From: jaske@abacus.bates.edu (Jon Aske)
Subject: Chomsky (Z-9/92): Vain hopes, part 5/7
Followup-To: alt.activism.d
Originator: rich@pencil.cs.missouri.edu
Organization: ?
Date: Thu, 3 Sep 1992 21:34:40 GMT

------------------------------------------------------
The following article by Noam Chomsky appeared in:
     Z Magazine, September 1992
and is reprinted here with the magazine's permission.
------------------------------------------------------
 
Vain Hopes, False Dreams (Part 5 of 7, 18KB)
========================
 
5. Interpretations: the early version
-------------------------------------
 
The final source of evidence on JFK's plans is the memoirs and
other comments of his advisers.  These come in two versions:
before and after the Tet offensive.  We review these in the next
two sections, then turning to the 1991-2 revival and revisions.
This survey only adds conviction to what we have already found.
 
Kennedy's commitment to stay the course was clear to those
closest to him.  As noted, Arthur Schlesinger shared JFK's
perception of the enormous stakes and his optimism that the
military escalation had reversed the "aggression" of the
indigenous guerrillas in 1962.  There is not a word in
Schlesinger's chronicle of the Kennedy years (1965, reprinted
1967) that hints of any intention to withdraw without victory.
In fact, Schlesinger gives no indication that JFK thought about
withdrawal at all.  The withdrawal plans receive one sentence in
his voluminous text, attributed to McNamara in the context of the
debate over pressuring the Diem regime.  There is nothing else in
this 940-page virtual day-by-day record of the Kennedy
Administration by its quasi-official historian.  Far more detail
had appeared in the press in October-December 1963.
 
These facts leave only three possible conclusions: (1) the
historian was keeping the President's intentions secret; (2) this
close JFK confidant had no inkling of his intentions; (3) there
were no such intentions.
 
By 1966, it was becoming clear that things were not going well in
Vietnam.  In his _Bitter Heritage_ (1966), Arthur Schlesinger
expressed concern that the US military effort had dubious
prospects, though "we may all be saluting the wisdom and
statesmanship of the American government" if it succeeds.
Referring to Joseph Alsop's predictions of victory, Schlesinger
writes that "we all pray that Mr. Alsop will be right," though he
doubts it.  The only qualms are tactical: what will be the cost
to us?  Schlesinger describes himself as holding high the spirit
of JFK.  He flatly opposes withdrawal, which "would have ominous
reverberations throughout Asia," and again gives no hint that
Kennedy ever considered such a possibility.
 
Another close associate, Theodore Sorenson, also published a
history of the Administration in 1965.  Sorenson was Kennedy's
first appointed official, served as his special counsel and
attended all NSC meetings.  He makes no mention of withdrawal
plans.  Quite the contrary.  Kennedy's "essential contribution,"
he writes, was to avoid the extremes advocated "by those
impatient to win or withdraw.  His strategy essentially was to
avoid escalation, retreat or a choice limited to these two, while
seeking to buy time..." He opposed withdrawal or "bargain[ing]
away Vietnam's security at the conference table." Sorenson's
conclusion is that JFK "was simply going to weather it out, a
nasty, untidy mess to which there was no other acceptable
solution.  Talk of abandoning so unstable an ally and so costly a
commitment `only makes it easy for the Communists,' said the
President. `I think we should stay'." So his account ends.
Again, we may choose among the same three conclusions.
 
No one was closer to JFK than his brother Robert.  He had
expressed his position in 1962: "The solution lies in our winning
it.  This is what the President intends to do... We will remain
here [in Saigon] until we do." In 1964 oral history, RFK said
that the Administration had never faced the possibilities of
either withdrawal or escalation.  Asked what JFK would have done
if the South Vietnamese appeared doomed, he said: "We'd face that
when we came to it." "Robert's own understanding of his brother's
position," his biographer Arthur Schlesinger reports, was that
"we should win the war" because of the domino effect.  The
problem with Diem, RFK added, was that we need "somebody that can
win the war," and he wasn't the man for it.  Accordingly, it is
no surprise that RFK fully supported Johnson's continuation of
what he understood to be his brother's policies through the 1965
escalation.
 
The last of the early accounts of the Kennedy Administration was
written by Roger Hilsman in late 1967, shortly before the Tet
offensive and well after severe doubts about the war were raised
at the highest levels.  He takes it for granted that the goal
throughout was "to defeat the Communist guerrillas." He writes
that had JFK lived, "he might well have introduced United States
ground forces into South Vietnam -- though I believe he would not
have ordered them to take over the war effort from the Vietnamese
but would have limited their mission to the task of occupying
ports, airfields, and military bases to demonstrate to the North
Vietnamese that _they_ could not win the struggle by escalation
either" -- the enclave strategy that had been advocated by Ball
and Taylor in early 1965, then by others.  The question of how to
respond to a collapse of the Saigon regime was delayed, he
writes, in the hope that it would not arise.  Hilsman feels that
LBJ "sincerely even desperately wanted to make the existing
policy work," without US combat forces, citing his statement of
Sept. 25, 1964 that "We don't want our American boys to do the
fighting for Asian boys." He cites the White House statement
announcing the adoption of the McNamara-Taylor October 1963
recommendations, adding nothing of substance to what was
published in the press at the time.  His only comment is that the
optimistic predictions on which withdrawal was predicated would
come "to haunt Secretary McNamara and the whole history of
American involvement in Vietnam."
 
The internal record of 1964 shows that Kennedy doves saw matters
much as described in the 1964-67 memoirs, and therefore continued
to support Johnson's policies, some pressing for further
escalation, others (Ball, Mansfield) praising Johnson for
choosing the middle course between escalation and withdrawal.
 
We have now reviewed all the crucial evidence: the events
themselves, the public statements, the record of internal
deliberations and planning, the opinions of the military, the
attitudes of the Kennedy doves, and the pre-Tet memoirs and
commentary.  The conclusions are unambiguous, surprisingly so on
a matter of current history: President Kennedy was firmly
committed to the policy of victory that he inherited and
transmitted to his successor, and to the doctrinal framework that
assigned enormous significance to that outcome; he had no plan or
intention to withdraw without victory; he had apparently given
little thought to the matter altogether, and it was regarded as
of marginal interest by those closest to him.  Furthermore, the
basic facts were prominently published at the time, with more
detail than is provided by the early memoirs.
 
6. The Record Revised
---------------------
 
After the Tet Offensive, major domestic power sectors concluded
that the enterprise was becoming too costly to them and called
for it to be terminated.  President Johnson was, in effect,
dismissed from office, and policy was set towards disengagement.
The effect on the ideological system was dramatic.  The liberal
intelligentsia felt the "need to insulate JFK from the disastrous
consequences of the American venture in Southeast Asia," Thomas
Brown observes in his study of Camelot imagery. "Kennedy's role
in the Vietnam war is unsurprisingly...the aspect [of his public
image and record] that has been subjected to the greatest number
of revisions by Kennedy's admirers... The important thing was
that JFK be absolved of responsibility for the Vietnam debacle;
when the need for exculpation is so urgent, no obstacles --
including morality and the truth -- should stand in the way"
(_JFK: History of an Image_, 1988).
 
The latter comment relates specifically to one of the earliest
post-Tet efforts to revise the image, the 1972 memoir by White
House aide Kenneth O'Donnell, whose stories have assumed center
stage in the post-Tet reconstruction.  He writes that Kennedy had
informed Senator Mansfield that he agreed with him "on the need
for a complete military withdrawal from Vietnam," adding that he
had to delay announcement of "a withdrawal of American military
personnel" until after the November 1964 election to avoid
"another Joe McCarthy scare." In 1975, Mansfield told columnist
Jack Anderson that Kennedy "was going to order a gradual
withdrawal" but "never had the chance to put the plan into
effect," though he had "definitely and unequivocally" made that
decision; in 1978, Mansfield said further that Kennedy had
informed him that troop withdrawal would begin in January 1964
(which does not fit smoothly with the O'Donnell story).
 
Noting Mansfield's (partial) confirmation of O'Donnell's report,
Brown points out that "one need not reject this story out of
hand...to doubt that it was a firm statement of Kennedy's
intentions in Vietnam.  Like many politicians, JFK was inclined
to tell people what they wanted to hear." Every authentic
historian discounts such reports for the same reason: "Kennedy
probably told [Mansfield] what he wanted to hear," Thomas
Paterson observes.  The same holds for other recollections,
authentic or not, by political figures and journalists.
 
Whatever else he may have been, Kennedy was a political animal,
and knew enough to tell the Senate Majority Leader and other
influential people what they wanted to hear.  He was also keenly
sensitive to the opposition to his policies among powerful
Senators, who saw them as harmful to US interests.  He also was
aware that public support for the war was thin, as was McNamara
and others.  But JFK never saw the general discontent among the
public, press, and Congress as an opportunity to construct a
popular base for withdrawal; rather, he sought to counter it with
extremist rhetoric about the grand stakes.  He hoped to bring the
war to a successful end before discontent interfered with this
plan.  Had he intended to withdraw, he would also have leaped at
the opportunity provided by the GVN call for reduction of forces
(even outright withdrawal), and its moves toward political
settlement.  As for the right-wing, a President intent on
withdrawal would have called upon the most highly-respected
military figures for support, as already noted.  There is no
indication that this reasonable course was ever considered, again
confirming that withdrawal was never an option.
 
The O'Donnell-Mansfield story is hardly credible on other
grounds.  Nothing would have been better calculated to fan
right-wing hysteria than inflammatory rhetoric about the cosmic
issues at stake, public commitment to stay the course, election
on the solemn promise to stand firm come what may, and then
withdrawal and betrayal.  Furthermore, Mansfield's actual
positions differed from the retrospective version, as noted.  Far
more credible, if one takes such reconstructions seriously, is
General Wheeler's recollection in 1964 (not years later) that
Kennedy was interested in extending the war to North Vietnam.
 
Despite such obvious flaws as these, the O'Donnell-Mansfield
stories are taken very seriously by Kennedy hagiographers.
 
The Camelot memoirists proceeded to revise their earlier versions
after Tet, separating JFK (and by implication, themselves) from
what had happened.  Sorenson was the first.  In the earlier
version, Kennedy was preparing for the introduction of combat
troops if necessary and intended to "weather it out" come what
may, not abandoning his ally, who would have collapsed without
large-scale US intervention.  Withdrawal is not discussed.
Diplomacy is considered a threat, successfully overcome by the
overthrow of the Diem government.  But post-Tet, Sorenson is
"convinced" that JFK would have sought diplomatic alternatives in
1965 -- with the client regime in still worse straits, as he
notes.  The October 1963 withdrawal plan, unmentioned in the old
version, assumes great significance in the post-Tet revision,
with significant omissions: notably, the precondition of military
success.
 
Arthur Schlesinger entered the lists in 1978 with his biography
of Robert Kennedy.  Unlike Sorenson, he does not confine himself
to speculation about JFK's intent.  Rather, he constructs a new
history, radically revising his earlier account.  Thus, while the
pre-Tet versions gave no hint of any intent to withdraw without
victory, in the post-Tet biography of Robert Kennedy, JFK's
alleged withdrawal plans merit a full chapter, though RFK's
"involvement in Vietnam had been strictly limited before Dallas,"
Schlesinger observes.  This startling difference between the pre-
and Post-Tet versions is not attributed to any significant new
information, indeed is not mentioned at all.  In 1992, in a
review of Newman's book, Schlesinger went a step further,
claiming that he had put forth the JFK withdrawal thesis all
along.
 
Post-Tet, the October 1963 decisions, emerging from their earlier
obscurity, become "the first application of Kennedy's phased
withdrawal plan." Unmentioned before, this plan now serves as
prime evidence that Kennedy had separated himself from the two
main "schools": the advocates of counterinsurgency and of
military victory.  The plan shows that JFK was opposed to "both
win-the-war factions,...vaguely searching for a nonmilitary
solution." His public call for winning the war is apparently to
be understood as a ploy to deflect the right-wing.
 
Pre-Tet, it was JFK and Arthur Schlesinger who rejoiced over the
defeat of "aggression" in Vietnam in 1962.  Post-Tet, it is the
_New York Times_ that absurdly denounces "Communist
`aggression' in Vietnam," while "Kennedy was determined to
stall." And though RFK did call for victory over the aggressors
in 1962, he was deluded by "the party line as imparted to him by
McNamara and Taylor," failing to understand the huge gap between
the President's views and the McNamara-Taylor party line -- which
Schlesinger had attributed to the President, with his own
endorsement, in the pre-Tet version.  In the post-Tet version,
the Joint Chiefs join the _New York Times_, McNamara, and
Taylor as extremists undermining the President's moderate
policies.  Commenting on JCS Chairman General Lyman Lemnitzer's
invocation of the "well-known commitment to take a forthright
stand against Communism in Southeast Asia," Schlesinger writes
sardonically that it may have been "well-known" to the Chiefs,
but they "failed in their effort to force it on the President" --
who regularly voiced it in still more strident terms, including
several cases that Schlesinger had cited, pre-Tet: e.g., JFK's
fears of upsetting "the whole world balance" if the US were to
retreat in Vietnam.  Or, we may add his summer 1963 statement
that "for us to withdraw from that effort [to secure the GVN]
would mean a collapse not only of South Vietnam but Southeast
Asia," which Schlesinger quoted and praised as "temperate,"
pre-Tet (902-3).
 
This book and later Schlesinger efforts are so replete with
misrepresentation and error as to defy brief comment.  I will
return to them elsewhere.  They illustrate the seriousness of the
post-Tet endeavor, and its dim prospects.
 
The third early Kennedy memoirist, Roger Hilsman, has written
letters to the press responding to critics of the withdrawal
thesis in which he takes a stronger stand on JFK's intent to
withdraw than in his highly qualified 1967 comments.  His factual
references are misleading, but a close reading shows that Hilsman
is careful to evade the crucial questions: in particular, the
precondition of victory.  He cites Kennedy's statement that "it
is their war" to win or lose as proof of his plan to withdraw,
claiming without evidence that Johnson at once reversed that
intent.  He had said nothing of the sort pre-Tet; quite the
contrary, as we have seen (including the internal record).
Furthermore, if JFK's statement demonstrates his intent to
withdraw, we would have to draw the same conclusions about
McGarr, Taylor, Westmoreland, and LBJ.  That, of course, is
precisely why Hilsman makes no such claim in his 1967 memoir, in
which he emphasizes LBJ's statement that "We don't want our
American boys to do the fighting for Asian boys" to show his
"sincere" and "desperate" effort to carry out JFK's plans.  The
same holds of efforts by Schlesinger and others to read great
significance into JFK statements that were conventional and mean
little.
 
However informative they may be with regard to the duties and
responsibilities of cultural management, the post-Tet revisions
by leading Kennedy intellectuals have no value as history.
Rather, they _constitute_ a chapter of cultural history, one
that is of no slight interest, I believe.
 



Newsgroups: misc.activism.progressive