Shortly before the end of the Falklands War Israel had launched a full-scale invasion of Lebanon, which led in August 1982 to the deployment of a mainly American Multi-National Force (MNF) in Beirut. The MNF was withdrawn after a brief period but returned in September following the massacres that took place in the Palestinian refugee camps in the suburbs of Beirut which shocked the world. At this point it consisted of American, French and Italian forces. The Lebanese Government asked Britain to make a contribution too. I was reluctant, and explained that in my view we were overextended as it was. But they sent a special envoy to see me who told me that Britain held a unique position and that it was vital that it be represented in the Force. So I agreed, with the support of Michael Heseltine and Geoffrey Howe, that about 100 of our men currently stationed in Cyprus with the UN should join the MNF. In practice, the British contingent had a slightly different role from the others, manning no substantial fixed positions. The mandate of the MNF was to assist the Lebanese Government and the Lebanese Armed Forces to restore their authority over the Beirut area and so help to ensure the safety of the population there.
I am always uneasy about any commitment of British forces if it is made without very clear objectives. The original limited mandate of the MNF was indeed clear, at least on paper. But later in September we came under strong pressure from the Americans and the Italians to increase our commitment and to extend the mandate. The doubt in everyone’ mind was whether the current force would be sufficient to allow the Lebanese Government and Army to restore their authority. But if it was not sufficient, that fact was, of course, as much an argument for withdrawing the MNF as for expanding it. I held a meeting to discuss these matters with ministers and advisers at Chequers on Friday 9 September. I was alarmed by reports that the US seemed determined to take a much tougher line with the Syrians than seemed sensible. Although Syria was certainly an obstacle to progress, its support for any solution to the Lebanese crisis would be essential.
The military and political situation in the Lebanon was deteriorating. In the Chouf mountains south of Beirut, the forces of the Druze minority, historically friendly to Britain, were locked in a conflict with the Lebanese Army which neither side seemed able to win: it looked like a military stalemate. The Druze were under pressure from their Syrian backers to secure wider objectives than they themselves probably wanted. Certainly, they had no quarrel of their own with the British and sought to avoid firing on our position. On one occasion during a small lunch party at Downing Street I was told that a Druze shell had fallen close to our troops. Michael Heseltine was at the lunch, so I asked him to telephone the Druze leader, Walid Jumblatt, to have the shelling stopped — and it was. Our force was small, exposed and isolated, and I was becoming increasingly concerned about what might happen.
For their part, the Lebanese Government and the Christian President Amin Gemayel were unable to free themselves from their identification with the old Phalange movement and so could not draw on wider Lebanese support. As a result they had to lean increasingly on the Americans. Three-quarters of the Lebanon was now occupied by the Syrians or the Israelis and the prospects for peace and stability for the remainder seemed bleak.
Then on Sunday 23 October a suicide bomber drove a lorry laden with explosives into the basement of the US Marine headquarters in Beirut. The building was totally destroyed. A second bomb shortly afterwards did the same to the headquarters of the French Paratroopers. Altogether 242 American and 58 French troops were killed — in total more than Britain had lost in the Falklands War. Responsibility was claimed by two militant Shia Muslim groups. My immediate reaction was one of shock at the carnage and disgust at the fanatics who had caused it. But I was also conscious of the impact it would have on the position and morale of the MNF. On the one hand, it would be wrong to give the terrorists the satisfaction of seeing the international force driven out. On the other, what had happened highlighted the enormous dangers of our continued presence and the question arose about whether we were justified in continuing to risk the lives of our troops for what was increasingly no clear purpose.
At this point my attention was abruptly diverted by events on the other side of the world. The humiliation inflicted on the United States by the Beirut bombing undoubtedly influenced its reaction to the events which were taking place on the island of Grenada in the eastern Caribbean.
On Wednesday 19 October 1983 a pro-Soviet military coup had overthrown the Government of Grenada. The new regime were certainly a vicious and unstable bunch. With the exception of General Austin, who led the coup, they were all in their twenties and a number of them had a record of violence and torture. Maurice Bishop, the overthrown Prime Minister, and five of his close supporters were shot dead. There was outrage at what had happened among most of the other Caribbean countries. Jamaica and Barbados wanted military intervention in which they would have liked the Americans and us to take part. My immediate reaction was that it would be most unwise of the Americans, let alone us, to accede to this suggestion. I was afraid that it would put foreign communities in Grenada at severe risk. There were some 200 British civilians there and many more Americans. The main organization of Caribbean States, CARICOM, was not prepared to agree to military intervention in Grenada. However, the Organization of Eastern Caribbean States, the OECS, decided unanimously to put together a force and called on other governments to help in restoring peace and order in the island. Clearly, the American reaction would be crucial.
It was easy to see why the United States might be tempted to go in and deal with the thugs who had taken over in Grenada. But as I always pointed out to the Americans afterwards, though apparently to little effect, Grenada was not transformed from a democratic island paradise into a Soviet surrogate overnight in October 1983. The Marxist Maurice Bishop had already come to power there through an earlier coup in March 1979: he had suspended the Constitution and put many of his opponents in gaol. He was, indeed, a personal friend of Fidel Castro. The Americans had had hostile relations with his Government for years. Bishop was, admittedly, something of a pragmatist and had even made a visit to the United States at the end of May 1983. It seems that it was, in part, a dispute about the Grenada Government’ attitude to private enterprise which brought about the clash with his colleagues in the Marxist ‘New Jewel Movement’ that ultimately led to his fall.
The new ‘hemispheric’ strategy which President Reagan’ Administration was pursuing, combined with experience of living beside the Soviet satellite of Cuba, in our view led the United States to exaggerate the threat which a Marxist Grenada posed. Our intelligence suggested that the Soviets had only a peripheral interest in the island. By contrast, the Government of Cuba certainly was deeply involved. A new airfield was being constructed as an extension to the existing airport. It was due to open in March 1984, though aircraft would be able to land there from about January. The Americans saw this as having a military purpose. It did indeed seem likely that the Cubans, who were providing the workforce for the project — and an uncertain number of Cuban military personnel also — regarded it in this light. For them, it would be a way of managing more easily the traffic of their thousands of troops in Angola and Ethiopia back and forth to Cuba. It would also be useful if the Cubans wished to intervene closer to home. But our view remained that the Grenada Government’ main purpose was, as they claimed, a commercial one, planning to cater for the undoubtedly exaggerated projections of their currently minimal tourist industry. So the position on the eve of the overthrow of Maurice Bishop was that Grenada had an unsavoury and undemocratic regime with close and friendly relations with Cuba. On such an analysis, the coup of 19 October 1983, morally objectionable as it was, was a change in degree rather than in kind.
On Saturday 22 October — the day before the Beirut bomb outrages — I received a report of the conclusions of the United States National Security Council meeting about Grenada. I was told that it had been decided that the Administration would proceed very cautiously. An Ameri
can carrier group based on the USS Independence, which had been heading for the Mediterranean, had been diverted south to the Caribbean; it was now east of the southern tip of Florida and due north of Puerto Rico. An amphibious group with 1900 marines and two landing craft was 200 miles further east. The Independence would reach the area the following day but would remain well to the east of Dominica and well to the north of Grenada. The amphibious group would reach the same area later on the following day. The existence of this force would give the Americans the option to react if the situation warranted it. It was emphasized, however, that they had made no decision going beyond these contingency deployments. They had received a firm request from the east Caribbean heads of government to help them restore peace and order in Grenada. Jamaica and Barbados were supporting the request. If the Americans took action to evacuate US citizens they promised to evacuate British citizens as well. We were also assured that there would be consultation if they decided to take any further steps.
That evening I spent a good deal of time talking it all over on the telephone from Chequers. I spoke with Richard Luce, now back in the Foreign Office as Minister of State (Geoffrey Howe was in Athens), Willie Whitelaw and Michael Heseltine. I approved the order that HMS Antrim should sail from Colombia to the area of Grenada, remaining beyond the horizon. In public it should be made clear that this was a precautionary move designed to help with the evacuation of British subjects from Grenada should this be required. In fact, it did not seem necessary. The Deputy High Commissioner in Bridgetown (Barbados) reported after a day’ visit to Grenada that British citizens were safe, that the new regime in Grenada was willing to allow arrangements to be made for them to leave if they wished and that Sir Paul Scoon, the Governor-General (the Queen’ representative on the island) was well and in reasonably good heart. He did not request our military intervention, either directly or indirectly.
Suddenly the whole position changed. What precisely happened in Washington I still do not know, but I find it hard to believe that outrage at the Beirut bombing had nothing to do with it. I am sure that this was not a matter of calculation, but rather of frustrated anger — yet that did not make it any easier for me defend, not least to a British House of Commons in which anti-American feeling on both right and left was increasing. The fact that Grenada was also a Commonwealth member, and that the Queen was Head of State, made it harder still.
At 7.15 in the evening of Monday 24 October I received a message from President Reagan while I was hosting a reception at Downing Street. The President wrote that he was giving serious consideration to the OECS request for military action. He asked for my thoughts and advice. I was strongly against intervention and asked that a draft reply be prepared at once on lines which I laid down. I then had to go to a farewell dinner given by Princess Alexandra and her husband, Angus Ogilvy, for the outgoing American Ambassador, J. J. Louis, Jnr. I said to him: ‘Do you know what is happening about Grenada? Something is going on.’He knew nothing about it.
I received a telephone call during the dinner to return immediately to No. 10 and arrived back at 11.30 p.m. By then a second message had arrived from the President. In this he stated that he had decided to respond positively to the request for military action. I immediately called a meeting with Geoffrey Howe, Michael Heseltine and the military and we prepared my reply to the President’ two messages, which was sent at 12.30 a.m. There was no difficulty in agreeing a common line. My message concluded:
This action will be seen as intervention by a western country in the internal affairs of a small independent nation, however unattractive its regime. I ask you to consider this in the context of our wider East-West relations and of the fact that we will be having in the next few days to present to our Parliament and people the siting of Cruise missiles in this country. I must ask you to think most carefully about these points. I cannot conceal that I am deeply disturbed by your latest communication. You asked for my advice. I have set it out and hope that even at this late stage you will take it into account before events are irrevocable.
I followed this up twenty minutes later by telephoning President Reagan on the hot-line. I told him that I did not wish to speak at any length over the telephone but I did want him to consider very carefully the reply which I had just sent. He undertook to do so but said, ‘we are already at zero.’
At 7.45 that morning a further message arrived, in which the President said that he had weighed very carefully the considerations that I had raised but believed them to be outweighed by other factors. In fact, the US military operation to invade Grenada began early that morning. After some fierce fighting the leaders of the regime were taken prisoner.
At the time I felt dismayed and let down by what had happened. At best, the British Government had been made to look impotent; at worst we looked deceitful. Only the previous afternoon Geoffrey had told the House of Commons that he had no knowledge of any American intention to intervene in Grenada. Now he and I would have to explain how it had happened that a member of the Commonwealth had been invaded by our closest ally, and more than that, whatever our private feelings, we would also have to defend the United States’ reputation in the face of widespread condemnation.
The international reaction to American intervention was in general strongly adverse. It certainly gave a propaganda boost to the Soviet Union. In its early reports, Soviet television news apparently thought that Grenada was a province of southern Spain. But soon their propaganda machine began firing on all cylinders. The Cubans were portrayed as having played an heroic role in resisting the invasion. When I went to the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting in New Delhi the following month it was still Grenada which was the most controversial topic of discussion. President Mugabe claimed that American action in Grenada would provide a precedent for South Africa in dealing with her neighbours. My own public criticism of American action and refusal to become involved in it also led to temporarily bad relations with some of Britain’ long-standing friends in the Caribbean. It was an unhappy time.
In Britain we had to face strong pressure, not least in the House of Commons, to renegotiate the arrangements for the deployment of Cruise missiles. The argument was that if the Americans had not consulted us about Grenada, why should they do so as regards the use of Cruise missiles. Similarly, the new leader of the SDP, David Owen, wrote in the Daily Mail on 28 October that ‘British public opinion will simply not accept any longer the Prime Minister’ refusal to insist on a dual mechanism to cover the launching procedures for any Cruise missiles that are deployed in Britain before the end of this year.’
So when President Reagan telephoned me on the evening of Wednesday 26 October during an emergency House of Commons debate on the American action I was not in the sunniest of moods. The President began by saying, in that disarming way of his, that if he was in London and dropped in to see me he would be careful to throw his hat through the door first. He said he very much regretted the embarrassment that had been caused and wanted to explain how it had all happened. It was the need to avoid leaks of what was intended which had been at the root of the problem. He had been woken at 3 o’clock in the morning with an urgent plea from the OECS. A group had then convened in Washington to study the matter and there was already fear of a leak. By the time he had received my message setting out my concerns the zero hour had passed and American forces were on their way. The military action had gone well and the aim was now to secure democracy.
There was not much I felt able to say and so I more or less held my peace, but I was glad to have received the telephone call. At that Thursday’ Cabinet there was a long discussion of what had happened. I told my colleagues that our advice against US intervention had, I believed, been sound. But the US, for its part, had taken a different view on an issue which directly touched its national interests. Britain’ friendship with the United States must on no account be jeopardized.
Just as events in the Lebanon had affected American action in Grenada, so what I had seen i
n the crisis over Grenada affected my attitude to the Lebanon. I was concerned that American lack of consultation and unpredictability might be repeated there with very damaging consequences.
Naturally, I understood that the United States wanted to strike back after the terrorist outrage against its servicemen in Beirut. But whatever military action now took place, I wanted it to be a lawful, measured and effective response. I sent a message to President Reagan on 4 November welcoming assurances which Geoffrey Howe had received from George Shultz that there would be no hasty reaction by the Americans in retaliation and urging that a more broadly based Lebanese Government be constructed. The President replied to me on 7 November, emphasizing that any action would be a matter of self-defence, not of revenge, but adding that those who committed the atrocity must not be allowed to strike again if it was possible to prevent them. A week later he sent me a further message saying that although he had not yet made a final decision he was inclined to take decisive but carefully limited military action. The US had reports of planning for other terrorist acts against the MNF and he intended to deter these. He added that, because of the need for absolute secrecy, knowledge of his current thinking was being severely limited within the US Government.
I quickly replied to the President. I said that I well understood all the pressures upon him to take action but I wanted to give him my frank views about the decision which only he could take. Any action must in my view be clearly limited to legitimate self-defence. It would be necessary to ensure the avoidance of civilian casualties and minimize the opportunities for hostile propaganda. Surprise was likely to be difficult because a range of possible targets had been publicly discussed by the media for days past. I was glad that he did not envisage involving Israel or targetting Syria or Iran, action against either of which would be very dangerous. I hoped that my message was as clear as it could be: I did not believe that retaliatory action was advisable. However, in the end France did launch air strikes — at American urging, as President Mitterrand told me later. And in response to attacks on its aircraft, the United States struck at Syrian positions in central Lebanon in December.
The Downing Street Years, 1979-1990 Page 43