Others In

By Richard Stengel

The Washington scandal does not yet have a memorable name, but it does have a face. It is a boyishly all-American face, the clear-eyed, clean-cut face that might be that of the second leading man in a 1940s war movie -- the intensely earnest but good-natured copilot who refuses to bail out under enemy fire. A face that appears, at first glance, to be a map of old-fashioned American virtues.

In many ways, Marine Lieut. Colonel Oliver North seems to be a throwback to that era of fireside chats and Rita Hayworth pinups, a time when no one seemed to question what America stood for. But today he is playing a darker role, one that is at the heart of a furor that could further undermine the confidence Americans have in their Government.

No one is yet certain whether North is a cause or an effect, a Lone Ranger who rode out of control or a good soldier who followed orders from above. He is an unknown who emerged from the shadows into the spotlight of what quickly became the biggest Washington scandal in more than a decade and threatens to preoccupy Americans in the year to come.

The revelations of secret arms deals with Iran and the consequent diversion of profits from those sales to aid the contra rebels in Nicaragua are more than just the story of some overzealous actions by a gung-ho cowboy. They suggest an Administration's disdain for the often cumbersome mechanics of democracy and a simple, breathtaking willingness to preach one thing in public and do another in private.

The crisis began in early November, when a Lebanese magazine disclosed that the U.S. had sent military spare parts to Iran after a secret visit to Tehran by Robert McFarlane, the former National Security Adviser. Reports then started to proliferate that President Reagan, who repeatedly declared that he would never negotiate with terrorists and who condemned Iran as a member of a new, international "Murder Inc.," had authorized clandestine shipments of weapons to Tehran in an effort to gain the release of American hostages in Lebanon. Two days before Thanksgiving, the President went on national television to announce that Vice Admiral John Poindexter, the NSC chief, had resigned and that Oliver North, his deputy, had been relieved of his duties. Attorney General Edwin Meese then revealed that money from the sales of weapons to Iran had been diverted to the Nicaraguan rebels. But he insisted that North -- and only North -- knew the entire story behind the secret pipeline of money to the contras.

Oliver North? The deputy NSC director for political-military affairs? Washington insiders maintained that no lieutenant colonel could ever run such a complicated, clandestine operation alone. Those who knew North from the U.S. Naval Academy and Viet Nam were not so sure. Wherever he was, they said, he seemed to make things happen. Born in Texas, North was raised in upstate New York and was voted most courteous in his graduating high school class. He decided that the Marine Corps was his calling and eventually won a place at Annapolis. While at the academy, he became the brigade welterweight boxing champion but hungered for a sterner kind of battle. He got his wish. Sent to Viet Nam in 1968, he led a platoon and was decorated for heroic actions under fire.

In the years following his return from Southeast Asia, North continued to crave action. After joining the NSC in 1981, he became known for his overt patriotism and his covert activities. North seemed to pop up at every trouble spot around the world: cheerleading for the contras in Honduras and stalking terrorists in Lebanon. He helped plan the invasion of Grenada, the secret mining of Nicaraguan harbors and the hijacking of the plane carrying the Achille Lauro terrorists. Later, North became the point man for the private network financing the Nicaraguan rebels.

By most accounts, North was a fiercely loyal man, and the person he was most loyal to was his Commander in Chief. Like the President, North developed an obsessive concern about the need to help the contras. But zeal may have taken him too far. If it is proved that North was behind the siphoning of money to the contras, he may have violated a congressional ban on such activities, a law that has since expired.

As the Iran-contra arms scandal unfolded on the small screen, Oliver North, who took to quoting the Bible and asking for divine assistance, became a household face and name in an unfinished political mini-series. There is more to come, and it remains to be seen whether North will someday be regarded as a bit player in an ephemeral scandal of a widely popular Administration or the central protagonist in a torturous national drama.