REVOLUTIONS

Evening Star, Issue 21736, 2 June 1934, Page 19

REVOLUTIONS

THE HATCHING GROUND Lowell Thomas, in the New York ‘ Herald-Tribune,’ writes : New Yorkers realised the other day with considerable amusement that during the last couple of years a revolution was brewing right under their noses. Only a few weeks ago it was published as news that the gentleman who is now President of Cuba had made his headquarters at a Broadway hotel while w r orking for the overthrow of Machado.

It should not have been nows to anybody. The anti-Machado junta in New York was quite openly issuing its manifestoes from one hotel or another. Some of its activities were not quite so open. But, at any rate, its leaders made no attempt to conceal their whereabouts, and were constantly bombarding the newspapers with statements of a more or less vehement nature about the Machado regime. Actually some revolutionary junta or other from the Latin American countries is always at work here. Cubans, Venezuelans, Nicaraguans, Hondurans, Peruvians, Chileans—the leaders of those who are “ agin the Government ” all como here for just one reason. It is the most cogent of all reasons—money. This does not mean that the fighting expeditions start from New York. For uprising in Central America the principal port of embarkation is New Orleans. The actual machinery of the Cuban insurrections is always assembled at Miami and other places in Florida, which you can readily understand. But the wherewith is collected on Manhattan Island, and there you will find the big shots. So far as I can gather, all the Cuban leaders are intimates, no matter how violently they differ politically. When they communicate or talk with each other they all use the familiar “thou ”

I asked one of my informants how it was that so many of tho Cuban exiles contrived to live in comfort at the best hotels. “They are all either rich or well-to-do-men,” was the explanation.

“ But aren’t their estates confiscated when they are exiled?”

.“Lord bless you, no!” bo replied. “ You see, there’s an unwritten gentlemen’s agreement in Cuba. For all thev said against Machado, he never had any of the real leaders among his enemies killed; neither did he touch their property. The fellows who were murdered by the Porra were small fry —student agitators, Reds, and so forth.. It is generally understood among Cuban politicians that the man who is in to-day may be out to-morrow. When Machado found it necessary to arrest a prominent enemy, he kept'him in prison for a few days, then let him out, and gave him forty-eight hours to leave the country. “ Consider, for instance, the abortive Menocalist Revolution of August, 1931. As you may remember, on that occasion both General Menocal and Colonel Mendieta were captured at sea by the Machadist forces. They were brought to Havana on a gunboat and treated with the utmost consideration. Every courtesy was extended to them, and by President Machado’s orders they were entertained- at luncheon as distinguished -guests. It was ever so gentlemanly and polite. “ After they had been brought to Havana they were firmly, but always with the utmost courtesy, persuaded of the superior advantages of the cli-, mate of the United States. And that' was that. Not only were they unharmed, but not a dollar was taken away from them.

“ Machado himself would have been treated in the same way when his turn came but for the. fact that the revolution got beyond the control of the leaders.”

UPSETTING A POPULAR LEGEND

Taking it by and large, the technique of the Cuban revolutionists is pretty much the same as that of all others. 1 am sorry to have to upset a popular legend. The conspirators do not hatch their schemes in dark, smokefilled rooms. Oh, there are plenty of small fry who do; in tho Spanish-speak-ing districts of Harlem and Chelsea and under the Manhattan end of the Brooklyn Bridge there are societies which practise all the mystic rites of E. Phillips Oppenheim plotters. They have passwords and oaths and all the glamorous hocus-pocus—that is, it is glamorous until you see it and them. The same is true of the Venezuelan, Nicaraguan, and other intriguers. But all these fervent and desperate plotters in back rooms don’t count. A few of them come into the picture, but only when they are used more or less as messengers by the Big Shots. The man who makes a revolution is the one who can get the confidence—and money—of a New York financier. For although the distinguished exiles may have enough to live comfortably at a swanky hotel, they prefer to let the gringos pay for the rebellion. Once upon a time most of the revolutions throughout tho world were organised and financed in London. The hospitality and latitude of tho British laws made the Soho district a conspirator’s paradise. The Englishman’s tolerance went so far that he would not suffer the extradition of even a murderer refugee if it could be proved that the murder he had committed was political. Hence there was an unwritten, unspoken agreement between the London police and all “direct actionists,” whether Nihilist or Anarchist. Provided they threw no bombs and committed no murders on British soil, and provided they hatched no plot against the British Raj, they were left alone. The conspiracy scene was shifted to New York for the simple reason that money is easier to get tbgre. Another factor is that of communications. Not so many years ago South and Central America were more accessible from London than from New York. The contrast to-day is conspicuous. Thus the New York junta and the Florida sub-junta, if I may so call it, were never at a loss' for means of contact with the conspirators on the ground in Cuba.

But kings of finance are not the only New York magnificos who contribute to the revolutionary cause. Manufacturers of arms and ammunitions are also invited into the fold. But they usbally confine themselves to extending credit. For example, you may remember the busted “ putsch ” led by Carlos Hevia last year. A scow full of munitions of war put out from Atlantic City, of all places,- and was promptly overhauled by a coastguard destroyer and brought back in a gale—of laughter. No harm was done. The members of the “putsch” were not chastised, but just firmly told that they mustn’t. Those munitions of war had been obtained “ on the cuff.” REVOLUTIONARY WEATHER PROPHET. The favourite meeting ground for all. factions is an exceedingly interesting restaurant. It is not generally known and carries no big illuminated sign outside. There is nothing particularly secret about it, but you will not find its number in the -telephone

book—that is, not as a restaurant. The place is on the second floor of a building in the Forties. The cooking is impeccable and the liquors reliable. The proprietor, who is also the chef, is a fascinating character. Ho was born in Africa, but is a full-blooded white Frenchman. He served three years in Africa with the famous Zouaves. Though he is more than sixjy years old, and it has been a long time since he packed a ride, you could spot him anywhere as an ex-soldier, and of a crack regiment at that. A curved nose and heavily-lidded eyes, with a sardonic expression, give him a hawklike appearance, His vocabulary is not less picturesque than his exterior. He can talk in four languages with all the idiom of Rabelais. His establishment is not reserved for those of any particular nation. It is the haunt of adventurers and wanderers from all parts >of the globe. There you will find Venezuelans, Italians, Swedes, Danes, Russians. Under his eyes passes a panorama of plots and intrigues. He listens and observes with great glee, but never takes part in the coniplottings. And don’t try to hang up a cheque on him on the presumption that within a few months you may be minister of finance somewhere north or south of the equator. Ho will laugh in your face. If you know where to go and get the confidence of the right people you can learn about some of these revolutionary movements not after they have happened but before. The boys who are doing the plotting say that it is a tossup whether the next blow-off will come in Venezuela or Argentina. The story goes that the Venezuelan affair will be of Bolshevist pattern; in Buenos Aires

the ways arc all greased for a Fascist coup d'etat. However, it should bo added that in Argentina Fascism is so close to Bolshevism that only by tho names can you tell the difference.'