Horacio Castellanos Moya - Tyrant Memory

Chente came over in the afternoon; I thought his time in jail would have dampened his enthusiasm, but he has again plunged head first into organizing the strike. He said his fellow prisoners have also left jail even more resolved to struggle against the tyrant. Today, he informed me, final-year students who work as interns in the hospitals, legal assistants in the courts, employees of the Ministry of Public Works, and assistants in dental clinics will all go on strike. And he explained that he is part of the group responsible for raising funds to help students who work in public sector offices who have gone on strike and who have families to support. I offered to lend him a hand in whatever way I could. Later, I went to my parents’ house; I explained the situation to Father. He told me he believes it will not be difficult to find honorable men who want to contribute to the strike fund to help defeat the warlock as long as their names, of course, are never revealed.

When I arrived home, María Elena was waiting for me with the news that Mila has let Ana go and begun to pack up the house, she will turn it over to the owners next Friday so they won’t charge her for an additional month, and she will move into her parents’ house. I felt wretched, as if the day had suddenly been spoiled. But there is nothing I can do: that woman is driven by the red-hot sin burning between her legs and nobody can stop her. What will become of Clemen when he finds out? I told myself I must focus on the tasks at hand and the memory of my meeting with my husband to avoid having bad thoughts. Fortunately Carmela and Chelón came by for coffee a while later, to find out in detail how Pericles is, what his living conditions are; they asked me if they could come with me for a brief visit once the visits become regular, just to say hello and have the pleasure of giving him a hug, without intruding for long on our privacy. I told them they could, of course, but that I hope Pericles will be freed before they allow regular visits. Then we spoke about the strike and I showed them the leaflet Chente had given me; they had a different one, also a typed carbon copy, more or less saying the same thing, calling on everybody to stop cooperating in any way with the government, nobody should go to the movie theaters the warlock owns, or buy lottery tickets, or pay local taxes. Both leaflets call for a boycott of the government newspapers and a large show of passive resistance, but the one Chente brought me asks everybody to always wear a token of mourning as a way of showing that they condemn the executions. Chelón commented that there doesn’t seem to be any sign of the government re-authorizing the publication of opposition newspapers.

A short while ago, Betito told me he believes the high schools will soon call a strike, today there was an intense discussion on the subject at his school. I warned him not to use the excuse of a strike to miss classes if other students are attending, the struggle against the general is serious and there’s no excuse for taking advantage of it in order to party with his friends; I know my sons all too well.

It has been an intense and gratifying day; to be with Pericles was like a gift from heaven for which I am deeply grateful.

Thursday April 27

Once again, intimidation and violence! The general is counterattacking rather than relenting. We were about to begin the novenas of mourning for Lieutenant Marín when the National Guard troops burst into the church. Doña Chayito had summoned me to attend: she said our presence was important to show our solidarity with the family. I didn’t think twice about it. But when I arrived I realized there was a big crowd, even Chente and Fabito were milling around in the atrium, so I assumed this was an act of both solidarity and denunciation. What I never thought possible was that the warlock would dare to send his troops into the church with orders to evict us. He is sacrilegious, an apostate. Fortunately, the boys saw them coming and took off in time to avoid confrontations and arrests. I am still furious. This is the last straw. Lieutenant Marín’s wife and his mother are both primary school teachers, and they have decided to go on strike with the support of many of their colleagues.

The day began with excellent good news. Mingo dropped by the house to find out how Pericles is doing, and he took the opportunity to tell me that the Americans have already firmly turned their backs on the general, yesterday the ambassador rejected the government’s proposal for the United States to send officers to reorganize the air force, which was virtually dismantled after the attempted coup. “Such a rejection means they’ve lost all trust in the government,” Mingo explained to me with great excitement. I went straight to Father with the news. He told me he’d speak with Uncle Charlie to confirm. By noon everybody had heard that “the man” is being left out in the cold.

Father dropped by in the evening to give me an envelope full of money for me to give to Chente, so that the strike committee can distribute it among those who need to support their families. I was amazed, surprised by the speed with which he had collected so much money. He explained that the warlock is digging his own grave, not when he executed the officers who had betrayed him but rather when he sentenced Don Agustín, Dr. Pérez, and Dr. Romero to death. He insisted I make it very clear to the students that they will never learn the names of the donors and that there should be no receipts or any other compromising paperwork. Minutes later I went to find Chente, but he wasn’t there. I put the envelope away in my trunk and went to Mass.

As we were leaving church, under the strict surveillance of the soldiers, our fear subdued by our outrage, Doña Chayito told me that the government must know by now about the campaign to support the interns who have gone on strike in the hospitals and government offices, because this morning both government newspapers carried a furious tirade against them, and she said that perhaps he ordered the Mass cancelled for the same reason, just so we wouldn’t get our hopes up that his resolve was weakening. What one hand gives the other takes away, as the saying goes.

A short while ago, just as I was about to go to my bedroom and María Elena had already gone to hers, Chente came over. We discussed the warlock’s wickedness, his apostasy. He asked after Betito; I told him he was out with his friends but would return at any moment. I noticed he was nervous. I told him to wait for me in the living room; I went to get the envelope full of money out of the trunk, and I gave it to him. “What’s this?” he asked as he opened it with amazement. “A contribution for the students who are on strike,” I said. His face lit up; he was about to count the money, but I repeated the warning Father had given me. Before leaving, he gave me a carbon copy of a new leaflet, which I have here on my desk and looks like it was just written, which asks all to “pray together for our humble, saintly, and beloved archbishop, who has been repeatedly humiliated by the tyrant, a theosophist who does not believe in God and works in devious ways to persecute the Catholic Church.” Betito came home later; he claims that enthusiasm for the strike is growing everywhere. I told him I would go visit his grandmother Licha in Cojutepeque tomorrow, and I would take María Elena with me, and if he doesn’t want to eat lunch alone he should go to my mother’s house. I repeated that he should be very careful.

Friday April 28

I was out of San Salvador for only ten hours, but when I returned I had the feeling that much more time had passed. Betito greeted me with the news that there were practically no classes at his school because most of the professors were absent, and next week will be worse, he says, because the entire teachers’ union will be on strike. Then I found out, at Raúl’s house, that Dr. Romero is recovering and, if nothing changes, in one week they’ll release him from the hospital and the general plans to execute him immediately; Raúl said with absolute conviction that the Salvadoran Medical Association will do everything possible to prevent his execution. Events are hurtling forward: the students have formed committees to persuade diverse sectors to support the strike, and people seem to be slowly losing their fear, so much so that Mother told me that some of her friends are considering closing their shops starting next week and keeping them closed until the warlock is gone. The government is pulling out all the stops: Betito brought home a leaflet from a pretend committee that supports the government, saying the strike is being promoted by the wealthy who are outraged that the general has taken measures that benefit the poor. He is not only criminal but also shameless.