The 1989 US invasion of Panama was precipitated by a series of crises which together painted General Manuel Noriega as an illegitimate leader in the eyes of the American people. Although Noriega had been an asset to the CIA in his capacity as an intelligence officer in the Panamanian Defence Force (PDF), democratic processes became increasingly farcical under his command. The Reagan administration hoped for a Panamanian solution, but popular protests were consistently met with violence, while Noriega’s opponents failed to mount a successful coup. However, the situation changed significantly in February of 1988, when federal grand juries in Miami and Tampa indicted Noriega for racketeering, drug trafficking and money laundering. President Reagan saw this as an opportunity to negotiate Noriega’s resignation, but they failed to reach an agreement. When President George H.W Bush came to power in December of 1988, Noriega’s survival was becoming increasingly embarrassing for the US. However, despite the failure of a US-backed coup against Noriega in October 1989, Bush continued to oppose military intervention. On the 15th of December, Noriega declared his military dictatorship to be in a state of war with the United States. The Bush administration was unperturbed by Noriega’s declaration, which they saw as a largely symbolic denunciation of the crippling economic sanctions they had inflicted on Panama. However, the next day an American Marine Officer was killed in an incident outside the PDF headquarters in Panama City. Another American serviceman who had witnessed the event was allegedly beaten by PDF soldiers, while his wife was interrogated and sexually assaulted. Four days later, President Bush authorized an invasion to overthrow and capture General Noriega.
In an early morning television address on December 20 1989, President Bush informed the American people of his decision to invade Panama. He argued that Noriega had declared war on the United States and publicly threatened the lives of American citizens. Pointing to the death of the unarmed American servicemen, Bush argued that Noriega posed a direct threat to the 35 000 US citizens residing in Panama. “As President,” he said, “I have no higher obligation than to safeguard the lives of American citizens.” Significantly, Bush justified his actions by pointing to the anarchy of the international system: “For nearly two years, the United States, nations of Latin America and the Caribbean have worked together to resolve the crisis in Panama…I took this action only after reaching the conclusion that every other avenue was closed and the lives of American citizens were in danger.” The official American explanation was consistent with structural realism in that Noriega was seen to threaten US security. In order to maintain its position in the anarchic international system, the US had to forcibly remove Noriega from power. However, one must be careful to separate rhetoric from reality. As such, I will examine the question of whether Noriega represented a legitimate threat to US citizens residing in Panama.
In itself, Noriega’s declaration of war did not concern the United States. Only days earlier President Bush had announced that vessels carrying the Panamanian flag would be barred from US ports. The Panamanian economy was based on maritime commerce, leading the national assembly to pass a resolution describing the move as tantamount to a declaration of war. President Bush’s December 20 address explicitly linked this declaration to the events of December 16. He suggested that the attacks on American servicemen were premeditated, emanating directly from Noriega. However, a brief analysis of the events of December 16 largely contradicts this view. On the 16th of December, four US marines approached a PDF vehicle checkpoint in Panama City. PDF soldiers asked the American servicemen to produce identification papers, at which point the driver accelerated away. One of the American servicemen gave the PDF soldiers ‘the finger’, causing them to open fire and fatally wound Lieutenant Robert Paz (Grow 181). Another American servicemen and his wife witnessed the event and were subsequently detained and interrogated by PDF soldiers for several hours. The PDF quickly sent word to US officials that Paz’s death had been unintended. They also said that the officers who interrogated the American servicemen and his wife were intoxicated at the time and were not acting in any official capacity. In any case, the incidents were clearly not premeditated. The PDF had no prior knowledge that the American servicemen would approach the checkpoint, which, as Michael Grow has pointed out, was in a ‘sensitive, off-limits part of the capital at a time of acute tension between the two countries’ (Grow 181). The actions of soldiers on both sides speak more of reckless arrogance than calculated warfare.
In fact, one could argue that the United States deliberately provoked PDF aggression. Secretary of State Baker wrote that the administration specifically needed “a blatant provocation against American citizens that would arouse public sentiment and make intervention more palatable” (Grow 178). According to one post-invasion commission, this would be achieved by “searching Panamanian citizens, confronting PDF forces, occupying small town for a number of hours, buzzing Panamanian air space with military aircraft and surrounding public building with troops” (Independent Commission of Inquiry on the US Invasion of Panama 1991, p. 17). American economic sanctions were crippling the Panamanian economy and the Bush Administration clearly hoped their December 14 move against the maritime trade would be the proverbial nail in the coffin. As former pentagon official Fred Hoffman told Newsweek “They had a plan and were just waiting for an excuse to use it” (Grow 181). Grow is therefore right in suggesting that the events of December 16 were “precipitated by a war of nerves that the Bush administration had initiated two months earlier in an apparent effort to provoke Noriega into providing a justification for intervention” (151) Therefore, despite the explanation offered by President Bush in his December 20 address, the US invasion of Panama cannot be attributed to a Panamanian security threat.
For feminist theorists, the world is pervasively shaped by gendered meanings (Weber 89). As such, they point to the intersection of masculinist subjectivities in state decision-making to explain conflict. Before using this mode of analysis to examine the 1989 invasion discourse, I will look briefly at George Bush’s 1988-election campaign. Bush had been Vice-President in the Reagan administration for seven years. When he announced his candidacy for president in October of 1987, he immediately appeared on the cover of Newsweek magazine with the now infamous headline – “Fighting the Wimp Factor” (Ducat 2004, p. 85). This was occasioned in part by his years of servility as Vice-President to Reagan, a role which was seen as effeminate for its lack courage and autonomy. However, there was also an air of aristocracy about Bush, which was also seen as effeminate. Indeed, in a 1988 political cartoon, Bush appeared dressed a woman, having tea and cake with aristocratic women. As Stephen Ducat has shown in his excellent study The Wimp Factor, the Republican Party machine worked tirelessly to shed Bush’s effeminate image. Bush was now framed as paternal protector, his submission to Reagan repackaged as a ‘masculine and noble fidelity to one’s comrade’ (Ducat 86). In one speech, Bush repeated the phrase “I’m not going to let them take if away from you” at least a dozen times. When he eventually became President, Bush continued to play the role of paternal protector. “As President,” he said in his announcement of the Panama invasion, “I have no higher obligation than to safeguard the lives of American citizens.”
Having established that Bush’s bid for the presidency was hampered by something of a masculinity crisis, I now turn to the role of masculinist paradigms in Bush’s decision to invade Panama. It is important to note that Bush was President of the United States at a time when it was largely seen to be a hegemon in decline. From the perspective of the Bush administration, a demonstration of US power in Panama would give credence to their claim of superpower status. However, Noriega’s survival was an affront to this very idea. In his memoirs, Secretary of State Colin Powell describes the administration’s outrage that “a third rate dictator” was “thumbing his nose at the United States” (Grow 180). Noriega’s defiance underscored the United States’ humiliation, as he declared, “No one is going to tell me when to go, much less the United States” (Grow 173). The survival of Noriega was also an affront to Bush’s ‘war on drugs,’ which had been central to his Presidential election campaign. In allowing an indicted drug trafficker to remain in power, Bush was seen to be reneging on his promise to protect America from the evils of illicit drugs. The US media thus articulated a sense of American emasculation, as one journalist asked “Mr. President, some of your critics say that, despite your rhetoric, General Noriega can sit in Panama for as long as he wishes, in effect laughing at you sir, laughing at the United States. Can you do anything about it?” (Grow 174).
In the US Senate, Democratic leader George Mitchell said that Bush appeared ‘frightened’, while Time magazine described him as “recklessly timid.” The New York Times similarly wrote that Bush was “hypercautious by nature, a reactor rather than an initiator” (Grow 175). Central to such criticisms was an awareness that a Latin American, who was feminised in American discourses of national security, was making a fool of the US President. The Panama crisis thus challenged the masculinist paradigm that underpinned American discourses of national security in what would we be seen as a resurgence of ‘the wimp factor.’ The extent to which Bush acted on this supposed affront to his manhood is evident in the conflict’s aftermath. According to the Wall Street Journal, Bush’s decision to forcibly remove Noriega proved that he was ‘decisive and tough,’ while the New York Times observed that the invasion had shown that he was “a man capable of bold action.” But it was perhaps Time magazine, which had once highlighted Bush’s ‘wimp factor,’ that provided the most validation for the fledgling President. On the cover of the December 1989 issue which declared the US invasion of Panama a success appeared a flexed and bulging bicep, covered in stars and stripes. The US invasion of Panama led to the death of twenty-four American servicemen and hundreds, if not thousands of Panamanians. In the United States, this was a small price to pay to kick the ‘wimp factor.’
In an early morning television address on December 20 1989, President Bush informed the American people of his decision to invade Panama. He argued that Noriega had declared war on the United States and publicly threatened the lives of American citizens. Pointing to the death of the unarmed American servicemen, Bush argued that Noriega posed a direct threat to the 35 000 US citizens residing in Panama. “As President,” he said, “I have no higher obligation than to safeguard the lives of American citizens.” Significantly, Bush justified his actions by pointing to the anarchy of the international system: “For nearly two years, the United States, nations of Latin America and the Caribbean have worked together to resolve the crisis in Panama…I took this action only after reaching the conclusion that every other avenue was closed and the lives of American citizens were in danger.” The official American explanation was consistent with structural realism in that Noriega was seen to threaten US security. In order to maintain its position in the anarchic international system, the US had to forcibly remove Noriega from power. However, one must be careful to separate rhetoric from reality. As such, I will examine the question of whether Noriega represented a legitimate threat to US citizens residing in Panama.
In itself, Noriega’s declaration of war did not concern the United States. Only days earlier President Bush had announced that vessels carrying the Panamanian flag would be barred from US ports. The Panamanian economy was based on maritime commerce, leading the national assembly to pass a resolution describing the move as tantamount to a declaration of war. President Bush’s December 20 address explicitly linked this declaration to the events of December 16. He suggested that the attacks on American servicemen were premeditated, emanating directly from Noriega. However, a brief analysis of the events of December 16 largely contradicts this view. On the 16th of December, four US marines approached a PDF vehicle checkpoint in Panama City. PDF soldiers asked the American servicemen to produce identification papers, at which point the driver accelerated away. One of the American servicemen gave the PDF soldiers ‘the finger’, causing them to open fire and fatally wound Lieutenant Robert Paz (Grow 181). Another American servicemen and his wife witnessed the event and were subsequently detained and interrogated by PDF soldiers for several hours. The PDF quickly sent word to US officials that Paz’s death had been unintended. They also said that the officers who interrogated the American servicemen and his wife were intoxicated at the time and were not acting in any official capacity. In any case, the incidents were clearly not premeditated. The PDF had no prior knowledge that the American servicemen would approach the checkpoint, which, as Michael Grow has pointed out, was in a ‘sensitive, off-limits part of the capital at a time of acute tension between the two countries’ (Grow 181). The actions of soldiers on both sides speak more of reckless arrogance than calculated warfare.
In fact, one could argue that the United States deliberately provoked PDF aggression. Secretary of State Baker wrote that the administration specifically needed “a blatant provocation against American citizens that would arouse public sentiment and make intervention more palatable” (Grow 178). According to one post-invasion commission, this would be achieved by “searching Panamanian citizens, confronting PDF forces, occupying small town for a number of hours, buzzing Panamanian air space with military aircraft and surrounding public building with troops” (Independent Commission of Inquiry on the US Invasion of Panama 1991, p. 17). American economic sanctions were crippling the Panamanian economy and the Bush Administration clearly hoped their December 14 move against the maritime trade would be the proverbial nail in the coffin. As former pentagon official Fred Hoffman told Newsweek “They had a plan and were just waiting for an excuse to use it” (Grow 181). Grow is therefore right in suggesting that the events of December 16 were “precipitated by a war of nerves that the Bush administration had initiated two months earlier in an apparent effort to provoke Noriega into providing a justification for intervention” (151) Therefore, despite the explanation offered by President Bush in his December 20 address, the US invasion of Panama cannot be attributed to a Panamanian security threat.
For feminist theorists, the world is pervasively shaped by gendered meanings (Weber 89). As such, they point to the intersection of masculinist subjectivities in state decision-making to explain conflict. Before using this mode of analysis to examine the 1989 invasion discourse, I will look briefly at George Bush’s 1988-election campaign. Bush had been Vice-President in the Reagan administration for seven years. When he announced his candidacy for president in October of 1987, he immediately appeared on the cover of Newsweek magazine with the now infamous headline – “Fighting the Wimp Factor” (Ducat 2004, p. 85). This was occasioned in part by his years of servility as Vice-President to Reagan, a role which was seen as effeminate for its lack courage and autonomy. However, there was also an air of aristocracy about Bush, which was also seen as effeminate. Indeed, in a 1988 political cartoon, Bush appeared dressed a woman, having tea and cake with aristocratic women. As Stephen Ducat has shown in his excellent study The Wimp Factor, the Republican Party machine worked tirelessly to shed Bush’s effeminate image. Bush was now framed as paternal protector, his submission to Reagan repackaged as a ‘masculine and noble fidelity to one’s comrade’ (Ducat 86). In one speech, Bush repeated the phrase “I’m not going to let them take if away from you” at least a dozen times. When he eventually became President, Bush continued to play the role of paternal protector. “As President,” he said in his announcement of the Panama invasion, “I have no higher obligation than to safeguard the lives of American citizens.”
Having established that Bush’s bid for the presidency was hampered by something of a masculinity crisis, I now turn to the role of masculinist paradigms in Bush’s decision to invade Panama. It is important to note that Bush was President of the United States at a time when it was largely seen to be a hegemon in decline. From the perspective of the Bush administration, a demonstration of US power in Panama would give credence to their claim of superpower status. However, Noriega’s survival was an affront to this very idea. In his memoirs, Secretary of State Colin Powell describes the administration’s outrage that “a third rate dictator” was “thumbing his nose at the United States” (Grow 180). Noriega’s defiance underscored the United States’ humiliation, as he declared, “No one is going to tell me when to go, much less the United States” (Grow 173). The survival of Noriega was also an affront to Bush’s ‘war on drugs,’ which had been central to his Presidential election campaign. In allowing an indicted drug trafficker to remain in power, Bush was seen to be reneging on his promise to protect America from the evils of illicit drugs. The US media thus articulated a sense of American emasculation, as one journalist asked “Mr. President, some of your critics say that, despite your rhetoric, General Noriega can sit in Panama for as long as he wishes, in effect laughing at you sir, laughing at the United States. Can you do anything about it?” (Grow 174).
In the US Senate, Democratic leader George Mitchell said that Bush appeared ‘frightened’, while Time magazine described him as “recklessly timid.” The New York Times similarly wrote that Bush was “hypercautious by nature, a reactor rather than an initiator” (Grow 175). Central to such criticisms was an awareness that a Latin American, who was feminised in American discourses of national security, was making a fool of the US President. The Panama crisis thus challenged the masculinist paradigm that underpinned American discourses of national security in what would we be seen as a resurgence of ‘the wimp factor.’ The extent to which Bush acted on this supposed affront to his manhood is evident in the conflict’s aftermath. According to the Wall Street Journal, Bush’s decision to forcibly remove Noriega proved that he was ‘decisive and tough,’ while the New York Times observed that the invasion had shown that he was “a man capable of bold action.” But it was perhaps Time magazine, which had once highlighted Bush’s ‘wimp factor,’ that provided the most validation for the fledgling President. On the cover of the December 1989 issue which declared the US invasion of Panama a success appeared a flexed and bulging bicep, covered in stars and stripes. The US invasion of Panama led to the death of twenty-four American servicemen and hundreds, if not thousands of Panamanians. In the United States, this was a small price to pay to kick the ‘wimp factor.’
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