Responsibility & Deadlock

The initials were printed on armbands and steel helmets, on flags and on the hoods of patrolling Jeeps. "OEA," the Spanish abbreviation for the Organization of American States, signaled a growing hemispheric presence and new responsibility in the scarred city of Santo Domingo.

In seven weeks of sporadic fighting and tortured negotiations, the U.S., acting largely alone, had managed to impose a shaky truce between the loyalist forces of Brigadier General Antonio Imbert Barreras and the collection of rebellious soldiers, discontented civilians and Communist infiltrators led by Colonel Francisco Caamano Deno. Now the U.S. was trying hard to move into the background. It was time for Latin Americans, however reluctant, to share the burden of keeping peace and restoring some sort of workable government to the bloodied little nation.

Man in Command. At his headquarters in the Jaragua Hotel, Brazilian General Hugo Panasco Alvim, 64, took command of the 23,000-man OAS military force from U.S. Lieut. General Bruce Palmer. "I'm happy to serve under you, General," said Palmer, and there was no question that Alvim meant to run the show. "You speak Spanish, General?" asked Alvim. "I'm trying^ sir," replied Palmer. "Well, you'd better learn," said Alvim.

After a look around, Alvim advised President Johnson that the situation seemed well enough in hand to withdraw more U.S. troops. Almost immediately, Johnson ordered the last 2,100 marines out, leaving 12,500 U.S. paratroopers and 1,560 troops from Brazil, Costa Rica, Honduras and Nicaragua, plus a 6,500-man U.S. Navy task force offshore.

Alvim called on both loyalists and rebels to "demonstrate democratic and humanitarian understanding by finding a dignified formula for the re-establishment of a lasting peace." That was obviously a long way off, but to underscore his message, General Alvim sent a battalion of Brazilian infantrymen to secure Santo Domingo's bullet-pocked National Palace on the fringe of the rebel zone. From the first days of the civil war, the palace had been held by Imbert's loyalists, who beat off rebel attacks. Now Alvim wanted the shooting to cease. As the OAS troops marched in to guard the building, Imbert's soldiers reluctantly got into trucks and withdrew, leaving behind only a corporal's guard of 25 men.

Cutting the Ground. Until now, Imbert had been insisting on a fight to the finish against Caamano. He was still grumbling, and so were his officers, who were itching to clean out the rebels. But after days of talk with OAS Secretary-General Jose Mora, Imbert at last agreed that a bloodbath was hardly the answer to the Dominican Republic's ills, accepted an OAS plan to hold new elections, possibly within the next two to three months.

"My government," answered Imbert, "is convinced that the most just and effective solution is the return to constitutionality by means of a free election." Moreover, it would be a genuine election. Imbert ruled out himself and members of his junta as candidates, agreed that all previously recognized political parties could enter candidates. This meant that Joaquin Balaguer, 57, who served as President before and after the death of Dictator Rafael Trujillo, could run. as well as Antonio Guzman, the Minister of Agriculture under deposed President Juan Bosch--and even Bosch himself, if he ever chooses to leave his Puerto Rican exile.

Imbert's decision cut the ground from under Caamano, who claims that he is fighting for a return to democracy. At the news of Imbert's agreement, Caamano muttered: "It's a fairy tale." He flatly refused to participate in new elections, still demanded a return to the 1963 constitution--which means that Caamano would serve out the remaining two years of Bosch's term. Ignored was the technicality that the 1963 constitution forbids military officers from holding office. "First," cried Caamano, "the revolution's goal must be fulfilled. After that we can talk about elections." To some Americans this sounded like a rerun of Fidel Castro's old tapes--and the scenes in the rebel-held area of downtown Santo Domingo did little to dispel the impression. When OAS cars arrived outside Caamano's headquarters, hostile crowds closed around them chanting, "With or without the OAS, we will win!" At a rally in the rebel area, he shouted to a crowd of 8,000: "We will never lose!" "Yankees out! Yankees out!" chanted the mob. The rebel newspaper Patria--Fatherland--called the Americans "the direct inheritors of the Nazism of Adolf Hitler."

When three U.S. paratroopers made a wrong turn and were captured in rebel territory, Caamano refused to turn them over to the OAS without a witness from the United Nations. He ordered his followers not to cash OAS checks for back government pay, refused to place the cable and banking facilities in his area under OAS auspices. Throughout the week, snipers pecked away from the rebel zone, adding one more wounded to the list of 139 U.S. casualties, and several mortar shells, fired probably by Imbert's troops, hit rebel territory, killing at least two people.

Seventh Mission. To hear Caamano tell it, one signal from him and the countryside would flare in revolt. "We have commandos throughout the entire country," he warned. "We don't want to bloody the nation, but we will use them if we have to." How much genuine strength he has outside Santo Domingo is open to question, but there was disturbing evidence of increasing rebel activity in the countryside. The fertile northern farming area of Cibao reported hit-and-run raids on army barracks. In the country's second city, Santiago, police rounded up 100 suspected rebels, seized 30,000 rounds of ammunition, four machine guns, and 20 rifles. At week's end, a three-man team of OAS ambassadors--Brazil's Ilmar Penna Marinho, El Salvador's Ramon de Clairmont Duefias and the U.S.'s Ells worth Bunker--landed in Santo Do mingo to help Secretary-General Mora in his attempts to negotiate a settlement. It was the seventh peace-seeking mission in six weeks. The hope was that Caamano could be persuaded to agree to OAS-held elections. But at rebel headquarters, a spokesman said that Juan Bosch had just telephoned a message for Caamano from Puerto Rico: "Have nothing to do with elections."

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