Guatemala holds landmark election
After decades of civil war, a tranquil vote
BY GLENN GARVIN
GUATEMALA CITY -- Without much fanfare or even visible enthusiasm,
hundreds
of thousands of Guatemalans went to the polls Sunday to vote
in the country's
first peacetime elections in more than 40 years.
``You see how it is,'' one poll worker said, gesturing at a voting
center where
street vendors seemed to outnumber voters. ``It's calm, but also
very slow -- very
few people.''
The voters who did show up seemed unconvinced that their ballots
would make a
great deal of difference. ``Treaty or no, we haven't really seen
peace around here,''
23-year-old factory worker Elena Tzuban said after voting on
the east side of
Guatemala City. ``And I don't think we'll see it after the election
either.''
Polls closed at 7 p.m. EST, but by 11 p.m. no results had been
announced. In
the meantime, both front-running opposition candidate Alfonso
Portillo and his
main rival, Guatemala City Mayor Oscar Berger, predicted victory.
Pre-election surveys showed Portillo with a lead of 10 to 16 percentage
points,
and close to winning without a runoff.
In addition to the presidency, 113 congressional seats and hundreds
of local
offices were also at stake Sunday. But to many Guatemalans, the
election itself
was more significant than the outcome. It was the first to be
held since a bloody
36-year civil war ended in 1996.
ALL VIEWS PRESENT
``This is the first time since the peace treaty was signed that
all the political
factions in the country have participated,'' President Alvaro
Arzu said after casting
his ballot Sunday. ``All the ideological extremes are represented.
This is
something that was impossible to conceive just five years ago.''
Former Marxist guerrillas, many of them voting for the first time,
agreed. ``There is
no military presence,'' said Jorge Ismael Soto, formerly known
as guerrilla
commander Pablo Monsanto. ``There is no pressure; all is calm.
We can say that
for the first time there is total freedom to express our will.''
``All is calm,'' said Nobel Peace Prize winner Rigoberta Menchu,
a guerrilla
sympathizer who spent most of her life in exile. ``There is great
joy.''
The former guerrillas not only voted but had a candidate on the
ballot: Alvaro
Colom, an industrial engineer, running under the banner of the
leftist New Nation
Alliance coalition. But his presence has been more historic than
relevant: Polls
have shown Colom running a distant third, with only about 6 percent
of the vote.
The real battle has been between the populist Portillo, a former
law professor who
boasted in campaign ads that he killed two faculty colleagues
during a 1982 brawl
in a bar, and the colorless Berger, whose only shooting has been
directed at his
own campaign's feet.
DISMISSED AS `PUPPET'
Portillo lashed out repeatedly at Berger, calling him a puppet
of Guatemala's elite.
Berger retorted that Portillo is reviving the sort of class warfare
that led to a civil
war that killed more than 100,000 people.
Portillo turned the disclosure of his 1982 killings in Mexico
into an asset, arguing
that he's the right man to clean up Guatemala's festering crime
problem. The
killings resulted in murder charges, which were eventually dropped
when the
statute of limitations ran out; he says he fired in self-defense.
Berger, by contrast, made blunder after blunder in the campaign.
In one of the
worst, he stood by at a rally, smiling as his vice presidential
running mate
dismissed criticism over the way the government handled the privatization
of the
national phone company with the observation that most Guatemalans
are too poor
to have phones anyway, so what difference did it make?
Waiting in line to vote on the west side of Guatemala City, 20-year-old
secretary
Yadila Paniagua said Portillo can't be trusted. She said his
Guatemalan
Republican Front party, a peculiar alliance of former leftists
and ex-military men,
was a sham.
``Portillo's just a front,'' she said. ``The ones who will really
rule are standing
behind the screen.''