A Short History of U.S. Intervention in Guatemala

When people ask why a country is the way it is today, the answer is rarely simple. However, history often provides valuable insights into the forces that have shaped its path. In the case of Guatemala, a relatively unknown country in Central America with about 18 million inhabitants, once the fourth richest in the region but now near the bottom, one of the most significant factors has been U.S. intervention. The Cold War brought a wave of American involvement that dramatically altered its trajectory. The story of American intervention in Guatemala unfolds as follows:

The story begins in 1945 when Juan José Arévalo rose to power in the country’s first free elections. A social democrat with bold ideas, Arévalo championed progressive reforms, introducing social security and launching ambitious infrastructure projects modeled after FDR’s New Deal. At the time, Guatemala enjoyed a strong currency and consistent fiscal surpluses, reflecting a stable and growing economy. Despite this, the U.S. pressured his administration to establish even more Washington-oriented policies, which in this case was a central bank. This institution would later prove to be both a blessing and a curse for the nation.

A particularly dark and shocking episode of U.S. intervention in Guatemala was the Guatemala Syphilis Experiments, a secret medical study conducted by the U.S. Public Health Service from 1946 to 1948. Under the guise of medical services, American doctors deliberately infected over 1,500 Guatemalans—including prisoners, psychiatric patients, soldiers, children, and even prostitutes—with syphilis, gonorrhea, and chancroid without their knowledge. The stated goal was to study the effects of these diseases and test treatments like penicillin. However, many victims were left untreated, suffering severe and lasting health consequences, with some dying as a result. The experiments, led by Dr. John Charles Cutler, didn't yield any conclusive results—one of the biggest human rights abuses in the region, and all for nothing.

Following Arévalo, Jacobo Árbenz took the reins of power, bringing hopes for further transformation. However, in 1954, his presidency came to an abrupt and violent end, marking the first CIA-backed coup in Latin America under President Dwight D. Eisenhower. Often described as one of the most tragic episodes in the region’s history, the coup branded Árbenz as a communist. His agrarian reform, which aimed to redistribute land and empower rural communities, along with his connections to the Guatemalan Communist Party, deeply alarmed Washington. To this day, it remains highly debated whether Árbenz was truly a communist or simply a reformist leader. Despite refraining from implementing overtly communist policies, his administration was overthrown. The coup installed Carlos Castillo Armas, a U.S. ally, who swiftly clamped down on dissent, censoring socialist voices and outlawing their political participation—sowing seeds of radicalization among the left that would resonate for decades.

As a side story, the coup against Árbenz played a key role in the radicalization of Ernesto "Che" Guevara. Before arriving in Guatemala in late 1953, Guevara was a moderate socialist, interested in reform but not yet committed to violence. Drawn to the Árbenz government’s progressive policies, he saw Guatemala as a model for social change. However, witnessing the U.S.-backed coup firsthand shattered his belief in peaceful reform. The swift downfall of Árbenz convinced him that socialism could not be achieved through democratic means alone, but required revolution and armed struggle. This turning point solidified his anti-imperialist convictions and led him to embrace guerrilla warfare as the only viable path to socialism. Fleeing to Mexico after the coup, Guevara met Fidel Castro and joined the Cuban Revolution, determined to overthrow the Batista regime through force—a strategy he would later attempt to replicate across Latin America.

Returning to the main story, with Árbenz overthrown and Castillo Armas in power, the instability was far from over. In 1957, Castillo Armas was assassinated, reportedly under orders from Rafael Trujillo, the Dominican Republic’s infamous dictator and a CIA collaborator. The political vacuum deepened Guatemala’s instability. By 1958, Ydígoras Fuentes had assumed the presidency, but his unpopularity led to elections planned for 1963. In a dramatic twist, as Juan José Arévalo returned to Guatemala to run for office, a coup was greenlit by U.S. President John F. Kennedy. Arévalo fled the country, and Enrique Peralta Azurdia assumed power. His regime slammed the door on political space for the left, igniting a civil war that would engulf the nation for decades.

The civil war was a dark chapter in Guatemala’s history, marked by unimaginable atrocities and thousands of deaths. Leaders during this period committed war crimes and faced accusations of genocide, allegedly targeting indigenous communities. The shadow of Washington loomed large, as most of these leaders were backed by the CIA. Two coup d'états later, rigged elections orchestrated by the military, and even a self-coup, the war finally came to an end. This brutal conflict persisted for nearly 40 years, concluding in 1996 with the signing of the Peace Accords under the presidency of Álvaro Arzú. Despite this, the scars of the war remain visible to this day.

In the 1980s, a new economic storm brewed. Ronald Reagan’s Volcker Shock sent ripples across Latin America, exposing the vulnerabilities of the U.S.-imposed central banking model. As you may recall, Guatemala had adopted this system decades earlier under pressure from the United States, despite not needing it at the time. The crisis, often referred to as the "Lost Decade," erased ten years of economic development across the region. For Guatemala, however, the impact was even more severe. Inflation soared to 50%, and the currency collapsed, plummeting from parity with the U.S. dollar to an exchange rate of 1:7. The economic downturn was so devastating that, according to the World Bank, it took Guatemala 25 years to regain its pre-crisis GDP per capita. Had the central banking model not been imposed, Guatemala might have been better positioned to weather the storm, potentially avoiding the worst of the crisis.

The civil war, which also unfolded in neighboring Central American countries, had far-reaching consequences beyond the battlefield. In the 1980s, the United States accepted thousands of Central American refugees, many of whom fled to Los Angeles. However, there was no structured plan to integrate these refugees into civil society or the economy. As a result, amidst the peak of Reagan’s War on Drugs, some of these refugees turned to drug dealing and eventually became gang members. Influenced by the ghetto culture and black gangs in LA at the time, these Central Americans adopted the violent dynamics of their environment.

In 1990, under a new immigration act introduced by George H. W. Bush, many of these former refugees, now hardened gang members, were deported back to Central America, particularly to Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador. Their return marked the beginning of a new wave of violence. These gangs, shaped by American ghetto culture and the drug wars, quickly gained power, exploiting weak institutions and social unrest in their home countries. By the 2010s, these nations had become some of the most dangerous in the world.

As the 21st century unfolded, U.S. influence in Guatemala shifted toward more subtle yet equally damaging forms of intervention. The CICIG (International Commission Against Impunity in Guatemala) was initially established under George W. Bush’s administration to combat paramilitary organizations that had emerged in the post-civil war era. However, under Barack Obama’s administration, the institution took a different turn, focusing on corruption and broader judicial reforms. Funded by international NGOs and heavily supported by figures like Joe Biden, who made several visits to promote its agenda, CICIG was marketed as a tool to combat corruption but quickly became an instrument of political persecution and lawfare.

CICIG’s influence extended to profound changes in the judicial system. It spearheaded reforms to the penal code and created specialized courts with expanded independence, ostensibly to strengthen the rule of law. However, these changes left the judiciary with unchecked power, enabling it to target individuals selectively. The result was a system where pretrial detention became a tool of punishment, with countless innocent individuals spending years in prison without a fair trial or facing sentences far shorter than their time served in detention. The collateral damage was immense. Families were shattered, society became increasingly polarized, and public institutions were viewed with suspicion. CICIG’s legacy, far from eradicating corruption, left behind a judicial apparatus prone to abuse, a nation deeply divided, and a justice system tainted by foreign interference and internal bias.

As part of its controversial tenure, CICIG played a pivotal role in the political crisis of 2015, which led to the resignation of President Otto Pérez Molina. Pérez Molina, widely seen as a corrupt and deeply flawed leader, was accused of orchestrating a massive corruption network known as "La Línea." While his resignation was celebrated as a victory against corruption, his eventual release from prison has cast doubt on the prosecution’s legitimacy. Many now argue that it was not merely a legal case but an actual political coup orchestrated under the guise of justice, further cementing CICIG’s role as a tool for politically motivated intervention.

In 2016, Jimmy Morales, an anti-establishment candidate, rose to the presidency, vowing to reclaim Guatemala’s sovereignty. He expelled CICIG, but the institutional changes it left behind remained deeply entrenched. The unchecked power of the judiciary would later become a key tool in political struggles. By 2023, this machinery turned against Bernardo Arévalo, the son of former president Juan José Arévalo, who had been elected president on a platform of reform and progress. In a bitter twist of irony, the same institutions that once promised to fight corruption were now weaponized to undermine his presidency in what many saw as a slow-motion coup.

In the end, Bernardo Arévalo was finally recognized as president, but his challenges were far from over. With his party holding a minority in Congress, Arévalo struggled to navigate a deeply fragmented political landscape. One of his most immediate hurdles was securing the election of a congress president who would support his administration’s reform agenda. Facing a deadlock, Arévalo turned to U.S. intervention to help resolve the crisis.

In 2024, a pivotal meeting took place at the residence of U.S. Ambassador Patrick Ventrell, where Arévalo met with congressional leaders from various parties. The purpose of the meeting appeared to be finding a way to break the political impasse. The very next day, a congress president was successfully elected, allowing Arévalo to move forward. However, the circumstances surrounding the election sparked controversy. Álvaro Arzú Jr., son of former President Álvaro Arzú and a sitting congressman, argues that the U.S. exerted pressure on certain congressmen, through threats of visa revocations or other sanctions, to secure the outcome.

As a footnote to Guatemala's struggles, other forms of U.S. pressure have also left their mark, albeit to a lesser extent. The 2008 subprime mortgage crisis, a global financial meltdown largely attributed to policies under George W. Bush's administration, sent economic shockwaves through Guatemala, slowing growth and stalling development. Similarly, the COVID-19 lockdown measures, pushed under Donald Trump’s administration and influenced by Dr. Anthony Fauci’s policies, created additional economic strain. While these events did not devastate the country as severely as past interventions, they significantly hindered Guatemala's economic momentum during those years, illustrating the far-reaching consequences of U.S. policies on the region’s stability and growth.

Conclusion

As seen through various administrations—Republican and Democrat alike—the United States has consistently intervened in Guatemala under different pretexts: combating communism, modernizing economic institutions, fighting corruption, or promoting democracy. While the intentions have varied, the reality is that the unintended consequences of these actions have deeply harmed the country and hindered its development.

Guatemala has endured thousands of deaths, destroyed families, and a polarized society. These interventions have fueled violence, crime, and the rise of powerful gangs, leaving the country with some of the lowest human development indicators in the region. Malnourishment and poverty persist, forcing countless Guatemalans to migrate in search of a better life, contributing to a massive migration crisis that also affects the United States. The country's institutions have been weakened, trust in governance eroded, and economic growth repeatedly stalled by crises triggered or exacerbated by foreign interference.

When people are quick to blame the people of Guatemala for the state of their country, it is crucial to examine history for a deeper understanding. The roots of Guatemala’s challenges cannot be divorced from decades of American intervention and the consequences of decisions made far from its borders. Sometimes it is said that people have the government they deserve, but after reading this history, one must ask: do they really?