Deadly Rite of the Rainy Season

By Pico Iyer

A new offensive produces the same old stalemate

Caked in grime, ragged in their new-grown beards, the South Africans had finally begun to withdraw. The last of some 2,000 soldiers were making off with booty ranging from Soviet-made guns to Russian-language maps. Some of their trucks were still decorated with Christmas tinsel. But the condition of the 30-mile-long column was hardly festive. At the village of Mupa, they had to put up a rickety bridge across a swollen river; farther south, they drove past a treasure trove of Soviet-made equipment, including recently developed AGS-17 automatic grenade launchers. After five weeks of "Operation Askari," the South Africans reported knocking out 25 Soviet-made tanks, giving chase to two Cuban battalions, and killing 400 enemy troops. Their own casualties were 21 dead, more than in any other campaign since 1975. Said Lieut. Ian Gleeson: "It was an extended operation and a hard slog."

So ended the annual deadly rite of the rainy season. Every year, before the heavy summer storms, the South Africans launch punishing raids into southern Angola to pre-empt attacks by the black nationalist guerrillas of the South West Africa People's Organization (SWAPO). And every year, once the rains provide them with foliage cover and vital water supplies, the rebels cross the border into northern Namibia, hoping to bring an end to South Africa's 17-year control of that nation. This year, for the first time. South African troops came into direct confrontation with those of Marxist Angola, supported by some of the country's estimated 26,000 Cuban soldiers and advisers. After five years of tortuous U.N. negotiation, the Angolan-Namibian situation is still at a violent stalemate: Angola refuses to dismiss its Cuban troops until South Africa withdraws; South Africa refuses to withdraw until the Cubans are dismissed. Meanwhile, South Africa will doubtless continue assisting the insurgent National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UMTA) in its attacks against the Angolan government.

The latest offensive showed just how stagnant and how strenuous the evenly matched tug of war has become. Last August UNITA forces, reportedly supported by South African air strikes, captured the strategic town of Cangamba in southern Angola. During the following two months, SWAPO guerrillas swarmed through northern Namibia. Early last month Pretoria decided to strike back. In a memorable display of ill-timing, the South Africans chose to suggest terms for a trial disengagement in Angola on the same day that they had, according to Angola, killed dozens of civilians in a bombing attack. Their offer was turned down. Several days later Angola replied with the equally wishful demand that South Africa immediately withdraw all its forces and unconditionally accept Namibian independence.

Meantime, the U.S. still finds itself in the curious position of backing Namibian independence while refusing to condemn South Africa's Angolan incursions. One compelling reason for that refusal: as a charter member of the contact group that hopes to mediate a settlement of the issue, the U.S. cannot afford to choose sides. In deed, American and Angolan officials have already made plans to resume the bi lateral discussions they began last year.

But the Administration shows no signs of giving ground: according to one U.S. official, "We have stated our terms for facilitating an agreement, and those terms are not about to change."

Those who have sought to break the deadlock have indeed been repulsed as firmly as those who made it. Two weeks ago, 13 U.N. Security Council members unanimously condemned the South African offensive (only the U.S. and Great Britain abstained). "South Africa is sick and tired of the hypocrisy of that Council and its members," said South African Foreign Minister Roelof ("Pik") Botha in reply. The Soviet Union took the unusual measure of approaching South Africa diplomatically to warn it against destabilizing the Angolan regime. Responding to both intrusions, the Durban-based Sunday Tribune editorialized, "Go to hell!"

But such fighting words may belie flagging spirits. Initially. South Africa justified its offensive by citing the U.S. invasion of Grenada last October (a disingenuous comparison, if only because South Africa's control of Namibia is in direct defiance of a U.N. ruling). Then it resolved to impose a Grenadian-style ban on press coverage of the assault. As a result, said Philip Myburgh, spokesman for the opposition Progressive Federal Party, the operation was attended by "an atmosphere of secrecy and suspicion."

Many South Africans are growing restive as each year their government claims to have crippled SWAPO, and each year SWAPO shows it is not crippled. Asked the moderate Rand Daily Mail last week: "What is it all for?" The editorial went on to point out that South African aggression justifies, and even necessitates, the Cuban presence in Angola. The public's concern was increased when government authorities talked of sending tanks and armor into Angola following attacks on aircraft by Soviet-made SAM8 and SAM9 missiles. "The South Africans," says one U.S. diplomat, "have started to ask themselves how long it can go on, how high will be the price."

Angola has been spending at least 40% of its foreign-currency earnings on military equipment and watching its foreign debt soar to more than $2.5 billion. Prices go up and stores close down. The Cuban presence has not only drained money but also discouraged the flow of aid from the West. Yet the government knows that in the Cubans' absence, it would become difficult indeed to resist enemy raids and replace South African rule in Namibia. In the meantime, more and more Angolans have taken to dodging the draft. Throughout southern Angola, buildings, railways and dams are in ruins as a result of UNITA attacks.

Though both sides are worn down, the fighting drags on. South Africa still refuses to acknowledge, let alone encounter, spokesmen from SWAPO. Even if cease-fire talks could take place, they would not address the trickiest issue in the whole equation: the Cubans. For a breakthrough to occur, says a U.S. diplomat, "there would have to be an awful lot of common sense and logic. So far that has not been the case."

--By Pico Iyer. Reported by Marsh Clark/Mupa and Johanna McGeary/Washington

With reporting by Marsh Clark/Mupa, Johanna McGeary/Washington