 23, 1898, Zola received a letter from Tarragona, Spain, which stated:

Sir, You have all my sympathies [sic]. I have read your books Lourdes, Rome and Paris, and others: I bless you with all my heart. I am very much preoccupied with the infamies of your enemies: let them be confounded. Your very humble and obedient servant. [Signed] Vicente Edo Nos.33

Nicolás Murga, another Spanish admirer wishing to praise Zola, wrote a letter similar to

Vicente’s. In broken French, Murga declared: “Mr. Emile Zola, Sir, I am sending you an article on the Dreyfus affair, written in Spanish because it is difficult for me to have written it in French. I beg you to read it and even to have it published if you think it useful, after having it translated.”34 These letters, written by different men of varying Spanish statuses in multiple languages, all testify to the admiration and respect Spanish intellectuals possessed for Zola. These same intellectuals then used Zola as inspiration to declare public actions in

Spain, which would forever change the discussion on Spanish social and political reform.

33. Arjona, 72. “Monsieur, Vous avez toutes mes simpaties [sic]. J’ai lu vos livres Lourdes, Rome et Paris, et autres: je vous bénis avec tout mon Coeur. Je suis bien préoccupé des infamies de vos enemis [sic]: qu’ils soient confondus. Votre trés humble et très obeisant serviteur. [Signed] Vicente Edo Nos.”

34. Ibid., 21. “Mr. Émile Zola, Monsieur, Je vous remets ici, un article sur l’affaire Dreyfus, écrit en espagnol parce qu’il m’est difficile de l’avoir écrit en francais. Je vous prie de le lire et meme de le faire publier si vous le croyez utile, après le faire traduire. Je vous salue sincèrement.”

Spanish Intellectuals Take Action

While the majority of the Spanish population, lacking any real influence, had long acted as passive members of the political regime, the last decade of the nineteenth century witnessed the birth of a broad, politically active citizenry in Spain.35 Composed primarily of urban men and women, a new generation of Spaniards inspired by Zola and other intellectuals felt empowered to speak in favor of change and oppose the failing, corrupt

Spanish government. Not only were Spanish intellectuals emboldened to denounce Spanish social and political corruption, they embraced the term intellectual, wearing the label as a badge of conferred honor, courage, and integrity. Spanish intellectuals opposed social hypocrisy, declaring open and blatant criticisms of the Spanish government trying to maintain power by rigging elections and denying universal human rights. Spanish intellectuals denounced Catholic intervention in education; they also opposed the widespread dissemination of conversations hostile to Jews and "foreigners", the result of the convergence of ancient Catholic anti-Judaism and the new social and economic anti-Semitism.36 Spanish intellectuals understood that ultimate control and secularization of schools was of paramount importance to achieving a truly modern state. The liberal press created and shaped public support for educational reform, putting education on the nation’s agenda.37 Spanish newspapers such as El Imparcial linked public education to the intellectual and cultural well-

35. Ortiz, Jr., “Redefining Public Education: Contestation, the Press, and Education in Regency Spain, 1885-1902,” 73.

36. Amargós, 173-182.

37. Ortiz, Jr., “Redefining Public Education: Contestation, the Press, and Education in Regency Spain, 1885-1902,” 74.

being of every Spaniard and then proclaimed it “a matter of national interest to which the state was obliged to respond.”38

Socialists and anarchists sought support for their agendas. At the beginning of the twentieth century, these groups quickly gained legitimacy in part because they identified themselves as intellectuals. Socialist and anarchist movements appealed to some because they made room for groups unwelcomed elsewhere, especially disenfranchised Spanish citizens who had been barred from Spanish political parties under the turno system. By the

1890s, hundreds of new Socialist and Anarchist clubs and associations had emerged all over

Spain.39 The term intellectuals had become so respected that these clubs gained many members, aligning their associations with the intellectuals. For example, in a discussion between celebrated Spanish anarchist Pedro Vallina and Eduardo Barriobero, Vallina explained that it was “not difficult” to attract Barriobero to the anarchist group because the intellectual label was “fashionable” in the general public.40 Even feminists rallied behind the pro- Zola intellectual crowd, advocating for female suffrage and gender equality in education. Yet while Spanish intellectuals admired Zola’s values and intellect, they failed to construct a unified vision for the future of Spain. Thus, competing ideologies led to several conflicting and fragmented approaches to reform cloaked under the broader term of

“intellectual.”

Both at the time and in historical studies, “intellectuals” have been portrayed as a general unified movement inspired by Zola. In fact the individuals who composed the

38. Ibid., 78.

39. Ortiz, Jr., “Redefining Public Education: Contestation, the Press, and Education in Regency Spain, 1885-1902,” 85.

40. Pérez de la Dehesa, 91.

Spanish intellectual movement espoused different ideas about the best direction for Spain as it entered the twentieth century. Among the most globally renowned Spanish intellectuals,

Vicente Ibañez, Gabriel Alomar, Emilia Pardo Bazán, and Miguel de Unamuno, personified the image of a Spanish intellectual. In their writings, they used their influence to openly denounce the social and political injustices espoused by the Spanish government; they also criticized the Catholic Church’s purveying of rigid doctrine. These Spanish intellectuals truly believed that they could alter public opinion through writing, which in turn would hopefully persuade the public and result in political actions. However, while they all admired Zola’s campaign for truth and justice, each individual advocated different causes and even opposing plans of action. This lack of unity coupled with embedded Spanish social and political customs eventually prevented members of the intellectual movement from achieving their individual desired outcomes.

In spite of the Spanish intellectual movement’s inability to unify philosophically, several Spanish intellectuals managed to accomplish some instances of reform. Among the earliest intellectuals, Spanish journalist, politician and best-selling Spanish novelist Vicente

Blasco Ibañez (1867-1928) was nicknamed the “Spanish Zola” by his American contemporaries. More than simply a man of letters, Ibañez was a passionate Republican who actively sought social, economic, and political reform in Spain.41 From 1898 to 1905 he served as a deputy in the Spanish Parliament in Madrid. During that time, he famously and openly opposed the corrupt Spanish government. His criticisms resulted in prison time, public condemnation, and exile on multiple occasions. Ibañez became famous for advocating democratic ideals and attempting to advance secular education for Spaniards of all ages and

41. America 7, no. 18 (August 10, 1912): 428.

social backgrounds. Ibañez famously stated: “Since the people cannot ascend to the university, the university must descend to them.”42

Ibañez was also strongly anti-clerical, and he condemned the church, along with the military, for their exploitation of the poorest and most vulnerable in Spain. La Catedral (The

Cathedral), El intruso (The Intruder), La bodega (The Wine Cellar), and La horda (The

Mob), his four most famous novels, strongly protested and criticized the corrupt Spanish oligarchy. Several of Ibañez’s writings fell into the school of Naturalism, a literary genre

Zola made famous. Naturalism advocated a detailed portrayal of the real world with all of its faults to demonstrate how social conditions, heredity, and environment shaped human character. Naturalism fell within Ibañez’s love of Zola. During Ibañez’s brief exile to Paris

(1890-1891), Ibañez immersed himself in the novels of Zola, whom he named his favorite

French novelist.43 Ibañez admitted Zola’s influence on his own early writing style.

...I had to begin by imitating someone, as does everyone else, and I am glad that my model was Zola instead of some other anodyne...In our country, which is one of intellectual sloth, the worst that can ever happen to an artist is to be pigeonholed and labeled...I admire Zola, envy many of his pages, would like to be proprietor of the splendorous oases he opens...44

Although Ibañez changed his writing style and approach later in life, he retained his high opinion of Zola. Because of his controversial and outspoken condemnation of the Spanish oligarchy, Ibañez spent the majority of his life outside of Spanish borders. However, neither prison nor exile dissuaded Ibañez from maintaining his dedication to proclaiming the beauty of Spanish tradition and publically opposing the ascension of Cánovas and other corrupt

42. A. Grove Day and Edgar C. Knowlton, V. Blasco Ibañez (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1972), 25.

43. Ibid., 121.

44. Ibid., 131.

political figures.45 Ibañez devoted his life to the Spanish peasants, fishermen, and slum dwellers in an eternal pursuit of truth and equality. On January 28, 1928, Ibañez died in

Menton, France, in the historic Fontana Rosa, a garden Ibañez built and dedicated to his favorite writers.

Spanish poet, essayist, educator, and diplomat Gabriel Alomar (1873-1941) was also strongly influenced by Zola and an important member of the Spanish intellectual movement.

While he published less than Ibañez, writings like El Futurisme (1904) reveal Alomar’s firm adherence to a leftist political standpoint and his fight for freedom. Alomar staunchly advocated for a secular education system and libertarian government. In spite of his strong spiritual language in El Futurisme, describing the world as “light versus darkness”, Alomar harshly critiqued the Catholic Church for its hold on the Spanish and Catalonian education systems.46 He denounced clericalism and advocated for educational reform. Alomar argued:

Educational freedom must not mean the right to educate children and youth without restraint...educational freedom, must guarantee in every way possible that the pupils’ souls will open up to the light without obstacle...Let us, instead, establish the obligation to engender free and autonomous spirits, which will aid us and set us right in the immortal task of becoming free.47

Additionally, he condemned colonialism, writing against both Spanish and French involvement in places like Cuba and Algeria.48 Alomar blamed Spanish shortcomings on

Spain’s addiction to tradition and the past. Thus, he coined the term “futurism,” advocating for Spanish regeneration and an embracing of the future. Alomar described his version of futurism:

45. Grove Day and Knowlton, Jr., 135.

47. Ibid.

48. Merjin, 413.

49. Ibid., 403.

...futurism is not a random system or some passing school of thought...it is a select human cadre, which over the centuries continues to renew its own beliefs and principles, imbuing the world with them in an eternal apostolate. It is, in short, a way of coexisting with future generations—the prevision, premonition, and anticipatory belief in future formulas.49

For Alomar, the future was far more important than the past, and Spain needed to move beyond its obsession with “the fatherland” and the concepts of tradition and patrimony to successfully transition into the twentieth century. Alomar posited: “Tradition is a strong foundation, certainly; but it is propitious only on condition that upon it shall rest the foot of the bow that will launch itself... sheltering the countryside and the towns in its divine transfiguration, tending the seeds of the people to come, who will be eternally new, infinitely diverse.”50 While Alomar’s writings expressed his opposition to the failed Spanish oligarchy, his advocacy went beyond the pages of his work. Alomar served as the Spanish Ambassador to Italy, arguing for education and political reform until he died in Cairo, Egypt in 1941.

Like Alomar and Ibañez, most, but not all important figures of the Spanish intellectual movement were men; several notable intellectuals were women. For example, renowned Spanish female novelist, journalist, critic and scholar Emilia Pardo Bazán (1851-

1921) was essential to Spanish reform. Labeled a “progressive intellectual,” Pardo Bazán embraced French culture becoming a “lifelong francophile.”51 Pardo Bazán studied all over

Europe and read the works of all leading British, Spanish, German, and French scholars of the day. She too became immediately enamored with Zola’s fight for truth and justice as well as his use of Naturalism; thus, her writing also adopted Naturalism. While she openly

50. Merjin, 414.

51. Ibid., 420.

52. Maurice Hemingway, Emilia Pardo Bazán: The Making of a Novelist (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), 2.

denounced social and political corruption as other intellectuals did, she maintained a significantly more conservative political stance than her Spanish peers. She opposed democracy and sought political reform within the preexisting ruling Spanish government.

More than anything, Pardo Bazán advocated for the Spanish embrace of intellectual movements and a militant feminism, arguing for female equality in education and female suffrage.52 After being denied entrance three times to the exclusively male Real Academia de la Lengua, Pardo Bazán actively challenged institutional regulations banning the admittance of women. That experience also encouraged her to write regularly about the lack of social, educational, and political rights of women living in Spain. Pardo Bazán defied social barriers, serving in Spain as the first woman to receive a chair in literature at the Universidad Central in Madrid. Extremely proud of her literary reputation, she received a Castilian title from

Alfonso XIII. Although she could not change the chauvinistic mentality that dominated Spain at the turn of the century, she continued her fight for social equality up to her last breath on

May 12, 1921. Her final article, criticizing Spanish realist author and diplomat Juan Valera, was published the day immediately following her death.

The most famous and controversial Spanish intellectual, essayist, novelist, poet, playwright, professor, and philosopher Miguel de Unamuno, has been referenced as the

“Giant of the Generation” for his dominant impact as a member of the “Generation of 1898,” a group of Spanish writers, essayists and poets profoundly impacted by Spain’s contemporary moral, social and political crisis. Spanish philologist Encarnación Arjona even linked the Generation of 98’ to Zola’s intellectual movement. However, while most scholars agree which Spaniards fall into the category of intellectual, scholars Herbert Ramsden and

53. Hemingway, 164.

Alan Hoyle have disputed whether Unamuno self-identified as an “intellectual”. Hoyle concluded, “I can approve more than he [Ramsden] does of Unamuno’s active ‘involvement’ as an intellectual in the problem of the nation’s destiny.”53

Unamuno was well versed in Zola’s writings, referencing Zola as one of his top five favorite French authors of all time.54 Unlike other intellectuals like Armesto, Ibañez, and

Bazán, Unamuno rejected Zola’s use of Naturalism. Unamuno even undermined Naturalism in his famous writing La vida de don Quixote y Sancho, declaring Zola’s characters as over simplistic and dull. Yet in spite of Unamuno’s distaste for Zola’s writing style, he admired

Zola’s values and his fight for social and political justice. Unamuno regularly praised Zola for his contribution to the establishment of demotic speech. Unamuno declared: “While I am not a devotee of Zola, Zola with his syntheses and his things, has done more for culture and true progress than all Tobler, Meyer, Hübner, Paris, etc.”55

Like Zola, Unamuno honored and brought about change. He openly condemned the corruption of the repressive Spanish government. Concerned about the Spanish lower-class,

Unamuno initially embraced Socialism and spoke against Herbert Spencer’s materialism, the notion that matter is the only reality. He advocated for a liberal political system and regularly denounced the Catholic Church, frequently highlighting the differences between faith and reason. However, his greatest critique of the Spanish government appeared after General

Miguel Primo de Rivera’s 1924 military coup. Unamuno denounced Primo de Rivera’s rule, and as a result was forced into exile. Unamuno received international praise for his

54. Harrison and Hoyle, 24.

55. Demetrios Basdekis, "Unamuno and Zola: Notes on the Novel," MLN, Hispanid Issue, 88, no. 2 (March 1973): accessed February 5, 2017 (The Johns Hopkins University Press), 367.

56. Sergio Fernández Larraín, Cartas Inéditas de Miguel de Unamuno (Santiago, 1965), 125. “Zola, que no es santo de mi devoción, Zola con sus sintetizaciones y sus cosas, ha hecho más por la cultura y el verdadero progreso que todos los Tobler, Meyer, Hübner, Paris, etc...”

opposition to Primo de Rivera. After nearly six years in exile, after Primo de Rivera fell,

Unamuno returned to Spain where he served as rector at the University of Salamanca. He had not changed his stance, and when General Franco took power in 1936, Unamuno publically spoke out against Franco, his final stand against Spanish political corruption. Unamuno, sentenced to house arrest, died on December 31, 1936.

Spanish intellectuals achieved a few victories, including universal male suffrage in

1890 and an end to the prohibition against building Jewish temples in 1909. Yet the Zola inspired Spanish intellectual movement proved to be short-lived. The limited size of the movement paled in comparison to the size of the Spanish oligarchy empowered by the turno system, preventing dramatic and lasting change. Spanish intellectuals struggled against the same handicaps as the Spanish liberals of the past. Although they agreed on their moral platform and in their admiration for Zola, Spanish intellectuals lacked a unified vision for

Spain. Spanish intellectuals could not agree on how best to achieve their goals, nor rally the numbers necessary to inspire lasting, radical change. By the early twentieth century, Spanish intellectuals had lost their momentum, failing to inspire fellow intellectuals as they had done during the height of the Dreyfus Affair. Spanish historian Joaquim Coll i Amargós explained:

“... intellectuals bitterly regretted their inability to awaken...the public-political consciousness of the mass of their fellow citizens, and, consequently, to provoke a mobilization in the image of that which had been organized by their neighbors before the Dreyfus case.56 By the early twentieth century, the Spanish intellectual movement, though not completely gone, had

57. Amargós, 173-182. “... pendant toute cette période, les intellectuels laïcs regrettèrent amèrement leur incapacité d’éveiller — dans des cas comme le procès de Montjuic (1896) ou l’exécution de Francesc Ferrer i Guardia (1909)— la conscience publico-politique de la masse de leurs concitoyens, et, par conséquent, de provoquer une mobilisation à l’image de celle qui avait été organisée par leurs voisins devant le cas Dreyfus.”

dwindled dramatically. Intellectuals had lost their brief public relevance. A new generation of

Spaniards failed to adopt the ideas of their predecessors. The result was the end of the

Spanish empire and the rise of a series of dictators determined to suppress liberal thought lasting until 1975.

CONCLUSION

The Dreyfus Affair and the emergence of the intellectuals served as an avenue for

Spanish liberals to advance controversial political ideologies and openly condemn the failures of the corrupt Spanish government at the turn of the century. Inspired by the French intellectual Emile Zola, Spanish liberals unified and proudly took on the moniker

“intellectual”. They espoused values of truth and justice, advocated for Spanish equality under the law, and denounced racism. However, despite the valiant efforts of Spanish intellectuals and their dedication to fighting for Spanish social and political reform, their movement failed to generate momentum. Spanish intellectuals simply could not build a large enough following to alter the powerful but corrupt and unstable Spanish political system. In

1908, Spanish contemporaries explained the reason for this failure: “the problem with

Spain...was that ‘the number of intellectuals is so limited that it cannot form enough of a mass to call itself a people.”1 Other Spanish contemporaries, like Spanish journalist López

Lapuya, criticized specific intellectuals, arguing that they did not go far enough to change

Spanish political culture. Lapuya complained:

The few Spanish socialist intellectuals...do not influence the political life of the country at all. Let Picon write a novel, Blasco an article, Monte-negro a poem, and Valle-Inclán a Byzantine tale, all that is laudable...but it is not enough. Laws are needed, decrees are required, effective provisions are urgently needed, and power is available only in state governance. Socialists should aspire to be government.2

1. Charles Kurzman, Democracy Denied, 1905-1915: Intellectuals and the Fate of Democracy (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2008), 23.

2. Pérez de la Dehesa, 81. “Los pocos socialistas intelectuales españoles, desparramados con están, para nada influyen en la vida política del país. Que Picón escriba una novela, Blasco un artículo, Monte-negro un poema, y Valle-Inclán un cuento bizantino, todo eso es laudable...pero no es bastante. Se necesitan leyes, se requiren decretos, urgen disposiciones efectivas, precisa disponer de la fuerza que sólo se halla en la gobernación del estado. Aspiren los socialistas a ser gobierno.”

However, while the Zola inspired intellectual movement may not have made the profound change necessary to reform the corrupt Spanish government, it did call attention to the corrupt turno system. The Spanish right understood the danger the intellectuals posed. The intellectuals’ platform, linked to French radical political ideologies, reinforced the Spanish monarchy’s insecurities. In the twentieth century, new political figures arose who did everything in their power to stifle remaining Spanish liberal and intellectual thoughts. The results were bloody civil wars and a series of dictators who repressed free speech, jailed opponents, and put an end to any remaining left- wing political parties demanding social and political justice and popular sovereignty.

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