In an impressive show of dis- pleasure with the military govern- ment which holds the country in a dictatorial grip, an estimated 400,000 Uruguayans-almost half the population of the nation's cap- ital, Montevideo-marched in pro- test on November 27. The march was the latest in es- calating civilian opposition which began to gather momentum last June on the tenth anniversary of the military coup and has united political parties across the spec- trum and the population across gender and generation. In the process, Uruguayan military bru- tality appears to have dispelled most lingering illusions of a gentle return to democracy for the ap- proximately two million citizens who have not fled into exile. Military resistance to the swift return to democracy has solidifed what might otherwise have been competing political factions. Not only have the three legally recog- nized political parties-the Blanco, Colorado and Civic Union, all of which are centrist-joined forces to oppose the military government's slow-motion transition, but they are working with those parties still outlawed in an effort to open the political process to them as well. This goal has also united factions within the parties. Among conditions made last October by the Blanco, Colorado and Civic Union for the resump- tion of transition talks with the mili- tary were the lifting of proscription (the denial of all political rights) against individuals and parties; the restoration of employment rights to those forbidden certain jobs because of past political af- Jan/FNb 1984 filiations or perceived sympathies, and press freedom. Proscriptions of all political lead- ers except for Wilson Ferreira Al- dunate, most liberal of the Blanco Party presidential candidates in 1971 and the biggest vote-getter, were lifted by the military on No- vember 14. Nevertheless, in a further show of solidarity, both the representa- tives of the legal parties and those of the Frente Amplio, a coalition of liberal to left parties, sat together on the reviewing stand during the November demonstrations. Months of Conflict That solidarity has been gather- ing force since the tenth anniver- sary of the military takeover. In June, the first mass rally since the coup drew about 8,000 to demon- strate support for a return to de- mocracy and amnesty for political prisoners. Among those held in July during a month-long wave of political arrests was Professor Glenda Rondsn de Romero, ex- ecutive secretary of the Colorado Party leader. Romero claimed she was kidnapped and interrogated for two hours. Military officials deny the charge, however, and are seeking court proceedings against her for making a slander- ous charge against the authorities. Noting that she is a drama teach- er, military spokesmen say that the matter is the result of an "im- aginative mind tending towards the dramatic," according to reports received by the Council on Hemi- spheric Affairs (OOHA), a Wash- ington-based human rights group. On August 2, the government banned all public political activity. In mid-August two Catholic priests -Fathers Luis P6rez Aguirre and Jorge Osorio-and a Methodist minister, Ademar Olivera, went on a two-week hunger strike of pro- test slated to end August 25. Gre- gorio Alvarez, who was imposed as president in 1981, banned all press coverage of the fast. On Au- gust 19, police cordoned off the area around the office of the Peace and Justice Service, Uruguayan chapter of an ecumenical human rights group headed by Argentine Nobel Prize winner Adolofo Perez Esquivel, and detained 173 peo- ple overnight. The three clergymen are affiliated with the service. At 8 p.m. on August 25, Monte- video grew dark and noisy. Uru- guayans switched off household lights, then banged on pots and pans and blew car hornms in what has become a familiar Latin American protest cacophony, copied from Chilean middle-class women who first expressed displeasure with President Salvador Allende that way. Several thousand young people marched through the dark streets shouting anti-government slogans. Scores of students have been im- prisoned and tortured for their participation in peaceful demon- strations, according to reports re- ceived by human rights organiza- tions. Amnesty International's No- vember 9 report on the status of human rights in Uruguay confirmed the mistreatment of at least 30 students. In an effort to deny the protestors an organizational base, the gov- ernment outlawed the Peace and Justice Service-Uruguay's sole human rights group--on August 30. On September 16, laborers held a 10-minute work stoppage and a vigil of silence in protest at the imprisonment of peaceful de- monstrators and other political pri- 43update . update . update . update soners. In an attempt to stave off the work stoppage, 48 of the more than 400 detained since the de- monstrations began were released in September. Press Heavily Censored According to the Amnesty report, at least 1,000 political prisoners, including a number of journalists, remain in jail, The press remains heavily censored and journalists continue to be harassed, detained and jailed for offending the gov- ernment. Last August, during the crack-down on dissidents, cover- age of all political activity was for- bidden unless explicitly permitted by the government. The press has long been one of the regime's scapegoats. A report issued last June by the New York- based Committee to Protect Jour- nalists, after an on-site investiga- tion of freedom of expression in Uruguay, detailed repeated mili- tary abuses. Although few guide- lines exist for avoiding their wrath, the military continue to intimidate by acting suddenly and capricious- ly against press establishments that have offended them. Just three years ago, after vot- ers handed them a resounding plebiscite defeat, rejecting a mili- tary proposal that they retain a permanent role as governors, the military promised a gradual return to democracy. The transition pro- cess began last year with elections to select Blanco, Colorado and Civic Union representatives to ne- gotiate the transition with the mili- tary. Opposition candidates won easily. The process is to culminate in national elections in 1984 and the assumption of office by civilians in 1985. In the meantime, the elected political representatives and gov- ernment authorities were intended to write a new constitution under which Uruguay would reestablish a civilian administration. From the start, the talks were shaky and came to a halt entirely in July amidst the protests. Meanwhile, the government con- tinues to impose proscriptions and to limit freedom of expression. It is part of a sophisticated repressive tactic they have used since the takeover. Soon after the coup, the military government set up a com- puterized citizen categorization system, labeling Uruguayans as "A", "B" or "C." The latter classifi- cation, considered sympathetic to the opposition, is the most re- stricted, being barred from all gov- ernment jobs (about 25% of the economy) and free travel. B's who do not show loyalty to the regime are suspect. Those who were candidates for local or national office in 1966 or 1971 (while Uruguay was still un- der civilian government) were pro- scribed. Uruguay's most experi- enced political leaders have been proscribed until recently, includ- ing the exiled Wilson Ferreira and Jorge Batlle Ibbrez, opposition leader of the Colorado Party. The military has, however, recent- ly moved to lift the proscription against Batlle. Military Thwarts Process For all the grand design on paper, the military continues to thwart the process, though there are signs of a split within the 27- man junta between moderates, who favor a transition as planned, and hard-liners who support Gen. Alvarez's attempt to remain in power for another two to five years. Alvarez claims that the Uruguayans, whose democratic traditions date back more than 40 years before the 1973 military coup, are not yet ready for a return to democracy. Reluctant to release power, the 44 military has proposed one plan after another to stay in control- something they maintain is neces- sary to combat "Marxist subver- sion." If they do have to face elec- tions, the military is thinking of or- ganizing a political party, thus legitimizing a military candidate for president in the promised gen- eral elections. In an effort to maintain control after civilians take office, military leaders would like to impose CON- SENA, a military advisory council which would be authorized to in- tervene to protect national secur- ity-efined in sweeping terms to include social, economic and po- litical matters. Widespread opposi- tion to this proposal is one of the major stumbling blocks in the transition negotiations. As Uruguay's economic and social crisis grows steadily more serious-45% inflation, 17% unem- ployment and a $4 billion foreign debt-and its goverment more re- luctant to step out of politics as promised, citizen protest grows more insistent. Party conventions in December will assess the cur- rent situation and plan strategy for the future. Whatever the outcome, it seems certain that Uruguayans will continue to insist on the resto- ration of full democracy. In the process, they may also set an ex- ample for the rest of South Ameri- ca to follow. At the same time, if they can be convinced to grace- fully relax their ruling grip, Uru- guay's military still has a chance to show other hemispheric dicta- tors the path to a peaceful resto- ration of self-determination. Mercedes Lynn de Uriarte is a Los Angeles Times staff writer, an Alicia Patterson fellow and a part-time pro- fessor in the Latin American Studies Center at UCLA. In April she led an international investigation team to Uru- guay for the Committee to Protect Journalists.
