• • •
Everywhere I went that afternoon, I was hailed as a hero in Peru. Crowds lined our motorcade routes and shouted down the few hecklers who dared to show up. At a luncheon attended by Peru’s leading businessmen, bankers, and industrialists I was able to speak with added force of the responsibilities of modern capitalism. I emphasized that it was the duty of a nation’s business leaders to work positively to close the great gap between the very wealthy and the very poor in Peru and other South American countries. I told them it was not only wrong but dangerous to repeat today the mistakes some of the practitioners of free enterprise had been guilty of fifty years ago. Offering nothing more to the people than a defense of the status quo opens the way for Communist propaganda and infiltration. The business and political leaders of Latin America must demonstrate not only that they are against Communism because it denies freedom but also that they are for freedom because it provides a surer and better way to economic progress than Communism. In private conferences with government leaders, I was able to point out the fallacy of trying to appease Communists and of thinking of them as harmless radicals.
Later in the afternoon, I had the biggest press conference of my South American tour up to that time. I tried to spell out the true nature of the Communist conspiracy and the danger that even a few Communist agitators present to a free institution. My most telling point was that at San Marcos University probably no more than 200 trained agitators had led a demonstration of 2,000 students which had brought disgrace upon the whole of Peru. “I do not leave Peru with the idea that these demonstrators represent anything but a very small, though vocal, minority opinion,” I said.
“The Communists who manipulated this outrage are not true Peruvians because like all who owe loyalty to that international conspiracy, they can never be loyal to this or any country. They proved this when they tore up the Peruvian as well as the American flag on the floral wreath I placed at the monument to San Martín.
“Their actions were not directed against me personally,” I said. “When one of them spit in my face, he was spitting on the good name of Peru, he was spitting on the reputation of San Marcos, one of Latin America’s greatest universities, and he was spitting on the memory of San Martín and all the men who through the ages have fought and died for freedom of expression.” When the press conference ended, the Peruvian reporters stood and applauded.
The tide had so turned on the Communists that a scheduled anti-American demonstration against my appearance in the port area was canceled two hours before I spoke there. A large crowd of stevedores and other working men applauded and cheered as I emphasized again that the mob violence at San Marcos had unmasked the ugly face of Communism as it really was.
It was very late in the afternoon before I returned to my hotel room. By this time the emotional, physical, and mental stress under which I had been working during the day had really taken its toll. I was exhausted. I didn’t think I had enough energy left to change clothes and get cleaned up for the formal dinner I was to attend that evening.
The major crisis of the day was over. But I was to learn again a lesson I should have borne in mind from my previous experience-not before or during but after the battle comes the period of greatest danger for an individual in a crisis situation. In battle an individual is able to mobilize emotional, mental, and physical resources far beyond his expectations. He does not feel tired no matter how great the stress. The layman’s way of putting it is probably pretty close to the mark even from a scientific standpoint—“a man at such a time runs on his nerve.” But once the battle is ended, a price is paid in emotional, mental, and physical fatigue.
I was feeling this kind of fatigue when I asked Bob Cushman to give me a rundown on the reaction to the San Marcos incident. He replied that all reports were favorable, except that Rubottom and Bernbaum had expressed concern that the episode had embarrassed the Peruvian Government and had compromised the good-will effect of the entire tour.
I blew my stack. I told Cushman to have Rubottom and Bernbaum come to my room immediately. He reported back that they were dressing for the state dinner that evening and would come when finished. I told him to have them come at once as they were. A few minutes later the two men appeared before me, half dressed. I ripped into them. I told them it was their right and obligation before a decision was made to advise me against the San Marcos visit. But once I had made my decision in a matter of this importance, it was incumbent upon them, as key members of my staff, to put aside their objections and to support me. I reminded them that I always expressed my viewpoints in Cabinet and National Security Council meetings, but if President Eisenhower’s decision differed from my advice, as sometimes it did, I supported his decision fully. No loyal staff member could do otherwise.
This, in itself, might not have been too bad, but then I proceeded to deliver a tough lecture on some of my attitudes toward foreign service people in general: too many foreign service men, according to my experience, prefer to compromise, to avoid conflict, to play it safe. This may seem the safe way out when the Communists threaten, bully, or bluff, but this kind of conduct will, in the end, only lead to inevitable defeat for the forces of freedom. The Communists are out to win the world. They are probing at any weak spot they detect in the non-Communist world. They are willing to take chances to gain their objectives. It is essential, therefore, that those who represent the United States recognize that we will be doomed to defeat in the world struggle unless we are willing to risk as much to defend freedom as the Communists are willing to risk to destroy it.
“I am not suggesting that our representatives should be rash,” I told them, “that they should go looking for trouble, that they should not exhaust every possible avenue for honorable compromise of differences. But I do know that we are up against opponents who are out to beat us, not just hold their own. We, too, must play to win. Too often what we try to do is to play not to lose. What we must do is to act like Americans and not put our tails between our legs and run every time some Communist bully tries to bluff us.”
What I said in the heat of anger, I still believe to be basically true. But it was unfair for me to say it to either Rubottom or Bernbaum. Both were as dedicated to the national interest as I was. If we had conflicting views on any matters, I respected them for their honesty and integrity in presenting their differences of opinion. To their credit, neither man ever evidenced any resentment over my outburst of temper. They worked as hard during the remainder of our grueling trip and after it as they had before.
• • •
Our visits to Ecuador and Colombia during the next four days were a pleasant and welcome interlude after two action-packed days in Peru. It was evident in both countries that the Communist leaders had been knocked off balance by what had happened in Peru. They didn’t know exactly how to handle my visit and now they were regrouping their forces looking for a good chance to counterattack. Everywhere I went large crowds of well-wishers shouted down the few hecklers who appeared.
In Quito, Galo Plaza, the former President of Ecuador, told me that I had made the right decision in going to the University not only in Peru but in other countries I had visited. “One of the great troubles with Americans who are stationed abroad,” he said, “is that they talk only to themselves and to the few business and government leaders of the countries in which they are stationed. The great majority of them live in ‘American ghettos.’ I can understand their reluctance to move in circles which are different and foreign to their background. But American government officials, in particular, when in foreign countries should spend more time on a social as well as a formal basis with students, teachers, labor leaders and opinion makers who may not be members of the elite but who are the future leaders of the hemisphere.”
In Colombia I was greatly impressed by the knowledge and understanding of Alberto Lleras who had just been elected President of the country. Here, as in Argentina, the members of the military junta who had overthrown the dictato
r, Rojas Pinilla, were men of outstanding quality. After my talk with them I realized why those who say we should withdraw all support of military forces in Latin America and concentrate our aid completely on economic projects would play right into the Communists’ hands. It is true that the military assistance our Latin American allies could provide in the event of war would be nominal. At best such forces could maintain only internal security. But what we must realize is that the military of Latin America is a great stabilizing force and includes some of the ablest and most dedicated leaders in the hemisphere. While military leaders can be a threat to freedom, where they use their power to impose and support dictatorship, more and more of them are using their power and prestige to support free governments. A free government without strong military support would not last a month in a Latin American country against the highly-trained subversive cadres maintained by the Communists.
The aftermath of San Marcos also was gratifying. A flood of “well done” messages from officials and individuals came to us by cable, letter, and telephone. Chris Herter read President Eisenhower’s wire to me over the plane’s radio telephone on our flight from Peru to Ecuador. “Dear Dick. Your courage, patience, and calmness in the demonstration directed against you by radical agitators have brought you a new respect and admiration in our country.” Clare Boothe Luce summed up the general tenor of the messages in her one word wire, “Bully.”
We tried to call our two girls at home by radio telephone on this flight but were unable to make connections. We learned later that they had heard of the Lima riots for the first time when Tricia turned on the radio when she and Julie had come home from school for lunch. She immediately called Loie Gaunt at my office in Washington and said, “What are they doing to Daddy and Mommy in South America?” This was the first news my office staff received of the incident.
In Lima, the government finally cracked down on the Communist operation there. The student federation at San Marcos University issued a formal communique condemning the violence and insisting that outsiders, not students, were responsible for the “barbaric acts.” At a concert of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra in Lima four days after the incident, Leonard Bernstein told me later, the entire audience stood and applauded for several minutes the playing of the Star Spangled Banner.
In Ecuador and Colombia, we learned of several elaborate plans for Communist demonstrations but in each case they failed to materialize or fizzled like a wet firecracker.
As our plane took off from Bogota, it never occurred to me that the next day I would face death in the midst of a wild mob in Caracas, Venezuela, where Communist leaders had been preparing their revenge.
“The Central Intelligence Agency advises the Secret Service in Washington that information has been received relating to rumors of a plot to assassinate the VP in Venezuela.” This message came from U. E. Baughman, Chief of the Secret Service, and was relayed to me by Sherwood two days before we were scheduled to reach Caracas, the capital of Venezuela.
Since the violence in Lima, Sherwood, as agent in charge of the detail of Secret Service escorting me, kept in constant radio-telephonic contact with his Washington headquarters. We had been alerted for possible disturbances in Ecuador and Colombia which had not materialized. Whenever any top-ranking government official visits a foreign country, there are the usual rumors and reports of assassination plots of the crackpot variety. While each one is investigated, such reports must be taken in stride. Since the cold war began, Moscow radio and the whole Soviet propaganda machine had blasted away at each and every good-will mission undertaken by President Eisenhower or myself. For days before I left Washington for my trip to South America and throughout the tour, Moscow radio joined Communist-controlled radio stations in South America in condemning the tour and trying to inflame public sentiment against me.
The report of an assassination plot in Venezuela came with a whole sheaf of background intelligence messages. But it was backed up with a report from Frank M. Barry, a former Secret Service agent who had become a principal adviser on security matters for Nicaragua. He sent word that his private intelligence sources had reported that a huge anti-American demonstration was being organized by a Communist-led student group in Caracas with an assassination attempt as the highlight of the plan. The day before we took off from Bogota for Caracas, I questioned Sherwood in detail with regard to these reports. Were these the regular run of rumors and threats? Or were they more serious? Sherwood’s answer was that in either event we should and would take every precaution, especially in view of what had already happened in Lima.
He arranged to have the advance Secret Service agents, who had preceded us to Ecuador and Colombia to check security there, go on to Caracas rather than return to Washington as was customary. Thus we would have a twelve-man detail of Secret Service agents in Caracas while I was there instead of the usual three or four. At the same time, the U. S. Embassy in Caracas was told to prod the Venezuelan authorities into double-checking their security arrangements and to keep us posted. We received periodic reports from the Embassy up to the time we landed in Caracas and each one stated that the Venezuelan Government foresaw no serious trouble and was prepared to deal with any incidents which might arise.
On the eve of my departure for Caracas, the reporters traveling with me learned of the assassination reports and asked me for comment. I told them that such rumors were “just one of those things” which had occurred many times in the past and that I would not be frightened away by such obvious threats.
Actually, I had sent word that the Venezuelan Government should clearly understand that they were free to withdraw their invitation if they felt at all unable to handle the security arrangements incumbent upon the host country. The night before our departure for Caracas, our Embassy there sent me this message: “Venezuelan government security agencies are confident of their ability to handle the situation but are increasing security measures to such an extent that the advance representatives feel the Vice President might believe he is being overguarded.”
My decision to go to Caracas as scheduled was not an act of “bravery.” Security arrangements there were outside my domain and I relied upon Security Service and intelligence estimates. It was far more significant to me that the State Department considered Venezuela potentially the most important stop of the entire South American tour. In January, only five months earlier, the ten-year-old dictatorship of Perez Jimenez, second only to Peron in power and entrenchment, had been overthrown by revolution. Perez Jimenez, who was probably the most hated dictator in all of Latin America, had fled with his despised Chief of Secret Police, Pedro Estrada, to exile in the United States.
Our government, which does not believe that deposed rulers, no matter how despicable, should be put before firing squads without trial, granted the men sanctuary. This was meat for the Communist propaganda grinder and placed the United States in what is called a diplomatically delicate position. The Communist and nationalist elements in Caracas had been flatly equating the United States with the oppressions of the Perez Jimenez regime. We were in a position of having to explain how we could grant sanctuary to two men without approving of them or their actions, and to demonstrate that we believed in democracy and preferred the new ruling junta in Venezuela over the past regime. Even that is a simplification of why the State Department considered a good-will visit from the Vice President of the United States to Venezuela so important for establishing a new, abiding relationship with the ruling five-man junta.
The Junta Patriotica, a temporary coalition government pending the promised open and free elections, included representatives of the Communist Party. This accorded the Communists power and influence beyond their actual number in the country. They wielded their power through various student organizations and through the nation’s press. According to my briefing papers, the Communists had infiltrated every daily newspaper in Caracas except one run by the Catholic Church and one English language paper. On the list of “distinguished perso
nalities” invited by the Venezuelan Government to a luncheon in my honor, scheduled for my first day in Caracas, were six Communists and avid pro-Communists.
There was plenty of evidence that the Communists intended to demonstrate vociferously during my visit. But Charles R. Burroughs, the Minister-Counselor of our Embassy in Venezuela, reported to me on our flight from Bogota to Caracas that there would be tremendous numbers of friendly people who also would demonstrate their warm regard for the United States. He showed me various newspaper reports about my impending visit. One which I remember was the Tribuna Popular, the Communist Party weekly. This paper contained a particularly vicious attack on the United States and a front-page photograph of me, doctored so that my teeth looked like fangs and my face like that of a war-mongering fiend. I was to see that retouched photograph on hundreds of placards during my two-day visit to Caracas.
Yet, at the time, neither our Embassy staff nor our intelligence people in Venezuela were able to discover that the Communist high command in South America had made a high-level decision to regain the ground they had lost in Lima by mounting a massive pay-off demonstration in Caracas. It was the scope of the effort which our people failed to assess properly.
Security arrangements in Caracas were checked and rechecked through the night prior to my arrival. At midnight, eleven hours before my plane was to put down at the Caracas airport, our Embassy advised that the government authority had “everything under control.” A rumor of a plot to poison me had caused a switch in the caterer for the buffet reception in my honor. At 3 A.M. Sherwood got final word: the Caracas authorities had made still another check of security arrangements and they definitely wanted me to come.
As we flew from Bogota to Caracas that morning, I did not expect my visit to Venezuela to be a picnic. I knew there might be some incidents. But I didn’t think anything could top what I had been through in Lima.
Six Crises Page 28
