New Breed of Activist Envoys

The U.S. Ambassador's hilltop residence in Managua, Nicaragua, is so imposing that it might easily be mistaken for a presidential palace or deluxe resort hotel. For decades the 20-room mansion was a fitting accessory to the role performed by a series of U.S. envoys. In those days, the American Ambassador was among the capital's top VIPS, acting as a kind of proconsul for U.S. commercial interests and as a guardian of the local status quo.

All that has changed. When Lawrence Pezzullo first arrived as U.S. Ambassador to Nicaragua, he abandoned the monumental official residence for smaller quarters. Pezzullo, 54, is one of a new breed of U.S. envoys in Central America who have come to be called the "activists." Their job is to promote human as and moderate reform, and to build bridges with the opposition as well as with the government. At the same time, they must think fast and, when necessary, take independent action without instructions from Washington. "Perhaps more than ambassadors anywhere else in the world," says one State Department official, "they are implementing policy."

Often described as "gutsy" and "street smart" by fellow diplomats, onetime School Teacher Pez zullo is judged to be particularly effective in developing personal ties with Nicaragua's revolutionary Sandinista rulers at a time when nation-to-nation bonds are anything but happy. Relations between Washington and Managua were especially sticky during congressional stalling on the $75 million aid package. By the time it was approved, the Sandinistas were no longer grateful, to say the least. Pezzullo, who had fought hard for the aid's passage, managed to minimize the political damage.

Pezzullo also played a hand in another touchy episode. He delicately indicated U.S. support for the Sandinista proposal to replace two moderate junta members, who had resigned, with representatives of similar beliefs. Says one of Pezzullo's superiors in Washington: "Larry had to make it clear as day that we considered private-sector representation on the junta a crucial matter, but he had to do it with such a light touch that the Sandinistas could not protest that we were bullying our way into their internal affairs."

Another vigorous advocate of reform has been Robert White, 53, the U.S. envoy in El Salvador. In a daring speech to the local Chamber of Commerce, White accused wealthy Salvadorans of resisting reforms and condoning repression. When barricaded in his residence by a rightist mob, he calmly sat out the siege, listening to classical music. Later, he escaped under a diversionary volley of tear gas fired by his Marine bodyguards. Says one official familiar with White's tactics: "When you are trying to promote economic growth, you write reports. When you're trying to stop torture, you have to get your hands dirty."

Conservative North Carolina Senator Jesse Helms has labeled White a "leftist" and a "dangerous ideologue," and he succeeded in holding up Senate approv al of White's appointment as ambassador for six weeks. In fact, White is on rec ord as be "It is very important that the armed leftist extreme not be victorious in El such and the U.S. will do everything it can to prevent such an outcome."

One envoy who has not fit the State Department's new bill for "fast action and flying from the seat of their pants," as one official overseeing Latin American policy describes it, is Frank Ortiz, U.S. Ambassador to Guatemala. A sophisticated career diplomat with a long, successful record, Ortiz, 54, was recently Guatemala's by some of his superiors of not being tough enough on Guatemala's military rulers, and of neglecting contacts with the opposition. After just one year on the job, Ortiz will be replaced by a vigorous human rights advocate, George Landau, 60, who as U.S. Ambassador to Chile did battle with President Augusto Pinochet's repressive regime.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.