Panama fever (46 page)

But only hours after the declaration of independence American troops had been landed and there were half a dozen U.S. gunboats on either side of the Isthmus. Roosevelt was wielding his “big stick”— naval power—for the first time. The Colombians were forbidden to land soldiers anywhere in Panama. On November 19 Reyes arrived off Colón as head of a commission charged with offering Panama anything short of independence. But he was not even allowed to go ashore, and proceeded to Washington to try his luck there.

Meanwhile, the Colombians equipped a force to try to make it overland to Colón through the Darién jungle. The men started off the following month, exhorted by their general that “it is preferable to see the Colombian race exterminated than to submit to the United States.” But Darién proved impenetrable and, ravaged by disease, the troops soon turned back.

Claude Mallet's take on the extraordinary events of earlier in the month is pretty much spot-on: “I have come to the conclusion,” he wrote on November 20, “that the scheme for a Republic was planned here, supported financially by persons interested in canal affairs in Paris, and encouraged by the Washington officials.” Nor was he unaware of the implications: “The Americans, by their action here, have cast international customs to the winds, and henceforth, a new example has been set how to acquire the territory of your neighbour or friend.”

As Cromwell and Bunau-Varilla had anticipated, the U.S. newspapers on the day after the “revolution” were dominated by domestic election news. On November 5, however, Panama was on every front page, and many papers would concur with Mallet's reading of the events. It was, said one, “revolution of the canal, by the canal, for the canal.” “It is another step in the imperial policy,” said the
Pittsburgh Post.
“‘Might makes right’—steal from the weak.” There were many echoes of five years before, when the war with Spain had led to the formation of a widely supported Anti-Imperialism League. For the
Baltimore News
, the “Panama Affair” had, like the U.S. actions in the Philippines and Hawaii, brought the United States down to the sordid level of the land-grabbing European powers. To blame, said another paper, was the “hot-headed and immature” Theodore Roosevelt. “It begins to look as if nobody can touch that Panama ditch without being defiled,” concluded the
Salt Lake Herald.

The criticisms of American aggression, connivance in the revolution, and overhasty recognition of the new republic would be led by the
New York Times
, then a fiercely partisan Democratic paper. To the
Times
, the canal was “stolen property,” and it soon focused its guns on the shady role of Cromwell. One of his partners, Edward B. Hill, when approached replied in classic style, “You can quote me to the extent of saying that I have nothing to say.”

Others took a more pragmatic line. Even if the policy was wrong, said the
Houston Post
, “The thing is done, there is no way of undoing it, and the least said about it the better.” For the
San Francisco Chronicle
, it was a sign of the times, but not therefore a cause for regret: “The world must move on,” it wrote. “It is an age of power. The weak will be protected, but they will not be permitted to obstruct, whether upon the continent of America, the isthmus of Panama, the isles of the Pacific, the plains of Manchuria, or the valleys of the Ganges and the Indus. It is manifest destiny.”

In all, about two-thirds of the United States’ newspapers supported Roosevelt's actions, buying into his theory of “eminent domain” and his portrayal of the Colombians as blackmailers and extortionists. Those opposed tended to be Southern and Democratic-leaning. Certainly, public opinion never quite reached the level of opposition to the action in the Philippines. “The disheartening fact is that the connivance of our administration in the dismemberment of a sister republic is accepted so phlegmatically,” wrote a correspondent to the New England Anti-Imperialist League. “The country ought to be ringing with the protests of citizens in mass-meetings assembled.” But the man in the street's verdict, as reported by a Yale professor of law, was that “it served Colombia right.” With the general acceptance of the U.S. action over Panama, one of the founding principles of the United States passed away forever, and the stage was set for U.S. aggression and expansion throughout the region and, indeed, the world.

eading the country away from its historical anticolonialism was, of course, Theodore Roosevelt. While many hoped that there had not been direct involvement in the revolution, they also admired the president's “virile” and “strenuous” response to events. One congressman was quoted as saying to Roosevelt, “Mr. President, I am glad you did not start the rabbit to running, but as long as the rabbit was going to run anyhow, it's a good thing we did not have a bow-legged man in the White House who couldn't catch it.”

Roosevelt, of course, defended his actions and denied any role in the uprising. “I did not lift a finger to incite the revolutionists,” he declared. “I simply ceased to stamp out the different revolutionary fuses that were already burning.” His first task after the fait accompli was to bring his cabinet on board, and he gave a long, detailed statement of his position. When he had finished he turned to his secretary of war, Elihu Root. “Well,” he asked, “have I answered the charges? Have I defended myself?”

“You certainly have, Mr. President,” replied Root in a jokey tone. “You have shown that you were accused of seduction and you have conclusively proved that you were guilty of rape.”

But in the changed political climate, it did not matter. On November 10 Roosevelt and his wife went to the opera to see
Barbette
at the National Theater. One of the lines was “What, a diplomat steal? A diplomat never steals. He only annexes!” The entire audience turned toward the president's box, and Roosevelt laughed as heartily as anyone and waved his hand in glee at the admiring crowd.

The next day the French ambassador Jules Jusserand had lunch with the president. When the talk inevitably turned to Panama, Roosevelt declared, “It is reported that we have made the revolution; it is not so, but for months such an occurrence was probable and I was ready for it. It is all for the best… Everything goes on there as we would wish; I am about to receive Mr. Bunau-Varilla.”

n November 4, when Colonel Torres was still in Colón, Bunau-Varilla had received a cable from Amador asking for the immediate transfer of the promised $100,000 to pay for the bribery of the Colombian troops. No mention, however, had been made of the agreed appointment of the Frenchman as Panama's minister plenipotentiary and envoy extraordinaire. Bunau-Varilla reluctantly released $25,000, which was transferred to a Panama bank for the use of the junta. The next day another cable arrived, again pressing for more money and for Bunau-Varilla to expedite the recognition by the United States of the new republic. But, to Bunau-Varilla's growing suspicion, there was still no mention of the diplomatic appointment. In fact, the junta was preparing to send its own commission to Washington to negotiate a new canal treaty, just as Bunau-Varilla feared. The Frenchman was determined that only he should have the honor of seeing his name on the canal treaty, and was not about to let anyone else “mess up” the negotiations.

Bunau-Varilla knew very well that the United States could not recognize Panama until the Colombian troops had left Colón, but his reply implied that both the advance of the rest of the money and the recognition from the United States, so crucial to Panama in its first days, depended on his appointment as Panama's minister in Washington. When de facto recognition arrived just after midday on November 6, the Panamanians were under the impression that this had been arranged by Bunau-Varilla and later that day, wanting to keep him on side and secure formal recognition from the United States (which required a reception by the president), the junta at last gave him the appointment he wanted.

But three days later, just as Amador and Federico Boyd were preparing to sail for the United States, Bunau-Varilla was cabled detailed instructions about the sort of treaty Panama wanted. The terms included joint tribunals in the Zone, the reversion to Panama of land leased to the New Company, and powers of raising duties at the terminal ports. The clear implication was that Bunau-Varilla was to start negotiations, but to discuss all matters with Amador and Boyd when they reached Washington.

It is not known whether this cable was ever seen by Bunau-Varilla. By November 9 he was already in Washington, “to begin there,” as he puts it, “the last and supreme battle.” The same day he lunched with Hay, having informed the secretary of state of his appointment as “envoy extraordinaire” as soon as he had received it. At the meeting Bunau-Varilla urged Hay to organize quickly his official reception by the president. Hay agreed to this, but then asked the Frenchman about reports that a commission was setting off from Panama to come to negotiate a canal treaty. Bunau-Varilla had seen the same newspaper story that morning and had his answer ready: “Mr. Secretary of State, the situation harbors the same fatal germs— perhaps even more virulent ones—as those which caused at Bogota the rejection of the Hay-Herran Treaty.” The same “intrigues” of “politicians” were active in Panama, as in Colombia. The situation could only be saved, Bunau-Varilla exclaimed, by “firmness of decision, and lightning rapidity of action. It is necessary to leave the enemy no time to perfect his plans.”

The “enemy”—the “fatal germs”—were, it should be stressed, the Panamanians themselves, the leaders of the country he was supposed to be representing. But to Bunau-Varilla, the Commission was a “manoeuvre,” an “intrigue … Amador was a party to it. I knew his childish desire to sign the Treaty.” Bunau-Varilla was determined that such “childish” politicians should not stand in the way of “the last and supreme battle” being fought, and won “for the triumph of the Panama Canal” by Bunau-Varilla himself.

Hay did not miss the urgency, producing for circulation a draft treaty the very next day. He also took on board the Frenchman's tone, and realized that as long as he was dealing with Bunau-Varilla rather than the incoming commission of Amador and Boyd, Panamanian interests could be largely discounted. Both men were also aware that the treaty faced its sternest test at home in Washington, in a Senate that had only narrowly approved the choice of Panama. In addition, the rumors of improper U.S. involvement in the “revolution” had provided ammunition to enemies of the administration and/or the canal, what Bunau-Varilla called “the passions of parties and of contradictory elements.” But with Panama prostrate—through its dependence on the U.S. military for its survival, as well as because of its
extraordinaire
representation in Washington—a deal could be rushed through whose terms would be irresistible to the Senate.

This is reflected in the articles of Hay's first draft treaty, produced on November 10. Its basis was the Hay-Herrán Treaty, including the onetime $10 million payment and the annuity, but substantially modified in favor of the United States. Nowhere was Panamanian sovereignty acknowledged, and the proposed Canal Zone was increased in area by 60 percent and included the “terminal” cities of Colón and Panama City. Within this Zone, now to be American “in perpetuity,” the United States would have total military and civic control. Every possible objection that the Senate could raise was dealt with head-on. In fact many of the measures echo those amendments proposed to the Hay-Herrán Treaty by Morgan with the explicit purpose of making the deal unacceptable to Colombia.