Freedomfighters (Libertarias)

Summer 1936

July 18.

The Spanish army rises against the Republican government.

July 19.

In Barcelona and Madrid the army is defeated...

... thanks to the people's heroic efforts.

July 20.

The masses demand a revolution.

The legal government is unable to control the situation.

July 21.

The Spanish civil war begins...

... the last idealistic war ...

... the last dream of a people striving for the impossible ...

... for Utopia.

- Down with capitalism! - Death to priests!

Long live Durruti!

Long live the workers!

Long live the FAI!

Come along, sisters.

A little bit of order.

Silence, please!

Sister Agueda...

Sister Carmela...

Sister Encarnación...

It isn't much, but it will get you back to your families.

You'll leave at once.

Sister Amparo...

Be careful, talk as little as possible to people.

Trust no one, except God. He will never abandon you.

Sister Maria...

The most innocent, the most defenceless,

the furthest from her home.

He will take care of you.

Mother, I'm frightened. Who will help you if you stay?

A Mother Superior belongs with her convent.

Let's see.

St. Matthew, chapter six, verse twenty five.

Do not worry about your life, what you are to eat or drink,

nor about your body and how to clothe it.

Is not life more than food, the body more than clothing?

Continue, Maria.

The birds in the sky do not sow or reap...

...but your heavenly Father feeds them.

Are you not worth much more then they are?

Do you still believe that God will not watch over me,

and all of you?

No, mother.

Forgive me.

- Time is short. - Mother!

They're here!

You nuns, get out! We're going to burn the convent!

Long live the CNT!

Long live the FAl!

Hey there, sisters!

Where are you going?

Don't move!

Come on, stand up! We're not Jesus Christ!

The revolution respects all women.

Let's watch the cathedral burn. On your feet, comrade nuns.

- Who is it? - For pity's sake!

Shelter in the name of the Virgin!

Come in, sister.

Not my underskirt! For the love of God, no!

We're not going to kill you.

Saint Catherine had her tits cut off...

...and complained less.

You smell of rotting lilies. Don't you wash your cunt?

We use bleach here.

That's enough, girls.

Put her into bed.

You can go now.

Quickly!

You want to save your skin, right?

You're going to stay here and say nothing.

Understand?

You've been very lucky, my dear.

You're in good hands here.

Come in, Monsignor.

Come on in.

Monsignor...

Monsignor...

With all respect,

you have to remove

all your clothes.

Good luck, Monsignor. And don't worry.

It will be all right, with God's help.

What's your name, child?

A militiaman helped me get a pass to go to Barcelona.

You know who gives them out? That shoemaker from Murcia.

He sits behind a table stamping papers.

You know what the stamp is made of?

A potato!

And no one can get out of town without a paper

with the stamp.

Fanny, dear, bring me a potato and a knife.

Quickly.

The convent priest hid in a tree and they shot him out of it.

The militiamen found 160 million pesetas

in the episcopal palace. That's 64 million "reales".

160 million "pesetas".

Then that bishop hasn't got a bean.

I'm not doing it for money. It's out of humanity.

And conviction, of course.

I'm very Catholic.

- So am I. - Me too.

More than the cardinal.

More than the Pope!

CNT, "comrade, no toiling".

- Ma'am... - Yes?

It's the militia. Will I let them in?

Take it easy, girls.

With the revolution or without it,

men always come here for the same thing.

Let's go into the drawing room.

Coming!

Who's in charge here?

You mean Madame Colet?

Let's see. That Madame what's it...

You the brothel keeper?

Call your girls in.

All of them.

They're all here.

Aura, turn off that shit.

If this is the revolution, they can forget about me.

I don't go with dykes.

Sit down.

You...

Over here.

Concha.

Friends,

I am Concha Liano and, like my two comrades,

I am a member of "Free Women".

Our country is now in revolt.

The symbols of oppression are burning.

The workers have occupied the factories and barracks.

The hated army which oppressed the working class for centuries...

has been defeated

by ordinary men and women.

Spain is an example to the world.

Priests and capitalists

are fleeing from proletarian justice.

Now,

at last, the people are speaking out.

Friends...

Freedom has broken out.

Keep going.

A word is heard repeatedly in our streets,

our homes, our factories and workshops.

Revolution!

That word is heavy with meaning.

Who's there?

Open in the name of the revolution!

Courage, sister.

Say something. Just say "I'm busy".

I'll break down the door!

Say something. Say "I'm busy".

"I'm busy."

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

What do you think? We're fucking.

Not any more.

Throw that pig out of bed.

That's an order!

Get out of here, bastard!

Or I'll blow your balls off!

We cannot aspire to any kind of justice...

while the greatest slavery still exists.

It forces you to renounce love, tenderness, friendship,

and waste your lives on the sexual voracity of strangers.

It makes a woman

sell her own body,

in houses like this

which are just love sheds.

Love must be free,

not bought.

What's she saying?

That they're whores too, but they don't charge.

I'll kick up a fuss.

No more hypocrisy.

No woman is decent until we all are.

This has to end at once.

It's over now.

We're here to help you.

Comrades,

sisters, in the name of all Spanish women,

we open our arms to help you regain

your dignity as workers, sisters, or mothers.

Join in the liberation of prostitutes!

Long live Free Women and the libertarian revolution!

You've heard my comrade.

Have you nothing to say?

For Crissake! What is it you want?

To be whores all your life?

To have cocks stuck up you ten or fifteen times a day,

and all for a bowl of stew?

Or have you seven lives like a cat

and you can afford to waste this one?

- You can count on me. - And me.

- To shoot, if need be. - We're ready to die.

- How do we start? - Can I be a dressmaker?