Monday, Aug. 10, 1987

"It's Very Difficult to Accept"

By Jacob V. Lamar Jr

After eleven weeks of testimony from 28 witnesses, the congressional committees probing the Iran-contra affair finally heard from the investigator who brought the scandal to light and the official who presided over the White House staff while the ill-conceived policy was unfolding. Neither Attorney General Edwin Meese nor former Chief of Staff Don Regan did much to shake the devastating portrait that has emerged from the hearings of a secret foreign- policy apparatus run amuck and key officials more concerned with pulling together a convincing alibi than getting to the bottom of the tangled tale.

Meese's account of his four-day inquiry into the Administration's arms-for- hostages deals with Iran last November added little to the bafflingly incomplete picture that he presented last fall. Smugly defending his effort, Meese proclaimed, "We were able to piece together a basic outline of what is now known as the Iran-contra story, which has been essentially validated during the extensive investigations which have occurred since."

For all his bland composure, Meese's description of the "fact-finding" mission left the impression of an incurious, if not downright obtuse, investigator who failed to keep notes of crucial interviews with key players in the scandal or follow up on hints that laws might have been broken. In amiable tones, he told of how on Nov. 23 he confronted National Security Council Aide Lieut. Colonel Oliver North with a memorandum describing the diversion to Nicaraguan rebels of profits from Iranian arms sales. He did not ask North if the President had approved it.

Meese did not seal North's office or secure any of the colonel's documents until four days after the memo was found because, he testified, there was still "no obvious criminality" involved. Alerted by his conversation with the Attorney General, North returned to his office that night for a shredding session that lasted from 11 p.m. to 4:15 a.m. Responding to questions about his lackadaisical dealings with North, Meese blithely maintained that the papers North destroyed were probably "irrelevant."

Meese explained his failure to take notes during meetings with many of the key figures in the scandal by claiming that he was engaging only in "casual conversations" and not trying to gain "great amounts of information." One such chat occurred at the home of Director of Central Intelligence William Casey, whom North has depicted as a sponsor of the diversion scheme, just hours after the incriminating memo was found. Meese insisted that he did not discuss the transfer of funds to the contras with Casey. The Attorney General described a laid-back talk about the diversion with Vice Admiral John Poindexter, who told him, "Ollie has given me enough hints about this so that I generally knew, but I did nothing to follow up or stop it." Satisfied with that reply, Meese did not press the National Security Adviser on whether he had authorized the diversion or informed the President about it.

Meese's inability to recall details of crucial meetings and conversations that took place while the scandal was breaking failed to sway some members of the committee. When Maine Senator George Mitchell, a Democrat, said he found some of the Attorney General's statements "very difficult to accept," Meese came close to losing his temper. "What I have told you is the absolute truth of what happened," he said, "and so if there's any question in your mind, I want to get that settled right now." Mitchell shrugged and retorted, "I just said it's hard to accept."

After Meese's stolidity and forgetfulness, Don Regan came across as a refreshing model of candor and good humor. In the days before his ouster five months ago, Regan was denigrated as an iron-fisted martinet whose poor advice to the President had only worsened the scandal. But Regan gave blunt answers to the committees and cracked self-deprecating jokes about his tenure in Washington. Describing the President as "not the type that likes to go around firing people," Regan quipped, "That's an ironic statement coming from me." It was clear that Regan had less of a grip on the White House than was once believed. He was kept in the dark about much of the Iran-contra affair. Playing off a question about the proper role of a "fall guy" protecting a | superior from embarrassment, Regan produced one of the hearings' memorable lines: "I don't mind spears in the breast. It's knives in the back that concern me."

Regan defended the President's intentions in trying to get American hostages back from Lebanon in return for U.S. weapons, and stated his certainty that Reagan knew nothing of the diversion to the contras. But one of his disclosures could prove damaging to the President. Since the early days of the scandal, there has been confusion over whether Reagan knew of or authorized the initial sale by Israel of American-made Hawk missiles to the Iranians in November 1985. Last fall some members of the Administration said the Israeli shipment contained only oil-drilling equipment. According to Regan, that claim was a "cover story" that the President and his aides had concocted for use if the weapons deal was ever exposed.

Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger began his testimony last Friday by declaring that he once believed his repeated advice to the President to reject the Iranian arms deals had succeeded in having "this baby strangled in its cradle." He cited a fundamental flaw in the effort to reach out to Iranian moderates. Said the Secretary: "I didn't think there were any moderates still alive in Iran." Astonishingly, Weinberger had to learn details of the Iran initiative from another country's intelligence reporting.

After the hearings end this week, the President is expected to carry out his promise, figuratively if not literally, to "stand on the roof and yell." For some of his former staffers, however, the ordeal may be far from over. Independent Counsel Lawrence Walsh is expected to start handing up indictments of the key players this month.

With reporting by Hays Gorey/Washington