Targeting Gaddafi

By GEORGE J. CHURCH

By Sunday morning they were back on station in the central Mediterranean north of Libya: the carriers America and Coral Sea, 14 escort warships and two other support vessels. Once again, as in the clashes around the Gulf of Sidra three weeks ago, the flattops were prepared to launch their 160 fighters and bombers against targets in the desert country of Dictator Muammar Gaddafi. But this time there was no pretext that the exercise was to assert the right of free passage in international waters.

Nor was there the expectation that any American attack would depend on whether Libya fired first. Libya had already fired--choosing once again the weapon of a terrorist bomb. After countless unheeded warnings and after futile attempts to counter terrorism with economic and political sanctions, the U.S. Sixth Fleet was poised to strike the type of blow the Reagan Administration had threatened--and anguished about--for so long.

The world watched something it had never seen before: the U.S. Navy moving into position so that the Commander in Chief could have the option of militarily punishing another nation for its sponsorship of international terrorism. As West European allies fretted about the potential consequences, and as Senate and House leaders gave qualified support while waiting to be consulted under the War Powers Resolution, the pilots of the F/A-18 Hornets and A-7E Corsairs stood ready for the command, should it come, to attack and destroy Libya's airfields, radar stations, Soviet-built missile sites and terrorist training camps. No matter what the outcome, regardless of when and if the President issues a final order, the week's drum rolling dramatized Ronald Reagan's world view in action. It also illustrated some of the frustrations of putting that view into action. Leaks about the details of the proposed operation prompted pressure from the National Security Council to postpone action. In addition, Admiral William Crowe, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, was concerned that more firepower was necessary, and the CIA needed to extract key Libyan agents from the country. But the more vexing problems were the political ones. Reagan and his advisers found themselves caught between their immediate temptation to strike Libya as they had warned they would and a growing awareness of the costs and risks of such a venture.

All week these uncertainties stoked tensions toward a fever point. It began with American officials pointing a menacing finger of suspicion at Libya as instigator of the bombing of a West Berlin disco that left an American serviceman and a Turkish woman dead. Then the Pentagon cryptically noted that the Sixth Fleet, which had scattered after the Gulf of Sidra battle, was steaming back toward Libya. Almost simultaneously, President Reagan at his Wednesday-night news conference called Gaddafi "this mad dog of the Middle East" and proclaimed that the U.S. would "respond" whenever the perpetrator of a specific terrorist act could be identified. Why had the U.S. once again targeted Gaddafi? Of all the evils and perils in the world, there is none that galls Reagan more than terrorism. Of all the anti-American thugs who hang out in the back alleys of the Third World, there is none Reagan despises more than Gaddafi. Last week those two hates came together, prompting Reagan to put the Libyan in the sights of the Sixth Fleet.

The erratic Libyan leader may not be the world's most effective + governmental inciter of terrorist murder. Iran or Syria or both seem to be the prime instigators of a long string of outrages, notably the bombings that killed some 250 Americans in Lebanon in 1983 and '84. But Gaddafi has been the most open supplier of money, weapons, training and refuge to terrorist groups around the world. He has broadcast the most inflammatory public appeals for attacks on Americans. He has issued the most insolent taunts and threats of blood and death. And he happens to be the weakest militarily and the most isolated politically of the world's suspected terrorist leaders, despised even by many of his fellow Arab leaders and regarded nervously even by his Soviet supporters.

According to the most recent electronic eavesdropping by the U.S., Gaddafi has been planning even more terror attacks. He has ordered Libyan agents and their Palestinian supporters to "cause maximum casualties to U.S. citizens and other Western people." One top-ranking intelligence official told TIME last week, "That message, which was sent from Tripoli and uses Gaddafi's authority, outlines operational plans for more than ten terror attacks." The official also claimed that there is "solid" evidence that Gaddafi is trying to "buy" the six American hostages still being held by Hizballah (Party of God) terrorists in Lebanon. Purportedly, Gaddafi is willing to pay $100 million for custody of these hostages, and $50 million for the seven Frenchmen also being held.

Gaddafi has long seemed the obvious target if the Reagan Administration is to come around to the view long advocated by Secretary of State George Shultz: that the U.S. sometime, somehow, must begin to retaliate against terrorist attacks. "We have got to blow the whistle on it," Shultz says. "Whether it is his involvement in terrorism, whether it is freedom of navigation, (Gaddafi) is on the wrong side of the issues. If you let people get away with murder, you'll get murder."

The Administration has tried economic sanctions and appeals to allies to isolate Libya diplomatically; neither had much effect. On seven occasions, by Reagan's count, U.S. warships have maneuvered in or near the Gulf of Sidra, which Libya, in defiance of international law, claims as territorial waters. Twice Gaddafi has accepted the implicit dare to start a fight, and twice Libya has suffered: in 1981 U.S. forces shot down two Libyan jets, and three weeks ago they sank at least two Libyan patrol boats and bombed and briefly put out of action the radar at a Soviet-built missile base onshore. A Libyan armed forces official said last week that 56 Libyans had died in that fighting; there were no known U.S. casualties. The U.S. has discussed with Libya's feuding neighbor Egypt plans for coordinated American bombing strikes and an Egyptian ground invasion of Libya if Gaddafi should offer sufficient provocation. Cai ro said no, in the well-founded belief that Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak would practically guarantee his assassination by a Libyan hit squad if he went along with such a plan.

But one thing has always held the U.S. back from striking hard on its own in retaliation against Gaddafi's terrorism. The Administration felt that it could justify such an attack to the American people--and allies around the world--only if it had hard evidence to prove Libya responsible for a specific terrorist act. And such evidence was always lacking--until the early hours of Saturday morning, April 5. Then a bomb went off in La Belle disco in West Berlin, which was packed with off-duty American soldiers spending some of the pay they had collected earlier that night. U.S. Army Sergeant Kenneth Ford, 21, and a 28-year-old Turkish woman were killed; 230 people, 79 of them Americans, were injured.

Shortly after the blast, and with increasing vehemence as the week continued, U.S. officials claimed that this time they had Gaddafi dead to rights. In a Wednesday speech in Atlanta, for example, General Bernard Rogers, supreme NATO commander in Europe, said the U.S. had "indisputable evidence" that the bombing was the work of a Libyan terrorist network. Though no one would disclose it publicly, the evidence is known to consist largely of intercepted messages from the Libyan capital, Tripoli, to the "people's bureau" (as Libya calls its diplomatic missions) in East Berlin, which is believed to have dispatched a terrorist to bomb the disco. One message, sent a few hours after the blast, guardedly congratulated the East Berlin bureau for a job well done (see box).

At first some West German officials, like other U.S. allies, believed the evidence to be indicative rather than conclusive. By week's end Chancellor Helmut Kohl declared at a press conference that "the attack also had a Libyan background." But he took care to add, "Please note that I said 'also,' and not 'only.' " German intelligence officials explained that they had been shown what seemed to be only partial transcripts of the Libyan messages intercepted by the U.S. Those summaries, they said, certainly pointed to some Libyan involvement but did not quite prove that Gaddafi had planned and ordered the attack.

Other Europeans, while not putting anything past Gaddafi, were waiting to see the U.S. evidence, with one standout exception. In remarks known to reflect the views of his government, Sir Oliver Wright, British Ambassador to the U.S., told a South Carolina audience that there is indeed "uncontrovertible evidence that the Libyans have been the instigators of the most recent terrorist incidents."

In Washington there was never any real doubt. The question, rather, was whether the Administration was ready to take the risks of ordering a hard, unilateral strike. Those risks are both obvious and grave. Some U.S. pilots and other service members might be killed carrying out bombing runs of the scale being contemplated. Even severe military damage might not cow Gaddafi into calling off or slowing down terrorist attacks. On the contrary, he might intensify them, as he seems to have done after the Gulf of Sidra battle. Might Gaddafi carry out terrorist attacks inside the U.S., as he has often threatened to do? "We certainly do not overlook that possibility," said a grim-faced Ronald Reagan during his news conference.

Even a clash with Gaddafi's Soviet allies, though it seems highly unlikely, cannot be ruled out. Soviet technicians prudently managed to be elsewhere when American missiles hit antiaircraft radars three weeks ago, but there is a possibility that some might be killed in a new strike. The Soviets, however, appeared to be as perplexed as everyone else about what might happen and what, if anything, they ought to do. "There have been no guarantees concerning action or nonaction on the part of the Soviet Union," said Valery Sukhin, a Foreign Ministry spokesman, at week's end. Georgi Arbatov, a top Kremlin adviser on American affairs, growled on U.S. television that Moscow had no deal to defend Gaddafi against the U.S. and added that the Libyan leader does not always tell the truth.

Asked point-blank at his Wednesday press conference to confirm or deny reports that he had already decided on a military response, Reagan grew visibly uncomfortable and replied, "This is a question that, as I say, is like talking about battle plans or something. It's not a question that I feel I could answer." In fact, the President that morning had approved a tentative decision to launch an attack. The decision was made by the National Security Council, meeting in the Oval Office (minus Vice President George Bush and Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger, who were both traveling).

The NSC studied the evidence concerning the disco bombing and the intercepted messages indicating that Gaddafi was ordering a new wave of terrorist attacks. Admiral Crowe voiced his concerns about firepower, and CIA Director William Casey about getting agents out of Libya. But they and everyone else present agreed with Shultz, who said, "We have taken enough punishment and beating. We have to act." For the sake of tactical surprise, it was agreed that the assault should be launched by carrier planes as soon as the flattops could get into position. Reagan directed that all precautions be taken to minimize casualties to Libyan civilians. Nonetheless, he told the council that it had his authority to proceed--"but let me know the plan you decide upon before you launch the attack."

After the President's news conference, a news blackout came down. White House Spokesman Larry Speakes opened a press briefing the next morning by announcing that he would answer no questions about Gaddafi or Libya. With or without any real information, however, enough people were speculating about the details of the operation to cause the Administration to feel that it was becoming impossible to maintain tactical surprise. It also became extremely difficult to keep open the option of making no major response to the most recent terror attack. "There's no question we created a bit of a Frankenstein's monster," said an NSC official on Friday. "In a way, I guess, we meant to do that. But the monster was supposed to spook Gaddafi."

Doubts and worries grew, and by Friday, says a top intelligence official, "we knew that we were doomed. Too many people were talking freely about the operation and too many operational details were already out. We had to postpone." About noon on Friday NSC hastily convened again in the Oval Office and got the President's agreement for a postponement of indefinite duration. Reagan, says one participant, "was furious. He realized that the operation had to be put off but wanted to make sure that in the future no more leaks will get around."

A full-fledged reconsideration of options--whether to reschedule an attack, and if so what kind and when--looked unlikely until Sunday at the earliest. By then, Bush and Weinberger would be available. Bush was on a ten-day trip to Saudi Arabia and other Persian Gulf nations, and arrived back Saturday night. Weinberger had been touring the Philippines and Pacific region; he arrived in Hawaii on Friday night and left for Washington Saturday.

As Bush and Weinberger were flying home, General Vernon Walters, the veteran troubleshooter and current U.S. Ambassador to the U.N., was beginning a swing through at least four West European capitals. "Basically, we want to tell allies where we are and what could happen," said one American official. Walters' first stop was on Saturday in London, where he met with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. Italian Prime Minister Bettino Craxi announced that he would receive a presidential envoy on Monday.

Western Europe's predominant response to the threat of an American strike against Libya has been skittishness, again with the exception of Britain. While hardly eager to see a military clash, London made clear that it would approve an American blow that could be represented as a form of self-defense, and officials said retaliation for the disco bombing would qualify. Italy would be closest to any new U.S.-Libyan fighting; during the Gulf of Sidra battle it sent interceptor planes aloft, just to be ready in case some of Gaddafi's aging Soviet-built Tupolev bombers should try to attack NATO bases in Sicily. The Italians seemed to be bracing for a rerun of that experience; Prime Minister Craxi declared publicly last week that the problems of the Mediterranean "certainly cannot be settled by a military blitz," but Americans say the Italians have made no attempt in private to talk the U.S. out of a retaliatory strike.

Kohl, on the other hand, declared that "my advice would always be to avoid such acts of military reprisal until you know what you are starting and how you are going to get out of it at the end." Other Germans elaborated by voicing a worry that is widespread in Europe: U.S. retaliation will prompt more terrorist attacks that will occur primarily in Europe; even if the principal targets are American, Europeans will get killed too. Says one West German government official: "The more the Americans hit Libya, the more the Libyans will hit back at U.S. targets in West Germany. We are more than a little bit afraid that we are going to be directly involved in the middle of their war."

France and West Germany each booted out two Libyan diplomats, though not, they insisted, in response to U.S. pressure. Spain, angered by a Gaddafi threat to mount terrorist attacks in all countries that harbor U.S. bases, recalled its Ambassador from Tripoli "for consultations."

There were signs that the prospect of a U.S. military attack, combined with Gaddafi's vengeful bluster, was galvanizing European allies into talking about taking further steps. At a press conference in Tripoli, Gaddafi vowed to answer any U.S. strike by fomenting terrorist attacks in all the cities of southern Europe. An alarmed Italian Prime Minister Craxi phoned his Spanish counterpart, Felipe Gonzalez, to suggest that a meeting of foreign ministers of the twelve European Community nations be held right away. The meeting was scheduled first for Wednesday, then for Monday. Its apparent purpose: to draft some European-wide program of economic and political sanctions that might hold enough promise of hurting Gaddafi to persuade the U.S. to call off a military blow.

Contingency planning by the Pentagon and CIA has by now given Reagan and his commanders a wide range of options to choose from, and targets to select, if they again decide to strike. Israeli officials late last week claimed that State Department Under Secretary Michael Armacost had told them the U.S. has identified more than 30 potential Libyan targets, ranging from airfields to oil depots; Washington reports add such intriguing items as Gaddafi's personal living quarters. Under one scenario, attack planes launched from the Sixth Fleet carriers could be joined by F-111s from Britain (the British reportedly have given their consent) and even by B-52 bombers flying from bases in the U.S.

Some plans have been drawn in impressive detail. One involves three waves of carrier-based planes that would strike in quick succession under cover of predawn darkness. First, fighter planes would launch missiles that home in on radar to knock out once again the radars at the SA-5 missile sites at Surt and Benghazi. Then, attack planes would wing in low and fast to knock out the missiles and their launchers. Once they had been destroyed, the third wave would hit adjacent airfields, destroying the runways so that Gaddafi's 550 combat aircraft could not scramble to counterattack the fleet. Supposedly, all that would take little more than an hour, at the end of which Libya would be crippled militarily at the price of a handful of U.S. casualties.

Another likely group of targets consists of communications facilities: radio-TV stations, ground-to-satellite stations and dishes, main telephone terminals. Knocking them out would, in theory, virtually cut Libya off from the outside world, at least for a time. Other potential targets offer both rewards and drawbacks. Hitting two training camps for terrorists that are known to operate near Tripoli and Benghazi would most closely fit the punishment for terrorism to the crime of inciting and supporting it. But the camps are thought to be empty right now, and when occupied they are also heavily used to train young recruits for the Libyan army, who bear no responsibility for Gaddafi's terrorism. Bombing oil jetties and other installations could cripple Libya's economy, but at the possible price of killing German, Italian and other foreign technicians still working in the Libyan petroleum industry--and possibly even some Americans. There were 1,500 in Libya in January, and some may have disobeyed Reagan's order to get out of the country. The Libyan intelligence-service headquarters, from which Gaddafi and aides launch terrorist operations, is in downtown Tripoli and hard to hit without causing heavy casualties among Libyan civilians.

But what would an attack on any or all of these targets actually do to combat terrorism? That is the essential question. If the Reagan Administration does hit Libya, the most it can count on is silent and grudging acquiescence from most of its allies and more vocal but still guarded approval from Congress--and that assumes the fighting is over quickly with no heavy loss of American lives. Heartier approval would follow only if the attack seemed likely to bring about a sizable decline in terrorist outrages.

If the Sixth Fleet eventually steams away without attacking, the Administration might win both applause for restraint and derision for making empty threats. But it would only be putting off until the next time the question of whether and how to retaliate. Given the virus of terrorism, there assuredly would be a next time. Indeed, having talked so much about retaliation and now gone so far toward it, Washington has practically guaranteed a sharpening debate about reprisal every time there is a new murderous attack for which intelligence officials believe they can pinpoint the perpetrator.

In part, the urge to hit back is driven by the new assertiveness of Reagan's foreign policy. The Administration takes pride in having put muscle into American policy; a series of successes from Grenada to the Philippines has shown that the U.S. can pull off military and diplomatic coups without risking nuclear holocaust. The spread of terrorism is the great, galling exception to this assertiveness; the U.S. too often has seemed impotent in preventing or avenging the deaths of its citizens. The Administration is eager to prove that the military power it has built at enormous expense has uses in the real world beyond standing off the Soviets.

But the case for retaliation goes far beyond a desire to flex muscle in a good cause. Terrorism has become a virtual war that pits mindless barbarism against all civilized society. Even more frightening than the number of terror attacks is a shift in their pattern away from military and political targets toward random violence against ordinary people--tourists, shoppers, service members dancing in a disco. This phenomenon has many complex causes. But Shultz and his supporters are convinced that a powerful factor is a belief among terrorists that they can act with impunity: the U.S. will huff and puff but never really do anything. That idea will not change, in this view, until the U.S. demonstrates that terrorists and the governments that sponsor them are not safe, that attacks on Americans are certain to carry a heavy price.

No one pretends, however, that military reprisal alone will stop terrorism. There is no Terrorist Central that can be bombed out of operation. Attacking Libya would do little to curb the depredations of terrorists sponsored by Syria or Iran or South Yemen, not to mention the innumerable and shifting groups that operate beyond the control of any government.

Would it quiet Gaddafi? Europeans fear it would do just the opposite. They are concerned that an American attack would force even conservative Arab leaders who hate and fear the Libyan dictator to take his side publicly. They are more worried about inflaming the anti-American passions of Middle Eastern youths already inclined toward extremism. Says one top Italian official: "The terrorists themselves are usually not Libyans. They are Beirutis, Lebanese of all kinds, Syrians, Iranians, Palestinians. Striking at Gaddafi militarily may just serve to recruit more such people."

What many Europeans fear most is a deadly, escalating cycle of vengeance: terrorism begetting U.S. strikes, which prompt more terrorism in reply, which touches off more reprisals. In their view, and in the view of many American experts, an antiterrorism policy must be accompanied by concerted diplomatic efforts to bring about some resolution of Arab-Israeli conflicts, the Palestinian question and other root causes of tension in the Middle East. So far the Reagan Administration has done little, if anything, to reinvigorate the stalled peace process.

Nor can the cycle of terrorism be broken without more effective police work: better intelligence on extremist groups, intense surveillance of their movements, infiltration of terrorist cells. Such methods take a frustratingly long time to take effect, and meanwhile, murderous attacks continue. But the methods eventually do work; witness Italy's successes against the Red Brigades and West Germany's against the once dreaded Baader-Meinhof gang. Indeed, the President declared at his news conference last week that "in the last year . . . through our intelligence gathering in cooperation with our allies, we have aborted 126 planned terrorist attacks that never took place."

Nevertheless, last week's activities made it clear that the Reagan Administration, led by Shultz and others, firmly believes military reprisals must play a greater role in the undeclared war against terrorism. That is why Muammar Gaddafi once again finds himself in the cross hairs of America's Sixth Fleet. Uncle Sam spoke loudly, vowing vengeance, then raised his big stick. Given the dangers posed by terrorism, such a response was understandable, even justified. Then, at least for a moment, came an eerie pantomime of waiting and hesitation. Given the risks involved, the fact that the sword of vengeance cannot always be swift was also understandable, also justified.

With reporting by Michael Duffy, David Halevy and Strobe Talbott/Washington