Simon Bolivar
Page 40
Sucre bowed once more to his fate and planned how best to confront the Peruvians. He had to decide between a strike against their ally Obando lurking on the Pasto frontier and a campaign in the south against the main enemy. Then he had to avoid the rain and floods surrounding Guayaquil, and chose a site suitable for battle and for supplies. He designed his campaign expertly around the plain of Tarqui, stationing Flores and his army at Cuenca and withdrawing Illingsworth from Guayaquil to conduct guerrilla operations from Daule to the north. Sucre joined the Colombian army at Cuenca on 27 January, and on 21 February at Tarqui led his force of fifteen hundred and a cavalry squadron against five thousand enemy infantry.17 Some of the latent tensions among Bolívar’s commanders surfaced at Tarqui, and at one point in the battle o’Leary was caught between obeying Sucre or Flores in ordering his battalion to advance.18 After two hours of fighting, the Peruvians suffered fifteen hundred killed and a thousand more in wounded prisoners and fugitives. Another victory for Sucre and another exemplary peace: in accordance with his strict ideas of justice rather than retribution, he simply insisted in the Convention of Girón (28 February) that a treaty would be made after the Peruvian troops had evacuated Colombian territory. Sucre left the army under the command of Flores and returned to Quito, reporting to Bolívar that the campaign, and indeed the war, was over. He was tired and the only reward he wanted was to be relieved of his command and all public office. ‘A campaign of thirty days by the army of the south has swept away the two–year menace from Peru, and a battle of two hours was sufficient for our 1,500 troops to overcome all the forces of Peru.’19 His inner thoughts were not so sanguine. The Tarqui campaign had confirmed his worst fears for the political stability of Colombia and his alarm at the growing indiscipline among the military, convictions which strengthened his affiliation with the Liberator in a search for strong government.20
Bolívar received Sucre’s request for retirement as he neared Pasto. He too feared for Colombia as he faced another crisis, and in a mood of pessimism he wrote in his inimitable style a new political paper as a press release and for circulation to his collaborators. ‘There is no good faith in America, nor among the nations of America. Treaties are scraps of paper; constitutions, mere books; elections, battles; freedom, anarchy; and life, a torment.’ Where had Americans gone wrong? ‘You fell in love with freedom, and were dazzled by her potent charms. But, since freedom is as dangerous as beauty in women, whom all seduce and desire out of love or vanity, you have not kept her as innocent and pure as when she descended from Heaven. Power, the born enemy of human rights, has excited personal ambition in all classes of the state.’21
Sombre Thoughts from Guayaquil
In Pasto, having reached a deal with Obando, Bolívar learned of Sucre’s victory at Tarqui and his request for retirement. He knew it would be premature to demobilize, for he did not trust the Peruvians and he was not convinced that he had heard the last from Pasto. In April he rode on to Quito to meet Sucre. After a separation of over three years, it was an emotional meeting. He granted Sucre’s wish to be relieved of office and respected the family’s desire to be left in peace while they awaited their first child. But the south still needed a firm hand, for his suspicions of the Peruvians soon proved to be correct: they ignored the Girón convention, failed to evacuate Guayaquil and preferred the way of war. He summoned Córdova’s division from Popayán but took command personally; there was only one Sucre and Bolívar did not regard Flores or Córdova as qualified to succeed him. o’Leary was sent to report on the south to ministers in Bogotá.
Bolívar decided to remain in Ecuador while the situation was insecure and in June made his way to Guayaquil, still the leader and still a warrior. In the event he did not have to fight. Gamarra overthrew La Mar’s government in early June and exiled La Mar to Guatemala, where he died, unlamented by Bolívar, who described him as ‘a man in a donkey–skin, with the claws of a tiger and an insatiable lust for American blood’.22 Bolívar unsettled the Peruvians in his menacing mood as he led his forces expertly towards their defences. They concluded that war with Colombia was too costly to justify, and a major battle with Bolívar something to avoid: better to come to terms. Comissioners arranged an armistice in Piura, signed by Gamarra on 10 July; Peru would return Guayaquil to Colombia after Bolívar signed the armistice. The peace treaty was eventually signed on 22 September. On 21 July Bolívar entered Guayaquil, to demonstrations of joy from the people and no doubt a warm welcome from the young women of the Garaycoa family. Sucre warned him not to trust the ‘perfidious’ Gamarra, but the peace seemed to hold. Mariana gave birth to a daughter, Teresita, on 10 July, which Sucre reported to Bolívar almost with apologies that he did not have a son to serve his country as a soldier. He himself no longer wanted a military command but neither was he prepared to leave Colombia to the mercy of the liberals, and he presented himself for election to the constituent congress. As the news came in from his generals and friends throughout Colombia, the Liberator faced challenges of his own.
In Guayaquil Bolívar fell seriously ill, suffering from symptoms that he described as a liver complaint but in fact were a worsening of his not yet diagnosed tubercular condition. Colombia’s demons returned to torment him and he saw a great anarch stalking the land. Days of disillusion stretched ahead. He returned to a decision made more than once in recent years, that the time had come to resign his office and retire from public affairs. His collaborators had heard the refrain before and this time Sucre responded with some dismay and impatience, for it left present policies and future prospects in suspense. To abandon the country in the current crisis when he is most needed, Sucre reproached him, would be regarded as desertion and leave a stain on his career:
A time may come to silence your slanderers; but the best action now and one which every reasonable person would approve is to constitute the country and to set its affairs on a stable and solid course. Nothing else is worthy of you. To retire when so many dangers threaten the country, simply to prove your disinterestedness, is a measure foreign to your character; and, frankly speaking, it will be looked upon by the world as a mere trick, so that in the subsequent conflict of parties, when a thousand knives may tear the patria apart, you might be called back as the saviour and the conciliator.23
With Sucre around Bolívar would never want for straight talking. In August, weary of power and disillusioned with constitutions, Bolívar floated an idea to o’Leary for passing to the legislators in Bogotá. The proposal was that he should be a roving presence, alongside the president, a kind of troubleshooter and enforcer in one, bringing peace and freedom to Colombia and further glory to himself. ‘By God, o’Leary, for Colombia and for me, propose this idea and suggest it to the legislators and to everyone.’24 Was he joking? It was hard to tell with Bolívar.
Irony, however, was his forte. To Mosquera he bemoaned the current popularity of federalism, but if that was what the people wanted let them have it. ‘They don’t want a monarchy, or life–presidency, much less an aristocracy. So why don’t they try anarchy, a noisy and happy ocean to drown in? It is very popular and could well be the best solution, because it conforms to my own maxim, the Sovereign has to be infallible.’25 ‘People have no right to crucify me,’ he added, ‘and if it were only the cross I would patiently suffer it as the last of my agonies. Jesus Christ endured 33 years of this mortal life; my own has lasted over 46, and the worst is that I am not an impassive God; if I were I could bear it for all eternity.’
In Guayaquil he had to take to his bed from 2 to 13 August, and then he remained weak. By the end of August he obtained a country house on a small island on the River Guayas, about a mile from the city, and claimed he was making a good recovery.26 However, unable to accept that a hitherto active life should be reduced to apathy and inertia, he opened his mind to o’Leary, revealing his personal and political anxieties in one of his frankest letters, reminiscent of his historic statements.27 Now he was serious. He presented himself after twenty years’
continuous service as physically finished, prematurely old, having nothing left to offer and – with pathetic optimism – ‘with only four to six years to live’. As for political prospects, some were good: they had defeated Peru and vanquished the anarchists at home. But what would happen when the present administrators had passed their prime and his own authority was no more? The sheer size of Colombia demanded a prompt answer to prevent the threatened catastrophe, and he could foresee only two, neither of them good for the country:
Royal authority or general confederation are the only forms suitable for ruling this vast region. I cannot even conceive of the possibility of establishing a kingdom in a country which is essentially democratic. The lower and most numerous classes claim their prerogatives, to which they have incontestable rights. Equality before the law is indispensable where physical inequality exists, in order that the injustices of nature can, in some measure, be corrected. Moreover, who would be king in Colombia? No one, as I see it.
Warning of the consequences of monarchy – a new form of tyranny, expensive government, a new aristocracy – he scornfully dismissed this ‘chimera’. And he still had no time for the federal form of government. ‘such a system is no more than organized anarchy, or, at best a law that implicitly decrees the obligation to dissolve and ruin the state with all its members. It would be better, I think, for South America to adopt the Koran rather than the United States’ form of government, although the latter is the best in the world.’ Colombia is so large and its people so ignorant that its institutions need more power than is offered by the European model, but in fact they are hardly sufficient to rule a single province:
The Constituent Congress must choose one of two courses, the only ones available in the present situation: 1) The separation of New Granada and Venezuela. 2) The creation of a strong life–term government. … Colombia must forget her illusions and make her decisions, for I cannot rule any longer. These are the facts and we must face the difficulties. What will Congress do to appoint my successor? Will he be New Granadan or Venezuelan? An army man or a civilian? … Are the military always to rule by the sword? Will not the civilian population complain of the despotism of the soldiers? I admit that the existing Republic cannot be governed except by the sword, and at the same time I must agree that the military spirit is incompatible with civilian rule. Congress will be forced to return to the question of dividing the country, because whoever they select their choice of a president will always be questioned.
There remained no other way for Colombia but to organize, as best it could, a centralized system duly proportionate to the size of its territory and the character of its inhabitants.
At the end of September 1829, the peace treaty with Peru concluded, Bolívar left Guayaquil and rode slowly north, thinking back on his letter to o’Leary and still pondering his future. ‘I am serious in what I said to you, though I leave it unsaid, I mean secret.’ On the journey his preoccupations grew. o’Leary was in Medellín quelling a rebellion when he received the fateful letter of 13 September. Bolívar’s melancholy saddened him and he implored his leader not to give up; in spite of all the traitors in the years since 1826 there had been many loyal followers, and he still had widespread support among the people. o’Leary was determined to crush the remnants of rebellion in the gold fields of the Chocó, ‘for we have to cut the throats of all those infamous blacks’.28
Monarchist Friends, Republican Enemies
When o’Leary arrived in Bogotá at the end of April 1829 he found two women in the news: Manuela, who was living an active social life and attracting foreign diplomats to her parties, and La Nicolasa, Santander’s mistress, who in the aftermath of her lover’s disgrace was agitating to be expelled on her own account and leave as a martyr rather than an adulterous partner of the former vice–president.29 More ominously he discovered that the government was actively pursuing a plan to establish a monarchy and was involved in discussions on the project with the French and British representatives. He kept Bolívar informed of these developments as well as of the gossip. Some ministers told him that republican institutions had failed the country, that the attempt to assassinate Bolívar had shocked everyone, and that a radical change was necessary. ‘They told me that there was no idea of consulting General Bolívar until affairs were in a more advanced state, as they dreaded that he would discountenance the plan.’ Páez had been consulted and was hostile to the idea, but he recommended delay for the present. Briceño Méndez and Soublette were both strongly opposed, predicting that it would simply give Bolívar’s enemies in Venezuela a pretext for revolution. Montilla was also of the opinion that the time was not opportune. Liberals, of course, were outraged. But the ministers rashly persisted in the enterprise, and Urdaneta was one of the strongest supporters. It was not intended that Bolívar be crowned or retired, but would remain head of government with the title of Liberator, and after his death a foreign prince would succeed. o’Leary never understood whether the idea of monarchy originated in Bogotá or had been imported, but by early September he was reporting that the project was now taken for granted in Bogotá with no observable opposition. He himself seems to have been persuaded by the arguments in favour of a monarchy: it would provide stability and security, appeal to the military and ecclesiastical elites, confound the liberals and reassure foreign investors. According to Posada Gutiérrez, ‘The members of the council of ministers were those who principally adopted the project and submitted it to public discussion in the press,’ and, he added, ‘without previous consultation with the Liberator.’30
Consultation there had been, though it was muted and inconclusive. In April 1829, while he was in Quito, Bolívar revived a suggestion he had previously promoted, that Colombia would benefit from the protection of Britain; such a possibility had been a recurring idea in his thinking on American unity and now he recommended it to his cabinet. A single pebble stirred a great lake. The ministers brought the French and British representatives into the discussion. On 8 April 1829 Restrepo informed Bolívar that the ministers were discussing a project for a constitution in preparation for the constituent congress and concluded that Spanish America needed a change of constitutional system: ‘The hereditary succession is necessary and everything follows from that. There are difficulties but they are not insuperable, counting on your support and that of the army.’ On 6 May Bolívar replied: ‘I entirely agree that it is absolutely necessary to change the constitutional system of Spanish America, so that it consolidates itself; and I also believe that although there are difficulties, they are not insurmountable.’31 Restrepo took the discussion a stage further, introducing the notion of importing a foreign prince: ‘I am glad you agree with the necessity to change constitutional forms…. There is a slight difficulty concerning the dynasty which will succeed you in office, the family of which must perpetuate the crown by succession…. It seems that we, your friends, should bring forward the scheme and that you should appear outwardly a stranger to it, though without opposing it.’ He also mentioned that the constituent congress would have to agree to the change, no doubt another ‘slight difficulty’.32
In July the news that Bolívar had decided to retire from office perplexed the ministers. How could they proceed without his cooperation? They assumed they had it. They must have a clear line from him.33 Bolívar admitted to the British chargé d’affaires, Patrick Campbell, that Campbell’s reference to the new project to nominate a European prince as his successor did not take him entirely by surprise, because something of this had been communicated to him, though obscurely and cautiously, ‘for they know my way of thinking’. But his words to Campbell were guarded and his attitude essentially diplomatic. He was not personally involved, for he was determined to resign at the next congress. He pointed out the countless difficulties and disadvantages of such a plan, the reaction of England if a Bourbon were selected. ‘Would not all the new American states, and the United States, which seem destined by Providence to plague America with miseries in the name
of Liberty, be opposed to such a plan?’ Everyone would become the enemy of poor Colombia.34 But he reserved his final opinion, reluctant to throw away an idea he had often floated himself. In his letter to o’Leary a month later he was specific: ‘I cannot even conceive of the possibility of establishing a kingdom in a country which is essentially democratic.’35
Communications were not so dire in Colombia that discussions of this kind could be kept secret. In any case Restrepo and his colleagues were committed to transparency. When the firebrand General José María Córdova heard of the monarchy project, he left Popayán for Antioquia, his native province, proclaiming liberty and denouncing Bolívar. He had been under suspicion since April when his enemy Mosquera reported that he was intriguing with the officers under his command and criticizing Bolívar and his policies.36 O’Leary stopped in Pasto on his way to Bogotá and spoke to Córdova, who had been a friend of his since Angostura days; Córdova denied that he had any intentions hostile to the Liberator but was simply speaking to colleagues, including Obando, on the prospects for Colombian unity after Bolívar. o’Leary regarded Córdova – and the regime in Pasto – as a security risk and from June his warnings to the Liberator became more urgent, at a time when the government in Bogotá was weak and only the ‘terror’ imposed by General Urdaneta maintained law and order.37 In September, in a rambling manifesto, Córdova denounced Bolívar for his absolutism: he had deceived the people of Colombia, thrown out the rights of man, terrorized the convention of Ocaña and betrayed the constitution. The rebel urged the people of Colombia to save nineteen years of sacrifice from a new slavery.38 He proclaimed that Bolívar expected to rule as though ‘he disposed of the Republic as outright owner, bound by no legitimate authority’, and that it was his duty to reject the absolute rule of Bolívar and restore the constitution of Cúcuta. News of Córdova’s rebellion reached Bogotá on the night of 25 September, the anniversary of the attempt to assassinate the Liberator. The streets were strangely deserted, either because of people’s memory of that event or from a sense of impending crisis. In the early evening o’Leary took a walk in the centre of town and saw very few people, though the weather was fine. Then the news from Medellín arrived and everything changed. The troops were put under arms, and the next day the minister of war, Urdaneta, ordered o’Leary, now a general, to lead an operational division of seven hundred troops to attack the rebels and re–establish order.