stayed with her beloved dictator to the bitter, bitter, incredibly bitter end.
THE GENERAL SITUATION
Paraguay is a landlocked, isolated, and widely acknowledged unimportant country — half jungle, half desert, and poor all over. It has always been this way. Its isolation has made it a magnet for foreigners looking to disappear from the beaten track. And its isolation forms perhaps the perfect breeding ground for maniacal and homespun dictators, able to prey on an ignorant and secluded people who are largely unaware that life is not always miserable and filled with swarms of ambitious parasites. They consider their country an island in a sea of land.
Originally discovered by Portuguese explorers searching for gold, Paraguay was settled in 1537 by a group of Spanish conquistadores under the leadership of Domingo Martínez de Irala, who stopped beside a hill on the Plate River and fought a short battle with a distressed local band of Guarani Indians. With their leader killed, the natives offered the Spanish a small harem of young women as a sign of peace. The Spanish, horny and quite far from home, readily agreed and snuggled down for two decades of baby making with the locals. Irala is now one of the most common surnames in Paraguay.
The country settled into nearly three centuries of consistently minor-league status within the Spanish Empire. It achieved independence in 1811 during South America’s revolts against Spain. Happy times were short- lived, however; in 1814 the country came under the thumb of the ruthless dictator José Gaspar Rodriguez de Francia, known as “The Supreme One.” For the next twenty-six years he closed the borders and had his way with his lonely country; killing perceived opponents, seizing church property, dominating all commerce, and treating the people like badly behaved children. The result was a country filled with politically enfeebled citizens with little knowledge of the outside world. After the death of their dear leader in 1840, the people of the pathological country referred to him as “The Defunct One.”
He was succeeded by the corpulent Carlos Antonio López in 1840, who added to the miseries of Paraguay by treating the entire country as if it were his own property and bringing into the world his eldest son, Francisco Solano López. Despite the heavy hand of Antonio, life for the docile population was generally good. Antonio opened schools, built railroads, made sure everyone had enough to eat, and the country lived in peace.
To further educate his eldest son, and to recruit foreign talent to work in Paraguay, Antonio López sent Francisco on a whirlwind Grand Tour of Europe in 1853. A secondary goal was to remove his son from Asunción so he would stop raping the virginal daughters of the aristocracy. The trip proved a turning point in South American history as the twenty-six-year-old spent like Michael Jackson on a shopping spree at Disneyland. The prizes the obese, epauletted dictator-in-training dragged home included military costumes, seventy pairs of patent leather boots, and an Irish-born prostitute named Eliza.
While in Paris Solano López met and was instantly smitten by the astounding beauty of Eliza Alicia Lynch, then eighteen and on the prowl for a rich sugar daddy to take her away from her stressful life as a Parisian courtesan. She was a refugee from the Irish famine whose family had married her off as a teenager to a French army officer in 1850. After a few years at African army posts, her marriage dissolved, and Lynch made her way to Paris and became one of the city’s leading female companions to the rich. When she heard of the glorious spending by the Paraguayan prince, she arranged to meet him. After a few meetings between the sheets they discussed their future, and he wowed her with stories of rampant illiteracy and hungry ringworms in his home country. She was soon pregnant, and Solano López invited her to live with him in Paraguay. They arrived in Asunción in early 1855; the city turned out to welcome their prince home but were left stunned by the sight of the red-haired, blue-eyed, very pregnant Lynch hauling crates of finery bought on shopping sprees in Europe with her besotted man.
Lynch’s impact on the López family was so strong that Solano’s father barely spoke to Lynch for the remaining seven years of his life. Loathed instantly by the Paraguayan people, and the wealthy women of Asunción in particular, she was always known as Madame Lynch. López proved his love to his woman by impregnating her seven times, enjoying numerous mistresses, and ensuring the bastardization of her children by never marrying her.
Father Antonio died in 1862; Solano López seized power and started a killing rampage of his many enemies. He also declared that Madame Lynch must be treated as the first lady of Paraguay, requiring the leading ladies of Asunción society — and yes, they did exist — to pay her homage. Whatever she wanted, she got. Even this, however, was grossly insufficient for Madame Lynch. She did not leave Paris to simply rule over Paraguay. She longed for an empire and insisted on reminding López that he was emperor material and destined to conquer.
The first signs of trouble in Eden began in 1863 when López pestered the emperor of Brazil, Dom Pedro II, to marry his daughter. Dom Pedro laughingly refused his request, calling López “licentious, dissolute, and cruel.” Angered by this bold statement of the truth, López set out to prove the emperor correct. He swore that he would extract his revenge on the now-hated Brazilians.
At the same time, López imported European engineers to bring the country within hailing distance of the modern age. These men became his favorites and were therefore among the last López executed. The tireless professionals constructed railroads, factories, shipyards, and when the time came, heavily armed fortifications. López had mansions built to house his mistress in splendor. The final flourish to bring Asunción up to European code occurred when Madame Lynch suggested — meaning demanded — López build a glistening replica of the famous La Scala opera house in Milan, even though the Paraguayans had never seen an opera. Roofless for nearly one hundred years, it did not host its first opera until 1955.
It was these European engineers, the first foreigners to enter the country in decades, who described the people of Paraguay as especially happy. They also noted that, perhaps from the years of living under dictators or because in their isolation they didn’t know any better, they were incredibly stoic and brave, and held absolute devotion to their leaders.
Add to this mix a dictator’s desire to impress his fancy European lady and a dawning realization that maybe, just maybe, he needs to prove himself in war to become the next Napoleon, and you have a recipe for disaster.
Paraguay, of course, did not exist in a vacuum. Since the end of the Spanish Empire in South America, there had been considerable fighting and confusion among the countries in the region. Much of it centered on Uruguay. Originally part of the Spanish viceroyalty of La Plata along with Paraguay and Argentina, it broke away in 1828 and became independent. After years of civil war Uruguay came under strong Brazilian influence. Both Brazil and Argentina wanted an independent Uruguay as a buffer between them, while Paraguay was concerned that this area remain on friendly terms since Uruguay represented its sole access to the sea.
It was amid this constant flow of conflict that López scored his first, and only, political success. After years of civil war in Argentina, in 1859 López volunteered to mediate between the two warring factions. Incredibly, not only was his offer accepted but the fighting actually stopped.
Returning to Paraguay, López was hailed as a diplomatic savant. The reality was that in a country without any hint of a foreign policy, the only thing separating the ordinary person from a diplomatic god was this one success. Madame Lynch, of course, saw that the road to empire — and to empress — had started. She pushed
