Gabriel Garcia Marquez_ A Life Part 10

Despite all his success and his exciting activities in Cuba, these were exceptionally difficult years for Garcia Marquez. Even he had to recognize that perhaps he had taken on too much and spread his talent and his energy too thin. He found himself a.s.sailed by his enemies on the right and involved in numerous polemics and controversies for which he had little appet.i.te at this time, not to mention a number of scandals or near-scandals laced with malicious gossip which were not entirely becoming to a man nearing sixty years of age. In March 1988 he celebrated both his sixtieth birthday and his and Mercedes's thirtieth wedding anniversary (21 April) in Mexico City and Cuernavaca. Belisario Betancur and thirty other friends from all over the world were in attendance. Much fun was had in the Colombian press as to whether it was Garcia Marquez's sixtieth or sixty-first birthday-it was his sixty-first, of course-including headlines like "Garcia Marquez sixty again," and he would not be able to continue with the farce of this deception for much longer-though most writers, truth to tell, including the blurb writers at his publishers, would continue to use a 1928 birth date until the publication of Living to Tell the Tale Living to Tell the Tale in 2002, and some even beyond that. in 2002, and some even beyond that.

It was this month also that he published his much reprinted, definitive-humorous and affectionate-portrait of Fidel Castro, "Plying the Word," in which he stressed Castro's verbal rather than military attributes. He referred to his friend's "iron discipline" and "terrible power of seduction." He said it was "impossible to conceive of anyone more addicted to the habit of conversation" and that when Castro was weary of talking "he rests by talking"; he was also a "voracious reader." He revealed that Fidel was "one of the rare Cubans who neither sings nor dances" and admitted, "I do not think anyone in this world could be a worse loser." But the Cuban leader was also "a man of austere ways and insatiable illusions, with an old-fashioned formal education, of cautious words and delicate manners ... I think he is one of the greatest idealists of our time and this, perhaps, may be his greatest virtue, although it has also been his greatest danger." Yet when Garcia Marquez asked him once what he would most like to do, the great leader had replied: "Hang around on some street corner."23 Now came a temporary turn to the theatre. In January 1988 it was announced that the Argentinian actress Graciela Dufau would be starring in an adaptation of a brief work by Garcia Marquez ent.i.tled Diatribe of Love Against a Seated Man. Diatribe of Love Against a Seated Man.24 Garcia Marquez would say that the play was a Garcia Marquez would say that the play was a cantaleta cantaleta, a repet.i.tive, nagging rant, a word that implies that the nagger-usually a woman, of course-gets no answer from the object of her attentions, nor does she expect one. (Throughout his adult life Garcia Marquez had always said that there was no point arguing with women.) This theme, this form, had obsessed Garcia Marquez for many years and indeed one of his early ideas for The Autumn of the Patriarch The Autumn of the Patriarch was a was a cantaleta cantaleta against the dictator by one of the main women in his life. against the dictator by one of the main women in his life.25 The premiere in the Cervantes Theatre in Buenos Aires had to be delayed from 17 to 20 August 1988. In the end Garcia Marquez, too anxious-"as nervous as a debutante," in his own words-to cope with the stress of confronting a live performance of his work, remained in Havana and sent Mercedes, Carmen Balcells and her twenty-four-year-old photographer son Miguel to face the critics of Buenos Aires, the most demanding and most terrifying in Latin America. The whole of Buenos Aires's "political and cultural world" was in attendance, including several government ministers. The notable absences were President Alfonsin and the distinguished playwright himself. Sadly, the return to a great theatre in Buenos Aires did not repeat the previous experience of 1967. The play received no more than polite applause and there was no standing ovation. Reviews from the Buenos Aires drama critics were mixed but the majority were negative. A typical reaction came from Osvaldo Quiroga of the heavyweight La Nacion: La Nacion: "It is difficult to recognize the author of "It is difficult to recognize the author of One Hundred Years of Solitude One Hundred Years of Solitude in this long monologue by a woman tired of being happy without love ... It shows his complete ignorance of dramatic language. It cannot be denied that in this long monologue by a woman tired of being happy without love ... It shows his complete ignorance of dramatic language. It cannot be denied that Diatribe Diatribe is a superficial, repet.i.tive and tedious melodrama." is a superficial, repet.i.tive and tedious melodrama."26 The play, a one-act monologue, is set, like Love in the Time of Cholera Love in the Time of Cholera, in an unnamed city which is unmistakably Cartagena de Indias. Graciela's first words, subtly changed since first quoted by Garcia Marquez, are: "Nothing is more like h.e.l.l on earth than a happy marriage!" Novels have narrative irony built in but a play relies on dramatic irony, which needs a different kind of creative intuition, one for which he appears to have little feel. Worse than this, though, worse even than the lack of dramatic action, the play's most damaging flaw appears to be a deficit of serious reflection and a.n.a.lysis. Like Love in the Time of Cholera Love in the Time of Cholera in part, in part, Diatribe of Love Against a Seated Man Diatribe of Love Against a Seated Man deals with marital conflict (as indeed had deals with marital conflict (as indeed had No One Writes to the Colonel No One Writes to the Colonel, over thirty years before);27 and the central proposition-that traditional marriage doesn't work for most women-is obviously an important one, albeit one that this sixty-year-old author was by now perhaps insufficiently modern to explore in a radical or even meaningful way. Sadly, and the central proposition-that traditional marriage doesn't work for most women-is obviously an important one, albeit one that this sixty-year-old author was by now perhaps insufficiently modern to explore in a radical or even meaningful way. Sadly, Diatribe of Love Against a Seated Man Diatribe of Love Against a Seated Man is a one-dimensional work which, unlike Love in the Time of Cholera, adds little or nothing to the world canon of great works about love. Garcia Marquez had said not long before that he had never wanted to be a movie director because "I don't like to lose." is a one-dimensional work which, unlike Love in the Time of Cholera, adds little or nothing to the world canon of great works about love. Garcia Marquez had said not long before that he had never wanted to be a movie director because "I don't like to lose."28 The theatre was an even riskier venture. Here for once he had lost. He would never try again. The theatre was an even riskier venture. Here for once he had lost. He would never try again.

AFTER THE TRIUMPHANT publication of publication of Love in the Time of Cholera Love in the Time of Cholera, despite a nagging, anguished sense of fragility which kept appearing in the midst of his apparent immortality, Garcia Marquez had begun to act as if there were no limit to his energies or his ability to work at a high level over a whole range of different activities. Yet there were unmistakable signs of fraying. Clandestine in Chile bore obvious traces of haste; Diatribe of Love Against a Seated Man Clandestine in Chile bore obvious traces of haste; Diatribe of Love Against a Seated Man was an experiment in a medium in which he was out of his depth; and working on six film scripts simultaneously was perhaps too much for any man, added to all of which he had already started his next major book, nothing less than a novel on Latin America's most important heroic figure of all time, Simon Bolivar. was an experiment in a medium in which he was out of his depth; and working on six film scripts simultaneously was perhaps too much for any man, added to all of which he had already started his next major book, nothing less than a novel on Latin America's most important heroic figure of all time, Simon Bolivar.

Garcia Marquez had been intensely committed to the politics and administration of the new film foundation and film school but he had devoted much less time in recent months to international politics and his conspiracies and mediations. Although matters in Central America were grim, Cuba had seemed to be in one of its most comfortable and confident moments. But things were beginning to change there too. Garcia Marquez was about to find that his brief sabbatical from politics and diplomacy would soon be over as dark clouds began to gather over both Cuba and Colombia, clouds which would not lift again for the rest of the century.

In July 1987 he was the guest of honour at the Moscow Film Festival. On the 11th he was received by Mikhail Gorbachev at the Kremlin and urged the radical reformist Soviet leader to travel to Latin America. At this time Gorbachev was the most talked-about politician on the planet. They discussed, so an official communique said, "the restructuring being carried out in the USSR, its international implications, the role of intellectuals and the transcendence of humanist values in the world today."29 Gorbachev said that in reading Garcia Marquez's books you could see there were no schemes, they were inspired by a love of humanity. Garcia Marquez said that Gorbachev said that in reading Garcia Marquez's books you could see there were no schemes, they were inspired by a love of humanity. Garcia Marquez said that glasnost glasnost and and perestroika perestroika were great words implying vast historical change-maybe! Some people-no doubt he was thinking of Fidel Castro-were sceptical, he said. Was he sceptical himself? That he was in two minds about the outcome was shown by later comments in which he revealed that he had told Gorbachev he was anxious that some politicians-presumably Reagan, Thatcher, Pope John Paul II-might wish to take advantage of his good faith and so there were dangers ahead. He said it was obvious to him that Gorbachev was sincere and declared that for him, Garcia Marquez, the meeting had been the most important event of his recent life. were great words implying vast historical change-maybe! Some people-no doubt he was thinking of Fidel Castro-were sceptical, he said. Was he sceptical himself? That he was in two minds about the outcome was shown by later comments in which he revealed that he had told Gorbachev he was anxious that some politicians-presumably Reagan, Thatcher, Pope John Paul II-might wish to take advantage of his good faith and so there were dangers ahead. He said it was obvious to him that Gorbachev was sincere and declared that for him, Garcia Marquez, the meeting had been the most important event of his recent life.30 For once he may not have been exaggerating. For once he may not have been exaggerating.

Towards the end of the following year he finally came into intimate proximity with power in Mexico, the country in which he had lived for more than twenty years in total. In December 1988 Carlos Salinas de Gortari became President and Garcia Marquez moved quickly to secure his relationship with the new leader. They would work closely together on international politics during the coming years. From Mexico he travelled to Caracas to attend Venezuelan Carlos Andres Perez's second inauguration-in fulfilment of a promise he had made at a time when only he, Garcia Marquez, thought that the mercurial populist might ever make a comeback.

He had been working on the Bolivar novel almost since the moment that he completed Love in the Time of Cholera Love in the Time of Cholera. Though all his novels had been based on an understanding of Latin American and world history, and although he had read widely about dictators and dictatorship in order to write The Autumn of the Patriarch The Autumn of the Patriarch, he had never had to consider the methods of investigating and writing history as such. Now, because his central character was a historical actor, and one of the best-known ones at that, he felt that every event in his novel had to be verified historically and every thought, statement or foible of Bolivar's in the book had to be appropriately researched and contextualized. This would involve not only personally reading dozens of books about Bolivar and his era and thousands of Bolivar's letters but also consulting a whole range of authorities, including several of the leading experts on the life and times of the great Liberator.31 In creating his Patriarch in the 1970s, Garcia Marquez had been free to choose whichever facet of whichever dictator he liked at any given moment in order to fashion a creative synthesis which would make sense within his overall design. With Bolivar, although every historian discovers, or invents, a different persona, the basic material was inevitably much more established and intractable, and he soon learned that for the historian each interpretative a.s.sertion has to be based on more than one, and in most cases many, pieces of evidence, the result being that what appears in the eventual work is merely the tip of a vast iceberg.32 Somehow he had to process that vast archive of information and yet maintain his own creative faculty so that Bolivar would somehow arise refreshed from the research rather than lie buried under a mountain of desiccated facts. Somehow he had to process that vast archive of information and yet maintain his own creative faculty so that Bolivar would somehow arise refreshed from the research rather than lie buried under a mountain of desiccated facts.

Of course, although the Liberator had written or dictated ten thousand letters and there were innumerable memoirs written about him both by his own collaborators and others who came across him during his life, there were whole swathes of time when little was known about what he was involved in, and the question of his private life-especially his love life-remained relatively open. Moreover the sequence that most interested Garcia Marquez, for both personal and literary reasons-Bolivar's last journey down the Magdalena River-had been virtually untouched by either letters or memoirs, leaving the novelist free to invent his own stories within the limits of historical verisimilitude.

The novel would be dedicated to Alvaro Mutis, whose idea it was and who had even written a brief fragment of a first version, "The Last Face," when he was in prison in Mexico at the end of the 1950s. Eventually Garcia Marquez got him to concede that he was never going to finish the project and seized it for himself. The t.i.tle, The General in His Labyrinth The General in His Labyrinth, was established almost from the beginning of Garcia Marquez's research on the book.

Simon Bolivar was born in Caracas, Venezuela, in 1783, a member of the Creole aristocracy. At that time the whole of the continent of what we now call Latin America remained in the hands of Spain and Portugal, as it had for almost three centuries, while England and France each controlled a few islands in the Caribbean. Slavery existed in every Latin American country, as it did also in the recently independent United States of America. By the time Bolivar died in 1830 almost the whole of Latin America had become independent of external powers and slavery had been officially condemned and in some cases abolished. All of this owed more to Bolivar than to any other single individual.

Bolivar's father, a landowner, died when he was two and a half; his mother died when he was not yet nine years of age. When he was twelve he rebelled against the uncle who had taken him in and moved to the house of his tutor Simon Rodriguez; after travelling in Europe he married, at the age of nineteen, a young woman who died less than eight months later. At that moment he seems to have decided that it was his destiny to be alone in the world. (He would never marry again, though he would be linked with dozens of women, the best-known of whom was his doughty Ecuadorean mistress, Manuelita Saenz, herself by now a not inconsiderable legend, who saved his life on more than one occasion.) On returning to Europe he was present at the coronation of Napoleon in Paris in December 1804; he was inspired by Napoleon's achievements as liberator of Europe but repelled by his decision to make himself a monarch. On returning to Latin America, having vowed to give his life to the liberation of the colonies held by Spain, he began a military career which eventually saw him achieve supreme prestige throughout the continent and the honourable t.i.tle of Liberator. All other leaders, even great generals such as San Martin, Sucre, Santander, Urdaneta and Paez, were consigned w.i.l.l.y-nilly, one after another, to Bolivar's shadow.

Beyond the matter of battles won and lost, when one considers the statistics of Bolivar's marches up and down the continent, across the Andes and along the mighty rivers of that still untamed geography, the facts and figures of his twenty-year campaign are stupefying; yet he was never seriously wounded in battle. His first mission along the Magdalena River in Colombia was at the age of twenty-nine; at the age of thirty he was proclaimed Liberator of Venezuela; at thirty-eight he was elected President of Colombia, which then included present-day Venezuela and Ecuador. During this period he wrote some of the key doc.u.ments of Latin American ident.i.ty, most notably his Jamaica Letter Jamaica Letter of 1815, in which he argued that all Latin American regions had more similarities than differences and that the continent's mixed-race ident.i.ty should be accepted and embraced. of 1815, in which he argued that all Latin American regions had more similarities than differences and that the continent's mixed-race ident.i.ty should be accepted and embraced.

Yet once the Spaniards were vanquished local leaders began to a.s.sert their local and regional interests and the fragmentation of the now liberated republics began; anarchy, dictatorship and disillusionment appeared like tragic spectres on the horizon; and Bolivar's overriding dream, the unity of Latin America, began to fade. He became a nuisance, the voice of an impractical idealism; others might never have been able to achieve the almost impossible feats which Bolivar had undertaken but they now considered themselves far more realistic than he in the post-emanc.i.p.ation situation. The prime example was Colombia's Francisco de Paula Santander, Bolivar's nemesis and, in Garcia Marquez's eyes, the paradigmatic cachaco cachaco. The novel begins at the moment when Bolivar has realized that there is no future for him in Colombia, despite all his achievements and continuing prestige, and begins the retreat from Bogota, which is in effect the retreat from his own grandiose vision. At forty-six years of age, ailing and disillusioned, the great Liberator sets off down the Magdalena River on his way towards exile, though Garcia Marquez suggests that Bolivar never finally gave up hope and was still intending to organize another expeditionary campaign of liberation, should that prove possible.

The novel is in eight chapters, and falls, once more, into two halves. The first half, chapters 1 to 4, narrates the journey down that great river that Garcia Marquez himself would travel, over a century later, on his way to school.33 In Bolivar's case, this last journey took place between 8 and 23 May 1830. The second half, chapters 5 to 8, narrates Bolivar's last six months of life, 24 May to 17 December 1830, six months spent by the sea on that Costa which would later be the scene of Garcia Marquez's childhood and much of his youth. One of Spain's best-loved poems, Jorge Manrique's In Bolivar's case, this last journey took place between 8 and 23 May 1830. The second half, chapters 5 to 8, narrates Bolivar's last six months of life, 24 May to 17 December 1830, six months spent by the sea on that Costa which would later be the scene of Garcia Marquez's childhood and much of his youth. One of Spain's best-loved poems, Jorge Manrique's Verses on the Death of My Father Verses on the Death of My Father, composed at the end of the medieval period, is known above all for the line, "Our lives are the rivers that flow down into the sea which is death." And for one further verse which states that death is the "trap," the "ambush," into which we fall. Or, as Garcia Marquez might say, following Bolivar himself, the "labyrinth" into which we fall. Although Garcia Marquez does not mention Manrique, his novel follows exactly the same logic as Manrique's great poem.

The subject of the t.i.tle, "the General," signifies power but the concept of "the labyrinth" suggests before the work even begins that not even the powerful can control fate and destiny. Of course such impotence may also imply exculpation of, even sympathy for, the powerful, which the infant Garcia Marquez may have felt when Colonel Nicolas Marquez was the only "powerful"-protective, influential, respectable-person he knew. Is his entire oeuvre in some way reflecting upon the impossibility of holding on to that old man, the anguish of having as a "father" someone so old and vulnerable that the most important lesson you learn as a small child is that your only security, your beloved grandfather, must "soon" die? Such a lesson teaches that all power is desirable, essential, yet frail, false, transient, illusory. Garcia Marquez is almost alone in contemporary world literature in his obsession with, indeed his sympathy with, men of power. And although he has always been a socialist this permanent note of aristocratic identification, however much moderated by irony (or even moral condemnation), may explain why his books have an apparently inexplicable power of their own: tragedy, it goes without saying, is greater, wider and deeper when protagonists are aggrandised by power, by isolation, by solitude and, not least, by their influence on the lives of millions of people and history itself.

By the time he wrote The General in His Labyrinth The General in His Labyrinth Garcia Marquez had long been closely acquainted with Fidel Castro, undoubtedly a leading candidate for the number two position-after Bolivar-in the list of Latin America's great men. Simply in terms of political longevity-almost half a century in power-Fidel Castro's record is difficult to deny. And Fidel, Garcia Marquez once told me, is "a king." Garcia Marquez himself, in contrast, has always insisted that he has neither the talent, the vocation nor the desire-still less the ability-to endure such solitude. The solitude of the serious writer is enormous, he has always averred; but the solitude of the political Great Leader is of quite another order. Nevertheless here, in this novel, although Bolivar's character is, undoubtedly, based factually on that of the Liberator, many of his foibles and vulnerabilities are a combination of Bolivar's, Castro's and Garcia Marquez's own. Garcia Marquez had long been closely acquainted with Fidel Castro, undoubtedly a leading candidate for the number two position-after Bolivar-in the list of Latin America's great men. Simply in terms of political longevity-almost half a century in power-Fidel Castro's record is difficult to deny. And Fidel, Garcia Marquez once told me, is "a king." Garcia Marquez himself, in contrast, has always insisted that he has neither the talent, the vocation nor the desire-still less the ability-to endure such solitude. The solitude of the serious writer is enormous, he has always averred; but the solitude of the political Great Leader is of quite another order. Nevertheless here, in this novel, although Bolivar's character is, undoubtedly, based factually on that of the Liberator, many of his foibles and vulnerabilities are a combination of Bolivar's, Castro's and Garcia Marquez's own.

The central subject, then, is power, not tyranny. In other words, Garcia Marquez's books are sometimes seen from the side of the powerful, sometimes from the side of the powerless, but they are not primarily intended to inspire hatred against tyrants or the "ruling cla.s.s"-unlike hundreds of protest novels written within the main current of Latin American literary narrative. His constant themes, constantly interwoven, are the irony of history (especially power turning to impotence, life turning to death), fate, destiny, chance, luck, foreboding, presentiment, coincidence, synchronicity, dreams, ideals, ambitions, nostalgias, longings, the body, will and the enigma of the human subject. His t.i.tles frequently refer to power (Colonel, Patriarch, General, Big Mama), power which is usually challenged in some way ("no one writes," "solitude," "autumn," "funeral," "labyrinth," "death foretold," "kidnapping"), and to the different forms of representation of reality as related to the different ways of conceiving and organizing time into history or narrative ("no one writes," "one hundred years," "time of," "chronicle of," "news of," "memoir of"). His works almost always include the theme of waiting, which is, of course, merely the other side of power, the experience of the impotent. All the way through this novel, for example, Bolivar is announcing his departure, first from Bogota, then from Colombia, but really of course he is leaving power, while pretending to himself that he is not leaving anything, least of all this life, though nothing can delay that inevitable departure. So waiting is again a huge theme; but delaying (which the powerful-Castro, for example-can do, and love to do) is a bigger theme here (Bolivar delaying his departure from Colombia, from power and glory, delaying accepting reality, death ...).

Some of the impetus for the book must have come from Garcia Marquez's work on his n.o.bel Prize speech in which, like others before him, he felt it inc.u.mbent upon himself to speak as a representative not of one country but of a whole continent. Much of what he said on that occasion was tacitly "Bolivarian" and many of the ideas turn up again in the novel; indeed, the n.o.bel speech provides indispensable background to a reading and interpretation of the work. This is all the more ironic since Garcia Marquez, as we have seen, was very slow to come to an awareness of "Latin America," even during his stay in Europe. Only after visiting both the centre of capitalism and the centre of communism did he come to see that, despite his moral and theoretical attraction to socialism, neither system was the answer for Latin America because in practice both systems functioned primarily in the interests of the countries that advocated them. Latin America had to look after itself; and thus had to unify. Bolivar in the novel has trenchant views about the different European nationalities, favouring the British, of course, given the a.s.sistance Great Britain gave at that time to the South American liberation movements; the French come out badly; and the United States, in Bolivar's own words, is "omnipotent and terrible, and its tale of liberty will end in a plague of miseries for us all."

Such are the themes involved in the book and the central problems which structure it. But no matter how much research Garcia Marquez had put into it, no matter how coherent its ideological design and the literary architecture which supported it, the novel would have failed absolutely if the central character had not come alive. And he does. Garcia Marquez takes on the most famous and familiar of all Latin Americans and gives his own version, with breathtaking audacity and astonishing naturalness. Though this is certainly not his greatest work it may well be his greatest achievement because the magnitude of the challenge is there for all to see. Any reader familiar with biographies of Bolivar, on finishing this book, is likely to conclude that Garcia Marquez's version of the man, achieved in well under three hundred pages and containing the whole of the life within the journey completed in the last six months of it, will henceforth be inseparable from whatever image of Bolivar is carried down to posterity.

Bolivar is alive, though already mortally ill, from the very first page, where he lies naked-buried, one might say-in his morning bath. His nakedness shocked many readers-as it would shock them to find him vomiting, farting, copulating and cursing, or cheating at cards, or showing a petulant, childish side to his character far removed from the hagiographic vision so common in Latin American speeches and ceremonial. Yet the portrait is also of a man transfused by a touching gallantry: cast down, certainly, by his misfortunes, his rejections and his approaching death, yet never finally defeated even in the darkest and most hopeless of times. Bolivar becomes a Garcia Marquez character in this novel, it cannot be denied; but part of this writer's greatness is that the "Latin American character" is precisely what he has captured and rendered eternal, long before he turned to Bolivar, and the great Liberator is here revealed as the template for countless Latin Americans suffering, striving and sometimes succ.u.mbing in the arduous kingdom of this world. For all his own vanities and occasional arrogance, Garcia Marquez, subjected to stresses that it is given to few other writers even to imagine, has himself, in turn, reacted to this aesthetic and historical challenge with a grace and a gallantry that few other writers are able to attain. Hence the moving impact the book makes upon most of its readers.

The novel's publication was flagged up weeks before it eventually appeared. Garcia Marquez has always boasted that he never attends the launch of any of his books and often suggests that he personally finds it demeaning to have to peddle as a commercial product something which for him is, in its original impulse, an aesthetic creation quite indifferent to whatever exchange value it may eventually have in the capitalist book market. But the truth is that even One Hundred Years of Solitude One Hundred Years of Solitude was publicized long before it appeared. And with each new book the hype increased. All this was why, years later, some people would begin to call him "Garcia Marketing." was publicized long before it appeared. And with each new book the hype increased. All this was why, years later, some people would begin to call him "Garcia Marketing."

On 19 February, the first reaction to the novel, read in typescript, was a letter from no less a reader than the ex-President of Colombia, Alfonso Lopez Michelsen, whose response, "I devoured your latest book," published in El Tiempo El Tiempo, was used to advertise the book before it even came out.34 Lopez declared that Garcia Marquez had shown an astonishing versatility: supposedly a magical realist, he had now written a naturalist work that Zola might have penned had he had the talent. Lopez had been unable to put the book down: he said that although Bolivar's story was known to everyone in Latin America, the reader was sucked in as if by a detective story. Garcia Marquez's original new thesis that Bolivar was still hoping to make a political comeback even on his deathbed was credible because "that's the story with all of us who have gone out of power." Later it would be revealed that ex-President Betancur had also read the book (he was less fulsome because of course its "liberal" interpretation was less acceptable to him, a Conservative, than to Lopez), Lopez declared that Garcia Marquez had shown an astonishing versatility: supposedly a magical realist, he had now written a naturalist work that Zola might have penned had he had the talent. Lopez had been unable to put the book down: he said that although Bolivar's story was known to everyone in Latin America, the reader was sucked in as if by a detective story. Garcia Marquez's original new thesis that Bolivar was still hoping to make a political comeback even on his deathbed was credible because "that's the story with all of us who have gone out of power." Later it would be revealed that ex-President Betancur had also read the book (he was less fulsome because of course its "liberal" interpretation was less acceptable to him, a Conservative, than to Lopez),35 and the current Liberal President, Virgilio Barco, had stayed up into the night to finish it. and the current Liberal President, Virgilio Barco, had stayed up into the night to finish it.36 Even Fidel Castro, that great admirer of Cuba's own would-be liberator, Jose Marti, had read the novel and had been heard to declare that it gave a "pagan image" of Bolivar. Even Fidel Castro, that great admirer of Cuba's own would-be liberator, Jose Marti, had read the novel and had been heard to declare that it gave a "pagan image" of Bolivar.37 No one was entirely sure what this meant, or whether it was good or bad. No one was entirely sure what this meant, or whether it was good or bad.

There were innumerable reviews in newspapers and magazines all over the Spanish-speaking world. This was not only a new novel by the greatest literary name in the language but a portrait of the most important figure in the entire history of Latin America, whose persona and image were dear to millions, not least to the guardians of the Bolivarian flame, whether serious historians, ideologists or demagogues. Most of the reviews were extremely positive but, unusually for Garcia Marquez but not surprisingly, there were also some determined attempts at demolition. A significant minority of critics argued that Garcia Marquez's overweening sense of his own glory had got in the way of his presentation of Bolivar-a presentation allegedly full of linguistic effects conceived as spectacle, like self-congratulatory fireworks, instead of the appropriate communication of Bolivar's own possible subjectivity, plus a series of stock phrases and episodic structures whose true function was to draw attention to the Garcia Marquez brand, with the novel as a mausoleum to the writer himself rather than to its protagonist.38 Predictably, perhaps, the most negative reaction came from Garcia Marquez's old bete noire bete noire, El Tiempo El Tiempo, which, in an editorial no less, found the work anti-Colombian: But the book has a political background. During the course of its 284 pages the author cannot conceal his philosophy, especially in the ideological field. He gives vent to an unrepressed hatred for Santander and a cordial antipathy for Bogota and its cla.s.sic product the cachacos cachacos, whilst pointing out the General's personal characteristics, attributing to his Caribbean origin the greater part of the impulse that carried him to glory. With great subtlety and skill he emphasizes Bolivar's dictatorial personality and mulatto blood, as well as his earthy disposition, to create an impalpable comparison with Fidel Castro.39 This disturbing diatribe shows how offensive Garcia Marquez's appropriation of Bolivar seemed to the guardians of Colombia's national ident.i.ty: he had pressed every single b.u.t.ton and the editorialist had evidently lost his cool. Garcia Marquez, no doubt feeling the satisfaction of the warrior who has smoked his enemy out into the open, responded in kind: "I've said before that El Tiempo El Tiempo is a demented newspaper protected by a quite unusual impunity... It says whatever it wants against whoever it likes, without measuring the consequences or thinking about the political, social or personal damage it might do. Very few people dare to answer it back for fear of its immense power." "We need to discover ourselves," Garcia Marquez concluded, "we don't want Columbus to remain as our discoverer." This was inevitably followed by a response from is a demented newspaper protected by a quite unusual impunity... It says whatever it wants against whoever it likes, without measuring the consequences or thinking about the political, social or personal damage it might do. Very few people dare to answer it back for fear of its immense power." "We need to discover ourselves," Garcia Marquez concluded, "we don't want Columbus to remain as our discoverer." This was inevitably followed by a response from El Tiempo El Tiempo itself ent.i.tled "The n.o.bel's Tantrum," on 5 April; it declared that "Garcia Marquez only accepts praise" and called him the "Baron of Macondo." itself ent.i.tled "The n.o.bel's Tantrum," on 5 April; it declared that "Garcia Marquez only accepts praise" and called him the "Baron of Macondo."40 It was clear that something was happening both to Garcia Marquez himself and to his reputation. His relationships with the great and the good were continuing to grow-political leaders such as Castro, Salinas and Perez clearly thought they needed him more than he needed them-but the rest of the world was beginning to notice and in some quarters there was less indulgence than before. Moreover Garcia Marquez himself seemed suddenly to be under increased stress-over his relationship with Castro and Cuba, unsubstantiated newspaper insinuations of s.e.xual dalliances, waning middle age, the fear that his popularity was declining and that his political influence might follow-and was more inclined to overreact to attacks or to criticism. He seemed, for the first time, to be ever so slightly losing his touch. Colombian articles would say, and did say, that his fame and influence had definitively gone to his head and he was simply reacting from a loftier height of vanity, narcissism and hypersensitivity.

But of course things were more complex than this. The truth was that the Cold War game, which Garcia Marquez played better than anyone, was almost over, even if few observers were predicting that the end would come as soon as November 1989. The climate had changed immeasurably and Garcia Marquez's manoeuvres were less confident and relaxed, and intuited as such by journalists who, even if they could not see the future in a crystal ball as clearly as he could, also responded inevitably to the changing atmosphere.

Garcia Marquez had written the most talked-about book ever published on Bolivar-the most important politician in the history of Latin America-and had become embroiled himself, as he must have antic.i.p.ated, in a whole series of political debates in different places and at different levels. His former friend Mario Vargas Llosa, meanwhile, was involved even more directly in matters political. Indeed he was running as a candidate to become the President of Peru on a neoliberal ticket. He and Garcia Marquez had diverged radically about Peruvian affairs in the late 1960s when Garcia Marquez, like most Latin American leftists, conditionally supported the progressive military regime of General Juan Velasco, whereas Vargas Llosa was against him; indeed, dislike for the military was something which characterized Vargas Llosa at all times, whereas Garcia Marquez, always the realist, though personally non-violent, knew that no country, state or regime could survive without an army and thus the military always had to be given some form of respect. At the end of March Garcia Marquez could be found wishing his former friend well, though with reservations: "In Latin America it is inevitable that a person who has a certain public audience ends up in politics. But no one had gone as far as Mario Vargas Llosa. I hope he is not being dragged along by circ.u.mstances but believes that he really can resolve the situation in Peru. Even with so many ideological differences, one can only wish, if he gets elected, that the presidency goes well for him, in the interests of Peru."41 He added that when one is famous, "one should not be naive, so that no one can use you." In the event, to the disappointment of most literary spectators, Vargas Llosa was defeated by the almost unknown populist Alberto Fujimori, who went on to become one of Latin America's most notorious end-of-century rulers. He added that when one is famous, "one should not be naive, so that no one can use you." In the event, to the disappointment of most literary spectators, Vargas Llosa was defeated by the almost unknown populist Alberto Fujimori, who went on to become one of Latin America's most notorious end-of-century rulers.

In March Spain confirmed what an irate Garcia Marquez had been predicting for months, when it adopted European Community regulations which meant that Latin Americans would no longer be given automatic visas for entry to the Peninsula. In a fit of pique and monomania reminiscent of his Pinochet fiasco, he announced: "I will never go back to Spain."42 Needless to say, he would have to change his tune, but he was genuinely affronted. Spaniards didn't have visas when they arrived in Latin America in 1492, he snorted. Why, even Franco had allowed Latin Americans to become Spanish citizens. He told the press he had warned Felipe Gonzalez that when Spain entered the European Union, "you'll turn your backs on Latin America." Now they had. Needless to say, he would have to change his tune, but he was genuinely affronted. Spaniards didn't have visas when they arrived in Latin America in 1492, he snorted. Why, even Franco had allowed Latin Americans to become Spanish citizens. He told the press he had warned Felipe Gonzalez that when Spain entered the European Union, "you'll turn your backs on Latin America." Now they had.43 The truth was that his relationship with Gonzalez, though a close one, was continually troubled by two irremediable irritants. Gonzalez had made the long march from clandestine subversion of the Franco regime to membership not only of the European Community but even of NATO, and so the interests of Spain were no longer "complementary" to those of Latin America, as the Spaniards were claiming, but antagonistic: Spain was now, really for the first time in its modern history, part of "the West," as Gonzalez himself would announce quite soon when Spain sent forces to the Gulf War against Iraq in 1991. Secondly, there was nothing Gonzalez would have liked to do more than satisfy Garcia Marquez's constant demands for him to ease Cuba back into the international community of nations; but Gonzalez found Castro's dictatorial practices unacceptable-as well as inconvenient-in the world in which he now moved and was constantly irritated by what he perceived as Castro's incorrigible stubbornness and inability to adjust to the way the world was moving. (Castro, needless to say, was increasingly convinced that Gonzalez was a traitor to international socialism.) The truth was that his relationship with Gonzalez, though a close one, was continually troubled by two irremediable irritants. Gonzalez had made the long march from clandestine subversion of the Franco regime to membership not only of the European Community but even of NATO, and so the interests of Spain were no longer "complementary" to those of Latin America, as the Spaniards were claiming, but antagonistic: Spain was now, really for the first time in its modern history, part of "the West," as Gonzalez himself would announce quite soon when Spain sent forces to the Gulf War against Iraq in 1991. Secondly, there was nothing Gonzalez would have liked to do more than satisfy Garcia Marquez's constant demands for him to ease Cuba back into the international community of nations; but Gonzalez found Castro's dictatorial practices unacceptable-as well as inconvenient-in the world in which he now moved and was constantly irritated by what he perceived as Castro's incorrigible stubbornness and inability to adjust to the way the world was moving. (Castro, needless to say, was increasingly convinced that Gonzalez was a traitor to international socialism.) Meanwhile Cuba was going through its own dramas. At the end of 1988 a so-called "Committee of One Hundred" had sent a letter to Castro condemning his country's policies on human rights and demanding the release of all political prisoners: "On January 1, 1989 you will have been in power for thirty years without having, up to now, held elections to determine if the Cuban people wish you to continue as President of the Republic, President of the Council of Ministers, President of the Council of State and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces. Following the recent example of Chile, where after fifteen years of dictatorship, the people were able to express their view freely on the country's political future, we request by this letter a plebiscite so that Cubans by free and secret ballot could a.s.sert simply with a yes or a no their agreement or disagreement with your staying in power."44 This had appeared nine months after Garcia Marquez had published his pen-portrait of Fidel Castro, lovable conversationalist and good friend to his friends. It was signed in Paris by a wide array of celebrities and intellectuals, though in essence the Libre Libre group (Juan Goytisolo, Plinio Mendoza and Mario Vargas Llosa) were again at the centre of the action, and again with their mainly French allies. It was their first big push since the Padilla Affair, given added impetus now that communism was tottering in Europe. The American names are not especially impressive, apart from Susan Sontag, nor were the Latin American ones (no Carlos Fuentes, Augusto Roa Bastos, etc.), but this was nevertheless a powerful challenge. group (Juan Goytisolo, Plinio Mendoza and Mario Vargas Llosa) were again at the centre of the action, and again with their mainly French allies. It was their first big push since the Padilla Affair, given added impetus now that communism was tottering in Europe. The American names are not especially impressive, apart from Susan Sontag, nor were the Latin American ones (no Carlos Fuentes, Augusto Roa Bastos, etc.), but this was nevertheless a powerful challenge.

It was in fact the single most serious verbal attack on Castro and Cuba since 1971 and was, indeed, the more telling because it was not based on a single event or a single problem but on Cuba's entire political system. And it was signed by a very large number of influential intellectuals who could not by any stretch of the imagination be called "right-wing." Reagan and Thatcher's virulent anti-communism, backed by the Pope and immeasurably bolstered by Gorbachev's effective surrender, was rapidly changing the international climate and would in due course change the world. Fidel's Cuba would be one of the most serious casualties. And 1989 would be the year of the apocalypse. It was almost unbelievable that whilst all these clouds were gathering, Garcia Marquez was sitting, much of the time in Havana, writing a novel about the last days of another Latin American hero-the only one who could rival Castro-also considered by some historians to have turned into a dictator late in his career.

Disillusioning events in Cuba must have strengthened Garcia Marquez's desire to return to Colombia. At a time when Mario Vargas Llosa was beginning his quixotic campaign for the presidency of Peru, the Cuban government was arresting (on 9 June) and trying General Arnaldo Ochoa, its greatest military hero of the African campaign, that adventure whose coverage had allowed Garcia Marquez to get so close to Fidel, Raul and the revolution. Also on trial were two good friends of Garcia Marquez, Colonel Tony la Guardia, a kind of Cuban James Bond, and his twin brother Patricio. Garcia Marquez was in Cuba at the time teaching at the film school. The defendants were found guilty of smuggling narcotics and thereby betraying the Cuban Revolution and Ochoa, Tony la Guardia and two others were sentenced to be executed on 13 July 1989. Patricio la Guardia was sentenced to thirty years in prison.

Quite near the end of The General in His Labyrinth The General in His Labyrinth Bolivar, lost in the rain and sick of waiting and not knowing why, touches rock bottom and cries in his sleep. The next day he flees one of his worst memories, the execution of General Manuel Piar in Angostura thirteen years before. Piar, a mulatto from Curacao, had consistently resisted the authority of whites, including Bolivar himself, on behalf of blacks and mestizos. Bolivar condemned him to death for insubordination, ignoring the advice of even his closest friends. Then, struggling with tears, he was unable to watch the execution. The narrator comments: "It was the most savage use of power in his life, but the most opportune as well, for with it he consolidated his authority, unified his command, and cleared the road to his glory." Bolivar, lost in the rain and sick of waiting and not knowing why, touches rock bottom and cries in his sleep. The next day he flees one of his worst memories, the execution of General Manuel Piar in Angostura thirteen years before. Piar, a mulatto from Curacao, had consistently resisted the authority of whites, including Bolivar himself, on behalf of blacks and mestizos. Bolivar condemned him to death for insubordination, ignoring the advice of even his closest friends. Then, struggling with tears, he was unable to watch the execution. The narrator comments: "It was the most savage use of power in his life, but the most opportune as well, for with it he consolidated his authority, unified his command, and cleared the road to his glory."45 All those years later, Bolivar looks at his valet Jose Palacios and says, "I would do it again." (Which is what Colonel Marquez was reputed to have said after he killed Medardo Pacheco in Barrancas.) There was no need whatever for Garcia Marquez to place this example of an act of utter ruthlessness carried out for reasons of state at the end of his penultimate chapter, where it becomes, irremediably, the last major drama, the last narrative action of the novel (albeit thirteen years before the end of Bolivar's life and therefore shown in flashback). But he did. And so again, Garcia Marquez's extraordinary ability to antic.i.p.ate major events is quite blood-chilling. Fidel Castro must have read this episode a matter of weeks before partic.i.p.ating in the judgement on Ochoa's fate. Did he remember it as he made his decision? All those years later, Bolivar looks at his valet Jose Palacios and says, "I would do it again." (Which is what Colonel Marquez was reputed to have said after he killed Medardo Pacheco in Barrancas.) There was no need whatever for Garcia Marquez to place this example of an act of utter ruthlessness carried out for reasons of state at the end of his penultimate chapter, where it becomes, irremediably, the last major drama, the last narrative action of the novel (albeit thirteen years before the end of Bolivar's life and therefore shown in flashback). But he did. And so again, Garcia Marquez's extraordinary ability to antic.i.p.ate major events is quite blood-chilling. Fidel Castro must have read this episode a matter of weeks before partic.i.p.ating in the judgement on Ochoa's fate. Did he remember it as he made his decision?46 One of Garcia Marquez's close friends had now executed another of his close friends. (Naturally Castro declared that the decision was not in his hands.) The executions caused Garcia Marquez much heartache and severe political embarra.s.sment. Tony la Guardia's family appealed to him personally on more than one occasion. He gave his word that he would intercede with Fidel; if he did, it was without success.

He left Cuba before the executions and on the day they were carried out he was to be found with his friend Alvaro Castano in Paris, where he met Jessye Norman and French Culture Minister Jack Lang, who was making final preparations for the bicentenary of another revolution which had ended up devouring its children. The following day Garcia Marquez attended the celebration banquet for the 200th anniversary of the storming of the Bastille. He had feared he might have to sit next to Margaret Thatcher ("eyes of Caligula, lips of Marilyn Monroe," according to their host Francois Mitterrand) but was fortunate enough to sit next to the glamorous Ben.a.z.ir Bhutto of Pakistan, while Thatcher herself, who had declared that the French Revolution "foreshadowed the language of communism," appeared, as one British newspaper put it, like a "ghost at the feast."47 The following day Garcia Marquez arrived in Madrid and said he had seen Fidel Castro "last week," adding, lamely, that he had told Fidel he was "not only against the death penalty but against death itself." He said that the execution of four soldiers of the revolution was "a very painful thing, a drama we have all suffered." He said he had "very good information" that the dead men had been tried by a military tribunal and executed for treason, not drug-trafficking. And "treason is punishable by death all over the world." The following day Garcia Marquez arrived in Madrid and said he had seen Fidel Castro "last week," adding, lamely, that he had told Fidel he was "not only against the death penalty but against death itself." He said that the execution of four soldiers of the revolution was "a very painful thing, a drama we have all suffered." He said he had "very good information" that the dead men had been tried by a military tribunal and executed for treason, not drug-trafficking. And "treason is punishable by death all over the world."48 A return to Colombia was part of his ambitious new strategy-was he resigned or, as the French say, retreating the better to leap forward?-but Colombia was now entering a new nightmare period perhaps unparalleled in all its previous experience. On 18 August 1989, Luis Carlos Galan, now the official Liberal candidate and perhaps the most charismatic Colombian politician since Gaitan, met the same fate as his predecessor when he was a.s.sa.s.sinated at a political rally on the outskirts of Bogota by hit men acting for Pablo Escobar. Even Colombia, so used to horror, reacted with stupefaction and widespread despair.49 Once again, Garcia Marquez sent no message to the widow Gloria Pachon, who had been the first journalist to interview him on his return to Colombia in 1966, but he declared the following day that the country "should support President Barco." He then appealed publicly to the drug-traffickers "not to turn Colombia into an abominable country where not even they, their children or their grandchildren will be able to live." Once again, Garcia Marquez sent no message to the widow Gloria Pachon, who had been the first journalist to interview him on his return to Colombia in 1966, but he declared the following day that the country "should support President Barco." He then appealed publicly to the drug-traffickers "not to turn Colombia into an abominable country where not even they, their children or their grandchildren will be able to live."50 Politically, this had been an extraordinary year. And yet the biggest event of all was about to take place: the fall, on 9 November, of the Berlin Wall. It was possible, as Margaret Thatcher had intimated, and as Garcia Marquez himself had also divined, that two hundred years of Western history had come to an end. Now the demise of the USSR and of communism itself could not be far behind. In December Garcia Marquez, who, for sure, was not pa.s.sing on the real content of his conversations with Castro, confided to the world that "Fidel fears that the USSR will become infected by capitalism; and that the Third World will be abandoned."51 He said that the USSR was still desperately needed as a counterweight to the USA and that if it withdrew its financial support from Cuba-for this was the great spectre confronting the revolution-it would be "like a second blockade." He acknowledged that Cuba needed profound changes, some of which had been well under way long before He said that the USSR was still desperately needed as a counterweight to the USA and that if it withdrew its financial support from Cuba-for this was the great spectre confronting the revolution-it would be "like a second blockade." He acknowledged that Cuba needed profound changes, some of which had been well under way long before perestroika. perestroika. But Cuba's enemies were continuing to oppose its reinsertion into "its natural world"-Latin America-because people would see it as a triumph for Fidel Castro. It was fortunate, Garcia Marquez must have thought, that Felipe Gonzalez and his PSOE government had been re-elected in Spain on 29 October, one of the few pieces of good news in an otherwise dismaying panorama. But Cuba's enemies were continuing to oppose its reinsertion into "its natural world"-Latin America-because people would see it as a triumph for Fidel Castro. It was fortunate, Garcia Marquez must have thought, that Felipe Gonzalez and his PSOE government had been re-elected in Spain on 29 October, one of the few pieces of good news in an otherwise dismaying panorama.

From Garcia Marquez's perspective, one entire plank of progressive thinking and political action in the world was on the way to disappearance. What would follow was an unprecedented period of economic and social change; but whereas in the past great moments of change, however disorienting, were accompanied by explanatory political and social ideologies, now everything was driven by economic change itself and the a.s.sociated ideology of globalization. And simultaneously it might seem as if all meaning was being sucked out of existence by technological and biological advances. Hence the desperate return to fundamentalist religion, born out of anxiety, fear or even despair. Some of this he thought but very little would he say. Whatever happened out in the material world, Garcia Marquez would set about finding another way to be optimistic. It was how he had responded to all but the darkest moments; now he saw it as his duty to the planet.

23.

Back to Macondo?

News of a Historic Catastrophe 19901996 NINETEEN EIGHTY-NINE had been the most terrible year in Colombia's recent history. In March Ernesto Samper, a future president, had received multiple bullet wounds in an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt at the El Dorado Airport and barely survived. In May paramilitaries attempted to blow up Miguel Maza Marquez, head of the DAS or secret police, who also miraculously survived. In August a leading presidential candidate, Luis Carlos Galan of the Liberal Party, was a.s.sa.s.sinated in full public view. In September the offices of had been the most terrible year in Colombia's recent history. In March Ernesto Samper, a future president, had received multiple bullet wounds in an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt at the El Dorado Airport and barely survived. In May paramilitaries attempted to blow up Miguel Maza Marquez, head of the DAS or secret police, who also miraculously survived. In August a leading presidential candidate, Luis Carlos Galan of the Liberal Party, was a.s.sa.s.sinated in full public view. In September the offices of El Espectador El Espectador were devastated by another attack and the Hilton Hotel in Cartagena was bombed. The life of Galan's replacement, Cesar Gaviria, a party technocrat, had been threatened by the drug-traffickers as soon as he was nominated. were devastated by another attack and the Hilton Hotel in Cartagena was bombed. The life of Galan's replacement, Cesar Gaviria, a party technocrat, had been threatened by the drug-traffickers as soon as he was nominated.1 In one attempt to kill him, in November, a civilian plane belonging to the national airline Avianca was bombed, with 107 dead, though Gaviria was not on board. In December another huge bomb was detonated in front of the DAS building in Bogota, killing dozens of pa.s.sers-by. And there were many other such episodes. All of this was new. Certainly there were no more people dying now than at the height of the In one attempt to kill him, in November, a civilian plane belonging to the national airline Avianca was bombed, with 107 dead, though Gaviria was not on board. In December another huge bomb was detonated in front of the DAS building in Bogota, killing dozens of pa.s.sers-by. And there were many other such episodes. All of this was new. Certainly there were no more people dying now than at the height of the Violencia Violencia in the 1950s but the vast majority of those had been anonymous deaths in the rural areas; indeed, the complaint that many had previously made about the Colombian political system was that almost anyone could be murdered except the candidates of the two traditional parties-unless (as was the case with both Gaitan and Galan) those candidates were rocking the consensual boat in which each party sailed alternately to comfortable prearranged victories in smooth political waters. in the 1950s but the vast majority of those had been anonymous deaths in the rural areas; indeed, the complaint that many had previously made about the Colombian political system was that almost anyone could be murdered except the candidates of the two traditional parties-unless (as was the case with both Gaitan and Galan) those candidates were rocking the consensual boat in which each party sailed alternately to comfortable prearranged victories in smooth political waters.

The difference, of course, was drugs. The traditional political parties were no longer entirely in control because a significant proportion of the national resources was no longer theirs to distribute in whatever ways would maintain the "stability" of their status quo. Other interests were now at stake. So now there were new targets. On 3 November Excelsior Excelsior reported Garcia Marquez as saying that the so-called "war against drugs" (the increasingly popular U.S. phrase) was "doomed to failure" as currently conceived. reported Garcia Marquez as saying that the so-called "war against drugs" (the increasingly popular U.S. phrase) was "doomed to failure" as currently conceived.2 He began to urge the need for renewed talks between government, guerrillas and drug-traffickers. Otherwise, he said, Colombia would end up as a victim of the United States's own imperialist designs for the rest of the continent by fighting a proxy war on its behalf. He began to urge the need for renewed talks between government, guerrillas and drug-traffickers. Otherwise, he said, Colombia would end up as a victim of the United States's own imperialist designs for the rest of the continent by fighting a proxy war on its behalf.

Just six weeks later everyone could see, who wished to do so, that once again Garcia Marquez had shown that he knew his American hemisphere. In late December the United States under President George H. W. Bush, emboldened rather than relieved by the fall of the Berlin Wall, invaded Panama, killing hundreds of innocent civilians, and kidnapped a sitting Latin American president-their own creation, Antonio Noriega-for the first time in history. Sure he was a dictator, and a gangster, and a drug-runner, a real son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h (all of these were pretexts for the invasion); but he had been their son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h until just a few months before. Thus the USA returned to the policy of foreign invasions in precisely the year in which the Soviets acknowledged that their own great invasion, of Afghanistan, had been a mistake. Garcia Marquez condemned the Panamanian intervention in Cuba's Granma Granma (21 December), despite his detestation of Noriega, but (21 December), despite his detestation of Noriega, but Granma Granma was not a publication the U.S. authorities were known to take much notice of. Much new writing was on the wall, for sure; much old writing also. was not a publication the U.S. authorities were known to take much notice of. Much new writing was on the wall, for sure; much old writing also.

In 1990 Colombia went on as it had in 1989. A group of "Notables," leading public figures, apparently with support from President Barco, published an open letter proposing "less rigorous" punishment of drug-traffickers if they would bring the campaign of violence to an end. Leading elements of the Medellin cartel offered to halt the carnage and surrender cocaine-refining facilities in exchange for government guarantees. Not all the drug-traffickers went along with this proposal, however, and it soon broke down. A second presidential candidate, Bernardo Jaramillo, of the Union Patriotica (ex-Colombian Revolutionary Armed Forces, or FARC), was a.s.sa.s.sinated by the Medellin cartel in late March. (The FARC is the oldest guerrilla organization, whose founders originated from the left of the Liberal Party during the later phases of the Violencia Violencia and then founded the FARC as the armed wing of the Communist Party in the 1960s; it is also the guerrilla organisation with the deepest roots in the peasantry, in a country reputed to have, at the start of the twenty-first century, the largest number of displaced peasants in the world. When it attempted to take the electoral road in the 1980s, the FARC lost some 2,500 candidates and officials murdered by paramilitary d