point,” U.S. chargé Hector Adam had nonetheless concluded that “there can no longer be any doubt that Bolivia, either through fear of reprisals or genuine willingness,” had “signed up” in a “southern bloc” with Argentina.1 If nothing else, Villarroel’s lynching put to rest any fears that Perón had a puppet in La Paz.
Those fears were replaced with jubilant optimism on the part of newly appointed ambassador Joseph Flack. When a junta headed by former judge Tomás Monje Gutiérrez eventually took control of Bolivia, promising a restoration of democracy, Flack took it upon himself to shepherd that process. The new regime faced impressive obstacles, including revolutionaries it could not control, fear of a MNR counterrevolution, and an Argentine food embargo that threatened to further destabilize an already unstable situation. Although Flack and his superiors did everything in their power to protect and assist the junta, the Reconstruction Finance Corporation was not so charitable. Picking up where it had left off, the RFC was determined to undo Bolivian ambassador Victor Andrade’s victory. In other words, the greatest threat to the new regime came not from vengeful peronistas or movimientistas, who were painting the names of the junta’s leaders on lampposts in anticipation of their counterrevolution, but from representatives of the same U.S. government that had pledged its full support.
Restoring Order to Revolutionary Bolivia
Villarroel’s sudden demise and the complete collapse of his government caught the established parties and the political class entirely off guard. In the wake of the army’s complete abandonment of Villarroel, chaos reigned in the streets
of La Paz. Although an informal Tripartite Committee of students, teachers, and workers attempted to restore order to the city, it failed to curb the mob violence: hordes of vengeful paceños descended on the foreign embassies where members of the old regime had taken refuge. Gangs of students besieged the Argentine and Ecuadoran embassies, firing guns into the air and hurling insults at those who were sheltering movimientistas and pro-Villarroel military officers. They even stopped and searched the car of the Peruvian ambassador, whose wife was related to the MNR ex-mayor.2
With the army discredited and confined to the barracks and the police unwilling to take to the streets, the hastily assembled new junta found it impossible to establish control of the nation. Composed largely of men employed directly or indirectly by the tin barons and former officials of the Peñaranda government who had not taken part in the uprising, it had an uphill battle restoring order to La Paz. Respected judge Tomás Monje Gutiérrez was named head of the junta but, for almost a month, was too ill to take charge. Néstor Guillén Olmos and Monje Gutiérrez took limited steps to reestablish control but could not risk either putting uniformed soldiers on the streets or attempting to disarm the revolutionaries. New police officers were issued badges stamped “21” to symbolize their support for the 21 July uprising and to give proof that any semblance of villarroelismo had been purged.3 Responding to a pervasive fear within the diplomatic corps that MNR members would be killed by mobs or arrested rather than exiled, a fear that precluded any prospect of immediate international recognition of the new government, the junta made restoring order and protecting members of the old regime seeking asylum its highest priorities.
For U.S. policy makers, especially Ambassador Flack, the threat of further bloodletting was the only shadow to darken what was otherwise a shining triumph. Flack had arrived in La Paz on the eve of the revolution and had narrowly missed being hit by a stray bullet. This did little to dampen his spirits, however: he immediately proclaimed the revolution to be “an act of pure democracy emanating from the people and accomplished almost entirely with their bare hands,” and believed that it could well produce the “first democratic government in Bolivian history.” He lauded the revolutionaries in the highest terms and believed that the refusal of the masses to turn in their guns actually “had a salutary effect on any ideas which the military may still cherish surreptitiously of eventually trying to retake the government.”4 In short, Flack argued that “democracy’s first steps are apt to be faltering” but “should be supported in every reasonable and decent way by our country.” The tin barons rejoiced as well, expecting “relief from the troublesome labor problems” of the recent past and an end to what they called Villarroel’s “odious labor laws.”5
Still, Ambassador Flack agreed with his diplomatic colleagues in La Paz that recognition had to be withheld until the government allowed MNR members an “unmolested departure to another country” because this would “present a test of Bolivian adherence to existing treaties and the junta’s authority to maintain order.” Despite U.S. hostility toward the MNR, the entire diplomatic corps hoped to avoid the “serious international incident” that the La Paz press seemed to be encouraging through its vilification of Paz Estenssoro and his followers. Although Flack understood that the State Department sought the “gain in good-will” that would accompany swift recognition, he could not “conscientiously recommend” it. The embassies that had granted asylum were depending on the United States for “moral support”; if it granted recognition unconditionally, Flack believed, there would be little reason for the junta to protect those embassies from vigilante justice or to permit the safe departure of MNR members.6
Early in August, Assistant Secretary of State Braden candidly explained the U.S. position to the new Bolivian ambassador, Ricardo Martínez Vargas, his longtime friend and a former member of Patiño’s board of directors: the State Department, though “favorably impressed by the composition and declared objectives of the junta” and desiring to aid and extend recognition to it, could not do so until both “adequate police control in La Paz” was established and the asylum situation was resolved. Martínez Vargas countered by suggesting that any “genuine, unanimous popular uprising of the people” was bound to “result in a strong demand that ‘criminals be brought to justice’ ” but agreed to impress upon the junta that “its good name abroad” and recognition could not be “disconnected” from the treatment of those seeking asylum.7 Monje eventually relented despite his desire to see the supporters of Villarroel tried and punished. Under pressure from both Buenos Aires and Washington, members of the junta approached the Tripartite Committee and apparently asked that it respect the sanctity of embassies. The students agreed and went so far as to act as embassy guards; they were even given soldiers to command.8
For Ambassador Flack and the State Department, this was “unequivocal evidence” of the junta’s authority and a “great credit” to its members. Indeed, Flack believed that this “commendable demonstration of authority” was also
a sufficient pretext for the United States to accord immediate recognition, which would create a “distinctly favorable psychological moment . . . beneficial to the junta in the maintenance of public order.” President Truman agreed. Monje and the junta continued to pleasantly surprise the Truman administration, by allowing MNR members to go into exile, by calling elections for the beginning of 1947, and what was perhaps most significant, by announcing on 11 October that none of their number would run for office, guaranteeing at least a modicum of impartiality.9
To support the new regime, U.S. diplomats found themselves at odds with their counterparts in La Paz, especially the Brazilians, who “had asked that we go slow, mainly for the purpose of not encouraging revolutions and the spilling of so much blood.” Indeed, weeks after U.S. recognition was secured, it became clear the junta’s control over even La Paz was far from complete. On 27 September, Luis Oblitas, a deranged young ex–army officer, burst into the Palacio Quemado brandishing a gun and threatened to kill Monje. According to Time, “the President, unbuttoning his vest and spreading his arms,” told Oblitas, “Fire. I am here by the will of the people.” When Oblitas hesitated, he was immediately arrested by the police. A mob quickly formed, seized the soldier, and hanged him from a lamppost in the Plaza Murillo; Monje and his compatriots were reduced to the role of “spectators.” Not content, the mob then stormed a prison and seized Major Jorge Enguino and Captain José Escobar, the officers accused of perpetrating the 1944 Oruro executions. After each being given a bottle of Coca-Cola, they were shot and then also hanged from the lampposts. In the words of Mesa Gisbert, “no authority impeded
