Portugal: Shades of Salazar

Though the 36-year rule of Portugal’s António de Oliveira Salazar ended last year, the old man is not yet aware of it. Still immobilized after a stroke and a coma 13 months ago, Salazar calls Cabinet meetings, and his old ministers faithfully attend—even though some of them are no longer in the Cabinet. No one has found the courage to tell the 80-year-old dictator that he has been replaced.

At times, in fact, it seems that he has not. This week voters in Europe’s poorest and most calcified country went to the polls in what Salazar’s successor, Premier Marcello Caetano, 63, billed as a “free election.” Despite some liberalization of Portugal’s election laws, the outcome was a foregone conclusion. Though a few opposition candidates had a chance of winning places in the National Assembly for the first time, it was inconceivable that Salazar’s old National Union would lose more than half a dozen of its 130 Assembly seats, if that many. “The only trouble with the opposition is that it wants to take over the government,” complained one party stalwart at a National Union rally last week. “That will never be permitted.”

Guaranteed Defeat. Even under Salazar, “elections” of sorts were held regularly, and why not? The only time anyone ever piled up a sizable opposition vote was in 1958, when flamboyant General Humberto Delgado ran on the slogan: “I know this regime is rotten because I was once a part of it.” Delgado won 23% of the vote. This year’s chief opposition leader is Lawyer Mario Soares, 44, a thoughtful Socialist politician who went to jail twelve times under Salazar. Soon after Caetano became Premier, he brought Soares back from remote São Tomé island, where Salazar exiled him in 1968.

Though the regime eased censorship and extended the vote to women, all the cards were stacked in favor of the National Union. Allowed to operate only during a month-long official campaign period, the opposition barely had time to get organized. Only the National Union could take advantage of radio and newspaper ads; no one could use TV except Caetano. Rallies were allowed only indoors, and they were watched by political police.

The opposition was mathematically doomed anyway. In Portugal, political parties must mail out their own ballots. The eligible voters were named on the official registration lists, but nongovernment candidates were not allowed to see the lists long enough to record all the names on them. In the Lisbon election district, Scares’ group managed to send ballots to only half of the 350,000 voters—thus guaranteeing defeat. What is more, opposition ballots were printed on nearly transparent paper that was clearly different from the heavier-stock used by the National Union, thus making the “secret ballot” a mockery.

Nevertheless, the campaign was quite a change for Portugal. In selecting National Union candidates, Caetano lowered his slate’s average age from 57 to 48. He promised the people better housing, schools and social security.

Soares stumped the countryside, often to the wonder of the peasants. When a Soares “cavalcade” roared through a village, some people locked their doors, others thought it was a wedding procession, and one woman, asked if she were a voter, replied: “I think so. What is a voter?” In the cities, audiences cheered as he scourged the “fascists” and demanded “the end of the oppression of the political police.”

Obstacle to Progress. The true character of the Caetano regime may become clearer next year, when the new National Assembly will be empowered to rewrite the constitution. Caetano’s tough talk seems to indicate that there will be no great changes in the authoritarian Estado Novo that Salazar patterned after Mussolini’s Italy, though no country in Europe is more in need of change. Government travel posters coyly claim that Portugal is Europe’s best kept secret—quaint, unspoiled and cheap. Sometimes, however, it seems as if Europe is Portugal’s best-kept secret. The Continent’s prosperity has bypassed the country, whose 9,500,000 people have a 38% illiteracy rate and an annual per capita income of only $490 (Spain’s: $830). Two-fifths of Portugal’s 13,387 towns lack electricity, and three-fourths have no running water. The future is so bleak that more than 1,000,000 Portuguese have emigrated to jobs north of the Pyrenees.

Some National Union members are demanding sweeping reforms. Right now, however, most of the muscle belongs to the archconservatives, who still control much of the economy—and the army. These “ultras” are dead set against change, particularly in the country’s archaic colonial policy. Lisbon’s unwinnable eight-year war against African nationalists in Mozambique, Angola and Guinea ties up 130,000 troops and 40% of the national budget. It is thus one of the chief obstacles to progress.

When Caetano suggested during the campaign that the costly colonial policy should be an issue, the ultras were outraged. “The army is vigilant,” Portugal’s Chief of Staff warned ominously. Américo Thomaz, a retired admiral who serves as the figurehead President, snapped that the colonies were “to be defended, not discussed.” Sometimes it seems as if old Salazar is still running the place after all.