The High Cost of Getting Out

When the going gets tough, pundits and politicians seem to head for the hills. As unrest and strife continue in southern Mogadishu, calls for an end to the United States commitment to the United Nations operation in Somalia mount. From Capitol Hill, Senators Robert Dole and Robert Byrd question why we're there. In an editorial, The New York Times ponders whether it's time to come home. Former President Jimmy Carter lambastes the violence of the United Nations forces.

For Americans wary of open-ended commitments abroad and anxious about lost lives, opposition to the deployment is natural. Somalia is still a dangerous, even deadly place. And the time frame for a U.S. withdrawal is uncertain at best. The chorus of voices calling for the troops to come home could, nourished by these natural fears, soar to a cacophony. But bringing our troops home now would be a tragic mistake.

Perspective is vital. A year ago, the situation in Somalia was unspeakable. Hundreds died daily of starvation and tens of thousands more were on the brink. Warlords looted donated supplies of food and prevented them from reaching those areas so desperately in need.

In December, President Bush launched an almost solely American relief mission of massive proportions. Within weeks, circumstances improved dramatically. Starvation stopped, the warlords were silenced.

Then, as planned, the U.S. handed over control to U.N. forces. The American force was cut from 30,000 to 5,000. Somalia continued to recover; local institutions began to reemerge. There was, however, one notable exception.

In a flash of violence, warlord Mohammed Aideed launched an ambush on Pakistani peacekeepers, killing 24. His headquarters and followers were soon attacked, but he remained at large and continues to mount operations against U.S. peacekeepers, often singling out Americans. As the violence has mounted, so have the calls for withdrawal.

While U.S. forces are only a fraction of the troops on the ground, they provide both the necessary logistical support and the military muscle needed in case of serious trouble. Without them, the U.N. operation would crumble. That is the price and the responsibility of being the world's only superpower.

If prospects for civil order dim, Aideed and the other warlords will reassert themselves, likely causing at least a partial return to preintervention conditions. The terror will return for the Somali people; the horror will return to our TV sets. Then we will have to choose: either turn a cold shoulder, or send back our troops.

So the choices for the U.S. are to stay and do the job right or to come home, leaving the U.N. operation in serious jeopardy. Staying means continuing to remove obstacles to the return of civil order, even if those obstacles are people.

U.N. forces have every justification, legally, morally, and pragmatically, for bringing Aideed to justice. In addition to being one of the warlords responsible for a genocide of his people, he is guilty of arranging the murders of close to 30 U.N. peacekeepers.

His tactics are brutal but effective: He uses women and children as screens for his gunmen, forcing peacekeepers either to sit and be shot or to fire into the crowd. He knows that both dead foreign troops and dead Somalis damage the credibility of the U.N. operation. His presence in Mogadishu ensures continued unrest and violence; he retains significant support in Mogadishu and he knows how to use it.

Unfortunately, Aideed will not willingly surrender himself. Thus, his capture requires force, a concept that makes Jimmy Carter and many aid workers in Somalia squeamish. The aid workers in particular have good reason; they have seen enough death and violence.

But to surrender progress because of the ambitions of one warlord would be a monumental defeat. The precedent that such a retreat would leave behind would haunt us for years to come. Gunmen around the world would know that if they target Americans for long enough, retreat is likely. In the coming years, American soldiers will be in places just as dangerous as Somalia. Are we going to send that precedent with them?

Much more is in stake in Somalia than American prestige, or even the future of the current mission. Much of the future of the United Nations is being determined in Somalia now. Only in the last few years has the U.N. had the strength and unity to attempt such large-scale operations. Concepts like humanitarian intervention are very much works in progress. Cynics and isolationists are just waiting for a failure to clamp a lid on future operations.

The U.N.'s military and logistical operations have often been clumsy, their public relations disastrous. Nor has American conduct been spotless in the Somalia drama. President Bush was disingenuous when he said Americans would be out by Inauguration Day. President Clinton, for his part, has failed to explain our mission thoroughly to the American people. But these failings must not cloud the importance of the mission.

If there was ever a situation that cried out for U.N. intervention, it was Somalia. Failure here will cast a dark cloud over other U.N. operations. The U.N. mission now is to rebuild a country; if accomplished, it will be a significant achievement for humankind. Rather than using a nation's discord for territorial gain, other world powers will have saved a warand famine-stricken people.

It's a noble and vital undertaking, but not an easy one. U.N. forces have, and will, suffer losses. They can rude out these storms, but only if our leaders are able to ride out the storms on the homefront.