Paraguay The Extinction of a Dinosaur

By Jill Smolowe

Residents of sleepy Asuncion were startled when the crack of gunfire shattered a muggy summer night. Two dozen armored tanks rumbled down a residential street from the First Army Corps headquarters. For eight hours, the sounds of battle transformed several normally tranquil neighborhoods into war zones. As mutinous soldiers traded rounds with loyal government troops, bullets ricocheted wildly, felling more than 100 soldiers, pockmarking buildings and flattening tires of parked cars.

Shortly before dawn, the rebellion achieved its goal: the ouster of General Alfredo Stroessner, 76. As Stroessner was held unharmed under house arrest at an army residence, his longtime second-in-command and chief of the First Corps, General Andres Rodriguez, made a radio address. "I communicate to you that General Stroessner has surrendered and finds himself in perfect health, deprived of liberty." Rodriguez soon took the oath as provisional President.

The revolt abruptly ended the 34-year rule of Stroessner, an autocrat who had shown every promise of realizing the dream of all dictators: to die in bed, holding power to the end. There had been only the slightest intimations that Stroessner's days were numbered. Despite close personal ties between the two generals (Rodriguez's daughter is married to Stroessner's son), Rodriguez had quietly sided with a faction within the ruling Colorado Party that favors limited democratic reforms. As a result, Stroessner reportedly was on the verge of moving Rodriguez to a purely ceremonial position. Rodriguez, who has headed the largest of Paraguay's three army corps since 1961, did not give him the opportunity. Stroessner's health and a brewing struggle over his successor may also have triggered the coup: the seemingly indestructible dictator underwent prostate surgery five months ago and has since shown signs of deterioration.

Washington officials responded to the news of Stroessner's political demise with little optimism. Despite some appealing rhetoric, few believe Rodriguez will institute democratic reform. "Most likely, it's going to be more of the same," said a senior military analyst. The anti-Communist Stroessner has long been one of Washington's staunchest backers. But his dismal record on human rights compelled successive U.S. Administrations to denounce Stroessner as a dictator.

A dinosaur among despots, Stroessner ruled with absolute authority longer than any other leader in the Western hemisphere and was second only to North Korea's Kim Il Sung as the world's most durable dictator. After sweeping to power in a military coup in 1954, Stroessner nominated himself President, then engineered his pro forma re-election seven times. Despite sporadic challenges to his rule, the patriarch faced no serious opposition. Unlike many countries in the Americas, landlocked Paraguay has no tradition of democracy.

Over the past decade, as military dictatorships toppled throughout Latin America, Stroessner kept the army's loyalty by cutting it in on contraband, kickbacks and theft. A state of siege, regularly renewed and lifted only two years ago, empowered police to arrest thousands of opponents. Early in Stroessner's regime, critics were routinely branded as Communist subversives, often tortured and killed; in later years, foes were jailed or exiled.

Still, most Paraguayans did not clamor for Stroessner's fall. In the 50 years preceding his ascent to power, the country endured civil wars, coups and more than 30 shaky presidencies. If curtailment of fundamental freedoms was the price for political and economic stability, most citizens were willing to buy into the Faustian bargain. During most of Stroessner's rule, Paraguay maintained a rate of economic growth unusual for Latin America.

* Paraguay's future course is far from certain. In the hours after the coup, citizens ventured into the streets, scarcely able to believe Stroessner's demise and encouraged by Rodriguez's rhetoric pledging "the initiation of democratization." But while Rodriguez is popular with his troops, his lengthy association with Stroessner casts doubt on his claims. His style of high living is attributed to heavy involvement in Paraguay's large-scale smuggling and drug trade. As a U.S. intelligence analyst put it, "He's been a 30-year intimate of the old man. He's not going to reinvent the wheel."

Stroessner, who provided asylum for some of the most reviled figures in modern times, such as Nazi death-camp doctor Josef Mengele and Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza Debayle, is expected to live out his exile, possibly in Chile. There he would be the guest of Augusto Pinochet, now the very last of Latin America's old-style dictators, who himself faces political extinction following presidential elections scheduled for December.

With reporting by Laura Lopez and Elizabeth Love/Asuncion