"Permit Me to Leave"

The chant echoed like a thundering pulse beat: "Cuatro mas! Cuatro mas! --Four more! Four more!" On the banner-draped platform in Mayagueez one day last week, the top leaders of Puerto Rico's Popular Democratic Party watched tensely as the bearlike man at the microphone motioned for quiet. Then came the news: "I want to return to what created the Popular Democratic Party 25 years ago, to what liberated the energy that constructed the Puerto Rico of today. I want to return to the school, to the farmyard, to the hearts of the people so that all together we can forge the Puerto Rico of the next 25 years. Permit me to leave office to serve the democracy of Puerto Rico."

Luis Munoz Marin, 66, Governor of Puerto Rico, architect of the island's life-giving Operation Bootstrap and its unique commonwealth status, was stepping aside after four terms (16 years) in office. He would not, he insisted, be his party's gubernatorial candidate in the Nov. 3 elections. He would accept nomination for the senate, whence he came, but nothing more. "You must have confidence in yourselves," he pleaded. "You have honored me as a leader and as a teacher, and now the teacher says: 'It is time to return to the class.' " No sooner had Munoz finished than the chants erupted again--louder and fiercer. He grabbed the microphone. "You cannot make me violate my own conscience!" he roared above the din--and that was that.

Essence & Energy. To Puerto Ricans, the Munoz announcement meant much more than the leave-taking of an able administrator and brilliant politician. For more than a generation Munoz has been the island's one and only leader--vigorous, charismatic, the essence and energy of an economic and social revolution that has touched the lives of every Puerto Rican.

The son of a venerated Puerto Rican statesman, Munoz studied law at Washington's Georgetown University, returned to Puerto Rico in 1926, and has been fighting the island's cause ever since. At that time, Puerto Rico was little more than a sugar barony controlled by a few large U.S. companies; per capita income was a pitiable $120 a year. In 1938, Munoz formed his Popular Democratic Party, four years later as senate president organized Operation Bootstrap, and was soon luring mainland industry to Puerto Rico. With generous tax incentives and cheap, plentiful labor, company after company found it profitable to set up plants until today the island's gross national product is growing 11% a year, wages average $1.11 an hour, new investment is running $1,000,000 a day, and per capita income is up to $740--second highest in Latin America, surpassed only by oil-rich Venezuela.

Best of Both Worlds. Some Latin Americans sneer at the success, accuse Munoz of running a sugar-coated Yanqui labor colony, swapping independence for U.S. dollars. Puerto Ricans know better. They are fiercely proud of their "Spanishness" and regard their unique commonwealth status in "free association" with the U.S. as the best of both worlds. Under the 1951 compact with Congress, Puerto Rico lies somewhere between a territory and a full-fledged state. The U.S. protects the island, and Puerto Ricans are U.S. citizens--though they pay no federal taxes.

They have no vote in Congress and cannot vote for President, but their local government is completely independent --Congress cannot overrule island legislation. A few rabid Independentistas make trouble now and then, and a small but a growing group agitates for statehood. Yet in every election since 1952, Munoz and his Popular Democrats have walked off with between 58% and 65% of the vote.

When he won his fourth term in 1960, Munoz started preparing for the day when others would take over the reins. He transferred the party chairmanship to a seven-man committee, took fewer stands on major legislative matters, started lecturing his party on the need for becoming "more democratic," and urged senators and representatives to become more independent. When Munoz was away from his desk, the man he left in charge was Secretary of State (Vice Governor) Roberto Sanchez Vilella, 51, a U.S.-educated (Ohio State) civil engineer who has been Munoz' able and dedicated top lieutenant for 16 years. If and when Munoz stepped down, Sanchez Vilella was his choice for Governor.

"It Was Awful." A few days before last week's convention, Munoz called in Sanchez Vilella, told him that he would be nominated for the governorship. Munoz would still keep a hand in things from his senate seat. But Sanchez Vilella would be in command. "My presence in the senate will be as unobtrusive as possible," said Munoz.

In Puerto Rico no one can really succeed Luis Munoz Marin--and no one knows it better than Sanchez Vilella. He is extremely shy, has none of the klieg-light blaze and charm of Munoz. Last week, while Munoz fought through his farewell speech, Sanchez Vilella stood nervously mopping his face with a handkerchief balled tightly around an ice cube. "I was paralyzed," he said later. "It was awful. There was one moment when the crowd was almost hysterical, shouting 'No, no,' and I was snouting it too. Inside." But Puerto Ricans know him as a first-rate administrator, smart, experienced and quite capable of carrying on from the big, broad base Munoz laid.

"We are on our own now," says Sanchez Vilella, "and we cannot be afraid."

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