Shadow Play

By Jill Smolowe

The men who run Haiti are not afraid to defy the world. Last week junta leader Lieut. General Raoul Cedras, the army strongman blocking the return of democratically elected President Jean-Bertrand Aristide, cavalierly engineered the installation of an 81-year-old crony as the military's handpicked President, in direct challenge to the U.S. A minority of right-wing legislators, including eight elevated after irregular elections organized by the military last year, declared that under the constitution, Aristide's long absence left them no choice but to appoint a successor. As a 21-gun salute boomed over the capital, Supreme Court Justice Emile Jonassaint was sworn in, in a technical coup intended to prevent Aristide from ever coming back. Standing right by Jonassaint's shoulder was Cedras.

The move left Bill Clinton fumbling for an effective retort just when he had adopted stern new measures himself. He had persuaded the United Nations to harden sanctions against Haiti's outlaw regime. He had announced a new asylum policy that would end the unpopular practice of forcibly repatriating Haitian refugees without a hearing. He had appointed William Gray III, head of the United Negro College Fund, as Washington's new Haiti czar. Now he dangled threats of a military invasion of the island nation.

For their efforts, Haiti's junta leaders were condemned by governments around the world, which refused to recognize the newly seated puppet President. Yet Clinton was back where he started: in a fog of indecision, with the U.N., the Organization of American States and just about everyone else waiting for him to provide presidential vision. The breathing space he had hoped to give himself by tightening the economic embargo on Haiti -- which will go into effect May 21 -- has already been undermined by his Administration's accelerated hints of possible military action. "The Administration is drifting toward intervention in some form," says Georges Fauriol, director of the Americas program at Washington's Center for Strategic and International Studies.

The official White House line was a flat denial that an invasion is imminent, but the signals emanating from the Cabinet were more mixed. A report in Wednesday's Los Angeles Times, which stated that the U.S. was readying "600 heavily armed and protected troops" to purge the Haitian military, prompted Secretary of Defense William Perry to comment, "I didn't recognize it as any plan we're working on." The same report drew from Secretary of State Warren Christopher a less guarded response: "That's the kind of force that's being discussed." U.N. Ambassador Madeleine Albright weighed in with an ambiguous "We are not ruling anything in or out."

Administration officials admit privately that the President does not know what move to make next. The prospect of tougher sanctions and the appointment of a new envoy revive the possibility of negotiations -- but probably not until the bite of the embargo is felt months from now. While no one seems eager to invade, as National Security Adviser Anthony Lake said, "it is an option. We, of course, are looking at it."

For all its seeming decisiveness, military intervention is fraught with long-term complications. Going in would be easy; getting out would be hard. Pacifying the Haitian military could be done quickly; disarming bands of antidemocratic thugs could be a nightmare. Restoring Aristide to power looks simple; re-establishing his authority might be impossible. Dismantling Haiti's junta should take just hours; erecting a democratic alternative could take years. "Conquering the Haitian army is not a serious military challenge," says a Navy officer who works with the Joint Chiefs of Staff. "The serious challenge is what we do after that. It's tough to come up with a good exit strategy."

Officials familiar with Pentagon planning speculate that the U.S. could opt for what the military euphemistically calls a "nighttime insertion" along the lines of the 1989 invasion of Panama that toppled Manuel Noriega. Thousands of troops, mostly pulled from the Army's 82nd and 101st Airborne divisions and Marine forces, would sweep onto the island under cover of dark. They would detain Haiti's military leaders and disable their communications network. Little resistance would be anticipated since the Haitian army numbers only about 7,000 troops and its arsenal amounts to a handful of armored personnel carriers and five tanklike, armored reconnaissance vehicles. "We can finish up their military by dawn," says an official. That may be a bit optimistic. U.S. troops went plowing into Panama thinking they would seize Noriega within hours; the effort took more than a week. In Somalia American G.I.s lost 18 men trying unsuccessfully to capture warlord General Mohammed Farrah Aidid.

Once in control, thousands more U.S. troops would fan out across the impoverished island to distribute food and medical supplies and pacify the countryside. Military officers predict that this part of the operation could involve something on the order of the 25,000 troops used in Panama. They reason that after the debacle of the U.S.S. Harlan County last October, when 193 U.S. soldiers retreated in the face of pier-side taunts from a few pistol- wielding thugs, Clinton would not want to leave any doubt about U.S. military strength. "Because we've got no credibility anymore," says a / Pentagon officer, "we need more force than we might otherwise require." Meanwhile, airplanes would fly over Haiti, transmitting messages from Aristide to Haitian televisions, paving the way for his return.

That could pose fresh problems. The country's elite and businessmen question whether Aristide truly aims to foster Haiti's democratic inclinations or merely intends to supplant military rule with another version of authoritarian command. They also fear that Aristide's supporters will seek to punish the business community -- that is if the embargo doesn't ruin it first. Should tougher U.N. sanctions go into effect at week's end, Aristide may once again feel pressured to find a nonmilitary solution. "Aristide can't be a perpetual naysayer," says Larry Birns of the Washington-based Council for Hemispheric Affairs. "His popularity is fading on the island. He's now identified with the suffering going on."

By returning in the wake of a U.S. invasion, Aristide would surely be perceived as an American puppet by many Haitians. At the same time, he continues to stir antipathy at the U.S. embassy in Port-au-Prince. Earlier this month officials leaked a confidential cable that had been sent to Washington charging that Aristide and his supporters "manipulate or even fabricate human-rights abuses as a propaganda tool." The deposed President's followers called for the ouster of several U.S. embassy diplomats -- hardly auspicious for the partnership. Even if Aristide's return could be orchestrated smoothly, he would encounter a far different situation than existed when he was chased from power in 1991. The democratic institutions and grass-roots organizations that helped him secure the presidency have been dismantled, their leaders forced into hiding by promilitary gunmen who operate under the name of the Front for the Advancement and Progress of Haiti (FRAPH). The front's forces are unlikely to surrender, and can be expected to threaten Aristide supporters and U.S. troops alike. "They'll make it into a guerrilla war," warns a defense official.

While Aristide would have plenty of foes to reckon with, he would have no democratic infrastructure to lean on, no community organizations to assist his restoration plans, no security apparatus to help enforce his authority. The only buttress against anarchy would be the presence of U.S. troops. That could make for a very long occupation -- far longer than the U.S. Congress or the American and Haitian people have the patience to endure.

Small wonder then that Clinton is finding little support for either unilateral or multilateral military action. Last Wednesday the OAS rejected the option of a U.S.-led intervention. France, which has stood beside Washington in championing Aristide's return, said it would not participate in such a move. The House Republican Policy Committee warned that intervention would be a "serious and costly mistake."

As Clinton struggled to decide his next move, Haiti's henchmen were doing much the same. At week's end Jonassaint was desperately seeking people to join his Cabinet. According to Daniel Phillipe, who is slated to be chief of staff to the incoming President: "We are having trouble getting people to become ministers." He says prospective candidates have been frightened away by "people claiming to be calling for the U.S. embassy" who threaten CIA retribution or the revocation of U.S. visas. "We frankly don't know if these calls are really from U.S. officials, Aristide people or FRAPH," Phillipe says. But "already five people we thought would be ministers have said now they won't serve."

Phillipe insists that Jonassaint will honor the Governors Island agreement signed by Aristide and Haiti's military leaders in New York last July -- as the U.S. has long demanded -- save one critical component: it will no longer accept Aristide's resumption of the presidency. The accord also requires the removal of military ruler Cedras. Phillipe claimed that talks have been opened with China in hopes of landing Cedras a face-saving ambassadorship. Zhao Hufei, the counselor at China's U.N. mission, confirmed that discussions were under way, saying, "Anything is possible if we have diplomatic relations with Haiti." Such relations do not exist because Aristide recognized rival Taiwan.

With rumors spreading last Friday that Cedras intended to step down, Haiti's high command summoned provincial commanders to Port-au-Prince for a secret strategy meeting. The new rump government was expected to solve one of the military's top concerns, the diminishing supply of gourdes, the local currency. In the six months since the U.N. imposed an oil and arms embargo, millions of dollars worth of gourdes have gone to the Dominican Republic to pay for black-market gasoline, which has helped keep the regime in power. Without a functioning government to authorize a run of the money presses, the military and its black-market allies were beginning to worry about their bank - accounts. Now, with Jonassaint in place to do their bidding, they will be laughing all the way to the bank again.

With reporting by Cathy Booth/Port-au-Prince, Michael Kramer/New York and Ann M. Simmons and Mark Thompson/Washington