Juan Peiró, My Grandad

(Amapola Peiro Olives’s foreword to her father’s book about her grandfather)

This book is a tribute from his son, José, to his beloved father, Juan Peiró, whom he knew intimately, having been his driver when the CNT called upon him to take part in the Largo Caballero government as minister for Industry and, later, as Electricity commissioner for the Negrín government. Of Juan Peiró’s three sons – Liberto, José and Juanito (my own father) – it was my father that devoted his entire life in a deeply committed way to his memory, not forgetting his mother – Mercedes – Juan’s inseparable spouse. One of Juan’s four daughters (along with Aurora, Aurelia and Mercedes), Guillermina, also kept the flame burning in Mataró with lots of enthusiasm and determination. I was born eight years after “Grandad” (Abuelo) was shot on the firing range in Paterna in Valencia on 24 July 1942. His death was due to the fascists’ hatred of all things republican, let alone anarchist or anarcho-syndicalist. It is a matter of great regret to me that I never knew him and yet he is a very familiar figure to me even though I never got to speak to or throw my arms around him. “Grandad” was always a reference point inside the family, the embodiment of kindness, decency, steadfast and clear-thinking and steadfast of heart in the face of adversity.  For me, a life model right from my earliest youth.

I am deeply grateful to the Fundación Salvador Seguí and to the CGT for their having agreed to publish this new biography of my grandfather. It is somewhat longer than the version my father published in 1978 through Foil publishers as Juan Peiró – Teórico y militante del anarcosindicalismo español. Following that initial publication my father was forever at his typewriter, adding to it, resulting in two hefty volumes of typewritten pages that included many of the articles that Grandad wrote for the CNT press. Since my father was never able to secure a publisher for the book in those circumstances, it was then suggested that he whittle down the text, resulting in the book presented here. Unfortunately, my father passed away in 2005 before he could complete the negotiations for publication, so that the moral responsibility for pressing on down the path that he had chosen then fell upon me. 

It strikes me as very natural that it should be the Fundación Salvador Seguí that has taken over the publication now being released, because “el noi del sucre” was my grandad’s teacher and friend. A talk that Seguí gave in a Badalona theatre early in the 20th century left my grandfather utterly enchanted by his personality and thinking, he being a young labour activist simply outraged by social injustice. They were about the same age, more or less, and the bond of friendship between them survived right up until Segui was cut down by the employers’ hired gunmen in 1923.

They shared many ideas in common. They argued that the union was a means of defending the workers’ rights, that it was independent of any ideology – including anarchism – and that the struggle needed to be organized as effectively as possible by means of the sindicatos únicos, that the union could concern itself with anything that impacted on the life of the workers, their health, education and culture. Since they had both been illiterate in their early youth, they placed great store by the need for the worker to be emancipated and they did not think revolution feasible ahead of authentic emancipation of the working class, but both were minded that the union was the best means of organizing the libertarian society of the future for which they were both striving.

To those shared ideas my grandfather brought a dimension of his own – cooperativism. The Mataró glassmakers’ cooperative, for which almost the entire Peiró family worked, was the second axis of his life and a hands-on way of sampling another model of production, sidestepping bourgeois firms. That cooperative was launched in the 1920s by workers who had been blacklisted by the employers. My grandfather led it for many years without any particular privileges for himself and while handling his CNT trade union responsibilities. The cooperative had its own school and insurance scheme and social protection for workers. Men and women were paid the same wages. My cousin Germinal – the son of my grandfather’s oldest daughter, Aurora – handled the bookkeeping and business dealings between the 1960s and the 1990s when it shut down due to the competition coming from the giant Philips company. Germinal, now deceased, wrote a Catalan-language history of the Mataró glassworkers’ cooperative, a text that can be accessed in libraries such as Mataró library, but which would deserve to be published as a short pamphlet.

In the wake of the Retirada (the 1939 retreat of republicans into France), My father never lived in Spain again, even after Franco was no longer in power. He carried on as a member of the CNT in France. He saw to it that I became a naturalized Frenchwoman in 1968 so that I could travel down to Mataró and Barcelona to meet my aunts and cousins without having to be processed by the Francoist consulate. My aunts had returned to Mataró (one of them, Aurora, was already living there) with their mother following the shooting of Grandad. Mercedes did not outlive her beloved husband Juan by many years. Her funeral led to a massive turn-out that was assuredly also in honour of Juan Peiró.

Once he was able to move around freely, my father used to travel every year with my mother Olga Álvarez (sister to Ramón Álvarez, the CNT militant from Asturias) to spend a few days in Mataró, visiting family and old friends. In 1989 Grandad’s remains were removed from Valencia cemetery for reinterment in the Caputxins cemetery in Mataró. That was an emotional day, especially for my father: when his turn came to speak, all he managed to get out was “You have him back now, Mum”. The whole family was very grateful to Mataró City Council for having organized such an impressive ceremony and to Ana Comas, the partner of the late José Puig Pla. The past is past, as the saying goes and society has changed greatly from pre-Civil War days, but I am convinced that people such as Seguí or Grandad can still provide inspiration for today’s youngsters. A lot of their principles still hold water and a little imagination could adapt them to changed circumstances. Let us hope that this short book can inspire fresh energies

Amapola Peiró Olives (married name, Limballe) grand-daughter of Juan Peiró

Jose’s book is “Joan Peiro mi padre. Una vida ejemplar” (FSS Ediciones) ISBN 9788487218378

From Rojo y Negro  No 402, July-August 2025 https://cgt.es/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/402-ryn-julio-agosto.pdf cc-by-nc-sa licence

Translated by: Paul Sharkey.