THE PANAMANIAN PINEAPPLE
Anthony Daniels finds that
General 1Voriega's problems go beyond hoodwinking the populace
Panama THERE are parts of the city of Panama that do not lack a certain sleazy charm. In the old port are narrow streets with rickety houses, on whose wrought-iron balconies sit men in underwear and women in curlers, as trapped in steamy inertia as flies on flypaper. On the shoreline is the conspi- cuously whitewashed presidential palace, its windows mirrored like the sunglasses of a tonton macoute, the columns of the courtyard shimmering with silver mosaic. If it looks like an exclusive bordello, some say — in view of recent presidential history — that is entirely appropriate.
Above the presidential palace wheel hundreds of zopilotes, the ubiquitous black vultures of Central America. For what are they waiting, one wonders? Actually, it is wrong to call diem vultures: avian tax- onomists have recently reclassed them as modified storks, a veritable disaster for descriptive writers in Central America with more regard for accuracy than effect. They share with storks — the kind that bring babies -- the charming habit of urohydro- sis, dribbling dilute urine down their legs to evaporate and thus cool them off. The beach — if that is the word for black slime that entombs scores of old tyres and a 'It's a job-creation scheme.' rotting hulk — in front of the presidential palace smells as if a lot of modified storks have been trying to cool off there of late.
The tension in the city, like the power, is elsewhere. A run on the banks and shor- tage of efectivo, cash, has forced them to close their doors. Panama uses the US dollar which it renames the balboa, and the Reagan administration has placed an embargo on further dollars entering the country. Angry pensioners, with unnegoti- able government cheques, have set up barricades of rubbish bags and wooden poles in the banking district, painting the roads with slogans against the narcomili- tares. If no cash is found they will soon be joined by other, more formidable, groups in a similar position. The survival' in power of General Noriega, known as the Piña, the pineapple — on account of his less than perfect complexion — partially depends on the extent to which he is able to deflect the blame for the situation onto others. The intellectual level of his propaganda is not high; to say the least. For example, it is maintained officially that the run on the banks was provoked by the ousted presi- dent, Eric Delvalle; and Eric Delvalle, as the newspaper La Republica reported (and the newspaper Critica mysteriously repe- ated word for word the following day), is a member of the oligarchy: Marie! Delvalle is the daughter of Eric Arturo Delvalle (Tutoro, the former presi- dent) and is married to Samuel Louis Navar- ro, son of Gabriel Louis Galindo. They have two sons . : that is, Tutoro Delvalle and Gabriel Louis Galindo bave two grandchil- dren in common.
Ana Raquel Delvalle is the sister of Tuturo Delvalle and is married to David Eisenmann. David Eisenmann is the brother of Roberto (Boby) Eisenmann. Anna Ra- quel Delvalle and David Eisenmann have three bachelor sons . . . that is, Tuturo Delvalle and Boby Eisenmann have three nephews in common. Samuel Louis was a widower and was re-married to Lupita Calderon, widow of Arias. Samuel Louis is father of. Gabriel Louis Galindo and Lupita Calderon, widow of Arias, is the mother of Ricardo Arias Calderon. That is to say, Gabriel Louis Galindo and Ricardo Arias CalderOn are step-brothers. . . .
And so it goes on. All perfectly true, no doubt, but almost certainly true for some time before President Delvalle was over- thrown. In fact, the Piña is trying to take advantage of the easily aroused, fierce, fatuous anti-American nationalism of a people who travel in American buses decorated with portraits of Schwarzenne- ger, Madonna and Sylvester Stallone, listening to American music, wearing American clothes, who eat in Burger King (Ilogar del Whopper'), who watch Amer- ican films and television, play American sports, use American money and accept no other, who would all emigrate if they could to the United States, and whose principle historians appear to devote their lives to Proving that Theodore Roosevelt and the construction of the Panama Canal had nothing whatever to do with the independ- ence of the country. Furthermore, the chief heir and disciple of Omar Torrijos Herrera (the military dictator beloved of both Graham Greene and Gabriel Garcia Marques), whose income has been re- ported to be $15 million a month, is presenting himself as the authentic cham- pion of 'the downtrodden and oppressed. Can he get away with such abject non- sense?
The answer, if the history of the human race is anything to go by, seems to be, yes, it is quite possible. On Monday I went on a march with Panamanian communists to the American embassy, to demand that the Yankee animals cease their imperialistic interference in Panamanian affairs, and recognise Panama's right to total inde- pendence from the rest of the human race. Although the communists denied they were supporting the authorities (that is to say, the Piña), objectively — in the Stalin- ist sense of the word — that is precisely what they were doing, as next day's news- papers will prove.
However, the survival of General Noriega depends on something more than his ability to hoodwink those sections of the Panamanian public for whom outrage is its own reward. Not to put too fine a point on it, it depends on whether he can find the cash to pay his men, who until now have remained monolithically loyal to him, and then to pay the rest of the public sector: If the rumours are true, he has friends with quite a lot of cash. But would the United States also sit idly by while widespread repression became necessary?
Panatnanians, though, are not the only ones deceiving themselves and being de- ceived. The downfall of Noriega, should it occur, will do nothing whatever to solve the United States drug problem. There is, as the Colombian minister of the interior recently stated, but one solution to the problem: the complete legalisation of the sale and use of cocaine and heroin. In- creasingly, everything else is shadow- boxing. And since this measure is unlikely ever to be adopted, the Noriega affair will in the end confirm the immortal dictum on Latin-American politics uttered by the Venezuelan federalist, Antonio Leocadio Guzman, after the triumph of his cause over that of the centralists: 'If they had been called federalists,' he said, 'we would have been centralists.'
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