ARGENTINA: Sobered Perón

Sobered Perón

Last week, as usual, U.S. policy in Latin America was up against an obstacle: Argentina, which refused to be a Good Neighbor. Foremost, though not the loudest leader of this recalcitrance was Colonel Juan Domingo Perón, at present serving slightly behind the scenes as Acting Minister of War.

Army Man. Colonel Perón. now tall, handsome and 48, was brought up on his father’s ranch in bleak southern Argentina. His boyhood was like that of a healthy, western Yankee. He played and fought with the local boys, rode wild horses, hunted wild turkeys. He entered the Army’s Military Academy, became a sublieutenant at 18, a full lieutenant at 20.

A fine athlete, he distinguished himself in boxing, fencing and track. A good scholar, he wrote books on military affairs (one of which praised Germany). After the manner of all military biographers, his associates say that he was a good soldier, a strict disciplinarian who was liked by his subordinates. Always in his mind and on his lips was the conviction that the Army was the purest, finest, most Argentine thing in Argentina. While in charge of troops in Mendoza in 1941, he started a “crusade for spiritual renovation”—which worked out as a scheme to staff the Argentine Government with idealistic, hard-working and deeply nationalistic young Army officers.

Few Argentine officers answered this description. But the idea spread, quickly crystallized into the GOU, an amorphous organization of officers below the rank of general. The letters mean Grupo de Oficiales Unidos (Group of United Officers), later idealized into Gobierno, Or den, Uni-dad (Government, Order, Unity). When the military revolution of June 4, 1943 knocked unpopular President Ramon Castillo out of power, the GOU took charge. It has since split up into factions. But Colonel Perón’s influence with some of these groups is still the basis of his power.

U.S. correspondents find nothing wrong with Perón personally. He is well-mannered, well-dressed without being particularly stiff or foppish. He can tell a good joke, enjoy a joke at his own expense. A widower, he has a pretty, 17-year-old daughter, Maria Inez. He likes to cook, to fish, to hunt, and to be with a charming movie star named Eva Duarte. An extremely hard worker, he admires Americans because they work hard. At home in drawing rooms, he is equally at ease with workingmen.

The Army Idea. When Colonel Perón emerged from his obscurity as a mid-rank officer, he seems to have had a single dominating idea: that Argentina would prosper best if run like (and by) the Argentine Army. He denounces Communism and interprets the word to include many brands of leftism. He admires German military efficiency. But Colonel Perón does not practice European Fascism. Since the June 4 Revolution there has been plenty of political conflict in Argentina, but no one of record has been tortured or executed. Labor unions are controlled by the Government, but they still exist. Reports of Nazi-like terror and systematic anti-Semitism have not stood up. The press was strictly controlled for a while. It is freer now, but not wholly free. Nazi money, Nazi influence operate in Argentina. But Perón is a home-grown Argentine authoritarian, not a Nazi stooge. Perhaps he would like to be a real dictator; at present he is merely a brainy man who generally outmaneuvers the other militarists, mostly numskulls.*

In some ways Perón is not even an efficient authoritarian. Far from having that “order” which totalitarians admire, the Argentine Government is chaotic, shifting, often silly.

The Army is the mainspring, but unlike most armies, it has no Commander in Chief. Most of its generals have been pushed into grumpy obsolescence. The nearest thing to a High Command is the quarreling mob of youngish officers (even down to lieutenants) over whom Perón keeps his influence by intrigue and personal magnetism.

The Problem. Argentina manages to function under this turbulent Government because she is so prosperous that she needs little government. The war has created insatiable, lucrative markets for her products of field and factory. But to intelligent Argentines the future does not look reassuring. They know that the Allies will control the markets of the postwar world. Many, apparently including Perón, would like to get on the right side of the fence before it is too late.

Here they run into trouble. Argentine nationalism, intense and highly emotional, is bitterly opposed to any “submission” to the U.S., which looms to the nationalists as an imperialist power with designs upon Argentine sovereignty. Any public figure who proposes “yielding” is apt to be shouted out of power by indignant “Argentina-Firsters.” U.S. diplomacy has not persuaded such Argentines that they can cooperate with the U.S. without first surrendering their national independence.

Perón has made good use of this emotion to subdue a long list of rivals. The latest was President Pedro Ramirez, whom Perón ousted because he broke relations with the Axis. The new President, bulldogfaced General Edelmiro Farrell, does not amount to much. His friend Perón does the work while the President retires to his club with a bottle of wine and a guitar to sing sad songs (a favorite refrain: “. . . Sweetie, you have taken the best of my life, leaving me only a wounded soul and a thorn in my heart”).

Recently Perón has made vague but friendly gestures toward the U.S. and democracy. He has spoken well of freedom of the press and of fair elections, possibly hoping to be elected President.

Hemispherically, Perón seems to want to divide Latin America into two spheres of influence. He would generously give the U.S. the northern part. The southern portion (Uruguay, Chile, Paraguay, Bolivia and possibly Peru) would form; a bloc under the influence of Argentina. This idea is modest for Argentine nationalists, most of whom believe that they should boss all South America.

Perón’s recent moderation has brought a violent reaction from the Argentina-Firsters, led by sharp-faced, big-eared Minister of the Interior Luis C. Perlinger. The battle is raging in officers’ clubs and barrack messrooms. Perón is broadening the base of his support by appealing to civilian forces: the press, the industrialists, even to students, labor unions and agricultural workers. If he wins this fight, throwing Perlinger out or reducing his power, Perón will probably set himself up as the open champion of wary, suspicious agreement with the U.S.

* Argentines call their militarists “inverted centaurs”— the horse on top.