Tucumán’ grew. He had never known any woman to have
such strong feelings about politics, and he would find himself captivated by
her as she spoke in their tutorials, wondering if she carried her passions as far
as the boudoir.
The Porteño would stay after class was over, often engaging in heated
debate, until one or the other of them would storm off in disgust. He was
obsessed by her spirit, and she knew it. Finally, in desperation to take their
relationship to another level, Lonnie asked his tutor if she would accompany
him to an underground lecture by one of the nation’s leading trade union
leaders, a man who happened to have a huge student and left-wing following.
She had refused at first, citing the awkward relationship between teacher
and pupil, but had finally succumbed from a combination of curiosity and sheer
frustration over his relentless pleadings.
The speaker, a thinly disguised Marxist from Rosario named Raphael
Squeo, had to be spirited in and out of Buenos Aires to avert arrest for a
number of outstanding warrants. These related to what the junta referred to
as ‘provocative activities and conspiring to commit insurrection against the
state.’
The lecture was held in the basement of one of the undergraduate
dormitories in University City. Heavily armed security teams were very much
in evidence, but what seemed incredible to Lonnie was the fact that they were
comprised of his fellow students. He knew many of these gun-toting scholars
personally. Had the police or military decided to raid the proceedings, the
outcome could have been a blood bath. He was also shocked at the passionate
response from the audience to the rhetoric of Señor Squeo.
Much of what the man proclaimed to be the only path to an enlightened
Argentina would have meant the downfall of the upper-middle classes. That
would include the family and the fortune of Lonfranco ‘Lonnie’ De Seta. He sat
in silence trying to take the pulse of the gathering. Lonnie knew that he was
not the only Porteño present that came from an established, well-to-do family.
He had seen many others, both young men and young women. The former
rugby player watched their enthusiasm and vocal encouragement peak as Squeo
skillfully built his ninety-minute speech to a crescendo.
30
RENALDO
At the conclusion, everyone was standing and applauding, stomping their
feet and whistling. It seemed like a football pep rally, with Squeo carried from
the room on the shoulders of his supporters.
He preaches pure anarchy! Lonnie thought to himself. It seemed to him that
the overall theme of Squeo’s lecture was that ‘Argentina must be ruled by the
will of its common people, with free elections. This must be achieved by any
means possible, even civil disobedience and violence!’
That could not be accomplished without even more retaliatory violence
on the part of generals who currently controlled the military, and therefore, the
country. It was a vicious circle that just seemed to perpetuate itself, recurring
every few years with a different cast of characters.
Lonnie was relieved to find no military police at the university that
evening as they walked to his car. The audience had been asked before the
lecture began to disperse as quickly as possible, so that the location of the event
could remain secret and secure for future use. The crowd seemed to be heeding
those wishes.
Once they were alone in his car, Lonnie finally sought out a reaction from
his learned companion. He was shocked at her diatribe.
“That man knows nothing about what is best for this country! He is a fool
and a coward. He has never killed anyone in the name of his revolution! All he
does is talk and line his pockets. No one asked him how much he is paid by
the unions to stir up unrest, or how much he takes under the table from the
junta to keep things peaceful. He is playing both sides against the middle, and
his bank account is the middle! We have
such strong feelings about politics, and he would find himself captivated by
her as she spoke in their tutorials, wondering if she carried her passions as far
as the boudoir.
The Porteño would stay after class was over, often engaging in heated
debate, until one or the other of them would storm off in disgust. He was
obsessed by her spirit, and she knew it. Finally, in desperation to take their
relationship to another level, Lonnie asked his tutor if she would accompany
him to an underground lecture by one of the nation’s leading trade union
leaders, a man who happened to have a huge student and left-wing following.
She had refused at first, citing the awkward relationship between teacher
and pupil, but had finally succumbed from a combination of curiosity and sheer
frustration over his relentless pleadings.
The speaker, a thinly disguised Marxist from Rosario named Raphael
Squeo, had to be spirited in and out of Buenos Aires to avert arrest for a
number of outstanding warrants. These related to what the junta referred to
as ‘provocative activities and conspiring to commit insurrection against the
state.’
The lecture was held in the basement of one of the undergraduate
dormitories in University City. Heavily armed security teams were very much
in evidence, but what seemed incredible to Lonnie was the fact that they were
comprised of his fellow students. He knew many of these gun-toting scholars
personally. Had the police or military decided to raid the proceedings, the
outcome could have been a blood bath. He was also shocked at the passionate
response from the audience to the rhetoric of Señor Squeo.
Much of what the man proclaimed to be the only path to an enlightened
Argentina would have meant the downfall of the upper-middle classes. That
would include the family and the fortune of Lonfranco ‘Lonnie’ De Seta. He sat
in silence trying to take the pulse of the gathering. Lonnie knew that he was
not the only Porteño present that came from an established, well-to-do family.
He had seen many others, both young men and young women. The former
rugby player watched their enthusiasm and vocal encouragement peak as Squeo
skillfully built his ninety-minute speech to a crescendo.
30
RENALDO
At the conclusion, everyone was standing and applauding, stomping their
feet and whistling. It seemed like a football pep rally, with Squeo carried from
the room on the shoulders of his supporters.
He preaches pure anarchy! Lonnie thought to himself. It seemed to him that
the overall theme of Squeo’s lecture was that ‘Argentina must be ruled by the
will of its common people, with free elections. This must be achieved by any
means possible, even civil disobedience and violence!’
That could not be accomplished without even more retaliatory violence
on the part of generals who currently controlled the military, and therefore, the
country. It was a vicious circle that just seemed to perpetuate itself, recurring
every few years with a different cast of characters.
Lonnie was relieved to find no military police at the university that
evening as they walked to his car. The audience had been asked before the
lecture began to disperse as quickly as possible, so that the location of the event
could remain secret and secure for future use. The crowd seemed to be heeding
those wishes.
Once they were alone in his car, Lonnie finally sought out a reaction from
his learned companion. He was shocked at her diatribe.
“That man knows nothing about what is best for this country! He is a fool
and a coward. He has never killed anyone in the name of his revolution! All he
does is talk and line his pockets. No one asked him how much he is paid by
the unions to stir up unrest, or how much he takes under the table from the
junta to keep things peaceful. He is playing both sides against the middle, and
his bank account is the middle! We have
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