From Acronauplia to Nezero

Greek Trotskyism From the Unification conference to the Executions

(Part 2)

5. Stalinism and the Second World War

The cohabitation group met once a month. The group’s leadership did not want any political discussions at the meetings, least of all between us and the Stalinists. The camp was established whilst the civil war was raging in Spain, which, thanks to Stalin’s sabotage, led to the defeat and destruction of the Spanish Republic and to Franco’s victory. The consequences were grave in Greece, and in France where the way was opened for Pétain, and of course Hitler profited by this. What were the lessons of the Popular Front? Why did the Stalinists try to strangle any discussion on this subject?

Everybody would talk during these discussions, but only for a minute or two. Political proposals were never adopted. The Stalinists tried to present both the domestic and international situations as favourable when in reality it was nothing of the sort. They believed that these lies would encourage their members and deter them from signing declarations of repentance. We told them that without a correct political orientation, and without any political guidance, Acronauplia, far from becoming a symbol of resistance, would merely represent the defeat of the working class. Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened.

There was no democracy in the cohabitation group, it was bureaucratic. Members had no democratic rights, they were turned into automatons. The Communist Party was the Central Committee, or to be more precise, the party was its leader Ioannidis. The group’s leadership terrorised the members, and nobody dared to express his anxieties. Manousakas wrote:

You needed great courage, as much as you would need in order to face your executioner, if you wished to defend the basic principle of Communism, that is democracy, within the party.

Anyone who disagreed with the leadership was first of all expelled. Then he was branded a traitor, an agent of the Security Police, a spy, and was isolated from his comrades. You can imagine what it meant to be held in isolation, and unable to answer the charges and prove that you are innocent. They would also beat up anyone who disagreed with the leaders. There was no difference between the tortures of the Stalinists and of Maniadakis. Trivelas told me that the Stalinists had planned to kill Papagiannis in the Acronauplia bathroom, and only called it off when some of them objected.

The Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact of August 1939 shocked the Stalinists, although it wasn’t so surprising for us. Trotsky had foreseen as early as 1933 that Stalin was seeking a way to come to an agreement with Hitler, so we were prepared for it. We later heard that in 1937 he had stated this to the Dewey Commission, and again in a speech to a group of US visitors to Mexico on 23 July 1939 – precisely one month before the Pact was signed. [3] The Stalinists described the Pact as “humanistic” and able to preserve peace, but this was shown to be false. No sooner had Molotov and Ribbentrop shaken hands than Hitler and Stalin invaded and partitioned Poland. The Pact was aggressive and expansionist. Hitler required the neutrality of the Soviet Union so that he could strike in the west. We already knew that Stalin had provided Mussolini with fuel when he invaded Ethiopia, and that he was only selling arms to the Spanish Republican government – at double the normal price. Stalin was convinced that the Pact would prevent war with Germany. Despite warnings from his intelligence agents that Hitler was not intending to honour the Pact, he refused to prepare for war, and even started to praise the ‘anti-imperialists’ of Berlin and Rome.

As soon as the Pact was signed, the commander of Acronauplia camp deliberately announced the news to the prisoners. The Stalinists would not believe him, and asked to see the newspaper. He gave it to them and departed. Their confusion was indescribable. Most considered it to be a provocation, and some were getting ready to disavow Communism. We noticed their confusion and desperation, and started to discuss Trotsky’s predictions with them.

Manousakas wrote:

At that time in Acronauplia, it was funny to see the anti-Fascists at loggerheads. Some were hoping for the victory of France and Britain. Others were wishing for the victory of the Fascists.

Manousakas was among those loyal to the policy of anti-Fascism and democracy, and hoped for the victory of Britain and France. But Ioannides followed the Kremlin line, and the Greek Communists started supporting the “hungry nations” and came out against the “imperialists”. Neither presented a Socialist orientation towards the war.

The Trotskyists were the only organisation to hold a revolutionary policy towards the war. Lenin called for the transformation of the imperialist war into a civil war. We declared that both blocs were conducting a purely imperialist war, however they described it. We considered that war was a product of capitalism, and that Lenin, Liebknecht and Trotsky were correct in saying that the enemy was within our own country. Pouliopoulos had warned in June 1937 that there was no greater deceit than the insistence of the Stalinists and Social Democrats that the imperialists could fight an anti-Fascist war. He continued:

And there is no greater deceit than the declaration that claims that the so-called Popular Front will save Europe from another war. The parties of the Popular Front, especially the Stalinists, are issuing increasingly chauvinist and nationalist propaganda under the banner of ‘defending democracy’ in order to prepare ideologically the masses for the new slaughter. The imperialists -democratic and Fascist – are preparing for war, and intend to drag the workers behind them. The biggest betrayal of the workers is being prepared today by the Stalinists and Social Democrats.

Pouliopoulos wrote on 20 October 1937 that:

We Communist Internationalists are the only people in Greece and all other countries who are fighting against capitalism and war. Let us consider the struggle against war as our paramount duty, and transform this war into a class struggle that will ensure the victory of Socialism and the establishment of lasting peace between all the peoples.

We agreed with Lenin’s policy of refusing to side with either imperialist bloc, and called for the defence of the Soviet workers’ state. The Stalinists were unable to formulate a correct political orientation, and were therefore endangering the gains of the October Revolution. The Stalinist bureaucracy in the Soviet Union had to be overthrown, and Soviet democracy restored.
 

6. Neokastro Concentration Camp in Pylos

In the summer of 1939, on the orders of the Ministry of Security, 200 prisoners were taken from Acronauplia to an unknown destination. We said goodbye to our comrades with whom we had been incarcerated for nearly three years, full of anxiety and fear for what was awaiting us. You can imagine with what warmth we shook hands with our comrades whom we left behind.

We departed by night and reached Kalamata by dawn. The dictatorship had managed to turn the poor and the workers of Kalamata so much against Communism that they did not offer even a smile of sympathy when they saw us standing handcuffed in a long row. We were then taken on to Neokastro. The dispersal of prisoners from Acronauplia to Neokastro and other prisons on the islands was intended to divide them from those the authorities believed were their leaders, and so weaken the organisations.

Neokastro was a typical ruined Venetian castle, surrounded by very high walls topped with battlements. The cells were very small and damp. The strongest human would rot in these cells. This medieval grave was considered unfit for common criminals, but Metaxas’ dictatorship had no qualms of using it for us. After all, he did not have the convenience of Dachau’s crematorium.

There were four Trotskyists among the 200 prisoners:

1. Giannis Makris: a fighter for 20 years. He originated in the general strike of 1923 in Pasalimano.
2. Christos Soulas: a young heroic baker who had participated in every struggle from 1926 until the day the dictatorship was established. He was executed in Kaisariani.
3. G. Xipolitos: an heroic worker from the Piraeus who was executed along with Pantelis Pouliopoulos and N. Giannakos in Nezero by the Italians.
4. Loukas Karliaftis: I was jailed alongside the leader of the Stalinists, Koligiannis, the successor to Zachariades. I had met him in 1935 on the island of Al-Stratis, where we shared the same room. We discussed privately there, as the Stalinists were not permitted to discuss with us.

We engaged in unarmed resistance in Neokastro. The men of Metaxas and Maniadakis tried to terrorise us by shooting at us from the top of the prison walls. We were unharmed because we were able to hide behind the walls of the cells.

A unique event took place in Neokastro camp. When the Second World War broke out, the prison commander called in the committees of the Stalinists and the Trotskyists, and asked them to express their positions on the war. Were we for or against it? Behind the question lay a deadly threat. Maniadakis wanted to destabilise the Communist Party, which was already divided. What would he do with those who would not submit? How would he treat the Trotskyists?

The Stalinist committee replied: “Yes, we are on the government’s side in the war against the Italian Fascists, and we ask to be sent to the front in order to fight them.” The prison commander then called on our committee. We had decided that Makris, Soulas and I should go. I answered in the name of the Trotskyists: “No, we are against this war. This war is imperialist on both sides. Greece is nothing more than a pawn on the Anglo-Saxon chessboard.”

He sent us away, rudely. We were sure that, at that moment, he was playing with our lives. But the men of Metaxas did not execute us. This criminal work was carried out by the Stalinists, much in the same way as Noske and Ebert had the Spartakists murdered in Germany at the end of the First World War. The Stalinists murdered hundreds of Trotskyists because we fought to transform the imperialist war into a Socialist revolution.

Trotsky’s Manifesto of the Fourth International on the Imperialist War and the Proletarian World Revolution of May 1940 declared:

... we do not forget for a moment that this war is not our war. In contradistinction to the Second and Third Internationals, the Fourth International builds its policy not on the military fortunes of the capitalist states, but on the transformation of the imperialist war into a war of the workers against the capitalists, on the overthrow of the ruling classes of all countries, on the world Socialist revolution. The shifts in the battle lines at the front, the destruction of national capitals, the occupation of territories, the downfall of individual states, represent from this standpoint only tragic episodes on the road to the reconstruction of modern society. [4]

Thirty-five years elapsed before we managed to get hold of this manifesto. The Pabloites had concealed it because it stood in opposition to their social-patriotism. We published it as soon as we got hold of it, but the Pabloites just ignored it. This text, along with all the documents of Lenin and Trotsky from the First World War, will surely play an important part in the struggle against any future war, and be an inspiration in the fight for Socialism.

The social-patriotic sentiments which the Stalinists had spread around the world was not absent from the ranks of the Trotskyists, not least within James Cannon’s Socialist Workers Party. Its Statement on the US Entry into World War II declared:

Our programme against Hitlerism and for a workers’ and farmers’ government is today the programme of only a small minority. The great majority actively or passively supports the war programme of the Roosevelt administration. As a minority we must submit to that majority in action. We do not sabotage the war or obstruct the military forces in any way. The Trotskyists go with their generation into the armed forces. We abide by the decisions of the majority. But we retain our opinions and insist on our right to express them. [5]

The anti-militarist struggle that was carried out in Neokastro and Acronauplia and on the islands was one of the brightest moments in the history of the revolutionary movement. The Greek Trotskyists honoured the flag of the Fourth International in a manner that few others did. Our bravery at Nezero and Kaisariani, and of those who died at the hands of the Stalinist social-traitors, together with those who survived, stood alongside Trotsky in a way nobody else did.
 

7. Stalinist Social-Patriotism in the Greek-Italian War

The Greek-Italian War was declared on 28 October 1940. At that time the KKE’s Secretary, Zachariades, was imprisoned in Aegina. He showed his real character at this critical moment. He had no principles. He instructed his comrade Michailides to sign a declaration of repentance in order to get out of the prison and rebuild the Communist Party. Michailides left prison and became an agent of Maniadakis. He set up a temporary party committee with two or three others, and published the supposedly-illegal Rizospastis. Behind all this stood Tyrimos and Manoleas, former members of parliament who had become agents of the Security Police. Now Zachariades knew all about this, but he preferred to have a party led by police agents than nothing at all. He produced a declaration on 31 October 1940 which read:

The Greek people are fighting a war of national liberation, led by the Metaxas government. We must all do our utmost, without hesitation, to support it. The outcome will be a new, free Greece, free from any foreign imperialist dependence.

Meanwhile, after Siantos had been arrested, an illegal Central Committee had been established at the end of 1939. Its leader was Papagiannis and its members were Ktistakis, Karvounis and Kenakis. They published an illegal Rizospastis, of which very few copies appeared. Zachariades” declaration, however, was widely broadcast, unlike any other party material, because it was very useful to the government. By now we had two Communist Parties, each of which were accusing one another of being police agents.

There were 185 Stalinists in Neokastro. Half of them supported the temporary committee of Michailides and Zachariades, whilst the others remained loyal to the committee of Ktistakis and Papagiannis. They faced a real dilemma: was it an anti-Fascist war of national liberation or was it an imperialist war? If it was an anti-Fascist war, then how could they surrender to one dictator in order to fight another, Mussolini?

The Stalinists in Acronauplia prepared a memorandum for Maniadakis, asking him to release them for military service. All the Stalinists were asked to sign it, which they did. At the end of January 1941 General Ageletos was sent to Acronauplia by Metaxas to discuss with the group’s leadership. After hearing them, the general assured them that he would ask for their release and despatch to the front. “I wish Russia would help us”, he added. But nobody was released, not even Zachariades, who after this changed his position, saying that the war was no longer defensive because the Greek army had crossed the border, and that it could no longer be called an anti-Fascist war.

Everybody in Neokastro was celebrating the victory of the Greek army, except we four Trotskyists, who kept our minds on the revolutionary Socialist way out of the war. We were not pinning our hopes on the victory of Greek capitalism or of the imperialist western Allies, but only of the Soviet Union, the only workers’ state. We believed that a genuine victory could only emerge from a revolutionary struggle against the war, which would bring lasting peace and real social liberation.

We were in Neokastro when we heard the news of Trotsky’s death. We all gathered on 22 August 1940 in a room to read the newspaper. It was the most dramatic day of our lives. Trotsky was murdered by Ramon Mercader, alias Jacques Mornard or Frank Jacson. He had gained admission to Trotsky’s house by posing as one of us, and had given him the deadly blow to the head. We were astonished and shocked. I do not know if our eyes were full of tears, but Bolsheviks have learned not to cry. We heard some people laughing, and we saw others smiling. Others had a look of triumph about them, like a wild beast that has just torn its prey to pieces. We felt that the eyes of all the Stalinists were upon us.

After reading the newspaper, we walked up and down the yard in silence. We had many thoughts in our minds. How was it possible? How did the murderer get in? How could the victor of October and the Civil War lose the battle? What effect would it have on our movement? At that moment we did not think that Trotsky’s murder would mark the beginning of another great slaughter of the Trotskyists in Siberia, Greece, Indochina and China.

On 29 January 1941 we left our cells and saw the Greek flag flying above the administration offices. What could it mean? We were told that Metaxas was dead. That at least was one dictator less. The Metaxas dictatorship was over, but the covert royal dictatorship remained. This could only be overthrown by a workers’ revolution.
 

8. The Germans Arrive – Stalinist Treachery

The situation changed dramatically when the Germans invaded. Gone were the triumphal descriptions of successes in Albania. The front line in Albania collapsed, and the victors were vanquished. The army was demoralised, and hungry and bare-footed soldiers took the road of retreat. The government could not provide protection or help because it no longer existed. The country was in a state of chaos. The fear of death infected the entire population. Hitler had destroyed the pride and courage of those who had until lately been the victors. Even the bravest of them were confused and did not know how to face the enemy. The German tanks and Stukas terrified everybody.

At that time we were in Neokastro. About 200 Stalinists and Trotskyists were crammed into tomb-like cells. We were told to prepare ourselves – but for what? And where were we to go? The Germans were approaching, and they would conquer everything. Then, as there were not now enough guards to mind us, the authorities decided to close Neokastro camp. We were brought back to Acronauplia, even those of us condemned to death, travelling in two groups as there were not sufficient guards to mind us in one group.

I swear that none of the 200 prisoners were afraid. We were all accustomed to the threats of the reactionaries, and we had not been broken. We had faced the Italian bombs without fear. We were all very moved when we left Neokastro. We did not speak at all. We had until then considered it as our home, terrible as it was. We had spent bitter times in it, and yet there had been dramatic and beautiful times as well. We had survived the war there and witnessed its horrors. We had learnt there that the dictator Metaxas had at last died. We had fun when the Stalinists pleaded with the government to release them so that they could fight the Germans and defend their country. We had put our lives in great danger when we proclaimed ourselves against the war. And it was there where we heard the terrible news that Trotsky had been assassinated. That made Neokastro unforgettable, the worst news that we heard during those hard times.

Maniadakis had ordered the dispersal of Neokastro camp, and that all the prisoners at Neokastro and Acronauplia be handed over to the Germans. He then made his own escape. We were ordered to move. We Trotskyists, who were in the first group, were to go to Kalamata by bus, and then by train to Acronauplia. Our journey went smoothly, but the other group stayed until night in Kalamata as the trains could only move under the cover of darkness, due to the bombing. But Argos was bombed, and all the prisoners, guards and other people sought shelter in the fields. Antonatos wrote:

On our way we removed our handcuffs. The gendarmes and their officer watched us, but they were so confused that they didn’t know what to do. Once the raid was over we surrendered to the gendarmes, who handcuffed us again and took us to Acronauplia.

Mamalakis, who was also in Neokastro, was asked by Manousakas: “Why have you come to this hell?” He replied: “We have come here to continue the struggle against you!” Koligiannis and Zisis Zisimatos, who were the leaders, had refused a request by their comrades to sanction an escape attempt. “No”, they said, “we shall go to Acronauplia first, and then decide what to do.” They were like sheep to the slaughter. Ioannides approved this treason.

In the meantime, we were discussing how we could attempt to escape. Such thoughts were on everyone’s minds. But the wise leaders recommended that we, the mere rank and file, should not discuss it, such things should be left to the leaders. But they did not raise the matter. “Why didn’t you escape?”, asked Papadakis of his comrade Manousaka, “Who told you not to escape?”

The gates were half open, there weren’t many guards, just the commanding officer and 10 gendarmes, and the gendarmes were indifferent. They just wanted to go home. There was a threat that if anyone left he would be killed at once. But all the Stalinists knew that was an idle threat, they all knew that an escape would be dead easy. Yianigonas wrote: “We could have escaped without facing any resistance, and we would have saved so many lives.”

We Trotskyists were more isolated than ever from the Stalinists, and we were unaware of their confusion. We did not know that some of them were of the opinion that they should escape. Manousakas refers to 10 Cretans who wanted to escape. Certain Stalinist leaders, Siganos, Soukatzidis, Chitilos, Karadonis and Mariakakis, to name some of them, also held this opinion. But Koligiannis instructed his men to stay put. And they did! What a shameful obedience to party discipline and the laws of the government.

The respect shown by Ioannides and Koligiannis for the law and the camp commander drove to the point of madness those Stalinists who wanted to escape. But, because of the Hitler-Stalin Pact, the Stalinist leaders were under the illusion that the Germans would not be hostile to them. They justified that wicked alliance in the same way that they had previously justified equally wicked alliances with imperialists against Hitler. They thought that the Germans would play fair with Stalin and, therefore, themselves, and at the worst would not execute them even if they did not let them free. They believed the “poor countries” such as Germany and Italy to be in the right against the other imperialist countries of Western Europe. They even believed at that time that Hitler’s nationalism was some kind of Socialism!

And so they waited for the Germans to come, explaining that “if we got out of here, the British who are still in Nauplia would arrest us”. Manousakas wrote in his Acronauplia: Tales and Reality:

There were others who took seriously the rumours which the committee of the party deliberately spread that the Germans were a highly civilised people and would treat us in a civilised manner. We were left to suspect that the agreement of Hitler with Stalin would become an alliance. I think the party leadership was responsible for this incorrect and immoral view. Unfortunately, we paid for that with the massacre of hundreds of prisoners, and we also lost the possibility of gaining the control of the government.

The frontier collapsed and the German tanks drove forward. The Stukas maintained an ever-increasing attack on Acronauplia. Many of the soldiers with their officers and the politicians were embarking at Anapli during the night to set sail for Crete or Cairo. A large number of British troops were killed as they embarked. A ship containing 400 tons of nitro-glycerine as well as soldiers was attacked by Stukas, and it exploded after the troops had escaped. The explosion rocked Acronauplia like an earthquake, and iron debris rained down on our building. Two troopships were sunk, and the beautiful harbour that we had enjoyed looking at became a sea of floating corpses. The Stukas kept up their attack, striking at a large beached ship until they realised that they could not sink it. We lived amongst all the horrors of war until the Germans finally took Nauplia.

We sheltered during the raids in a ditch which we had dug. By now there were over 560 prisoners, perhaps 600 in all. We and about a further 600 were all that remained of the Communists, both young and old, who had not submitted to dictator Metaxas. Amongst them were the tested militants who had fought for Communism for 20, 30 or more years, and who had been in prison or exile for many years. They had suffered persecution and torture. They had made many sacrifices for Communism, they had experienced the first awakening of the proletariat and its first struggles and revolts. And they were fearless.

Acronauplia had become a legend, a bastion of Communism, and a symbol for the struggles in the future. But the prisoners of Acronauplia, who had inspired people and who had suffered so much under the dictatorship, were betrayed by their unworthy leadership. The truth is that Stalinism destroyed them because its supporters submitted to a corrupt leadership.

The prison guards were in a complete state of panic during the bombing. They hid in their shelters, more interested in their families than in us. Nobody knew what would happen to us under the Fascists. During one raid, and while the Nazis passed through the Isthmus and took the Peloponnesus, we were in our shelter when we heard a voice in a sudden silence. It was Pouliopoulos. He spoke calmly and steadily:

We must decide here and now how we are going to escape. The guards are in a terrible panic and so disorganised that we can surely escape. Otherwise they will deliver us up to the Nazis.

His authority was impressive. So spoke the former Secretary of the Communist Party. His proposition went to the depths of our souls. Not a whisper could be heard. We were all waiting for the Stalinist leaders to speak.

I took the opportunity to speak. It was dark but they recognised my voice. I had always spoken as the representative of the Trotskyists. I had always lashed the Stalinists during the discussions, although they had only ever given me four minutes in which to speak. But they respected me. I was in my fifth year of imprisonment in the concentration camps of Acronauplia and Neokastro, and during those five years they had learned to respect me as a leading revolutionary. I said loudly:

We must decide to escape without hesitation. That is our revolutionary duty. Great struggles lie ahead of us. Our success will be certain, and it will cost us no blood at all. Don’t forget that the gendarmes just want to go home. We must be daring.

There was complete silence for a while. The Stalinist leader Theos not only refused to consider our proposal, but attacked us. “Your proposition is a provocation. It is intended to put the collective in danger.” He told us that the commanding officer had given his word that he would not deliver us to the Germans, and that as soon as the British departed, he would set us free. The proposal to escape was a provocation! That was an ugly accusation, a slander against the efforts we had made for the safety of the lives of hundreds of class fighters, the finest members of the workers’ movement.

If we had decided to escape, there is no doubt that we would have succeeded. The gates leading to the camp commander’s office and the outside were almost always ajar as the trusties like Arabatzis and Archibasilis regularly went shopping with small or large groups. We could have quickly disarmed the guards, and if they had resisted, we could have seized the two machine-guns which stood in the corner of the office. There were 600 of us, and there were several guards who told us to escape because they wanted to come with us. Our escape would have been successful.

Had the followers of Theos and Ioannides not capitulated to them and not believed the words of that Greek officer, who was one of Maniadakis’ narks, we all could have escaped without any blood being spilt at all. Some of them had been won over to our idea. Giannogonas wrote much later that they had planned an escape based on what we had said, but that Ioannides had cancelled it at the last moment. Moreover, Manousakas had said that there were some gendarmes from Crete in Nauplia who would help us to escape. But instead of sending Manousakas to Nauplia to arrange this with them, Ioannides sent Archibasilis, whom the gendarmes did not know and therefore would not trust.

In the meantime the Stalinists had posted their own guards over the gates in order to prevent both ourselves and their own members from escaping. Escaping was “provocative” because this would put our “freedom” in jeopardy and reverse our “gains”. Our “freedom” and “gains” in the concentration camp!

Now was the opportunity for all of us to escape. But as soon as the old guards were paralysed we had new guards, and they were Stalinists, exactly like Zachariades. The Stalinist leaders Ioannides and Theos had thwarted our plan to escape. But how could this have happened? The reason is that they had fatal illusions in Stalin’s allies, the Nazis, that they would treat us as if we were their allies as well. Their worship of Stalin created their illusions in Hitler. I remember trying to explain in vain to a Stalinist worker, who shared my cell, that Hitler would become a super-Wrangel against the Soviet Union, as Trotsky had foretold. The crimes of the Stalinists in Acronauplia had their roots in the general policy of the Kremlin.
 

9. The Assassination of Pouliopoulos

On 6 June the Italian Fascists executed on the hills of Kournovo 118 militants, and among them were the Trotskyists Pouliopoulos, Xipolitos, Giannakos and Makris, as well as the Trotskyist Archeiomarxist Lambropoulos.

We were all deeply shocked. We had felt the same blow when, in the camp at Neokastro, we heard of Trotsky’s assassination. A cloud of death covered Kournos, and we cursed long and loudly.

By this time we were imprisoned in the camp at Larissa, which had been transformed into a fortress, with six lines of barbed wire, a watch tower every 15 or 20 yards and a light machine gun in each watch tower. There were more than 3000 inmates. When the Trikkala concentration camp was closed out of fear of local resistance, the prisoners were moved to Larissa. The camp was guarded by Italian soldiers.

The Stalinists who, under the leadership of Ioannides, had refused to escape from Acronauplia, were brought to Larissa. Their secretary was Koulambas. Among them were Siantos, Partsalides, Apostolou, Grigoratos, Ikonomides and some others. They were in the central block, but not, of course, with the common prisoners.

In isolation in the lower part of the hut were our people, together with a dozen Stalinists who had been isolated by the others and had joined the Trotskyist and Archeiomarxist collective.

Pouliopoulos had a great influence on the whole camp. He had contacts with all the politically aware prisoners, anti-Fascists, left wing activists, intellectuals and workers. Everyone liked and admired him for his revolutionary spirit, his philosophy and his talents. He inspired confidence in the workers’ revolution and revolutionary future to come. He strengthened the morale of the weak and tired. His greatness impressed everybody. How many times did we hear them say: “What a man that Pouliopoulos is!”

More than ever the Stalinists found themselves isolated from the other prisoners. They tried in vain to isolate our people. Their uncontrolled hatred and malice came to the surface whenever they were criticised by revolutionaries. Their hostility to all our people was a thousand times worse than at Acronauplia. The more Pouliopoulos attacked them for their social patriotism, their collaboration with the western imperialists, their submission to Greek capitalism and all their other betrayals, the more their hate for him grew. Their savagery knew no bounds.

When Thanos Georgiades, the son of G. Georgiades, the old leader of the Socialist Party, arrived in the camp, Siantos gave him his top bunk while he took the bottom one, but he said to him: “Above all don’t go near that Pouliopoulos.” Partsalides too said to him: “Follow your father’s heart but not his head.”

When Georgiades had gone to defend Pouliopoulos, who was facing the death penalty for treason at the trial of the autonomists, he had been a “Social-Fascist” as far as the KKE was concerned. When Georgiades’ daughter, sent by her father, visited Pouliopoulos in hospital, he said to her:

“Your father saved my life when he defended me at the court-martial during the dictatorship of Pangalos. Tell him that I thank him!” And now in the concentration camp, Thanos Georgiades, whom I knew as a convinced Socialist close to Trotskyism, is not allowed to go near Pouliopoulos.

Nikos Simos, a long-standing Archeiomarxist and Trotskyist, had been arrested on 6 January 1943. He had been denounced as a Trotskyist to the Piatsa commando. He was questioned and tortured but they had no proof. They continued because he refused to sign a declaration denouncing Communism. They took him to prison at Calithea. There he met Thanos Georgiades. Three months later he was taken to the camp at Larissa. Nikos was known and loved by all. The Stalinists knew him very well. They feared him. The Trotskyists knew him under the name ‘The Cook’. He was honoured for his fidelity to our ideas and his bravery.

The Stalinists refused to admit him into their area when the police had taken him there. Koulambas, the Secretary of the Stalinist group, said to him: “You cannot join us until you state that you will not speak to Pouliopoulos.” Simos refused, and he was eventually taken from the common criminal section, where he had originally been put, to the Trotskyist and Archeiomarxist collective. Pouliopoulos welcomed Simos there. He knew him from the famous trial of Communists after the prison mutiny of Assos. Simos slept next to Pouliopoulos. There were 34 Stalinist and Trotskyist prisoners, among whom were Pouliopoulos, Giannakos, Xipolitos, Simos, L. Chimaras, E. Petsis, Belosimbassis and others.

The Assos prisoners had mutinied and refused to work in the fields. The prison commandant had accepted this at first, but later cut off all their communication with the outside world, letters, visits, etc, and had built a wall to isolate them from the criminal prisoners. He summoned and arrested the secretary of the collective. The prisoners rushed the commandant’s offices. They were fired on. Bratsos was arrested and tied to a tree. In reply the Communists seized a policeman and demanded the release of Bratsos. Reinforcements were sent from all over Cephalonia, and they attacked. They fired on the prisoners, who fought back with their bare hands. Simos was wounded in the hand. The Stalinists Papavasiliou, Petros, Bavos and Armenis were also wounded. Eventually the rioters were dispersed, and the wounded taken to the hospital at Argostoli.

At the trial following the Assos affair, Pouliopoulos, the lawyer of the detained mutineers, together with the Stalinist barristers Porphyrogenis and Miliaresis, put forward a formidable defence. Pouliopoulos shocked the whole public and even the judges with a submission which lasted for two hours.

When the prison at Trikkala was closed, all the prisoners were taken to Larissa. Among them were G. Makris, C. Soulas, G. Krokas, Spaneas, C. Hadgichristos, E. Petsis and Socrates, and all those who had not escaped from Evia with Pouliopoulos such as Giannakos and Xipolitos.

Our people were very effective in carrying out agitation and propaganda work among the 3000 prisoners. Every evening long talks and discussions took place, and Pouliopoulos impressed everyone with his knowledge. Every day the police brought between 200 and 300 prisoners back and forth to work on the aerodrome, Pouliopoulos and Giannakos as intellectuals were not so strong, but worked hard. They dug and piled up the earth next to me. As much as I was able, I helped them to rest. It was the same with Hadjichristos, Soulas, Makris, Petsis and even Krokas, as they were strong working men. They managed well despite all they had suffered in prison and exile. The guards kept us under constant surveillance, so nobody could avoid working by slacking.

During our work we argued softly with the Stalinists, unlike inside the camp where we could not speak. Their bosses were bothered if we even greeted each other. Every evening when they spoke with each other they came to blows. They wished to weaken those who rebelled against their reign of terror.

The Italians often amused themselves with songs and music at a nearby tavern, and brought prostitutes there. If there were no Germans with them they would have been helpless. Among the prisoners were five or six Englishmen. They escaped by bribing the Italians to get their German colleagues drunk.

A riot of all the prisoners, Stalinists and ourselves, took place. We beat up the Vlachs, who were the camp informers and who did a lot of harm to everyone. The guards called us to a general parade. They put us in line and the Italian commandant walked along it with a Vlach to identify which one of us had beaten him up. He pointed out a Piraeus cobbler and two others. They were violently beaten and taken away as if dead, the cobbler to the hospital. Afterwards they were put in solitary.

One night at half past one in the morning we heard screams and sobbing outside the camp, waking us all. Pouliopoulos managed to discover what was happening. Two trucks of Italians had brought in 200 children of between eight and 12 years old. Some had fainted, others were dumb with fear, and others wept and cried. In revenge for the killing of three of their soldiers by the resistance, the Italians had attacked the three neighbouring villages, and had killed everyone they found and then burnt the bodies. They had seized the children, terrified at the massacre of their parents, and had brought them to the camp by truck.

Pantelis was overcome when heard this, and exploded: “The brutes! The murderers!” He then turned on the Stalinists: “The filthy maquis!” It was a really bad method of struggle. The maquis killed three soldiers and the Fascists massacred and burnt three villages, and hundreds of children were orphaned. There was not a single act of fraternisation between the soldiers of the two sides against their officers, such as Leninist principles demanded. This was clearly as much a crime by the leadership of the social patriotic maquis as that of the Fascists.

The Trotskyists condemned the policy of unjustified sabotage and assassination of German and Italian soldiers to assist the war effort and the victory of the imperialist Allies, even when this was done on the pretext of helping the USSR, because this tactic led to a confrontation between the local workers and the German and Italian soldiers, deepened the gulf between them, destroyed internationalist perceptions, pushed the German and Italian soldiers towards the Fascists, and laid the basis for the destruction of the Greek, German, Italian and world revolutions. The tactic of sabotage is acceptable when it is included in a strategy of working class revolution by the masses, but sabotage in the service of the capitalist war has nothing to do with revolution.

The Stalinists did not worry about this sort of problem. But what about the 3000 prisoners who were in danger of being condemned to death if a train was sabotaged or another incident took place?

In June another event took place which aroused the anger of Pouliopoulos, and led to the catastrophe of Nezero. The local maquis learned that on the afternoon of 3 June 1943, a train loaded with Italian war material would be travelling by. They mined the line at St Stephen’s cutting to cause a landslip and block the line.

On the train there were 1500 soldiers who did not know that the wagons were full of munitions. They were facing certain death, not just because of the saboteurs’ charge, but because of the explosion which it would set off.

On 3 June at 5pm, the train entered the cutting. Shortly after a tremendous explosion occurred. It was hellfire. The wagons were blown to pieces, human bodies were broken into flesh and blood, and there were cries of pain for help. There were 600 dead and a great many wounded.

We were intensely depressed when we learnt of the sabotage. The Fascists had already compiled and publicised in the press a list of prisoners who would be executed if there was sabotage on the railway.

The news of the sabotage was a death sentence for the prisoners in the camp. The comrades on this list prepared for their execution, wrote their last letters to their dear ones and embraced their friends. Their last salute to life was without fear or tears.

Next day, 4 June, nothing happened, but the mood in the camp was sombre. The shadow of death hung over every head. On 5 June the police arrived with a dozen lorries. The atmosphere was tense. The condemned thought this was the end.

They called the morning parade very early. The commandant ordered the prisoners to stand in line outside their huts. There was a deathly silence and he started to read out the list. But the names were different. Not one of the names on the original list was called.

An article, A great and tragic anniversary appeared in the local paper Larissa on 26 June 1979. It stated:

The prisoners were ordered to their places outside their huts in the camp and there the commandant started to read out, not the names of those on the list, but other ones. What had taken place? How and who had changed the list? Was the change the result of some evil influence?

Hopes rose. Perhaps they were not going to be executed. They collected their belongings. They shook the hands of their comrades, climbed into the lorries and left. For where?

They returned to the camp that evening, feeling relieved. What had happened? Read the explanation in Larissa on 25 June 1979 ...

How were the names on the first list changed, the Trotskyist leaders entered and the KKE leaders omitted? The leaders of the EAM have forgotten this question in the same way as they forget the great massacre of Trotskyists on the eve of the revolution, when we found ourselves in the front line of the barricades with the rebellious masses against the murderous attack of Papandreou and Scobie, when the activists of ELAS took to us to the OPLA and Peoples” Militia firing squads. [6]

For a long time nothing was learned as to why the names on the execution list were changed. Then Felicia Pouliopoulos, the widow of Pantelis, brought the crime carried out against our comrades at Larissa concentration camp by the Stalinists out of the shadows.

Among the Stalinist leaders there was Zographos, a would-be intellectual cadre, a veteran ‘Trot-basher’ from Acronauplia. After the betrayal of Pouliopoulos he bribed the Italians responsible with party gold in order to include Pouliopoulos and any others of our comrades on the lists for future executions. It is quite possible that this horrible act was carried out by the interpreter who, according to Simos, was one of the most disgusting people he had ever encountered.

Felicia Pouliopoulos subsequently split from the Athanassiadis tendency and defected to the Stalinists with Dimitrakareas. What had she learnt, before or after she had joined the Stalinists? We heard this from a relative of Pouliopoulos. Felicia will not tell me any more details. She may not, of course, agree with what happened then, or perhaps she has been threatened with expulsion if she told us what happened.

But returning to the prisoners at Larissa, not all shared the optimism of their comrades even though a guard said to one of them as they climbed down from the lorries: “You are in luck! Do you know where we were taking you?” “No’, replied Pouliopoulos who spoke Italian.

“To Kournovo – for execution!” “Why then, what has happened?”

“It seems that the execution has been cancelled.”

But it was not. The execution had only been delayed because of information that the maquis were intending to free them. From Athens came the order to execute them the next day. On the night of 5-6 June nobody was able to sleep. Simos tells us movingly:

Lying by Pouliopoulos’ side I felt the need to say a few comforting words to him, even though he did not seem upset. “Perhaps you are going to be transferred to another prison.” “Stop it Nikos”, interrupted Pantelis, “I have heard it with my own ears that they are going to execute me.”

Simos stopped and burst into tears. That is what the interviewer and the wife of Simos Vassiladiotis heard. When he stopped Nikos continued:

Yes it was true. Pantelis knew it. He had heard two policemen discussing among themselves saying, “Ah, if this execution didn’t go ahead, we would have a party with a roast lamb.” Perhaps they were not anti-Fascist but simply human. Another time Pantelis said to me: “Bad luck Nikos, I won’t be able to go on arguing about Archeiomarxism, as I hoped.”

We did not know how Archeiomarxism had evolved of late as a consequence of events. Since Acronauplia they had had a new experience by collaborating of our tendency, the New Course in the EOKDE, while the tendency of Pouliopoulos had evolved in two different and opposite directions.

This conversation shows that Pouliopoulos was concerned with the problems of our struggle right to the end.

At dawn on 6 June the klaxon sounded. They called out those on the list. It was the last “Present” in their life, and the first in eternity.

The lorries returned, but there was a delay in the order to depart. They waited until midday. This was the worst sort of torture experienced by all those who had been held in the police jails. The agony was felt not just by the 150, but by all 3,000 prisoners.

At last the time came. The order to go was finally given. In the dormitories the heroes of Nezero embraced all their friends one after the other: “My love to the children”, “Have a good Liberation.”

The scenes of the departure were dramatic. They did not have the cheerful character of normal transfers between prisons and exile. It was extraordinarily sad. But there was one peculiar thing. The expressions of all showed something of revolutionary purity and greatness. Stalinists and Trotskyists marched as one, proudly and without fear.

“When those about to die came to Kournovo”, wrote Olympios in Larissa, “they were lined up by the side of a little hill facing the machine guns. Before the execution started Pouliopoulos shouted out in Italian: ‘You have learnt to scorn death while we scorn life!’”

An Italian anti-Fascist from the Pinerolo Cavalry Brigade who after the fall of Italy went over to ELAS with his men and 8,000 horses, described the execution to the leading ELAS people at the their officers” school:

Pouliopoulos had a hero’s attitude. He said in Italian: “In killing us you kill yourselves – you are fighting against the idea of the Socialist revolution.”

The scene of the execution was not a drama but a Golgotha, different from the hundreds of executions of the National Resistance.

Pouliopoulos gave a message to the Italian soldiers, a message of brotherhood to all the soldiers of the earth, whether white, black or yellow, above frontiers and parties. A message of revolution against the hell of capitalist war. His appeal was the correct appeal of a war against war. He wanted to bring down the high and mighty, to raise the oppressed peoples against imperialism, and to raise Siberia against the Kremlin.

It was a clarion call in the spirit of the Russian October – peace to the peoples, world revolution, down with all the despots of the globe – and all in a few firm words before the order to fire.

At Nezero Pouliopoulos wrote an eternal message with his blood, like that of the Chicago martyrs or the Communards of Paris, shot by the ‘democracy’ of Thiers.

He has taken his place at the tribune of the world revolution. His appeal was a call to struggle. He saw the soldiers not as assassins but as his brothers. The real executioners and assassins were in the general staffs, and not just in those of Hitler but in those of Churchill and Roosevelt.

I remember when the Germans came to Acronauplia and calmly looked at us behind the bars, without any dislike, Pouliopoulos said: “What pleasant blond faces.” They were all young. Hitler had called up deskrows of schoolkids to send to the front.

It took at least five minutes to execute them all. Pantelis did not go down until the last second. He had heard that there were Italians who would celebrate with a roast lamb if the execution did not take place, and he aimed his words at their hearts and consciences. He was hopeful, and in no unrealistic way, for from June to September, when Mussolini was overthrown, the Italians fraternised, and anti-Fascism conquered the whole of Italy.

“Brothers ... “, Pantelis spoke slowly. The emotion of the speaker was palpable. He spoke to his friends on the other side. Our Socialism has taught us to extend our hand to our comrades against all class enemies.

We can imagine the dramatic scene. Rumours about it immediately reached the camp. The soldiers and the condemned turned to Pouliopoulos. His eyes burned. The lives of 106 hung by a thread. Pouliopoulos’ words were their only chance.

There was dead silence after his speech. If one soldier threw down his gun all would do so. The order to fire was given, but nobody raised his gun. They were too overcome. The Fascist at their head took out his pistol and shot Pouliopoulos dead. So a huge tree was felled.

The other comrades of ours, Xipolitos, Makris, Giannakos and Lambropoulos fell dead by his side, and all passed away to eternity.

The Fascist animal in charge ordered the firing squad to leave immediately as if the victims were chasing them. The bodies lay where they had fallen. After 36 hours the peasants of St Stephanos came and buried them in a common grave.

On 6 June, between two and three in the afternoon, the mother of Pouliopoulos was awakened by a nightmare in which a king said to her: “Do you know what they have done? Do you know where to find your baby?” The mother of Giannakos at the same moment saw an evzone pull a knife out of his belt and thrust it into his chest. In this way the tragedy of Nezero was told to the mothers.

The tragedy of Nezero hung over the camp at Larissa lived until it was closed. On 7 September 1943 Italy signed an armistice, Badoglio took power, and Benito Mussolini, the ex-Socialist, while in Italy the workers prepared for power and seized their factories. The Italians at Larissa camp were just happy to go home.

The Germans had no confidence in them, and took over the camp. They started interrogations to discover the Communists who had survived Nezero. They released all those whom they could not prove were Communists. Thus Petsis and Spaneas were released. Simos was kept as a possible Jew. Petsis had to go to Athens and get his papers.

All those from Acronauplia, Stalinists and Trotskyists alike, and including Hadjichristos, H. Soulas and G. Krokas, were transferred to Haidari. There they suffered another agony which finished with the historic executions of 1 May 1944 at Kaisariani.

Simos stayed with about 60 others. He was kept for work in the interior after the others had been released, until his papers arrived. He was captured on 7 January 1943 and released 11 or 12 months later.

Finishing his story, Simos added in tears that among the clothes from the Red Cross given to the prisoners, he had been given a blanket marked PP. It was indeed the blanket of Pouliopoulos.

Loukas Karliaftis

Notes

3. L.D. Trotsky, On the Eve of World War II, Writings of Leon Trotsky 1939-40, New York 1977, p.20.

4. L.D. Trotsky, Manifesto of the Fourth International on the Imperialist War and the World Proletarian Revolution’, Writings of Leon Trotsky 1939-40, New York 1977, p.222.

5. J.P. Cannon, A Statement on the US Entry into World War II, The Socialist Workers Party in World War II, New York 1987, p.209.

6. We have learned that Barjotas, a GPU agent, gave orders at a meeting in his headquarters to kill any oppositionist on the spot. During the events of December he was heard to say that he went round like a mad dog, pistol in hand, ready to ‘bite’ any revolutionaries who came out into the street following Lenin’s strategy of turning the imperialist war into a civil war. In the end he gave a record to the GPU of the hundreds of Trotskyists and oppositionists that he had liquidated.

For our part, we faced their jails or interrogations, those inquisitions of frightful tortures, and the executions at the hands of these savages, in order to try to save our people from their hands, or to learn whether they were dead or alive.

We looked for months to discover the fate of our comrades. Sometimes we only found their graves. The brother of Mimis Belias, for example, opened a mass grave by the Vyon stream. There, thanks to things he knew and clothes which had not rotted away, he recognised the decomposed body of his brother Mimis. He lifted it up and held it in his arms so that the rotten flesh and earth stuck to him. He burst into tears and had a breakdown, and afterwards he became chronically depressed. Mimis Belias was arrested by the OPLA on 12 December 1944. His corpse had a broken arm and three gold teeth missing. There were hundreds of such murders, and hundreds of such stories.

Thus these most dishonourable and the most counter-revolutionary atrocities against us came to light. These crimes were a blow against the proletarian revolution