COOKIES FOR THE CONTRAS

NOW THAT we know what happened to the $10 million contribution the sultan of Brunei made to the contras, I have an idea for a new way to raise money for those "freedom fighters."

What happened to the sultan's check is that it disappeared. That's what happened to all large donations made to the contras. I call your attention to the $27 million in "humanitarian" aid that was sent in l985. Half of it vanished.

What about the $30 million -- or maybe it was only $10 million, according to the attorney general -- that was skimmed off the profits of the arms sales to Iran? Gone with the wind. Nobody has a clue.

It is obvious that big chunks of dough cannot make their way past the sticky fingers along the way to the "moral equivalent of the Founding Fathers," who are busy blowing up civilian buses and maiming children, with no payday in sight.

I say, let them try a bake sale. And I'm talking overt. I see Lafayette Park turned into a bazaar for the contras. The proceeds might be modest, which could mean that they could get it to the jungles and put into the pockets of what Secretary of State George Shultz calls "the democratic resistance" and what the new chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, Claiborne Pell, calls "our terrorists."

I see booths set up on the grass, with celebrity vendors attracting perhaps not large crowds, but lots of press and bused-in representatives of the 35 per cent of the American people who are in favor of military aid for the contras.

The First Booth would be manned by President Reagan. He will be selling hermits, those delicious old-fashioned cookies full of molasses, nuts and raisins that sweetened many a childhood. The very name of his wares would emphasize the president's remoteness from the contra mess.

Next door, I see the dog-biscuit concession manned, naturally, by Patrick J. Buchanan, White House communications director and possible presidential candidate. Buchanan, as we all know, was recently in the park calling The Washington Post "the untethered attack dog of the American left." As a come-on, maybe he could have a tethered attack dog with a loud, constant bark very like his own.

Nearby, I put retired lieutenant general Richard Secord, who plays some role that I am not entirely sure of in the affair. He is an arms merchant, so why not make him a vendor of TOW missiles such as we sold to Iran. His pitch: "Protect your home with a TOW, not a Doberman. TOW will not leave hairs on your rug, whine for Milk Bones or need to be walked."

Robert McFarlane sells cakes baked in the shape of keys, just like the one he carried with him to Tehran last May in search of Iranian "moderates" who still have their heads attached to their shoulders.

The Elliott Abrams booth I see doing the most business. Abrams is the assistant secretary of state who got the big hit from the sultan. It's one of the most spectacular strokes in the history of charity. The sultan, a mega-billionaire, hates democracy -- "we tried it and it didn't work," he says -- but Shultz, who went in to soften him up, and Abrams, who followed with the black bag, convinced him that Nicaragua needed it and had him babbling, "I'm a contra, too."

It's even more impressive when you know that the sultan is a publicity-hound. When he opened his l,000-plus-room palace, he had all the world's glitteries to attract attention. But his largesse to the contras had to be a secret, and all he got out of his $10 million was a frantic call from Abrams, telling him to get his money back -- although there was no way, because Lt. Col. Oliver North, keeper of the Swiss bank account where the sultan's donation was last seen, had been fired.

Abrams ought to do a land-office business with his manual, "Private Sector Fund-Raising in the Third World."

North, of course, would be on hand. He's in full uniform presiding over a raffle. "Guess the numbers on the Swiss bank account." Winners would step up to try their skill at a Daniel Ortega dartboard.

George Bush will be there, auctioning off a free lunch at the White House mess with his mysterious contra connection, Felix Rodriguez, or maybe it's Max Gomez.

Admiral Pointdexter is hawking palm cards for possible witnesses at congressional hearings with the Fifth Amendment printed on them for handy reference.

For music, without which no bazaar is complete, how about a quartet? Let's have Shultz, Caspar Weinberger and Jeane Kirkpatrick, with Attorney General Ed Meese as lead singer. The selection: "Stand By Your Man."

How they get the returns to the jungles I don't know. Perhaps with the new B1 bomber, dropping dollars from the bomb bays instead of the usual stuff, although knowing this crowd, they'd probably secretly pack that, too, and detour over Managua.

Mary McGrory is a Washington Post columnist.

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