El Salvador The Battle for San Salvador

By Jill Smolowe

With the world's attention focused on Eastern Europe, no one expected the resurgence of an ugly little war in a troubled little country on the American continent. Certainly not the El Salvadoran armed forces, or the U.S. Government, which funds the Salvadoran military to the tune of $85 million a year. Or the 5 million war-weary citizens of El Salvador. All had been encouraged by two recent rounds of peace talks to hope that a settlement in El Salvador's ten-year civil war might be in the offing. Even when the talks broke off three weeks ago amid a surge in civilian killings and rumors of a guerrilla offensive, no one imagined that the war would be brought from the countryside right into the capital. But there are two roads to peace: one paved with goodwill, the other littered with dead bodies. Last week the rebels of the Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front (F.M.L.N.) took the road less traveled in recent years, and the savage fighting that resulted will leave Salvadorans reeling for months to come.

The war that returned to El Salvador was vengeful and bloody. In the worst slaughter of the decade, 3,500 leftist rebels battled government troops all week in the streets of San Salvador and in many of the country's 14 regions. The death toll: at least 208 troops, 676 guerrillas and hundreds -- no one knows precisely -- of civilians. Thousands more were wounded.

Most cold-blooded was the brutal slaying of six Jesuit priests, which seemed to symbolize all that is wrong in El Salvador. While no one has claimed responsibility, immediate suspicion centered on the country's resurgent right- wing death squads. In the predominantly Roman Catholic country, angry accusations and outrage over the barbaric murders were certain to linger long after the battle had died. And for the U.S., they raised once again the moral dilemma of aiding a country where such acts have repeatedly gone unpunished.

With his country's security threatened, President Alfredo Cristiani declared a state of siege on the second day of fighting, suspending constitutional liberties and imposing strict curfews. It was not only the sudden flare-up of the long-stalemated situation that caught Salvadorans by surprise, but it was also the scope and intensity of the conflagration. Until now, the F.M.L.N. has relied primarily on the traditional hit-and-run tactics of guerrilla warfare, never winning, but never losing decisively. By taking their battle to the capital, the rebels were forced to stand their ground in a more conventional way. But the guerrillas lack the equipment to rival the Salvadoran army's U.S.-supplied planes and helicopter gunships, and as a result sustained heavy casualties.

While both sides inflicted civilian casualties, the air attacks by the army appeared to take the highest toll. On the periphery of the capital, the poor neighborhoods believed to be rebel strongholds were repeatedly strafed by rockets and machine-gun fire from above. Some citizens alleged that bombs were indiscriminately dropped in residential areas. Cristiani countered that the government had authorized the use of bombs only where the army had isolated F.M.L.N. units and was reasonably sure civilians would not be injured. In many areas, citizens were forced to abandon their homes, creating a stream of tens of thousands of refugees.

The motives behind the F.M.L.N. offensive were far from clear. The extent of the assault prompted speculation that the guerrillas were hoping a final sink- or-swim offensive would rally popular support and bring down the six-month- old Cristiani government. If that was the intent, the rebels missed their mark by a wide margin. While their ability to infiltrate tons of arms and ammunition and 3,500 fighters into the capital demonstrated significant civilian support, the guerrillas failed to spark a popular uprising. In fact, the assault may have earned the rebels more new detractors than supporters. Traditional political allies, such as the National Revolutionary Movement, condemned the F.M.L.N. and called on it to return to the negotiating table.

The rebels broke off peace talks on Nov. 2, following a bomb attack on the headquarters of the left-leaning National Federation of Salvadoran Workers that killed ten people. The bombing was widely attributed to the right-wing death squads, which, after slumbering for several years, are once again marauding throughout El Salvador. The rebels hold Cristiani and his rightist Nationalist Republican Alliance (ARENA) government responsible for both the resurgence of the death squads and the arrest, injury or killing of more than 400 suspected guerrilla sympathizers in recent months. It is likely that last week's offensive was at least in part a response to the wave of death-squad attacks.

But the boldness of the assault suggests that the rebels were intent on disproving the government's claims that the F.M.L.N. is a spent military force. It served warning that the government could look forward to more bloodshed and violence if the guerrillas' demands are not treated seriously.

The timing of the offensive may also reflect the guerrillas' unease with developments in Eastern Europe. Just two months ago, F.M.L.N. Commander Joaquin Villalobos admitted that his forces could no longer "aspire to an armed revolution that the Soviet Union will subsidize." Since then the pace of change in Eastern Europe has accelerated so quickly that the F.M.L.N. may be worried that it will be forgotten by its Communist patrons. Toward that end, the F.M.L.N. may have been reminding both the Cristiani and Bush administrations that with or without foreign Communist support, the guerrillas must be part of any eventual settlement.

The Bush Administration heeded the message -- then bent it to its own purposes, using the occasion to renew old charges against Moscow. Secretary of State James Baker told the Organization of American States that the Soviet Union "bears special responsibility because its arms and its money, moving through Cuba and Nicaragua, continue to support violence, destruction and war." While there was no evidence of direct Soviet complicity, there were indications that Nicaragua is continuing to arm the F.M.L.N.

Mostly, however, U.S. officials sought to downplay the crisis that had caught them so unprepared. But beneath the bravado, there were signs of unease. Officials who publicly condoned the Salvadoran military's air attacks privately conceded that there was no way to prevent them from causing civilian casualties. "There is a serious human rights situation developing," admitted one official.

For Cristiani, the situation is delicate. During his presidential campaign, he courted votes by proclaiming his impatience with the pace of fighting permitted by his predecessor, Jose Napoleon Duarte. "The U.S. wants a low- intensity conflict, meaning do so much not to win, but not to lose," he said in March 1988. "That's not fair to the military." He went on to say that if the F.M.L.N. failed to accept a consensus proposal for peace, "that would justify harsher military action." Having been treated to a fairly easy first six months in office, Cristiani was finally put to the test last week. What he demonstrated was that unlike Duarte, he knows how to use the power of the armed forces to his advantage.

The problem, of course, is that as both sides strive to prove that they can stand up to their enemy, it is the people of El Salvador who reap the consequences. "If this spiral of violence continues," warned San Salvador's Archbishop Arturo Rivera Damas, "death and destruction will sweep away many, especially those who are of most use to our people."

The Archbishop was speaking of the murder of the six Jesuits, who taught at the University of Central America, one of the country's most respected ! institutions and a center for leftist theological activism. In the worst attack on Salvadoran Catholic activists since the assassination of Archbishop Oscar Arnulfo Romero in 1980, they were mowed down by M-16 rifle fire at their campus residence Thursday morning; a cook at the university and her 15-year- old daughter were also cut down. The government promptly ordered an investigation, hinting that the rebels were responsible. But the brutal massacre was widely believed, as was Romero's slaying, to be the handiwork of right-wing death squads, and it will be difficult to convince outraged citizens that the military played no role.

In Washington officials voiced concern that Cristiani was losing control to extremists within his party and the military. There was speculation that the Treasury Police, who had raided the priests' residence just days earlier, may have had a hand in the murders. "This was incredibly stupid," said a U.S. official. "As long as we've been telling army officials that they can't allow this kind of thing to happen, they still haven't learned."

Two roads to peace remain open. The rebels seem prepared to take either one. "There is still time to negotiate and prevent more bloodshed," says F.M.L.N. representative Salvador Cortez. "But if the government remains stubborn in its refusal to negotiate in good faith, then we are prepared to continue until the end." Peace talks are scheduled to resume in Caracas on Nov. 21. Government representatives vow to be there; the rebels have said they will not attend. The U.S. is urging them to return to the negotiating table. The governments of Central America should lend their voices to that call. Otherwise, nothing will change but the death toll.

With reporting by Ricardo Chavira/Washington and John Moody/San Salvador