PARAGUAY: Interim

In the autumn sunlight Asuncion hardly looked like the capital of a nation caught in the throes of civil war. Indian women and heavily laden burros carried produce to market. Men loafed in the cafes, sipping small cups of coffee and yerba mate. The seedy Palacio Lopez, where Dictator Higinio Morinigo rules with his back to the nearby muddy Paraguay River, had the easy, unguarded air of an Illinois county courthouse.

But at night, nervous irregulars fired sporadically. And almost everyone furtively read typewritten transcripts of the "Voice of Victory"—clandestine radio broadcasts of war news, either real or imagined. In what they read last week there were only a few solid facts.

The Chaco garrisons, which had the best arms, had gone over to the rebels, whose forces dominated Concepcion. So had four training planes and two hydroplanes, which constituted the bulk of the air force.

Colonel Federico Smith, son of an English trader and a hero of the Chaco War, had taken over as Commander in Chief of the Government forces. He promised "peace at a small cost in blood and money."

In well-trained troops, Smith probably had the edge, for his most effective fighters included a case-hardened cavalry division and contingents of marines. Smith's opposite number in the rebel camp was tantalum-tough, moonfaced ex-President Rafael Franco, leader of the vaguely leftist Febrerista Party.

Rebel Talk. Brazilian newsmen, who had flown to rebel headquarters, reported that the city swarmed with insurgent troops, "obviously in the last stages of preparation for a march on Asuncion." Before much blood was spilled (only one patrol clash had been reported), Government and rebels might still arrive at some kind of an understanding. Wily Dictator Morinigo was reported to have sent emissaries to the rebels. He also sent a mission to Buenos Aires to ask help from Argentina. If Buenos Aires gave him no hope (and there was no indication that it would), Morinigo would talk seriously with Concepcion.

After six years of dictatorship, in which nearly every human right has been abridged, Morinigo would have to hold out strong promises of better times to win the rebels and reunite the country. If appeasement failed, Paraguay might be in for a long civil war—although, with business already down 50%, the bets were against it. And there was always the chance, if Morinigo refused to make democratic concessions, that his own followers might decide that it was best for everyone to heave him out.