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is. "After breakfast, we have to get started on lunch, and it keeps goi ng from there," said the cook from the 1st Battalion of the 16th Infantry Regiment. Before NATO troops arrived in 1996, Serbian soldiers made the mountain t op their home and strategic stronghold. During the three-year civil war, artill ery rounds were lobbed into the villages below to fend off advancing Bosnian Mu slim troops. At one point, the Muslims took over the site. Rather than lose the strategic post, a Serbian commander ordered an airstrike on his own troops, wh ich ended up killing the commanders brother-in-law. While still a critical strategic site, NATOs Stabilization Force is in c ontrol with troops from forts Hood and Riley on guard. Even though guard duty can get boring, Manzo said it beats sitting behin d a desk. "When I joined the Army, I wanted to be out in the field and doing something," said Manzo, who joined the service last year after graduating from high school in California. When he is not standing guard, Manzo focuses his energy on pumping iron. "I just want to get bigger and bigger," he said, adding that his wor kouts help him stay busy. Spc. Matthew Johnson said that when not pulling guard he keeps himself b usy by beating his fellow soldiers in pool. "I talk a lot of smack and try to distract them," Johnson said "I make them laugh and then I beat them." That is, he says, when he doesnt choke by holing the 8-ball. But Johnsons jovial demeanor fades when he talks about how his duty in B osnia is changing his perspective. "I really feel sorry for these people," Johnson said. "Es pecially the kids here. I grew up thinking I had it rough because my mom was hu rt and couldnt work, but I had it much better than they do. It makes you gratef ul for what you have." Medic Pfc. Brad Adams said he is grateful for the mountaintop duty for a nother reason. "I love it here," Adams said. "Its so peaceful." Adams, who arrived at Mount Vis three weeks ago, said the relaxing atmos phere is just what the doctor ordered. "Its not as political here because there are not that many people a round," Adams said. He said he would rather focus on his job and work with a smaller group far away from headquarters. His first order of business, Adams said, is to help the troops take care of themselves medically. "Im trying to make my job more peaceful," said Adams, who warn S the new guys about the steep mountain pathways that can be hazardous. "I m into preventive medicine." Besides his medical practice, Adams finds the serene beauty of the site soothing and even inspiring. "I keep my Bible with me all the time," he said. "This is a great place for solace and reflection." <a name="s19990928realistic.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928realistic.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF=#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> European Stars and Stripes September 26, 1999 Pg. 3 Realistic Training Prepares GIs For Bosnia By Amee Puckett, Bosnia bureau CAMP DOBOL, Bosnia and Herzegovina Creeping along the worn asphalt roa d, a local farmer guides his horse-drawn wooden carriage, filled with stacks of freshly cut hay. On the opposite side, a Bosnian Muslim woman hugs the roads e dge, lugging bags of fruits, vegetables and bread to her home from the village market. Trailing behind, a cluster of small children, finished with a days scho oling, skip along the roads narrow shoulder. The children playfully chat with e ach other, hardly noticing cars that squeeze between the two groups taking def ensive driving to new levels. A familiar scene to the local people, but until e ight months ago, it was hardly imaginable to U.S. troops from New York and Kans as, who arrived in Bosnia last month. Now, such scenes have become commonplace for soldiers from the 10th Mou ntain Division (Light) from Fort Drum, N.Y., and 1st Battalion of the 16th Infa ntry Regiment (Mechanized) from Fort Riley, Kan. Of course, they did have some idea of what they were getting into. Earlier this year, soldiers were transported to the Joint Readiness Tra ining Center at Fort Polk, La., where they spent eight months in a simulated Ba Ikan world. The training site was composed of Bosnian Muslim and Serbian villag es, complete with Balkan natives serving as actors to make the scenarios as rea listic as possible. After about a month in Bosnia, the divisions commander said he is finding real life here to be quite similar to the staged scenarios, alth ough not exact. "No training can totally replicate the reality of the mission, &quo t; said U.S. Army Maj. Gen. James L. Campbell, commander of Multinational Divis ion-North of NATOs Stabilization Force and the Fort Drum, N.Y., division. He sa id the impact of soldiers actions have greater impact now than in a training en vironment. "Here, we are dealing with people in real situations," Campbe II said. "(The) decisions we make actually affect the lives of the local c itizens." To prepare for the mission, soldiers were exposed to as many situations and unexpected events as possible. Besides the driving challenges in Bosnia, J RTC training also taught troops lessons in how to clear marked and unmarked min efields, how to react to small-arms and artillery fire and how to interact with local civilians. The training was tailored to actual duties in Bosnia and base d on reports and coaching by soldiers who already had served in the country. Incoming task force commander, Lt. Col. Keith R. Lovejoy, said the timi ng and training could not have been better. "Weve been through a long trai ning program that prepared us well," said Lovejoy, who officially took ove r the task force mission from the 1st Cavalry Division of Fort Hood, Texas, at Camp Dobol last Monday. "It really exposed us to different situations and put civilians on the battlefield to make it more real," said Lovejoy, commander of the For t Riley infantry battalion. Soldiers were swarmed by reporters and angry locals when they tried to confiscate weapons in one scenario. The added element of the two groups to the mission was far more than hi S troops usually encounter during field training exercises at Fort Riley. "There is no substitute for being on the ground, but we had to dea I with not only the mission but with reporters from radio, television and newsp apers and local citizens, too," Lovejoy said. "This was right on targ et." While its hard to match the situation here, platoon sergeant Ron McInty re said the training at Fort Polk and at Fort Drum put them in the worst possib le situations in order to teach troops how to react quickly and thoughtfully. S o far, McIntyre, a staff sergeant, said he and his troops have yet to run into similar situations here, but they are always on guard. "We trained in the worst-case scenario," said McIntyre of B C ompany, 4th Battalion of the 31st Infantry Regiment from Fort Drum. "In on e situation, we had to call in gun ships to get the locals to cooperate. Here, they (the local people) ask us to have coffee with them and have been very help ful. It (the training) paid off for us. The most important thing is that the so Idiers have a better understanding." Maj. Melvin E. Hull, head of Camp Dobols operations center, said the re alistic training environment helped not only patrols but his staff, too. "We had civilians on the battlefield who are past residents of Bos nia," said Hull, who is from Fort Riley. "This allowed the soldiers t o work on the battlefield in a way we couldnt at home. They (the JRTC staff) pu t us under a great deal of stress and tracked how we performed in the situation S at the battalion level." Hull said the observers gave the battalion insight on what they needed to do to make the battalion work better. He said the extra rehearsal at Fort Po lk allowed the division to build a solid plan based on what it had learned. "We learned to determine what was important and was not as importa nt quickly," he said. "It helped us to learn how to prioritize the in formation." Hull and his staff receive reports from patrols during and after each m ission to help them manage the demands of the mission. He said prior training i S making the job here more manageable because soldiers know what to expect. First Sgt. Louis J. Angelucci said he sees another aspect to this brand of intensive peacekeeping training. He said his B Company, 4-31 Infantry troop S will be prepared for other peacekeeping missions and even combat. "They will never receive training like this at their units when th ey return home," he said. name="s19990928youcan.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928youcan.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> European Stars and Stripes September 26, 1999 Pg. 3 You Can Never Prepare Yourself Enough By Amee Puckett, Bosnia Bureau CAMP DOBOL, Bosnia and Herzegovina No amount of training can prepare y ou for what you see once you hit the ground, one sergeant says, but it can make the mission easier to do. "You cant train for the real world," said U.S. Army Sgt. 1<SU P>st Class Jay Kaczor, a platoon sergeant for the 105th Military Police C ompany from Buffalo, N.Y. "You can never prepare yourself enough." Kaczor, a member of the New York Army National Guard, trained for month S to prepare for the deployment to Bosnia, including learning about the country S terrain and its people. The sergeant trained with units from 10th Mountain Di vision (Light) of Fort Drum, N.Y., and the 1st Battalion of the 16th Regiment of Fort Riley, Kan., completing scenario-driven exercises, studying t he regions history and getting feedback from troops who were performing the mis sion. Kaczor said the training has given his soldiers, based out of Camp Dobo 1, an edge because they are more familiar with the area, but it was impossible to prepare his troops for one of their missions here. Besides working with the Quick Reaction Force, Kaczors troops have been escorting members of the Interna tional War Crimes Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia. The tribunal has been visiting grave sites to attempt to identity the r emains of people who were killed during the three-year war that ravaged this re gion. "Our soldiers had to see the remains," said Kaczor, who works at a prison for nonviolent offenders in Brocton, N.Y. "It will change the ir lives. Each person has to deal with these situations differently. So, we hav e to watch them and see how they are handling it. Theyll be fine, but it will t ake some time." The sergeant said his National Guard troops must also deal with the pro spect of being away from home for a long period. "For some of my younger soldiers, this is the first time they have been away from home," Kaczor said. "Its a rude awakening for them. T hey will grow up real quick." name="s19990928navy.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928navy.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Navy Times October 4, 1999 Pg. 20 Navy, Marines To Merge Two Brigs In Push To Consolidate Corr ections By John Burlage The Navy and Marine Corps have agreed to merge two East Coast brigs as the first move in what may become a series of consolidations. A Navy-run brig in Charleston, S.C., will assume responsibility for abo ut 20 male Marines typically imprisoned in a correctional facility at the Marin e Corps Recruit Depot on nearby Parris Island, S.C. The prisoners will be trans ferred to Charleston in January under an agreement to be signed by Navy and Mar ine officials Oct. 5, said Chuck Blazek, a Navy corrections specialist. Blazek said those prisoners will be confined with 150 to 165 male inmat es from the Navy, Air Force and Army already in the Charleston brig. At the same time, Blazek said, billets for 20 Marine correctional speci alists will be moved to Charleston to join a staff of about 130 Navy, Air Force and Army personnel. Blazek said the consolidation follows Pentagon guidelines for cutting f acilities that duplicate others close at hand with similar missions. Both Navy and Marine corrections specialists predicted more consolidations in the future. "We would hope" for more agreements within the next year or so, said Ch ief Warrant Officer James Adams, a Marine corrections specialist. Facilities may close As it now stands, about 650 military prisoners are in 11 Navy brigs worldwide. Some brigs are meant only for short-term confinement resulting from minor offenses, but others house prisoners convicted of much more serious crim es. The Marine Corps has seven confinement facilities in the U.S. and the Weste rn Pacific, which hold about 650 prisoners from several services for varying le ngths of time. Because the Navy has the biggest brigs, it's likely future consolidatio ns mean more Marine facilities would close. But the Marines aren't getting out of the corrections business, and will play an important role in operating brigs field for an entire career. Adams said the Marine corrections specialists go through the same basic skills training as their Navy counterparts at a Navy-run school at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas. But the Navy people often leave the field when they ret urn to sea, while the Marines get advanced training as they progress in their M ilitary Occupational Specialty. "We see that as a plus for us," said Blazek. The Marines will be able to train their counterparts in such skills as counseling, crisis negotiation, defense tactics and physical security. On the other hand, Blazek said, the bigger Navy operation offers more p risoner self-improvement programs, ranging from remedial education to vocationa I skills. The Navy's brig system even includes a special program for crime vict ims. <a name="s19990928audit.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928audit.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF=#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Norfolk Virginian-Pilot September 25, 1999 Pg. DI Navy Audit Service To Close Beach Office By Dave Mayfield, Staff Writer The Naval Audit Service plans to shut down an office in the city's Pem broke area by October 2004 as part of a nationwide reorganization of its operat ions. The closing of the office on Corporation Lane will affect 95 civilian employees, most of them accountants who scrutinize Navy and Marine Corps funds and programs for inefficiencies and financial errors. One of the auditors estim ated the average pay of the affected employees to be more than $45,000 a year. In a written response to questions, the Navy said the Virginia Beac h facility will be one of 19 Audit Service offices closed over the next several years as the agency consolidates its audit operations in the Washington area. The shutdowns will affect 58 employees at an office in San Diego, to b e closed by October 2004, plus a total of 127 at the 17 remaining offices, whic h are to be shuttered by September 2000. Most of the employees have contracts obligating them to move to the Wa shington area, but the Audit Service doesn't plan to take them all along. It ha S already requested the authority to offer financial incentives to as many as 6 2 of the affected employees at various offices to either resign or take early r etirement. The Navy said that after the consolidation is completed, the Audit Ser vice will have a total of 402 employees - 73 fewer than it has now. Christopher Hellman, a senior analyst with the Center for Defense Info rmation, a Washington-based watchdog group, said all of the military branches' audit arms are responding to congressional pressures to cut costs and operate m ore effectively. "They spend too much time shuffling paper back and forth," he said. "It's not just Navy, it's everywhere in DOD." The Army Audit Agency is also consolidating its operations in the Was hington area. And the Defense Finance and Accounting Service has drastically re duced its field operations, Hellman noted. "The question is: Do bookkeepers have to be on location in order to d o their work?" he said. "In my mind, they do not." Hellman said more and more information is becoming available to audito rs online, particularly those doing financial audits. He said there is no reaso n why auditors cannot travel from Washington to Norfolk to gather the remaining data they need for reports. The Navy said its Audit Service has moved away from auditing local com mands and programs, and now focuses almost exclusively on Navywide activities. The new approach has required audit personnel to spend more and more time in Wa shington, meeting with top-level Navy and Marine Corps officials and their staf fs, it noted. Because of that, having all the Audit Service employees based in Washi ngton is more efficient, it said. And with a larger pool of auditors at one pla ce, it will be easier to put together teams that can be dispatched to bases aro und the country as problems requiring audits arise, the Navy said. An auditor in the Virginia Beach office disputed the Navy's claims." How can you do this job if you're not near where the fleet actually is?" the a uditor said. "I think there are certainly some things we can do more efficient ly, but I don't think the answer is to move us all to Washington." The auditor, who asked not to be identified, said the agency often beg ins audits of programs, ranging from parts supply to facility maintenance, at H ampton Roads bases. "There's so much here that you can use it to build a stati stical base for the rest of the country," the auditor said. name="s19990928customs.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928customs.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Florida Times-Union (Jacksonville) September 27, 1999 Customs Planes At NAS Base to house anti-drug squadron By Matthew I. Pinzur, Times-Union staff writer Jacksonville Naval Air Station will receive a new squadron of anti-drug surveillance airplanes, boosting the government's assault on drug traffic and possibly giving the air base an extra layer of insurance against being shut dow n. The unit of eight P-3 Orions will be operated by the U.S. Customs Servi ce, which is scheduled to announce the plan today. "Jacksonville is an ideal location because it is already a P-3 master base where we can efficiently train our pilots and maintain our aircraft," sai d Commissioner of Customs Raymond W. Kelly. Modeled after a similar Customs squadron based in Corpus Christi, Texas , the planes are custom-designed with radar and other surveillance equipment to patrol drug traffic lanes in the Caribbean, officials said. The eight-plane unit in Texas, operating since 1987, has helped seize m ore than 250,000 pounds of cocaine and 160,000 pounds of marijuana, officials S aid. Because they are less politically threatening than their military count erparts, civilianoperated planes such as these are more readily welcomed to ope rate inside the borders of drug-source nations like Colombia, Peru and Ecuador, according to Bill Klein, legislative director for Rep. Tillie Fowler, R-Fla. "The First Coast's strategic location has long put it in the forefront of our national defense, including our defense against drug traffickers," sai d Sen. Bob Graham, D-Fla., who co-sponsored the legislation authorizing the new planes. "This deployment will help to stopdrug dealers from poisoning our com munities with their deadly substances." The first Customs plane is expected to arrive within six months, and th e full unit of eight planes should be in place by July 2002, said Customs spoke sman Bill Anthony. Fowler called the selection of Jacksonville "a real win-win situation, " citing the presence of four Navy P-3 squadrons at Jacksonville NAS, as well as the supplies and skills available at Naval Aviation Depot Jacksonville. "They're going to be in a position to take advantage of the Navy's exp ertise and support structure," Klein said. Though the new unit will create only about as many jobs as a small busi ness, Klein said it will help protect the air base and its economic impact on J acksonville, estimated at more than $1 billion each year. Politically, it becomes more difficult for members of the Base Realignm ent and Closure Commission to recommend shutting down the air station, because such a decision would severely disrupt the Customs Service, which is not part o f the Department of Defense. "There's never any guarantees in any of this, but one would hope that having a critical [non-military] national security mission would help pre clude the possibility of closure," Klein said. "I can't think of a downside, unless you're a drug trafficker." The unit of airplanes will be composed of two variations of the P-3: th e Dome and the Slick. The Dome, built specifically by Lockheed Martin for Customs anti-drug m issions, has a trademark rotating radar dome to detect, monitor and track targe ts in the air and on the water. It is usually paired with the more traditional Slick, which lacks the d ome but is outfitted with different surveillance equipment. <a name="s19990928mean.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928mean.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Insight Magazine October 18, 1999 Mean-Streets Marines Recruiting in the inner city is a challenge for the M arine Corps. But a few dedicated leathernecks are finding diamonds in the rough with ingenuity and clever marketing. By Sean Paige When Gunnery Sgt. Jesse Hoover ventures into what he calls "the killing fields," he carries neither a rifle nor a radio to call for help. And there's no greasepaint to camouflage the fact that he's a white man on a mission deep o nto turf where most are black. But Hoover isn't patrolling Haiti, Somalia or Sierra Leone. His bivouac is a storefront recruiting station in Baltimore, and his mission is to go out onto some of its meanest streets and bring back a few young men or women who ha ve the makings of U.S. Marines. Armed with nothing but his wits, a sales pitch based on the facts as he sees them and a gumption that impresses colleagues and street toughs alike, Hoover is one of a cadre of brother Marines who go recrui ting in what may qualify, short of combat, as the toughest job a leatherneck ca n have. At a time when the other services are struggling to meet their recruiti ng goals raising concern about a manpower crisis in the military and talk of a possible return to a draft - the Marines are bucking the trend using an app roach that emphasizes the hardships and challenges of military service and indi vidual recruiters as mentors and role models. With the Cold War over, the economy booming and unemployment at its low est level since the draft ended 26 years ago, a recruiting recession has struck America's all-volunteer fighting forces. Nationally, the proportion of 16-to 2 1-year-olds who enlist has decreased from 34 percent in 1991 to 27 percent toda y. The Army this year expects to fall 7,000 short of its recruiting goals; the Air Force is predicting a shortfall of 2,500. The Navy may meet its numbers -- but only because it is lowering entrance standards. The Marine Corps, by contra st, which signs about 40,000 recruits a year, has gone 50 months straight witho ut missing a recruiting goal and this year is on pace to exceed its benchmarks in both quantity and quality of recruits. If getting people into the armed services is becoming difficult even un der ideal circumstances, the impediments to recruiting Marines in Baltimore and other inner cities make the obstacle course at Parris Island, S.C., seem like a cakewalk. First, many who might want to join can't do so because even honor-r oll students from some city schools can't pass the Armed Services Vocational Ap titude Battery Test, the military's basic entrance exam. Many of the prospects haven't graduated from high school, another disqualifier for the Marines. By 16 or 17 years of age, a surprising number of city kids already have criminal con victions and/or a history of drug abuse, two more disqualifiers. Still others h ave illegitimate children, and the mothers of their kids must be persuaded to W aive child-support obligations for the three unpaid months a recruit is undergo ing training. And still others may have parents strung out on heroin or crack, making any consent they sign potentially problematic. Prospects are lost when phones frequently are disconnected. Addresses c hange day to day. One prospect falls down an elevator shaft; another gets caugh t in the crossfire of a gun battle on the street. About 95 percent of the kids recruiters encounter come from broken home S, explains Master Sgt. James A. Ruffin Jr., causing many recruiters to take on the role of surrogate father, mother, sister or brother. The recruiting office , open 7 a.m. to 9 p.m., becomes a second home for some. A recruiter's days are long and weekends are busy. Mothers or fathers frequently phone asking for hel p: The cops are looking for Johnny. Can you get Sally back in school? Ricky is running with the wrong crowd. A weight room on the premises --stocked by Ruffin with his own equipmen t helps keep the recruits off the streets and, hopefully, out of trouble. He re, much of the recruiters' routine seems to revolve around keeping their stabl e of potential or signed recruits out of harm's way until they can be shipped o ut ironically, into harm's way. "We teach them how to walk, talk, eat and r un otherwise they're not going to make it," says Ruffin, who spent his youth in the nearby McCollough Homes projects and now makes a specialty of liberatin g others from its debilitating, sometimes deadly, hold. Faced with these and other challenges, recruiters quietly are trying to get their message to an increasingly younger audience. "We've got to get them interested in the middle- and elementary-school level because, by the eighth gr ade, they're out of control," Ruffin tells Insight. "If we get them early enoug h, we can turn a lot of kids around. But we still lose far more than we can sav e." One of the station's recent recruits is 17-year-old Maurice Summers El, affectionately nicknamed "Beanie" because he wears a Muslim religious cap call ed a koofi. Summers El, who hails from the notoriously tough Greenmount Avenue neighborhood, has wanted to become a Marine since the ninth grade, when he saw a commercial of a man fighting with a sword. "If I was going to go for somethin g, might as well go all the way, go for the best," he says. "I want to be indep endent, see the world. I don't want to end up walking around the neighborhood a Il day long." Since he signed up for the delayed-entry program eight months ago, Summ ers El has become a daily fixture at the recruiting office. Like most other "po olies" who have signed a contract but may wait months before they are shipped t o Parris Island for 12 weeks of recruit training, Summers El also attends regul ar afternoon and weekend functions where delayed recruits are exercised, drille d, tutored and mentally and physically prepared for the rigors ahead. Even when they can be signed, most recruits become long-term projects and require extens ive preparation before they can be shipped off to basic training. "Our goal is not to ship them to boot camp; our goal is to graduate them from boot camp," sa ys Ruffin. "If they don't finish and come back here saying we failed to live up to our commitments, it hurts us." "These guys are like my big brothers; they keep me out of trouble and h elped me out when no one else would," Summers El says of Marines in the office. But the path Beanie has taken to Parris Island has been long and winding. As a fundamentalist Muslim, for instance, Beanie's mother isn't permitted to speak with men, so all the dialogue between recruiter and family had to be done throu gh intermediaries. But Hoover persisted despite the obstacles and, come the fol lowing Monday, Summers El and seven or eight fellow poolies will be collected, processed and flown off to basic training. And if Beanie makes it, he'll be bac k before Christmas for several weeks as an assistant recruiter and a walking ad vertisement to other kids that getting out is possible. But most will never make it. Within sight of the Marines' recruiting st ation is a crack house, and recently a dealer was arrested in the strip mall's parking lot. By Saturday he was back on the street, selling in broad daylight. Only blocks away, however, things go from bad to unbelievable. It's mid day, but no kids seem to be in school and the chronically jobless lounge in clu sters on the front stoops of ransacked rowhouses, eyeing intruders long and har d. Emaciated crack addicts wander in a trance; a prostitute, obviously strung o ut, shakes her groove thing to the music in her head; cash openly gets swapped for pot and rock cocaine; a boy, startled by the presence of outsiders, fumbles with a "blunt" the hollowed shell of a cigar packed with marijuana. And Bea nie, who knows local dealers don't look kindly on intrusions by "the man," invi ted or not, only reluctantly brings this reporter to the heavily bolted, blacke d-out storefront he'll call home for only a few days more. Summers El admits having once run with a bad crowd at Baltimore's North ern High School. But eventually, thanks to the firm hand of his mother, an unde rstanding principal at the school and the mentoring of his big-brother Marines, he began to tire of the bad reputation he once cultivated. Through his example , Summers El now hopes that other neighborhood kids will "see somebody that's g oing to make something of himself, not somebody who's going to end up on the st reet corner." Marines say that because of kids like Beanie, they continue to recruit at Northern and other inner-city high schools in spite of low productivity and the long odds. And many, having once escaped similar circumstances themselves, consider it a public service to communities from which they came. Gunnery Sgt. Tony Lucear says of the few kids his station does manage to save from the stree ts, "If they can survive living on the street here, they can survive Parris Isl and - it's all about having the right mind-set." Lucear himself escaped from a rough area of Atlanta. "I just wanted to get away from the city," he says of h is own decision to join the Marines. "I heard it was the toughest branch there is, so I wanted to find out for myself." Perhaps the station's most productive recruiter, however, is neither bl ack nor a product of the inner city. He's white Gunnery Sgt. Jesse Hoover from rural southern Illinois, who's been stationed in Baltimore for 14 months. After tutoring from black colleagues on some of the do's and don'ts of street cultur e because kids from different neighborhoods often have their own style and n omenclature -- Hoover plunged in, becoming one of the most successful recruiter S on sheer nerve and bottom-line salesmanship. But Hoover has at least one thing in common with the kids he recruits. "I grew up dirt poor," he says, "so I didn't have to learn anything in that res pect about the neighborhoods I go in. "It's just like combat," Hoover says of recruiting in the city. "As lon g as you don't give the appearance that you're scared, you don't have any probl ems. What I've found is that unless they think I might be a cop, almost anybody will shake my hand and talk to me. Except for the rich white people; the rich white people turn up their nose at me." Just as Hoover receives a cool reception from some whites, being black doesn't necessarily guarantee a recruiter a warmer reception even on his or her old stomping ground, according to Ruffin. Recognizing the fact that white recr uiters often fare better in predominantly black neighborhoods than their black colleagues, Ruffin specifically requested that a white recruiter (who turned ou t to be Hoover) be assigned to his Baltimore office. Black recruiters sometimes get flack from other blacks for serving in "a white man's army," Ruffin tells Insight. "You think you all that, but we know where you come from, homeboy," is the attitude many black recruiters encounter, he says. But race often seems to Hoover less of a barrier to accomplishing his m ission than closed-mindedness and popular misconceptions about the military, wh ich he counters by arguing what he calls "the facts." To those parents who fear that military enlistment is a death sentence for their son or daughter, for in stance, Hoover points to the impressive casualty lists annually compiled on the killing fields of Baltimore City. "What we're selling," says Hoover, "is a lifestyle on which you can bui Id the foundation of a better life; that if you take what we teach you, your po tential is unlimited." Recruiters enforce that message by playing for prospects a tape, Famous Former Marines, presenting an honor roll of leathernecks who we nt on to prominence as politicians, chief executive officers, writers and enter tainers. As it turns out, even Bob Kieshen - better known as Capt. Kangaroo was a U.S. Marine. Sometimes these Marine recruiters also must overcome the prejudices of school administrators who either believe that military service is beneath the d ignity of their students or are former Vietnam-era peaceniks who never shook th eir hostility toward the military. Hoover tells Insight of a recent visit to on e of the area's better schools, during which he was treated rudely by the princ ipal and later overheard the man warning school security guards to "keep a clos e eye on the Marines." Not all high schools are hostile, however, and Insight visited two in t he Washington area where the recruiters were welcomed. The bigger problem is th at as few as 10 percent of the students at some nearby schools can pass the ent rance exam. So recruiters in the Baltimore office say they find only about half of the 42 schools in their area workable. This isn't to say those schools will be surrendered - these are Marine S, after all. "We'll go to any school where we think even one recruit can be fo und; we're not just going to quit because it's tough," says Gunnery Sgt. Richar d Babb, who makes a specialty of recruiting kids out of the inner city. "You're looking for that needle in a haystack," says Babb, patrolling the graffiti-cov ered hallways of Washington's Roosevelt High School. "But that's our job." Babb insists that not even the meanest of the city's streets are surren dered by the Marines. "We've heard it before, people saying we shouldn't be goi ng here or there after dark," Babb laughs. "But not us. If there's someone out there who wants to join the Corps, we're going to go get them." And some Marine recruiters say the biggest hurdle they face isn't race or poverty or gangs or guns, but a creeping aversion to hardship and sacrifice that's softening the nation they are pledged to defend. "Our country is always striving to take the easy way out; our country is all about convenience," says Staff Sgt. Alex Smith, another mean-streets Marine who recruits in and around t he nation's capital. "But the Marine Corps is not about taking the easy way, an d the Marine Corps is not convenient." Not convenient, that is, until the shells begin to whine. Marketing the Marine Mystique The personal challenge that Marine recruiters deliver to kids on an individual basis also is being delivered to American youth en masse by a Marin e advertising campaign that emphasizes personal sacrifice and metamorphosis ins tead of education, health and other military benefits. Holding that up as the r ight approach is Indiana Republican Rep. Steve Buyer, chairman of the House Arm ed Services subcommittee on Military Personnel, who argues that the military do es itself and its enlistees a disservice when it emphasizes the material benefi ts of military service instead of duty, honor and country. A Persian Gulf War V eteran, Buyer recently told National Journal that during Operation Desert Storm he tired of hearing "bellyaching from pantywaists who said, "The only reason I joined the military was to go to college. I didn't join the military to get sh ot at." Buyer is one member of Congress who says that if the military-manpower shortage drags on while its commitment to peacekeeping operations continues to grow, it may be necessary to reinstitute the draft. "This is truly alarming," B uyer recently said, "given the future uncertainty of military manpower as a res ult of the services' recruiting and retention problems." A bill abolishing selective service recently passed in the House, howev er, suggesting that there is little political appetite for reviving the draft. Most members of Congress instead seem to see the solution in better marketing o f the services - and better pay, benefits and bonuses for servicemen and women A military-appropriations bill now before Congress contains increased funding for advertising, recruiting and bonuses to entice recruits as well as a 4.8 pe rcent pay increase and new retirement-savings plan for those already in the ser vice. This is good, say some observers, but it should not be a substitute for appealing to young Americans' sense of patriotism, pride of service and person al responsibility. "You can throw a lot of money at it," a retired Army general recently told a Texas newspaper, "but the most important thing you need to thr ow is prestige. You have to make it a prestigious, honorable, respectful pursui t." Which is exactly what the Marines are doing. While other service Websit es may entice you with a colorful bouquet of benefits, the Marines offer a virt ual training exercise, complete with an animated drill sergeant who dishes out virtual pushups for recruit screw-ups. "We decided to go 180 degrees away from what everybody else is doing," retired Marine commandant Charles C. Krulak has said of the Marine approach to marketing. The ads Krulak approved sent a typically straight-shooting message: "If you want to be challenged physically, mentally and morally, join the Marine S. You will be changed, and the change will be forever." Recruit surveys show that 95 percent of the young men or women who choo se the Marines do so for the "intangibles" the character-building aspects an d prestige of becoming a Marine rather than career or educational benefits. Indeed, recruits Insight interviewed in Baltimore and Washington all said they chose the Corps based on the Marine mystique -- its reputation as a tough, elit e branch of the armed services. "I feel like the Marines are the hardest," said 18-year-old Samuel Port er of Baltimore, who hopes a start in the Corps will lead to a career in signal S intelligence. "If I were to take the easy path, I would feel that I haven't a ccomplished anything." "It's something I need to do to fulfill me; there isn't anything else t o do around here," adds 17-year-old James Malloy, who chose the Marines in part because "they don't sugarcoat nothing." Some of Malloy's friends back in blue- collar Dundalk, Md., question his decision, he says, "But I'll come back a Mari ne and they'll still be working at Burger King." Recruits also told us they like the uniform, the no-bull bearing and co ntagious gung-ho attitude of the recruiters and some seem to yearn for the S pecial sense of camaraderie that seems to bind members of the Corps active d uty, reserve status or retired. Anyone spending even a few hours with recruiter S in Baltimore or Washington can see that bond in practice. Drivers of other ve hicles, when they see the recruiting van, sometimes honk, wave or roll down the windows to say hello. Other former Marines including what seems a dispropor tionate share of the local cops regularly drop in on the recruiting stations to chat. Old-timers sometimes come by to recount war stories. And Marines who own local businesses will call, offering work opportunities for recruits awaiti ng induction, whom they know will be responsible and drug-free. The Corps' distinctive, metaphor-heavy advertising campaigns run in thr ee-year cycles, featuring TV spots especially designed to resonate with teens. These campaigns tell the whole story. The "Swords" advertising campaign of 1984 launched the new era, showcas ing the starched Marine dress-blues uniform and bearing. In 1987 came the "Knig ht" commercials, celebrating gallantry and courage. And in 1991 came "Chess Gam e," part of a continuing campaign to present the Marines as the cerebral servic e. In 1995 the Marines rolled out their "Transformation" commercials, using the dungeons-and-dragons motif to convey the life-altering impact of recruit train ing. Last fall the Marines premiered "Rite of Passage," another slickly prod uced paean to character-building. More than just a marketing ploy, "Rite of Pas sage" also relays to potential recruits an underlying reality: Making it as a M arine, while always tough, has just gotten tougher. While other services have b een accused by some of watering down basic training including the issuance t o recruits of "stress cards" in case they can't take it anymore the Marines have bucked that trend, too, with the creation of "The Crucible," an additional week of recruit training that completes the Marine's remolding through 56 hour S of hunger, sleeplessness and the surmounting of obstacles impossible to conqu er without teamwork and grace under pressure. Whereas the "Transformation" ads culminated in a battle between the rec ruit and a 10-foot "Guardian," in "Rite of Passage" the recruit must use his SW ord to vanquish an even more formidable foe, the 40-foot "Fire Monster." The mo nster is a stylized representation of the recruits' own fear, according to Jay Cronin, the Marine Corps account supervisor at the J. Walter Thompson advertisi ng company. His company has had the Marine Corps advertising account for more t han 50 years, according to Cronin, but about 15 years ago "began using metaphor S and icons to communicate the greatness of what the Marine Corps gives young p eople. "In the midst of a recruiting recession, what we wanted to do was raise the price of admission and create a premium brand," Cronin says of the latest campaign. To get the message right, the ad agency, though no stranger to the Ma rine Corps history or ethos, sent its creative team to observe recruit training at Parris Island, S.C., carefully analyze youth surveys and conduct extensive testing of themes and images with focus groups around the country. The new spot consists of a stylized series of obstacles the recruit mus t overcome, explains Cronin. When he gets to the top of the moving mountain, he sees in the sword the reflection of his future self as a Marine before engagin g in the climactic battle. "The Fire Monster is meant to represent for a recrui t the fear and doubt they may have in themselves," explains Cronin. "And when h e slays these fears and doubts, he becomes a Marine." What the Marines' own youth survey shows is that young Americans want t o be challenged and tested, according to Capt. Jeff Sammons, a spokesman for Ma rine Corps Recruiting Command. "They want to be held to a higher standard," Sam mons tells Insight. "They don't mind the opportunity to follow, but they want t he opportunity to lead." "You'll never see one of our ads talking about college tuition, job tra ining or anything other than what it means to take the challenge," says Sammons "We don't entice people to join because of the benefits; we entice them with the challenge of being a Marine. Our commercials are metaphors for recruit trai ning - they say, 'You're going to have challenges put in front of you and you' Il have to overcome them." Other attempts to reach the key demographic group i nclude the Corps' sponsorship of extreme-sports Olympiads such as the X Games a nd Gravity Games as well as the formation of the Team Marine NASCAR racing team There are signs that other branches of the services, spurred by the man power crunch, may be taking note of the Marines' way of recruiting. The Army, W hich is having its worst recruiting year since 1979, reportedly is thinking of ditching its venerable - some say stale "Be All That You Can Be" slogan in favor of something even more challenging. And it may take another chapter from the Marine Corps recruiting handbook by allowing new soldiers, fresh out of boo t camp, to return to their home turf to do short-term duty as a recruiter's ass istant. name="s19990928direction.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928direction.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Marine Corps Times October 4, 1999 Pg. 12 A New Direction Where Will Today's Generals Steer The Corps? By C. Mark Brinkley QUANTICO, Va. -- Col. Mike Swords holds one possible future of the Mari ne Corps on a compact disk filled with secrets few Marines have even heard, muc h less discussed. The idea of adding two infantry battalions to the Fleet Marine Force is on the disk, along with recommendations to add two aviation squadrons and two artillery batteries. The disk contains the results of the Force Structure Planning Group: 87 recommendations for the Corps' future structure, justified in hundreds of type written pages, separated into five three-ring binders and reduced to one easy-t o-use format. Until the Marine Corps' generals decide that the future outlined in the report is the direction in which the Corps is headed, however, Marine official S are reluctant to release the recommendations in their entirety. A debate on the report kicks off Sept. 27 at the General Officers' Symp osium in Washington, D.C., but final decisions won't be made until the Corps' t hree-star generals have a private meeting with Marine Commandant Gen. James L. Jones during the first week of October. The generals' goal is to shape the Corps to fit its "Operational Maneuv er From The Sea" concept by the end of the next decade. The centerpiece of the Corps' plans for 21st century warfare, the conce pt enables Marine units to push deep inland across a beach without stopping at the water's edge, using a combination of technology and streamlined logistics t o attain this goal. Marine Corps Times has compiled a list of recommendation highlights to be discussed at the General Officers' Symposium. Not all the ideas are popular, and most are guaranteed to raise an eyeb row. Beefing up the FSSG The most contentious recommendation is likely to be the "Combat Ser vice Support Migration Plan," an idea so touchy that one entire binder -- and a significant portion of Swords' disk -- is dedicated to explaining it. The plan centers on moving all the Marine Corps' engineering and suppor t functions, including combat engineering battalions and wing support squadrons , to the force service support groups to streamline logistics. The idea has its detractors. "Aviation sees it as the 'Aviation CSS Migration Plan,' but they are se eing it from their perspective," said Swords, director of the Total Force Struc ture Division of Marine Corps Combat Development Command in Quantico, Va. "It i nvolves all elements of the [Marine Air Ground Task Force] to include the suppo rting establishment" which includes combat service support assets at the bas e and station level. The planning group determined that the current combat service support S tructure is fine for today's missions, but will not support the Operational Man euver From The Sea concept because of redundancies. "We have a truck company in the division, and we have a combat engineer battalion in the division," Swords said. "But the combat engineer battalion ha S grown so that it's got equipment other than it needs to do its real combat en gineer mission." The same is true at artillery regiments, which have a significant amoun t of engineering equipment, Swords said. Even the wing support squadrons, which have equipment for the airfield operation missions unique to their profession, have a significant amount of com bat service support equipment. "If you can afford to have all that, that's fine," Swords said. "You al most have a case of 'just in case' organization. Just in case I need it, I've g ot it." But moving to the Operational Maneuver From The Sea concept will requir e logistics to be even more focused than it is now, Swords said, and the Marine Corps will be able to take only the necessary equipment ashore. "It makes sense to pull all this stuff back into a central repository i n the FSSG and let the FSSG tactically tailor it," Swords said. To do that "tactical tailoring," an FSSG Marine would act as a liaison for the various affected units. B End-strength increase Former Commandant Gen. Charles C. Krulak was the first to discuss a n important planning group recommendation. In June, he declared that preliminary group discussions showed that the bottom line is we're about 5,000 people short. We should be at 177,000, not 172,800." Marine officials confirmed that the report recommends adding about 5,00 0 Marines to the Corps' manpower figures. Subsequently, planners want to create about 5,000 new billets, or "boat spaces," and eliminate about 4,300 slots that planners feel are no longer neces sary. "I'll bet you I can get everyone to sign up for the 'puts," said Sword S, referring to the additions. "But the [reductions] are another story," added Swords, who prepared in formation for the generals' symposium and worked with the planning group. The increase in end strength is expected to man each military occupatio nal specialty to about 90 percent, Swords said. Some of the cuts recommended are already in the final approval stages. In August, Jones announced that nearly 600 jobs being filled by Marines working out of their military occupational specialties are being turned over to civili an workers, allowing the Marines to return to their units. Another 600 jobs held by Marine cooks at stateside mess halls are also being transformed into civilian jobs. The cook jobs are being eliminated, but t he actual boatspaces are being handed to the fleet units for a variety of occup ational specialties. "You could free up about a battalion's worth of Marines if you move in that direction," Swords said. More trigger pullers Those billets could go toward adding two infantry battalions, two a rtillery batteries, and two aviation squadrons to the fleet. The location for the new infantry battalions has not been decided, Mari ne officials said, and good arguments have made for a variety of locations. The decision will be left to the general officers. The artillery batter ies would likely be located at the same bases as the new infantry units.. The aviation squadrons are designed to make the transition to several n ew aircraft platforms less stressful on the Marine Corps. The Corps now is moving to the MV-22 Osprey, and the Joint Strike Fight er, the upgraded AH-1W Cobras and UH-IN Hueys are on the horizon. "[The aviation structure is] really designed for steady status, not tra nsition," Swords said. "So, making the jump will be difficult." The transition will be challenging because the Marines must fill a void left behind by pilots who are learning a new platform. CH-46 Sea Knight pilots , for instance, will begin training on the new Osprey soon, but they will not d eploy with the first Marine Expeditionary Unit until 2001. Once the Osprey and helicopter squadrons are in place, the transition squadrons could be shifted fr om rotary-wing to fixed-wing outfits. "If the aviation community takes [transition squadrons] out of their ow n hide, it really hurts operational readiness," Swords said. The planning group also made recommendations to increase the aviation c ommunity's manpower figures. Planners suggested, for example, adding about 300 Marines for aircraft corrosion prevention and control. Swords said the corrosion-control capability was lost during a melding of occupational specialties years ago, leading to more corrosion-repair program S at the aviation depots. "We've got to fix that," Swords said. "The answer of letting airplanes corrode is not a good answer." The planning group also recommended more Marines for carrier squadrons, which, Swords said, require about 80 more Marines than squadrons ashore. Other beneficial moves Another asset currently being "taken out of hide" is the 2nd Marine Division's Small Craft Company, the only unit of its kind in the Marine Corps. The company was formed from existing manpower levels, Swords said, but the planning group recommended adding the necessary boatspaces to the division so that the company can be manned without robbing the division of Marines. "It's a capability we ought to have, but we ought to pay a price for it Swords said. Another area in which the the 2nd Marine Division stands to gain "trigg er pullers" was not discussed by the force structure planning group, but has Jo nes' endorsement. Jones advocates moving the Chemical/Biological Incident Response Force from Camp Lejeune, N.C., to the Marine barracks in Washington, D.C. The move wo uld allow the Marines in the force's security element to return to the division Infantry Marines from the barracks would then be tasked with providing security for the CBIRF Marines should they be called on for a mission. The planning group also recommended changing the method by which milita ry policemen are assigned to bases and stations. The group recommended creating two full MP battalions in the United States and a smaller battalion in Okinawa , Japan. All the Corps' MPs would then be assigned to one of the three battalion S. The MP battalions would fall under the command and be assigned by the M EF commanders, meaning that instead of being permanently assigned to a specific base, MP detachments would be sent to the various bases and stations under the MEF commanders' responsbility. Jones has also discussed reconstituting, in some form, Marine expeditio nary brigades, which were eliminated from the Marine Corps after the Gulf War. Reserve forces also stand to gain Marines Planners supported adding a t hird company of amphibious-assault vehicles to the reserve 4th Marine Division. Additionally, the planning group recommended creating a Nuclear, Chemical and Biological Defense battalion within the reserves, to help with the focus of hom eland defense. Jones also has discussed pairing a reserve rifle company to each active -duty Marine battalion, so that battalion commanders will have four maneuver el ements instead of three during times of war. The plan will be discussed at the symposium. Pondering the changes The tough job for the generals will be to keep the Corps' future go als in mind when making decisions. Although some recommended cuts represent a drastically new way of doing business, a fear of change will be counterproductive to what the Corps hopes t o accomplish. And every recommendation the generals accept will be given its own work ing group, where the bugs will be ironed out. "I will defend any of these recommendations. None of them are stupid. T here are some that honorable people can disagree with," Swords said. The goal is to have all of the changes in place by 2005, Marine officia Is said. "The Marine Corps would be able to tread water and do very well, and at the end of it we'd be a better Marine Corps. I think the people who came up wi th these put a lot of thought into it." name="s19990928another.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928another.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Marine Corps Times October 4, 1999 Pg. 13 Another Topic: Bringing 2 Worlds Together By C. Mark Brinkley Besides debating the shape of the Corps of tomorrow, the general office rs will have more immediate subjects to tackle during the General Officers' Sym posium. "I intend to listen for a week. And then, two weeks later, the sort of philosophical tree that the [commandant's guidance] was, is going to have a lot of fruit on it," said Marine Commandant Gen. James L. Jones. "And that will ch art the path for the next three and a half years." Included in the discussion will be the results of August's Sergeants Ma jor Symposium, an annual gathering of the Corps' top enlisted leaders. "I'm excited about some of the things they talked about," Jones said." I'm excited about some of their own internal reforms in terms of how they are a ssigned. And how they treat themselves as a community, how we can bring the ser geants major and the master gunnery sergeant communities together." "They're two different worlds, but they are both E-9s, and there are a lot of things they should be able to do together," Jones said. Professional military education is another hot topic the generals will embrace not just the importance of PME, but also the method by which school seats are assigned and the importance resident schools are given over non-resid ent schools. The command screening program will be discussed at length, as the gener als determine the best way to select future commanders. The screening program is designed to determine and select the Corps' co mmanders, both in and out of the Fleet Marine Force. Jones suspended the annual board in July, however, until the subject could be reviewed by the generals. "I'm not prejudging," Jones said of the current screening process, crea ted in 1991. "But I think it's time to take a look at it and ask people what th ey think." The new performance evaluation system, which Marines began using in Jan uary, also will be on the discussion list. "I'm asking questions about it," Jones said, citing numerous complaints from the fleet regarding the new system. name="s19990928reserve.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928reserve.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Navy Times October 4, 1999 Pg. 22 'Reserve' Carrier Kennedy Headed Back To Active Fleet By David Brown The Navy's experiment with a Reserve aircraft carrier appears to be nea ring an end. Rear Adm. John Totushek, chief of Naval Reserve, said that plans are in the works to redesignate the 31-year-old carrier John F. Kennedy back to the a ctive-duty fleet by 2001. "It wasn't fair to the ship," Totushek said in a recent interview. "Onc e the ship became regularly deployable, it was really hard for us to get the nu mbers and kinds of people they needed on an ongoing basis." Five years ago, the Navy designated the carrier as "operational reserve meaning she would perform one six-month deployment and spend the rest of the time as a training carrier. But by 1996, hostilities in the Persian Gulf forced the Kennedy back in to regular deployment rotation. She maintained an 80 percent active-duty crew, with the remaining 20 percent made up of drilling and full-time reservists. The set-up offered an excellent opportunity for drilling reservists to hang up their civilian attire and join the crew for a year. But when the time c ame to begin the six-month training cycle before the six-month deployment earli er this year, the carrier was short 160 enlisted, non-air wing sailors. Now, the Kennedy battle group is under way on another deployment, heade d for the Persian Gulf with enough crew members to get the job done-- roughly 9 0 percent of the 2,626 enlisted billets are filled. However, the Navy had to re assign active-duty sailors to fill those 160 reserve billets. "We're in OK shape," Capt. Michael Wanjon, the Kennedy's executive offi cer, said in July. "We have all our range, but we're short on depth." And Totushek pointed out that, when the cruise is over in six months, t he Kennedy loses those reservists. "They [the Kennedy crew] are trying to do the kinds of things they need to do in port with 10 percent less people than on other carriers," he said. Besides manning issues, Totushek said the Naval Reserve was having trou bles keeping up with unexpected maintenance. Any unplanned equipment or mainten ance problems had to be paid for by the Reserve account, which zaps funds for o ther Reserve ships. "We agreed this was the right way to do business," he said. If the plan goes through, it won't mean a windfall for the reserves. Mo ney set aside for the Naval Reserve Kennedy budget will be transferred to the a ctive-duty side, Totushek said. The Kennedy's manning, therefore, would likely mirror the 90 percent ac tive-duty and 10 percent reservist ratio of the other carriers, said Lt. Amy De rrick, a Navy spokeswoman. "Additionally, shifting JFK from reserve to active status will allow fo r more flexibility not only within the operational schedule, but training and m aintenance as well," she said. The plan has to survive the budget process before going through, Totush ek said. He added that opportunities for reservists won't shrivel, since all 12 of the Navy's carriers offer spots for reservists. "There will be no effect on opportunities," he said. name="s19990928guide.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928guide.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Cleveland Plain Dealer September 26, 1999 Pg. 1G A Peacekeeper's Guide To Kosovo Some Tips For Area Reservists Going On Duty By Terence Sheridan GNJILANE, Kosovo-- To members of Parma's 2nd Psychological Operations Group, U.S. Army Reserves Command, who will be based here as NATO peacekeepers beginning in October: Welcome to Kosovo. GNEE-LAN-AY. It's in the southeast corner of Serbia's Connecticut-siz ed southern province of Kosovo, north of the Macedonian border and west of Serb ia proper, the dominant republic of Yugoslavia. You can't miss your sector. Whe n you arrive, something will probably be burning. About 25 years ago, a British tourist, a perceptive woman, wrote this about Serbia: "It is a country where you set out to see the sights and end by seeing history." As part of the mulitnational Kosovo Force in one small sector of the province, you won't be seeing many of the tourist sights, but you will be makin g history. In their zeal to establish stability in an unstable region, NATO bras S unfortunately made it sound as though we, the Americans, with a little help f rom our friends, could, metaphorically speaking, create a multiethnic Balkan de mocracy in our image in six days, resting on the seventh. But your brief is more modest: Keep the peace and guard your backs. The Serbs, defeated by NATO's high-tech Operation Allied Force, will resent you. And the ethnic Albanians, the people NATO came to save from the Ser bs, more often than not will act sullen and belligerent, as if you stiffed on a bet and owe them money - even as you help them achieve independence on the way to possible statehood. History Just north of you, in the British sector, is a place called Kosov o Polje. In 1389, an outnumbered Serbian army - along with Christian Albanians, Croats and Hungarians - narrowly lost a watershed battle to the Ottoman Turks, ending 200 years of Serbian rule and ushering in 500 years of Turkish hegemony Astonishingly, Serbs haven't forgotten the first Battle of Kosovo, or that ethnic Albanians later did dirty work for the Turks, which included burni ng villages, raping women, cutting off ears, pulling out tongues and tossing ba bies into the air and catching them on the points of knives. Later still, Albanians did dirty work for the Nazis, although some Al banians were antifascist Partisans. But Serbs tend to remember only bad things about Albanians. Rule of thumb in this dark neck of the woods: Genocide and ethnic cle ansing are what is being done to you, not what you do to someone else. Selective memory, malevolently nudged, leads inexorably to thoughts o f revenge - - stomach-turning payback for what may have happened 500 years ago or yesterday. During the brotherhood-and-unity era of the Communists, the Albania n majority harassed the Serbian minority, which repressed the majority, dependi ng on who had the upper hand at a given time. After the fall of Communism came the blood-and-steel nationalism of S lobodan Milosevic, when a day not spent driving Albanians from their homes was considered a day wasted by Serbian security forces. And payback is what it's called today when Albanians slice up a 74-ye ar-old Serbian man before mercifully shooting him in the head, or savagely beat a 65-year-old Serbian woman, then drown her in a bathtub, after taking away he r cane. All over Kosovo there are mass graves. Most of them are Albanian. But some recent ones are Serbian. Some of the graves are in your sector. Tie a yel low police ribbon around your sector. It's a crime scene, as is the rest of Kos ovo. Strangely enough, though, Americans, Serbs and Albanians sound remark ably alike on the question of revenge. In August, Capt. Larry Kaminski, spokesman for U.S. forces in Gnjilan e, said, "If the victims were civilians killed by an armed party, the killings would constitute a war crime. Revenge killings or straight criminal acts would not be prosecuted as war crimes." Now listen to two of my acquaintances, an Albanian and a Serb, on rev enge. The Albanian, a 28-year-old foot soldier with the Kosovo Liberation A rmy, the rebel separatists: "I personally don't believe in killing old people a nd children. But I can understand why some Albanians are doing it. The Serbs di d it to us. My big fear is that Albanians will fight over Serbian property. Thi S could lead to clan blood feuds and it's no way to build a nation." The Serb, a 31-year-old member of a tank unit that took everything NA TO handed out in the western borderlands for 78 days: "We didn't do anything to the Albanians that they didn't do to us every time they got a chance," adding, "We will be back. If it takes 50 years, we will be back. Kosovo belongs to us. " Before his unit left Kosovo - "with their tails up and their flags fly ing," as a British officer put it - the Serb and his comrades wrote large on vi llage walls: "WE WILL BE BACK!" People Everyone plays a numbers game. Try not to get a headache. Before the shooting war began between Serbian forces and Albanian rebels in February 1 998, the Albanians said they made up more than 90 percent of a population of 2 million. But they have also said that a million of them fled Serbian repression Presumably all their refugees have now returned, plus a few ringers, for the current numbers are right back up there, more than 90 percent of 2 mill ion. Not long ago the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees said 1 70,000 Serbs had fled the province, but after that the interim provincial admin istrator, a Frenchman, insisted that half of Kosovo's 200,000 Serbs are still i n place. After all, it's a bit difficult to call a Serbian province without Ser bs a multiethnic community. More about numbers: Before KFOR arrived in June, the North Atlantic T reaty Organization claimed that the Serbs killed 100,000 ethnic Albanians and b uried them in mass graves. After peacekeepers arrived, the number was reduced t o 10,000. Since then, there have been no formal announcements. What's for sure is that during your tour of duty nationalist Albanian S will continue driving Serbs, Gypsies, and Slav Muslims out of Kosovo as fast as they can, and there won't be much 40,000 or so KFOR troops can do about it. The Frenchman mentioned something about herding the Serbs into concen trated areas. Safe havens, so to speak. Sound familiar? But maybe it will work. There about 3,000 Serbs living like mice in Gnjilane, more in the scorched cou ntryside. Sights There are pretty villages and not-so-pretty villages, but most of the towns, including Gnjilane, are uniformly drab - - concrete cubes with doors and windows clustered around a dreary main drag featuring "Disko Klubs," "Bifte k" restaurants, "Mini-Markets" and dingy cafes called "kafane." Once there were rich gold and silver mines in your sector, in Novo Br do, mines that bankrolled a medieval Serbian empire and that were the envy of E uropean kings and queens. Nowadays your sector is dirt poor, the poorest area in Serbia. Most o f the men, Serbs and Albanians, were guest workers in other parts of Europe. Yo u can readily tell who they are. They have the biggest houses and best tractors The farms are tiny: irregular-shaped plots of land bounded by trees a nd dotted with conical haystacks. By late summer most of the hay was cut but wh ere it wasn't poppies grew tall in the high grass, looking like scarlet ribbons in long blond hair. The houses are brick and mortar and painted white, the terra cotta roo fs are red, the smoke pouring out of windows and doors is white or gray or blac k. The blood is always red, unless time has elapsed, then it's rust-brown or th e color of cranberry juice. You will see many cars and trucks without license plates. They used t o belong to Serbs. They now belong to Albanians. Spoils of war. It's a Balkan t radition. Folkways It is a good idea to learn a few simple phrases in Serbian and Al banian, such as "Hello," Goodbye," "thank you," and "Lean against the wall and spread your legs." Serbo-Croatian is a difficult language, and Albanian more so, especia Ily for folks who speak only Ohioan. Take the Serbian word "gore." It can mean "up," "woods," or "burning," depending on accent and context. Hence, "Gore gore gore": "Up there the woods are burning." And there is the ever-popular "Oko za oko," easy to say and easy to i mplement - "An eye for an eye." Nonetheless, I know you will be firm but fair with both sides. The yo unger Albanians and Serbs are well versed in pop music. Get their attention by talking about Ricky Martin, Jennifer Lopez or Lou Bega. Bring a cassette and ma ke a friend. Maybe he, or she, won't throw a brick or bottle at you. B Entertainment Unlike the French with their wine and the Russians with their vod ka, it will be a dry tour of duty for you. But if you get the opportunity, try to get to Prizren, the prettiest town in Kosovo and once the seat of Serbian ki ngs and Turkish pashas. It's in the German sector, midway between the Albanian and Macedonian borders. The drive through the mountains is worth the trip. It's along the hig h spine of spellbinding mountains between Kosovo and Macedonia, before descendi ng to the lovely Bistrica river gorge at Prizen. Camp out in the mountains if you can. There are trout in the streams, so bring a backpack rod. If you are a fly fisher I could suggest killer flies but I'd probably be wrong. Besides, if they're biting, they're biting. Finally, keep an eye out for unexploded NATO cluster bombs in the boo ndocks, and good luck in Balkan nation building. name="s19990928anthrax.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928anthrax.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Hartford Courant September 24, 1999 Pg. 10 Anthrax Shots Put On Hold At Base Power Failure During Storm Spells Reprieve For Milita ry Personnel In Newburgh, N.Y., Unit Who Had Been Scheduled To Be Given The Con troversial Vaccinations. By Thomas D. Williams, Courant Staff Writer Hurricane Floyd was a hazard to thousands on the East Coast, but it was a relief for many of the 600 members of the Air National Guard in Newburgh, N.Y. , who were scheduled to take anthrax shots. The storm knocked out power to the refrigerator in which the vaccines we re stored, causing officials to decide not to use them. Unit members such as Tech. Sgt. William Mangieri who oppose the mandator y vaccine program were thrilled. "The anxiety level at the base was so high that people said they felt ph ysically weak after the announcement," Mangieri said. He added that his outspok en opposition to the inoculations resulted in his not being recommended for re- enlistment. "You know how when you anticipate something bad, you get a little fear i n you, and when it doesn't happen you just release a lot of stress?" he said. After the hurricane damaged power lines at Stewart Air National Guard Ba se last Friday, the temperature of the drugs became a matter of debate. That day, officials of the 105th Airlift Wing at the base called the Def ense Department, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the vaccine 's manufacturer, BioPort Corp. of Michigan, for advice. They were told that the temperature of the vaccine at the base "still was within an acceptable range," unit spokeswoman Trish Heikkila said. But she said the base commander, Brig. Gen. Thomas P. Maguire, decided t hat was not acceptable enough, so the vaccinations were canceled. The vaccinati ons have not yet been rescheduled, she said. Another general and an assistant S ecretary of defense, who was visiting the base, agreed with Maguire, sources sa id. Five to eight pilots at the base have resigned rather than take the shot S and 20 to 25 others are expected to do the same, said Russell Dingle, a forme r Connecticut Air National Guard flight commander, who is unofficially monitori ng such pilot resignations nationwide and has supplied evidence of them to cong ressional officials. An additional 100 or more support personnel also were expected to resign, said Dingle, who resigned from the Connecticut unit this year rather than take the shots. Heikkila would not confirm those figures Wednesday but she said some Gua rd members who had submitted resignations had "rescinded them" indefinitely or until they determined whether anthrax vaccinations would be rescheduled at the base. "There are all kinds of people [in many units nationwide] who are having second thoughts about the shots," she said. More than 350,000 service members nationwide have started taking the man datory vaccines. At least 300 military personnel refusing the vaccine were disc iplined or removed dishonorably from the service, and others face disciplinary action. Some people who have been vaccinated have complained of becoming seriou sly ill for months at a time. Tuesday, U.S. Rep. Christopher Shays, R-4th District, chairman of a cong ressional subcommittee investigating the use of the vaccine, will call witnesse S to determine how many units are complying with the forced anthrax vaccination S. Mangieri, who has left the Newburgh unit, will be one of the witnesses. <a name="s19990928linehan.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928linehan.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Philadelphia Inquirer September 27, 1999 Gen. John F. Linehan Jr., War Expert By Rusty Pray, Inquirer Staff Writer Gen. John F. Linehan Jr., 87, whose job with the military and as a civili an was to prepare for war and its aftermath, died Wednesday of congestive heart failure at Lankenau Hospital. Gen. Linehan was hired by the City of Philadelphia in 1967 to work for th e Office of Emergency Preparedness because of his expertise in nuclear warfare and his knowledge of the effects of radiation. Ten years later, he was appointed a deputy director of the office, a posi tion he held until he retired in 1982. He lived in Overbrook while working for the city. At the time Gen. Linehan was with the office, it was primarily responsibl e for civil defense readiness. Its name, along with its focus, was changed in 1 987. It is now the Office of Emergency Management, and it coordinates the city' S response to many kinds of emergencies. Gen. Linehan grew up in Philadelphia and in 1930 graduated from West Cath olic High School for Boys, where he was on the rowing team. He earned a bachelo r's degree in business administration from Drexel University in 1935. He served in Europe during World War II as a company commander of the 66t h Infantry Division in the Army, earning a Bronze Star. After the war, he staye d in the Army Reserve, reaching the rank of brigadier general in 1963. He was d eputy commander of the 79th Operational Headquarters at the Army Reserve Center in Upper Darby from 1963 until he retired from the Army and went to work for t he city in 1967. During the time he served in the Army Reserve, he lived in Havertown and was an independent insurance agent in civilian life. He spent the last 14 years living in Wynnewood. Gen. Linehan loved sports. He was a member of the Philadelphia Lacrosse A ssociation, a skillful tennis player and a long-suffering Eagles fan. His athletic interest was passed on to his son, John, who has coached lac rosse at Lower Merion High School for 29 years. In addition to his son, Gen. Li nehan is survived by his wife of 52 years, Adriena; a daughter, Katherine Marti nelli; and two grandchildren. A memorial Mass will be said at 11 a.m. today at St. Margaret Roman Catho lic Church, 208 N. Narberth Ave. in Narberth. Friends may call at 10 a.m. Inter ment will take place on a later date in Arlington National Cemetery. Memorial c ontributions may be made to the World War II Veterans Fund, Box 96766, Washingt on, D.C. 20090. <a name="s19990928pay.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928pay.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> P>Washington Post September 28, 1999 Pg. B7 Pay Raises Don't Appear At Risk In Budget Showdown By Mike Causey Despite a potential budget clash between Congress and the White Ho use, the two appropriations bills authorizing a 4.8 percent January pay raise f or white-collar federal workers and military personnel appear to be outside the political danger zone. President Clinton has threatened to veto one or more appropriation S bills approved by Congress or in the works. That would produce a partial gove rnment shutdown unless both sides agree to a continuing resolution to keep agen cies operating when the new fiscal year begins Friday. During the last such shu tdown--triggered by a series of presidential vetoes--Republicans took most of t he political heat. Although playing political chicken has become standard procedure, both pay raises seem safe. Energy Department brass have advised the White House they can live with controversial security-related language contained in the defense authoriz ation bill. That bill is the vehicle for next year's military pay raise. The 4.8 percent is more than the 4.4 percent proposed by the presi dent, but the White House has no problem with the higher amount. But this month it warned of a possible veto of the defense authorization bill because of the Energy Department language. That issue appears to have been been resolved, howe ver, so the pay raise remains on track. The Treasury, Postal Service, general government appropriations bi II also seems to be immune to veto threats that have been issued against other money packages. The bill is the vehicle generally favored by politicians seekin g larger raises than the White House has proposed. This year, Rep. Steny H. Hoy er (D-Md.) inserted the 4.8 percent pay raise language in the House version, an d Sen. Ted Stevens (R-Alaska), the Appropriations Committee chairman, put the h igher civilian raise in the Senate bill. <a name="s19990928coffman.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928coffman.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Defense Daily September 28, 1999 Pg. 1 Coffman: Lockheed Martins Fortunes Are Improving By Vago Muradian After a turbulent year that has exacted a severe financial toll, Lockhe ed Martins [LMT] health is steadily improving in a recovery to be accelerated b y a fundamental restructuring plan disclosed yesterday, according to a top exec utive. "We are on an upward trend in getting some of these [performance] issues resolved and getting the entire management team focused on our customers and we think that will have positive results for our shareholders," Vance Coffman, Lockheed Martins chairman and CEO, told Defense Daily immediately fol lowing a meeting with financial analysts at the Plaza Hotel in New York City ye sterday where he presented the companys much-anticipated restructuring plan. &q uot;From my perspective, the recent successful Titan launch and the THAAD [miss ile] going into EMD [Engineering and Manufacturing Development]--which were our two biggest problems--and C-130Js being delivered on schedule shows were on tr ack." Coffman launched the restructuring effort in June on disclosing dismal second quarter results to determine the source of the problems and how best to quickly restore investor and customer confidence in the worlds leading defense company and return it to financial health. At the same time, Coffman and his ma nagement team sought to refocus the giant on its core aerospace, defense and in formation technology businesses. Tough Year The past year has been a brutal one for Lockheed Martin as the gian t company has lurched from one major problem to another including derailed sate llite production, failed rocket launches and missile tests, and late transport deliveries. Although problems have been steadily resolved--Titan rockets have been returned to flight and delayed C-130J transports being delivered--the company h as lost more than 20 percent of its stock value since the beginning of the year An independent study panel in August concluded that among the common themes 1 inking the problems--largely within the companys space sector--included inadequ ate quality control and antiquated internal processes that hampered internal CO mmunications among business units. "We had some issues that required immediate action," Robert S tevens, Lockheed Martins new chief financial officer told Defense Daily. " But the actions we are taking are really addressing not just the short-term, bu t the long-term from the bottom, up and from the inside, out." Under the plan, the company will: consolidate from 27 business lines to 17; abolish its five current sectors and reconstitute remaining businesses int o four operating units by Oct. 1; consider divesting eight units that employ ab out 9,000 and generate about $1.8 billion in 1998 revenue, including the Sander S electronic warfare unit; streamline the business area staff from 180 to 50; a nd institute new financial management processes, among them monthly program rev iews. The divestitures, after taxes and fees, should generate more than $1 bi Ilion in cash that would be applied to debt reduction to cut Lockheed Martins d ebt-to-capital ratio from 65 percent in 1999 to 60 percent in 2000. Costs associated with the restructuring could be covered by the sale of Lora 1 [LOR] and L-3 Communications [LLL] stock held by Lockheed Martin, alon g with real estate sales, ensuring little if any change to earnings projections , Coffman said. "Our objective is to be the worlds best integrator of complex syst ems for our core aerospace, defense and technology services customers," Co ffman told analysts in New York. "The actions we are announcing today are designed to organize each of our core businesses to ensure customer satisfactio n, mission success and maximum operating efficiency [and] are part of a conti nuing process that will sharpen our customer focus, improve communications and increase quality and accountability throughout the organization." Coffman during the interview added that a clash of corporate cultures S temming from Lockheed Martins formation through a series of mergers and acquisi tions that fused 17 companies together within a few years contributed to perfor mance problems. "It is getting back to basics and putting the focus on the idea of one company, one culture and being focused on the customer," Coffman adde d during the interview. "We had long discussions with about 85 of our top executives, and one of the things that became apparent was that we are all prou d of our past and heritage companies, but we have been Lockheed Martin for four -and-a-half years now, and thats what were going to be going forward." Once the sectors are abolished on Oct. 1, an entire management layer wi Il be eliminated as the company reforms into four business units that will have far better communications. In fact, Coffman stressed that the executives leadi ng the units will have access to generous incentives to ensure important inform ation is shared. major criticism of Lockheed Martin has been that the company is too centra lized and "stovepiped," or organized in such a manner that informatio n would not easily flow across sector lines. The four new units will generate $23 billion of Lockheed Martins 1998 S ales of $26 billion, and be led by executive vice presidents who will answer di rectly to Peter Teets, the companys president and chief operating officer. The new operating units are: * Aeronautical Systems, which generated $5.5 billion in 1998 sales, W ill be headed by James "Micky" Blackwell who will manage the tactical aircraft, airlift and aeronautical research and development lines of business; * Space Systems, which generated $7.5 billion in 1998 sales, will be headed by Al Smith who will manage the space launch, commercial satellites, gov ernment satellites and strategic missiles lines of business; * Systems Integration, which generated about $9 billion in 1998 sales , will be headed by Robert Coutts who will manage the missiles and fire control , naval systems, platform integration, and C4I lines of business; and * Technology Services, which generated more than $2 billion in 1998 S ales, will be headed by Michael Camardo who will manage the federal services, e nergy programs and aeronautical services lines of business. Blackwell, Smith and Coutts will head their units from Lockheed Martins headquarters in Bethesda, Md., although Camardo will manage his unit from Cher ry Hill, N.J. The change in structure "is intended to make sure that the person who is an executive vice president is a representative of the corporation," ; Coffman said. "So when Blackwell goes to the Air Force, he knows whats g oing on in space; albeit not at the same level as Al Smith." Stevens added that the change in structure was in response to comments from customers seeking a better, more efficient organizational structure. Stevens abruptly replaced Phil Duke, Lockheed Martins CFO, who is among the executives who have been reassigned in the wake of the restructuring. Duke , who had been groomed to replace former CFO Marcus Bennett on Bennetts retirem ent one year ago, will become executive vice president of the new "shared services function" at corporate headquarters. Coffman explained that Duke was moved from the CFO job to better use hi S talents. Sources, however, said Dukes move also was an offering to Wall Stree t, where some investors have been calling for major management changes. As currently structured, each of Lockheed Martins sectors has its own a dministrative, human resources, purchasing, contracting and legal departments. With the restructuring, these functions will be consolidated into one corporate operation that will be overseen by Duke, allowing for a unified, company-wide approach that will yield considerable savings, executives said. Between 500 and 600 jobs would be eliminated through the consolidation. Before taking the CFO job, Stevens served as vice president of corporat e strategic development, and previously as CFO and COO at operating company and sector levels within Lockheed Martin. In turn, Art Johnson, the president and COO of Lockheed Martins Information & Services sector, will replace Stevens in the strategic development slot. Although Johnson will lose a sector, he will oversee three units that f all outside Lockheed Martins core aerospace, defense and information operations --Enterprise Information Systems, Orlando, Fla.; Integrated Business Solutions, Orlando, Fla.; and IMS, Teaneck, N.J. The three generate about $2 billion annu ally, with EIS contributing about $1 billion of that total. Lockheed Martin Global Telecommunications will continue to be headed by John Sponyoe as a separate subsidiary, which will press ahead with its $2.7 bi llion acquisition of COMSAT [CQ]. Coffman said he is committed to the COMSAT tr ansaction, and that risk and equity partners are being sought on the telecommun ications venture. Between six and nine months--with help from Bear Stearns and Goldman Sa chs Lockheed Martin hopes to divest through auction eight units that do not contribute to the companys systems integration focus, including: * The Aerospace Electronics line of business, which includes Sanders in Nashua and Manchester, N.H.; Infrared Imaging Systems in Lexington, Mass.; F airchild Systems in Syosset and Yonkers, N.Y., and Milpitas, Calif.; and the sp ace electronics product line in Manassas, Va. (The undersea systems business an d Defense Message System program at Manassas will not be affected.); * Control Systems in Johnson City, N.Y., and Ft. Wayne, Ind.; and * The Environmental Management line of business, which includes Hanfo rd Corporation of Richland, Wash.; Retech of Ukiah, Calif.; and the Energy Tech nologies unit based in Bethesda, Md. (Energy defense programs and energy resear ch will be retained as core businesses within the technology services business area). "We are going to reposition these businesses in the best interests of Lockheed Martins customers and shareholders," Coffman said. "Thes e businesses represent considerable value that needs to be unlocked, and we int end to extract maximum value through exploring potential joint ventures, partne rships, spin-offs, or other structures." Another source of the companys troubles have been antiquated internal p rocesses that failed to quickly and completely warn of major financial problems associated with key programs. Over the past year, the corporate staff has been surprised by added costs that have derailed earnings. To end the problem, two moves are being taken. First, better early-warn ing systems are being adopted through the use of Earned-Value Management techni ques across all Lockheed Martin operating companies. Also, Value-Based Manageme nt will become a formal part of the criteria for the corporations Management In centive Compensation Program. Second, the company is improving its internal Independent Cost Estimati ng processes that use teams of executives and outside advisors to generate &quo t;second opinions" on whether the company can achieve projected cost perfo rmance on in-process contracts and new-business opportunities. Analysts Reaction Mixed Analysts offered mixed reviews. The market gave the deal a thumbs u p, with company shares ending the day on the New York Stock Exchange up about $ 1.56 at about $32.19. Some, including Pierre Chao of Credit Suisse First Boston, said the pla n was a strong step in rebuilding the company in the eyes of beleaguered shareh olders. "My sense is cautious optimism; this is all about steady improveme nts and proving to the world that you are actually changing for the better, &quo t; Chao told Defense Daily. "So this is yet another step, but its a long r oad thats not a straight path. The successful missile tests and the return of t he Titan to flight were two steps forward, but the loss of the spy satellite co ntract to Boeing was one step back. The key is, were making progress, which is why weve got a strong buy on the stock." Earlier this month, the National Reconnaissance Office selected Boeing [BA] over Lockheed Martin as the contractor of the satellite portion of Future Imagery Architecture, effectively ending Lockheed Martins four decades of domin ation in the spy satellite market. Lockheed Martin, however, protested the deci sion last week (Defense Daily, Sept. 27). Other analysts, however, were more skeptical. "The fact that there is no near-term impact in terms of earnings a nd cash flow is why investors are going to have a wait-and-see attitude until t hey see Lockheed Martin come through for them," Sam Pearlstein of ING Barings added. "Based on their recent performance, theyre [investors] a rent willing to give them the benefit of the doubt." Thats not to say the company hasnt made encouraging progress, Pearlstei n added. "They certainly are having success with their launch vehicles, but you still have some outstanding issues. Congress has yet to fund the F-22, the UAE F-16 contract has not been signed and they hinted today it may not happen until next year. Thats what they said last year. So its progress, but its not 1 ike everything is all better just yet." <a name="s19990928aimed.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928aimed.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Aviation Week & Space Technology September 27, 1999 AH-64D Tests Aimed At Proving Agility Mission-weight aerobatic display derived from tests m ay bolster international sales efforts and counter criticism that the airframe is too heavy to maneuver smoothly By Paul Proctor, Seattle Boeing further expanded the flight envelope of its AH-64D Apache Longbo W attack helicopter this past summer in a nine-day-long test program that culmi nated in hammerhead stalls, full loops and split-S maneuvers. The demonstration helps counter criticism the Apache Longbow has become t 00 heavy to maneuver smoothly, according to Robert Mitchell, director of busine SS development at Boeing's rotorcraft factory in Mesa, Ariz. A nearly 10-min.-1 ong public aerobatic display, developed from the test flying program, was perfo rmed in Mesa on Sept. 17. The test plan covered 12 flights totaling 14.4 hr. at aircraft gross weig hts exceeding 16,000 lb. Goal was to "completely clear the flight envelope and assure there were no handling or performance issues," according to Mark Metzger , chief pilot for Boeing rotorcraft. The first AH-64D production vehicle (PV-01 ) performed the flying duties. The test package consisted of a series of gradually increasing pitch, rol 1 and bank angles, according to Richard Lee, Boeing experimental test pilot. Cr itical data from 1,200 lb. of instrumentation on board the AH-64D was telemeter ed in real time to a sophisticated ground control station. Related information from the otherwise stock helicopter was recorded for later review. During the tests, pilots flew higher and higher pitch-up angles, ultimate ly transitioning into a hammerhead stall maneuver, Lee said. Loops started with "skewed" or circular maneuvers that didn't go purely over the vertical; roll r ate was increased incrementally from 40 deg./sec. to 90 deg./sec. Various entry scenarios and escape maneuvers also were checked. The latter helped confirm th at safe recovery is possible if a pilot aborts a maneuver at any time. As a result, the AH-64D airframe equipped with Longbow radar now has a "v irtually unlimited" flight envelope with no pitch, roll or yaw restrictions, Me tzger said. As with any aircraft, "never exceed" speed and g-limits still apply . The evaluation program also showed high repeatability, or predictable handlin g, in all flight scenarios. Clearing the aircraft for such extensive flight man euvering and recovery envelopes also builds military pilot and customer confide nce, according to industry officials. The public flight display, held at Falcon Field next to Boeing's Apache f actory in Mesa, used a standard U.S. Army airframe, PV-80, leased from the serv ice. As in the midsummer trials, it flew equipped with mast-mounted Longbow fir e control radar and in typical U.S. Army mission configuration. Takeoff weight was 16,600 lb. and included eight weight- and size-representative Hellfire miss iles and two 70-mm. rocket pods. The airport was temporarily closed for the aer obatic program. A similar display will be flown daily at this week's International Defens e, Aerospace & Maritime Fair air show in Ankara, Turkey. The AH-64D is comp eting for a large attack helicopter order from the Turkish military. The Turkish flight display will start with a double loop followed by a tu rn back around to enter a roll, Lee said. After a climbing positioning turn, th e helicopter will perform a single loop, linking the loop to a split-S maneuver on the same pass. The split-S consists of a pitch-up to a 45-deg. angle and th en rolling inverted. The pilot then "pulls-through" inverted flight until level , effecting a 180-deg. course reversal, he said. Each of the daily performances will be flown with an altitude floor of 500 ft. for maximum spectator visibili ty, although previous Boeing Apache demonstrations have been flown lower. Boeing's competitors do not conduct aerobatic display maneuvers at repres entative mission gross weights, so the Turkish displays should be a real compet itive advantage, Mitchell said. The Mesa routine flown earlier this month was a variation of this program modified to meet local airspace constraints. The Apache is not unfamiliar to aerobatic performances. The AH-64A first flew aerobatics displays at the Paris air show in 1989, according to Stu Park, AH-64 business development manager. He was a demonstration pilot on that team. At almost 1,200 lb. heavier than its predecessor, the Longbow performs "b etter than the A-model in all maneuvers tested with the strain and stress of he avy loads," according to Lee. Improvements incorporated in the D model include updated avionics and digital flight control and flight management systems. The AH-64D also has slightly more powerful 1,940-shp. T700-GE-701C engines, a stren gthened fuselage and improved vibration control. Apache AH-64D Longbow Specifications Crew: 2 Engines: Two T700-GE-701C turboshafts @ 1,940 shp. each Gross Weight: 16,491 lb. primary mission; 23,000 lb. ferry Max. Range: 257 naut. mi. with internal fuel on standard day Endurance: 2.74 hr. with internal fuel; 8 hr. with auxiliary fuel tanks Speed: 143 kt. maximum level flight speed, standard day; 143 kt. cruise spee d, standard day; 197 kt. design limit speed, standard day Weapons: 16 Hellfire missiles, 76 70-mm. Multi-Purpose Submunitions, 1,200 3 0-mm. ammunitions rounds, 4 air-to-air missiles, wingtip mounted Service Ceiling: 19,400 ft. Targeting Systems: LPI Fire Control Radar, Passive Radar Frequency Interfero meter and Target Acquisition and Designation Sight (TADS) which includes day te levision, direct view optics, thermal imaging Flir, laser spot tracker, and las er range finder/designator Battlefield Management: Color multifunction displays, mission data loader, t actical situation displays, digital target handover, priority fire zones and no -fire zones, digital secure communications name="s19990928spy.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928spy.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Washington Post September 25, 1999 Pg. 3 Spy Satellite Will Take Photos For Public Sale Launch Allows Company to Market Images of Almost Anyw here By Vernon Loeb, Washington Post Staff Writer A Colorado firm launched a satellite yesterday to provide pictures for sale to the public that will come closer than ever before to the quality of U.S intelligence photographs, giving a capability once reserved for superpowers t o dictators and human rights groups, terrorists and television stations. The pictures are so good, in fact, that U.S. intelligence agencies will be one of the biggest clients of Space Imaging Inc., which launched its Ikonos satellite from Vandenberg Air Force Base in California, roaring back from an un successful launch in April that destroyed an identical spacecraft. At "one-meter resolution"--far better than anything now commercially ava ilable from U.S., French, Russian or Indian companies--the satellite's digital color images can depict objects as small as three feet wide from a vantage poin t 423 miles in space, enabling foreign military leaders to distinguish tanks fr om jeeps on a highway, or jet fighters from bombers at an airfield. "The price of admission to the spy satellite business used to be a billi on dollars," said John Pike, an intelligence expert at the Federation of Americ an Scientists. "Now, anybody with a credit card" can buy high-resolution satell ite photos. In addition to possible military uses, the photos have numerous commerci al applications. TV networks may be able to do their own bomb damage assessment S the next time world powers go to war. Insurance underwriters could check on t he construction of backyard decks. And space policy analysts predict that satel lite capabilities will continue to improve, raising concerns about privacy as p hotos eventually are able to capture not only backyard decks but sunbathers, to O. U.S. intelligence officials like the commercial imagery precisely becaus e it is not secret, which means it can be freely shared with allies and interna tional organizations, unlike the highly classified pictures from spy satellites "We don't see commercial imagery as a threat--we see it as contributing to the whole concept of information superiority," said Laura Snow, spokeswoman for the National Imagery and Mapping Agency, the intelligence agency responsibl e for making U.S. military maps and analyzing satellite photos. NIMA already has set aside $580 million to buy and process commercial im agery over the next six years, helping to eliminate a backlog in mapping and to fill gaps in coverage by the nation's overburdened fleet of billion-dollar spy satellites. While the capabilities of government satellites are secret, they are sai d to be able not only to distinguish tanks from jeeps, but to see whether the j eeps have license plates. Despite NIMA's eagerness to make use of Ikonos, U.S. intelligence offici als are deeply concerned about controlling high-resolution space imagery. Space Imaging is prohibited from selling its pictures to countries that sponsor terr orism and are subject to U.S. trade embargoes. In licensing the new satellite, the United States retained "shutter control" rights, allowing the government to order the private company to limit distribution or stop taking pictures in a n ational security crisis. Israel also used its lobbying clout in Congress two years ago to insert a provision in a defense spending bill that prohibits U.S. firms from taking hi gh-resolution satellite images of its territory. John C. Baker, a space policy expert at Rand Corp., said the Israeli ban is the only exception to the federal government's "policy of open skies permitting satellite imagery of the entire earth." Baker called the advent of one-meter commercial imagery a significant st ep toward "global transparency" and predicted the rise of "imagery activists"-- special-interest groups able to have an impact on issues such as arms control a nd environmental protection by using satellite photos. "We're talking about a qualitative improvement over what's existed befor e in terms of using satellite imagery to observe human activity anywhere in the world," Baker said. "It's real public access." Space Imaging is a $700 million joint venture led by Lockheed Martin Cor p. and Raytheon Co. that also includes corporate investors from Japan, South Ko rea, Singapore, Thailand and Sweden. It expects Ikonos to produce its first ima ge in three days and to start beaming back a stream of digital images for sale within 90 days. The satellite, built by Lockheed Martin Commercial Space Systems in Sunn yvale, Calif., will orbit the globe 14 times a day on a sun-synchronous orbit, enabling it to take pictures of any spot on earth once every three days. An image of one square mile will sell for $20 to $300, depending on whet her it contains precise geo-coordinates, with minimum orders of $1,000 required at first, the company said. Baker and other analysts say it remains to be seen whether a commercial market exists for these pictures, but Space Imaging's chief executive officer, John Copple, said the firm already has $15 million in orders. Imagery Industry The pictures for sale to the public from the Ikonos satellite will have a resolution of one meter, twice as good as Russian imagery and five times as g ood as Indian. Ikonos 1 satellite Manufacturer: Lockheed Martin Weight: 1,600 pounds Speed: 4 miles per second Orbit time: 98 minutes <a name="s19990928takes.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928takes.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> New York Times September 28, 1999 China Takes Security Precautions Before Celebration By Erik Eckholm BEIJING -- As they complete preparations for extravagant festivities on Friday marking 50 years of communist rule, the Chinese authorities are leaving nothing to chance. This week, as rehearsals involving hundreds of thousands of marchers, rumbling convoys of tanks and screaming squadrons of fighter jets ta per down, the focus has shifted to security. In one sign of the meticulous planning, Zhao Ziyang, the former Communi st Party chief and prime minister, has been moved from his home in central Beij ing to a distant suburb and his visitors are more tightly restricted than usual , his friends say. Zhao has been under house arrest since 1989, when he was dep osed for sympathizing with pro-democracy student demonstrators. Zhao's successors apparently hope to prevent him from dampening the big party by sneaking out a call for political change, as he sometimes has in the past. In keeping with the superlatives surrounding the celebration, last Frid ay 660,000 pensioners -- most of whom have already served on local government c ommittees -- were deputized as "activists" to vigilantly patrol their neighborh oods, local newspapers reported. Each was given a new red armband, and they are visible on back streets, sitting or strolling as they keep a lookout for potential bombers, illegal mig rants, die-hard practitioners of the banned Falun Gong mystical exercises, and other threats to public safety. The authorities are determined to prevent any demonstrations by spiritu al groups or pro-democracy dissidents, let alone bombings by ethnic separatists or other angry citizens. In an exhortation to the police last week, Public Sec urity Minister Jia Chunwang said: "This day of joy for the country's people is one that hostile elements at home and abroad find painful." Thousands of migrant workers from other regions of China have been sent packing, and anyone who is not a legally registered resident of Beijing has ge nerally been warned to stay away. For the last few weeks, the police have scree ned arriving passengers at train and bus stations, sending home some who lacked Beijing work permits and could not show a legitimate purpose for visiting. Eve ry hotel and hostel has had to report the identities of all guests to the polic e. Even Beijing residents, apart from the 500,000 taking part, will have 1 ittle chance to actually see the parade. Nearby streets will be barricaded and the public will have to watch the festivities on television, with any disappoin tment perhaps assuaged by the special seven-day holiday decreed last week. Ther e will also be fireworks displays in 10 parks around the city. Residents of some apartments along the parade route received written in structions to remain inside their homes, with windows closed, from 2 p.m. Thurs day until 8 a.m. Saturday. Still, Beijingers have enjoyed some tangible benefits. The reported 10 million pots of flowers now gracing city streets will wilt, but newly widened S treets and sidewalks are here to stay. A newly opened pedestrian mall along several blocks of Wangfujing Stree t, not far from Tiananmen Square, was an instant hit. Last weekend, hundreds of thousands of people strolled the area, snapping pictures of one another and wa tching a water fountain dance to the sounds of a Strauss waltz. <a name="s19990928two.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFThttp://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928two.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Christian Science Monitor September 28, 1999 Pg. 8 Two Nuns Murdered In E. Timor Compiled From Wire Services LISBON, PORTUGAL -- United Nations troops launched a surprise helicopte r raid on an East Timor militia stronghold yesterday, forcing pro-Indonesia fig hters to flee into the hills. The swoop came as a Roman Catholic priest said nine people, including t wo nuns, were killed by gunmen in the latest attack on Roman Catholic clergy in East Timor. The Roman Catholic Bishop of Baucau, East Timor's second-largest town, told Portuguese state radio RDP the attack took place Saturday on a rural road as the group returned from Los Palos, 18 miles to the east. "Unfortunately, we have received confirmation today that they were kill ed and thrown into a stream," Bishop Basilio do Nascimento said. The dead also included two seminarians, the local head of the Catholic church relief agency Caritas, two volunteers, the vehicle's driver, and an Indo nesian journalist working for a Japanese news organization, the bishop said. The Italian missionary news service MISNA reported that pro-Indonesian militiamen carried out the attack. Hundreds - perhaps thousands - of people have been killed, and hundreds of thousands have fled their homes in the violence that has swept through East Timor since it overwhelmingly voted for independence from Indonesia in a UN-sp onsored referendum on Aug. 30. Most of those displaced from East Timor have fled to West Timor, the ot her side of the island that is still part of Indonesia. It is also where the wi thdrawing Indonesian Army and militias have gone. So far, the Australian-led multinational peacekeeping force has secured only the town of Dili in East Timor. Australian Associated Press said no shots were fired during yesterday's raid on the militia stronghold, the first outside Dili and in the town of Bauc au. <a u name="s19990928yugoslavs.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928yugoslavs.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Philadelphia Inquirer September 26, 1999 Pg. 1 Yugoslavs' Free Fall Into Poverty In the once-prosperous country, even life's necessiti es are hard-won. By Jeffrey Fleishman, Inquirer Staff Writer BELGRADE, Yugoslavia - On the outskirts of town, beyond the bombed buil dings, past men selling firewood and women pickling tomatoes for winter, Goran Maslesa moved like a penniless prince among the gasoline smugglers. With cell p hone and satchel, he watched for police and hustled bottles of diesel beneath a row of maple trees. But there were few buyers at this outpost of Belgrade's black market. "People are flat out of money," Maslesa said. "It's worse here now than it was in Bosnia after the war. No one can get by. It's a country of smuggled cigarettes, gas and food. Look at Yugoslavia. After years of war, all we have i S a shrunken, poor country. I can barely earn enough to survive." In a city in which wallets hold mostly emptiness and limbless veterans beg in the streets, Maslesa's was just another hard-luck story. Yugoslavia's 10-year economic slide has bewildered even the criminals a mong its population of 10 million. Pensions aren't paid. Cars crumble with rust The cost of living soars. The landscape is blackened by factories and bridges bombed last spring by NATO. Ruins of ragged metal and broken glass remind Yugo slavs daily that they are Europe's vanquished state, a country in which childre n go without medicine and widows can barely afford vegetables. Yugoslavia was once among the richest communist nations. Prosperity beg an to evaporate in 1989 when President Slobodan Milosevic reawakened Serbian na tionalism and plunged his people into four disastrous wars. Hundreds of thousan ds of Serb refugees from across the Balkans flooded Yugoslavia. Economic sancti ons imposed by the West hobbled the economy. War profiteers and Milosevic's cab inet ministers cornered what was left, as Yugoslavia's gross domestic product f ell from $30.4 billion to $10.3 billion. In the last 18 months, the average salary has fallen from $140 a month to $50. Unemployment is 50 percent. And since the beginning of this month, acco rding to the United Nations, prices have leaped: the cost of fruit juice has ri sen by 70 percent, bread is up 60 percent, and milk has increased by 27 percent The price of beef has jumped from $1 a pound to $1.75. Gasoline is $5 a gallo n from smugglers, twice the price that state gas stations charge, but the state stations have little to sell. Automobile production once the pride of the nation - has tumbled from 220,000 in 1990 to 12,000 today. "There is no mystery," said Srboljub Antic, an economist. "We have ever y economic problem you can imagine. We are a state without real institutions. W e have a bank, but it's just a shell. In our country you don't rob the bank, it robs you If we don't get any foreign aid, it will take 40 to 80 years ust to get where we were in 1990." Total war damage from destroyed buildings to lost production - is est imated at $27 billion. Yugoslavia now has a lower per-capita gross domestic pro duct than its archenemy Albania, the poorest nation in Europe. Images on Belgrade's streets seem lifted from a dark fairy tale. Worker S wait for buses that never come. Gas lines wrap around corners, women brush du st from frayed dresses. Garbage blows past pensioners gazing in butcher-shop wi ndows at meat they can't afford. They gripe and head home with plastic bags of potatoes and onions. Looming above it all is the abandoned 25-story Communist P arty headquarters, where last May a NATO missile blew out windows and crumpled the red and white communications tower. Destruction haunts the nation. Fallen bridges in Novi Sad reach like tw isted hands out of the Danube River. Farm fields are scarred and sown with shra pnel. The runway at the Batajnica military airport is pocked with craters, its slouching hangars peppered with shrapnel holes. Blinds dangle from broken windows at the Chinese Embassy at Cherry Blos som Street No. 3. The facade is scorched black and raw with concrete and contor ted steel. Many Serbs say they are resigned to their fate. They drift in what one analyst calls a "collective depression" kept alive by Milosevic's misguided pol icies and a historical trait of feeling persecuted by the world. Sixty percent of the country has less than a high-school education, and reality is shaped by propaganda on Milosevic's state-run television. But many still rally for change. Every night in Republic Square, those seeking to overthrow Milosevic grab microphones and rattle off Yugoslavia's gri m distinctions: "At the end of the 20th century," Dr. Branislav Ignjatov bellow ed two nights ago, "there are 33,000 people in Serbia with tuberculosis and no person over 18 years of age has healthy teeth." Gorica Arsenijevic said chants of protest were poetic but useless. Her concern is the coming winter. A retired textile worker, Arsenijevic is due a pension of $40 a month. The Milosevic regime hasn't paid her for thre e months. Instead, Arsenijevic received government-issued coupons for electricity But there is a catch: The United Nations is predicting that Serbia's power pl ants will generate 30 percent to 50 percent less electricity this winter. Black outs will blotch the country; millions may go without heat. Like most Serbs, Ar senijevic gets through winter on vegetables she cans and meat she freezes. But with tomato prices up 500 percent in recent years, she is canning less. And if electricity is scarce, her meat will rot. It is a dilemma that has forced even Belgrade's nouveau riche to learn how to smoke meat to preserve it. Across town, the sun warmed honey jars at Janic Visna's market stall. S he has lost 60 percent of her customers and is lucky if she earns $10 a day. Li fe, she said, was bad, but NATO bombing made it worse. She said she would like to return to the days - in the 1960s and '70s - when Marshal Tito ran the count ry and business was good and vacations long. "Clinton and Albright are guilty for what has happened to us," said Mil jkovic Ljubinca, an engineer pricing Mardic's honey jars. "They destroyed this country with economic sanctions before they even fired their weapons at us. How can we live if our factories are destroyed? There's no fuel for buses and tram s." Ljubinca's rage rises each day when she walks along Kneza Milosa Street There, on a stretch once beautiful with statues and green domes, stand the sa gging buildings struck by NATO. "It's going to take a while to rebuild this country," said Vladimir Mal es, a 6-foot-tall 16-year-old, who dreams of playing professional basketball.' But I don't think my future is here. I don't think anybody's future is. I think they should force everyone to leave and then have someone come in and fix it и p like magic. "You know, I've been waiting here 30 minutes for a bus." At the rim of the city, men with big trucks sell firewood. This should be a good year, they said. People are worried about electrical outages. Milosev ic is good for business, commented one. But so far, things have been slow, and the men mostly sit whittling and sipping beer. "People are scared about the electricity, but there's also a shortage o money," said Jile Stankovic, a bearded man who sells oak at $30 a cubic meter . "They have to buy food. They can spare no money now. So they'll wait. Then, i t will get cold and they'll have to come and spend what they don't have." Novak Radosevic, 51, a grandfather with a truckload of unsold wood, explained the si tuation in more philosophical terms: "You see, Serbs can overcome all bad situa tions. The problem is there are always bad situations facing us. We're rich in wood, but lousy in government." Down the boulevard, Goran Maslesa was angry. The police confiscated 300 liters of his black-market gasoline two days ago. He smuggles it from Bosnia, where in 1995 Maslesa fought with the Serbs in the town of Srebrenica, where 7, 000 Muslim men were massacred. He said he liked war and was angry with Milosevi c for giving up on Bosnia and more recently, Kosovo. "It's all about money," Maslesa said, "And now most people just don't h ave it. The communist mafia is killing the gas smugglers. They work with the st ate. They have the state police take our gas and then it ends up in the state-c ontrolled gas stations, which the mafia really controls. That's how it works wi th everything." "This country doesn't have anything to show for the last 10 years." A man and his wife in a tiny car pulled up to Maslesa. Money flashed. M aslesa reached for a plastic bottle of gasoline. name="s19990928warring.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928warring.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Christian Science Monitor September 28, 1999 Pg. 6 Warring Parties In Congo Test Their Fragile Peace Pact Rwanda and Uganda sent more troops to the Congo last week. By Lara Santoro, Special to The Christian Science Monitor NAIROBI, KENYA -- Despite pledges of restraint to prevent the unraveling of their alliance, Uganda and Rwanda seem to be moving toward a second armed confr ontation in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Both sides deployed two battalions, roughly 1,500 men each, near Rutshuru in the far east of Congo last week. Experts say the move may lead to the opening of a third front in the vast central African country between the Ugandan People 's Defense Forces and the Rwandan Patriotic Army. Both Rwanda and Uganda signed a peace agreement to end the conflict in the C ongo, along with four other countries and three rebel groups. But over the past two months, there have been reports of repeated violations of the truce by all parties involved. Hopes that the deal might hold were further dampened by Zimb abwe's announcement, last week, that its army backing of Congolese President La urent Kabila, would set up a mining business in partnership with the Congolese government to fund the war. The deployment of additional troops in the Rwandan - and Ugandan-controlled sectors in Eastern Congo came after Congolese rebels sponsored by Uganda insist ed on appointing their own governor in the province of North Kivu. The present governor, Leonard Kanyamuhaga Gafundi, was installed earlier on by the Congoles e Rally for Democracy (RDC), a Rwandan rebel movement. The appointment of a rival authority catering to Ugandan interests in North Kivu increased tensions between Rwanda and Uganda. The two nations, then allies , invaded Congo 13 months ago to topple Mr. Kabila, whom they saw as a threat t o their countries' security. But simmering disagreements over the conduct of th eir campaigns have erupted into open animosity. War between two of Africa's closest allies hasn't broken out yet. But analys ts say that the brutality of Rwanda's and Uganda's first armed confrontation in August, as well as the recent troop deployments in North Kivu, does not bode W ell for the agreement. For weeks now, the question has been to what degree Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni was involved in the decision to attack Rwandan positions in Kisangani Brig. Gen. James Kazini, in charge of Uganda's campaign, has since been remov ed from Kisangani. But he continues to run military operations from the norther n Congolese town of Gbagdolite. Tensions between the two armies built over Uganda's determination to play a leading role in a war that "none of its officers were actually ready or willing to fight," says an aid worker stationed in Kisangani. The UPDF has come under severe criticism both at home and abroad for failing to check the greed of some of its top officers, who have been accused of plund ering Congolese riches rather than fighting the war. Kazini and Museveni's only brother, Salim Saleh, a general in the UPDF, have been singled out in press re ports for the scale of their widespread looting. If the second clash, which is likely to take place in North Kivu, proves to be a more-balanced one - without a clear winner or loser - "it might create som e kind of deterrence," says Fabienne Hara of the International Crisis Group, a Brussels-based think tank. But should this logic of deterrence fail to take hold in Congo, analysts say the chances of an open war between the two are high. The diversion of Ugandan and Rwandan forces from the main front will give President Kabila, who is curre ntly fighting a defensive war for the half of Congo he still controls, a welcom e boost. Depending on the level of hostility generated by the fighting, Uganda may be tempted to recruit Kabila's allies, on the premise, often adopted in African W arfare, that "the enemy of my enemy is my friend." That would leave Rwanda enti rely isolated. By far the worst case scenario, which Rwandan officials are prone to dismiss at this stage, would have Uganda opening up the border it shares with Rwanda t o the Interahamwe - rebels from Rwanda's Hutu ethnic majority, who in 1994 atte mpted to exterminate that country's Tutsi minority, playing a leading role in t he genocide of an estimated 800,000 people. Observers say that a massive infiltration by the Interahamwe into Rwandan te rritory would set the stage for ethnic violence of unimaginable proportions. "I don't believe Museveni would open his border to the Interahamwe. I don't think he would go that far," says one Western analyst. name="s19990928annanwants.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928annanwants.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Washington Times September 28, 1999 Annan Wants A 'Robust Force' For Sierra Leone From combined dispatches NEW YORK Secretary-General Kofi Annan yesterday recommended the establ ishment of a 6,000-strong U.N. peacekeeping force to help implement a July acco rd aimed at ending an eight-year civil war in Sierra Leone. Mr. Annan said the "robust force" called for under the July 7 peace agree ment should include six infantry battalions, each about 750-strong, and should incorporate the U.N. Observer Mission already in Sierra Leone. Mr. Annan's report follows the deployment earlier this month of a U.N. pe acekeeping force to East Timor where militia, backed by Indonesian troops, ramp aged in the wake of an overwhelming vote for independence Aug. 30. Indonesia ha d occupied the former Portuguese colony since 1975. In addition to the East Timor force, there are 16 U.N. peacekeeping or ob server missions worldwide, including troops in Bosnia-Herzegovina, Kosovo, Hait i, Cyprus, Lebanon and the former Soviet republic of Georgia. In his recommendation yesterday, Mr. Annan said the new mission, to be ca lled the United Nations Mission in Sierra Leone (Unamil), would take over the U .N. Observer Mission, Unomsil, only about half of whose authorized 210 observer S currently are deployed. Mr. Annan said he hoped Unamil also would be able to incorporate a substa ntial number of troops from the Economic Community of West African States (ECOW AS). ECOWAS' 12,000-member Nigerian-led Economic Community of West African Stat es Military Observer Group (ECOMOG) is being phased out after serving in Sierra Leone for 2 and-a-half-years. A spokesman for the U.S. mission to the United Nations said they could no t comment on Mr. Annan's recommendation until they had time to study the propos al. "We're just going to have to look at this," the U.S. official said. "It's the first time we've seen numbers this big" for Sierra Leone. The July 7 accord ending Sierra Leone's civil war was signed in Lome, Tog o, by Sierra Leonean President Ahmad Tejan Kabbah and Foday Sankoh, head of the rebel Revolutionary United Front. It followed a conflict that devastated the former British colony and was marked by extreme savagery. Rebels were widely accused of massacring civilians, cutting off limbs and gang-raping children. The agreement included a highly controversial amnesty for the rebels that obliged the U.N. special representative who also signed to disassociate the Un ited Nations from that provision. Mr. Annan said in his report that, without security, it would not be poss ible to carry out a program of disarming and demobilizing approximately 45,000 former combatants, many of them children, and thus remove a threat to the count ry's stability. Mr. Annan said that in addition to the infantry battalions, the force he envisioned entering Sierra Leone would include specialized support units. The S upport units would include logistics, communications, engineering and air and o ther transportation, that would each comprise about 250 troops. A helicopter-bo rne rapid-reaction unit would number about 200, bringing the total of military personnel to about 6,000, Mr. Annan said. "It would be my intention to seek contributions of troops for a significa nt part of the force from ECOWAS countries, in particular those currently contr ibuting to ECOMOG," the secretary-general said. "Such troops could be deployed fairly rapidly to Sierra Leone if they are not already stationed there as part of ECOMOG." The withdrawal of Nigerian troops, who make up the bulk of ECOMOG, began on Aug. 31 but was suspended following a meeting between Nigerian President Olu segun Obasanjo and Mr. Kabbah, Mr. Annan said. But Nigeria had indicated the wi thdrawals would resume in October. The secretary-general also called for the immediate return to Sierra Leon e of Mr. Sankoh, to "assume important functions within the government of Sierra Leone." Mr. Annan said the commitment of Mr. Sankoh and his senior associates, in cluding Johnny Paul Koroma, leader of the Armed Forces Revolutionary Council, t o the Lome agreement was an essential element in its effective implementation. He said much more money would be needed than the $19 million already cont ributed by the international community including $10 million by Britain -- t o a trust fund established by the World Bank to support the disarmament, demobi lization and reintegration of former combatants. While U.N. troops were called for in the Lome accord, Mr. Annan's recomme ndations on the size of the Sierra Leone force comes one week after he told the U.N. General Assembly that national borders should no longer be a deterrent to justified humanitarian intervention. "If states bent on criminal behavior know that frontiers are not an absol ute defense, if they know that the Security Council will take action to halt cr imes against humanity, then they will not embark on such a course of action in expectations of sovereign impunity," he said. "Massive and systematic violations of human rights -- wherever they may t ake place -- should not be allowed to stand." Betsy Pisik contributed to this article in New York. name="s19990928angola.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928angola.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> New York Times September 28, 1999 Angola: Big Army Push The Angolan Army waged a major offensive against a key stron ghold of the rebel Unita movement, which said the town of Bailundo had been vir tually razed and hundreds of civilians had been killed. Gen. João Baptis ta de Matos, the Angolan commander in chief, is leading the operation, an army spokesman said. -(Agence France-Presse) name="s19990928post.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928post.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Los Angeles Times September 25, 1999 Pg. I In Post-Embargo Libya, Terrorism Yields To Tourism By John Daniszewski, Times Staff Writer TRIPOLI, Libya--It's a country of 5 million people with hundreds of mil es of pristine beaches, spectacular unspoiled desert scenery and Roman ruins th at sweep away the centuries. But it does have a small image problem. Libya woul d like to be your tourist destination. Since the country's "revolutionary guide," Moammar Kadafi, agreed in Ap ril to hand over two suspects to stand trial in the 1988 Pan Am jet bombing ove r Lockerbie, Scotland, the U.N. Security Council has lifted the seven-year air embargo on the North African country. Now airlines from a dozen countries are providing regular flights to an d from Libya, and even Libyan Arab Airlines has dusted off its creaky old Boein g 727s and Fokkers for short-haul flights around the Mediterranean. Nevertheless, the country still faces formidable obstacles, not the lea st of which is its reputation as a supporter of international terrorism. (In re ality, diplomats say, Libya hasn't been actively engaged in terrorism for some time and Kadafi has been gradually moderating his radical positions, but the pe rception dies slowly.) Officials talk here of a new climate of openness to the world. For Khal if Abuzeyd, production manager of the National Textile Company, that means drea ms of exporting his company's pajamas and sportswear to Western Europe. For Nou ri Shebani, manager of the Gortoba Center for Rehabilitation of Children, it me ans increased contacts with European specialists on physical and occupational t herapy for youngsters with cerebral palsy. For almost everyone, there is an almost palpable sense of hope that Lib ya's status as a world pariah may be coming to an end now that the Lockerbie su spects are finally going to trial in the Netherlands. "We believe the world needs us and we need the world, just like any oth er country," Shebani said. "We want to be open very much." Kadafi Still Holds Political Reins Politically, Libya is still a one-man band. In theory, Kadafi isn't supposed to have any official executive function, and under the country's uniq ue governing system, which he devised, decisions are supposed to be made by gra ss-roots assemblies in which anyone can participate. In practice, Kadafi presides over an authoritarian state in which, dipl omats believe, he is the only true power center. After three decades in control , he is treated with almost regal deference. His image stares out from building S, fences and lampposts throughout the country. (Usually he's in aviator sungla sses, grimacing solemnly skyward, but sometimes he's on horseback, galloping ou t of the desert.) His exhortations are widely quoted on billboards and placards Despite the ubiquity of the state's propaganda, the vast majority of Li byans don't take it seriously, asserted one longtime resident diplomat. Rather, their eyes are trained on satellite TV broadcasts. With Libya shut off from th e rest of the world for most of this decade by the Security Council's sanctions , those broadcasts have become the Libyans' window to the world. What are Libyans watching? Programs from Italy--Libya's former colonial power--are big, so much so that many Libyan children have taught themselves It alian by watching cartoons. For the adult generation, a spectrum of Italian, French and Spanish cha nnels shows beautiful young women and men dressed in the latest sleek Western f ashions, hinting at the sensuality and sumptuousness of the modern consumer SOC iety. And four or five widely viewed Arabic-language satellite channels offer glimpses of more open societies even within the Arab world. Nightly, they air discussions with political and economic viewpoints that are almost never acknow ledged in Libya's own dull and tightly controlled internal media. Libya's oil income of $7 billion to $10 billion per year ensures a basi c standard of living for the country's small population, but the international television broadcasts convey the notion that there is more to be had and enjoye d elsewhere. And, so, the old revolutionary slogans aren't going down as easily "With the satellite dishes, they can now see everything," one diplomat said. As a result, he said, "To me, they are changing very fast, especially the young generation." Signs of alienation from the regime can be found among the young mercha nts working in the open-air market here in the capital. Anwar, a 27-year-old go Id dealer, was delighted to find a visitor from the United States in his tiny S hop and within minutes was asking for help to obtain a visa. It's not that business isn't good in Tripoli, he conveyed in halting En glish as a steady trickle of customers flowed in to look at the baubles in his glass cases. In fact, every dollar of investment yields two dollars in profit, he claimed. The problem is the police in Libya, he said, who at any moment could CO me and confiscate a rich man's wealth and beat him up in the bargain. Anwar pan tomimed kicking. "In America, you are free," he said wistfully. Others expressed delight that the U.N. sanctions have been lifted and S aid they hope it will lead to more contacts with outsiders. The lifting of the restrictions on air travel already has been of signi ficant benefit to the ordinary Libyan's pocketbook. In the euphoria after the d ecision, the black-market price for dollars fell from 3.2 Libyan dinars to 1.8, reducing the cost of imported goods in the markets by nearly half. But, because the government had long blamed all of the country's econom ic problems on the sanctions, people were expecting even more of a boon. That, in turn, is putting pressure on the government to deliver. "Sanctions were the great excuse for everything that went wrong. That e xcuse is now gone," one Western diplomat said. Hence, Libya is now looking for other revenue sources, and tourism is o ne obvious potential engine for growth. With worldwide travel booming, Libya ho pes to capitalize on the fact that it is something of an undiscovered treasure. "We have an economy with only one leg, petroleum. Now we need the other leg, the tourist business," said one government antiquities official, who aske d not to be identified by name. Travelers from America would be particularly we Icome, he said, despite poor relations between the governments. "Governments ch ange, but people's relationships are lasting," he said. Sandwiched between Egypt and Tunisia, North African countries that have made themselves into popular tourist destinations, Libya says it has assets to rival Tunisia's beaches and Egypt's antiquities. An Ancient City Preserved in Sand Its crown jewel is the ancient Phoenician-Roman city of Leptis Magn a, which in its day had a population of 80,000. For 14 centuries, the seaside c ity was buried in--and preserved by--the blowing sand. Today, several decades a fter its excavation, it is largely intact. Since Libya first began allowing tourists in six years ago, backpackers and adventure travelers from around the world have been quietly making their W ay to Leptis Magna, about a two-hour drive east of Tripoli, to wander its stone streets and explore its Roman baths, temples, amphitheater, marble-lined basil ica and the forum surrounded by carved heads of Medusa. "Now that the blockade is over, it's easier. Leptis Magna is defi nitely worth the trip," said Frank Hering, 32, a visitor from Heidelberg, Germa ny. "It is one of the best Roman sites we've ever seen." Hering and his companion, Ursula Becker, 32, said they were undeterred by Libya's reputation for terrorism when they were planning their two-week jour ney, which included Tripoli, Leptis Magna and the desert settlements of souther n Libya. And they said they would recommend the trip to their friends. "From what we can tell, it's quite calm here," Hering said. And althoug h the accommodations were rudimentary, Hering said he was struck by the overall level of development in Libya. "It's the only country around here," he said, "where you can drink the water from the tap." <a name="s19990928southafrica.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/sI 9990928southafrica.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> New York Times September 26, 1999 Pg. 1 South Africa Army Fights An Enemy Within: Old Hatreds By Rachel L. Swarns BLOEMFONTEIN, South Africa -- In the beginning, they were just two litt le boys who shared the same dream. In his ramshackle township, the black boy strung sticks into pretend pi stols and shouted "Boom, boom, boom!" The white boy pictured himself in spit-sh ined shoes and crisp green uniforms. But under South Africa's white Government, only one of these two strang ers could rise through army ranks. And so while the white boy studied military history, the black boy learned to build bombs, joining an exiled guerrilla army intent on destroying the regime that stifled his ambitions. With the end of apartheid in 1994, the two enemies finally became allie S. The guerrilla, Lieut. Sibusiso Madubela, rejoiced as he donned his army fati gues and tested his military rifle. "We will all be equal now," he told his fam ily proudly. The soldier, Sgt. Eric (Dougie) Douglas, told his relatives he would ca II his black troops "gentlemen." And at the Tempe military base here, they vowe d to fight under one flag, for one country. What they found, however, was that, at the base, some whites and blacks still fought each other. In 1996, a white officer here locked three former freedom fighters in a room and sprayed them with tear gas. In 1998, another white soldier here robbe d and killed two black soldiers who were transporting a truckload of weapons. Lieutenant Madubela told his family he had been stabbed by a white subo rdinate, and treated with disrespect by others who refused to recognize his ran k. And when his pay was docked for overstaying a five-day leave he was granted to attend his father's funeral, he snapped. On Sept. 16, he cocked his rifle and sprayed the base with bullets. He spared more than 20 black soldiers who crossed his path that morning, witnesses say. But when he was done, six white soldiers and a white civilian were dead, including Sergeant Douglas, 29. A seventh soldier, injured in the shooting, die d this week. No one will ever know precisely what touched off the violence -- the tr auma of the integration process, fury over the loss of a sperately needed paych eck, psychological instability or some combination of factors. Lieutenant Madubela, 28, who had a clean military record, died in the g un battle. This week, as weeping families buried their dead and Government officia Is promised a thorough inquiry, the nation embarked on a soul-wrenching debate over the racial transformation of the National Defense Force. Since 1994, more than 22,700 former liberation fighters and black homel and soldiers have been integrated into the military, Government statistics show . The Defense Force, which was then 45 percent white and 38 percent black, with the latter relegated to the lowest ranks, is now less than 31 percent white an d more than 55 percent black, although, for blacks, advancement can still pose problems. Military analysts say the integration process has gone remarkably smoot hly, given the inevitable challenges of merging the white, Afrikaans-speaking c onventional army troops with their former rivals, the black, underground insurg ents. Government officials emphasize, and experts agree, that most of the 80,00 0 men and women in the military serve peacefully and cooperatively. But pockets of tension and resentment clearly remain, particularly amon g soldiers in the lower ranks who are overwhelmingly black, and their supervisi ng officers, who are overwhelmingly white. In a confidential report that became public last year, military officials documented troubling disparities in the d isciplining of black and white soldiers. The officials described "a marked change in attitude toward integration " and "a hardening of attitudes" among top white officials toward former libera tion fighters, who are sometimes viewed as less disciplined than white soldiers These raw issues inevitably resound differently among the friends and m ourners who buried their dead, separately, in their black and white worlds this week. White soldiers carried the coffin of Sergeant Douglas, a rugby player, a carp fisherman and a father of two, into the brown-brick Afrikaner church her e. Inside, the minister preached, the organ wailed and hundreds of white mourne rs wept and sang hymns in Afrikaans. "If something isn't done now about these grudges and tensions, it will happen again," said the dead soldier's widow, Annelize, 24, referring to the bl ack soldiers at Tempe. Across the country, in a township near the east coast town of Umtata, b lack mourners filed into the single-room, tin-roofed shack where Lieutenant Mad ubela grew up. They sang a capella, their voices rising and falling in their Kh osa language, their only accompaniment the murmuring wind and drizzling rain. Th is week, they will dig his grave in the red, rocky soil, just footsteps from th e hut where he was born. "He wanted to love them," said his mother, Tiny Madubela, 59, of the wh ite soldiers at Tempe. "But they would never accept him." Capt. Jan Steenkamp, an officer at Tempe, feels for the families of the dead. Some of his friends were among the slain. He says the debate over integr ation weighs heavier still on the shoulders of soldiers, who must now ask thems elves: Can blacks and whites rely on each other to survive on the battlefield? Captain Steenkamp's aching left arm rested in a sling, with slivers of metal embedded in the shoulder, where Lieutenant Madubela's bullet hit him. He oversees black soldiers, and since the shooting he has been haunted by a gnawin g anxiety. "I've got a lot of guys working for me, a lot of good guys," he said. "B ut they all see how easy it is now. I can't stop wondering, if they develop a p roblem, will they resort to violence?" Tempe is a dusty, wind-blown military base, the second largest in the c ountry. Its motto, emblazoned on a sign above the checkpoint entry, reads, "Tog ether we accomplish more." Blacks make up about 85 percent of the soldiers. They stand guard over the gate in green camouflage fatigues, rifles slung over their shoulders. They address visitors in cheerful Afrikaans, but laugh nervously when asked about ra ce relations. All military personnel, black and white, have been barred from di scussing racial aspects of the shooting and tensions on the base, soldiers say. But military officials have made no secret of the challenges they confr ont as they try to transform the military. Over the last five years, for instance, the Government has embarked on an ambitious program of cultural diversity and civic education. Black and white soldiers watch videos that vividly depict the apartheid regime: the pass laws that restricted blacks from moving freely, the signs that barred nonwhites from bathing on public beaches, and the racist pronouncements of previous Governmen t officials. And they study the new Constitution and aspects of international 1 aw. The Government also offers military training, literacy classes and othe r courses for black soldiers, who were denied those opportunities under white r ule. They offer classes in English, instead of only in Afrikaans, which is view ed by many blacks as the language of oppression. And they have begun translatin g training manuals into English as well, although, some complain, at a slower p ace. Government officials have pledged that within the next few years the de fense force all ranks will more closely mirror the population, which is a bout 76 percent black, 10 percent white, 9 percent mixed race, and 3 percent As ian. Even the changes to date are quite impressive, some analysts say, given th e painful budget cuts and structural reorganization that the military has under gone simultaneously. "I do not believe there is sufficient appreciation for the extent of th e transformation challenge," said Jakkie Cilliers, head of the Institute for Se curity Studies, a Pretoria-based research institution. "It is massive." Thandi Modise, chairwoman of the Parliament's Committee on Defense, sai d the Government was working very hard to propel the pace of change. "Your whole culture of the military is changing," she said in a radio i nterview this week. "It has not fully changed, because otherwise we would not b e having Tempe. But there has been change in the national defense force. It is not adequate. It is still slow, but definitely it is there." In a sense, the killer and his victim had been living out the transform ation. Both were members of the same unit, the First South African Infantry Bat talion, both loved the military, both loved their families. They knew each othe r by sight, but the similarities seem to end there. Sergeant Douglas earned $440 a month, a salary supplemented with income from his wife's job, spent his free time with his wife, son and daughter. Lieutenant Madubela, who with less service time earned about $333 a mon th, could not afford to live in town and rented a room in the nearby black town ship. Relatives said he sent half of his monthly paycheck to support the unempl oyed adults in his family, his parents, his sister, his fiancée and 3-ye ar-old daughter in Umtata, which is an 11-hour bus ride from Bloemfontein. Lieutenant Madubela's white colleagues never dreamed he would become vi olent, but they said he could be difficult. While in exile in Tanzania in the early 1990's, he served as a ground-t o-air missile specialist for the military wing of the Pan Africanist National C ongress. The Congress was known then for its slogan, "One settler, one bullet," meaning that white settlers should be shot. And it sharply criticized the Afri can National Congress for embracing whites, Indians and mixed race voters and d iluting what they insisted was a black nationalist struggle. White soldiers said Lieutenant Madubela never expressed racist views to them, but demanded respect and precise explanations whenever an order was give n. He refused, for instance, to stand when a superior office walked into his of fice. ("He's coming into my office," Lieutenant Madubela said, according to his colleagues. "Why should I stand?") "He was a little bit of a difficult bloke most of the time," said Lieut Col. Jan Wessels, who commands the unit and said he personally liked the lieu tenant. "He would like to challenge authority. He loved doing that. You had to explain every order." Lieutenant Madubela's family said he complained that white soldiers tre ated him with disrespect, that they tried to diminish his authority and often i nsisted on checking on his work. But Colonel Wessels said soldiers in the unit were friendly, like family. He said he never heard racial complaints from black S. "In general, it was not strained at all," he said. "The black people ar e a friendly nation, with a great sense of humor. The moment you start joking, they respond to that. That is the way I perceive most of them. We are busy in t he process of transformation. Everybody knows there will be changes, mind-switc hes we have to make. But this unit was far on the way to making those changes." However, Lieutenant Madubela was about to explode. On Sept. 15, the day before the shooting, he learned that he would not receive his salary for a month. He had been classified as absent without leave for overstaying his visit to Umtata. He was furious, his family said, because he said he had received verbal authorization to extend his leave until his father was buried. Military offici als say they have no record of such authorization. Lieutenant Madubela was angry, the white soldiers said, but rules were rules. No one was surprised to see him storm off. Who would be thrilled to stru ggle for a month without pay? "I asked him, how would we get by without the money?" recalled his 25-y ear-old sister, Grace Nondumiso, describing her last conversation with him. He told her not to worry. And the next morning, he loaded his rifle. a name="s19990928israel.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFThttp://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928israel.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Washington Post September 28, 1999 Pg. 20 Israel Retaliates For Bomb In Lebanon MARJUYUN, Lebanon--Israeli warplanes struck southern Lebanon yesterday after a roadside bomb killed a top official of the pro-Israeli milit ia and seriously wounded his driver, Lebanese security officials said. The Iranian-backed Hezbollah group claimed responsibility for the bombi ng. The roadside attack prompted large-scale Israeli air and ground retaliation Security officials said Israeli warplanes raided suspected guerrilla targets, firing at least 15 air-to-surface missiles at villages in Iqlim al-Tuffah, a g uerrilla stronghold opposite an Israeli-occupied enclave in southern Lebanon. name="s19990928egypt.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928egypt.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> New York Times September 28, 1999 Egypt: Mubarak Re-Elected As expected, President Hosni Mubarak won his fourth six-year term, the Interior Minister said, taking nearly 94 percent of the vote in a re ferendum on his presidency in which he was the only candidate. Mubarak is one o f Washington's closest allies in the Middle East. Opposition groups boycotted t he ballot, calling it a sham and demanding direct, multiparty elections for the presidency. -(AP) <a name="s19990928yeltsin.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928yeltsin.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF=#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Washington Post September 28, 1999 Pg. 20 Yeltsin Moves Ahead On Belarus Merger MOSCOW--President Boris Yeltsin approved a draft agreement o n merging Russia and Belarus and ordered his aides to prepare for public discus sion of the document, the Kremlin said. Russia and Belarus have been discussing a plan to merge. In 1996, Yeltsin and Belarusan President Alexander Lukashenko signed a union agreement, boosting political, economic and military ties betwe en the two nations but stopping short of creating a single state. <a name="s19990928infor.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928infor.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHTA HREF=#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> U.S. News & World Report October 4, 1999 In For A Dime, In For A Dollar? FONT SIZE=4> Washington ups the ante in Colombia's war on drug tra ffickers By. Linda Robinson PUERTO OSPINASgt. Lerma Mezu swings his .50-caliber machine gun from one riverbank to another as his comrades peer over their M-60s into the dense folia ge, fingers tensed on triggers. These Colombian marines are speeding up the wid e, brown Putumayo River for a day's work in the drug- and guerrilla-infested so uthwestern jungle. Their mission: to find and destroy cocaine labs hidden deep in this no man's land. The Riverine Brigade is the first Colombian military uni t to be trained by the U.S. Marines and supplied with surplus U.S. guns, fast b oats, and flak jackets as part of a new push to roll back the country's explodi ng drug industry. No one has to tell them to be on guard; in the town where the y're landing, a fellow marine was killed by the Revolutionary Armed Forces of C olombia, or FARC, last year. As the marines hit the jungle, Colombian President Andrés Pastrana met with President Clinton last week to seek help for his country's mounting c rises. Alarmed by a doubling of coca cultivation and increasingly aggressive Ma rxist rebels, U.S. officials had urged him to come up with a comprehensive stra tegy. Pastrana's response is a three-year plan. It calls for a whopping $3.5 bi Ilionin foreign aidand would draw the United States more deeply into Colombia's drug war. The cornerstone? Some $1.5 billion in U.S. training and equipment fo r the besieged Colombian military and police, on top of $289 million this year. Pastrana would also continue a decade-old drug eradication effort, fund altern ative jobs for poor coca-growing peasants and 1 million people displaced by the 35-year-old war, and shore up an economy mired in its worst recession in 60 ye ars. The economy contracted by 7.6 percent in the second quarter, and investor jitters have sent the Colombian peso down 20 percent against the dollar this ye ar. War talk. Sending U.S. money abroad is rarely popular. But Pastran a, on a quick trip to Capitol Hill, found congressional leaders receptive. U.S. worries go beyond the burgeoning flow of drugs to the faltering of the region' S oldest democracy, the spillover of its conflict into neighboring countries, t he kidnapping of U.S. citizens, and the swelling numbers of Colombians fleeing to the United States. While the administration is prepared to back a substantia 1 aid hike, direct U.S. military involvement is not on the table. Seeking to st op rumors of a possible U.S. intervention, Pastrana said in a U.N. speech last week: "The times of intervention are over. These are times of cooperation." Invasion talk has been fueled by the growing U.S. and Colombian military role in the drug war. Colombia's police have been unable to penetrate the guerr illa-dominated regions where most of the world's coca and a new crop of heroin poppies are grown. Rebels guard coca fields and drug labs and shoot down govern ment helicopters and fumigation planes. So in the past year U.S. marines, Navy SEALs, and Green Berets have begun teaching Colombian military units infantry t actics, assault and infiltration techniques, reconnaissance, and mortar handlin g. A U.S.-supported intelligence center has been set up, and the first of three Army counterdrug battalions has been trained in Colombia by the 7th Special Fo rces Group of Fort Bragg, N.C. In an exercise earlier this month at Tolemaida b ase, 70 miles south of Bogotá, members of the 931-man battalion scramble d out of a Blackhawk helicopter shooting blanks, smoke bombs, and mock mortars at "narcotraffickers" dressed in blue pants and white T-shirts, as music blared over loudspeakers. There's no music where they're headed, however. The newly trained antidru g troops will be deployed in December to Putumayo, the epicenter of new coca cu Itivation. As the Riverine Brigade has discovered, the line between fighting dr ugs and rebels here is murky. FARC rebels are so involved in the drug business that the commander of the main Navy base, Capt. Amaury Peniche, bluntly calls t hem "a cartel." He says they control refining labs and have begun forcing coca growers to sell only to their collection centers. The Marine unit here struggle S to patrol 3,100 miles of rivers with just 28 boats and has so little gas that its generators run only nine hours a day. Minutes after the marines dock at Puerto Ospina, Maj. Humberto Serna outl ines the day's operation and leads two platoons on a grueling march into the th ick jungle. Sucking mud grips the men's boots as they hump quickly along a trai 1 tangled with vines and roots, sweating profusely as the tropical heat mounts. "Chiqui," one of the masked informants who were brought along as guides, says the FARC'S finance unit comes every 90 days to collect 50,000 pesos ($27) from each coca grower. No one knows if guerrillas are nearby today, but the safety i S switched off every M-16 and Galil rifle. They spot the first lab, a rough WOO den hut surrounded by coca bushes. The men on point race over the hill after la b workers who have already fled. "If we had helicopters, we could make lightnin g strikes and catch more people," mutters Serna. "The Holy Spirit. " Leaving a platoon to guard the drums of liquid cocaine and bag of chemicals, the lead unit plunges deeper into the rain forest , once pristine but now pocked by fields of burned trees where coca shoots spro ut. Up ahead the marines fire a shot to signal that they've captured someone, S ince their Motorola UHF radios don't work in the rolling terrain. Calling in ai r support is not an option. "We're protected by the Holy Spirit in front of us and the Holy Trinity behind," jokes Serna grimly, as a torrential downpour turn S the trail to shin-deep mud. Crossing a log over a rushing river, the men reach a large compound divid ed into sleeping rooms and a covered porch, where coca leaves are steeped in ac etylene alcohol. They find 320 gallons of liquid cocaine waiting to be distille d, coca leaves, and tanks of chemicals. Other than some chickens, pigs, and two dogs, the place is deserted. The troops take logbooks from the house and fill vials and baggies with drug samples, then spill the noxious mixture out of the drums and ignite it. A tremendous explosion shoots flames and billowing black S moke into the sky. "We don't burn houses, but this one's attached so there's no way around it," Serna says as he records the location with his global position ing system device. The scouts, meanwhile, have discovered a third lab, where a barking dog 1 eads them to a man who denies any knowledge of the drug activities. After his p hoto is found in the house, he pleads that he was laid off from his lumberyard job. "They all have similar stories," Serna sighs. "They can't find jobs, so th ey come here. There's no other work." The platoon, tired and hungry, returns to torch the first lab, then races through the hills and drenching rain to the boats. Navigating the log-strewn r iver at night is too risky, and even in daylight they ran aground twice, so as the sun sets they string hammocks behind two rows of troops guarding their peri meter. Right across the river in Ecuador, armed men believed to be FARC rebels have just kidnapped 12 foreigners, including one American oil worker. Serna tel Is the soldiers to look sharp. "We gave them some hard hits today, so they will be looking to hit back," he says. They've destroyed the equivalent of 170 kilo S of refined cocaine today, adding to the 2,400 kilos of coca paste, 26 labs, a nd $100,000 in drug cash the brigade has seized in its first month. Daisy chain. The United States would like to draw a neat line betw een the drug and guerrilla wars, but the men on the ground know the FARC will c ome after them since they are challenging their control of the region and a dru g business that finances their war. Indeed, the FARC issued a communiqué last week denouncing the U.S.-Colombian drug war as a ruse to make war on them Colombian Defense Minister Luís Fernando Ramírez says U.S.-trai ned troops are authorized to go after rebels they encounter or who threaten the m, even though the United States insists that its aid is strictly for counterna rcotics efforts. The reality is that Colombia's problems can't be parsed. "It's a daisy chain," says former U.S. Ambassador to Colombia Myles Frechette. "Ever ything is connected to everything elsedrugs, guerrillas, kidnaps, paramilitarie S, refugees We finally recognize that there's no quick fix." Success in the drug war hinges on Colombia's ability to gain control over its territory. How? "Insurgencies tend to be resolved at the bargaining table. The question is how Colombia is going to achieve a position of strength at the bargaining table," says Gen. Charles Wilhelm, chief of the U.S. military's Sou thern Command. "My own feeling is that they need the leverage of improved perfo rmance on the battlefield." The Army has less than a 2-to-1 ratio of combat troops to rebels, and few er helicopters than the police, so it will be sorely tempted to use the antidru g units to turn the tide. A senior U.S. official doesn't see a problem since U. S. troops won't be involved. "The concern in the public is escalation," he says , ,"getting ourselves involved in an insurgency, and that, I think, is not where we are going." If only one could predict where mission creep stops. name="s19990928killed.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928killed.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Washington Post September 28, 1999 Pg. 20 7 Killed In Colombian Rebel Stronghold BOGOTA, Colombia--At least seven people, including women and children, were murdered in the oil refining town of Barrancabermeja in northwe stern Colombia, officials said. Acting Mayor Juan Carlos Sierra said hooded and heavily armed gunmen dragged the victims out of their homes in a working-class neighborhood and shot them. The town, which has a history of violence, has long been considered a S tronghold of Marxist guerrillas eager to maintain a foothold in the country's m ain oil center. More recently, ultra-right death squads--backed by the military , according to human rights groups--have moved in. a name="s19990928army.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1. 9990928army.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Army Times October 4, 1999 Pg. 62 Time For The Army To Resolve To Shed Some Extra Weight By Dov Zakheim In the late 1970s, Army Chief of Staff Gen. Edward Meyer designated the Army's Second Division an experimental unit, designed to test concepts of fast -paced operations outside Europe that would demand a lighter, more flexible, mo re deployable Army. Two decades later, in the aftermath of the Kosovo air war, Gen. Dennis Reimer, the Army's outgoing chief of staff, spoke of the need for a lighter, mo re flexible, more deployable Army. Other than accommodating a 33 percent declin e in end strength, nothing much seems to have happened to the Army's table of o rganization and equipment during the intervening years. The Army continues to be a cumbersome, overly bureaucratized organizati on that, despite force reduction, is too large and unwieldy for the military ch allenges it is likely to face in the early years of the next century. As the fiasco of the Apache helicopter deployment to Albania amply demo nstrated, the Army simply has neither the orientation nor the facility to deplo y its units rapidly in an evolving environment that does not match its traditio nal concept of operations. The Apaches that deployed to Tirana, Albania, were piloted by crews inc apable of providing the close fire support that NATO required because they coul d not operate in an environment that was bereft of friendly ground maneuver uni ts. The crews had to undergo two additional weeks of training in Albania, and S till were not called into action. Their commanders did not trust the self-defense equipment available to them, and they feared being shot down by Serb antiaircraft fire. Ultimately, th e Apaches never saw combat. Twenty years ago, critics of the tank-heavy Army were calling for the i ntroduction of new, lighter armored vehicles, 20-ton tanks that could fire depl eted uranium rounds. These tanks would be rapidly transportable by C-130 cargo aircraft, which number in the hundreds, and by the far smaller fleet of C-17s a nd C-5s. Moreover, the lighter tanks could be deployed in tandem aboard the larg er cargo lifters. Yet the light tank remains an idea, at best a design, rather than an actual program. Twenty years ago the Army cautiously began to experiment with designs f or what were then termed Remotely Piloted Vehicles. Beginning with the ill-fate d Aquila, Army unmanned aerial vehicle programs have not been a resounding succ ess. It was the Air Force's Predator that earned kudos in Kosovo. The Army's record in fielding ground-to-air systems likewise is mixed a t best. After much resistance, the Army accepted in the mid-1980s that the Patr iot, an air defense system, should also serve as an antimissile system. It was only after the Patriot's limitations were seen during the Persian Gulf War that the Army began seriously to upgrade its theater missile defense capabilities. Even so, the Army's Medium Extended Air Defense System has foundered (i t is currently being revamped), in the tradition of earlier Army air defense fl ops such as the Sergeant York gun and the U.S. version of the Roland missile. The Army's highest priority procurement is the Comanche helicopter, whi ch is essentially a modification of a Cold War design that called for a scout h elicopter to accompany the Apache. There is no real thrust toward a smaller, li ghter Army. Even force structure reductions have not changed the essential nature o f the Army's division-based system, which itself is a modernized throwback to N apoleon's Grande Armée. It is not at all clear that the United States continues to require a la rge, heavy Army whose 10 divisions are not significantly fewer than the 13 that constituted the Army of the 1970s, when the Cold War's end seemed a distant dr eam. Nor is it clear that the Army of the next decade needs as many heavy ta nks as it did when Meyer established his experimental division. Nor should the Army remain wedded to ground operations that were the stuff of field manuals a decade or more ago. There is little doubt that the Army of the future will be needed to do more than just conduct peacekeeping operations in the aftermath of Air Force vi ctories. But that Army needs to be smaller, faster and more flexible -- able to meet the demands of contingencies whose nature as well as locale cannot easily be foretold. In other words, it must be an Army that can be called upon not only to deploy its forces to a combat theater, but also to employ them in novel ways fo r which the Cold War, and even the Gulf War, afford neither precedent nor examp le. <|> Dov Zakheim, U.S. deputy undersecretary of defense under Presiden t Reagan, is chief executive officer of SPC International Corp., Arlington, Va. name="s19990928shaping.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928shaping.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Boston Globe September 27, 1999 Pg. 19 Shaping The Next World Order By James P. Pinkerton What's the New World Order going to look like? Nearly a decade after Pr esident Bush first used the phrase, its theory is still being debated from New York to Washington to Brussels, and its practice is being tested right now in I raq, Kosovo, and East Timor. On Monday, United Nations Secretary General Kofi Annan gave a speech to the General Assembly, which will someday be remembered as a critical turn in th e debate over shaping this New Order. Put simply, the world's top diplomat also wants to be the world's policeman. Although few Americans are paying attention, the debate over the politic al economy of the next century is being contoured now. Those who are engaged in that struggle will do the shaping; those who ignore it will wake up shaped. The emerging New World Order that Annan envisions will be built upon pre vious concepts of world order from the right and the left. The first attempt to define a New Order came in 1776. In that year, Tho mas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence and Adam Smith wrote "An I nquiry Into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations." Together, the two works made the case for limited government and laissez-faire capitalism; the E nglish-speaking world was first inspired and then enriched. The second attempt to create a New Order came in 1848, when Karl Marx pu blished the Communist Manifesto. Whereas Jefferson and Smith had emphasized ind ividual freedom, Marx argued that the workers of the world could find freedom o nly within the collective. It was not until the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917 th at Marxism was tried out. It quickly became apparent that communism could not W ork without totalitarianism; even the watered-down version, socialism, suffered under hamfisted bureaucracy. And so capitalism triumphed over communism. Yet the impulse - the sense that humankind has a common destiny - was not crushed completely; nonmarket org anizations such as the UN flourish because they help preserve stability. And ev en archcapitalists saw the utility of planet-spanning entities such as the Inte rnational Monetary Fund and the World Trade Organization. Yet the economic integration of the planet created more than just a mark et of 6 billion people; it has also created a new collective consciousness. Wor Id public opinion is at the heart of the emerging New Order. But while the inte rnational community mobilizes on behalf of everything from pollution to fair la bor standards, the core cause remains the prevention of aggression and genocide In 1990, Bush mobilized the United Nations against Iraq's invasion of Kuwait; yet by contrast, in 1994, Clinton blocked intervention in Rwanda. Then, in 199 5, in another reversal Clinton and the UN agreed to intervene in Bosnia. It is against this uneven backdrop that Annan gave his order-pushing spe ech. The UN chief made two arguments: First, "The world cannot stand aside whe n gross and systematic violations of human rights are taking place," and secon d, "Intervention must be based on legitimate and universal principles." Annan 's point was that national sovereignty should yield to international supervisio n, and that the supervisors should work for the UN, not for individual countrie S, such as the United States, or even for smaller transnational organizations, such as NATO. The next day, Clinton spoke to the UN and did what he does best: He agre ed with his critics. Having apologized for not helping Rwanda, he defended NATO 's solo intervention in Kosovo and praised the UN's intervention in East Timor; then he endorsed Annan's call for an even stronger UN. And so the debate over the Next World Order gains momentum. The New York Times editorialized in favor of Annan: "It is often in the American interest to be one participant among many in a well-designed UN peacekeeping force rathe r than face constant pressure to lead an intervention or go in alone." Yet the United States is not about to surrender its sovereignty to the U N; Clinton can't even persuade the Republican Congress to pay America's full UN dues. But the New Order of world opinion and world mobilization is on the hori zon. And when it arrives, it will, like the orders before it, hit with the forc e of an idea whose time has come. <|> James P. Pinkerton is a columnist for Newsday. a name="s19990928showing.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928showing.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> San Diego Union-Tribune September 27, 1999 Showing Some Spine On Defense Spending By James O. Goldsborough, The San Diego Union-Tribune When the House Appropriations Committee axed the F-22, the Air Force's pr ize fighter, two months ago, committee members knew they were in for a fight. T he Clinton administration and the Senate want the F-22, even at $68 billion, an d no industry lobbies harder than defense. Now, C.W. Bill Young, R-Fla., the Appropriations Committee chairman, unde r pressure from GOP leaders, has caved. The man who rejected the F-22 eight wee ks ago now says, "it would be crazy to start with a new airplane because we've gotten so far with the F-22." What's crazy is Young's switch. The Pentagon wants three new, short-range tactical fighters at a total cost of $350 billion, or 20 percent of the total current annual federal budget. But we don't need all three, and Congress' Gener al Accounting Office now clearly believes the F-22 is the one that should go. Young's switch notwithstanding, the battle isn't lost. The House Appropri ations Committee action took people by surprise. Congress, which often sees wea pons as jobs programs, is not known for saying no to defense contractors and lo bbyists. The committee has had to do some educating. The key educator has been Rep. Jerry Lewis, R-Riverside, chairman of the Defense Subcommittee of the Appropriations Committee. Lewis says the Pentagon i S being greedy and needs to reassess its priorities. He condemns the F-22 as no t only too expensive and dangerously over budget, but unnecessary. "The whole r eason for its existence potential emergence of a new generation Soviet fight er -- has evaporated." The fight over the F-22 is not between hawks and doves, conservatives and liberals. The GOP spokesmen on defense in both Houses -- people like Reps. You ng and Lewis and Sens. Ted Stevens and John Warner -- all tend to be hawks. The battle is between those who would give the Pentagon carte blanche and those who won't. The unanimous vote against the F-22 by members of Lewis' subc ommittee shows that a growing number of members agree with the GAO that the Pen tagon "needs to bring its aircraft investment strategy into line with more real istic, long-term projections of overall defense funding." The Pentagon has been painfully slow to adapt to the post-Cold War enviro nment, and President Clinton has done nothing to help it adapt, preferring to I eave decisions to Defense Secretary Bill Cohen, who has not been an innovative executive. Study after study points to a world in the coming century that will be ma rked by regional flare-ups, rapid interventions and conflicts such as the Persi an Gulf War and Kosovo, ones involving smart munitions and stand-off weaponry. Yet the Pentagon still seeks massive funds for weapons obsolete the day they ar e finished. One of Lewis' main criticisms is that the Pentagon has been too wil ling to sacrifice military readiness and pay raises to big weapons systems. The Pentagon does not deserve all the blame. Congress often buys weapons the Pentagon doesn't want, like more LHD-8 small aircraft carriers built in Maj ority Leader Trent Lott's home state of Mississippi. Rep. Jack Kingston, R-Ga., has led the fight to build the F-22 because it would be built by Lockheed Mart in in his home state. The B-2 bomber and Seawolf submarine, two mammothly expen sive Cold War relics that will have little usefulness in the 21st Century, stil I have their congressional jobs champions. The two fighter programs competing directly with the F-22 are the Navy's F/A-18E-F, already in production, and the Joint Strike Fighter. The JSF will se rve the Air Force, Navy and Marines when it goes in production and will be prod uced in the thousands, both for U.S and Allied forces. All three are air superiority fighters. The Navy plane, an upgraded versi on of the existing F-18, is too far along to be stopped, and the JSF is the fig hter of the future. The F-22 should have been stopped five years ago when its c ost overruns first became apparent and its utility began seriously to be questi oned. Without leadership from the Clinton administration, nothing was done. Eve n as F-22 costs escalated to $200 million per unit five times the price of t he F-15 it is to replace -- the administration raised no questions. Even as it became apparent only a few hundred F-22s would ever be built, raising questions about an air strategy dependent on relatively few, exorbitantly expensive airc raft, the Administration was silent. Lewis gets the credit for bringing this extravagance to national attentio n. He held wide-ranging interviews with Pentagon officials, former and present, civilian and military. He told them that caps put in place to balance the fede ral budget meant everyone's wish list had to be trimmed, Pentagon included. Lew is asked where they would make the cuts. He was told to look at plans for three fighters. The other thing driving Lewis and other critics has been the Pentagon's lowness to recognize the changing security environment in its budget requests. Munitions are taking the place of aircraft; pilotless and stand-off weapons rep lacing air combat. The major threat in the gulf war and Kosovo was from ground artillery, not enemy aircraft. Had there been enemy aircraft, they would have b een no match for existing F-15s and F-16s. Lewis asked why we needed three new air superiority aircraft in the new e nvironment. In public, the Pentagon said we did, but in private he got a differ ent answer. The F-22 is a test. If government solves the problem the usual way cut ting production, driving up unit costs and robbing money from useful military p rograms -- it will reproduce the spending habits that gave us a generation of b udget deficits. Now that we have a surplus, the question is, can we keep it? Le wis shows a way. <a name="s19990928humanitarian.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Providence Journal-Bulletin September 24, 1999 Pg. 6B Humanitarian Relief Or War Without End By David Rieff SECRETARY-GENERAL Kofi Annan's speech opening the 54th meeting of the U.N. General Assembly offered a sober and convincing analysis of the contradic tions the world faces in this era of humanitarian emergencies. He rightly noted that to intervene without Security Council sanction, as NATO did in Kosovo, is to flout international law. At the same time, pointi ng to the shameful inaction in Rwanda, he took pains to acknowledge that leavin g matters up to the Security Council is inviting future Rwandas and Kosovos. Th ere is, after all, no consensus among the permanent members on the need to inte rvene in the case of gross human-rights violations or even genocide. Laying out this dilemma was extremely valuable, especially in the aft ermath of the United Nations' failed diplomatic efforts in East Timor and its S ubsequent recourse to armed force. Unfortunately, as he has so many times in hi S tenure, Annan showed himself to be far better at describing problems than at offering solutions that amount to more than pious hopes for some utopian transf ormation in world affairs. He called for "a new commitment to intervention" - one that would be consistent and thus presumably applied not just occasionally but "in Kosovo and Sierra Leone, in East Timor and in Angola." Of course, were such a policy to b e put into effect, the world would enter an age of humanitarian war with no his torical parallel. Worse still, by equating East Timor, whose rightful independence was usurped by the Indonesian invasion in 1975, or Kosovo, where the Milosevic regi me was trying to eradicate an entire people, with the Angolan and Sierra Leonea n conflicts, which are authentic civil wars, Annan oversimplifies the problem t he world faces at a moment when the ability to make distinctions between crises is more important than ever. No matter what one thought of the Chechen separat ist war against Russia, for example, it was an internal conflict that could not be compared to the horrors of the Rwandan genocide. Then there is the secretary-general's insistence on the effectiveness of "early warning, preventive diplomacy, preventive deployment and preventive disarmament" as alternatives to direct military intervention. Early warning of potential crises is rarely a factor. To know something and to know what to do a bout it are not the same thing. The United Nations was well aware that things W ere likely to go wrong in East Timor after the plebiscite on independence. Preventive diplomacy is a very unreliable instrument, as the inabilit y of the original peace talks to stave off the crisis in Kosovo demonstrated. A nd since preventive deployment and preventive disarmament will generally requir e putting peacekeeping troops at risk, they are in fact subsets of military int ervention. If Annan really believes that "massive and systematic violations of h uman rights wherever they make take place should not be allowed to stand," then his speech is nothing less than a call to war and, given the sad realities of our world, virtually to war without end. Perhaps the kinds of horrors now takin g place all over the world make such a future morally imperative. There have be en times when this has seemed to be the view of some human rights groups. But i t would be a dangerous crusade precisely because, in principle at least, there are no limits to it. Given these concerns and the sheer unreality of the secretary-general 's suggestion that the Security Council could become "the defender of the commo n interest" (or even that it might find enough common ground to support interve ntions on any kind of just or consistent basis), interventions would be better left to states or coalitions of the willing. Despite Annan's call for "a new, more widely conceived definition of national interest," national interest construed in the traditional sense offers much more promise in curtailing the worst disasters of our era. East Timor provides a good example. No peacekeepers would have gone t here without Australian pressure and leadership. Yet Australia, while certainly motivated by moral concern, was also acting in its interest in stopping confli ct in a neighboring state and preventing a flood of refugees to its shores. Sim ilarly, NATO's action in Kosovo should be viewed not as some morally dubious Eu rocentric exercise, but as Europe's putting out a fire in its own backyard. It is wrong, at least absent a world government or a United Nations a rmy, to expect the people far away from a crisis to be willing to make great sa crifices to stop it. But it is not unrealistic to expect neighbors to help neig hbors. That course offers a realistic prospect of peace. <|> David Rieff is the author of Slaughterhouse: Bosnia and the Fai lure of the West. name="s19990928china.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928china.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> St. Louis Post-Dispatch September 25, 1999 If China Really Is Building Carriers, It's A Big Mistake By Harry Levins A publication called Navy News & Undersea Technology recently quote di "intelligence community officials" in Washington as saying that China was com mitted to building the first in what could be a flotilla of aircraft carriers. If it's true, a simple but grand question arises: Why? The answer would seem to be, "To provide targets for the United States N avy." Consider some basics about aircraft carriers: * Carriers are expensive. The story in Navy News puts the price tag for China's carrier at $600 million - a pittance next to a $5 billion Nimitz-class carrier, but a huge investment for a nation still working its way out of the Th ird World. And the expense goes beyond money. Designing, building and manning an ai rcraft carrier would drain the cream of China's technicians. China would get a much better return on its educational investment by tu rning these folks loose on, say, consumer electronics - a fact surely considere d in Beijing. * Carriers are cost-inefficient. A carrier the size of the vessel they'r e said to be planning in China would carry only three dozen planes. Plane for p lane, China would be sticking itself with the world's most expensive airstrip. Land-based aircraft or sub-launched cruise missiles, no matter how expen sive, would make a lot more sense. * Carriers are fragile. American carriers surround themselves with guide d-missile cruisers and anti-submarine destroyers, and they cram their flight de cks with fighter-interceptors. A carrier task force looks imposing, until you realize that almost all o f it is meant to protect the carrier and its few dozen light bombers, not to pu nish the enemy. Pitting American planes and attack subs against a Chinese carri er would be a most unfair fight. * Carriers take time. It's not just the time to build them; it's also th e time to learn how to make them work. The United States has been operating carriers for about 70 years - three or four generations of sailors. By now, carrier operations have lodged in the U.S. Navy's heart and soul. China would be starting from scratch. Even it had three or four carriers at sea in a decade or so, that doesn't mean they'd be worth a damn. Carrier av iation is an exceedingly tricky business. The U.S. Navy has mastered it. Hardly anybody else has any idea how to do it. * The carrier's day may be over. Like everybody else, admirals gear up f or the last war. The U.S. Navy entered World War II with the battleship at its core. It came out of WWII built around the carrier. Now, almost 60 years later, the carrier remains the Navy's pride and joy But some people think the submarine has long since taken center stage, even t hough we can't know for sure without another big naval war. So why the big flap about the possibility of Chinese carriers? I think t he Chinese would do us a favor by saddling themselves with the things. If you're of a cynical bent, you might think the U.S. Navy is hoping tha t China goes into the carrier business. After all, the U.S. Navy hasn't has a worthy foe since October 1944. Tha t's when the Navy sank what was left of the Japanese navy in the Battle of Leyt e Gulf. Ever since, the pecking order among the world's navies has been the U.S. Navy, and then nobody, and then nobody, and then all the rest. That's great fo r the Navy's self-esteem but bad for its budget. Without a naval enemy to speak of, why build a huge U.S. Navy? That's why I'm leery of these scare stories about Chinese carriers. The stories mesh just a bit too snugly with the Navy's wish to maintain ⑉ maybe eve n expand - its own fleet of carriers. <a name="s19990928panama.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928panama.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Forbes October 4, 1999 Pg. 41 Commentary On Events At Home And Abroad Panama, The Canal And China By Caspar W. Weinberger THE PANAMA CANAL, open to all shipping since the U.S. completed it in 1 914, will be handed over to Panama on Dec. 31, 1999. As a result of our 1977 tr eaty, we will also withdraw our troops from Panama by year's end. Last May, in anticipation of the treaty deadline, we closed Howard Air Force Base, from which we staged more than 2,000 antidrug flights per year. We have also closed Rodman Naval Station, where our antidrug units for boat search es were based, and Fort Sherman, where we conducted much needed jungle-warfare training. Some have said the canal is not as important to the U.S. as it used to be. We need only look at statistics and strategic concerns to refute that point We save millions of hours and dollars each year by having our naval vessels a nd supplies for all the services sail through the canal rather than around Cape Horn. As Professor John J. Tierney of Boston University's Institute of World P olitics points out in a recent Heritage Foundation article, more than 15% of al 1 goods imported into and exported from the U.S. pass through the canal, includ ing 40% of our grain exports. But the Administration's approach is "Why worry?"; a companion treaty W ith Panama states that the U.S. retains the right to protect and defend the can al after 2000, as well as the right to negotiate the continued stationing of U. S. troops in Panama. But treaty rights have been taken away before, and negotia tions to put in troops have, so far, gone nowhere--this, when Panama's governme nt has said it is "not in a condition to undertake a battle in the field with a ny group." Mireya Moscoso de Grubar, Panama's new president, has shown interest in joint U.S.-Panama patrols to protect the canal after 2000. The Administrati on should pursue this opportunity with great vigor--but so far has not. The biggest threat to the canal is that in 1997 Panama granted a subsid iary of Hong Kong-based Hutchison Whampoa Ltd. a 25-year concession to operate the canal's Atlantic and Pacific entrances at Balboa and Cristobal. (The U.S. c laims the contract is improper because we entered a higher bid, but nothing has been done about this.) According to Professor Tierney, Hutchison has close tie S to Beijing and the People's Liberation Army (PLA), although Hutchison denies this. Hutchison has also acquired the right to lease Rodman Naval Base and to" transfer contract rights" to other countries--Cuba or Iraq, for example. Legislators have raised concerns about Hutchison's chairman, Li Ka-shin g, and his ties to the Chinese Communist Party and the PLA. As Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott (R-Miss.) noted, "U.S. naval ships will be at the mercy of Ch inese-controlled pilots and could even be denied passage through the canal by H utchison, an arm of the PLA." An additional concern is Hutchison's growing prof ile in the U.S. It recently agreed to pay $957 million to increase its stake in VoiceStream Wireless, a U.S. cellular company. Retired Army General George Joulwan, former chief of the U.S. Southern Command, has said, "This is absolutely not the time to leave Panama." The Admin istration, however, has issued bland reassurances: *We do not see the Chinese-owned port facilities as a military or natio nal security threat; *Our treaty guarantees that the canal will continue to be operated in a neutral manner; *We could reopen the canal in the event of an emergency; *Any company operating the Atlantic and Pacific gateways can only load or unload containers and move them across the isthmus but can't stop or impede traffic through the canal. Unless, of course, the company wanted to and for some trumped-up reason closed the canal to U.S. traffic. Hutchison is not the first Chinese company to try to gain a foothold in a vital U.S. area. The China Ocean Shipping Co. (Cosco) attempted to lease a t erminal at our now-closed Long Beach Naval Station. Only the vigilance of Repre sentative Duncan Hunter (R-Calif.) persuaded Congress to deny President Clinton the right to approve such a lease. Cosco has a long record of being "an arm of the Chinese military establishment," and worse, according to the House's Task Force on Terrorism. The future security of the U.S. requires continuous vigilan ce and consideration of worst-case scenarios--not political efforts to make eve ryone feel good. a name="s19990928quietly.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1. 9990928quietly.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Boston Globe September 25, 1999 Pg. 23 Quietly Defusing The Nuclear Threat By Yevgeni Petrovich Maslin and Harold P. Smith Jr. On June 16, without ceremony, at the Russian Embassy in Washington, Rus sia and the United States agreed to continue for seven more years the Cooperati ve Threat Reduction agreement, also known as the Nunn-Lugar program. The umbrella agreement, under which the US Defense Department assists R ussia in dismantling its strategic arsenal in accordance with bilateral and int ernational agreements, was signed on the last possible day. Such brinkmanship W ith a program that benefits both countries and is untainted by missing funds wa S both unfortunate and predictable. NATO bombing during the Kosovo campaign inflicted significant damage to the Russian-American bilateral relationship. At one point the Russian leadersh ip questioned the necessity of continuing cooperation on nuclear threat reducti on. The Russian legislature and executive consistently proposed to freeze or bu ry the program. Some program components, albeit the less important ones, were a ctually suspended for a brief period. However, even when the tensions in bilate ral relations reached their climax and when it seemed that bilateral contacts e stablished in late 1980s and early 1990s were falling to pieces, implementation continued with few exceptions at its pre-determined pace. The Nunn-Lugar progr am has become one of the few elements of the partnership to withstand the test of Kosovo. Since its inception in 1991, almost a billion dollars has been spent in Russia alone, and Congress is likely to appropriate a half-billion more for th e coming fiscal year, with the expectation that such funding is likely to conti nue. No one should be surprised by this: The program is in the best interests o f both countries and, indeed, the world. The program is past the suspicions that American equipment would be use d to transport Russian weapons. More to the point, we are safely past the dange rs surrounding the unique and massive movement of nuclear weapons throughout Ru ssia that occurred at the same time the Chechen conflict was escalating. Under the framework of Nunn-Lugar, the United States provided rail car modifications, special containers, bulletproof blankets, and emergency systems to respond to potential accidents, and much more to ensure the safe movement of nuclear weapo ns under the new challenge of nuclear terrorism. All weapons had to be accounte d for, whether in transit or in storage. None could be allowed to fall into una uthorized hands. So far, none have. Could Russia have solved the problem on its own? Perhaps, but it would have required titanic efforts under the challenging conditions of Russia's fina ncial-economic situation. Russia has thousands of nuclear weapons stored in many sites, far remov ed from the centers of power, where their security relies on the capability, in tegrity, and equipment of soldiers who are guarding the weapons under difficult conditions. Before the year is out, the two countries will inaugurate the Secu rity Assessment and Training Center at Sergiev Posad, near Moscow, to further e quip the sites and train the soldiers. All possible steps will be taken to ensu re that the guards are able, well equipped, trained, and reliable. In so doing, the Americans can learn much from their Russian counterparts that will benefit safe storage of nuclear weapons in the United States. Russia and the United States have a rich agenda for threat reduction. B y 2007, one thousand ICBMs and 500 silos should be eliminated, and one hundred bombers and 700 SLBMs dismantled. The fissile material storage facility at Maya k in the Urals should become operational. In two nuclear cities, Zheleznogorsk and Seversk, reactor cores should be converted in a manner that will provide ne eded commercial power without producing weapons-grade plutonium. But no program, no matter how beneficial, can live apart from political reality. Even though the Nunn-Lugar program has built, sometimes painfully ove r the past half dozen years, a cadre of knowledgeable and trusting colleagues, it remains only a stroke of the pen away from cancellation. Both countries must strive to avoid invoking politics in the program. Tactical reactions should no t hamper movement toward strategic goals. If we are not circumspect, the tactic S of presidential and legislative elections in either country can place impossi ble demands upon Cooperative Threat Reduction and sour fragile relationships. A strategic victory of safer nuclear weapons can still be lost to the tactics of parochial interest. At a time when events have impacted the bilateral agenda and the focus of officials in Moscow and Washington is on other concerns, it is important to find bridges that will lead to a sound and productive relationship between the nuclear superpowers. While the world waits for further arms reduction and resol ution of the ABM Treaty, the steady accomplishments of the Nunn-Lugar program c an be an important basis for resuming dialogue. The threat reducation effort sh ould not be the plaything of brinkmanship. It should be a bridge that leads to an improving relationship that benefits all parties. <|> Colonel General Yevgeni Petrovich Maslin is formerly responsible for the nuclear weapons program in Russia. Harold P. Smith Jr. is former assistant to the secretary of defense for nuclear, chemical, and biological defense prog rams. name="s19990928conventional.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFThttp://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928conventional.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Los Angeles Times September 26, 1999 Conventional Terrorism Still Works By Bruce Hoffman WASHINGTON--Five bombings in four weeks. The targets: a downtown shoppi ng mall, a military housing complex and three apartment buildings. The victims: civilians or the families of serving military personnel either asleep in their beds or out window-shopping on a pleasant summer day. The death toll: at least 350 persons, with scores more injured and maimed. The perpetrators: unknown. T he reason for the attacks: unclear. Welcome to terrorism, 21st century-style. At a time when the United States is obsessed with more exotic threats 1 ike bioterror, cyberterror and agroterror, these incidents in Russia and Dagest an underscore how terrorists can still achieve their dual aim of fear and intim idation through conventional means and traditional methods: using bombs to blow things up. This has important implications for U.S. counterterrorism preparedn ess. As fanatical and irrational as terrorists often appear, they remain remark ably conservative operationally, adhering to the same uncomplicated weapons and tactics upon which they have relied for more than a century. In other respects, too, the string of deadly explosions that has convul sed Russia and attracted worldwide attention is not without precedent. Nor can it be written off as some isolated phenomenon, inspired by recondite historical enmities and emanating from an obscure corner of the globe. Rather, the bombin gs conform to a pattern of terrorism evident throughout the 1990s: The most hei nous and lethal attacks, those directed against civilians, go unclaimed. This development is in marked contrast to the modus operandi of the fir st generation of modern terrorists who surfaced during the 1970s and 1980s. The y not only proudly claimed credit for particularly bloody attacks, but generall y issued detailed, overwrought and overwritten communiques explaining precisely why they had carried out their operations. With few exceptions, the vast major ity of terrorist incidents perpetrated between 1969-89 and that produced large casualties were all claimed. For example, the series of suicide bombings carrie d out against U.S. diplomatic and military targets in Lebanon, and in Kuwait du ring 1983 and 1984, causing nearly 400 deaths, were claimed by Islamic Jihad. True, a large number of terrorist attacks have gone unclaimed. Accordin g to a Rand report published in 1985, upward of 60% of international terrorist incidents recorded between 1980-82, and 39% of those that occurred in the 1970s , were never claimed. But significant as these percentages may be in the aggreg ate, they apply more to garden-variety terrorism than to the still relatively r are terrorist "spectaculars," the dramatic, attention-riveting, highly lethal a cts that so effectively capture the attention of both the media and public alik e, such as the recent incidents in Russia. The most deadly terrorist incidents of the 1990s have never been credib ly claimed, much less "explained" or "justified" as terrorist acts once were. A mong these are: the series of car and truck bombings that rocked Bombay in 1993 , killing 317 persons; the huge truck bomb that destroyed a Jewish community ce nter in Buenos Aires in 1994, killing 86; the truck bomb that demolished the Al fred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City, leaving 168 dead in 1995; the series of bombings in Paris that occurred the same year between July and Octob er and left eight dead and 200 wounded; and last summer's bombings of the U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania, in which 224 persons perished and thousands mo re were wounded. The 1988 in-flight bombing of Pan Am 103, in which 270 persons perished, is an especially notorious example. Although two alleged Libyan gove rnment intelligence operatives were identified and accused of placing the suitc ase containing the bomb that eventually found its way onto the plane, no believ able claim of responsibility has ever been issued. The two are about to stand t rial in The Hague. That terrorists today do not feel as driven to take credit for their ac ts may be related to their belief that their message, whatever it may be, is st ill "reaching" its intended audience. As the renowned terrorism expert Walter L aqueur has observed, "If terrorism is propaganda by the deed, the success of a terrorist campaign depends decisively on the amount of publicity it receives." In this respect, terrorists are still getting all the publicity they crave, but they are manipulating and exploiting it in different ways. By maintaining their anonymity, terrorists may believe they are better able to capitalize on the fear and alarm intrinsically generated by their viole nce. Attacks perpetrated by enigmatic, unseen and unknown assailants may thus b e deliberately designed to foment greater insecurity and panic in the target au dience. In this way, the terrorists' ability to portray themselves as being abl e to strike whenever and wherever they please, while highlighting the governmen t's inability to protect potential targets, is appreciably heightened. The terr orists are seen to appear stronger, the government weak and powerless to stop t he mayhem. Terrorists have long sought to embarrass governments and undermine publ ic confidence in their leaders. Even when they issue no claim, the perpetrators may believe they are still effectively "harming" their enemy and achieving the ir ultimate objective. They may also be confident that even if their message is not clearly understood, the suspicion aroused by even an anonymous attack is S ufficient reward in itself, as well as having the added advantage of possibly d elaying or blunting military retaliation. The current situation in Russia illuminates the challenges faced by oth er countries confronted with terrorist threats. The potentially corrosive effec ts of fear and uncertainty on civil liberties and constitutional safeguards are already evident: Russian authorities and the Russian public have singled out C hechen, Dagestani, Ingushetian and other swarthy, dark-haired immigrants from t he Caucasus. Discriminated against in the best of times, they have been subject ed to withering scrutiny despite assurances from President Boris N. Yeltsin and other senior officials that no one ethnic group or people would be targeted fo r attention. To date, some 11,000 persons have been detained by Russian police. Few of them have been accused of any terrorist offenses. The vast majority hav e been held on charges ranging from possessing improper identity documents to p etty thievery. The ease with which Russia has been thrown into panic by a handful of m en using entirely conventional terrorist weapons and tactics suggests that terr orists can still ably achieve their objectives of fear and intimidation without having to resort to more exotic weaponry or futuristic tactics. This is an imp ortant lesson for the United States, where the focus of current counterterroris m efforts has been on low-probability/high-consequence terrorist incidents usin g weapons of mass of destruction. Attention on this high-end threat, therefore, should not be at the expense of more high-probability/lower-consequence incide nts, such as ordinary terrorist bombings. The United States must be confident that its defenses and preparations are capable of responding not just to the big-budget threats prophesied by thri ller writers and government officials, but also to the low-end attacks that cau se the same strains and unleash the same forces of suspicion and intolerance in societies everywhere* Bruce Hoffman is director of the Rand Washington Office and the author of "Inside Terrorism." <a name="s19990928doing.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928doing.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Houston Chronicle September 24, 1999 Pg. 39 U.S. Doing Right Thing To Help Russia Fight Terrorism By Anatol Lieven RUSSIA and United States may not have all the same friends, but they c ertainly have some of the same mortal enemies. The horrendously bloody terroris t attacks in Russia and the invasion of the Russian republic of Dagestan by Che chen and radical Islamist forces make clear that Russia - and the traditional M uslim majority in Dagestan - are menaced by some of the same forces that for ye ars have been attacking the United States and Israel in the Middle East and els ewhere. This realization should prompt a rethinking by both sides of U.S.-Rus sian relations. There needs to be far less unnecessary rivalry - and far more c ooperation - against common threats. Reports that the I is helping Russia respo nd to the terror campaign, if true, are greatly to be welcomed. The Russian security services have alleged that Osama bin Laden himse If is backing the latest Chechen and Islamist campaign. This may or may not be true, and in any case is largely irrelevant. Bin Laden is only the most promine nt figure in the Sunni extremist network, which extends from Sudan to Pakistan. Rather than a hierarchical "organization" with a "leader," this is a web of gr oups and individuals sharing the same basic values and goals. These include hat red of the West and of Israel - and hatred of Russia, at least since the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979. Many of the Islamist fighters received their first military experienc e fighting with the Afghan mujahedeen against the Soviet forces. Today, they su pport the Taliban regime in Afghanistan, which is giving shelter to bin Laden. As fundamentalist Sunnis, they are also, it may be noted, strongly hostile to S hiite Iran. Last year, Iran came close to an invasion of Afghanistan after Irania n diplomats there were killed by Taliban forces. The growth of these forces in the northern Caucasus has come as a result of three main factors. The first was the Chechen War of 1994-96, when the Chechen cause naturally attracted the sym pathy of many Muslims. During the war itself, a small number of Arab and Afghan volunteers fought on the Chechen side under the command of Khattab, an Arab wh o is now one of the leaders of the attack on Dagestan. Shamil Basayev, the lege ndary Chechen commander and co-leader of the Dagestan operation, has said that five Arab fighters and three Turks were killed there in August. The real growth of modern radical Islam - or "Wahabism," as it is know n in the region - has come since the Chechen war. It has been produced by the e ffect of Persian Gulf Arab money, and the prestige of modern fundamentalist tea ching, in a bitterly poor region. In war-ravaged Chechnya, but also to a lesser extent in Dagestan as W ell, the formal economy has collapsed. Thousands of heavily armed young men ha ve no employment other than to fight. The appeal of religious discipline and certainties also has been incr eased by the breakdown of social traditions and the rise of organized crime. During the Chechen war, I had great sympathy with the Chechen struggl e for independence, which I covered for The Times of London. Russia's heavy sha re of responsibility for the present desperate state of Chechnya cannot be deni ed. Nonetheless, in the present struggle, Russia is basically in the righ t. Basayev, Khattab and their forces are in opposition to their own president, Aslan Maskhadov, who, after leading the Chechen forces against Russia, was elec ted president of Chechnya in 1997 with 65 percent of the vote. The Basayev and Islamist fighters are therefore no longer a "liberation force," and the situati on is completely different to that of Chechnya in 1994-96. Indications are that they are opposed by a majority of Chechens, who are thoroughly tired of the in security and chaos that have afflicted Chechnya for so many years. They definit ely are opposed by the great majority of Dagestanis, who are angry with the bru tality and incompetence of the Russian forces but fear the Chechens on ethnic g rounds and the "Wahabis" as a threat to the traditional, Sufi Islamic tradition S of Dagestan. The Dagestani government of Mahomedali Mahomedov and a large majority of the elected representatives of Dagestan's 34 nationalities want Dagestan to continue as a member of the Russian Federation. Because of this, an Islamic re volution in Dagestan would threaten appalling bloodshed both in Russia proper a nd in the Caucasus. Russia deserves U.S. help in meeting this threat. Lieven is an editor at the International Institute for St rategic Studies in London and author of "Chechnya: Tombstone of Russian Power." </1> name="s19990928bomb.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928bomb.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Colorado Springs Gazette September 27, 1999 Bomb Damage Air war against Yugoslav civilians might have forced Milosevic's pullout After-action reports on NATO's war against Yugoslavia, in cluding some featured in the Sept. 20 issue of U.S. News and World Report are c onfirming what many observers believed at the time. The attacks were largely in effective at destroying Yugoslavia's military capability, contributed to the re fugee crisis and official spokesmen were at best greatly exaggerating the U.S. military's accomplishments and at worst flat-out lying to the American people d uring much of the war. The emerging conclusion - that what induced Slobodan Milosevic to call a tactical surrender was attacks that did damage to civilian targets, not milita ry ones - is in some ways even more disturbing. "The campaign against mobile targets was a near failure," one NATO offic ial told U.S. News. For example, on June 8, just before Yugoslavia agreed to wi thdraw from Kosovo, war planners estimated that one bombing episode caused deva stating damage, including 800 dead Yugoslav troops. But closer inspection after the war revealed "nothing," according to one NATO official "that would indicat e that kind of devastation." NATO officials during the war estimated that 110 Y ugoslav tanks had been destroyed. But only 26 destroyed tanks were found after the war. Plenty of decoys, including inflatable "tanks" were hit, but the warmaki ng capacity of Yugoslavia does not seem to have been damaged much. Instead, the attacks late in the campaign against civilian targets such as bridges, electri c plants, government buildings, apartment houses, industrial installations, ref ineries and the like, which made life difficult for civilians, may have finally persuaded Milosevic to give up. Or he may have decided simply to give up formally, confident that his mi litary capacity was still intact for the next battle. It is also becoming clear that the NATO command planned poorly and misca lculated early and badly, expecting Milosevic to give up after two to five days of bombing. Such misreads were followed by improvising a strategy that ultimat ely centered on hitting civilian targets when the first assessment turned out t o be woefully inaccurate. The lesson for Americans is clear. The old saw that "in war the first ca sualty is truth" was borne out once again during the Kosovo war. Very little of what official spokesmen said during the war has turned out to be accurate. (To be fair, the spokesmen almost certainly didn't know for sure what was true so not all the lies may have been intentional. But that didn't keep them from spea king with great confidence and dismissing critics - who were often much more ac curate - as uninformed naysayers.) The assessment that hitting civilian targets led to success is even more haunting. If what is taken from this war by those who orchestrated it is that they should hit civilian targets - killing innocent people who in many cases ar e the victims of tyranny - early and often, the next war could be utterly barba rous. These assessments should not only debunk the notion that wars in the mod ern world can be won easily and painlessly through air power alone, they should make Americans much more skeptical next time our leaders want to involve us in a war whose relationship to core American interests is tangential at best. name="s19990928waste.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT<Bhttp://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/sl 9990928waste.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel September 26, 1999 Why Waste Military Funds On Unnecessary Fighter Jet? For several days last week, House and Senate negotiators tried to decide how much money, if any, should be spent for a new fighter jet that, des pite what its supporters say, is designed to meet an overrated challenge. The plane is the Air Force's F-22 Raptor, and production money has been appr oved by the Senate. But in an extremely rare action, the House last July refuse d to authorize the Air Force to spend $1.8 billion for six planes, citing, amon g many other things, more than 150 technical problems with the plane. The Air Force argues that the F-22 is essential because America's best fight ers will soon be made obsolete by such new aircraft as Russia's MiG-29, SU-27 a nd SU-35; France's Mirage 2000 and Rafale; the European Consortium's Eurofighte r; and Sweden's Gripen. What the Air Force doesn't say is that none of these countries is a military adversary of the United States, and most are proven U.S. allies. The Russians could turn against the U.S., but they don't have the money to p roduce hugely expensive aircraft, particularly in numbers large enough to threa ten the mammoth inventory of U.S. and NATO aircraft. Russia couldn't even affor d to maintain its Mir space station, a source of immense national pride. Russia, France and other countries might try to earn money by selling some o f these sophisticated planes to rogue nations. However, the F-22 would not stop that effort. If the F-22 is built, it probably would also be sold abroad, just as other U.S aircraft are. The U.S. needs to have a strong defense to stand up to tyrants and meet othe r challenges. Fortunately, it possesses such a force. Among other things, it has fleets of highly maintained advanced fighters flo wn by the best-trained pilots in the world, and backed up by superior intellige nce-gathering equipment and other resources. Given these facts, and the number of other flaws in the F-22 program, it wou Id be premature, at best, to devote any significant funds for this fighter jet. name="s19990928testban.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928testban.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Boston Herald September 26, 1999 Pg. 51 Test Ban Treaty Not Worth Ratifying The arms control crowd is beating the drums again for rat ification of the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty, which Sen. Jesse Helms (R-N.C.) refuses to bring up for consideration in the Senate Foreign Relations Committe e, which he heads. It ought not to be ratified. The treaty embodies an idea who se time has come and gone. The treaty is really a back-door attempt at nuclear disarmament. If n uclear arsenals aren't tested from time to time, nations will lose confidence i n the reliability of the warheads and bombs themselves. And if the nations can' t test, they won't build. But treaty supporters in this country don't make that argument. They concede that stockpiles deteriorate with time. But then they argue that sophist icated small tests with non-nuclear explosives and computer model runs (compute rs keep getting more powerful, you know) are enough to maintain our arsenal at acceptable reliability. But what is the effect of such an argument on other nuclear powers - China, say, which may not have the computing power to match, despite its recent espionage? Is China, which has signed the treaty, to be expected to let its st ockpile decay when it realizes that the United States is keeping its own weapon S in tiptop shape without testing? That's a pretty strong incentive for China t o cheat. The same argument applies with even more force to the new nuclear powe rs India and Pakistan. It is simply not a good idea to ratify treaties to establish an "inte rnational norm," which is what the arms controllers are saying this one will do It is also not a good idea to ratify treaties that some parties would be stro ngly tempted to violate. All around the world the evidence is abundant that many nations (Nort h Korea, Iraq) couldn't give a hoot about international norms. The United State S must be free to respond appropriately - in the nuclear case, to retaliate - a S a deterrent to outrage. Absolutely reliable weapons are essential. President Bush ended U.S. testing in 1989, and President Clinton sign ed the treaty in 1996. The United States doesn't need to test at the moment, bu t the nation should never say never. Some of the unbuilt machines needed for si mulated tests (like the "National Ignition Facility") face massive cost overrun S and need redesigning. Failure to ratify means being shut out of a conference soon on how to enforce the treaty. It's a price we can live with. <a name="s19990928norm.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928norm.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Boston Herald September 26, 1999 Pg. 51 The Norm In Iraq Here's an example of what life is like in one country tha t ignores "international norms." Friends of Saddam Hussein are forever whining that Iraqis are suffering under sanctions imposed after the Gulf War. Yet recent satellite photos show that the dictator has built an enormou S amusement complex. Saddam has created a lakeside resort village outside Baghdad that inc ludes sports stadiums, an amusement park complete with Ferris wheel and hospita Is for use by the Baath Party elite. For this, the regime has money. In an effort to build support for lifting sanctions, Baghdad's propag anda machine tells woeful tales of malnourished childern and shortages of basic medical supplies. But other than bombing, sanctions are the only leverage available to make the regime honor its promise to dismantle weapons of mass destruction. Iraq is allowed to sell oil to purchase food and medicine abroad. Acc ording to the State Department, the regime has failed to hand out half of the m edical supplies and 60 percent of the supplies for agriculture and water purifi cation acquired this way. Washington hopes to use the latest revelations to bolster support for economic sanctions. If ordinary Iraqis are hungry and in ill health, we know W ho's to blame. While the people starve, the nation's rulers party at their priv ate playground. <a name="s19990928new.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928new.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Austin American-Statesman September 26, 1999 Pg. J2 New World Disorder Welcome to the new world disorder. Since 1988, the United Nations has mustered 37 peacekeeping missions, three times as many as in the previous four decades. And a recent U.S. intelli gence report estimates that 35 million people have been displaced or face some crisis as a result of fighting. The world has become a ball of confusion from the Balkans to East Tim or, and the United States and other nations are confused about what to do. Pres ident Clinton and U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan admitted as much in speeche S last week in the first days of the 54th session of the U.N. General Assembly. The global chaos is particularly vexing for the United States, the wo rld's only superpower. This country fluctuates between interventionism and isol ationism. We want to help persecuted people, but after Vietnam we don't want ou r sons and daughters in harm's way. Joint action by members of the United Nations is increasingly difficu It and dangerous, though consensus was reached on intervention in East Timor la st week. Australia is leading a peacekeeping force of 7,000 troops, only 200 of which are Americans. The U.S. government should help to "police" the world and bring it a measure of justice. Intervention has to be determined on a case-by-case basis. World leaders are still grappling with the new world order that was c reated when the communist Soviet Union folded. Today's conflicts are unlike tho se of the past. Civilians are now the targets of combatants, and more people ha ve fewer hopes of being repatriated when violence ends. But we should do more than intervene in other nations. The U.S. gover nment also needs to be more selective about which nations receive financial and military aid. Often this government intervenes in the affairs of former allies who were supported by our arms and military aid. The Indonesian government, wh ich occupied East Timor for more than two decades, has benefited from U.S. mili tary and monetary support. U.S. support should be linked to human-rights standards, not just our geo-political interests in a region. In the long run, defending human rights c an do more to reduce the potential for conflicts than military aid. The issues facing world leaders on the brink of a new millennium are c omplex and difficult . But this much is clear: The United States can't retreat to isolationist policies in the new world disorder. name="s19990928help.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928help.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Charleston (SC) Post and Courier September 26, 1999 Help Russia Fight Terror The United States is right to respond sympathetically to th e horrifying outbreak of terrorism in Russia with sincere offers of help, notwi thstanding its present concerns about a government permeated with corruption. A spate of terrorist bombings, of suspected international origin, has deeply alarmed all segments of Russian opinion. Cooperation by the FBI and CIA could be quite valuable in tracking down those responsible. And it could, as we II, help repair the collapsing good opinion of the Russian people for the Unite d States, which is seen as too closely linked to the deeply unpopular President Boris Yeltsin and his legacy of runaway corruption and economic decline. Although Americans in recent years have known the helpless outrage bro ught on by terrorist bombings, nothing in our experience quite matches the inse curity felt by ordinary Russians after a series of apartment buildings in Mosco W and elsewhere were destroyed by bombs in recent weeks, killing more than 300. The Russian government believes Islamic revolutionaries based in Chech nya are responsible and that they may have been getting help from international terrorists associated with Osama bin Laden, according to The Economist magazin e. The United States holds bin Laden responsible for the terrorist bombing of A merican embassies in Kenya and Tanzania last year. U.S. law enforcement and intelligence agencies know a lot about bin La den, his networks and their methods, and should be eager to learn more. So it W as entirely appropriate for President Clinton to offer Russia help last week. If the offer is accepted, that would be a good time to press the Russi ans for reciprocal cooperation. The Clinton administration also should quickly expand its offer of help by making American terrorism experts available not onl y to the Yeltsin administration but also for consultation with the Russian Duma Opening a dialogue with the Duma on terrorism would be a positive step in reaching out to Mr. Yeltsin's opponents - those who are likely to succeed h im. That is a step this administration has neglected for far too long. name="s19990928bombing.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928bombing.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Singapore Straits Times September 25, 1999 Pg. 64 Bombing Moscow WITH a bang and sudden death from bombings, Russia's long- suffering people are discovering just how much their once-great country of the endless steppes has shrunk. Until urban terrorism came, their annoyance over Kr emlin machinations and the financial shenanigans of the oligarchs had been a re mote frustration, except when it affected them directly in unpaid wages. Not an y more. Russia's descent into disorder has reached their doorstep. In two weeks of terror attacks in Moscow and provincial cities that began on Sept 4, some 3 00 people have died. Early this week, Moscow police found two tonnes of explosi ves and a cache of bullets in security sweeps. A sign of the fear sweeping the capital is that many of the three million visitors from the outlying republics who flood the city daily have to register with the police. The Russian people a re demanding of their national and city governments assurances of personal safe ty and despatch in apprehending the criminals. They are not getting comforting answers, save formulaic blasts from President Boris Yeltsin and Prime Minister Vladimir Putin that Chechen separatists, Dagestan insurgents and bogeymen like the former Chechen prime minister, Mr Shamil Basayev, are implicated. All have denied involvement but, as is increasingly clear in a Russia of low morale in the military and security apparatus, the truth might be a lon g time emerging. The government is pursuing links -in collaboration with Israel i and American intelligence -with international Islamic terror networks such as that of the Saudi Osama Laden. It is possible the bombings are connected with the Chechens' bid for independence and Mr Basayev's attempt to restore a 19th I slamic republic binding together Chechnya and Dagestan. It is also possible the people's reaction might well be to ask, so what? What can be done about the so uthern Caucasus contagion such that it is excised from the daily lives of Russi ans elsewhere in the huge Federation? The really hard question to ask is how far the Russian government wou Id go to stay in denial. Assuming the Chechnya-Dagestan connection is eventuall y proved, might the government be tempted to exploit the terror situation to di vert attention from the host of ills afflicting the nation? Adding to the farce in the Kremlin and the State Duma, with rumours swirling that Mr Yeltsin is cl ose to removing his fifth prime minister in under two years, there are problems of capital flight, a degraded rule of law, infiltration of a gangster culture. Now, fear of a messy death in one's home. This is a sad metaphor for the state of life in Russia today. Eight years after a Yeltsin stewardship that began heroically but has become bizarre, experts are agreed two conditions are absolute for the country to recover. One is proper governance, meaning someone other than Mr Yeltsin in charge. The other is a clean-up of tax collection -shorthand for fiscal contro 1, controlling corruption and honest management. Russia would go no place until someone can deliver the fundamentals. If more bombs go off, declaring an emerg ency would be hard for Mr Yeltsin to resist. It can only mean that the parliame ntary elections set for Dec 19 and possibly, even next year's presidential elec tion, will be put off indefinitely. And then what? Rule by decree, with an unwe 11, undependable Mr Yeltsin taking Russia where? aname="s19990928switch.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928switch.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Washington Post September 26, 1999 Pg. B6 A Switch On Encryption THE ADMINISTRATION'S sudden announcement that it would relax export restrictions on "robust" encryption products -- codes that can cloak ele ctronic communications and cannot be broken -- looks at first like a screeching U-turn. For years, despite pressure from the U.S. software industry, from priv acy advocates and from Congress to lift all curbs on strong encryption, the Whi te House argued rightly, in our view that those interests must be careful ly lanced against the threat to national security and public safety if terroris ts and drug lords could obtain uncrackable encryption. It clung to that surface principle even while announcing revision after revision in the export restrict ions, all aimed unsuccessfully at mollifying an industry that feared losi ng the large overseas market to foreign encryption products. The announcement, then, raises the unhappy but familiar suspicion that t he White House is playing politics on a matter of national security. A bare two months ago, after all, FBI Director Louis Freeh testified on the Hill that law enforcement is in "unanimous agreement that the widespread availability and us e of robust, non-recoverable encryption ultimately will devastate our ability t o fight crime and prevent terrorism." And the administration's encryption stanc e has been a point of great bitterness between Vice President Gore and the larg ely California-based high-tech community. But it's also the case that seven years of waffling have gradually weake ned the argument that export controls would in fact keep strong encryption out of the hands of international criminals. National security people were arguing in 1996 that, while no export curbs were foolproof, they still had a two-year" window" in which to slow down strong encryption's spread and prevent its being widely adopted as a matter of course a window that has now presumably shut. Those who watch the intelligence agencies necessarily at a distance -- say t hey already operate in an environment where strong encryption is widely availab le from foreign and illicit sources. Countermeasures, they suggest, are evolvin g to match. The administration proposal purports to add such countermeasures. It ask S Congress for more money to create an FBI code-breaking center, and it offers incentives for the use of voluntary escrow for extra "keys." But these are smal lish initiatives to attack what remain potentially huge dangers. The administra tion now echoes privacy advocates in arguing that more crime will be prevented by the widespread use of secure communications than will be unleashed by its av ailability to criminals. While a fair point, that doesn't address the question of whether the White House still takes seriously the large dangers it warned ag ainst for so long. name="s19990928crimes.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep199/s1 9990928crimes.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Washington Times September 27, 1999 Pg. 20 Crimes Against The Chechen People Even as the world community gathers at the United Nations t o discuss and denounce ethnic cleansing and other crimes against humanity, one of the most appalling instances of the said practice is taking place with hardl y a peep of protest being raised in Washington or New York. Last week, the Russian government unleashed a massive bombing campaig n against the republic of Chechnya, allegedly aiming at destroying Chechen terr orists groups who have been blowing up apartment buildings in Moscow. Let it fi rst be said that that whoever set the bombs played dirty and aimed to murder as many Russian civilians as possible; 300 people lost their lives. However, the Russian government has yet to produce evidence identifying the perpetrators. W hat it has done instead is renew a devastatingly brutal war of ethnic cleansing fought against the Chechens in 1994-96. This may possibly be as a diversion fr om Russia's many domestic troubles, awash as President Yeltsin, his family, adv isers and bankers are in accusations of corruption and money laundering. One look at the list of the targets will tell you that terrorists are not the main target here. On- Sept. 23, Russian planes bombed the airport in the capital of Grozny, an oil refinery, an arms depot and a radar installation. Does that sound like a war on terrorism? Of course not. It is not as though there's a whole lot left to bomb in Chechnya, act ually. Recently, Musa Muradov, editor of Chenchya's only newspaper "The Grozny Worker," told The Washington Times editorial page that "Grozny looks like Dresd en in 1945. There's not a building standing." There is no economic life, no boo ks, no libraries, no art museums, no media, no university, almost no schools. All were targeted for destruction by the Russians. Nor is there evidence of an y international economic aid. Whatever has been offered by the international CO mmunity has been blocked by Moscow. In 1996, Elena Bonner called the war on Chechnya a "historical crime of Russia and a historical crime of Western democracy." Meanwhile, President CI inton had the particularly offensive insight to compare the horrendous Russian blitzkrieg to the American Civil War. What we have is a return to the policies of Josef Stalin, who deporte di the entire Chechen and Ingush peoples to Siberia from 1944 to 1957, resulting in the death of over half the population. If we are going to talk about crime S against humanity, Chechnya presents an urgent case and must be widely and pub licly denounced. name="s19990928colombian.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928colombian.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT<A HREF#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Washington Times September 27, 1999 Pg. 20 Colombian Acrobatics Colombian President Andres Pastrana, who was in town last week to ask the United States and the international community for $3.5 billion in a id, better hope reporters have a bad memory. Mr. Pastrana, like his friends in the Clinton administration, has been all over the map when it comes to fighting insurgents and drug-producers in Colombia. And the result is disastrous. In July of this year, Mr. Pastrana was asked in an interview with the Ar gentine newspaper Clarin whether he agreed with U.S. drug czar Gen. Barry McCaf frey's assertion that the FARC, the country's largest terrorist group, is a "na rco-guerrilla" group. Having had extensive, if unproductive, peace negotiations going with the FARC, Mr. Pastrana firmly stated, "I have always said and I rep eat: I would never negotiate with narco-traffickers." When asked by Clarin if t he United States could collaborate with an anti-guerrilla effort while it helps to fight narco-trafficking in Colombia, Mr. Pastrana said "That is a decision for the United States government. For our government those are two different th ings. There is no evidence that the FARC are narco-traffickers." On Wednesday in Washington, Mr. Pastrana's statements on the guerrillas W ere the polar opposite. The Colombian president acknowledged that he had said i n the past that the guerrillas are not a drug cartel and still stood by that be lief. Then he added, however, that "definitely there's a link with narco-traffi cking" and the "guerrilla and other violent groups." Mr. Pastrana then added," If we defeat the narco-traffickers, we also defeat the guerrillas." The Colombian president's change of heart is alarming because the securi ty of Colombia is of overarching concern to the whole continent. Colombia expor ts about 80 percent of the cocaine which enters the United States; it borders P anama as well as Venezuela, top exporter of oil to the United States. However, he may be flip-flopping for a reason. Mr. Pastrana said in July that he categor ically ruled out the prospect of American troops going to Colombia. He added th at he had a letter from President Clinton "in which he tells me that the proble m in Colombia can't be resolved through military intervention, but instead thro ugh political means." The fact is that Mr. Pastrana has dutifully followed Washington's advice He has even demilitarized and given the FARC a territory the size of Switzerl and to jump-start peace talks. The FARC has failed to meet the government's con cession with any act of goodwill. And the violence in Colombia has steadily wor sened as kidnappings and massacres routinely make the front pages. After repeat edly recommending negotiations with terrorist groups, the White House is now SC rambling. Now that Colombia is an unmitigated disaster, the Clinton administration is shifting into gear on aiding Colombia's counter-narcotics (and therefore CO unter-guerrilla) efforts. This is a welcome, but very belated development. Eighteen months ago, testifying before Congress, Secretary of State Made leine Albright said that there was "some dispute" as to whether helicopters for drug interdiction "are needed or not" in Colombia. Now even the Clinton admini stration understands that Colombia desperately needs helicopters and other form S of military aid. According to Washington insiders, however, the White House wants to make sure this aid is couched as a counter-narcotics, not a counter-insurgency effo rt. That would mean admitting to a humiliating policy failure. name="s19990928when.htm> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928when.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF=#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Chicago Tribune September 26, 1999 When Intervention Is Warranted At times of global crisis the United Nations often seems hopel essly paralyzed, yammering like workers at the Tower of Babel when there is a j ob to be done--wars to be pacified, dictators to be deterred, lives to be saved Thus UN Secretary General Kofi Annan's challenge to the Security Council last week to muster quicker, bolder UN intervention to stop deadly conflicts ma y be understandable, but nevertheless an overly idealistic humanitarian call to arms. However well-meant was Annan's summons, widely separate interests divide the current five permanent members on the Security Council--often pitting the U .S. and Britain against Russia and China, with France a swing vote. This uneasy mix stymied UN action in Kosovo, leaving NATO to act on its own against Yugosl avia's slaughter there, and it delayed progress in East Timor, allowing militia S abetted by the Indonesian military to wreak havoc until the UN quit negotiati ng and opted for a peacekeeping force. Annan is doing what is expected of a UN leader: appealing to the civilize d world to do the right thing, to intervene early and stop bloodshed. In that, however, he is ultimately doomed to disappointment. From Rwanda, where the UN failed to halt genocide, to East Timor, where i t helped mobilize troops, there is a world of difference between the responses of outside nations. There has been an enormous evolution in global thinking. Th e notion that sovereignty does not entitle a government to slaughter its own pe ople seems to have been established. The notion that outsiders have a duty to a ct also seems to be taking hold. Annan has championed this trend, citing the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights as bolstering the principle that international concern for human rights takes precedence over claims of noninterference in internal affairs. Still, reality is the UN has no army of its own and must rely on individu al member states to decide when intervention is warranted. But it will be a lon g time--if ever--before such responses become automatic. That, partly, is a fun ction that more and more states are genuinely democratic. Governments must pers uade their people why they should take risks to quell bloody disputes abroad. N ational self-interest remains, appropriately, the most reliable guide in these matters. Each nation must debate what is and isn't in its own interest. For the foreseeable future, there will be no independent UN force. The be st thing is to foster regional alliances committed to keeping peace in their ow n areas. Examples exist: the U.S. and Europe in NATO; Africa's Nigeria-led ECOM OG; the Australia-led force in East Timor. The UN's role should be to lead and support when it can. <a name="s19990928pax.htm"> <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=LEFT>http://ebird.dtic.mil/Sep1999/s1 9990928pax.htm </TD> <TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF=#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> </HEAD> Long Island Newsday September 26, 1999 Pg. B1 Pax UNica IS THE WORLD ready for a new version of Pax Romana? That was the peace, backed by the force of its mighty legions, that Rome imposed at the dawn of the Christian era on the restive populations of its widespread empire. Two thousand years later, as the new millennium nears and the world simmers wi th vicious ethnic hatreds and nationalistic feuds, hints of a similar internati onal approach to peace are surfacing at the United Nations. Call it Pax UNica. It's as unique as it is controversial. And it won't - and shouldn't - work. The clarion call to Pax UNica came at the opening session last week of the UN General Assembly, the last such session of the century. And it came just as international peacekeeping forces are dealing with two humanitarian disaste rs born of civil wars at opposite ends of the world, in Kosovo and East Timor. It came from UN Secretary General Kofi Annan. He urged world leaders to set aside their claims to inviolable national sovereignty and be ready to join in a collective military response for interve ntion in countries where human rights are grossly violated during civil unrest. The old notion of national sovereignty, Annan argued, should be redefined. State sovereignty, in his construct, would be equal to the sovereignty of indiv iduals and ethnic groups, both protected under the UN charter from abuse. Today , he said, the world has been slow and inconsistent in its response to such abu ses, as in Kosovo or East Timor. In some cases, as in Rwanda, it did not act at all. But under current rules, as Annan pointed out, the UN often is paralyze di by the ability of a single Security Council member to veto any military actio n. Implicit in Annan's plea for swifter responses to humanitarian emergencies i n civil wars is a major change in how the Security Council operates - a change that could greatly erode powerful nations' prerogatives but also put weak natio ns at greater risk of international military intervention. Just as implicit but logically unavoidable would be the eventual creation of a standing UN force th at could move quickly anywhere in the world to quell human rights outrages befo re they erupt into humanitarian disasters. "Massive and systematic violations o f human rights - wherever they may take place - should not be allowed to stand, " Annan said. Unintended Consequences It was a stunning speech, greeted by some with covert admiration fo r its courage and by others with open outrage. The vision sketched out by Annan is based on a notion born of idealism - peace through a collective military re sponse to the murderous oppression of ethnic minorities wherever it crops up, i n civil wars or genocidal spasms of nationalism. Like many such utopian notions , it's better in the abstract than it would be in its concrete manifestations. And it's fraught with perils, not the least of which would be the iron law of и nintended consequences. On the face of it, it would be hard to reject: Who could possibly be against world peace or the protection of weak groups from oppression by dictato rial bullies? But if adopted and carried to its logical conclusion with the mea ns necessary to make it work, this idea could usher in an era of endless small wars prompted by humanitarian concerns. An oxymoron - humanitarian wars - would come to dominate the next century's geopolitical landscape. Kosovo, or something very much like it, could multiply by a hundred: fi rst, the persecution of a religious and ethnic minority by a tyrant. Then, a co alition of military powers bombs the tyrant into submission. And that is follow ed by a military occupation of a contested territory by an international peacek eeping force. There is no dearth around the world of petty tyrants and ethnic g roups yearning to break free, taking with them chunks of sovereign territory, W hich may or may not have valuable mineral resources or historical antecedents a ttached like toxic barnacles. That's fine, you may say. What's wrong with ramming some sense and good values down a tyrant's throat with a few smart bombs? Well, maybe. First you h ave to pick your tyrant carefully. Then you may have to argue about whose value S should prevail. It gets more than a little sticky when the abstract gives way to particular cases. UN Intervention in China? Take China, whose reaction to Annan's speech was a few degrees cool er than freezing. China is, by western standards, a gross violator of human rig hts on a colossal scale. Many see its military occupation of Tibet as oppressiv e of an ethnic and religious minority yearning for independence. Others worry a bout Beijing's possible takeover by force of Taiwan, which sees itself as indep endent but is to China nothing but a rebel province. Would anything that China does within what it sees as its borders reall y qualify it as a possible target of international military intervention? Don't bet on it. It's too big, too powerful and too valuable for its economic potent ial as a market ever to be attacked on humanitarian grounds. Whose values would the United Nations impose? What the West calls violations of universal human r ights Beijing calls the legitimate imposition of its sovereign right to maintai n control and social cohesiveness. Or take the civil wars in Algeria and Sudan, where grotesquely large nu mbers of civilians are killed in fights for political control. In Algeria, Isla mist radicals battle a secular government. In Sudan, the Muslim government is f ighting an insurrection in the south by black Christians and animists. Whose si de would the UN take? Whose values would be seen by the world as the right ones to prevail? Secular ones in Algeria and Christian or Muslim ones in Sudan? Pushing the Vulnerable to Arm And consider even one unintended consequence of a Pax UNica. India cited the NATO intervention in Kosovo as a good reason why a nation lacking pow erful allies should arm itself with nuclear weapons. If a small country faces a potential ethnic rebellion, it would make sense for it to acquire a crude nucl car device or a biological weapon as a deterrent against international military action. And who could blame it? That script might lead to an arms race through out the developing world. But all that pales when it comes to the central notion behind a greatly expanded form of UN military intervention: the erosion of national sovereignty. Nations have always been moved to military action to defend or promote vital n ational interests. To carry out Annan's vision, countries would have to subordi nate their national self-interest in the service of an international consensus. And to carry out the will of a UN consensus, they would have to cede a portion of their armed forces to the UN to form a permanent rapid-reaction unit under central control, big enough to put out several brushfires at once anywhere in t he world. This is enough to give justification to the paranoid fantasies entertai ned by right-wing militias and survivalists about black UN helicopters imposing a new world order in Montana or North Dakota. But it won't happen. And it shou Idn't happen. At least not quite this way. Certainly not through the erosion of national sovereignty as a guiding principle of international law. Annan raises very good points about the necessity of responding more qu ickly and effectively to the incipient manifestations of genocide and other hum anitarian outrages. And he is right that such occurrences are more likely than not to multiply in the near future. And he is right that the Security Council, as constituted today, can be too easily frozen into paralysis by a single vote. Some changes are necessary so that a broad consensus for the introduction of U N peacekeepers in a developing conflict can be attained more readily. Perhaps a supermajority mechanism of approval involving both permanent and rotating coun cil members may have to be devised. And key nations may have to set aside speci ally trained forces that could be mobilized swiftly for ad hoc collective secur ity actions in trouble spots. Power Rules; Reality Bites But none of this can be done by expecting nations to subordinate th eir vital national interests to an international consensus. And a pragmatic acc eptance of the role of nations' power in any conflict is necessary. China, Russ ia, and certainly the United States will never be the targets of international intervention, whether there are bloodbaths in Dagestan or Tibet or riots in Cal ifornia over a separatist Hispanic state. Even in conjuring the most hopeful of utopias, reality ultimately bites And bites hard. <TABLE BGCOLOR="#FF9900" WIDTH=100% BORDER=0 CELLPADDING=0 CELLSPACING=0> <TR><TD ALIGN=RIGHT><A HREF=#TOP> RETURN TO TOP</A> </TD> </TR></TABLE> END ATTACHMENT 2

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