Pop quiz: What is the foulest deed that President Clinton has committed recently? No, it has nothing to do with gropes -- or lying about gropes. Instead, it's lying about genocide.

Last week, as part of his African safari, Clinton visited Rwanda, where in the spring of 1994, 500,000 people, mainly of the Tutsi minority, were killed by Hutu extremists in one of the most time-efficient massacres of the century.

Four years later, in prime feel-your-pain mode, Clinton told an audience at the Kigali airport, "All over the world there were people like me sitting in offices who did not fully appreciate the depth and the speed with which you were being engulfed by this unimaginable terror." The United States and the international community did not move with enough dispatch in response to the horrors under way, Clinton acknowledged. And to show he was really serious, he uttered the words "Never again."

Consider the full meaning of Clinton's remark: Because he did not know enough, he did not act quickly enough. That is demonstrably false. It is the ultimate in cover-your-ass. The president did know. And his use of the phrase "people like me" -- to convey that he was in the dark much like everyone else -- was ridiculous. Unlike most "people like me," not only did the president of the United States have a $30 billion-a-year intelligence establishment at his call to determine what was occurring in Rwanda, he was given advance warning of the horror.

Starting in December 1993, human rights advocates in Washington began informing administration officials that a potential calamity was building in Rwanda. They pleaded with the administration to become engaged. But the Clintonites, still reeling from the video footage of dead American troops being dragged through the streets of Mogadishu, Somalia, were not eager for involvement in another messy African conflict.

As the genocide came closer, the human rights community beseeched the White House to act. And there were options. The United States could at least have signaled that it had an interest in Rwanda by taking a high-profile role in regional discussions ongoing at the time. Instead, the administration kept its distance, allowing the Hutu thugs to believe that few in the international community would care if they unleashed a blood bath.

In addition to the talks, several African states, including Ghana, were willing to bolster the small peacekeeping force in the area. But they required U.S. logistical support. But instead of moving quickly, the administration dickered over the colors of the tanks and vehicles. Would they be white -- the color of United Nations peacekeepers -- or the standard camouflage? There were other delays, and by the time the new troops arrived, the worst of the killing was done.

Even with the mass murders under way, there were steps that Clinton could have taken. Human rights groups suggested that the United States deploy jamming devices to block the radio transmissions of the Hutu leaders coordinating the slaughter. The White House said no. Close the Rwanda embassy? No. Pressure France and Belgium to use their influence with the Hutus? No. Organize a global boycott of foreign aid? No.

Human rights lobbyists urged Clinton to make a clear and strong declaration that genocide was occurring in Rwanda and to threaten the killers with the prospect of being tried for crimes against humanity. But Clinton had more to say about the caning of a young American in Singapore than about what was transpiring in Rwanda. The administration dithered for weeks over whether to use the G-word -- since labeling this action "genocide," under international law, would have compelled the administration to take direct steps to prevent the killings.

I remember those days well. Human rights activists were full of rage that their supposed friends in the White House -- like National Security Adviser Tony Lake, who for years had talked the talk about human rights -- were unwilling to do anything meaningful to halt what was unquestionably genocide. Eventually a Clinton official uttered the G-word, but by then hundreds of thousands were dead.

In the midst of the killing spree, a Senate aide told me, "I've talked to people at the NSC (National Security Council) and State. They are well-informed. They know who's responsible for the genocidal attacks." For Clinton to now suggest he did not respond for lack of better information is loathsome. It suggests far more about his character than any alleged exchange of bodily fluids he might have had with a White House intern. His "apology" in Kigali was pure Clinton: a cavalier mixing of Oprah-like empathy with craven disingenuousness. When it mattered most, he felt no pain, took no risks and knowingly stood by as hundreds of thousands died. After all, trying to save lives might have caused him political discomfort or a drop in the polls.

During his brief stopover in Rwanda -- he never left the airport -- Clinton announced that the United States would contribute $2 million to a survivor's fund. That's $4 for each Rwandan slaughtered while Clinton stood by and did nothing.
SALON | March 30, 1998

David Corn, Washington editor of the Nation, is a frequent contributor to Salon.