The Politics of Rescue

Peru and Rumania share the fate of having been stricken by the worst natural disasters in their histories. Both also are mavericks within the prevailing political systems in their parts of the world. Thus, last week, international aid efforts mixed politics with the human drama of rescue and recovery.

Peru: The Aftermath

In the wake of the worst recorded disaster in Peru's history, at least 41 nations have sent supplies or rescue teams to help the stricken country dig out from the devastation wrought by the giant earthquake, which caused massive floods and landslides that left 100,000 people injured and 800,000 homeless. One Peruvian expert estimated that the damage would reach $500 million, and the death toll, which stood at 50,000, seemed likely to rise even higher. Rescuers were led by the stench to bodies buried beneath mounds of rubble.

The disaster brought at least a temporary reconciliation between Washington and Lima. For almost two years, the U.S. and the Peruvian nationalist junta led by General Juan Velasco Alvarado have been feuding over Peru's seizure of U.S. properties. After an unfortunate initial delay, the U.S. won warm thanks from the Peruvian generals for its effective aid. From the U.S.'s Southern Command in Panama came a 40-man rescue team three days after the quake, and giant Chinook helicopters from the carrier Guam lifted supplies into remote Andean villages that otherwise were completely cut off from the outside world by landslides. Washington also donated $10 million in relief funds.

Other countries sent transport planes winging to Lima in what the Peruvian press described as "a world air bridge." Tents and medicines arrived by air from Russia, powdered milk from France, more medicines from Spain. French President Pompidou announced a na tional campaign to aid the grief-stricken nation, and Yugoslavia's Marshal Tito asked his countrymen to send contributions. More than 200 Chilean families offered to adopt some of the estimated 5,000 orphaned children. Aid also came from Fidel Castro, who seeks to make common cause with the Peruvian army's radical reform policies. Along with 20 planeloads of Cuban medical supplies and donated blood, Castro sent a pint of his own blood.

Rumania: The Crest

For more than a month, Rumania has been gripped in a struggle with the rising waters of the Danube and its tributaries. Last week, as the river crested at ten feet above its normal level, all but two of the country's 39 districts were either partially or totally inundated. Though emergency sandbagging kept the flood away from Bucharest and the big steel plant at Galati, Rumania has already suffered more property damage than during all of World War II.

Fed by abnormally heavy rains and a sudden thaw in the Carpathian mountains, the Danube had smashed through dikes and dams. It destroyed at least 284 bridges, wiped out one-sixth of the nation's train rails, swept under whole towns and washed away much of Rumania's richest topsoil. The death toll so far stands at 209, and some 500,000 people have been left homeless. Aided by relief supplies from 30 nations, including the U.S., which sent more aid than the Soviets did, the entire country has been mobilizing to combat the disaster. For the past month, Rumania's President, Nicolae Ceausescu, has done little but supervise flood-defense work, making frequent trips to the countryside to cheer up exhausted workers.

Though the waters are expected to subside within a few more weeks, the job of rebuilding the nation's shattered economy will take four or five years. Moreover, any economic weakness at home threatens to undermine Ceausescu's hard-won political independence within the Soviet bloc. Though Ceausescu has managed to increase his country's trade with the West, Russia remains by far Rumania's most important customer. Many Rumanians now worry that Moscow may take advantage of the flood to reassert its domination.

Quiet Nerve. Since the flooding began, Ceausescu has made one trip to Moscow, apparently with inconclusive results. Soviet offers of aid were reportedly tied to a list of general demands, including acceptance of Moscow's long-cherished notion of Rumanian "integration" into COMECON, the Communist common market, which would block his attempts to build up an independent economy. Just how hard the Soviets are prepared to press will be evident next month when Soviet Party Boss Leonid Brezhnev arrives in Bucharest for the signing of a new Rumanian-Soviet friendship treaty. Drafted two years ago, the document so far has not been amended to include mention of either the Brezhnev Doctrine, permitting Soviet intervention in socialist countries, or of support for Moscow in the event of a Sino-Soviet clash.

Ceausescu has been carefully lining up support. With his customary display of quiet nerve, he has gratefully accepted $444,050 worth of Chinese flood aid and even dispatched his Vice President, Emil Bodnaras, to Peking and Pyongyang to talk long-term economic deals. He has proposed a "standing Balkan conference" that would, among other things, give Rumania yet another set of economic partners (Turkey, Greece, Bulgaria and Yugoslavia), and is planning a visit to Paris later this month where he hopes to line up more joint ventures with French industries. The flood has, however, brought Ceausescu surcease from Soviet pressure in at least one area. Rumania's flooded countryside is certain to remain too soggy to support tanks for many months. Result: it would be useless for the Soviets to demand that the joint Warsaw Pact exercises be held in Rumania next month, as they have been urging.

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