TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/052289/05228900.032

Text File | 1992-09-23 | 13.4 KB | 257 lines

                                                                                WORLD, Page 40

COVER STORIES

Lead-Pipe Politics


As Noriega bloodies his opposition, the U.S. sends in more
troops

By William R. Doerner


    The scene, no matter how often it is played back in the
mind, still shocks and horrifies. At the end of a rally of
opposition forces protesting the blatant exercise of electoral
larceny in Panama, a band of T-shirted men suddenly appeared
carrying wooden clubs and metal pipes. With grotesque
inappropriateness, they styled themselves the Dignity Battalion.
As troops of the Panama Defense Force nonchalantly looked on,
the thugs closed in on the victorious trio who three days
earlier had easily defeated the handpicked candidates of
Panamanian General Manuel Antonio Noriega for the posts of
President and First and Second Vice Presidents. Suddenly the
thugs grabbed the bodyguard of Guillermo Ford, the candidate for
Second Vice President, shoved him against a car, thrust a gun
into his mouth and fired.

    As Ford, his white guayabera drenched with his bodyguard's
blood and with television cameras whirring, tried to stumble
away, two of the attackers lifted their clubs and methodically
struck him again and again. Only the intercession of a PDF
officer, who hustled Ford into a car and sped away, saved the
white-haired candidate from what might have been a fatal
mauling.

    It was political revenge at its most brutal, the latest and
most vicious reminder yet of Noriega's arrogant lawlessness.
For more than a year, Noriega has ignored two U.S. indictments
accusing him of complicity in the international drug trade. He
has jailed or deported opponents, destroyed the sprigs of a free
press, and watched his country slide into economic ruin rather
than give up the whips of power. Nonetheless, Noriega outdid
himself last week by stealing an election so brazenly that, in
the words of Venezuelan President Carlos Andres Perez, it
amounted to "a coup d'etat."

    Concerned that Noriega's proclivity for street violence
might put Americans in Panama at risk, President George Bush
ordered some 2,000 troops to join the 10,300 American soldiers
already stationed on Panamanian soil. He advised all U.S.
Government employees and dependents living off U.S. bases to
move temporarily to safer quarters, and recalled Ambassador
Arthur Davis, a step just short of breaking off diplomatic
relations.

    Washington's response to Noriega's provocations was
measured and moderate, particularly in view of its 18-month-old
campaign to oust him. But Noriega's departure continues to be
Washington's main goal, and National Security Adviser Brent
Scowcroft disclosed last week that the U.S. has resumed efforts
to find a country willing to offer Noriega refuge. In unusually
blunt language, Bush told reporters aboard Air Force One on
Saturday that "the will of the people should not be thwarted by
this man and a handful of Doberman thugs. They ought to do
everything they can to get Mr. Noriega out of there." Asked if
he wished to temper his comments, the President replied, "No,
I would add no words of caution."

    Noriega, who remained out of sight for most of the week,
did not emerge unscathed from the sorry election exercise.
Panamanian voters dealt him a stinging rebuke in rejecting, by
more than 2 to 1, the presidential candidacy of Carlos Duque,
the general's longtime friend and business manager. So clear was
the electorate's embrace of the opposition, a coalition known
as the Democratic Alliance of Civil Opposition and led by lawyer
Guillermo Endara, that authorities felt obliged to declare the
election null and void. That decision was widely interpreted as
an admission by Noriega that given such a lopsided vote, not
even he could foist Duque on his country. Vowed Ricardo Arias
Calderon, the coalition's candidate for First Vice President:
"We will continue to fight by all peaceful means."

    Even though his election plans were disrupted, Noriega
remained in control of Panama. But his rule is no longer as
absolute as it was a week ago. The elections bestowed a certain
legitimacy on the opposition and forced Noriega to consult more
frequently than usual with the military, the key to his power.
Noriega may also be looking over his shoulder more often at
rank-and-file members of the PDF , as the general's election
analysts concede that significant numbers of uniformed voters
chose Endara over Duque. Even Panama's highly influential Roman
Catholic Church, which had remained silent throughout the
crisis, felt compelled to issue a statement deploring Noriega's
effort to "frustrate popular will."

    Meanwhile, part of a battalion of U.S. troops from Fort
Ord, Calif., began arriving at Howard Air Force Base, near
Panama City. They will be joined by other light-infantry units
from Fort Polk, La., and Marine assault troops from Camp
Lejeune, N.C. Also transported into Panama will be some 200
support vehicles, including armored personnel carriers and
mortar carriers. At the same time, hundreds of military
dependents in Panama evacuated their homes and moved to the
safety of the ten U.S. military bases that bestride the
50-mile-long Panama Canal.

    Endara, a political disciple of the late Panamanian
President Arnulfo Arias, ran a spirited campaign in the three
months before the May 7 voting. Washington funneled some $10
million in campaign funds to the opposition, evidently hoping
that if Endara and his running mates won, Noriega would be
forced to reach an accommodation with them. As Panamanians
turned out in large numbers to cast their ballots, Endara had
reason to be confident: polls showed he was favored over Duque
by at least 2 to 1 and perhaps by as much as 3 to 1. But Noriega
apparently deluded himself into believing that Duque, a
self-styled populist, could win with only minimal cheating.

    Throughout election day, teams of international poll
watchers, including several members of Congress, witnessed
balloting irregularities, notably the disappearance from voting
registers of the names of longtime residents in some districts.
But the glitches appeared to be minor. After the polls closed
at 6 p.m., however, bands of armed men, some in uniform and some
in civilian dress, raided ballot centers and confiscated the
actas, tabulation sheets showing the vote totals and signed by
representatives of all the political parties. Luis Del Rio, an
overseer at a polling station in the suburb of San Miguelito,
surrendered his tabulation documents to a gang of men who burst
in at 4:30 a.m. and pointed a machine gun at his groin. In many
cases the intruders left behind new actas with fake signatures.
When the Electoral Tribunal got around to announcing the
preliminary count three days after the election, it claimed that
the Duque ticket was leading with almost two-thirds of the vote.

    One of the first observers to cry foul was former U.S.
President Jimmy Carter, a hero to many Panamanians for his role
in signing the 1977 treaty pledging to place the canal under
local sovereignty in the year 2000. Received cordially by
Noriega the day before the election, Carter got a very different
reception after he concluded that the election had been stolen.
When Carter tried to telephone Noriega, he was told the general
was too busy to talk. When Carter tried to hold a press
conference at the Panama City convention center, where the votes
were being tallied, he was barred from the premises. Said
Carter: "The government has taken the election by fraud."

    On Monday some 5,000 Panamanians converged on the
auditorium to protest Noriega's wholesale vote switching, but
police dispersed them by firing live ammunition above the crowd.
A Panamanian cameraman nonetheless was wounded.

    The bloodiest violence occurred three days later at the end
of a parade of some 3,000 led through Panama City by Endara and
his two running mates. As the rally broke up at Santa Ana Plaza,
the trio alighted from a car and told a PDF escort that they
wanted to turn off the main street and disband. The officer in
charge asked them to wait briefly. Suddenly the ranks of the
uniformed officers parted to admit members of the Dignity
Battalion, a paramilitary group founded by Noriega.

    As the goons pushed their way toward Endara, a party
official shouted, "Watch out!" The warning was too late. One
attacker clubbed Endara over the head with a spike-tipped metal
rod. Arias Calderon was also beaten on the head. Ford was
attacked with a metal pipe and a wooden plank. Some of the thugs
brandished handguns, in one case with deadly results. An
attacker felled one of Ford's bodyguards, Manuel Alexis Guerra,
with an iron bar, then shot and killed him. Eventually, aides
lifted Endara past the attackers and soldiers and took him by
taxi to the hospital. Ford also required medical care, and Arias
Calderon escaped to a safe house.

    Other Latin American governments condemned Panama's
hijacked election, though most, reflecting the region's distaste
for the bad old days of U.S. gunboat diplomacy, pointedly
declared that the country's problems did not warrant outside
intervention. Foreign ministers of the Group of Eight, an
economic and social partnership in Latin America that Panama was
suspended from in 1988, declared their "profound concern" for
Panama and called for the "free and unrestricted enforcement of
the popular will." In Washington the Organization of American
States scheduled a meeting this week to discuss the "serious
crisis." U.S. congressional reaction to Noriega's latest
brutality ranged from resigned shrugs to reckless calls on Bush
to abrogate the Panama Canal treaty unilaterally. As Sol
Linowitz, who helped negotiate the 1978 pact for the Carter
Administration, points out, the treaty is the only legal basis
for a U.S. military presence in Panama. If Washington breaks
the treaty, the U.S. will automatically give up the right to
have troops stationed at the canal.

    Bush was determined to approach Panama's crisis with
prudence, one of his favorite watchwords. On the one hand, said
National Security Adviser Scowcroft, "we're trying to
demonstrate that this is not business as usual," meaning that
some U.S. response was required. On the other hand, Bush did not
want to risk strengthening Noriega by appearing to meddle
without sufficient cause in Panamanian affairs. What primarily
concerned Bush was the safety of the 52,000 Americans living in
Panama, who include, besides military members and their
families, some 28,000 civilians, many of them retired canal
employees who live in what used to be known as the Canal Zone
and are still called "zonies."

    Besides sending in more troops and recalling Ambassador
Davis, Bush called on governments in the region to keep pressure
on Noriega and vowed to maintain U.S. economic sanctions. These
moves, as press secretary Marlin Fitzwater candidly admitted,
were "not aimed at overthrowing Noriega." That is, if anything,
an understatement, since similar measures taken a year ago by
the Reagan Administration only strengthened the embattled
dictator's determination to hang on. Yet getting rid of Noriega
remains the long-term goal that Bush inherited from his
predecessor. And Bush did flash an unmistakable sign of
encouragement to reformist elements within the 15,000-member PDF
-- a subgroup that has kept a low profile under the general but
is certain to figure in a post-Noriega Panama. Said Bush: "A
professional Panamanian Defense Force can have an important role
to play in Panama's democratic future."

    The Administration took the unusual step of recognizing
Endara as Panama's President-elect. In effect, the U.S. rejected
not only the fraudulent official returns but also the
subsequent nullification of the vote. What impact, if any, that
action will have is far from clear. In March 1988 the U.S.
recognized Eric Arturo Delvalle as Panama's Chief Executive,
even though he went into exile after being ousted for attempting
to fire Noriega. Thus the disagreement between Noriega and
Washington on who is leading the country has dragged on for 14
months.

    Despite Noriega's violent tactics, the opposition was
willing to meet with the Panamanian leader. There were hints
that Noriega might also be amenable to talks. One of the
general's supporters, former Commerce Minister Mario Rognoni,
suggested that possible intermediaries for such an undertaking
might be Costa Rican President Oscar Arias Sanchez, a Mexican
official or a papal envoy. But precisely what would be
negotiated at such a session remained unclear. Noriega may plan
eventually to schedule another presidential election and find
another loyalist to serve as his stand-in. Endara and his
allies, for their part, are adamant that any pact with Noriega
must include his departure.

    Other Noriega confidants speculated that the general might
be willing to step down -- provided Washington drops its drug
indictments against him. That is a condition that Reagan
accepted a year ago but that Bush has rejected. Noriega may
attempt to reopen negotiations with the U.S. on that matter, if
only to buy time. Unless a solution can be found quickly, Bush,
like Reagan, could find himself sinking ever deeper into a
frustrating brawl with a dictator whom few care for but no one
knows how to get rid of.


-- Ricardo Chavira/Washington, Michael Duffy with Bush, and
John Moody/Panama City