Central America: Heading For a Runoff

Salvadoran voters survive bullets and chaos, but fail to select a new President

It seemed to be a moment of democratic triumph, but only a moment, too fragile to be sustained. Almost immediately the political situation in El Salvador last week was clouded with the familiar burdens of uncertainty and confusion, all of which had potentially troublesome consequences for the Reagan Administration and its policies in Central America. But there was no denying a remarkable sense of occasion: for a brief instant, the future of El Salvador (pop. 4.7 million) had rested where it belonged, in the hands of its electorate.

By the hundreds of thousands, Salvadorans braved the threats, and sometimes the bullets, of the Marxist-led Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front (F.M.L.N.) to join long, serpentine polling lines for the country’s much awaited presidential elections. Sadly, untold thousands were then cheated of the chance to cast their ballots by a sophisticated election system that led to chaos because it was too complex for the crude realities of Salvadoran politics. Thousands of others were disenfranchised by the guerrillas, who occupied 44 of the country’s 261 electoral municipalities, blocked highways, conducted sabotage and confiscated the national identity cards that voters needed to show before casting ballots.

Despite that formidable array of difficulties, about 1.3 million Salvadorans, or roughly 76% of those able to vote, successfully took part in the U.S.-backed election process, which climaxed two months of acrimonious and sometimes violent campaigning. Their collective decision, however, was to remain indecisive. Unofficially, it appeared that no candidate in the seven-man race had passed the 50% mark necessary to become the country’s first freely elected President in a half-century.

At week’s end Salvadoran election officials were still laboriously tallying the results by hand. Up to 45% of the votes were expected to goto front-running José Napoleón Duarte, 58, leader of the center-left Christian Democratic Party. Well behind, with an estimated 30%, was Duarte’s archrival, Roberto d’Aubuisson, ultrarightist leader of the Nationalist Republican Alliance, known by its Spanish acronym ARENA. Third, with an anticipated 19%, was Francisco (“Chachi”) Guerrero, 58, leader of the conservative National Conciliation Party. The election’s inconclusive outcome means that Duarte and D’Aubuisson will face each other in a runoff election, probably at the beginning of May.

The balloting was hardly over before President Reagan hailed the election as “another victory for freedom over tyranny.” Said he: “Those valiant people braved guerrilla violence and sabotage to do what we take for granted: cast then-votes for President.” The President’s enthusiasm was shared at a White House gathering of the 31 official U.S. observers who were among some 300 foreign onlookers from 28 countries to witness the election. House Majority Leader James Wright of Texas declared himself ecstatic at the “deep desire” of Salvadorans to achieve a democratic society. Republican Senator Jeremiah Denton of Alabama observed that “the Salvadorans made more effort to conduct fair elections than we do in the state of Alabama.”

Behind Reagan’s orchestration of the congressional praise was the hope that the impressive though imperfect Salvadoran display would rally Senate support for a compromise package of $62 million worth of proposed emergency military aid for El Salvador. Without the funds, insisted Reagan, the 30,000-member Salvadoran army would soon be unable to defend the country against the guerrillas, whose unity is sometimes debatable but whose destructiveness is beyond dispute (see box). The Senate gave tentative approval to the aid, but, chiefly through the efforts of Democratic Senator Edward Kennedy of Massachusetts, a promised formal vote on the funds was delayed until this week in order to keep attention focused on the Administration’s Central American policies.

All told, the U.S. spent nearly $7 million to help organize the balloting and guarantee its fairness. Unfortunately, some of that aid contributed to the chaos that cast a pall over the vote. Determined to ensure a truly honest and foolproof election, El Salvador’s central election commission ignored U.S. embassy warnings against the installation of high-tech computer voting procedures for a low-tech electorate (more than 40% of the eligible voters are illiterate). Summed up Jorge Rochac, the U.S.-educated consultant who served as overseer for the intricate voting system: “We have three miles of dirt road and the election commission bought a Cadillac.”

The basis of the commission’s elaborate preparations was a $3.4 million computer system purchased with U.S. funds. Officials programmed the computer with painstaking care, matching the national ID number of every potential Salvadoran voter with 6,598 polling tables at locations around the country. The procedure was considered tamperproof: at each table, citizens were supposed to hand over their ID cards, to prevent double-voting. A precinct secretary would then look up the ID number on the computerized voting list, mark it, and hand out a ballot emblazoned with the party emblems of the competing candidates. After the voter marked his ballot and placed it in a transparent Lucite box (to forestall accusations of ballot-box stuffing), his ID card was stamped and his finger dipped in indelible ink. AL told, more than 180,000 people monitored the process. The commissioners forgot just three things: the F.M.L.N. guerrillas, the dislocation produced by more than four years of civil war, and the lack of sophistication of most Salvadoran voters.

The first major indication of trouble came when guerrilla commandos blew up power lines leading into the capital of San Salvador. The blackout began as election commissioners were handing out numbered ballots and ballot boxes for distribution to the local polling stations. Many officials simply left for the polls without their election materials. When delivered ballots failed to match up with local voting lists, both became useless. To top off the confusion, the election commission had delayed explaining the balloting system to voters until 72 hours before election day.

By 7 a.m. Sunday, the streets and sidewalks leading to most voting stations were jammed. The voters were inspired by more than the desire to exercise their rights: by Salvadoran law, failure to vote is punishable by a fine of up to $20. Although the fine is rarely levied, failure to get a voting stamp for one’s national ID card might result in arrest by security forces as a suspected “subversive.”

Typical of the confusion was the scene at Flor Blanca stadium, the only location in San Salvador assigned to voters who had been uprooted by the civil war or who otherwise could not cast ballots in their local towns and villages. To find their proper polling table, voters were required to consult posted lists; few were able to find their names, even with the help of poll officials. As voters wandered back and forth in 100° temperatures, tempers flared. “This shows disrespect for the people,” said Antonio Meléndez, a bearded mechanic who spent five hours in the stadium without casting his ballot. “We have been made to suffer for no good reason.”

Elsewhere, bullets rather than ballots were the problem. In China-meca, in the eastern department of San Miguel, voters were fired on by guerrillas in nearby coffee groves. People scattered, and the polls closed less than two hours after they had opened. Election officials assigned to the town of El Triunfo in central Usulutan department had even worse luck. When they arrived early on election day, they found guerrillas smashing the Lucite voting urns and making a campfire out of the paper ballots. Three miles north of the departmental capital of San Miguel, posters warning of land mines were planted on the road, watched over by rifle-bearing rebels. Overall, the guerrilla attitude toward the election was summed up by their spokesman, Guillermo Ungo, who declared, “Votes are not the source of power, because there is no democracy in El Salvador.”

The Salvadoran army’s efforts on election day showed just how thin its resources are stretched. Not one of the military’s 19 helicopters was available for antiguerrilla operations: all those in working order were being used to ferry foreign observers around the country. Taking advantage of the army’s immobility, the F.M.L.N. attacked the town of Tejutepeque, in north central Cabanas department, killing 30 soldiers.

Even so, the army is determined to continue carrying out a ten-week preelection offensive against the guerrillas. The problem, U.S. military advisers argue, is that military operations will quickly be blocked by lack of ammunition and other supplies unless the Administration’s emergency aid request receives congressional approval soon. In its current offensive, the Salvadoran soldiers have been using munitions at a much faster rate than normal. Says one U.S. official: “You can’t just get on the phone and order more ammunition for delivery next Tuesday.”

The need for U.S. military help is making the Salvadoran army more sensitive to some of Washington’s nonmilitary concerns. Privately, several Salvadoran commanders have expressed their distaste for the possibility of a victory by ARENA’S D’Aubuisson in the runoff. The reason: the ultrarightist leader’s widely alleged connections with El Salvador’s notorious death squads would undoubtedly mean an immediate cutoff of military aid by Congress if D’Aubuisson became President. Several Salvadoran army colonels, led by Chief of Staff Adolfo Blanddn, 49, have publicly denounced the death squads and have vowed to remove people within their ranks who lend support to those grisly activities. As a sign of good faith, the army has also strengthened its protection for the front-running Duarte, who, according to U.S. sources, may be the target of an assassination squad working for the F.M.L.N. (In return, say Salvadoran sources, Duarte has promised the military that if elected he will not launch a witch hunt within the armed forces for any past death-squad activities.)

Last week Duarte was already talking like a winner. At a news conference, he praised the neutrality of the armed forces during the election and declared that “the people of this country have made a historic judgment against violence, the death squads, and against ARENA.”

By contrast, D’Aubuisson was distinctly subdued. Conceding a first-round lead to Duarte, D’Aubuisson congratulated the opponent he has called a “traitor” and made conciliatory proposals for a joint commission to arrange the next round of the contest. Said D’Aubuisson: “Right now El Salvador comes first. We have to go beyond party differences.”

While the Salvadoran election impressed congressional observers, it did not change many minds on Capitol Hill. Critics of the Administration’s policy still feel that the U.S. is, in the words of Democratic Senator Jeff Bingaman of New Mexico, “trying to solve a nonmilitary problem with a military solution.” The Administration reply is that guerrillas cannot be allowed to shoot their way into power. Congressional attacks are liable to increase in volume this week as the U.S. begins the large-scale military exercises known as Granadero I in neighboring Honduras. On the eve of the exercises, the Honduran armed forces suddenly announced the dismissal of their chief, General Gustavo Alvarez Martinez, and his replacement by the country’s civilian President, Roberto Suazo CÓrdova. The move was seen as a strengthening of civilian power in Honduras against undemocratic encroachment by the military. El Salvador’s voters have the same goal in sight. —By George Russell. Reported by David DeVoss/San Salvador and Barrett Seaman/Washington