CHILE: Hail to the Chief

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For President Gabriel González Videla's return from his U.S. good-will tour, two different groups of Chileans planned welcomes. Santiago officials ordered an arch of triumph, flowers, banners, and a day off for everybody. Communists, proclaiming that "González is handing over Chile to the Yankees," plotted strikes and street demonstrations.

Neither show came off. Before boarding his U.S. Army Air Force plane at New Orleans, González canceled the civic welcome because he thought it an extravagance. When the time came, the Communists did little more than scatter a few leaflets in the streets. Otherwise, they were lost in the crowds whose spontaneous applause and cheers were the best indication that González' popularity is still high.

Taking no chances, the police had cordoned off the crowds at such a distance from the presidential palace, La Moneda, that the President could hardly see them when he stepped out on a balcony. "Who ordered this?" shouted González. "Put down the ropes—take them away." Then, as 20,000 Chileans surged toward his balcony, he launched into a speech that lasted for two hours.

At 7 p.m., the enthusiastic President went back into the gloomy old palace, where politicians and friends crowded around to greet him. In two hours, he talked to nearly a thousand people, embracing each one and calling each by his first name. Then, still fresh and lively, he spent an hour and three-quarters with the press. "The average U.S. citizen believes war is unavoidable," he said. "But come what may, we stand always loyal to the democracies." The U.S., he thought, was a great place, and he told in detail of what he had seen of TVA, Louisiana oilfields and Texas ranches. Of his Washington visit, he said: "I didn't ask for anything. But President Truman on his own initiative ordered a White House official to push Chile's irrigation loan through in the International Bank."

The reporters told him that Chileans hadn't liked all the U.S. publicity about his samba dancing and fondness for late parties. "Ah," explained González with the unruffled air of a well-traveled diplomat, "in America the press gives great importance to private life; here the newspapers wouldn't even have noticed."