Machine Gun in the Lettuce

The first political kidnaping of 1971 was pulled off one morning last week with a panache born of practice. As a street vendor in the Old City of Montevideo reached into the pile of lettuce on his pushcart and pulled out a machine gun, four cars blocked the route of a black Daimler sedan. Out jumped a dozen men, who seized and clubbed two bodyguards and a chauffeur, and drove off triumphantly in the Daimler with their latest captive--and their biggest prey to date: British Ambassador to Uruguay Geoffrey Jackson, 55.

The daring act was the work of Uruguay's Tupamaros, the most vicious and successful of Latin America's urban terrorists. They take their name from an Inca chieftain who was executed in Peru 200 years ago for leading a revolt against the Spaniards. For more than five months, the Tupamaros have been holding two other diplomatic hostages: U.S. Agronomist Claude Fly and Brazilian Consul Aloysio Mares Dias Gomide. Last year they murdered Daniel Mitrione, a U.S. AID official, after Uruguayan President Jorge Pacheco Areco refused to ransom him for 160 prisoners, including many Tupamaros.

The latest incident occurred during a period of relative calm. The Tupamaros had threatened a "hot summer" for prosperous vacationers at Uruguay's Punta del Este, and even sent letters to hundreds of Argentine tourists who own or rent houses in the beach resort, warning them to stay away this year. But the wave of terrorism failed to materialize, the government cut rates on everything from ferry fares across the River Plate to hotel prices, and the flow of tourists began to swell after a slow start. Even so, authorities estimate that only 200,000 tourists will visit this summer instead of the normal 300,000.

At week's end, the Tupamaros, who have demanded $1,000,000 from Senhora Gomide for her husband's release, had not announced their ransom terms for Jackson. Whatever they ask might prove academic in any case. The British have considerable influence in Montevideo because they have long been the largest customer for Uruguayan meat, even though British imports dropped recently following an outbreak of foot-and-mouth disease. But President Pacheco declared last August that he would not negotiate with terrorists under any circumstances, and he is expected to stick to his position.

In Brazil, meanwhile, another diplomatic kidnaping case appeared to be on the verge of settlement. After a month of negotiating with Brazilian guerrillas, the government appears to be ready to pay the requested ransom for the release of Swiss Ambassador Giovanni Enrico Bucher. The price: 70 prisoners, safely delivered to either Chile, Cuba or Algeria.

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