Panama The General Went to Work

By Jill Smolowe.

Shortly before sunrise, some 30 heavily armed security troops rode by truck into the posh residential neighborhood of Altos de Golf. Quickly, the Israeli- trained riot police fanned out in front of a white-walled house. Overhead, two Huey helicopter gunships hovered, soldiers and their machine guns peeking through the open doors. At 5:30 a.m., the first shots rang out.

Bullets flew from both sides of the white wall, turning the suburban street into a war zone. At 6:25, an officer picked up a megaphone and urged surrender. The message was directed at Colonel Roberto Diaz Herrera, Panama's former No. 2 military man and a vociferous critic of the country's de facto leader, General Manuel Antonio Noriega. Now Diaz Herrera taunted, "Tell Noriega to come and get me." An hour later police forced Diaz Herrera and a retinue of 45 guests, relatives and bodyguards from the house. All was quiet when, just a few blocks away, Noriega calmly emerged from his house at 9:35 and set off for work.

The general was among the few Panamanians to keep office hours that day. The raid on the Diaz Herrera residence coincided with the start of a general strike called by a broad coalition of groups determined to topple Noriega. The work stoppage was the latest evidence of mounting pressure for Noriega's ouster. The unrest began two months ago when Diaz Herrera publicly charged Noriega with corruption, election fraud and masterminding the murder of a leading opponent. Since then, the clamor to dump Noriega has grown more insistent. Indeed, Reagan Administration officials, anxious for Noriega to step down, said privately last week that they have begun to search for a successor behind whom they could throw their support.

But the general has made it clear that he is girding for a prolonged battle. In anticipation of the general strike, which for two days closed 90% of all businesses in Panama City, the government imposed a news blackout. Troops seized the offices of the leading opposition newspaper, La Prensa, and shut down two other papers as well. On Friday, Noriega's backers staged a rally of 50,000, many of them government workers, in the capital.

Noriega also took aim at the country's increasingly belligerent students. Early last Wednesday, several hundred students at the University of Panama protested the death of Eduardo Enrique Carrera, 24, a classmate who had been killed by police fire three days earlier. Though the military said Carrera was shot after scuffling with police, relatives claimed that the boy was slain after he shouted, "Down with Noriega!" Riot squads, known as the Dobermans, dispersed the demonstrators with tear gas and bird shot. Classes were suspended for the rest of the week.

Intimidation tactics seem only to have toughened the resolve of the National Civic Crusade, an assortment of 107 business, civic and student organizations that are pushing for Noriega's removal. Even the example made of Diaz Herrera, who faces up to 15 years in prison if convicted of sedition, has failed to subdue the Crusade's passion. Three days after Diaz Herrera's arrest, members of the opposition attended Carrera's funeral dressed in white, their symbolic color of protest, and passed out mimeographed statements.

What began primarily as a squabble between Noriega's cronies and affluent businessmen has mushroomed into a movement that now includes a large slice of Panama's middle class. Moreover, antagonism toward Noriega is spreading outward from the capital to points up and down the S-shaped isthmus. Last week's general strike closed hundreds of businesses in the provinces. "We were frankly surprised," said Ricardo Arias Calderon, an opposition leader. "The shutdown had a national character we hadn't expected." The protest, however, did not affect activity along the Panama Canal, which grosses up to $500 million a year.

U.S. officials found the strike encouraging. "Noriega won't be able to return to the status quo," predicted a State Department official. "Panamanians are desirous of legitimate democracy, and we support the move toward democracy." Washington's support has included the suspension of $26 million in economic and military aid to Panama, following a June attack on the U.S. embassy by a pro-Noriega mob. Last week Panama paid $106,000 to compensate for the damage. But by week's end, the U.S. had not yet agreed to thaw the freeze on aid.

Administration officials are quietly encouraging the opposition's efforts. The State Department hopes to persuade the White House to pursue a strategy that would include increasingly harsh public denunciations of the general, discreet overtures to members of Noriega's inner circle and, eventually, support for his replacement by a moderate military man who would serve as a caretaker until presidential elections could be held. The Defense Intelligence Agency is trying to help identify a potential successor, but the task is not an easy one. "There are some honorable, professional military men," says a ( U.S. official. "But Noriega has relegated them to the bush."

Washington officials sound more and more as if they believe Panama can quickly follow the Philippines and South Korea on the march toward democracy. "Noriega's days are numbered," says one official. "He just doesn't know it." Noriega, however, is not a man to be intimidated by the gringos. Panamanians say the general will go when his military staff of 19 colonels advises him that the moment is right -- and not a moment sooner.

With reporting by Ricardo Chavira/Washington and Laura Lopez/Panama City