• 2 Dewerpe 2000, pp. 142‑143; Schor 1985, pp. 582‑668.
• 3 Moine 2005, pp. 335‑336.
• 4 Moine 2005; Bouloc 2008.

2Marcel Seytres was a gunsmith known for his shady dealings. It comes as no surprise that the Spanish Civil War served him as a setting for his criminal activities, which complicated the control of his business. The authorities had a hard time defining them from a national and political point of view, as the introductory quote shows. At a time when exacerbated nationalism, international tensions and the recent World War fuelled suspicions around “foreign agents”, political troublemakers or criminals without clear commitments,2 such a statement comes as quite striking. During the interwar period, the arms smuggling business reinforced these tensions.3 Across Europe, the First World War gave rise to particularly negative discourses regarding arms dealers in general, who were accused of having made “immoral” profits or of having fomented tensions for their own benefit.4

• 5 Farré 2006.

3The Spanish Civil War (1936–1939) represented a tipping point of rising suspicions. The war itself began after an unsuccessful military coup attempt against the Second Republic in July 1936. It was a long war: for almost three years, the self-proclaimed “national” forces—which were mainly conservative and reactionary—fought against the Spanish Republic, which united the revolutionary and moderate left, together with the Basque and Catalan autonomous regional governments. To prevent the conflict from spreading across the border, the European powers introduced a policy of “non-intervention”, which forbade any military assistance to either side.5 Drafted in August 1936 by the French and British democracies, this initiative was intended to restrict the support of Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy for the military insurgents, soon to be led by General Franco. This policy soon showed its limitations, as it did not prevent the Francoists from receiving assistance, both material and human, from Germany, Italy, and other countries, even though they were members of the “Non-Intervention Committee” set up in London in September 1936.

• 6 Sill 2024.
• 7 For an overview: Howson 1998; Íñiguez Campos 2022; Kowalsky 2004; Ojeda Revah 2004; Rybalkin 2008.
• 8 A useful synthesis can be found in: Viñas 2013.
• 9 Howson 1998, pp. 110‑111.
• 10 See especially: Howson 1998; Heiberg, Pelt 2005; Inglis 2014; Íñiguez Campos 2022.

4The legal Government, internationally isolated, also received support from abroad. Tens of thousands of volunteers flocked to Spain from all over the world; the vast majority joined the International Brigades.6 The Frente Popular Government received direct material help too, coming mainly from the Soviet Union and, to a much lesser extent, from Mexico.7 This subject has been extensively studied since the 1990s. Indeed, the delivery of weapons has become a key issue in the internationalization of the conflict. For a long time, researchers sought to quantify the volume of arms sent to both sides; we now know that Germany and Italy supplied larger quantities and higher-quality weapons.8 Currently we also have a better understanding of the inner workings of these operations. Besides the Soviet Union, the Republic dealt with actors who were ideologically hostile. Although of key importance, the Soviet and Mexican support was nonetheless insufficient. To make up for its technological inferiority, supporters of the Republican camp bought arms and war material on a semi-legal basis, or even smuggled it in. As a lucrative clandestine activity, the supply of arms to the Spanish Republic was closer to illegal trafficking than to a regular commercial activity. It was not a “white (i.e. legal)” market, but a “grey market” because it used legal arrangements such as false export licenses or fake contracts. However, it remained illegal. In this context, the ideological motivations of the suppliers and several intermediaries are sometimes difficult to comprehend, and might be totally absent in some cases.9 It is well known that these relations led to fraud and to inflation that benefited supplier countries and arms-trade intermediaries.10

• 11 Barbieri 2015.
• 12 Gallien, Weigand 2022, pp. 8‑9.

6Despite the anti-fascist insistence on operating within the white and grey markets, which were the safest, it is possible to identify some cases in which the anti-fascist coalition resorted to the black market (also known as contraband), which was totally illegal. This paper deals with this kind of transaction. While not all networks came from the Mediterranean and they did not restrict their activities to this area, this space of contact could be a good observatory to understand how some brokers of shady businesses became inescapable partners. While many studies reference arms dealers, their profiles and trajectories are often only briefly addressed. As a result, researchers often mention the alliance between “unscrupulous merchants” and the anti-fascist coalition without examining the nature of this relationship. In this sense, research on arms trafficking during the Spanish Civil War would have benefited from a more comparative and open-ended approach. This includes not only comparing it with Nazi Germany’s supplies to Franco—which also involved personal enrichment11—but also drawing on the field of smuggling studies, which undertakes a social history of illegal circulation.12

• 13 Montel 2007; Borutta 2013; Bartolotti, Regnard 2024.
• 14 Regnard 2022, pp. 168‑248.
• 15 Dornel 2025, pp. 170‑171.
• 16 Arborio 2004; Pattieu 2006; Montel 2024.

8In this case, the presence of casinos and the proximity of the Italian border may have contributed to the development of illegal practices. In Marseille, more than in Paris or Lyon, there was a great deal of legal and illegal activity linked to the port, migratory and colonial context: the city become more integrated at the global scale, and informal traffic played a large part in this dynamic.13 This applies to Syrian migrants and isolated young women, who are targets for smugglers and pimps.14 The First World War also had consequences insofar as it accelerated movements with the colonial Empire, which gave rise, for example, to various forms of smuggling of and by colonial workers.15 After the war, and because of it, black pimps were particularly well integrated into local criminal networks. All in all, some legal activities like gambling, prostitution or gun trading gave rise to parallel informal, even illegal practices16. While Marseille and Nice have their own specific characteristics, owing to their Mediterranean and colonial roots, not everything is unique to these areas. The interwar period was an era of diversification in terms of illegal traffic, with purchases made against a backdrop of colonial conquest. This led to greater control, and a study of Nice or Marseille shows how national and international legislation was being circumvented.

• 17 Mathieu, Roussel 2019, p. 13 (translated by the author).
• 18 Diani 2003, p. 107.
• 19 Mathieu, Roussel 2019, p. 13

10To understand these presumably paradoxical relationships, we need to consider a few concepts and the context in which these relationships operate. Academic studies—mainly by sociologists and political scientists—have generally used the term “broker” to define the key players of transnational connections. According to sociologists Lilian Mathieu and Violaine Roussel, brokers “are often characterized by particular social features such as language skills or superior mobility, which facilitate their movement within the social world”.17 Many studies in political science have focused on the role of individuals, known as “social brokers”, who are able to connect communities that were not in contact owing to social or political obstacles, or simply the lack of opportunities.18 Mathieu and Roussel point out that brokers are generally located at the intersection of different social universes that they are able to navigate. In this sense, the ability of individuals to adapt sometimes takes the form of an “identity shift”.19

• 20 Kalifa 2013, pp. 288‑303.
• 21 Camiscioli 2024.

11This skill is clearly recognizable for the members of the so‑called “Milieu”. Historian Dominique Kalifa has studied the appearance of this concept, which was first used in the early 20th century to refer to a group that, by “origin” or “profession”, is dedicated to crime.20 The term came out when procuring and drug trafficking developed very rapidly: in a short span of time, it enabled a small section of criminal society to become very rich and to get in touch with the legal elites. This would herald the emergence of a new type of criminal who was not representative of social decline: men in the “underworld” started dressing like “gentlemen”, had firearms and cars and were portrayed in films and in the media. This has, for example, given rise to the myth of the “white slave trade”, according to which young European white women were supposedly subjected to global trafficking, posing a significant threat to European nations. While the growth of procuring and the forced mobility of young women within and outside the Old Continent is an undeniable phenomenon, this narrative has primarily emphasized the immorality of certain actors while downplaying the agency of the women involved in chosen and forced mobilities.21

• 22 Montel 2005, pp. 101‑102 (translated by the author).

12The cultural representation of the “Milieu” was—and still is—well known, but academic research has not, until recently, described their practices and their social position. Their secrecy has been a source of myths that this essay aims at describing and deconstructing. According to Laurence Montel, “the richness of the subject lies in the study of the margins: between the legal and the illegal, the legal norm and the social norm, legal society and organized crime.”22 There is no doubt that the protagonists of the Milieu have a real capacity to adapt themselves to different kinds of situations. Their shady activities related to prostitution, gun trading or gambling put them in contact with both the higher spheres of society and the “underworld”, the colonial world and the metropolis, the legal and the illegal, and they were able to connect several worlds.

• 23 Bayon 2004, pp. 2‑5; Montel 2005, p. 11.
• 24 Vidal 2015, p. 101 and seq.
• 25 Forcade, Laurent 2005, pp. 47‑49.
• 26 Jackson 2001.

13Police and military archives help us to understand this phenomenon better. These sources contain biases related to the missions of the police, which were based on searching for guilty parties and monitoring attacks on political power.23 Their authors are also likely to interpret events according to the fears of the moment, particularly those of foreigners and political threats. One example of this would be the growing concern within French military intelligence about the threat of a communist uprising.24 There are also risks of misinformation, whether deliberate or not.25 Denunciations, which feed intelligence work, also respond to strategies punctuated by a diplomatic, judicial, policing, political or even interpersonal calendar. Moreover, the interpretation of information is sometimes the product of a bureaucratic or ideological tension between the person producing the intelligence and the one ordering it.26

• 27 Montel 2005, pp. 104‑105.

14In short, there is every reason to believe that police surveillance focuses on certain individuals while overlooking others. In a clandestine context where exhaustiveness seems quite impossible, the silences in the archives sometimes cry out for deeper investigation. It goes without saying that totally illegal phenomena are more difficult to trace than those that comply with the law. However, the absence of sources on certain individuals can raise questions about their real involvement, which may have been exaggerated by popular representations or, on the contrary, may have been overlooked by surveillance services that either feared the intervention of overly powerful figures or collaborated with them. The example of Paul Carbone and François Spirito serves as a reminder that history often consists of nuancing the two sides of the story: in the case of these two notorious criminals, the lack of archives is glaringly obvious, which means that political protections may have existed, but their importance seems to have been overestimated.27

• 28 Montel 2005, p. 103.
• 29 Frémeaux 2001, p. 322.

15Using surveillance archives to study a clandestine phenomenon also provides a different perspective on events that are otherwise mainly covered by the press.28 The great diversification of surveillance services, which was very pronounced in the 1930s, gave researchers better coverage of events, which in turn made it possible to make numerous cross-checks.29 These were also made possible by administrative documents. Finally, the historian Jean‑Marc Berlière pointed out that the gaps in the surveillance archives are not that far removed from those in other historical sources:

• 31 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 1: Minutes of the French Military Staff about Seytres, 21 November 1931.
• 32 Archives Nationales françaises, site of Pierrefitte-sur‑Seine (hereinafter: “ANF”), 19940474, folde (...)
• 33 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 2: Intelligence memo from the French Military Staff, 11 June 1940.
• 34 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 2: Ministère de l’Armement, secrétariat général (Security Department), 30 M (...)
• 35 Podini 2021, p. 337.
• 36 Olivier 1933-1934, p. 898.

18Unsurprisingly, gunsmiths play a central role in illegal arms trafficking. Marcel Seytres was one of these merchants well connected to shady trades. Born in 1878, he was a customs clerk until 1907, when he was given a suspended prison sentence and dismissed from his job. He then turned into a weapon producer and seller.31 Step by step, he bought up several businesses and created a complementary and well-judged commercial system. It is rumoured that this made him a millionaire.32 His business was established in Marseille, where he owned an armoury and a warehouse, and also in Saint-Étienne, where he had a factory and a shop for the trade of “Union” brand pistols. He was particularly mobile and able to travel outside the country to close deals, and this is explained as well by the setting of Marseille as the nerve-centre of his business.33 His correspondence shows that he had an extensive professional network not only in France (Armurerie Flobert, Société Française de Munitions, Établissements Darne, etc.), but also in Italy (with Beretta), Switzerland or Belgium (with some guns traders in Liège, like Edgard Grimard).34 In addition to these commercial places, he had connections in major ports such as Antwerp, Hamburg or Le Havre, in addition to Marseille.35 He seems to have leveraged the colonial connection, as evidenced by his participation among the numerous exhibitors at the 1931 International Colonial Exhibition in Paris.36 As a registered importer and a producer, he had a cover which helped him when involved in irregular operations.

• 37 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 1: Minutes of the French Military Staff about Seytres, 21 November 1931 (tr (...)
• 38 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 1: Minutes of the French Military Staff about Seytres, 21 November 1931.
• 39 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 2: Intelligence memo from the French Military Staff, 11 June 1940.
• 40 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 1: Minutes of the Direction Générale de la Sûreté nationale, September 1937 (...)

19Marcel Seytres had a very bad reputation. His enemies described him as someone “unscrupulous, boastful and deceitful, capable of doing anything to get money”.37 An informer —probably a competitor—reported that he was well connected with the sailors and the smugglers of Marseille to whom he sold pornographic magazines and drugs.38 Military intelligence considers that he was able to sell everything from military clothes to electric lamps, or trucks.39 The police also reported that he was able to sell weapons to anyone: “he did recognize [some accusations] but claimed that, as the arms trade was free, it was perfectly legitimate for him to sell them to anyone”.40

• 41 GR 6 N 343, folder 2: Information given by the contrôleur J. Paradis about “weapons of French origi (...)
• 42 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 2: Prosecution’s case of the Tribunal de première instance of Marseille, Pa (...)
• 43 SHD, GR 6N 343: Information given about “the clandestine supplies of war material, arms and munitio (...)

20When the Spanish Civil War broke out, Marcel Seytres had already been the subject of investigations for exporting ammunition to the Republican faction. The quantity was quite significant: in addition to the tens of pistols, he had also exported more than 300,000 cartridges to Spain;41 he was seemingly involved in buying some guns in Switzerland, but this business probably came to nothing.42 For the duration of the conflict, he was one of the few French gunsmiths deeply involved in the war.43

• 44 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 1: Minutes of the French Military staff (Section de Centralisation du Rense (...)
• 45 SHD 3022, folder 2: Information given by Marseille’s Prosecutor, Prosecutor’s office, 23 August 193 (...)
• 46 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 1: Minutes of the French Military Staff about Seytres, 17 December 1931.
• 47 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 1: Intelligence memo from the Section de Centralisation du Renseignement, 2 (...)
• 48 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 1: Letter from the commissaire spécial of Toulon to the Vice Admiral, Chief (...)
• 49 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 2: Intelligence memo from the French Military Staff, 11 June 1940.

21This was not the first time he had had dealings with Spain, having been involved in arms sales to Barcelona anarchists in 1933 through some unidentified anti-fascist groups from Paris.44 Besides Spain, the reports mentioned shady trades with Belgium, China, Syria, Lebanon, Morocco, Turkey, the French colonies, and even with some criminals, or with activists, as well as with terrorists from the extreme-right group known as La Cagoule.45 In the case of Morocco, Marcel Seytres brought veterans’ arms from the Great War to Abdelkrim el‑Khattabi to fight against Spain during the Rif War (1921–1927).46 Concerning China, he was quoted in a big deal of millions of ammunitions with Bruno Spiro—a major international gun trafficker—through the diplomatic coverture of Costa Rica.47 On a small scale, one of his business habits was to sell guns to sailors and ship cooks, who then resold the goods in the colonies or other ports.48 Some of the weapons from these various trades came from Switzerland, Italy, Germany or Spain, which was a big issue for the French Intelligence.49 Last but not least, his ability to deal with everyone was obviously not appreciated by authorities. We are thus dealing with an individual who frequently played a role in informal transnational networks, particularly in contexts of conflict. While other gunsmiths may have held comparable roles in other cities, he emerged as a key intermediary in Marseille.

• 50 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 2: Intelligence memo from the French Military Staff, 11 June 1940 (translat (...)
• 51 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 1: Minutes from the French Military Staff about Seytres, 1 December 1931.
• 52 SHD GR 7N² 3022, folder 2: Prosecution’s case of the Tribunal de première instance of Marseille, Pa (...)
• 53 GR 6 N 343, folder 2: GR 6 N 343, folder 2: Minutes intended for the General Secretary (Service de (...)
• 54 Podini 2021, pp. 337‑338.
• 55 SHD, GR 342, folder 3: Minutes of the Direction Générale du Contrôle de Matériel de Guerre intended (...)

22Despite his bad reputation—highlighted by policemen and competitors—Marcel Seytres seems to have been well integrated in legal business circles. In 1940, the French military intelligence wrote that because of an “extensive network of associates, paymasters and protectors”, he managed to earn a lot of money in any kind of business, especially those concerning guns and the ammunition trade.50 He had accomplices in customs and in the police, where an inspector called Bonnefous would warn him if there was a possibility of him getting investigated.51 Among his many assistants, he is said to have had a legal adviser, Mr. Angelvin, a dismissed magistrate. He was taken to court several times, but the investigations were never conclusive, owing to a lack of evidence. It was only thanks to the rise of international tensions with Italy and Germany that some investigations led to the disappearance of ammunition stocks, their sale to several states and the clandestine manufacture and sale of ammunition loaders52 to judicial indictments. While awaiting trial, scheduled for June 1940, Seytres’ license was briefly withdrawn by the army, but he was granted it again to satisfy the demands of the Finnish Government.53 Following a search warrant, Seytres showed the police several documents proving that he was on a mission for the French Government to sell war material to Finland.54 A memo from the Direction Générale du Contrôle de Matériel de Guerre, created shortly beforehand to supervise the production and sale of arms, was explicit about the reasons for this benevolence towards the French arms industry. Because the control system was relatively new, “considerable latitude has been allowed with regard to the application of sanctions, so that they can be graduated and applied under the most favourable conditions. At present, the only penalty for breaching the manufacturing control regulations is the withdrawal of the license. In most cases, this would be too harsh, and at the same time contrary to the interests of the State, which cannot do without the support of certain manufacturers.”55 Clearly, the legal spheres constituted a support for the shady trades of Marcel Seytres as well as others.

• 56 Sill, Davranche 2014.
• 57 Berry 2004, pp. 73‑74.

23The second case involves the needs of political groups that sent weapons to Spain during the Civil War. This applies to the Comité pour l’Espagne Libre (CEL) created and led by Louis Lecoin to help his comrades from Spain. He had been in contact with them for at least two decades: from the 1920s onwards, Lecoin, a conscientious objector, defended anarchist activists facing extradition from France to Spain. In 1922, he led the Nicolau-Mateu Committee, named after the two men accused of murdering the President of the Spanish Government, Eduardo Dato, and in 1927 he did the same to protect Francisco Ascaso, Buenaventura Durruti and Gregorio Jover, who were imprisoned in France and threatened with deportation to Spain and Argentina.56 To French anarchists, Spain was a refuge for a few decades, or simply a learning ground. Anarchists had followed the inverse course when Spanish militants had to flee the repression during the dictatorship of Primo de Rivera (1923–1930).57 Louis Lecoin had been actively engaged in anti‑war activism since the 1910s. His struggle aligned with that of the anarchists who, alongside other leftist forces, denounced war profiteers—an accusation notably articulated by the anarchist publicist Mauricius in his book Les profiteurs de la guerre (1917).

• 58 Archives de la Préfecture de Police, site de Pantin (hereinafter: “APP”), BA 1665: Information give (...)
• 59 Salmon 2021, p. 131.

24When the Spanish Civil War broke out, French anarchists had to deal with criminal circles and even political adversaries in order to buy arms. For example, Jules Chazanof—who belonged to the CEL—dealt on several occasions with mobsters Paul Carbone and François Spirito, two notorious “pimps” who were well established in Marseille and Paris.58 They were also influential members of the so‑called “French Connection”. To finance these acquisitions, the CEL not only received donations from French militants but also primarily benefited from the financial support of Spanish anarchists, who, despite their limited financial resources, made significant contributions. In short, the lack of resources during the arms embargo led to the acquisition of a disparate range of equipment. Everything was intended to supply Spanish libertarian militiamen who were chronically under-equipped.59

• 60 Grisoni, Hertzog 1979, pp. 25‑29 (translated by the author).
• 61 APP, 1W 862/37785: letter of the Renseignements généraux Director of the Préfet de Police, August o (...)

25In Marseille, Paul Carbone and François Spirito were not only an unavoidable support to the French anarchists, but also to the communists, as the party member Lucien Molino points out when explaining his own relationship with the “Spirito’s gang mobsters”.60 Being key players in the Marseille “Milieu”, men associated with Carbone and Spirito provided material of dubious quality, but which the Marseilles communists could not afford to refuse for lack of a better alternative. Lucien Molino mentions that “relations with the Spirito gang were not easy”, which is why political activists took extra precautions, even if it meant requesting the escort of “heavily armed” henchmen. In addition to assisting the anarchists and the communists, Carbone and Spirito did not miss the opportunity to deal with the Francoists by shipping arms from Morocco. They were even involved in the illegal sale of Parmesan cheese to them.61 It is obvious that their dealings were mostly motivated by money.

• 62 APP, BA 1665: Information given by the Préfecture de Police, 17 October 1936.
• 63 APP, BA 1665: Information given by the Préfecture de Police, 7 November 1936.
• 64 SHD, GR 7N² 2132, folder 3: Information given by the Préfet of Haute-Savoir to the French Home Secr (...)
• 65 Dreyfus, Racine 2010.

26Surprisingly enough, the key player in this connection was not an anarchist or a mobster, but the lawyer and former deputy Henry Torrès. It was thanks to him that Jules Chazanoff, an anarchist from the Comité pour L’Espagne Libre, was summoned by Paul Carbone to his Parisian home to agree on an arms deal.62 As a lawyer, Henry Torrès had defended the Spanish anarchists Francisco Ascaso, Buenaventura Durruti and Gregori Jover in 1927, with the support of Paul Faure and Louis Lecoin, as they faced extradition to and political persecution in Spain or Argentina. Later, as a candidate for parliament, he used the services of Paul Carbone and François Spirito as electoral agents, a practice that was not uncommon for figures associated with the Milieu, to play a role in election campaigns at that time.63 His extensive court experience brought him into contact with criminals, particularly the ones who organized procurement. He was also appointed by Michel Rochas, a pimp arrested in the spring of 1937 while he was trying to deliver weapons to Spain.64 The figure of Henry Torrès allows us to stress the importance of actors whose political trajectory was not linear and who were in contact with various political groups.65 The lawyer was a member of the Communist Party and then the SFIO (the French socialist party). Once he became independent in 1929, he associated with various French left-wing activists, like Louis Lecoin.

• 66 Howson, 1998, p. 84.
• 67 Viñas 1974; Barbieri 2015.
• 68 National Archives of the United Kingdom, KV/2 3387‑2, document 45a: Letter from Marc Wilenkin to Os (...)
• 69 Lecoin 1965, p. 155.

27There is also evidence that Henry Torrès belonged to circles that were not really those of the “underworld”. Let us take as an example the correspondence between the English lawyer Marc Wilenkin and Oscar Gilinsky, a white-collar criminal close to the circles of Josef Veltjens, an intimate of Marshal Hermann Göring, in March 1938. These players were both involved in several sales to Republican Spain, some of which were real scams.66 They were also key actors in arms sales to Francoist Spain, which led to their personal enrichment.67 Lawyer Marc Wilenkin is astonished that, in response to one of his letters, Oscar Gilinsky accidentally slipped in a letter to another lawyer, the above-mentioned Henry Torrès.68 The incident, which may seem like an anecdote, says a lot about the narrow milieu with which the Spanish Republicans had to collaborate throughout the war in order to obtain weapons. It also reveals a lot about the role of Torrès as a key player owing not only to his own profession and experience, but also to his political contacts. We can assume that this network offered the support of the French Prime Minister Léon Blum, to whom Henry Torrès was close, but there is no way of knowing for sure. In fact, the only evidence is that Louis Lecoin, the main organizer of the CEL, wrote in his memoirs that he knew André Blumel, the Léon Blum’s Cabinet Director, after he met him a few times at Torrès’ home.69

• 70 SHD, GR 7N² 3026, folder 3: Information given by the Directeur de la police d’État of Nice intended (...)
• 71 SHD, GR 7N² 3026, folder 3: Information given by the Directeur de la police d’État of Nice intended (...)

28Another case illustrates the close links between the Republican camp and criminal circles in the French Riviera. In June 1937, an investigation prompted by denunciations from the extreme right in Marseille revealed the scale of a network involved in smuggling weapons and importing jewellery and valuables to and from Spain.70 In addition, part of the group was responsible for monitoring the departure of convoys from Marseille and protecting them from Franco’s surveillance.71

• 72 SHD, GR 7N² 3026, folder 3: Information given by the Commissaire divisionnaire, chef des services d (...)
• 73 According to the Nice police, Philippe-Antoine Guerrieri controlled several individuals in Nice who (...)

29The French Riviera’s criminal association was made up of people with a murky reputation. Marseille’s chief of police spéciale considered that “this gang is made up of a group of individuals, most of whom are crazy or crooked”.72 It appears that some of them were involved in drug trafficking and others in large-scale pimping.73 It is quite a portrait.

• 74 SHD, GR 7N² 3026, folder 3: Information given by the Directeur de la police d’État of Nice intended (...)
• 75 SHD, GR 7N² 2544, folder 2: Information given by the commissaire-cher de la Sûreté nationale de Nic (...)

30It remains difficult to understand how they established a connection with the anti-fascist faction. Philippe-Antoine Guerrieri, one of the most prominent criminal figures in Nice at the time, reportedly worked directly with “Barcelona agents”, making him an official agent of the Generalitat of Catalonia (i.e. the regional administration).74 Deliveries were organised regularly from Port-Vendres, in France, to Rosas, in Spain, by individuals supervised and paid by the Generalitat. Paul Gauthier and Henri Camail, who had three small ships at their disposal, were responsible for purchasing weapons and shipping them by sea. The links between them and the Spanish conflict are complex. In addition to the Generalitat, someone called Perez—a delegate of the Federación Anarquista Ibérica (FAI) in Monaco—was appointed as the person in Nice tasked to “remunerate those interested in arms trafficking on [their] territory”.75 He was connected to Philippe-Antoine Guerrieri’s group.

• 76 SHD, GR 7N² 2132, folder 4): Minutes of the French Military Staff (Service de Renseignement – Secti (...)
• 77 SHD, GR 7N² 3026, folder 3: Information given by the Directeur de la police d’État of Nice intended (...)
• 78 SHD, GR 7N² 2616, folder 1: Information given by Mr. Letort, commissaire spécial aux ports, intende (...)
• 79 SHD, GR 7N² 3026, folder 3: Information given by the Commissaire divisionnaire, chef des services d (...)
• 80 Archivo General de la Administración of Alalá de Henares, caja 11 060, exp. 6493 : Minutes of Martí (...)

31The ownership of vessels used for smuggling provides additional information. Several reports mention the use of a small boat purchased with French Communist Party money to smuggle arms.76 Although we don’t know for sure which boat was involved in the affair, we can assume that the reports refer to the San Sylvestro (or San Sylvestri), which had been “recently acquired”, according to a report dating from the end of June 1937.77 Another boat worth mentioning is the Cap Ferrat. We know that it was bought by Henri Camail at the beginning of 1937 from a Marseille ship-owner,78 then sold and renamed Gyuri before August.79 By mid‑October, Camail had made many return trips to Greece. It is likely that it was him who sold the ship to Republican Spain under a “time charter” contract with the Greek ship-owner Theophanides (or Theofanidis), a salesman in Bodosakis’ Poudreries Helléniques and one of the biggest arms sellers to the Spanish Republic during the conflict.80

• 81 SHD, GR 7N² 2544, folder 2: Information given by the Service de la Sûreté intended for the commissa (...)

32Regarding the Gyuri case, the criminal nature of the group’s activities seems to explain its role. According to a report by the Nice security service, the individuals in the organisation “[lived] mostly from gambling, women or dishonest transactions”.81 They “operated in France, Belgium, Germany, Italy and even England” smuggling weapons and valuables, which led to them being the subject of intelligence enquiries in many neighbouring countries. These smugglers were key figures in the French Riviera Milieu, well versed in clandestine activities and particularly in the arms trade, and it is highly likely that they dealt with several factions for purely economic purposes and without any ideological bias.

• 82 SHD, GR 7N² 2598, folder 2: Information given by the commissaire de police spéciale of Annemasse, 2 (...)

33Their influence is also due to their connection with the highest political spheres. At the beginning of January 1937, an investigation had already revealed relations between part of this group and the Presidency of the Council, as well as the Republican embassy. Following the publication of a press article, Charles Beck—known as “de Beaufort”—was arrested with Georges Pierre—alias Gustave Georges—in Switzerland.82 The investigation soon revealed the existence of a vast network which, since the previous month of November, had been stepping up its efforts to buy large quantities of war material. As well as Paul Gauthier, several individuals from Marseille and Switzerland were involved in the purchase of 1,000 Mauser machine guns and 100,000 rifles and cartridges.

• 83 SHD, GR 7N² 2598, folder 2: Information given by the commissaire de police spéciale of Annemasse, 2 (...)
• 84 SHD, GR 7N² 2598, folder 2: Information given by the Inspection du contrôle général des services de (...)
• 85 SHD, GR 7N² 2598, folder 2: Information given by the Inspection du contrôle général des services de (...)
• 86 He is actually able to give its address, the reasons for its closure and the names of several deleg (...)

34When he was arrested, Georges Pierre threatened the Swiss police officers that he would call Léon Blum, the French Council’s President. The police believed this was a bluff, particularly as the trafficker changed his story several times, stating that he had placed orders for China and then for far‑right militants of the Parti Social Français (PSF) and the Parti Populaire Français (PPF). Charles Beck’s statements were nevertheless confirmed. He affirmed that he “had close ties with the brother of Mr Léon Blum, President of the Council, and it was through his brother that he was very well informed about affairs of state”.83 He was also a close friend of the far‑right MP Xavier Vallat,84 and he argued a proximity to René Blum, the brother of the Président du Conseil who was a theatre director in Monte-Carlo.85 Charles de Beaufort also seemed well informed about the modus operandi and the record of the former Republican arms’ purchasing committee located at 55 Avenue George V.86

• 88 SHD, GR 7N² 2598, folder 2: Information given by the Inspection du contrôle général des services de (...)

36In any event, although the criminal police established that convicted criminals had been asked to smuggle weapons under the nebulous protection of the authorities, no action seems to have been taken.88 Although limited, this support seems to have been effective enough to ensure that cases were conducted quietly or compromised by incomprehensive investigations, at the least.

• 89 Grisoni, Hertzog 1979, pp. 27‑28 (translated by the author).

37It is obvious that the anti-fascist camp had to rely on collaboration with individuals involved in prostitution, arms trafficking or activities linked to the extreme right. For some groups aiming to maintain greater independence, such as certain anarchists, it was beneficial to adopt alternative sources of weapons and ammunition to remain self-reliant. Since the Spanish Government needed to have weapons as soon as possible, they could not always expect to get contracts. Their ambivalent position invites us to rethink smuggling for the Spanish conflict beyond mere political or criminal affiliations. In the case of the Spanish Civil War and the anti-fascist mobilisations it inspired, historical narratives have often prioritised ideological and moral interpretations. While such frameworks are essential for understanding the motivations of many actors, they do not fully account for the complexity of the period. Economic factors—particularly those linked to smuggling and informal trade—also played a significant role and deserve closer attention. In his testimony long after the events took place, the Communist Lucien Molino explains, for example, that “[François Spirito] was interested because he took a commission on each transaction, and we didn’t have to look for other suppliers. […] The mobsters were only interested in the money… The Spaniards who relied on the weapons we sent them, they didn’t give a damn about it.”89

• 90 This article concerns a survey of job searches in the United States. In his study, Mark Granovetter (...)

38Here we are, with an apolitical, economic and partisan relationship. This was the reason for a quid pro quo: political or national groups were asking for an exclusive trade; but for the key players of illegal trafficking, gun trading was a business like any other: weapons were a profitable product. Of course, it was not all easy, and the partnership led to some bad business or swindles. However, it was useful for the anarchists and other groups that had neither diplomatic support nor financial possibilities to buy weapons within the context of a rough embargo. In a way, this is the law of the “strength of weak ties” formulated by Mark Granovetter, which states that effective support is often provided outside the strong ties already forged among close acquaintances.90 Unfortunately, the decision to conduct trials quickly and discreetly means that it is impossible to ascertain all the dynamics of relationships—the case of Charles Beck is highly representative in this regard.

• 91 Podini 2021, p. 338.

39Having explained this alliance, we now need to assess why certain individuals became key players. Contrary to what Andrea Podini says, it wasn’t only gunsmiths such as Seytres who monopolized gun trading during the interwar period.91 All these men were not just “gun smugglers” or “lawyers”, and their activities were part of a more global framework. As men of the Milieu, their ability to bring together legal and illegal spheres was remarkable. The complexity and diversity of their business was a sign of great flexibility. For them, the French Riviera was a privileged setting—although not unique—in which to set up lucrative businesses: its colonial links, its port and the gambling background of the city paved the way for a huge amount of legal and illegal trafficking, which allowed illegal activities to be grafted onto regular practices. But this was not simply a Mediterranean issue. Carbone and Spirito, for instance, were involved in gun trafficking in Belgium, and they were also famous in the Montmartre and Pigalle districts, renowned spots for gambling and prostitution in Paris. Marcel Seytres did not restrict his activities to Marseille and the French Riviera, far from it, and nor did Philippe-Antoine Guerrieri and his partners.

• 92 Établissements Marcel Seytres, 12 rue Colbert, “Procès verbal des délibérations de l’assemblée géné (...)

40The war period and the political ruptures it entailed had a significant impact on archival sources, to the point that the traces of several of these actors have been lost. It has not been possible to uncover further information about Marcel Seytres, beyond the fact of his death in 1950 and the continued functioning of his company until quite recently.92 Paul Carbone, who was involved in collaboration with the Nazis, died in 1943 after a Resistance attack derailed the train he was on. His associate, François Spirito, fled first to Francoist Spain when the Allies came to France, then to Latin America and the United States, where he expanded the operations of the so‑called ‘French Connection’. He eventually returned to France, where he lived out his final years as a free man. Both men continued to fascinate the public even after their deaths, becoming the subject of films and novels. Yet their portrayal as mere “gangsters” or fascinating “villains” has often obscured a more nuanced understanding of their historical role.