DE RIVERA

Hokitika Guardian, 3 January 1930, Page 5

DE RIVERA

DICTATOR NOT A TYRANT

(By P. G. KONODY, In “Daily Mail.)

It was over the telephone' wire that I first heard the voice of Primo de RiveraThe occasion was the recent festive inauguration, at Seville, of telephonic communication between Spain and the South American Republics. The harsh, somewhat explosive voice that sent greetings and expression of good will from the Spanish motherland to the Spanish-speaking people across the seas was that of the Dictator—the man who in a few years has reduced chaos to order, turned the ever-growing annual deficit of the Budget into a.-sur-plus, reorganised the railway system, made the main roads throughout the country fit for motor traffic, brought all the public services to a hitherto unknown state of efficiency ; and above all, lias restored peace and order where there was discontent, party strife, and confusion. VOICE OF A SOLDIER.

The voice was that of a soldier, accustomed to command and to exact obedience. The man who entered the room a few minutes later in general’s uniform fitted the voice. Tall, erect, of command.

ing appearance, unhesitating in his movements, he had the bearing of a seasoned soldier and of a man who knows how to impose his will upon those around him.

A Dictator, indeed, but by no means a tyrant. A man whose will is law, but who has a pleasant word for everybody; who listens to arguments, and who, except, where great principles or the interest of“ State are concerned, can be persuaded to acquiescence. FRIENDLY GATHERINGS. I saw him again on the following day in the train from Seville to Valencia. At every station lie appeared at tlie door of his saloon car to talk to the people. No formal addresses, no harangues, but again a joke and a pViasant word and a handshake for everybody individually. , There were no deputations or orgar nised crowds—just friendly gathering of peasants and workers and simple smiling folk who had come to get a glimpse of the regenerator of Spain, to cheer him and to ask him questions,' which he answered smilingly and without hesitation.

When darkness put an end to these demonstrations, Primo de Rivera gave audience to a small party of British journalists who happened to travel in the same train. There was the same absence of formality, the same genial atmosphere. The Dictator partook neither of the wines and liquers offered to llis guests nor of the excellent cigars which bore liis crest and name on the band, but sipped his tea while parrying the crossfire of questions about the economic and political condition and furture of Spain. He answered every question at considerble length—and with that rare tact of the true statesman who realises that words are given us to conceal our thoughts.

“Tell your countrymen that Spain has always had a warm affection for the English people and will always try to make a visit to Spain pleasant (for English travellers,” was his parting message.