Only one short paragraph of the new president’s speech was devoted to foreign affairs. Yet this aside—and the powerful analogy it contained—would launch one of the most important programs in the history of American foreign policy. “In the field of world policy,” Roosevelt told his fellow Americans, “I would dedicate this nation to the policy of the good neighbor—the neighbor who resolutely respects himself and, because he does so, respects the rights of others—the neighbor who respects his obligations and respects the sanctity of his agreements in and with a world of neighbors.”1
Roosevelt’s brief but pointed comment reflected the same domestic concerns he had highlighted in the rest of his address, but from a different angle. At its heart—and at the center of the resulting Good Neighbor Program—was the principle of nonintervention and noninterference in the domestic affairs of Latin American countries. Yet Roosevelt’s aims were not purely altruistic. Under the Good Neighbor Program, the United States developed mutually beneficial, reciprocal exchanges with Latin American countries in the hope of also creating new opportunities for trade between the United States and its southern neighbors, thereby deepening the influence of the United States in the region.
The US secretary of state, Cordell Hull, was assigned the job of making the US president’s declaration a reality by developing more cooperative relationships between the twenty-one republics of North, South, and Central America. From the outset this proved to be no easy task. In most Central and South American countries there was deep suspicion about the aims and intentions of the United States, which up until 1933 could be characterized as mainly exploitative and interested primarily in dividing and ruling whatever regions it could. Hull bemoaned America’s “inheritance of ill will,” reflecting that “it was probated under the name of intervention. . . . Piled high on political antagonism was economic resentment. The high tariffs of the previous administration, coupled with the panic of 1929, had brought grave economic distress to the Latin American countries.”2 America’s problems had rippled down to its southern neighbors and compounded already simmering resentments toward policies that were perceived as paternalistic and self-interested.
The United States faced not only deep suspicion from the countries of Latin America, but also divisions among them. Many Latin American countries felt deep mutual suspicion toward one another. Hull, as a result, intended to foster the development of confidence, friendliness, and cooperation between the Latin American nations.3 This was a lofty aim.
Perhaps no Latin American rivalry was as intense as that between Brazil and its neighbor Argentina, both of which vied for military, economic, and political domination of the continent. Their rivalry was based on historical conflicts over territories; the states had achieved independence from Portugal and Spain, respectively, and the colonial tensions that had dominated relations between those two European countries tainted Argentine-Brazilian relations, as well. Brazil, for instance, did not settle its long-running disputes over the shared border between the two states until the start of the twentieth century. Both countries remained competitive during the 1930s, their defense policies reflecting their traditional suspicion of one another. This suspicion also colored both nations’ foreign policy, and circumscribed America’s diplomacy toward them. Any move by the United States to help Argentina was viewed with deep suspicion by the government in Brazil, which assumed that American aid to the Argentines was detrimental to Brazilian interests. Needless to say, the Argentine government harbored the same assumptions.
A key American intelligence report succinctly explained Brazil’s problems with Argentina in the 1930s. It argued:
In the last few years Brazilians have expressed concern regarding Argentine designs on their territory . . . Argentina was considered the most powerful of Latin American nations. Brazil’s vast and underdeveloped hinterland and its heterogeneous population were regarded as a source of weakness rather than strength. Argentina was more wealthy; its centers of population and production were more compact and closely knit together; and its inhabitants, overwhelmingly white, enjoyed a higher standard of living than did most Brazilians. Many observers considered Argentina’s armed forces, particularly the Navy, to be by far the best in South America.4
The major fear in Brazil during the pre–World War II years was that Argentina would use the growing Nazi influence in the country as a pretext to strengthen its military and mount a military campaign against Brazil. There were good grounds for Brazil’s fears; Argentine political culture during this period was strongly nationalistic, and the country’s armed forces were extremely pro-German and looking to expand Argentine influence in the region. Faced with the very real possibility of Argentine military aggression, ranging from military skirmishes along the Argentine-Brazilian border to a full-scale invasion of Brazil by Argentine forces, Brazil’s leaders sought practical ways to counter the Argentine threat. Naturally, this included talking up the Argentine threat with outside powers, particularly Great Britain and—increasingly—the United States.
President Roosevelt was receptive to news of the strong and potentially destabilizing internal rivalries between the American republics, as well as to the perceived pro-German sympathies of some of them. The day after President Roosevelt’s inauguration speech, Adolf Hitler and the Nazi party were elected across the ocean in Germany, winning 52 percent of the vote in the German parliamentary elections. The electoral victory helped entrench Hitler in power and led to a more openly expansionist German foreign policy.5 The impact of Hitler’s consolidation of power, however, was not confined to the European continent. It was well known that Argentina was pro-German; the British and the Americans were worried that Brazil was, too. The central aim of the Good Neighbor Program was therefore to enhance US security by safeguarding the region from hostile foreign influence. The Good Neighbor Program, as a result, was characterized primarily by efforts in Washington to check the advances made in the region by Germany and Italy. Yet in the years prior to World War II, Cordell Hull and, following his appointment in 1937, the undersecretary of state, Sumner Welles, failed to achieve the lofty goals of the program. Much of this failure came down to factors that the United States could not control.
Germany was keen to develop ties with Latin American nations, especially Brazil, where it saw major possibilities for trade. Using a complex scheme of compensation marks, Brazil developed strong commercial ties with Berlin that it would not otherwise have been able to afford.6 All of this proved to be extremely frustrating to the United States and Great Britain, which hitherto had been the major trading partners with Brazil.7 Germany appeared to be willing to go much further than the United States or Great Britain in using trade links to help further its political influence in Brazil.
Germany’s massive program of rearmament, which was intended primarily to develop the German armed forces into the most powerful on continental Europe, raised the possibility of arms sales from Berlin to Brazil. This was an extremely enticing prospect for the leaders of the Brazilian military, who were keen to develop their nation’s armed forces in order to counter any aggression from Argentina. Germany appeared willing to supply Brazil with high-quality weapons. Great Britain remained steadfastly opposed to allowing German weapons to reach Brazil, primarily due to fears that arms shipments would help entrench the alleged pro-Nazi sentiments held by the officer ranks in the Brazilian armed forces. Yet Great Britain could not offer its own weapons to the Brazilians. In London, a policy of appeasing the Germans was still in force. Individuals who were calling for rearmament, such as Winston Churchill, were in the minority. Even if Great Britain wished to supply Brazil with arms (and given concerns over Brazil’s political leanings, that was unlikely), it had no spare weapons to sell.
The United States, while not as worried about the arms question as the British, became extremely concerned about the attempts of both Germany and Italy to foster ties with the large German and Italian immigrant communities in Brazil
. As the situation in Europe grew ever more tense in the late 1930s, the American embassy in Rio de Janeiro fretted: “The Italian and German governments have made in recent years a determined attempt to organize the Italian and German colonies in Brazil and to inspire the most ardent loyalty among their nationals, not only to the fatherland but to the present political regimes now functioning in Italy and Germany.”8 The possibility of a second, overtly pro-Axis power in South America was beginning to look frighteningly real.
In Washington the State Department noted that, in many ways, Brazil’s Italian and German immigrant communities represented all that was wrong with the country. The immigrants lived in closed communities in the south of the country and their children were educated in foreign schools in German or Italian.9 Both immigrant groups, however, were influential in local business, particularly in aviation and in commerce. Daily German- and Italian-language newspapers brought local and international news to these immigrant groups.10
President Roosevelt set out in 1933 to foster closer ties between the nations of Latin America and the United States. The trouble with Brazil was that the country’s internal divisions were so strong that it made Roosevelt’s goal nearly impossible to achieve. As Getúlio Vargas’s recent election illustrated, power in Brazil rested in its states; the federal government was rather weak. Political instability was rife, and more often than not power changed hands at the end of a gun rather than at the ballot box. Fragmented and lurching from one direction to another, Brazil needed a leader who could command widespread support and would therefore have the time and opportunity to order and transform the country.
In an effort to illustrate the change in American policy toward Brazil since 1933, President Roosevelt visited the country in November 1936. Huge crowds greeted him on his arrival in Rio de Janeiro, where President Vargas received him with full honors. Brazilian warships, along with ancient-looking planes from the air force, guided the US president’s ship into harbor.
At the conclusion of his visit, President Roosevelt was full of praise for Vargas and “the great republic of Brazil.” In a speech following a banquet held in his honor, he invited the diners to join him in toasting the Brazilian president, saying, “I am leaving you tonight with great regret. There is one thing, however, that I shall remember, and that is that it was two people who invented the New Deal—the president of Brazil and the president of the United States.”11
Roosevelt’s connection of Vargas to his famed US economic program was a nice touch, and one that Vargas greatly appreciated. In addition to highlighting Vargas’s work transforming Brazil since he came to power in 1930, Roosevelt meant to flatter Vargas and to inspire him to do more to industrialize Brazil. Despite his own ambitions—and due, in part, to deep internal divisions in Brazil—Vargas had achieved only modest transformations of the state by 1936.
President Roosevelt’s visit was portrayed in Brazil and the United States as a huge success, and was credited with generating mutual goodwill between the countries. In truth, however, the visit changed little. While it was clear that the Brazilian people held a deep affection for Roosevelt, Brazilians continued to harbor deep suspicions about America’s intentions in Latin America.
A more somber analysis of Brazil and Latin America came from Cordell Hull, who traveled with President Roosevelt to Brazil and subsequently to Argentina for the Conference of the American Republics, which involved all the countries of the American continent. Hull would later write:
The Latin America I now visited differed from the Latin America I saw just three years before, because Axis penetration had made rapid, alarming headway under various guises. For many months we had received reports from our representatives in the countries to the south of us, which added together, created a picture of threatening colors. Nazi Germany, in particular, was making intensive efforts to gain the ascendency among our neighbors, but Italy and Japan were working feverishly as well.12
To an American visitor such as Hull, it seemed painfully clear that fascists, Nazis, and other Axis sympathizers would soon be on the US doorstep if nothing was done to stop them.
Confirmation of Hull’s fears appeared to come the following year in Brazil when President Vargas cancelled scheduled elections, banned political parties, suspended the constitution, and declared the Estado Novo. In a speech to the nation on November 10, 1937, Vargas explained the reasoning behind his actions. He argued that the political situation in Brazil had become unmanageable and that, after consulting key members of the Brazilian state (a clear reference to the military leadership), he had no choice but to take action.13 Vargas acknowledged it was “an exceptional decision . . . over and above ordinary government decisions,” but insisted that it was his duty as the Brazilian head of state.14
On the surface, it looked like the establishment of the Estado Novo would push Brazil further into the orbit of the Germans. There were, however, marked ideological differences between the Brazilian and German systems. The Estado Novo of Brazil and its resulting government resembled the Estado Novo of Portugal, the old colonial ruler of Brazil, and both systems lacked the strong militaristic trappings of the Nazis. Still, the United States was increasingly concerned over the Vargas regime’s attitude toward Jewish immigrants in the south of the country. Reports of anti-Semitic attacks on Jews and Jewish property in Brazil were growing. And while perhaps not directly involved, it was clear that the Brazilian authorities were doing very little to prevent such assaults.15
The Roosevelt administration chose to ignore the plight of the Jews in Brazil and focus on geostrategic issues alone. The Good Neighbor Program, after all, called for the United States not to intervene in the internal politics of a Latin American state, and Roosevelt had no intention of reneging on that promise. The United States was much more interested in the external political orientation of Brazil. Following the establishment of the Estado Novo, key figures in the Vargas administration reassured Washington that Brazil would not shift toward the Axis powers and away from the United States. On the contrary, Brazil wished to continue to develop trading ties with the United States, as well as with the Axis powers. Believing it had a firm handle on the new regime in Brazil, the US State Department brushed aside concerns over the pro-Nazi orientation of the key leaders of the Brazilian military.
While he worked to soothe the Americans, Vargas also moved quickly to consolidate his own power. In his speech to the nation on November 10, most of his rationale for the establishment of the Estado Novo centered on the threat of a communist takeover in Brazil. Known as the Cohen Plan (its name a testament to the latent anti-Semitism in the country’s power structure), the threat was exaggerated by the military, which forged several documents to support its assessment. In reality, after the failed communist plot of 1935 and the arrest of the main plotters, the communists were not in any position to mount a second putsch. Rather, Vargas’s new authoritarian constitution was a response to a different and more troubling threat—not from the far left, but rather from the far right.
Though in the past conservatives had been strong supporters of President Vargas and his regime, they were now proving to be its most dangerous opponents. Vargas had to act quickly if he was to avert the same sort of coup that had brought him to power. Less than a month after the establishment of the Estado Novo, he signed a decree disbanding all political parties. Included in this list was the fascist party, the Ação Integralista Brasileira (AIB), better known locally as the Integralistas. Vargas had turned to this group for support in his previous campaigns, but with the banning of all political parties under the Estado Novo, he turned against them.
Unsurprisingly, the leadership of the Integralistas felt betrayed, and carefully plotted revenge against their onetime ally. Supporters of the Integralistas included several leading members of the armed forces—especially the Brazilian navy, where they were particularly strong. They also had links to fascist Italy and Nazi Germany, and their leaders were
directly in touch with the Nazis—seeking help to remove Vargas from power.
On a balmy evening in Rio de Janeiro in May 1938, the Integralistas made their move against the president and his family. The subsequent drama, which unfolded within the beautiful grounds of the presidential palace in Rio de Janeiro, would prove important not only for Brazil as a nation but also for Brazilian relations with the United States and Brazil’s attitude toward the onrushing world war itself. Indeed, given the links that the leadership of the Integralistas enjoyed with Germany and Italy, the events that evolved in the presidential palace that evening could not possibly have been confined to Brazil’s internal politics. The stakes could not have been higher.
Part One: Prelude to War
1 The Key
Alzira Vargas do Amaral Peixoto possessed such natural beauty and strong vitality that she was sexually alluring to almost every man she met. Like her father, she was not tall, but her fine chiseled cheekbones, elegant widow’s peak, full sensual mouth, and piercing dark eyes more than made up for her lack of height. It was Alzira’s smile, however, that disarmed most men. It was a smile that came from both the eyes and the mouth, lighting up rooms and raising the spirits of even the most hardened military and political men—both those in Brazil itself, and those who hailed from beyond its sunny shores. When he was in a gay mood, Getúlio Vargas, president of Brazil, beamed backed at her with the look of absolute joy that parents reserve for their favorite child.
Brazil : The Fortunes of War (9780465080700) Page 2
