By Right of Might

Argentina's President Arturo Frondizi was known more for his political nimbleness than for his determination. But rarely has a Latin American President clung so courageously to his elected office in the face of such overwhelming opposition. For eleven days, Argentina's dominant military demanded his resignation as the "best patriotic solution to maintain the constitutional structure of the nation." Frondizi's reply was always the same: "I do not resign, nor will I resign." At last, led by a tough army general named Raul Poggi, the military physically removed the constitutional President of the land, and so, for the time being, democracy died in Argentina.

Test of Force. For a while it seemed as if Frondizi might weather his 36th crisis in four years as President. To a military enraged over the fact that he had permitted followers of ex-Dictator Juan Peron to win in free congressional and provincial elections, Frondizi offered almost everything except his resignation. But eventually the protest became a test of force from which neither side could turn. When all appeals and offers had failed, Frondizi ordered his presidential guard from the palace and sat down to wait alone, still grimly determined to preserve at least the form of democracy. When the military men confronted him, Frondizi offered his hand; they ignored it. "For the last time, are you willing to sign an act of resignation?" asked Army Commander Poggi. "No," answered Frondizi. "That is all," said Poggi.

The final act was played out with consummate idiocy and comic-opera overtones. That night, Poggi ordered the 3rd

Infantry Regiment, stationed in Buenos Aires' suburbs, to storm the palace. First came a scout, a second lieutenant in steel-helmeted battle dress, who kicked open a back-door service entrance--startling a dozing plainclothes cop and a reporter.

"Where is the commander of the guard?" asked the scout, submachine gun at the ready. "There is no commander of the guard," said the newsman. "Where are the soldiers?" asked the scout. "There are no soldiers," came the answer. "Everybody cleared out." Anticipating attack, the palace staff threw open the doors.

But the invading troops, apparently too embarrassed to execute so pointless an exercise, roared past in their trucks and pitched camp a few blocks away.

Frondizi was safely at home, his rest disturbed only by a sad 2 a.m. scene with 33 officers and men of his special presidential guard. The men offered to protect him with their lives. "My only protection is the law and our constitution," said Frondizi and went to bed. At 7:35 a.m., Frondizi's naval aide received a phone call, then placed the President under arrest. "Where are you taking me?" asked Frondizi. "To Martin Garcia Island," said the aide. "That is fitting," said Frondizi.

"The place has a long tradition."*

Front Man Wanted. By right of might, the man in control was General Poggi, 53, an anti-Peron soldier-engineer who has spent the bulk of his career in the Argentine army's industrial branch--a curiously unmilitary pet project of Peron's that still operates such fruitful enterprises as steel plants, chemical complexes, vehicle-assembly plants and motor-scooter factories. For a front man to give a semblance of legality, the military sounded out Senate President (pro tern) Jose Maria Guido, 52, a small-town lawyer and a member of Frondizi's Intransigent Radical Party, whose ambitions did not include the President's overthrow. Guido said no. Not until Frondizi phoned just before leaving for his prison island and freed him to take the presidency to avoid civil war did Guido agree.

At that, Guido did not step quite carefully enough to suit the military. On his own, he went to the Supreme Court to be sworn in as President. Poggi, who had been drafting a decree naming himself President, hastened to cross-examine Guido until he was convinced that the new President would not stand in the way of a drive to annul the elections that the Peronistas won, smash Peronista trade unions, and suppress Peronism completely.

Wait & See. Across Argentina, only the most muted protest rose over this bald assumption of power by the generals. A few small crowds gathered to shout "Viva Frondizi"--and were quickly dispersed by military tear gas. Most of the provincial governors, Intransigent Radicals themselves, called for Frondizi's restoration. The Peronistas, whose fanatical partisans smeared Buenos Aires with painted slogans (but got no financial help from Peron, who kept his millions to himself) during the election campaign, stayed safely at home.

The U.S., which had supported Frondizi and had hoped to make Argentina a showcase for the Alliance for Progress, was in a quandary. How deep was obvious from President Kennedy's answer to a question at his press conference: "Well, I think the events there are still uncertain, and now from the reports still not clear enough, and I think, therefore, it would be unwise, lacking that kind of precise information, for us to make comment at this time on the events in another country." A top State Department official interpreted: "We're waiting to see what happens." Ecuador & Peru. What happens could spread explosively beyond Argentina's borders. In Ecuador last week, army officers ordered President Carlos Julio Arosemena to break relations with Castro's Cuba, touching off a crisis in which Aro-semena's entire Cabinet resigned. In Peru, where a leader of Latin America's non-Communist left, Victor Raul Haya de la Torre, is running strong for next June's presidential elections, the Peruvian army promised to block his presidency. "Haya," said a general, "will not set foot in the presidential palace." One Latin American who acted to curb the infection was Venezuela's President Romulo Betancourt, who was himself once stripped of executive power by Venezuela's military. Betancourt refused to recognize the new Argentine government, recalled his diplomats from Buenos Aires, and sent a cable to 15 hemisphere presidents, including Kennedy. Declared Betancourt: "Legitimate government has been overthrown. This violent method of effecting changes in government has been an obstacle of singular importance hindering normal and progressive development and progress in Latin America. A firm stand seems to be called for so that the men who executed the coup d'etat in Argentina will feel that international toleration has forsaken them."

* The island, a naval base in the River Plate between Argentina and Uruguay, was used as a prison by armed-forces brass who overthrew liberal President Hipolito Irigoyen in 1930 and then Vice President Peron in 1945.

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