Armed President
I had determined to write down in one go right now about the deeds concerning the situation of great expectation, of taking place happenings longed by all the people poor in the world. We live in a cruel world subject to genocides, even announced previously, by eagerness of power and richnesses, enslaved, where there are famines, misery and poverty. Assassin Capital and its accomplices the bourgeois tried to cheat us with urns, only interested in creating a decisive half-middle class to hold them in power, politicians who from government consent of poverty, even promote misery, not having true sanity and for dark reasons always.
Soon shall come to meet me my old comrades Alfonso Romero, Pablo Cabo and Jorge Olivas, to whom I saw carrying out terrorist actions on the microfilm my father made me watch in a room of the Regency Hotel School in Ramsgate, Kent, England. I saw them smiling inside a car. Of course, I saw my brothers too, Arturo driving the lorry and Miguel pushing forward and shooting up twice in the back of a girl I knew then her name was to be Ana. Then I saw the blasting against government’s president Carrero Blanco in times of dictator Franco. After this I saw Madrid’s Puerta Del Sol the day of the Proclamation of the Second Republic on 14th April 1931. The sequences of the film turned to be, after, filmed scenes of let us say named executions unknown by then by the masses, old and recent wars’ scenes, Party’s communications, my father’s messages, and besides Lenin giving speeches. As I had guessed already some of the scenes had been filmed clandestinely and I was the chosen to be the leader of world’s revolution against the genocides’ empire that invade countries voraciously, against capitalism and bourgeois system of social scales, against consenters of poverty, promoters of misery. And, of course, I wrote the nine pages and dreamed awake about seeing myself giving speeches since then.
I lived in the house of my friend Manuel Ordaz Bruzo, where we had the king’s sister as neighbour, but I was so sure I didn’t go away from there until I realised that it was proposed to me, and it was better, start to lead the revolution from my parents and brothers house in Almendrales, Usera, Madrid, where nearer lived or are living too, let us laugh at it, Alfonso, Pablo and Jorge. When I saw the three of you smiling from the car I felt very happy and we all know you will make happy to all human beings of good volition.
In my memory I keep some remembrances which provokes in me an impetus I can barely contend. These remembrances inclines me always to think not in another thing but in revolution. I expected to be named president of the Spanish Communist Party and the International Communist Party in 1979 and as I have said somewhere else (I know where), let’s laugh at it; I have been the president all the time, with or without the microfilm, such as it was necessary. I know that the measures the Communist Party’s government will take will not be possible of being not considered just and satisfactory to all the population equally.
Everybody knows I have powers, and also I can reproduce the microfilm’s sequences in many world places at the same time; that is, bullets and bombs, small and big, and fascists being executed. These powers or capacity of reproducing the sequences allow me to face fascism provoking the reproductions in the places where the henchmen are together, to whom I send also the same movement of a machine gun in action, and not only with words, but with weighty reasons, offensive and hurtful, I threat the puppets of appearance who have always been the traitors of revolutions and impeded that communist goodnesses were carried out. By telepathy I get in touch with my most beloved ones, my parents and brothers, with Alfonso, Pablo and Jorge, with other communists, and not since a short time but since I was a child with my parents and pretty soon since I knew them with my three comrades. My powers are a stimulus for these waiting for world's revolution too, and an attack against the fascists.
One day you came to my house and although we didn’t greet I saw you parading behind the bushes and I listened to you when you left me the clear message of being supporting me. What has been planned so long ago will be carried out such as it was plotted, and you will come back to meet me again, and you (you knew), and this wasn’t expected by fascists, will enrich the capacity of my powers and I will be able to make use of them putting all my senses in the struggle for revolution.
That day, 27 September 1975, were executed by firing squad five militants, three of FRAP and two of ETA. The three members of Revolutionary Antifascist Patriotic Front (FRAP) were José Humberto Baena, José Luis Sánchez Bravo and José Luis García Sánz, and the two of ETA Political-Militar were Juan Paredes Manot (Txiki) and Ángel Otaegui. There were big demonstrations against Franco in Spain and in many world countries. That day, when you came into the poolroom I knew it had been you who had avenged the fired militants in the morning killing some army members. And I knew I had been elected to lead the revolution beside you. I told my mother while watching news on television that it was very likely you had been the ones who had killed the army members. She asked me what made me suspect. I told her Alfonso had passed a finger across his lips. She said that it was then very likely. It is for this that all the time, and so intensely sometimes, I have in mind the fusillades after an attack to power’s centers in a final assault, that I reach extraordinary prodigies. For derision of fascists we had already made known to them they have no place where to hide, the Front won't let them breathe and will exterminate them.
Amongst my papers I had written something similar, but I needed to procure me this version, more than for anything else, to see how I wrote today when I reread myself later, although also for the conjunction of revolutionary impetus and lucidity too.
