bout de papier, Vol. 7, No. 4 (1990), pp. 41–43
Somoza Falling: The Nicaraguan
Dilemma: A Portrait of Washington at
Work, by Anthony Lake, Boston: Houghton
Mifflin Company, 1989, 291 pp., US$18.95.
When Anthony Lake resigned from his job as the Director of Policy Planning in the State Department at the end of the Carter presidency, he became a university professor at a small but distinguished New England college. His dilemma was teaching about foreign relations from the insider’s perspective — not the grand theories of realism, idealism or game theory — not the conspiratorial hobby-horses of the far Right or far Left — not even the “great man” theories much promulgated by the Nixons and Kissingers in self-serving autobiographies. Twenty-years of service in Washington gave Lake his own perspective and insights, which he decided to convey in the form of a case study.
The result is Somoza Falling, a fascinating, important book on the American response to the fall of the Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza during the last years of Carter and Vance. It is an inside perspective, a story of the flesh and blood of international relations, of clashes and personalities and principles, and ultimately, of a key foreign policy failure which did much to condemn Carter to defeat in the presidential election of 1980. Anyone interested in the mechanics and conduct of American foreign policy and inter-play among the agencies and departments in Washington that puts their mark upon international relations will find this a compelling book.
Lake’s book is sufficiently complex and far-reaching that it defies easy summary. At one level, he argues that much of the foreign policy process under Jimmy Carter, including its response to events in Nicaragua, involved an unavoidable clash of principles and interests. Human rights and non-interventionism were the key principles, and implementing them involved conflicts between the old hand careerists in the State Department and the political appointees in State and the National Security Agency. But foreign policy principles played only a restricted role as the Nicaraguan drama unfolded. Issues of personality, bureaucratic inertia, timing and judgment came into play. Other issues on the foreign policy agenda, Iran or SALT II, consumed time and effort. Ultimately, a series of key errors robbed the Carter presidency of the capacity to influence the course of events.
By mid-1978, when both State and NSC determined that Somoza was a liability, there was disagreement on how to remove him.
The Carter appointees, determined to break a half-century of overt American interventionism in Central America, insisted that other Central or South American countries or the OAS act as the agents of change. The more pragmatic State careerists, less attuned to the domestic imperative of issues of principle and convinced of the need to act before Sandinista insurgent forces became too powerful, argued the case for determined, pre-emptive American action. The interagency compromise which ensued was a prescription for drift, which enabled Somoza to cling to power until it was finally too late.
There were other problems which afflicted the policy planning process. The American Embassy in Managua had limited contacts outside of the capital and no real means of testing the overall pulse of the country. The CIA had no sources within the Sandinistas and could not assess the military capabilities of Somoza’s chief opponents. When Somoza first hinted at his willingness to stand down in exchange for asylum in the United States, the State Department squandered a critical opportunity by providing an unduly weak and bureaucratic reply. Leaks, counter-leaks, blatant Congressional interference and second-guessing by the NSC staff prevented Carter from getting solid, long-term advice.
In mid-1979, as the Sandinistas were advancing on Managua, there was a change of USA ambassadors at an astoundingly inept moment. A new head of mission (with a fresh number two arrived in Nicaragua armed with the task of getting Somoza out and putting together a transitional government pending the holding of free elections. He arrived, distrustful of a lacklustre embassy staff, without any local contacts, and hobbled by an unrealistic game plan patched together by endless “inter-agency” meetings in Washington. The dénouement came less than a month after the new Ambassador’s arrival, after an abortive failure to form a new government, with the Sandinistas marching in triumph through Managua and, in scenes reminiscent of Havana, Saigon, Teheran and a score of other foreign policy disasters, the American Embassy under siege. In the judgment of one American diplomat, “It was Cuba all over again.”
Lake sums up Washington’s failure in Nicaragua with a fascinating concluding chapter. The first half of the “afterthought” is pure policy: understanding the nature of Third World revolutions and the need to tailor American foreign policy in keeping with the pace of indigenous social change. The second half of the chapter is especially relevant to career foreign service officers: the need for strong, experienced professionals in the mid to upper echelons of the decision-making apparatus. Arguing that an imbalance between political appointments and protessionals has badly skewed the American policy process, Lake calls for key reforms: the return of career officers to the staff of the NSC, where the presidency can be served directly; the appointment of more balanced numbers of careerists to head-of-mission positions (instead of the current ratio, where six of ten appointments are political); greater interchange between the academic world and the foreign policy establishment, where knowledge and expertise can be pooled; and a rejuvenation of regional expertise, linguistic skills and functional depth, in place of an undue (and misplaced) focus on “management skills.”
The problems exposed in Somoza Falling are hardly new. But rarely have they been treated with the insight and depth with which Anthony Lake has dealt with the American response to political change in Nicaragua. To anyone seeking to understand the travails of the American foreign service, the humiliations of some recent American foreign policy disasters, or the career frustrations of many of our American colleagues, this book should be compulsory reading.
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Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 7, No. 4 (1990), pp. 41–43. Read the rest of this issue →
