Latin America’s Role in the Global Order, 1961–1964
STELLA KREPP
In the run-up to the first meeting of nonaligned states, set to take place in Belgrade in late 1961, the Brazilian ambassador to Egypt succinctly described Brazil’s position as follows: “Even though some of the stands taken until now in the name of positive neutralism correspond to the guidelines of Brazil’s independent foreign policy,” he conceded, “the special situation of Brazil on the American continent and in the world means that many other theses that have been proposed … do no coincide with our national interests.”1 This noncommittal, ambivalent attitude towards the Non-Aligned Movement (NAM) was characteristic not only of Brazil, but of Latin America in general.
Although Brazilians acknowledged the existence of common goals such as development and the renegotiation of the global economic order, Latin American countries apart from Cuba neglected to take a leading role in the NAM during the 1960s, and Brazil provides an illuminating example of this uneasy relationship. Through the case of Brazil, the present chapter will examine three key issues: Latin American membership, the meaning of nonalignment, and distinct notions of a “third way.”
Drawing on Brazilian and U.S. documents, the chapter will show how Brasília sought to leverage its independent foreign policy toward participation in the first two meetings of the NAM in 1961 and 1964, with the ultimate goal of bringing Latin America into the Third World. Not a mere bystander, the Brazilian government engaged with nonaligned members on a bilateral level as well as in the United Nations, most notably about the creation of the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD).
In 1961 and 1962, the Brazilian government actively engaged with the NAM and identified potential partners such as Yugoslavia, but this trend terminated in 1964. Political watersheds in Brazil and Latin America—the polarization of politics, the isolation of Cuba, and the overthrow of the democratic Goulart government by a military coup in 1964—meant a turn away from NAM membership. Tracing this process highlights that domestic and regional contexts had a strong impact on how Brazilian officials related to nonaligned concerns and underscores the “historicity of Third World internationalism” described by Jeffrey Byrne.2 The present study means to contribute to a new wave of scholarship on the NAM, improving on a narrative that used to focus too exclusively on the figureheads of nonalignment—Jawaharlal Nehru, Gamal Abdel Nasser, and Josip Broz Tito—and often limited itself to the discursive analysis of nonaligned rhetoric instead of dealing more broadly with foreign policy.3
The exclusive focus on the architects of the NAM and their ideas has led to neglect of less central actors and themes, among them Latin American participation in the movement. Although some Latin American countries formed part of the NAM and actively participated in its conferences, the region has largely been ignored by scholars interested in the Third World. With the notable exceptions of James G. Hershberg’s article on Brazil at the Belgrade meeting and Vanni Pettinà’s work on Mexico,4 research on Latin American relationship to nonalignment remains uncharted territory to this day. Even Cuba’s role as an influential member and later leader of the NAM has attracted comparatively little research, owing to the fact that for a long time, Cuban archives were closed but for a few.5
This is not to argue that Latin American countries played a central role in the movement. Except for Cuba, they did not in the 1960s. However, a study of the role of Brazil’s NAM policy can provide an answer to the question of how to situate Latin America in the history of the Third World, a history otherwise dominated by decolonization and Afro-Asian solidarity. The case of Brazil raises the question of whether the organizing principles of the 1960s—which intimately link the Third World with decolonization and racial solidarity—inform or obscure our understanding of the historical processes of the time. Ultimately, it asks how to inscribe Latin America in the history of the Third World.
Traditionally, the history of Brazil is presented as separate from that of Hispanic America.6 Brazil, because of its distinct colonial experience as part of the Portuguese empire and its subsequent transformation into a monarchy and only much later into a republic, is supposed to differ substantially in language, culture, and political institutions from its Spanish-speaking neighbors. African slavery and the plantation system in Brazil also had a deep impact and resulted in a multiracial and multiethnic society. However, since the mid-1950s Brazil had risen to become a regional power in Latin America. This marked a departure from its traditional role as mediator between Washington and Hispanic America toward a more committed and integrative relationship with the rest of Latin America.7 In sum, Brazil became Latin Americanized during the 1950s.8
At the same time, Brazil was becoming increasingly aware of its position as a Third World nation, prompting rapprochement with other Third World countries, particularly in Africa. This shift in political allegiance, initiated in 1958, eventually culminated in Brazil’s “independent foreign policy” and the flirtation with neutrality under Kubitschek’s successor Jânio Quadros from 1961 onward. In this pursuit, Brazil was not so different from other reformist governments in the region—Mexico, Argentina, or Bolivia—to name but a few. This is why the Brazilian prism helps us to relate the wider Latin American story of these formative years.
The 1950s were a decisive decade not only for Brazil, but also for Latin America as a whole. Under the pressure of severe social and economic problems, Latin American leaders began to turn toward newly independent postcolonial states; they discovered structural similarities with these countries, but also considered them rivals in the global competition for the attention of the First World. With most Latin America nations having achieved independence in the early nineteenth century, the region differed in this respect from the newly independent and postcolonial states that emerged in Africa and Asia in the 1960s. Due to this historical legacy, political and institutional structures in Latin America were comparatively sophisticated. Brazil, for example, could boast a professional diplomatic service, a network of universities, and a semi-industrialized economy. At least in its self-image, Brazil was starting out on a different level.9
Another difficulty in identifying with the Third World came from the fact that Latin American elites, predominantly white, considered themselves as an offshoot of European culture and entrenched members of “Western Christian civilization.” For Brazil, this attitude translated into a “political and racial democracy” that shared liberal values, Christian beliefs, and an admiration for European culture.10 The Brazilians argued that their country’s unique position was rooted in its singular political and historical trajectory. Consequently, Brazilian policymakers were very hesitant about where Brazil would fit into this changing world order.11 While they defined themselves as Western, albeit an alternative version, they had been excluded from the official West in the early postwar years, as well as from NATO and a closer alliance with Europe. Yet, they likewise fitted uneasily into the category of the emerging Third World as they often struggled with the postcolonial agenda of the NAM.
The shift in Brazilian foreign policy toward the Eastern bloc and nonaligned countries was initiated during the presidency of Juscelino Kubitschek, who came to power in 1956. In 1958, Itamaraty (the Brazilian foreign ministry) opened trade negotiations with a range of countries in Eastern Europe—Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Hungary—as well as with the German Democratic Republic. And despite U.S. protestations, Kubitschek reestablished trade relations with the Soviet Union in late 1959. This repositioning was not only ideologically motivated: Brazilian policymakers were very concerned about the creation of the European Common Market and its repercussions on the commercial expansion of Latin America.12 Thus, as political options with traditional partners were closing off, new partnerships had to be sought. The policy shift was first and foremost motivated by a need to diversify Brazil’s economic base and economic relationships both regionally and globally.13 Yet, Kubitschek also wanted to position his country as a “mediator between first and third world,” and he expressed aspirations to make it a leader in the rather amorphous group of emerging Third World countries. The country’s history and the fact that it was comparatively advanced, Brazilian officials reasoned, singled it out as an ideal candidate to play this role. After all, Brazil‘s role in its region was “in a way analogous to that of India in Asia.”14
In 1961, the newly elected Brazilian President Jânio Quadros continued this trajectory when he announced an “independent foreign policy.”15 Even though his presidency was to be short-lived, his attempt to reorient Brazilian foreign policy both on the regional and the global stages would have long-term consequences. In pursuing relations with the Soviet Union and socialist countries, particularly Yugoslavia, and approaching newly independent African countries, Quadros raised questions about Brazil’s traditional alignment with the United States and Portugal.
One such forum to forge new relationships and devise a new policy agenda was the NAM. Despite showing interest in nonaligned concerns, Brazil never assumed formal membership in the NAM. For this reason, scholars have often erroneously assumed that Latin Americans were all but absent from NAM debates. This is far from true. Although Latin American countries did not make it into the official record due to their observer status (with the obvious exception of Cuba as a full member), Brazilian delegations attended the 1955 Bandung conference, as well as the 1961 Belgrade and the 1964 Cairo conferences. Itamaraty also sent observers to the preparatory conferences of Cairo in June 1961 and Colombo in March 1964, respectively. Unlike the actual NAM conferences, which tended to serve as a public platform and made a show of consensus, the preparatory conferences were the locus of agenda-setting where fundamental questions of membership were debated and political landmark decisions were made. This is why Brazilian attendance at the preparatory conferences is significant.
Despite glaring differences, Brazil shared many concerns with official NAM member states: the struggle for economic development and a fairer global economic system, disarmament, denuclearization, and the peaceful settlement of conflicts. The idea of the mediating role of the NAM as a peace broker dovetailed with Brazilian aspirations and its self-image as a regional power. Moreover, the peaceful settlement of conflicts had been a hallowed Inter-American principle for decades.
Lofty proclamations aside, nonalignment offered tangible benefits. In the case of Brazil, it provided an opportunity not only to expand economic relations, but also to form strategic relationships with the purpose of tackling economic underdevelopment and reforming the United Nations. The NAM was particularly useful for forging alliances that would advance Latin American interests in the United Nations and other international organizations, such as the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank, something that had been tried in vain for more than a decade. As Vanni Pettinà has argued regarding Mexico, nonalignment also emerged as a way to win concessions, mainly from the United States.16 Brazilian officials viewed it as a way to keep the Cold War at bay and to prevent the superpowers from interfering in internal affairs. However, the very pragmatic political approach of Brazil was often at odds with more ideologically driven debates in the NAM.
Despite a measure of convergence, the situation of Latin American countries was undoubtedly quite different from that of recently decolonized nations in Africa and Asia: the Inter-American system constituted a primary political alliance, and these nations were tied to the United States through the Rio Treaty, a mutual defense pact. Moreover, while some objectives of the NAM, most notably those related to development, were of central interest to them, they never perceived the NAM as their most important political forum. Brazilian officials insisted that Inter-American duties came first: “We are members of the OAS [Organization of American States], and signatories of international agreements that align us unequivocally to this Inter-American regional system, with all the rights and duties that it entails.”17 The Americas had a fully functioning regional system that, despite its drawbacks, provided a forum for vital debates and, crucially, political opportunities to extract concessions from the United States. As such, it would always take precedent over other political communities.
Given Brazil’s place in the Inter-American System, its policymakers did not seriously consider a full-fledged membership in the NAM. During those years, Brazil played a pivotal role in the Inter-American System as it took up the leadership in the struggle for political and economic integration as well as for consolidating democratic values in the region. In 1960, a Latin American free trade area was created by the Montevideo Treaty. Although the project would ultimately fail, it showed intensive Latin American efforts to provide regional solutions to the global challenge of economic and political inequality.
As elsewhere in Latin America, Brazil’s relationship with the United States also influenced its approach to nonaligned debates. Only months before the first Non-Aligned conference in Belgrade in September 1961, and after a decade of sustained efforts on the part of Brazil, the American nations had officially inaugurated the Alliance for Progress, a hemispheric aid program funded by the United States. From the beginning, Latin American politicians, who ironically dubbed this aid “Fidel’s money,”18 were painfully aware that it came at a political price. In April 1961, the Kennedy administration had aided and abetted the Bay of Pigs invasion in Cuba. This move made abundantly clear what would happen if a Latin American country dared to challenge the United States in the space it considered the American sphere. In other words, one could rattle at the gates of containment, and even try to expand political room for maneuver by bending them, but a political realignment was never an option for Brazil.
This was not just pandering to U.S. wishes but pragmatic calculation. Brazil understood political alignment and envisioned a sort of neutrality in ways that conflicted with more radical views held by countries such as Cuba, Ghana, and Indonesia. Overall, Brazilian foreign policy was driven less by Cold War rationale than by internal debates on Brazil’s place in a changing world. Nonalignment in Brazil was an economic rather than a political project. While Brazilian politicians could identify with an “economic Third World” centered on underdevelopment, they were definitely at odds with the idea of a shared cultural or political community.
In 1961, the Belgrade conference marked the formal birth of the NAM. Locating its ideological roots, however, has proven to be more complicated. Some scholars perceive the Belgrade conference as a successor to the 1955 Bandung conference of Afro-Asian states, yet the connection is tenuous at best.19 In Bandung, participants had sought to position recently independent nations between the blocs. They professed political nonalignment, mutual respect for each other’s territorial integrity and sovereignty, mutual nonaggression, and peaceful coexistence and disarmament, and at the same time demanded a political say in international matters. Yet, while Bandung had been attended mainly by Afro-Asian states, Belgrade was headed by Josip Broz Tito from Yugoslavia, Gamal Abdel Nasser from the United Arab Republic, and, much more hesitantly, Jawaharlal Nehru from India. These leaders envisioned a more inclusive and moderate movement that should cover wide swaths of the Third World, including Latin America. Bandung and Belgrade thus represented both overlapping and competing agendas for a Third World project.
When Tito approached the Brazilian government in 1961 with the idea of a Non-Aligned conference, its first reaction was a mix of keen interest and hesitation. Although generally favorable to the idea of a Non-Aligned conference and appreciative of Tito’s and Nasser’s endeavors, since they overlapped in part with the “independent foreign policy” of the Quadros government, Brazilian officials remained somewhat puzzled about what that nonalignment actually entailed. This was no surprise as the main proponents of nonalignment were themselves still squabbling over its meaning.
Despite these misgivings, the Brazilians were prepared and willing to engage with nonalignment. The Foreign Ministry sent an observer on an exploratory mission to the preparatory conference that took place in Cairo from 5 to 12 June. Beside Cuba, Brazil was the only other Latin American country to attend, and the ambassador to the United Arab Republic, Araújo Castro was appointed as official observer.20
In his detailed reports from the preparatory conference, Araújo Castro remarked that the principle obstacle faced by Latin American countries was the insistence of the hosts that only “nonaligned” countries could participate in the Belgrade conference. But he confessed that this “nonaligned” status remained unclear: it could “refer to the so-called ‘active neutralism’ practiced by certain Afro-Asian countries” or it could include “those states that, contrary to the members of NATO [the North Atlantic Treaty Organization] and the Warsaw Pact, have no direct military commitments,” he explained.21 The Latin American countries complied with the latter criterion, but clearly violated the former.
It was even more mind-boggling, Araújo Castro noted, that nonalignment was not to be confused with the politics of neutrality.22 To complicate matters further, neutralism in Brazil and Latin America had different values that resulted from historical experience. It could mean the neutrality of Latin American countries during World War II, as well as policies more along the line of the Peronist policy of equidistance (or third position), or an independent neutral policy like the one espoused by Quadros.
Semantic debates aside, a wholehearted commitment to the Non-Alignment Movement was out of the question, because Latin American countries were clearly aligned with the United States in the Inter-American System, the Brazilians argued. “It is not possible for Brazil to participate directly,” given its status, Araújo Castro warned in a report sent as late as May 1961.23
Even when applying a flexible interpretation of nonalignment to accommodate distinct political notions and convictions, nonalignment precluded membership in military alliances such as NATO and the Warsaw Pact. Latin American countries, without being formal members of a military alliance, were aligned with the United States as members of the Inter-American System. To make things worse, all twenty Latin American countries had ratified the Rio Treaty, a hemispheric defense pact, and most had bilateral military agreements with the United States. So, while Latin Americans were not in a formal military alliance, they were part of a regional defense mechanism with the United States. Araújo Castro accurately described this dilemma when conceding that Brazil “is not neutral, ideologically it forms part of the West.” But, on the other hand, not being a signatory of NATO, Brazil was not part of the “Western bloc” and, whereas Brazil’s commitments in the Inter-American System came first, “Brazil was not aligned against anyone, but aligned for the defense of the hemisphere.”24
He also expressed his uneasiness about the upcoming Belgrade agenda. The resolutions that were expected at Belgrade, Araújo Castro cautioned, will have a “strong flavor of anticolonial radicalism,” which would be difficult for Brazil to accept. In comparison to the more radical countries, Brazil seemed “timid and indecisive,” despite the recent inauguration of its independent foreign policy. Maybe, Araújo Castro wondered, it was “preferable to be the most advanced element of a conservative current than to be the most timid and reactionary element in an assembly of radicals.”25
In fact, there was no need for such exhausting cogitations: Non-Aligned leaders such as Tito, Nasser, and Nehru publicly endorsed Latin American participation, and reassured Latin Americans that the Rio Treaty was not a hindrance. Belgrade was not to be a second Bandung; Tito’s and Nasser’s objective was to broaden the pool of prospective members. They were particularly keen on Brazil’s attendance as a moderating influence and on the grounds of very pragmatic considerations. Since Brazil was a political heavyweight in Latin America and an experienced diplomatic actor, its attendance would lend a certain cachet to the conference. Nonaligned leaders also deemed Brazil an easier political partner than what they perceived as a volatile Cuba. And when it came to more material issues such as furthering trade, Cuba had little to offer.
Tito, in particular, lobbied for Latin American participation, expressing the hope as late as July 1961 that President Quadros himself would attend, because, without Brazil or Mexico, major countries of the continent would not be represented; in this context “Cuba did not count.”26 In conversation with U.S. Ambassador George F. Kennan on the island of Brioni in July, Tito reiterated that “Yugoslavia would be very unhappy if Cuba turned out to be the only Latin American country to be represented.”27 Two weeks later, Kennan reported that the Yugoslavs were seriously displeased with the U.S. opposition to Latin American attendance, a move that amounted in their eyes to a boycott of the conference.
Washington had argued that membership in the Rio Treaty precluded a potential participation of Latin American states in the NAM. However, when the Kennedy government attempted to exert pressure on the Brazilian government, President Quadros publicly attacked the American Ambassador John Moors Cabot for “meddling” in Brazil’s internal affairs.28 This spat with the Kennedy administration played mainly to domestic audiences, to show them that the Brazilian government was now following a truly independent policy. But it also meant that Brazil had to attend in some form to save face.
Whereas relations between Washington and Brasília were souring, Yugoslavia and Brazil were on relatively good terms. In 1959, the Yugoslav government had funded a trade mission to Latin America in order to explore the potential for developing economic relations. The mission ultimately yielded few results because Brazil considered Yugoslav products as substandard, but it did provide a basis for improved relations. In mid-1961, President Quadros extended an invitation to Tito for an official state visit and expressed interest in closer cooperation. Yugoslavia was selected as the most likely political partner among the nonaligned, one that Brazil saw eye to eye with in a way it could not with recently decolonized countries of Asia and Africa. Neither Yugoslavia nor Brazil fit into that nonaligned mold, and they shared certain superficial similarities: while Tito wished Yugoslavia to be a bridge between the West and the East, Brazil vied to become the link between the First and the Third Worlds.
Although Cuba was adamant about inviting only “truly neutralist countries,” it was willing to make an exception in the case of its Latin American neighbors, endorsing the participation of Mexico, Bolivia, Ecuador, and Brazil.29 Much to his chagrin, Araújo Castro actually had to fend off overtures by the Cuban foreign minister, Raúl Roa, at the preparatory meeting. He was certainly dumbstruck when Roa announced that he had it on good authority that the Brazilian President Jânio Quadros himself would attend the forthcoming conference, along with representatives from several Latin American countries. Abandoning his strict observer position, Araújo Castro intervened: “I cannot permit anyone in this room, even the Foreign Minister of a sister nation, to speak for Brazil.”30 The truth was that while the Brazilian government was still deliberating whether to send a delegation to Belgrade, from the beginning, a visit by Quadros had been out of the question. In a later private talk, Roa confided that the aim of his lie had been to “neutralize actions by Ghana, Guinea, and Mali,” which had urged to restrict membership, but that posturing did not endear him to the Brazilians and certainly raised eyebrows elsewhere. On the same day, Yugoslav Ambassador Rato Dugonjic approached Araújo Castro to express his support, confessing that he would have reacted the same way. “We want to know what Brazil thinks but we want to know it from Brazil.”31
In fact, these skirmishes hinted at a tug of war about who should represent the Latin American voice in the NAM: a radical, pro-Soviet Cuba or a reformist and democratic Brazil. Both Brazil and Cuba laid claim to this role because it lent legitimacy and status to their political actions. The clash between two ideological currents—Third Worldist nationalism and internationalism—was to persist in Latin American engagements with the Third World project in the coming decades.
Yet the organizers of Belgrade clearly favored Brazil over Cuba, as they harbored little sympathy for Castro. The moderates were able to secure invitations for Latin American countries, but the “the elimination of European countries” lobbied for by Cuba, Ghana, Guinea, and Mali could not be averted—a situation that underscored the rifts behind the scenes even before Belgrade.32
African countries had a much more critical view of Brazilian participation. While Brazilian diplomats paid lip service to antiracism and anticolonialism in international relations, there was no denying Brazil’s “dismal record in the UN regarding colonialism,” as Araújo Castro himself conceded. Since the creation of the United Nations, the Brazilian delegation, with one sole exception, had either voted against resolutions condemning colonialism or abstained. Brazil had not been any more vocal about condemning South African apartheid or racial segregation generally.33 Despite Gilberto Freyre’s proclamation of Brazil as a “racial democracy,” the country remained a racially stratified society: its diplomats and politicians alike hailed from the Brazilian white elite, who considered themselves to be culturally and racially superior to their African and Asian counterparts.34
The story of the first Afro-Brazilian ambassador is edifying here. In 1961, Quadros opened the first sub-Saharan embassy in Accra, Ghana, and appointed his press aide, Raymundo Souza Dantas, an Afro-Brazilian, as ambassador. At that time, the Itaramaty was still almost exclusively white. Souza Dantas’ mission was a resounding failure, a “doomed mission” in his own words.35 Sousa Dantas relates how he was ostracized by the Itamaraty and snubbed by his own staff at the embassy. Even as he was forced to portray Brazil as a racial democracy, which he blatantly felt was not true, his appointment was also criticized in Ghana. João Clemente Baena Soares, head of the Africa Division of the Itamaraty, later recalled that Kwame Nkrumah angrily chided the Quadros government for sending a black ambassador to Africa, a move he considered to be racist. “He should send a black ambassador to Sweden—that would not be racist,” he allegedly commented.36
African diplomats warned that the test would be the actual votes of Brazil in the United Nations and its stance on the cases of Angola, Congo, and Algeria. If Brazil wished to tighten its relationship with new African countries, Araújo Castro cautioned, it would therefore be “tantamount to abandoning our traditional policies towards France and Portugal.” In order to develop a bond with nonaligned nations, Brazil would need to overhaul its attitude toward European colonialism and consider “situating Brazil in the world and defining a Brazilian policy” within a global context.37 Yet, neither the Brazilian government nor the Foreign Ministry was willing to rethink foreign policy radically.
After much deliberation, Itamaraty decided to send an observer to the Belgrade conference. Wary that that their attendance might be misconstrued by the “propaganda of a few Neutral leaders” as being a full-fledged membership, according to the Brazilian ambassador to Yugoslavia, Itamaraty embarked on a last-minute attempt to convince some of its Latin American neighbors to “deflect and diminish the ire of some US officials.”38 Brazilian officials sent out messages to other Latin American governments to entice them to attend as well. But this attempt to rally a Latin American bloc to attend failed and, in the end, only Ecuador and Bolivia joined the Belgrade conference that took place from 1 to 6 September. In Belgrade, in turn, the halfhearted Latin American participation disappointed and disillusioned its hosts, who began doubting whether courting the Latin Americans was worth the time and effort.
Ultimately, the Belgrade conference was overshadowed by the resignation of President Jânio Quadros on 25 August 1961. Thereafter the political situation was confusing, as military forces were conspiring to frustrate the ascent to power of Vice President João Goulart, because of his alleged leftist sympathies. The turmoil would last until 8 September, when a political compromise was found between the military and the Congress, allowing Goulart to assume the presidency—albeit with reduced executive powers and with the military biding their time in the shadows.
After much hesitation, the Itamaraty finally appointed an official observer, the ambassador to Switzerland, Afrânio de Melo Franco. However, when he arrived in Belgrade, more trouble was awaiting. One hour before the opening of the conference, Yugoslav officials informed him that he was no longer officially accredited after Quadros’s resignation. Not only was Brazil disinvited, Melo Franco angrily reported, but the hosts even went to such “extremes of idiocy and indelicacy” as to remove the Brazilian flag.39 It eventually transpired that the Cuban delegation under President Dórticos had urged the withdrawal of accreditation, charging that Quadros’s resignation had been instigated by a military coup and pointblank refusing to recognize the new government. Somewhat embarrassed, Yugoslav officials assured Melo Franco that he was welcome to attend, but only in the capacity of a private observer. Virtually excluded in the first days of the conference, while feverishly trying to resolve the crisis, the Brazilian delegation could not meaningfully engage in nonaligned debates. After an appeal and secret deliberations, Brazil was finally (re)admitted as an official observer, but this episode put the experience in Belgrade in a negative light and severely tarnished Brazil’s relationship with Cuba. Brazil, as the ringleader of the “soft six” had tried to shield Cuba from sanctions in the Inter-American System; it therefore considered this Cuban maneuver not only as backstabbing, but also as proof of the mercurial temper of the Cuban regime.
Brazil’s engagement with nonalignment had not been off to an auspicious start. The political turmoil after Quadros’s resignation forced the Goulart government to pay close attention to domestic policies in an increasingly polarized Brazil, which was amidst a deepening economic crisis. At the same time, nonalignment took a new direction in which the “nonaligned movement vied with Afro-Asianism as the primary organizing principle in Third World affairs.”40 This had a direct impact on Latin American participation. An Afro-Asian solidarity movement that defined itself explicitly as nonwhite and postcolonial complicated Latin American inclusion.
This situation intersected with feuds between the Soviet Union and China, on the one hand, and China and India, on the other. In 1962, China started to wage “a determined propaganda campaign in Africa that portrayed the Soviet Union as being every bit as neo-imperial as the United States.”41 Seeking to marginalize the Soviet Union, as well as Yugoslavia, the Chinese attempted to define the Third World along racial lines. Even though this recasting of the movement as a racial war ultimately failed, it fueled years of controversial, bitter debates.42
Hoping to drive a wedge between the Soviet Union and the Afro-Asian bloc during the Afro-Asian Peoples Solidarity Organization (AAPSO) conference in Tanganyika in March 1963, the Chinese pronounced that “as whites the Russians are going to back the other whites, but we are coloreds and your blood brothers.”43 While some nonaligned members angrily rejected this heavy-handed interference, the Chinese were ultimately successful in securing the exclusion of delegates and observers from “Russia’s Eastern European satellites, plus Yugoslavia.”44
The Latin Americans were not invited either, because “while many African delegates [were] sympathetic to Cuba, they [were] not interested in expansion of AAPSO to include large number of whites [sic],” U.S. sources surmised.45 Representatives of the Latin American Conference for National Sovereignty, Economic Emancipation and Peace, a leftist group close to Castro, protested indignantly at being denied admission. Appalled by the Chinese attempts to sow discord, Kwame Nkrumah reminded his peers at the AAPSO meeting in September 1963 in Nicosia, Cyprus, that “we are fighting not against race, creed, or color. We are fighting against an economic system which is designed to exploit us and to keep us in a state of perpetual subjection.” Thus, he urged, “Afro-Asian solidarity should be reinforced with firm links embracing Latin-American states” because progressive forces existed all around the world.46
The Cuban question also contributed to driving a wedge between Latin America and the Afro-Asian movement. Despite Brazilian resistance, Cuba was excluded from the Inter-American System by a controversial decision in early 1962. Major Latin American countries—next to Brazil, Argentina, Mexico, Colombia, Ecuador, and Bolivia—had abstained from this vote and continued diplomatic and economic relations with Cuba. However, Cuban support for guerrilla activities in the region not only incensed right-wing dictatorships in the Caribbean, but also alienated democratic governments in Latin America. Cuban rhetoric and financial and military support threatened to destabilize fraught political coalitions and aggravated political polarization in Latin American societies.
The harsher the drive to isolate and punish Cuba became within Latin America, the more Latin American countries faced opposition within the NAM. Cuba’s furious attacks against the United States and Latin American countries, in the forum of the AAPSO as well as in that of the NAM, often met with success. During the AAPSO meeting of March 1963, Afro-Asian nations demanded that Latin American governments stop the “economic blockade illegally forced upon Cuba by North American imperialists.”47 Depicted as stooges of the United States, Latin American countries increasingly came under attack. Whereas some Non-Aligned members took care to distinguish between those that had backed Cuban sanctions and those that had rejected them, many others did not take it into account. The debates on Cuba and an increasingly racialized notion of the Third World made it clear that under the veneer of Third World solidarity, a fundamental mistrust of Latin Americans and their objectives remained. Their professed cultural admiration for everything European, their European heritage, and the fact that they were recipients of U.S. funds through the Alliance for Progress made Latin Americans suspicious in Afro-Asian eyes. In many ways, thus, moderate governments such as Brazil’s that advocated for conciliation were caught in the middle of ideological battles.
By 1964 the tide had turned. In Latin America, from the Argentine coup in 1962 onward, democratic governments were toppled one after another by a wave of coups d’état that swept bureaucratic-authoritarian regimes into power. The 1964 coup in Brazil topped the high-water mark.48 In March that year, the Brazilian military overthrew the democratically elected Goulart government. The new military government under Castello Branco pursued a staunch anti-Communist line and adopted a foreign policy that dovetailed with U.S. political interests in Western Hemisphere affairs. As Foreign Minister Juracy Magelhães glibly noted in 1966: “What is good for the United States is good for Brazil.”49 The diplomats whose action had been crucial in the formulation of the Brazilian independent foreign policy of the early 1960s were forced to leave after the military coup. With the military in power, the leverage of security agencies, such as the Serviço Nacional de Informações (SNI, National Intelligence Service) increased. As a civilian ministry, the Itamaraty, in turn, lost some of its influence. This change in the political climate of Brazil affected its stance with regard to nonalignment.
Shortly after the coup, the Brazilian regime broke diplomatic relations with Cuba and helped push through economic sanctions against the Castro regime. In July 1964, the OAS mandated that all American states—including those that had not done so previously—sever diplomatic ties and “suspend all their trade”—a move that amounted to full-scale economic sanctions.50 Although some were against the embargo, they followed suit, because resolutions under the Rio Treaty were binding. Thus, with the notable exception of Mexico, Cuba was now economically and politically ostracized within Latin America.
The years since 1961 had also brought major changes within the NAM. The original twenty-five members at Belgrade had nearly doubled to forty-six member-states. The number of observers had also sharply risen from three to ten, most of them representing Latin American countries. As African states gained in numbers, the NAM took a more radical direction. Since 1961 the movement had continuously “shifted to the left,” as a U.S. observer critically remarked.51 Particularly after the failure of a second Afro-Asian conference, the radical members regrouped in the Non-Aligned forum to pressure for their political interests. The Cold War had likewise turned “hot” again, with violent struggles in the Congo and the Portuguese colonies in Africa, as well as the Americanization of the Vietnam War.
With the new political climate in Brazil, and in Latin America more generally, the U.S. State Department nursed hopes that the Brazilian military government would opt out of attending Non-Aligned conferences. In the run-up to the Cairo conference, U.S. officials had been instructed to “discourage Hemisphere attendance,” yet to do so “quietly and discreetly, in order to minimize the possibility of criticism from the so-called ‘unaligned countries’ on the grounds that we are preventing the success of the conference.”52 Given that members of the Inter-American System, including the United States, were “bound together by a body of agreements,” Latin American participation was judged “incongruous,” especially given the “hemispheric ostracism of Cuba.”53 Intriguingly, Washington and Havana agreed on this point, as the Cuban delegate similarly charged that Latin American states did not meet the membership criterion, because they were “aligned with U.S. imperialist policy of subversion and world domination.”54
Originally, the Cairo conference had been scheduled before the UNCTAD that was to take place later that year. However, some scheduling problems frustrated the original aim to work out a unified unaligned position to better negotiate a reform of the global economic system during UNCTAD discussions. Instead, the UNCTAD coincided with the preparatory Non-Aligned meeting in Colombo. Despite Yugoslav and Indian endeavors to make economic development the central theme of Non-Alignment in years to come—an interpretation that particularly appealed to Latin Americans—they failed to dominate the political agenda in 1964. This came as a blow to Brazilians, for whom UNCTAD and the renegotiation of the global economic order had been a clear priority.
Although the regime change in Brazil was viewed critically, Non-Aligned leaders reached a compromise “to accept both Cuba and Brazil at Conference.”55 Brazil was eventually invited to attend the 1964 Cairo conference, and the military junta sent an observer. In addition to Brazil, invitations had been extended to another nine Latin American and Caribbean countries—Cuba, Jamaica, Trinidad and Tobago, Bolivia, Mexico, Chile, Uruguay, Venezuela, and Argentina—most of which sent only observers, not official delegations, possibly in deference to U.S. wishes. Cuba, however, had fiercely opposed Latin American attendance and had attempted to leverage the Preparatory Committee to counteract Latin American “maneuvers” and in particular to “unmask Venezuelan activities against the Cuban revolution.”56 This move was a payback for Venezuelans initiating OAS sanctions against Cuba, which were successful in July 1964.
This time around, the Brazilian diplomats were much more circumspect. Detailed communications before the Cairo conference from a range of embassies show how the NAM had alienated Brazilians. In June 1964, the ambassador in Cairo urged the Foreign Ministry to speak with other Latin American chancelleries to coordinate their policy, fearing that failing that, “one or few Latin American voices will be overwhelmed, totally, by the choir of Afro-Asians with an anti-Western ideological tendency.”57
In a lengthy report, Sérgio Armando Frazão, the recently appointed Brazilian ambassador to the United Arab Republic who doubled up as observer at the Cairo conference, cast a critical light on the debates. The focus on decolonization as “the first preoccupation of the Non-Aligned Movement” reflected the political priorities of African nations. The Non-Aligned forum had thus been reduced to “Afro-Asian questions.”58 The bigger idea of a “third force” had been sidelined in favor of shortsighted belligerent rhetoric, he noted. This “agitated flood of words” and radical demands made even a Non-Aligned pioneer such as Tito look like “a rancid conservative.”59 Many of the core themes of the Cairo conference—decolonization, antiracism and the rejection of Apartheid, as well as the struggle against “neocolonialism”—did not resonate with Brazilians.
Moreover, because of their alleged support of Cuban ostracism from the Inter-American System, Latin American members were attacked as “accomplices in the imperialist strategy” of the United States.60 As a result, a cultural rift emerged. Brazilian diplomats huffily commented that many of the Non-Aligned recommendations, such as the one on the peaceful settlement of conflicts, were nothing new and had actually been commonplace in Latin America for many decades. “There is a complete lack of knowledge of Latin American diplomatic traditions,” Armando Frazão reprovingly noted. In this confusion of “realities, ideas and generalizations” regarding Latin America, it was no surprise that misunderstandings ensued.61
Other Latin American observers shared the disappointment expressed by Brazil. A Mexican senator compared the meeting of foreign ministers that took place shortly before the actual conference to a “bad session [of the] Mexican Chamber of Deputies.”62 Even the representative of the newly independent Jamaica, Egerton Richardson, complained about African intransigence and blamed it for the deeply disappointing result of Cairo.63 Evaluating the Cairo conference in early 1965, the Ambassador of Trinidad and Tobago to the United States, Ellis Clarke, commented that the very aggressive, anti-European rhetoric of African states, which he described as “un-Western,” had opened a gap between African and West Indian nations.64
From the beginning, Brazil and Latin America had very uneasily fit into the postcolonial narrative of the NAM. African attacks on foreign investment as “neocolonialism” and increasingly angry rhetoric put Latin Americans off, as these attacks were in direct opposition to their efforts to develop and secure private and public capital under the Alliance for Progress. As Non-Aligned debates increasingly focused on the fight against colonialism, they felt more and more on the margins of the movement.
In the nascent phase of the NAM, Brazil had shown avid interest because the movement reflected its political concerns. By 1964, seismic shifts in Latin America and the radicalization of Non-Aligned politics meant that paths were diverging. Ultimately, the 1964 military coup and the subsequent rapprochement with the United States put an end to Brazilian flirtation with the NAM.
Brazilians actively participated in debates on a “third way,” but for them it was centered on economic development and the renegotiation of the global economic world order. As much as Brazilian elites talked about nonalignment, there was always a clear understanding that this was not a feasible political option for Brazil. They perceived themselves to be Western, both culturally and politically. Nonalignment for Brazilians, as for many other Latin American politicians, was about expanding their room for political maneuver vis-à-vis the United States.
Despite this divergence of interests, nonaligned themes continued to resonate in Brazil and had far-reaching repercussions. And Brazil’s engagement with nonalignment or wider Third World solidarity did play out in the nonaligned movement itself within the United Nations, in debates on UNCTAD, the group of 77, and the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries. In the end, this is where Brazilians felt they belonged: in an economic Third World.
1. Telegrama da Embaixada no Cairo, 20 May 1961, Documentos Sigilosos, Embaixadas A–K, 1960–61 (Box 47), Archive of the Brazilian Foreign Ministry (hereafter AMRE).
2. Jeffrey James Byrne, “Beyond Continents, Colours, and the Cold War: Yugoslavia, Algeria and the Struggle for Non-Alignment,” International History Review 37, no. 5 (2015): 912–32.
3. Robert Vitalis has argued for a new history of nonalignment that would replace “exaggerated accounts of metropolitan power and the indistinguishable portraits of Nasser, Nehru and Nkrumah” and instead “recognize the competing national state-building projects and regional state-systemic logics.” Robert Vitalis, “The Midnight Ride of Kwame Nkrumah and Other Fables of Bandung (Ban-doong),” Humanity 4, no. 2 (2013): 261–88. Nataša Miškovic, Harald Fischer-Tiné, and Nada Boškovska, eds., The Non-Aligned Movement and the Cold War: Delhi-Bandung-Belgrade (London: Routledge, 2014); Robert Rakove, Kennedy, Johnson, and the Nonaligned World (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014); Frank Gerits, “ ‘When the Bull Elephants Fight’: Kwame Nkrumah, Non-Alignment, and Pan-Africanism as an Interventionist Ideology in the Global Cold War (1957–66),” International History Review 37, no. 5 (2015): 951–69. Sandra Bott, Jussi M. Hanhimäki, Janick Marina Schaufelbuehl, and Marco Wyss, eds., Neutrality and Neutralism in the Global Cold War: Between or Within the Blocs? (London: Routledge, 2016); Vijay Prashad, The Darker Nations: A People’s History of the Third World (New York: New Press, 2007).
4. James G. Hershberg, “High-Spirited Confusion: Brazil, the 1961 Belgrade Non-Aligned Conference, and the Limits of an ‘Independent’ Foreign Policy during the High Cold War,” Cold War History 7, no. 3 (2007): 373–88; Vanni Pettinà, “Global Horizons: Mexico, the Third World, and the Non-Aligned Movement at the Time of the 1961 Belgrade Conference,” International History Review 38, no. 4 (2016): 741–64. See also Eric Zolov, “Non-Alignment and Student Protest in 1968 Mexico,” in 1968 in Europe and Latin America, ed. A. James McAdams and Anthony Monta (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, forthcoming).
5. Rozita Levi, “Cuba and the Nonaligned Movement,” in Cuba in the World, ed. Cole Blasier and Carmela Mesa-Lago (Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1979), 147–51.
6. Leslie Bethell, “Brazil and ‘Latin America,’ ” Journal of Latin American Studies 42, no. 3 (2010): 457–85.
7. As Ambassador Henrique Rodrigues Valle commented in 1961, Brazil “is playing a role opposite to what it had become accustomed to, from an interpreter of the United States in Latin America, it has become the advocate of Latin Americans vis-à-vis the northern power.” As quoted in Stanley E. Hilton, “The United States, Brazil, and the Cold War, 1945–1960: End of the Special Relationship,” Journal of American History 68, no. 3 (1981): 623.
8. See also Alexandre Moreli’s and Boris Le Chaffotec’s work on the Unión Latina, an attempt to unite Latin America, France, and Spain under the banner of latinidad. Alexandre L. Moreli and Boris Le Chaffotec, “Countering War or Embracing Peace? Dialogues between Regionalism and Multilateralism in Latin America (1945–1954),” Culture and History Digital Journal 4, no. 1 (2015).
9. Debates on the awkward place of Latin America in the world order continue to this day, both in academic and public discourse. Some scholars have therefore claimed that Latin America as a region belongs neither to the West nor to the Third World, but constitutes a category of its own—a “Fourth World of Development,” as Howard Wiarda framed it. Howard Wiarda, Politics and Social Change in Latin America: Still a Distinct Tradition? (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1992), 6. Lauren Benton, “No Longer Odd Region Out: Repositioning Latin American in World History,” Hispanic American Historical Review 84, no. 3 (2004): 423–30.
10. Address of Foreign Minister Francisco de Negrão de Lima, 5 July 1958, EAP emb 1958.05.27, Centro de Pesquisa e Documentação de História Contemporânea do Brasil (hereafter CPDOC).
11. Charles Hale describes how Latin American culture “emerged within the broader confines of Western European culture.” Charles Hale, “Political Ideas and Ideologies in Latin America, 1870–1930,” in Ideas and Ideologies in Twentieth-Century Latin America, ed. Leslie Bethell (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 133. Joseph L. Love, Crafting the Third World: Theorizing Underdevelopment in Rumania and Brazil (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1996), 5.
12. First Report of the Brazilian Delegation of the Committee of 21 by Cleantho Paiva Leite, 10 May 1959, EAP emb 1958.05.27, CPDOC.
13. Instructions for the Brazilian Delegation of the Committee of 21, drafted by the Economic Department of Itamaraty, Setor Econômico, October 1958, EAP emb 1958.05.27, CPDOC.
14. Hershberg, “High-Spirited Confusion,” 381.
15. Jânio Quadros, “Brazil’s New Foreign Policy” Foreign Affairs 40, no. 1 (1961): 19–27.
16. Pettinà, 759.
17. Telegram, 9 May 1961, Folder Politica Internacional 900.1 (00), AMRE.
18. Lester D. Langley, America and the Americas: The United States in the Western Hemisphere (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1989), 245.
19. Vijay Prashad and Robert C. Young draw a direct connection, but as Robert Vitalis has rightly argued, Bandung and Afro-Asianism was a rival movement to nonalignment. Prashad, The Darker Nations; Robert C. Young, Postcolonialism: A Historical Introduction (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2012). Vitalis, “The Midnight Ride,” 277.
20. According to G. H. Jansen, twenty-one governments had sent representatives. These included Algeria, Tunisia, Egypt, Ghana, Guinea, Mali, Sudan, and Ethiopia from Africa; Saudi Arabia, Lebanon, Afghanistan, Indonesia, India, Burma, Ceylon, Cambodia, and Laos from Asia and the Middle East. The only European country was Yugoslavia. G. H. Jansen, Afro-Asia and Nonalignment (London: Praeger, 1966).
21. Telegram for Embassy Belgrade, 30 June 1961, Folder Politica Internacional 900.1 (00), AMRE.
22. Relatório do Observador do Brasil à Reunião Preliminar de Conferência de Chefes de Estado a Govêrno de Países Não-Alinhados, 15 June 1961, Folder Politica Internacional 900.1 (00), AMRE.
23. Telegram, 9 May 1961, Folder Politica Internacional 900.1 (00), AMRE.
24. Relatório do Observador do Brasil à Reunião Preliminar de Conferência de Chefes de Estado a Govêrno de Países Não-Alinhados, AMRE. Emphasis in the original.
25. Relatório do Observador do Brasil à Reunião Preliminar de Conferência de Chefes de Estado a Govêrno de Países Não-Alinhados, AMRE.
26. Telegram, 29 July 1961, Folder Politica Internacional 900.1 (00), AMRE.
27. As quoted in Hershberg, “High-Spirited Confusion,” 379.
28. Hershberg, “High-Spirited Confusion,” 376.
29. Relatório do Observador do Brasil à Reunião Preliminar da Conferência de Chefes de Estado e Gôverno de Países Não-Alinhados, AMRE.
30. Remarks by J. A. Araújo Castro, observer of Brazil, Annex 2, Relatório do Observador do Brasil à Reunião Preliminar de Conferência de Chefes de Estado a Govêrno de Países não-Alinhados, June 1961, Politica Internacional 900.1 (00), AMRE.
31. Relatório do Observador do Brasil à Reunião Preliminar da Conferência de Chefes de Estado e Gôverno de Países Não-Alinhados, AMRE.
32. Telegram to Embassy Delhi, 11 July 1961, Folder Politica Internacional 900.1 (00), AMRE.
33. Relatório do Observador do Brasil à Reunião Preliminar da Conferência de Chefes de Estado e Gôverno de Países Não-Alinhados, AMRE.
34. Gilberto Freyre, The Masters and the Slaves: A Study in the Development of Brazilian Civilization (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986).
35. Raymundo Souza Dantas, África difícil: missão condenada (Rio de Janeiro: Editôria Leitura, 1965).
36. As quoted in Jerry Dávila, Hotel Trópico: Brazil and the Challenge of African Decolonization, 1950–1980 (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2010), 46.
37. Relatório do Observador do Brasil à Reunião Preliminar da Conferência de Chefes de Estado e Gôverno de Países Não-Alinhados, AMRE.
38. As quoted in Hershberg, “High-Spirited Confusion,” 374.
39. Relatório do Observador do Brasil à Conferencia dos Chefes de Estado de Governo dos Países Não Alinhados, 7 September 1961, Folder Politica Internacional 900.1 (00), AMRE.
40. Byrne, “Beyond Continents, Colours, and the Cold War,” 913.
41. Byrne, “Beyond Continents, Colours, and the Cold War,” 913.
42. Jeremy Friedman, Shadow Cold War: The Sino-Soviet Competition for the Third World (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2015); Lorenz Lüthi, The Sino-Soviet Split: Cold War in the Communist World (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008).
43. Telegram from Dar-es-Salam, 5 February 1963, Political Section (POL) 8 Neutralism/Non-Alignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1963, Box 3793, U.S. National Archives and Records Administration, College Park, MD (hereafter NARA).
44. Telegram from Dar-es-Salam., NARA.
45. Airgram from Department of State, 11 January 1963, POL 8 Neutralism/Non-Alignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1963, Box 3793, NARA.
46. Airgram Embassy Accra to Department of State, 3 October 1963, POL 8 Neutralism/Non-Alignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1963, Box 3793, NARA.
47. Telegram from Dar-es-Salaam, 14 February 1963, POL 8 Neutralism/Non-Alignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1963, Box 3793, NARA.
48. In 1964, of the nineteen Latin American member-states, only Costa Rica, Colombia, Venezuela, Uruguay, Chile, Peru, and Mexico had civilian governments and were at least superficially democratic.
49. “Entrevista concedida ao Diário Popular, de Lisboa, sobre as relações luso-brasileiras,” JM pi Magelhães, J. 1966.08.24/3, CPDOC.
50. Resolution I Applications of Measures to the Present Government of Cuba, OEA/Ser. F/II.9, Columbus Memorial Library (hereafter CML).
51. Telegram AmEmbassy Paris, 23 October 1964, POL 8 Neutralism/Nonalignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1964–66, Box 1828, NARA.
52. Airgram circular to all American Republics (ARA) posts, 30 July 1964, POL 8 Neutralism/Nonalignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1964–66, Box 1829, NARA.
53. Airgram to all American diplomatic and consular posts, 30 July 1964, POL 8 Neutralism/Nonalignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1964–66, Box 1829, NARA.
54. Telegram from Department of State, 28 October 1964, POL 8 Neutralism/Nonalignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1964–66, Box 1829, NARA.
55. Airgram from Belgrade, 6 August 1964, POL 8 Neutralism/Nonalignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1964–66, Box 1829, NARA.
56. Posición de Cuba ante el Comité Preparatorio de la Conferencia de los No-Alienados, n.d., Box MNOAL 1949–1964, Archive of the Cuban Foreign Ministry (hereafter MINREX). The folder includes in-depth reports on each Latin American delegation.
57. Folder Secreto, Telegram from Embassy in Cairo, 8 July 1964, AMRE.
58. Relatório “II Conferência da Cúpula dos Estados Nao-alinhados,” 21 October 1964, AMRE.
59. Relatório “II Conferência da Cúpula dos Estados Nao-Alinhados.”
60. Relatório “II Conferência da Cúpula dos Estados Nao-Alinhados.”
61. Relatório “II Conferência da Cúpula dos Estados Nao-Alinhados.”
62. Telegram from Cairo, 3 October 1964, POL 8 Neutralism/Nonalignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1964–66, Box 1829, NARA.
63. Conference Telegram from New York, Plimpton, 23 October 1964, POL 8 Neutralism/Nonalignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1964–66, Box 1828, NARA.
64. Airgram, United States Delegation at the United Nations, 22 Jan 1965, POL 8 Neutralism/Nonalignment, Central Foreign Policy Files, 1964–66, Box 1828, NARA.