All Disquiet on the Southern Front

By James Kelly

The U.S. hardens its line on El Salvador, and confusion results

Just about the time John Paul II was preparing to leave for Central America, the Reagan Administration suddenly, and perhaps deliberately, began sounding alarm bells about El Salvador. Amid reports that leftist rebels were regaining the initiative in their struggle to topple the government, Ronald Reagan announced that he wanted $60 million in emergency military aid to El Salvador. The President was also considering an increase in the number of U.S. military advisers in the country, now informally set at a maximum of 55, together with an expansion of their duties. Finally, an American envoy was dispatched to El Salvador to persuade the country's leaders to advance the date of presidential elections from March 1984 to some time later this year in order to dramatize the Salvadoran commitment to democracy. Said a White House official: "It could be just a matter of weeks before that government could go under altogether."

The aura of urgency recalled former Secretary of State Alexander Haig's controversial efforts to cast El Salvador's rebellion as a major East-West conflict. After Haig left office last summer, the Administration lowered the volume on its talk about Soviet subversion and the threat posed to the U.S. Yet officials made it clear last week that the Administration's basic view on Central America remained the same. Reagan depicted the Salvadoran conflict in its starkest ideological colors. "We believe that the government of El Salvador is on the front line in a battle that is really aimed at the very heart of the Western Hemisphere, and eventually at us," he told an audience at San Francisco's Commonwealth Club. "If El Salvador should fall, I think Costa Rica, Honduras, Panama -- all of those would follow."

Unfortunately, the Administration damaged its own cause with perplexing, often contradictory, statements. There was much confusion about whether Reagan did indeed plan to send more advisers. Washington had hoped that its idea for early elections would be seen solely as a Salvadoran initiative, but the top U.S. official entrusted with the negotiations blabbed about them within earshot of a reporter. The bungling made a skittish Congress even more skeptical of White House plans. Conceded an Administration official: "This is an unfortunate way to do business. We're talking first and deciding what we mean afterward."

Last March's elections, in which 74% of those eligible voted, gave the government an indisputable legitimacy and seemed to justify the Reagan Administration's policy of supplying arms while pressing for reforms. Instead of talking about winning the war, Administration officials tried to bolster the economy and make the political system more democratic. They encouraged the newly elected Constituent Assembly, led by Rightist Roberto d'Aubuisson, to pursue a program of land redistribution and to improve the country's lamentable human rights record.

This winter, however, the guerrillas launched an offensive that enabled them to score several psychologically damaging victories by briefly holding the towns of Berlin, Corinto and Meanguera. Alarmed, Lieut. General Wallace H. Nutting, head of the U.S. Southern Command in Panama, sent National Security Adviser William P. Clark a report that the military situation in El Salvador was actually far worse than the U.S. embassy was saying.

The past fortnight's change in the Administration's tone, however, is largely the work of U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations Jeane Kirkpatrick. After a ten-day fact-finding trip to the region last month, she gave the President an exceptionally gloomy report. Backed by Clark, she repeated her longstanding conviction that if El Salvador fell to the rebels, the rest of Central America would be imperiled. Only an immediate infusion of aid to El Salvador, she told Reagan, could stave off the sound of falling dominoes.

Disturbed by Kirkpatrick's presentation, Reagan ordered a "full review" of Central American policy. His first priority was money. Instead of approving the request for $86.3 million in military aid to El Salvador for 1983 (up from $82 million spent in 1982), the last Congress had authorized only $26 million. According to the Administration, the Salvadorans have already spent the $26 million, primarily during the guerrilla offensive.

In a pitch for more funds, Reagan summoned congressional leaders of both parties to a hastily arranged White House meeting last week. After a briefing by Kirkpatrick, Reagan put forward a passionate case for the $60 million in emergency aid. But any support gained in that meeting was imperiled the same afternoon. As Reagan flew to California to greet Queen Elizabeth, a top White House official told reporters aboard Air Force One that the Administration was also considering an increase in the number of U.S. military "trainers," now limited to 55. The aide also hinted that the roles of the trainers might be enlarged. The subject remains highly sensitive on Capitol Hill, where some members of Congress find it politically prudent to recall that U.S. involvement in the Viet Nam War began with only a handful of advisers. Soon after reporters began filing their stories from Air Force One, a Pentagon spokesman confirmed that the Defense Department was considering lifting the ceiling on trainers. But White House Deputy Press Secretary Larry M. Speakes denied the report. Reagan settled that matter at week's end by stating that "we may want to go beyond 55." However, he was careful to allay fears of open-ended escalation. "In no sense are we speaking of participation in combat by American troops," he said. "There is no parallel whatsoever with Viet Nam."

Meanwhile, Administration officials kept delivering bleak predictions. Appearing before a Senate subcommittee, Secretary of State George Shultz explicitly tied the fate of El Salvador to the rest of the isthmus, including Mexico, "with which we have a long border." The testimony of the usually cautious Shultz surprised reporters and Congressmen alike and served as perhaps the best evidence of the Administration's tougher stance. Nestor D. Sanchez, Deputy Assistant Defense Secretary, told House members that the Salvadoran army might run out of ammunition in 30 days. William Schneider Jr., Under Secretary of State for Security Assistance, confirmed the alarming statistic, which the El Salvador military had denied, by saying it would prove true if "Nicaragua decided to invade with a 40,000-man army." Gerry Studds, Democratic Congressman from Massachusetts, riposted that "I'm sure we could run out of ammunition ourselves if we made certain assumptions."

On Thursday, two Republicans, Senator Mark Hatfield of Oregon and Congressman Jim Leach of Iowa, introduced a bill to cut off all military aid and withdraw U.S. advisers unless the Salvadoran government launched "good faith" negotiations with the guerrillas. The Reagan Administration insists the rebels must lay down their arms before any such talks can begin, a stipulation the rebels have refused to accept. There is no chance that the legislation proposed by Hatfield and Leach will pass. Nonetheless, House Speaker Tip O'Neill predicted that any request for an additional $60 million in military aid to El Salvador would be defeated. (By comparison, Congress last year authorized $2.5 billion in total military and economic aid to Israel.)

Nor did Washington's latest diplomatic ploy go precisely as planned. A few weeks ago, State Department officials decided to try to persuade the government of Provisional President Alvaro Alfredo Magana to advance the elections scheduled for March 1984. They hoped that the announcement would enhance their case for continued military aid, while blunting any call by the Pope for a negotiated settlement. Richard Stone, a former Democratic Senator from Florida who was appointed special ambassador for "public diplomacy" earlier this year, handled the task. Accompanied by two National Security Council staffers, Stone flew to San Salvador two weeks ago. In secret meetings he urged the leaders to announce the new election plan last Sunday, the very day of the Pope's visit. Until then, Stone argued, Americans should keep the plan secret to ensure that it would appear to be a purely Salvadoran initiative.

On Monday, Stone and his companions left San Salvador on a TACA International Airlines flight bound for Miami. During the stopover in Belize, a vacationing television reporter from Tampa, Mark Feldstein, boarded the plane. He settled into a seat in front of the Stone party and leaned back for a nap. Feldstein soon realized that the men behind him were drafting statements for Reagan and the Salvadoran President about the election announcement. At one point, one of Stone's companions noted, "That's worded for domestic political consumption." Feldstein grabbed an air-sickness bag and began to scribble down what he was hearing. As the plane drew near Miami, he approached Stone and told him that he was a reporter. Stone asked him if he had overheard anything; when Feldstein said yes, the ambassador tried to talk him out of using the story. Said Feldstein: "He said that I could destroy our sole chance for a nonmilitary solution in El Salvador. I told him if all this were true, then he shouldn't be discussing it on a commercial plane." Feldstein's station, WTSP-TV, broke the story the next night. Stone's gaffe not only threatened to wreck the deal but showed the U.S. in the unflattering light of a manipulator of events in El Salvador. Nevertheless, the El Salvador government has reportedly decided to advance the election date.

The Reagan Administration, meanwhile, is deeply dissatisfied with the performance of the Salvadoran military machine. Its commanders insist on broad and expensive battalion-size sweeps of the countryside, rather than the small-unit, anti-insurgent tactics urged by the U.S. trainers. The high command is rife with political infighting. Complains an official close to Reagan: "We have to deal with barracks politics as well as the attitude of 9-to-5 fighting."

The Administration itself sometimes appears to be divided on Salvadoran policy, with hard-liners like Kirkpatrick and Clark pitted against more moderate policymakers at State. When Thomas O. Enders, Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs, reportedly suggested that perhaps the time had come at least to explore the idea of holding talks with the guerrillas, the notion was quickly squelched.

There are compelling reasons for the U.S. to support the Salvadoran government and to continue to supply military aid, but so far the Administration has not presented its case well. If, for example, the Salvadorans ran through $26 million in a few months, how long will $60 million last? By once again thrusting El Salvador to the top of its foreign policy agenda, the Reagan Administration has, wittingly or not, raised the political stakes in the increasingly difficult debate over the future of Central America.

--

By James Kelly.

Reported by Timothy Loughran/ San Salvador and Johanna McGeary/ Washington

With reporting by Timothy Loughran, Johanna McGeary This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.