MORE POLICE HARASSMENT

For one to be found just carrying Bible literature was enough to bring arrest during the years of harassment. For instance, in Madrid four pioneers coming out of a sister’s house were picked up by the Guardia Civil and were taken to the local police station. The pioneers had not preached in that neighborhood that day, but someone had seen them enter that house and had denounced them for distributing anti-Catholic propaganda. The police sergeant said that the fact that they were carrying this literature in his district meant that he had to report the case to the General Security Bureau.

In another instance, a pioneer who went to the railway station to inquire about train schedules was asked by a policeman to present his identity card. When he could not produce it, his briefcase was searched and Bible literature was found. For this “offense” he was fined 500 pesetas or a month in prison. He chose the month in prison.

On other occasions the persecution clearly was from religious enemies, as was the case with Carlos Rubiño, an eighteen-year-old pioneer who was seriously ill with a heart ailment. In the hospital the nuns were constantly pestering him to confess and take Communion. The priest brought along an image and said: “You are dying. Your only hope is to kiss it, confess to me and receive the last rites.” Although he could speak only in a whisper, Carlos refused and asked the priest to show him where this procedure was commanded in the Bible. Angrily, the priest turned to Carlos’ mother and asked: “What kind of religion is this?” She, although not a Witness, quickly answered: “The Bible religion.” At that, the priest stalked out, instructing the nuns to burn the Bible that Carlos had, which happened to be a Catholic Nácar-Colunga Version! Instead, the mother hid it and took it home. She had seen enough of false religion’s fruitage!

Yes, Carlos died, but he had been faithful to his convictions. The next problem arose when his parents arranged for a civil burial. As a result the father was obliged to give up his job as a government employee and was also put out of his house. In later years, both the mother and the father accepted the truth, and their other two sons have continued serving Jehovah faithfully. The younger one, Ricardo Rubiño, spent six years in prison for maintaining his Christian integrity.

Harassment of the brothers and sisters included such things as their not being granted passports, needed so that they could attend Christian assemblies in France or Morocco. Literally scores of Witnesses were not able to travel to such assemblies because they were listed in the police records as Jehovah’s Witnesses. To this day, young unmarried sisters over sixteen years of age cannot get a passport unless they attend social service courses for three months. These courses require nightly attendance and have included political and religious instruction, as well as social service activities in hospitals and similar institutions.

MISSIONARIES ORDERED TO LEAVE

Ever since the events of September 1955 and the abortive Tibidabo assembly of hundreds, Alvaro Berecochea had feared that the police would take action to expel him and his wife, Marina, from the country. A test of the situation occurred in the summer of 1956 when Marina was invited to London for a two-week vacation. Because she had residence in Spain, she had to request an exit visa from the police headquarters in Barcelona.

After a two-hour wait, a plainclothes policeman came up to her and asked why she wanted to go to London. She explained. Then came a barrage of questions, as he said: “Do you believe in that religion of your husband? You know what happened in Tibidabo . . . Are you of that religion? Do you believe in those Bible fables? Do you believe that Elijah made fire come down from heaven?” She answered, “Yes.” “Look,” he replied, “what really happened was that Elijah was a wise guy, and all he did was slyly fill the trench with petrol and then set it alight. Only idiots believe that it was a miracle.” And so the conversation continued. At the end, the policeman pointed to a file and said: “In there we have information about your husband that goes against you as well.” In spite of all of this, however, Marina was granted permission to go to London.

In January 1957 the Berecocheas had to present themselves at police headquarters to request the renewal of their two-year residence permit. After a long wait, they were called into an office and told that they had forty-eight hours to arrange their affairs and get out of the country. Alvaro protested vigorously, but all to no avail. They obtained one concession​—they would have ten days instead of two.

Faced with this emergency, Alvaro left the branch office matters in the hands of Ken Williams. Then, the Berecocheas set off for Madrid by train. Hundreds of brothers were at the station to see them off, and for all it was a sad occasion. Once in Madrid, Alvaro went to the Argentine Embassy (for he was an Argentinean) and explained his situation. Due to the Embassy’s intervention, the Spanish authorities granted him a month’s extension and the deadline then was February 18. Having obtained a visa to go to Portugal, he made arrangements to take one of the Society’s motion pictures around the north of Spain.

Upon arriving back in Madrid, Brother Berecochea found a letter assigning him to go to Morocco instead of Portugal. This meant that he would have to go back to the police and request a different exit visa. Instead of going to the person in charge of exit visas, with whom he had spoken at length on a previous occasion, Brother Berecochea went to the normal dispatch counter, explained his need and was told to return the next day. Upon returning, he found that his visa had been extended by another month. The police office organization certainly was not infallible! Now the deadline for leaving the country was March 18. Not one to waste time, Brother Berecochea made arrangements to show the Society’s film in the south and then work his way back to Barcelona.

TRAPPED AND EXPELLED

Upon arrival in Barcelona, Alvaro and Marina booked into a pension and then decided to visit their old lodgings at the home of Teresa Carbonell. They had the key to the door, but before entering they asked Christian sisters who were neighbors if the police had been around lately. “No,” they said. “Things have been quiet.” With that, the Berecocheas went across the hallway to their old apartment, opened the door, and, to their disagreeable surprise, found the police there!

The police wanted to clap handcuffs on the Berecocheas, but they promised not to escape. They were taken to the police headquarters in the Via Layetana and were confronted by a furious police chief. “We gave you forty-eight hours to get out of here,” he thundered, “and two months later you are still here!” Alvaro’s explanations were to no avail.

A call was put through to Madrid and instructions came back that the Berecocheas were to be expelled immediately. Alvaro insisted that it had to be via the Algeciras frontier in order to get to Morocco. So, they were escorted by a secret policeman all the way from Barcelona to Algeciras, a distance of 1,450 kilometers (900 miles). When they were aboard the ship, he gave them back their passports. That was on March 11, 1957.

BACK TO SPAIN!

In Morocco, Alvaro Berecochea served as branch overseer. Some months later he was asked to make a trip to Portugal and Spain. In order to obtain an entry visa, he went to the Spanish Consulate in Vienna, Austria, where it was granted. Now in order to pass through the border, he went by car with his parents through France and entered by Irún. The border police raised no questions, and once again he was in Spain.

Stops were made in Madrid and Barcelona. By December 5, 1957, Alvaro was in Valencia and showed the Society’s film “The Happiness of the New World Society” to a group of twenty-three persons. The following evening, he attended another Christian meeting, and halfway through it there was a violent knocking at the door. When the door was opened, in stepped three members of the secret police with their pistols drawn. After a quick check of their identity cards, the seven brothers were arrested. However, Margarita Comas was allowed to leave with the other sisters, and she immediately went off to hide the film equipment.

The seven brothers were taken to the police station where they were interrogated. When it came to Alvaro’s turn, he was asked if he knew Cooke and Backhouse and others. Since his answers did not satisfy the interrogators, they got angry and threatened to punch him. It was evident, however, that they did not know that he had been expelled previously, and they were taking him for a tourist. At about 3 a.m. the Argentine consul turned up at the police station, and this infuriated the police, although they were careful not to manifest their feelings in front of him. Alvaro was released, with orders to come back the next day to pick up his passport.

When Brother Berecochea returned the following day the situation was grave. They had discovered that he had been expelled in March and they were furious. He was arrested and put in solitary confinement where the bed was of stone and there was only a small barred opening in the door. After a few hours, the guard came, opened the door and took him to a place where there were some packets and blankets on the table. “Your brothers have sent you this,” he was told. Food, blankets and other items had been provided by the Valencia Congregation as a display of its Christian love and concern.

Some time later, Brother Berecochea was subjected to another interrogation. It had been determined that he would be sent out of the country through France, but he asked to go to Portugal. There was agreement on this, but he was told that he would have to wait in prison until they had a pair of civil guards available to accompany him. That idea did not appeal to Alvaro at all. The consul had warned him about persons that went to prison and never were heard of again. So, Brother Berecochea asked to speak to the Argentine consul and was allowed to contact him by phone. Alarmed by the new turn of events, the consul said that he would intervene immediately.

Alvaro was taken back to his cell. But late that night he was advised that he would be getting a plane from Valencia airport the next day. He was released, but was told that he would have to return the next day to pick up his passport.

Immediately, Brother Berecochea went to the brothers and found that they had been fined 1,500 pesetas or thirty days in jail. They had all agreed not to pay the fine, for they had committed no crime.

On the following day, December 9, 1957, Alvaro Berecochea flew to Madrid, and from there to Lisbon, Portugal. Thus ended his Spanish missionary service that had spanned four joyful and blessed years. Now others would have to carry on in directing the work.

PERSECUTION IN PALMA DE MALLORCA

Our activities were being carried on under adverse circumstances, with opposition and religious persecution besetting us on all sides. For instance, in 1954 Brother Paul Baker, who was serving as a missionary in Palma de Mallorca, had his first warning about his religious activities at the school where he was teaching English. One day he was called into the office of the principal, who told him confidentially that the police had been around inquiring about him. They wanted to know if he had been teaching religion in school. The principal had been able to give a good report, since Paul had been tactful and deliberately had not used school hours to bring up the subject of religion. However, Paul was grateful for the warning.

One day in April 1957 Francisco Córdoba, a special pioneer assigned to Palma de Mallorca, failed to appear at the meeting for field service. The brothers thought little of this until he did not show up at the meeting that night. The following day the brothers checked at his lodgings and found that he had not returned the night before. When all other possibilities had been eliminated, it was decided that a sister should go to the police and inquire about him. Sure enough, he had been arrested along with the brother who was preaching with him. Food could be left for them, but they could not be visited.

The time was approaching for the celebration of the Memorial, and the arrangements made for the various groups took into account the possibility that Paul Baker also might not be available, since police action seemed imminent. Well, a day or so later a plainclothes policeman appeared at the pension where Brother Baker was living and escorted him to the police station. There, on more than one occasion, Paul was interrogated and then presented with a typed version of his answers. He was asked to verify the contents and then sign the document of several pages. Having done this, Brother Baker was taken down to the cells and at last found himself with Brother Córdoba and his field service companion. The brothers had to spend the night in the “calaboose,” and the next day they were sent before a judge. Interestingly, however, they were assigned a police guard who took keen interest in the case and asked them many questions.

The hearing did not take place in a courtroom, but rather in the judge’s office, and the brothers were alone with him and the guard. Tactfully, they explained how they carried on their preaching work. The judge found their teachings harmless, but said they had transgressed by participating in proselytism. However, the time already spent in prison had served as an adequate warning to them, he thought, and he would not pass any further sentence, advising them to be more discreet in the future.

The police guard was delighted with the result, but he had to take the brothers back to the prison so that they could pick up their belongings. The guard took them to the officer in charge of the cells and announced their release. However, the other officer muttered that there was something else pending, and they again were put under lock and key.

Some hours later, Paul was taken from the cell to the interrogation room. There he found out what the “something else” was. A parcel had arrived for Paul from Barcelona and it was marked “radio,” but actually contained fifty copies of the latest Watchtower and Awake! magazines in Spanish. So, in addition to the other false charges, Brother Baker now was accused of smuggling!

Paul appealed to reason, asking how this could be contraband if it came from the Spanish mainland and not from another country. Furthermore, he said that there was no law forbidding subscribers to receive their copies, and these were not for public distribution, but for subscribers. Nonetheless, all was in vain. The outcome was another night in prison. As matters turned out, the three Kingdom proclaimers were sent to the Provincial Prison of Palma de Mallorca for fifteen days.

In this prison a new territory was opened up to them. They could mix freely with the other prisoners and thus give a witness. When the Memorial date arrived, their thoughts were with the brothers on the outside. And, when they came out of prison on April 26 there was a little group of brothers and sisters to greet them. These Witnesses had held the Memorial in three groups in spite of the absence of the two qualified brothers, Paul Baker and Francisco Córdoba.

MORE “INVITATIONS TO LEAVE”

Upon returning to the pension, Brother Baker found that all his Spanish, French and English magazines had been taken by the police. The next morning, when he went to breakfast, he noticed a conspicuous stranger drinking coffee nearby. He was a secret policeman sent to watch him.

What happened to the special pioneer, Francisco Córdoba? He was banished from the island and had to return to the Spanish mainland.

On Friday, May 3, 1957, Paul Baker married Jean Smith in the British Consulate in Palma. For their honeymoon, they traveled across the island to Alcudia and then got a boat to Menorca. Wherever they went they always had somebody “shadowing” them. Not the ideal circumstances for a honeymoon!

Toward the end of May, Paul applied for a renewal of his residence permit. After several visits to the police headquarters, he was told that his permit was not going to be renewed and that he should inform them of the date he intended to leave. He booked passage on a boat leaving Barcelona for Gibraltar on June 12.

Even after arriving in Barcelona, Brother and Sister Baker still were being “shadowed” by secret policemen in obvious disguises. For example, they had booked into a hotel on a back street, and the next morning a “sailor” sporting a shirt bearing the name of their ship happened to be lounging across the road. It was obvious that Paul was considered a highly dangerous character. Of course, these events took place shortly after the Berecocheas’ first expulsion, and the police thought they were getting rid of the “leaders.”

When the Bakers got to the dock on their last day in Spain, some brothers from the Barcelona congregations were waiting to say good-bye. On hand, too, were four missionaries who remained in Barcelona​—Brother and Sister Ken Williams and Domenick and Elsa Piccone. Even then, their own days in Spain were numbered and they, too, soon were to be expelled from the country.

By the end of the 1957 service year the number of Gilead School graduates still in Spain had dropped from nine to four. It was considered wise to transfer the “office” from Barcelona to Madrid.

PIONEERS IMPRISONED

The clergy continued to goad their flocks into denouncing to the police any witnesses of Jehovah presenting themselves at their doors. As a result, during the 1957 service year thirteen pioneers and six publishers were arrested and spent from two to thirty-six days in prison for preaching and for associating in their Bible study meetings.

Pioneers were imprisoned in Sevilla, for example. In March 1957, Margarita Comas and Maruja Puñal were assigned to Sevilla, where special pioneers José Rubiño and Manolo Sierra already were working. The informal Andalusian character was hard to get accustomed to, since one would make arrangements for a Bible study or a return visit only to find that the person had made other plans later and was not home. Then, too, it was necessary to deal with the fanatical element. Sevilla is a city given to the worship of “Our Lady,” in the form of two famous “Virgins” or images, la Macarena and the Virgen de la Esperanza. These two images have their followers and believers, like a pair of rival football teams. The zealots of each “Virgin” sing her praises in competition with each other, especially during the procession times when these jewel-laden images are paraded through the streets. In this city, the largest church is the cathedral, which is built on the site of a former Moslem mosque. The tower of the cathedral is called La Giralda (The Weathercock or Vane), and one can clearly see that the first two thirds of the tower was a Moslem minaret, while the top third is of Renaissance style and obviously of Catholic respiration.

The four pioneers in Sevilla followed the routine of meeting each morning in the plaza in front of the famous Torre del Oro (Golden Tower). One day the girls turned up, but the brothers did not make an appearance. The sisters thought this was rather strange, but decided to wait until the afternoon meeting time and then, from a distance, watch to see if the brothers would arrive. But there still was no sign of them. The next day, Margarita and Maruja went to the brothers’ lodgings and discreetly inquired about them. The lady of the house explained how the police had been there two days earlier and had taken the brothers away.

Their suspicions now confirmed, the sisters knew that the police would show up at their lodgings at any moment. So, that day they took the precautionary step of destroying any confidential notes or papers. That night the sisters went back to their lodgings with heavy hearts, and when the landlady opened the door they could tell by her face that they had visitors. Two policemen were waiting for them.

Even though it was night, the sisters were taken to the police station to be interrogated. The brothers already were there and had undergone interrogation for two days. These interrogations were made more difficult by the fact that the Sevilla police had received information from the police in Granada, where José Rubiño formerly had served. The police had photographs taken from the Witnesses in Granada, as well as papers found at the lodgings of the pioneer brothers. During the interrogations, which alternated between the two brothers, the police tried to learn the identity of the responsible brothers and where they were located. José and Manolo were kept in separate cold cells, with a stone bench for a bed, but at first they were not even allowed to sleep, as the interrogations dragged on hour after hour.

Likewise, the sisters had a difficult time during the interrogations. They had to be careful with their responses, since the police tried to put answers into their mouths. For example, when the sisters declared that they were preaching the kingdom or government of God, the interrogator said: “Then you are against all established human government. That is what you mean.” The sisters denied this interpretation of their beliefs, for it was an attempt to put a political slant on the activities of Jehovah’s Witnesses.

After being interrogated, the sisters were put in a very small cell with a drunken woman who was vomiting all the time. The stench was terrible, and it appeared they would have to spend the rest of the night there. But when the hour was quite late, a policeman came along and took them out, saying that he was not going to allow them to spend the night that way. He took them to his office and told them to sleep in the armchairs there until the next morning. The sisters silently gave thanks to Jehovah for this kind jailer and for their release from that awful cell.

The sisters were held for thirty-six hours without food, with one questioning after another, as if they were criminals of the lowest sort. However, another policeman had pity on them and brought them coffee. Finally, both the brothers and the sisters were taken to the provincial prison, there to face new trials.

Upon arriving at the prison, the two pioneer brothers had their heads shaved before being taken to their cell. Then, each day there was the test of integrity during the raising and lowering of the flag.

NUNS AS JAILERS!

The sisters received quite a surprise when they arrived in prison, for the jailers were nuns! At the reception desk, a nun asked them what they had stolen. That was the last straw for Margarita! She exclaimed: “We are not here as prostitutes or thieves! We are here for being witnesses of the true God!” At that, the nun let out a scream of astonishment and quickly withdrew as if the plague had struck.

At this prison, the nuns led the inmates in daily recitals of the ‘Our Father,’ ‘Hail Mary,’ and so forth. During the exercise period, the nuns would tell stories to the prisoners, dance with them and recite the rosary. Margarita and Maruja set about giving a witness, but this soon was cut short by the nuns, who prohibited their speaking to other prisoners.

After their case had been considered, it was decided that the sisters could be freed by paying a bail of 1,000 pesetas each. Since they did not have the money, and there was no one in Sevilla to help them, they spent the month in prison. It was not a pleasant experience, for they were assigned to a large hall with all the other prisoners​—mainly thieves, prostitutes and lesbians. When Maruja and Margarita refused to undress and take a shower in front of the others, they were compelled to pass their time in a punishment cell that was just two meters (6.5 feet) square. It had a hole in the corner that served as a toilet, and a small window in the ceiling. There was no furniture, no bed or chair, and no mattress. Out of sympathy, one of the guards brought them a quart of water with which the two of them could wash.

What about food? It was unpalatable, to say the least. Twice a day the sisters were given garbanzo beans with so much bicarbonate of soda that it made them ill. And each of them was given only one piece of bread a day.

By the end of a month in prison, the four pioneers were able to pay the 1,000 pesetas bail each. Thus they were released, but with the accusations still pending. In actual fact, their case never came to court, and they were able to recover the money they had deposited.

It might be mentioned that the special pioneers got used to being hounded by the police and having to move from one city to another as a consequence. If a special pioneer could not explain his source of income or prove that he had a secular job, the vagrancy law was invoked and he was sent back to his city of origin.

A feature that made our work more of a strain for the foreigners was the need for constant vigilance when working from house to house. If a foreigner was caught, it meant almost certain expulsion from the country. This imposed an extra tension, that of carefully watching the reactions of the householder during a discussion and after giving a witness. When the door was closed, the Witness had to determine whether the phone was used by the householder. Was the door slammed or closed politely? Also, it was necessary to be on the lookout for any neighbors leaving the building in a hurry, possibly going to call the police. Of course, it also was quite important to make sure that there were no police in the neighborhood where a person was preaching. The Bible and our literature had to be carried unobtrusively, perhaps under a raincoat or overcoat in the winter months. In summertime, however, it was not so easy to conceal the publications. So, some publishers even broke up the books into signatures or sections and would only carry the section that was going to be studied at a meeting or during a Bible study.

In 1959 Brother and Sister Taylor, who had moved from England to Spain to serve where the need was great, were assigned as special pioneers to Vigo, a port in northwest Spain. It was thought that since this was an international port, he would not be so noticeable as a foreigner. But it did not take long for the priests to get stirred up and warn their parishioners over the radio about this couple going from door to door. They were easy to identify​—she was Spanish and did most of the talking, and he was a foreigner.

Before long the police made an appearance and arrested the Taylors. They were taken to the police station and interrogated all day long, while being deprived of food. When they were released, their passports were withheld and they were told to report to the police every Tuesday and Saturday. When Ron reported his case to the British Consul, his passport was returned and he was given fifteen days to leave the country.