End of an Experiment

In Santo Domingo's presidential palace one day last week, a new government was sworn into office while sev eral dozen military officers looked on approvingly. On the floor above, locked in his quarters was the Dominican Republic's elected President, Juan Bosch, 54. Thus, in another of the military coups that afflict Latin America, ended the small Caribbean country's first experiment with democracy in 38 years.

President Bosch had entered office last February amid emotional hopes. A left-of-center intellectual and a longtime enemy of the brutal Trujillo dictatorship, he announced sweeping plans for reform. He put an end to the country's police-state atmosphere, cut government spending, and made a start on agrarian reform. But he proved to be an inept politician, stubbornly refusing to compromise. He failed to win over the powerful military. And that ultimately proved his undoing.

Out in the Open. Almost from the start, Dominican conservatives complained that Bosch was soft on Communism. He permitted the return of exiles, and far leftists poured in from every side. To all criticism, Bosch answered that he wanted the Reds out in the open, where he could watch them. But this only hardened the conservative anger and prompted repeated ultimatums.

Among the most powerful of the men who brought him down were two old hands at conspiracy: General Antonio Imbert Barreras, 42, and General Luis Amiama Tio, 49, sole survivors of the plotters who killed Dictator Trujillo. Under Bosch, Imbert controlled the police. He made no secret that he put more faith in bullets than ballots. "This coun try doesn't need elections," he once said. "One party wins. The others won't respect it. There'll be hell."

Last week the showdown came. When

Bosch wanted to dismiss Colonel Elias Wessin y Wessin, a vociferous antiCommunist, the brass decided that Bosch himself had to go. At a predawn meeting in the palace, the military chiefs arrested Bosch. They abolished the constitution, dissolved Congress, outlawed Communists and closed the schools. Out over the radio went a manifesto: "We have decided to intervene to put order to this chaos and to halt the deteriora tion to revolutionary Communism." Imbert then sent his police to round up all "subversives." By week's end some 500 people were in jail.

Some Time in 1965. As a front for their regime, the military lined up a junta of three civilians: Emilio de los Santos, 65, former president of the electoral college, who becomes presiding member; Manuel Enrique Tavares Es-paillat, 39, an engineer; Ramon Tapia Espinal, 37, a former member of the interim regime that ruled after the Trujillos. At the swearing-in, the new government promised elections some time in 1965. In his first TV speech, De los Santos made a pitch for U.S. recognition and continued economic aid.

Washington's reaction came close to heartbreak. Through the difficult months immediately after Trujillo's death, the U.S. used all its influence to prevent a power grab, either by Trujillo's heirs or other ambitious strongmen. It cheered the election of Bosch and poured in $41 million worth of Alliance aid. Now as Bosch went off to exile, orders went out to suspend relations and aid. Both measures were likely to be temporary. The U.S. could hardly afford to get itself in the same box as it had in Peru 15 months ago, when it reacted to a similar coup with dire threats: the angry words accomplished nothing, and the U.S. soon backed down.

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