Word: niceto
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Certainly Don Manuel, chunky and relentless, has no heart, no pity for his enemies. He ruled Spain as Premier for all but a few weeks of the past two years, was abruptly dropped as "too radical" by chubby, Church-loving President Niceto Alcala Zamora (TIME, Sept. 18). Last week new Premier Lerroux, a Bryanesque idealist, had held office for 21 days, had never dared to ask a vote of confidence from the Cortes and still dared not ask one. He knew that in a straight vote Man-With-No-Soul Azana and Snake Prieto would soon beat him. Wringing...
Long argued, bitterly fought by Spanish conservatives. Spain's new Law of Re- ligious Congregations, passed three weeks ago (TIME, May 29), still lay last week on the desk of tousle-haired President Niceto Alcala Zamora ready for signature. Long as he could President Alcala Zamora postponed the deed, sent messages to the Cortes protesting the section forbidding primary and secondary education by monks or nuns, insisting on the right to use the mediating power that is his under the Constitution. An open break threatened between Zamora's adherents and the Socialist followers of bag-jowled Premier Manuel...
...second meeting had ended without a decision because Radical Socialist members had threatened to resign if the sentence were commuted. General Sanjurjo ordered a vermouth as the cabinet went into a third session. Three hours before sundown Premier Azana announced to the Cortes that the cabinet had asked President Niceto Alcala Zamora to commute the sentence to life imprisonment, that the President had signed the papers. Rightist deputies cheered, those of the Left hissed. There were half a dozen fist fights. Big-jowled General Sanjurjo grinned, ordered another vermouth...
Spain's mid-August heat is dry, oppressive. Business, traffic and government move slowly. Public officials leave Madrid for a rest, as did President Niceto Alcala Zamora last week. But heat meant nothing to a veteran of Moroccan campaigns, swart General Jose Sanjurjo,* good friend of the late Dictator Primo De Rivera and of exiled King Alfonso, whom he faintly, fatly resembles. "Just the time for a coup d'état," he chuckled to himself as he sped south from Madrid one torrid night. Next day Sevillanos on their way to lunch heard the clatter of hoofs...
...first birthday of Spain's Republic, the anniversary of the day Alfonso XIII fled from his country. Airplanes dropped 50,000 little red, yellow and purple parachutes; there were gala football matches and bullfights. Pink with pleasure, tousle-haired President Niceto Alcala Zamora reviewed 10,000 troops in the Castellana avenue, presided over a lunch to the diplomatic corps. He was too excited to remember to go to a broadcasting studio in time to speak to the Americas. Madrid crowds, never anxious to go to bed, danced in the Puerta del Sol all night. The keynote speech was made...