Week of the Big Stick

By Evan Thomas.

Navy warplanes firing missiles at Libyan patrol boats. Army helicopters ferrying troops into the jungles of Central America. American might was unleashed and on display last week, resonating with echoes of fights for right and freedom from the halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli. As the images of far-flung war flickered over television screens, Americans could hardly be blamed for humming a bar or two from the Marines' Hymn--but not too loudly and more than a bit nervously.

To most Americans, smiting Libya's Muammar Gaddafi certainly felt good: taking up his "line of death" dare, double-daring him back, winning a public slapping match, sailing away. Yet, now what? America might seem just a bit less like a helpless giant, but could a breezy flick really be expected to chasten Gaddafi? And the sight of Army choppers kicking up dust in a foreign bush was disquieting, an eerie evocation of Apocalypse Now. In Ronald Reagan's two-front muscle flexing last week, the images and the reality were hard to sort out. Power, yes, and the will to use it, yes. But to what end? And with what effect? Will briefly disabling Gaddafi's radar mean less terrorism or more? Will aiding Honduras serve to keep Nicaragua at bay or drag U.S. troops into a thickening morass?

This much was certain: under President Reagan the U.S. is determined to back words with symbolic displays of force, to carry a big stick as well as speak loudly. To be sure, the battle of Sidra will be, at most, a footnote in the annals of naval engagements. Trafalgar or Midway it was not. And the helicopters whirring toward the battle zone in Honduras were not transporting American troops. Even the symbolism was curiously muted by partial pretexts --about concern for freedom of the seas and Honduran sovereignty--that served to blur the true aims of the actions. Nevertheless, in the wake of American-aided democratic triumphs in Haiti and the Philippines, the Administration last week was clearly feeling confident, seeking to show once again that the U.S. is willing to assume some carefully limited military risks.

If last week's show of force somehow seemed contrived, it was partly by political necessity. In the nuclear age, particularly after Viet Nam, the U.S. is perforce muscle-bound. It may have enough firepower to flatten the globe, yet Presidents are understandably loath to use force except under the most tightly circumscribed conditions. There is public opinion to worry about, as well as Congress and nervous allies, not to mention the Soviet Union. Even the Pentagon, still smarting from Viet Nam, is chary of waging war without unequivocal support.

Reagan's intent is unambiguous: to stop Gaddafi from fomenting terrorism and to stop Nicaraguan President Daniel Ortega Saavedra from spreading Marxist revolution. Indeed, Reagan would not mind going one step further and getting both men right off the world stage. But eliminating such nemeses is not so easy. For all his make-my-day bluster, Reagan is no less bound than were his immediate predecessors by rules of military engagement that, while rooted in the best democratic traditions, have been carried to unreal extremes: American boys should not be seen dying on the nightly news. Wars should be over in three days or less, or before Congress invokes the War Powers Resolution. Victory must be assured in advance. And the American public must be all for it from the outset.

To satisfy the onerous requirements of public relations both at home and abroad, Reagan had to find a pretext for sailing the Sixth Fleet into harm's way. But assuring free passage in international waters had only a little more to do with the actual reasons for sending ships across Gaddafi's line of death than rescuing American medical students did with invading Grenada in 1983; as pretexts go, it was about on a par with citing arms shipments to rebels in El Salvador in order to aid the contras in Nicaragua. Scoffed Senator Gary Hart of Colorado: "There is always some fig leaf being used."

By the same token, although the Nicaraguan incursion last week was very real, Reagan's decision to send $20 million in emergency aid to Honduras and to permit U.S. helicopters to ferry Honduran troops was very much a part of his larger struggle to rally congressional and public support for $100 million in aid to the contras. Set back by the House a week earlier, the Administration needed a win in the Senate to keep the aid package alive and unencumbered by too many strings. What better way of showing that the contras need help than to make the most of Nicaraguan troops crossing the border to attack the rebels in their Honduran sanctuaries? Speaking at a political fund raiser in New Orleans last week, Reagan was not subtle in his message: The Nicaraguan attack, he declared, was a "slap in the face" to those in Congress who voted against contra aid.

Administration spokesmen tried to transform public backing for standing up to Gaddafi into support for the less popular policy of aiding the contras. "Americans understand what type of people we have to deal with in this world," said White House Communications Director Patrick Buchanan, speaking of Gaddafi, "and they expect that from time to time we as a great power have to assert our right. That has to carry over into the Central America issue. & Sure, contra aid is a divisive issue in a dirty little war, but it takes courage to do what's right in that situation."

It was difficult to tell how seriously the targets of Reagan's bellicosity took it. On the night the Sixth Fleet sailed from the Gulf of Sidra, a fireworks display in Tripoli commemorating the 16th anniversary of the departure of the British military from Libya turned into a celebration of Gaddafi's latest skirmish with the U.S. In Nicaragua citizens enjoyed Holy Week by going to the beach, apparently unconcerned about the battle raging along the Honduran border. Nor did the President of Honduras, Jose Azcona Hoyo, seem overly concerned that his country was being invaded. He too went to the seashore for a vacation. For that matter, Reagan made no attempt to maintain a crisis atmosphere; at week's end he headed to his California ranch for Easter, stopping in New Orleans on the way.

Gaddafi's navy was no match for the Sixth Fleet. But aside from having the U.S. seem to stand tall again, it was difficult to discern any long-term strategic policy behind Reagan's show of force. In fact, long-range policies are in short supply in this Administration. Reagan swats a fly here or a gnat there while ignoring the insects' breeding areas. Says the President's former National Security Adviser Robert McFarlane of last week's action: "I don't see the kind of strategic framework that would make it a new phase. It is more a case of reacting to events."

Tweaking Gaddafi without defanging him may be like "wounding a dangerous animal," says Edward Luttwak, an analyst at Georgetown University's Center for Strategic and International Studies. Even a former foreign policy adviser to President Reagan last week questioned the wisdom of sending in the Sixth Fleet. "It's all right to give Gaddafi a bloody nose," he said. "But if you do it without a game plan, what does it get you? If there is now more terrorism aimed at Europeans and Americans, what have you won?"

In some ways Reagan has managed to break the post-Viet Nam syndrome that has paralyzed U.S. foreign policy. Yet he is hardly free of its shadow. With the significant exception of sending the Marines to Beirut on an ill-fated mission 3/ years ago, Reagan has become the master of staging small shows of force, tidy little wars carefully calibrated to win public approval without costing too many American lives.

American ambivalence about its superpower mantle is illustrated by the fact that congressional doves, many of them fearful of being labeled "soft" because of their opposition to contra aid, rushed last week to applaud Reagan's easy victory in the Gulf of Sidra. Yet they shy away from the tougher issue: how to apply steady and vigilant force as part of a policy for dealing with Nicaragua. Smacking Gaddafi may be cathartic and quick. But if the U.S. is truly going to face its responsibilities as a superpower, it will have to find a way to grapple with threats that are far more difficult and dirty, especially those closer to home.

With reporting by Laurence I. Barrett and William Stewart/Washington