(Between 1980 and 1982
I spent a lot of time in Central American countries such as El Salvador, Guatemala
and Nicaragua--all of which were involved in some nasty guerilla uprisings and
revolutions. From time to time I will post one of the stories I did from these
places. The following story was one I wrote from San Salvador in October 1981.)
SAN SALVADOR, El Salvador--In 1937, a year after Juan Chong
arrived in San Salvador from Hong Kong and opened the Canton China Bar and Restaurant, an American journalist dropped in
for a drink.
"I think he was from New York," said Chong,
shifting his 80-year-old frame in the ancient wicker chair behind the bar.
"New York World. Yes, yes, that was it.'
Chong, his ancient brown eyes peering out from behind wire-rimmed
bifocals perched on his nose, examined the reporter sitting across the bar from
him.
"You American?" he asked. The reporter nodded.
"You know something? You're the first American journalist to come in
here since 1937. You work for New York World, too?"
"The Chicago Tribune," the reporter answered.
"The New York World died a long time ago."
"You come to write about the war, right?" Chong
asked. The reporter nodded again.
El Salvador |
''There had been some trouble just before that other
reporter showed up," Chong said, recharging his memory cells with a shot
of vodka. "Some peasants up north had shot a couple of soldiers. There was
talk of another rebellion like the Matanza." (The Matanza, or "slaughter,"
had occurred In 1931 and 1932, when some 32,000 men, women, and children were killed
by government forces after an ill-fated uprising by the Trotskyite Indian named
Farabundi Marti).
"We were all very excited about It, Chong said,
igniting an ancient pipe."But this American journalist, he was not. He said
Americans didn't care about little revolutions in little countries."
Then, eyeing the reporter before him, Chong said, "I
guess Americans think differently now, eh?"
Indeed they do. The little unimportant banana republic
visited so long ago by the New York reporter is suddenly front and center in the
eyes of American foreign policymakers.
Today, the whole world Is watching to see how the United States
handles Itself in a 11-year-old revolution
pitting left wing guerrillas against the four-man, civilian-military junta of President Jose Napoleon Duarte that is backed by
Washington.
And unlike 1937, when just one American reporter wandered
into town to take a quick look around, San Salvador is a city overrun with journalists
from all over the world.
Most stay at the 235-room Camino Real Hotel, which has evolved
into a kind of unofficial media headquarters for anybody covering the hostilities
here.
Besides a well-stocked bar, where foreign correspondents tend to gather
evenings in clusters to discuss (well, argue) solutions to El Salvador's problems,
the Camino Real offers a government-run telex room for filing stories and messages.
It is not just camaraderie and the dubious benefits of flock
journalism that lure journalists to the Camino Real - It Is safety.
"This is the hotel for the International press," explained
William, the head bellhop. "Neither the left nor the right would be so stupid
as to attack this hotel. This is neutral territory."
Government Troops On Patrol |
·
Yet most journalists feel a little naked In El Salvador. Since
the fighting began in 1980, five foreign correspondents and photographers have
died - not to mention the two dozen or more El Salvadoran journalists who have been
tortured or murdered. Conversations in the Camino Real bar tend to be sprinkled
with bravado and twists of gallows humor as reporters attempt to put such things
out of their minds the way they have always done in war.
Like in Viet Nam, for example, and Cambodia. Except that In
the Camino Real bar, Viet Nam and Cambodia are taboo subjects. Most of those covering
the war In El Salvador, it seems, did not work In Southeast Asia, and there is a
perverse, albeit unnecessary, need on their part to convince Viet Nam era reporters
that this war is more dangerous than their war.
There is indeed something much more ominous about this conflict,
with its incessant decapitations, mass murders, and disappearances.
But it is impossible to apply a Bo Derek kind of scale to war.
People get blown up. They lose arms and legs and feet and hands. They die. Who is
to say El Salvador rates a 10 on the danger scale while Nicaragua and Angola
and Cambodia are only 8s? Such comparisons are not only absurd, they are obscene.
Suffice it to say that thus far El Salvador, with Its 20,000 dead, is still far
from the 1.3 million soldiers and civilians killed In Viet Nam (including 105 journalists).
Another Victim in El Salvador |
But there does seem to be something about El Salvador's tragic
conflict that makes you look over your shoulder a lot.
.
Perhaps it's that there are so many fanatic fringe elements in
this New Jersey-sized nation of five million running around flaunting machine guns,
machetes, and machismo.
Right-wing death squads armed with razor-sharp machetes and rifles
roam the city streets looking for "subversives.
Left-wing guerrillas blow up somebody's house or place of business
just about every night. And out on the streets, you learn to examine every car that
passes you for the barrel of a rifle or
pistol pointed at your belly.
"I don't think El Salvador has ever been more unhealthy,"
said Chong, relighting his pipe. "People don't come in my place after 8 at
night anymore because they are afraid somebody is going to throw a bomb through
the door. People are scared. I've never seen
them so scared."
Outside the Canton China
Bar and Restaurant, three government soldiers with semi -automatic rifles slung
over their shoulders stood on the corner talking. Chong watched them for a moment.
"When I left China, it was during the Japanese occupation
of Manchuria," he said. "The war was terrible. I wanted to find a peaceful
place to live, so I came to Central America. What a mistake. Of course, I'm too
damned old now to care. But sometimes when I see bodies in the streets with their
heads chopped off, I think I should have stayed In China."
(POSTSCRIPT: More than 75,000 civilians died
at the hands of government forces during the civil war in El Salvador
(1980-1992). These 12 years of violence were punctuated by three well known
atrocities: the 1980 assassination of Archbishop Oscar Romero that sparked the
conflict, the rape and murder of three American Maryknoll Nuns and a lay
missionary that caused international outrage and the 1989 Jesuits Massacre that
finally compelled the international community to intervene.)