Pomp, Even Under the Circumstances

Heads of state and government from several countries at a commemorative ceremony for NATO in the Mellon Auditorium in Washington. (Reuters) Related Links The Nightmare That Wasn't

By Peter Slevin
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, April 24, 1999; Page A20

Drummers pum-pummed and trumpeters crowed a triumphal welcome as NATO leaders gathered in a gilded hall to commemorate 50 years of the Atlantic alliance. War may have been on everyone's minds, but amid the talk of Yugoslavia, time was reserved for affirmation.

Designers cloaked the Andrew Mellon Auditorium in enough banners and gold and Burgundy to please Henry VIII. The U.S. Marine Band played a spirited repertoire.

Each of 20 NATO leaders spoke, often movingly, of what the alliance has accomplished. Dutch Prime Minister Wim Kok said his earliest memories are of a world at war. Greek Prime Minister Costas Simitas told of killings born of hatred and the moral necessity to stop them.

The alliance's newest members talked of their pained history, and of hope and gratitude. All three – Poland, Hungary and the Czech Republic – were part of the Soviet bloc 10 years ago, and each had suffered longer. Polish Prime Minister Aleksander Kwasniewski spoke of a "period of misfortune" that lasted nearly 300 years. He declared, "The dreams of our fathers and our grandfathers have now come true."

Something Other Than NATO in Mind
Lithuanian President Valdas Adamkus had a bounce to his step, but he had hoops, not NATO hoopla, on his mind. Led by two American guards, Lithuania's top basketball team won the Euroleague title in an upset.

"It's fantastic for us, like winning the NBA championship here," said Adamkus, who left Lithuania after the Soviet takeover and spent much of his life in Chicago, where he became an ardent Bulls fan.

The leaders and dignitaries from 23 alliance partner countries busied themselves as they awaited their cue to join the summit activities.

Azerbaijan's president, Heydar Aliyev, had a more varied day. He visited the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum and then traveled to the U.S. Naval Academy, where he ate pizza, cookies and a strawberry milkshake with 4,000 midshipmen. The sailors treated him like a rock star, whooping gleefully when he spoke.

Only a Few Protesters Have Their Say
Harold Waltz rode a bus from Millinocket, Maine, to protest NATO's action in Kosovo. A papermaker on vacation, he brought a dozen eggs to throw at the NATO limousines, but people on his bus warned him that he would get in trouble. He ditched the eggs.

"My wife gave me strict orders to be back to work on Monday," said Waltz, 57.

An anti-war protest on the Washington Monument grounds drew hardly more demonstrators than reporters, despite the presence of Pentagon Papers purveyor Daniel Ellsberg. They even played a Vietnam protest anthem by Country Joe and the Fish.

Hyattsville data processor Nancy Hey, 35, said: "Bombing is not the solution. It has never been a solution to anything."

Soldiers Get the Show on the Road
At the D.C. Armory, the summit's transportation command post, Army officers and soldiers from Fort Eustis, Va., sat at computers, monitoring maps and routes.

"We're not driving tactical vehicles, but the same mentality applies," said Maj. Douglas Nomura, operations officer. "We still have operational security, we still have force protection."

Indeed, the wheels are snazzier than the average Humvee, noted Spec. Andrew Whittington, driver of a new Mercedes 500 series sedan: "Costs $81,000. Drives like a cloud."

Soldiers are told to speak with the dignitaries only when spoken to. Lt. Col. George Washington said, "The protocol is, if a soldier is asked a question, he or she will respond, but they are not seeking conversation."

Cards Stacked Against Those Without Them
At the Ronald Reagan Building, beehive for more than 3,200 journalists and technicians, woe betide the poor hacks who lacked credentials. Without them, you can't enter the Federal Triangle, can't enter the Reagan Building, can't collect the snazzy mock-leather NATO 50th anniversary briefcase.

Marc Kleysman, a reporter for Belgian Military TV, was horrified to discover that the NATO host committee did not have credentials ready for him, although he said he had sent his papers in February. He got the precious yellow pass in time, but first he waited out a 90-minute delay when the NATO credentialing computer crashed.

NATO organizers, who filled the gift satchels with fact sheets and brochures, suffered an occasional fact glitch. A documentary about the alliance's history included the assertion that Soviet leader Joseph Stalin invaded Hungary. The trouble is, Stalin died in 1953. Soviet tanks crushed the Hungarian rebellion in 1956.

For District Police, Silence Is Golden
D.C. police seemed all dressed up with nowhere to go. Tourist Jean Sutton complimented Cmdr. A.H. Parks on an "excellent job." But as she was leaving, Parks whispered, "It's almost frightening when it's so quiet."

It was shortly after noon when D.C. Police Chief Charles H. Ramsey and Assistant Chief Terrance W. Gainer cruised past the Mellon Auditorium to catch a glimpse of summit action.

Gainer: "It's almost eerie, isn't it?"

Ramsey: "This is all a scam. The real summit's in New York."