At this point, Santos gave a short, fifteen-minute interview to a CNN reporter. A white man of Spanish and French descent, he had been Washington's favorite candidate in the last election, as the others were even more leftist. He was an odd figure for a politician, a former doctor who as Health and Sports Minister had organized a system of mobile health-care units, some of which traveled by horseback, riverboat or helicopter. He spoke fluent Quechua, the Andean language, and had self-published two books on Andean folklore. As one pundit later remarked, he was the perfect counterpoint to President Trump: courteous, concise in his answers, and humorous in a sort of backhanded way; one had to think a moment to catch his jokes.
Here are some of the questions and answers.
Q: What do you think of President Trump's remark that he would flatten Bolivia?
A: Divine revelation just ain't what it used to be.
Q: Why has Bolivia been so careful to avoid civilian casualties in its attacks on the United States?
A: I would prefer to allow President Trump to be able to save face. Casualties would make that more difficult.
Q: How long can Bolivians bear American attacks?
A: The question is, how long will America bear our attacks? Most Bolivians, you know, live on ten dollars a day. Try asking Americans to do that.
Q: Why was it so important to reply to America's two initial attacks, when most countries would have borne them in silence?
A: Ask Neville Chamberlain about appeasing a bully. You may have noticed that our South American brothers have rallied to our defense. We all know that if we don't put up a fight now, other American attacks are inevitable.
"That interview?" boomed Senator Lindsey Graham. "It made my skin crawl."
Secretary of State Rubio opined, "It only proves his credentials as a terrorist, in the same league as Maduro in Venezuela, and by the way, I'm running for president in 2028."
Other Latin American countries tried to help Bolivia out, though there was precious little they could do, Bolivia's enemy being a carrier group a hundred miles off the coast. Brazil sent helicopters and firefighting equipment, wary of taking on the American fliers in a dogfight. Peru and Chile sent ships to cruise the coastline, but this was little more than a gesture, and Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth warned them loudly against any attempt to send underwater drones. Colombia ordered the American military personnel on their bases to stay on the base, and Ecuador canceled a national referendum on opening an American base there, for its constitution forbids foreign military installations. And all countries were already taking in people severely injured in American bombing.
On Monday, the attacks on La Paz continued, and on Tuesday the drone attacks continued in American airports: this time, in Concord, Detroit, Dubuque, and Spokane. By now, the FBI had figured out who was doing the attacking: teenage kids who had been gifted the top-level drones, promised cash rewards, and told via cell phone when to fly them. After a twenty-minute flight from a safe mile away, they could keep the drones and would be told where to find five hundred dollars: in such-and-such a book in the public library, or taped to the underside of a bench in the high school baseball dugout. The kids were delighted with both the money and the chance to mess up an airport.
When this news broke, President Trump declared that anyone caught flying a drone at an airport WILL BE TRIED AS AN ADULT FOR TREASON.
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).