The war was drawing Americans and Brazilians together—and not just the heads of state. On January 30, 1943, while President Vargas was holding a press conference following his return from his meeting with President Roosevelt in Natal, Osvaldo Aranha dined at the private residence of Jefferson Caffery along with Admiral Ingram and General Walsh and several other US military officers.1 It was a dinner that proved to have important implications for the future of US-Brazilian relations.
Caffery’s residence was very much in keeping with the ambassador’s style: grand, imposing, furnished with taste, and completed with a large, secluded outdoor swimming pool. This was the US ambassador’s only residence, unlike the British ambassador who had a summer retreat near President Vargas in Petrópolis—yet perhaps because he had only one residence to show off, Caffery immensely enjoyed hosting guests. On this evening, as Aranha and the American officers enjoyed a predinner drink, Caffery made small talk by discussing the increased cost of living in Rio. Money was very much on the ambassador’s mind; in his annual reports to Washington, Caffery argued that the expense of putting on dinners and other official social functions expected of a US ambassador was far higher than the State Department’s allowance for such purposes.
Caffery’s complaints reflected an important problem in wartime Brazil: inflation. The ambassador reported that the cost of living index in January 1943 was forty-two points above that for 1939.2 Living costs in Rio had increased even more sharply than in the rest of Brazil, and in 1943 they were 83 percent higher than in 1939.3 In response to this increase, the Brazilian government raised the minimum wage in the capital city by 25 percent.4 One of the most substantial increases was in the cost of food, which had gone up by 40 percent since 1939, and sharp rises were forecast for the rest of 1943.5 While increases in food prices were not unique to Brazil, they did make it harder for Cariocas to maintain their standard of living. Caffery attributed this particular problem to a host of factors: “The curtailment of coastwise shipping because of the shortage of vessels and the submarine menace; a reduction in rail and motor transportation for the lack of equipment and fuel; a shortage of farm labor due to the increase in the Brazilian armed forces and higher wages in industry and the production of strategic war material; and drought affecting agricultural production.”6
Another issue about which Caffery often complained was the huge increase in the cost of housing in wartime Brazil. The local newspaper Diário Carioca attributed the problem—in Rio, at least—to a new phenomenon in the capital: foreign refugees. The paper observed:
The increase in rentals has been most accentuated in the Copacabana district. As a result of the war a multitude of refugees, the majority of them being persons of substance, invaded our most beautiful beach district, taking apartments by storm. They did not discuss price. They paid what was asked of them, making deals behind the scenes because of the law that prohibits an increase in rentals. . . . Landlords today will accept only cash as a deposit and instead of two or three months, they exact an advance deposit of rental for four months, which is never returned.7
The presence of such refugees in the capital, and the effect they had on Rio’s economy, contributed to an already xenophobic atmosphere in Brazil. First were the concerns that immigrants were subverting the country’s politics; now, it was Brazil’s finances that were threatened.
As Caffery reflected on these issues over drinks at his residence, Aranha weighed in. The foreign minister suggested that the ambassador was correct that the increases in price were related to the war, but that by far the most serious issue was the lack of fuel for transportation. This shortage was essentially asphyxiating the country’s economy, and its crippling effects would be felt for years. For all its wartime advances, the Brazilian economy continued to fall prey to high levels of inflation for the duration of the war and beyond.
When his guests sat down for dinner, Caffery received news that President Roosevelt had arrived safely back in Washington. It happened to be the president’s birthday, so the party toasted to his health. Following the clinking of glasses, the conversation shifted away from the small talk and onto the subject of Roosevelt’s meeting with Vargas on January 28. Aranha flattered his hosts by avowing that he had never seen Vargas as pleased by the outcome of a meeting as he was when he had returned to Rio.8 Both Caffery and Ingram returned the compliment, suggesting that Roosevelt also regarded the meeting as having been friendly and productive, reflecting the two leaders’ similar visions for the war effort.9 This delicate social minuet, however, concealed pressing diplomatic objectives for both Aranha and the Americans.
Caffery and Ingram were keen to discuss the ten-page memorandum that Aranha had written for Vargas to help the president prepare for his meeting with Roosevelt.10 The importance of the memorandum had been clear to Caffery as soon as he had glimpsed the document, for it contained details of exactly what Brazil expected to get in return for its support of the Allied war effort.11 What Caffery didn’t understand, however, was that the document represented the first attempt by Aranha to try to formally set out a series of detailed strategic goals for Brazil during World War II. The fact that he had felt able to share the document with Caffery before Roosevelt met with Vargas would have shocked many members of the Brazilian cabinet—most notably Dutra, who surely would have felt that the foreign minister should have been more circumspect in dealing with his American “allies.” Aranha’s decision was a reflection of his close working relationship with Caffery—but it was also a testament to his keen diplomatic skills, which were now working on overdrive.
Over dinner Aranha explained the contents of the document in more detail. From time to time Caffery interrupted in order to seek clarification on a specific point or to ask a direct question.12 Aranha followed the same subject order of the memorandum. “Brazil must continue to support the United States in the world in exchange for its support in South America,” he told Caffery, “and this should be maintained until the American victory in the war.”13 The Brazilian went on to predict: “The United States will lead the world when peace comes, and it would be a grave error on the part of Brazil not to be at its side.”
As the foreign minister spoke, it became apparent that he had a grand vision for how Brazil’s partnership with the United States would reshape his country. Brazil was still a weak country, Aranha knew, but in the future it would have the chance to play a much larger role in both continental and global politics.14 Economically the country would benefit from rapid postwar growth and a major increase in the size of its population, which might very well make Brazil one of the most important economies in the world. In order to cement its position on the international stage, however, Aranha felt that Brazil should seek to attract American and British capital and should not introduce nationalistic economic policies that might endanger such foreign investment in the country.15 Rather, Brazil should accept as an inevitable but temporary nuisance the economic difficulties that Caffery had mentioned before his guests sat down for dinner. “By ceding in war, we will gain in peacetime,” Aranha quipped.16 In the postwar period, he went on, the Brazilian economy would become ever more closely linked to that of the United States, and the country would undergo a program of industrialization and liberalization that would enable the movement of capital and immigrants, further propelling its economy.17 Its present military weakness, moreover, would soon end thanks to the supply of American weapons, which would transform the Brazilian armed forces into a modern well-equipped army.
In terms of international politics, Aranha argued that Brazil should join the notional United Nations and seek a seat in the supreme military councils of the combined Allied powers. He also had his eye on specific regions that Brazil might influence in the postwar era. The future of the Portuguese colonies in Africa and the Atlantic, Aranha knew, would be complicated. If the Portuguese empire were to collapse due to an Axis invasion, Brazil must be ready to help defend territories such as the Azores—a role that Aranha understood would guarantee Rio a strong hand in such far-flung places.18 He concluded that as Africa’s security was related to Brazil’s security, Brazil should also have a say in the future of that continent.
Aranha was calling for a partnership between the United States and Brazil not only on bilateral and continental affairs, but also on global geostrategic politics.19 And for the foreign minister, the prospect of a Brazilian expeditionary force could be a means of deepening this strategic cooperation between the United States and Brazil. By showing the United States that it could count on Brazil’s support in the war, Brazil hoped to be able to count on the United States’s support on South American issues in return.20 The price of Brazil’s support, in effect, was US help in making Brazil the dominant power—politically, economically, and militarily—in South America. Aranha suggested that the break with Argentina at the conference of foreign ministers almost exactly one year prior had created the opportunity for Brazil to achieve all these aims.21
Caffery was intrigued and impressed by the scale of the vision that Aranha outlined over dinner and that he had described in the memorandum for President Vargas.22 He was likely concerned, too, because the foreign minister’s lofty aims appeared to go far beyond anything Washington had authorized the ambassador to offer to the Brazilians. Instead of replying to Aranha’s outline of his vision, therefore, Caffery zeroed in on two important points regarding the future of Brazil: its relations with Argentina, and the fate of the Estado Novo in the postwar era.
The US ambassador was troubled by the rivalry between the two most powerful nations in South America.23 Yet Caffery also dismissed Brazilian hand-wringing over Argentine aggression. Writing to Washington later in 1943, he would describe Brazilian fears of an Argentine invasion as “cockeyed.”24 He admitted, however, that he had found it difficult to gather enough evidence to allay or confirm Brazilian fears of this potential threat.25
The Americans felt that the Brazilians had three major motives for emphasizing the danger of an Argentine attack in 1943. For one thing, the balance of power in South America had been shifting away from Argentina and toward Brazil in the years immediately prior to World War II, and if anything, this trend had continued at a faster rate during the war itself. Brazil had experienced rapid economic development in recent years, and the majority of its population had enjoyed some improvements in their living conditions (although the gains were not as great as Vargas had promised).26 But Brazil’s big advantage was its military. In 1943 alone, the size of the Brazilian army increased to about 130,000 officers and men, compared to Argentina’s strength of about 68,000 men.27 The Brazilian army had begun to reequip itself, moreover, with the large quantities of new materials it was receiving from the United States under the lend-lease agreement, and the Brazilian air force and navy were also growing.28 (Indeed, Washington suspected that the Brazilian government was stressing the Argentine threat in order to obtain more weapons than it would have otherwise received from the United States under the lend-lease agreement.)29 In an assessment of the Brazilian-Argentine rivalry, however, the United States concluded that:
despite these recent changes, the Brazilians are still fearful of an Argentine attack. They have not yet completely adjusted their mental processes to the new distribution of power in Latin America. While they are in command of human and material resources, which appear superior on paper, they still lack the confidence that would be acquired by a practical test of their own strength. The feeling of insecurity is reflected in at least one basic agreement between Brazil and the United States providing for United States assistance if Brazil is attacked by a pro-Nazi American state. Brazilian anxieties are stimulated by receipt of possibly exaggerated Argentine military preparations.30
Militarily, Brazil held a great advantage over Argentina by the beginning of 1943. The great irony was that this had not had the effect of making Brazilians feel any safer.
The United States also suspected that Brazilians’ nationalistic aspirations were behind their constant and vocal preoccupation with a possible Argentine invasion. The Americans felt that there were many prideful Brazilians who would oppose the idea of enlarging the country.31 By 1943 Argentina was effectively cut off from any foreign arms supplies, and some Brazilians might be inclined to seize this golden opportunity and deal with the Argentine threat once and for all.32 The Americans, however, admitted that there was no evidence that such views were widely held in Brazil, and ultimately concluded it was highly improbable that the country would launch a war of conquest against Argentina in 1943.33
The final motive that the United States ascribed to Brazil’s claims about the Argentine menace had to do with internal Brazilian politics.34 Relations between Góes Monteiro and other senior officers were under great strain due to the general’s increasingly public criticism of the army for its poor performance. While Caffery believed that Aranha’s statements were intended to extract more weapons from the United States, the statements of other senior figures in the Vargas regime, particularly Góes Monteiro, were much harder for the ambassador to interpret.35 Caffery sensed that the chief of staff’s frequent comments about the Argentine threat might have been intended to disrupt the cooperation between the United States and Brazil, and to assert Góes Monteiro’s authority over the Brazilian army at a time when he found himself in competition with other senior officers.
Over dinner, Caffery ran through this American interpretation of Brazil’s preoccupation with the Argentine threat. Aranha listened, and said little in reply. After Caffery finished his lecture, he, Aranha, Ingram, and Walsh all moved outside to the shaded patio, where drinks were served. The heat of another summer day was receding, but all four men nevertheless removed their white cotton jackets.
Aranha lit a cigarette and sat in a deck chair, as Caffery pressed him further for the details of his memorandum to Vargas. The ambassador noted that Aranha and Vargas appeared to be laying the groundwork for the postwar era, and he asked Aranha whether he thought the Estado Novo would survive past the end of the war. Surely, with Brazil committed to the war against tyranny abroad, Brazilians would not accept anything short of full democracy at home once the war ended.
Caffery wasn’t the only one who harbored doubts about the regime’s future. Aranha’s memorandum made it clear that the foreign minister was aware that Brazil would need to embrace free trade if it were to compete in the postwar economy, and Aranha knew too that any fiscal liberalization in Brazil would have to be accompanied by political reforms. Now, as he spoke with Caffery, the foreign minister confirmed that he was considering how Brazil might return to the democratic system it had enjoyed before the establishment of the Estado Novo.
The postwar period was also a topic of great interest to both Admiral Ingram and General Walsh, who held distinctly different ideas of what the partnership between Brazil and the United States ought to look like after the war. Ingram, who frequently met privately with President Vargas during his tenure in Brazil, argued that no US solider would remain in Brazilian territory once the war ended. General Walsh, on the other hand, was of the opinion that the United States should continue using the air bases and facilities it had built in Brazil even after the war was over, and he felt that the United States should start negotiating with the Brazilian government as soon as possible to ensure that it would have this right.36 Walsh saw clear military and commercial value in such an arrangement, and as the war went on—and the potential for another war between the West and the Soviet Union grew—the idea of an American military outpost in South America became only more appealing.
As the group on Caffery’s patio mulled over these questions about Brazil’s future, the informal discussions wound down, and the dinner party broke up. It had been a cheerful affair, and the good humor and frank exchange of views had been all but guaranteed due to the warm afterglow from the recent meeting between Roosevelt and Vargas. Aranha’s elaboration on his views about Brazil’s developing relationship with the United States—and his vision of Brazil’s role in the postwar world—had given Caffery, Ingram, and Walsh much food for thought.
Yet a critical observer of the dinner might well have concluded that Aranha’s conception of his country’s future relationship with the United States was not remotely close to that of the Americans. What Aranha craved most was a partnership, while the United States essentially wanted to dominate the Brazilians—though of course American officials never would have acknowledged this goal. These two divergent aims would guide the policy of both governments until the end of the war, and indeed had already laid the groundwork for future tensions between the two countries.
The United States’s greatest need for Brazil had already passed with the landings in North Africa at the end of 1942. Although Brazilian support was still needed in the war in the South Atlantic—and in the provision of critical war materials, like rubber—this support wasn’t nearly vital enough for Washington to accept the idea of a full partnership with Rio. Aranha’s hope that the United States would help Brazil achieve its goal of regional hegemony in exchange for Brazilian support in the war also appeared to be far-fetched. Despite the anger the US State Department—especially Secretary of State Cordell Hull—felt toward Argentina, in 1943, Washington made few signals that it was willing to formally endorse the Brazilian quest for regional dominance over its longtime rival, Argentina.
While the United States and Brazil would continue to develop economic, military, and political ties throughout 1943, their relationship was becoming more and more imbalanced. The smiles, the handshakes, and the regular warm exchange of messages between Roosevelt and Vargas cannot obscure the simple reality that from 1943 on, Brazil needed the United States far more than the United States needed Brazil. It is curious, then, that Aranha was so willing to tip his hand to the United States at a time when Brazil had lost much of the strategic value it had had at the end of 1941—and when it was in far less of a position to achieve its lofty objectives than it once had been.
One American, at least, had lost none of his enthusiasm for the Brazilian-US partnership. Nelson Rockefeller and his agency, the office of the coordinator of inter-American affairs, were becoming increasingly central to the efforts of the United States to develop ties with Brazil. Yet Rockefeller was also torn between his business in Brazil and his affairs back in the United States. In 1943, Rockefeller had one eye on the development of economic and cultural links with Brazil, and the other on the expansion of his own powerbase among the key policy makers in the Roosevelt administration. It is impossible to divorce these two aims, as Rockefeller appeared willing to use all of his personal and business connections to help facilitate the projects he supported. The ostensible failure of the Orson Welles film project of the previous year didn’t dissuade Rockefeller from endorsing new cultural projects. He was still in charge of the creation and dissemination of US propaganda in South America, and believed that he could best propagandize by exporting US culture to the region.
This was not a one-way cultural effort. Rockefeller introduced the Brazilian singer Carmen Miranda to a US audience, and she became a huge overnight sensation in the United States. Rockefeller, who sat on the board of the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) in New York, encouraged the museum to exhibit Brazilian artists for the first time and to sponsor US artists’ exhibitions in Rio. Rockefeller also persuaded a reluctant Solomon R. Guggenheim to help set up scholarships for Brazilians, and he tapped the Carnegie Foundation to fund similar programs and scholarships in the United States and Brazil.
There was never a better time to be a Brazilian artist, writer, or musician. The United States opened its doors to Brazilian culture during World War II in ways that it had never done for the citizens of any other country. Much of this was due to the drive and ambition of Nelson Rockefeller. Unsurprisingly given Rockefeller’s propulsive nature, he made many enemies in Washington, and felt that petty jealousies and interdepartmental rivalries got in his way. But as long as Rockefeller enjoyed the strong personal support of President Roosevelt, he was able to push the vast majority of his cultural program through.
Rockefeller was not the only famous American who traveled to Brazil to deepen cultural ties or to gather information for President Roosevelt. Other early crusaders to Rio included the Hollywood actors Errol Flynn and Douglas Fairbanks Jr. In June of 1940 Flynn, then at the height of his fame, visited Rio and stayed at the Copacabana Palace Hotel. He took part in a radio address during his stay, and also met with Vargas, of whom he formed a favorable impression. In a letter to President Roosevelt dated June 15, 1940, Flynn wrote that he was convinced Vargas was very much in favor of developing a Pan-American friendship.37
Douglas Fairbanks Jr. was a similar advocate of closer ties between the United States and Brazil. Fairbanks had been a vocal opponent of the American policy of isolationism since 1939, and Roosevelt personally authorized Fairbanks’s trip to Brazil—a reflection of the president’s latent agreement with that stance. The actor’s stated purpose for visiting Brazil was to research the state of US cinema there, but the real purpose of his trip was to investigate the alleged pro-Nazi tendencies of key members of the Vargas administration. Vargas granted Fairbanks a private meeting and extended him a warm welcome, but the highlight of the actor’s trip may well have been learning to samba with Alzira at a private party held in his honor.38 American intelligence carefully debriefed Fairbanks once he returned to the United States.
The US film director John Ford also traveled to Rio. In 1943, Ford made the trip to shoot a propaganda movie about Brazil’s contributions to the Allied war effort. The film was a stereotypical wartime propaganda short, with glowing references to the Vargas administration and the Brazilian armed forces, and tributes to Brazil for supplying wolfram—a rare, high-density metal that was used in the production of bullets and other projectiles—to the US war effort. The film also mentioned that the Brazilians had invited the US military to the north of Brazil to create new naval bases, which were vital staging posts for the US efforts in the Atlantic; it also touched on the controversial decision to put all Brazilian forces under the direct command of the Americans. This had been meant to impress the Americans, but it had the opposite effect. US political and military leaders viewed the decision as a sign of weakness, and felt that it reduced the respect that US officers in particular had for their senior Brazilian counterparts.
Ford’s film also highlighted the huge flow of Brazilian rubber to the United States, noting that Brazil had become its single largest supplier of rubber. And significantly, for all Rockefeller’s work to deepen cultural ties between the United States and Brazil, he is best remembered in Brazil for his role in the rubber trade—or rather, his role in protecting the people in it. President Vargas had given the order to recruit some thirty thousand “rubber soldiers” to work in Brazil’s rubber industries, with the goal of producing sixty thousand tons of rubber a year for sale to the Americans. However, the rubber industry was based in the Amazon Basin, and the plantations were rife with disease; many young men died working there. Rockefeller and his private foundation invested heavily in efforts to improve conditions in Brazil’s rubber-producing regions by introducing better sanitation technology and practices, and funding the development of vaccines for some of the diseases. The history of the “rubber soldiers” remains extremely controversial in Brazil, yet the tragedy had at least one positive legacy: to this day the Rockefeller Foundation continues to invest large amounts of money combating diseases in Brazil.
The rubber industry of Brazil during World War II was a stark reminder of how different things were in the country from its portrayal in John Ford’s propaganda film. On the surface, however, all appeared well with the rubber trade in 1943. Following a suggestion from Rockefeller’s office, President Vargas agreed to name June “rubber month” in Brazil. The aim of this public relations drive was to highlight the importance of the rubber trade for the US war effort and to illustrate the close cooperation between the Brazilian and US governments. In the decree announcing Rubber Month, Vargas declared to his fellow Brazilians:
Shoulder to shoulder with our Allies we shall lead our forces to final victory. However, before we obtain this objective an urgent task awaits us: we have to win the battle of production. Brazilians: with the same frankness that I have always addressed you I now ask for your loyal and determined cooperation on behalf of a campaign which commences today: the rubber campaign. You know how gigantic is the consumption of material in the present war. And among the essential and most urgently needed raw materials for the struggle we are engaged in, there are some that depend on us and to which we must dedicate all our efforts. This is the case with rubber, which is used in enormous quantities in the manufacture of nearly all war equipment.39
This was a carefully choreographed attempt to reassure the Americans that Brazil was doing all it could to increase rubber production, yet the plan backfired somewhat. Vargas was meant to read the proclamation in a radio broadcast on the evening of May 31, but eventually he delegated its delivery to the director of the department of press and propaganda (DIP).40
The use of the director of the DIP as proxy to announce Rubber Month irritated both Washington and the US embassy in Rio, and the fact that President Vargas gave no explanation for the last-minute change did not help matters. Eventually, President Vargas’s office offered a vague excuse: “The president,” his staff explained, “only returned late in the evening from an automobile tour in the state of Rio, which lasted a number of days and on which he was obliged to attend many inaugurations of public works.”41
As a result of its displeasure, the United States delayed the response it had prepared to Vargas’s statement. President Roosevelt finally replied in a letter to Vargas on June 19, 1943, thanking him for his efforts. Roosevelt wrote:
Your Excellency’s announcement that June will be observed as “Rubber Month” in Brazil reminds the people of the United States once again of the extraordinary contribution the Brazilian government and people are making to the cause of the United Nations in this instance through the “Battle of Rubber.” The personal interest you have shown in encouraging the intensification of rubber production is received in the United States as a symbol of the energy, vision, and goodwill, which have characterized the war polices of the Brazilian government and the activities of the Brazilian people. Each ton of rubber that Brazil can provide has an immediate important use in the United Nations production for war. Brazil already has made manifest in many ways its unwavering support of inter-American unity. We in the United States welcome this added proof of Brazilian determination to carry its great share of the fight of all the United Nations.42
Roosevelt’s letter, which was released to the press, was intended to refocus attention on the positive elements of the expansion of the rubber program—the contribution it made to the United States war effort—and away from the hideous toll it was taking on the Brazilian people who labored on the rubber plantations.
Indeed, prior to Rubber Month it was clear that not everything was going as planned in the joint US-Brazilian drive to increase rubber production. The United States reported that some twenty thousand people had been moved into the Amazon Basin during the first part of 1943 in an attempt to boost the plantations’ output, but that it was difficult to assess the impact of this increased manpower on production. American officials warned that, as they put it, “war conditions have made it impossible to carry out fully the original schedule, coastline shipping having been stopped for a period, river boats ordered for the Amazon were delayed in being delivered, and other unforeseen circumstances have interfered.”43
Rubber Month was also intended to combat popular disaffection with the Brazilian rubber industry. Posters were placed in Rio and other Brazilian cities making the case for increased rubber production.44 Radio programs and even a short film were made. An appeal was issued in the United States for its citizens to collect and recycle scrap rubber.45 Finally, newspaper articles in both Brazil and the United States highlighted the importance of rubber production to the Allied war effort.46
The United States was extremely pleased with the Brazilian press’s coverage of Rubber Month.47 The Brazilian news media, which in 1943 remained much more tightly controlled by the state than its US counterpart, did not focus on any of the negative aspects of the policy of increased rubber production in the Amazon. The response of the US press had not been so easy to control. As part of Rubber Month, Time magazine published an article on the subject of Brazilian rubber production, reflecting on a number of criticisms of the industry. Yet tellingly, these arguments focused less on the human costs of Brazilian rubber production than they did on the potential economic threat it represented.
The central thrust of the Time article—a point of view taken by several other news agencies in the United States—was that the ongoing US program to synthesize rubber would allow US rubber producers to compete with Brazilian rubber plantations.48 The magazine claimed that the annual production per man in synthetic rubber would be sixty tons, whereas the average production of a native rubber gatherer was only one hundred and fifty pounds.49 The article went on to suggest that even on the most efficient plantations the total production per man per year would not exceed one ton.50
The accuracy of these figures could not be verified, but they—and the broader argument of which they formed a part—caused a huge amount of concern at the top of the power structure in Brazil, and even threatened to undermine the cozy relationship between the United States and Brazil’s rubber industry. As the rubber development corporation complained, the Time magazine piece “brought out considerable unfavorable comment on the rubber program in the sense that as soon as the war was over there would be no need for Brazilian crude rubber, and that Brazil would be left high and dry again for a market.”51 The complaint suggested that there were several Brazilian high officials who were dubious about the long-term value of the rubber program, and some Brazilians felt that the United States might not be as interested as it was in carrying out the rubber agreements it had made with Brazil.52 Yet the rubber program remained a largely hidden controversy in greater Brazil. The tightly controlled state press made it easy enough for the Vargas administration to maintain a veil of secrecy over the appalling working conditions that laborers in the Amazon experienced.
Even as Brazil tried to maximize its returns from its alliance with the United States, the country’s leaders were realizing that their contributions to the Allied war effort were not as great as they had initially thought. Delivering rubber and other strategic goods to the Allies allowed Brazil to play an important part in the war effort, yet it would not, on its own, secure Brazil an equitable partnership with the United States, or convince the United States to back Brazil’s bid for hegemony in South America.
Rio had only one card left to play, and it was the best in its hand: Brazil could make an active military contribution to the Allied war effort by sending it soldiers overseas to join the fight. Aranha understood that sending such a force was in all probability the only chance left for Brazil to achieve the aims that had been outlined in the document he had shown to Caffery, which he had discussed with him, Admiral Ingram, and General Walsh over dinner that humid evening in early 1943.