I’ve witnessed coups, but this was worse

The recent shameful anarchic events in Washington, D.C., have put a permanent bloody stain on the sacrosanct image of the United States as a fortress of democratic constitutional order and a beacon of hope for international stability. The scenes on televisions across the globe were repulsive and disquieting. They spoke of a country in chaos.

Even more appalling and damaging was that the mob of insurrectionists storming the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6 were appreciably incited by the then-president of the United States, seeking to upend the duly certified results of a democratic election through intimidation or force. Lives were put in danger. Lives were lost.

This was never, ever, supposed to happen in the United States of America.

In a military career spanning 28 years, including assignments in Spain, Chile, Korea and Italy, as well as executive management responsibilities for military assistance programs in Colombia, Bolivia, Argentina and Uruguay, I had my share of exposure to “fragile democracies” and “banana republics.”

As commandant of the Inter-American Air Forces Academy at Lackland AFB, it was my responsibility to educate and train military and civilian government personnel from Latin American countries, including Mexico, in technical and professional disciplines. Throughout all those experiences, it was my pride and joy to be a guardian of and advocate for the democratic values system that has made the

U.S. the world’s bastion of freedom, and the prickly thorn of totalitarian and undemocratic regimes.

My family and I experienced tense and unsettling moments in Spain and Chile when force and intimidation became the means by which disgruntled military, backed by civilian fanatics in positions of power, tried to achieve what democratic processes and institutions legitimately denied them.

In Spain, the military feared the country was heading in the wrong direction under its new parliamentary democracy after 36 years of the military dictatorship of Francisco Franco. A military coup d’état was launched in February 1981 with the storming of the legislative building, the historic Palacio de las Cortes, which was in session to elect a new prime minister. It failed thanks to the firm hand and prompt intervention of King Juan Carlos, who put a decisive stop to it — a courageous stand absent Jan. 6. The coup attempt was short-lived, but it caused panic among the civilian population across Spain, including us.

In May 1993, Chilean Army Special Forces (Black Berets) units, armed and dressed in combat gear, entered the capital city of Santiago in personnel carriers on a Friday afternoon and positioned themselves as a security detail surrounding the army’s headquarters building. It was a show of military strength intended to intimidate the country’s president into abandoning his government’s investigation of alleged corruption activities by the son of the former dictator-president (1973-1990) and, at the moment, commander of the army, Gen. Augusto Pinochet. That was followed three days later by the announcement of military maneuvers at the army’s infantry school, attended by Pinochet dressed in combat uniform. It was all part of an intimidation plot to shield himself and his family from public exposure of fraudulent schemes.

Indeed, years later, it was discovered the former dictator had stashed away millions of dollars in Caribbean banks. But justice prevailed. He was arrested in England on an international warrant, and most of his family faced legal charges, including his wife. His legacy as an anti-communist crusader and savior of the Chilean economy was permanently shattered. He spent his last years of life powerless under house arrest as he, through his team of lawyers, dodged prosecution for crimes against humanity amply documented.

Both of these attempts to usurp the will of the people ultimately failed. The rule of law and order were subsequently restored, and both countries prospered.

Yet even as despicable as these events I witnessed in foreign countries were, they didn’t embody the vandalism and vindictive vitriol our nation witnessed Jan. 6. The desecration of our temple of civil legislative discourse was abominable. It pained me to watch it unfold.

Saddened by the images, my daughter texted me, “I know it was exponentially difficult for you to see such destruction in our democracy — which you protected and proudly represented for years. I can only hope and pray the worst is behind us.”

And so do I.