Moving for History

Much of the hesitation about employing a strong policy against Castro has been based on the fear of distressing repercussions in Latin America. Yet last week the Organization of American States, meeting in Washington, took little time to make up its mind. A smog of cigarette smoke clouded the wood-paneled room as delegates from 20 OAS nations heard the choice: approval or disapproval of the unilateral U.S. action on Cuba, and yes or no to a U.S. resolution calling for a united hemisphere stand to eliminate the threat of Communist offensive arms in Cuba.

As Latin Americans rose to speak and vote, U.S. Secretary of State Dean Rusk looked squarely at each ambassador. Said Guatemala's Carlos Urrutia Aparicio: "This is no hour for limp diapers and half-measures--we move now for history." One by one, 19 nations voted "aye" to the resolution. Only little Uruguay, lacking instructions from home, abstained. And when the word came from Montevideo, Uruguay made it unanimous.

Tangible Menace. This dramatic expression of hemisphere solidarity was the end of a long, patient road for the U.S., and a signal victory for Dean Rusk. Time after time in past conferences the U.S. had urged on its neighbors the need to confront Castro and Communism. Yet always before, the key nations of Latin America had ducked a commitment. Lingering prejudice against Yankee intervention and the fear of left-led masses back home turned last January's Punta del Este conference into a weary marathon. Patiently, Rusk had listened to the arguments from Mexico, Brazil and the others. Doggedly, he wheedled and compromised for endless days to win the necessary two-thirds majority (14 votes) for the blandest sort of condemnation of Castro's dictatorship. But this time, faced by the tangible menace of Russian missiles, the U.S. decided to act in its own self-defense, and then to ask for hemispheric approval. Latin America's response was a general sigh of relief and a willingness to follow U.S. leadership.

Off the Fence. The doubtful nations were Mexico and Brazil, two of the hemisphere's biggest powers and the two nations that have consistently balked at taking a hard line against Castro. Any muscle flexing by the U.S. inevitably recalls to Mexicans the days when the U.S. sent troops into Mexico and U.S. ships bombarded Veracruz. But now the Communist invasion of the Caribbean was a clear and present danger--to Mexicans as well as Americans. Mexico's President Adolfo Lopez Mateos got advance notification of Kennedy's speech while he was in Manila on his way back from an Asian tour. He put Mexico decisively on the U.S. side. When he returned home two days later, he told a cheering crowd in Mexico City's main plaza: "We are in the lines of democracy. We will fight for peace and liberty." A high government official put Mexico's feelings more informally: "You Americans didn't know how to get Latin American support before. Any country admires guts.''

The shift was not so clear in Brazil. At a midnight conference in the Cabinet room of Rio's Laranjeiras palace. Ambassador Lincoln Gordon delivered a personal letter from the U.S. President, accompanied by a verbal explanation. Goulart's first reaction was silence. But next day Brazil's OAS delegate voted in favor of the arms quarantine, abstained on the section proposing military action, and then in effect wiped out the abstention by approving the resolution as a whole, including the section on the "use of armed force" to eliminate Communist missiles.

Some Brazilians later claimed that Brazil had not and would not condemn the Cuban regime or authorize an invasion. Goulart's Yankee-hating brother-in-law, Congressman-elect Leonel Brizola. charged that the Brazilian delegate had disobeyed orders, but the government announced later that he had not.

Predictably there were leftist street demonstrations in some Latin American cities, but they were neither large nor militant. Latin Americans generally seemed to support the stand taken by their governments. A few countries even offered material as well as moral support to the U.S. Tiny Costa Rica, which proudly counts more teachers than soldiers, offered its ports and airports to U.S. forces involved in the blockade. Argentina. Colombia and Venezuela promised naval vessels. And Honduras, with a grand disregard for Castro's MIG 21s, offered its one squadron of World War II prop-driven Corsair fighter planes.

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