A painted history 

A few days ago I discovered this painting, right above the armchair where I enjoy the early morning hours in peace every day, drinking some hot coffee, smoking my peace pipe, and where I write as usual. But this often still in the dark, so I had never paid attention to this picture.

Immediately my attention was caught and I saw that this painting had something to do with the history of Guatemala. I was a bit surprised to find it in this middle-class house, with a landlord whose father had served as a high officer in the Guatemalan army, as also his brother, and he himself had given me a very solid, even rather conservative impression. But I know he is not entirely so, because in the meantime I have gotten to know him a little better, after having lived here for so many months already.

Moreover, it is not surprising that critical paintings or illustrations are often found in the homes of the "middle class" or even "upper class" and not in those of the "poor" and less formally educated. Even rebels and revolutionaries often thrive more in circles that take advantage of formal and "high" education.

Shortly thereafter, Vivian unexpectedly asked me about this painting, if I knew what this painting was about? Yes, I had been able to make sense of the scene, but of course I didn't know anything in detail.

"Gloriosa Victoria" mural by Mexican painter Diego Rivera (among others), 1954 (photo Wikipedia)

Rivera painted this mural "Gloriosa Victoria" in 1954, shortly after US forces intervened in Guatemala on behalf of the US State Department and the CIA, in collusion with local forces, to quickly end the "communist" campaign for a thorough land reform with a military coup, thus securing US interests, especially those of the then dominant United Fruit Company (UFCO, the Frutera, later renamed Dole).

This was the end of a decade of awakening in Guatemala (1944-54) that had culminated in the rule of Jacobo Árbenz Guzmán, the son of a Swiss immigrant, Hans Jakob Arbenz Gröbli, and a Guatemalan woman, Octavia Guzmán Caballeros. Árbenz, a former army officer and defense minister of Guatemala (1944-51) and in no way suspected of communism, was succeeded by dictator Carlos Castillo Armas, in order to prevent any renewal and containment of free enterprise and flow of capital.

Castillo Armas reversed all reforms and restricted the rights of indigenous people, peasants and workers, silenced unwanted critics and secured the government with terror, corruption and money from those whose interests he was serving. So nothing new. In this way he ensured that Guatemala could continue to be disparagingly called the "Banana Republic", although the country has much more to offer than bananas and corruption, I assure you!

At the same time, an "American" senator by the name of Joseph McCarthy was creating a stirring anti-communist atmosphere in the U.S., and Europe was at the beginning of a long war, called the Cold War ("capitalism against communism"). Thus, if one were to look beyond the frame of Rivera's painting, one might discover that the events in Guatemala could also be seen in a larger context; that the mechanisms of a victorious capitalism and globalization may have only replaced hot wars (within their own territory), and that international organizations continue to have their fingers in the pie by following old rules and thus maintaining "successful" traditions.

Diego Rivera, his collaborators Rina Lazo and Teresa Ordiales, even his wife Frida Kahlo could not have known all this in 1954.

Description: This mural detail shows US "foreign minister" John Foster Dulles shaking hands with the submissive Colonel Carlos Castillo Armas. John Dulles is surrounded by his brother (left), Allen Dulles, legal representative of the United Fruit Company and first director of the CIA, and John Peurifoy, the U.S. Ambassador, while his left hand holds the bomb with the smiling face of U.S. President Dwight Eisenhower. To the left, outside this detail, indigenous slaves load the ships of "la Frutera" with bananas and plantains, and the victims of this coup below and to the right of the painting. Above all, Archbishop Mariano Rossell y Arellano, who gives his blessing to the events. (Sources: Wikipedia, Diego-Rivera.net)

Thanks to the lackey Castillo Armas, who was soon elected president of Guatemala by "free" vote (99.9%), through a plebiscite, it was assured that Guatemala would remain a free country - better said freed from the demands of the poor population - and would continue to serve, no longer the Spanish conquerors, but their descendants, the international businessmen, who "committed and took responsibility to ensure a future of prosperity".

But even this could not prevent a great discontent from growing in this fertile soil, which ignited into an "armed conflict", which some - not quite appropriately - still consider Guatemala's Civil War.

This "armed conflict" can be described statistically as follows: more than 200'000 dead, countless disappeared and raped, and more than a million displaced people who fled mainly to Mexico, where they could find refuge. And the overwhelming majority of the victims were Mayan, from rural areas (another painted story). A 36-year war (1960-96) that ended with the Peace Accords, which, however, have not yet been fully implemented. Perhaps because Peace Accords in Guatemala can only work if they also include the USA and the rest of the world - including Europe and Switzerland.

As I let my eyes wander over the frame of this painting, questions about property rights and land rights came up, and I wondered whether justice can be achieved with just property rights alone, or whether it would be beneficial to think about the laws of nature, even if they are somewhat diffuse. When I look at the sea with its inhabitants, I always think about what it would be like if the sea were filled with aquariums that secured the place of each fish and its rights. Wouldn't the sea then be more filled, despite overfished waters? Shoals of fish would no longer dance, but infrastructures and a more just order would determine life under water. Sharks would probably have an easier time of it; they would no longer have to settle for full stomachs at unclear meal times, but could secure their own fishing rights and overeat at will, with clean legal protection. That way, freedom under water would probably be a bit more orderly.

But such an image hardly helps to understand our world better, because this image has nothing to do with us humans, our shackle-free thinking, and our life in prosperity thanks to progress. But to each his own rhyme, as always.

PS2: This is the first text that was written as part of a project. Namely, the project "The history of Guatemala and the relations and/or links between Switzerland and Guatemala", which Vivian Irene Martinez Mejia and Jorge Georg Walter Messmer have carried in our hearts and minds for a long time. It remains to be seen if anything will come of it. The conditions for it are good, although it is hardly a scientific project in the present sense and therefore unlikely to receive a Nobel Prize in History - since it is not a real science anyway - but it could, however, make history as the contribution of two idealistic realists, on intercultural exchange and bilateral cooperation. Simply because even a story, however small, can write life, not just life, history.

Side note: The writer has had time to deal with Guatemalan life and its history since 1999. And that of Switzerland even a little more. The adventure continues. His favorite book on the subject is the story that the young missionary told in "El Silencio del Gallo" (The Silence of the Rooster) which Carlos Santos had put in writing. A very moving book, which does not look for culprits, but is very interested in the suffering of the people, who again and again become victims of land theft, although, of course, this should never be named in such a legal way, because it can never be completely proven, because the laws are not made by the violated people.

Finding the culprits is not so easy, and even the questions of the peace agreements ("Acuerdos de Paz"), must ultimately be answered at the international level. But it is also always the case that laws are only the best of all bad solutions. We are all in this quagmire, and finding the way out is a great adventure, indeed an almost quixotic effort. But in my opinion, it is not completely impossible.

Music "Perdóneme tío juan" - Los guaraguao
A song in the Venezuelan context that could be applied to any Latin American country.

Video resources: There are lots of videos in Spanish available that cover this issue. However there are few in English: A brief summary of what happened: "The 1954 U.S. Coup In Guatemala" (Telesur)