Santo Domingo: A Country with a Future

by Otto Schoenrich

At the present time there are also American provost courts which take cognizance of "offenses against the military government." This designation is broad enough to include anything the military authorities choose to include. Apart from a few cases of regrettable harshness these courts have done fairly well.

While the various constitutions have expressly declared the independence of the judicial power, the authority of the courts has heretofore been rather relative, and they have studiously avoided conflicts with the other branches of the government. There is no case on record where they have declared a law unconstitutional. The supreme court when driven into a corner in 1904 even declared that it had not the authority to make such a declaration. The constitution of 1908 modified the decision by expressly providing that the supreme court may decide as to the constitutionality of laws.

This decision of the supreme court made little impression in the country, due probably in part to the ease with which the various administrations have disregarded the constitution when it suited their convenience. The little value of the constitution between friends has constantly been demonstrated. Certain provisions have been systematically violated, even by the best of administrations. Principal among them is the provision that no one be arrested without a warrant setting forth the offense, unless caught in flagranti, and the provision that every person imprisoned be informed of the cause of his imprisonment and submitted to examination within forty-eight hours after arrest, and not be detained for a longer time than permitted by law. These provisions have been dead letters as far as political prisoners are concerned. When a person was suspected of being involved in a conspiracy against the government he was liable at any moment to be seized and conducted to prison, where he might be detained indefinitely, until the danger was over, or he was considered innocuous. The ancient fortress at the river mouth in Santo Domingo, known as La Torre del Homenaje, bears over its entrance the sign, "Political Prison," and rarely has it been without tenants, even when the country was at peace and the constitutional guarantees were supposed to be in force. On one occasion when I heard a Dominican lawyer lament that a friend of his had thus been incarcerated for several months without a hearing, I inquired why he did not apply to a court and invoke the constitutional provision. The reply was, "The judge who signed an order to set the prisoner free would probably join him in jail before many hours had passed."

Such ignoring of the written law was a relic of the days when the will of the military was the only law respected. Reminders of the old state of affairs continued to crop out, though the people and government were rapidly adopting other customs. An instance occurred in Sanchez during the presidency of Morales. A younger brother of the president was customs collector at that port and was accused by public rumor of irregularities in office. A customs employee having been discharged for spreading the rumor, called on the collector and invited him to a meeting outside; and the two adjourned to the bush, where shots were exchanged and young Morales was wounded in the leg. The aggressor was immediately seized by the general commanding the military forces in Sanchez and carried to the town cemetery, a grave was dug, and the general prepared to have him summarily shot. The town authorities interceded, but in vain, and the execution was about to take place when the ladies of the town succeeded in moving the commandant by their pleadings. The prisoner was remanded to the jail in Samana and was later tried by the court of first instance and acquitted. Much more recently the leader of the band that assassinated President Caceres was killed without trial.

Some of the surviving military leaders of the old school find difficulty in adjusting themselves to the new conditions. Among them was General Cirilo de los Santos, better known by his nickname "Guayubin" (the name of the town where he was born) who took an active part in the political disturbances of the Republic for many years. When I traveled through the country with Prof. Hollander on his financial investigation we were guests of this hero of a hundred revolutions, who was then Governor of La Vega. In the course of conversation Prof. Hollander expressed gratification at the cessation of the custom of shooting political prisoners. The governor was at that time engaged in the persecution of one Perico Lasala, a perpetual revolutionist who was infesting the nearby hills and who has since done his country a favor by being killed in an incursion on the coast. The idea of not shooting this notorious character as soon as he was apprehended seemed grotesque to Guayubin—and perhaps not without reason. He cried, "If you were in my place and caught Perico Lasala, wouldn't you shoot even him?" "Why, no," was the answer. Guayubin's face fell and he became thoughtful. For the rest of the day he was strangely silent and he continued so on the morrow, when he accompanied us for several miles out of town. When bidding goodbye, he broke out: "I wish to ask your advice. If I should catch Perico Lasala, what would you advise me to do with him?" Dr. Hollander asked: "What do you do with persons who steal or commit similar violations of the law?" "We put them in jail." "Why, then, put Perico Lasala in jail." A look of inexpressible relief came over the face of the old warrior. "Of course!" he said, "I never thought of that."

Not long after this incident General Guayubin met a political opponent against whom he harbored resentment. He immediately drew his revolver and began to shoot, and the object of his wrath escaped only by dexterous sprinting. At a session of Congress there was some criticism of his action and Guayubin resigned his office in disgust. The death of this fighter was as stern as his life. He attended a christening party at a house where there was a forgotten powder-cask; a spark fell into the powder and in the ensuing explosion Guayubin's eyesight was destroyed. Grimly refusing to take food or drink, he pined away.

Prior to the American occupation, the Dominican penal establishments were as a rule in very bad condition. There is no penitentiary and portions of the forts or government houses are used as jails. The prisoners were herded together with little thought of cleanliness. The stench in some of the jail yards was at times almost unbearable. In justice it should be stated that the Dominican authorities frequently called the attention of their Congress to this condition of affairs. The prisons at Santo Domingo City and Santiago were exceptions to the rule; they were improved even to the extent of being endowed with a prison school.

The political prisoners were generally given better accommodations, if there were any at hand, and had the privilege of securing their meals from the outside instead of being limited to the scant and repugnant prison food. During revolutions, however, when the prisons were overcrowded, the political prisoners were kept in irons and supervision was rigid. According to law the functionaries of each court of first instance were supposed to visit and examine the jails once a month, but as the date of their visit was known beforehand the inspection was little more than perfunctory. Not very long ago it was whispered in the Cibao that a judge in inspecting a jail accidentally passed through a door to a room he was evidently not expected to enter, and there to his own embarrassment and that of the warden found a score of prisoners whose names were not on the prison rolls.

The more serious offenders were kept in irons. The Dominican authorities, realizing that they had no reason to be proud of their prisons, were loath to permit foreigners to visit the jails. When I called at the government building at Sanchez on one occasion, however, the commandant was absent and an indiscreet sergeant offered to show me the two rooms used for prison purposes. The building was a wooden one and one of the rooms, though heavily barred, did not seem unfitted except in case of overcrowding, which I was told sometimes occurred. The other room was extremely repulsive. It was dark and a foul odor rising from a hole in the wooden floor demonstrated the truth of the guide's remark that there was no outhouse for the use of the prisoners. Along one side of this room lay two long square-cut beams, one on the other, scalloped out so as to form a number of round holes along their juncture. It was evident they were used as stocks and my guide stated that he had seen a whole row of men sitting along the log with their feet thus confined. One or two of the holes were a little larger and it was explained that they were for the purpose of confining not the feet but the neck of the delinquent, and that this punishment was much worse, producing especial pain in the case of short-necked persons. The severest pain was produced, so the guide stated, when the delinquent was seated on the beam and his feet placed crosswise through the holes: he could bear the agony of this position for only a short time.

The American authorities have made great improvements in the prisons and prison discipline. The jails are now so clean that they are almost show places.