The other article is about Ceylon. It’s true, at that time Trotskyism had taken hold there. The text asserts that Trotskyism is the second most powerful force in the Parliament and the most powerful among the unions. From the way the tenses go, it would seem the article was translated from the French — by Mayta himself, perhaps? The names, beginning with that of Madame Bandaranaike, the Prime Minister, are difficult to remember.
Okay, the National Anthem is over, and the representative of the army, the usual spokesman for the Junta, steps forward. In an unusual move, he skips the pompous patriotic rhetoric he normally uses, and instead gets right to the heart of the matter. His voice has less of a military ring and is more tremulous. Three military columns, made up of Cubans and Bolivians, have penetrated deep into our territory, supported by planes which, beginning last night, have been bombing civilian targets in Puno, Cuzco, and Arequipa. An open violation of all international laws and agreements. There are many casualties, and considerable property damage. In the very heart of the city of Puno, bombs have destroyed part of the Social Security Hospital, causing an as yet undetermined number of deaths. The description of the disasters takes him several minutes. Will he tell us if the Marines have crossed the Ecuadorian border?
The small box at the bottom of the page announces that shortly the RWP(T) will present at the union hall of the Civil Construction Union its previously postponed program on “The Betrayed Revolution: A Trotskyist Interpretation of the Soviet Union.” To find Mayta’s resignation, you have to turn the page. It’s in a corner, below an extensive article entitled “Let’s Set Up Soviets in the Barracks!” With no heading or frame: “Resigns from the RWP(T).” The spokesman now assures us that the Peruvian troops, despite the fact that they are fighting against superior numbers and greater logistical support, are heroically resisting the criminal invasion of international communist terrorism, and have the decided support of the civilian populace. The committee, invoking martial law, has this afternoon activated three new divisions of reservists. Will he tell us if U.S. planes are bombing the invaders?
Comrade Secretary General of the RWP(T)
Lima
Comrade:
I take this opportunity to communicate to you my irrevocable decision to resign from the ranks of the Revolutionary Workers’ Party (Trotskyist), in which I have been a militant for more than ten years. I have taken this decision for personal reasons. I wish to be independent again and to act under my own responsibility, so that anything I might say or do will not compromise the party in any way. I need my freedom of action in these moments in which our country is foundering once again in the struggle between revolution and reaction.
My voluntary withdrawal from the RWP(T) does not mean that I am breaking with the ideals that have marked the path of revolutionary socialism for the workers of the world. I would like, comrade, to reaffirm once again my faith in the Peruvian proletariat, my conviction that the revolution will become a reality that will once and for all break the chains of exploitation and obscurantism which have weighed so heavily on our people for centuries. The process of liberation will be carried out in the light of that theory — more solid and stronger than ever before — conceived by Marx and Engels and implemented by Lenin and Trotsky.
I request that my resignation be published in Workers Voice (T) so that the public will be informed.
Long live the Revolution!
A. Mayta Avendano
He’s only said it at the end, very quickly, with less firmness, as if he wasn’t very sure. In the name of the Peruvian people, who are gloriously fighting in defense of Western civilization and Christianity in the free world, against the onslaught of collectivist and totalitarian atheism, the Junta has requested and obtained from the government of the United States of America support troops and logistical supplies to repel the communist Russo-Cuban-Bolivian invasion that seeks to enslave our homeland. So this is true as well. Here we go. The war is no longer a Peruvian affair. Peru is just one more theater for the war the Great Powers are waging, directly and through satellites or allies. Whoever wins, the fact is that hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, will die. If Peru survives, it will be prostrate. I was so sleepy I didn’t feel I had enough energy even to turn off the TV.
His anxiety was justified when he turned around: Anatolio was pointing a pistol at him. He wasn’t afraid, just sorry: the delay it would cause! And what about Vallejos? The plan had to be carried out step by step with absolute precision, and it was clear that Anatolio wasn’t there to kill him but to keep him from getting to Jauja. He strode firmly toward the boy to try to convince him to be reasonable, but Anatolio stretched out his arm energetically and Mayta saw that he was going to squeeze the trigger. He raised his hands over his head, thinking: To die without even having fought. He felt a lacerating sadness; he’d never be with them, there on Calvary when the Epiphany began. “Why are you doing this, Anatolio?” His own voice disgusted him: a real revolutionary is logical and cold, not sentimental. “Because you’re a faggot,” said Anatolio in a calm, leaden, forceful, irreversible tone, one Mayta wished he could use just now. “Because you’re a queer and you’ve got to pay the price,” confirmed the secretary general, his jaundiced face and pointy ears jutting forward. “Because you’re a faggot and disgusting,” added Comrade Moises/Medardo, sticking his profile over Comrade Jacinto’s shoulder. The whole Central Committee of the RWP(T) was there, one behind the other, all armed with pistols. He had been judged, sentenced, and they were now going to execute him. Not for indiscipline, errors, or betrayal, but — how petty, how asinine — for having slid his tongue, like a stiletto, between Anatolio’s teeth. He lost all composure and began to cry out for Vallejos, Ubilluz, Lorito, the peasants from Ricran, the joeboys: “Get me out of this trap, comrades.” With his back soaking wet, he woke up. From the edge of the bed, Anatolio was looking at him.
“I couldn’t make out what you were saying,” he heard him whisper.
“What are you doing here?” Mayta stuttered, still partly in his nightmare.
“I just came by,” said Anatolio. He was looking at him without blinking, with an intriguing little light in his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”
“The truth is that you’re hard to figure,” Mayta said softly, without moving. He had a bitter taste in his mouth, his eyes were bleary, and he still had goose bumps from the scare he’d had. “The truth is, you’re a cynic, Anatolio.”
“You taught me everything,” said the boy gently, always looking him in the eye with an undefinable expression that irritated Mayta and made him remorseful. A horsefly began to buzz around the light bulb.
“I taught you to screw like a man, not to be a hypocrite,” said Mayta, making an effort to control his rage: Calm down, don’t insult him, don’t hit him, don’t argue. Just get him out of here.
“The Jauja idea is crazy. We talked it over, and we all agreed that you had to be stopped,” said Anatolio without moving, with a certain vehemence. “No one was going to kick you out. Why did you go to Blacquer? No one would have expelled you.”
“I’m not going to argue with you,” said Mayta. “This is all ancient history. Why don’t you just leave.”
But the boy didn’t move a muscle and didn’t stop looking at him with that look that had both provocation and scorn.
“We aren’t comrades or friends anymore,” said Mayta. “What the fuck do you want?”