AN honest politician, according to the old Tammany Hall proscription, is one who stays bought.

By this guideline, Gen. Manuel "Pineapple" Noriega, the thief-king of Panama, is not an honest politician. True, he is many things besides. He is a drug-dealer, murderer, petty tyrant, arms dealer, money launderer, and thief. All and all, an unsavory character. Not a strong candidate for canonization.

But all of these things could be forgiven, as they have in the past, were it not for Noriega's wandering eyes. In fact, the United States government had an inkling for quite some time that Noriega was more than your average sweet dictator-next-door as far back as 1972, when U.S. intelligence received reports that Noriega was involved in heroin tracking into the United States. In 1980 the Justice Department had enough evidence that Noriega was involved in illegal arms deals to issue an indictment on conspiracy charges, but refrained from doing so. Later some of these arms turned up in the hands of the Sandinista forces.

"But what's a little smack? What harm can come from a few arms shipments to Communist rebels?" Reagan must have said to himself during all those years twixt then and now as he let Noriega carry on his entrepreneurial ventures. Noriega was our man in Panama; for years the CIA had considered him as one of their very own secret agents. So even if Noriega wasn't a particulary nice man, he was our man.

BUT even the nicest dictator starts begging the question when he refuses to stay bought. In Noriega's case, the alleged infidelity involved the Cuban government, with whom he was discovered to have long been swapping top secret tales. The United States government was shocked.

We thought we had his character analysis correct down to the last petty neurosis. After all, he seemed a textbook case of rabidly loyal third world dictator. Why, his sense of loyalty seemed so profound that his vicious jackboot secret police force were nicknamed after a breed of dog: dobermans. They dressed in black. A nice touch.

His sense of the system, which is so important in his line of work, seemed impeccable. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. You cover up my brutal rape and murder of a young girl, I'll cover up your minor felonies, too. So why did he turn his back on the country which had been scratching it for so long? Where did he go wrong?

We may never know. Somewhere, certainly, somehow, a little switch in the back of Noriega's head moved one notch past "Cleverly Evil" to "A Little-Too-Cleverly Evil." Maybe he just needed that extra bit of excitement. Maybe he wanted to see what it would be like.

AT any rate, no matter what the reasons, Manuel Noriega has provided interesting insight into exactly what the Reagan administration will and will not actually put up with when push comes to shove. For example, despite Nancy Reagan's "Just Say No To Drugs," we now have tangible proof that Ronald Reagan actually "Just Said Yes."

But perhaps the most interesting thing to come out of the Noriega scandal is that it represents the first time that the U.S. has parted ways with one of its puppets over ideological grounds. Marcos, the Shah, Baby Doc; sure, they were all slimebags. But we didn't recommend nonsmoking, aisle seats until their expulsion was already a de facto reality.

So as Gen. Manuel Noriega retreats into the bunker it is time for all the third world dictators of the Earth to take time out and contemplate their relationship with God, themselves, and the United States. Really, we don't ask for very much. Like the Harvard administration, the U.S. government asks that whatever you do, please do it behind closed doors. But the one thing we ask is that you don't plagarize, and don't start squawking to the Cubans. Okay?