One Mann & 20 Problems

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"I am a pragmatist, not a dogmatist," says Thomas Clifton Mann, "and I am not a miracle worker." Mann, 51, will need all of his pragmatism and may even have to work a few miracles if he is to succeed in his new job as U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs and President Johnson's top policymaker and adviser on the difficult, demanding world of Latin America.

"We expect to speak with one voice on all matters affecting this hemisphere," said Johnson when he appointed Mann last month. "Mr. Mann will be that voice." Too often in the recent past, U.S. policy toward Latin America, expressed by a babble of confused voices, has been dangerously diluted by a division of responsibilities in Washington. It now becomes Mann's task to bring order and direction to U.S. relations with an immensely important area that is crying out for change.

The "Invisible" Ones. That area is basically one of a relatively few "haves," and millions of "have nots" whose mood ranges from hopeless to revolutionary. Average per capita income is a miserable $400 a year. Since 1961, seven constitutional governments have been toppled by military coups. Nearly all of Latin America--about 8,500,000 sq. mi. and 220 million people--is teeming with unrest. The "invisible" ones, as Colombian Writer German Arciniegas said of the masses, may be at a point where they will make themselves heard in "a consuming fire or a flood of light." And despite jubilant receptions for President Eisenhower when he visited in 1960 and for President Kennedy in 1962, Latin America's feelings toward the U.S. are often far from cordial.

What can the U.S. do? Drawls Texan Mann: "Our job is to convince the Latin Americans that their interests lie parallel to ours--not because of sentiment, but in their own self-interest. Democracy is a tie in these cases, economics is a tie, and Christianity is another tie. The total of these ties is where our interest lies, and when these ties are strong enough, no Marxist can separate us."

In Different Packages. Welding those ties into something really strong will take a staggering amount of work and imagination. It means selling the idea of constitutional government, for example, to men like a leader in the Dominican Republic who gives this rationale of Latin American politics: "There are only three ways to handle people in Latin America: kill them, jail them or have drinks with them. I prefer the latter, but I am not averse to either of the former if it cannot be avoided." It means selling tax reforms to the wealthy, deeply entrenched oligarchs like the Brazilian industrialist who told a U.S. visitor: "You know, Brazil's growth is based in part on not paying taxes. If we paid, the government would spend it on foolishness like the army. Why do you keep talking about taxes? Taxation is an Anglo-Saxon fetish." Most important of all, it means listening to--and heeding --complaints like this from an Argentinean lawyer: "The U.S. projects one specific policy for the whole of Latin America. What works well in Mexico cannot possibly work effectively in Bolivia. Conditions are basically different. All this has led to a dwindling of U.S. prestige--a tragic fact when you consider the opportunities open to the U.S."

That criticism is all too valid. From Teddy Roosevelt's big-stick diplomacy to Franklin Roosevelt's genial Good Neighbor policy to John Kennedy's ambitious but disappointing Alianza para el Progreso, the U.S. has long tended to treat Latin America like an entity. In fact, the area never has been and never will be a package deal.

Pragmatist Mann seems to understand this, to realize that Latin America is many lands requiring many approaches. Says he: "Cultures, conditions and problems vary from country to country, and exact conformity is neither practical nor desirable." Each of Latin America's 20 sovereign nations (all but one of them nonCommunist) is enmeshed in its own problems, and each offers the U.S. a separate--and by no means equal--foreign policy challenge:

> Panama has been the Latin American crisis spot so far in 1964. Diplomatic relations with the U.S. were broken after riots ostensibly caused by a dispute over how Panamanian and U.S. flags should be flown in the U.S.-controlled Canal Zone. But the dispute goes much deeper than that, stems from burgeoning Panamanian nationalism and long-held resentment about the 1903 treaty that gave the U.S. rights "in perpetuity" over the canal. Panama's President Roberto Chiari insists now that the U.S. must promise to renegotiate the treaty. Tom Mann, who rushed to Panama himself right after the riots, along with then-Army Secretary Cyrus Vance, says the U.S. will be happy to discuss the situation, but that it will accept no "preconditions" to the meeting--such as a promise to change the treaty. The crisis is a long way from over, even though a committee of the Organization of American States last week thought it was nearing a temporary solution. Ironically, the current mess might have been eased or delayed had there been a U.S. ambassador in Panama. There was none--nor is there yet. No replacement has been sent for able Ambassador Joseph Farland, who left last August in disgust at Washington policies on foreign aid.

> Cuba remains the bone in the U.S. throat. The U.S. is committed to a relatively inactive policy of trying to isolate Castro from foreign trade. The embargo is not working perfectly by any means, for Britain recently made a trade deal with the Communist dictator. And last week while Castro was in Moscow, a new Soviet-Cuban trade agreement was announced. In return for the favor, Castro promised to sign the atomic test ban treaty. All the while, he continues to try to export his revolution to other Latin American countries.

> Argentina is wealthy, 92% literate, has relatively good transport and communications systems--and chronic political problems. The government, backed by the military, which threw out the previous freely elected President, has strong nationalistic leanings--some State Department officials are worried that the country could turn to isolationism. The party of exiled Dictator Juan Peron is still a force, but the strength of Castro Communism has declined.

> Bolivia has a liberal, anti-Communist government that gets heavy U.S. aid to ease the threat of a tough Communist Party movement well-stocked with Castro-trained saboteurs.

> Brazil lives in an endless financial crisis, is so deeply in debt to other countries that it is on the brink of bankruptcy. The country's inflation is incredible: prices went up about 85% last year. Much to blame is the government of demagogic President Joao Goulart, who hints that he would turn to the Soviet Union if the U.S. cut its financial aid. The U.S. continues to pour in money, will probably reschedule all Brazil's debts soon for easier payment.

> Chile's government is conservative, but the popular trend is toward nationalization of copper mines owned by U.S. companies. A powerful and worrisome Communist Party controls 30% of Chilean voters, but Chile remains a solid U.S. friend.

> Colombia has been cursed by a senseless spree of murder and looting that began with a political assassination in 1948, has since claimed more than 200,000 lives. U.S. Army Special Forces are in Colombia to give advice. Colombia's democratic government is relatively progressive but is less impressive than was the regime of brilliant ex-President Alberto Lleras Camargo, who left office in 1962.

> Costa Rica in prospering under one of Latin America's strongest democratic governments.

> The Dominican Republic has embarrassed the U.S. for decades. After the U.S.-encouraged assassination of Dictator Trujillo in 1961, the U.S. in 1962 ardently supported Author Juan Bosch, an exile for 24 years, in presidential elections. He won, then allowed Dominican Communists to organize openly and proved to be inept. Fed up, the Dominican army threw Bosch out, but the U.S.--with a fixed policy in favor of constitutional government even when it is bad--broke off relations with the junta. Later it got promises that there would be free elections, and relations were restored. But U.S. Ambassador John Bartlow Martin, primary backer of Bosch, resigned, and a new ambassador has not yet been named.

> Ecuador's military leaders last year ousted liquor-loaded President Carlos Arosemena, now promise free elections in 1965. The government is friendly to the U.S., recently headed off a blooming Castro-Communist movement.

> El Salvador has a good democratic-reformist government, is prospering, gets powerful U.S. support and aid.

> Guatemala's President Miguel Ydigoras Fuentes was ousted by a military junta last spring. Despite the fact that Ydigoras is a long and fervent foe of Communism, the junta saw the possibility that Communists would take over in approaching elections. The new government got quick U.S. recognition and now, with free elections promised, is promoting a string of democratic reforms.

> Haiti's murderous Dictator Franc,ois ("Papa Doc") Duvalier survived efforts, applauded by the U.S., to overthrow him last spring, looked on with stony satisfaction last month when the U.S. quietly resumed full diplomatic relations. His country is poverty-stricken and in a state of chaos.

> Honduras is run by a junta that took over in a barracks-room coup last October. The U.S. severed relations and cut off aid money, then restored it all after a promise of free elections.

> Mexico's democratic President Adolfo Lopez Mateos is one of the U.S.'s warmest friends, and since last year's settlement of the century-old dispute over the Chamizal border strip (negotiated by Tom Mann while ambassador to Mexico), the friendship has never been warmer. But Mexico maintains diplomatic relations with Cuba and is neutral in the U.S.-Cuba conflict.

> Nicaragua, although it has an elected President, is run by the U.S.-inclined Somoza family, which owns outright a great part of the nation.

> Paraguay's "elected" Dictator Alfre do Stroessner has instituted some democratic reforms--under U.S. urging--and seems to be a reliable friend.

> Peru elected a liberal government last summer, after a military junta had ruled for a year. The U.S. is leary of the possibility that Peruvians may want to nationalize some of the rich oil industry now owned by U.S. companies.

> Uruguay's middle-roading nine-man governing council is on the best of terms with the U.S.

> Venezuela's powerful President Romulo Betancourt, one of the U.S.'s finest friends, steps out of power this year. He will be replaced by Raul Leoni, who was elected last fall despite vicious terrorist tactics of Castro Communists. Venezuela is one of Latin America's most progressive democratic countries, but the U.S. is worried that Leoni may prove to be not so strong as Betancourt.

Speaking in Tex-Mex. From this turmoil of differing governments, personalities, politics, ethics and economies, Tom Mann will try to produce a viable set of policies for U.S. action and reaction in the months ahead. A solid (5 ft. 10 in., 180 Ibs.), firm-jawed man who likes to call himself "a country lawyer from Texas," he has spent his entire lifetime in dealings, both personal and professional, with Latin America.

Born in Laredo, with a population that was 85% Mexican-American, Mann grew up speaking both English and a border-town pidgin Spanish called Tex-Mex. His father was a lawyer who "laid down very stern standards about ethics and the law in our house." The family code was backed by the austere beliefs of the Southern Baptist Church ("We didn't even play cards"). In high school, young Mann was chosen "most popular boy" in his senior year, scored well enough in his studies (all A's and B's), but is best remembered as a diminutive (138 Ibs.) quarterback who led Laredo to an undefeated 1927 season by singing out his signals in a mixture of English and Spanish, to the vast confusion of monolingual opponents.

At Baylor University he met Nancy Aynesworth, daughter of a prominent Waco, Texas, physician. They were married in 1933 during Mann's senior year at Baylor Law School and went to Laredo, where Tom went into practice with his father and brothers for $100 a month. Then came Pearl Harbor, and Tom drove 150 miles to Corpus Christi to join the Navy. When he took his physical exam, he found he couldn't even read the largest E on the eye chart. "I had read so much in preparing those appellate cases," he says, "that I had a muscle-freeze in my eyes. The Navy wouldn't take me, and I felt pretty despondent. I was 29, and I wanted to do something for my country."

He volunteered to do legal work for the State Department, wound up in Montevideo, Uruguay, keeping a cloak-without-dagger eye on Nazi shipping in the area. Within a year he was recalled to the State Department in Washington, was made a divisional assistant in charge of "economic warfare in Latin America" --watching Axis business operations in the whole area. Just before the war ended, Mann went to Mexico City for the Chapultepec Conference. That meeting set down the concept for a U.S.-Latin American defense plan that was to become the Rio Treaty of 1947--still the Western Hemisphere's key joint-defense document.

Starting Over. Ever since, Mann has been close to Latin American affairs. In 1947, he let Spruille Braden, then Harry Truman's Assistant Secretary of State for American Republic Affairs, talk him into joining the U.S. foreign service at a 40% pay cut--from the $11,000 he got in his special State Department civilian rank to $7,000 as a regular foreign service officer. "I started all over again as a second secretary at the embassy in Caracas," recalls Mann. He turned in a fine job, was recalled to Washington and in 1950 was made a deputy assistant secretary. "I was called a 'Truman-Acheson Democrat' at that time," he remembers. "Later, I was called an 'Eisenhower appointee,' and now I hear they call me a 'crony of the President.' "

Those were tough, frustrating times for State Department careerists in Washington, and in 1953 Mann got "fed up with all the McCarthy stuff," asked for an overseas assignment, went to Athens as embassy counselor. But even if he had wanted to, Mann could not shake his reputation as an expert on Latin America. A Communist-riddled government, with President Jacobo Arbenz as the front man, had taken over Guatemala. The State Department began its strategy--to isolate the country under the Rio Treaty. But at the same time the Central Intelligence Agency plunged ahead with a plot to back an armed assault on Arbenz' gang by Guatemalan exiles from neighboring Honduras and Nicaragua. Mann was summoned from Athens for a consultation, heard both plans, favored the CIA. "I was an activist in that case," he recalls. A short time later, the U.S.-backed exiles stormed into Guatemala City, ousted Arbenz.

Mann was offered the ambassador's post in Guatemala but turned it down because "I didn't feel I was really qualified by age or service experience." He went instead as deputy chief of mission to Guatemala, a year later was named ambassador to El Salvador, and in 1957 returned to Washington to serve with Douglas Dillon, then Ike's Deputy Under Secretary of State for Economic Affairs.

Symbol of Victory. The years of the Latin American revolution were at hand. One of the first inklings of the deep and dangerous emotions brewing in Latin America came in 1958, when Vice President Richard Nixon was nearly killed under a rain of saliva, stones and sticks during a visit to Caracas. The U.S. was shocked, frightened, incredulous at such fierce hatred from a supposedly Good Neighbor. A few months later, Fidel Castro and his followers swept out of the hills of Oriente province in Cuba and overthrew the cruel regime of Dictator Fulgencio Batista. No sooner had he taken over than Castro turned dictator himself, began slaughtering those who had opposed him. Even in his scurrilous attacks on the U.S., Castro became an idol to many Latin Americans, for they saw him as a heroic nationalist--a symbol of victory by the oppressed.

In a faltering way, the U.S. set out to meet the situation. It loosened up its economic policies, made loans easier to get. In 1960, with decisive U.S. support, the Inter-American Development Bank was set up, with a $1 billion lending capacity. Then Dwight Eisenhower went before the Congress and asked for $500 million that would be spent on projects "designed to contribute to opportunities for a better way of life for the individual citizens of the countries of Latin America."

The dream of a Latin America prospering with U.S. help seemed on the way to becoming reality. And with the arrival of the Kennedy Administration in 1961 came the brightest hopes of all. During his campaign, Kennedy talked at length and with devastating political effectiveness about the "battlefield" of Latin America and about its being "the most critical area in the world." But in practice, the Kennedy Administration's Latin American policy proved to be more a proliferation of personnel than of promises kept.

The Crowded Act. Mann himself was then Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs. Around and about him was a "task force" headed by aging, imperious Adolf Berle, a Latin expert under F.D.R. There was also a youthful White House speechwriter, Richard Goodwin, whom John Kennedy fancied as a real idea man about Latin America. Berle and Goodwin superimposed their decisions and advice on those State Department regulars, and there is little doubt that one reason for the Bay of Pigs invasion fiasco was the number of fingers dipping into the Cuban problem. U.S. policy toward Latin America was in a state of confusion, conflict and frustration. Once more Mann asked to get out, soon left for the ambassador's post in Mexico.

For months there was no Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs. Then Kennedy brought in Robert Woodward, a career diplomat. He lasted a year. In the meantime, Harvard Historian Arthur Schlesinger Jr. joined Goodwin in making White House policy to go along with the State Department policy Berle was making and the programs put forth by the CIA and the Defense Department. Bobby Kennedy tried a trip to Latin America; so did Adlai Stevenson and Kennedy himself. Eventually, Edwin Martin was made Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs. He served until President Johnson, in his first major appointment, returned Mann to the job he had left nearly three years before and sent Martin off as ambassador to Argentina.

During this entire period, the Alianza para el Progreso remained the top conversational subject in U.S.-Latin American relations. The Alianza pledged $20 billion in aid (mostly U.S.) over ten years, plus a highly ambitious investment of another $8 billion annually from Latin American business and government. As its goal, the Alianza aimed at increasing the per-capita growth rate of each country by a whopping 2.5% a year. To get the cash, each Latin American country would submit a blueprint for social reforms--from schools to housing to tax collection to cutting up the wealthy landowners' huge holdings for small farmers' use.

So far, the Alianza has fallen far short of its promises. Few governments have accomplished much toward real reforms; yet nearly all have collected millions of dollars--as "emergency loans." Said Alfonso Gumucio Reyes, Bolivia's Minister of Economy: "To speak the truth, I am not satisfied with the Alianza. It is an engine that is idling. Did it raise too much hope? Kennedy suggested that a miracle was about to happen. But unless this sense of urgency is duly acknowledged, it will be difficult to stem the masses' loss of faith."

Two Kinds of Nationalism. Thomas Mann, the Texas pragmatist, still thinks there is hope. "I believe in the Alianza" he says, "But we must not believe that it is going to solve all problems. It is not a panacea. Countries lacking a good internal structure cannot expect to prosper with Alianza help--or, for that matter, with all the money in the world. Each country has to be studied as an individual case with individual idiosyncrasies and approaches. Our intention is to work with anybody who seriously wants to survive."

Mann believes that the real hope for a peaceful, prosperous Latin America in the future lies beyond the Alianza--in each nation's pride in itself. Says he: "There are two kinds of nationalism afoot in Latin America. The first kind, I believe, is the best bulwark we've got against the Communists, and the Latin American who doesn't sense it isn't doing his country a bit of good. This kind of nationalism means knowing who you are and for what your country stands. But there's another kind--xenophobic nationalism. This is what can impede the achievement of the Alianza goals: xenophobic nationalism tears down all that the hemisphere stands for. When people in this hemisphere believe that their country's interests lie on a parallel course with another--like ours--then we have a coincidence of interest. And that is the only means for solid understanding."

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