Annotations for Countries: Spain

But the censorship was broken. São Paulo's channel five television station broadcast a news flash for which it has been punished under the national security law. More daring was the weekly Opinião, which has recently been increasing sales in leaps and bounds as the only publication that dares to criticize the government. Not only did it publish a brief report on the mass, as well as the security secretary's statement, but it also gave an interview with the cardinal in which he described the people of São Paulo as living in a situation of emergency in relation to wages, health, and public security.

Nemesis for Opinião was not slow in coming. The censorship has demanded that all its material must be submitted to the sensors 48 hours before going to press, effectively making publication impossible. This week's proposed edition, which it is understood, will not be appearing, had 8 of 24 pages completely censored. The censored pages contained material on wage problems, the political situation, and Brazilian investments in Bolivia. A protest has already been made by the Inter American Press Society to the Brazilian government while the Estela de São Paulo and Jornal da Tarde, two other newspapers, have announced that they will accept no government advertising nor government announcements for publication, as a protest against censorship. The government has banned live television reporting as dangerous, and all programs must in the future be prerecorded.

"But whatever happens to the press," concludes Latin America newsletter, "The real importance of the death of Alexandre Lemi is that the church has revealed a newfound and aggressive militancy. If, as it appears, the church is now on a collision course with the government, there is little doubt who will win in the end. The government may be able to suppress a handful of left-wing terrorists, but the Christian Church has for nearly 2000 years, thrived on persecution and martyrdom and always come out on top. All the signs are that Alexandre Lemi is to be presented as a martyr of the regime." This from Latin America.

Religious militancy is also appearing in the Dominican Republic. The Miami Herald reports that the country's Roman Catholic Church has denounced that there is no respect for human life in the Dominican Republic. In an Easter message before numerous government officials at Santo Domingo's Cathedral, a bishop said, "There is no respect for human life here. Human life is worth less than a cigarette in our country." The priest charged that inhumane punishments are being inflicted on inmates in Dominican jails, and that brutal assassinations occur frequently. He added that, "Hunger and misery affect most of the people in the country."

Opinião of Rio de Janeiro reports that Pablo Picasso's death received wide coverage in the Latin press. Picasso was admired in the hemisphere not only for his painting, but for his political stance against the Franco regime in Spain. A member of the French Communist Party since 1944, Picasso once summed up his views on the relationship between art and politics while answering critics of his leftist stance.

"What do they think an artist is? An imbecile who only has eyes if he's a painter, or ears if he is a musician, or a layer in each chamber of his heart if he's a poet, or that he's simply a boxer, only muscles. On the contrary, an artist is at the same time a political being, always aware of the pains, conflagrations, or happy incidents of the world, shaping himself in their image. How could it be possible not to feel interest in other people, and because of an ivory tower of indifference, disconnect oneself from the life which they bring with such open hands? No, painting was not created to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war with which to attack the enemy and defend ourselves from him." This from Opinião.

The winds of change have been blowing in Argentina for the past six months. They have brought the return to power of Juan Domingo Perón, the 77-year-old man who, even in his 17-year absence, has controlled the largest political movement in Argentina.

Perón first came to power in 1943, as a part of a military coup. Gaining a firmer grip on power in the immediate post-war years, Perón favored significant state intervention in the economy and high import barriers to keep foreign industrial competition out and allow Argentine industry to develop. Such nationalistic policies aroused the ire of the United States, but with the help of huge export earnings due to the high world price of Argentine beef, they spurred tremendous growth in the Argentine economy.

In order to consolidate his power base, Perón mobilized Argentine masses, both by creating a huge peronist party apparatus and building the trade union movement. In the early fifties though, Argentina's post-war boom began to slacken off and Perón was weakened politically as a result. In 1955, the military stepped in and took over the government, condemning Perón to exile. In the years since Perón's downfall, the peronist Party has been prohibited from participating in Argentine elections, but the party has remained active and has cast blank votes in the elections.

These boycotts of the elections have shown that, even while in exile, Perón was and is Argentina's most popular political leader. The current series of events began last fall when the military government of Alejandro Lanusse announced it was considering allowing Perón to return to Argentina. In November, the government kept its promise and Perón flew to Buenos Aires, the nation's capital, and began negotiating with the ruling military leaders on what role his party would play in the upcoming March elections. The Argentina Perón returned to though was quite different from the Argentina Perón left 17 years ago.

Deep divisions exist in Argentina and in the peronist movement itself. Clearly the most conservative element of the peronist movement is the General Workers Confederation, the huge union apparatus set up during Perón's previous regime. Over the years, though, the General Workers Confederation has championed the cause of Perón's return, but has been noticeably timid in fighting for workers' benefits. Thus, the union leadership has gotten along well with the military governments and has virtually lost contact with the masses it ostensibly represents.

The peronist element which is responsible for much mass mobilization is the leftist Juventud peronista or a peronist Youth Group, whose socialist- sounding slogans frighten many of the old-line peronists, especially when they see the peronist Youth's ability to turn out crowds. In addition, there are peronist guerrilla groups who have added clandestine operations to their socialist platforms. Still farther to the left are the non-peronist guerrilla groups, such as the ERP, the People's Revolutionary Army, who have made it clear that they consider foreign monopolists, local oligarchs, and the armed forces, the enemies of the Argentine people.

The ERPs now famous kidnappings of foreign business executives and other operations make them a force to be dealt with in Argentine politics. It was into this political arena which Perón stepped when he began bargaining with the military in November and December.

Perón wanted to be able to run in the March presidential elections himself rather than simply a representative of his party. At this point, Perón was considered a revolutionary of sorts and was feared by the United States government and foreign businessmen. When the military refused to let Perón himself run in the elections, the disappointed leader returned to Spain and Hector Cámpora was chosen to run instead. This was considered a victory for the left wing of the peronist movement.

Since Cámpora was felt to be an ardent nationalist and an anti-imperialist when the elections were held in March, Cámpora was an easy winner and speculation began as to what kind of government could be expected when he took power on May 25th. Revolutionary guerrilla groups anticipating a friendly regime stepped up their activities in April and May. The ERP got $1 million worth of medical equipment for the poor from Ford Motor Company for the release of a kidnapped Ford executive.

Such activities caused many foreign businessmen to leave Argentina. When Cámpora and the peronist actually took power on May 25th, though it became clear that they had no intention of radically transforming Argentine society immediately. Although some boldly independent foreign policy moves were made, such as the recognition of Cuba and other socialist regimes, no sweeping domestic changes were announced. Meanwhile, popular pressures within Argentina continued to build through June.

In addition to continued guerrilla activity, government buildings and hospitals were occupied by workers demanding better wages and working conditions. Such developments did not go unanswered by the right wing forces in Argentina at a welcoming demonstration for Perón's return at a Buenos Aires airport, thugs hired by the conservative leadership of the General Workers Confederation opened fire on a peronist Youth column in the crowd. In the resulting shootout, 20 were killed and more than 200 injured. Also, the General Worker Confederation has undertaken a campaign of brutal repression against a rival union in the important industrial state of Cordoba.

The Cordoba Union has rejected a leadership of the general workers confederation and has instead defined its movement in terms of class struggle. In July, most observers were stunned when President Hector Cámpora announced that he was resigning in order to allow Perón to take the reins of power directly. Thus, new presidential elections will be held in September, and Perón is a shoo-in to win, but Perón seems to have moved significantly to the right in recent weeks in both cabinet appointments and in restructuring his party, Perón seems to have embraced conservative elements and left the more radical sectors of the peronist movement out in the cold.

Reflecting the shift, the United States has suddenly taken an about face and has endorsed Perón. It appears to many now that Peron's revolutionary statements earlier this year were simply a part of his strategy of constructing a broad populist front to isolate the military and allow him to return. However, deep divisions exist within the Argentine society and the popular forces unleashed in recent months may prove somewhat difficult to contain.

The following summary of Perón's triumph in Argentina is compiled from Excélsior. Juan Perón regained the presidency of Argentina on Sunday after an absence of 18 years. The 77-year-old Perón received almost 62% of the vote in a landslide victory. His wife Isabel was elected vice president. Perón's victory statement, according to the Associated Press, read, "I cannot say anything because the people have done it all. Now is the time for me to speak, but the time for me to act." Perón stated that he might soon make realistic changes in Argentina's economy, but the first order of business is political. After the political situation is settled, the economy will arrange itself. 

The closest runner-up in the election, Ricardo Balbín of the Radical Civic Union, received 24% of the vote. The member of the Popular Federalist Alliance, a center-right coalition, got 12% of the vote, while the Socialist Worker Party received less than 2%. 

When Perón is inaugurated October 12, he will regain the office that he lost to a military Junta in 1955. Perón came to power as part of the military coup in 1943 and was elected president of Argentina in 1946. Under his administration, workers and trade unions prospered. Workers received substantial wage increases and gained more benefits, such as paid vacations. 

The present Peronist movement is an amorphous coalition of conservatives, including the old-line trade unionists and bureaucrats, and leftists, particularly the leftist Peronist youth. This is an uneasy coalition at best, so it is no surprise that signs of a split between the two groups is already apparent. A violent confrontation occurred between the two factions in June, when Perón returned to Argentina from Spain. Shooting broke out between the Peronist youth and right-wing trade unionists, killing 20 people and causing the huge airport reception for Perón to be cancelled. 

The choice of Perón's third wife, Isabel, as the vice presidential candidate was designed to avoid factional strife, sure to result if one of the other two factions was represented in the choice of the vice presidential candidate. 

This from Excélsior of Mexico City.

From Chile itself comes the word of the death of Nobel Prize-winning poet Pablo Neruda on September 23rd. Neruda's death came just 12 days after the coup, which resulted in the death of Neruda's close friend, Salvador Allende. Neruda had been suffering from cancer. 

At Neruda's funeral on Tuesday in Santiago, a crowd of almost 2000 cheered the Chilean Communist Party, sang "The Internationale", and chanted, "With Neruda, we bury Salvador Allende". The daring left-wing demonstration was in direct defiance of the military junta. Yet even the risk of arrest could not stop the crowd from chanting, despite the heavy contingent of soldiers stationed around the mausoleum. 

Meanwhile, the New York publishing house of Farrar, Straus, and Giroux announced Thursday that the manuscripts of the poet's memoirs, as well as a number of unpublished poems written before Neruda's death, are missing. Neruda's home in Santiago has been ransacked and all his books seized. The military junta has denied responsibility and called the incident regrettable. Yet it is popularly believed that military police sacked the house in search of leftist literature and arms. 

Pablo Neruda's activism was as stronger as his lifelong commitment to poetry. Neruda's career as a poet officially began in 1924, when he published "Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair" at the age of 20. Following a tradition of long-standing, the Chilean government sent the young poet on a series of consular missions. In 1934, he was appointed counsel to Madrid. There he published the first and second series of his enormously successful work, "Residents on Earth". 

When civil war broke out in Spain in 1936, Neruda made no secret of his antifascist convictions. He used his post as counsel in Madrid to aid the Spanish loyalists. Finally, the Chilean government recalled him when his partisan behavior became simply too embarrassing. 

From then on, Neruda became progressively involved in politics. His poetry reflected the direction in which his entire life was moving, and he became a very controversial figure. Neruda later wrote of this time in his life, "Since then, I have been convinced that it is the poet's duty to take his stand along with the people in their struggle to transform society, the trading to chaos by its rulers into an orderly existence based upon political, social and economic democracy." 

After serving as counsel on Mexico for several years Neruda returned to Chile in 1943, he joined the Communist Party and decided to run for a seat in the National Senate. He was elected to the Senate in 1944 and served for five years until the conflict between the Chilean government and the Communist Party reached its peak. The party was declared illegal by an act of Congress, and Neruda was expelled from his seat. 

He made his way secretly through the country and managed to slip across the border. He lived in exile for several years traveling through Mexico, Europe, the Soviet Union, and China. In 1950, he published his "General Song". 

Neruda returned to Chile in 1953 and in that same year was awarded the Stalin Prize. He became the leading spokesman of Chile's left while continuing to write poetry prolifically. He also wrote exposes of Chilean political figures, and articles condemning US foreign policy in Latin America. In 1954, he published "The Grapes and the Wind", which contained a great deal of political verse. 

In 1971, he was awarded the Nobel Prize for poetry. Neruda strongly condemned US economic policies in Latin America. He felt that the United States used its dominance over the Latin American countries to finance US national security ventures and to supply US industrial needs, all at great cost to the Latin American countries themselves. 

Both Latin America and Mexico City's Excélsior report on the Peruvian government's decision to nationalize Cerro Corporation, a North American mining enterprise. In a recent statement, the government reiterated its intention to expropriate Cerro, but stated that it will wait for an opportune moment. This decision is a likely reflection of the Peruvian president Juan Velasco Alvarado's accusation that Cerro is trying to provoke the Peruvian government into actions which could then be used against it. 

Velasco said counter-revolutionary elements had previously described the military government as communist, but their current term of abuse was Marxist. He repeated his familiar assertion that the Peruvian revolution was neither Marxist nor capitalist. 

Latin American continues that quite apart from the international considerations, which are very real and weigh particularly heavy with Peru's finance minister, Velasco faces internal problems if he goes ahead with the nationalization of Cerro. The deportations at the beginning of this month of three conservative politicians had been linked by some observers to their criticisms of the projected social property law, but Velasco made it clear that they were involved in Cerro's political offensive. 

Cerro's political importance in Peru stems in part from its large shareholdings in many national mining enterprises. Following the expropriation of all important latifundios under agrarian reform and the collapse of the national banking sector with the downfall of the Prado family, mining is the one sector of the economy in which private domestic capital still remains powerful in alliance with Cerro. If Cerro falls, these interests will feel directly and immediately threatened. 

If Cerro, now feeling that it has little to lose, escalates its campaign still further, it is hard to see how the government is to avoid joining battle. Velasco said that Peru was ready for any confrontation which might be forced upon it. But at present, the battle remains centered on public opinion, and mining sources in Peru were discounting the possibility of any early expropriation of Cerro. 

The enormous discrepancy between the government's valuation of Cerro's worth, $12 million, and the company's own estimate, 175 million, derives in large part from the fact that the company expects compensation for reserves of ore still in the ground, even when there has been no investment in developing the ore body. Under the Peruvian constitution and law, ever since the country's independence from Spain, such minerals remain the property of the state until they are mined. 

Previous negotiations with Cerro, which is the major mining complex in Latin America, were interrupted in mid-September when the company accused the government of acting in bad faith. That report from the London Weekly, Latin America.

This week's feature focuses on culture, a Cuban view of Cuban culture, exploring especially the history of efforts in Cuba to support and extend the arts in a country that historically was impoverished. The material and viewpoint of the feature on Cuban culture comes from the Cuban News Agency, Prensa Latina. 

Art in Cuba is not just the Rumba, one of the few forms Yankees visiting pre-revolutionary Cuba got exposed to out of the island's enormous contribution to jazz. Nor is it only films and posters, which are perhaps the best present-day forms of art in Cuba. To appreciate the significance and role of the arts and the artists in Cuba today, it's necessary to briefly review the history of the arts there. Of the many contributors to Cuban culture, the most important were the Spanish colonists and the African peoples brought to the island as slaves.

These two peoples eventually fused their arts, music, folklore, mythologies and literature and ways of thinking into an authentic Cuban national culture. Under colonial rule from the 15th through the 19th centuries, Spanish art and architecture prevailed. Stained-glass windows and integrate wrought iron railings on balconies and gates were familiar decorative elements in upper-class homes in what is now Old Havana. The upper classes furnished their manners with imports from Madrid.

After the Spanish American War, the United States remained in Cuba, directly or indirectly, until 1959. Frustration with American intervention was reflected in the works of early republic literature. By 1910, a younger group founded the magazine, Contemporary Cuba, where possible solutions to problems of the new nation had ample forum. After the revolution, as Cuba began the development of a new society, the role people played as individuals and participants in society began to change.

Responsibilities, priorities, values, and motivations were radically altered. None of these changes were automatically defined, nor did they appear in practice and in people's consciousness all at once. For intellectuals, for writers, painters, artists of all media, this transitional process of redefinition was and can continues to be complex and difficult.

In 1961, continues Prensa Latina, the first official encounter of artists, writers, and representatives of the revolutionary government took place. Various intellectuals expressed their concern over freedom of expression in the arts and asked what the parameters were in a time of change and polarization. "Was the form to be dictated by a government policy?" they asked.

Fidel Castro made a now famous speech in which he said, "With the revolution, everything. Against the revolution, nothing." And expanded and interpreted that to mean that no one was going to impose forms, nor was anyone going to dictate subject matter. But counter-revolution would not be tolerated in the arts or in any other activity.

Intellectuals who found themselves in the midst of the revolution faced adjustment of a lifetime of habits and ways of thinking to new realities and needs. For example, a painter in the 1950s sought some way of making a living rarely through art. He catered to rich patrons, if lucky enough to be recognized at all, and sold his works to individuals, invariably to friends or upper-class collectors. Most artists, as artists, were self-oriented. The very forms of artistic expression were narrowly individualistic.

Artists created canvases which hung in galleries and homes that only a fraction of the population could or would see. How could one put society first in an each man for himself world? There were diverse attempts to make art a vital part of the new society. One of the earliest projects the revolution initiated was the National School of Cuban Art, a gigantic complex of very modern one-level buildings in a luxurious residential area of Havana, for students of dance, sculpture, music, and theater. Young people from all over the country can apply for scholarships to this largest of the arts schools.

Prensa Latina continues that young art students in the search for new media, more accessible to the whole population, went to the factories, the farms, and the schools, and exchanged ideas with workers. Art students and established artists asked themselves and were asked, "What are the obligations of a socially-committed artist, a revolutionary artist? Are there specific forms, say, murals, that best reflect and contribute to the revolution?" Fortunately, says Prensa Latina, Cuban artists and government agencies did not fall into the trap of imposing a simplistic formula, the happy triumphant worker theme à la Norman Rockwell.

Throughout the 1960s, Cuban painters were exposed to the art of many countries. In 1968, the International Salon de Mayo exhibition was held in Havana, and artists from Western Europe, the socialist countries, Latin America, Africa, and Asia, participated. Young Cuban painters and old experimented with pop art, pop up, abstraction, and new expressionism. There were no limitations.

Out of all this experimentation and dialogue came the means of visual expression best known outside Cuba, poster art. Because of massive distribution possibilities and the functional character of poster art, it has become second in importance, only to film, as the visual vehicle of the message of the revolution. 

Art is also architecture. Before the revolution, architects designed residences for the rich, factories, and luxury hotels. Since 1959, construction priorities have shifted to the creation of housing complexes and thousands of schools and living facilities. With a tremendous growth in population, a demographic shift to newly inhabited zones of the island and a drive to get people out of urban slums, housing demands are massive and are met as fast as building materials and labor allow.

Volunteers have been recruited from every industry to put in extra hours on housing construction brigades. In housing and other construction, new functions have required new architecture. Extremely new designs and styles can be seen in the remotest corners of the countryside, as well as in the city.

Another art form much cultivated in Cuba is dance. The National Ballet of Cuba is world-famous, and Alicia Alonso is recognized as one of the greatest contemporary ballet artists. 

Music cannot be left out while reviewing the revolution's cultural activities. Traditional Cuban popular music flourishes. By wave of radio and films, western rock has also become known to Cuban youth. The task is seen to create a consciousness and a demand for genuine Cuban and Latin American music so that Cuban youth won't simply imitate foreign pop music. And at present, there is a big push to encourage amateur musicians in the ranks of workers and students and everyone, so as to maximize music and not leave music only in the hands of a few professionals. 

To speak of Cuban cinema, says Prensa Latina, is to speak of revolutionary Cuban cinema. In the course of the armed struggle against the dictatorship, a few protest documentaries and news reels were made by revolutionaries in the Sierra and the urban underground. Again, these were of the barest cinematic qualities. 

Following the winning of the revolution in 1959, Cuban cinema was aided by the creation of an institute of artistic and industrial cinematography. The institute supports the training of film students, the production of films, and the importing and exporting of films. One of the institute's highest priorities is to extend the availability of cinema to those who, before the revolution, had no access to films. So efforts have been concentrated in the areas where the cinema was once unknown, and there are now some 13 million moviegoers a year and over 500 theaters that dot the island. And other methods have been developed for reaching the more remote areas of the countryside and mountains. 

For instance, redesigned trucks, equipped with 16-millimeter projectors and driven by the projectionists, spread out across the country to show films in those areas where there are not yet theaters. These movable movies are now numbered at more than 100. One of the institute's most engaging short documentaries called "For the First Time" is actually about this part of the institute's operation. The episode photographed shows one evening when a projection crew went to an area in the Sierra Mountains to show a film to people there for the first time. The movie was Charlie Chaplin's "Modern Times".

The attempt to demystify the cinema for an audience of novices is more than a little difficult to understand for a North American, whose sensibilities are bombarded by the electronic media. The institute has set itself the task of bringing young people interested in the cinema into discussion circles at student centers, union halls, and workplaces, and to explain its work.

More important, it seeks to explain the methods of the film to the entire population to work in a way against its own power, according to Guevara, the institute head, to reveal all the tricks, all the recourses of language, to dismantle all the mechanisms of cinematography hypnosis. To this end, the institute has a weekly television program, which explains all the gimmicks used to attract the viewer's attention.

When it began, the institute used the most elementary techniques. Most of the film workers were uneducated in the media, although a handful had studied in European film schools. Today, with a number of fully-developed trained persons, the acquisition of skills is now a secondary concern at best. The head of the institute explains that the priority is to break down the language structure of the film and find new ways to use film, being very careful in the process not to divorce the filmmaker from the audience for the filmmaker's own self gratification. 

He put it this way, "We must not separate ourselves from the rest of the people, from all the tasks of the revolution, especially those that fall into the ideological field. Every time a school is built, every time 100 workers reach the sixth grade, each time someone discovers something by participating in it. As in the field of culture, it becomes easier for us to do our work. Our work is not simply making or showing movies. Everything we do is part of a global process towards developing the possibilities of participation. Not passive, but active. Not as the recipients, but as the protagonists of the public. This is the Cuban definition of socialist democracy in the field of culture." 

In addition to production of films, as many as possible are imported. US films shown in Cuba are, of course, from the pre-revolutionary period: "Gigi", "Singing in the Rain", and "Bad Day at Black Rock". Late night television repeats, from time to time, a Dana Andrews or Ronald Colman melodrama. The economic blockade against Cuba has denied the island access to US movies of the 60s and 70s, though from time to time, a bootleg print gets through. A recent favorite there was "The Chase", with Marlon Brando and Jane Fonda, from the early 60s. Imports are in large part from the European socialist countries: France, Italy, Japan, and, to a degree, Latin America. 

Prensa Latina continues that obviously the shortage of currency is a great burden. To this day, the institute does not own even one eight-millimeter movie camera. There are no color facilities in Cuba, although a lab is now under construction. In this country where there were millions of peasants who never saw movies, the problem arose that many preferred to buy trucks and equipment to help with the work, rather than new camera equipment. 

From the beginning, the institute has faced a bit of a dialectic contradiction. It wants to capture, for posterity and for the moment, the complex reality of these years, but the reality is always changing. Alfredo Guevara, head of the Cuban Film Institute says, "These are surely the most difficult, complicated years, years in which the experiences we have are sometimes not recorded. To reflect them in the cinema means, in some way, we must crystallize them, which is the last thing we want. But every time we film, it is there. Whether or not we want to do so, we are always a testimony." 

Prensa Latina continues that the poster commemorating the 10th anniversary of the founding of the Cinemagraphic Institute shows a camera with gun smoke exuding from the lens. The imagery of filmmaker as cultural guerilla corresponds to the value system throughout revolutionary Cuba. Guevara says, "In the success of the revolution, we have placed, in our hands, a thing, the means of production, whose power we knew very well because it had been in the power of the enemy up to that point."

"When this force fell into our hands, it was clear to all of us that the revolution had given us a very serious job. I'm talking of everyone who has participated in the work of giving birth to the Cuban cinema or, what is really the same thing, the job of giving our people and our revolution a new weapon, a new instrument of work, one that is useful above all in understanding ourselves."

That concludes this week's feature, which has been a Cuban view of Cuban culture taken from the Cuban News Agency, Prensa Latina. 

The News Loop Weekly Latin America states that the release of two ships, one Cuban and one Soviet, from detention by the Canal Zone authorities earlier this month was an excellent augury for the arrival of Ellsworth Bunker in Panama this week and the start of the first serious Canal Treaty negotiations since the 1968 military coup the. Ship's detention at the behest of the Chilean Junta for turning back after the September coup in Santiago, and so failing to deliver goods bought by the Allende government enraged the Panamanians as a typical example of how, in their view, a Latin American political dispute in which Washington has an interest can impinge on the supposedly free traffic through the Panama Canal controlled by the USA. In the Panamanian view, such things could not happen if it controlled the canal itself. 

The Christian Science Monitor reports that Ellsworth Bunker will confer for a week with Panama's foreign minister Juan Antonio Tack. They will discuss Panama's insistence on a new Panama Canal Treaty to replace the 1903 treaty hastily negotiated by the US with the then two-week-old Republic of Panama. Egged on by President Theodore Roosevelt, Panama had just torn away from its mother country, Colombia. As Secretary of State John Hay wrote a friend at the time, the United States had won a treaty "very satisfactory to the United States, and we must confess, not so advantageous to Panama." 

Repeatedly down the years efforts to draft a new treaty that while protecting the vital interest of the United States, would give the proud small Republic of Panama less cause for complaint and more financial rewards have failed. Sometimes the stumbling block has been the influence in Congress of the 40,000 American Zonians who want no change in their comfortable colonial style of life. Sometimes it has been the posturing for home audiences by Panama's politicians. However, by 1964, the stalemate erupted in anti-American riots that killed four Americans and 22 Panamanians. In 1967, president Lyndon Johnson offered new treaty concessions, but they were unacceptable to Panama. Now in January comes the 10th anniversary of the rioting. 

Mr. Tack and his chief, General Torrijos Herrera, Panama's strongman, both want a new treaty. The Latin American foreign minister's meeting at Bogotá recently unanimously voted to back Panama's request for a new treaty. And last March's United Nations Security Council session in Panama clearly favored the idea. Although the United States vetoed a resolution that called on the parties to work out a new accord. Since then, the US and Panama have steadily narrowed their differences. Actually, appointment of Mr. Bunker is seen widely as an indication that Washington is now prepared to compromise and work out a new treaty. 

Panama is willing to allow the US to operate and defend the existing canal, which cost $387 million to build and which opened to world traffic in 1914. It has no objection to the United States improving the present canal with a new set of locks that might cost $1.5 billion or even building a new sea level canal that might cost $3 billion, take 15 years to build and 60 years to amortize, but it wants a definite treaty to end in 1994. The United States, for its part, has been holding out for guaranteed use for at least 85 more years, 50 years for the present canal, plus 35 years if a new canal is ever built.

Panama also wants an end to US sovereignty in the Canal Zone, that 53-mile channel with about 500 square miles on either side that cuts the small country in half. Panamanians traveling between one part of their country and the other must submit themselves to United States red tape, United States Police, United States jurisdiction. This rankles, and virtually all of Latin America now backs Panama.

Panama is reported willing to grant the United States two major military bases to defend the canal, one at the Atlantic end, one at the Pacific, but it wants to eliminate the nine other US bases and place all 11,000 US military personnel in the country on a status of forces agreement such as the United States has with Spain and many other allied countries. United States negotiators stress that Panama derives an annual $160 million merely from the presence of 40,000 Americans on its soil. But a recent World Bank study has pointed out that this now represents only 12% of Panama's gross national product and that this 12% is the only part of the gross national product that is not growing. This report is from the Christian Science Monitor. 

Today's feature will be an interview with Dr. Richard Schaedel, professor of anthropology at the University of Texas at Austin concerning his recent trip to Chile. Professor Schaedel has traveled extensively in Latin America, was a visiting professor at the University of Chile in Santiago and organized the Department of Anthropology there in 1955 and has served Chilean universities in a consultant capacity frequently, most recently, three years ago. 

Dr. Schaedel, what was the purpose of your recent trip to Chile? 

Well, there were actually two purposes, one being personal. I had my son down there and was concerned that he leave the country as soon as possible. Second was essentially to inform myself as to the real nature of the takeover and its consequences for the social science community in Santiago, not just the Chileans and the social science community, but also social scientists from other Latin American countries, a number of whom had been jailed or harassed in various ways and several of whom had actually been killed.

So that since reports were, to say the least, confusing emanating from the press, I wanted to take firsthand stock of the situation and also form an estimate of the likely number of graduate students and professionals in the social sciences who would probably be looking for positions in other Latin American countries or in Europe or the United States as a result of their inability to get along with the junta or because of persecution by the junta directly.

We've heard that in most Chilean universities, certain entire departments and particularly social science courses have been abolished. Is that true from your findings? 

Yes, that's very definitely true. Particularly this affects sociology. It's very unlikely that the career of sociology, at least to the doctoral level, will be continued in Chile, and it's possible that Catholic University may allow a kind of degree but not the full doctorate, whereas the University of Chile will simply give general introductory courses and there will be no advanced training.

There was an important Center of Socioeconomic Studies, CESO is the acronym, and that was totally abolished. This institute had been carrying out very important original social science research on contemporary Latin America over the past decade, and it established a ratifying reputation and that's been completely abolished. Essentially, it was a institute functioning within the total University of Chile system.

Another institute which was somewhat autonomous and concerned itself with rural affairs, ESERA is the acronym. This was directed by a North American with the funding from FAO, Food and Agricultural Organization in the United Nations, and this was heavily intervened. That particular institute wasn't abolished, but all of the research that had been carried out, the papers, the records of that research were appropriated by the junta and were given over to a paper factory. These are just a few examples of the kind of measures that are being taken to suspend the training of social scientists, particularly at the higher level. 

Dr. Schaedel, from your recent visit to Chile, do you think the press reports of thousands of summary executions, unauthorized search and seizure of residences and torture of suspected leftists, do you think these reports have been accurate? 

Yes, I think there's no question that all these things occurred. I think the only issue is to determine quantitatively how accurate they were. One of the basic problems is simply the overall body count, a result of how many people are actually killed as a result of the takeover, both in the immediate fighting on September 11th and succeeding days, and also in the executions that were conducted out of the Stadium of Chile and the National Stadium. A lot of controversy is waged in the press on this subject, and I would say that the estimates, the minimal estimates that, below which, it would very hard to go, would be somewhere in the range of 3,000 to 5,000, and it's quite probably a larger number than that. 

The junta has consistently refused to allow any of the international agencies the opportunity to establish these figures for themselves, and it certainly is not interested in carrying out or reporting on the number of people killed. Incidents of torture in the stadium are abundantly verified by a number of, certainly I had the opportunity to speak to about 10 people in Santiago who were eyewitnesses to this. Unauthorized search and seizure, everyone that I talked to in Chile could give me evidence on that. Houses have been searched up to three times, including the house of the resident representative of the United Nations in Santiago. 

So generally speaking, I would say that with very few exceptions, most of the reports are essentially accurate with this reservation that I don't think we'll ever be able to get a good quantitative estimate of the number of people who have been tortured, the total number of illegal search and seizures, or even the total number of deaths. All this will have to be reconstructed and extrapolated from the eyewitness accounts. 

I'd just like to mention in passing that I got a document from a Colombian faculty member at the School of Social Sciences in Chile who had spent 30 days being moved from the stadium of Chile to the National Stadium, and prior to that he had been in several other places of detention and it's a rather gruesome account of the kinds of things that happened to him. He was a Colombian citizen who was seized at his house on the very day of the takeover, and his account of what took place, I'm just getting translated now and intend to turn it over to the Kennedy Committee, but this kind of document is hard to come by, especially from people who are still in Chile.

Those that have left are somewhat reluctant to compromise themselves because of friends and relatives that they might have there, but I can certainly say that, generally, the image projected by the press is correct.

From your experience, what is the political and economic direction being taken by the junta now? 

Well, I would say that it's following, and this has been pointed out by a number of reporters, that it's following the model of Spain. They are drafting a totally new constitution, and there are every indication that the constitution will be based on the so-called gremio or guild organizations, by professions rather than on any system of what we would consider electoral parliament.

And this new constitution is being drafted by three lawyers. It's on a corporatist model, and elections will definitely not take the form they have in the past. So it will be an elimination of a representative democracy, which is the former government Chile has had.

And such other measures as have been taken with regard, for example, to education, we can judge a little of the tendencies. Obviously, the most obvious one is the suppression or elimination of all Marxist literature. And then decrees have been passed, revising the curriculum of high school education, eliminating anything having to do with political doctrine, discussion of social reactions to the Industrial Revolution and things like that. So I guess, very simply, yes. If you want to call the government of Spain fascist, then the government is following very deliberately that model.

What else can you say about the situation in Chilean educational institutions now in terms of curriculum reform, overall educational reform?

Well, essentially, the situation in the universities of Chile is that they are all being intervened. The exact format that the revised university is going to take is somewhat clouded because there hasn't been a new statute governing university education, but it's fairly clear that they will definitely suppress social science training at the upper levels that would have to do with any independent investigation of political ideologies in their relationship to class structure or class organization. These matters will certainly not be permitted. 

And by and large, I think you could say that the reaction to the junta is fairly clear in its persecution of the international schools that have been based in Santiago. The School of Social Sciences is going to have to move, and the other organizations such as the Center for Demography, which is a UN organization, and even the Economic Commission for Latin America are beginning to wonder whether they should or even will be allowed to continue. The very fact that they've been able to intimidate, that the junta has been able to intimidate these international social science organizations, I think gives you a pretty good reading as to the kind of suppression of what we would consider to be normal social science training and research. Prospects are fairly grim. 

What kinds of efforts are being made in other countries, in particular in the United States, to help university professors and students who've been dismissed by the junta? 

Well, in the United States, there's a nationwide group organized which counts with the participation of practically every stateside university, which is setting up a network of offers for people who possibly need jobs or graduate fellowships. This is operating out of New York as a small funding grant from the Ford Foundation and operates in connection with a Latin American social science center based in Buenos Aires, which has been very active in trying to rehabilitate the already sizable number of Chilean and other Latin American academic refugees, you might say, in other countries of Latin America, so that the United States effort is integrated with the Latin American effort and is aimed primarily at avoiding, if possible, a brain drain, locating Chilean social science in South America, if possible, or Latin America in general, prior to opting for providing them jobs up here.

However, I think the effort is very worthwhile, and I'm sure, despite the efforts to accommodate social sciences in Latin America, social scientists in Latin America, a number of them will be coming to the States and also to European centers. Europe has also indicated an interest in rescuing Chilean social science.

Thank you, Dr. Schaedel. We've been talking today with Dr. Richard Schaedel of the Anthropology Department at the University of Texas at Austin, who recently returned from a fact-finding mission in Chile to investigate the situation of the social sciences after the September coup. 

One of the most dramatic and unexpected changes that rocked Latin America in 1973 took place in Argentina. The event around which all subsequent events now seem to turn was the return to power of Juan Domingo Perón, the 77-year-old popular leader, who despite his 17-year absence, has maintained control over the largest political movement in Argentina. Perón first came to power in 1943, as a result of a military coup.

He gained a firm grip on the government in the immediate post-war years and began to implement his policies of state intervention in the economy and high import barriers to keep foreign industrial competition out and allow Argentine industry to develop. These nationalistic policies aroused the ire of the United States, but with the help of huge export earnings due to the high world price of Argentine beef, they spurred tremendous growth in the Argentine economy.

In order to consolidate his power base, Perón mobilized Argentine masses both by creating an extensive Peronist party apparatus and building the trade union movement. By the early 50s, Argentina's post-war boom had begun to slacken off and Perón lost political support as a result. In 1955, the military stepped in and took over the government, condemning Perón to exile.

In the years since Perón's downfall, the Peronist party has been prohibited from participating in Argentina elections, but the party has remained active and has cast blank votes in these elections. These boycotts of the elections have shown that, even while in exile, Perón was and is Argentina's most popular political leader.

The current series of events began last fall when the military government of Alejandro Lanusse announced it was considering allowing Perón to return to Argentina. In November, the government kept its promise and Perón flew to Buenos Aires, the nation's capital, and began negotiating with the ruling military leaders on what role his party would play in the upcoming March elections. The Argentina Perón returned to though was quite different from the Argentina Perón left 17 years before.

Deep division exists in Argentina and the Peronist movement itself. Clearly the most conservative element of the Peronist movement is the General Workers' Confederation, the huge union apparatus set up during Perón's previous regime. Over the years, though, the General Workers Confederation has championed the cause of Perón's return, but has been noticeably timid in fighting for workers' benefits. Thus, the union leadership has gotten along well with the military governments and has virtually lost contact with the masses it is supposed to represent.

The Peronist element which is responsible for much mass mobilization is the leftist Juventud Peronista, a Peronist youth group, whose socialist sounding slogans frighten many of the outline Peronists, especially when they see the Peronist youth's ability to turn out crowds. Still, further to the left, are the non-Peronist guerilla groups, such as the People's Revolutionary Army, who have made it clear that they consider foreign monopolist, local oligarchs, and the armed forces the enemies of the Argentine people. The ERP as the group is known, is famous for its kidnappings of foreign business executives and other operations which make it a force to be dealt with in Argentine politics. 

It was into this political arena that Perón stepped when he began bargaining with the military in November and December. Perón wanted to be able to run in the March presidential elections himself as opposed to seeing his party represented by someone else. At this point, it is worth noting Perón was considered a revolutionary of sorts and was feared by the US government and foreign businessmen. When the military refused to let Perón himself run in the elections, the disappointed leader returned to Spain and Héctor Cámpora, another Peronist, was chosen to run instead.

This was considered a victory for the left wing of the Peronist movement since Cámpora was felt to be an ardent nationalist and an anti-imperialist. When the elections were held in March, Cámpora was an easy winner and speculation began as to what kind of government could be expected when he took power on May 25th. Revolutionary guerrilla groups, anticipating a friendly regime, stepped up their activities in April and May.

The ERP got $1 million worth of medical equipment for the poor from Ford Motor Company for the release of a kidnapped Ford executive. Such activities caused many foreign businessmen to leave Argentina. When Cámpora and the Peronistas actually took power on May 25th though, it became clear that they had no intention of radically transforming Argentine society immediately. Although some boldly independent foreign policy moves were made, such as the recognition of Cuba and other socialist regimes, no sweeping domestic changes were announced. 

Meanwhile, popular pressures within Argentina continued to build. In June, in addition to continued guerrilla activity, government buildings and hospitals were occupied by workers demanding better wages and working conditions. Such developments did not go unanswered by right-wing forces. At a welcoming demonstration for Perón's return, thugs hired by the conservative leadership of the General Workers Confederation opened fire on a Peronist youth column in the crowd.

In the resulting shootout, 20 people were killed and more than 200 injured. Also, the General Workers Confederation undertook a campaign of brutal repression against rival unions in the important industrial state of Cordoba. The Cordoba Unions have rejected the leadership of the General Workers Confederation and have instead defined their movement in terms of class struggle.

In July, most observers were stunned when President Cámpora announced that he was resigning in order to allow Perón to take the reins of power directly. But it appeared that the return Perón would be a different leader. In both cabinet appointments and restructuring his party, Perón embraced conservative elements and left the more radical sectors out of the movement. Reflecting this shift, the US took an about-face and endorsed Perón.

On September 22nd of this year, three decades after he first came to power, and after a 17-year military imposed exile, Perón won a decisive victory at the polls, reaping 62% of the votes. Even with Perón in the presidency, however, there is neither the hoped for stability in Argentina nor a unified civilian front. Building such a coalition to oppose the military front, which ruled Argentina for the past 18 years is Perón's first priority. His return, however, has ignited rather than appeased the smoldering social forces.

Two days after his presidential victory, a chain of political assassinations was set off beginning with that of Jose Rucci, a moderate trade union leader. Although the ERP, which Perón outlawed upon taking power, was immediately handed the blame, the prevailing speculation is that it was actually the work of right wing provocateurs anxious to disturb the stability of Perón's government from the outset. Soon after the Rucci assassination, the right murdered the young leader of a Peronist youth group and bombed the offices of their weekly paper.

These murders were followed by continued sectarian violence with paramilitary and para-political groups flourishing. The General Workers' Confederation, surprisingly, is maintaining a conciliatory line within the Peronist movement. The Argentine justification of the violence is that the current wave of bombings and assassinations is nothing compared to what would've happened if Perón had not imposed his heavy hand of authority.

Foreign observers interpret the warfare between the Peronist youth and the trade union bureaucracy as evidence that Peronism is, was, and will be, a fascist movement, and that the flirtation with the left was no more than a tactical maneuver to win votes. Perón has given strong evidence that he is now interested in appeasing the right. His most recent step was to give unequivocal instructions that Marxism must be rooted out of the Peronist movement.

Although this announcement set off massive demonstration in Argentina's largest university and provoked response at the gubernatorial level, the Peronist left has accepted with as much grace as possible this crusade against Marxism. The ERP on the other hand, continues to pursue its guerrilla tactics hoping to split the government's supporters.

One of the most reassuring developments since Perón's ascension to the presidency has been the passivity of the military. They have shown themselves willing to accept such events as the shooting of a colonel by a member of the ERP because no other course is open to them with politics under Perón's control. The economy has not been so passive. Inflation is running at an annual rate of 60% and prices are being held down by decree. To ensure effective rationing and control the black market, Perón has instituted a system of state distribution. 

Perhaps the most important single development in Argentina in 1973 may turn out to be Perón's decision to reach an accommodation with Brazil. Only the first steps have been taken, but the reversal is dramatic. Perón does not seem to have taken a major step towards providing a new framework for inter-American relations. In the end, however, Argentine unity at home and influence abroad depend primarily on one man, and by virtue of this, on an old man's heartbeat. For Perón is now an ailing 78 years old, and the reports that he has suffered another heart attack in late November only emphasize the fragility of the national recover that depends on such a delicate base. 

According to Marcha of Montevideo, Uruguay, many Latin American officials are dismayed at the Nixon administration's choices for ambassadors to Mexico and Argentina. Two of the most critical posts in Latin America, both men, Joseph Jova appointed ambassador to Mexico and Robert Hill appointed to Argentina have been criticized for their close connections with the CIA, the Pentagon and the United Fruit Company. 

Hill, a close friend of President Nixon recently chose to resign from his post as Assistant Secretary of Defense for International Security Affairs rather than comply with a Senate order to sell his extensive defense industry stock holdings 

According to Marcha, Hill's political career began in the State Department in 1945 when he was assigned to US Army headquarters in New Delhi, India. His job actually served as a cover for an intelligence assignment for the Office of Strategic Services, the precursor of the CIA. Throughout the rest of his career, he continued to work closely with the US intelligence community, including the CIA. Marcha describes his biography as a satirical left-wing caricature of a Yankee imperialist. A former vice president of WR Grace and a former director of the United Fruit Company, Hill personally helped organize the overthrow of the Nationalist Arbenz's Government, which threatened United Fruit's investments in Guatemala.

As Marcha details, "Ambassador Hill is particularly criticized for his participation in the CIA instigated overthrow of President Arbenz in 1954." The history of that coup centers to a large extent on the United Fruit Company. Arbenz and his predecessor worked hard to change the inequalities in Guatemala's social structure. Free speech and free press were established. Unions were reorganized and legalized. Educational reforms were enacted.

One of the most wide-sweeping and inflammatory changes was the Agrarian Land Reform Program, which struck directly at the interest of the United Fruit Company. The program called for the expropriation and redistribution of uncultivated lands above a basic acreage, while exempting intensively-cultivated lands. Compensation was made in accord with the declared tax value of the land. The appropriated lands were then distributed to propertyless peasants. 

Immediately afterwards, the McCarthyite storm burst over Guatemala. Arbenz was accused of being a communist agent and as such was thought to be a danger to the power of America and the security of the Panama Canal. The plan to overthrow Arbenz was concocted by the CIA. A Guatemalan colonel, Castillo Armas, was found to head up a rebel force in Honduras, in Nicaragua, and was supplied with United States arms. Marcha says that at the time of the coup, Hill was ambassador in Costa Rica and formed a part of the team that coordinated the coup. In 1960, he was rewarded by being elected to the board of directors of United Fruit. 

Hill has long enjoyed close relations with President Nixon, and in 1972 he returned from Madrid, Spain where he was serving as ambassador to work on the campaign for Nixon's reelection. Joseph Jova, the appointee as ambassador to Mexico, also shares with Hill a spurious background. The Mexican paper El Dia accused Jova of deep involvement in a successful 1964 CIA campaign to prevent the election of Salvador Allende as president of Chile. Jova was deputy chief of the United States Embassy in Santiago, Chile at the time. This report on the new United States ambassadors to Mexico and Argentina has been compiled from Marcha of Montevideo Uruguay and Mexico City's Excelsior.