In the spring of 1984, in the nation whose leaders considered it the defender of the free world, a great controversy developed. It seems that this nation's president and a few of his friends had done a terrible thing without anyone knowing.
Tired of a lack of success in their little war against Nicaragua—after all, the contra force they were backing had increased to 15,000 men but still couldn't grab a piece of land and hold it for a provisional territory—they resorted to ordering the placement of several hundred advanced acoustical mines in three of Nicaragua's harbors. They solicited the involvement of an elite group of Latin American commandos in small, high-speed boats to do the dirty work, while CIA officials directed them from a boat beyond territorial waters.
European allies of the United States condemned its actions, and France even offered its mine sweepers to help the Nicaraguan government remove the mines. The U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, Jeane Kirkpatrick, responded in a television interview in London, the capital of one of the protesting nations, "The Europeans have never been very expert in ... Central America. That they shouldn't share our perceptions doesn't bother me, doesn't surprise me."
In the United States, critics of the president's action, from opposition presidential candidates to some of the president's staunchest supporters, called the action "a clear violation of international law," "state terrorism," "an act of war." Astute observers noted that the critics were very upset.
On April 8, U.S. Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger stated on national television, "The United States is not mining the harbors of Nicaragua." When asked whether his denial included CIA activities, he replied, "Well, I'm ... not making any kind of comments about anything of that sort. But from declining to make any comment, you shouldn't draw any conclusions whatever."
The U.S. Congress seemed confused about whether or not it had been informed about the mining operation. Some members mentioned that they might have seen a line about it in a report somewhere. Others, including close friends of the president and chairs of the committees who should have been the first to know, claimed that they had no knowledge of it prior to the operation.
On April 10 the Senate, controlled by the president's own party, condemned the mining operation in an overwhelming 84-to-12 vote. Although the Senate had earlier approved $21 million for the covert war, this non-binding resolution—which will not directly affect policy—sent a clear message opposing the use of any of these funds for the mining of Nicaragua's harbors.
Jesse Helms, one of the 12 dissenting senators, said that the people who are laying the mines "are working for the best interests of the Nicaraguan people and of all the people in the region. Whatever role, if any, may have been played by U.S. officials should not blind us to the fundamental truth that what we should do is applaud." The president said about the vote, "If it is not binding, I can live with it."
On the same day, senior administration officials told the Washington Post that the CIA views the mining of Nicaraguan ports as part of a "holding action" until after Reagan's re-election, when the covert war can be "stepped up." The White House issued an immediate disclaimer.
Two days later, the House of Representatives passed a resolution similar to the Senate's in a 281-to-111 vote. Further, House Speaker Thomas P. O'Neill vowed that when the vote on the $21 million for the covert war comes to the House floor, it will be defeated.
Two months and eight damaged ships after the beginning of the mining operation, Nicaragua decided to take its case to court. Apart from the damage to foreign shipping vessels, Nicaragua itself had suffered damage to shrimp boats it had used as improvised mine sweepers, and several Nicaraguans had been wounded in its harbors. At Corinto, Nicaragua's largest port—through which $111 million worth of cotton was exported last year—bales of cotton have been stacked two stories high waiting for shipment. Foreign shipping companies have been reluctant to venture into Nicaraguan ports; an outright refusal to do so would be a severe blow which could imperil Nicaragua's already suffering economy.
Many people in Nicaragua, the United States, and the rest of the world think that the Nicaraguans have a case. And, alas, it seems the U.S. president and his friends think so, too. Three days before the Nicaraguan lawsuit was filed in the World Court, the Reagan administration announced that it would refuse the court's jurisdiction for two years in disputes involving Central America (a troubling phenomenon, since the United States went to the same court four years ago to demand that Iran release its U.S. hostages).
On the same day that Nicaragua filed its lawsuit against the United States, President Reagan gathered with administration officials, members of Congress, and the U.S. chief justice in the White House rose garden. During the ceremony, a tribute to respect for law, Reagan designated May 1 as "Law Day USA." The president was heard to say, "We in the United States have been blessed to live in a land where law and freedom are found not only simply in a constitution and a bill of rights, but in our daily lives."
The end.
Joyce Hollyday was an associate editor of Sojourners magazine when this article appeared.
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