Central America the Freshening Winds of War

By Jill Smolowe.

As Nicaraguan President Daniel Ortega Saavedra made the rounds in New York City last week during an eight-day visit to the U.S., it was easy to forget that he is the man who just a month ago called Ronald Reagan "a new Hitler." Instead, the seasoned comandante played the polished politician, while he embarked on a campaign to win American hearts and minds. During meetings with political, church and press groups, he answered questions with some candor, trying, though not always successfully, to steer clear of revolutionary jargon. Appearing before the United Nations Security Council, he appealed for U.N. endorsement of a recent World Court decision that called for Washington to stop supporting the contra rebels. "We do not want confrontation," he declared. "Nicaragua is willing to engage immediately in negotiations with the U.S."

The Reagan Administration was not impressed. Vernon Walters, chief U.S. delegate to the U.N., called the offer for negotiations a "lie." He charged that Nicaragua's Sandinista regime was "laying the groundwork for a one-party state." His Nicaraguan counterpart, Nora Astorga in turn accused Walters of "repeating the same distortions and lies" in order to disguise an illegal U.S. policy of aggression. Walters countered, "Is it a lie that the Sandinistas have sought to destroy the democratic labor movement? Is it a lie that the Sandinistas have sought to crush Nicaragua's private sector?" Within moments, Ortega's appeal was forgotten, and the winds of war began to stir once more.

Ever since the U.S. House of Representatives approved a $100 million package of contra aid six weeks ago, those breezes have been freshening on both sides. In Nicaragua, warnings of a Yanqui invasion have become louder than ever, and the Pacific port of Corinto has been bustling with new shipments of Soviet arms. U.S. intelligence estimates that by the end of November, Nicaragua's 119,000-strong armed forces will have up to 60 Soviet armored helicopters. In Washington, officials have said that as soon as the Senate approves the aid money, the CIA will resume operational control of the contra campaign, and the rebels will be equipped with antiaircraft missiles. "The war will be nastier than it's ever been," says a U.S. official. "What we're seeing is both sides gearing up for this new phase." The only players who so far seem uninfected by the war bug are the contras. While the CIA and the Sandinista Popular Army ratchet up their plans for what Ortega warns may be "another Viet Nam," the rebels seem content to idle away the hours in their Honduran camps. Two weeks ago, contra military leaders, packing showy chrome and gold-plated pistols, celebrated the reappearance of CIA officials at rebel headquarters near the Honduran capital of Tegucigalpa.

Although relieved that their CIA handlers are back, the contras show few signs of being prepared to meet the Sandinistas head on. Indeed, they seem obsessed with the poor performance of their troops. One described a recent mission in which a 400-member rebel task force crossed into Nicaragua. "The moment the force hit the first villages and peasant farms," he said, "our troops started to slip away." Soon, he continued, almost all the rebels "had gone home to see their families." Weeks later, the deserters rejoined the force for the return trip to Honduras. At the border, "the task force unloaded its magazines, shooting at targets, at animals and in the air." Returning with unspent ammunition would have been a sure sign that they had not engaged the enemy.

Only twelve months ago, the same contra commanders talked with markedly more confidence. They then boasted that despite a cutoff of U.S. military aid, they had all the equipment and ammunition they needed. With 14,000 guerrillas inside Nicaragua, and 3,000 more poised along the Honduran border, Commander in Chief Enrique Bermudez predicted that the contras would soon "confront the Sandinistas with a major military, economic and political crisis."

Little of that has come to pass. True, the Sandinistas have had to commit at least 50% of their meager budget to defense. But while the contra ranks have swollen to perhaps 20,000, intelligence agencies estimate that 6,000 rebels are deployed inside Nicaragua. They are dismissed by the Sandinista army as little more than an irritant. "They can't do us any harm," says Sandinista Commander Roberto Calderon. Last year even Bermudez claimed that the contras were faring better without the CIA. Now he says, "We are waiting for the agency to help us carry on."

Can the CIA shake the contras out of their malaise? Some members of the Administration have strong doubts. They point to the contras' refusal to adopt small-scale guerrilla tactics suited to the mountainous Nicaraguan terrain. "Until I hear Bermudez start talking about breaking into small, mobile units," says one State Department official, "I'll remain skeptical about their chances."

Political unity also continues to elude the rebels. Last May, Washington pressured the contras' three civilian leaders into announcing that they would share all decision making. Since then, Adolfo Calero, the member of the trio with the closest ties to the CIA and the contra military, is rumored to have spurned the troika and struck out on his own. In May, rebels also promised to enforce a human rights code. Last week a high-ranking contra told TIME that both Calero and Bermudez have decided to shut down the contras' human rights office. "They fail to understand the importance of it," he said.

The rebels, who have no air force to speak of, are intimidated by the Sandinistas' sizable air-strike capability. Moreover, they are outflanked by the Sandinistas' quick-response counterinsurgency forces and beefed-up electronic intelligence-gathering capabilities, all under the watchful eyes of some 2,500 Soviet and East bloc advisers and technicians, as well as up to 8,000 Cuban military advisers. Still, it may be simply that the relative ease and safety of life in the Honduran camps has dampened the contras' appetite for the guerrilla life. "The U.S. helped corrupt them by offering them better living conditions, free meals and freedom," says a Honduran intelligence official. "They lost the desire to fight."

The Sandinista army, by contrast, is hell-bent on quashing the contras. Washington continues to warn that the Sandinistas may escalate the air war by introducing Soviet-built MiG jet fighters to the region, a circumstance that could provoke direct U.S. military action. U.S. intelligence reports show that about two dozen Nicaraguan pilots are currently receiving flight training in the Soviet Union and Bulgaria.

Realistically, the contras cannot be expected to bring down Central America's largest and most powerful fighting machine anytime soon. "The question is not whether the contras can win," says one U.S. official. "The real question is whether the contras can be a viable military force within Nicaragua." U.S. officials are already predicting that the contras will hit Congress for more aid a year from now. If they hope to get a hearing, they will have to prove that they are more than marauders.

With reporting by Ricardo Chavira with Ortega and David Halevy/Tegucigalpa