Viñas doesn’t waver. Not only does he reverse the commissioner’s decision, he also criticizes his ideas, demonstrating a rational spirit and a respect for the ideas of others:
The Public Safety Law has long been the subject of judicial decisions and has just as long been the cause of errors, with a lack of knowledge of our social history leading to many blatantly unfounded assertions. The flyer distributed by the workers only states that the event will commemorate the execution of the person mentioned, describing him solely as the founder of the Modern School, nothing more. There is no mention of any political tendency on the flyer that could be considered anarchist or libertarian, which are admittedly new developments in the history of ideas and whose consequences in the history of events are even more recent. The scientific conception of anarchism, its theories and the nature of its attacks are not only extremely vague and confusing to the masses, but also to sociologists and law professors. When these fundamental doubts present themselves before the court, the duty of the law must be to prevent any restriction of the freedom of assembly guaranteed in the Constitution.
Reading this decision, we have to give Viñas his due. It’s clear that he had a special sensibility. It was truly exceptional and daring to sign the defense of a labor demonstration in this way, and even more exceptional still for a homage to Ferrer in regions where the government was controlled by the mighty—and just one year after the Tragic Week, when it was the duty of all well-born Argentines to hunt down revolutionary workers.
He orders the ban to be lifted and for the governor to be informed of his decision.
The governor is notified on October 2nd. Correa Falcón, neither stupid nor lazy, drafts his own resolution: “Acknowledge receipt of the judicial decision and, as the date on which the permit for a demonstration had been requested has since passed, place the permit on file.”
Even though the opportunity to pay homage to Ferrer has passed, the workers cannot contain their enthusiasm for the judge’s decision. They feel defended; their ideas have triumphed over the government officials whom they accuse of being mere lackeys of commercial and landowning interests. The Workers’ Society lifts the strike. Now the offensive will be taken by the merchants and the property owners of the Commerce and Industry League. They find a leader in Ibón Noya, a rancher and the owner of the Buick Garage, an auto parts store. And their counteroffensive will also begin with boycotts. The first thing they do is organize an advertisers’ boycott of a newspaper called La Gaceta del Sur, which published an article praising the strike.
The Workers’ Society responds to this blow with an even heavier one: a boycott of three local businesses. They distribute flyers among the population encouraging them not to purchase from three local grocery stores. With this measure, they aim to divide the alliance of the bosses, since other grocers will double their earnings as long as nobody patronizes the three boycotted businesses.
Correa Falcón summons Soto to the police station to end the conflict with the Commerce and Industry League. But the anarchist tells Commissioner Ritchie that a police station is hardly an ideal location to resolve labor issues.
Correa Falcón realizes that words are of no more use and goes all in. On the night of October 19th, the Workers’ Society holds an assembly. So he acts. First measure: agents are stationed outside the doors of the union headquarters so nobody can leave. Second measure: the police chief himself directs the raid, which will be carried out by prison guards. The workers are forced against the wall with their hands up and—once they have been patted down for weapons—they are thrown out of the union offices and lined up in full view of their neighbors. Then, escorted by bayonets, they are marched in single file to the nearest jail and locked up with the common criminals to soften them up.
In the meantime, Correa Falcón covers his back, wiring the following message to the interior minister:
A group of labor agitators held a meeting without the permit required under existing regulations. The group, which for some time has been characterized by their extortionate tactics and the aggressive nature of their propaganda, disobeyed police orders to disperse. The police arrested ten individuals on violations of the public safety and social defense laws, as red flags and banners were confiscated, as were a large number of flyers calling for consumers to boycott local businesses. The municipal government and the Commerce and Industry League passed measures in support of the police action and have ensured that the populace will not suffer from shortages in the event of a strike. These measures have been welcomed by public opinion. Preliminary depositions have demonstrated the guilt of those arrested. I hope that you will inform me if they should be turned over to the federal government, given that they are foreigners to a man.
The governor’s plan was perfect. Only the immigrants were processed and he took advantage of the government’s confusion by offering the interior minister a way out: put them aboard a battleship, send them all to Buenos Aires and apply Law 4.144, expelling them from the country. Dead, the dog is cured of rabies. Great problems require great solutions.
This plan would have been very easy to carry out under a conservative government. But now Hipólito Yrigoyen was in power and such cavalier treatment of the lives of others, even if they were nothing more than poor immigrants, was being slightly curtailed.
There was one big fish among those arrested at the union offices: Dr. José María Borrero. According to Correa Falcón, there were three men responsible for everything that had been happening in that sleepy Patagonian town: Judge Viñas, the fiery Borrero, and the Spaniard, Soto.
Those arrested were all Spaniards, which Borrero and his friends skillfully frame as an attack on the Spanish community. They complain to the Spanish consul and the federal government.
With its offices closed and the majority of its leaders jailed, the Workers’ Society immediately launches a general strike. Judge Viñas orders Correa Falcón to immediately free the arrestees, but he refuses to carry out the judge’s orders.
With battleships available to take the arrestees away, the governor impatiently awaits the response of the interior minister. But the response of the federal government is truly disappointing for Correa Falcón: “If the preliminary depositions aren’t strong enough to begin legal proceedings against the arrestees locally, they should be released, keeping them under discreet surveillance in order to avoid civil disturbances.” This means that Correa Falcón must either turn the prisoners over to his enemy Viñas or grant them conditional freedom. He chooses to take a different path. He still has plenty of room to maneuver and sees no reason to admit defeat, though he only has a few weeks left in office—his replacement, Captain Ángel Yza, has already been named. He finds his inspiration in the interior minister’s telegram, which states, “If the preliminary depositions aren’t strong enough…” This suggests that he still has an opportunity to build his case, which can take several days. And Santa Cruz is very far away from the capital—between telegram and telegram, the prisoners could spend a great deal of time in the shadows.
But the situation deteriorates. The strike spreads like an oil spill throughout the countryside. The Workers’ Society distributes the following manifesto to nearby ranches:
Greetings, comrades. The police have arrested a group of workers and refused to release them, even when so ordered by the judge. Such an abuse of authority has forced us to call a general strike, and so we urge you to stop work and come to the capital as an act of solidarity until