Monday, Feb. 08, 1988
Whose Foreign Policy Is It Anyway?
By Charles Krauthammer
The Arias peace plan signed in Guatemala by five Central American Presidents has made one certain contribution to the endless debate about contra aid: a new vocabulary. All sides must now make their case in the ritual language of the Guatemala accord. Opponents of contra aid say they are simply fulfilling the part that calls for an end to outside aid to insurgents. (Cutting off Nicaraguan aid to the Salvadoran insurgents is left to the appropriate Nicaraguan parliamentary committees.) The Administration, for its part, portrays contra aid as a mere "insurance policy" to save the peace plan in case the Sandinistas renege on their promises.
Neither side is impolite enough to note that the Guatemala accord has already expired. It was always more a hope than a plan. It had no enforcement mechanism. It has formally abolished its international verification commission. And three weeks ago it, in effect, abolished itself: the plan, said the communique of the five Central American Presidents gathered to assess its progress, had not been implemented, but no deadlines were extended. The U.S. Congress, with its vote this week on contra aid, has by default been designated to make the final judgment on Sandinista compliance.
But even if the Arias plan were still a going concern, a question remains: Why should the U.S. allow its interests and policies in Central America to be determined by others? House Speaker Jim Wright was asked about putting contra aid in escrow, to be released depending on future Sandinista behavior. Perhaps, said Wright, but only "if we're willing to abide by the determination of those Central Americans themselves . . . rather than allowing someone in the State Department simply on his whim to say who is complying and who isn't."
Wright disdains the idea of leaving determinations critical to American foreign policy to "someone in the State Department" -- say, the Secretary of State. The Speaker, who has of late been playing the plenipotentiary, perhaps fancies himself better suited to the role. But it is truly odd to prefer leaving such determinations to foreigners. Most countries devote enormous resources to maintaining independence of judgment in foreign policy. Only in America does the majority leader offer a foreign policy for export.
The target of Democratic affections, the man to whom Wright would most like to assign the conduct of U.S. policy in Central America, is Costa Rican President Arias. He has become the authority for what is right and what is not. With his Nobel aura, Arias has taken on the aspect of a man who has transcended mere politics and national interest.
But President Arias, no less than President Ortega, is necessarily a creature of his time and place. His northern neighbor is run by committed Leninists with announced plans for a 600,000-man military. As the President of an unarmed country whose ultimate protector, the United States, has proved itself utterly vacillating in dealing with these Leninists, Arias is hardly a free agent, let alone a philosopher king. He is less the detached Central American pondering the fate of his continent than he is President of a defenseless principality looking to secure its future.
Given Congress's performance over the past seven years, any Central American must anticipate that the future will include a Nicaragua run by Sandinistas. To be the architect of a plan that saves the Sandinistas from the contra threat (and, en passant, softens some of the rougher edges of Sandinista rule) will serve Arias and Costa Rica well in a Central America destined to be dominated by Nicaragua.
There is nothing wrong with such a calculation. Appeasement from lack of will is a disgrace. But appeasement from lack of power is mere prudence. It is no slur on the President of Costa Rica to suggest that he is pursuing his nation's interest. What is curious is the idea widespread in Congress that it is illegitimate, a breach of good neighborliness, for the U.S. to do the same.
For the Democrats, the Arias plan came just in time. It is the new anchor for the anti-contra case, a case that is running out of the usual arguments. It was variously said that the contras could not win, had no support and even less legitimacy. Yet after one year of full U.S. funding, they have had considerable success in the field. The Sandinistas find themselves stretched and on the defensive. Most ominously, the internal opposition is talking to the contras about what the Sandinistas fear will be a "united front" of the kind they used to topple Somoza. That, for what until recently was derided as a rump Somocista army, is legitimacy. Legitimacy has come from yet another source. "By agreeing to negotiate with the contras," says Representative Lee Hamilton, a leading opponent of contra aid, "the Sandinistas have in effect recognized the legitimacy of the contras."
From which development (and other concessions wrung out of the Sandinistas by the contras) Hamilton concludes that the contras should now be cut off. Such a leap of illogic can only be achieved by appeal to the sacred text of the Arias plan. The contras have gathered support, established their legitimacy and forced open some political space. Why then destroy them? Because the "Central Americans" wish it.
Now it is doubtful whether, before Nicaragua is fully democratized and thus demilitarized, this is indeed the wish of Nicaragua's neighbors. But assume that it is. Assume further that proximity gives Central Americans greater moral cachet than North Americans to decide Nicaragua's future. What then gives a Costa Rican more moral authority to decide the fate of Nicaragua than 12,000 to 15,000 Nicaraguans fighting to liberate their own country and asking only for the materials with which to do it?
The Arias plan has become the great totem of the current Nicaragua debate. But it is no substitute for an American foreign policy. Americans still have to ask themselves the basic questions. Questions of national interest: Can the U.S. risk the domination of Central America by a Soviet client state? And questions of national purpose: Is it right for the U.S. to support a guerrilla force fighting a Leninist dictatorship? "Central American" answers to these questions are conflicting and cacophonous. In deciding its own answers, ! America might want to listen to various of these voices. It is not obliged to be commanded by them.