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In Different Packages. Welding those ties into something really strong will take a staggering amount of work and imagination. It means selling the idea of constitutional government, for example, to men like a leader in the Dominican Republic who gives this rationale of Latin American politics: "There are only three ways to handle people in Latin America: kill them, jail them or have drinks with them. I prefer the latter, but I am not averse to either of the former if it cannot be avoided." It means selling tax reforms to the wealthy, deeply entrenched oligarchs like the Brazilian industrialist who told a U.S. visitor: "You know, Brazil's growth is based in part on not paying taxes. If we paid, the government would spend it on foolishness like the army. Why do you keep talking about taxes? Taxation is an Anglo-Saxon fetish." Most important of all, it means listening to—and heeding —complaints like this from an Argentinean lawyer: "The U.S. projects one specific policy for the whole of Latin America. What works well in Mexico cannot possibly work effectively in Bolivia. Conditions are basically different. All this has led to a dwindling of U.S. prestige—a tragic fact when you consider the opportunities open to the U.S."
That criticism is all too valid. From Teddy Roosevelt's big-stick diplomacy to Franklin Roosevelt's genial Good Neighbor policy to John Kennedy's ambitious but disappointing Alianza para el Progreso, the U.S. has long tended to treat Latin America like an entity. In fact, the area never has been and never will be a package deal.
Pragmatist Mann seems to understand this, to realize that Latin America is many lands requiring many approaches. Says he: "Cultures, conditions and problems vary from country to country, and exact conformity is neither practical nor desirable." Each of Latin America's 20 sovereign nations (all but one of them nonCommunist) is enmeshed in its own problems, and each offers the U.S. a separate—and by no means equal—foreign policy challenge:
> Panama has been the Latin American crisis spot so far in 1964. Diplomatic relations with the U.S. were broken after riots ostensibly caused by a dispute over how Panamanian and U.S. flags should be flown in the U.S.-controlled Canal Zone. But the dispute goes much deeper than that, stems from burgeoning Panamanian nationalism and long-held resentment about the 1903 treaty that gave the U.S. rights "in perpetuity" over the canal. Panama's President Roberto Chiari insists now that the U.S. must promise to renegotiate the treaty. Tom Mann, who rushed to Panama himself right after the riots, along with then-Army Secretary Cyrus Vance, says the U.S. will be happy to discuss the situation, but that it will accept no "preconditions" to the meeting—such as a promise to change the treaty. The crisis is a long way from over, even though a committee of the Organization of American States last week thought it was nearing a temporary solution. Ironically, the current mess might have been eased or delayed had there been a U.S. ambassador in Panama. There was none—nor is there yet. No replacement has been sent for able Ambassador Joseph Farland, who left last August in disgust at Washington policies on foreign aid.