revolutions against the repressive regimes of Central America are already irreversible. If America tries to prop them up, it will fail. If America were to move to encourage less fascist regimes in the junta-run countries, then it might be worthwhile exploring new relationships with it. But let us stir no more pots until the Christian Democrats have lost the Venezuelan elections in early December.’
They duly did so. The Social Democrats (Accion Democratica) won the Venezuelan election with a substantial majority. The US Administration, horrified at first, later found good reason to be pleased.
The new Venezuelan President-elect, who was to assume office next April according to Venezuelan constitutional procedures, held several early meetings with US and Mexican leaders. He made it clear that Venezuela would no longer follow the US line of interpreting conflicts in Central America in purely East-West terms. He wanted to try to bring moderate elements into the governments of El Salvador and Guatemala. Venezuela, explained the President-elect to US representatives, accepted the US policy of a ‘big stick and soft words’ towards Cuba. As regards the stick Venezuela would never condone military intervention from foreign powers in Central America or the Caribbean. As regards the soft words, Venezuela like Mexico regarded Cuba as a Latin American country which, it was thought, could be gradually weaned away from the Soviet embrace by a policy of cautious rapprochement. This had been Mexico’s policy for twenty years; it was Venezuela’s policy from 1973 until 1978, and now from 1984 onwards it would again be the official attitude of the Venezuelan Government.
The new alliance between Venezuela and Mexico proved patient, systematic and rather efficient. The isolation of the military regimes in El Salvador and Guatemala, supported now only by a tiny minority, made it surprisingly easy for Venezuela and Mexico to create a democratic alliance against them.
Mexico and Venezuela persuaded leading Salvadoran Social Democrats to separate themselves from the most radical elements in the Marxist revolutionary ‘Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front’ and to accept a ‘common front’ for a provisional government with other democratic organizations such as El Salvador’s Christian Democrats. The US was asked to propose the establishment of an international conference with the participation of all democratic Salvadoran political organizations, supervised by Mexico and Venezuela. The main role of the US would be to persuade the extreme right-wing members in El Salvador’s military government to accept a transition towards democracy. To these Salvadoran members of the junta, the only offers would be that there would be no prosecution for ‘crimes of war’ and that there would be an honourable end to their careers, still as quite rich men.
The initial response to these proposals by the right-wing military and the Marxist guerrillas in El Salvador was the same: total rejection. The Marxists condemned ‘those who are trying to steal the triumph of the Salvadoran people’.
This inclined the US Administration to accept the Mexican-Venezuelan plan. Washington made three conditions: (a) no Cuban participation at any stage of the proceedings; (b) the exclusion of Marxists and pro-Cubans from key positions in the new Salvadoran Government; (c) general elections to be held six months after the installation of the Provisional Government.
In the US there were some who regarded the change of policy as a sell-out of loyal allies, as with Thieu in Vietnam. For others, it was a wise decision, leading to an enlightened solution such as that in Rhodesia-Zimbabwe. Optimism spread because the Nicaraguan Government, under the pressure of a great economic crisis and disheartened by the lack of new Cuban support, was swinging back to the centre. The new Venezuelan President made an early state visit to Nicaragua in the month of May, only three weeks after his inauguration. He was welcomed by an enthusiastic populace, who had not forgotten the Venezuelan contribution to the overthrow of Somoza in 1979 and the hopes then surging for a better and more democratic future. The message was not lost on the left-wing Sandinista leaders who had been losing support among the masses. They wanted to avoid regional isolation.
Cuba’s premier made a last-ditch effort to avert the tide of Mexican-Venezuelan-sponsored political reforms. He travelled to Nicaragua at the same time as delegates started gathering in Mexico City to draw up a plan for democracy in El Salvador. But his effort to create a ‘rejection front’ proved unsuccessful, even in Nicaragua. The US discreetly let it be known to the more moderate of the Sandinistas that it would consider re-establishing diplomatic relations and the flow of aid if the Sandinistas freed political prisoners, sanctioned civil liberties and let opposition newspapers be printed again.
By the beginning of 1985, therefore, Cuba had to reconsider its position, and started to do so fairly fast.
When the Third World War started in the summer of 1985, El Salvador had just become insecurely democratic. Guatemala and Honduras were still (but now less securely) military dictatorships. The President of Mexico had, sadly, been assassinated in January but everybody assumed that Mexico and Venezuela would soon arrange a ‘political solution’ in these two countries too. In Nicaragua the moderates now had a more powerful voice in the civilian leadership (which was drawing aid from the US and Venezuela, and had also applied to the International Monetary Fund), but the military and security forces in Nicaragua were still very left wing, because they had been systematically penetrated by Cuba. The IMF’s investigators considered Nicaragua still too much run by soldiers who thought they were socialists, which in their view was economically not a good combination.
Cuba was rethinking its posture rather desperately when the Soviet tanks rolled into Western Europe. The orders from Moscow were explicit: ‘Proceed against the United States into full-scale war.’ The Cubans sensibly half-ratted, and the Americans foolishly overreacted to what little the Cubans did.
After a desperate high-level meeting in Havana through most of 4 August 1985, the Cubans sent a long coded telex back to Moscow. The first thirty pages consisted of obsequious expressions of support for the fundamental revolutionary justice of the Soviet cause. The decoder in Moscow working on the complicated Atropos decoding system could not conceal his impatience. Eventually he got to the sentences the Kremlin was waiting for, and they did not say what the Kremlin wanted. The vital parts of the Cuban message to Moscow on 5 August ran: ‘The risks before socialist Cuba are enormous, considering the possibility of US nuclear retaliation. Our options are in fact very few. Cuba does not have the military capacity to mount an invasion of a major Latin American country. To attack the US by air is too risky. Sea actions are out of the question; the Cuban navy has a capacity only for a limited degree of coastal vigilance and self-defence. American naval predominance in this region is total. Attacks against specific objectives in the Caribbean (for instance, Puerto Rico) have been most seriously considered. It is the unanimous view here that they would be ineffective, indeed actually harmful for the Soviet cause at this stage of the conflict.
‘We have nevertheless determined on the most courageous action in support of our socialist cause. This action will take three forms. First, we will accelerate our aircraft lifts of ammunition, supplies and some soldiers to selected spots on the mainland of Central America already under socialist or guerrilla control. Secondly, we will alert air squadrons and missiles on our airfields, and be ready to attack American shipping and US convoys bound for Europe. We are sure that you recognize, however, that this assault must be launched at the appropriate moment, when we can strike most violently and effectively. If we strike prematurely, before the really vital targets are at sea, we may be destroyed by American nuclear missiles; and our great usefulness to the common cause — as the independent socialist country nearest to the heartland of capitalism — could be wiped out in five minutes. Thirdly, as our most immediate contribution, all Cuba has been mobilized for war. Our armed forces are concentrating against the Americans’ Guantanamo naval base. An assault will be launched upon this at the moment when our attack on American shipping begins.’
This Atropos coded message was read, after decoding, by two very different generals, one in Moscow and one in Miami.
Army General I. P. Seriy of the Second Main Directorate (military intelligence) of the Army General Staff (the GRU) accurately minuted for the Soviet High Command: ‘Cuba is clearly deserting us as disgracefully as Mussolini deserted Hitler in 1939. The Cubans will join the war only when they think we have won it. After Soviet victory we should treat their renegade leader far less kindly than the sentimental Hitler would have treated Mussolini if he had won in 1945.’
The United States had broken the Atropos code even before Japan’s all-conquering Fujitsu computer company signed a joint-venture agreement with America’s biggest computer company in 1984. Before General Seriy had received his decoded message, Lieutenant General Henry J. Irving, Chief of Staff of the Rapid Deployment Force (known to his friends as ‘Humdinger Hank’), had got his. Minuted General Irving: ‘It is clear from decoded messages that Cuban communist forces, while pretending to lie low, will attack US convoys with missiles and aircraft as soon as they put to sea, and that attacks (possibly with biological weapons, probably with nuclear and chemical) will start against Guantanamo at that delayed moment. It is essential that America’s non-nuclear war plan be launched
