United Fruit: A Company Gone Bananas-Part III
I suppose that Jacobo Arbenz’ first and greatest mistake was to have ascended to the presidency in the post-WWII Cold War era; a time when many Americans were convinced that the communist threat in the 50's required an entirely different response than what the country had summoned for the fascist threat in the 30's. Many political leaders—at all cost — wanted to avoid repeating Neville Chamberlain’s “peace for our time” appeasement debacle. That never-again sentiment pushed President Eisenhower toward institutionalizing his Falling Domino Principal, which called for the west to take pre-emptive steps to prevent foreign governments from ever entering the Soviet’s sphere of influence.
Unfortunately for Guatemala, it is from within that context of hypersensitivity to socialist-tinted enterprises that President Arbenz issued Decree 900, which forced the sale of over 200,000 acres of privately owned farmland and redistributed the plots to peasant farmers. Back in the States, President Arbenz’ land deal would have set off alarms all throughout the Federal Government, even in the absence of United Fruit’s built-in lobbying structure. The leverage that the company’s board held over the nation’s political leaders merely inject steroids into a reaction that was already bound to be an overreaction. Within United Fruit’s own leadership, Decree 900 created the impetus to remove the last gloves from an octopus that had always operated with very few gloves.
Edward Louise James Bernays
For years Edward Bernays, an Austrian born public relations expert, had warned United Fruit’s upper management of the threat to its holdings presented by the spread of communism in Central America. He had personally lobbied Sam Zemurray for permission to unleash a red-scare campaign in the American press that would paint Guatemala as a political appendage of the Soviet government. If the theory could be proven, he preached, the United States would have to move against a government managed by Reds, especially one that lies just south of Mexico.
By April of 1952, with some of his prime banana lands now in the hands of the Guatemalan government, Sam became convinced that his PR guy was on to something, and that if he didn’t move immediately to protect his interest, similar land grabs would occur throughout the region. So Sam took the leash off of Mr. Bernays and Mr. Bernays pounced on Guatemala like a German shepherd with rabies and a grudge.
Edward Bernays knew everyone, senators, and editors, media magnates and principals at the CIA. With his unique ability to promulgate and control a narrative, in no time at all he managed to turn a country with a population of 3,000,000— 4,000 of whom were registered members of the Communist party — into a country of 3,000,000 — 3,000,000 of whom were ardent Stalinists intent on destroying capitalism. And it didn’t hurt the cause that at the time that Mr. Bernays was cooking up his commie stew the U.S ambassador to Guatemala was John E. Peurifoy, the type of guy who checked his underwear drawer for Reds before he went to bed at night. Throw into the mix the Dulles brothers, Allen as head of the CIA and John Foster as Secretary of State, both of whom in the 20’s and 30’s had represented United Fruit in court, and you can easily imagine how a little thing like 208,842 vacant acres could cause a war.
The CIA accepted wholeheartedly the truthfulness of Bernay’s Guatemala-is-a-Soviet-satellite pitch. Instinctively, they began rummaging through their Rolodex of possible heroes to lead the “liberation” of Guatemala, a demanding process given the requirements:
By April of 1952, with some of his prime banana lands now in the hands of the Guatemalan government, Sam became convinced that his PR guy was on to something, and that if he didn’t move immediately to protect his interest, similar land grabs would occur throughout the region. So Sam took the leash off of Mr. Bernays and Mr. Bernays pounced on Guatemala like a German shepherd with rabies and a grudge.
Edward Bernays knew everyone, senators, and editors, media magnates and principals at the CIA. With his unique ability to promulgate and control a narrative, in no time at all he managed to turn a country with a population of 3,000,000— 4,000 of whom were registered members of the Communist party — into a country of 3,000,000 — 3,000,000 of whom were ardent Stalinists intent on destroying capitalism. And it didn’t hurt the cause that at the time that Mr. Bernays was cooking up his commie stew the U.S ambassador to Guatemala was John E. Peurifoy, the type of guy who checked his underwear drawer for Reds before he went to bed at night. Throw into the mix the Dulles brothers, Allen as head of the CIA and John Foster as Secretary of State, both of whom in the 20’s and 30’s had represented United Fruit in court, and you can easily imagine how a little thing like 208,842 vacant acres could cause a war.
The CIA accepted wholeheartedly the truthfulness of Bernay’s Guatemala-is-a-Soviet-satellite pitch. Instinctively, they began rummaging through their Rolodex of possible heroes to lead the “liberation” of Guatemala, a demanding process given the requirements:
- The candidate must be anti-communist.
- The candidate must be pliable.
Carlos Castillo Armas
When the top two picks didn’t pan out — the first was a tad bit too violent and the second was dying — they eventually settled on Carlos Castillo Armas, an exiled military commander who had once pulled off a dramatic prison escape. Having selected the people’s champion, all the CIA needed to do to carry off the coup was impose a naval blockade (completed May 24, 1954,) send a few CIA planes over the capital to strafe government buildings while dropping pro-Armas leaflets, and lastly, to introduce General Armas to his men. And by “his” men, I mean a CIA-selected composite of mercenaries from the U.S. and other neighboring countries, peppered here and there with a few Guatemalan exiles. In short, the soldiers who waited outside the Honduran/Guatemalan border were not living out some revolutionary ideal. They were earning a paycheck.
On June 18, 1954, five days after meeting their leader, the little army invaded Guatemala.
For a few days the outcome seemed uncertain, but in reality, President Arbenz never stood a chance. United Fruit controlled the phone lines, the airwaves, the railways and the ports; and it used all of those tools to make sure that President Jacobo Arbenz felt isolated and hopeless. Not only did they cut him off from the outside world, more importantly, they cut him off from his own people. The isolation was so complete and the rumors so exaggerated that at 9:15 PM on June 27, 1954, President Jacobo Arbenz addressed his countrymen by radio for the last time, stating:
“I have made a sad and cruel judgment. After reflecting with a clear revolutionary conscience, I have made a decision that is of great importance for our country in the hope of containing this aggression and bringing peace back to Guatemala. I have decided to step down.”
On July 3, 1954, General Armas, escorted by Ambassador Peurifoy, touched down in Guatemala City amidst a throng of supporters eager to meet their new President. Once in power, he reversed Decree 900, turning the peasants out of the land they had recently inherited and restoring the property rights of the previous landowners. But to the detriment of the next four decades of Guatemalan history, he didn’t stop there. In addition, he banned labor unions, stripped illiterate citizens of the right to vote and started combing the cities and countryside for communist sympathizers he could throw in jail. Those who opposed him fled for the hills, eventually organizing themselves into the guerrilla force which would, under different names, continue to wage war against each successive military government until a peace accord was finally reached in December of 1996.
On June 18, 1954, five days after meeting their leader, the little army invaded Guatemala.
For a few days the outcome seemed uncertain, but in reality, President Arbenz never stood a chance. United Fruit controlled the phone lines, the airwaves, the railways and the ports; and it used all of those tools to make sure that President Jacobo Arbenz felt isolated and hopeless. Not only did they cut him off from the outside world, more importantly, they cut him off from his own people. The isolation was so complete and the rumors so exaggerated that at 9:15 PM on June 27, 1954, President Jacobo Arbenz addressed his countrymen by radio for the last time, stating:
“I have made a sad and cruel judgment. After reflecting with a clear revolutionary conscience, I have made a decision that is of great importance for our country in the hope of containing this aggression and bringing peace back to Guatemala. I have decided to step down.”
On July 3, 1954, General Armas, escorted by Ambassador Peurifoy, touched down in Guatemala City amidst a throng of supporters eager to meet their new President. Once in power, he reversed Decree 900, turning the peasants out of the land they had recently inherited and restoring the property rights of the previous landowners. But to the detriment of the next four decades of Guatemalan history, he didn’t stop there. In addition, he banned labor unions, stripped illiterate citizens of the right to vote and started combing the cities and countryside for communist sympathizers he could throw in jail. Those who opposed him fled for the hills, eventually organizing themselves into the guerrilla force which would, under different names, continue to wage war against each successive military government until a peace accord was finally reached in December of 1996.
On July 26, 2957 General Armas was assassinated by a leftist sympathizer.
May of 1982, Slacuin Guatemala, 20 more casualties
The death toll from the decades-long struggle easily exceeded 200,000, but unfortunately, that number only begins to describe the true cost of the war. Wars don’t just kill, they wound: both physically and psychologically. War tears up families, tears up economies, tears up societies. The true cost of war is impossible to calculate.
Yet despite the cost, war is often the only tool we have to confront and stop evil. Every nation must ask itself, before it engages in combat, is the carnage worth it? Will victory justify the misery we inflict on others and ourselves? Where Guatemala is concerned, that question seems all too easy to answer.
Under Arbenz’ tenure, Guatemala had a small, ineffective communist movement. There were a few very low-level politicians who were allied with the party, but not a single Red within cannon shot of even a Cabinet-level position. I’d venture to say that in 1954 you could have driven from Mexico to the southern tip of Chile and found half a dozen countries where communists had as great or greater influence over the government than their Guatemalan comrades. So why did we pick a fight in Guatemala? A fight that led to the deaths of 200,000 and the disappearance of 45,000 more.
A veteran correspondent for Time magazine answered that question when in an off-the-record statement he claimed that “If the United Fruit Company had not existed there would have been no U.S. pressure or intervention. The U.S. wouldn’t have cared. With no threats to U.S. property, there would have been no problems.”
When Sam Zemurray made his move against Arbenz’ land grab, he sent a boulder rolling down a very steep hill, but with no way to control its direction, no braking mechanism and nothing to prevent it from crushing everything in its path. But the boulder may have remained stationary had Sam’s accountants included the cost of a civil war in their calculations of net income. Had someone been able to capture the true cost of a United Fruit bribe for example — not just the amount of cash handed to the guy at the tax commission — but the dollar amount all parties lose when another individual goes corrupt, it would have certainly altered the company’s behavior. Likewise, had United Fruit been forced to incorporate into its statement of cash flows the cost of every Guatemalan who learned to resent El Pulpo’s money and influence — the company’s reserves would have shrunk considerably. Had someone shown Sam “The Banana Man” that his behavior was bankrupting his banana company, he would have steered the company ship away from disaster.
Yet despite the cost, war is often the only tool we have to confront and stop evil. Every nation must ask itself, before it engages in combat, is the carnage worth it? Will victory justify the misery we inflict on others and ourselves? Where Guatemala is concerned, that question seems all too easy to answer.
Under Arbenz’ tenure, Guatemala had a small, ineffective communist movement. There were a few very low-level politicians who were allied with the party, but not a single Red within cannon shot of even a Cabinet-level position. I’d venture to say that in 1954 you could have driven from Mexico to the southern tip of Chile and found half a dozen countries where communists had as great or greater influence over the government than their Guatemalan comrades. So why did we pick a fight in Guatemala? A fight that led to the deaths of 200,000 and the disappearance of 45,000 more.
A veteran correspondent for Time magazine answered that question when in an off-the-record statement he claimed that “If the United Fruit Company had not existed there would have been no U.S. pressure or intervention. The U.S. wouldn’t have cared. With no threats to U.S. property, there would have been no problems.”
When Sam Zemurray made his move against Arbenz’ land grab, he sent a boulder rolling down a very steep hill, but with no way to control its direction, no braking mechanism and nothing to prevent it from crushing everything in its path. But the boulder may have remained stationary had Sam’s accountants included the cost of a civil war in their calculations of net income. Had someone been able to capture the true cost of a United Fruit bribe for example — not just the amount of cash handed to the guy at the tax commission — but the dollar amount all parties lose when another individual goes corrupt, it would have certainly altered the company’s behavior. Likewise, had United Fruit been forced to incorporate into its statement of cash flows the cost of every Guatemalan who learned to resent El Pulpo’s money and influence — the company’s reserves would have shrunk considerably. Had someone shown Sam “The Banana Man” that his behavior was bankrupting his banana company, he would have steered the company ship away from disaster.
Maria Luisa Col stands with a portrait of her husband Otto who was kidnapped by the military in 1983. Otto is still missing.
In 1958, United Fruit’s excesses led the Justice Department to launch and successfully prosecute a monopoly case against the company, obligating the conglomerate to turn over a chunk of its market share to local businesses. In a separate court case, the company was forced to divest itself of its railroad business. In time, the anti-United sentiment grew to such a degree that in less than two decades from the day it toppled Guatemala’s President, United Fruit did not hold title to a solitary acre of Guatemalan farmland.
Today Guatemala’s Truth Commission has published 80 million pages of police documents in hopes that families of the disappeared will use them to locate their loved ones.
In 1968, United Fruit’s remaining assets were purchased by the famed investor Eli Black, who combined United with his own company, AMK, and formed the enterprise, United Brands. But the venture was dealt a death blow by hurricanes that, in 1974, wiped out the entire Honduran crop. The natural disaster colluded with United Fruit’s prior debt obligations to obliterate all of Eli’s once $2 billion empire. As his company’s value entered the basement, Eli grew decisive and on February 3, 1975 he tried to follow the downward trajectory of his company’s profits by leaping through the window of his corner office on the 44th floor of the Pan Am building in New York— but Eli was held up at the first floor.
December 21, 2017, the residents of Santa Avelina bury the remains of 172 individuals exhumed from mass graves who died between 1978 and 1986. Among the dead were 14 newborns, 66 toddlers and 28 children.
