Orations at the Bridge

Under the new international bridge, the muddy Rio Uruguay raced in flood. But on the bridge Argentine troopers and Brazilian marines stood at immaculate attention. A strapping figure in the uniform of an Argentine general, and a tired little man in a dark civilian suit advanced toward each other. At midstream the two men snipped a ceremonial tape, then embraced. Thus, last week, after many postponements, Argentina's President Juan Perón and Brazil's President Caspar Eurico Dutra inaugurated the Augustin Justo bridge that links their countries.

For two years women on foot had shuttled their daily loads of flour, oil, sugar and soap across the bridge. But Brazil and Argentina are South America's most powerful rivals, and many reasons of state had been found to delay the formal inaugural. Finally, it could be put off no longer. Said a bored Brazilian as Dutra winged south for the meeting: "I suppose somebody had to go."

At the border, both parties did their best. Perón poured drinks for the first Brazilian President to visit his country since Getulio Vargas went to B.A. in 1935. Latin oratory was spilled. When the two Presidents yanked a string to unveil a commemorative plaque, up flew 1,500 Brazilian pigeons painted in the two countries' national colors. For Eva Duarte de Perón, Dutra had a whopping aquamarine brooch encrusted with diamonds.

Time for Talk. Afterwards, the two presidents crossed the river into Brazilian Uruguayana. At an old-fashioned residence of a Brazilian colonel, they withdrew with five top advisers for 2¼ hours' talk. Reporters who peeked around a curtain saw a cozy semicircle. Perón dominated the talk. Dutra, quiet by nature, weary and weighed down with Communist troubles at home (TIME, May 26), did little but listen. Besides, he still had to go 75 miles to Quarahy, for a second border meeting the next day with Uruguay's President Tomás Berreta.

"A continental event," pontificated President Perón. Brazil's press had almost nothing to say. A Brazilian proposal for joint mediation in Paraguay's stalemated civil war stalled. The tired topic of a wheat-for-rubber trade treaty stood where it had before—on the shelf.