Confidential File

Ousted Strong Man Peron Quite a Sight

Editor's
Note: This is the second in a series of Paul Coates columns based on
his trip to the Dominican Republic, where he had exclusive interviews
with Cuba's ex-dictator Batista and Argentina's ex-dictator Juan Peron.

CIUDAD TRUJILLO, Dominican Republic, April 7 — The main
tourist attraction in this tropical city at the moment is the strange
sight of an elderly florid-faced man racing his motorcycle up and down
the streets.

He is Juan Peron, until three years ago the most powerful dictator in South America.

Today, he lives in comfortable and not entirely unobtrusive exile, attended by only one servant and a press secretary named Americo Barrios, formerly an Argentine newspaper publisher.

Although
he takes almost no part in the high society life of the city, Peron can
hardly be called a recluse. He spends most of every day riding along
the boulevards on his German-made cycle, with Barrios following at a
respectful distance on a motor scooter.

Occasionally the
63-year-old ex-dictator swerves sharply to the curb, stops and flirts
with the pretty Dominican girls who promenade theAvenide George
Washington for the apparent purposes of being flirted with. Then he
takes off again, and waves obligingly to passing motorists who
recognize him.

There is persistent talk in Latin America today that this former strong man is ready to make a move for return to power
in Argentina. He is alleged to have followers paving the way for him by
systematically sabotaging the democratic government of PresidentFrondizi. And he himself claims that the Peronista Party has 7 million members now.

This should make Peron a logical target for an assassination attempt. If, however, he has any fears along these lines, you would never
know it. He goes out unaccompanied. No bodyguards follow him on his
daily motorcycle jaunts. And he persistently wears a bright red
baseball cap and jacket which make him clearly visible from blocks away.

He lives in a huge villa several miles from Ciudad
Trujillo, but occupies only a small guest house on the property. This
man, whose enemies accuse him of escaping from Argentina with $500
million, leads a comparatively simple existence. When he isn't cycling
around town, he spends his time keeping in shape by fencing (he was
Olympic fencing champion in 1924) or getting out of shape by mixing the
strongest gin and tonic in the entire Caribbean.

"I never drank in my life until I went into exile," he told me. "But now, I am able to relax and do what I want."

"At least," he added, "for a little while."

Man of Destiny, He Thinks

As
we sat on the veranda of the guest house, and talked, it was evident
that Peron is deeply convinced his exile is temporary. He is restless,
and impatient for the day of his return. And, although he insists that
he isn't running the Peronistas from exile, it is obvious that he is
receiving up-to-the-minute intelligence on the activities of his
outlawed political party, and on the general situation in Argentina.

When
I was leaving, Peron handed me a photograph of himself. He scrawled his
name on the photo. "If you had this picture with you in Argentina
today," he told me proudly, "you would receive a mandatory sentence of
six years in prison."