Gus Daubenspeck

1938.8.29 - Letter re Spain - wound - Ebro - Harry Sander

This short note – giving Elizabeth the Barcelona address of a friend who had been wounded at Ebro – must date from 1938. The battle of the Ebro (the longest, largest and bloodiest of the Spanish Civil War) took place between July and November of that year, ending in massive defeat for the Republicans.

I don’t know who Harry Sander, the writer of the letter, is – and if Elizabeth had met him in Spain, or in London (where she had lived and worked in the East End before going to Puigcerda in late 1937).

Gus Daubenspeck, the man shot in the back at the battle of the Ebro, seems to have been an International Brigader from the East End (Lamb Lane in Hackney), and is listed here as one of the Jewish volunteers who went to Spain as part of the British Battalion. Unfortunately I haven’t been able to find any further information about Gustav Daubenspeck, and this makes me wonder if he died of his injuries while still in Spain, or went on to be killed in the Second World War, or even later changed his name. Nevertheless, it is a reminder that, like Frank, most of the British volunteers in Spain were working class men – including from the East End – and that many (roughly a quarter) were Jewish.

(In trying to find out more about Gus Daubenspeck, I came across this nice account of another Jewish East End volunteer, Jack Shaw: https://www.jewisheastend.com/internationalbrigade.html)

UPDATE: After posting this on twitter, asking if anyone knew more about Gus Daubenspeck, the fount of Spanish Civil War knowledge that is Richard Baxell got in touch to say that he could send me information about Gus Daubenspeck. He also sent me this photo of Daubenspeck from the Russian State Archives in Moscow:

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Red Fifties: Ramkrishna Mukherjee, Frank Girling, Marxist anthropology and anti-communism

Earlier this year I wrote the below about my grandfather, Frank Girling, and his friend and colleague, Ramkrishna Mukherjee, and the ways in which they were excluded from the British anthropology establishment because of their politics and their suspected links with decolonisation movements. This was originally published in the Journal of the Asiatic Society (and is republished with permission), and was written at the request of Rila Mukherjee for a special issue of the journal in honour of her father, who died in 2015. It is a (very) long read, and is slightly off topic (it isn’t about the 1930s, or about the Spanish Civil War), but it nevertheless feels appropriate to post it here (and now).

N.B. There is one correction – care of my mother – to the below account of events. See end for details.

 

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Ramkrishna Mukherjee and Frank Girling: Marxist Anthropology and McCarthyism in the 1950s

Of all the things that I thought I might do in my life, it never crossed my mind that one day I would be asked to write about the eminent sociologist Ramkrishna Mukherjee for the Journal of the Asiatic Society. I am not a sociologist, and never met Ramkrishna Mukherjee, nor have I studied his work – however, for a brief period in the late 1940s and early 1950s, he and my grandfather were friends, colleagues and comrades. They met at Cambridge in the late 1940s – Ramkrishna was there as a PhD student and my grandfather, Frank Girling, as an undergraduate. My grandfather would have been older than many of his fellow undergraduate students (and he was two years older than Ramkrishna); upon leaving school he had worked in various jobs before volunteering for the Republican side in the Spanish Civil War, where he met my grandmother, Elizabeth Aytoun. They married soon after the outbreak of the Second World War and Frank was conscripted into the army; he spent much of the war in India, partly with the Indian Army – having defected from the British Army. He did not become an undergraduate, therefore, until he was in his late twenties, when he went to Cambridge to study social anthropology in the aftermath of the Second World War (special arrangements were in place for ex-servicemen, compressing what was normally a three-year degree into two).  It was there that he and Ramkrishna – who was then at Cambridge working towards his PhD – first met.

Last year – prompted by a request for information about my grandfather’s doctoral research, and his time in Uganda – I began the process of looking through his papers. Because his papers are mixed up with my grandmother’s, this became a far bigger task than I had originally anticipated. For a while I was overwhelmed with the volume and scope of the papers they had left behind them; as a grand-daughter who still misses them both dreadfully, it was wonderful to be able to read their words and to be able to discover things that I hadn’t previously known about their past. I was particularly struck by the amount of material (letters, postcards, pamphlets, etc.) about their time in the lead up to and during the Spanish Civil War and this, combined with a radio show that I heard at the time about British volunteers in Spain, led me to begin a blog about their experiences there. In the process of looking through a box of papers from around this time, I found a packet of letters clipped together; these were letters from Ramkrishna Mukherjee to my grandfather, and carbon copies of my grandfather’s letters to him. These led me to contact Ramkrishna’s daughter, Rila Mukherjee, in the hope that she might be able to tell me more about the relationship between the two men, and possibly even to find more letters between them. It was Rila who asked if I might write something about Ramkrishna and my grandfather, and about this early moment in their academic lives. I would love to have been able to document their correspondence fully – to trace their friendship and working relationship in full – however, to do this, I would need to find more of the correspondence between the two, and look in more detail at the research and articles that they produced together (I would also love to one day find the photographs that Ramkrishna took during their time together in Uganda). For now, however, that is  unfortunately beyond my means; I have had to rely on their correspondence that I have had to hand, and what information about the two men and their work at this time that I have been able to find. I only hope that even the limited view that I present here will go some way to illuminating this moment in the early intellectual lives of these two extraordinary men. Continue reading Red Fifties: Ramkrishna Mukherjee, Frank Girling, Marxist anthropology and anti-communism

Ephemera: Barcelona envelope

Inevitably, there are many items other than letters and photographs among Frank and Elizabeth’s papers – bus tickets, leaflets, luggage labels, scraps of papers covered in scribbled notes.  This envelope was in the same bundle of papers as the letter giving Frank free passage to help in the aftermath of the March 1938 bombing of Barcelona – and perhaps originally contained this letter (although the official stamps and letterheads are different).

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I don’t really know anything about it (I would love to hear from anyone who can tell me more) – but the combination of the Generalitat de Catalunya Comissariat de Propaganda (which Frank worked for, for a while at least) official stationery, the addressee, Fernandez Bolaños, and the various names and addresses written on various parts of the envelope (including one in Russian) give an indication of the various people and networks that Frank would have encountered in Barcelona at this time.

I am pretty sure that it belonged to Frank, and I think perhaps that these were names and addresses of people that he wanted to (or had been asked to) contact, or keep in contact with, after his return to the UK in the late summer of 1938. In his report from this time (possibly July 1938, and possibly for the KGB) he had written: “Now convinced of the inefficiency of the Cat. Government and in particularly of the Esquerra Republicana I do not want to continue and no other work offering I shall go back to England to stimulate the propaganda for Spain.”

He worked in the Newcastle office of the International Brigades Organisation after his return to the UK and so it is possible that at least some of these people were intended as contacts in his work “stimulating propaganda for Spain.” The Russian address (“for Jeanna”) is perhaps the most intriguing…

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Barcelona, March 1938

1938.3 - Barcelona bombing

In March 1938 Barcelona was bombed almost continuously over three days by Nationalist planes (supplied by Italy and Germany); the bombing was so heavy that the air raid system was rendered useless as there was no way of telling if the sirens were signalling the beginning or end of an attack.

Frank had been in Puigcerdà until early in 1938, and had come to Barcelona and been issued with a Catalonian identity card on 1st February 1938. I don’t know if he was in Barcelona during the bombing but in his own account of his time in Spain he talked about his work in the Propaganda Office of the Catalonian Generalitat during this period. This letter, from the General Secretary of the Junta Local de Defensa Passiva de Barcelona, 19th March 1938 – the day after the bombing stopped – seems (as far as google translate tells me) to request that Frank be given free passage to help with salvage work in the aftermath of the bombing.

“I have attended to your Fascist friend’s requirements”

I just love everything about this 1934 letter – although I know very little about it, and can barely identify the sender’s signature (I think perhaps it is W. Alan Nield, who was Librarian for the Oxford University Labour Club in 1934 – see below for Trinity Term membership card and information). Presumably Elizabeth had asked a Labour friend from Oxford to recommend some reading to a Surrey-based acquaintance with “fascist” tendencies. I can just imagine my grandmother trying to persuade Home Counties Oxford Fascists to join the Labour Party and telling them that she would send them some books over the summer! It seems that this particular Fascist friend was acting as Secretary for the University of Oxford Fascist Club; unsurprisingly, it is hard to find information about membership of this club – although from the address given (The Old Court, Cranleigh – “it may be a Workers Sanatorium one of these days, if Russia is anything to go by!!!”), I think it might have been a man with the surname Marshall.

I wonder if he ever did read John Strachey‘s The Menace of Fascism (1933) or The Coming Struggle for Power (1932). It’s an interesting reminder that there was a point before the Second World War (and before the Spanish Civil War), when Fascism was debated – and countered – intellectually, at least to some extent, and that Elizabeth and her friend, Alan, both seemed to have some hope that reading and counter-argument could persuade the “Fascist friend” of the error of his ways… (although Alan does acknowledge that “Fascists when successful are always so swollen with national pride that they lose the use of reason”).

1934.9.25 - fascist friends requirement

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“There is a long straight valley”: one year of Frank and Elizabeth’s “Red Thirties”

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Frank (second from left) and Elizabeth (fourth from left), Puigcerdà, January 1938

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I haven’t posted for a while (I have been trying to have a PhD thesis “push”), but wanted to write something to mark the anniversary of my beginning this project. I didn’t know what to expect when I began; I wasn’t sure quite how the non-chronological posting of items would work (I didn’t, and still don’t, have time to go through and catalogue and order everything properly), nor did I know what I would find, or if anyone (other than my family) would find it all interesting. I am pleased to report that I have been pleasantly surprised on all fronts: the non-chronologicalness of it all hasn’t seemed to matter (and I have really enjoyed just diving into various boxes and seeing what I can find), and various people – from all over the world – seem to have found it interesting. I am incredibly grateful to everyone who has read my posts over the last year – and especially to those who I have had contact with in various capacities (from Nancy Clough, whose uncle, Nik Carter, was in Puigcerdà with my grandparents, to Fraser Raeburn, who sent me my grandfather’s Comintern file, and Hannah and Jenny who translated a long document from that file for me).

For this anniversary I had hoped to find and post an essay by my grandmother about Puigcerdà, and about her and Frank’s time there (I think she may have written it for the Daily Worker, although I don’t know if it was ever published – certainly, it appears to designed to raise support for the Republicans outside Spain). Unfortunately my brief Sunday night raid of my mother’s cellar didn’t yield the typescript (and I can’t remember which box it is in). However, I did find this first draft of the first page, complete with Elizabeth’s notes – I think it’s charming, as well as fascinating (hopefully I’ll find the full version before long). My quick search for it also yielded the above photograph of Frank and Elizabeth in Spain, together with some of the evacuated children from the Puigcerdà camp. This is the first photograph that I have ever seen of them together in Spain (and the only photo I have of Elizabeth in Spain), so I was pretty excited to find it.

Here is an early draft of the first page of my grandmother’s essay/article about life in Puigcerdà during the Spanish Civil War – a curious mix of normality (“there is a funny little hill, with one tower and one lake and one market square on its top”), deprivation (“starvation was drawing near last winter. No vegetables could be bought after seven in the morning, and very few before that; there was no meat at all, bread was poor and the ration five slices a day per person”) and fear (“before the winter was out, bombers had come”).

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Aunt Teedee’s gift of a “living wage”

I have been reading and thinking a lot about Virginia Woolf lately, and so reading this letter this afternoon brought to mind the various ways in which Woolf describes women helping other women – help without which any individual female achievement would be impossible. The help Woolf describes ranges from the practical (the £500/year left her by her aunt) to the intellectual; she imagines the great feminist, suffragette and composer, Ethel Smyth, as a “pioneer”, clearing the way for woman after her:

She is among the ice-breakers, the window-smashers, the indomitable and irresistible armoured tanks who climbed the rough ground; went first; drew the enemy’s fire; and left a pathway for those who came after her. I never knew whether to be angry that such heroic pertinacity was called for, or glad that it had the chance of showing itself.

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The help offered to Elizabeth by her “Aunt Teedee” (her father’s sister, I think) in June 1937, falls firmly into the practical category, however it is no less touching for that. Having left Oxford the previous summer, Elizabeth still had no set career – although clearly she wanted one – and had no immediate plans (or desire?) to marry. She had been active in politics at Oxford, and when she moved to London at the end of her degree she seems to have become involved with the N.U.W.M. (National Unemployed Workers’ Movement – I will post something about this soon). By June 1937 (when she received this letter), it seems that she was working for the League of Nations Union – an internationalist organisation, committed to the principles of the League of Nations (ie international co-operation with the aim of avoiding another world war) – in what must have been an unpaid capacity (I seem to remember my grandmother telling me that she had worked for the League of Nations itself, so it may have been this, rather than the Union that she was working for – hopefully future letters will bring clarity!).  Presumably, like many recent graduates, she didn’t know quite what to do with herself – especially, as someone who cared so much about politics, in the context of fast-moving domestic and international events. Or perhaps she knew exactly what she wanted to do, and was going about it the best way she could.

This was almost a year after the beginning of the Spanish Civil War, but it seems like going there wasn’t yet on Elizabeth’s horizon at this point – however, it would nevertheless have  been becoming increasingly clear that (nationalist) fascism and (internationalist) socialism were competing for the future of Europe. Meanwhile, Britain was blighted by high levels of unemployment – and by the consequences of this in a pre-welfare state – and so the work Elizabeth did, both to agitate for the cause of the unemployed (with the N.U.W.M.), and to support an internationalist organisation like the League of Nations, reflects some of the decade’s key issues.

However, the family narrative (from Elizabeth’s side of the family) was always that she was headstrong and a bit flighty, and that her politics were driven primarily by a desire to spite her mother. It is wonderful, therefore, to come across this letter – to realise that she had (female!) relatives who took her seriously,  and who, furthermore, supported her in concrete terms – such as with this birthday present of two weeks’ wages to continue her work at the League of Nations (/Union). It isn’t quite in quite the same league as the legacy left to Woolf by her aunt (which allowed her “a room of her own”) – but for Aunt Teedee, a middle-aged, middle-class, single woman, with only a small income of her own, it is a hugely generous gesture, and one that speaks of belief in Elizabeth’s capacity to do great, useful things (“a future strenuous life”), as well as tacit solidarity with her ambitions. Thank you Aunt Teedee!

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