Sororidad antifascista: Federica Montseny en La voz, 18 de enero de 1938

Por Ana María Díaz Marcos, Universidad de Connecticut

El 1 de enero de 1938 aparece en la “Página de la Mujer” del periódico neoyorquino La voz una felicitación de Año Nuevo que apela a la sororidad antifascista deseando salud “A las mujeres de lucha unidas contra el fascismo”. En la misma página Margarita Robles de Mendoza publica un artículo titulado “La partida y la contra partida” celebrando el asociacionismo femenino a través de “Ligas de mujeres contra el fascismo y la guerra”. El concepto de sororidad resulta central para abordar el asociacionismo y activismo de las mujeres de la colonia hispana de Nueva York en los años treinta. La “Página de la Mujer” de La voz es un ejemplo excepcional de los poderosos vínculos entre feminismo y antifascismo que se ponen de evidencia en los artículos destinados a unas lectoras retratadas en las páginas del periódico como hermanas, amigas, activistas, feministas, antifascistas, madres y mujeres modernas.

La Voz, 31 diciembre 1937

Esta felicitación de Año Nuevo alude a la agencia femenina de las “mujeres de lucha” cuyos esfuerzos trascendían cualquier tipo de frontera nacional. Las lectoras de La voz eran hispanas afincadas en Nueva York y la “Página de la mujer” se dirigía a ellas como mujeres unidas por su lengua, cultura e ideología en una sororidad transnacional que defendía causas comunes: la lucha contra el fascismo y los derechos de la mujer, la crítica antibelicista, la defensa de los valores democráticos y la protección de la infancia. En esta “Página de la mujer” publican en poco más de un año cuatro españolas de reconocido prestigio en la arena política e intelectual: Ernestina González (22-12-1937), Federica Montseny (18-1-1938), Dolores Ibárruri (17-3-1938) y Margarita Nelken (21-9-1938).¹

El subtítulo del texto de Montseny subraya que “hace un llamamiento vibrante a las Mujeres de América” sostenido sobre tres pilares: la función maternal (refiriéndose a las madres españolas y americanas que desean proteger el futuro de sus hijos), la sororidad (apelando a sus “hermanas” en esta petición de ayuda de Solidaridad Internacional Antifascista) y la idea de que las mujeres tienen agencia y son luchadoras. Montseny se dirige a sus hermanas de América desde ese terreno común, con “voz de mujer y de madre, de combatientes en esta lucha”, pidiendo su apoyo para la causa republicana en un momento en que “los cuatro caballos del Apocalipsis… asolan las tierras de Iberia”. En su llamamiento se destaca que la solidaridad internacional es indispensable para combatir el fascismo, caracterizado en el texto como un peligroso enemigo universal que amenaza a esposos e hijos.  En ese contexto se volvía imprescindible la acción de la mujer, madre protectora y mujer de lucha, que tenía el deber de actuar para defender a las generaciones venideras de la amenaza fascista:

¡Ayudadnos! ¡Movilizad vuestras conciencias! ¡Agitad a favor de España y las víctimas del fascismo donde quiera que estéis! Es vuestro deber de antifascistas, de madres, de mujeres dignas, en todo momento. Al ayudarnos, empezáis a defenderos contra un enemigo que es vuestro enemigo; empezáis a proteger la vida de vuestros esposos, de vuestros hijos, mañana también amenazadas por los mismos que (…) siembran la desolación y la muerte en la mártir España. ¡Mujeres, madres de América! (…) Vuestra solidaridad moral y material; vuestra ayuda, el hálito de la fraternidad generosa es nuestro consuelo y nuestra esperanza.

La apasionada petición de Federica Montseny a comienzos de 1938 no contemplaba barreras políticas, geográficas o de clase, se dirigía a las mujeres españolas, hispanas y americanas, de todas las clases, profesiones y nacionalidades, unidas política y espiritualmente en un puente transatlántico construido sobre una sororidad cimentada en ideales de justicia, solidaridad, libertad, derecho, democracia y justicia, militando en un frente común contra el fascismo y la guerra:

Donde quiera que militéis, no importa la clase a la que pertenezcáis, si en vuestro pecho alienta un corazón noble (…) un alma justa, habéis de colocaros de nuestro lado; habéis de sentir el odio hacia los verdugos y la piedad, la fraternidad más encendida hacia las víctimas… ¡Maestras, intelectuales, empleadas, periodistas, obreras! Donde quiera que estéis, escuchadme.

---

Notas

1. Hoy examinamos el texto de Federica Montseny (1905-1994). De familia e ideología anarquista, Montseny ejerció el periodismo en Solidaridad Obrera, fue miembro de la CNT y llegó a ser la primera mujer ministra en España, ocupando la cartera de Sanidad y Asistencia Social en 1936.

---

Ana María Díaz-Marcos es catedrática de Literatura Española en el Departamento de Literaturas, Culturas y Lenguas de la Universidad de Connecticut. Sus campos de trabajo son la literatura, el teatro, el feminismo histórico y los estudios de género. Su último trabajo sobre Margarita Nelken, publicado en la revista Feminismos de la Universidad de Alicante, está disponible en el enlace:
https://rua.ua.es/dspace/bitstream/10045/111723/1/Feminismos_37_10.pdf

Feminismo y antifascismo en la “Página de la mujer” en La Voz

Por Ana María Díaz Marcos

El periódico neoyorquino La voz empieza a publicarse en julio de 1937, haciendo gala desde el primer número de un rotundo compromiso antifascista. El 11 de diciembre de 1937, con el artículo “Amigas de habla hispana” firmado por Lina Mares, se inicia la publicación de una “Página de la mujer” destinada a las mujeres hispanas interesadas -además de en los aspectos de hogar, crianza, moda y feminidad asociados históricamente con el sexo- en cuestiones políticas, feministas e intelectuales como la lucha de la democracia contra el fascismo, los derechos de la mujer, la educación, los conflictos bélicos y los derechos de la infancia.

La “Página de la mujer” editada por Mares se construye así en tribuna destinada a las “mujeres de mi raza y de mi lengua” que aúna la vocación política antifascista y feminista con otros elementos característicos de la prensa femenina más convencional: recetas, consejos de belleza, patrones y fotos de moda, publicidad, salud y estética. Esta convergencia del claro compromiso democrático antifascista y la voluntad feminista tiene una poderosa presencia en el periódico hasta mayo de 1938, cuando la firma de Lina Mares deja de aparecer en el encabezamiento de la “Página de la mujer” que pierde de inmediato esa orientación política. Durante esos seis primeros meses de publicación la página expone su ideario democrático y feminista a través de numerosos artículos que se dirigen a una mujer moderna interesada en un abanico amplio de propuestas: “lo mismo el consejo legal para la defensa de vuestros derechos de mujer, que la receta de cocina; el patrón de moda, que la manera de ataviaros o conservar vuestros encantos físicos. Lo mismo hallaréis el artículo relativo a la educación o el cuidado de vuestros hijos, que la noticia y el comentario oportunos sobre alguna conquista de nuestras hermanas en el campo de la ciencia, de la industria o en el aula universitaria”.

Con ese espíritu de sororidad Mares describe en el artículo “Amigas de habla hispana” el papel de la mujer en la sociedad, centrándose en varios ejes fundamentales: como madre en su sentido pleno y no como “mera máquina de producir hijos”, como ciudadana y como compañera del hombre, con quien comparte los mismos derechos y deberes. No es posible establecer por qué la “Página de la mujer” perdió tan pronto su orientación política y feminista pero lo cierto es que esos primeros meses el mensaje se vincula sobre todo a las colaboraciones y el trabajo editorial de Lina Mares (de quien no se tienen más datos en este momento) y de la periodista y sufragista mexicana Margarita Robles de Mendoza que vivía en Nueva York en aquellas fechas y que contribuye activamente en ese página entre enero y abril de 1938 con artículos que reflejan su vocación desde el título: «Hermanas de España, Aquí Estamos» (La Voz, 22-I-38), «La Posición de la Mujer ante el Fascismo» (La Voz, 20-I-38) y «La Mujer en la Alemania Nazi» (La Voz, 21-III-38).

Dentro del proyecto de Recuperación del Legado Escrito Hispano se prepara una galería con los artículos publicados por Margarita Robles de Mendoza en La Voz. El objetivo es que esta galería esté disponible y en acceso libre para el verano del 2021.

---

Ana María Díaz-Marcos es catedrática de Literatura Española en el Departamento de Literaturas, Culturas y Lenguas de la Universidad de Connecticut. Sus campos de trabajo son la literatura, el teatro, el feminismo histórico y los estudios de género. Su último trabajo sobre Margarita Nelken, publicado en la revista Feminismos de la Universidad de Alicante, está disponible en el enlace:
https://rua.ua.es/dspace/bitstream/10045/111723/1/Feminismos_37_10.pdf

Picture This: The Modesta We Never Knew

Tracing a relevant role model in US History

By Cecilia López

Amid the pandemic, I was invited to be a research contributor for Sarah Rafael García’s archival ethnofiction project on the life of Modesta Avila. During this time, I had moved back home after completing my first year as an undergrad student at the University of California, Berkeley. My initial reaction to Modesta Avila’s story was utter shock at how young she was when she battled for land rights. Just like Modesta, I am nineteen years old and was born in Santa Ana, California where she had familial ties and was convicted in court. As I reflect on my everyday struggles, I cannot fathom the fears and emotions that went through Modesta’s mind as she tried to sustain her livelihood. 

Photograph of Modesta featured alongside original images of the Combs House, and Cannery and Packing House. Below Avila’s photo, the inscription states: “In 1889, Modesta Avila objected to the Santa Fe railroad running through her mother’s land and hung a line of laundry across the tracks. Although she removed it before the train arrived, she was later charged and convicted of a felony, sentenced to three years in San Quentin and Died there at age 22 after serving two years of her sentence.” Photo Credit: Cecilia Lopez

Modesta Avila, a Mexican American a folk heroine, is known for her resistance against the Southern Pacific Railroad during the 1800s. Born and raised in San Juan Capistrano, California, Modesta lived in her family’s home that laid fifteen feet away from the railroad tracks. The many disruptions caused by the train impeded on her life and ability to engage in daily activities, such as caring for her hens. After voicing her concerns and still seeing no necessary measures being enacted or even considered by the railroad company, Modesta took matters into her own hands by placing a laundry line post across the railroad tracks. Along with this physical barrier, she attached a note: “This land belongs to me. And if the railroad wants to run here, they will have to pay me ten thousand dollars.” Shortly after performing this act of protest, Modesta was arrested for the obstruction of the railroad and would face three years of incarceration at San Quentin Prison.

Although I am frustrated by the injustice Modesta faced, I am very honored to now share her story with others. During the month of July 2020, I had the opportunity to visit and photograph Modesta’s house as a way to document her memory. Along with my parents and two younger sisters, I traveled from Santa Ana to San Juan Capistrano, California. My parents, who have lived in Santa Ana for over 40 years, were intrigued by Modesta’s poignant story, yet they questioned why no one ever spoke about her in the community. Upon arriving, my first inclination was to observe the space and walk around the area before shooting any photographs. The entrance exhibits a memorial wall that frames the trunks of the evergreen trees that wrap around Los Rios. This adorned stone wall lies near a neighborhood of native hummingbird sage, honeysuckles and prickly cactus with vibrant ruby red tunas. Centered in the middle of the memorial is a plaque with Modesta’s black and white mugshot from San Quentin Prison when she was arrested for the obstruction of the railroad. Following the memorial is a dirt path that leads toward Modesta’s home, now known as the Hummingbird Cafe or Combs House. Built in 1865, the Combs House was moved to Los Rios Street in 1878 when Forster City, south of San Clemente, failed and was later abandoned. The name pays homage to its original owner, Jack Combs, who served as an early town constable and lived on the property.

Located on 26711 Verdugo Street, Modesta Avila’s house quickly stands out as the only historical site right next to the train tracks and Metrolink station. Her house now serves as a tourist attraction that serves Greek and American food. Photo Credit: Cecilia Lopez

After researching Modesta for months, it was fascinating to visit her home, yet troubling to be there knowing how her story would ultimately end. While walking past her brown wooden house, I paused to reimagine how this space once looked. I felt that it was crucial to fully immerse myself in the environment to visualize how Modesta’s mid 19th century home might’ve looked, as well as the other living conditions that surrounded her. Despite not being able to enter the interior of her home, I was able to explore the house quite well and witness how the train tracks were literally right outside her front porch. The whistles of the train rang in my ears while the aged wooden planks of Modesta’s house creaked and echoed like the sounds of distant cries. It felt hauntingly surreal to take each step into what felt like another realm, where Modesta was standing right beside me.

The Los Rios Street District is the oldest and continually occupied residential street in California. Californian plants, such as cactus and succulents surround the area to provide a variant of diverse colors and wildlife. Photo Credit: Cecilia Lopez

I hope that my photographs allow the viewer to place themselves in the shoes of Modesta, as well as question the institutions or forces of power and privilege that push members of our society out to the margins. After recognizing how Modesta’s story had been sexualized, criminalized or simply forgotten, I made it my personal and visual objective to shoot as much detail as possible, thus providing multiple alternative perspectives. Unfortunately, many people in Santa Ana and the surrounding community are still unaware of Modesta’s narrative due to the lack of archived information and history that has documented her memory. Historians such as Richard Brock and his work, Modesta Again: Setting the Record Straight have countered Modesta’s narrative by criminalizing and sexualizing her . While the responsibility of a historian involves telling a more “accurate” sense of the past from an unbiased position—this is not the case. The history taught in standard US classrooms is dominated by an idealistic Westernized perspective told by the white cisgender male perspective. The counter narrative provided by Modesta reciprocates the equal oppressive and damaging behavior expressed in court that did not grant her a fair trial or the opportunity to voice her story as its authentic truth. And here I am, a nineteen year old in 2021 re-presenting history for all of us to learn more about the truths of Modesta Avila’s life.

---

Cecilia López is a photographer, research coordinator and literacy tutor. She is an advocate for human trafficking survivors; her creative work intersects social justice themes with photographic documentation. She is a second year undergraduate student at the University of California, Berkeley majoring in Sociology with a focus on Chicanx Studies and Digital Humanities. Currently, she is a research contributor for the 2020-2021 USLDH Mellon-Funded Grant: Modesta Avila Obstructing Development Since 1889, an archival project that documents the life of Modesta Avila, under the direction of Sarah Rafael García.  

Collecting and Re-presenting US History: Digital Storytelling as Archives

By Sarah Rafael García

As an adjunct professor teaching Ethnofiction Through Contemporary Narratives at Chapman University, every semester I tell the following story on the first day of class:

In late 2019, I arrived to meet with Dr. Gabriela Baeza Ventura after procrastinating for months and while carrying a backpack full of books and snacks. I procrastinated to meet with her and loaded my backpack with too many things because I thought I would spend six to eight hours beating my head against my laptop. You laugh, but you should all know that I went to undergrad before the internet existed. As you can imagine, I’m not tech friendly at all. But what I learned in a couple of hours, besides how to create a virtual timeline, was that the digital humanities are also abbreviated as DH and not about elaborate techy skills. DH is about the passion to share knowledge — to provide information without the barriers of financial constraints and paywalls. Dr. Baeza Ventura became a relevant role-model — not because we are from the same generation — but because she’s a Latina passing on knowledge in order for all of us to be able to collect, preserve and re-present our own history in the US. And now I’m passing on those skills to you, I can’t wait to see what you teach others.

After a year of navigating through a pandemic and witnessing an invasion of the US Capitol by white supremacists, I find myself lacking motivation to continue creating. But as a Chicana born at la frontera and first generation everything, I also know more than ever that Black, Indigenous and people of color (BIPOC) communities need to continue to evolve and rise through our various platforms. I started to incorporate digital humanities into literary projects in 2016. As a MFA graduate and writer who was struggling to sustain myself through employment and obtain acknowledgement as a scholar, I brainstormed on how I could fortify my work while still remaining creative, critical and countering the national headlines.

I felt it was imperative to be strategic on how I passed on research and information to my audience. I didn’t want to develop a textbook or seminar or false news. I also prioritized accessibility through the use of diverse languages (regional dialects, Spanish and non-academic) and the visual arts. This led to my first collaborative multimedia project SanTana’s Fairy Tales, which included storytelling through music, visual arts and digital archives produced via powerpoint and presented on electronic devices in a live exhibition and accessible via a website.

As a result of that experience and the impact it made in Mexican-American Studies classrooms, I couldn’t imagine completing another publication without support from documented resources or archives. It was through the University of Houston Katherine G. McGovern College for the Arts and Project Row Houses Fellowship in 2019 that I got to visit and learn from Arte Público Press’ Recovering the US Hispanic Literary Heritage Program (Recovery) and US Latino Digital Humanities Program (USLDH).

With the help of Recovery/USLDH, I created my first virtual timeline for my living archival project, Reality Check 3rd Ward. It was the first fellowship program that allowed me to establish research methods to collect and preserve BIPOC history and culture while drawing parallels from regional BIPOC social justice movements to national politics. The combined mentorship also led me to design an undergraduate course. Ethnofiction Through Contemporary Narratives is a research and writing workshop using digital humanities and creative writing to trace BIPOC, LGBTQ+ and feminist history from the 1960s to present time. The course is open to students studying history, anthropology, creative writing, ethnic studies, women and gender studies, and humanities in order to pilot how they each will interpret US history while also learning to enhance and document their research through the arts and digital humanities. Students are expected to complete a historical virtual timeline, multimedia project in one semester. Over the last two semesters, I have witnessed a new generation of students accomplish more in three months than what I accomplished in a one-year fellowship.

Modesta Avila Obstructing Development Since 1889 (#MAOD)

Artistic rendition of Modesta Avila.
(Image credit: Carla y Patricia Zárate Suárez)

Through each past experience, I continued to research Modesta Avila. She served as muse for one of my stories in SanTana’s Fairy Tales and learning about her then taught me how to dig deeper for more unsung heroes while conducting research for Third Ward Houston. She became my research topic for the USLDH Mellon-Funded Grant: Modesta Avila Obstructing Development Since 1889 (#MAOD).

To me, Modesta Avila has become even more relevant these last few weeks. As a Mexican American who obstructed development of the railroad system in Southern California in the late 1800s, her place in history has been perpetuated as a criminal. She is the first felon out of Orange County who was initially convicted in Santa Ana and became the first woman admitted into the San Quentin State Prison. Her mugshot has become as iconic as the Australian 19 Crimes wine labels showcasing British prisoners through augmented reality. She’s known by some but none have actually heard her story without her mugshot establishing their point of view.

The majority of the publications available before 1920 are newspaper clippings and court documents, all of which cover the points of view of city officials and court proceedings in Santa Ana. Most recently, like in the last 15-20 years, there seems to be a fascination about Modesta currently existing as an urban legend near the San Juan Capistrano train station and to many in Santa Ana she has provided inspiration as a late 1800’s youth activist fighting against development. However, the majority of her history has only been published under white scholars and some even go as far as minimizing her purpose to merely a nuisance.

Follow the #MAOD Twitter account at @ModestaAvilaOD

#MAOD is a bilingual platform for collecting and sharing relevant history with a specific focus on Latinx, women and regional narratives in English and Spanish. #MAOD builds movement culture by preserving and re-presenting history from a people of color point of view. Combined, the archives and published creative work will also present a bilingual open-source book through APP Digital that engages a broader audience through diverse language, scholarly work and the digital humanities. With the collaborative research produced alongside undergraduate student and photographer Cecilia Lopez, we will transpose Modesta Avila’s image from criminal to digital storyteller. The digital enhancement is supported in part by multi-media artist Carla Zarate Suarez and transmedia artist Reema, jointly they will create the graphic illustrations and augmented reality for digital storytelling. Most recently, Modesta Avila has resurfaced in Twitter– collectively we have reconstituted her image to demonstrate a story from an alternative perspective. Her narrative includes black and white photos as regional documentation. #MAOD is the first multi-media scholarly publication of Modesta Avila that is collected, preserved and re-presented by two Chicanas from SanTana: Sarah Rafael García and Cecilia Lopez.

And yet over the last few weeks media headlines share how white supremacists rioted and vandalized the White House. Their actions have not been held accountable as a criminal act; they continue to gain attention and live their lives. This, again, leads me back to Modesta Avila– who was convicted and sent to San Quentin State Prison for hanging up a clothesline across railroad tracks. As a woman of color and Mexican American myself, born in the US, I have experienced firsthand how I too have become a nuisance to the white hierarchical models of this nation. Tracing Modesta’s history is affirming and also provides a method to continue to teach the next BIPOC generation to tell their own history– the digital humanities is the platform that has the potential to set the record straight and elevate our work and US history virtually and globally.

---

Sarah Rafael García is a writer, community educator, and performance ethnographer. She’s the author of Las Niñas and SanTana’s Fairy Tales, co-editor of pariahs writing from outside the margins and the forthcoming sci-fi anthology Speculative Fiction for Dreamers as well as founder of Barrio Writers and LibroMobile. Currently, she splits her time between shipping books out to loyal readers across the nation, teaching Ethnofiction Through Contemporary Narratives, and developing an archival ethnofiction project for the life of Modesta Avila as a 2020 USLDH Mellon-Funded Grantee. Follow her on Twitter: @SarahRafaGarcia.

Fighting Fascist Spain: The Exhibit

Worker Antifascist Culture in US Spanish-language Periodicals

By Montse Feu, Sam Houston State University

[Featured photo caption: España Libre, Feb. 16, 1962:1. Founders’ picture. From left to right: Jesús González Malo (11th first row); José Nieto Ruiz (4th second row​); Félix Martí Ibáñez (8th second row); Aurelio Pego (5th top row). Should readers identify people in photograph please email Montse Feu at mm017 (at) shsu (dot) edu. Thank you.]

Over the last decade and through several publications, I have shared the story of US Hispanic workers in their fight against fascism, which included fundraising for the victims, grassroots activism, and publication of periodicals. My book, Fighting Fascist Spain. Worker Protest from the Printing Press (2020), shows how workers’ print culture and politics, most prominently anarchism and socialism, shaped their antifascism. Likewise, my co-edited volume, Writing Revolution: Hispanic Anarchism in the United States (2019), examines the ways in which Spanish-language anarchist periodicals established and maintained transnational networks that fought for the emancipation for workers from the late nineteenth through twentieth centuries in the United States, and part of this fight was the eradication of fascism. With this in mind, I have recovered, transcribed, and compiled Spanish Civil War exile correspondence to show its effectiveness as a post-war communication method that antifascist leaders like Jesús González Malo employed to strengthen their resistance networks in the context of transnational anarchism in Correspondencia personal y política de una anarcosindicalista exiliado: Jesús González Malo (1950-1965) (2016).

I research this fascinating topic thanks to the Recovering the US Hispanic Literary Heritage program, which welcomed me as a research assistant while I was working on my PhD coursework. Interested in learning more about Spanish Civil War exile in the United States, I had applied to the University of Houston. My interest, both academic and personal, developed from the fragmented stories of anarchists, the Spanish Civil War, fascist terror, and transatlantic travels to the Americas I heard as a child. My research assistantship mainly consisted of recovering and cataloguing two Spanish Civil War Periodicals: Frente Popular (1936-1939) and España Libre (1939-1977). One of the first texts I catalogued was a refugee narrative. It portrayed refugees in their miles-long walk toward France at the end of the Spanish Civil War. The piece especially caught my attention because it described their crossing of my native hometown near Barcelona. From that moment, disseminating such hidden stories of resistance has been my calling, the root of much of my happiness, and the greatest privilege I have experienced.

Fighting Fascist Spain: The Exhibit, sponsored by the Grants-in-Aid of the US Latino Digital Humanites (USLDH) program, visualizes the story of the Sociedades Hispanas Confederadas (SHC) as told in Fighting Fascist Spain (2020). When the Spanish Civil War broke out, about two hundred US Hispanic cultural and mutual aid societies came together in what became known as the Sociedades Hispanas Confederadas (SHC). The SHC was devoted to its antifascist cause, particularly through its activism and the publication of Frente Popular (1936-1939), which changed its name to España Libre (1939-1977), until democratic elections were held again in Spain. España Libre (1939-1977) was the longest sustained antifascist bilingual periodical in the United States. Twentieth century U.S. Hispanic workers had a clear transnational consciousness: old migrants and new exiles from European fascism coalesced in overlapping communities across the United States and were linked to similar antifascist networks in other countries. Along with affiliated associations, theater groups, rallies, and demonstrations, periodicals provided public spaces of protest and solidarity in the United States.

Fighting Fascist Spain: The Exhibit intends to recover and make available worker antifascist visual culture. As physical objects, images in US Spanish-language periodicals are fragile. This digital collection will document otherwise disappearing memories of local and global networks of political protest and solidarity. Visual sources recovered in The Exhibit comprise but are not limited to:

• announcements and photographs of rallies and demonstrations, photographs and obituaries of demonstrators
• announcements of cultural fundraisers and the antifascist plays, photographs and obituaries of participants
• cartoons, and photographs and obituaries of artists

Fighting Fascist Spain: The Exhibit intends to support antifascist researchers, descendants, and the general interested public in their efforts to recover information on victims of fascism and their allies, rebuild broken family stories, and amplify the victims’ voice and perspective.

---

Montse Feu, P.hD is an associate professor at Sam Houston State University. Dr. Feu recovers the literary history of the Spanish Civil War exile in the United States, US Hispanic periodicals, and migration and exile literature at large. Her most recent book is Fighting Fascist Spain. Worker Protest from the Printing Press, (2020) You can find her online at: https://montsefeu.wixsite.com/montsefeu.

Recuperando las voces hispanas del periódico La Voz de Nueva York (1937-1939)

Por Ana María Díaz-Marcos, Universidad de Connecticut

Cuando era alumna graduada en la Universidad de Masachussetts en Amherst hace más de veinte años tuve la oportunidad de pasar unos días trabajando en la Biblioteca Pública de Nueva York. Mi maestro Antonio Fernández Insuela, de la Universidad de Oviedo, me había invitado a participar en un congreso que conmemoraba el sesenta aniversario del exilio republicano y me propuso presentar algún trabajo dedicado a la prensa escrita por los exiliados. Me fui a Nueva York con juvenil entusiasmo y tuve la suerte del principiante pues ahora, con muchos años de investigación a mis espaldas, sé que no siempre aparece tan rápido aquello que se busca. El primer día encontré una referencia que llamó poderosamente mi atención: “Voz (Nueva York, N.Y. 1937) Spanish Newspaper Co, 1937-1939”. Eran los años de la contienda española y yo había encontrado un tesoro, un periódico publicado allí mismo en español durante la guerra civil con una voluntad radicalmente antifascista, “palpitante de intenciones democráticas y justicieras”, como declara su primer editorial el 19 de julio de 1937 coincidiendo con el aniversario de alzamiento. Después de ese primer número de carácter especial, La Voz comienza a publicarse con regularidad a partir del 24 de agosto de 1937 hasta diciembre de 1939. A partir de ese momento el título pasa a ser La Nueva Voz y la historia de esa segunda época se vuelve incierta porque solamente hay unos pocos ejemplares dispersos. La Voz se vendió a 3 centavos durante esos dos años y se dirigía a un lector bastante concreto: la colonia antifascista formada por hispanos, inmigrantes y exiliados viviendo en ese momento en la costa este de Estados Unidos. Como proclama la publicación Frente Popular La Voz era el “legítimo vocero de la gran masa de la colonia de habla española de América”. Fue, sin duda, un periódico comprometido y combativo que se mantuvo fiel a sus ideales democráticos y principios políticos, como proclamaba en agosto de 1938: “Nuestro lema sigue siendo el mismo: POR LA JUSTICIA SOCIAL, POR LA DEMOCRACIA; CONTRA LA TIRANÍA Y EL FASCISMO”.

En aquel momento pude fotocopiar toda una serie de artículos antifascistas que se convirtieron en los materiales primarios para mi presentación en aquel congreso y también para el artículo que se publicó posteriormente en las actas. Esa carpeta con recortes desapareció en alguna de mis mudanzas de un lado al otro del Atlántico pero me quedó el deseo de retomar algún día esa publicación para prestarle más atención a su contenido político y a sus propuestas en materia de género sexual. De hecho, en enero de 1938 Federica Montseny hacía un emocionado llamamiento desde sus páginas a las mujeres americanas destacando su papel y deber en la lucha antifascista:

¡Mujeres de América! ¡Maestras, intelectuales, empleadas, periodistas, obreras! Donde quiera que estéis escuchadme (…) ¡Ayudadnos! ¡Movilizad vuestras conciencias! ¡Agitad a favor de España y las víctimas del fascismo donde quiera que estéis! Es vuestro deber de antifascistas, de madres, de mujeres dignas, en todo momento.

“La Voz.” Frente Popular. August 30, 1937. Arte Público Hispanic Historical Collection, p. 4.

La beca que recibo a través del programa Recovering the US Hispanic Heritage me permite, finalmente, retomar este proyecto inacabado. La Voz publicó una “Página de la mujer” que contiene información sumamente relevante para entender el feminismo hispánico de los años treinta y la posición de la mujer en esa sociedad inestable y en proceso de lucha y afán de reinvención. Mi propósito es recoger, digitalizar y estudiar una serie de artículos publicados en el periódico por feministas y activistas hispanas y latinas. Muchas de estas escritoras e intelectuales publicaron en La Voz y muchos de esos textos (como el de Montseny) no han sido recogidos o reeditados desde entonces. En 1938, por ejemplo, se publicaron en esa “Página de la mujer” un buen número de artículos firmados por la sufragista mexicana Margarita Robles de Mendoza, fundadora de la Unión de Mujeres Americanas (1934) y residente en Nueva York en aquellos años. Robles de Mendoza escribió artículos sobre los derechos de las mujeres, la explotación de las obreras en las fábricas, el papel de las mujeres en la España republicana y en la lucha antifascista. Otras autoras como la feminista mexicana Blanca Lydia Trejo, la periodista Rosa Amelia Aparicio o la diputada socialista Margarita Nelken, que después se exiliaría y moriría en México, también publicaron en La Voz. Ese activismo intelectual y empeño antifascista implican un esfuerzo absolutamente revolucionario. Mi intención es hacer accesible esos artículos y diseminar las voces de estas intelectuales y activistas para lograr una mejor comprensión de las relaciones entre antifascismo y feminismo. Haciendo un juego de palabras: La voz otorgó voz a discursos antifascistas, feministas, comprometidos con la democracia que se articularon en español desde Nueva York como centro de irradiación y oposición al fascismo. Ahora, ochenta años después de que terminara esa guerra que fue la antesala de la Segunda Guerra Mundial pero también el comienzo de una larga dictadura en España, es un ejercicio necesario de memoria histórica recordar esas voces latinas comprometidas con la causa antifascista.

Díaz-Marcos, Ana María. “El periódico neoyorquino La Voz (1937-1939): Prensa y literatura frente al franquismo.” Sesenta años después: el exilio literario asturiano de 1939: actas del Congreso Internacional celebrado en la Universidad de Oviedo, 20, 21 y 22 de octubre de 1999. Biblioteca Virtual Miguel de Cervantes.

Frente Popular. Arte Público Hispanic Historical Collection. EBSCO.

---

Ana María Díaz-Marcos es profesora titular de Literatura Española en el Departamento de Literaturas, Culturas y Lenguas de la Universidad de Connecticut. Sus campos de trabajo son la literatura, el teatro, el feminismo histórico y los estudios de género. Su trabajo más reciente es Escenarios de crisis: dramaturgas españolas en el nuevo milenio que se encuentra disponible en acceso abierto.