She Wore A Yellow Ribbon

By Ed Magnuson

Iran's display elicits relief, pain and anger

The second annual Christmas scenario for exhibiting the American hostages was cruelly strung out by Tehran's outrageous propagandists. After keeping the 52 hostages hidden from world view for eight months, Iran's squabbling authorities announced early in the week that not even a holiday visit by non-Iranian Christian clergymen would be permitted this year, a move that fed fears in the U.S. that some of the Americans were not well--or not even alive. For the first time the State Department said it had information that some of the hostages were not getting "adequate medical attention" and that some were being held, not in hotels, as the Iranians claimed, but in prisons.

Perhaps because of this, Tehran permitted a tantalizing peek into the captives' lives. On Christmas Eve, Monsignor Annibale Bugnini, who represents the Vatican as the papal nuncio in Iran, was allowed to visit the Americans. He was taken blindfolded in a car on a ride so short that he assumed he was still in Tehran. So great is the mistrust in the city that even the revolutionary guards who rode along in the car also were blindfolded as they approached the secret destination. For nearly four hours, the monsignor chatted, sang and prayed with some--but not all--of the hostages.

Yet on Christmas Day anxious relatives and other angry and frustrated Americans were permitted to see only a fleeting--and heavily edited--TV film clip of 16 of the hostages meeting the monsignor and three Iranian clergymen. There was no sound track. While a few of the Americans appeared to laugh or smile briefly, the general mood seemed somber. Americans at home could only wonder: Why were there no voices? How did the hostages really feel? Where were the others? Fears in the U.S. grew again.

Next day Tehran TV beamed fuller films back to the U.S. via satellite. This time, ten more hostages were shown. Eight more, seen only in photographs released by Pars, the Iranian news agency, brought the total shown to 34. One photo was of U.S. Charge d'Affaires Bruce Laingen, who has been held at the foreign ministry in Tehran. Some clearly had lost weight, but most looked reasonably healthy. And now their voices could be heard. Some sat beside the monsignor at a long table in a sparsely decorated--and thus unidentifiable--room. Only a Christmas tree brightened the scene. It was adorned with trinkets made by the Americans and topped by a yellow ribbon, a traditional American symbol of separated sweethearts. Some read statements into microphones; others spoke without notes. A few sat in easy chairs and looked into the cameras. Some stood alone. In the films, obviously censored once again, the voices were sometimes clipped abruptly. The shots of Robert Ode showed him starting his statement seated in one chair and finishing it in another.

With a poignant blend of sadness and stoicism, the hostages conveyed Christmas greetings to their Stateside families. The messages reflected their own understated hope that they might soon be free--and indirectly, outside Iran, inspired new resentment over the fact that they had been held for so long in such an unlawful way. Some of the scenes were moving and memorable:

Blinking back tears behind large horn-rimmed glasses, Kathryn Koob of Jesup, Iowa, sang the third stanza of Away in a Manger. Her voice cracked and quavered. "Be near me, Lord Jesus," she sang, as she asked her nieces and nephews to join in at home. "I ask thee to stay." Wearing a yellow ribbon in her dark hair, she said a shade more firmly: "I'm feeling good and I've lost weight, for which I'm grateful." Her hostage roommate at an undisclosed location, Elizabeth Ann Swift, appeared more controlled. "Merry Christmas to the whole family," she said. "Kate's a marvelous roommate. Tell everybody we're O.K." She too wore a yellow ribbon in her hair.

Balding and bearded, Jerry Miele pleaded with his family and friends in Pennsylvania and Ohio: "Please don't worry. I'm all right. I get depressed at times, but I'm doing fine." William Belk, whose long hair and beard are graying, managed to get a mild complaint past the censors. Greeting relatives in South Carolina and Seattle, he noted that "they're not receiving much of my mail, and I'm certainly not receiving much of their mail." Said Joseph Hall to his wife Cherilyn in Silver Spring, Md.: "I'm still out here--500 days tomorrow since we've seen each other. But I can hold on if you can, kid." Referring to his long hair, Robert Engelmann told his family in Hurst, Texas: "You probably don't recognize me. After 400 or so days, I guess we can hang on a little longer, hopefully not too much longer." Fighting back tears, Bruce German of Kensington, Md., addressed his "dear wife Marge" and said, "Since I can't be there in person, I'd like to think I'm there in spirit." Phillip Ward of Culpeper, Va., had some fatherly advice for his son Scott: "Continue the good work in school and help your mother around the house. And don't forget to feed the wild birds this winter; they'll probably be getting hungry."

But where--and how--were the other hostages? After the Tehran films had been transmitted, the Iranians televised a Tehran press conference with Algerian Ambassador Abdelkarim Gheraieb. His words were the most comforting yet. He said he and another Algerian diplomat had seen all 52 of the hostages and "found them all in good health." In Washington, the State Department revealed that it was to receive a more detailed report from the Ambassador when he arrived in the U.S. over the weekend. On a holiday vacation in Plains, Ga., President Carter said of the hostages: "They all seem quite well, and we are very pleased at that. [But] it's still imprisonment. It's still insulting to see them held as prisoners."

The outgoing U.S. President has taken the hostages' continued captivity as a personal, as well as national, insult. "The human element of this crisis has touched him emotionally just as it has the American public," said one of his aides. "The only difference is that he feels personally accountable for those 52 lives." Indeed, since his defeat in the November election, Carter has devoted much of his time to the technical details of the negotiations with Iran through Algerian middlemen. He had hoped that he might yet succeed in freeing the Americans and give his presidency something of an upbeat finale. Explained the aide: "This happened on our watch, and we all would have liked to write an end to it on our watch."

Now the President is embittered anew over Iran's demand that the U.S. deposit $24 billion* into an Algerian bank account, pending the unfreezing of Iranian funds in U.S. banks, and the location and return of the late Shah's assets. "We will not pay any ransom," snapped an angry Carter. "We have never been willing to even consider that."

Although the President and State Department could have been tempted to cut off further discussions with those whom Secretary of State Edmund Muskie publicly described as "very stubborn, irrational" Iranian officials, they vowed to keep channels of communication open with Tehran, even as they began to lose hope that any progress could be made in their remaining three weeks in office.

Washington blamed the latest impasse on what it regards as the inability of Iran's power-seeking factions to take a rational view of what is best for their nation. New political tensions within the country may also have contributed to the sudden toughening of Iran's demands, just as a solution had seemed possible. Travelers leaving Iran last week reported that increasingly violent demonstrations have broken out against Ayatullah Khomeini and the ruling Muslim mullahs. There have been almost daily street protests in Tehran, Shiraz, Tabriz, Isfahan and even the religious centers of Mashhad and Qum. One report estimated that 100 people had been killed in Tabriz when an anti-Khomeini crowd clashed with soldiers and revolutionary guards.

As the outgoing Carter Administration looked back over more than a year of frustrated efforts to free the Americans, some of its members privately voiced hindsight regrets. One high-level insider now thinks that an early show of military force, along the lines of the belated airborne assault that ended in tragic failure, might have been a smart tactic. But Carter still argues that a hasty plan, which could have ended in the death of some or all of the hostages, would have been far worse than the prolonged imprisonment. Nor does Carter subscribe to the argument of some that in effect the 52 lives have to be weighed coldly against broader interests of the U.S.

At week's end Tehran released yet another batch of Christmas-with-the-hostages TV films. The agony of this emotional yo-yo treatment incensed some of the captives' relatives in the U.S. "We're all being used," protested Dorothea Morefield, wife of U.S. Consul General Richard Morefield, as she watched her husband on TV in her San Diego home. "They're parading kidnap victims." Echoed Barbara Rosen of Brooklyn, N.Y., whose husband Barry is a hostage: "The Iranians are able to manipulate us. I don't want to see film clips of my husband and the other hostages. I want them brought home." Asked Louisa Kennedy, speaking for the hostages' Family Liaison Action Group in Washington: "Why are they doing this? Is it to soften us up so that we make demands on our Government that we shouldn't?"

In what looked like another propaganda ploy, Iranian Prime Minister Mohammed Ah' Raja'i invited various foreign diplomats and reporters to a meeting in Tehran on Saturday. His expressed position seemed to be as unyielding as ever. If the Iranian demands are not met, he said, the Americans may "never" be released. An Iranian official did add: "If we can have any other suggestion that would be like a guarantee, yes, we would listen."

At about the same time, U.S. Deputy Secretary of State Warren Christopher entered into lengthy meetings in Washington with the Algerian intermediaries who have been flying back and forth working on the hostage negotiations. The aim seemed to be to determine whether the Algerians saw any signs that Iran might budge from its high money demand. Only then could the U.S. decide when, and indeed whether, to try to break the deadlock by proposing any different financial settlement.

Barring an unexpected breakthrough, Ronald Reagan will inherit the excruciating hostage dilemma. He was visibly angered last week at the Iranian in ransigence. Said he: "Their captors are nothing better than criminals and kidnapers who have violated international law totally in taking these innocent people and holding them this long."

The next President and his wife Nancy have considerable compassion for the ordeal that Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter have experienced over the hostage question. Nancy Reagan recently told a friend that she hoped the Carters would have the consolation of seeing the hostages released before they left the White House. Said she: "It would have special meaning to them; it would be a wonderful thing for them personally." And, of course, for a frustrated nation as yet an other Christmas in captivity passes for 52 of its citizens. --By Ed Magnuson. Reported by Roberto Suro/Washington

* In current U.S. dollars, $24 billion could buy twelve nuclear-powered aircraft carriers, or 20 Trident nuclear submarines, or 1,714 F-15 jet-fighter aircraft. In nonmilitary equipment, it could buy 184,615 city buses--almost four times the number now in service throughout the U.S.

With reporting by Roberto Suro

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