Panama Sparring (Again) with a Dictator

By Jill Smolowe

The U.S. called him Panama's top narcotraficante, indicted him in Florida and vowed to depose him. But General Manuel Antonio Noriega still runs the country, and even though he will not be standing for election on May 7, he looms as the power behind the throne. Polls show that Noriega's handpicked candidate for President, Carlos Duque, trails opposition candidate Guillermo Endara by more than 2 to 1. Yet U.S. officials and opposition leaders are convinced Duque will steal the election. They charge that evidence of government chicanery already abounds: manipulation of voter rolls to keep opponents from the polls, coercion of public employees to vote the government ticket, fraudulent registration practices that will permit Noriega boosters to cast multiple ballots.

The only real suspense seems to be just how far Noriega will go to ensure Duque's triumph -- and how U.S. officials and irate Panamanians will react when the tainted returns trickle in. The Bush Administration is betting that the cocky Noriega will trip on his own blind determination. As Washington sketchs it, Noriega's supporters will resort to such blatant electoral fraud that Panamanians will take to the streets in furious protest, sparking a brutish response from the Panama Defense Forces. The international outcry will deepen Panama's diplomatic isolation, and eventually the economic and political erosion will reach such dire proportions that the military will abandon Noriega. And then? "We'll let things collapse of their own weight," says a senior Administration official.

The scenario sounds all too familiar -- and implausible. In February 1988, when Noriega was indicted on drug charges, the Reagan Administration expected Noriega to flee in panic. He stayed. Two months later Washington dispatched 1,300 additional troops to U.S. bases in Panama, hoping their very presence would cow Noriega into submission. It didn't. Then the U.S. imposed limited economic sanctions, designed to choke off the country's cash flow. The dollar shortage fell hardest on Panama's middle class, who began to grumble about unreliable American allies. That allowed Noriega to rally support inside as well as beyond Panama by portraying himself as a victim of Yanqui aggression. In the end, Washington managed only to devastate an economy that was both prosperous and closely tied to the U.S. "We have in fact severely damaged the Panamanian economy," says former President Jimmy Carter, who will lead an international delegation of observers to monitor the election.

The Reagan policy vacuum has carried over into the Bush era. Once again the State Department and the Pentagon are at odds, and what passes for policy shows little promise of dislodging the general. At a meeting convened by Bush in early February, State argued that Noriega is a danger to U.S. security; Defense countered that Noriega is a lesser evil than any of the underlings likely to succeed him as commander in chief. "Bush was very surprised to see that there was no unity," says an official. "He ended the meeting by telling everyone he would make up his mind on his own." Shortly after that meeting, Bush signed a secret presidential finding authorizing the CIA to funnel $10 million into the opposition's political campaign. Their candidates insist that none of the money has reached them, but Noriega has capitalized on the U.S. interference to deflect the election's focus from himself.

If the election proves a sham, the U.S. will have to seize the opportunity to bring international pressure to bear on Noriega. "At a time when the world is having free elections, including the Soviet Union and Poland, Panama is not," says Richard Lugar, a member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. "You need to make Noriega pay." To show its disapproval, the U.S. could restrict visas issued to pro-Noriega Panamanians, refuse to recognize the newly seated government, and turn away any ambassador sent to Washington by the Duque administration. The Administration wants to tighten sanctions, but further economic deterioration might fuel an anti-U.S. backlash. "When have economic sanctions ever toppled a regime?" asks Ambler Moss, a former U.S. Ambassador to Panama.

So far, Washington's game plan remains vague. The Administration has pledged that no deal will be cut with Noriega to quash the drug indictments. And a high-level official says that a fraudulent election will prompt the U.S. to consider new "diplomatic, intelligence and military" options, the first time the Bush team has suggested an armed intervention.

Other deadlines also press. Come September, the presidential term of Eric Arturo Delvalle expires. Though he was forced from office by Noriega 14 months ago, the U.S. continues to recognize the exiled Delvalle as the legitimate President, and has used that handy fiction to withhold $86.5 million in fees collected by the Panama Canal Commission. Bush must decide what to do with those funds, which are legally owed to Panama. Moreover, under the terms of the canal treaty, the American administrator of the PCC must be replaced by a Panamanian by January 1990. The U.S. Senate will have to approve the candidate, and if he is closely linked to Noriega, a bitter fight is certain.

But Panama's problem is not just Noriega. The general's friends say he is tired of facing down the gringos, but even if he capitulates, there is little evidence that the defense forces plan to retire to the barracks. "For real democracy to take place in Panama," Moss warns, "it will be a long-term workout, a gradual weaning away of the military from direct power." To encourage that, the Bush Administration must enlist Latin American allies. Recourse to the big stick will only sour relations with the region.

With reporting by James Carney/Miami and Ricardo Chavira/Washington