U.S. Takes It On The Chin

Last August 12, many Americans breathed sighs of relief when Prime Minister Begin took a telephone call from an angry President of the United States and finally heeded the President's pleas to stop the massive bombing of West Beirut.

To some, it looked as though Mr. Reagan was determined, at last, not to permit Israel any longer to ignore or flout U.S. interests in the area—and that Mr. Begin had finally got the message.

Yet the sighs of relief, whether real or figurative, turned out to be premature—to say the least.

By early September, Mr. Begin was once again acting without any apparent regard for the U.S.'s interests or its good opinion, and the U.S. was once again not liking it, but lumping it.

The latest drama began on September 2, when Mr. Begin angrily rejected the new U.S. Middle East plan as a "betrayal" of Israel, and responded to its call for a freeze on West Bank settlements by announcing he would establish new ones. The Administration's public reaction to Mr. Begin's statement was one of mild disappointment tempered with optimism.

The next day, when Israel moved tank forces into the south Beirut quarter of Bir Hassan, in clear violation of U.S.-mediated agreements which called for a "cease-fire in place," the move was virtually ignored by the Administration.

Then, on September 15 Israel—whether encouraged or not by Washington's earlier mild responses may never be known—took a quantum leap in its defiance of the Administration by invading West Beirut. By this action, Israel not only broke the ceasefire but reneged on assurances it had given to the U.S. These assurances had been tortuously negotiated by U.S. mediator Philip Habib, when Palestinian guerrillas expressed fears that Palestinian civilians could be in danger if Israelis were permitted to enter the city after the guerrillas had left. The PLO finally signed an evacuation agreement after the U.S. told them that this would not be allowed to happen.

When the Israelis attacked they announced publicly that they were moving into West Beirut for security reasons, to prevent any "dangerous developments" that might be provoked by the assassination, a few hours before, of Lebanon's President-elect. This justification, which was also passed along privately to U.S. mediator Morris Draper, was later acknowledged by Israeli Defense Minister Sharon to have been a falsehood—what he called a "smokescreen" for the real reason, which was to clean out anti-Israeli armed elements remaining in the Lebanese capital.

Honor and Credibility

For more than a day after the takeover, however, the Administration acted not as though its honor and credibility were at stake but as though it couldn't make up its mind whether or not what the Israelis did was all that bad. President Reagan, during a political tour in New Jersey, declared that Israel moved in because of "an attack ... by some of the leftist militia"—an inaccurate claim that not even the Israelis themselves had made. Other U.S. officials refused, in the face of repeated questioning by reporters, to criticize the takeover. One of them privately told a reporter: "We're not sure yet how to play it. It's hard to tell right now whether the Israeli presence is useful or not whether their being there for a few days will help to keep the peace or whether it will aggravate it."

Only after the Israelis had fanned out all over Beirut, picked up thousands of Lebanese and Palestinians for interrogation, made house-to-house searches for "suspects", looted office buildings and occupied foreign embassies did the U.S. Administration begin to show some serious concern. Complaining that it had been assured by Israel that its move would be a "limited and precautionary" one—Israel promptly denied having said anything of the kind—the Administration called for an "immediate" Israeli withdrawal. It also finally went on the record to say that "as a result of statements during the summer and after the assassination of Gemayel, the U.S. was under the impression Israel had no intention of occupying West Beirut."

The free-wheeling disregard for U.S. lives and property by Israeli troops might also have contributed to the Administration's new mood of irritation. At one point Israelis installed themselves in the half-completed, U.S.-government owned building which is to be the future U.S. Embassy, and used it as an observation post. In addition, an Israeli officer took a shot at a U.S. marine on the roof of the current Embassy building, missing him by only two feet. A White House spokesman pointed out that the attack "occurred in broad daylight, the U.S. flag was flying over the Embassy, and the guards' positions had been pointed out earlier to both the Israelis and the Lebanese."

On September 18, after the revelations of the massacre in the camps, the Administration began to display its anger and frustration. President Reagan publicly berated Israel for having said its invasion "would prevent the kind of tragedy which has now occurred," and this time "demanded" that the Israeli government withdraw its forces from West Beirut "immediately." But he did not say what the U.S. would do if the Israelis did not comply. The Israeli cabinet had already rejected an earlier U.S. call for immediate withdrawal.

In fact, in the days following the massacre carried out by Christian militias, Israel continued its policy of arming these militias in direct contravention of the Habib agreements—by handing over large numbers of the weapons that it captured during its invasion of West Beirut. Although all militias were listed in the U.S.-sponsored agreements as illegal forces which should be replaced by a newly-constituted Lebanese army, no critical comment was made by the Administration.

Waiting for Consent

On September 20, President Reagan set the stage for a new round of U.S. humiliations when he announced that the U.S. was sending back, as part of a multinational force, the marines who had earlier supervised the evacuation of the PLO.

Shortly after the announcement, some U.S. officials began telling reporters that all the Administration was waiting for to get the show on the road was the "consent" of the Israeli cabinet to the entry of the multinational force. They did not make it clear why consent was required from a country that was in occupation of another country and had not asked for anyone else's consent before invading and occupying it.

The hope of the U.S., France and Italy, which were sharing the multinational peacekeeping duties, was that the Israelis would be out of Beirut by the time the troops were scheduled to arrive. But when the French and Italians prepared to land, they found Israeli soldiers still lounging around the dockside. Both countries delayed their entry as a result, but finally went in anyway, with the Israelis still there—staring at them as they got off the ships.

The U.S. marines had originally been scheduled to land on Sunday, September 26. In a rare burst of official courage, a U.S. State Department spokesman had said that even if the Israelis were still there on Sunday, "our plans are to go ahead."

The courage was short-lived. When Sunday came, the Israelis had still not budged from Beirut airport—the area that the U.S. forces were planning to occupy—so the U.S. landing was deferred, while painstaking negotiations were carried out as to just when the Israelis would go.

By the time the marines landed on September 29, 12 days had already gone by since President Reagan had asked the Israelis for their "immediate" departure—and 11 days since he had "demanded" it. For most of that time, the Israelis had gone about their preparations for departure at a deliberate leisurely pace which to many Americans seemed to border on contempt. But the Administration's policy was still not to criticize: when a top U.S. official was asked in public if he thought the Israelis were "dragging their feet," he evaded the question.

Frustrating Familiarity

U.S. officials repeatedly made the point to reporters that to criticize publicly can be counterproductive, causing the Israelis to be more "intransigeant" and harder to deal with. But for many Americans there was a sense of frustrating familiarity at this approach. These same arguments were used when Israel bombed the suburbs of Baghdad, annexed the Golan Heights, killed teenagers on the West Bank, and invaded Lebanon—yet U.S. public restraint after each Israeli action did not seem to prevent the next.

The concern over the Administration's public stance by many Americans would probably be less if there were indications that the Administration were trying to exert restraint on Israel by deeds, rather than words. Although holding back on aid to Israel has long been considered a political "no-no," there were growing numbers of congressmen and others—as demonstrated by polls who believed the U.S. should exercise that option. Israel is now receiving more than $2.2 billion per year in economic and military aid.

Yet the Administration made it plain that it did not intend to pressure Israel by withholding aid either to get it out of Lebanon or to bring it into discussions on the new U.S. peace plan. The pressure, its spokesmen said, should come from a realization by Israel that peace in the Middle East is in its interest. What remained to be answered is how long the U.S. will keep taking it on the chin if Israel fails to see the light.