Paraguay’s ‘Popular’ Dictator

Three assumptions about Latin American military regimes— they are unpopular; they remain in power by force alone; they can be imposed and/or survive only with American help—are being eroded. This erosion is easy enough to explain in the cases of Panama, Peru and Bolivia; all three dictatorships are avowedly leftist, and the latter two made the expropriation of American companies their first official acts. In the case of Brazil, the evidence is still not clear; and in the case of Argentina, the patent unpopularity of General Levingston’s regime, culminating in its overthrow in March, lends credence to at least the first of the classic assumptions. But in Paraguay, where General Alfredo Stroessner’s military dictatorship has ruled unchallenged for sixteen years, the paradox fairly bristles. Stroessner, even his enemies within the country concede, would poll a majority of the vote if an absolutely free election were held tomorrow. His most solid support comes not from the businessmen, the Church or even the army, but from the poorest and most numerous class in Paraguay —the campesinos (peasants).

To understand why this is so, it is not enough to appreciate the personality of General Stroessner and the composition of his Colorado Party, though both of these are essential. One must also go at least as far back in Paraguay’s battle-scarred history as the Chaco War with Bolivia (1932-1935), and even, perhaps, to the War of the Triple Alliance (1865-1870) when the vainglorious dictator Francisco Solano López persuaded his people to challenge Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay combined, and in the process not only lost everything, including his life, but reduced Paraguay’s population from just under a million to 221,079 of whom only 28,746 were adult males. The fact that Solano López is still universally revered as the father of his country tells something about Paraguay. And the fact that Paraguayans willingly suffered a second holocaust in 1932 for reasons as incomprehensible tells the rest of the pre-Stroessner story. In the square near the presidential palace (a baby-blue wedding cake built by Solano López to remind his Irish mistress of the Louvre) soldiers goose-step around a flag planted in one of the three tanks captured by the Paraguayans from the Bolivians during the Chaco War. And near the Brazilian border there still stands a monument inscribed “To Twenty Heroic Brazilians Killed by One Paraguayan Coward.”

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Selden Rodman

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Three assumptions about Latin American military regimes— they are unpopular; they remain in power by force alone; they can be imposed and/or survive only with American help—are being eroded. This erosion is easy enough to explain in the cases of Panama, Peru and Bolivia; all three dictatorships are avowedly leftist, and the latter two made the expropriation of American companies their first official acts. In the case of Brazil, the evidence is still not clear; and in the case of Argentina, the patent unpopularity of General Levingston’s regime, culminating in its overthrow in March, lends credence to at least the first of the classic assumptions. But in Paraguay, where General Alfredo Stroessner’s military dictatorship has ruled unchallenged for sixteen years, the paradox fairly bristles. Stroessner, even his enemies within the country concede, would poll a majority of the vote if an absolutely free election were held tomorrow. His most solid support comes not from the businessmen, the Church or even the army, but from the poorest and most numerous class in Paraguay —the campesinos (peasants).

To understand why this is so, it is not enough to appreciate the personality of General Stroessner and the composition of his Colorado Party, though both of these are essential. One must also go at least as far back in Paraguay’s battle-scarred history as the Chaco War with Bolivia (1932-1935), and even, perhaps, to the War of the Triple Alliance (1865-1870) when the vainglorious dictator Francisco Solano López persuaded his people to challenge Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay combined, and in the process not only lost everything, including his life, but reduced Paraguay’s population from just under a million to 221,079 of whom only 28,746 were adult males. The fact that Solano López is still universally revered as the father of his country tells something about Paraguay. And the fact that Paraguayans willingly suffered a second holocaust in 1932 for reasons as incomprehensible tells the rest of the pre-Stroessner story. In the square near the presidential palace (a baby-blue wedding cake built by Solano López to remind his Irish mistress of the Louvre) soldiers goose-step around a flag planted in one of the three tanks captured by the Paraguayans from the Bolivians during the Chaco War. And near the Brazilian border there still stands a monument inscribed “To Twenty Heroic Brazilians Killed by One Paraguayan Coward.”