The Assignment (2 page)

In the summer of that year, mopping-up operations on a large scale began, but the typography and the attitude of the inhabitants toward the army favored the guerrillas, and after six months or so the results were disappointing. In fact, far from being eliminated, the disturbances had spread to all parts of the province. The previously disbanded Communist Party appeared again in the guise of an underground Socialist organization, the Liberation Front, which sought to obtain recognition through lightning strikes and sabotage. At the same time the white population formed a Citizens’ Guard, which replied to the sabotage with terrorist tactics. In September 1961 the situation had become untenable. No work or transportation of goods was possible except under military guard. Most of the properties in the southern area of the
province had been abandoned by their owners, the number of terrorist murders increased, and more and more people were executed after summary trials by military courts.

At this stage the federal government fell, and in the new presidential elections, the Liberal candidate, Miroslavan Radamek, a self-taught lawyer and son of a peasant from one of the agricultural states in the north, was victorious. The elections were held in an atmosphere of powerful international pressure, and Radamek’s name was put forward as a compromise designed to placate all parties.

The government made energetic efforts to put an end to the crisis in the beleaguered province. Military operations were halted, and the army received orders to hold themselves in readiness. The responsibility for public order was put into the hands of the Federal Police, which government propaganda had christened
La Policia de la Paz
, or Peace Force. When the President promised to look into the question of provincial self-government and announced agricultural reforms and numerous social improvements, it seemed that the situation would soon be brought under control.

Seven months after Radamek’s accession to power, however, the disturbances flared up again. Only a few of the promises of social reform had been fulfilled, the employers harassed their employees more than ever, and the committee that was working on the self-government proposals had made no progress. Open fighting broke out between the Liberation Front and the Citizens’ Guard, and the state of emergency which had been lifted six months earlier had to be proclaimed again. The President now had only one choice: to take up direct negotiations with the opposing parties before a neutral arbitration commission. A Provincial Resident was placed at the head of this commission. The choice fell upon a retired army officer, General Orestes de Larrinaga. He was sixty-two years old, had never mixed in politics, and was generally respected because of his military achievements.

General Larrinaga’s arrival at the Governor’s Palace brought a temporary relaxation of the tension, but a few weeks later the situation again became critical. Assaults on civilians and attacks on private property resumed. More often than not the surveyors sent out by the reform commission were chased off by the landowners before they had had time to do any work; some of them were murdered and others disappeared altogether. The Liberation Front replied with raids in the countryside, and in the town armed groups of the Citizens’ Guard openly patrolled the streets.

On May 20 the Liberation Front dropped a leaflet accusing the Provincial Resident of having been bought by the right-wing element and of representing the interests of the landowners and the capitalists. Several days later his life was threatened. Although a representative of the Liberation Front denied responsibility for the threat, it was repeated twice during the week, the last time on the evening of June 5. The threat gave rise to more violence against the natives.

The only person who seemed unconcerned was the Resident himself. Every morning at eight o’clock he drove with a military escort from his home in the residential sector to the Governor’s Palace. He was often accompanied by his twenty-six-year-old daughter, who taught at the Catholic school.

Orestes de Larrinaga played his part as a national hero with imposing consistency and great calm. Although little was known about his activities within the walls of his office, he had somehow become a symbol of security for tens of thousands of people.

This, then, was the situation in the capital of the province on the morning of June 6.

The new Resident was selected less than twenty-four hours after the murder of General Larrinaga. His name was Manuel Ortega, and very few people had ever heard of him. The appointment reached him by telegram early in the morning on June 17, and he was given exactly four hours to decide whether to accept or decline.

Manuel Ortega was Assistant Trade Attaché at the Republic’s embassy in Stockholm. He had already held the post for two years and had had time to become used to Sweden. He lived in a furnished flat in Karlavägen in the Ostermalm part of the city, and about six months earlier he had sent for his family.

Outwardly he was fairly commonplace, a Latin in some ways but no one would have been surprised if he had turned out to be a Greek or a Pole or a Finn. He had brown hair and brown eyes, was five foot ten, and weighed a hundred and fifty pounds. A badly cared-for soccer injury from his university days had left him with a slight limp in his right leg, but it was noticeable only when he was in a hurry.

He was called to the embassy just before eight o’clock, and the Ambassador himself handed him the cable signed by the President of the Federal Republic. Manuel Ortega read it slowly and carefully with that lack of surprise one usually experiences in the face of something totally unexpected.

What on earth is this lousy job? he thought coldly.

And soon afterward: Might as well say no right away.

The Ambassador was wearing a smoking jacket and had not yet had time to shave. He was standing up because he was
altogether too nonplused to contemplate sitting down and he completely misunderstood the other man’s attitude.

“Naturally you’re asking yourself why you of all people should have been chosen. I can perhaps help to shed a little light on this point. You’re a lawyer and an economist, used to dealing in a businesslike way. What is needed down there is someone rational with a sense for practical solutions. You are nonpolitical too, and always have been. We others have all got our—well, our burdens.”

The Ambassador had held various ministerial posts in three consecutive half-Fascist governments, and since then had only with considerable difficulty survived a series of sensitive changes of regime.

He went on: “This is of course an interesting offer worth looking into. If you make any definite progress down there, you can consider yourself made. If you fail, on the other hand …”

He cleared his throat and at last sat down behind his desk.

“Sit down by all means, my dear fellow,” he said.

Manuel Ortega sat down in the visitor’s armchair and put the cable down on the desk. Then he leaned back and crossed his legs carefully so as not to spoil the crease in his trousers.

“On the other hand,” said the Ambassador, “the assignment should naturally not be overrated, nor the seriousness of the situation either, for that matter. Our country is large and prosperous and orderly. This border district … Have you ever been there, by the way?”

“No.”

“Well, I’ve flown over it once or twice. As I’ve said, this border district is, as you know, thinly populated and totally infertile. Thanks to a handful of farsighted pioneers and their sacrifices it has to a certain extent been made productive. These people and their descendants obviously have certain rights, which speak for themselves. The rest of the population is a backward minority which, of course, must be emancipated
gradually but which is still, for all practical purposes, ineducable. There are minorities like this in all countries, even here, you know …”

He snapped his fingers.

“Of course, the Lapps.”

“Exactly, but here it has been possible to make them into a tourist attraction thanks to the favorable geographical circumstances. The country down there lacks all that and is merely scorched and inaccessible. Despite the country’s efforts, and with the exception of a very small number of mines, it is still practically worthless. But you know all this as well as I do.”

Manuel made a vague but polite gesture.

“In any case the present situation would never have arisen if the atmosphere hadn’t been poisoned by foreign provocation and lying propaganda. Before this the army was always quite capable of keeping the territory under control. If it had been allowed to continue its operation six months ago, then … well, then we would not be sitting here discussing the matter.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment, looking across at the window. Then he said: “I knew Orestes de Larrinaga for a long time. He was a first-class officer and a great man. It is idiotic that an assignment like this should be the cause of his death. He was much too well qualified for the post and I don’t understand why he let himself be talked into accepting it.”

Manuel Ortega leaned forward and brushed a small flake of ash off his trousers. Suddenly he said: “Perhaps he wanted to do some good.”

“I doubt that this was the right way. But the tragedy is, of course, that he did do some good. It opened people’s eyes. Even so-called world opinion should, after this, see things in their right perspective. And as soon as foreign propaganda is silenced then the problem will cease to exist.”

He paused and sighed: “In any case, I certainly don’t want
to influence your decision, but I think you should be allowed to see a communication which arrived here last night.”

He took a folded slip from his briefcase and pushed it across the desk. The man in the armchair picked it up with a certain hesitation, as if he did not know whether to put it in his pocket or to begin reading it at once.

“Of course, my dear fellow, go ahead and read it.”

Manuel Ortega took his glasses out of his top pocket and unfolded the piece of pink paper. As he read he heard the continuous drumming of the Ambassador’s fingers on the edge of the desk.

“ministry of foreign affairs to all embassies: three hours after murder of provincial resident the following communique was sent out from leaders of citizens guard: one of the most famous men in our country, general orestes de larrinaga, has today fallen victim of a murderous communist assault. this terrible crime has three aims: (1) to remove a brilliant personality and an objective and just representative of the law and the government. (2) in this way to make way for a politician and an administration which has less power to resist foreign provocation. (3) to create anarchy. his death has deeply disturbed all right-minded inhabitants of the province. the most disturbing issue is the knowledge that general larrinaga died holding a meaningless post and that his and many other honorable mens lives could have been saved if the army had been allowed to fulfil its duty. we responsible citizens in this town and this province demand the immediate intervention of the army. we hereby place ourselves under the protection of the armed forces and we promise to give the troops every imaginable support in the fight against the reds who threaten to flood our country. we demand also that the provincial resident—if a successor to general larrinaga is to be appointed at all—shall have military forces at his disposal. as resident we can only accept an officer with technical knowledge of this area. if the government should give way to undue
outside pressure and appoint another official we demand that he should in the interests of the country refuse the assignment. if he does not we should be forced to use violence. a civilian provincial resident or anyone who wishes to accept this post without the full support of the army can assume that he is sentenced to death at the moment he accepts the assignment. two weeks at the latest after his arrival this sentence will be carried out. (this communique has been distributed by air, posted in public places, and broadcast in news bulletins.)”

Manuel Ortega folded up the piece of paper and placed it on the desk. He thought once again: What a lousy job. Aloud he said: “This hasn’t been mentioned in the newspapers.”

“My dear fellow, seen in a wider context, our problems are very minor and scarcely worthy of notice. I am not entirely convinced that even our own newspapers will take up the matter. The whole thing is futile. If General de Larrinaga had not been such a famous man, his death would certainly not have aroused any attention, at least outside the country. It all concerns just a handful of people who are far away, in their own country as well as from us.”

Manuel Ortega pointed at the slip and said: “Do you think, Excellency, that this stand they have taken can be defended?”

“Not officially, of course. But I imagine their position is very difficult, very difficult indeed. The death of Larrinaga has scared them considerably. He was the symbol of their security. Now they’re fighting desperately, not only for their rights but also for their lives. And the army is their only hope.”

“Do you think President Radamek will give the army a free rein?”