From reporters and young photographers in Montevideo, we learned of the arrest on December 17, 2007, of self-appointed Uruguayan President Gregorio Alvarez (1983-1985) and about subsequent public demonstrations in support of the court’s call for the ex-dictator to face justice. Media estimate that about 2,000 people spontaneously congregated in the centrally located Plaza de La Libertad.

Alvarez has been charged with illegal imprisonment, torture and murders committed outside national borders as well as implicated in crimes orchestrated internationally that resulted in substantial financial gains for the perpetrators. After reviewing his appeals, the Supreme Court determined that the crimes of which Alvarez is accused are not exempt by Uruguay’s Ley de Caducidad. That law forms part of the general amnesty extended to the military involved in the years of repressive government between 1973 and 1985.

Finalized in 1986, the amnesty agreements include the Ley de Caducidad and the complementary Ley de Amnistia. Together the laws represent an extraordinary compromise put in motion by members of the military then still in power and the various political factions aspiring to the presidency of the reestablished democratic government.

The amnesty provided immunity for military excesses as well as for the acts of guerillas and insurgents. Many guerillas were imprisoned during the early 1970s for their involvement in bank robberies, kidnappings, and bombings as well as for committing as many, if not more murders than the military. The amnesty also proved helpful in freeing several key political figures jailed for their opposition politics or more seriously abetting the radical tactics of the insurgents.

According to recent reports, Alvarez has joined ten other high-ranking military and police officials from the military dictatorship that ruled Uruguay between 1973 and 1985.  All of them now are held in Domingo Arena, a prison specifically constructed to house military detainees. Ex-Navy Captain Juan Carlos Larcebeau and retired Colonel Carlos Calcagno are similarly charged. Extensive documentation and testimony collected over the last thirty years has connected each of the accused with the disappearance of specific individuals.

Already held at the Domingo Arena facility are José Niño Gavazzo, Gilberto Vázquez, Jorge Silveira, Luis Maurente, Ricardo Medina, José Sande and Ricardo Arab who were arrested in 2006 in connection with the elaborate transport to Argentina and eventual disappearance of various Uruguayan insurgents including militant communist party leader Adalberto Soba Fernández.

The abstract of the legal brief indicting the now aged and ailing Uruguayan ex-President may be found at the foot of the relevant article in La Republica 21. For the full text of the plaintiffs’ case refer to La denuncia de Izurralde y Santana contra el ex-dictador Gregorio Alvarez .

Gregorio Alvarez has repeatedly affirmed his innocence and lack of knowledge about any coordinated activities with neighboring countries.

I suppose that this assertion captured my attention as not too long ago, while browsing through the stacks of the Benson Latin American Collection, I came upon a book labeled  “El rol de las fuerzas armadas en el proceso político uruguayo : texto de las conferencias pronunciadas por el Sr. presidente de la República Oriental de Uruguay.” The book, published in 1984 by the Instituto de Estudios Latinoamericanos in Buenos Aires, Argentina, is supposedly authored by one Gregorio Alvarez, born in 1925.  Unfortunately, our book was miscataloged and the text that is bound within the covers is something else of a similar nature but published by the same institute several years later.

Thirteen other research libraries in the United States listed in the OCLC Worldcat  indicate that they hold copies of the Alvarez book, so I have requested a copy through my library’s interlibrary loan service. You might try to do the same.

How Lucuix used his library

This treasure trove reveals details about his personal life, tastes, and habits as well as many clues about how Lucuix utilized his library to provide reference and research services to others. His correspondence includes requests from historians, journalists, legislators, and students for books and specific information; there are related notes of thanks for his support, often acknowledged by gift books from the author. A particularly explicit request from Conrado Monfort entreats Lucuix to provide him with materials about the French biologist Saint Hilaire and other explorers who had passed through the Rio Negro basin. Monfort, owner of El Litoral–a newspaper in Fray Bentos, Uruguay–was planning a surprise commemorative issue of the newspaper, about which Monfort pleaded Lucuix keep in confidence. Lucuix maintained a fruitful correspondence with directors of various research centers, embassies, and the ministries of several countries who provided him with current publications.

Documents in the office files suggest that the sale of the Lucuix library was arranged through none other than Nettie Lee Benson. Benson, at the time, represented the collective acquisitions program for several US research universities in Latin America under the sponsorship of New York publisher and bookseller, Stechert-Hafner. Between 1961 and 1963, Benson traveled throughout Latin America in search of publishers, booksellers, government agencies, university presses, and authors willing to provide multiple copies for resale by Stechert-Hafner, which in turn fulfilled purchase orders from research libraries in the United States. Benson’s directive was to locate sources of recent publications but during her trips, she heard of the availability of complete libraries such as the Lucuix.

The purchase of the library by the University of Texas

So far, I have not found any clues about the person or persons who linked Benson to Lucuix. Don Simon purchased books from various Montevidean booksellers including Adolfo Linardi, El Librero de la Feria, and Barreiros y Ramos. In Buenos Aires, he dealt with the Libreria La Incognita and the Libreria del Plata but probably did business with many other dealers internationally. The University of Texas purchased the Lucuix library on November 1, 1963. According to the bill of sale signed by Lucuix, his library of 21,363 books was packed into 604 boxes bailed into 10 shipping containers. The purchase amount was US$40,000.00, the equivalent of US $275,000 today.

Of the purchases recorded in the annual reports of the Seminar on the Acquisition of Latin American Library Materials (SALALM), the Lucuix was by far the largest single collection acquired by a member library during the 1960s. Other collections acquired by American universities between 1961 and 1971 seldom mounted to more than 2,000 to 3,000 titles, which makes it more surprising and intriguing to find so little information about the Lucuix library. More details about the purchase wait to be discovered in the Benson archives.

It is likely that economic circumstances forced Lucuix to sell his books.

During the 1960s, inflation battered Uruguay. When demand for wool and grain declined after the Korean War, the Uruguayan government attempted to revive the national economy by borrowing and encouraging production for domestic consumption but finally succumbed to devaluing its currency. Once Europe reconstructed their industries and the United States recovered from the wars began to export, Uruguay’s outdated industries could not compete. The related unemployment, breakdown in services and industrial failures set off an economic crisis that triggered union and student protests and escalated into urban guerilla warfare uncontrollable by the police. A conservative government brought back in 1966, unable to quash the activities of the Tupamaros and other less violent opposition groups, eventually established a military council, unleashing the worst sort of repressive measures that lasted until 1985. This period of stagnation and dictatorship set off a wave of emigration and a brain drain from which Uruguay is still recuperating.

Contrast in economic conditions

In contrast, the U.S. economy was expanding rapidly during the years after World War II. Funds never or since available to research libraries flowed from federal government programs and philanthropic institutions anxious to learn more about the cultures and the stability of governance structures of countries in Latin America. Whole collections of books, and with it habits and mentalities, could be purchased and were.

According to a 1983 interview by Stanley R. Ross with Benson, the monies allocated to the Latin American Collection by the University of Texas President Harry Ransom came from gift funds about which she knew nothing. In hindsight, this statement appears disingenuous, as American universities were mounting huge area study programs funded by the federal government through taxes allocated for the National Defense Education Act of 1958. The Ford and Rockefeller Foundations also made large contributions to these efforts. To date, many regard the 1960s as the golden age of research libraries. Support for the development of comprehensive research libraries stemmed from the belief that the strength of area studies served the interests of many disciplines such as geography, anthropology, and language arts.

Today the incentives for developing, enhancing, and sharing research collections are different but as laden with the politics and economics of knowledge as before.

Graphics: Gaucho by Federico Reilly in PaginaGaucho