FIRST SIGNS OF A POLICY NIGHTMARE

WASHINGTON -- Colombia is quickly becoming a "front burner" issue for U.S.
foreign policy. The reasons--escalating violence and rising drug
production--are not hard to discern. But what the United States expects to
accomplish in dealing with the hemisphere's most troubled country remains a
mystery.

Washington's impulse to "do something" and "get tough" is understandable,
even legitimate. But that impulse needs to flow from a hard-headed
assessment of what goals are realistic and feasible, a clear understanding
of how far the United States is prepared to go and a rigorous analysis of
possible consequences and ramifications.

The United States' creeping involvement in Latin America's third-largest
country is undeniable. Colombia ranks third, after Israel and Egypt, in
receiving U.S. security assistance. This year, the U.S. is providing some
$289 million to Colombia in counternarcotics assistance, three times the
amount it gave in 1998, which had already doubled each of the preceding two
years. The bulk of the money goes to Colombia's national police; the
country's military receives about $40 million. In addition, the U.S. is
sharing intelligence information with the military.

Few doubt that more--perhaps substantially more--is yet to come. Recently,
after meeting in Washington with Colombia's defense minister and armed
forces chief, Gen. Barry R. McCaffrey, U.S. drug czar, proposed increasing
the amount of support to drug-producing countries by $1 billion, nearly
$600 million of which would go to Colombia (more than the Colombians
themselves requested). McCaffrey defended his proposal by citing the
"explosion" in cocaine production and spreading insecurity. Fighting drugs,
in fact, remains the only rationale for U.S. Colombia policy that is
politically popular and palatable with the American people.

But over the past several months, the loss of government authority and
frightening advances by insurgents, toward the capital city of Bogota as
well as across the borders of neighboring countries, have deepened
Washington's concerns. Insurgent and paramilitary activities, a pervasive
drug economy, political and institutional decay and an unprecedented
recession (unemployment is at a record 20%) produce conditions that seem to
deteriorate by the day. Colombians who are able to leave are doing so in
droves.

President Andres Pastrana, taking a big risk in dealing with decades-long,
seemingly intractable violence, has identified peace as his highest
priority. Yet, with almost a year in office, he has little to show for the
effort. His administration has suffered repeated setbacks and occasional
humiliations, both military and political, in its pursuit of peace. Talks
with insurgents have now been postponed.

To be fair to Pastrana, making progress with the country's most formidable
insurgent force is anything but easy. The Revolutionary Armed Forces of
Colombia (FARC), which dates to the 1960s, is militarily and financially
stronger than ever. Its roughly 15,000 combatants operate with a network
whose members are estimated at two to three times that number. Aside from
power in some form, it is not entirely clear what they want.

After an auspicious meeting last July between then-president-elect Pastrana
and the FARC's undisputed leader, Manuel "Sureshot" Marulanda, the
country's chief guerrilla force has been obstinate in its behavior and
unreasonable in its demands. There is a growing perception that the FARC is
fundamentally uninterested in negotiations and that the insurgency is
simply distracting the government while bolstering its position. Recent
declarations by FARC leaders questioning the Colombian government's
goodwill don't inspire confidence.

From the outset, Pastrana's idea has been to deal with the FARC before
turning to Colombia's other major violent forces, the leftist National
Liberation Army (ELN) and the rightist militia groups, each with
approximately 5,000 combatants. But the FARC's recalcitrance, coupled with
the militias' and ELN's ruthlessness and peevishness--the ELN's kidnappings
of airplane passengers and churchgoers shocked an already numbed
nation--have made it difficult for the Colombian president to succeed.
Although a government negotiating team and FARC leaders announced a common
agenda May 2, the areas for discussion remain exceedingly vague and cover
the gamut, from reforming the justice system to redistributing land.

All this disheartening news has raised serious questions, both in
Washington and in Colombia, about the clarity and coherence of Pastrana's
peace strategy and even about the desirability of trying to negotiate with
the insurgents. It is thus not surprising that U.S. policymakers find
themselves edging toward greater support for Colombia's security forces,
whose principal goal is, after all, defeating the guerrillas.

Yet, is it, in fact, the purpose of U.S. Colombia policy to defeat the
guerrillas? Is it to reduce drug production? Or, taking a page from the
U.S. role in El Salvador in the 1980s, to "level the playing field," which
would enhance the Colombian government's leverage to negotiate peace with
the insurgents?

For many U.S. officials, the answer is: all the above. They regard the
guerrillas and those involved in the drug trade, producers and traffickers,
as virtually indistinguishable. They are interconnected in complex ways.
But they are distinct and ought to be understood as such.

Important consequences flow from such a misunderstanding. For one,
trade-offs among different policy aims tend to be ignored and belittled.
There needs to be greater appreciation that not all objectives have equal
weight--and not all policies, however valuable and well-intentioned, can be
pursued at the same time.

The evolving U.S. policy toward Colombia also raises some human-rights
questions. The country's human-rights situation is dire by any measure,
with about 1 million Colombians displaced from their homes. The vast
majority of all political killings are committed by the country's expanding
militia groups, whose links with the armed forces are varied and
complicated, often depending on the region. Confrontations between the
armed forces and the paramilitary groups have been rare. Although U.S. law
requires any military unit that receives U.S. assistance to be thoroughly
vetted, in practice this is hard to monitor and is bound to be highly
contentious.

Human-rights questions aside, however, what's crucial is to face squarely
what military aid to Colombia actually means. Should the United States make
defeating the guerrillas its main goal? If so, how much would that cost and
how long would it take? Once undertaken, how far is Washington prepared to
go? The Colombian situation has all the elements of "mission creep." But
military assistance is, at best, only part of what needs to be a
comprehensive approach to help Colombia deal with its underlying problems.

That is precisely why pursuing a program of reform and reconciliation is so
essential. Increased U.S. support for the Colombian armed forces should be
seriously considered. But that step should be an appendage of a broader
strategy. The aim should be to improve the Colombian government's
capabilities and leverage, to enable it to negotiate from strength.

The risk, however, is that advocates of military support will be too
focused on that limited aspect. We cannot lose sight of the longer-term
task of working with Colombia to help the country construct a more
inclusive society and just, institutional order.

Few doubt that Colombia is at war. The United States, in conjunction with
its hemispheric neighbors, can--and should--help the country arrive at that
day when Colombians no longer consider violence their first option.