1955 Revolution: The Attack on the Metropolitan Cathedral

Attack on the Cathedral *

Original source: Guerra Civil 1955. La Revolución Libertadora y la Caída de Perón

   
Assault on the Metropolitan Curia (Courtesy: Fundación Villa Manuelita)

On November 10, 1954, Perón initiated a forceful campaign against the Catholic Church, accusing it of meddling in national politics and inciting opposition to the government. During a lengthy plenary session at the Presidential House in Olivos, he announced his new cabinet members, legislators, union representatives, and leaders from various Peronist organizations. In a speech that lasted several hours, Perón pointed fingers at the Curia for fueling opposition and attempting to destabilize the government. He singled out numerous priests and religious figures, including the bishops of Córdoba and Santa Fe, alleging that they were agitators. Furthermore, he unveiled a series of measures aimed at neutralizing the Church's influence.

The president's actions caused widespread confusion among the population, and even within his own ruling regime, as many initially believed his words were merely rhetoric. However, in the days that followed, it became evident that Perón intended to wage an actual war against the Church.

In this context, Perón presented Law No. 14,394 to Congress, which included the provision for divorce. Additionally, he advocated for the Prophylaxis Law, which encouraged the establishment of brothels and the suspension of religious education in schools. Perón's measures also encompassed banning all processions and ordering the closure of the Catholic newspaper "El Pueblo," founded by Father Federico Grote on April 1, 1900.

When May 1955 marked the end of Catholicism as the official state religion, the public perceived it as the onset of a new era of violence and persecution in Argentina.

On April 25 of the same year, the government entered into a controversial oil contract with Standard Oil Inc. Co. of California, granting them special concessions in the distant governorate of Santa Cruz, including exploitation rights and extraterritorial privileges. This decision was a stark departure from Perón's consistent ten-year rhetoric against the United States, and it was seen as a "surrendering" move, a term that would later be widely used by his opponents a decade later.

The implementation of these new measures created an extremely tense atmosphere in Buenos Aires. Religious persecution, something unprecedented in Argentine society at that time, intensified when the government of La Rioja prohibited the traditional procession with the images of San Nicolás de Bari and the Niño Alcalde, a longstanding practice. This was accompanied by an increase in arrests and layoffs in the public sector. On March 21, 1955, the government passed a law that removed several religious dates from the official calendar, including All Saints' Day, All Souls' Day, Saint Peter and Saint Paul, the Immaculate Conception, and Corpus Christi, replacing them with partisan events, the main one being "Loyalty Day" on October 17. Eduardo Vuletich, general secretary of the CGT, expressed to a crowd gathered in Plaza de Mayo on May 1: "We workers prefer someone who speaks to us in our language rather than one who prays in Latin, facing the altar and turning their back on the people!"

The hostilities continued, and after a massive act where Perón implied that the clerical leadership "had to leave," the Chamber of Deputies abolished the oath "For God and on the Holy Gospels," repealed religious teaching, enacted the Prophylaxis Law, and imposed heavy taxes on Catholic institutions. When the Episcopate read a pastoral letter in churches on April 17, referring to the ongoing events, several priests and Catholic militants were arrested, leading some regime officials to resign in the following days. Slowly, the regime began to show signs of internal division.

The day of the Corpus Christi procession arrived, which since the second foundation of Buenos Aires had been taking place annually in Plaza de Mayo, with the city authorities following the Blessed Sacrament under a canopy, to the Cathedral.

The celebration had been prohibited under Law 14,400, which also designated it as a "Working Day," enabling employers to deduct pay from employees who didn't attend work. Despite this, Catholic groups defiantly worked tirelessly to ensure the event took place.

Recognizing their determination, the government attempted to limit the commemoration to the Cathedral, hoping to quell the fervor. However, this measure failed to deceive the Catholics, who remained undeterred and mobilized their forces to conduct the procession as they had done for centuries. It marked the first time the seemingly invincible Peronist government faced open opposition.

The situation prompted an urgent meeting between government officials and Church representatives. Present were the Minister of the Interior, Ángel Borlenghi; the Minister of Foreign Relations and Worship, Julio Atilio Bramuglia; the Chief of Police, Miguel Gamboa; and representatives of the Metropolitan Curia, including Monsignors Manuel Tato and Ramón Novoa. The government urged the Church not to proceed with the event, citing concerns about potential violence that might be difficult to prevent. However, these arguments did not intimidate the Catholic congregation in the slightest.

On June 11, 1955, at approximately 3:00 p.m., thousands of men, women, and children gathered in front of the Metropolitan Cathedral to partake in the ceremony. Under the leadership of Monsignor Antonio Rocca, the vicar general, the procession carried the Blessed Sacrament under a canopy while the crowd passionately sang religious hymns. It was a truly awe-inspiring demonstration of faith and determination.


Corpus Christ Procession (Gentileza: Fundación Villa Manuelita)

After the evening mass concluded at 6:00 p.m., a lengthy procession of faithful believers proceeded down Avenida de Mayo towards the National Congress, singing the National Anthem and inviting more people to join along the way. Repeatedly, they chanted slogans like "Christ yes, another no," "Catholic Argentina," "Perón or Christ," "Freedom," and "We are also a people." When they reached Congress, the demonstrators stayed for a while before gradually dispersing in various directions. However, some small groups of agitated militants began shouting anti-government slogans and vandalized a plaque near one of the torches on the building, which commemorated Mrs. Eva Perón lighting the flame on October 18, 1950, the Year of the Liberator General San Martín. Another militant threw two plaques inside the building through the large iron doors. Additionally, they graffitied the walls of Av. Callao and Rivadavia with phrases like "Get out Nero," "Christ wins," and "Zoo Nacional," and painted a large cross over the "V" for victory. Despite these incidents, the group eventually withdrew without further disturbances.

However, the situation didn't end there. Commissioner Gamboa had covertly infiltrated individuals into the demonstration with the aim of causing disruptions. Capitalizing on the fervor and passion of the protesters, these infiltrators proceeded to destroy the windows of the confiscated newspaper "La Prensa" and uttered insults against Perón, Evita, the CGT, and the official newspaper "Democracia." They also vandalized the windshields of some cars. Later that night, militants from the Alianza Libertadora Nacionalistas, members of the General Confederation of Labor, and some members of the Peronist police smeared the statues of Sarmiento, Alberdi, Roque Sáenz Peña, and Rivadavia. They also defaced the fronts of the embassies of Israel and Yugoslavia, and later destroyed a vehicle belonging to the embassy of Peru. State Radio spread false information that the religious demonstration had been small in number but highly aggressive, falsely attributing the excesses to elements unrelated to the demonstration.

The worst incident unfolded the following day when the newspapers, led by "Democracia," emblazoned the headline "BETRAYAL" and reported on the burning of the national flag by "clerical mobs."

According to their accounts, "They set the flag of the Homeland ablaze and raised the flag of the Vatican State at Congress. Clerical groups, led by priests in cassocks, not only offended Evita but also vehemently targeted the CGT and the UES. They resorted to violence by shooting at Democracia and La Prensa, committing a series of grave excesses." "El Laborista" also chimed in, stating: "They burned our flag. Oligarchic clerical elements fomented riots in the city, turning against the people." These views were echoed by other media outlets, all known for their sycophantic stance towards the government.

A distressing photo of Perón, flanked by high-ranking government officials, including Borlenghi and Gamboa, standing next to the charred flag, provided a vivid account of the dreadful event, further fueling emotions to a state of extreme agitation.

On Sunday, June 12, rumors spread that Peronist protesters planned to set fire to the Cathedral. In response to the gravity of the situation, groups from Argentine Catholic Action initiated a communication chain to alert the population and called for a rally in Plaza de Mayo to defend the main temple of the capital. Among the first to respond to the call was Florencio José Arnaudo, a young engineering student and rugby player for the Obras Sanitarias Club's first team, who also played a role in the clandestine publication "Verdad." Arnaudo, an exceptional individual with strong leadership qualities, chronicled those days in his book, "The Year the Churches Burned."

Arnaudo arrived at the square with several friends and connected with the organizers. Subsequently, the majority of Catholic Action members gathered on the steps of the Cathedral, prepared to face the unfolding events.

While conversing with a group of affiliates for about an hour, Arnaudo noticed a small column of Peronist protesters approaching the square, shouting, jumping, and chanting slogans in support of their leader. Among them were ordinary, humble residents from the suburbs, but Arnaudo also observed several thugs and provocateurs associated with the General Confederation of Labor. The presence of the latter saddened him more than angered him, and as he pondered the situation, someone urged the defense group to close ranks on the steps to prevent the approaching group from getting closer.

The newcomers yelled, "Clericals, oligarchs! They are all traitors and sell-outs!" The defense group grew in number with time, enough to halt the Peronist march.

As tension mounted, the Peronist demonstration grew in size, outnumbering the approximately one hundred opponents who stood firm with their arms folded and a defiant demeanor on the steps, maintaining their ranks.

-Perón, Perón! – they chanted as the situation became tense.

At that moment, Monsignor Manuel Tato left the Cathedral to give instructions and try to calm things down.

-Nobody say a word! – He ordered-Nobody move! We will only defend ourselves if we are attacked!

At that crucial moment, someone approached Arnaudo and warned him that individuals in gray raincoats (odd attire for a sunny day) were infiltrating the protesters. Arnaudo tried to reassure the informant but inwardly feared that they might be armed members of the Alianza Libertadora Nacionalista (ALN), a formidable justicialist shock force responsible for the fires of 1953 and several violent attacks against the opposition. Meanwhile, Monsignor Tato, in an effort to maintain control, repeatedly ordered the group not to react or make threatening movements unless the situation demanded it. Concerns grew as the first faithful started arriving for the afternoon mass.


Monsignor Manuel Tato

Completely aware of their protective role, the brave Catholic Action militants created gaps in their ranks, allowing the parishioners to pass through and swiftly closing them once they crossed the human fence they had formed.

Suddenly, a jeep carrying two members of the Alianza Libertadora Nacionalista appeared; one drove, while the other distributed flyers. The vehicle stopped in front of the Cathedral, and one of the individuals in a raincoat approached the occupants briefly. Arnaudo's suspicions were confirmed; these gray-clad men were indeed thugs from the group, ready to cause disturbances. However, Arnaudo chose not to raise alarms at that moment. As the tension grew, hours passed until 6:00 p.m. when the services concluded, and people began hurriedly leaving, with a few remaining inside. The decision was made to stand firm in the place.

By that time, the number of Peronists had significantly increased, surrounding their opponents who totaled around five hundred and sixteen people. Out of these, four hundred and thirty-four were men, mostly stationed outside on the steps of the temple, and the remaining sixty-five were women, along with the seventeen priests inside the Cathedral.

As insults and provocations escalated, a brick was thrown from the Peronist ranks, striking a defender in the face. The young blond boy tumbled down the steps, leaving a trail of blood. Shortly after, another Catholic militant fell backward, holding his head. His comrades lifted both wounded individuals and carried them inside the Cathedral while a barrage of stones, bricks, sticks, and bottles rained down on them.

"Inside! Everyone inside!" several voices shouted simultaneously, urging the defenders to retreat. 

Twenty wounded were taken into the Cathedral, entering through the main door, which remained open.

Arnaudo, ensuring everyone was covered, was the last to enter. Inside, numerous arms struggled to close the heavy doors, contending with the Peronists trying to open them from the outside. Gunshots were heard outside while an individual carrying an Argentine flag fought desperately to enter. Arnaudo approached and struck the stout man with thick glasses several times in the face, breaking his glasses and injuring his eye. Despite this, the man persisted and managed to enter, falling to the floor inside the Cathedral, where someone snatched the flag from him. A barrage of blows, sticks, and kicks rained down on him, almost leaving him unconscious.

"Hit him hard, he's from the Alliance!" someone yelled as the people continued to strike him. Fortunately, merciful hands intervened, moving the man to another part of the temple, sparing him from a potential lynching.

Meanwhile, in the atrium, the Peronists kept pressing to open the doors, and the defenders fiercely struggled to keep them closed.





Contrary to popular belief, the man with the glasses was not a member of the Peronist strike force but a Catholic militant named Pin Errecaborde, who had bravely snatched the flag from an attacker in order to protect it inside the temple. When Arnaudo learned the truth, he felt a deep sense of despair and guilt for his actions. Eager to make amends, he quickly inquired about Errecaborde's whereabouts and was directed to the sacristy, where the wounded were being cared for by some women.

In the sacred confines of the Cathedral, chaos reigned as the constant barrage of bricks, iron, and bottles striking against the doors and walls created an ear-splitting cacophony, and blood-curdling screams filled the air. At the entrances, a group of defenders struggled to unlock the main gate, which remained slightly ajar due to a jammed brick. Despite the combined strength of a dozen strong young men, the task proved insurmountable.

Fearing an attack from the Alliance, Arnaudo sprang into action and recklessly thrust part of his body outside to try and remove the obstacle. Unfortunately, a barrage of projectiles prevented him from succeeding. Meanwhile, another group of defenders, led by Humberto Podetti, broke the benches to arm themselves with clubs and prop up the doors. In the midst of the chaos, women rushed back and forth, tending to the wounded.

Eventually, the brick was dislodged, and the front door was closed, nearly coinciding with the voice of Father Menéndez giving instructions from the pulpit.

- Attention, everyone! Attention!

Upon hearing his call, several young people gathered around Arnaudo.

"We need to organize! We must establish order! Choose a leader!"

There was no doubt about it. Arnaudo was the obvious choice, given his stature, physical strength, and level-headedness. At their request, Arnaudo ascended the pulpit and rallied the defenders, directing them to form two groups—one to protect the temple and another to guard the Curia. He appointed Engineer Isidoro Lafuente as the leader of the former and Augusto Rodríguez Larreta, the leader of the Catholic Youth, to lead the latter. Immediately afterward, Arnaudo arranged for the women and wounded to stay in the sacristy. He then inquired if anyone had weapons, but Father Menéndez expressed their non-violent stance and confirmed that firearms were not present.

Despite this, four young men approached Arnaudo as he descended the pulpit steps and informed him that they were carrying weapons. One had a .32 caliber revolver, while the other two had .22 caliber pistols, and the fourth had a compressed air pistol. Though not an impressive arsenal, it was better than nothing.

Outside, the Peronists were attempting to force their way through the doors using a heavy object as a battering ram. Arnaudo quickly headed towards the Curia to assess the situation. On his way, he passed through the sacristy, where he saw several brave women tending to the wounded, some of whom were in critical condition. Despite the danger and the noise from the angry mob and shattered glass, the women continued their tasks with courage. As he crossed the patio, Arnaudo encountered Monsignor Tato, who was rushing to the temple from the Curia.

Inside the Curia, Engineer Lafuente, wounded in the head, was barricading doors and windows with the help of his cousins and dependents. Father Menéndez arrived shortly after, and Arnaudo asked him if there were other entrances to secure. The priest pointed out the garages, causing concern, as no one had noticed them. Arnaudo quickly rushed to the location and was horrified to find the Peronists attempting to break through the gates in the darkness.

- "Lafuente!" he yelled desperately, calling for Lafuente.

Lafuente hurried to the scene, but before he could take any action, several bricks crashed through the windows in that sector.

"We need to prop up the doors urgently!" Arnaudo exclaimed. A young Navy officer stepped forward, offering his assistance. "Take ten men immediately and shore up that entrance," Lafuente ordered, pointing to the garage entrances.

As the sailor left to follow the directive, Arnaudo armed himself with an improvised club and returned to the Curia's courtyard. A young man stopped him, sharing alarming news that ten thousand CGT workers were marching towards the location, armed and prepared for anything. In response, someone suggested ringing the bells, a proposal that everyone agreed upon. Several individuals rushed to the bell tower's door and, after finding it locked, Captain Eduardo García Puló gave it a powerful kick, causing it to swing open violently. The clamor of the battle now joined the ringing of the bells, a clear plea for help from the defenders.

The Peronists focused their attack on the Curia, believing it to be a vulnerable point of entry. Observers positioned by Arnaudo on rooftops and roofs noticed that the mob had commandeered a car and was using it as a battering ram to repeatedly strike the gates. In doing so, they set the gates on fire, causing the flames to spread towards the building. Members of the Alianza Libertadora Nacionalista and the CGT brandished their weapons and started shooting at anyone who appeared or passed through the openings of the Curia. To protect their lives, Arnaudo ordered all lights to be turned off and instructed everyone not to look outside, knowing that the assailants were shooting with lethal intent.

During this tense moment, a telephone in one of the adjoining rooms kept ringing incessantly. Despite the serious situation, a young boy nearby, thinking it might be an urgent call, opened the door and answered the phone. To his surprise, an anxious "package" lady asked if it was true that the Cathedral was on fire (2). This odd situation momentarily eased tensions and brought some laughter among the defenders. However, their respite was brief, as the Peronists intensified their assault.

Back in the sacristy, Arnaudo encountered Dr. Tomás Casares, a well-known Catholic militant and thinker, who continued to perform the functions of Minister of the Supreme Court of Justice at the express request of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. Casares informed Arnaudo that he had just spoken with the police authorities and the head of the Grenadier Regiment on Horseback, demanding their mediation.

"Listen to me, young man," the doctor said to Arnaudo, "as the one in command, if any authorities from the police or the Army arrive, you must notify me immediately, do you understand? Immediately!"

"Yes, Doctor!" Arnaudo responded.

At that point, it became evident that the efforts of the thousand assailants to seize the Cathedral were futile. The defenders, courageously led by Arnaudo, held their ground valiantly, while the Plaza de Mayo filled with onlookers who had come to observe the unfolding events.

Around 9:30 p.m., firefighters and policemen arrived—the former to control the fire and the latter to disperse the Catholic protesters gathered in San Martín and Diagonal Norte, who were demonstrating in support of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Church, and freedom. At that precise moment, after three and a half hours of fighting, the attack ceased. The police approached the doors of the building to communicate with Monsignor Tato and Dr. Casares, while the defenders awaited expectantly inside the temple and the Curia.

Following the dialogue, Casares approached Arnaudo and informed him that everything was now over. The law enforcement officers would guard the place, and the defenders needed to hand over their weapons. Arnaudo and his brave comrades proceeded to deliver their "arsenal"—the .32 revolver, the two .22 pistols, and the compressed air pistol.

In the midst of these events, Arnaudo rushed to a telephone to call his father and notify him of what had happened (3). He also instructed his father to go to the library, retrieve the complete works of Chesterton, and destroy a piece of paper with addresses written on it.

He feared that during a potential raid later that day, this compromising "document" could be discovered, implicating everyone listed in it.

Almost at the same moment that Arnaudo was about to relinquish his position to a comrade, his friend and fellow student, Gastón Bordelois, who had recently been released from prison, approached him with a potential escape plan through the roofs. Arnaudo expressed gratitude for the information but felt it was his responsibility as the head of the defense to remain in his place. Nevertheless, he instructed Bordelois and his other friend, Humberto Podetti, to leave as soon as possible to continue editing "Verdad," their clandestine publication in opposition to Perón's persecution of the Church.

Despite their attempts, neither Podetti nor Bordelois managed to escape, as police officers blocked their way. Podetti returned to Arnaudo, but Bordelois managed to hide, avoiding detection.

During the turmoil, Monsignor Novoa led about fifteen boys to a secret room behind a false panel on the second level of the library, instructing them to remain hidden due to their compromised situations. Some were doing military service and belonged to the Military College and the Naval Academy. (4)

Around 11:00 p.m., Judge Carlos A. Gentile arrived with an arrest warrant for all the defenders, a move that Dr. Casares, who was trying to prevent going to jail, attempted to intercede against. However, his efforts were in vain.

"Abide by the order," he ordered with a sorrowful voice, addressing the defenders. "There is nothing more that can be done."

Monsignor Tato then asked the defenders to comply meekly and not create difficulties, assuring them that they would only be imprisoned for a few hours, as efforts to secure their release would begin shortly. At midnight, he invited everyone to receive Communion, not only to provide spiritual comfort to the brave souls but also to safeguard the Tabernacle and the consecrated hosts from potential desecration.

Men and women lined up, one by one, leaving the historic Cathedral—a tomb of the Liberator of America, the Unknown Soldier of their Independence, and a place of significant historical, artistic, and spiritual value (5). Inside police trucks, although satisfied with their fulfilled duty and comforted by Holy Communion, this small group of Spartans was taken to the National Penitentiary under severe custody and strict surveillance.

Notes

1 Years later actor, comedian and ephemeral priest.
 

2 Florencio Arnaudo, El año que quemaron las iglesias, Cap. XVII “La defensa de la Catedral”.
 

3 Ditto.
 

4 The room would disappear five days later when the Curia it was set on fire by angry mobs, after the aerial bombardment of the capital.

5 The women and priests were released after their names and document numbers were taken.

* Most of the information was taken from  El año que quemaron las iglesias, de Florencio Arnaudo and La Revolución del 55, Book I, Isidoro Ruiz Moreno.