While conducting research for my book Authoritarian El Salvador at the U.S. National Archives in 1992, I came across a U.S. military intelligence document listing the political enemies of President Maximiliano Hernández Martínez. It is appropriate to make this list public in El Salvador, as some readers may find family members, friends, or acquaintances on it. I later discovered that the Martínez regime had prepared many lists of individuals and organizations throughout El Salvador. I found these other lists in 1994 and 1995 during my research in the collection of the Ministry of the Interior at the General Archive of the Nation in San Salvador. On the one hand, the existence of these series of names can be interpreted as part of the normal operations of a state bureaucracy. But, knowing what we know about Martínez and the police state he presided over, it is difficult not to see them as sinister documents.
It is difficult to interpret the meaning of the list we are publishing, because we know little about its origins and need to understand its context. Those who study this period of El Salvador's history recognize many people on the list who challenged the Martínez regime and ended up in prison, in exile, or suffered a worse fate, but they are surprised not to find other names. Furthermore, we do not know if this list came directly from Martínez himself, nor do we know how U.S. military intelligence officials acquired this information.
The document purports to be a “copy,” and the fact that names that should have accents or “ñ” do not have them suggests that the document was typed in a U.S. office where the typewriter was for English-speaking users. It is probably a copy of a handwritten original.
In order to provide context for readers, we invited four Salvadoran academics, Jorge Cáceres Prendes, Héctor Lindo, Ricardo Roque Baldovinos, and Roberto Turcios, who have conducted research on this period, to send us their comments. We asked them to write about any aspect of the list that they found relevant, and each of them generously gave their time to the project and sent us the responses that we publish below. Cáceres Prendes points out the contrast between the U.S. intelligence list and the list of conspirators who attempted to overthrow Martínez in 1944; Héctor Lindo reflects on his father’s presence on the list; Ricardo Roque Baldovinos identifies many important figures in the literary world among the names; and Roberto Turcios discusses the political context. The comments are organized alphabetically by author.
Jorge Cáceres Prendes, Professor at the National University of Costa Rica in the School of International Relations
The list, if it was indeed drawn up based on Maximiliano Hernández Martínez’s opinion expressed to a U.S. official, does not include as his enemies the military personnel —and many civilians as well— who were actually conspiring against him at the time. Was he unaware of this, or would he not have been so imprudent as to reveal them to such an unreliable source? I am including the following list I reviewed, since other sources had errors, of those convicted in the trials of April and May 1944.
25 men convicted on April 10 (the 11 executed by firing squad appear with a cross): Gen. Alfonso Marroquín✝, Cnel. Tito Tomás Calvo✝, and Lt. Cnel. Alfredo Aguilar; Capts. Major Julio Faustino Sosa✝, Héctor Montalvo, Guillermo Fuentes Castellanos, Manuel Sánchez Dueñas✝, Fidel Issusi, and Benjamín Rodríguez; Lts. Marcelino Calvo✝, Oscar Armando Cristales✝, Héctor Castaneda Dueñas, Ricardo Lemus Rivas, and Daniel Cañas Infante; Second Lts. Edgardo Chacón✝, Antonio Gavidia Castro✝, Ricardo Mancía González✝, and Miguel Angel Linares✝; student pilot Enrique Aberle; and civilians Agustín Alfaro Morán and Drs. Arturo Romero, Francisco Guillermo Pérez, Mario Calvo, Tomás Calvo, and Víctor Marín✝
19 men convicted on April 23 (three who were shot appear with a cross): Lt. Col. Francisco Acosta; Capts. Carlos Francisco Piche Menéndez✝, Carlos Gavidia Castro✝, Alfredo Jiménez Barrios, and Fernando Carmona Dárdano; Lts. Silvio López y López, Alfonso Marín✝, Mariano Castro Morán, Carlos Alberto Cornejo,, Víctor Manuel Guardado, and Miguel Angel Muñoz; Second Lts. José Luis Escobar, Roberto Morán López, Salvador Crespo, and Luis Bernardo Herrera; and civilians Dr. Salvador Ricardo Merlos, Crescencio Castellanos Rivas, and Juan José Castaneda Dueñas.
Editor’s Note: For more information about the above list, see the following article by Dr. Cáceres: “Myths and words: the former president of the military trial against the rebels of April 2, 1944, in El Salvador. Historical memory and history as dramatic representation.” Revista de Historia (Costa Rica) No. 61-62 (January-December 2010): 75-112.
Héctor Lindo, Professor Emeritus of History, Fordham University, New York
President Martínez’s list of political enemies, lacking in detail and consisting simply of one name after another, is, in its brevity, an eloquent testimony to life under a dictatorship and a premonition of the military regimes that would follow — remember the Yellow Book of the 1980s and the lists of Major Roberto D’Aubuisson.
Inevitably, the first name that caught my eye was enemy number 30, Hugo Lindo, my father. He was a young man, 26 years old, about the same age as my graduate students. What kind of trouble was this young man getting himself into? Among his sins was ordering books on labor law from Chile that Martínez’s censors did not allow through customs. By 1943, he was already gaining notoriety as a writer and was certainly active in the movement against Martínez, but he could hardly be described as radical. His friends included Roberto Lara Velado, future founder of the Christian Democratic Party, and right-wing ideologue Antonio Rodríguez Porth. In addition, that year he was quite busy courting Carmen, a shy and —necessarily— very patient girl, with whom he started a family.
The young university student Hugo Lindo was in the company of prominent people. Martínez’s enemies included some of the most prominent lawyers of the time, such as Dr. Margarito González Guerrero, an unconditional representative of big capital. The list also includes the names of politicians with long careers, such as former minister General José María Peralta Lagos; former presidential candidates Enrique Córdova and Miguel Tomás Molina; and Rodolfo Cordón, future provisional president at the beginning of the PCN period.
These men of the establishment rub shoulders on the list with old left-wing fighters who had participated in anti-imperialist activism, such as Salvador Merlos and Victorino Ayala. To complete the picture, the list includes army officers of all ranks, from General Castaneda Castro to Captain Miguel Polanco, and members of prominent families, such as a certain López Harrison, or Suárez.
All of them are enemies of the state, suspects, under surveillance.
The list is a combined expression of the paranoia of a dictator who saw enemies among young people and veterans, among members of the establishment and its critics, among the military and the heirs of old families, and the reality of the broad opposition that had been earned by an authoritarian government that did not respect personal freedoms or democratic processes. But, in the end, by 1943, Martínez was isolated; the general had no one to write to him.
Letter from 1912: Santa Rosa de Lima versus the Mining Companies
Ricardo Roque Baldovinos, Professor in the Department of Communications and Culture at the José Simeón Cañas Central American University (UCA), El Salvador
From the list of political enemies of General Hernández Martínez’s regime reported around 1943, I will limit myself to commenting on a few names that, at first glance, resonate in the Salvadoran literary world.
I will begin by mentioning General José María Peralta Lagos, born in 1875, who was a military man and statesman, but also a prominent writer known for his humorous writings, which he signed with the pseudonym T. P. Mechín. His most famous work is the satirical play Candidato, in which he paints a farcical picture of the Salvadoran political system, burdened by patronage and corruption.
Like many intellectuals of his generation, Peralta was enthusiastic about the promise of order and national renewal offered by the military regime that emerged from the coup that overthrew Arturo Araujo in 1931. This seems to have been the case with another prominent intellectual linked to the teaching profession, Professor Rubén H. Dimas, founder of the García Flamenco school. Many of these intellectuals distanced themselves from Martínez in his later years, without this signifying a “shift to the left.” Rather, this evolution reveals the extent to which the regime’s legitimacy had been eroded.
Born in 1917, the prominent poet Hugo Lindo belonged to a younger generation that entered the world of letters during the early years of the dictatorship. He became actively involved in the opposition movement, to the point of suffering persecution and imprisonment. In later years, Lindo also pursued a career as a statesman, especially in the diplomatic service.
I would not want to overlook the case of several names that appear with the surname Castellanos. Specifically, Crescencio Castellanos Rivas was also the author of another satirical play that was presented in the 1960s and focused on the national political system. This comedy, which is difficult to find today, is titled, Yo quiero ser diputado (I Want to Be a Congressman). Crescencio is part of the family that inspired five novels by Horacio Castellanos Moya, which offer a fictional reconstruction of the background to the armed conflict between 1979 and 1992. The drama of the Aragón family torn apart by the struggle against a strong man known as “the sorcerer” is the subject of Tirana memoria (2008), the third novel in the series.
Roberto Turcios, Salvadoran historian and former advisor to the Presidency of El Salvador
There were eighty political enemies, if we are to believe this list from March 1943. But there were many more people who opposed the dictatorial regime of General Maximiliano Hernández Martínez at that time, when he was 65 years old and had been ruling the government with an iron fist for twelve years.
Just thirteen months after the date of the document, on Palm Sunday 1944, it was announced on the radio in the capital that the tyrant was about to fall. Two intellectuals spoke over the microphones: him, Crescencio Castellanos Rivas, who was on the list; and her, Matilde Elena López, who was not. Yes, a woman. There were no women on the list. Why? Perhaps because Maximiliano Hernández Martínez was a patriarch through and through; as such, he could not conceive of a woman daring to resist him. At that time, the entire society was molded around patriarchal symbols.
The list included men who had been ministers, directors, and heads of departments in the general’s first two governments. At the end of 1938, he was busy securing his continuity without the hassle of elections, so several of the professionals who appeared on the list resigned. And they became suspects.
The regime formalized its dictatorial continuity with constitutional norms. However, it did not use many formalities to imprison real or imagined opponents. Officers Salvador Castaneda Castro and Asencio Menéndez knew the repressive rigor applied to those accused of conspiracy. The former left the Ministry of the Interior; the latter, the Vice Ministry of War; both were on the list. The latter spent several months in prison.
From December 1931 to May 1944, the general led the government, the army, and society. He organized the apparatus of citizen control, which became the hallmark of his rule. The apparatus functioned relentlessly for a time. Then it ceased to be effective. Opposition discontent and the desire for democracy were stronger than the dictatorial organization.
When this list was drawn up, the ranks of the rebels were growing. On September 18, 1941, the Salvadoran Democratic Action was formed, and two years later it promoted a memorable summons. More than two hundred people —all men— submitted a brief to the Supreme Court of Justice against a regulation issued by the executive branch because it restricted electoral rights. Thus, a considerable part of the Salvadoran intellectual and social leadership had put their names and signatures to a document that made a resounding statement against the regime. This list of eighty names was now out of date; even more so, the regime’s repressive operations were out of date.
The March 1943 list did not include the names of the leaders of the military rebellion that broke out on April 2, nor those who organized the Brazos Caídos (Arms Down) strike at the end of that month. So what was the nature of this list? Perhaps the list was not authentic; perhaps it was; in the latter case, it served a purpose: to threaten the suspects and exert psychological pressure on those eighty people. It was therefore a mechanism of control, a list of the general’s ghosts to intimidate the citizenry.
*Erik Ching is a professor of history at Furman University, South Carolina, and the author of several books and articles on the political history of El Salvador.