By Sue Anne Pressley
                  Washington Post Staff Writer
                  Monday, February 14, 2000; Page A03

                  MIAMI—At the height of his fame last month, he made the cover of Time.
                  Until just recently, when his Miami relatives requested more privacy, news
                  cameras from around the world dogged his every step, and breathless
                  supporters gathered nightly outside his home, shouting "Elian!" as if he
                  were a rock star or a religious leader.

                  Now, 6-year-old Elian Gonzalez is facing what may be the most critical
                  period of his short, eventful stay in America. Coming up is what his Miami
                  relatives have said they always wanted for the young shipwreck survivor,
                  and what federal officials, saddled with a politically charged case, have
                  also wished for: Elian's day in court.

                  As important court dates approach, however, the case has become as
                  much an ugly family feud as an international debate about the conditions of
                  Fidel Castro's communist government in Cuba. The opposing parties--the
                  Miami relatives who believe he would have a better life with them and the
                  boy's father, who has the backing of Castro and President Clinton in his
                  insistence that Elian be returned--are no longer on speaking terms. And
                  almost every day, new revelations further muddy an issue that at its best
                  has never been black and white.

                  No sooner did the furor die down over questionable remarks made by one
                  of Elian's grandmothers on Cuban television about her recent visit here with
                  the boy than a new scandal erupted--this time, over the drunk-driving
                  convictions of two of Elian's great-uncles in Miami, including Lazaro
                  Gonzalez, 49, his temporary guardian. Even in this period of relative quiet,
                  when the usually voluble lawyers have been muzzled by a judge's order
                  and the crowds have retreated from outside the Little Havana home where
                  Elian is staying, there always seems to be something new to excite the
                  controversy.

                  Two court cases are pending. At its core, the case that begins to unfold in
                  federal court here on Feb. 22--and the only one that has any significance,
                  federal officials contend--boils down to a narrow question: Who has the
                  right to speak for the child? Many legal analysts say the federal court is
                  most likely to uphold the ruling by the Immigration and Naturalization
                  Service that only Elian's father, Juan Miguel Gonzalez, has that authority.
                  But the case has repeatedly defied tidy solutions.

                  "Will he ever go back to his father? I don't know. It's been such a
                  mercurial, unpredictable case--the politics of it have given it a life of its
                  own," said Bernard Perlmutter, director of the Children and Youth Law
                  Clinic at the University of Miami, who has discussed the case often on
                  network news shows. "I'm hoping, however, the federal judiciary will . . .
                  render a just decision, and once that decision becomes final, the INS will
                  act with dispatch to enforce it. But saying 'with dispatch' is kind of ironic at
                  this point, 80-plus days since the arrival of Elian."

                  As much as the Elian saga has dominated the national, and indeed
                  international, news, the coverage has been nothing like the furor in South
                  Florida. Beginning with the first reports about the child's rescue at sea on
                  Thanksgiving Day, Miami residents were subjected to a media
                  phenomenon that came to be called, "All Elian, All the Time."

                  There he was with an entourage at Disney World; flashing the
                  peace/victory sign to well-wishers outside his home; playing with a puppy
                  given to him by a U.S. congressman; chatting on a cell phone while
                  wearing wraparound shades. The small white house where he is staying
                  became a mecca for every Cuban American who believed the child
                  represented a symbolic victory over the loathed Castro. And the boy's
                  amazing tale of survival--how he clung to an inner tube for two long days
                  after his mother and 10 others had drowned--was repeated so often it
                  took on the resonance of a fable.

                  His was a story about which everyone had an opinion. Thousands of
                  demonstrators here and in Havana became emotionally involved in the
                  question of where he belonged. As the court moves toward a final
                  decision, the boy may be the only one who has nothing publicly to say; it is
                  unheard of for a child his age to testify, although a judge could speak
                  privately with him in chambers.

                  The case before U.S. District Judge William M. Hoeveler, who also
                  presided over the equally well-publicized trial of Panamanian Gen. Manuel
                  Noriega, turns on the issue of whether the Miami relatives even have the
                  standing to bring a case that Elian deserves political asylum, said Jan Ting,
                  a law professor at Temple University. The most likely scenario, Ting said,
                  is that Hoeveler would agree with the INS that they do not.

                  But Ting said, while it is unlikely, the judge also could decide to proceed to
                  "the substantive issue" of whether Elian should receive a political asylum
                  hearing. Ting doubts the child would qualify for political asylum, given the
                  narrow international standards--a fear of persecution based on race,
                  religion, nationality, social group or political opinion.

                  "It is unfortunate this has taken as long as it has--if this child was any
                  nationality but Cuban, he would have been returned to his father
                  immediately," said Ting, who served as INS assistant commissioner from
                  1990 to 1993. "I think the INS has chosen for political reasons to let it go
                  to court. . . . It is an obviously controversial issue, and frankly, they are
                  looking for political cover."

                  At any time, he said, the INS could act unilaterally to return Elian to Cuba,
                  but the agency does not seem inclined to take that step.

                  It is only in state family court on March 6, not in federal court, that recent
                  questions raised about the character of various relatives--or concerns
                  about the boy's emotional attachments in Miami and Cuba--might be
                  heard. But Attorney General Janet Reno already has said any family court
                  ruling would have no impact on what is essentially a federal case.

                  Several psychologists who have not met Elian, but have closely tracked the
                  case, say there are myriad issues that come into play as the boy's stay here
                  has lengthened, only beginning with the aftereffects of the loss of his mother
                  and his initial trauma at sea. There also have been the continuing separation
                  from his father, his school and his old life in Cuba; the understandable
                  bonds that have grown between the first-grader and his Miami relatives,
                  most especially his 21-year-old cousin, Marisleysis, who sees herself as his
                  surrogate mother; and the impact of media stardom on a 6-year-old
                  psyche.

                  "It's really a sad situation, because this is a very courageous youngster and
                  lovable as can be--he's cute as a bug," said Leonard Haber, a clinical
                  psychologist in Miami. "But the more he bonds with his extended family,
                  the worse it's going to be--time is his enemy. I have no doubt that's what
                  he's doing, and why not? If nice people would take you in and provide
                  your every wish, if you were living in a Haagen-Dazs factory, if you were
                  living in FAO Schwarz. He's now a full-time resident of storybookland."

                  Meanwhile, the rifts in his family are getting deeper, and more public.

                  First, Miami relatives were "very disturbed," their attorney Spencer Eig
                  said, when Elian's paternal grandmother in Cuba, Mariela Gonzalez, told
                  Cuban Television that she had teasingly bit the boy on the tongue and
                  pulled down his zipper to see if his "parts had grown" when she was trying
                  to loosen him up during their tense meeting here last month.

                  That revelation prompted a group of 10 Cuban American psychologists to
                  call a news conference last week to denounce her behavior. "I'd be
                  concerned what kind of influence this lady may have on the rearing of the
                  child, if her views would be seen as guiding," said Jorge A. Herrera, a
                  psychologist in Coral Gables.

                  Then it was the Cuban relatives' turn to be outraged when the New York
                  Times disclosed last week that two of Elian's great-uncles in Miami had
                  been convicted of driving under the influence. Lazaro Gonzalez had two
                  convictions, in 1991 and 1997, in Miami-Dade County, and Delfin
                  Gonzalez, 63, had a conviction in 1991 in Monroe County, Fla., and in
                  1996 in Miami-Dade, according to state Department of Motor Vehicle
                  records.

                  The information could be used to bolster a request that Juan Miguel
                  Gonzalez filed last week with Reno, asking that his son be transferred to
                  the home of another great-uncle in Miami because of fears for the boy's
                  mental health. In the letter, the father cited Elian's association in Miami with
                  two cousins, Luis and Jose Cid, who have lengthy felony arrest records.

                  A Justice Department official said Friday that the father's request is still
                  under review, and had no comment about the additional information about
                  the great-uncles.

                  But Armando Gutierrez, the Miami political consultant who acts as the
                  Miami family's spokesman, played down the impact. "Number one, one of
                  them [Delfin] does not live at the house, and number two, Lazaro made a
                  mistake and he learned by it. It could happen to anybody," he said, adding
                  that no one should worry about Elian's welfare. "He's in a house with a lot
                  of love."

                  Perlmutter said that while the revelation does not help the Miami family's
                  contention that they can provide Elian with a better home, "in the end, this
                  will all be seen as something of a sideshow."

                  Whatever else unfolds in federal or state court, there is likely to be one
                  notable absence: Elian's father. He has emphatically said he will not come
                  here--and that it is up to Janet Reno to deliver his son.
 

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