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June 27, 1954. The CIA deposes one of Guatemala’s first democratically elected presidents, upending the nation’s government and ushering in decades of instability.
This episode of History Daily has been archived, but you can still listen to it as a subscriber to Into History, Noiser+, Wondery+, or as a Prime Member with the Amazon Music app.
It’s June 1944, in the streets of Guatemala City.
Thousands of Guatemalan citizens, teachers, students, and workers, brandish flags in unison, calling for democracy and for the resignation of their country’s dictator. Amid the sea of raging voices is school teacher Maria Chinchilla, her fists clenched and determination etched on her face.
Maria and her fellow protesters surge forward, flooding the capital’s central square where the National Palace looms before them.
As mounted police position themselves in a line, creating a formidable barrier in front of the palace, soldiers stationed at its entrance bellow orders, demanding the crowd's dispersal.
But the crowd is unfazed by their threats. Maria doesn’t doubt that the soldiers have been ordered to stop the demonstrators by any means necessary. Her body is tense with anger; after years of living under the dictatorship of President Jorge Ubico, Maria refuses to cower and flee now.
Faced with the protesters’ defiance, the soldiers raise their guns... and in a chilling instant, open fire on the crowd.
Panic seizes the protestors. They scream in terror as they run for safety. Maria fights to navigate the chaos, searching for an escape. But before she can find refuge, a bullet finds its mark, striking Maria in the head, and sending her crumpling to the ground.
Maria Chinchilla is one of more than 100 Guatemalans who are killed in the protest. Her death will turn Maria into a martyr and inflame demands for President Ubico’s resignation. Days later, the dictator will step down, and his handpicked successor will soon also be overthrown, in an event known as the October Revolution.
Then, in Guatemala’s first democratic elections, Dr. Juan José Arévalo will be elected President in a landslide. Determined to reform the government, Guatemala’s new leaders will launch a large-scale effort to address economic inequality, improve workers' rights, and advance education and healthcare. But these efforts will anger powerful enemies and draw accusations of communism, eventually leading to a coup orchestrated by the United States Central Intelligence Agency, the CIA, on June 27th, 1954.
From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.
History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.
Today is June 27th, 1954: The CIA Overthrows the Guatemalan Government.
It’s June 27th, 1952, inside the National Palace in Guatemala City, eight years after the October Revolution.
Jacobo Arbenz inhales deeply as he strides toward a podium set up before Congress. The 38-year-old is Guatemala's recently-elected president and he has a lot to say to the country’s legislators.
Arbenz’s rise to power came after an eventful six years under his predecessor, Guatemala’s first democratically elected president, Juan José Arévalo. Arevelo's tenure brought significant reforms, but he faced intense opposition too, surviving more than two dozen coup attempts. As Arevalo’s grip on power weakened, the mysterious death of a conservative general poised to take over the presidency cleared the path for Arbenz's succession. But rumors persist of Arbenz's involvement in the general's demise, though the accusation has not been proven.
Now, Arbenz stands ready to build upon the legacy of Guatemala's first democratically elected president. From the podium, he gazes at the assembly of legislators before him and a fleeting, disarming smile graces his face before he delves into his speech.
In it, Arbenz praises the hard-fought victories of his predecessor's administration, emphasizing the need to keep propelling Guatemala toward a modern economy. But he notes that a formidable barrier obstructs their path, an overwhelming concentration of property in the hands of a privileged few. Most of Guatemala’s land is either owned by a small number of wealthy individuals or by foreign corporations like the American-owned United Fruit Company.
Arbenz has already implored his Congress to pass legislation addressing the issue. Now, he states his eagerness to sign into law the reform they sent his way, called Decree 900. This legislation will ensure that the majority of Guatemala’s land will be returned to its people, allowing fallow fields to flourish, and yielding crops to feed the nation.
Applause erupts within the grand halls of the National Palace, as Arbenz's supporters give a resounding ovation. Yet, amid the cheers, an ominous silence emanates from the conservative members of Congress. Arbenz senses their distrust and their fear of any reforms that threaten the long-standing control of Guatemala's elite. Accusations of communism already swirl around the president, despite his careful criticism of the ideology.
Arbenz has made no secret of his commitment to end the country’s economic inequality, but he has also vehemently professed his commitment to democracy and capitalism. Still, he can’t deny that some of his biggest allies and supporters - like the labor unions - have communist loyalties. But Arbenz is not too concerned about his conservative critics. He knows that Decree 900 will have a tremendous impact, especially on Guatemala’s indigenous population. For years, they have been forced to toil on plantations, receiving scant wages or none at all. Arbenz assures Congress that returning this land to the Guatemalan people will usher in a new era of prosperity for that thousands of impoverished individuals; a large step forward in the progress begun by the October Revolution.
Then, with the enactment of Decree 900, Guatemala's government initiates the purchase of land and its redistribution among landless citizens. Even Arbenz contributes 1700 acres of his own property, swelling with pride as peasants gain the means to farm their own land. The years of hunger and unemployment inflicted upon the Guatemalan people fuel his determination. But, Arbenz is well aware that Decree 900 has provoked powerful adversaries within and beyond Guatemala's borders.
The United Fruit Company, one of the nation's largest landowners, thrived under the corrupt rule preceding the country’s democratic revolution. Allowed to exploit Guatemala's workers with impunity, they amassed vast tracts of land at bargain prices. Their grip extended to controlling Guatemala's sole railroads, giving them dominance over the country's economy. And while Arbenz proposed compensation for United Fruit's unused land, he knows the company is not pleased with his reform, and suspects the blow dealt to their financial supremacy will be met with fierce resistance.
These suspicions are confirmed when Arbenz's foreign minister comes to him with bad news. Guatemala's offer of compensation based on United Fruit's declared land value has prompted the United States to demand for payment twenty-five times higher. It appears United Fruit has been underreporting the value of their land to evade taxes, but are now seeking recompense at its true worth.
Arbenz is outraged by the company's audacity, but not surprised. The fact that the news has come from the US State Department serves as a stark reminder of the corporation's powerful allies. In Arbenz’s mind, United Fruit and the United States are practically one and the same. Nonetheless, Arbenz's administration refuses to yield to bullying.
In the years that follow, they order seizures of United Fruit land, totaling nearly 400,000 acres. But, aware of the United States' formidable power, Arbenz instructs his foreign minister to continue negotiations, hoping for compromise. But unbeknownst to him, United Fruit is already mobilizing its influential connections.
Back in the United States, President Dwight D. Eisenhower’s administration has a more aggressive stance toward communism, and they will look upon Arbenz's socialist policies with suspicion. Key members of Eisenhower's administration will maintain close ties to United Fruit. And armed with these powerful friends, the corporation will launch an aggressive lobbying campaign, convincing the American public and government that Arbenz is a threat, one large enough that the CIA must orchestrate a coup that will topple the president from power.
It’s the afternoon of June 18th, 1954 in Guatemala City, two years after the implementation of Decree 900.
John Peurifoy, the US Ambassador to Guatemala, rushes to his office window, drawn by the buzz of two military planes soaring overhead.
For nearly a year, the US has been planning a coup in Guatemala, but they needed a pretext to veil their actions. In May 1954, the opportunity arose. For years, the US refused to sell Guatemala arms and pressured American allies to do the same. But last month, Guatemala's President Jacobo Arbenz made a covert weapons deal with communist Czechoslovakia.
Ambassador Peurifoy seized upon this moment to solidify the United States' allegations of communism within Arbenz's government. Armed with proof of communist ties, the US moved forward with their coup plan. And today, after months of collaboration with the CIA, Peurifoy is witnessing their work come to fruition. At dawn, the CIA blanketed the city with ominous leaflets, demanding Arbenz's resignation by the end of the day. Since then, the CIA-operated "Voices of Liberation" radio station has incessantly broadcasted reports of the advancing "Liberation Army." Peurifoy knows well that this force is a motley crew, a mix of Guatemalan exiles and mercenaries from the US and Central America. But that hasn’t stopped the “Voices of Liberation” from spreading rumors of the insurgents’ imminent victory.
Now, as Peurifoy looks out the window of his office, his excitement becomes palpable. Two US-made aircrafts swoop over the city. Their machine guns unleash a barrage near an army barracks, followed by the explosion of dropped bombs. As smoke billows upward, one of the planes swerves toward the National Palace, raining bullets upon it. Then, both aircrafts turn and vanish into the distance, dropping another batch of propaganda flyers while they make their exit.
Peurifoy watches their departure, before hurriedly recording his observations. He dispatches the details to the Secretary of State in the United States, signaling that the coup is in motion.
Later that evening, Peurifoy meets with Guatemala's foreign minister. A heavyset, assertive man hailing from a small South Carolina town, Peurifoy is a stark contrast to the foreign minister, who was raised within Guatemala's elite society. But it's more than disparate backgrounds that divide these two men. Peurifoy has clashed with the foreign minister on numerous occasions, especially when pressing Guatemala to pay the United Fruit Company $16 million for seized land. In the past, Peurifoy has made it clear that he thinks the foreign minister is a communist sympathizer. But, tonight, he tries to play cool. Peurifoy doesn’t want to let on that he knows anything about today’s events, hoping to conceal that the US was behind them.
Inside his office, the foreign minister recounts the attack on Guatemala City earlier that day. He pauses for a moment before he mentions that the planes were P-47s, a model manufactured in the United States. While the foreign minister refrains from directly accusing the US of attempting to overthrow the Guatemalan government, Peurifoy recognizes the insinuation. He counters, highlighting that the P-47 planes are used by nations worldwide, including communist ones. It’s highly unlikely a communist country would attack Guatemala, but Peurifoy will say anything to try to cover the CIA’s tracks, including questioning Guatemalan officials’ accounts of the assault.
After the meeting, Peurifoy is aware of the foreign minister's mounting frustration with his obfuscation tactics. But he’s determined to do whatever it takes to provide cover for the CIA until their mission is complete.
Over the next few days, aerial attacks continue, complemented by ground assaults orchestrated by CIA-backed rebels targeting lines of electricity, communication, and transportation. Peurifoy is well aware that the insurgents are vastly outnumbered. But with the support of the US propaganda, there’s widespread confusion about the rebels’ strength.
After two days of bombings and sporadic attacks, President Arbenz makes a radio address to the Guatemalan people. He asserts that the ongoing rebellion is not an organic uprising, but rather connected to United Fruit and to the United States. He proclaims that Guatemala is being punished for prioritizing the welfare of its people over foreign corporations.
As Peurifoy listens to this address, he understands that winning the battle to remove the president will require a psychological victory. As the coup progresses, Peurifoy diligently files reports, exaggerating the rebels' capabilities and sowing confusion regarding the true events unfolding.
Guatemala's leaders will try to appeal to the international community for assistance, employing every diplomatic tool at their disposal to halt the coup. But Peurifoy and his colleagues back in the US will work tirelessly to thwart these efforts, refusing to interfere in the coup, until they are successful, and Jacobo Arbenz is no longer president.
It’s the night of June 27th, 1954, less than two weeks after the US-backed coup of Guatemala began.
Guatemalan President Jacobo Arbenz sits at his desk, preparing to address his nation over the radio. Exhaustion and sorrow weigh heavily upon him.
Over the past ten days of fighting, his army has suffered minimal losses, with only 15 fallen soldiers. But the relentless barrage of misinformation from the CIA's "Voices of Liberation," as well as local and international newspapers, has painted a different picture. Guatemalans are now convinced that the president’s grip on power is slipping. So Arbenz’s army officers gave him an ultimatum: either step down or the army will likely strike a deal with the rebels and march on the capital with them.
Now, it’s with a heavy heart that Arbenz begins to read his resignation to the country he holds so dear. He recites his prepared remarks, striving to project strength and optimism for his people. But his voice is tired and tinged with grief.
Though skeptical of the rebels' chances of victory, he knows they have powerful allies. By stepping down and passing control to his colonel, Arbenz hopes that the United States will relent.
Signing off with the words, "Long Live the October Revolution! Long live Guatemala!" Arbenz hands the microphone to his successor. Later that night, he departs the National Palace and seeks asylum at the Mexican embassy.
Arbenz hopes that his resignation will protect his government and the values they stand for. But the US has no desire to keep one of Arbenz’s men in power. By early July, the United States’ hand-picked leader, Castillo Armas, takes control of Guatemala.
The end of Arbenz’s government ushers in decades of authoritarian rule and political instability. Guatemala’s subsequent regimes will carry out widespread political repression and human rights violations. Efforts to share more wealth and power with Guatemala’s poor and indigenous people will come to an end, while foreign companies and Guatemalan elites will regain their dominance.
Then, from 1960 to 1996, the country will descend into a brutal civil war. Hundreds of thousands of Guatemalans will be killed or disappear over the course of the 36-year conflict. Afterward, Guatemala will achieve a hard-won peace, yet it will continue to grapple with the enduring consequences of the CIA-orchestrated coup that toppled one of its first democratically elected presidents on June 27th, 1954.
Next on History Daily. June 28th, 1969. A police raid on a gay bar in New York City ignites the modern LGBTQ rights movement.
From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.
Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.
Sound design by Mischa Stanton.
Music by Lindsay Graham.
This episode is written and researched by Ruben Abrahams Brosbe.
Produced by Alexandra Currie-Buckner.
Executive Producers are Steven Walters for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.