I was a forty-something in the mid-1970’s, and for part of that time was Deputy Director of the State Department’s Office of Industrial and Strategic Materials. Since one of my main duties was to keep the Secretary of State informed of all significant developments regarding bauxite – the mineral ore from which aluminum is made – a familiarization trip to mines in Jamaica and Guyana was one of my first orders of business.
Jamaica was no problem. Each of the two mines there was of substantial size, and each had overnight accommodations available.
Guyana was something else again. I only had time enough to visit one of their two mines, and the economic counselor at our embassy in Georgetown, the Guyanese capital, told me over the phone that he had unilaterally decided I should visit the smaller and less interesting of the two. I was not happy with that decision, and asked for an explanation. He replied that the smaller outfit had a decent guesthouse in which I could overnight, whereas the larger mine had none. Going to the latter would require me to stay as a guest at a sort of religious commune that was located in the area. Its members were all Americans, but its accommodations were spartan at best.
I saw no problem in putting up with one night’s discomfort, so I asked him to make arrangements with the larger mine and the commune.
Less than an hour later, I received a call from our Ambassador in Guyana. He explained that the quality of the overnight accommodation was, of course, not the real reason. The Embassy had recently received an increasing number of "disturbing allegations" regarding goings-on at the commune, and – although there was no hard evidence to back these up – he no longer considered it a safe place for visitors to overnight.
Events a few months later, amply vindicated the Ambassador’s judgment. A congressman named Leo J. Ryan, troubled by reports he was getting from families of some of the commune’s adherents, decided to make a fact-finding visit to "Jonestown", as the commune had become unofficially known, after its charismatic leader, the Rev. Jim Jones. Following several days of fruitless negotiations in the Guyanese capital with Jones’ attorney, Ryan – accompanied by three of his staff members, the embassy’s #2 official, and nine media reps – took off for Jonestown without waiting for the commune’s consent.
Jones was deeply suspicious that this congressional visit might be the beginning of the "witch-hunt" against him that he had long predicted, and about which he had frequently warned his followers. Nevertheless, he received Ryan and his group with a veneer of courtesy that included dinner, a musical entertainment, and the opportunity to speak directly with many of the commune’s adherents. During the course of the evening, several of them told Ryan they wanted to leave with him. This fact may have convinced Jones that his fears were justified.
The next day, Saturday, November 18, 1978, the embassy officer radioed for a second plane so that the twenty-one persons who decided to leave with Ryan’s group could be accommodated. While both planes were boarding, several of Jones’ armed security force opened fire on them, killing the Congressman and three others, and seriously wounding another six. The smaller of the two planes managed to take off, and was able to report events to the air controllers, who called for armed assistance.
At the commune itself, meanwhile, Jones put into effect what was reportedly a long-planned and rehearsed mass suicide procedure, in which all members were made to drink cyanide-laced Kool-Aid. Those who did not drink were shot or – according to some reports – poisonedby injection. When rescuers finally arrived at dawn on Sunday the 19th, they found 913 bodies – men, women and children, plus 167 survivors.
* * *
I have occasionally wondered what I would have found at Jonestown had our ambassador not had the courage to back up his suspicions with an adamant refusal to allow me to go there. Certainly my own two-person visit would not have caused Jones the sort of "witch-hunt" fears that the congressional delegation did. But who knows what it takes to move a twisted mind towards action?
A more pertinent question is whether, had I gone there, I would have sensed the real depth of the weirdness that certainly must have permeated that place. And, if so, whether I would afterwards have had the moral courage to press my insights strongly enough to generate some action that might have averted the "Jonestown Kool-Aid Massacre."
© 2007 John J. St. John
