ROCKEFELLER'S TOUR: PAINFUL REAPPRAISAL OF THE NEIGHBORS

BY now the scenes, the breakneck pace, the agenda were all familiar as the chartered jet of President Nixon's emissary touched down at Buenos Aires' Ezeiza airport. So, too, was the penumbra of latent violence. Soldiers and policemen lined the streets, ready for any further outbursts of hostility against Nelson Rockefeller. By way of a welcoming salute to the New York Governor, terrorists the week before had fire-bombed 13 Buenos Aires supermarkets belonging to a firm controlled by the Rockefeller family.

Rocky and his task force of 21 experts landed running. He hosted a breakfast for Argentine businessmen, met with local farm officials, and consulted with Foreign Minister Juan Martin and Economics Minister Jose Maria Dagnino Pastore. At noon, Rocky was off to see President Juan Carlos Ongania for two hours of frank talk in Spanish, which Rockefeller speaks well. While the members of his task force, armed with tape recorders, fanned out to talk with local counterparts in fields as diverse as exports and hospitals, the Governor huddled in secret with antigovernment students. It was a caustic session. The students told Rocky that they had no use for their government or for the U.S. More meetings and a reception; then, less than 36 hours after he had arrived, Rocky was off at 5 a.m., headed for Haiti--and more of the same. What did the Governor think of Argentina, a newsman asked just before the plane left. "I'll tell President Nixon," grinned Rocky, "and not you."

Fuera Yanqui. Rockefeller's visit to Argentina last week launched his fourth fact-finding trip to Latin America in the past two months. By this week, when his odyssey comes to an end in Barbados, he will have swept through 20 countries, gathering raw material for the Administration's effort to reappraise U.S. policy in Latin America. In the making of foreign policy, the New York Governor's forays were without precedent, and duly deplored by some in Washington as exercises in frustration. In virtually every capital that Rockefeller visited, his arrival catalyzed longstanding Latin American resentments, frustrations and anxieties. There were anti-U.S. demonstrations, angry shouts of "Fuera Yanqui" (Yankee, Get Out), riots and at least seven deaths, including four in the Dominican Republic last week. Three nations asked the Governor to cancel scheduled stops, for fear his presence would cause violence.

Rockefeller and the White House are convinced that his mission is worth the cost, if only because it dramatically exposes the deep strains in U.S.-Latin American relations. There can be little doubt that a new U.S. policy is needed. Latin America is a continent in ferment, dissatisfied as never before with the U.S. and itself. Indeed, there are pessimists like Sol Linowitz, former U.S. ambassador to the Organization of American States, who believe that if the U.S. continues to ignore Latin America, it may some day face "a series of Viet Nams" south of the border.

Those Viet Nams need not necessarily be Communist-caused. Through much of the continent, there is at work a tough new nationalism that owes nothing to imported ideologies. Peru's military rulers are embarked on a collision course with the U.S. over their expropriation, so far without compensation, of a large American-owned oil company. In an effort to protect marine resources for their own use, both Peru and Ecuador frequently seize and fine U.S. tuna boats for violating the 200-mile limits proclaimed by both nations. Chile has maneuvered the U.S.-owned Anaconda Co. into "negotiated nationalization," under which the government will buy 51% of Anaconda's vast and profitable mining interests.

One Referent. The U.S. has long been the scapegoat for the continent's woes. Vitriolic accusations that the U.S. is using Latin America as merely a political backyard and an economic bargain basement are staple complaints. Because the U.S. is omnipresent in Latin America, it proves a convenient and often legitimate target for such criticism. U.S. investments come to be seen as covert efforts to despoil the continent of its riches, U.S. embassies and aid missions are viewed as sinister proconsulates. "Independence in Latin America has only one referent today," says the Brookings Institution's John Plank, "and that is independence from the U.S."

Yet Latin Americans have a curious ambivalence about the giant to the north. The U.S. may be disliked, but it is an intrinsic part of their lives. In the big cities, multicolored neon blinks the lures of U.S. products. Bookstores are clogged with American titles. American movies draw millions of viewers every year, and the continent's young--like the young everywhere--have grown fond of granny glasses, long hair, bell-bottoms and hard rock. Latin Americans admire U.S. achievements--one of the most popular films currently playing on the continent is the U.S. Information Agency's Apollo 8--but they want American know-how on their own terms.

Subtler Weapons. Although Nixon has declared Latin America's problems to be "of the highest priority," the continent is aware that it ranks low on the U.S. agenda. There is a pervasive feeling of helplessness based on the realization that the U.S. controls too much of Latin America's destiny. The era of landing U.S. Marines may be over, but Latin Americans know that Washington now commands subtler weapons--an arsenal of punitive laws and regulations that can turn off the flow of aid, arms and trade virtually at will. Among them is the Hickenlooper Amendment, which provides for an aid cut in cases of nationalization without speedy compensation; it hangs over Peru now.

Resentment runs deep against both U.S. private investment and Washington's aid program. Although the era of corporate colonialism has passed and most U.S. firms faithfully obey local regulations, U.S. business still has immense muscle on the continent, a fact that contravenes Latin America's understandable desire to control its own resources. U.S. business employs over 2,000,000 Latin Americans, pays more than one-fifth of the continent's taxes, produces 12% of its total output and one-third of all its exports. Nationalistic objections aside, U.S. business contributes importantly to local economies, providing employment and revenue, and has historically played a major role in the continent's growth and development.

That tends to be taken for granted now by Latin Americans, who charge that the U.S. takes more out of the continent than it puts in. In June, 21 Latin American nations presented Nixon with a 6,000-word memorandum--the "Consensus of Vina del Mar"--setting forth their thoughts on new bases for co operation. In an accompanying speech, Chilean Foreign Minister Gabriel Valdes said: "Private investments have meant and mean today for Latin America that the amounts that leave our continent are many times as high as those invested in it. In a word, we hold the conviction that Latin America gives more than it receives."

Rules of the Game. The charge is correct. U.S. firms in 1967 repatriated all but 2% to 3% of their profits in Latin America. Aid--which has amounted to $11 billion since the launching of the Alliance for Progress eight years ago--is not entirely the altruistic expression of good neighborliness that most Americans assume it to be. The U.S. may indeed commit a billion dollars a year --including grants, low-interest loans, and private investment. But the Organization of American States claims that this amount drifts back north in purchases, and yields additional Latin American payments of $274 million in amortization, interest and service charges. The bulk of U.S. Government assistance is "tied." The receiving country must use the money in the U.S., one of the world's most expensive markets, and must ship at least half of its purchases in U.S. bottoms, a practice that Brazilian Economist Roberto de Oliveira Campos correctly describes as "a partial subsidy" to U.S. shipping.

To make matters worse, the continent's terms of trade have deteriorated in recent years. Prices for Latin American exports, mostly raw materials, have fallen in world markets, while prices of imports have risen. A decline of a single U.S. cent per pound of coffee--a price essentially set in the U.S., the world's largest consumer of coffee --costs Colombia $8.7 million, Central America $8 million, and Brazil $24 million a year. Says Colombia's able, progressive President Carlos Lleras Restrepo, an economist by profession: "The fault is to be found with the international rules of the game that take from the poor and give to the rich."

Glacial Progress. Much of Latin America's anger today reflects frustration over its own failures. Thoughtful Latin Americans admit that the U.S. is used as a scapegoat, and that their countries have not exactly plunged into necessary economic and social reform.

The average economic growth rate for all of Latin America, optimistically pegged at an annual 2.5% by the Alliance for Progress eight years ago, has barely come to 1.5% over the Alliance years. Annual per-capita income stands at only $350, ranging from a high of $950 in Venezuela to a grinding $65 in Haiti. Agrarian reform, in the words of a U.S. congressional report, has made "glacial progress." Although 15 countries have made a beginning, only Peru's military leaders have dared proclaim a radical redistribution program.

Housing shortages are appalling: a U.N. statistician has figured that if Latin America began building houses at a daily rate of 10,000, one-third of its 220 million people would still be without proper shelter a decade from now. Urban areas are rapidly expanding, and with them the poverty-stricken shanty towns of the continent--the villas miserias of Argentina, the favelas of Brazil, the barriadas of Peru. Less than half the continent's children go to school. Despite some tax reform, no income tax is paid by millions, including those who ought most to pay. Most important, there has been no concentrated attempt to check the burgeoning birth rate, at 3.2% the highest of any continent.

Change v. Stability. To remedy the ills that plague it, Latin America needs money, reform and the kind of governmental stability that allows time for reform to bear fruit. Most of Latin America, for the present anyway, dismisses Communism as no serious threat. But social change can touch off revolutionary pressures and arouse the fury of entrenched interests. There have been 16 coups since 1961. Democratic Chile, under moderate Eduardo Frei Montalva, is beset by inflation and political uncertainty. Frei's Christian Democratic Party is split; one faction advocates a link-up with the Communists in presidential elections next year. Colombia, thanks to reforms initiated by Lleras Restrepo, has made an economic comeback. But it faces problems as it approaches the end of an agreement under which its political parties laid aside differences and took turns holding the presidency. Venezuela, buoyed by its oil riches, is in fine economic shape, but newly elected President Rafael Caldera has to steer carefully, since his party controls neither house of congress. Peru's Fernando Belaunde Terry pushed reform, weakening the economy and currency; the military ousted him last winter. In Brazil, generals took over in 1964 from left-leaning, incompetent Joao Goulart. They moved into outright dictatorship last year and seem to be more concerned with neutralizing their civilian opposition than with building a sound political structure.

Middle Class. Yet the elements of power are slowly changing. In the past three centuries, the only forces that mattered in any Latin country were the landed oligarchy, the Roman Catholic Church and the military. That triad still predominates, and only 10% of the people own 90% of the land. But there are cracks in the alliance. Recent years have seen the emergence of a new kind of military man--up from the lower or middle class, equipped with some technical skills, interested in efficiency and growth. Often he thinks he can run his country better than the sons of the oligarchs, and sometimes he can. In any case, his loyalty is likely to be directly to his country rather than his class; he is less likely to intervene in politics merely to do the oligarchy's bidding and then quietly retire. The Church in Latin America is changing. While Rome still prohibits birth control, thereby encouraging the fecundity that is one of the continent's biggest obstacles to economic progress, many young priests quietly counsel contraception. In Chile, priests have increasingly drifted into poor neighborhoods to live and work. In Ecuador, they lead a movement to bring church property under land reform. In Bolivia, they have suggested that workers be granted a voice in their firms and a share in the profits. In Colombia, a priest was killed leading an anti-government guerrilla band. The growing middle class, too, has found its voice, and a strident one: middle-class students are the most vociferous advocates of change, rejecting foreign influence and paternalism and championing "people's rights."

What can be done to solve the crushing farrago of problems? Nationalist governments could expropriate every American business on the continent, and the region's economic destiny would still be inseparably intertwined with and dependent on the U.S. Washington could funnel huge amounts of money southward, and little would be accomplished for the people of Latin America if the funds were siphoned off, as so often in the past, by the ruling classes. Neither extreme scenario, of course, is likely to be chosen--especially not the latter. The Nixon Administration's options are too limited by other crises abroad and at home. At $605 million, Nixon's aid request for Latin America is the lowest submitted by a U.S. President in a decade, and Congress in its present mood is sure to cut it.

There are, however, many changes that the U.S. can make in the way it deals with Latin America--changes that would produce both real and psychological benefits. The vast U.S. market should be opened more fully to Latin American goods. Nixon should seek to reduce congressional weight on the conduct of foreign relations, because the punitive legislation that Congress has enacted drastically reduces the President's room for maneuvering. Washington might consider channeling assistance through multinational agencies to avoid charges of political string-pulling. That would help mute the charge that the U.S. cares only about preserving the status quo and all too readily supports military regimes.

Division of Labor. Already, as a result of Rockefeller's trips, a number of improvements have been made. Two weeks ago the concept of "additionality," part of tied-aid regulations, was abandoned. Last week the U.S. lifted its ban on credit arms sales to Peru and Ecuador, imposed because of their seizures of U.S. fishing boats, and thus opened the way for a conference to discuss the offshore-waters dispute. From Latin America came a constructive suggestion of what Latins themselves might do to help. Colombia's Lleras Restrepo, back from a visit to the U.S., called for a conference of North American and Latin American labor unions to discuss "a better international division of labor."

In his jet last week leaving the Dominican Republic, Rockefeller leaned back in his seat and ruminated about his mission. "The disillusionment is very real," he said of the nations he had covered. "Blame must be equally accepted throughout the Western Hemisphere. We can't cover it up. You have no idea how much we are telling these people what to do and how to do it. But there are also forces at work that do not want to see us closer together. It is very important that there be understanding that these forces do exist and that all is not well in the hemisphere."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.