By Leonard A. Cole

Washington Post

August 16, 1999; Page A15

Last month Secretary of Defense William S. Cohen warned that a biological weapons attack on American soil could be imminent. He urged the country to prepare for a "plague more monstrous than anything we have experienced.

"There is not a moment to lose," he said. Cohen's fevered warning typifies an official mood that has swung from complacency to disquieting hype. Even President Clinton has announced that the thought of a germ attack keeps him awake at night.

We have reason to be concerned about biological and chemical terrorism, and we are vastly enlarging programs for prevention, detection and response. But the drumbeat of frightening publicity seems to have given unsavory characters bad ideas. The number of false bioterrorism threats has mushroomed in the past year, costing taxpayers millions of dollars and disrupting the lives of more than 13,000 potential victims.

The hoaxes, almost all of which threatened people with exposure to anthrax, began in earnest at the end of 1998. In California and elsewhere, letters and phone calls warned that the deadly bacteria had been released at a variety of targets -- abortion clinics, antiabortion organizations, courthouses, churches, schools, newspaper buildings, even FBI offices. Although all turned out to be false alarms, many people were traumatized by the experience.

The suddenness of the hoax phenomenon is underscored by the fact that in the years before October 1998, fewer than a half-dozen anthrax threats had been recorded. Since then, according to the FBI, more than 200 threats have been logged. The cost of police, fire and emergency medical responses for a single incident runs as high as $500,000. In some instances, people in targeted areas were told to go home, place their clothes in a plastic bag and shower. In others, they were quarantined, endured scrubbing with a bleach solution and began taking antibiotics. After four or five hours in most cases, initial lab tests showed no evidence of anthrax. But obtaining definitive results takes several days, which prolongs the anxiety of those who thought they might have been exposed.

In fact, reactions to the alarms and rescue efforts have ranged from resignation to panic. Moreover, local emergency responses have sometimes been bizarre and confused. After an anthrax scare at an NBC news office in Atlanta, some individuals were made to undergo four decontamination washes. The final one was under a makeshift outdoor shower where distraught victims, attached to an IV line, had to scrub themselves in public view. During another anthrax threat, more than two-dozen people were brought outdoors to undress before being sent into a tent for a scrubbing with a bleach solution and cold water. After decontamination, two women were rushed to the hospital. One was having difficulty breathing, and the other had fallen unconscious from an allergic reaction to the bleach. Thus, for some people the anthrax scares have caused embarrassment, terror and near-tragedy.

The most compelling explanation for the rash of bioterrorism threats has been the ballooning of publicity and hype, especially about anthrax. The New York Times' Ondisc index lists 81 articles on "biological and chemical warfare" appearing in the paper in 1996. By 1998 the number in that category was 414. Similarly, the number mentioning "anthrax" grew from seven in 1996 to 122 in 1998.

The trend began in April 1997 with the nation's first major bioterrorism hoax, at the B'nai B'rith building in Washington. An anthrax threat there disrupted the downtown area as TV news cameras caught naked people being decontaminated outdoors. In a highly publicized performance in November, Cohen hoisted a five-pound bag of sugar on national TV, warning that an equivalent amount of anthrax could kill half the population of Washington. Then in February 1998, two men were arrested in Las Vegas on suspicion of carrying vials of anthrax. The material turned out to be a harmless vaccine. Still, official pronouncements and media coverage on anthrax were abounding -- about the danger of anthrax, the ease of making it into a weapon and the need to prepare for an attack.

Administration-backed funding for bioterrorism defense programs in several agencies has mushroomed from $91 million in 1998, to $244 million in 1999 and to an anticipated $334 million in 2000. Many experts think these amounts are appropriate. So it is hard to understand what purpose more doomsday rhetoric is supposed to have. In any case, no rhetoric should be acceptable that in the end spurs actions that traumatize thousands of citizens unnecessarily.

While the risk of bioterrorism may have increased in recent years, insisting that a real attack is imminent or inevitable is gratuitous. Indeed, continuing a stream of alarmist statements is likely to provoke only more anxiety and more hoaxes.

(The writer teaches political science at Rutgers University.)