Monday, Sep. 15, 1975

The Cocktail Coup

Ecuador, which happens to be the world's largest exporter of bananas, has often been regarded as the quintessential banana republic. Though the country has been stable for the past 3 1/2 years, some sophisticated Ecuadorians still evaluate coups the way other people rate horses or vintage wines. Last weekend's abortive attempt to oust President Guillermo Rodriguez Lara, which left in its wake 17 people dead and 80 wounded, ranked very low on the scale. "I've never seen a coup so stupidly organized," sniffed one Quito connoisseur.

Architects of the fiasco were General Raul Gonzalez Alvear, the army chief of staff, and his brother-in-law General Alejandro Soils Rosera, head of the national war college. Their muzzy plot -"it must have been brewed before cocktails and executed after," as one foreign diplomat put it -was to surround the national palace in Quito and force the resignation of roly-poly President Rodriguez (known informally to his countrymen as el Bombita, or the little balloon), who has been Ecuador's benign, reformist dictator since leading a successful military coup in 1972. Setting up headquarters in a funeral parlor, the two rebel generals marshaled their forces, which consisted of 150 soldiers and six ancient U.S. Army tanks. The tanks are so old that one Ecuadorian general, upon returning from the U.S. recently, complained that there was one on display at the military museum in Fort Leavenworth, Kans.

Things went wrong right from the start. When General Soils visited one of the capital's garrisons to get its support, a startled guard heard his request and then sent him off to jail -where he still remains. Gonzalez, meanwhile, distributed manifestoes proclaiming the rebellion before it had begun. As it happened, President Rodriguez was one of the recipients of a copy. He quickly escaped to a friendly garrison 120 miles south of the capital, leaving his wife and five children behind in the palace.

Late Sunday night, Gonzalez's band of rebels attacked the 18th century palace. They overwhelmed the 34 members of the palace guard, who wear gold-trimmed blue coats, white breeches and tasseled pillbox hats and are meant mostly for display. Ignoring all the basic rules for carrying out a coup, Gonzalez neglected to close down Quito's airport and take over its radio stations -one of which refused to broadcast his manifesto on the ground that it sounded unbelievable. He also generously allowed Rodriguez's wife and children to leave the palace, thereby giving away one of his few bargaining cards. Early Monday morning, Quito stations began broadcasting a roll call of officers who remained loyal to Rodriguez. Air force planes buzzed the occupied palace, which was soon surrounded by troops of the loyal Vencedores battalion. By 4 in the afternoon it was all over. The rebel troops surrendered, but in the confusion, Gonzalez -dressed in civilian clothes -somehow managed to walk out of the palace unnoticed and gain asylum in the Chilean embassy nearby.

Motley Mob. In the wake of the attempted coup, a motley mob of Quito citizens ransacked the palace, carrying off rugs, lamps and other portable goodies. Otherwise, there was little popular support for the coup even though Rodriguez's regime has lately been in considerable economic trouble. In the first half of 1974, Ecuador exported $444 million worth of goods, primarily oil from its jungle wells, coffee and bananas. But then hypernationalistic government ministers raised the price of oil 54&#cent; per bbl. above OPEC's price. In protest, the oil companies severely limited production. Although revenues plummeted, Ecuador's nouveau riche refused to curtail their lust for new foreign cars and TV sets, thereby helping to create a trade deficit that for the first six months of 1975 was an estimated $170 million.

Belatedly bowing to reality, Rodriguez in July fired his Natural Resources Minister and dropped the price of oil 43¢ per bbl., whereupon the companies began pumping again. Recently the President announced the imposition of a stiff 60% tax on imported luxuries. That drew howls of complaints from shopkeepers in Quito and their customers, but it may be enough to get Ecuador back in the black.

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