Dangerous Week

For five days last week, Latin America's biggest and most advanced nation hung perilously on the brink of a civil war that no one wanted. In the name of democracy, one Brazilian army was ordered to attack another, which was determined to defend the constitution. A naval task force from the north steamed toward the southern state of Rio Grande do Sul, and air force fighters dived low over bristling antiaircraft guns in the southern state capital of Porto Alegre. At the end of a confused and passionate week, the longing of Brazilians for stability seemed to give promise--though not yet assurance--that the nation might peaceably survive its crisis.

Too Red to Rule. At first the issue was whether the demagogic leftist Vice President Joao ("Jango") Goulart, 43, would be allowed to assume the presidency in place of erratic Janio Quadros, who had quit his job and sailed away in a fit of pique (TIME, Sept. 1). Article L79 of the U.S.-style constitution was precise on the point: Goulart, even though not elected on the same slate as Quadros, had won a plurality of 200,000 votes last October, and therefore should take over as President. But Brazil's powerful military leaders said no. They flatly forbade Goulart to take office, and said he would be arrested when he returned from his tour of the Far East on a friendly, let's-trade visit in Red China. Led by crusty old (69) War Minister Odylio Denys (who once said "Politics is for politicians"), the brass issued a formal manifesto: Goulart (see box) was a demagogue, a fellow traveler and unacceptable. He had shown his clear sympathies in Red China, "exalting the success of peoples' communes. As President, Goulart would become an incentive to all those who want to see the country fall into chaos, anarchy and civil strife."

Before dawn, the tanks clanked into position in Rio. Censors took over the press, cables, radio and TV. Those who protested too loudly were summarily arrested. On the evening of the first day, retired Field Marshal Henrique Teixeira Lott, who ran unsuccessfully for President last year with Goulart as his running mate, telephoned War Minister Denys and demanded that he obey the constitution. Denys refused.

Three hours later, at 4 a.m., eight police cars howled up to Lott's apartment in Brasilia, and a colonel banged on the door, shouting that the marshal was under arrest. "Tell the colonel that he knows only an officer of my own rank can arrest me," said Lott, and went back to sleep. Back came a field marshal (Brazil has 36) to toss Lott into a damp, stone walled dungeon beneath the Fortress of Laje, a turret-topped rock jutting above the waters of Rio Bay. On Denys' orders, more than 100 army officers, loyal to Lott and insisting that the constitution be respected, were rounded up at Tommy-gun point in Rio. To uneasy reporters standing before his white cottage in Brasilia Denys cried: "Do you want your children to be brought up Communists? The time has come to choose." Committees of Resistance. But now ' other voices were beginning to make themselves heard in Brazil -- not in favor of Goulart, who by now was dithering away in Paris wondering what to do, but in favor of constitutional democracy. In Brasilia, the small Liberal Party pro claimed itself ready to "battle to the death for our detested adversary Joao Goulart." Dozens of Senators and Dep uties urged the military men to recon sider. Said Deputy Fernando Ferrari: "I will fight for Jango until the day he is inaugurated. Then I will fight against him." Most influential voice of all was that of ex-President Juscelino Kubi tschek, under whom Goulart had also served as Vice President. "To admit the possibility that constitutional Vice President Goulart will not take office," said Kubitschek, "would belie my entire life and destroy the results of hard, patient and constructive effort undertaken for five years in favor of obedience to law and the constitution." Having said his piece, he added: "Now it's my turn to get arrested. It's hopeless. The people can't do anything against military lorce." Kubitschek was needlessly pessimistic.

Far to the south, in Goulart's home fief of Rio Grande do Sul, Governor Leonel Brizzola was calling the gauchos to arms on Goulart's behalf. Brizzola, who is Brazil's most rabidly anti-Yankee governor and Goulart's brother-in-law, blocked the harbor in Porto Alegre, barricaded the streets, and began recruiting rawhide-tough cowboys into "Committees of Democratic Resistance." He called up the state militia, mobilized police, had trenches dug, surrounded his palace with barbed wire and put machine guns on the roof. But more important than all these precautions, he won the solid support of General M. Jose Machado Lopes, commander of the well-equipped, 35,000-man Third Army garrisoned in the state. Cried Brizzola: "We are not going to fire the first shot, but you may be sure we will fire the second--and many more." Faced with Lopes' disobedience to his command, Denys immediately ordered Brazil's Second Army to "attack and dominate by force" the Third Army. But the Second hesitated to move from Sao Paulo on a mission that would start civil war.

Bad but Legal. Without a unity of arms to enforce their will, Denys and his allies began to lose control. With Ku-bitschek's backing, Congress went into special session to discuss a constitutional amendment to remold the government from a U.S. presidential system into a parliamentary pattern akin to West Germany's, with a president of weak powers (Goulart) and a strong Premier to be appointed by Congress.

As Congress debated, Kubitschek went to work on Denys (who had been War Minister under Kubitschek as well as under Quadros). He also telephoned the waiting Goulart in Paris. "Don't even consider civil war, which can only do vast damage to the nation," he said. "Have patience and wait."

Some Admissions. The supple Goulart passed the time assuring the world that he was not as Red as he was painted. Asked if he were a Communist, Jango Goulart grinned, opened his shirt to show a Roman Catholic medal, said, "Have you ever seen a real Communist wear things like this?" He said that he was willing to forget his old goals of nationalization of private enterprise, and even backed off from Quadros' ardent wooing of Communist-bloc nations. Said Goulart: "On principle, I favor trade relations with the whole world, but I admit there have been some exaggerations recently in Brazil's foreign policies."

After two days, Kubitschek was on the phone again to Paris to report Denys' reluctant agreement to hold fire. Goulart cabled the old marshal: "I am returning to Brazil to fulfill my duty, and I hope your excellency will fulfill yours." He then boarded a jet for the long journey home, cautiously skirting the borders of Brazil by flying first to New York and then down the west coast of South America.

By the time he reached Uruguay, just over the border from his citadel of Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil's Chamber of Deputies had voted 298-14 to approve his inauguration as President as the first step toward the conversion to parliamentary rule. There was an agonizing delay as Denys struggled to convince his more militant partners--the navy and air ministers--to follow his lead and give way to what was obviously the popular will. They wanted to know in advance one key fact: Who's going to be the Premier? The man most agreeable to Kubitschek and to Brazil's key governors was Bahia's plump and placid but steely-nerved Governor Juracy Magalhaes, a reserve general, and head of Brazil's major conservative party. Said Juracy: "If you want me to serve, and there is no one else, I will."

Goulart decided it was safe to go home. But he took precautions. He passed word that he was traveling from Montevideo to Porto Alegre by car (Brazilian air force jets started buzzing the highways), then raced through the darkness to board a Varig Airlines Caravelle at Montevideo Airport. The jet slid across the border with lights doused as Jango washed down cold cuts with red wine by candlelight. Still in darkness, the plane set down in Brother-in-Law Brizzola's Porto Alegre stronghold. Brizzola introduced him as "chief of the armed forces and leader of all Brazilians," then was drowned out by ten minutes of nonstop cheering and shouts of "Jango! Jango!" from 35,000 frenzied spectators. Home was the President--though still in name only.

All the elaborate mechanism to install Goulart, while limiting his capacity to do mischief, was still to be put to the test. The stability of Brazil now depended on final approval of the parliamentary constitutional amendment, on the military chiefs, who still argued bitterly against his inauguration, and on the ambitious Goulart himself, who waited cautiously behind the barricades in Porto Alegre, testing the hot winds and biding his time.

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