NOT EVERY ALARM SUMMONS U.S.

"We may gather out of history a policy, by the comparison and application of other men's forepassed miseries with our own like errors and ill deservings," wrote Sir Walter Raleigh. The forepassed miseries of America's participation in the Vietnam War a generation ago have emerged as a myth that haunt our smaller scale involvement in Somalia.

"We are there to give democracy a chance." In Vietnam, we maintained a stubborn innocence about President Ngo Dinh Diem, the George Washington of South Vietnam, as Lyndon Johnson liked to call him. Back then, we believed that anything in the world that wasn't communist was per force democratic. Never mind that South Vietnam was a one family authoritarian regime. We would call it a "democracy" all the same.

With a similar feigned innocence, we talk about turning Somalia into a democracy, which is a perverse if not cynical joke. The competing tribes of Somalia have no interest in the subtle niceties of the secure ballot box, the peaceful transfer of power or the protection of human rights. The power of guns will rule Somalia, not the rule of law.

"Our real battle is for the hearts and minds of the people." Adm. Jonathan Howe, the George Patton of the U.N. command in Mogadishu, tells us how much most everyone in Somalia still reveres the United States and the United Nations. Somehow, the sentiment is not comforting. We won't do any better with this "hearts and minds" stuff in Somalia than we did with it in Vietnam.

-- "Our goal is peace with honor." All of the Nixon years in Vietnam were spent searching for this elusive goal. President Clinton has at least put a shot clock on his search for an "honorable" departive. We will be out lock, stock and barrel by next April 1. Whatever happens after that is not our business -- we will be honorably gone. As President Nixon might put it, we will begin the process of Somaliazation of the conflict.

-- "America doesn't out and run" -- most of the time, that is. Vietnam, with 58,000 dead, exhausted our tolerance for the spilling of American blood in far-off lands. Such military interventions as we undertake have to be made with a clear purpose (e.g., oil) and with abundant force to bring about a quick and decisive end (Desert Storm). In Somalia, the killing of 18 U.S. servicemen on one Sunday was enough to convince the American people that it was well past time to go.

-- "It may be a dirty little war, but it's the only war we've got." This was an early Vietnam formulation. Somalia is truly a dirty little war and we had best be shed of it.

-- "It became necessary to destroy the town in order to save it." In Vietnam, it was Ben Tre. Today, if we really wanted to sock it to Gen. Mohamed Farrah Aidid, it would be South Mogadishu. Aidid is now being romaticized in the press as the shrewdest, cleverest guerrilla tactician since Gen. Vo Nguyen Giap. Since June our Somalia objective, again in Vietnam terminology, has been to "search and destroy" the general and his men. Of course, once we capture him and charge him with war crimes, we will prop him up at the peace table for arms length negotiations. Neat trick.

-- "Credibility with our allies." In Vietnam, we hung on for years and years because, it was argued, our allies would deem us to be weak if we withdrew. In Somalia, some of our allies, like France and Italy, are bailing out even faster than we are.

-- "There is a light at the end of the tunnel." Ambassador Bob Oakley and the presidents of Ethiopia and Eritrea are on the way. The air abounds with the politics of peace. The Somali warlords, sensible souls we now want to believe, will put away the guns and take out the quill pens of thoughtful founding fathers. Don't bet on it.

Our Somali errors and ill deservings are continuing again the lesson Vietnam should have taught: Every world disorder is not an alarm bell for American intervention.