SECOND 

INDOCHINA WAR 

SYMPOSIUM 

PAPERS AND 

COMMENTARY 

Edited by 

JOHN SCHLIGHT 

THE SECOND 

INDOCHINA WAR 

Proceedings of a Symposium 

Held at Airlie, Virginia 

7-9 November 1984 

Edited by 

John Schlight 

CENTER OF MILITARY HISTORY 

UNITED STATES ARMY 

WASHINGTON, D.C., 1986 
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data 

The Second Indochina War. 

Proceedings of the Second Indochina War Symposium sponsored by 

the Center of Military History. 

Includes bibliographies. 

I. Vietnamese Conflict, 1961- 1975-Congresses. I. Schlight, J ohn. 

II. Second Indochina War Symposium (1984: Airlie, Va.) Ill. Center of 

Military History. 

DS557.7.S43 1986 959.704'3 85-21295 

CMH Pub 103-1 

First Printing 

For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government Printing Office 

Washington, D.C. 20402 
Preface 

What follows is a compilation of the papers, commentaries, and 

discussions of a symposium on the Second Indochina War held by 

the U.S. Army Center of Military History in November 1984 at Airlie 

House in Virginia. This conference was conceived and directed by 

Dr. Douglas Kinnard, the former Chief of Military History. His goal 

in selecting topics, papers, and conferees was to examine the current 

status of issues and scholarship relating to the war in Vietnam. The 

success of this conference, as reflected in this volume, was largely 

attributable to the validity of his original concept and his appreciation of the many factors surrounding that conflict. 

Several observations flowed from these meetings. First, it was 

evident that the passions which accompanied similar gatherings in 

the past had abated, permitting more objective analyses of the many 

issues still unresolved about the war. Second, there was a pronounced tendency to consider the conflict in a much larger international and domestic context than had been the case only a few years 

ago. Such issues as the war's effect on America's armed forces and on 

the nation's credibility, as well as earlier premonitions of an American retreat from global responsibility and a diminution at home of 

national pride, looked quite different when viewed from this expanded background. 

Third, there was a strongly expressed desire on the part of the 

scholars for more research on what Professor Walter LaFeber called 

the "bureaucratic engine room," namely, on those decisions below 

the presidential level that fueled the development of the commitment, the conduct of the war, and the eventual disengagement. Particularly needed, in the view of the conferees, are analyses of decisions made by the civilian leadership at the Pentagon, by the 

National Security Council, and by the armed services. This is a 

deficiency which the sponsors of the symposium, along with historians of the other armed services, are laboring to remedy. 

As with any historical event as far-reaching as the Vietnam conflict, many issues on various levels remain to be explored. The at· 

tendees discussed a number of them, and some of their views are 

Ul 
included in the final section of this volume. It is hoped that the 

inclusion of these issues will serve to stimulate further historical 

examination. 

Special thanks are due to these behind-the-scenes people whose 

work contributed to the success of the conference: Margaret Mauck, 

Lt. Col. Grady Smith, Arthur S. Hardyman, Sfc. Michael 

McManus, Sp5c. Bonnie Whicker, Bruce Hardcastle, and Stephen 

E. Everett. 

Although the Center of Military History sponsored the symposium, the views expressed by the participants are not necessarily 

those of the Center or the Department of the Army. 

Washington, D.C. 

28 May 1985 

lV 

JOHN SCHLIGHT 
Contents 

INTRODUCTION: Douglas Kinnard 

SECTION 1: THE EVOLUTION OF 

THE COMMITMENT 

THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR by 

Pagt 

3 

George C. Herring . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 

THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH 

DIEM by Herbert S. Parmet . . . . . . . . . 35 

EIGHT DECISIONS FOR WAR, JANUARY 1965-

FEBRUARY 1966 by Alexander S. Cochran, Jr. 65 

COMMENTARY: Walter LaFeber . . . . . . . . 85 

COMMENTARY: John Lewis Gaddis . . . . . . 91 

SECTION II: THE CONDUCT OF THE WAR 

CONDUCT OF THE WAR: STRATEGIC FACTORS, 

1965-1968 by Douglas Pike . . . . . . . . . . . . 99 

THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY by 

Richard A. Hunt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121 

THE DUAL-TRACK STRATEGY OF VIETNAMIZATION AND NEGOTIATION by Allan E. 

Goodman . . . . . . . . . . . 143 

COMMENTARY: Bruce Palmer, Jr. . . . . 153 

COMMENTARY: Robert W. Komer . . . . 161 

SECTION III: AFTERWARD 

THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE ARMY'S SELFIMAGE by Ronald H. Spector . . . . . . . . 169 

COMMENTARY: Edward M. Coffman . . . . . . 187 

AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM by 

Norman A. Graebner . . . . . . . . . . 193 

COMMENTARY: Richard D. Challener . . . 223 

THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE WESTERN 

ALLIANCE by Robert O'Neill . . . . . . 229 

v 
Page 

SECTION IV: DISCUSSION ISSUES 

1. The Impact of China and Korea on the American Commitment to Southeast Asia . . . . . . . . . . . . 247 

2. The Role of the Military in the Evolution of the Commitment to Southeast Asia . . . . . . . . . . . . 250 

3. The Reactions of Four Administrations to the Vietnam 

Dilemma . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253 

4. The Role of the Individual and of Personality in Decision Making . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255 

5. The Eurocentric Basis of America's Indochina 257 

Policy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 

6. The Effect of Public Opinion and Moral Factors on Decisions on the War . . . . . . . . . . 258 

7. The Strategy for Fighting the War 261 

8. The Feelings of U.S. Decision Makers on 

Vietnamization . . . . . . . . . . . . 263 

9. The Costs of the Nixon-Kissinger Policy . 263 

10. The Impact of Vietnam on the U.S. Army 265 

11 . The Reciprocal Effects Between the War and 

American Credibility . . . . . . . 267 

12. The Status of Scholarship on the War 269 

SYMPOSIUM PARTICIPANTS . 271 

SYMPOSIUM ATTENDEES . . 275 

Vl 
THE SECOND 

INDOCHINA WAR 

SYMPOSIUM 

Introduction 

Douglas Kinnard 

On behalf of the secretary of the Army and the chief of staff, I 

wish to extend to each of you a very warm welcome to the Center of 

Military History's symposium on the Second Indochina War. 

As anyone who has looked over the list of attendees can attest, we 

have gathered here four different, though complementary, groups of 

scholars. First, there are those who have made a specialty of the 

Second Indochina War and have published the results of their research. Secondly, there are those who have not focused on the war in 

particular but upon the times and the individuals who played major 

historical roles in decision making. Also present are some who participated in high-level decision making in Washington and Saigon. 

Finally, we have among us official historians, represented in the main 

by scholars from the U.S. Army Center of Military History. I would 

like to say a bit more about this final group and their approach. 

Most official historians are not academics, but they do bring to 

their work the high standards of scholarly inquiry found in academe. 

Writing books for an internal governmental audience, for a general 

audience, and for scholars, they have a duty to both the general 

public and the professional audience. They must continually seek the 

fine line between court history and the irresponsible use of privileged 

information. Nowhere has this been more true than in the study of 

the American role in the Second Indochina War. 

Selecting the agenda for a symposium is in itself a difficult and 

important matter, but select one must, and in so doing define the 

focus as to the period of time to be covered, the geographical area of 

major interest, aspects of the war to be covered, and finally the 

viewpoint from which the war is to be treated. Many combinations 

are possible, and no small determinant is the pool of available talent. 

In the case of this symposium the agenda is divided into three 

sections. The first section deals with the question of how and why the 

3 
United States got involved in Vietnam, a question that still excites 

and divides scholars. Existing interpretations of the genesis of this 

involvement extend from the broadest to the narrowest, proposing 

causes that range from the more remote to the- most proximate. In the 

first category, explanations see American involvement as the product 

of realpolitik as expressed in the policy of containment and as the 

inevitable result of the possession of immense power by the United 

States. More immediate causal theories emphasize the imperatives of 

domestic politics, the inherent tendency of decision makers to place 

excessive faith in the efficacy of power, America's misperception of 

Vietnam as a Western nation, or a misunderstanding of the motives 

of the Vietnamese. All of these views and others, individually and in 

combination, figure into presentations, discussions, and writings on 

the war. 

Widely divergent opinions also persist over the strategy pursued 

in Vietnam, the subject of the second section. One major issue speaks 

to the general nature of the war. Was it an insurgency or a conventional war? A further set of issues addresses the manner in which the 

allied forces were employed. Some argue that allied military power 

was misused as a signal of our desires for negotiation rather than as 

an instrument for defeating the enemy. Restrictions on the use of 

military power figure prominently in these arguments. Some, particularly among those who fought in the war, pointed to an absence of 

clear political objectives that rendered futile the efforts to devise an 

effective strategy. Further, many questions remain concerning Vietnamization: the seriousness with which American decision makers 

viewed it, the possibility of its success, and the reasonableness of 

expecting the South Vietnamese to shoulder such a burden successfully. There even remains disagreement as to whether or not it actually did work. Finally, there is the overarching question of what went 

wrong (or, indeed, whether anything went wrong). One school of 

thought highlights the series of blunders purported to have spelled 

defeat for the allies. Another suggests that, on the contrary, the 

American decision-making system produced as it was supposed to. 

Perhaps we can shed some new light on these and other nagging but 

important questions. 

The third section looks at the immediate results of the war. One 

issue of interest to Army historians is the conflict's impact on the 

United States Army. Near the war's end and on through the seventies, the Army experienced an "identity crisis" which, in the view of 

some, greatly impaired its effectiveness. The degree to which this 

4 
degradation resulted from Vietnam rather than from general societal 

developments remains a subject for inquiry. A further issue centers 

on the all-volunteer Army. The draft ended just as American participation in the war was winding down, and the resultant all-volunteer 

Army must be counted among the effects of Vietnam. The absence 

of conscription has had a pervasive impact on the Army and must be 

included in any postmortem on the war. 

Vietnam's effect on American foreign policy is also open for 

reinterpretation. To what degree did the Southeast Asian experience 

alter America's approach to the rest of the world? Did the United 

States abandon its policy of containment or did it only shelve it 

temporarily? Did America's tarnished image impair its ability in the 

seventies to project its power and achieve satisfactory negotiations in 

other areas? 

These and other unresolved issues form the basis for this symposium. It is my hope that this group might be stimulated toward new 

directions in their research and methodological approaches to the 

war. 

5 

SECTION I 

The Evolution of the Commitment 

The Legacy of the First Indochina War 

George C. Herring 

The First Indochina War laid the basis for, defined the contours 

of, and to a considerable degree influenced the outcome of the longer 

and more destructive conflict that followed. It also gave rise to the 

original U.S. commitment to South Vietnam. This paper will examine the legacy of the war of 1946-1954. It will focus on the Geneva 

Conference and its aftermath and will devote particular attention to 

the Eisenhower administration's commitment to South Vietnam in 

late 1954, a decision of major importance in the escalation of U.S. 

involvement and as yet relatively unstudied by scholars. 

The fundamental consequence of the First Indochina War was 

that it did not resolve the basic issues over which the war had been 

fought. The French and Viet Minh had gone to war in 1946 because 

they could not resolve by diplomacy the questions of the political 

unity of Vietnam and the future French role in ,Indochina. Despite 

eight years of bloody fighting and the loss of thousands of lives, the 

First Indochina War did not settle these issues. The Geneva Accords 

paid lip service to the eventual reunification of Vietnam, calling for 

national elections in two years to decide the political fate of the 

country. It seems clear, however, that of the participants and interested bystanders at the Geneva Conference, only the Vietnamese 

were committed to unification, and they were divided among themselves on who should control the country once unified. The accords 

also contained a somewhat evasive French pledge to respect the 

independence and territorial integrity of the Indochinese states, but 

they did not specify any terms for French withdrawal, and it is clear 

that the French sought to play a continued role in their former 

colonies. Geneva1 in Stanley Karnow's apt phrase, was a "military 

truce that awaited a political settlement, which never happened." 1 

During the debate of the 1960s, the failure of the Geneva Accords 

was usually blamed on North Vietnam or the United States. The 

9 
10 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

U.S. government contended that Geneva had permitted two separate 

governments in Vietnam and accused North Vietnam of subverting 

the agreements by trying to destroy South Vietnam. On the other 

hand, North Vietnam and American doves insisted that the Geneva 

mechanisms calling for a unified nation had been blatantly violated 

by South Vietnam and the United States. 

Such arguments indicate, if nothing else, that the Geneva Accords were sufficiently ambiguous to lend themselves to different 

interpretations. The availability of new U.S. documents and scattered evidence from other parts of the world now make clear, moreover, that the failure of the Geneva Conference had much more 

complex roots. 

The brilliance of the Viet Minh victory at Dien Bien Phu in May 

1954 has obscured the extent to which the persistence of military 

stalemate in Indochina shaped the indecisive peace settlement at 

Geneva. The French lost 1,500 dead, 4,000 wounded, and as many 

as 10,000 captured, and the Viet Minh victory was a devastating 

blow to French morale in Indochina and at home. The French position in the Tonkin Delta after Dien Bien Phu was especially precarious. General Henri Navarre pleaded for reinforcements, and the 

high command discussed the possibility of pulling back all French 

forces to a defensive line along the Hanoi-Haiphong axis.2 On the 

other side, however, the Viet Minh paid an enormous price for their 

success. They may have invested as much as 25 percent of their assets 

at Dien Bien Phu, and French sources estimate their losses as high 

as 25,000- 10,000 of these killed in action. The heavy losses and 

badly strained supply lines made it very difficult for the Viet Minh 

to capitalize on their victory. In the aftermath ofDien Bien Phu, the 

French thus retained a sizable army in Vietnam and still controlled 

the major cities. In the south, the Viet Minh controlled no more than 

one-half the territory and one-third of the population. The Viet Minh 

victory, although stunning, was incomplete.3 

Even had the Viet Minh been capable of pressing their military 

advantage, they might not have been able to do so. By the spring of 

1954, the Indochina War had become internationalized, and its 

eventual settlement owed more to the allies of the belligerents than 

the belligerents themselves. 

The Viet Minh by this time were heavily dependent on the Soviet 

Union and China, who for their own reasons were eager for a settlement of the war. The Soviet leadership that had succeeded Stalin in 

1953 apparently sought an easing of world tensions to consolidate its 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 11 

position at home, and the Russians wanted to conciliate France to 

discourage French membership in the American-sponsored 

European Defense Community. The Soviets appear to have taken the 

lead in the late summer of 1953 in proposing and urging Viet Minh 

acceptance of a negotiated settlement of the war. During the Geneva 

Conference, Foreign Minister V. M. Molotov played the unusual 

role of conciliator and, along with British Foreign Minister Anthony 

Eden, sponsored a compromise peace. 

China's role was more important. Chinese aid to the Viet Minh 

had expanded from an estimated 2,000 tons per month in 1951 to 

10,000 tons per month in late 1953, and the Chinese also provided 

sanctuary for and assisted in the training of Viet Minh soldiers. 

Chinese artillery and antiaircraft guns played an important part in 

the battle of Dien Bien Phu, and China had considerable leverage 

over the Viet Minh. Chinese interests seem to have dictated a compromise settlement. Only just having taken power, the Chinese Communists had suffered heavily in the Korean War, and they needed a 

period of peace to repair their losses and promote domestic development. They may have wished to wean themselves away from dependence on the Soviet Union and to this end sought increased trade 

with the Western nations. They seem most of all to have wanted 

recognition and admission to the United Nations as confirmation of 

their great power status, and thus they sought to conciliate the West. 

The Chinese seem especially to have feared that a French collapse in 

Indochina would leave a vacuum which the United States might fill. 

China therefore pushed the Viet Minh toward a compromise settlement that cost them some of the fruits of their military success. 

The United States was not a formal party to the negotiations at 

Geneva, but it played a major role and its influence may have been 

decisive to the outcome. Certain that the Viet Minh were an instrument of the Soviet drive for world domination and that a Viet Minh 

victory would be intolerable to the "free world," the United States 

since 1950 had sustained France with ever-increasing quantities of 

military assistance. Equally certain that France's colonial goals were 

counterproductive, Washington had sought in vain to persuade Paris 

to promise the Indochinese complete independence. When the possibility of a Viet Minh victory at Dien Bien Phu in early 1954 seemed 

to increase the chances of the loss of Indochina to communism, the 

Eisenhower administration began seriously to contemplate U.S. military intervention. Admitting that he was "bitterly opposed" to 
12 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

putting American military forces into the ''jungles" of Indochina, 

Eisenhower went on to inform his National Security Council that the 

United States could not forget its vital interests there. Comparing 

Indochina to a "leaky dike," he warned that with such things "it is 

sometimes better to put a finger in than to let the whole structure be 

washed away."4 

During the Dien Bien Phu crisis, the United States considered 

military intervention on several occasions. Eisenhower toyed with 

what he called a Flying Tiger operation, American pilots flying unmarked planes on bombing missions against the Viet Minh positions 

around the French fortress. 5 The administration rejected this idea, as 

well as Admiral Arthur Radford's proposals for a series of heavy 

American bombing attacks at Dien Bien Phu, perhaps even using 

atomic weapons. Eisenhower and Secretary of State John Foster 

Dulles instead settled on a plan called United Action, which provided for the United States to intervene militarily in Indochina as 

part of a coalition including Great Britain, Australia, New Zealand, 

and a number of Pacific nations. The plan was designed to deter 

possible Chinese intervention in Indochina, to prevent a French 

defeat on the battlefield or at the conference table, or, if the latter 

occurred, to fill the vacuum in Indochina. Firmly opposed to putting 

U.S. ground troops in Indochina, the administration planned, in 

Dulles' words, to do those things "we can do better," using naval and 

air power and training Vietnamese troops. United Action might have 

been implemented had not congressional leaders insisted that British 

participation and French willingness to share direction of the war 

must precede a U.S. commitment and had not the British and French 

balked.6 

With the failure of United Action and the fall of Dien Bien Phu, 

Eisenhower and Dulles set out to block a settlement at Geneva. 

Dulles' refusal to participate directly in the talks and his bull-in-thechina-shop diplomacy at Geneva have become part of America's 

diplomatic folklore. More important and less well known, the administration for much of the first month of the conference attempted to 

negotiate with France arrangements for U.S. military intervention in 

Indochina. Sensing in the opening stages of Geneva a French willingness to "internationalize" the war, Dulles and Eisenhower drafted a 

set of conditions for U.S. intervention. Thejoint Chiefs ofStaffdrew 

up detailed contingency plans for deploying U.S. forces, one provision of which was that nuclear weapons would be used if it were 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST I NDOCHINA WAR 13 

militarily advantageous. 7 Administration officials drafted a joint congressional resolution authorizing the president to employ military 

forces in Indochina and worked out an elaborate scenario, even to the 

point of setting a date, for going to Congress with the request for 

authority to intervene.8 Some scholars have suggested that these 

frantic activities were largely bluff, but the administration's close 

attention to detail, its apparent seriousness of intent, and its willingness to compromise important points to secure agreement with 

France would appear to suggest otherwise.9 

As in April, however, the United States and France could not 

agree on the terms of intervention. Washington wanted Paris to 

commit itself to stay in the war indefinitely, share direction of military operations with the United States, and leave Indochina once 

victory had been attained. France hoped to use the threat of U.S. 

intervention as a bargaining lever at Geneva, and it wanted U.S. 

military assistance to be available should its position in Indochina 

appear on the verge of collapse. The French were determined to 

extricate themselves from the war on the most favorable terms, but 

they still wanted to salvage some influence in Indochina, and they 

were not at all eager to sell out their freedom of action to the United 

States. They agreed merely to "discuss" the American conditions 

and added conditions of their own. The talks dragged on inconclusively and broke down completely in mid-June when the government 

of Joseph Laniel was replaced by a government headed by Pierre 

Mendes-France and committed to a negotiated settlement. 1

0 

Although the United States, Great Britain, and France had 

worked at cross-purposes during the first phase of the Indochina 

crisis, the allies managed to orchestrate a coordinated approach in 

the final critical stages of the Geneva Conference. Mendes-France 

took office on condition that he would resign if a settlement were not 

reached by 21 July, a ploy that alarmed Washington but seems 

eventually to have worked to France's advantage. Desperately fearful 

of a breakdown of the negotiations and an expanded war, British 

Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden struggled tirelessly for a settlement, 

even to the point of working with the despised Dulles. Abandoning 

with some reluctance its hopes of blocking a settlement and continuing the war, the Eisenhower administration in mid-June shifted to a 

policy of salvaging as much oflndochina as possible. Dulles secured 

British and French agreement to a set of minimum acceptable terms 

that permitted Western influence in Laos, Cambodia, and the 
14 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

southern part of Vietnam. Although there was little chance by this 

time that the United States would enter the war, the secretary's 

public bluster, his threats to pull the U.S. delegation out of Geneva 

entirely, and his well-timed and much publicized arrival in Paris on 

13July seemed to keep the possibility alive and impressed upon allies 

and adversaries alike the importance of negotiating a settlement. 11 

Under this kind of pressure, an agreement was hastily worked out 

in the frantic five days before the expiration of Mendes-France's 

deadline. Apparently concerned by the possible consequences of a 

breakdown of negotiations, the Soviet Union and especially China 

persuaded the Viet Minh to make concessions that made possible a 

settlement and served French and American interests admirably. 

The Viet Minh abandoned their untenable claims for influence in 

Laos and Cambodia, agreeing to governments that were likely to be 

pro-Western provided that no foreign bases were permitted. On the 

more important and difficult Vietnam settlement, French sources 

confirm that Chinese Foreign Minister Chou En-lai compelled the 

Vietnamese to accept a partition line at the 17th Parallel instead of 

the 13th, a concession which cost them several provinces where they 

had firm control and left in French hands the city of Hue, an air base 

at Tourane (Da Nang), and a key military road into Laos and Thailand. On the equally critical issue of elections, the Viet Minh under 

Chinese and Soviet pressure reluctantly accepted a two-year delay 

instead of the early elections they were certain would be more to their 

advantage. 12 

The reasons why the Soviets and Chinese forced their ally to 

accept less than it thought it was entitled to can probably never be 

established with precision. No doubt they both placed their own 

interests above those of the Viet Minh. Soviet indifference about 

Southeast Asia during these years is well known.

13 The Chinese seem 

to have been deeply concerned about the prospect of U.S. intervention in Southeast Asia, or at least they played on such fears to 

persuade the Viet Minh to accept terms which suited China better. 

Both the Russians and the Chinese may have assumed complacently 

that the Viet Minh could easily prevail given the conditions in Vietnam and that they had done all that was required of an ally. Viet 

Minh delegate to Geneva, Pham Van Dong, complained then and 

later that Chou had "doubled-crossed" his Vietnamese ally, and the 

Hanoi government later minimized the threat of U.S. intervention 

and accused the Chinese of denying the Viet Minh a victory that was 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 15 

within their reach. 14 Other evidence suggests, however, that the Viet 

Minh themselves were fearful of U.S. intervention and willingly accepted a settlement that seemed to keep the United States out of 

Vietnam and gave them a reasonable chance of prevailing by political means. 15 

Thus was consummated what Canadian diplomat John Holmes 

called "a nasty bargain accepted by all parties as the only way to 

avoid a dangerous confr:ontation." 16 The Geneva Agreements did not 

settle the essential issues over which the war had been fought. The 

terms were vague in critical places, and from the outset even those 

without a direct stake in the outcome viewed their meaning quite 

differently. Holmes had been present at Geneva and assumed that 

the essence of the deal was that Laos and Cambodia would be neutral 

while Vietnam would "be allowed to proceed in due course and by 

the most respectable methods into the Communist camp." 17 On the 

other hand, Australian Foreign Minister Richard Casey and some 

British officials, like the Eisenhower administration, saw the partition of Vietnam as a means to "save" at least part of that country for 

the West. 18 The manner in which the agreement was handled was 

unusual ifnot indeed unique in the annals of diplomacy and reflected 

the tenuous nature of the settlement itself. The United States and the 

non-Communist government of what would become South Vietnam 

refused to associate themselves with the formal agreements. The 

other parties signed only the cease-fire agreement and merely listed 

their names on the political "instruments." 

It is now quite clear, moreover, that for the principals Geneva 

reversed Clausewitz's classic dictum, diplomacy representing in this 

case a continuation of the war by other means. Before the ink was dry 

on the Geneva Accords, indeed even before the terms had been 

agreed upon, the various parties were maneuvering to achieve their 

objectives. The outlines of future conflict were evident long before the 

conference ended. 

Despite the concessions they had been forced to make, the Viet 

Minh seem to have believed that they had secured an agreement that 

would make possible attainment of their long-range goal of a unified 

Vietnam under their control. They preferred partition to a "leopardspot" solution. Enclaves would restrict party operatives to isolated 

areas, making it difficult to protect and enlarge existing political 

networks, while partition would provide a solid base from which 

expansion could take place. Although obviously they would have 
16 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

preferred better terms, party leaders seemed generally content with 

the Geneva Accords and may even have been complacent about 

future prospects. At the Sixth Plenum in July 1954, however, Viet 

Minh leaders made clear that if the political framework provided by 

Geneva failed to produce the desired results, force would be employed.19 

China hinted at its willingness to accept a two-Vietnam policy 

even before the delegates had departed Geneva. At a dinner party on 

22 July, Chou En-lai not only invited a representative of the nonCommunist Vietnamese government but also suggested that his government open a diplomatic mission in Peking. Conceding aloud that 

China was closer to the Viet Minh ideologically, Chou went on to 

note that this should not preclude dealing with another Vietnamese 

government. "After all," he concluded, "aren't you both Vietnamese, 

and aren't we all Asians."20 

The maneuvering on the non-Communist side is more easily 

documented and was quite intense. Despite the disaster at Dien Bien 

Phu, the French remained determined to salvage something in Vietnam. Foreign Minister Georges Bidault told U.S. Undersecretary of 

State Walter Bedell Smith in the opening days of Geneva that France 

had not fought eight years simply to walk out of the country.21 

Taking into account the possibility that the Viet Minh at some point 

might gain control of the entire country, the French maintained 

diplomatic contact with their enemy and sought to promote influence 

with the Viet Minh leadership. At the same time, however, they 

carefully l~id plans for building a non-Communist state which would 

be willing to accept a continued French role. Like the Viet Minh, 

France rejected a leopard-spot solution in favor of partition which 

would provide a defensible line beyond which there would be no 

enemy enclaves. The French grudgingly abandoned Hanoi and 

Haiphong, in part because they perceived that to remain there would 

require them to concede the Viet Minh a position in Saigon.22 In any 

case, they privately made clear their intention to promote a nonCommunist state in southern Vietnam. French diplomats held out 

for the longest possible delay in scheduling elections to ensure the 

best possible results. They urged the United States to assist them in 

mounting a "dramatic propaganda campaign" to persuade as many 

as one million Vietnamese to move below the partition line, at least 

one reason being so that their votes might be used.23 A top French 

official told U.S. Ambassador C. Douglas Dillon shortly after Geneva 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 17 

that Mendes-France "would use the devil himself' to win the 

elections.24 Behind the scenes, French delegate to Geneva Jean 

Chauvel assured the Americans that Mendes-France's policy was to 

establish a "solid foundation on which to build a solid durable state," 

and he even spoke optimistically of the possibility at some future 

point "of regaining complete control of national territory from the 

Vietmi nh. "25 

The United States was moving along parallel lines-to a point. 

Having reluctantly acquiesced in the partition ofVietnam, Dulles set 

out to salvage as much oflndochina as possible. He bound Eden and 

Mendes-France to accept only an agreement that would permit economic and military assistance to Laos, Cambodia, and "free" Vietnam. The United States fully agreed with France on the necessity of 

delaying elections, because, as Dulles told the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, "as things stand now, it is probable that Ho Chi 

Minh would get a large vote. "26 It also held out for inclusion of a 

Western nation (eventually Canada) on the international body that 

would supervise the elections so that if necessary the United States 

would have the capacity to "block things. "27 Dulles was concerned 

about the partition arrangements because the "most virile" Vietnamese lived above the 17th Parallel. Like the French, however, he 

was attracted by the possibility of encouraging as many as a million 

Catholics to move south. Such a population shift might be enough to 

prevent Ho Chi Minh from winning the elections, or, if prospects 

appeared unfavorable, the Democratic Republic of Vietnam might 

not even want to go through with the elections.28 In their most 

optimistic moments, the Americans, like the French, conjured up 

scenarios for ultimate bloodless victory. Smith commented on one 

occasion that if southern Vietnam could be built up politically and 

cleaned out ofViet Minh, and after the people of North Vietnam had 

had a taste of living under communism, "after two years there was 

hope tlhat elections would turn out favorably. »29 

Leaving as little to chance as possible, the administration initiated in Vietnam the covert operations ~t had employed successfully 

in other areas. While Dien Bien Phu was still under siege, CIA agent 

Edward Lansdale had been appointed to head a special operations 

team in Vietnam. Lansdale had helped the government of the Philippines wage a successful counterinsurgency war against Huk insurgents, and his assignment in Vietnam included such things as establishing political contacts with the non-Communist Vietnamese, 
18 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

instructing them in the art of unconventional warfare, and encouraging them to launch operations against the Viet Minh. Lansdale 

arrived in Saigon on 1 June. After Geneva, the size of his mission was 

enlarged, and he launched a wide range of activities including encouraging the shift of people from North to South Vietnam and 

sabotage operations against the North Vietnamese.30 

For the short term, the United States and France agreed on the 

necessity of establishing a viable South Vietnam, but the two allies 

di.lfered fundamentally on long-range goals. Throughout the First 

Indochina War, U.S. officials had been certain that Viet Minh successes were primarily a function of France's military ineptitude and 

reactionary political goals. Eisenhower and Dulles recognized the 

importance ofFrance's remaining in Indochina temporarily to forestall a Viet Minh takeover. For the long run, however, their hope was 

to "salvage something" in Indochina "free of the taint of French 

coloniaHsm." If a durable, non-Communist state was to be established, France must eventually leave Indochina and let the United 

States work with the "natives. "31 

Clinging for their very survival, the "natives" seem to have 

reached similar conclusions. Alternately suspicious that the French 

were going'to sell them out to the Communists or revive their old 

plans for a French-dominated Cochinchinese state, the nonCommunist Vietnamese struggled at Geneva to break free of their 

dependence on France. Using language he must have thought would 

be music to American ears, the Emperor Bao Dai affirmed that he 

was eager to "revitalize the Vietnamese struggle against Communism" and to substitute for French military caution a ''fighting offensive army." Affirming his commitment to a "new policy of independence," he sent out not so subtle signals seeking U.S. support, and 

he even inquired under what circumstances the United States might 

intervene in the war.32 

One apparent result of these maneuvers that Bao Dai would live 

to regret was the emergence to power of his old adversary Ngo Dinh 

Diem. The route Diem took to the premiership of South Vietnam 

remains unclear. The Catholic leader approached the United States 

as early as 1951, among other things attacking Bao Dai's government, making clear his own anticommunism and nationalism, and 

on one occasion speaking "somewhat wistfully" of his hope that U.S. 

troops might be used in Vietnam. 33 Diem's virulent francophobia 

seems to have been too much for Dean Acheson's State Department, 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 19 

and U.S. officials felt that the self-exiled Vietnamese political figure 

was too rigid, too Catholic, and too monkish to be an effective leader 

of non-Communist Vietnam. 34 Diem did come to the attention of 

General William Donovan of OSS fame, however, and Donovan at 

this time was orchestrating from his Wall Street office a global network of anti-Communist operations of significant proportions. 

Donovan and the Catholic lobby in Washington with or without the 

support of the CIA may have forced Diem on a reluctant Bao Dai. 

Or the emperor may have turned to Diem as part of his broader 

strategy of enlisting American support to break free from French 

dominance. Whatever the case, Diem assumed the premiership of 

Bao Dai's government in the midst of the Geneva Conference.35 

Once in power, Diem, with Bao Dai's blessing, did everything 

possible to block a settlement at Geneva. Eventually resigning himself to the harsh reality of some kind of partition, he pleaded with the 

Americans to prevent the French from abandoning Hanoi. Manifesting the disdain for southerners that would make his task ofleadership 

extraordinarily difficult, he warned that it would be "practically 

impossible" to form a viable non-Communist state without Hanoi 

because the Cochinchinese were "too easy going either [to] become 

soldiers or to resist Communist subversion."36 On numerous occasions in his first months in power, he echoed what would become a 

standard refrain-South Vietnam could not be saved without U.S. 

intervention. He disassociated the Bao Dai government from the 

Geneva settlement and vowed to fight it. The battle lines of the 

Second Indochina War had thus taken form before the First Indochina War had officially ended. 

In the struggle that followed, the balance offorces from the outset 

would be markedly uneven, this also a central legacy of the First 

Indochina War. To be sure, Ho Chi Minh's Democratic Republic of 

Vietnam (DRV) faced a formidable challenge in consolidating its 

position in the countryside, establishing control in the urban areas 

where its influence had been limited, and building a modern economy from a primitive, war-shattered base. The ten to fifteen thousand Viet Minh operatives left in the South to maintain the party 

apparatus and promote unification by legal and extralegal means 

were bitterly disillusioned by the Geneva. settlement and extremely 

vulnerable to attacks from the South Vietnamese government and its 

French and American supporters.37 
20 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

On the other hand, the new Hanoi government had numerous 

advantages. Fourteen million of an estimated population of twentyfive million lived above the 17th Parallel, and the northerners were 

generally conceded to be of a more vigorous disposition. North Vietnam had at its disposal a large, reasonably well equipped modern 

army whose performance in battle had mystified westerners and 

produced great victories against the French.38 The party machinery 

had been constructed with painstaking care and functioned 

smoothly. Ho Chi Minh was the best known nationalist leader in all 

of Vietnam, and the Viet Minh had earned broad popular respect for 

having led the struggle against France. Many northerners were antiCommunist and the regime was not without internal opposition. 

Ironically, however, the emigration of as many as a million Catholics 

to the South probably did the DRV a favor by removing a large 

dissident group that might have complicated consolidation of its 

control. 

In South Vietnam, chaos reigned from the outset. The economy 

was devastated by the war. Anti-Communists were dispirited by the 

Geneva settlement and uncertain as to American and French intentions. Among some southerners there was sentiment for unification 

even at the expense of Communist domination. Political fragmentation had been a way of life in southern Vietnam for years and had 

been deliberately cultivated by the French as a means to divide and 

conquer. It was perhaps the fundamental reality of post-Geneva 

South Vietnam. The Viet Minh retained pockets of control, even on 

the doorstep of Saigon. The so-called sects ruled the Mekong Delta 

and the suburbs of Saigon as fiefdoms and maintained their own 

private armies. Within weeks after Geneva, northern Catholics 

began pouring into predominantly Buddhist South Vietnam at the 

rate of 7,000 a day, adding new religious and ethnic tensions to an 

already volatile mix.39 

The twin legacies of French colonialism and seven years of war 

brought problems that would have taxed the most effective leaders, 

but the rickety structure inherited from the French was a government 

in name only. During its brief existence it had been noted primarily 

for its Western orientation, its compliance with French wishes, and 

its ineffectuality. French General Henri Navarre contemptuously 

dismissed the Vietnamese leaders as a "band ofmarionettes."40 Most 

of them had been to European schools; many had European wives. 

They spent much of their time and energy protecting their political 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 21 

flanks against potential rivals and promoting their personal enrichment. The army had been created by the French out of desperation 

in the last stages of the war, and Navarre conceded that it was little 

more than a "rabble. " 41 As many as half of the soldiers stationed in 

the North after Geneva deserted rather than regroup to the South. 

Presiding over the chaos, usually from afar, was the Emperor Bao 

Dai, whose reputation as a playboy was exceeded only by his notoriety for incompetence-"not by education or personality the stuff of 

which Churchills are made," U.S. Ambassador Donald Heath 

lamented with marvelous understatement.42 Dulles readily conceded 

during Geneva that turning loose Bao Dai's government would be 

like "putting a baby in a cage of hungry lions."43 

The arrival of Ngo Dinh Diem in Saigon offered little reason for 

encouragement. Indeed, what is striking in retrospect is the extent to 

which early estimates ofDiem pointed toward the tragic denouement 

of 1 November 1963. Praising Diem's integrity and "fire," Walter 

Bedell Smith expressed hope at Geneva that he might be a "real 

'find,"' even a "modern political Joan of Arc" who could "rally the 

country behind him."44 Privately, however, American officials were 

universally pessimistic, even despairing. Ambassador Dillon conceded Diem's "apparent sincerity, patriotic fervor, and honesty," but 

felt that he was "too unworldly and unsophisticated" to cope wih 

South Vietnam's problems. Dillon eventually came around to what 

he admitted was the "seemingly ridiculous prospect" that this "Yogilike mystic" should be given U.S. endorsement, but only, he quickly 

added, because the "standard set by his predecessors is so low. "45 

Within weeks after Diem took office, Charge Robert McClintock in 

Saigon characterized him as a "messiah without a message," complained ofhis "narrowness ofview," and commented scornfully that 

his only "formulated policy is to ask immediate American assistance 

in every form. »46 

Diem's first months in office did nothing to change these early 

unfavorable impressions. McClintock found the prime minister's 

only virtue to be his honesty and warned Washington that he was 

presiding calmly over the disintegration of South Vietnam.47 Even 

friendly observers conceded that Diem's Western orientation, his 

"ascetic background," his lack of a political base in the South, and 

his rigidity complicated his already staggering tasks of leadership.48 

According to Leo Cherne, later a founder of the American Friends of 

Vietnam, the fact that Diem was a northern Catholic in Buddhist 
22 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

South Vietnam was a liability that might be compared in American 

political terms to that of a "rigid, devout Roman Catholic antisegregationist Yankee opposing Herman Talmadge in Georgia."49 

In the first six months after Geneva, therefore, official and unofficial estimates of South Vietnam's chances of survival were without 

exception pessimistic. U.S. intelligence estimates emphasized the 

existence of a "dan~erous vacuum of leadership," and warned that 

adverse trends since the end of Geneva had increased the likelihood 

that the Communists would take over all of Vietnam by political 

means. 5° Top British civilian and military officials in Southeast Asia 

shared these appraisals.51 On one occasion, Dulles estimated at no 

better than one in three the chances of saving South Vietnam. In his 

more pessimistic moments, the odds fell to one in ten.52 Even the 

rabidly anti-Communist Cherne admitted that if a vote were held 

soon it would go heavily in favor of the Viet Minh. "There are two 

years to turn the tide," he warned Donovan. "The odds are heavily 

against freedom and this means that the effort must be gigantic. n:i:J 

Although it was unwilling at this point to mount the sort of 

"gigantic effort" advocated by Cherne, the Eisenhower administration did nevertheless buck the overwhelming odds in October 1954, 

making a qualified and limited, but still signifi cant, commitment to 

Diem and South Vietnam. Analysis of this important step on the 

road to large-scale involvement in Vietnam suggests a great deal 

about the assumptions and methods of operation of United States 

foreign policy in the mid-1950s. 

Despite the dubious prospects, the administration felt compelled 

to do something because of the perceived importance of Vietnam. 

The manner in which an area of no significance to the United States 

before 1941 became a vital interest is the subject of a separate paper. 

Suffice it to say here that by 1954 Indochina and especially Vietnam 

were viewed as the key to critical interests throughout the world. 

Indeed, as early as March 1953 top U.S. policymakers agreed that it 

was "probably the top priority in foreign policy," in some ways more 

important even than Korea because the effects of its loss could not be 

localized.54 Indochina had become by this time the keystone to the 

U.S. alliance system in the Far East and Western Europe. In the eyes 

of American policymakers, its fall might cause the loss of all mainland Southeast Asia and possibly Indonesia as well. Conquest of 

these areas rich in rice and raw materials would give an enormous 

economic advantage to the Communist "bloc." Equally important, it 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 23 

would put tremendous pressure on japan, which would lose a source 

of food supply and a major outlet for export development. "The 

situation of the japanese is hard enough with China being Commie," 

Dulles affirmed in 1953, and with the loss of Southeast Asia too "the 

Japs would be thinking on how to get on the other side."55 U.S. 

officials also feared the psychological effects the loss of Indochina 

might have on the Western European nations and especially on 

France, whose attachment to the Western alliance seemed especially 

tenuous.56 Nothing happened over the next year to modify this assessment. Indeed, the crisis atmosphere created by Dien Bien Phu 

and Geneva heightened the perceived importance of the areaY 

The administration may also have been tempted to defy overwhelming odds because it had recently achieved remarkable successes at low cost in manipulating political situations in other countries. In August 1953 with minimum effort the United States had 

helped to topple the government of Mohammed Mossadegh in Iran 

and ease into power a government headed by the shah and amenable 

to U.S. influence.58 In late June 1954, while the Geneva talks were 

still in a critical stage, the administration had orchestrated a coup 

which unseated the leftist government of Jacobo Arbenz in 

Guatemala. 59 Having succeeded with relative ease in these challenging ventures, the administration may have concluded that it could 

overcome the obstacles in Vietnam as well. 

"The important ~bing from now on is not to mourn the past but 

to profit from the lessons of the past," Dulles cautioned Americans 

after Geneva, and the commitment in Vietnam was based squarely 

on the "lessons of the past," in this case the lessons of the First 

Indochina War.60 The fundamental lesson, agreed upon by most 

American officials, was that the war had been lost primarily because 

of French ineptitude. American criticism of French military performance covered a great range of specifics and had grown louder as the 

war dragged on. Eisenhower himself expressed American contempt 

for French leadership, dismissing the generals in Indochina as a 

"poor lot. "61 American officials also repeatedly complained that the 

French Army was poorly organized, used the wrong tactics, and did 

a poor job training the Vietnamese. 62 French defeatism especially 

annoyed the chronically optimistic Americans. Lt. Gen. John W. 

"Iron Mike" O'Daniel, chief of the military assistance advisory 

group in Indochina, grew so tired of hearing the French talk about 
24 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

how "difficult" everything was that he fined one dollar any member 

of his group who used the word.63 

The principal American criticism, however, was that the French 

were too "conservative and cautious in their approach to warfare. "64 

They "put their trust in barbed wire," one American complained, 

and another observed that "even their offensive measures are predicated in terms of 'defensive' concepts. "65 Throughout the four and 

one-half years of Franco-American partnership in Indochina, the 

main challenge for U.S. military leaders, as General J. Lawton 

Collins expressed it, was "to put the squeeze on the French to get 

them off their fannies," a challenge that by their own standards the 

Americans failed to meet.66 

The unspoken assumption behind these complaints, of course, 

was that the United States could succeed where the French had 

failed. A marine colonel expressed openly what many U.S. officers 

felt when he proclaimed that "two good American divisions with the 

normal aggressive American spirit could clean up the situation in the 

Tonkin Delta in ten months. "67 Having succeeded splendidly in 

training South Koreans for modern warfare, U.S. Army officers were 

also certain that they could train the Vietnamese. Dulles pointed out 

that there was no real difference between the people in the Viet Minh 

and the non-Communist armies, just as there was no difference between the people ofNorth and South Korea. Therefore, with "proper 

training and inspiration," the non-Communist Vietnamese would 

have the same "energy and will to victory."68 Undersecretary ofState 

Smith boasted to a Vietnamese leader that U.S. methods of mass 

production had "achieved results whether in producing automobiles 

or training troops. "69 

From the American standpoint, French political failures had 

been even more important to the outcome of the war. Americans 

generally agreed that the colonial goals for which the French were 

fighting had ensured their defeat. The French had "used weasel 

words in promising independence," Eisenhower wrote a friend on the 

eve of Geneva, "and through this reason as much as anything else 

have suffered reverses that have been inexcusable. " 70 The administration perceived the complexity of the problem. Eisenhower conceded that regular troops could not win against guerrillas who enjoyed popular support and that the sort of spiritual force that had to 

be infused into the non-Communist Vietnamese could not easily be 

provided by an outside nation. 71 On one occasion, the president 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 25 

pondered the use of religion to inject "dynamism" into the Vietnamese, raising the possibility of finding "some good Buddhist leader 

to whip up some ff'rvor." Reminded that Buddha had been a 

"pacifist," Eisenhower expressed hope of rallying the Catholics with 

a Vietnamese Joan of Arc.72 The administration remained uncertain 

precisely how to mobilize the South Vietnamese, but it was certain 

that the United States must try. "We must work with these people, 

and then they themselves will soon fin._d out that we are their friends 

and that they can't live without us," the president affirmed.73 

The commitment to Diem and South Vietnam did not go unopposed. The J oint Chiefs of Staff expressed doubt that an effective 

military force could be created in the absence of political stability. 

They were skeptical of French intentions and despaired of accomplishing anything in South Vietnam as long as France remained. 

Restrictions imposed by the Geneva Accords on the size of outside 

training groups seemed also to militate against effective work in this 

critical area.74 Secretary of Defense Charles E. Wilson was especially 

outspoken against making a commitment in South Vietnam. Describing the situation there as "utterly hopeless," he warned that the 

"only sensible course" was for the United States to get out as 

"completely and as soon as possible," leaving the people to "stew in 

their own juice." In words that would take on the ring of prophecy 

in little more than a decade, Wilson indicated that he could "see 

nothing but grief in store for us if we remained in that area."75 

Dulles and Eisenhower conceded some of the arguments, but they 

ignored the warnings. They too wanted the French out oflndochina, 

and increasingly they suspected that the French were secretly working out with the Democratic Republic of Vietnam a rapprochement 

that would result in the abandonment of South Vietnam. At the same 

time, they perceived that for France to depart Indochina prematurely could be "militarily disastrous." Dulles too feared committing 

U.S. prestige in an area "where we had little control and where the 

situation was by no means promising." Still, he felt that the United 

States must do something. Admitting that he was indulging in the 

"familiar hen and egg argument," he suggested to the Joint Chiefs 

that building an army in South Vietnam might help promote political stability. And even if the United States could accomplish nothing 

more than to create a situation in which North Vietnam would have 

to resort to ''internal violence" to achieve its aims, it would at 

least have imposed on Hanoi a "serious dilemma."76 To abandon 
26 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Southeast Asia without a struggle would be unthinkable, Eisenhower 

added, and for the United States to continue to retreat in that area 

could produce a "grave situation" for American ~ecurity. 77 At a 

critical National Security Council meeting on 22 October 1954, 

Eisenhower resorted to aphorism, a.ffirming "with conviction" that 

"in the lands of the blind, one-eyed men are kings," by which he 

apparently meant that despite the obstacles the United States had 

the resources and ingenuity to succeed. Thus the administration 

embarked on a fateful commitment, without enthusiasm or optimism 

but with a sense of resignation and an inner hope for success. 78 

Eisenhower and Dulles were careful to keep the initial commitment limited. They scaled down the original program of$500 million 

for a large army to $100 million to support a much smaller army 

whose central mission was to promote internal stability and combat 

subversion. There was no need for an army large enough to meet a 

Viet Minh assault across the 17th Parallel, Dulles observed. Such an 

attack would bring the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization into 

operation, possibly resulting in U.S. bombing of North Vietnam and 

perhaps even war with China. "Our concept envisages a fight with 

nuclear weapons rather than the commitment of ground forces," the 

secretary explained.79 Aware that too close a connection with Diem 

would be a liability for him and would risk U.S. prestige, Eisenhower 

and Dulles approached the prime minister cautiously and made the 

commitment conditional on South Vietnamese performance. "We do 

not wish it [to] appear Ngo Dinh Diem is our protege or that we are 

irrevocably committed to him," Dulles emphasized.80 

Eisenhower's commitment to South Vietnam was never subjected to formal public debate, but it appears to have enjoyed broad 

support among American opinion makers. To be sure, some pessimists, including conservative columnist Joseph Alsop and liberal 

Marquis Childs, wrote offVietnam as already lost.81 When consulted 

as a "matter of courtesy" by the administration, Democratic Senator 

Richard B. Russell of Georgia expressed profound skepticism that 

the small initial commitment could be kept limited (but in the best 

spirit of bipartisanship, Russell indicated that he would not oppose 

the administration).82 American observers conceded that Ho Chi 

Minh was a "legend" throughout all ofVietnam and that the weakness of South Vietnam made a nation-building effort there tantamount to "driving nails into rotten wood. "83 Like Dulles, opinion 

makers estimated the odds against success as very high-Business 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST I NDOCHINA WAR 27 

Week toted them at five to one--and admitted that it would require 

a "near miracle" for the United States to prevail in Vietnam.84 

Most opinion makers also agreed with the administration, however, that the United States must try. Some commentators saw a 

"silver lining" amidst the dark clouds in that the Geneva settlement 

provided "two years of grace" to construct a "viable self-supporting 

nation" capable of preventing a Communist takeover of all Vietnam. 

If the United States was to accomplish anything, observers noted, it 

must learn from the French experience. Political and economic instruments were more important than military power in defeating 

communism in the colonial areas, and, as one commentator put it, 

"you're half licked before you start if you go in under the flag of 

western colonialism. "85 Despite the obstacles, conservatives and liberals alike agreed that the stakes were sufficiently high to require that 

the effort be made. The white man's burden was still very much 

alive, New York Times columnist Hanson Baldwin warned, and if the 

West did not take it up the map of Asia "may eventually be shaded 

with the red of communism."86 In a more positive if no more optimistic vein, scholar Rupert Emerson advised that the "distant hope 

of retrieving all of Vietnam should not be abandoned until it wholly 

vanishes. "87 

For a fleeting moment in the mid-1950s, the United States and 

Diem seemed to have defied the odds and pulled off the miracle 

experts had said would be required. With Dulles' steadfast backing 

and timely U.S. aid, Diem emerged out of the chaos of 1954-1955 

virtually unchallenged in South Vietnam. He subdued the contentious sects and handily defeated Bao Dai in a hastily arranged 

election. With U.S. support, he refused to hold the elections called for 

by the Geneva Agreements and initiated a vigorous and effective 

campaign against the Viet Minh "stay-behinds" in South Vietnam. 

In the meantime, the United States engineered the departure of the 

French from Indochina. When Diem visited the United States in 

1957, he was widely feted and hailed as the "miracle man" of Asia. 

Ironically, Diem's very success helped to trigger the second 

round of war that led to his ultimate failure. Struggling for their very 

survival, the Viet Minh in South Vietnam began to mobilize to 

defend themselves and save the revolution. Authorities still disagree 

on the point at which North Vietnam took control of the southern 

insurgency, but it is clear that by 1959 the battle lines that had taken 

form at Geneva had been activated. The Diem regime, backed by the 
28 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

United States, was engaged in war with the former southern Viet 

Minh, supported by North Vietnam. The Second Indochina War 

was under way. 

The experience of the first war shaped in significant ways the 

manner in which the second was fought. Douglas Pike has emphasized that the French war more than any other single factor influenced the future thinking and methods of operation of the North 

Vietnamese leadership. During the first war, the Communist party 

consolidated its power, eliminated most of its potential rivals, and 

developed its organization. It pioneered new forms of warfare, and 

the strategy and tactics employed in the first war were used with 

refinements and modifications in the second. A strategy of protracted 

war was used against the Americans, as it had been against the 

French, the second time with somewhat greater emphasis on political 

struggle in the overall scheme of things. From the first war, the 

Vietnamese also learned the importance of psychological techniques 

to wear down and undermine the enemy and a theater-wide approach to disperse and weaken the enemy. Having failed to build an 

adequate political base in the south during the French war, the 

Communists in the American war constructed their political organization below the 17th Parallel with painstaking care. The experience 

of Geneva, in Pike's words, produced in the Viet Minh leadership 

"an almost reflexive distrust of the conference table." Lessons 

~earned from the first war appear also to have misled the North 

Vietnamese. Vo Nguyen Giap's search for a second Dien Bien Phu, 

for example, was extremely costly and eventually went unrequited.88 

The impact of the First Indochina War on U.S. military thinking 

appears to have been limited and essentially negative. In the immediate aftermath ofDien Bien Phu and Geneva, the war did stir a brief 

flurry of interest. The young French scholar Bernard Fall began to 

develop in military periodicals the analysis that would soon stamp 

him as the foremost authority on the war.89 Even earlier, the veteran 

Asian correspondent Theodore H. White had advanced the heretical 

notion that Viet Minh skill had been as important in determining the 

outcome of the war as French ineptitude. White went on to warn that 

the Asian Communists were pioneering new forms of warfare while 

Western soldiers and statesmen continued to think in "the most 

parochial military terms. "90 Conceding that the defeat of a modern, 

well-equipped Western army by a "primitive" Asian infantry was 

a "shocking development," a U.S. Army officer with extensive 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 29 

experi·ence in Indochina admonished that the Viet Minh type of 

warfare could not be "dismissed as unique." Deploring the conservatism and heavy reliance on technology of the modern Western 

military profession, he advised that guerrilla armies like the Viet 

Minh would have to be "met and defeated in their own type warfare."91 

Such warnings appear to have had little influence. Civilian and 

military interest in the First Indochina War diminished sharply even 

as the second war was taking form. The French war merited no more 

than a brief paragraph in Cyril Falls' The Art of War ( 1961) and not 

so much as a line in Theodore Ropp's classic War in the Modern World 

{2nd ed., 1962). In the military, interest increasingly focused on such 

topics as the pentomic division and the atomic battlefield.92 Even 

when the outbreak of the VietCong insurgency in Vietnam and Fidel 

Castro's success in Cuba stimulated a faddish interest in guerrilla 

warfare in the early 1960s, the First Indochina War seems to have 

remained something of an anomaly, a subject not worthy of serious 

analysis because of France's gross mismanagement and pursuit of 

reactionary colonial goals. 

The effects of America's ignorance of the First Indochina War are 

Jess clear. It has been argued that the failure of the U.S. military to 

understand the type of war in which it was engaged ensured its 

ultimate failure, but it is by no means clear that fighting the war a 

different way would have produced better results.93 The more important consequence may have been a fatal underestimation of the 

enemy. By placing much of the blame on the French for defeat in the 

First Indochina War and ignoring the extent to which the Viet Minh 

earned their success, Americans went to war in 1965 with some 

rather casual and fallacious assumptions about themselves and their 

enemy. Americans in time developed an almost compulsive interest 

in the First Indochina War, but most of this came after the United 

States itself had become bogged down in a bloody stalemate in Vietnam. Bernard Fall's Street Without joy in time became standard reading fare for the American officer corps in Vietnam, and Hell in a Very 

Small Place was on the required reading list at Khe Sanh in 1967-

1968. After reading J ohn McAlister's The Origins of Revolution in Vietnam, a U.S. Army officer in charge of Nixon's Vietnamization program found it "incomprehensible" that Americans could have 

thought that they could defeat the "Vietminh" with regular forces 

and could stabilize South Vietnam "short of outright occupation and 

conquest. "94 
30 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

The First Indochina War has thus cast a long shadow over recent 

history. At Geneva, the great powers imposed on the Vietnamese a 

settlement that settled nothing, and the outlines of the Second Indochina War were apparent even before the diplomats had departed 

the city of peace. The Franco-Viet Minh War created both the 

circumstances and mind-set that led to the initial U.S. commitment 

to South Vietnam, a commitment that was made despite general 

agreement that the odds against success were overwhelming. The 

perceived "lessons" of the first war influenced the way the second war 

was fought. Despite an investment of billions of dollars and thousands of lives, the United States was never able to redress at a cost 

that was politically acceptable at home the unfavorable balance of 

forces it inherited from the French. The origins and outcome of the 

American phase of the war cannot be understood therefore without 

full consideration of the legacy of the First Indochina War. 

NOTES 

I. Stanley Karnow, VittTUim: A History (New York, 1983), p. 199. 

2. For sober contemporary estimates of the French position, see Memorandum 

for the Record, 29 May 54, and Memo, F. W. Moorman for Matthew B. Ridgway, 

29 Jul 54, Matthew B. Ridgway Papers, U.S. Army Military History Institute, 

Carlisle, Pennsylvania. 

3. For balanced assessments of the Viet Minh position after Dien Bien Phu, see 

William J . Duiker, Tilt Communist Road to Power in Vietnam (Boulder, 1981), pp. 

164-65; and James Pinckney Harrison, The Endle.ss War: Fifly Years of Struggk in 

Vietnam (New York, 1982), pp. 124-26. 

4. Record ofNSC Meeting, 8 Jan 54, Department of State, Foreign Relations of tilt 

United Statts, 1952-1954, vol. 13 (Washington, 1982), p. 952. 

5. Ibid.; James Hagerty Diary, I Apr 54, James Hagerty Papers, Dwight D. 

Eisenhower Library, Abilene, Kansas. 

6. George C. Herring and Richard H. Immerman, "Eisenhower, Dulles and 

Dienbienphu: 'The Day We Didn't Co to War' Revisited," journal of American History 

71 (September 1984). 

7. Stephen Jurika, Jr. (ed.), From Pearl Harbor to VietTUim: The Memoirs of Admiral 

Arthur Radford {Stanford, 1980), pp. 417-31. 

8. "Procedural Steps for Intervention in Indochina," n.d., in Subject series: Indochina May 1953-May 1954 (4), J ohn Foster Dulles Papers, Dwight D. 

Eisenhower Library. 

9. See especially Congressional Research Service, Tilt U.S. Government and tilt 

Vietnam War, pt. I (Washington, 1984), pp. 228-41. 

10. Herring and Immerman, '"Day We Didn't Co to War."' 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 31 

II. The most thorough account of the Geneva Conference is Robert F. Randle, 

Gtnn·a 1954: Tht Sttlinntnl of lilt lndochinm War (Princeton, 1969), but Philippe 

Dcvillers and J can Lacouture, End of a War: Indochina, 1954 (New York, 1969) is on 

somt' m<tior points more insightful. 

12. Se<· especially Francois joyaux, La Chine et le reglement du premier co'lflit 

d'lndoclline (Gmeue 1954) (Paris, 1979), pp. 273-86. 

13. Nikita Khrushchev's personal indifference to and cynicism toward Vietnam 

may !Je renccted in his oft-cited advice to Chou En-lai to tell "Comrade Ho" a "white 

lie" by promising support that China was not prepared to give. Strobe Talbot, 

Khrushchev Rnnnnbm (New York, 1971), pp. 533-34. 

14. Pham Van Dong quoted in Karnow, Vittnam, p. 204; Ministry of Foreign 

Alfair1>, Socialist Republic of Vietnam, Tht Truth AbouJ Vutnam-Chintst Relations Over 

tile Pa.11 Thirty Years (Hanoi, 1979), pp. 21-25. 

15. Duiker, Communist Road to Powtr, pp. 164-65. 

16. Quot«< in James Eayrs, In Dtflnct of Canada: Indochina-Roots of Complicity 

(Toronto, 1983), p. 225. 

17. Ibid. 

18. T. B. Millar (ed.), Australian Foreign Minister: The Diaries of R. G. Casey, 1951-

1960 (London, 1972), pp. 151-52, 163-64. 

19. Duiker, Communist Road lo Power, pp. 164-72. 

20. Quoted in Karnow, Vietnam, p. 204. 

21. Walter Bedell Smith tO State Department, 15 May 54, FRUS, 1952-1954, 

16:812. 

22. Smith to Heath and Dillon, 18 Jun 54, ibid., pp. 1177-78. 

23. Heath to State Department, 23Ju154, FRUS, 1952-1954, 13:1872. 

24. Dillon to State Department, 30 Jul 54, ibid., p. 1896. 

25. U. Alexis johnson to State Department, 26 Jun 54, FRUS, 1952-1954, 

16:1253. 

26. Senate.' Foreign Relations Committee, Historical Series, vol. 6 (Washington, 

1977), p. 642. 

27. Record of Phone Conversation, Eisenhower and Dulles, 20 Jul 54, Diary 

s<·rics. box 4, Dwight D. Eisenhower Papers, Dwight D. Eisenhower Library. Although the United States had originally favored Belgium over Canada as the "free 

world" representative on the control commission, Canada more than fulfilled that 

role, voluntarily providing intelligence to the United States on developments in 

Vietnam and defending positions espoused by South Vietnam and the United 

States. See Eayrs, Roots of Complicity, pp. 219, 242-44. 

28. Record of~SC Meeting, 15Jul 54, FRUS, 1952-1954, 13:1840. 

29. Smith to State Department, 18Jul 54, FRUS, 1952-1954, 16:1427. 

30. A brief record of the activities of Lansdale's mission is in Neil Sheehan et aJ. 

(eds.), Tht Pentagon Papers as Published by the New York Times (New York, 1971), 

pp. 53-66. 

31. Records of NSC Meetings, 17 Jun 54 and 22 Jul 54, FRUS, /952- 1954, 

13:17!6, 1869-70. 

32. Smith to State Department, 17 May 54, FRUS, /952-1954, 16:829-30; Memorandum ofConversation, 18 May 54, ibid., pp. 843-46; Memo by Bonsai, 19 May 

54, ibid., pp. 848-49. 

33. ~1emorandum of Conversation with Diem, 15 Jan 51, document #3051, 

box 8(a), \\'illiam J. Donovan Papers, U.S. Army Military History Institute, 

( USA~ll II), Carlisle, Pennsylvania. 

34. Acheson to Legation, Saigon, 16 jan 51, FRUS, 1951, 6:348; and Edmund 

Gullion tO Secretary of State, 24 Jan 51, ibid., pp. 359-60. 
32 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

35. Donovan's activities emerge quite clearly from his voluminous papers in the 

U.S. Army Military History Institute and are discussed briefly in Anthony Cave 

Brown, Tk Lo.st Hero: Wild Bill Donovan (New York, 1984). pp. 820-22, 828. For the 

flEes on Diem, see boxes 8(a) and II (b), Donovan Papers. For possible Catholic 

lobby and CIA involvement in Diem's rise to power, see Congressional Research 

Service, The U.S. Government and 1M Vietnam War, pt. I , pp. 261-62. 

36. Heath to State Department, 8Jul 54, FRUS, 1952-1954, 13:1793. 

37. Duiker, Communist Road to Power, pp. 172-73; Jeffrey Race, War Comes to Long 

An (Berkeley, 1972). 

38. The French at one point conjectured that Viet Minh soldiers fought so fanatically because they were high on drugs, but autopsies dispelled this theory. Millar 

(ed.), Casey Diaries, p. 26. 

39. For vivid descriptions of post-Geneva South Vietnam, see Memorandum by 

Acting Special Assistant for Intelligence, I 0 Aug 54, FR US, 1952-1954, 13: 1934-35, 

and National Intelligence Estimate, 3 Aug 54, ibid., pp. 1905- 14. 

40. Robert McClintock to State Department, 8 May 54, ibid., p. 1519. 

41. Ibid. 

42. Heath to Dulles, 28 Apr 53, ibid., p. 523. 

43. Memorandum of Conversation by Dulles, May 54, ibid., p. I 528. 

44. Diary entry, 17 Jun 54, Millar (ed.), Casey Diaries, p. 159. 

45. Dillon to State Department, 24 May 54, FRUS, 1952- 1954, 13:1608-09. 

46. McClintock to State Department, 4 J ul 54, ibid., pp. 1783-84. 

47. McClintock to State Department, 12 Aug 54, ibid., p. 1937. 

48. Leo Cherne to William J . Donovan, 23 Sep 54, document #4060, box 9(a), 

Donovan Papers. 

49. Ibid. 

50. National Intelligence Estimate, 3 Aug 54, FRUS, 1952-1954, 13: 1905-14; and 

Special National Intelligence Estimate, 15 Sep 54, ibid., p. 2030. 

51. Memo by Commissioner-General in Southeast Asia, 7 Aug 54, document 

#4086, box 9(b), Donovan Papers; and Eayrs, Roots of Complicity, p. 63. 

52. James Lawton Collins, Lightning joe: An Auwhiography (Baton Rouge, I 983), 

p. 379. 

53. Cherne to Donovan, 23 Sep 54, document #4060, box 9(a), Donovan Papers. 

54. Memorandum of Conversation by Dulles, 24 Mar 53, FRUS, 1952-1954, 

13:419-20. 

55. State Department-Joint Chiefs of Staff Meeting, 28Jan 53, ibid., pp. 361-62. 

56. State Department draft for National Security Council paper, 27 Mar 52, ibid., 

pp. 83-91. 

57. See especially National Security Council, "Review of U.S. Policy in the Far 

East," Aug 54, U.S. Congress, Committee on Armed Services, United Stales-Vietnam 

Relations, 1945-1967, 12 vols. (Washington, 1971), 10:731-41. 

58. Stephen E. Ambrose with Richard H. Immerman, Ike's Spies: Eisenhower and 

the Espionage Establishment (New York, 1981 ), pp. 189-214. 

59. Richard H. Immerman, Tk CiA in Guatemal4 (Austin, 1982). 

60. Quoted in Rupert Emerson, " Indo-China," Yale Review 44 (Autumn 1954): 

63. 

61. NSC Meeting, 6 May 53, FRUS, 1952-1954, 13:548. 

62. Memo by Douglas MacArthur 11, 18 Apr 53, ibid., pp. 473-74; McClintock 

to State Department, 13 Apr 53, ibid., pp. 465-68. 

63. Record of JCS-State Department Meeting, 17 J ul 53, ibid., p. 684; Memo, 

n.d., John W. O'Daniel Papers, USAMHI. 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 33 

64. Memo by General Thomas Trapnell, 31 Mar 53, FRUS, /952-1954, 13:452; 

Record of J CS-State Department Meeting, 4 Sep 53, ibid., p. 754. 

65. Memo by Joint Staff, 22 Jan 52, ibid., pp. 368-69. 

66. Record of Joint Chiefs of Staff Meeting, 24 Apr 53, ibid., p. 500. 

67. Memorandum ofConversation,John W. Allison with Arthur Radford, 4 Feb 

53, ibid., p. 385. This is not meant to imply that American military figures were 

eager to fight in Indochina. On the contrary, the Army in particular opposed such 

involvement because of the difficulties in fighting in that region and for fear that the 

same limitations that had been imposed in Korea would be imposed in an Indochina 

war. See Ronald H. Spector, Advice and Support: The Early Years, 1941-1960 (Washington, 1983), especially pp. 191-214. 

68. Memorandum of Conversation, Dulles, Laniel, and Bidault, 14 Apr 54, 

FRUS, 1952-1954, 13:1338. 

69. Memorandum of Conversation, Smith with Cambodian leaders, 20 J un 54, 

ibid., 16: 1205; Memorandum of Conversation, Smith with Prince Buu Loc, 25 May 

54, ibid., p. 915. 

70. Eisenhower to E. E. Hazlett, 27 Apr 54, Diary series, box 4, Dwight D. 

Eisenhower Papers. Army Chief of Staff Matthew B. Ridgway agreed. "Only if the 

French can galvanize the Vietnamese into enthusiastic all-out participation in military operations can there be any chance of decisive military success," he observed 

in the spring of 1954. Memorandum of Conversation by Ridgway, 20 Mar 54, box 

30, Ridgway Papers. 

71. Minutes of Meeting with Canadian officials, 7 May 53, FRUS, 1952-1954, 

13:552. 

72. Record ofNSC Meeting, 4 Feb 54, ibid., pp. 1014-15. 

73. Hagerty Diary, 23 Jul 54, Hagerty Papers. 

74. Vice-Admiral Arthur Davis to Dulles, 20 Oct 54, FRUS, 1952-1954, 13:2146. 

75. Record of NSC Meeting, 26 Oct 54, ibid., pp. 2184-86. 

76. Dulles Memorandum of Conversation with Eisenhower, 17 Aug 54, ibid., 

p. 1953; Dulles to Wilson, 18 Aug 54, ibid., pp. 1954-56. 

77. Dulles Memorandum of Conversation with Eisenhower, 17 Aug 54, ibid., 

p. 1953. 

78. Record of NSC Meeting, 22 Oct 54, ibid., p. 2154. 

79. Record of Meeting in Dulles's office, 8 Oct 54, ibid., p. 2125. 

80. Dulles Memorandum of Conversation with Eisenhower, I 7 Aug 54, ibid., 

p. 1953. See also Dulles toJ. L. Collins, 19 Nov 54, ibid., p. 2271. 

81. Joseph and Stewart Alsop, "The New Munich," Washington Post, 23 Jul 54; 

Marquis Childs in ibid., 22 Jul 54. 

82. David Halberstam, The Best and the Brightest (New York, 1972), p. 146. 

83. See, for instance, Vincent S. Kearney, "Vietnam Mter Geneva," America, 

II September 1954, pp. 565-66; Christian Century 71 (10 November 1954): 1357. 

84. "France Calls It Quits in Indochina," Business Week, 24 July 1954, 

pp. 110-11. 

85. Washington Post, 24 Jul 54; Neal Stanford, "The Lessons of Geneva," Foreign 

Policy Bulletin, I September 1954, pp. 3, 8. 

86. Hanson Baldwin in New York Times, 25 J ul 54. 

87. Emerson, "Indo-China," Yale Review 44 (Autumn 1954): 62-63. 

88. For persuasive analyses of the importance of the First Indochina War for the 

North Vietnamese, see Douglas Pike, History of V'utnamese Communism (Stanford, 

1978), pp. 72-91, and Timothy J. Lomperis, The War Everyone Lost-and Won: America's Intervention in VietNam's Twin Struggles (Baton Rouge, 1984), pp. 147-52, 170-73. 
34 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

I am also indebted to William). Duiker for information and documents that helped 

direct my thinking on this issue. Col. Paul MiJes recalled on 9 November 1984 that 

North Vietnamese representatives assigned to implement the 1973 cease-fire agreements were extremely sensitive to their 1954 experiences with the French. 

89. See, for example, Bernard B. Fall, "Indochina-The Last Years of the War," 

Military Review 36 (October 1956) and (December 1956). 

90. Theodore H. White, "Indo-China-The Long Trail of Error," The Reporter, 

22June 1954, pp. 8-15. 

91. Major Lamar McFadden Prosser, "The Bloody Lessons of Indochina," The 

Anny Combat Forces Journal 5 (June 1955): 24-30. 

92. This conclusion is based on a survey of writing in Military Review, Army Digest, 

and The Army Combat Forces Journal. Among the nearly I, 700 papers written by 

students at the Army War College between 1951 and 1960, only 4 dealt with the 

Indochina War, and only I of those examined the way the Viet Minh fought the war. 

93. This argument is advanced in Guenter Lewy, America in Vietnam (New York, 

1978). 

94. Memo by Gen ArthurS. Collins, n.d., ArthurS. Collins Papers, USAMHI. 
The Making and Unmaking of Ngo 

Dinh Diem 

Herbert S. Parmet 

Closer inspection of the Eisenhower and Kennedy involvement 

reveals some of the peculiarities of that inherited war in Indochina, 

a conflict that was far more complex than the "limited" action in 

Korea. For the political and diplomatic historian, the affair must be 

viewed in global terms, as part of the domestic and international cold 

war. In the end, that may be the only rational explanation for what 

most commentators have considered an irrational episode in modern 

American history. 

American policy wavered along each step of the way, reassessed 

the situation periodically, and then wavered some more, always 

managing to steer directly along a course determined not by military 

pres-criptions but by the exigencies of both domestic politics and 

perceptions of cold-war imperatives. An examination of the 

Eisenhower-Kennedy years must also necessarily recognize that Ngo 

Dinh Diem personified what was wrong with pursuing that enterprise. Thirty years after the origins of the American inheritance of 

French Indochinese hegemony, the installation, maintenance, and 

subsequent disposal of the Diem regime remains central to any understanding of what happened. 

Recent critics have cited Kennedy's complicity in Diem's overthrow as sealing the American commitment, both morally and critically. A more dispassionate analysis might suggest that the most 

egregious blunder was Diem's initial investiture. In this view, the 

Eisenhower era may be recognized for its effort to employ Diem as 

part of a desperate search for stability, while the Kennedy years 

rnarked the often indecisive quest for means of coping with that 

inheritance. How we sank into the "big muddy" is at the heart of this 

present examination. 

35 
36 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

I should start by recalling that the condition of contemporary 

partisan politics was hardly lost on John Foster Dulles, who wrote 

the key foreign policy plank for the Republicans. It was also a fighting issue for the party's right wing, which not only gave its support 

to Joe McCarthy (often for the most cynical ofreasons) but was still 

bruised after a convention that gave the nomination to an apolitical 

general rather than to "Mr. Republican," Senator Robert A. Taft. 

Even without all the strategic and ideological reasons, their need to 

demonstrate strength was inescapable, to succeed in a region where 

the Democrats had been castigated for cowardice, weakness, and 

even treason. Both matters were, as Dulles feared, closely related, 

with Moscow and Peking deftly capitalizing on the heritage of colonialism. In 1951 , while still in Paris heading NATO forces, 

Eisenhower advised the French government that "you people are 

making one very bad error. You're letting the world, and particularly 

the people in Indo China believe that you're still fighting a colonial 

war. You've got to make this thing a matter between freedom and 

communism."' 

That concept, which was implicit in Harry Truman's warning 

about the need for military aid to Greece and Turkey, was accepted 

with equal applicability to other regions of the world, especially the 

Far East. Dr. Walter Judd, the Minnesota congressman best known 

for his China Lobby connections, headed a 1953 study mission that 

stressed the importance of preserving Indochina as a safeguard for all 

of Southeast Asia.2 Eisenhower himself gave the theory its greatest 

legitimacy during an explanation at a news conference on 7 April 

1954, at the time of the Dien Bien Phu crisis: "You have a row of 

dominoes set up, you knock over the first one, and what will happen 

to the last one is the certainty that it will go over very quickly. So you 

could have a beginning of a disintegration that would have the most 

profound influences. "3 Debates centered around the relative roles of 

communism, the quality and quantity of support given by the international movement, and the roles of nationalism and internal social 

and economic distress, but hardly anybody doubted that the contagion could poison an entire area of the world. 

While the Soviets and Chinese Communists were assumed to be 

military allies, they were perceived as working together to compete 

for world markets even at the expense of undermining the economy 

of the Far East.4 Indochina was the " rice bowl of Asia," invaluable 

for extending Communist economic control "into Japan and into 

lndia. "5 Moreover, there was little reason to doubt that Moscow and 
THE MAKING ANO UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 37 

Peking were equal backers of Ho Chi Minh's Viet Minh forces, 

especially when the latter invaded Laos in the spring of 1953. When 

Dulles met Soviet Foreign Minister Molotov in Berlin during February of 1954, he noted that the Russian diplomat used every opportunity to press for recognition of Communist China. Nor did Dulles fail 

to appreciate Molotov's hints of a willingness to trade peace in the 

area for concessions on Germany and the European Defense Community, a virtual admission of Soviet complicity.6 

Taking a hard line toward Peking also involved the delicacy of 

American relations with Japan. Eisenhower's "domino" theory comments on 7 April were foUowed by an elaboration that emphasized 

J apanese commercial interests in Southeast Asia.? On 21 June the 

president lectured Republican legislative leaders. "If we don't assist 

Japan, gentlemen, Japan is going Communist," he warned. "Then 

instead of the Pacific being an American lake, believe me it is going 

to be a Communist lake. If we do not let them trade with Red China, 

with Southeast Asia, then we are going to be in for trouble. Of course, 

we do not want to ruin our own industries to keep Japan on our side, 

but we must give them assistance. It is a delicate, difficult course we 

have to follow, but I am sure we can do it in the long run. "8 The 

J apanese, meanwhile, were on guard against any relaxation of the 

American attitude toward Peking.9 Their needs, of course, constituted another aspect of the problem, part of the entire rationale for 

standing fast in Southeast Asia. All of this was emphasized in 

Eisenhower's first State of the Union message. 

The president's policies toward the French were tied to two objectives. One ca lled for a new program for victory on the battlefield, 

which produced the Navarre plan. That military scheme involved 

greater use of "native" forces, redeployment of military positions, 

and stepped-up American aid. The ultimate goal was supposed to 

drive the Viet Minh from its Red River Delta stronghold, but General Henri Navarre himself secretly warned that a draw was the most 

probable result. 10 The other objective concerned French membership in the European Defense Community (EDC). In Paris on 14 

December 1953, Dulles delivered his dramatic warning that French 

rejection of the EDC might lead the U.S. to make an "agonizing 

reappraisal" of the alliance. 11 

American coercion against a negotiated political settlement, 

which Washington believed would open the door to Viet Minh domination, risked provoking French opposition to EDC. 12 Indeed, many 

Frenchmen manifested stronger antagonisms toward Washington 
38 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

than toward Moscow. Until the government of Premier Rene Mayer 

was toppled by a no-confidence vote in May of 1953, the French 

government was also headed by leadership dependent on anti-EDC 

nationalists. Finally, Joseph Laniel, an independent, became premier in late June. Laniel, together with Foreign Minister Georges 

Bidault, was far more sympathetic to Washington's needs. But his 

hold was also precarious. Any likely opposition would press for a 

negotiated withdrawal without much regard for the consequences. At 

a meeting of the cabinet on 10 July Dulles observed that Laniel's 

might be the last French government that would try to hold on in 

lndochina. 13 

Accordingly, the incoming Eisenhower administration bolstered 

the French position. Immediately after his inauguration, additional 

political and military aid flowed toward Southeast Asia from Washington.14 Some $385 million was aimed at achieving military stabilization, virtually financing the entire French operation. 15 American 

financial aid from fiscal year 1950 through fiscal year 1954 totaled 

nearly two and a half billion dollars. 16 In response to an invitation 

from ex-Premier Mayer, Lt. Gen. John W. O'Daniel headed a mission to Saigon to discuss with General Navarre how American material and financial support of the French and armed forces of the 

Associated States could realize the objective of defeating the Communist forces. 17 O'Daniel was also installed as head of the Military 

Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG). Sixty U.S. Air Force officers 

arrived in Saigon in early July to train and advise French airmen. 18 

Later that summer, the State Department reported that over 300 

shiploads of military aid had been supplied to French and native 

forces. 19 Such enlarged aid paralleled a substantial increase in the 

level of support for the insurgents that was being supplied by the 

People's Republic of China. That December, the Viet Minh issued 

repeated offers, via radio, for truce talks. Laniel faced increased 

pressure to negotiate; but Washington, with Dulles expressing hopes 

for an end to the war by 1955, blocked any such movements.20 

Meanwhile, the Eisenhower administration faced little concerted 

criticism of its goals, especially in view of repeated assurances that 

the ultimate objective was the disengagement of French forces and 

independence for a non-Communist Indochina. Whatever dissension may have been possible from Capitol Hill was also stymied by 

the lack of any strong doubts about the containment policy. The 

overwhelming desire was to accomplish the objective without direct 

military intervention. 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 39 

As optimism about the Navarre plan inevitably vanished, the 

administration began 1954 with a multiple dilemma that may be 

summarized by asking the following questions: 1) How can the 

French be induced not to abandon Indochina before achieving sufficient military stability that would survive independence? 2) What 

sort of diplomacy can overcome their resistance to EDC? 3) How far 

would the United States be willing to commit its resources to prevent 

a Communist victory? Such were the stakes that preoccupied the 

Joint Chiefs of Staff, the State Department, and the White House. All 

were reflected in National Security Council (NSC) deliberations. 

NSC 162/2, with its "New Look" emphasis on air and nuclear power 

that could deliver decisive strikes while deemphasizing the role of 

ground forces, invariably helped to narrow the administration's options-unless we were truly prepared to fulfilJ the concept of massive 

retaliation. Meanwhile, the only feasible move consisted of materiel 

assistance to sustain the Navarre plan. In early February, that enhanced support consisted of forty B-26 bombers and two hundred 

technicians. 21 

At Berlin that February, Dulles was unable to prevent the inclusion of Indochina on the agenda of a conference originally targeted 

on finding a political solution for Korea. " If we succeed here in 

stopping French pressures for conference-which is by no means 

certain-and should thereafter also stop financial support or attach 

to it impossible conditions," the secretary explained to Eisenhower 

via cable, "the anti-American reaction in France would be very 

severe and almost certainly defeat European Defense Community. "22 

At the same time, the NSC, the Joint Chiefs, and the White 

House all accepted the need for some kind of military commitment to 

prop up the sagging French effort. The NSC reaffirmed the importance oflndochina to all of Southeast Asia.23 Eisenhower's mood was 

clearly one of frustration, wanting to stem the rebel tide but, at the 

same time, acutely conscious of the political difficulties. He told Jim 

Hagerty that he would like to see Chiang Kai-shek's troops brought 

into Indochina but feared countermoves by the People's Republic.24 

Then, too, both he and Dulles were aware of the domestic sensitivities about using American personnel. When congressional leaders 

voiced concern about the deployment of technicians, the president 

reassured them that the French had been forewarned that the men 

would be withdrawn by 15 June 1954.25 At the same time, Dulles 

came away from an appearance before the Foreign Relations 

Committee primed to anticipate domestic attacks for inadequate 
40 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

preparedness for French reversals.26 Paradoxically, the secretary's 

meeting with a bipartisan group of congressional leaders exposed 

him to Senator Knowland's warning that the administration would 

not only be accountable for any "slip" toward diplomatic recognition 

of China but for actions that might commit the United States in an 

Indochina war.27 Fearful of"another Korea," Knowland was somewhat of a dove about new military intervention.28 

The level ofWashington's commitment behind the French effort, 

beyond participation in its share of the Navarre plan, had clearly 

become a major consideration. Still not totally settled is how much 

agreement there was about the Eisenhower-Dulles intentions. Was 

the administration sufficiently serious about salvaging the French 

position to justify unilateral intervention? Or was the preference 

merely for creating what might be seen as a tough bargaining position to establish some kind of diplomatic leverage at Geneva? 

One report of a study group headed by retired Marine General 

G. B. Erskine {two had previously been published) that was submitted to Eisenhower's Operations Coordinating Board on 2 March 

1954 made a series of recommendations. The Erskine findings called 

for Americanization of the effort in concert with simultaneously remedying the French failure to mitigate the colonialist approach. Emphasizing the need to avoid actions that might lead "to involuntary 

U.S. combat participation," it urged the development "of indigenous 

leadership which will be truly representative and symbolic of IndoChinese national aspirations and win the loyalty and support of the 

people." Should all that fail, "the U.S. may wish to consider direct 

military action in Southeast Asia to ensure !he maintenance of our 

vital interests in the area. "29 The key words were "should all that 

fail." Without the potential of a credible military response, as in 

Western Europe, there could be no containment in Asia. 

Much has since been written about General Paul Ely's March 

1954 trip to Washington and pleas for American assistance. Particular attention has centered on Operation VuLTURE, the plan outlined to Ely by Admiral Arthur Radford calling for an air strike at 

enemy positions around Dien Bien Phu with B-29 bombers equipped 

with three small atomic bombs. 

Closer analysis of the consequences of that dramatic proposal, 

made possible by additional information, deemphasizes the imminence of intervention. It also illustrates what later became a characteristic of administration foreign policy, calculated uncertainty and 

bluff to protect strategic interests. Rather than actually desiring to 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 41 

implement VULTURE, the process was one important step toward 

the realization of what Dulles had already been talking about, collective action. Collective action was but a small step to mutual security, 

and that, of course, ultimately led directly toward the establishment 

of the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO). One day after 

Radford's plan had been exposed to decidedly skeptical (and hostile) 

congressional leaders, Eisenhower had suggested to Churchill "the 

establishment of a new, ad hoc grouping or coalition composed of 

nations which have a vital concern in the checking of Communist 

expansion in the area .... the coalition must be strong and it must 

be wiJling to join the fight if necessary."30 But the British held other 

exasperations for Dulles. They declined to participate in a joint 

military venture before the scheduled conference at Geneva, thereby 

scuttling the concept of "united action. " Dulles, meeting with Sir 

Winston Churchill on 12 April 1954, heard the prime minister repeat 

"his usual line"-only the English-speaking peoples counted. 31 

Within the American military leadership far more of a consensus 

existed for believing that defeating the enemy could only be done by 

striking at the source of his power-in other words, China itselfrather than fighting on Vietnamese soil. During the Geneva Conference that spring, a JCS memorandum to Defense Secretary Wilson 

stressed that "from the point of view of the United States, with 

reference to the Far East as a whole, Indochina is devoid of decisive 

military objectives and the allocation of more than token U.S. armed forces 

in Indochina would be a serious diversion of limited U.S. capabilities."32 The military was decidedly advisory, with less influence than 

popularly believed, often taking a back seat to political and diplomatic considerations. 

Distaste for such an enterprise became unmistakable when Vice 

President Nixon made his "off-the-record" comments in mid-April 

before the American Society ofNewspaper Editors. Nixon, responding to what was a hypothetical question about the use of American 

force to save Indochina, told the editors that "the United States as 

a leader of the free world cannot afford further retreat in Asia. It is 

hoped the United States will not have to send troops there, but if this 

Government cannot avoid it, the Administration must face up to the 

situation and dispatch forces."33 The supposedly off-the-record statement, made to a roomful of journalists, hardly remained secret for 

long. The subsequent furor raised the specter of a new Korea. 

Was Nixon's statement a trial balloon? Or was the vice president 

attempting to clear the way for a new military move? The passage of 
42 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

years considerably dims either possibility. When interviewed on 5 

June 1984, Nixon recalled that he had merely stated his own views 

but that they did reflect the administration's position. "This was a 

case of my sitting in the meetings with Eisenhower and having his 

views expressed," he said, adding that he had no doubt that the 

administration was not ready to countenance Admiral Radford's 

nuclear designs for Operation VuLTURE. 34 Documentation now 

available substantiates his explanation. Even if they were more 

alarming than anything that had been intended, Nixon's comments 

were consistent with the administration's hard-line bluff. 

Essential for all this was clear evidence of preparedness for action, 

and the United States mobilized its propaganda and military forces. 

When Premier Laniel informed Ambassador Dillon on lO May about 

the urgency of American intervention, Eisenhower directed Dulles to 

prepare a resolution to present before a joint congressional meeting 

requesting authority to commit American troops.35 Four days after 

the fall of the garrison at Dien Bien Phu on 7 May, Dulles and the 

president discussed sending a cable to Ambassador Dillon in Paris 

that would imply "that we might conceivably go ahead without the 

active participation of the United Kingdom."36 

The "practicability of US intervention" was kept alive, although 

the French might not necessarily make such a request until "the 

Geneva game is played out." But, Dulles warned, American willingness to take that step would be canceled if there should be a "fait 

accompli" on the battlefields before the conference ended.37 When, a 

few days later, the French asked for American ground forces, including some marines, Eisenhower refused.38 The military and diplomatic situation had obviously deteriorated beyond the point where 

any benefit could come from American intervention. Everything 

pointed to the disintegration of the Vietnamese government, especially with the French contemplating a fallback that would leave 

virtually the entire Tonkin Delta population in hostile hands. 39 

In mid-June as military positions collapsed and, in conflict over 

both EDC and ending the war, the Laniel government was replaced 

by Pierre Mendes-France, who declared a self-imposed pledge to 

resign if he failed to reach a settlement by 21 July. The settlement at 

Geneva, from which the United States virtually disassociated itself, 

was, in effect, written off as an unavoidable evil. Even before the 

conference ended and agreements were reached, the U.S. position 

concentrated on two major objectives: increasing the resistance to the 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 43 

Viet Minh, and, second, establishing an indigenous government that 

would function virtually as an American protectorate. 

Eisenhower and Dulles could only try to minimize the diplomatic 

and political damage ofGeneva. And when it was over, the denouement was a phased French withdrawal from the Associated States, 

independence for Laos and Cambodia, and the partition ofVietnam 

at the 17th Parallel. The South was left under the leadership of a 

Vietnamese nationalist, Ngo Dinh Diem, who was appointed as premier by Emperor Bao Dai in June. His ability to govern would be 

supported by an augmented MAAG headed by Colonel Edward 

Lansdale, whose success against the Huks in the Philippines had 

apparently left few doubts about his qualifications for the job. Also 

created for the long-term objective of containment in the Far East, as 

Dulles had contemplated many weeks before the fall of Dien Bien 

Phu, was the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization. Such were the 

fateful steps that sealed Washington's stake in the region. 

As Stanley Karnow has observed, the Geneva Agreement 

"postponed rather than achieved a settlement. "40 Still, the conference was far from a total loss. At least, Dulles reminded Eisenhower, 

the issue of colonialism should no longer confuse the Indochinese 

conflict. "The issue then will indeed be 'between Communism and 

liberty. "'41 But the partition at the 17th Parallel was hardly something a Republican administration could cheer about, recognizing, as 

it did, the hegemony of Ho Chi Minh's Communist regime in the 

North. Little wonder the treaty failed to carry an American signature. At the same time, it provided for elections in 1956 to reunite the 

country. 

Once Geneva was out of the way, the U.S. could proceed with its 

obj ectives. Each in turn, the installation of Ngo Dinh Diem as South 

Vietnam's prime minister, the creation of SEATO, standing by Diem 

through his great crisis against the sects in 1955 and supporting his 

decision to avoid elections in 1956, and, finally, the withdrawal of the 

French and full assumption of the American protectorate, firmly 

sealed the Eisenhower legacy to the next administration in Washington. 

Diem was only one man, and, as events later showed, he could be 

and was replaced. Jean Lacouture, a French journalist who was an 

on-the-spot observer, later wrote about the inevitability that a military coup would have eventually unseated Diem.42 As seen from 

Paris, the First Indochina War also "ended in the greatest military 

disaster in French colonial history since the eighteenth century."43 
44 SECOND I NDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Speculation about Diem's initial sponsorship has obscured his role in 

Franco-American relations. Much attention has been given to certain other aspects of his support, at the cost of ignoring some elements that were essential to the entire process. 

For France, Diem was the political equivalent ofDien Bien Phu. 

For South Vietnam, his reign guaranteed not efficiency or the advantages of his much-valued honesty, but prolonged instability. From 

the outset, his government was viewed as a puppet regime of the 

U nited States. He was widely regarded as "being in the American 

pocket. "44 The Americans were constantly suspected of simply trying 

to help themselves to the riches of Fra nce's colonial jewel.45 

There can be no question about Dulles' sensitivity to all this. To 

a considerable degree, too, he was well aware of Diem as a problemchild. He was, in fact, less ardent than Eisenhower about keeping 

him in power. As he cautioned Ambassador Dillon, "We do not wish 

[to] make it appear Ngo Dinh Diem our protege or that we are 

irrevocably committed to him."46 From J ean Daridan, French 

deputy commissioner-general in Indochina, Dulles heard that although Diem was "a man of good will, he is not a man of will. " 47 

Finally, in May of 1955, French Foreign Minister Edgar Faure 

showed his exasperation by blurting out that Diem was " not only 

incapable but mad .... France can no longer take risks with him."48 

From the American point of view, then, Diem simply exacerbated 

persistent tensions. Throughout the period, in dealings with the 

M ayer, Laniel, or Mendes-France governments, annoyance with 

France was constantly evident. The U.S., and especially Dulles, were 

impatient with such policies that were regarded as breeding grounds 

for communism that fed on anticolonialism. In France itself, there 

was much apprehension, especially from the left, about the EDC 

commitment and a revived Germany. The potential "horrors" of a 

"red" Asia were minimized. Ironically, while emphasizing the need 

for stability in Southeast Asia, American officials were all too ready 

with barbed comments about political chaos in Paris. Nothing better 

ilJustrates this pique than Henry Cabot Lodge's letter to Dulles. 

Written from his post as U.N. ambassador on 11 June 1954, Lodge's 

comments may have been only partly j ocular. " I cannot but believe," 

he wrote, "that Alger Hiss and a score of little Alger Hisses were at 

work helping the French communists get this Constitution when 

actually they should have been using the position of immense 

influence which the United States had in 1945 and '46 to get 

them a Constitution which would have given them a very strong 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 45 

government ... but (their] system of government puts such a premium on division that any kind of far-sighted strong action seems to 

be impossible."49 

Much has been written about how Diem came to power. 5° Virtually. all accounts mention the role of such American Catholics as 

Francis Cardinal Spellman, Mike Mansfield,Jack Kennedy, and the 

influence of the liberal Supreme Court Justice, William 0. Douglas. 

Weight is also given to American economic leverage. By the time 

Dien Bien Phu fell, the U.S. was paying 80 percent of the French 

costs in Indochina, and there were promises of more money to 

come.51 That clearly figured in persuading the French to accept a 

feudal aristocrat whose virulent francophobia could hardly have 

been deemed as potentially congenial to their interests. Indeed, as 

J ohn W. Hanes, Jr., has testified, "Dulles' backing for Diem was 

rammed through single-bandedly, through our intelligence and military communities, although the intelligence community had originally found him. "52 Richard Bissell, Allen Dulles' subordinate in the 

CIA, has recalled that support for the Diem regime was a move of 

desperation and "our agency was deeply involved at that time."53 

Eisenhower himself, at the time Diem was battling against a coalition 

of sects in Saigon and was nearly deposed, bluntly told a meeting of 

legislative leaders that Diem "was the man we had backed to bring 

order to that country" to prove "our disinterest in colonialism. "54 

All this ignores one vital aspect of the situation: Diem's appeal to 

the large Roman Catholic population of Tonkin in North Vietnam. 

"In Hue anti-Commies opposing national government still consider 

Ngo Dinh Diem, whom they continue to expect arrive in Vietnam, 

best candidate to head such a government," cabled Robert 

McClintock to Dulles on 11 June 1954, "and have continued activity 

to promote his advent to power, many trips to Saigon being made to 

propagandize with this objective in mind. »55 

More than humanitarianism was involved. As a CIA report of23 

August 1954 noted, "the results of the Geneva Conference and partition have put a premium on nationalist leaders and not on administrators."56 Bissell, in his interview, cited Diem for one particular 

accomplishment: carrying out the resettlement from the North far 

more efficiently than anyone thought possible. Lacouture has written 

that the one triumph of Diem's regime was the integration of nearly 

a million refugees from the NorthY As the French themselves 

understood, the presence of the refugees in the South was vital for 
46 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

bolstering the government, and, ultimately, for helping to establish 

Diem's legitimacy despite the traditional animosities toward the 

Catholic minority. 

Friction took place almost immediately, with rumors of Diem's 

impending resignation circulating as early as the summer of 1954, 

only weeks after Bao Dai had obligingly designated the prime minister on 17 June. 58 The French were suspected of plotting, hoping to 

replace the leader so disrespectful of their interests with someone 

more amenable, possibly the corrupt playboy emperor himself. Furthermore, French rejection of EDC later that month, one year after 

Dulles' "agonizing reappraisal" comment, hardly helped soothe relations between Washington and Paris. Still, Diem continued to enjoy 

strong support from such people as Mansfield. Even the French 

agreed to go along with the situation at a Washington conference that 

September in exchange for promises of continued U.S. assistance.59 

For all the suspicions about French motivations, few were under 

any illusions that all Diem had going for him was honesty ("rare in 

Indochina," as Ambassador Donald Heath wrote from Saigon) and 

intense patriotism. The latter, it was widely recognized, suited American objectives but hardly accommodated the French. Beyond that, 

he was a poor administrator, a member of the historically despised 

Roman Catholic minority, feudal in outlook, and influenced by a 

limited coterie, notably his brother and sister-in-law, the notorious 

"Dragon-Lady," Madame Nhu. 

Foster Dulles was clearly under pressure to make some sort of 

move; Diem's inability to handle the intrigues emanating from the 

various sects and factions was becoming scandalous. "He would need 

expert assistance that simply could not be found in Vietnam and 

probably could not be provided by France," advised Heath, adding 

that "he must endeavor to transfer Catholic and other antiCommunist elements from north to free zone of Vietnam." Heath 

also reported General Ely's belief that Diem would win the national 

elections if such a project of migration could succeed.60 The CIA's 

report of 23 August was decidedly negative, suggesting that the 

French were trying to play off Vietnamese leaders and sects against 

the government to get as many concessions as possible.61 

By then, Heath had already called attention to Diem's need for 

"a definite public assurance of American aid and support."62 As a 

direct response to his precarious position, the South Vietnamese 

premier received lavish support. Differences of opinion over U.S. 

training of indigenous Vietnamese forces had also been worked out. 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 47 

The Joint Chiefs had balked back in June, citing the necessary precondition of a "reasonably strong, stable, civil government in controJ."63 Dulles, however, persisted, arguing that reorganization and 

retraining of the army was "one of the most efficient means of enabling the Vietnamese Government to become strong." 64 Action 

memorandum 5429/2 of the NSC then supported the secretary, although the actual program was slow in getting started.65 

In October, Eisenhower told Diem that America would help 

South Vietnam "in its present hour of trial. " He offered to "assist the 

Government ... in developing and maintaining a strong, viable slate, 

capable of resisting attempted subversion or aggression through military means." American money would also be given directly to Diem 

rather than through the French.66 Finally, a Democrat, Mike 

Mansfield, in his first Senate term after having been a member of the 

House, made a quick trip to Saigon. Mansfield, whose views were 

most influential with Dulles, returned and declared that there was no 

alternative but to support Diem to the hilt. The senator could hardly 

have been more emphatic.67 

But Diem was still to weather his greatest crisis, which followed 

a negative report by ex-Army Chief of Staff, General J. Lawton 

Collins, who, having been sent to Saigon, cabled that Diem had to 

go. At the moment, in early April, before Diem had become heavily 

embattled in his clash with the sects, Eisenhower stood firmly behind 

the American viceroy. He implored Dulles "not to give up on Diem 

until it is quite certain because we bet on him heavily." Furthermore, 

said the president, Collins was apt to be hasty and he should be 

cautioned to go slowly.68 Then, as the situation in Saigon worsened, 

Dulles warmed to General Collins' arguments, and there is evidence 

that he was prepared to go far toward accepting his recommendations. On II April, when a coalition of sects counteracted Diem's 

efforts at stripping their power, the secretary authorized General 

Collins to go aJong with plans for Diem's replacement "in light of 

your reiterated conviction that Diem cannot gain adequate Vietnam 

support to establish an effective government." Most of all, Dulles 

wanted to avoid a civil war. That possibility was all too real ifDiem 

continued a forceful attempt "to reassert his authority over the Binh 

Xuyen."69 

By the 20th of the month, Dulles drew back, obviously under 

pressure from not only the president but Diem's other backers 

in Washington. He informed Collins that the Binh Xuyen insurgency was "minor" and that he had been meeting with a group of 
48 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

congressmen. "I told them that this was just the opportunity we had 

been waiting for to find out whether Diem had the courage and 

determination to act and whether he had the loyalty of the Army, but 

the French prevented his acting and allowed the Binh Xuyen to defy 

him with impunity and to compel him to make a 'truce' which put 

the National Government on a parity with a bunch of gangsters." 

Then he added, "This is a matter not just for the Executive but for 

the Congress and those who have leadership in this matter, such as 

Mansfield in the Senate and Walter Judd in the House," and they 

were "very strongly opposed to any shift. As things now stand, they 

would, I think, throw their influence, perhaps decisively, against 

backing any substitute that now seems in sight." 7

0 

Almost miraculously, Diem regained the initiative. As far as 

Washington was concerned, the crisis had passed. Diem's National 

Army drove the Binh Xuyen back into Cholon, the "overseas" Chinese counterpart of Saigon. 71 The event brought immediate relief to 

Dulles and Eisenhower. Five months later, aided by some of 

Lansdale's ingenuity, Diem won a national referendum that dethroned Bao Dai and made him president. Although Diem had been 

persuaded to settle for 60 or 70 percent of the vote, he was able to 

claim 98.2 percent. Even before that triumph, Diem had signaled his 

intent to ignore the Geneva Accords' provision for a nationwide 

election in I 956 to achieve unification. 

Despite some reservations, mostly pertaining to political legitimacy, Eisenhower and Dulles supported that decision. As early as 13 

June 1955, in fact, the president had approved National Security 

Council recommendations that had the effect of upholding Diem's 

stand on the elections. 72 The move foreclosed a significant unfinished 

piece of business from Geneva. It also narrowed the options under 

which Ho Chi Minh might achieve his unification. Politically, it 

spared Washington from having to preside over the extension of 

communism below the 17th Parallel, which would have liabilities at 

home almost akin to the breaching of the Korean armistice line. 

Accordingly, the NSC recommendations also included the recommendation that the U.S. "take necessary military and other action to 

assist any state or dependent territory in the SEA TO area willing to 

resist Communist resort to force. " 73 

The regional mutual security pact had already been signed at 

Manila in September 1954. Its ratification by the Senate on the 8th 

of that month was reminiscent of strong bipartisan endorsement of 

such military security initiatives, ranging all the way to the Gulf of 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 49 

Tonkin Resolution of 1964. Of course, it lacked the military apparatus of NATO, and so one might emphasize SEA TO's symbolic importance. Robert Komer has been quoted as having said privately in 

1961 that SEA TO was a "millstone" directed against nonexistent 

dangers of overt aggression. 74 

But it was Dulles himselfwho had serious misgivings. He feared 

the removal of American options, of freedom to respond as he saw fit. 

The U.S. would also be vulnerable to British and French objections. 

They "are blocking everything we want to do," Dulles complained to 

Livingston Merchant during one oThis frequent moments of exasperation. Finally, would it really be useful considering the mood of the 

participants? "The running away from the word Communist," 

Dulles complained, "-the unwillingness to allow unofficial observers to come from Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia and the objection to 

our having any military mission to Cambodia are examples. They 

seem to have no desire or intention to hold the balance of Indochina."75 Yet, for all his doubts, he had helped to deepen the 

American stake in the area. And that stake seemed inescapable, 

militarily as well as politically. Crises that produced the Formosa 

Resolution of 1955 and anxiety over whether the Communists would 

overrun the tiny islands en route to the Pescadores and Taiwan 

helped to maintain the cold-war climate in the Pacific. Such circumstances only emphasized the importance of "containing" China. 

Meanwhile, in South Vietnam, the French, having reached a 

total impasse with the United States, pulled out in 1956, leaving only 

a token liaison mission with the International Control Commission. 

Diem retained his feudal control, making but niggling land reforms, 

and Washington helped keep him alive with massive aid. The Communist opposition, now known as the VietCong, accelerated activities with aid from the North, and the South Vietnamese president 

barely escaped an attempted coup d'etat in November 1959. In 

August of 1960, a special intelligence estimate reported that deteriorating conditions and the ripeness of Vietnam for Communist-led 

guerrilla operations made conditions "adverse to the stability and 

effectiveness" of Diem's government. 76 At the end of that year, with 

the support of Ho Chi Minh, the National Liberation Front was 

organized to overthrow Diem. 

The Eisenhower administration had by then begun to respond 

with counterinsurgency paramilitary programs. In early J anuary 

1961, two weeks before the new administration took over in Washington, Nikita Khrushchev delivered his famous exhortation in 
50 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

behalfof"wars ofnationalliberation." Just three days before the end 

of the Eisenhower presidency, Edward Lansdale warned that the 

"free Vietnamese, and their government, probably will be able to do 

no more than postpone eventual defeat-unless they find a Vietnamese way of mobilizing their total resources and then utilizing 

them with spirit. " 77 Those final days of the Republican administration would have been distinctly inappropriate for an Indochinese 

collapse. Nixon, facing J ohn F. Kennedy for rhe presidency, had 

more than his share of other Eisenhower administration liabilities to 

defend. 

Just before leaving the White House, on 19January 1961 Dwight 

Eisenhower briefed his successor in the Cabinet Room. Calmly, he 

underscored how the serious threat of communism in Laos was a 

potential threat to all of Southeast Asia. Thus, in marked contrast to 

1954, the question was less one of Laos' importance than the urgency 

of preventing Pathet Lao control. So it went, from making the most 

out of a bad Laotian situation to the elusive search for stability in 

South Vietnam. 

Kennedy had few options about maintaining cold-war initiatives. 

Even if they were not so limited, there is little evidence that he would 

have made striking new departures. If anything, it was even more 

important than under Eisenhower and Dulles to demonstrate the 

administration's firmness against the subversion of American interests. Few individuals within the New Frontier questioned the wisdom 

of Southeast Asian policies. Komer, of the NSC staff, just as Walt 

Rostow and Defense Secretary McNamara and Secretary of State 

Dean Rusk, was sold on th.e global implications. For example, 

Komer put it very plainly that first July, shortly after President 

Kennedy had returned from his Vienna confrontation with 

Khrushchev. "I believe," he wrote, "it is very important that this 

government have a major anti-Communist victory to its credit in the 

six months before the Berlin crisis is likely to get really hot."78 At the 

same time, writing for the new president's benefit, Rostow urged 

Sorensen that "the buildup of our forces should be related to contingencies in Southeast Asia as well as in Central Europe--and perhaps 

to contingencies elsewhere as well. " 79 

None of this differed very much from the analysis of the Eisenhower people. The major change was that, by the 1960s and with a 

new administration, fewer questions remained about what had to be 

done. Securing the investment was the major priority. A complete 

array of justifications, including the creation of SEATO, was firmly 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 51 

imprinted both on paper and in the minds of those in positions of 

responsibility. As Sorensen later told an oral history interviewer, 

Kennedy "did feel strongly that for better or worse, enthusiastic or 

unenthusiastic, we had to stay there until we left on terms other than 

a retreat or abandonment of our commitment."80 

In contrast to the leadership of the secretary of state in the 

Eisenhower administration, it was the secretary of defense, 

McNamara, who became a key player during the Kennedy years (as 

he would later under Johnson). He was convinced of the importance 

of a non-Communist Vietnam,just as he assumed its necessity for the 

maintenance of a strong anti-Soviet stance throughout the world. 

"We should be very clear as to the role of the United States in South 

Vietnam," he said in March 1962. "We are there at the request of the 

South Vietnamese Government. President Diem has asked that we 

supply training and logistical equipment to the South Vietnamese. "81 

The question was "How?" not "Should we?" What was more 

efficacious-getting the proud and stubborn Diem to agree to accept 

American troops, or merely providing him with advisers to build up 

the a rmy ofVietnam? By 1961, an estimated five to seven hundred 

soldiers, supported by Chinese weapons, were infiltrating into the 

South, a clear violation of the Geneva Accords. Rejecting a reciprocal 

open abrogation of the agreement, the Kennedy administration nevertheless accelerated the counterinsurgency program.82 

Over the Pentagon's objections, Kennedy created the elite command known as the Special Forces, members of which arrived in 

South Vietnam in civilian clothes. By November of 1961,900 American military men were there.83 The Kennedy role also involved 

importing the strategic hamlet concept of Sir Robert Thompson, and 

eventually raising the number of advisers to 16,500. Dealing with the 

Viet Cong and their support from the National Liberation Front, 

which operated so freely throughout the countryside of the South, 

from the Mekong Delta to the city of Saigon itself, was one thing. 

Contending with Diem and his closed government was quite another. 

Confronting the crisis in Laos inevitably helped strengthen the 

support given to Diem. With a show of force in the China Sea and the 

Gulf of Siam, including 500 marines deployed into Thailand across 

the Mekong River from Vientiane, Kennedy demonstrated some 

muscle.84 From SEATO, however, Kennedy received a weaker response, with France in the forefront blocking strong military intervention. Nevertheless, Kennedy increased U.S. aid to fight the 
52 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Pathet Lao guerrillas. By April, 300 American military advisers were 

in Laos, supported by S32 million in economic assistance, triple the 

annual rate of 1955-1959.85 At least for the moment, Kennedy faced 

the inevitable solution for Laos: a coalition government headed by 

Prince Souvanna Phouma. The process of putting together that 

regime began in Geneva on 12 May and did not confirm creation of 

the new government until the summer of 1962. 

Acceptance of coalition rule was widely regarded as a temporary 

solution. Assumptions were rife about aid from Moscow and North 

Vietnam, in particular, ultimately working to create a proCommunist "neutralist" government in Vientiane. Surreptitiously, 

however, in an effort to safeguard against a "neutralist" government, 

the NSC approved and the president dispatched an enhanced 

MAAG force to counter North Vietnamese-supplied and equipped 

guerrillas. The Church committee later reported that the Laotian 

operation "eventually became the largest paramilitary effort in postwar history." The 9,000 Meo tribesmen outfitted for such guerrilla 

activities were virtually decimated.86 

None of that was public knowledge at the time. What was known 

was that the youthful new American president had sustained serious 

setbacks. In April, the Bay of Pigs had resulted in a "perfect disaster." Then, with militants calling for a renewed offensive against 

Cuba and the political risks inherent in Laotian neutrality, Kennedy 

had to prepare for his meeting with Khrushchev. Berlin's future was 

the big issue, the potential flash point, the most dangerous point of 

conflict between East and West. No other symbol was comparable. 

On 5 May, the NSC accordingly urged "that efforts should be made 

to reassure Sarit [ofThailand] and Diem that we are not abandoning 

Southeast Asia."87 As Komer advised McGeorge Bundy and Walt 

Rostow, "We must seriously consider precautionary measures to 

'seal ofr South Vietnam in such a way as to deter another Laos. "88 

The immediate move was sending Vice President Johnson to Saigon. 

Johnson, who hailed Diem as an Asian Churchill, also left no doubt 

that the choice was to save Diem and his country or lose the entire 

region to the Reds.89 From Saigon, the vice president brought a 

request for more aid but not troops. Given the support from Washington, Diem insisted, the job could be done. 

Once more, there was no doubt about the American mission. 

Kennedy himself, subscribing to the domino theory, addressed the 

Congress shortly after Johnson's return and declared that the battle 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 53 

of "freedom versus tyranny" was being waged in Vietnam.90 Diem 

then followed through with a letter to Kennedy requesting American 

personnel to train his air force "officers and technical specialists." He 

also wanted a considerable expansion of the MAAG.91 

The biggest obstacle was Ngo Dinh Diem within the context of 

the society he was trying to govern. Dealing with him involved two 

approaches. The military, of course, took priority. Then there was 

the matter of his personal leadership. While his rejection of American 

troops could be appreciated and respected, there was the problem of 

keeping him in power and helping to turn the tide against the Viet 

Cong. 

An upswing of Viet Cong attacks in September resulted in a 

spectacular raid on a provincial capital only fifty-five miles from 

Saigon, which included the public beheading of the local chief.92 

During the first half of 1961 alone, there were more than five hundred 

assassinations of officials and other civilians, in addition to one thousand kidnappings, according to a report from Rostow to the president.93 A report by WilliamJ.Jorden, a member of the State Department's Policy Planning Council, documented massive North 

Vietnamese violations of the Geneva Accords. The CIA, modifying 

some of the report's more unreliable pieces of evidence, nevertheless 

estimated that some 10 to 20 percent of the Viet Cong's full-time 

strength of 16,000 consisted of infiltrated cadres. Such intervention 

from the North inevitably led the United States to feel no longer 

bound by the Geneva restrictions on personnel and military equipment.94 A direct response to Diem's obvious military needs was 

sending General Maxwell Taylor and Rostow to Saigon that fall. 

The Taylor-Rostow mission marked another vital step in the 

Indochinese escalation. With a theme that called for the U.S. to 

become "a limited partner" in the war, avoiding formalized advice 

while trying to supervise the war, it called for an 8,000-man logistical 

task force, which would serve as a "visible symbol of the seriousness 

of American intentions. "95 Kennedy deliberated and then decided to 

go ahead. Action memorandum 493 of the NSC, dated 15 November 

1961, shows that, contrary to other reports, Kennedy did not waste 

much time.96 

Thus, the Kennedy buildup began. Less than one month later, 

two American helicopter companies, involving thirty-three H-21 C's 

and 400 men, arrived in Vietnam. The New York Times then documented the new aid program by reporting a formal exchange of 

letters between Kennedy and Diem. The American president, noting 
54 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

the Geneva violations, promised early increases in assistance. 97 Visiting Saigon in February, Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy summoned an airport news conference and said, "We are going to win in 

Vietnam. We will remain here until we do win."Asked whether the 

U.S. was involved in a war, he replied, "We are involved in a struggle."98 In Kennedy's mind, writes Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., were considerations involving "the truculence of Moscow, the Berlin crisis 

and the resumption of nuclear testing ... [and] the President unquestionably felt that an American retreat in Asia might upset the 

whole world balance."99 The effort initiated by the Taylor-Rostow 

mission continued to expand. 100 By the end of 1962, 222 American 

aircraft were in the country, including 149 helicopters, and that year 

2,048 attack sorties (officially described as training missions) were 

flown by Amercian planes. lOt 

The number of Americans killed and wounded had increased 

tenfold over the previous year. As he had often done before, Kennedy 

turned to Mike Mansfield. Mansfield, who became the Senate majority leader when Lyndon j ohnson assumed the vice-presidency, went 

to Saigon at the president's request and confirmed the more downbeat reports being written by such correspondents as David 

Halberstam and Neil Sheehan. Indeed, it was true, said the senator; 

rt:here had not onJy been little progress since his last visit, but the 

United States was succumbing to the same kind of morass that had 

defeated the French. Undoubtedly, Mansfield's findings were the 

most troublesome words the president had yet heard. "If I tried to 

pull out completely now from Vietnam," Kennedy told him, "we 

would have another J oe McCarthy red scare on our hands, but I can 

do it after I'm reelected. So we had better make damned sure that I 

am reelected." 102 " It wasn't a pleasant picture I depicted for him," 

Mansfield said afterward.t03 

Mansfield had learned for himself, as did Mike Forrestal and 

Roger Hitsman in a subsequent visit, that Diem was much of the 

problem. His intractability was crippling the war effort. 1

04 "The Viet 

Cong actively exploited the government's domestic political shortcomings," said a CIA intelligence memorandum inJanuary.IOS Forrestal and Hitsman reported that the strategic hamlet program was 

mostly a sham, "inadequately equipped and defended," or "built 

prematurely in exposed areas." But their real concern was Diem's 

insistence on, in effect, governing through his family, especially 

"Brother Nhu and his wife, and Diem's reluctance to delegate 

is alienating the middle and higher level officials on whom the 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NCO DINH DIEM 55 

government must depend to carry out its plans." 106 Sending advisers, 

enlarging MAAG (it then became MACV, the Military Assistance 

Command, Vietnam), and deploying equipment and materiel were 

all much easier than moving Diem himself. 

fnstead of sensitivity toward the Buddhist opposition, he held on 

like a feudal monarch. He spurned the kinds of social and economic 

reforms that had been urged since the Eisenhower years. A group of 

economic experts sent to Vietnam in 1961 under Dr. Eugene Staley 

of the Stanford Research Institute had urged the importance of such 

reforms and recommended a 12 percent increase in the economic and 

social program previously earmarked for Vietnam. 107 Rather than 

showing receptivity to such needs, Diem hardened his authority. A 

crowd in Hue, gathered on 8 May to celebrate the anniversary of 

Buddha's birth, was fired into by government troops, and hunger 

strikes followed. But the most dramatic protest, and, internationally, 

the most memorable, was the photographed self-immolation of a 

monk on 11 June. From that moment, George Herring has written, 

"the Buddhist protest emerged into a powerful, apparently deeply 

rooted political movement that threatened the very survival of the 

Diem government." 108 Additional grizzly suicides made for other 

effective dramatizations of the grievances. "More Bonzi burning will 

cause domestic US reaction," Forrestal wired Bundy. "Suggest a 

demarche to Diem insisting on removal ofNhu and his wife to a post 

outside South Vietnam."109 

On 16June, against the backdrop "of sharply-increased Buddhist 

tensions and United States pressure," the Diem government signed 

an agreement with Buddhist leaders granting all their demands. 

Foremost among them was an end to religious persecution. "This is, 

in reality," Secretary Rusk was advised, "a long-standing resentment 

by the Buddhist leaders of what they regard as the privileged position 

occupiied by the minority Roman Catholic Church, of which President Diem and his family and a disproportionate number of civil and 

military officials are members .... Buddhist demonstrations, led by 

monks, nuns have spread to Saigon and other urban centers and the 

SVN government has felt compelled to impose extraordinary security 

measures." Moreover, the 16June agreement was seen as a test of the 

Diem government's sincerity.IIO 

Then, underscoring the dilemma, a memorandum from the Department of Intelligence and Research cautioned that removing the 

authoritarian government could lead to even more serious upheavals. 

The consequences could cripple the military effort. On the other 
56 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

hand, "Our silence over any period or implications that we regarded 

the revolt as an internal problem which we hope to see quickly 

resolved would probably be taken as support for the rebels." To 

counter such dangers by obvious American assistance for Diem 

would undoubtedly reduce the numbers willing to take on the Viet 

Cong. A rebel success against Diem, however, despite our efforts to 

keep him going, could result in "considerable hostiJjty toward the 

United States in the new administration. " 111 

The memorandum, written by Thomas L. Hughes, was 

prophetic, and events moved to the inevitable solution. On 21 August, just as Henry Cabot Lodge, Jr., was to arrive to replace 

Frederick Nolting as ambassador, South Vietnamese Special Forces, 

trained by the Americans and at the direction of Diem's brother, 

went on a rampage. Completely disregarding past assurances, they 

carried out massive raids in Hue, Saigon, and other cities. More than 

1,400 Buddhists were arrested during the ransacking of pagodas, and 

President Diem refused to disavow Nhu's actions. Only three days 

later, Washington learned that Nhu, with the knowledge of the opposing South Vietnamese generals, was negotiating with the Communists.112 That weekend, with Kennedy at Hyannis Port, an affirmative response to a cable from Lodge giving the green light for 

American acquiescence in a coup was vetoed. The effort to depose 

Diem, led from Washington in the president's absence by Averell 

Harriman, was killed by Kennedy's own indecision and opposition 

by his Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Maxwell 

Taylor, and McNamara. Both protested that the intended maneuver 

had been done behind their backs. 113 

After that hectic weekend, nothing conclusive resulted from the 

stormy White House meeting of 27 August. Kennedy, back from 

Cape Cod, confronted Nolting, just recently returned from Saigon. 

Under persistent questioning by the president, Nolting reiterated his 

confidence in the South Vietnamese leadership. But Nolting's most 

important point was that Nhu "can command people and the Vietnamese are respectful of those who can command." During the next 

few days, haste should be avoided. "If the smouldering resentment of 

the Vietnamese people grows and begins to show up in the Vietnamese military uruts to such an extent that the war effort is blocked, 

then we have an entirely different problem of creating an acceptable 

political base." 114 

Barely one week later, the president appeared on Walter 

Cronkite's CBS television program. Although his words have since 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 57 

been repeatedly misrepresented to make them appear as an indication of future American withdrawal, what he actually said constituted a reaffirmation of the commitment. Asked about whether Diem 

would change his pattern, Kennedy replied: "We hope that he comes 

to see that, but in the final analysis it is the people and the government itself who have to win or lose this struggle. All we can do is help, 

and we are making it very clear, but I don't agree with those who say 

we should withdraw. That would be a great mistake." 11 5 

Even as the president was taking his public stand, a series of 

meetings in Saigon between Lodge and the anti-Diem plotters sealed 

the decision. Washington had only to give the word that aid would 

be cut off, and that would be the signal for the coup. Diem's supporter, CIA Station Chief John Richardson, had already been recalled. The situation in Saigon was only worsening, especially among 

the urban elite, which, Roger Hitsman explained, "supplies both the 

military and civil officers on whom the war effort depends." 11 6 From 

Saigon, at the same time, Lodge was pressing for action. "The 

demonstrations in the schools are to me extremely curious and impressive manifestations," he cabled on 11 September. "Out of 

nowhere apparently appears a banner and a plan to put up a roadblock or a scheme for conducting a parade. Perhaps this is the work 

of Communist agents, even though the students are undoubtedly not 

Communists .... The government is obviously cut off from reality .... The ship of state is slowly sinking." Aid should be suspended; 

then anti-American hatred might be lessened. We want to be careful 

lest we "substitute a Castro for a Batista." And, in a final warning, 

Lodge urged, "What is even more dangerous is that the situation 

here may not wait for us. The student demonstrations in Saigon, for 

example, are profoundly disturbing. At the very least, these reflect in 

a most unmistakable way the deep discontent of the middle and 

upper class population of Saigon. They're also the classic vehicle for 

communist action. " 117 But Dean Rusk advised patience, urging that 

nothing be done to stimulate plotting of a coup "pending final decisions which are still being formulated here." 118 

In a series of cables, some ofwhich have only recently been made 

available, Lodge continued to press the point. "Yet," as I have 

previously noted, "even at that point Kennedy wavered, suffering a 

recurrence of earlier doubts. He told Bundy that the U.S. should be 

in a position to blow the whistle if it looked as though the coup was 

failing." 119 But, as with so many situations, he was overtaken by 

events. General Taylor had already prepared a tabulation showing 
58 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

the probable loyalties of key military units and commanders "in the 

event a coup d'etat is undertaken in South Vietnam in the near 

future." 120 Worried about Diem's personal safety, Kennedy urged 

the embattled president to seek refuge in the American embassy. 1

21 

Only three weeks before Kennedy's own assassination, on 

1 November (Saigon time), Diem was forced to £lee the presidential 

palace and go to a hideout in the Chinese quarter. The next day, after 

having been supposedly guaranteed his safe return, he and his 

brother were shot according to a prearranged plan. Kennedy's fury 

at hearing the news has been widely documented: a dead Diem was 

the last thing he had wanted. Ambassador Lodge soon afterward 

wired some cheerful news: a member of the British Advisory Mission 

in Saigon had told him that "the coup should help very much to win 

the war." 122 

What would have happened had Diem remained in power can 

only be speculated, although Lacouture's point about his inevitable 

downfall is as valid as any. We also know that Diem's death was 

followed by findings that his regime had systematically falsified military reports and the progress of the strategic hamlet program, which 

had developed into a most unfortunate undertaking. T he military 

situation was far worse than anyone had imagined. 123 As a result of 

the rapid turnover of leadership in Saigon within the next few years, 

the conventional wisdom is that Washington, having acted as a 

handmaiden for the coup, had thereby deepened the American commitment far beyond anything in the past. 1

24 

Could Kennedy-at that moment-have responded by writing 

off the U.S. responsibility, disassociating himselffrom both the coup 

and South Vietnam's future? When viewed with the perspective of 

two decades, it hardly seems possible. American involvement in the 

coup was too transparent, almost like the Bay of Pigs. Retreat from 

a cold-war commitment was simply not regarded as a realistic option. Having undermined what Washington had underwritten, dismissal of the entire project was unthinkable, certainly not in 1963. 

Then, too, with his own reelection campaign due the following 

year, Kennedy was not that secure at home. At no point in his 

presidency, including immediately after the Cuban fiasco, was his 

leadership so precarious. The administration was in a serious deadlock with the Congress over legislation, and that was in large part 

caused by its endorsement of significant civil rights legislation which, 

in turn, had lowered his national popularity. Conservatives, if not 

already agitated by such social changes and by Supreme Court 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 59 

decisions that had the president's support, were also agitated by the 

ratification of the Limited Nuclear Test Ban Agreement. During 

those weeks before Dallas, while the new situation in South Vietnam 

had yet to be resolved, Kennedy could only hope for the best-and 

for Barry Goldwater as his opponent in 1964. 

Even then, only events like Diem's death were likely to place 

Vietnam on the front pages. Southeast Asia was important for what 

might happen, not for what was happening. Few doubted its international implications, and there was just enough evidence that Ho Chi 

Minh, through materiel assistance from both the Soviets and Communist China, was trying to extend Marxist rule throughout the 

area. Throughout the period, few people expected Ho Chi Minh to 

become another Tito, or that the People's Republic of China would 

follow the Yugoslavian precedent. What had happened in Cuba, and 

the path taken by Fidel Castro, were a far more prominent fear. 

Public opinion in the U.S. was sold on the need to stop Communists 

everywhere. Had any national political leadership failed to respond, 

their replacements were ready to come in from the bullpen. As Maj. 

Gen. Jack N. Merritt has noted in his introduction to Col. Harry S. 

Summers' study, On Strategy, military strategy was subordinated to 

the "national policy of containment of communist expansion."125 

Finally, one decade of the Diem experience should have been 

sufficient to signal the fallacy of the enterprise. But, alas, Vietnam 

may have had to have been endured to !'Tlake future Vietnams less 

likely. Presidents J ohnson and Nixon, having inherited the quagmire, found that their fortunes, like those of Eisenhower and 

Kennedy, were irrevocably tied to popular perceptions of cold-war 

diplomacy. Replaying the record of the fifties and sixties will not 

produce a different tune. 

NOTES 

Key to Abbreviations 

DDRS-Declassified Documents Research System 

DDEL-Dwight D. Eisenhower Library 

JFKL-John F. Kennedy Library 

I. Eisenhower Oral History Interv, by Philip Crowell, 28Jul64, Dulles Papers, 

Princeton University. 
60 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOS I U M 

2. Melvin Gurtov, Tlu Unit.td States Against tlu Third World: Anti-Mtionalism and 

lnterventicn (New York: Praeger, 1974), p. 26. 

3. Public Papm of tlu Presidents: Dwight D. Eisenhower, 8 vols. (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1960--61), 2:383. 

4. Memo from J . N. Greene, 19 Sep 53, DuUes Special Assistants Chronological 

series, box 5, DDEL. 

5. Chester L. Cooper, Tire Lost Crusade: America in Vietnam (New York: Dodd, 

Mead & Company, 1970), p. 64. 

6. Dulles to Eisenhower, I Feb 54, Whitman file, Dulles-Hcrter series, box 2, 

DDEL. 

7. Public Papers of tire Presidents: Eisenhower, 2:383. 

8. Hagerty Diary entries, box I , Hagerty Papers, DDEL. 

9. J. F. Dulles Telephone Conversations with Allen Dulles, 13 Aug 54, Telephone 

Conversations, box 2, Dulles Papers, DDEL. 

10. George C. Herring, America's Longest War: The Unit.td Stat.ts and Viett~am, 1950-

1975 (New York: J ohn Wiley & Sons, 1979), p. 25. 

II. Herbert S. Parmet, Eisenhower and tire American Crusades (New York: Macmillan, 1972), p. 292. 

12. J. F. Dulles toW. Bedell Smith, 9 Feb 54, Whitman file, Dulles-Herter series, 

box 2, DDEL. 

13. Cabinet Mins, IOJul 53, Sherman Adams Papers, Baker Library, Dartmouth 

College. 

14. Dwight D. Eisenhower, Mandate for Change, 1953-/956 (Garden City, N.Y.: 

Doubleday & Co, 1963), p. 109. 

15. New York Times, II Sep 53; Leslie H. Gelb and Richard K . Betts, Tire Irony of 

Vietnam: Tire System Worked (Washington: The Brookings Institution, 1979), p. 51. 

16. "U.S. Assistance for Indochina," 26 Mar 54, White House Memorandum 

series, box I, Dulles Papers, DDEL. 

17. Department of State Bulletin, 29 June 1953, in Subject series, box 9, Dulles 

Papers, DDEL. 

18. Ntw York Times, 3 Jut 53. 

19. Ibid., 19 Aug 53. 

20. Robert F. Randle, Geneva 1954: The Settlement of tire lndoehinese War (Princeton: 

Princeton University Press, 1969), p. 28; New York Times, 14, 15, and 18 Dec 53. 

2 1. New York Ti1nes, 4 Feb 54. 

22. Dulles to Eisenhower, 9 Feb 54, Whitman file, Dulles-Herter series, box 2, 

DDEL. 

23. The Senator Gravel EdiJicn of the Pentagon Papers, 4 vols. (Boston: Beacon Press, 

1971), 1:436. 

24. Hagerty Diary entries, 8 February 1954, box I, Hagerty Papers, DDEL. 

25. Notes of President's Meeting with Congressional Leaders, 8 Feb 54, Sherman 

Adams Papers, Baker Library, Dartmouth College. 

26. Dulles Memo, 24 Feb 54, White House Memorandum series, box I , Dulles 

Papers, DDEL. 

27. Randle, Geneva, p. 39. 

28. Cr. J . F. Dulles, Memorandum of Conversation with the President, 19 May 

54, White House Memorandum series, box I, Dulles Papers, DDEL. There is reason 

to believe that Knowland's private apprehensions about the renewed use of American troops were in some contrast to his more public remarks, such as on the Senate 

floor. 

29. General G. B. Erskine to The Executive Officer, Operations Coordinating 

Board, 2 Mar 54, Whitman file, Dullcs-Herter series, box 2, DDEL. 

30. Eisenhower, Mandate, pp. 346-47. 
THE MAKING AND UNMAKING OF NGO DINH DIEM 61 

31. Memorandum of Dinner with Sir Winston Churchill, 12 Apr 54, White House 

Memorandum series, box I, Dulles Papers, DDEL. 

32. Peter Lyon, Eisenhower: Portrait oftlu Hero (Boston: Little, Brown & Company, 

1974), p. 610; Gelb and Betts, Irony of Vietnam, p. 60. 

33. Parmet, Eisenhower, p. 368. 

34. lnterv, author with Richard M. Nixon, 5 jun 84. 

35. Neil Sheehan et al. (eds.), The Pentagon Papers as Published by tlu New York Times 

(New York: Bantam Books, 1971), p. 12. 

36. :Dulles Memorandum of Luncheon Conversation with the President, 11 May 

54, White House Memorandum series, box I, Dulles Papers, DDEL. 

37. IDuiJes to Dillon, 17 May 54, Whitman file, Dulles-Herter series, box 2, 

DDEL. 

38. Memorandum of Conversation, Dulles and Eisenhower, 19 May 54, White 

House Memorandum series, box I, Dulles Papers, DDEL; Telephone Call, Dulles 

to MacArthur, 20 May 54, Telephone series, box 2, Dulles Papers, DDEL. 

39. Dulles to Smith and Dillon, 14 Jun 54, Subject series, box 9, Dulles Papers 

DDEL; Parmet, Eisenhower, p. 379. 

40. Stanley Karnow, Vietnam: A History (New York: Viking Press, 1983), p. 213. 

41 . :Oulles to Eisenhower, 5 Jun 54, Whitman file, Dulles-Herter series, box 2, 

DDEL. 

42. Jean Lacouture, Vietnam: Between Two Truces (New York: Vintage Books, 

1965), p. xii. 

43. Ibid., p. 34. 

44. Robert McClintock to Dillon, 5 j ul 54, Department of State, Foreign Relations 

of the United States /952- 1954: Indochina, vol. 13 (Washington: Government Printing 

Office, 1982), p. 1784n. 

45. Telephone Conversation, Dulles and Kalijarvi, 6 Dec 56, Telephone Call 

series, box 5, Dulles Papers, DDEL. 

46. Dulles to DiiJon, 18 Aug 54, FRUS, 1952-1954, 13:1957. 

47. Ibid., p. 2013. 

48. The Senator Gravel Edition of the Pentagon Papers, I: 183. 

49. Lodge to Dulles, II Jun 54. General Correspondence and Memorandum 

series, box 2, Dulles Papers, DDEL. 

50. Cf. Robert Scheer and Warren Hinckle, "The 'Vietnam Lobby,"' Ramparts, 

july 1965, pp. 16-24; Karnow, Vietnam, pp. 213-18; Herring, America's Longest War, 

pp. 49, 53-55; Barbara W. Tuchman, The March of Folly: From Troy to Vietnam (New 

York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1984), pp. 271-72, 274-76; Parmet, Eisenhower, pp. 393-95. 

51. Douglas Kinnard, The Secretary of Defense (Lexington: University Press of 

Kentucky, 1980), p. 91. 

52. J ohn F. Dulles Oral History lnterv, john W. Hanes, Jr., Princeton. 

53. J ohn F. Dulles Oral History lnterv, Richard Bissell, Princeton. 

54. Report of Legislative Leaders Conference, 26 Apr 55, Adams Papers, Baker 

Library, Dartmouth College. 

55. FRUS, 1952- 1954, 13:1682. 

56. Ibid., p. 1978. 

57. Lacouture, Vietnam, p.24. 

58. Telephone Conversation, Allen Dulles and john F. Dulles, 22 jul 54, Telephone series, box 2, Dulles Papers, DDEL; Donald R. Heath to Dulles, 23 J ul 54, 

FRUS, 1952-1954, 13:1872. 

59. Tilt Stnillbr Gravel Edition of the Pmtagon Papers, I :235. 

60. FRUS, 1952- 1954, 13:1872. 

61. Ibid., p. 1979. 

62. Ibid., p. 1872. 
62 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

63. Tht Sena/Qr Grauel Editwn oftlte Pentagon Papers, 1:215. 

64. Ibid., p. 216. 

65. Ibid. 

66. Herring, America's Longest War, p. 47; Parmet, Eisenhower, p. 392; Kinnard, 

Secretary of Defense, p. 91. 

67. FRUS, 1952- 1954, 13: 2351. 

68. Telephone Conversation, Dulles and Eisenhower, I Apr 55, Telephone series, 

box 10, Dulles Papers, DDEL. 

69. Dulles to Collins, II Apr 55, Wh.ite House Memorandum series, box 3, Dulles 

Papers, DDEL. 

70. Dulles to J. Lawton Collins, 20 Apr 55, Subject series, box 9, Dulles Papers, 

DDEL. 

71. The Sena/Qr Grauel Edition of the Pentagon Papers, I :234. 

72. Gelb and Betts, Irony of Vietllam, p. 64. 

73. Ibid. 

74. John Lewis Gaddis, Strategies of Containment (New York: Oxford University 

Press, 1982), p. 241. 

75. Telephone Call, Dulles to Livingston Merchant, 30 Aug 54, Telephone series, 

box 2, Dulles Papers, DDEL. 

76. Warren I. Cohen, Dean Rusk (Totowa, N.J.: Cooper Square Publishers, 1980), 

p. 177. 

77. Herring, America's Longest War, pp. 66--69; Parmet, Eisenhower, pp. 562--63. 

78. Gelb and Betts, Irony of Vietnam, p. 70. 

79. Rostow to Sorensen, 20 J u1 61, box 60, Sorensen Papers, JFKL. 

80. Oral History lnterv, Theodore C. Sorensen, JFKL. 

81. Henry L. Trewhit, McNamara: His Ordeal in tht Pentagon (New York: Harper 

& Row, 1971), p. 199. 

82. Guenter Lewy, America in Vietnam (New York: Oxford University Press, 1978), 

p. 22. 

83. Ibid.; Herbert S. Parmet, JFK: Tht Presidency of john F. Kennedy (New York: 

The Dial Press, 1983), p. 138. 

84. Arthur M. Sch1esinger,Jr., A Thousand Days: John F. Kennedy in tht White House 

(Boston: Houghton Miffiin Company, 1965), p. 333; Parmet, JFK, p. 142. 

85. Walter LaFeber, America, Russia and tht Cold War, 194~/980 , 4th ed. (New 

York: John Wiley & Sons, 1980), p. 221. 

86. Parmet,JFK, pp. 153-54. 

87. NSC Action Memorandum 2425, 5 May 61, box 313, NSC Papers, JFKL. 

88. DDRS, 1984 (#216), 4 May 6l,JFKL. 

89. The Senator Gravel Edition of the Pentagon Papers, 2:56-59. 

90. LaFeber, America, Russia and the Cold War, p. 235. 

91. The Senator Grauel Editwn of the Pentagon Papers, 2: II. 

92. Ibid., p. 4. 

93. W. W. Rostow to Kennedy, 8 Nov 61, President's Office file, box 65,JFKL. 

94. Lewy, America in Vietnam, p. 23. 

95. The Senator Grauel Edition of the Penwgon Papers, 2: 14-15, 652-54; Herring, 

America's Longest War, pp. 80--81. 

96. NSC Report of Actions, 15 Nov 61, box 313,JFKL. 

97. New York Times, 15 Dec 61. 

98. Ibid ., 18 Feb 62. 

99. Schlesinger, Thousand Days, p. 548. 

I 00. The Sena/Qr Gravel Edition of the Pentagon Papers, 2: 18. 

101. Lewy, America i11 Vietnam, p. 24. 

102. Cohen, Rusk, p. 189. 
THE LEGACY OF THE FIRST INDOCHINA WAR 63 

103. Herring, America's Longest War, p. 92. 

104. Tlu Smator Gravel Edition of the Pentagon Papers, 2:717-25. 

105. DDRS, 1984 (#96), II Jan 63,JFKL. 

106. Parmet, JFK, p. 329. 

107. The Senator Gravel Edition of the Pentagon Papers, 2:3, II; DDRS, 1978 (#128A), 

I Aug 61, JFKL. 

108. Herring, America's Longest War, p. 96. 

109. Forrestal to Bundy, 2 J ul 63, DDRS, 1984 (#735), JFKL. 

110. Thomas L. Hughes to Dean Rusk, 21 Jun 63, DDRS, 1984 (#46l),JFKL. 

Ill. Ibid. 

112. Parmet, JFK, pp. 330-31. 

113. Herring, America's Longest War, p. 99. 

114. Memorandum of Conference with the President, 27 Aug 63, DDRS, 1983 

(#733), J FKL. 

115. Public Papers oftlu Presidents: john F. Ken.nedy, 1963 (Washington: Government 

Printing Office, 1964), p. 652. 

116. Memo, Roger Hilsman, II Sep 63, DDRS, 1984 (#483), JFKL. 

117. Telg, Lodge to Rusk, II Sep 63, DDRS, 1983 (#531), JFKL. 

118. Telg, Rusk to Lodge, 15 Sep 63, DDRS, 1983 (#533), JFKL. 

119. Parmet, JFK, p. 334. 

120. Maxwell Taylor to Kennedy, 30 Aug 63, DDRS, 1984 (#155), J FKL. 

121. Parmet, JFK, p. 335. 

122. Telg, Lodge to Rusk, 3 Nov 63, DDRS, 1982 (#1103), JFKL. 

123. Cohen, Rusk, pp. 191-92. 

124. Within one year after the coup, South Vietnam had seven different governments. 

125. Jack N. Merritt, in Harry G. Summers, Jr., On Strategy (Novato, Calif.: 

Presidio Press, 1982), p. xiii. 

Eight Decisions for War 

January 1965-February 1966 

Alexander S. Cochran, Jr. 

I 

From the point of view of American participation in the Second 

Indochina War, the period from January 1965 through February 

1966 was a critical one. At the beginning of 1965, the major U.S. 

military headquarters in Vietnam was the U.S. Military Assistance 

Command, Vietnam (MACV), whose main mission was to assist the 

South Vietnamese armed forces in their struggle against an insurgent 

foe, the VietCong. American military forces in Vietnam at that time 

numbered less than 24,000 personnel-15,000 Army, 7,000 Air 

Force, 1,000 Navy, and 900 Marine Corps. The only units involved 

in combat were the various Army helicopter companies, the small 

Army, Marine, and Special Forces detachments that advised and 

sometimes led Vietnamese units into combat, and some 222 Air 

Force aircraft, only 50 percent of which could be considered tactical. 

MACV's primary job was essentially to work itself out of a job 

through successful advice and assistance. 1 The overall concern was 

essentially "how to stop losing the war," and the primary means 

seemed to be by somehow holding the country together. In Saigon 

and Hawaii, military planners and strategists pondered the bewildering array of options to do so-continued or increased military assistance, direct or indirect application of American air power, limited 

65 
66 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

or massive introduction of American ground forces, and the proper 

emphasis on "the other war,'' pacification. And in Washington, 

policymakers watched with apparent detachment. 

Fourteen months later, in February 1966, the U.S. military 

strength stood at over 175,000 troops with more projected. There 

were more than 116,000 Army personnel in U.S. Army, Vietnamtwo plus divisions, consisting of twenty-two maneuver battalions. 

Strength of the Marine Amphibious Force stood at 40,000 troopstwelve maneuver battalions. The Air Force's 2d Air Division now 

numbered 19,000 officers and men with 780 tactical aircraft. 

MACV's objective was still to work its way out of a job, but advice 

and assistance were now supplemented by massive American military power to persuade the North Vietnamese government to cease 

its active participation in the war and to withdraw its support from 

the VietCong. The overall concern was now "how to win the war," 

and the only question was now where and how to apply American 

military power. During these fourteen months, MACV planners and 

their superiors in Hawaii had moved through the varied options 

posed earlier and were now embarked upon an aggressive ground 

and air war against both the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese. 

Officials in Washington were now involved in the day-to-day conduct of the war.2 

This large increase in American military strength, rapid reorientation from an advisory to a combat role, the shift from how to stop 

losing the war to how to win it, and active participation by those in 

Washington were the results of eight decisions for war that significantly shaped and directed the nature of America's role in the remainder of that war. Tbis paper analyzes these decisions, isolating 

them as they occurred, discussing their significance within the perspective of the time, and placing them in the broader context of the 

overall war. During these fourteen months, the nature of the war was 

dramatically altered, as was the degree of American participation. 

Events seemed to toreclose options for American decision makers, 

and the results of their deliberations shaped future strategy. At times, 

they withheld decisions, presumably to retain options. In these instances, recommendations from lower levels became decisions. And 

over the long haul, precision in policy and rigor in strategy were 

sacrificed for the sake of flexibility in options. It proved a disastrous 

way to conduct a war. 
EIGHT DECISIONS FOR WAR 67 

II 

The first major decision for war in 1965 was actually a series of 

decisions made during February in Washington. Their origins grew 

from approval by President Lyndon B. Johnson in December 1964 of 

a two-phased program for the selective use of air power designed to 

force the North Vietnamese either to withdraw their support of the 

Viet Cong or to undertake discussions at the negotiation table.3 

Documentation now available implies that he selected this course of 

action because of a lack of agreement among his civilian and military 

national security advisers. Likewise, he was still conscious of his 

election promises for domestic priorities. Accordingly, he approved 

only Phase I, Operation BARREL ROLL, armed reconnaissance 

flights over infiltration routes in Laos, while leaving Phase II, air 

strikes on North Vietnam, approved in principle only. He continued 

this cautious stance through December after a Viet Cong terrorist 

attack on an officers' billet in Saigon, despite vigorous requests from 

Ambassador Maxwell D. Taylor for retaliatory air strikes against 

North Vietnam.4 

Johnson altered this stance in January when the South Vietnamese government underwent yet another internal shuffiing, again 

paralyzing the overall war effort, and when Buddhist riots broke out 

with heavy anti-American overtones. In early February, the Viet 

Cong-to this day, we still do not know if this was on local initiative 

or at North Vietnamese direction-struck American military installations, first at Pleiku and then at Qhi Nhon. The president's National Security Adviser, McGeorge Bundy, was coincidentally in 

Vietnam on a fact-finding mission. Upon his return to Washington, 

he submitted a series of recommendations to J ohnson, the major 

element of which was Phase II American air strikes on North Vietnamese targets.5 

Bundy's recommendations set off a flurry of high-level deliberations in Washington and resulted in a series of decisions with considerable import.6 The president ordered all American dependents in 

Vietnam home. This had long been a subject of vigorous debate 

between American officials in Vietnam, who feared how this might 

be seen by their Vietnamese counterparts, and the president, who 

was concerned about how any loss of American women and children's lives might be perceived on the domestic scene. In ordering 

the American dependents home, Johnson in effect put MACV on a 

"war footing." He approved air strikes over the North, initially as 
68 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

limited Phase II reprisal strikes, but soon as Operation ROLLING 

THUNDER, a sustained air campaign. To military planners in 

Hawaii, Saigon, and Washington, these steps signaled a clear change 

in strategy. To date, air power had been employed sparingly against 

the North Vietnamese logistical network to encourage diplomatic 

negotiations. Now the president directed that it be applied to punish. 

Implicitly raised now was the question as to what the next step might 

be for the president after the accelerated air campaign. The president 

also agreed to what then appeared a minor military measure, the 

dispatch of a Marine HAWK air defense battalion to Da Nang, in 

order to counter a possible North Vietnamese reprisal in the form of 

air strikes against American air facilities.7 This would soon prove to 

be "the nose of the camel," for there had been precious little thought 

in Washington or Saigon about security for this tiny force, which had 

only a limited self-defense capability. Within a month, this selfdefense requirement would spawn not only a major commitment of 

American ground combat forces to the Da Nang area but also a 

major assessment of an American ground tactical role throughout 

Vietnam.8 

By this series of decisions, the president sent powerful indications 

to his own advisers of his willingness to move past the domestic 

priorities established during his 1964 election campaign. He was a 

proud man when it came to "American honor," and, as he later 

recalled, "as we moved into 1965, my own concern grew steadily.''9 

One indication was his willingness to support the South Vietnamese 

government regardless of its apparent shakiness. George Ball, an 

active dissenter to Vietnam policy throughout the period, later wrote 

that the "prevailing view (was] that we needed to bomb not in order 

to punish Hanoi but to pump adrenal in into South Vietnam." 10 

Another indication was the use of American ground combat troops. 

Prior to dispatching Army ChiefofStaffGeneral Harold K.Johnson 

to Vietnam on a fact-finding mission in early March, the president 

told his senior Army adviser, in no uncertain terms, that he was 

interested in some other military solution to Vietnam besides bombing.11 General William C. Westmoreland, the American commander 

in Vietnam, later learned that the president had told General 

Johnson flatly, "You get things bubbling, General!" 12 The message 

to officials in Washington, Hawaii, and Saigon was obvious. The 

South Vietnamese government had to be supported, and planners 

should now actively consider the commitment of American ground 

combat troops a viable option.13 
EIGHT DECISIONS FOR WAR 69 

The cumulative decisions ofF ebruary 1965 were thus perceived 

in Washington, Hawaii, and Saigon as a major step towards American involvement in the ground war. In retrospect, it is now clear that 

little> if any, thought was given at this time to the option of withdrawing all American forces, no doubt because this implied defeat for the 

South Vietnamese forces. Neither were these decisions perceived as 

being a major step towards war. Rather the February decisions 

meant, as Leslie Gelb and Richard Betts have so descriptively suggested, "turn on the spigot, forge ahead, and hope for the best." 14 

The second major decision was made in Washington by President 

Johnson on I April 1965-National Security Action Memorandum 

Number 328. 15 This contained elements of earlier recommendations 

concerning Vietnam from Ambassador Taylor, USIS Director Carl 

Rowan, the CIA, and General Johnson. 16 Some specifically accelerated the American ground combat option. He approved an expansion of the mission assigned to the marines at Da Nang from a purely 

defensive role to more active counterinsurgency measures. General 

Westmoreland, the commandant of the Marine Corps, and Ambassador Taylor had pointed out that a certain amount of offensive 

action was necessary to preclude surprise attacks and to protect 

Da Nang from mortar attacks. Johnson also bowed to demands from 

Vietnam and the Joint Chiefs, ordering to Vietnam additional 

Marine units along with an "air squadron and associated headquarters and support elements." The marines were now ashore in force, 

changing their designation from "Expeditionary Force" to 

"Amphibious Force." The "nose of the camel" suddenly became a 

long neck. Additionally, he increased the scope of air strikes in the 

North, calling for the continuance of "the present slowly ascending 

tempo of ROLLING THUNDER." While it was becoming increasingly obvious that the tactic of air strikes to force negotiations was 

unlikely to succeed, he opted to continue the pressure. But, most 

significantly, he signaled a new direction in American military strategy. Shortly after General Johnson's visit to Vietnam, General Westmoreland had submitted to the Joint Chiefs a massive "Commander's Estimate of the Military Situation of South Vietnam" in 

which, for the first time, he expanded the concept of operations by 

American ground combat forces in Vietnam-thirty-two maneuver 

battalions-and outlined the necessary combat support and service 

support requirements for this multidivisional force. 17 As military 

planners knew, it was an easy matter to deploy the maneuver battalions, but it was another matter getting required logistical units into 
70 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

position. The president laid the groundwork for logistical deployment by authorizing "an 18-20,000 man increase in U.S. military 

support forces to fill out existing units and supply needed logistical 

personnel." 

With this April decision, PresidentJohnson began to foreclose his 

options, presumably to retain his flexibility. Yet to his planners, he 

moved one step closer to committing American ground combat units 

to South Vietnam. As Gelb and Betts have observed, he "had decided to bite the bullet and take command." 18 But the full extent of 

these intentions still remained unclear in Saigon. General Westmoreland recalled, "Low key still was the watchword." 19 Clearly the 

president had narrowed his strategic options. As George Herring 

observed, at this point, "the options of withdrawal and a massive air 

war against North Vietnam had been firmly rejected .... Although 

the April decisions stopped short of the commitment urged by the 

military, it ... marked a major step toward a large-scale involvement 

in the ground war. n20 

The third decision for war was made in Honolulu by the Secretary of Defense, RobertS. McNamara. Shortly after the NSAM 328 

decision in which the president had taken the extraordinary steps to 

"minimize any appearances of sudden change in policy," military 

planners from Saigon, Hawaii, and Washington met in Honolulu to 

hash out the steps necessary to comply with not only the actual 

decision but also to anticipate any further force requirements. They 

had to deal with the expanding mission assigned to Army and 

Marine ground combat battalions which went beyond simple enclave 

security, namely the identification, deployment, and disposition of 

additional logistical units approved by the president and a definition 

of strategy for the employment of American ground combat units. In 

late April, they were joined by Secretary McNamara, his assistant, 

John McNaughton, Assistant Secretary of State William Bundy, 

Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff General Earl Wheeler, Commander in Chief, Pacific, Admiral U.S.G. Sharp, along with General 

Westmoreland and Ambassador Taylor. 

During this review, the president's advisers moved towards more 

clear delineation of a strategy for the expanding ground war in the 

South, as their report to the president indicated. They believed that 

the Viet Gong and North Vietnamese would not "capitulate, or come 

to a position acceptable to us, in less than six months." They suggested that "it will take more than six months, perhaps a year or two, 

to demonstrate VC failure in the South." With respect to ROLLING 
EIGHT DECISIONS FOR WAR 71 

THUNDER, they stated "that the strike program is essential to our 

campaign-but it cannot be expected to do the job alone." And they 

suggested "a strategy for 'victory,' over time, ... to break the will of 

the DRV /VC by denying them victory," while cautioning about "the 

critical" importance of holding on and avoiding ... a spectacular 

defeat ofGVN or US forces." To carry this out, they recommended 

the deployment of 30,000 U.S. troops- nine additional combat battalions plus logistical troops already approved-bringing the total 

number of combat .battalions in Vietnam to thirteen and raising the 

total troop strength to 82,000. They further suggested consideration 

be given to future deployment of an Army airmobile division to the 

Pleiku/ Kontum area, an Army corps headquarters to Nha Trang, 

and three more Marine battalions to Da Nang.21 

The decision by the key advisers to make this recommendation to 

President J ohnson was significant for several reasons. It signaled a 

shift in the application of American military force from air power in 

the North to ground power in the South, though it avoided the 

question of how this was to be applied. It painted a dismal picture 

for any speedy resolution initially by suggesting at least six months 

and then cautiously revising that figure upwards to "a year or two" 

while warning of the impact of "a spectacular defeat. " It offered "a 

strategy"-to win by denying victory. This was, in reality, more of a 

concept to ward off defeat, what one American commander in Vietnam would later describe as "trying to win a football game on your 

side of the 50 yard line. "22 And it discussed further deployments 

largely in terms of pure numbers of maneuver battalions and of 

dispositions in enclaves or bases. It was thus a plan based on numbers and locations, not missions or goals. By accepting such rationale 

from his planners and then passing it along as a recommendation to 

the president, McNamara established a dangerous precedent-recommendations based on quantitative factors rather than deductive 

reasoning. 

The fourth decision came quickly when PresidentJohnson chose 

to postpone a reaction to this recommendation for an expanded 

ground war in the South to try another tack, a bombing halt. He did 

so on his own in early May 1965. Though he later implied consultation among and agreement by his advisers, the available records do 

not bear this out. 23 Perhaps because he restricted knowledge of his 

decision to so few, it never had time to gain active support. Or 

perhaps because his decision was tied to Project MAYFLOWER, a 

top secret sounding out of Hanoi's intentions conducted in Moscow, 
72 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

it never really had a chance.24 Regardless, Johnson's bombing halt 

decision was unsuccessful and only served to convince him of North 

Vietnamese intractability on peace negotiations. As he later noted, 

"Once again we had tried to open the door; once again Hanoi had 

slammed it shut."25 

In restrospect, the president may not have given the North Vietnamese enough time to respond to the bombing halt. George Ball 

later called the pause, "a hiccup. "26 Certainly the president's chosen 

route of communication through Moscow was tenuous at best, given 

Russian-Chinese tensions. But his own perceptions of the decision 

were clear. To the president, the North Vietnamese were not interested in the peace table. He had tested the option of peace negotiations and found it wanting. He now turned to his only remaining 

option, increased American ground combat power in the South. 

The fifth decision for war came in late July 1965, one that George 

Herring has called "the closest thing to a formal decision for war in 

Vietnam."27 The internal debate leading to PresidentJohnson's decision of28July 1965 to deploy the lst Cavalry Division {Airmobile) 

plus other support troops to Vietnam has been extensively studied, 

thanks to The Pentagon Papers and a remarkable collection of National 

Security Council papers entitled "Troop Deployment ofU .S. Forces" 

at the Johnson Library.28 For this analysis, only a few comments are 

important. TheJuly decision was based upon recommendations submitted to the president by McNamara after the Honolulu meetings 

of late April 1965 and, even more important, upon a new estimate 

submitted by General Westmoreland which dramatically revised upwards his March 1965 requirements for American ground forces 

because of declining South Vietnamese battlefield strength. He now 

concluded that "the South Vietnamese Armed Forces cannot stand 

up to [North Vietnamese reinforcements and a Viet Cong offensive] ... without substantial U.S. combat support on the ground."29 

This report played to McNamara's earlier warning about a 

"spectacular defeat." Despite George Ball's protestation, the option 

of withdrawal was not seriously considered. The sheer inertia created 

by the earlier decisions proved overwhelming. 

The July decisions to increase troop deployments were keyed to 

the numbers recommended by McNamara in April. In the midst of 

the July debates, the president had sent McNamara to Vietnam for 

a final assessment. The secretary of defense had wired Westmoreland 

before his arrival that he wanted his "recommendations for forces to 

year's end and beyond," thus indicating that Washington's interest 
EIGHT DECISIONS FOR WAR 73 

now went beyond 1965.30 Westmoreland did just that, expanding his 

earlier March request, though, as he later candidly admitted, "it was 

virtually impossible to provide the Secretary with a meaningful figure."31 

The significance of the July decisions was vast. The massive 

application of American ground combat power was now the key. 

ROLLING THUNDER, though strengthened, became secondary. 

Secondly, with the exception of calling up the reserves, President 

Johnson accepted McNamara's recommendations of quantitative 

numbers rather than military strategy. Thus the decision for war was 

based upon numbers, not strategy. As the senior MACV planner 

later observed, "the history of the buildup shows that each decision 

was made in Washington, not on the premise of some very persuasive 

message or analysis that anyone made but almost everytime something bad happened, we'd get more troops."32 The fifth decision for 

war thus was a presidential one made in Washington with his supporting cast playing to the established theme.33 

III 

Almost without exception, those studying the decisions for war in 

1965 have centered their analyses upon the 28 July 1965 decision, 

using the president's press announcement as a benchmark and then 

focusing upon the internal debate leading to that decision. 34 By 

concentrating on the substance of these debates and viewing the 

decision as the final step in American involvement, they have overlooked two unresolved issues- the strategy for the ground war and 

the future role to be played by Washington. Answers to these vital 

questions came in three decisions made during the next six months. 

A reason that historians have not studied the post-July period 

closely is because the president appeared to turn his attention away 

from the conflict to other matters of state. As American troops began 

to arrive in Vietnam, the president began to receive optimistic 

weekly assessments from his new envoy to Saigon, Henry Cabot 

Lodge. Indeed, by late August, McGeorge Bundy was summarizing 

these for Johnson as "things go well in Vietnam (and] ... this thing 

may end without formal negotiations. "35 

General Westmoreland felt otherwise. Lacking plans to accommodate and employ the ground troops that had begun to arrive, he 
74 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

now turned his attention to military strategy. For McNamara's july 

visit, he had formulated a three-phased "concept of operations": 

Phase One, '"to halt the losing trend' by the end of 1965"; Phase 

Two, "During the first half of 1966 to take the offensive with American and Allied forces in 'high priority areas"'; and Phase Three, to 

defeat the enemy and destroy his base areas "during a period of a 

year to a year and a half following Phase Two. "36 This was not a 

strategy, but rather a series of goals. More significantly, these goals 

mirrored the vague outline of strategy contained in the two-year 

timetable discussed by McNamara and then proposed to the president after the Honolulu Conference of Apri11965. Within the context 

of the subtle shift from how to stop losing the war to how to win it 

and in emphasis from convincing the North Vietnamese to withdraw 

support to defeating the enemy in detail, Westmoreland's planners 

quickly realized that an enclave strategy would not suffice. American 

troops would have to engage and defeat the enemy, a force that now 

included regular North Vietnamese troops. 37 

In a series of conferences during the fall of 1965 held in Honolulu, 

planners from Washington, Hawaii, and Saigon quickly realized the 

significance of the president's decision not to mobilize the reserves. 

Likewise, they saw that the 175,000 troop strength approved by the 

president did not accurately reflect logistical requirements. By October, they had concluded that "logistical support would become submarginal and sustained combat operations could not be conducted."38 The original 175,000 figure was based upon a defensive 

enclave strategy by U.S. ground troops, and Westmoreland's strategy now envisioned offensive action by U.S. ground troops against 

the enemy, thus requiring additional combat forces.39 To make 

things worse, General Westmoreland reported in November to 

Washington that "the VC/ PAVN buildup rate is predicted to be 

double that of the U.S. forces" and now requested 48,000 more 

troops just to prevent further regression.40 

McNamara again hurried off to Saigon, having earlier alerted the 

president to Westmoreland's increased requests for U.S. ground 

troops and suggesting that "no announcement be made this time of 

the decision. "41 After talks with MACV officials, the secretary of 

defense recommended to the president additional troop deployments, raising the total number of maneuver battalions to seventyfour and overall troop strength to 400,000 by the end of 1966. He 

warned of the possible requests for an additional 200,000 in 1967.42 
EIGHT DECISIONS FOR WAR 75 

This recommendation by McNamara, the sixth decision for war, 

followed the pattern that he had established in his April recommendations, offraming requests for more U.S. combat troops in terms of 

absolute numbers rather than strategic goals and justifying this by 

dismal projections for a prolonged war received from Vietnam. We 

have no evidence to date as to what the president's reaction at the 

time was; neither does the president provide any insight in his own 

memoirs.43 However, we do know that CIA assessments for the 

president on the enemy buildup confirmed the gloomy MACV 

views.44 He apparently decided not to act on the recommendations 

at the time, perhaps to retain flexibility. As with his earlier "nondecision," this merely encouraged his planners to continue their 

charted course. 

A plausible reason for this was the seventh decision for war, the 

presidential determination to try another bombing pause in hopes of 

inhiating peace negotiations. There had been another secret attempt, 

this time in Paris, but that had again failed.45 In his memoirs, J ohnson credits the idea for the pause to McNamara in the context of his 

recommendations for additional troop deployments. The president's 

own recollection was "one of deep skepticism. " 46 However, available 

sources indicated that this had been an active consideration at the 

presidential level since early fal1.47 Regardless of whose idea it was or 

when the president decided to try another bombing pause, it was an 

important decision. Unlike his May decision for a bombing pause, 

this was widely known by his advisers.48 His obj ectives were openly 

advertised throughout the world by presidential envoys. And Hanoi 

was given ample time to respond. In the midst of this, there was 

another secretive peace contact, this time in Rangoon, which again 

failed and only again emphasized the countries' differences.49 

Pressure from his senior military advisers to call off the pause 

grew, and on 31 J anuary l966Johnson decided to resume bombing 

of North Vietnam. 50 The lessons of this bombing pause decision were 

important. The president had once again tested the prospects for 

negotiations and, in his own words, "the net result ... was zero, 

indeed less than zero because the enemy used the pause to strengthen 

his position. "51 CIA intelligence confirmed that the enemy had used 

the period to improve its own military posture in the South. 52 And in 

Saigon , where opinion had always been strongly opposed to the 

bombing pause, its end reemphasized the importance of the ground 

war. As one senior MACV planner later put it, "after the bombing 

pause failed , there was no doubt in our minds that we had to stick it 
76 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

to the VC and North Vietnamese. This was out and out war!"53 The 

«nose of the camel" that first appeared in March, grew to a neck in 

May, showed its first hump in July, and was fully in the tent by early 

1966. It was now a question of what to do with the beast before he 

k~o ked the tent down. 

The eighth and final decision for war followed swiftly-the decision for a summit meeting at Honolulu in early February 1966. The 

president followed another hunch and gave little advance warning to 

participants including his major advisers. General Westmoreland's 

diary for the month of January makes no mention of any MACV 

preparations.54 He recalled only being prepared to present further 

troop deployment recommendations.55 According to one NSC 

staffer, the president thought "that he'd been led down the garden 

path by doves on the bombing pause. Then he dreamed up the 

Honolulu Conference."56 

Presidential personal disappointment over the bombing pause 

was not the only reason for the Honolulu Conference. In his State of 

the Union address on 12January 1966, he had dwelt heavily on what 

he dubbed, "the other war," the South Vietnamese pacification program. He had sent the director of AID, David Bell, to Vietnam in 

early January, and Bell's report called for new high priority to this 

effort. Secretary of State Dean Rusk had visited Vietnam in midJanuary and also returned recommending increased emphasis to the 

nonmilitary aspects of the war. Simultaneously with the decision to 

resume bombing, White House Adviser Jack Valenti suggested a trip 

to Honolulu to meet with Vietnamese leaders and General Westmoreland and to emphasize the political, economk, and social problems of the war. 57 

Johnson announced his decision for the conference on 4 February. The Saigon leaders agreed to the meeting on the 5th. The next 

day, the 6th, the conference began. Given the lack of lead time, 

participants had no time to prepare well-formulated positions. According to one observer, "the president used the technique of listening very long and hard."58 But the emphasis of the meeting clearly 

was on this new dimension, the "other war." At the final session, the 

subject of military coordination arose. He frankly stated, " I want to 

put it off as long as I can, having to make these crucial decisions. "59 

The decisions made at Honolulu proved important ones to the 

future conduct of the war. The president confirmed support of the 

South Vietnamese government, though it was chafing from internal 

dissent and under attack from abroad. He broadened American 
EIGHT DECISIONS FOR WAR 77 

involvement in the war now to include social, economic, and political 

goals. He avoided coordination of military strategic goals with goals 

of the "other war" and passed on the question of further troop deployments. Thus he continued the strategy of mere numbers and 

vague objectives. 

In this vacuum, some military guidance was forthcoming at Honolulu, in the form of a memorandum from McNamara and Rusk to 

Westmoreland. But even here strategy was defined in terms of goals: 

percentage goals in denying enemy base areas and percentage goals 

in securing populated areas, high-priority pacification areas. Military operations were to destroy enemy forces at a rate higher than 

enemy input.60 

The final decision for war in February 1966 did several things. In 

both Washington and Saigon, it legitimized the concept of pacification as a major objective of American participation in the war, but 

with little forethought that would come back to haunt many. It 

continued to define military strategy in terms of quantified goals, not 

the result of detailed analysis, again a nightmare for the future. And 

lastly, it confirmed the trend of decisions since J anuary of the previous year, that they were made by the president himself in lonely style 

and with lofty goals. In the end, this would humble the man. 

IV 

From an analytical perspective, these eight decisions for war 

indicate several very obvious points with respect to the future conduct of the war. Six of the eight were made in Washington and by the 

president, a trend that was to continue throughout the war. In each 

decision, the employment of American ground combat power was 

important. Sometimes this was only implicit, as during the bombing 

pauses where the viability of air power to force peace negotiations 

was being tested; yet the next option of escalation of the ground war 

was always an unmentioned component of the overall package. At 

other times, the role of American ground forces was more explicit, as 

with the decisions recommending or approving troop deployments 

where the clear message was the increased application of American 

ground power. 
78 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYM POSI UM 

A trend was established by these decisions resulting in the per· 

ception, at least from Washington, that the best solution of the Viet· 

nam problem was escalation of the ground war through the use of 

American ground combat troops. The decisions for the increased use 

of American ground power were made in the context of "the more, 

the better," and one that featured very little backward introspection. 

Curiously, presidential advisers and military planners never seemed 

to be aware of their steps towards war. Rather they operated with an 

almost Whiggish view of history, having little doubts about the in· 

evitable victory. The question never seemed to be whether or not 

there would be success, but rather how this success could be 

achieved. In the end, the "how" was left largely to military planners 

in Saigon. At first it was how to stop losing; then it was how to start 

winning. 

All eight decisions viewed within an overall context indicate a 

lack of strong direction from the national level in the search for the 

"how" and a viable strategy. The president gave little help here by 

constantly testing air power to force negotiations. McNamara and 

other top aides could only offer a strategy "to deny victory." West· 

moreland and his MACV planners devised some time-phased goals. 

In reality what emerged was the methodical provision of facts and 

statistics from Vietnam to support concepts and plans from Washington. Thus the decisions really had no relation to a strategy. 

Col. Harry Summers in his book, On Strategy: The Vietnam War in 

Context, has criticized the military for not having a viable strategy.61 

Indeed it would appear that this view may have a wider application. 

A precise strategy was never developed in Washington largely because the president sought flexibility. He thus sacrificed precision. 

In addition, presidential desire for flexibility led him to postpone 

decisions. Recommendations from his subordinates-which, after 

all, are decisions at that level-for troop deployment in April and 

during fall of 1965 became decisions by default. In both instances, 

the president did not act for a substantive period of time, and the 

military planners continued to operate on their own premise, the 

necessity for American escalation of the ground war. General 

Johnson's visit to Saigon in March and Secretary McNamara's openended request to General Westmoreland in July encouraged this 

attitude. Never once did the president indicate that this premise was 

wrong. He again sacrificed precision. 

Rigor was also sacrificed. Sadly lacking in all eight major decisions was any substantive consideration in Washington, Hawaii, or 
EIGHT DECISIONS FOR WAR 79 

Saigon of other strategies, withdrawal or "status quo." George Ball's 

protestations at the presidential level reflect only a "devil's advocate" 

role at best and a "court jester" function at worst. The compelling 

reason against withdrawal cited in Washington was the internal 

consequences for the United States of a possible defeat of South 

Vietnam. Neither did that other option of "status quo"-holding 

what you've got and doing the best you can-get much of an airing 

in Washington. There is some evidence that this course of action was 

considered by military planners during routine staff procedures and 

actually suggested by Ambassador Taylor. Still neither option got its 

fair day in court. Though there clearly were strategic doubts by 

many, to include the senior leadership in Vietnam, the alternatives 

never seemed to reach the top.62 In the absence of viable strategic 

options, the eight decisions made in 1965 and 1966 established a 

trend that would not be altered until the rejection of General 

Westmoreland's request for additional troops after Tet 1968. 

The decisions for war in this period were lonely ones made by one 

man, the president. Some of his closest advisers have sought to 

temper this judgment citing their own poor advice. U. Alexis 

Johnson said in 1969 that " I don't think we served the President 

well," while NSC staffer Benjamin Read observed in the same year 

that "I don't recall any profound prophecies on the part of the 

military or civilian advisers ... No one was looking ahead much 

beyond the end of their own noses."63 But this was by conscious 

personal design. Much like his admired predecessor, Franklin D. 

Roosevelt, Lyndon B. Johnson constructed a bureaucratic advisory 

system that gave him the information that he wanted to hear, that 

substantiated his own inclinations. At times, he relied upon his National Security Council system for advice or approval, as in February 

and July 1965. But he was not above acting purely on his own 

hunches as he demonstrated in May 1965 and February 1966. At 

other times, he would solicit recommendations and then leave them 

in abeyance as in April and September-November. One can only 

conclude that he doubted not only his own direction, but also that of 

his advisers. Perhaps symbolically, his National Security Adviser, 

McGeorge Bundy, resigned shortly after the Honolulu Conference, 

but his strength lay in distilling recommendations, not in making 

them.64 The real role of his secretary of defense is still not clear 

because of his refusal to discuss in any substance Vietnam decisions. 

Much like another predecessor, Harry Truman, Johnson was forced 

on the presidential scene with little background in foreign or military 
80 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

affairs. He felt ill at ease among the Foggy Bottom elites and the 

Pentagon professionals. Consequently, he turned to himselffor counsel, often sending misleading and probably unintended signals to his 

advisers. 

In summary, the cumulative effect of these eight decisions was an 

open-ended commitment of American ground troops to an escalating 

war in Vietnam, with goals defined in quantitative terms rather than 

strategic intents. These decisions were made in Washington with 

little or no thought to an overall strategy, thus ceding that initiative 

to Saigon. They were made in quantitative terms and often based 

upon personal hunches, thus depreciating the value of judicious 

study. And they were made by one man whose own domestic priorities altered his own perceptions, thus skewing objective decision 

making. They set dangerous precedents for the future conduct of the 

war. 

NOTES 

I am indebted to my colleagues at the U.S. Army Center of Military History for 

their helpful comments and suggestions, particularly Vincent H. Demma, Jr., 

Robert L. Frank, Robert K. Griffith, Jr., and Morris J. MacGregor, Jr. The views 

expressed in this paper are mine alone, however, and do not reflect the official policy 

or position of the Department of Defense!, the Department of the Army, the U.S. 

Army Center of Military History, or any other U.S. government department or 

agency. 

I. Command History, U.S. Military Assistance Command (hereafter cited as 

MACV Command History), 1965, pp. 28-57, U.S. Army Center of Military History 

(hereafter CMH) files, Washington, D.C. 

2. Ibid., 1966, pp. 65-66, CMH files. 

3. See NSAM 314, 10 Sep 64, in Gareth Porter, ed., Vietnam: Tlu Definitive Docummtation of Human Duisionr, vol. 2 (Stanfordville, N.Y.: Earl M. Coleman, 1979), 

p. 320; and "Evolutions of the War: Military Pressure Against North Vietnam, 

November-December 1964," U.S. Congress, Committee on Armed Services, United 

States-Vietnam Relationr, 1945-1967, 12 vols. (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1971), vol. 3, pt. IV.C.2.(c). 

4. William C. Westmoreland, A Soldier Reports (Garden City: Doubleday, 1976), 

pp. 11 3-14. 

5. Memorandum for the President, 7 Feb 65, in Porter, Vietnam Documents, pp. 

34!f-57. 
EIGHT DECISIONS FOR WAR 81 

6. See "Evolution of the War: The Rolling Thunder Begins," and "Evolution of 

the War: Marine Combat Units Go to Da Nang," in U.S.- Vietnam Relations, vol. 3, 

pts. IV.C.3 and IV.C.4, pp. 349-57. 

7. Jack Shulimson and Charles M.Johnson, U.S. Marines in Vietnam: T1u Landing 

and the Buildup, 1965 (Washington: HQ, USMC, 1978), pp. 3-15. 

8. U. Alexis johnson later recalled, "We, at the time, were not contemplating any 

massive introduction of American forces. And frankly, that grew somewhat like 

Topsy." U. Alexis johnson Oral History, Lyndon Baines johnson Library (hereafter 

LBJL) Austin, Texas. 

9. Lyndon Baines johnson, The Vantage Point: PerspectirJtS of the Presidmq, 1963-1969 

(New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1971), p. 121. 

10. George W. Ball, The Past Has Yet Another Pattern (New York: W. W. Norton, 

1982), p. 390. 

II . lnterv, Paul L. Miles with author, 8 Nov 84. 

12. Westmoreland, Soldier Reports, p. 125. 

13. Alexander S. Cochran, Jr., "American Planning for Ground Combat Opera· 

Lions in Vietnam, 1952-1965," Parameters 14, no. 2 (Summer 1984): 63-69. 

14. Leslie H. Gelb and Richard K. Betts, The Irony of Vietnam: The System Worked 

(Washington: Brookings Institution, 1979), p. Il l. 

15. NSAM 328, 6 Apr 65, in Porter, Vietnam Documents, p. 366. 

16. Phase I in the Buildup of U.S. Force: The Debate, March-July 1965," U.S.-

Vietnam Relations, vol. 3, pt. IV.C.5, p. 366. 

17. HQ, USMACV, Commander's Estimate of the Military Situation in South 

Vietnam, 26 Mar 65, CMH files. 

18. Gelb and Betts, Irony of Vietnam, p. 121. 

19. Westmoreland, Soldier Reports, p. 131. 

20. George C. Herring, America's Longest War: The United States and Vietnam, 1950-

1975 (New York: J ohn Wiley & Sons, 1979), pp. 132-33. 

21. Memorandum for the President, 21 Apr65, #> 108d, box 4, Memorandums for 

the President (hereafter MFP}, Aides file, National Security file {hereafter NSF), 

LBJL. 

22. lnterv, author with Harry 0. Kinnard, 14 Mar 84, CMH files. 

23. Personal for Secretary Rusk, Secretary McNamara, Admiral Raborn, Assistant Secretary William Bundy, II May 65, box 3, MFP, Ai\Jes file, NSF, LBJL. 

24. George C. Herring, ed., T1u Secret Diplomacy of the Vietnam War: T1u Negotiating 

Volume of the Pentagon Papers (Austin: University ofTexas Press, 1983), pp. 49-73; and 

Wallace J. Thies, When Governments Collide: Coercion and Diplomacy in the Vietnam 

Conflict, 1964-1968 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980), pp. 94-100. 

25. Johnson, Vantage Point, p. 137. 

26. Ball, Past, p. 404. 

27. Herring, America's Longest War, p. 142. 

28. Deployment of Major U.S. Forces to Vietnam, jut 65, National Security 

Council Histories, NSF, LBJ L. The best treatment of this debate is Larry Berman, 

Planning a Tragedy: The Americani.tation of the War in Vietnam (New York: W. W. 

Norton, 1982), which is based extensively on the cited NSC history. 

29. Westmoreland to Sharp, 14 Jun 64, in Porter, Vietnam Documents, pp. 378-82. 

30. Sec Defto Am Emb, Saigon, Deftel5319, 7 Jul65, NSF, LBJ L. 

31. Westmoreland, Soldier Reports, p. 142. 

32. General William E. DePuy Oral History, p. V-19, U.S. Army Military His· 

tory Institute, Carlisle Barracks, Pennsylvania. 
82 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

33. Recent research at the U.S. Army Center of Military History on the July 

deployment decision has revealed that the president made this decision several 

weeks before announcing it and passed this word to McNamara via Cyrus Vance 

while the secretary of defense was still in Saigon. See CMH files. 

34. See in particular, Herring, America's Longest War, pp. 108-44; Gelb and Betts, 

Irony of Vietnam, pp. 130-43; and Stanley Karnow, Vietnam: A HiJtory (New York: 

Viking, 1983), pp. 422-26. 

35. Reports are found in box 4, MFP, Aides file, NSF, LBJL. Cited memo is 

Mr. President, 31 Aug 65, #6, in ibid. AJso see Mr. President, 15 Sep 65, #53, ibid., 

"Another extraordinary optimistic report from Lodge." 

36. Westmoreland, Soldier Reports, p. 142. 

37. Ibid., pp. 145-55. 

38. MACV Command History, 1965, p. 117. 

39. Ibid., p. 43. 

40. COMUSMACV to CINCPAC, 23 Nov 65, #134, box 24-5, Country file: 

Vietnam, NSF, LBJ L. 

41. Memorandum for the President, 22 Sep 65, #125, NSC Deployment History, 

NSF, LBJL; and Draft Presidential Memorandum, U.S. Ground Strategy and Force 

Developments, 1965-67, 3 Nov 65, U.S.- Vietnam Relations, vol. 5, pt. IV .C.6.(a), p. ii. 

42. Ibid. 

43. Johnson, Vantage Point, pp. 233-34. 

44. See, in particular, Cline to Bundy, 8 Nov 65, US/GVN Air Attacks on North 

Vietnam, and USIB Memorandum, Infiltration and Logistics-South Vietnam, 

28 Oct 65, box 50-51, Country file: Vietnam, NSF, LBJL. 

45. Herring, Secret Diplomacy, pp. 77-115, and Thies, When Governments Collide, 

pp. 100-12. 

46. Johnson, Vantage Point, pp. 233-34. 

47. See Memorandum for the President, 4 Aug 65, #86, and Mr. President, 

Sep 65, #90, box 4, MFP, Aides file, LBJL. See also Cabinet Room, 21 Dec 65, 

President, Rusk, McNamara, BaJI, A. Johnson, Bundy, Valenti, President's Meeting 

Notes file (hereafter PMNF), Papers of Lyndon B. J ohnson (hereafter PLBJ), LBJL. 

48. See Memorandum for the President, Once More on the Pause, 27 Nov 65; 

Memorandum to the President, Pros and Cons of the Pause, 4 Dec 65; Memorandum ofTelephone Conversations with Members of the Congress Relating to South 

Vietnam, 9 Dec 65; and Memorandum to the President, Further Notes on Bombing 

the North, 27 Dec 65, box 5, PMNF, PLBJ, LBJL. 

49. Herring, Secret Diplomtu:y, pp. 120-58, and Thies, Wizen Governments Collitk, 

pp. 112-22. 

50. Meeting in Cabinet Room, 24 Jan 66, President, Rusk, McNamara, Bundy, 

Taylor, Valenti; Meeting in Cabinet Room, 25Jan 66, sub: Resumption of Bombing; 

Meeting in Cabinet Room, 26 Jan 66, sub: Resumption of Bombing; Meeting in 

Cabinet Room, 27 Jan 66, sub: Resumption of Bombing; Meeting in Cabinet Room, 

28 J an 66, sub: Resumption of Bombing; Meeting in President's Office, 29 Jan 66; 

and Meeting ofNational Security Council, 30Jan 66, PMNF, PLBJ, LBJL. 

51. Johnson, Vantage Point, p. 24. 

52. Hanoi's Reaction to the Bombing Lull, 18Jan 66, and Evidence ofContinuing 

Vietnamese Communist War Preparations, 24 Jan 66, box 50-51, Country file: 

Vietnam, NSF, LBJL. 

53. USARV Oral History Project, lnterv 372, CMH files. 

54. William C. Westmoreland, #3 History file, 20 Dec 65-29 Jan 66, CMH 

114-82, Public Document, CMH files. 

55. Westmoreland, Soldier Reports, p. 159. 

56. Chester L. Cooper Oral History, LBJL. 
EIGHT DECISIONS FOR WAR 83 

57. Marshall Wright and Dolf M. Droge, Presidential Decisions: The Honolulu 

Conference, February 6-8, 1966, Honolulu Conference, box 44, vol. l, NSC History, 

NSF, LBJL. 

58. Ibid., p. 19. 

59. Ibid., p. 26. 

60. Westmoreland, Soldier Reports, pp. 16~1. 

61. Harry G. Summers, Jr., On Strategy: The Vietnam War in Context (Carlisle 

Barracks, P.A.: U.S. Army War College, 1981). 

62. Douglas Kinnard, The War Managers (Hanover: University Press of New 

England, 1977). 

63. U. Alexis johnson Oral History and Benjamin H. Read Oral History, LBJL. 

64. Aides file, NSF, LBJL. 

Commentary 

Walter LaFeber 

These three papers, all interesting and provocative, complement 

one another in that the Herring and Parmet analyses provide the 

historical background for Dr. Cochran's concise examination of the 

1965-1966 decision making. All tend toward a "rational actor" view 

of that decision making; that is, the focus is on the president and his 

immediate advisers. J ohn Foster Dulles plays a pivotal role in the 

mid-1950s, Dean Rusk a less important role a decade later perhaps 

because of his own personality, perhaps because of the way different 

presidents use different secretaries of state, perhaps because of the 

post-1961 change in the working of the National Security Council 

apparatus. In that regard, little attention is given to the military or 

civilian policy debates that percolated up from the bureaucracy and 

shaped the alternatives from which the president chose. 

Dr. Cochran goes the fart}lest in elaborating a rational actor 

model by noting that six of the eight key decisions discussed in the 

paper "were made in Washington and by the president, a trend that 

was to continue throughout the war." His paper goes on to make the 

interesting point that like "his admired predecessor, Franklin D. 

Roosevelt, Lyndon B. J ohnson constructed a bureaucratic advisory 

system that gave him the information he wanted to hear, that substantiated his own inclinations." In this sense, Dr. Cochran suggests 

that the system did not really work because the president would not 

allow it to work properly. George Ball was tolerated after February 1965, but there was no dissent where it really counted: at the top 

of the Pentagon and the president's immediate White House circle. 

A focus on the bureaucratic engine room that moved the policy 

along in the Eisenhower, Kennedy, and especially Johnson administrations is absent from these papers, perhaps necessarily so given 

their brevity. Such an analysis will have to be a complex, detailed 

discussion, to say the least, and ~ the most interesting part of that 

85 
86 SECOND INDOCHI NA WAR SYMPOSI UM 

story-the debate within the Pentagon and between the Pentagon, 

the NSC, and the military in Vietnam-may well become one of the 

most important contributions made by the U.S. Army in Vietnam 

series. When we can concentrate on understanding that story we 

shall probably modify our present attention on presidential decision 

ma king and debate whether he was not as much the captive as the 

captor of his own civilian bureaucracy, especially after February 1965. 

This important bureaucratic dimension of the debate should be 

emphasized, however, only with the further hope that when such an 

analysis occurs it will not become so bogged down by an infatuation 

with tracing out labyrinthine organizational byways-an infatuation 

not unknown in parts of academe--that the larger policy map, the 

broad boundaries within which the debate had to be waged, is lost. 

In this regard all three papers begin to raise fundamental questions 

about the contradictions in American policy as early as 1953-1954 

that become millstones around the policy a decade later. The 

Herring paper is outspoken in this regard: The Geneva Conference 

of 1954 did not so much clarify or, certainly, lessen the contradictions 

in U.S. policy as sharpen and worsen the contradictions until, like a 

broken compass, they led the United States into the policy quagmire 

of the mid-l960s. If the Herring-Parmet arguments are correct, then 

no "viable strategy," to use Dr. Cochran's term, was possible except 

possibly one of withdrawal. If the first two papers are accurate, and 

if their implications are correctly understood, then we must rephrase 

Dr. Cochran's central conclusion that the "presidential desire for 

flexibility led him to postpone decisions," to the conclusion that any 

postponement of decisions was due to the administration's understandable inability to reconcile the irreconcilable--to impose a supposedly responsible government on South Vietnam, to base policy in 

part on supposed representative elections in a situation where only 

"demonstration elections" were possible, to be more nationalistic 

than the North Vietnamese themselves, to remedy the problem of 

French colonialism by simply having Americans replace the French, 

to resolve Chinese involvement by not dealing politically or militarily 

with the Chinese. It all resembled Franklin D. Roosevelt's continual 

postponement of political decisions during World War II when he 

could not reconcile his own objectives with Stalin's in Europe. Unable to reconcile opposites, FDR stalled, then lost. Why U.S. officials 

made this mistake on the most fundamental of policy decisions twice 

in one generation probably has something to do with the officials' 
COMMENTARY 87 

optimistic belief in the power of the American example and the 

example of American power. John F. Kennedy, according to Dr. 

Parmet's quote from Theodore Sorensen's oral history interview, was 

no exception, despite the often-told story of how Kennedy planned to 

pull out of Vietnam after the 1964 elections. The Herring paper notes 

how some observers even saw a "'silver lining' amidst the dark 

clouds" of the Geneva settlement. Those observers, indeed the entire 

Vietnam experience until 1968, give point to a European's sardonic 

comment during these years that "in the long dark night of the 

American soul, it is always 7:00 in the morning." Since 1968 such 

remarks have been heard less frequently. 

When the contradictions in U.S. policy are examined, when we 

change our search from a hunt for the reasons why an appropriate 

strategy was not devised to a hunt for the reasons why devising an 

appropriate strategy was so difficult, we shall probably begin to 

understand the problem, and will do so especially as we enlarge the 

context of our analysis. Such an enlargement requires not only going 

more deeply into the bureaucracy, but more broadly into the larger 

world arena. Two parts of this search in the wider international 

framework are suggested in the papers. 

The first involves an understanding that a major reason for the 

initial United States appearance in Southeast Asia during 1949-1950 

was not merely a concern for bilateral U.S.-Vietnam relations, or 

only a concern for U.S.-French relations, but a regional approach 

that revolved around rebuilding Japan and, particularly, keeping the 

Japanese away from Communist China by keeping Southeast Asia 

open for Japan's interests. Dulles repeatedly placed Vietnam within 

this regional context between 1950 and 1953, and as the Parmet 

paper indicates, the Japan factor in U.S. policy reappeared after 

1953. One contradiction in this approach appeared relatively late--

in 1964-1966, when it became clear that Japan would not go along 

with Washington's requests for increased military aid to Southeast 

Asia, and that Tokyo officials had their own agenda for dealing with 

the region. From the time of that realization in the mid-1960s- and 

it does seem in retrospect that 1965-1966 is a turning point in U.S.-

Japanese postwar relations-the ties between the two countries declined until they reached their nadir in the early 1970s. A policy built 

on a regional approach thus lost its cornerstone, Japan, about the 

time the Johnson administration began its major military escalation. 

A second way to understand the contradictions that made impossible a coherent strategy is to extend the search more fully to the role 
88 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

of China. The PRC naturally appears in these papers when the 

Geneva discussions are analyzed, but it tends to disappear when the 

three papers move into the post-1961 years. It may be, however, that 

Walter Lippmann's description of the Bolshevik specter at Versailles 

in 1919 applies as well to United States policy discussions in the 

1960s: China, like the Bolshevik, "was the huge black cloud that 

overhung every discussion. " The China factor may be a (and perhaps the) major reason why President Johnson failed at this time to 

find a "coherent strategy." As the papers note, the PRC's intervention in Korea was a vivid memory, but in late 1965, just as U.S. 

,officials were making the fifth, sixth, and seventh pivotal decisions 

analyzed in the Cochran paper, the Chinese danger became more 

than just a memory. According to Allen Whiting (who was in 1965-

1966 the director of the Office of Research and Analysis-Far East in 

the State Department's Bureau of Intelligence and Research) the 

PRC began moving 50,000 Chinese troops into North Vietnam in 

September 1965 and completed the operation by the spring of 1966. 

They remained in North Vietnam until Johnson deescalated the 

bombing of the North in March 1968. The only change of any significance in their makeup occurred in 1967 when Johnson stepped up 

bombing on Hanoi and Haiphong; at that point, the number of 

Chinese antiaircraft divisions went up from two to three. The troops 

were moved into the North without public fanfare, but they marched 

using normal communications and wearing regular uniforms; they 

thus, in Whiting's view, greatly increased their credibility with U.S. 

intelligence. The Chinese forces, moreover, actually engaged in combat as they fired on United States planes and kept railroads functioning during bombings. They constructed a large base complex at Yen 

Bai whose purpose could be interpreted in several ways; Whiting and 

apparently other intelligence officers viewed it as a redoubt if the 

United States did invade the North. The Chinese Army was now 

pre-positioned for war, unlike 1950, and, in Whiting's words, "Their 

presence signaled to North Vietnamese and Americans alike a Chinese willingness to suffer casualties and risk retaliation in air attack 

or ground invasion." When Johnson repeatedly asked his advisers 

about possible Chinese response if the United States continued escalating, or when Secretary of Defense McNamara suggested to Senate 

critics that attacks on the Haiphong petroleum dumps could possibly 

"trigger Chinese intervention on the ground," an event "we wish to 

avoid," these officials were discussing restraints on United States 

policy that went beyond domestic politics. 
COMMENTARY 89 

As George Herring's work particularly notes, the China factor 

produced a special irony in American policy. As Dulles, Kennedy, 

and Johnson stressed, a major reason for United States commitment 

to Southeast Asia was to protect the region, especially to use Vietnam 

to contain Communist China. By 1971-1972 the Nixon administration was attempting to use Communist China to contain North Vietnam. The turn in this part of the policy apparently occurred in 1967, 

when, as the president's speech at San Antonio illustrated, the administration began to see that Chinese expansionism was not the 

danger. Another irony also appeared in this context. U.S. officials by 

now understood the extent of the Sino-Soviet break, but that very 

break acted as a restraint on American military policy because, as 

Llewellyn Thompson observed in 1966, if the United States struck 

into the North it might force the Soviets to reassess the break with 

China and move to try to repair the damage. Thompson even suggested that more extensive American bombing of the North might 

lead to such a reassessment. It is not difficult in restrospect to conclude that Thompson's fears were overstated, but it is difficult to 

discount the 50,000 Chinese troops in North Vietnam, the constant 

warnings from Chinese leaders about the dangers of United States 

military escalation in the North, or, overall, the importance of the 

China factor. 

Other restraints also made the formulation of a coherent strategy 

difficult, but they are less important. One of them, the link between 

J ohnson's quest for a Great Society at home and the containment of 

North Vietnam, began to appear in 1964-1965 as the two commitments began a shark-like struggle for the president's attention and 

budget lines. But the interaction played itself out beyond the scope 

of these papers-in 1967- 1968 when resulting economic problems 

and political impact severely limited J ohnson's policy alternatives. 

Historians who attempt to explain the administration's policy between 1964 and 1968 will, in my judgment, have to have as sure a 

grasp of the domestic arena as they do the international. 

Overall these three papers do what they set out to do: provide at 

the start a large canvas so that we can understand the complex 

background--especially the Geneva Conference results--out of 

which the United States commitment in Vietnam emerged, then 

focus in by 1965 on the more precise decisions made by the president 

to escalate the military commitment. The major question is whether, 

if we are to understand that escalation and its denouement, we 
90 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

should not keep the canvas much larger in terms of the bureaucratic 

decision making, regionalism, U .S.-China-Soviet relations, and the 

domestic factors. 
Commentary 

John Lewis Gaddis 

The writing ofhistory proceeds through a series of stages in which, 

as emotions subside, explanations become more elusive. Those who 

wrote about the Vietnam War while it was still going on had little 

difficulty in explaining why we were there, however much they may 

have disagreed with one another: It was, depending upon whom you 

read, to hold back the tide of international communism, maintain the 

credibility of our alliances, and preserve democratic institutions, or, 

alternatively, to defend the outer reaches of an overextended empire, 

safeguard critical raw materials, and provide continued gainful employment for the domestic military-industrial complex. There wasn't 

much ambiguity in these early accounts, but of course there wasn't 

much research either. 

That research is now taking place, but its effect has been to 

qualify-and thus to blur--explanations. We know now, in great 

detail, how we got in, but we are much less clear as to why. Let me 

explain what I mean, using illustrations from the three papers presented here today. Herring argues persuasively that the United 

States failed to learn what it should have learned from the French 

experience in the First Indochina War: that American planners concentrated too much on the weaknesses of the French, and not enough 

upon strengths of the Viet Minh. Parmet, in contrast, documents a 

persistent pessimism on the part of American officials regarding 

Diem's ability to build a viable non-Communist nationalism in the 

South, an interpretation that would appear to indicate an all-toovivid awareness of North Vietnamese capabilities. Cochran's paper 

demonstrates yet a third pattern, in which pessimism regarding 

prospects for success in Vietnam coexisted inexplicably with optimism that a direct and overwhelming American troop commitment 

would solve all problems. There are, in short, no clear and simple 

explanations. 

91 
92 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Obviously we can't go back, now, to the sweeping but simpleminded generalizations that characterized earlier writings on this 

subject, nor should we seek to. But we need to guard as well against 

tthe tendency to lose sight of the larger picture; to become so fascinated by the process by which we became involved with, and fought, 

tthe Vietnam War, that we get out of touch with the larger historical 

framework in which that event took place. That framework can help 

us understand much that is otherwise puzzling about Vietnam; it is 

also essential to our understanding the lasting significance of that 

event. Let me give some examples of what I mean. 

It is often said-indeed Parmet makes the point at the beginning 

of his paper-that Vietnam cannot be understood apart from the 

domestic and international context of the cold war. And yet it seems 

to me that these papers do not do aJI they could to develop that 

context. Take, for instance, the question of who the enemy was in 

Vietnam in the first place--was it international communism? Soviet 

or Chinese expansionism? North Vietnamese hegemonism? The 

papers are no more explicit on this point than policymakers were at 

the time, and yet the issue is of basic importance. How, for example, 

can one account for the persistence of the American commitment in 

I ndochina over a quarter of a century when in fact Washington's 

overall perception of"threats" in Asia changed radically during that 

same period? In 1950, at the time the United States began giving 

military aid to the French in Indochina, belief in the Sino-Soviet 

monolith was alive and well. But surely, by 1960, no informed observer could still accept the view that the Soviet Union controlled all 

Communist movements in that part of the world. And surely, by 

1970, few people could still regard China as the enemy she had once 

appeared to be, or North Vietnam as her subservient and dutiful 

puppet. 

These were fundamental changes in Washington's understanding 

of the relationship between communism and nationalism in Asia, 

and yet, despite them, the proclaimed American interest in Vietnam 

remained unchanged-so much so that one is left with the impression that that interest may in fact have had little to do with perceived 

external threats at all, but rather reflected certain internal insecurities about ourselves. Notable among these was an obsession with 

"credibility": the belief that if we did not regularly and consistently 

demonstrate our willingness to defend even peripheral interests, all 

interests would be disastrously called into question. 
COMMENTARY 93 

We can see, today, how implausible that argument was. We have 

proven ourselves unable to defend interests once considered important, not just in Indochina, but in Afghanistan, Iran, Nicaragua, and 

Lebanon as well. And yet, can it be said today that our influence in 

the world at large is any less than it was, say, in 1965, or 1975, 

especially when balanced off against that of the Soviet Union? Influence in international relations-like success in the game of pokerderives from many things, not least of which is the ability to disengage from untenable positions when the costs of defending them 

exceed their value. Or, to quote Kenny Rogers, "You got to know 

when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em." Historians of the future, 

I suspect, will find in Washington's disregard of this elementary 

principle one of the most revealing explanations of its involvement in 

Indochina. 

This brings me to a second problem of interpretive framework, 

which has to do with the issue of continuity. The papers presented 

here imply a gradual but steadily evolving American commitment in 

Vietnam that extended inexorably from the Truman through the 

J ohnson administrations-the implication is that once we started 

down the slippery slope, total immersion in the Big Muddy was the 

only conceivable outcome. Perhaps so, but I wonder if we shouldn't 

take into account the differences in the approaches of the respective 

administrations involved, and the possibility that these might have 

produced different outcomes. 

The Truman administration, for example, viewed the Indochina 

question as much in European as in Asian terms: The original decision to send economic and military aid in the spring of 1950 was a 

departure from the administration's overall strategy of disengagement from the Asian mainland, and was made in large part to take 

pressure off the French so that they could play a more substantial 

role in NATO. Korea, of course, changed that set of priorities, but 

this ought not to obscure the possibility that if Indochina had been 

an independent state instead of a French colony, the initial American 

commitment there might never have been made. 

The Eisenhower administration, conversely, was only too eager 

to ease the French out and to build an anti-Communist nationalist 

regime in the South, but it is important to note as well the limits of 

its involvement. We still do not know, as Herring and Parmet point 

out, how serious Eisenhower really was about the possibility of 

American military intervention in Indochina in 1954. But one thing 

we do know is that the president adamantly and consistently rejected 
94 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

the idea of committing ground forces under the constraints that had 

obtained in Korea and that would again a decade hence under Johnson in Vietnam. There was no more important principle of strategy, 

for Eisenhower, than retention of the initiative-the ability to control 

the circumstances, nature, and duration of one's military efforts. The 

Truman limited war strategy in Korea, he believed, had unwisely left 

these decisions to the other side; that he himself made no such 

military commitment in Vietnam, it seems to me, was no accident. 

Kennedy, in contrast, regarded the limited use of military 

power-especially unconventional military power-as an integral 

part of his "flexible response" strategy, and clearly welcomed the 

opportunity to demonstrate it in Indochina. He was far more optimistic than Eisenhower about the possibility of using the military as 

a precisely calibrated and keenly responsive instrument of national 

policy; he was also less concerned about the danger that such gradualism might relinquish the initiative to the other side. Whether 

Kennedy would have shifted from the advisory to the actual use of 

military force is, of course, impossible to say. What we can say is that 

there was nothing in the "flexible response" strategy to preclude that 

possibility. 

Johnson, too, believed in the limited and precisely calibrated use 

of military force. What he lacked was the capacity to monitor performance and to make changes when it became apparent that the existing strategy was not working. The series of decisions Cochran traces 

in his paper documents this pattern all too clearly: The effect of each 

decision was deeper involvement, and yet each was made without 

convincing evidence that it would produce success. Would Kennedy 

have handled things the same way? Perhaps. But the skepticism 

toward military advice he had developed as a result of the Bay ofPigs 

and the Cuban missile crisis, together with his demonstrated willingness to dump Ngo Dinh Diem in 1963, suggests that he might have 

deferred less readily than Johnson to recommendations to "press on" 

once it became apparent that escalation was not producing desired 

results. 

What I'm suggesting, in all of this, is that there were outcroppings and toeholds along the slippery slope that could be grasped to 

retard or to halt one's descent, and that in fact different administrations proceeded down the slope at different rates, and did, at times, 

take advantage of these opportunities to pause along the way. The 

fact that we eventually sank into the morass nonetheless does not 

mean that that outcome was the only possible one. 
COMMENTARY 95 

This brings me to a third and final interpretive point. One critical 

element that helped ro determine each administration's approach to 

rhe Vietnam dilemma was its perception of means available. It obviously makes a difference, in shaping military strategy, if one perceives oneself as operating with limited or unlimited resources. There 

were fundamental differences in the attitudes of postwar adminstrations on this point, and these had important effects in shaping their 

respective strategies in Indochina. 

Both the Truman and the Eisenhower administrations viewed 

their options in Indochina as constrained by limited resources, 

though for different reasons. For Truman, it was the competing 

demands of war in Korea and rearmament in Western Europe; for 

Eisenhower, the belief that the national economy could not support 

indefinite military expenditures at levels necessary to sustain large 

conventional forces. Both administrations, as a result, relied upon 

economic and military assistance to local forces, and upon the deterrent threat of American air and naval power, to achieve their objectives there. Both rejected the more costly option of committing American ground troops. 

The Kennedy and Johnson administrations operated under no 

such constraints. Instead they made a point of proclaiming that the 

world's most powerful nation could easily afford to fight limited wars 

wherever necessary without cutting back on needed social and economic programs at home. There was a sense, as J ohnson put it in 

1964, "that it was not necessary to spare the horses." 

These contrasting perceptions of resources available, it seems to 

me, had two important effects. The framework of stringency within 

which the Truman and the Eisenhower administrations operated 

with respect to Indochina induced a sense of caution and restraint. 

Options for escalation might be considered, or even threatened, but 

they were also critically evaluated and ultimately ruled out in favor 

ofless costly alternatives. The framework of abundance within which 

the Kennedy and Johnson administrations operated produced a 

much less critical attitude toward escalation options. Even more 

important, it provided litde incentive to reconsider ineffective strategies once their deficiencies had become apparent. 

This last point, I think, is worth underlining. Reconsiderations, 

always, are a painful process. We all know the barriers bureaucracies 

are capable of throwing up to discourage them. These barriers are all 

the more formidable when bureaucracies can draw upon essentiaiJy 

unlimited budgets, for then the opportunity exists to implement all 
96 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

options rather than to distinguish the ones likely to work from those 

that are not. Eisenhower understood this clearly enough: There was 

more than just old-fashioned fiscal conservatism in the tight budgetary leash he imposed upon the military. Kennedy and especially 

Johnson imposed no such restraints on the military in Vietnam. The 

idea, as Johnson said many times, was to give General Westmoreland all he needed "to do the job." As a result, the "job"-the 

objective--was never clearly defined in the first place, with results of 

which we are all painfully aware. 
SECTION II 

The Conduct of the War 

Conduct of the Vietnam War: Strategic 

Factors, 1965-1968 

Douglas Pike 

This paper is a reexamination of the early years of "big unit" 

warfare in the Vietnam War, the mid-l960s. 1 It sets down in some 

detail the major military events of the period, adding to the existing 

account that which we have learned in postwar years.2 Primarily it 

concerns itself with what might be called the strategic environment 

of the time. It is not a paper about military strategy as such, although 

it deals with the strategic thinking on both sides and with strategic 

analysis efforts (or lack of them). This is an important subject that 

has received little attention from historians to date. The initial strategic environment-at the onset of deep American involvement in 

Vietnam-shaped and conditioned war planning on both sides 

throughout the remainder of the war and, to a considerable extent, 

dictated its outcome. 3 

Historians love to periodize history, to chop it up into time 

frames. There is always something artificial about attempts to reduce 

the chaos oi history by dividing and confining it, because in truth 

history is a single great river of events. However, periodization does 

contribute to the management of history writing and to making it 

more comprehensible. And unarguably there are landmark moments 

of history that do have seminal quality, later seen as a beginning/end 

and therefore worthy of special attention. The fivefold periodization 

employed here, in keeping with our interest in the strategic environment as viewed by Hanoi, reflects distinguishable changes in the 

basic Hanoi strategy. The five are: Early 1958-late 1960: Incipient 

revolutionary war period (preparatory); 1961-late 1964: Revolutionary guerrilla war period; early 1965-mid-1968: Regular force strategy period; late 1968-Easter 1972: Nco-revolutionary guerrilla war 

period; and summer 1972-end ofwar: High technology regular force 

strategy period.4 

99 
100 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Our primary attention is paid to the third period, the regular 

force strategy period. It is not a time slice of exceptional significance, 

although certainly it was an important link connecting that which 

went before to everything that followed. It begins with the arrival of 

American ground troops in 1965 (the decision for which was taken in 

February 1965) and continues into 1966. It ends with the Communists' 1967-1968 winter-spring campaign. 

The paper is divided into three parts following this introduction. 

First comes an examination of the conflicting strategic perceptions 

that existed early in the war, within each of the two camps and 

between the two camps. While such a survey might seem a digression, it is necessary to set down the variety of strategic concepts 

existing at the time so as to provide a base for the subsequent discussion, indeed even to make what follows intelligible. The second part 

discusses strategic thinking in terms of unfolding events, concentrating on the Communist side. Finally there is a discussion of U.S. 

perspective and the meaning to us in retrospective terms. 

Perceptional Prisons 

The Vietnam War from the earliest days, and increasingly after 

the U.S. fully committed itself to combat, was marked by an astounding range of interpretation of unfolding events and explanation of 

what each side was doing, and why it was doing it. This condition, 

of vast disparity in interpretation, continues to this day in the form 

of newly produced histories of the war. Much of this interpretation 

is permeated by stereotype, factual error, social myth, gross oversimplification, historical fictions, and hyperbolic exaggeration. One root 

cause undoubtedly is the sheer complexity of the war, exacerbated by 

the passions which it generated; another, in no small measure, is the 

debasement oflanguage that characterizes much writing of history in 

the last half of this century. 

Essentially, however, the great variation in interpretation was 

and is the result of differing perspectives held by the participants and 

onlookers. The problem was, and still is, an entrenched condition of 

competing perceptions.5 These existed between the two contending 

camps and within each camp, particularly within the American 

camp. 

During the war neither side perceived the conflict in general or in 

most details as did the other side. Neither viewed the other as it saw 
STRATEGIC FACTORS, 1965- 1968 101 

itself. Neither at the beginning of the war took accurate measure of 

the other. Neither anticipated the other's major moves during the 

struggle or often assessed correctly the other's probable response to 

any given development, proposal, or other stimulus. Neither saw in 

advance the course the war would take, the magnitude it would 

assume, or its duration. Each clung tenaciously to its own orientation, unwilling or unable- even momentarily for the sake of assessment purposes-to alter its view. 

The Vietnam War then was a prison of competing perceptions.6 

That fact, perhaps, is the main heritage of the war for us today. 

These differing perceptions existed simultaneously on several 

levels. First there were the differing perceptions of the nature of the 

war itself- that is, how it was seen in broad overall terms. There 

were three such major perceptions in the early years and they can be 

fairly easily delineated: 

-The war seen as a more or less orthodox limited-scale, smallsize, Korean-type conflict. It was to be fought by the standard application of mass and movement-incremental increases in force with 

firepower being central to all-and adapted as necessary to local 

terrain and conditions. There could be no substitute for victory; 

bomb 'em back to the Stone Age if necessary because once you are 

in a war you either win or lose. 

-The war seen as a revolutionary guerrilla war, meaning it was 

revolutionary and thus broader in scope than ordinary wars (seeking 

fundamental social change for instance); it was conducted by guerrillas, meaning different strategy and tactics employed and an enemy 

of differing mentality than regular military.7 Some held this revolutionary guerrilla war as having a third characteristic, that it was 

imported from North Vietnam (or from China) while others asserted 

it was essentially indigenous. It was a war fought for territory, but 

also for population, for resources, for "hearts and minds," and one 

requiring external support. 

-The war seen as something new in history. Generally termed 

People's War (although it had other names) and described as the 

product of Mao Tse-tung and Vo Nguyen Giap's experience (not 

original with them as much as the refinement and ultimate extension 

of a developmental process that had begun with Napoleon), it erased 

the line between military and civilian, between war and politics, 

between combatant and noncombatant. Its essence was a trinity 

of organization, mobilization, and motivation in the context of 
102 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

protracted conflict. It was not revolutionary in the orthodox sense 

(being a strategy, not an ideology), could be fought with guerrillas or 

a regular army, and, in fact, resembled a small-scale war of maneuver. 

The second cluster of perceptions had to do with the purposes of 

the war. Why was it being fought and what did each side expect to 

get out of it? This is more difficult to delineate because a larger and 

more complex group of perceptions was involved. 

In terms of purpose, the war could be and was perceived on two 

levels. One level was the moral imperative. Both sides (or all sides) 

defined the war in moral terms: 

-To preserve the right of self-determination and to establish the 

freedom of the South Vietnamese people. The war is seen here as a 

contest between the open and the closed society, between freedom 

and tyranny in which the U.S. has an obligation-as part of its 

global interest in and commitment to the cause of individual liberty-to make a contribution. Most in this group agreed that South 

Vietnam was not a democracy bllt argued that if it could remain 

non-Communist and be given peace, a representative government 

might emerge, whereas total loss of personal liberty is certain and 

irreversible when a country goes Communist. This perception was 

held by most South Vietnamese and, at least in the early years, by 

most Americans. 

-To unite North and South Vietnam under the Communist 

banner. For the North Vietnamese and the southern Communists, 

unification was no mere political goal-it was a holy crusade. Indigenous southern Vietnamese within the NLF ranks interpreted unification as a federated arrangement with the North in which the NLF 

would hold a monopoly of political power in the South. Thus they 

perceived the moral purpose of war in terms of justice, economic 

opportunity, absence of foreign influence, and similar values. Some 

in the South and some outsiders (particularly the French) perceived 

Hanoi willing to accept a federated arrangement with the South, but, 

as events proved, for the Northerners unification meant amalgamation. 

Beneath the level of perception of the purposes of the war in 

moral terms was a second level viewing the struggle less abstractly 

and geared to national interests. Here the division between the U.S. 

and Hanoi was fairly stark. The official American perception, shared 

by all administrations from Franklin Roosevelt onwards saw the 

preservation of a non-Communist South Vietnam as important if not 

vital to U.S. interests in the Pacific. This was the realpolitik basis for 
STRATEGIC FACTORS, 1965- 1968 103 

U.S. involvement. Over the years, it was variously perceived as the 

Munich syndrome (stop aggression early or stop it later at a higher 

price); as the lesson learned in the Korean War (discourage Communist piecemeal detachment of free Asia); and still later, as the equilibrium thesis, the so-called ideological balance of power (that an 

equilibrium exists in Asia, that it is in the interest of all that no single 

ideological construct-not capitalism, not socialism, not neutralism-dominate the scene), which largely explains the presence in 

Vietnam of troops from Australia, New Zealand, the Philippines, 

Thailand, and South Korea. The North Vietnamese obviously saw it 

in their national interest that Hanoi control all of Vietnam. 

Depending on one's view of the nature and purposes of the war, 

the course of battle was also perceived variously. One view, apparent 

even in the 1966-1967 period but more prominent later, was the 

perception that the Communist forces could not be militarily defeated in Vietnam-using guerrilla tactics of being everywhere and 

nowhere, they provided few targets for the enemy's vaunted firepower; Communist forces were particularly effective against the 

South Vietnamese armed forces; and when the Communists chose to 

stand and fight, as in the 1968 Tet offensive, they won decisively, as 

Lyndon Johnson acknowledged by in effect resigning his presidency. 

This perception has continued on in a postwar form, which is that in 

a broader sense the war demonstrated the failure of mass weapons 

when ranged against the human spirit. Regardless of the massive 

firepower which the U.S. could muster, in the end it proved ineffective. In any event, the U.S. converted the war into a high-technology 

war (having taught the South Vietnamese to fight a style of combat 

so technically advanced it was beyond their capability) and then 

walked out, unable to guarantee the South Vietnamese defenders 

even adequate future logistical support. 

Standing against this, as the most common competing perception, was the view of overwhelming American military prowess. The 

American armed forces lost no important battles (a record maintained throughout the war). The South Vietnamese Army, after 

training and equipping efforts were completed, was successful in 

suppressing the guerrilla forces, which is the main reason why the 

entire North Vietnamese Army eventually was dispatched to the 

South. The 1968 Tet offensive, whatever it might have done to 

Lyndon Johnson's career, was a major military victory for South 

Vietnam. In the postwar years this perception has said that it is 

inaccurate to portray use of mass weapons and firepower in Vietnam 
104 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

in terms of totality. Use actually was highly restricted, especially in 

North Vietnam, where bombings and air strikes were almost entirely 

confined to the transportation and communication matrix. The one 

test of full use of mass weapons was the so-called 1972 Christmas 

bombing of Hanoi, which almost overnight forced a reversal of the 

Communist position at the Paris talks. Also, it is said that incremental buildup of U.S. force was an error, part of a broader mistake 

which was to try to win a defensive war. Rather the U.S. should have 

struck the North or prepared the South Vietnamese Army to do so. 

Varied perceptions of the course of battle also extended to the 

war's outcome, if it was to be short of outright military victory or 

defeat, that is, some form of negotiated settlement. One prominent 

perception, widespread among influential Americans, was that the 

Communists always wanted and actively sought a negotiated settlement, through peace talks or by other means. Only U.S. and GVN 

intransigence kept the war going. The agreement of 1973 could have 

been reached years earlier. When the peace settlement finally was 

achieved it was at once sabotaged by the South Vietnamese government, aided and abetted by the U.S., all of which is part of the long 

history of negotiations in Indochina. In a similar manner, the 1954 

Geneva Conference worked out a peaceful settlement, only to see it 

destroyed by the South Vietnamese and the Americans. 

The main competing perception was that the Communist objective from the start of the war was unification of Vietnam under its 

banner. The Communists looked on negotiations with the single 

criterion: will it move us closer to unification? A South Vietnam 

which remained independent (or even one run by the Provisional 

Revolutionary Government [PRG]) obviously did not fulfill the objective. Hence, from the Hanoi standpoint there was little to negotiate because what it wanted the other side regarded as total surrender. 

Further, the 1973 Paris Agreement was not. a peace treaty or a 

negotiated settlement, only a cease-fire arrangement and a poor one 

at that, for it left the North Vietnamese Army in the South and called 

for an unworkable power-sharing arrangement among the contending forces. As a matter of record, the 1954 Geneva Conference did not 

produce a master plan for Indochina. It merely extricated the French 

and swept all serious political decisions under the rug, thus becoming 

a major contributor to the subsequent advent of the Vietnam War. 

Finally there were competing perceptions of the other side. Some 

Americans, including a few officials, held the perception of the Vietnamese Communists as basically honorable, uncorrupted, idealistic 
STRATEGIC FACTORS, 1965- 1968 105 

people fighting a just cause. They also were nationalists. They were 

implacable in their devotion, certain of victory because they believed 

they monopolized virtue. In dealing with outsiders, as for example in 

negotiations with the U.S., they were forthright and scrupulous in 

adhering to any agreement reached. They were perhaps authoritarian, but enlightened and seldom bloody handed. Further, they embraced the principle of independence, fighting their own battles, 

self-contained, dependent on no outsiders. 

Standing against this, and more commonly held, was the view 

that the North Vietnamese, in terms of personality and behavior, 

differed little from the South Vietnamese and if they appeared more 

attractive, this was simply ignorance on the part of the viewer. If 

their performance was more determined, it was because they were 

better mobilized. Corruption in the North was only of a different kind 

which did not make Northerners more virtuous. Dealing with the 

U.S., they often lied or dissembled. In fact, the history of the war 

from the Communist side was an unrelieved record of duplicity and 

deceit. Vietnamese Communists used terror judiciously and selectively, but such a rational approach makes it more rather than less 

of an atrocity. Hanoi might proclaim its independence, but there 

were no arms factories in North Vietnam and the Vietnamese Communists were totally dependent on their Soviet and Chinese allies for 

military hardware. 

Within American decision-making circles the disparity of perceptions was not as great as in the general population, but still was great 

enough. In combing through the records and documentation of the 

war, one is struck by the self-contained, insular quality of perceptions 

of the war as held in Washington among major governmental elements- the Pentagon, White House, State Department, and Capitol 

Hill. In Saigon there was, of course, an enormous disparity of view 

between the Americans and their Vietnamese allies and to a considerable extent among the other allied forces in the war. 

This general American condition of competing perceptions 

meant that the U.S. was deprived of a unity of purpose and of 

consensus on war policy that would have been possible given a 

common perception. The result was that we never got past the point 

of disputation on the nature of the enemy and his strategy-never got 

to the point where true strategic analysis was possible. Debate on 

strategy devolved to the technical level and assessment to how best 

to deal with the enemy at the tactical level. This was particularly true 

of the period under examination here, the years 1966- 1967, in which 
106 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

the U.S. concentrated on finding ways to integrate itself into the 

struggle, the means whereby it could translate its admitted military 

prowess-much of it measured in terms of thermonuclear strengthinto something that had relevance for Vietnam. This became largely 

a technological exercise. 

As the war dragged on, perceptions changed, of course, influenced by what might be called the temporal syndrome. Changing 

circumstances changed perceptions; mostly it polarized them and 

drove them to the outer limits. 

The end of the war did not alter this condition appreciably. Most 

of the wartime perceptions remain and now appear in postwar writings, retrospective accounts, and particularly in memoirs. The task 

of sorting out these competing perceptions and establishing truth 

remains still ahead for historians of the war. 

Strategic EnvironmnU 

We now proceed to explore the history of the war during the years 

of Hanoi's regular force strategy. 

As the year 1965 dawned, the ruling Politburo in Hanoi made the 

assessment that victory in the South was very close, perhaps only 

weeks away. The U.S. announcement the following month-that it 

was sending ground troops to Vietnam and inaugurating air strikes 

in the North-did not alter this assessment at first. The Politburo 

reasoned that the American decision had come too late, that the rot 

in South Vietnam was too far gone and that as the North Vietnamese 

slogan of the moment put it: "The greater the American intervention, 

the greater the American defeat." It was not an unrealistic assessment. 

Yet victory did not come in the next few weeks, and why this is 

so remains something of a mystery. February 1965 saw the Communists in Vietnam at the gates of victory. Neither the government 

forces of South Vietnam nor the U.S. forces were able in those first 

months to alter the hard strategic situation faced in South Vietnam; 

logically the PLAF should have been victorious. America's major 

contribution to the war in the spring of 1965 was to launch air strikes 

against North Vietnam's transportation/communication matrix, but 

this action can hardly be credited with preventing defeat of the 

Republic of Vietnam. U.S. efforts in the South meantime were 

largely confined to the desperate task of quick military buildup. 
STRATEGIC FACTORS, 1965- 1968 107 

Some military hardware, most importantly helicopters, began arriving in mid-year, but the full flow through the pipeline did not come 

until the following year. American combat troops arrived in significant numbers only late in 1965, although by the end of the year their 

numbers had reached 183,000 as opposed to 23,000 at the end of 

1964. 

In the field, PLAF forces had been decimating ARVN battalions 

one after the other, and by early 1965 few reserve battalions were left. 

Had General Giap continued to press the war with the strategy he 

employed before the arrival of American ground troops he might well 

have triggered the kind of total confusion and collapse that marked 

ARVN at the end of the war, with the result that the war would have 

been over sometime in early 1965 before American forces could arrive in sufficient numbers to stem the tide. Instead, the ever-cautious 

Giap cut back his campaign so as to reassess the changed scene and 

devise a new strategy to deal with the Americans. 

The change of strategy, however, was not due simply to the fact 

of the arriving Americans. Another major reason for the switch from 

revolutionary guerrilla war to regular force strategy was Hanoi politics in which various military doctrines served as political weapons; 

there was a particularly acute and long-lasting struggle between Le 

Duan and the big-unit war strategists versus Truong Chinh and the 

advocates of protracted conflict warfare. As became apparent later, 

moreover, strong doubts had developed among DRV and NLF military theoreticians as to whether actual victory could be achieved by 

revolutionary guerrilla war. That such warfare engendered social 

disruption there could be no dispute; but social disintegration in the 

South was not necessarily equatable with victory, defined as unification. Hence the belief grew that the time had come to shift to more 

orthodox warfare which would de)jver the coup de grace. Finally, and 

most importantly, there was growing suspicion in the Politburo concerning the ultimate ambitions of indigenous NLF leaders, many of 

whom were regarded as "bourgeois" revolutionaries. The Politburo 

felt uncomfortable with a strategy which granted autonomy and 

freedom of action to unre)jable Southerners. Thus with some urgency 

the order went out to select, train, and send south large units of 

PAVN. The motive behind this order was not military; rather, it was 

the PoJitburo's intention to have a completely loyal military force on 

the scene in the South when the end came. This force would ensure 

that the war was not won and the peace lost through NLF defection, 

i.e., through some settlement with the residual elements of the South 
108 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Vietnamese government and the Americans which would have the 

net effect, as in 1954, of betraying the cause of unification. 

For these reasons and perhaps others, a new doctrine was devised, here termed regular force strategy. It developed slowly and in 

piecemeal fashion, and while it was on the drafting boards or being 

tested in the field from the spring of 1965 onwards and dominated 

PAVN-PLAF battlefield activities in 1966, it became fully operational only in the last half of 1967, with the 1967-1968 winter-spring 

campaign. Its chief architect was PAVN commander General Vo 

Nguyen Giap. 8 

Before discussing the strategy devised by General Giap for use 

against the Americans, it is necessary to put his thinking into context. 

His strategy rests on a broad set of military principles devised during 

the Viet Minh War (and owing much to Chinese thinking), then 

honed and developed in the Vietnam War. These principles are 

complex and difficult to deal with in abbreviated form. They are 

treated in full in the hundred page "Chapter V-Strategy" of my 

forthcoming work PAVN: People's Army of Vietnam. Very briefly, and 

in oversimplified terms, this basic PAVN military doctrine can be 

described thus: Its essence is dau tranh {struggle) of which there are 

two types: dau tranh vu trang (armed struggle: military action, violence 

programs) and dau tranh chink tri (political struggle: politics with 

guns). PAVN cadres in conducting training use the metaphor of the 

enemy smashed by the hammer of armed struggle on the anvil of 

political struggle. The point is that dau tranh always is dualistic, the 

bedrock doctrine being that neither form of 'Struggle can defeat the 

enemy alone. Only together-in the marriage of violence to politics-can victory be achieved. The political dau tranh consists of three 

van or action programs: dan van or action among the people; dich van 

or action among the enemy; binh van or action among the military. 

Collectively these three van programs comprise the entire matrix of 

political struggle, which, combined with armed struggle, encompasses the entire realm of warfare as the Vietnamese Communists 

seek to practice it. The doctrinal cement holding it all to together is 

called khoi nghia (general uprising), a social myth. 

With this brief, introduction to basic PAVN military science 

thinking, we are now ready to turn to General Giap's mid-l960s 

effort$ to devise a strategic response to the arriving Americans. He 

faced an enemy with three advantages, all of them the result of the 

fact that American military technological development in the years 

since the end of the Viet Minh War had virtually revolutionized 
STRATEGIC FACTORS, 1965- 1968 109 

warfare. What had worked against the French no longer would work 

against the Americans. The three advantages of the enemy were 

greater use of heavy long-range weapons (naval shelling); increased 

use of air power (B-52 raids); and greater mobility. These were 

purely military problems. The mass ranged against Giap's forces was 

superior both in terms of mass of men and mass of firepower. His 

enemy's mobility, provided chiefly by the ubiquitous helicopterwhich in Vietnam revolutionized warfare-also was superior. The 

U.S./GVN had greater firepower-sheer ability to throw lead. 

American First Cavalry troops went into battle carrying 500 rounds 

of ammunition versus 30 to 50 shells by the PLAF-PAVN. Behind 

the Americans were recoilless rifles, artillery, air strikes, B-52s. Allied mobility permitted the sudden arrival of troops in areas previously valuable to Giap for their inaccessibility. It also permitted 

doubling up of troops; I talked to one U.S. Marine captain who, by 

accident, fought three skirmishes in three provinces between the 

rising and setting of one sun-he had been "tripled" by the 

helicopter. 

Superior allied mass and movement had seriously concerned 

Giap since the arrival of the first U.S. ground troops, a concern that 

grew steadily more depressing from his viewpoint. Consider his situation in the summer of 1967. His troops in the South had not won a 

single battle of significance in nearly two years, when two years 

before they had been at the gates of victory. Now American firepower 

was eating deeply into PLAF /PA VN reserves of men and supplies. 

The desertion rate in the PLAF was doubling every six months. 

Logistics, always the ever-hungry monsters, were a nightmare as 

supplies were discovered and destroyed by the enemy. Morale was 

growing steadily worse, especially among the PLAF troops. The 

"liberation association" structure in the South was in disarray. The 

NLF financial system was under great stress. Most of all, the dogmas 

of the past were questioned openly by the true believers as being 

inadequate for the stormy present. A kind of doctrinal bankruptcy 

had developed and this was leading to a serious condition of cadre 

confusion and demoralization. 

Giap's initial strategic response was twofold. First, he sought to 

match, as far as possible, allied mass of men and firepower. He sent 

troops down the Ho Chi Minh Trail as fast as logistics permitted. 

And he vastly increased his firepower. The PAVN and PLAF in 

South Vietnam by 1966 were fighting with B-40 barrage rockets, 

152-mm. artillery pieces, antiaircraft guns, flame throwers, tanks, 
110 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

and a whole family of automatic weapons including the AK-47 

assault rifle. 

At the same time General Giap augmented North Vietnam's air 

defense system with the most advanced and sophisticated weapons 

the world has even seen in action, infinitely superior to anything 

employed by either side in World War II. The notion of a North 

Vietnam under American planes lying as helpless as Ethiopia in 1936 

was as inaccurate as the picture of the Communist forces in South 

Vietnam armed only with crude homemade weapons or those captured from the enemy. In North and South Vietnam the Communist 

forces had the best weapons that the socialist camp could manufacture. 

Essentially the regular force strategy devised and used in the 

1965-1968 period held that victory-defined as unification-could 

best be achieved by altered forms of armed dau tranh, that is, military 

pressure applied intensively and quickly. This has been called the 

Quick Victory doctrine or Go-For-Broke strategy. In allocation of 

resources top priority goes to weaponry and logistic needs, to the 

fielding of the largest number of troops possible in the shortest time. 

Although new, doctrinally it was regarded as an extension of previous strategy of revolutionary guerrilla war. The chief difference between the two was that the ratio of armed to political dau tranh was 

reversed and the temporal dimension was redefined. Greater emphasis was put on armed struggle, and rather than a long war of attrition, 

proponents sought to compress events in time and press for a quicker 

outcome. 

The most innovative elements of this strategy, and its essence, are 

what Giap calls "fighting methods" or basic tactics. There are two of 

these: the "coordinated fighting method" and the "independent 

fighting method." 

The coordinated fighting method (each danh hop dong) was the chief 

assignment of PA VN troops and PLAF main force units. It involved 

attacks by fairly large units against fairly important targets, but 

never so large an attack as to make the battle strategically decisive 

and always in favorable terrain. Ideally, the target would be in some 

wild, inaccessible region that would reduce the maneuverability of 

troops brought in as reinforcement. Also the initial assault was 

designed to bring the attackers under the umbrella of the no-strike 

zone over the installation, thus eliminating the danger from enemy 

air power. Then the target would be overrun and the attackers 

would vanish. Examples of coordinated fighting methods were the 
STRATEGIC FACTORS, 1965-1968 111 

PAVN-inaugurated battles at Con Thien (September-October 

1967), Loc Ninh (October 1967) and Oak To (November 1967). 

The independent fighting method (each danh doc lap) based on "the 

principle of using a small number of troops to defeat a large number 

of troops who possess modern equipment," owes much to earlier 

guerrilla war tactics. It was normally the task of the PLAF regional 

and territorial guerrilla units, but on occasion could be assigned to 

PLAF main force or PAVN units. This tactic reduced to the minimum the enemy's superiority in manpower, firepower, and mobility. 

Its disadvantage was that in itself it could never become decisive. 

The classic example of the independent fighting method was the Tet 

offensive of 1968. 

To achieve decisiveness, therefore, under regular force strategy, 

the two fighting methods were to be combined into what General 

Giap termed the comprehensive offensive. No comprehensive offensive as he envisioned it developed during the Vietnam War, since it 

could come only as a culmination of momentum generated by the 

independent and coordinated fighting methods. Sufficient momentum never developed. 

The strategy's climax, and decisive test, came with the PAVN 

winter-spring campaign of 1967-1968. In all probability General 

Giap sold the campaign to the Politburo on the grounds that it would 

be decisive. Phase one of the campaign (October-December 1967) 

was marked by the coordinated fighting method battles noted above. 

DRV casualties were heavy in these-5,000 men were killed or permanently injured at Oak To alone-but the phase ended inconclusively. Phase two was marked by increased use of the independent 

fighting method. Its crescendo was the Tet offensive of 1968 in which 

thirty-two of South Vietnam's major population centers were attacked simultaneously by 70,000 of General Giap's best forces. While 

the Tet offensive had enormous psychological impact abroad, particularly in the United States where it was a major factor in President 

Lyndon j ohnson's decision not to seek reelection, it was a disaster for 

General Giap. He had begun his winter-spring campaign with 

195,000 men. At its conclusion he had lost (killed or permanently 

disabled) 85,000 of his best troops with virtually nothing militarily to 

show for it. 

At this point the Politburo began a series of moves that had the 

net effect of changing grand strategy from the doctrine employed for 

the past three years to something resembling the pre-1965 days, here 

termed nco-revolutionary guerrilla war strategy. It too was destined 
112 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

to fail and would then, once again, late in the war, give General Giap 

a second opportunity to return to the fray with a revised version of 

his regular force strategy. 

Retrospective Meanings 

Never between the two adversaries in the Vietnam War was there 

what could be calJed a transactional strategic great debate, and we 

were the poorer for it. The result was there never did emerge between 

the high command in Hanoi and its counterparts in the Pentagon 

and in Saigon any sort of a tacit agreement as to what exactly 

constituted the war between them, no consensus on a clear definition 

of victory and defeat. In this the Vietnam War was unique and quite 

unlike past wars-say, World War II in which the Allies and the 

Axis proceeded on the basis of a common assumption (either the 

Allies would succeed in invading and subduing Germany, Italy, and 

Japan in the name of unconditional surrender or would fall short of 

that goal). Both sides clearly understood the parameters of their 

struggle. In Vietnam strategic ambiguity existed from the earliest 

days and continued throughout the war. 

The most important point to make about the U.S. in this respect 

probably is that we first committed ourselves to the war and then 

began to think about it comprehensively. The highest level leadership did not initially sit down and address in detailed and extended 

fashion its strategic position, did not discuss and analyze enemy 

strengths, weaknesses, and probable strategies, did not wrangle and 

argue and finally hammer out a fully articulated strategy.9 

There was in this behavior a sense of enormous self-confidence, 

indeed a kind of unconscious arrogance on the part of the Americans. 

It was abundantly evident in Vietnam during the early period of the 

arriving American ground troops-particularly those American 

civilians who had been present in Vietnam in earlier years. It was 

manifested mainly toward ARVN, a syndrome of superior professionalism: step aside and let the big boys do it. 

The second most important point to make in this respect is that 

we entered the war without fully appreciating the enemy's strategy. 

Worse, we never made a serious effort to correct this shortcoming. 

The highest leadership never devoted itself to systematically learning 

about Hanoi's strategic thinking and doctrine. Indeed there is not 

even today clear knowledge in the U.S. government as to what 
STRATEGIC FACTORS, 1965- 1968 113 

exactly was the strategy employed by the Communist military forces 

in Vietnam. 

We suffered from the worst kind of ignorance-what Aldous 

Huxley calls vincible ignorance: that which one does not know and 

realizes it, but does not regard as necessary to know. T his vincible 

ignorance was worse in Washington than in Saigon, more common 

among civilians than military leaders, and at its worst in the White 

House under Lyndon johnson. 10 

Much of this can be put down to the individual mindset of the 

principals involved-in the White House, the Pentagon, and the 

State Department. 

or course there was expertise-individuals and governmental 

elements both in Washington and in Saigon, both military and civilian apparat-devoted to strategic analysis. Effort was mounted, as is 

noted below, but it failed, not because of ignorance (vincible or 

otherwise) but because it was so disparate and fragmented that no 

analytical consensus was ever possible. The villain in the piece thus 

was not individuals but the system, which was never able to address 

itself in a meaningful way to the enemy, to his thinking, to his 

leadership, to his strengths, weaknesses, and choices. 

It is difficult to substantiate this charge in objective fashion because it is always hard to prove a negative. However, an examination 

of the documents of this period makes clear our sin of omission with 

respect to strategic analysis of the Vietnamese Communist war effort. 

No high-level permanent institution was created to analyze enemy 

strategic thinking-only ISA-level task forces, some defector interview programs by RAND in Vietnam, and a few ARPA studies. 11 No 

one, in or out of government, ever produced a history of PAVN, a 

PAVN guide, or any other full-scale study of PAVN and PLAF. No 

significant biographical studies of enemy leaders were done. We had 

470,000 Americans in Vietnam at the height of the war, and one 

sociologist in the villages doing research on social organization. The 

number of analysts working on the Viet Cong (NLF) could be numbered on the fingers of one hand, and they started years after the 

organization was formed. One can search the voluminous Pentagon 

Papers in vain for extended discussion of the other side, any discussion 

at all. Unlike earlier wars in which research and analysis were both 

extensive and esoteric (Ruth Benedict's Tlu Chrysanthemum and tlu 

Sword, or analysis of Hitler's astrological beliefs, for example), in 

Vietnam we allocated hardly any resources. Much tactical intelligence was generated that could have been exploited, but wasn't. 
114 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Work on order of battle generally was good; politics of the Politburo 

was hardly touched. 

It was, it appears, a manifestation of unconscious arrogance. 

When a high-level official-such as Robert McNamara-wanted to 

know what Ho Chi Minh would think about a matter (prolonged 

heavy air strikes, for instance) he would interview himself, asking 

what he would think if he were Ho Chi Minh. Having answered the 

question, he would proceed on that basis, only later to discover that 

Ho Chi Minh, being Ho Chi Minh, had not shared his opinion (i.e., 

did not respond to the air strikes as assumed). 

Nor was this shortcoming confined to the U.S. government. 

Equally scandalous, if not more so, was the total failure of the American academic community to contribu te to knowledge and understanding of the enemy and his strategy. Scholars and academics 

energetically opposed the war, but did so in ignorance. With no basis 

of knowledge, their counsel was rooted in error; in the field their 

advice was dismissed, as it should have been, as worthless. During 

the Vietnam War, virtually nothing was produced by the American 

academic community on the strategic thinking of the Vietnamese 

Communists. There should have been a flood of such studies. 

The reasons for this vincible ignorance are manifold. First and 

most obviously, we did not attend to Hanoi's strategic thinking in 

any serious analytical way because we saw no pressing requirement 

to do so. We did not know what General Giap thought and we didn't 

really care-we would caJl the tune. To the extent we did examine 

the matter, we did not think that General Giap and his high command possessed anything amounting to a full-scale strategy worthy 

of deep consideration. North Vietnamese military writings seemed 

only froth-hyperbolic verbiage with strange terms such as dau tranh 

(struggle) that were mere abstractions. We convinced ourselves that 

the enemy was all tactics, that there was no strategy there to analyze. 

A second reason is that, at least during the period under examination here, we tended to believe (even though we insisted the opposite publicly) that Hanoi's involvement in the war in the South was 

confined largely to logistics. The war had a highly indigenous cast to 

it, and we assumed we were dealing with guerrilla mentality in which 

Hanoi's strategic thinking was only marginal. (One of the major 

postwar revelations has been just how extensive was Hanoi's involvement in strategic terms from the earliest days, extending back even 

into the mid-1950s.) 
STRATEGIC FACTORS, 1965-1968 115 

A third reason, self-imposed, was that we suffered from what 

might be called institutional compartmentalization. The enemy's 

strategy, by design, was total, a seamless web. It encompassed the 

entire range of military and nonmilitary action and was structured 

and directed as a single organ. We had no comparable institution 

(combining military and civilian elements) to deal with this opposing 

apparat. Our response was compartmentalized into orthodox military 

activities, diplomatic representation, manipulation of internal Vietnamese politics, and external mass communication efforts. Research 

and analysis were equally compartmentalized; our agencies independently analyzed the order of battle, world public opinion, political 

settlement efforts in Paris, U.S.-GVN relations, and the antiwar 

movement in the U.S. We met the enemy's single strategic assault 

with a dutch of uncoordinated strategic responses, in some instances 

with none at all. For the U.S., especially in its relations with the 

GVN, it was a problem of bureaucratic impasse. Much of the enemy's day-to-day activity, in consonance with his grand strategy, 

was what we considered nonmilitary and beyond the domain either 

of the U.S. military in Vietnam or ARVN. Presumably it would be 

met by some other institution-the U.S. embassy, AID, the CIA, 

GVN "nation-building" civil servants, or private Vietnamese institutions (such as trade unions, farm cooperatives, women's and youth 

organizations). The needed response, to use the parlance of the day, 

fell between the stools. The U.S./GVN had enormous difficulty in 

coping with this problem and never did solve it to the satisfaction of 

all. During the period under review here, 1965-1968, response was 

almost nonexistent. Not until later, with the advent of the CORDS 

concept, did any institutional mechanism at aU exist to deal with the 

broadness of the enemy's strategy. 

Finally we were deliberately misled, presented by the enemy with 

a strategy that was not what it seemed to be nor as officially portrayed. More correctly perhaps, we allowed ourselves to be misled; 

deception has been an integral part of all Vietnamese strategies for 

a thousand years. Hanoi worked long and hard during the war to 

camouflage its strategy, its nature, and its objective. This effort-intricately complex and of many dimensions-is beyond the scope of 

this paper. Briefly, it consisted of employing various communicational techniques to nullify the enemy's military, sociopolitical, and 

psychic strengths. It sought to debilitate the South Vietnamese war 

effort and to force the U.S. to impose upon itself military limitations. 

It sought to engender a crisis in perception in the enemy camp as a 
116 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

means of confounding the enemy's strategic response. It was central 

to Vietnamese Communist strategy, both in the Viet Minh and 

Vietnam Wars. 

This obfuscation of the nature and purpose of the war, on Hanoi's 

part, not only updated the long effective rule of divide and conquer, 

but also employed a judo principle and turned the weight of the 

enemy's philosophic system against him. It is a strategy that works 

best against a democracy of fair-minded people and least against 

barbarians or messianic fanatics. It agrees victory will go to the just 

because justice must triumph. But it does not claim that the enemy 

is unjust in a way that tars all in the enemy camp. Rather, the enemy 

is an abstraction, consisting of the unjust and misled leadership, 

perhaps a few other selected individuals. Normal wartime polarization is denied. Again and again it asserts to the opposite camp, 

particularly to the vast civilian population at home, we are not your 

ene71V'. The enemy is the unjust person who wishes to pursue an unjust 

war and surely you are not among these. Hanoi stands not for victory 

but for justice. The struggle then becomes a test of virtue. The 

outsider, looking on, is presented, on the one hand, with the Communist's own idealized picture of himself (and denied objective inspection of the Communist camp); and on the other hand, he sees the 

errors, shortcomings, and follies of his own, very human side. Reality 

seldom stands a chance against image. The more distant the onlooker, or the less knowledge he has about the struggle (and such 

knowledge in the United States was generally close to nonexistent), 

the more apparently odious becomes the comparison. 

Each side in every war in history, of course, has attempted to 

influence the thinking and morale of the other side or has sought 

external moral support. But until the Vietnam War this psychological dimension was considered adjunct. Earlier, as if by common 

agreement, it was acknowledged that victory would be decided by 

combat. The battle would be the payoff. The Vietnamese Communists were the first really to break with this idea that the ultimate test 

must be military. First dimly and then with increased clarity, they 

realized that it might be possible to achieve an entire change of venue 

and make the primary test take place away from the battlefield. 

The strategy was not entirely successful in the sense of effecting 

a full change of venue. But it did succeed in subverting American war 

support at home, ruining much American diplomacy abroad, and 

delimiting and inhibiting American military response in Vietnam 

itself. 
STRATEGIC FACTORS, 1965- 1968 117 

Finally, there is retrospective meaning. If further evidence is 

needed of our ignorance ofHanoi's grand strategy and the ambiguity 

of the outcome of the war, it is to be found in the perceived heritage 

of the war, the meaning that has come down to us, the lessons 

learned. 

Here, once again, are a variety of perceptions. Some argue that 

a great global epidemic of violence was spawned by the Vietnam 

War, partly from the how-to-do-it dau tran.h demonstrations by the 

VietCong of the success that could be achieved by these techniques. 

Unleashed is the notion that shooting, kneecapping, kidnapping, 

blackmail, armed robbery, anything is acceptable if it promises political change. Now such an ethic is almost taken for granted. This 

bodes ill for democracies. Personal freedom in a democracy is not a 

consequence of institutions, but an attitude of mind which respects 

the right of personal security for others. We now face the grim 

prospect that the price for defense against this political fanaticism 

must be loss of some of our own freedom. 

A second perception of the meaning of the Vietnam War is that 

aggression pays, if it can be protracted. The genius of the Vietnamese 

Communist example is how to manipulate external perception by 

drawing events out in time, so that what is done ·is not seen as 

aggression but necessary social change. The Vietnamese Communists and others would agree to this statement but only in meaning, 

not the language used to describe it. Rather, they would say the 

meaning of the war was inducing great social progress, advancing the 

progressive forces and weakening the reactionaries; also that it 

demonstrated a powerful means for achieving still further victories 

for socialism. A concurrent meaning here is that a democracy probably cannot fight a protracted conflict. It can fight a quick war, even 

a dirty one, but not one that appears endless. A society facing a 

hostile force either internally or externally-a force sufficiently implacable to demonstrate its determination to prevail regardless of 

cost-will eventually surrender. There is enormous efficacy and potency in this fifty-year-war notion, if for no other reason than that no 

counterstrategy is known. 

A third perception is that the war ruined the conduct of proper 

American foreign affairs. It poisoned the American world position in 

Asia, undercut American credibility with both friend and adversary. 

It generated a new force of isolationism in America. It eliminated the 

ability of the White House to deal with the world adequately, yet 

substituted no other mechanism. 
118 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

A contrary perception holds that the war bought valuable time 

for non-Communist Asia-for instance, that Indonesia today would 

be Communist had it not been for the Vietnam War. This perception 

also holds that the war discredited the notion of revolutionary guerrilla war by stripping it of its romanticism, thus making it less appealing throughout the world. 

Finally, there is the view that the Vietnam War had only limited 

meaning for the world and the future. It was a one-of-a-kind situation 

which will never develop again or repeat itself. Southern Africa, 

Central America, the insurgency in the Philippines bear no important parallel to Vietnam. It is a mistake to treat new or developing 

problems in terms of what was learned in Vietnam. 

Hence we come full circle. The task of historians then is to determine what actually happened in the Vietnam War, and what is the 

true heritage for us today. 

NOTES 

1. Works consulted in the preparation for this paper include the writings of 

General Vo Nguyen Giap, principally Big Victory, Great Task; Tlu Military Art of 

People's War and Ann tlu RtvOlutionary Masses; Gen. Van Tien Dung's Our Creal Spring 

Victory; Gen. Tran Van Tra's Vietnam: History of tlu Bulwark 82 Theater, Vol. 5: 

Concluding the 30-Years War, J PRS 82783, 2 February 1983 (Southeast Asia Report 

No. 1247); and Vietnam: Tlu At1ti-U.S. Resistance War for National Salvation 1954-1975: 

Military EvenJs produced by the PAVN Publishing House (Hanoi) in 1980 and 

translated byJPRS 80968, 3J une 1982. Others areSummonsofthe Trumpet by David 

Richard Palmer; Vietnam: A History by Stanley Karnow; Not With Guns Alone by Denis 

Warner; Tet by Don Oberdorfer; Strategy for Difeat by U.S.G. Sharp; and Strange War, 

Strange Strategy by Lewis W. Walt. 

2. In the last ten years there has been a flood of material out ofHanoi dealing with 

all phases of the early history ofNorth Vietnam, the Vietnamese Communist movement, and the war. See particularly the party journal Tap Chi Gong San, almost every 

issue of which contains articles that acknowledge what once was denied in Communist circles and debated outside of them concerning the conduct of the war, foreign 

relations, and the nature of tfle North Vietnamese armed forces. 

3. This strategic environment is discussed in full in my forthcoming work, PAVN: 

People's Anny of Vietnam. 

4. For full detailing of these categories, see the Vietnam War entry in the comparative encyclopedia Marxism, Communism and Western Society (Bonn, 1972). 

5. Perception in psychological terms exists on two levels. The first is to take cognizance of something, to "see" it. The second is a structuring process, the organizing 
STRATEGIC FACTORS, 1965- 1968 119 

of phenomena into a single unified meaning, that is, a "way" of looking at something. Truth or error exist on the first level, termed misperception, but have little 

meaning on the second level, unless ignoring relevant information. 

6. Another perceptional dimension is what might be called the parochial perception; that is, one's view of the war depended on where you were: in Vietnam or in 

the U.S.; if in the U.S., in Washington or elsewhere in the country; in college; or in 

Asia, Europe, or some other part of the world. 

7. As a concept, this kind of war was largely unknown in America, and the 

description here may strike the reader as esoteric abstraction, due to lack of familiarity. The concept is real, vital, and entirely familiar to every Vietnamese Communist cadre, as well as to serious American students of the Vietnam War. · 

8. Outlined most clearly in General Giap's Big Victory, Great Task. 

9. This is not to say that the other side had a very clear understanding of it.s 

enemy's concept of the nature of the war either, nor a clear understanding of the 

overall nature of the war. Rather, the Hanoi leadership had blind, implacable faith 

in its cause, to which it clung tenaciously. In other words, Hanoi officials did not see 

the course of the war in advance any more than anyone else did. 

10. We had great capability on the battlefield, which came to obsess us. Indeed, 

one of the great traps in counterinsurgency warfare is the tendency to do what you 

are able to do and are prepared to do, rather than what needs to be done. Much U.S. 

activity in the Vietnam War was justified by the argument that we had the capability to accomplish it. 

II. The first "roles and missions" task force was formed in August 1966; it was 

however a low-level effort rather than what it should have been, at least at the 

deputy undersecretary level. Operation BlC MACK circa 1968 was the first serious 

effort to gather data about the other side in a comprehensive manner. It was part 

of what was called the census grievance cadre system (which included the Phoeni.x 

program) and generated a good deal of valuable tactical intelligence but little 

strategic intelligence. 

The Challenge of Counterinsurgency 

Richard A. Hunt 

During the Vietnam War, the South Vietnamese, with American 

advice and financing, devised a succession of pacification programs 

to counteract the Viet Cong insurgency. Despite their various guises, 

these programs shared a common goal of providing sustained rural 

security for the Vietnamese people so that economic development 

programs could proceed without disruption. The term pacification 

can be viewed on one level as a strategy for bringing security and 

economic development to South Vietnam. On another level the term 

describes a number of specific programs carried out by South Vietnamese military forces and cadre teams to improve security and 

economic conditions. Pacification programs ran the gamut from police and intelligence work to advising farmers on how to raise pigs 

and grow rice. Consequently, a host of U.S. government agencies 

were involved in supporting the various elements of the pacification 

program during the war: the State Department, the Agency for International Development, the CIA, the Department of Agriculture, and 

the U.S. Army. The roles of the Americans and the South Vietnamese, although related, remained distinct throughout the war. 

Vietnamese forces provided security, and the American government 

supplied arms and ammunition, helped develop training programs, 

and underwrote the costs. After the American support effort was 

unified under the single managership of the Military Assistance 

Command, Vietnam (MACV), in 1967, a step that made more 

funds, equipment, and advisers available for territorial security 

forces, pacification began to make headway only in late 1968 against 

the Communist insurgency. Improved American support and sustained rural security were necessary preconditions for gains in the 

121 
122 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

pacification program. The military defeat of VietCong forces during 

the Tet offensive of 1968 provided the opportunity, which the Americans and South Vietnamese exploited, to make gains by expanding 

the pacification program into previously contested areas. 

This paper concentrates on two aspects and only two aspects of 

pacification: the requirement to provide sustained local security for 

the South Vietnamese and the organization of American support of 

the pacification program carried out by the Vietnamese. Owing to 

the limitations of space, other pacification-related topics of importance, such as economic development programs, refugee assistance, 

and specific military operations in support of pacification, are omitted. To develop my argument in detail, I have also been unable to 

acknowledge in this paper the significant contribution numerous 

American military and civilian officials made to the pacification 

program, contributions that did not generate publicity but that were 

essential to the operation of the program. 

The nature of the fighting in Vietnam gave pacification a crucial 

role in the conflict. One former Defense Department analyst, 

Thomas Thayer, has characterized the struggle in Vietnam as a 

"War Without Fronts."1 Unlike the two world wars and the Korean 

conflict, the opposing forces in Vietnam did not deploy in linear 

formations or operate in discrete areas. The Vietnam War was 

largely an atomized struggle of many small clashes, most of which 

were in or near rural settlements. 

The objective of the war was political. The South Vietnamese 

fought the Viet Cong, politically and militarily, for control of the 

people of South Vietnam. The Americans and South Vietnamese 

thought of control mainly as the absence or expulsion of hostile 

forces, the presence offriendly ones, or the existence of a functioning 

local government loyal to Saigon. The VietCong concept of control 

encompassed a spectrum of possibilities from outright political domination in areas beyond the reach of Saigon's forces to the operation 

of shadow governments inside some villages the government considered contested or relatively secure. VietCong agents and sympathizers undermined the government's position in a number of ways-by 

killing or kidnapping officials, by betraying military plans and government programs, and by planting agents in South Vietnamese 

military units and offices. Under those conditions, the Viet Cong 

command found it unnecessary to station military forces in all the 
THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY 123 

hamlets it controlled or to assign soldiers to protect people. The VC 

concentrated military forces where their foe was vulnerable, namely 

the rural settlements. In contrast, the South Vietnamese found it 

imperative to provide sustained local security and to find a way of 

uncovering and disrupting the covert government run by the Viet 

Cong infrastructure, or risk Communist subversion or domination. 

The goal was political, but American forces operated essentially 

as they had in earlier conventional wars. The introduction of American ground and air forces beginning in 1965 changed the complexion of the war. Mter 1965 a war of attrition fought by large American 

Army units was superimposed on the ongoing insurgency in Vietnam 

that continued until 1972 to be the centerpiece of the enemy's effort. 

Under attrition, American ground and air power was directed at 

nullifying the military strength of the North Vietnamese and Viet 

Cong. Attrition was not designed to achieve an outright military 

victory, nor to resolve the political issues of the war. It had two basic 

purposes: to prevent the military defeat of South Vietnam's forces; 

and to convince the Communists they could not win by diminishing 

their war-making capacity and making the costs of continuing the 

war prohibitive. Attrition's focus on wearing down the Viet Cong 

through conventional military operations meant that the underlying 

political issues of the war and the ongoing insurgency tended to be 

overlooked. 

Washington's expenditure of funds for the war helps illustrate the 

strategic priorities of the Americans and the kind of war they actually 

fought. In fiscal year 1969, for example, (using data developed by 

Thayer and his colleagues) American ground, air, and naval actions 

in the Vietnam theater represented 82 percent of the costs. Expenditures for civil programs, including pacification, amounted to only 

4 percent that year. The air war consumed the biggest share of the 

budget in fiscal year 1969, $9.5 billion or 47 percent of the total. At 

a cost of$6.1 billion, land forces took 30 percent of expenditures. Of 

the amount spent on ground combat, less than a billion dollars went 

to assist the territorial forces of South Vietnam-the Regional and 

Popular Forces-in fiscal year 1969. Even in fiscal year 1971, a 

period ofless intense fighting and a changing mix of forces owing to 

the departure of American combat units, two-thirds of American 

outlays went to the main force war and the air interdiction campaign. 

Territorial forces and the police received a mere 2.5 percent of the 

funds, that year. Clearly, in terms of the allocation of American 
124 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

resources, the war of attrition through air and ground operations 

came first by a sizable margin. Pacification lagged far behind.2 But 

expenditures for a war of attrition could not serve to advance the 

allied effort toward the goal of an independent South Vietnam as 

much as pacification did. 

By 1967, some key members of the Johnson administration attacked the attrition strategy. Among others, Secretary of Defense 

McNamara and analysts in the Office of the Secretary of Defense 

concluded that attrition could not succeed in defeating the Communists. By their reasoning, despite heavy losses the enemy was willing 

and able to sustain heavy casualties into the foreseeable future. The 

system analysts concluded on the basis of an analysis of statistical 

data on casualties and the frequency of fighting that Communist 

forces to a great extent decided when and where to fight, controlled 

their own casualty rate, and thus kept losses at manageable levels. 

American and South Vietnamese military operations could not force 

them to fight or to quit fighting. The Viet Cong and North Vietnamese had no chance of defeating the allies by military force alone. 

The result was a stalemate on the battlefield, but continued government losses in the political war being fought in the villages of South 

Vietnam. 

The Pattern of Enemy Operations 

Enemy combat operations followed a pattern and were designed 

to wear down the internal security forces of South Vietnam. Heavy 

fighting occurred from February through June; there was a lull in 

July, with renewed combat in August and September and relatively 

low levels of activity until February. Most enemy actions were small 

in scale. Battalion-size attacks were a more serious military threat 

than small raids and political harassment, but they constituted only 

a small percentage (3.3) of all enemy engagements. When battalionsize attacks are examined in the context of the entire range of enemy 

actions-harassment by fire, indirect fire, political coercion, and 

terrorism-the enemy's unconventional style of warfare becomes unmistakable. Even in 1972, a year which saw unusually heavy conven-
THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY 125 

tional fighting during the Easter offensive, ground assaults of all size 

units, a category that includes standoff attacks by indirect fire, 

amounted only to 21 percent of all enemy-initiated incidents. The 

preponderance of the enemy's effort throughout the war, as measured by the number of hostile actions (30,000-40,000 each year), 

was weighted in the direction of terrorism, sabotage, and attacks by 

indirect fire. These actions were often directed against civilians 

rather than military forces. As expected, 1968 witnessed the highest 

number of incidents, nearly 43,000 actions of all kinds. The large 

numbers, small size, and dispersed nature of enemy military activity 

indicated the enemy relied on insurgent tactics instead of conventional operations even in the year of the Tet offensive. The purpose 

of these tactics was to wear down the internal security forces ofSouth 

Vietnam-its police, militia, and territorial forces providing population security.3 

Casualty figures on friendly forces also support the contention 

that Communist strategy focused on the security forces of the Saigon 

government. With the exception of 1968, the Regional and Popular 

Forces providing security for the rural population had a higher combat death rate than the Army of the Republic of Vietnam {ARVN) 

every year between 1967 and 1971. In 1968 the combat death rate for 

ARVN was 30 per 1,000 men compared to a rate of29 per 1,000 for 

the RF/PF. When American forces began leaving South Vietnam in 

1969, ARVN had to assume more of the burden of the main force 

war. Before that time many regular South Vietnamese Army battalions had the mission of supporting pacification and performed in a 

capacity similar to the RF/ PF. The annual combat death rate for 

1965- 1972 was 1.8 percent for American soldiers, 2.3 percent 

ARVN, and 2.7 percent for the RF/PF, strongly suggesting it was 

more dangerous to serve in the territorial than the regular forces of 

the Americans or South Vietnamese. 4 The RF /PF also suffered the 

most combat deaths for the 1965-1972 period, 85,000 versus 75,000 

for the ARVN. American combat deaths for those years came to 

approximately 45,000.5 The higher casualty rates of the RF/PF indicate that the Communists consciously concentrated on attacking the 

relatively poorly armed and trained South Vietnamese forces that 

protected the villages. The Communists selected this target not just 

because it was vulnerable, but because their goal was to destroy 

Saigon's authority in the countryside and establish control over the 

rural population. 
126 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Failures in Pacificatum 

If attrition had by 1967 produced little more than a stalemate on 

the battlefield, Saigon's attempts at pacification failed to stem the 

VietCong insurgency. Looking back to President Diem's agrovilles 

and strategic hamlets of the early sixties and the new life development, Chien Thang, and Hop Tac efforts of his successors is to review 

a record of failed pacification experiments sharing certain deficiencies. Those efforts were underfunded, inadequately supported by 

American and Vietnamese authorities, and never enjoyed the kind of 

sustained local security that they required for success. A serious 

defect of the agrovilles and strategic hamlets was the practice of 

relocating peasants into secure areas rather than moving government 

police and paramilitary forces to protect the villagers' homes. The 

programs of the early 1960s as well as the larger revolutionary development cadre program that began in 1966 depended on South Vietnamese forces {regulars, territorials, police, and paramilitary) to 

protect rural settlements and free government officials from military 

or political interference from the Viet Cong. 

A fundamental shortcoming of the counterinsurgency effort of the 

Jate 1950s and early 1960s resulted from the American and South 

Vietnamese fixation on building up conventional forces while tending to neglect the forces responsible for protecting the villagers. In 

the late 1950s the United States perceived the threat to South Vietnam's security as primarily consisting of the sects that opposed 

Diem, remnants of the Viet Minh still in the South, and the regular 

forces of the North Vietnamese Army. Consequently, the American 

Military Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG} emphasized the gathering of conventional military order-of-battle data on North Vietnam's army and did little to develop an intelligence capability to 

support counterinsurgency operations. The American intelligence 

effort neglected police type information or political intelligence on 

the Viet Gong organization at the level where South Vietnam's internal security forces confronted an emerging Viet Cong insurgency. 

MAAG's ftxation upon the threat of overt invasion, one that was 

becoming less likely and immediate than insurgency, caused it to 

lavish aid on the regular army, supplying it with training and equipment appropriate for the task of halting an invasion, and molded the 

ARVN into the image of conventional U.S. forces. After 1956 ARVN 

withdrew from rural areas to reorganize and modernize under the 

tutelage of American advisers, leaving the poorly led and trained 
THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY 127 

Civil Guard and Self-Defense Corps (CG/SDC), the predecessors of 

the RF/PF, to protect the rural population. The CG/SDC were an 

ineffectual counterinsurgent force that tended to alienate villagers 

and proved to be a source of weapons for the VietCong. Responsibility for training and equipping these paramilitary units was not vested 

in the MAAG but in other agencies of the American country team, 

who held differing views of the role and capability of those forces. 

The MAAG saw the CG/SDC as a kind of constabulary, whereas the 

civilians envisioned larger and better armed territorial forces. In 

195 7 and 1958 the Viet Cong began a campaign of terror aimed at 

destroying the central government's rural administration. By 1959, 

when the insurgency became too serious to ignore, the paramilitary 

were, in the judgment of the official Army history, "still unprepared, 

untrained, and unequipped to cope with it."6 It was not until March 

1960 that Admiral Harry Felt's staff at CINCPAC began to develop 

a counterinsurgency plan to help Saigon cope with the VietCong and 

improve the coordination of American assistance. 7 

For years disharmony and uncertainty persisted over how best to 

organize American support of pacification and hampered the effort in 

Vietnam. Although the American ambassador in Saigon was 

charged with overall responsibility for the activities of the U.S. mission there, he had to deal with an American military commander, 

who in reality was autonomous within his jurisdiction, as well as with 

the heads of three civilian agencies: the Agency for International 

Development, the United States Information Service, and the CIA. 

Each agency maintained staffs in South Vietnam substantially larger 

than that of the ambassador. Members of the military services outnumbered them all. Each agency used its own channels of communications to its headquarters in Washington, adhered to its own ideas 

of conducting the war, and enjoyed statutory authority and responsibilities set down by the U.S. Congress. The lack of central direction 

was also apparent in Washington. No one agency, task force, or 

individual short of the president himself had authority over American policy and operations in South Vietnam. American support of 

pacification epitomized this disunity, involving as it did more agencies of the U.S. government than any other program in Vietnam. Yet 

no one agency took pacification as its central responsibility or was 

willing to subordinate its interests to allow another to take full responsibility for the entire program. Ironically, each agency believed 

success in pacification, broadly defined, was necessary to defeat the 

Communists. a 
128 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

The disunity of American support in Vietnam distressed officials 

at the highest level of the U.S. government. McGeorge Bundy, President Johnson's special assistant for national security, at the same 

time that he proposed bombing North Vietnam advised the president 

in February 1965 of the urgency of improving the pacification 

program, especially its nonmilitary elements. He advocated 

strengthening pacification support at what he called "the margin 

between military advice and economic development. "9 Bundy's assistant on Vietnam, Chester Cooper, made a more radical proposal 

in March 1965. Cooper judged the Vietnam Coordinating Committee, which tried to coordinate interagency support of pacification, to 

be a better forum for interagency discussion than for managing support operations or resolving sticky interagency problems. He saw the 

need for a high-level and high-powered expeditor in Washington, in 

his words, "a Lord High Needler and two, possibly three, additional 

disagreeable but able assistants" to push stalled programs, spark 

new ideas, and handle interagency disputes over programs, goals, or 

resources. In October 1965, Cooper suggested the president appoint 

a deputy special assistant to the president for Vietnamese affairs, 

who would report to his national security adviser and have a decisive 

voice in allocating funds for all nonmilitary activities, including intelligence.10 PresidentJohnson and Bundy continued to discuss the idea 

of a single manager for nonmilitary programs in December. 11 The 

Jack of internal security in Vietnam and the imbalance of the American response, that is, too much reliance on military force and the 

comparative neglect of pacification, greatly concerned President 

J ohnson and his national security adviser. 

By late 1965 Secretary ofDefense McNamara also made clear in 

several memorandums to the president his frustration with the pacification program. McNamara forcefully set forth his view that the 

effort to secure the countryside was stalled and successful pacification was the key to Saigon's long-term health. 12 Although the arrival 

ofU.S. Army troops and the continuation of the ROLLING THUNDER air strikes against North Vietnam made unlikely the military 

defeat of South Vietnam, McNamara believed that bombing the 

North and ground operations in the South could never adequately 

substitute for an effective South Vietnamese government in the countryside. The president shared McNamara's concerns about the central role of the political struggle in winning the war. In addition, 

President Johnson was committed to improve social and economic 

conditions both in the United States and abroad, and he viewed the 
THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY 129 

economic development aspects of the pacification program as 

analogous to the plans for Great Society legislation at home. The 

president's personal interest in the other war was the prime force in 

its renewal in the late 1960s.13 But by the end of 1965, the president 

had not taken steps to improve American organization for pacification· support. 

The Honolulu Conference of 7-9 February 1966, convoked by 

President johnson, shoved pacification into the public spotlight. To 

promote the "other war" in South Vietnam, President Johnson 

hastily arranged a personal meeting with the South Vietnamese 

heads of state in Hawaii. The meeting, scheduled to occur right after 

the United States resumed the bombing of North Vietnam on 31 

January and just before Senator Fulbright began Senate hearings on 

the war in Vietnam, emphasized South Vietnam's social, political, 

and economic problems. Johnson deliberately downplayed the military aspects, even to the extent of expressly not holding the sessions 

at the most convenient Hawaiian site, the U.S. naval base at Pearl 

Harbor. 14 Having repeatedly stressed that nonmilitary American 

activities were essential to U.S. goals, he personally orchestrated a 

campaign to emphasize pacification at the conference and afterwards.15 The Honolulu Conference was the beginning of pacification's rejuvenation. 

The declaration that emerged from the conference was a broadly 

phrased document that set the tone for future pacification efforts. 

Washington pledged to help the Saigon government strive to end 

social injustice, improve the economy and living standards, and 

build democracy throughout South Vietnam. The Vietnamese government also pledged to improve the health and education of its 

people, to provide greater military protection for pacification workers, and to care for and rehabilitate refugees. 16 On the American 

side, the president's impatience with the status of pacification was 

demonstrated in his desire to make organization for pacification 

support more cohesive. He assigned Ambassador William Porter, the 

deputy to Ambassador Henry Cabot Lodge, the task of pulling together the Saigon mission's pacification effort. 

Johnson gave Porter wide authority over all aspects of American 

support for the pacification program, but he was in an extremely 

difficult position, because Ambassadors Lodge and Porter did not 

envisage the president's charge in the same way Washington did. If 

Washington thought of Porter as a kind of single manager, he 
130 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

thought of himself as more of a coordinator, someone who suggested 

rather than controlled or commanded. Lodge, while assuring Washington of his intention to tighten the organization for pacification 

support in Saigon, was reluctant to make a formal announcement of 

Porter's appointment as the top executive for U.S. support of pacification. Lodge considered that step unnecessary since the arrangement in his view was already working weU. 17 

A more far-reaching step for U.S. support of pacification was 

taken in Washington. On 28 March President J ohnson appointed 

Robert W. Komer, then a deputy special assistant for national security affairs, as special presidential assistant for supervising from the 

White House Washington's support of pacification. Komer had a 

broad mandate: authority to direct, coordinate, and supervise in 

Washington U.S. nonmilitary programs for peaceful construction in 

Vietnam-the entire "other war"-a purview wider than pacification. His authority extended to military affairs insofar as they affected the "other war," including responsibility for military resources 

in support of civil programs and for assuring that pacification efforts 

were fully coordinated with the deployment of combat forces and the 

conduct of military operations. Even the mission in Saigon had to 

support him. The president made clear that Komer's authority was 

not just proforma, averring that Komer "will have direct access to me 

at all times." 18 As a measure of the president's interest, he challenged 

Komer to "keep those reports coming and let's list some achievements later." 19 

Komer became the most influential advocate of pacification as 

well as the catalyst for reorganizing the American advisory and 

support effort. With a highly visible style of operation and a notorious intolerance of bureaucratic delays, Komer earned the nickname 

"Blowtorch" from Lodge, who was not always appreciative of 

Komer's unorthodox tactics. While serving in the White House, 

Komer contributed to the improvement of pacification in two major 

ways. First, he wasted no time in directing his torch at a number of 

economic problems-notably inflation and port congestion-that 

while strictly speaking were not part of pacification, weakened it and 

hampered the South Vietnamese military and government. Komer's 

second major contribu tion was to help unify civilian and military 

support of pacification.20 

In September Komer began an active campaign to have responsibility for pacification support given to the military. He stressed a 
THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY 131 

number of themes: the Army had the most assets and held in check 

the North Vietnamese military, and pacification required the provision of local security. Komer's campaign succeeded. In November 

the president informed Ambassador Lodge of his dissatisfaction with 

the pace and direction of the pacification effort. He told the civilians 

he was giving them one last chance to succeed, but made clear that 

the only remaining alternative was to give the responsibility to General Westmoreland.21 Most importantly, he made equally clear his 

preference: 

Getting the U.S. military more heavily engaged in refocusing ARVN on the 

heart of the matter [pacification] is one reason why we have seriously 

considered charging MACV with pacification. I hope you will ponder whether 

this is not in the end the best way to achieve the aim you seek. 

I genuinely believe it is-However, I am willing to try out for a time a 

compromise solution.22 

Johnson was as yet reluctant to override civilian objections (those 

of Dean Rusk and Henry Cabot Lodge in particular) to military 

control. The outcome of the president's decision was the Office of 

Civil Operations (OCO), an organization that served as a logical 

transition between multiple and single managerial control of pacification support. 

The Office of Civil Operations, undeniably an improvement over 

previous organizations for pacification support, had no real chance to 

achieve the visible results that would have assuaged such important 

critics as McNamara, Komer, and the president. The problems that 

the pacification program sought to overcome-insecurity and political inclifference to the Saigon government in the countryside-were 

not amenable to quick ftxes, and Lyndon Johnson and his closest 

aides were aware of that. The Office of Civil Operations improved 

supervision of the civil side of pacification support, but it could not 

really manage efforts to provide military security. Hence it failed to 

stern the inexorable drift toward transferring responsibility for pacification to the military. About two months into OCO's trial period, 

Walt W. Rostow, the president's national security adviser, complained to Johnson about four unsolved problems: the absence of 

detailed planning for pacification, province by province; the lack of 

support for pacification from ARVN; the overemphasis of U.S. military operations on attacking enemy base areas; and the lack of coordination from Saigon down to the provinces between military and 

civil elements and between U.S. and South Vietnamese efforts. All 

four problems were as much in MACV's bailiwick as in OCO's.23 
132 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

In May 1967, having given the civilians their chance, the president decided to unify American support of pacification under the 

military. Other changes accompanied that decision. Ellsworth 

Bunker replaced Lodge as ambassador and General Creighton 

Abrams became Westmoreland's military deputy with responsibility 

for improving South Vietnam's forces. The president intended that 

General Abrams help galvanize ARVN and enhance its ability to 

support pacification.24 Johnson's long-standing fear was that the 

Vietnamese would allow the Americans to assume an even larger 

share of the war. It was difficult for the White House to accept 

Westmoreland's requests in the spring of 1967 for 100,000 to 200,000 

more soldiers without, as Komer put it, "first making a crash effort 

to get more for our money out of the 650,000 Vietnamese Forces." 

The Abrams appointment was a clear sign that the president expected the Vietnamese to do more on their own behalf. 25 Komer was 

appointed Westmoreland's deputy for support of pacification. 

In announcing the decision, Bunker stressed that the military was 

getting responsibility for pacification because it was essential to bring 

the U.S. military more fully into the advisory effort and pool civil and 

military resources to get the best results. He made clear that he 

would have full jurisdiction for resolving any interagency disputes 

arising from the change and would strive to see that neither the 

civilians nor the military dominated the new office.26 

Despite the decisions of 1967, the question remains: Why did the 

administration not do more in late 1965 or early 1966 to boost the 

"other war" or to improve U.S. organization supporting pacification? 

Could LBJ have pushed for a CORDS-type organization in 1965 or 

1966? Certainly some people on the NSC staff had that prospect in 

mind. The fact that the president waited untill967 to remedy a basic 

organizational defect raises other questions. Does the lack of cohesive 

organization in Washington and Saigon indicate that Johnson had 

trouble achieving control of the conduct of the war and that he was 

reluctant to risk alienating the State Department or the CIA by 

putting pacification support under the military without the formality 

of a trial period for OCO? Was the president presiding over a precarious consensus within his administration over the conduct of the war, 

or was this system intended deliberately to enhance his power? 

After the president made his decision, the initiative and focus 

passed to the field where programs were to be carried out. The 

first step was to devise a single chain of command that consolidated control of pacification support under General Westmoreland. 
THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY 133 

General Westmoreland made Komer responsible for "supervising 

the formulation and execution of aU plans, policies, and programs, 

military and civilian, which support the government's Revolutionary 

Development program and related programs." The absence of limitations in the directive regarding Komer's role meant that this sphere 

of operations more or less depended on what he could carve out for 

himself. The new organization was named Civil Operations and 

Revolutionary Development Support, CORDS.27 

The unique feature of CORDS was having civilians operating 

fully and directly in a military chain of command. Indeed, Komer 

was tthe first ambassador in U.S. history serving in the chain of 

command under an American military commander and having command responsibility for military personnel and resources. CORDS 

interleaved civilian and military personnel throughout its hierarchy 

down to the province and district advisory teams so that civilians 

would write the performance reports of military people and vice 

versa. At each level pacification advice and support were placed 

under one man. 

Another CORDS coup was to insist on a separate chain of command for pacification advisers in the provinces and districts. U.S. 

Army advisers serving with South Vietnamese Army divisions were 

removed from the pacification chain of command to eliminate the 

subordination of province advisers to combat advisers. CORDS considered the change necessary to get the Vietnamese to focus on 

territorial security through clear-and-hold operations and reduce the 

influence of the division advisers, who often pushed ARVN to conduct large conventional unit search-and-destroy sweeps. To ensure 

that the province adviser actually served as the single manager for 

pacification support in the province and responded only to CORDS' 

direction, CORDS excluded the division advisers from the new organization.28 

CORDS won two additional skirmishes with the MACV staff 

that helped establish the new organization's authority and enhanced 

CORDS' ability to help improve South Vietnamese territorial security, thus addressing a fundamental shortcoming of previous pacification efforts. 

One of CORDS' first achievements was to obtain advisory responsibility for the RF/PF from thej-3 ofMACV, where it had been 

sorely neglected. To provide sustained local security for the villagers, 

Komer and his advisers wanted RF /PF under their tutelage. They 

saw the territorial forces as the key to local security for pacification, 
134 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

and acted quickly to beef up the RF/PF by providing them with 

M-16's, increasing their training, and substantially adding to the 

number of American soldiers advising them. The Regional and Popular Forces were to Komer the most important and underutilized 

South Vietnamese military units. Involving them directly in pacification was to his mind an obvious way to obtain visible results by 

expanding the scope of pacification operations and Saigon's control 

over the population.29 

In September, Komer won Westmoreland's approval for 

strengthening the RF /PF advisory structure by stationing U.S. Army 

advisers with those paramilitary units. According to Maj. Gen. 

George Forsythe, Komer's military deputy who advocated the concept, Mobile Advisory Teams (MATs) moving from unit to unit 

would be the quickest way to improve the RF/PF, provide material 

and moral support, and train the paramilitary on the spot.30 The 

mobile advisory teams moved from one RF /PF unit to another, returning to a home base only to refit and rest. By constantly moving 

from one territorial forces unit to another, the MATs hoped to prevent them from becoming dependent on the presence of Americans, 

as appeared to be the case with the Combined Action Platoons run 

by the U.S. Marines. Mobiljty also permitted better utilization of 

manpower because individual teams could cover more than one village or unit.31 

The second key victory of CORDS was winning Westmoreland's 

approval for a new effort to identify, expose, and dismantle the Viet 

Cong infrastructure, the Communist command and control organization within South Vietnam that provided political and military 

direction to the guerrilla war, engaged in recruiting, subversion, 

terrorism, propaganda, and intelligence gathering, and collected 

taxes and supplies. The infrastructure consisted of political organizers who operated at six basic levels-COSVN, region, province, 

district, village, and hamlet-and performed all governmental functions, including the provision of territorial security. Members of the 

infrastructure frequently served as heads of province guerrilla companies, district platoons, and hamlet squads. A highly structured, 

clandestine bureaucracy, the infrastructure sustained the Communists in their long strug~ e against the government of South Vietnam, 

and collectively constituted the People's Revolutionary Party of 

South Vietnam, the name since 1962 for the Dang Lab Dong or Communist Party of the South. The battle between the infrastructure on 

the one hand and the government's cadre and police on the other was 
THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY 135 

one for political control in South Vietnam. Since the beginning of the 

insurgency, South Vietnamese police and security services had tried 

to attack the infrastructure, but with little success. Although Diem 

had won some victories against the underground in the late 1950s, his 

successors had not. 

Under a new concept advocated by CORDS, the South Vietnamese police took operational responsibility for the antiinfrastructure program. A CORDS official administered American 

advice and support to South Vietnamese police units, particularly 

the Police Field Forces, the Special Branch, and the Provincial Reconnaissance Units. They were to pool their intelligence and mount 

operations against the Communist underground.32 

Despite the objections of his top intelligence officers, Westmoreland endorsed the CORDS plan, which was called Phoenix. In doing 

so he acknowledged that police forces could better generate intelligence and attack the Communist underground than could conventional military forces and that the CIA was more suited than MACV 

intelligence to handle the advisory aspect of the intelligence effort 

against the infrastructure.33 The U.S. commander was willing to try 

an unorthodox approach in rooting out the infrastructure, and his 

decision also marked a significant point in CORDS history. Komer 

later remarked that Westmoreland's ruling did more than give the 

new organization an important role in the war, it put CORDS "in 

business. "34 

No CORDS-supported program came to generate as much controversy as Phoenix. Some, like Komer, criticized the program as a 

fiasco because it did not result in the capture or detention of key 

figures in the underground. Others in the U.S. government and the 

South Vietnamese National Assembly assailed Phoenix because of 

abuses they alleged had occurred in arresting, detaining, and interrogating suspects. 

With the formation of CORDS, the Americans had taken a crucial step in resolving the management and organizational problems 

that had long plagued pacification support. By assuming responsibility for the improvement of the Regional and Popular Forces and by 

taking on the advisory and support role for a concerted attack on the 

infrastructure, CORDS was in a strong position to exert pressure on 

the Saigon government to improve local security and expand the 

pacification program into insecure and contested villages. With the 

establishment of CORDS and the additional funding and manpower that it made available for pacification, the strengthening of the 
136 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSI UM 

territorial forces, and the start of the anti-infrastructure effort, the 

South Vietnamese and the Americans had established the foundation 

of a program that could directly counteract the enemy's pattern of 

activity, and contest his attempt to establish control over the people 

of the countryside. 

Pacification and the Tet Offensive 

Before pacification could make any gains, the Communists 

launched a major offensive during Tet 1968 that set the program 

back. As a result, pacification cadres and security forces spent much 

of 1968 regaining the villages they left during the offensive, and a 

good deal of CORDS' efforts in the first half of 1968 was devoted to 

helping resettle the homeless and rebuild cities damaged by the 

Communist attacks of February and May. 

The offensive had two important consequences for pacification. 

First, the forces of both sides were concentrated in the cities, the 

primary target of the Viet Cong attacks. Second, the offensive was a 

disastrous military undertaking for the Viet Cong. They suffered 

heavy losses, including some of their most seasoned regular forces. As 

a consequence, the Viet Cong were a gravely weakened fighting 

outfit. In 1968 enemy combat losses, including combat deaths, estimated deaths from wounds, prisoners, and defectors, were estimated 

at 262,000, the highest one-year total of the war. One hundred sixtynine thousand enemy soldiers were believed to have died from hostile 

action that year. An estimated 60 percent of Viet Cong and North 

Vietnamese forces in South Vietnam were killed in 1968. Even if, as 

is probable, those losses were overstated by a large margin, they 

would still be very high. 35 The significance of these developments, as 

Komer recognized in the spring of 1968, was that the pacification 

program now had a chance to make appreciable gains by rapidly 

expanding into the areas that the weakened Viet Cong could no 

longer hold. He perceived a vacuum in the countryside and was 

instrumental in persuading the South Vietnamese in the fall of 1968 

to undertake a special offensive, the Accelerated Pacification Campaign (APC), of whose several goals the most prominent was to make 

1,000 contested hamlets "relatively secure," a category measured by 
THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY 137 

the Hamlet Evaluation System (HES) that CORDS used to gauge 

trends in population security. 

Komer could advocate a special campaign because as the head of 

CORDS, an organization that subsumed military and civilian programs, he was the single manager of pacification support and could 

help ensure that a special effort did not founder because of insufficient technical or logistical assistance or from conflicting advice from 

American military and civilian officials. As the deputy to the American military commander and part of the military chain of command, 

he was in a position to obtain American support, which he did, for 

the accelerated campaign. Since it alone represented American interests in pacification support, CORDS also proved effective in getting 

the South Vietnamese to draft a national pacification plan for the 

special offensive that integrated all pacification programs and the 

activities of the various South Vietnamese ministries into a cohesive 

campaign. That document was a distinct improvement over previous 

pacification plans, which too often were vague and poorly coordinated. The Vietnamese could carry out the special campaign because, partly thanks to CORDS' efforts, they had enough territorial 

forces to enter and attempt to make secure the 1,000 hamlets. 

The Accelerated Pacification Campaign represented a turning 

point for the pacification program. One key measurement, population security as reported by the Hamlet Evaluation System, illustrated the magnitude of the change. At the end of 1967, HES reported 42 percent of the people were living in areas considered 

secure. By the end of 1969, that figure had reached 71 percent, a gain 

of over 4 million additional people dwelling in territory controlled by 

the government. Even if the specific numbers are viewed with justifiable skepticism as being overstated, the direction and extent of the 

trend remains significant and favorable. 36 Improved security had 

other benefits for the pacification program. Roads, bridges, and 

canals were reopened and repaired and helped stimulate a rural 

economic revival. Food production and the amount of land under 

cultivation rose dramatically, reducing South Vietnam's reliance on 

rice imports and bringing new prosperity to farmers. The government encouraged families to return to their home villages, many 

previously under Viet Cong control. Improved security also allowed 

the government in 1970 to embark on a massive land reform effort 

that distributed 2.5 million acres of land to 800,000 tenant farm 

families between 1970 and 1973.37 
138 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

The relationship between pacification and the Tet offensive raises 

two large issues. One is the effective application of leverage on the 

government of South Vietnam. Komer and his staff devised a plan for 

a counteroffensive, won the support of Ambassador Bunker and General Abrams, and the three of them persuaded President Thieu to 

embark on an expansion of pacification when his instincts previously 

were to consolidate his grip on what was already in his hands. The 

APC is an important example of American influence and illustrates 

the interplay of the American and South Vietnamese leadership. 

A second issue is the problem of measuring results in pacification 

in a persuasive manner. Nearly all pacification statistics indicated 

that the APC was successful, but MACV's hope that a successful 

counteroffensive would dispel the notion of a stalemated war was not 

realized. The statistics did not persuade the public or even some 

government agencies, notably the CIA and the State Department. 

They conceded that pacification had made progress during the APC, 

but remained convinced that the gains were fragile and reversible. 

Pacification thus suffered from a critical credibility problem that 

dogged it until the end of the war. The statistical indices for the 

period l 969-1972 show steady progress in weakening the insurgents. 

That the North Vietnamese resorted to large-scale invasions in 1972 

and 1975 to end the war instead of resuming the pattern of insurgent 

fighting used earlier can be viewed as evidence that pacification was 

effective at least in controlling the insurgency to the point where it 

was unable seriously to threaten the Saigon government. The final 

irony may be that proof of progress in pacification was not fully 

persuasive in the United States, but, judging from the behavior of 

Communist military forces in l 975, seemed real enough to the North 

Vietnamese. 

The foundation for pacification's relative success after the 1968 

Tet offensive was laid earlier. The dramatic improvement in the 

Saigon government's position in the countryside was the real payoff 

for the reorganized American support effort and the buildup of the 

South Vietnamese forces providing population security. Sir Robert 

Thompson, an astute student of counterinsurgency and a longtime 

observer ofVietnam, noted after a visit to South Vietnam in October 

1969, "Not only was I able to visit areas and walk through villages 

which had been under VietCong control for years, but I had never 

felt so relaxed when travelling around the country."38 Thompson's 

cautiously optimistic judgment would have been impossible without 
THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY 139 

the rejuvenation of pacification that was made attainable by the 

reorganization of and increase in American support as well as the 

buildup of South Vietnam's territorial forces. 

NOTES 

I. Thomas C. Thayer, "How to Analyze a War Without Fronts: Vietnam 1965-

72," journal of DejtnSe Research 7B (Fall 1975}, prepared by Batelle Columbus Labo--

ratories for the Advanced Research Projects Agency of the Dept. of Defense (Washington: Government Printing Office}. 

2. Ibid., ch. 3. 

3. Ibid., p. 807. 

4. Ibid., pp. 850, 887. 

5. Ibid., pp. 848, 850. 

6. Ronald H. Spector, Aduice and Support: The Early Years, /941- 1960 (Washington: 

Government Printing Office, 1983), p. 378. 

7. United States-Vietnam Relations, 12 vols. (Washington: Government Printing 

Office, 1971), vol. 2, pt. IV, sees. 4 and 5; Dennis J . Duncanson, Couemment and 

Revolution in Vietnam (New York: Oxford University Press, 1968), pp. 281, 289-93. 

8. This section is based on T homas W. Scoville, "United States Organization for 

Pacification Advice and Support in Vietnam," unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, 

Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 1976, and on my extensive research in the 

voluminous archives of the LBJ Library. The Center of Military History published 

a condensed version of Scoville's work in a monograph entitled, Reorgani(.ing for 

Pacification Support (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1982}. Unless otherwise cited, material in this section comes from this work. The history of the pacification program is treated in depth in my forthcoming work, Pacification: Managing 

the "Other War," the first of two volumes on the subject. 

9. Memo, Bundy for the President, 7 Feb 65, sub: The Situation in Vietnam; 

Msg, Draft j oint State/Defense/AID/USIA/CIA to Saigon, 24 Feb 65, copies in 

CMH files. 

10. Memo, Cooper for McGeorge Bundy, 29 Oct 65, sub: Organization Arrangements for Vietnam Affairs, w/attachment: Draft Memo, copy in CMH files. 

II. Msg, Bundy to the President, 24 Dec 65, copy in CMH files. 

12. Draft Memo, McNamara for the President, 4 Dec 65, sub: Military and 

Political Actions Recommended for South Vietnam, copy in CMH files; Draft 

Memo, McNamara for the President, 3 Nov 65, sub: Courses of Action in Vietnam; 

Memo, McNamara for the President, 30 Nov 65; Memo, McNamara for the President, 6 Dec 65, sub: Military and Political Action Recommended for South Viemam, 

copies in CMH files. 

13. Lyndon B. johnson, Tlu Vantage Point, (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 

1971), pp. 249, 258-59; Memo, McGeorge Bundy for the President, 14Jan 66, sub: 

Top Level Reorganization in Saigon, copy in CMH files. 

14. l nterv, Paige Mulholland with Chester Cooper, 17 J ul 69, Oral History 

Project, LBJ Library. 
140 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

15. The Senator Gravel Edition of the Pentagon Papers: The Defense Department History of 

United States DecisWn Making on Vietnam, 4 vols. (Boston: Beacon Press, 1971 ), 2: 543 

(hereafter cited as PPG}. 

16. Memo, Bromley Smith, NSC Staff, for President Johnson, 15 Feb 66; Msg, 

Personal for Ambassador Lodge from the President, State 2368, 12 Feb 66; Memos, 

White House Press Secretary, 8 Feb 66, sub: Text of Joint Communique, and 8 Feb 

66, sub: Declaration of Honolulu, copies in CMH files. PPG, 2: 552. 

17. Msg, Lodge to the President, Saigon 2959, 15 Feb 66, in CMH files. 

18. National Security Action Memorandum 343, drafted by Komer, cited in PPG, 

2: 568. Komer was authorized to draw support from the secretaries of State, Defense, 

Treasury, Agriculture, and Health Education and Welfare, the administrator of 

AID, and the directors of Central Intelligence and the U.S. Information Agency. 

19. Memo, Komer for the President, 26 Mar 66, copy in CMH files. On Rusk's 

reluctance, see Memo, Komer for the President, 28 Mar 66, copy in CMH files. 

20. Komer's voice was not the only one crying for better organization of the 

pacification effort. An Army study called PROVN, short for Program for the Pacification and Long Term Development of Vietnam, was another. That study, undertaken by a select group of offi cers at the behest of General Harold K. J ohnson, the 

Army chief of staff, exhaustively analyzed the whole Vietnam situation. PROVN 

made a series of detailed and explicit recommendations on American organization: 

that a Washington executive agent coordinate Vietnam support activities in the 

United States; that the American ambassador become the single manager in Vietnam with two coequal deputies-one for U.S. military forces and the other for 

pacification support; and that there should be a single American representative or 

chief at each level in the field below those deputies. PROVN concluded that pacification should be designated as the major American and South Vietnamese effort. 

The study never received McNamara's endorsement and MACV also rejected it, 

but some of its recommendations were harbingers of future actions. Komer found a 

number ofPROVN's recommendations sound, particularly unified management in 

tlrae field and in Washington. These served as a source of some of the proposals he 

later carried out (PPG, 2: 576-580). 

21. Msg, Rusk, McNamara, and Komer to Lodge, State 78865, 4 Nov 66, LBJ 

Library, NSF, Nodis, vol. 4. 

22. Ltr, J ohnson to Lodge, 16 Nov 66, copy in CMH files. Emphasis in original 

copy on which J ohnson added a handwritten note to Lodge and instructed Komer 

in regard to the letter to "Rush Double Rush." Memo, Komer for the President, ibid. 

23. Memo, Rostow for the President, 26Jan 67, copy in CMH files. 

24. Memo, Komer for Rostow, 3 Apr 67, Porter's msg attached, copy in CMH 

files. 

25. Msg,Johnson to Lodge, State 179530, 21 Apr 67, Nodis, vol. 5; Msg,Johnson 

to Bunker, State 183042, 26 Apr 67, vol. 6; Msg, Komer to the President, 27 Apr 67. 

Copies in CMH files. 

26. Memo, Komer for Bunker, 6 May 67, draft messages to the President are 

attached; Draft Memo, Bunker for Komer and Westmoreland, 6 May 67, Komer 

drafted this; Memo, Komer for Bunker, 5 May 67, copies in CMH files. 

27. HQ MACV Directive 10-12,28 May 67, sub: Organizations and Functions 

for Civil Operations and Revolutionary Development Support, copy in CMH ftles. 

28. Interview with Robert Komer, Rand Limited Document, D(L}-20104-

ARPA, 7 May 70, p. 62. 

29. Ibid., p. 63. 

30. MFR, MACCORDS PP-RDS, 28 Sep 67, sub: IV Corps Advisers, 

DepCORDS files. 
THE CHALLENGE OF COUNTERINSURGENCY 141 

31. Msg, COMUSMACV to Deputy COMUSMACV, 120613z Oct 67, sub: 

Requirements IV Corps; DF, MACJ-3 to Chief of Staff, 8 Nov 67, sub: Concept of 

Deployment of MATs; Msg, COMUSMACV to Commanding General USARV, 

MAC 38651, 280845z Nov 67, copies in CMH Chron files. 

32. Memo, Komer for Kerwin, 5Jun 67, sub: Attack on the VCI; Memo, Komer 

for J-2, 3 j un 67, sub: Attack on the VCI, DepCORDS files. 

33. Memo, Westmoreland for Komer, 16 Jun 67. 

34. Scoville interview with Komer, 6 Nov 69, cited in Scoville, Reorganizing for 

Paci.ficq,tion, ch. 6. 

35. Thayer, "How to Analyze a War Without Fronts," ch. 10, p. 851. 

36. Ibid., p. 876. 

37. Ibid., p. 882; Sir Robert Thompson, Peace is Not at Hand (New York: McKay, 

1974), pp. 67, 72. 

38. Thompson, Peace is Not at Hand, p. 7 I. 

The Dual-Track Strategy of 

Vietnamization and Negotiation 

Allan E. Goodman 

I 

One of the central lessons of Vietnam is the importance-and 

difficulty-of coordinating force with diplomacy during limited 

wars. The North Vietnamese did this by pursuing a strategy of (in 

their parlance) "fighting while negotiating," using diplomacy to protract the war, weaken the U.S. will, and demoralize the South Vietnamese government and army. Their purpose was to gain at the 

bargaining table what they could not achieve on the battlefield. This 

strategy worked briJliantly. 

The U.S. pursued a dual-track strategy of Vietnamization and 

negotiations. This strategy was, according to Henry Kissinger, 

"what the President meant when he said he had a 'plan to end the 

war"' and was designed to offer the U.S. "a prospect of honorable 

disengagement that was not hostage to the other side's cooperation."1 The Vietnamization component aimed at building up the 

South Vietnamese forces so that they would represent "a strong, 

independent fighting force capable of holding its own against the 

communists. "2 The prospect of facing such an army, Nixon and 

Kissinger reasoned, should cause the North Vietnamese to negotiate 

seriously; if it did not, then the U.S. would have given the Saigon 

government the means to win the war on its own. In terms of U.S. 

domestic politics, moreover, Vietnamization made it possible to 

withdraw American forces from combat. It not only thereby helped 

reduce pressure on the administration to get out altogether but also 

143 
144 SECOND I N DOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

corrected for the U.S. tendency during thejohnson administration to 

try to win the war ourselves "instead of recognizing that our mission 

should have been to help the South Vietnamese build up their forces 

so that they could win the war. »3 

U.S. strategy did not work well. The purpose of this essay is to 

review why this was the case and to discuss how a repeat performance can be avoided, especially as the U.S. deepens its involvement 

in limited wars in Central America and the Middle East. 

II 

Before I do this I wish to insert a note about the tone of the paper 

and much of what has been recently written looking back on Vietnam. Without being quite able to correct myself, I find what I have 

written too confidently pessimistic. The mood at the time covered in 

this paper (1969- 1973) was indeed filled with pessimism but also 

laced with emotion and hope that somehow the South Vietnamese 

aUy would pull itself together politically, reform its military, and 

prove viable once the U.S. completed withdrawing. And, as I will 

suggest later, there were grounds for such hopes. So it is essential to 

caveat historical writing on this period by confessing that while there 

was profound doubt about whether the dual-track strategy would 

work-and about whether either of its components would prove 

viable-most analysts were just a little bit less confident that our 

gloomy forecasts would prove correct. 

III 

Despite the publication of a large amount of hitherto secret material on the origins and rationale for the dual-track strategy of Vietnamization and negotiation, nothing new has yet come to light to 

contradict the official explanations given at the time or the doubts 

that most officials had about how well it would work.4 

As President Nixon told Congress in November 1970, Vietnamization had a distinguished lineage and was a proper and natural 
VIETNAMIZATION AND NEGOTIATION 145 

response to the situation in Vietnam. In asking for the funds to build 

up the South Vietnamese Army, Mr. Nixon said: 

The overwhelming evidence of the last twenty-five years-from the Marshall Plan to Vietnamization-is that a systematic program that helps other 

nations harness their own resources for defense and development enables 

them to take on the primary burden of their own defense. 

Helping countries that demonstrate the capability to help themselves enables us to reduce our direct overseas involvement; it eases our budgetary 

and balance of payments burdens; and it lessens the likelihood of the engagement of American forces. 5 

As such, Vietnamization was part of Nr. Nixon's overall plan to 

end the war. As he later reflected: 

Our goals were to: 

-Reverse the "Americanization" of the war that had occurred from 1965 

to 1968 and concentrate instead on Vietnamization. 

-Give more priority to pacification so that the South Vietnamese could be 

better able to extend their control over the countryside. 

-Reduce tbe invasion threat by destroying enemy sanctuaries and supply 

lines in Cambodia and Laos. 

-Withdraw the half million American troops from Vietnam in a way that 

would not bring about a collapse in the south. 

-Negotiate a cease-fire and a peace treaty. 

-Demonstrate our willingness and determination to stand by our ally if the 

peace agreement was violated by Hanoi, and assure South Vietnam that it 

would continue to receive our military aid as Hanoi did from its allies, the 

Soviet Union and, to a lesser extent, China.6 

Mr. Nixon hoped the elements of the strategy would interrelate 

in the following way: "If the enemy feels that we are going to stay 

there long enough for the South Vietnamese to be strong enough to 

handle their own defense, then I think they have a real incentive to 

negotiate, because if they have to negotiate with a strong, vigorous 

South Vietnamese government, the deal they make with them isn't 

going to be as good as the deal they might make now. "7 

There is no question today that Vietnamization de-Americanized 

the war. Within seven months of the adoption of the policy in 1969, 

some 115,000 U.S. troops had been withdrawn from combat in and 

then from South Vietnam itself. By the end of May 1971, more than 

365,000 U.S. soldiers had left Vietnam and the casualty rate had 

dropped by a factor of five.8 There is almost no question that it 

resulted in increased priority for pacification, and there is hardly any 

debate about whether the U.S. remained willing to attack the North 

Vietnamese-in the South or in Laos and Cambodia-wherever the 
146 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Saigon government needed help or faced overwhelming conventional 

threats which it was still too weak to handle. In virtually all that has 

been published during and since the war, I am in fact struck by the 

conclusion that Vietnamization was probably the correct and appropriate course under the circumstances for the U.S. to take short of a 

total and precipitate withdrawal without regard for its impact on the 

South Vietnamese ally. There is also no mystery about why it didn't 

work or work well in coordination with diplomacy. 

IV 

At the White House level there were no illusions about the difficulty or inherent riskiness at the time of adopting the dual-track 

strategy described above. This is made clear both in Kissinger's 

memoirs and, more importantly, in the memos he and others prepared on the risks and shortcomings of such a strategy. 

The essence of their assessments is captured in one particular 

memo that Kissinger sent to the president in September 1971 

"summing up where we stood on Vietnam diplomacy." Kissinger 

pointed out that Vietnamization "was inherently precarious." 

I fit were played out to the end, a delicate point would inevitably be reached 

where our withdrawals would create uncertainty about South Vietnam's 

political future, jeopardizing the whole enterprise at the final hour .... 

But, my analysis continued, we now found ourselves with our negotiating 

assets wasting. Vietnamization, for all the anguish caused by protests, had 

bought time at home with the steady reduction of American forces, casualties, and expenses. And it had generated two pressures on Hanoi. First, 

the measured pace of our withdrawal conveyed to the North Vietnamese 

that if they wanted us to leave quickly or totally, they would have to pay a 

price. Second, it evoked the prospect that eventually a strengthened South 

Vietnamese government would be able to stand on its own. Unfortunately, 

I reasoned, our first asset had all but withered away. Domestic pressures 

and the indiscipline of the bureaucracy combined to assure the North Vietnamese in an almost daily and compulsive manner that we would be completely out of Vietnam soon. Why should they pay for what would fall into 

their laps? 

Until the autumn of 1971 it seemed that our second asset- the growing 

strength of Saigon-was still giving Hanoi serious pause. The South Vietnamese government had maintained a remarkable degree of stability. The 

irony was that this stability was now threatened because of the accident of 
VIETNAMIZATION AND NEGOTIATION 147 

the four-year presidential term that Americans had helped write into the 

Constitution. In South Vietnam, the combination of presidential election, 

major llJ.S. withdrawals, and domeslic dissidence was causing the currents 

of unrest to flow again. Some within the Thieu administration and the army 

were beginning to hedge their bets and burnish their credentials for the Viet 

Cong.9 

With respect to the very strong doubts that negotiations would 

lead to a genuine and lasting political settlement, moreover, 

Dr. Kissinger's personal assistant, Peter Rodman, observed that at 

the time "Both sides [i.e., the U.S. and GVN versus the DRY and 

PRG] were gambling on the future and gambling that they would 

maintain enough control over their own instruments of power to 

shape it (a political settlement] or to prevent it from collapsing 

. . .. we were taking probably a bigger risk." Rodman and others 

believed, again at the time, that the Paris agreement would contribute to such a settlement, especially because it granted the U.S. 

the right of essentially unlimited resupply of the South Vietnamese 

and because the possibility of U.S. reintervention was real. In short, 

"The Paris agreement for all its risks we thought was sustainable." IO 

The point here, of course, is that at the time there were no illusions 

about the risks inherent in the situation or about how central some 

form of continued U.S. presence and commitment was. 

The perception in the field of the efficacy of Vietnamization, 

however, was another matter. Caution and pessimism faded the 

farther one traveled from Washington. In Saigon and especially 

among the American advisory corps in the countryside, Vietnamization was hailed as a success. The main proof of this was the ability 

of South Vietnamese armed forces to repel successive dry season 

offensives by regular Communist forces. Thus in the field, the adoption of Vietnamization led to a period of "new optimism"; by 1971, 

in fact, most U.S. officials believed that Saigon could win the war and 

that a negotiated settlement might not be necessary. 

The case for the new optimism was based largely on fact. Security 

conditions had dramatically improved throughout South Vietnam 

and decidedly in the government's favor. The question was whether 

the South Vietnamese could sustain, especially in an environment of 

declining U.S. support, their preeminence once the Viet Gong and 

the North Vietnamese recovered from the failure of the Tet offensive 

and the U.S. and South Vietnamese incursions into Cambodia and 

Laos. 

To my mind then (and now) much depended on the army. And 

I was deeply pessimistic. The RVNAF was an army I had a chance 
148 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

to study well. Through contacts in Saigon and under the auspices of 

the Rand Corporation, I did a detailed analysis of service records of 

the RVNAF officer corps with two questions in mind: What explained who got promoted? And did armed forces service and schooling actually predict who got what post when governments 

changed?1 1 The overwhelming conclusion of such research was that 

the armed forces ran on corruption and favoritism rather than professionalism. This opinion was shared widely at working levels throughout the Pentagon, whi ch concluded in its own assessment of the 

RVNAF: "Without major reforms within the RVNAF command and 

selection system .. .it is unlikely that the RVNAF as presently organized and led will ever constitute an effective political or military 

counter to the Viet Cong."12 

But this assessment was staunchly disputed and dismissed in the 

field, where indications of progress abounded. And so we had a 

curious reversal of roles: The people in the field-by virtue of their 

proximity to the action-actually knew less about RVNAF capabilities over the long term than those at home who were less in touch 

with conditions and day-to-day performance. 

Part of the illusion about the RVNAF stemmed from the fact that 

the U.S. advisers on the ground were on their second or third voluntary tours in Vietnam. They wanted the GVN to succeed, and 

RVNAF, in particular, did look and perform better as a fighting force 

compared to their first tours as advisers. As suggested before, moreover, the enemy was not by any means lying low during this time; 

and so, real improvement in capabilities against an unrelenting foe 

convinced many that Vietnamization was working and offered, if not 

military victory, the leverage to exact a political settlement from 

Hanoi. 

What was illusion here was not what the U.S. advisers in the field 

saw, but the assumption that they and RVNAF generals made that 

the U.S. would {with everything from economic aid to bombs) back 

Saigon until the North Vietnamese withdrew, negotiated a political 

settlement, or were defeated. Once U.S. backing was withdrawn 

from the equation-i.e., in the wake of Watergate and with passage 

of the Cambodian bombing funds cutoff resolution-RVNAF effectiveness and confidence declined dramatically. That it did so at a 

time when the NV A and other Communist forces operating in the 

South were not particularly strong or by their own reckoning in 

position to deliver a final blow suggests just how significant the U.S. 

posture was to whether Vietnamization would work. 
VIETNAMIZATION AND NEGOTIATION 149 

But of absolutely critical importance to the success or failure of 

Vietnamization was the degree to which the RVNAF could reform 

itself. In the various postmortems written by the South Vietnamese 

officers who fled to the U.S. it is the absence of such reform-as 

much as America's waning will to go on with funding the war-that 

is identified as the major cause of the failure ofVietnarnization. In a 

most frank and succinct assessment, one South Vietnamese colonel 

put it this way: 

Vietnamization was more than modernization, and expansion of the 

RVNAF; it was essentially a strategy that would require the Vietnamese to 

survive with greatly reduced American participation. Had President Thieu 

and the joint General Staff fully realized this fact, perhaps they would have 

begun then to build a strategy to cope with it. Instead, the RVNAF made 

no adjustments in doctrine, organization or training to compensate for the 

departure of American troops and firepower. 13 

That the North Vietnamese achieved victory with their 1975 

offensive was a surprise even to them. But the inherent weaknesses 

in Saigon's army and political system and the ability and willingness 

of the North to keep fighting for unification made such a victory 

almost inevitable. While, therefore, the perception in 1975 that the 

end ofU .S. support for the war was at hand hastened the demoralization of Saigon's army, it was only one of several proximate causes of 

the debacle. Hard and cruel as it may seem because of what followed, 

U.S. policy did not lose South Vietnam. The Saigon government did 

that itself. 

v 

Thus, it is still possible to argue that the approach ofVietnamization was not only politically expedient but also fundamentally correct. It was a necessary and reasonable adjustment to U.S. policy at 

the time. 

The lesson here is that we cannot fight struggles on behalf of an 

ally incapable of doing the job. Even vast amounts of military aid, 

training, and on-the-spot advice cannot transform a politicized army 

into an effective fighting force. Hence, we should be sure that those 

armies we do support are committed to the same goals we are, and 

we should be prepared to cut our aid and support without hesitation 
150 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

the moment the leadership shows any signs of wavering in that 

commitment. 

This lesson has not sunk in. 

It is hard, therefore, to observe the deepening U.S. involvement 

in Central America without a profound sense of deja vu. While the 

sources of the insurgencies are profoundly different in Central America as compared to Vietnam, the United States may be pursuing the 

same risky path to deal with the situation. We are following a dualtrack strategy of El Salvadorizing the military struggle-a policy 

directly descended from Vietnamization and the Nixon doctrineand simultaneously searching for a negotiated settlement. Our posture is credible neither to our allies nor to our adversaries. Having 

declared the outcome of the struggle in El Salvador a vital interest, 

we have allied ourselves with a cause that may be fundamentally 

flawed and may have piqued the interest of our Cuban and Soviet 

adversaries in trying to involve us once again in the kind of protracted war we are least likely to be able to sustain, fight, or bring to 

a settlement. 

To say never again to such situations and conflicts is the wrong 

lesson to draw from the Vietnam experience. To choose carefully 

when, where, why, and how we become involved comes closer to the 

mark. We cannot isolate or insulate ourselves from third world conflicts, but we should think through our commitments and strategy. 

We should not adopt strategies like Vietnamization only to make the 

best of a bad situation, but we should assess at the outset of our 

involvement the potential for our ally to perform up to our expectations and requirements. If we are at odds with the ally about objectives at the outset, and then become committed, we lose much of our 

leverage to promote reform. For from that time onward, our ally can 

always argue that to do what we want (e.g., land reform or depoliticizing the army) would cause its political demise. 

VI 

Unfortunately, another lesson to be drawn from the Vietnam 

experience is that the U.S. appears particularly ill suited to follow 

dual-track strategies such as those which require us to fight and 

negotiate during a limited war. In the case ofVietnam, our adversary 

whipsawed us by negotiating while fighting, and domestic political 
VIETNAMIZATION AND NEGOTIATION 151 

realities required a constant downward adjustment in our goals. 

Hence, military threats and even victories never could be translated 

into bargaining leverage. This is not to say that we are basically 

unable to use force. But this finding does highJjght the fact that we 

are unable to sustain the use of force abroad for very long in less than 

world war circumstances and that its effect is greatly weakened if we 

are continually telling the adversary that we are ready to negotiate 

and then make unilateral concessions as a sign of good faith. 

Much has been written that is critical of the miHtary and its 

tactics in Vietnam; Httle has been written about our diplomats and 

their instincts. In 1984 it is important to remember that our military 

commanders from the generals on down told us we could not win 

using the strategy we did. The failure really lay in the successive 

administrations who asked the military to try anyway and in the 

American style of negotiation. Unilateral concessions, open-ended 

offers, and an almost automatic desire to talk rather than fight make 

us particularly vulnerable to adversaries who use negotiations to buy 

time and weaken our will and in situations where time is not on our 

side. Communist negotiators, especially, have come to play on these 

weaknesses and use them to advantage in not only diplomatic but 

economic and commercial bargaining as well. 

What is also striking about the American approach to negotiations is its amateur quality. Despite the fact that U.S. foreign policy 

often employs the dual-track approach used in Vietnam, we expect 

our diplomats to learn negotiating largely on the job. Soldiers train 

for their jobs and constantly rehearse the use of tactics. Diplomats 

should be taught to do the same. Such professional training would 

not, of course, reduce the many domestic pressures and interests 

which constrain our foreign policy and the room for diplomats to 

maneuver, but it might make our diplomats even at the highest levels 

more sensitive to when and under what circumstances they should 

recommend negotiating rather than fighting or stonewalling. Some of 

this training is already being done at the U.S. Foreign Service Institute on an elective basis. Learning the fundamentals of the art of 

negotiating should, however, be a required component in the formation of all American diplomats. 

In apportioning responsibilities for what went wrong with the 

dual-track strategy ofVietnamization and negotiation we have both 

ourselves and our ally to blame. The more that is published about the 

Vietnam experience, the stronger my conviction is that successive 

administrations did their best to salvage a bad situation. Illusions 
152 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

were few, and none should be regarded now as the principal explanation for the outcome. But there were fundamental realities working 

against us that just could not be overcome, especially in terms of our 

capacity to sustain a negotiating-while-fighting strategy. The way to 

avoid a repeat performance is less apparent given all the interests 

that require our involvement in conflicts abroad. But this much is 

clear based on the Vietnam experience: to Sun Tzu's classic dictum 

on the art of war-know yourself, know your enemy; a thousand 

battles, a thousand victories-we should add: "know your ally." For 

if there is not a reasonable chance at the outset of a conflict that our 

ally can do the job, it is doubtful that our aid and commitment will 

last long enough to make it happen. 

NOTES 

I. Henry A. Kissinger, Whiu House Years (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1979), 

p. 306. 

2. Richard M. Nixon, The Real. War (Warner Books, 1980), p. 107. 

3. Ibid., p. 106. 

4. See for example, the treatment ofVietnamization in Stanley Karnow, Vietnam: 

A History (New York: Penguin, 1983); George C. Herring, America's Longest War: The 

United States and Vietnam (New York: John Wiley&. Sons, 1979); and Guenter Lewy, 

America in Vietnam (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980). 

5. Message to Congress Proposing Supplemental Foreign Assistance Appropriations, 18 Nov 70. 

6. Nixon, The Real War, p. I 06. 

7. Richard M. Nixon, A New Road for America (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 

1972) p. 681. 

8. Richard M. Nixon, Indochina Progress Report: An Assessment of Vietnami<;atum 

(Washington: T he White House, April 1971), p. 2. 

9. Kissinger, White House Years, pp. 1038-39. 

10. Quoted in "Discussion" in Peter Braestrup, ed., Vietnam as History (Washington: University Press of America, 1981) pp. 66-67. 

II. An Institutional Profile of the South Vietnamese Officer Corps (Santa Monica, Calif.: 

The Rand Corp., 1970). 

12. Excerpted from the "Military Community" assessment of RVNAF in National Security Study Memorandum I (1969) as printed in the New York Times, 26 

Apr 72. 

13. Quoted in Col. Harry Summers, On Strategy: A Critical Anagsis of the Vietnam 

War (Monterey, Calif.: Presidio Press, 1982), p. 176. For additional comments on 

RVNAF performance, see Stephen T. Hosmer et al., The Fall of South Vietnam: 

Statements by Vietnamese Military and Civilian uadns (New York: Crane, Russak, 1980), 

pp. 87-123, and General Cao Van Vien, The Final Collapse (Washington: U.S. Army 

Center of Military History, 1983), pp. 154-55. 
Commentary 

Bruce Palmer, Jr. 

Professor Pike's thoughtful paper on the strategic aspects of the 

Second Indochina War focuses on the 1965- 1968 time frame but 

presents the subject in the strategic continuum of the entire war. 

Perhaps his principal conclusion is that the United States never 

reached the point of true strategic analysis, this being particularly 

pertinent with respect to the 1966-1967 period, when the United 

States committed its conventional military power in Vietnam but 

treated the war as largely a technological exercise. I support this 

judgment. Internal debate within the U.S. government at the time of 

the commitment of major American ground combat troops in July 

1965 was intense but relatively brief and superficial. More importantly, it was inconclusive with respect to how precisely the United 

States would fight the war. There was no full-blown review by the 

Johnson administration of our strategic conduct of the war until the 

immediate aftermath of the enemy offensive during Tet 1968. This 

was followed later by another intense review in early 1969 by the new 

Nixon administration. By this time the U.S. had been directly involved in Indochina for almost two decades. But as a government we 

had not thought through the strategic implications of our commitment and had not hammered out the human and material cost we 

were willing to pay to achieve our stated objective. 

In examining this conspicuous absence of thought-a failure of 

intellect-Professor Pike concludes that it stemmed from an unconscious arrogance: We Americans could accomplish anything we set 

out to do. It was also a matter of typical American idealism seeming 

to block out reality. Yet the truth is that the United States was 

basically ignorant about the enemy's character and strategy. A few 

intelligence analysts and thinkers like Pike understood the enemy 

and his strategic thinking, but very few U.S. leaders, military or 

civilian, fully grasped the significance of a distinctly different scheme 

153 
154 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

of warfare tailored to Vietnam. Further, Pike points out, the United 

States had no effective organization, no system to integrate all U.S. 

military, political, mass communications, and other efforts aimed 

towards the same objective and intermeshed with South Vietnamese 

governmental activities. Without such a system, our side was at a 

great disadvantage in opposing an apparat designed to support a 

totally integrated strategy encompassing all military and nonmilitary 

actions in one seamless web. In Saigon the U.S. side and the government of South Vietnam had continuous difficulty with the problem 

of coordinating allied efforts and never solved it satisfactorily, although the adoption of the CORDS concept within MACV's cognizance in 1967 made considerable progress in developing a coherent 

pacification program. But there were other areas of fundamental 

importance, such as intelligence, where we never achieved unity of 

effort. CIA and MACV intelligence in Vietnam were autonomous 

and consequently often competed with each other, causing friction, 

duplication, and sometimes confusion, particularly with respect to 

coordinated U.S.-South Vietnamese intelligence programs conducted concurrently within separate military and civilian structures. 

The role of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in this absence of strategic 

decision came up this morning. Recall that by statutory law one of 

their roles is strategic planning. But remember the chiefs do not make 

strategic decisions nor do they conduct the strategic direction of the 

war. This is a civilian prerogative of the commander in chief. I was 

operations deputy for the Army during the 1964-1965 period when 

these major decisions were being made. In terms of the decision on 

the air war, although you will find on the record that the Joint Chiefs 

were unanimously in agreement, in fact there was a very deep split. 

The Army did not agree that bombing North Vietnam would produce the desired results, and the Navy wasn't too sure about it. It 

was the Air Force and the Marine Corps that were the tough proponents of air power. It was General Wheeler who talked the other 

chiefs into submitting an agreed paper on the theory that if we 

submitted a split paper this would hand over a basic military judgment to the secretary of defense and put him in a difficult spot of 

having to make the decision, him and the president. A unanimous 

paper, he said, was better than a split one. I maintain thal this was 

wrong on something as fundamental as this, and that the chiefs did 

basically a disservice to the president. I think that they should have 

pointed out what the split was and shown it very specifically. Now 

when we got into a debate among the chiefs on the question of 
COMMENTARY 155 

committing U.S. ground troops, this did not come to a head until 

February or March 1965 when a group of senior people including 

myself visited Vietnam and came back with the conclusion that the 

ARVN was demoralized and that if the United States did not intervene on the ground, South Vietnam would soon go down the tube. 

Remember now, they were not recommending that we should do 

this, they were simply stating the judgment that if the U.S. wanted 

to save South Vietnam it was going to have to go ahead and do it. It 

was after that that the chiefs made their first recommendation for a 

commitment of American ground forces. It was not until later that 

summer, around August or September, that the chiefs came in with 

their first comprehensive strategic concept on how to conduct the 

war. My problem with that concept was that it wrapped up everything you could possibly think of: it included a sustained strategic 

bombing offensive against North Vietnam; it contained a commitment to use U.S. forces to help the South Vietnamese handle the 

problem oflocal forces, guerrillas, etc., in South Vietnam; it included 

land and air actions in the Laotian panhandle and along the DMZ 

to interdict the flow of people and material down the Ho Chi Minh 

Trail. It also included a mining blockade of Haiphong. This idea of 

physical blocking along the DMZ and extending into Laos was not 

proposed by the chiefs as an alternative strategy. It was part of a 

much larger strategy that included many other military actions. It 

wasn't the theater commander who was supposed to decide the strategy that the nation would follow. This was to be done by the commander in chief with heads of state in combineq discussions with 

military chiefs as we did in World War II. They were to make the 

basic strategic decisions and then pass them on to the theater commanders to carry out. But in this instance Washington never made 

any basic decisions on the strategic concept. And that left Westmoreland in Vietnam to invent his own strategic concept, which he did. 

In effect, what he was doing was a war of attrition. Speaking frankly 

to President Johnson in Guam, he said, "Unless we can block this 

physical infiltration, this war of attrition could go on forever indefinitely." 

Professor Pike describes the lack of a clear definition of what 

constituted victory or defeat that the two sides could tacitly agree on. 

The result was strategic ambiguity. This may be so, but there was 

nothing ambiguous, unfortunately, about President johnson's intentions to make South Vietnam the decisive battlefield. He made it very 

clear to Hanoi from 1964 on that the United States would not invade 
156 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

North Vietnam or attempt to bring down its government. This was 

a fatal error because it gave away the store politically, militarily, 

diplomatically, and psychologically. Moreover, it was clear that 

Hanoi's goal was a unified and communized Vietnam, as well as a 

communized Laos and Cambodia under Hanoi's domination. From 

1965 on, it seemed perfectly clear that Hanoi directed the insurgency 

in the South and had no intention of giving the National Liberation 

Front and the VietCong any degree of autonomy. 

It appears that there was a major element of the government, the 

CIA, that indeed did study and analyze the opposing strategies 

during the war and in fact was remarkably accurate in most of its 

judgments. Not long after the bombing offensive against North Vietnam got under way in early 1965, McNamara became dissatisfied 

with DIA and service assessments of the effects of the bombing and 

turned to the CIA. Thereafter, the agency gave McNamara independent appraisals of the bombing which, the secretary stressed, were 

not to be coordinated with DIA or any of the armed services. Later, 

at McNamara's request, CIA extended its assessment of the war to 

include such matters as an appraisal of the opposing strategies; 

North Vietnam's capacity to wage a prolonged war; the degree of 

Hanoi's dependence on the Soviet Union and China; and the 

prospects for survival of a free and independent South Vietnam. In 

mid-1966 the CIA did a special study that delved deeply into the 

nature of the enemy, his strategy, character, and the like, and in 

addition covered the more quantifiable aspects of the war and its 

effect on both sides. It judged that Hanoi's will to persist was strong 

and steady, that it had the manpower and material assets to fight 

indefinitely, and that it was unlikely that the United States could 

compel Hanoi to desist from its long-time goal of uniting and communizing Vietnam. By the end of 1966 McNamara recognized the 

open-ended nature of the U.S. commitment and persuaded the president to put a ceiling on U.S. troop strength in South Vietnam. Then 

in the latter part of 1967 McNamara told the president that the U.S. 

would probably fail to achieve its objectives and recommended reduced levels of U.S. military operations. As Dr. Hunt brings out in 

his paper on U.S. pacification efforts, Defense Department analysts 

had likewise concluded that the U.S. attrition strategy could not 

succeed. McNamara's disenchantment with the war was no doubt a 

major factor in the president's decision to replace him early in 1968. 

Pike's final discussion of the retrospective meaning of the war is 

especially worthwhile. He concludes that it is the task of historians 
COMMENTARY 157 

to determine the true meaning ofVietnam. I agree that we can learn 

and benefit a great deal from our Vietnam experience, but alas the 

evidence suggests that people, especially Americans, rarely learn 

from the past. 

Turning to Dr. Hunt's paper on the allied pacification efforts in 

the countryside between 1967 and 1972, I found this to be a good 

solid account of the subject, although somewhat incomplete and 

unbalanced. One of his major observations is that the American war 

of attrition, using both air power and ground forces, tended to overlook or underplay the underlying political issues of the war. To 

illustrate this he analyzes how U.S. funds were expended during the 

war. The air war came first by a large margin-50 to 60 percent of 

the total dollar costs. The ground war came second with about 25 

percent of the dollars. Pacification expenditures, which included the 

cost of the Regional and Popular Forces, ran a distant last. 

My feeling that Dr. Hunt's paper lacks balance stems from several factors. One is the picture he paints of unrelieved success in 

pacification with the advent of CORDS in May 1967. His account of 

CORDS achievements is not balanced by a discussion of difficulties 

not overcome, or of weaknesses, or of occasional failures. Secondly, 

the CORDS structure is given practically all the credit for success. 

There is little mention of the role and contributions of MACV, 

USARV, or the U.S. mission without whose unqualified support 

CORDS could not have gotten off the ground. Although he states 

that CORDS had to overcome stiff opposition from MACV to giving 

CORDS responsibility for Regional and Popular Forces as well as 

the assignment of U.S. Army advisers to the Regional and Popular 

Forces, my impression is quite different. I thought that the initiative 

for these important matters came from MACV. 

Some questions still remain, of course, concerning the effectiveness of CORDS. Dr. Hunt cites the Hamlet Evaluation System 

(HES) as a key measurement tool in determining pacification progress-yet the serious weaknesses of the HES, especially its susceptibility tto gross misreading of the situation, are not discussed. Nor is 

there a discussion of whether the CORDS solution overall was the 

optimum organization. The availability of resources from the military services and the Defense Department was the overriding factor 

in the decision to place pacification efforts under MACV. But this 

does not necessarily mean that the decision was the right one, or even 

the best one. Many senior Americans, including Ellsworth Bunker, 

Abe Abrams, Bob Komer, and Bill Colby, believed that this side of 
158 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

the war was essentially won in 1970-1971. There are other opinions, 

however. The CIA in Washington felt that the jury was still out, that 

many important areas were being strongly contested, and that it was 

too early to make any positive judgments. Others believed that 

Hanoi decided after the Tet offensive to rely primarily on the North 

Vietnamese Army to conquer the South and therefore put less emphasis on the war for control of the countryside. Moreover, the North 

was also busy recovering from the damage done by the allied incursion into Cambodia in May 1970 and by the South Vietnamese raid 

into Laos in February 1971, and thus was not in a position to help 

local efforts in the South. Still another school feels that Hanoi never 

intended to share power in the South with their southern cousins and 

deliberately misled the political cadres in the South to surface prematurely during Tet 1968. Such a thesis, that Hanoi wanted a weak 

political structure in the South, has been borne out by subsequent 

events since the fall of South Vietnam. Thus one can argue that 

progress in pacification in the 1970-1971 period might have been 

somewhat illusory. 

Turning to Professor Allan Goodman's paper on Vietnamization 

and negotiations during the Nixon administration, 1969- 1973, my 

first comment on this useful and interesting paper is that I do not 

believe one can have a meaningful discussion of U.S. negotiations 

with Hanoi using January 1969 as a starting point. Rather, one must 

go back to the first U.S. attempts to open talks with the North 

Vietnamese early in President Johnson's administration which 

began prematurely and set the wrong tone for years to come. Starting 

not long after the U.S. bombing offensive against the North in early 

1965, Johnson made numerous peace initiatives and bombing 

"'pauses" or halts. After announcing the 31 March 1968 bombing 

halt and his decision not to stand for reelection, the president finally 

got some peace talks going in Paris in May 1968. The allied position 

in Vietnam was not strong enough to warrant serious negotiations in 

1968, and Hanoi took Johnson's initiatives as signs of weakness and 

a lack of self-confidence, thus encouraging Hanoi to remain intransigent in the firm belief that the regime's will was stronger than that 

of the United States. President Nixon, on the other hand, realized 

that the allied position had to be strengthened and decided to bring 

more and more pressure on Hanoi before negotiating in earnest. 

Thus the president's National Security Adviser, Dr. Henry 

Kissinger, did not really expect any success when he tried to open 
COMMENTARY 159 

talks in August 1969, and, although secret negotiations got started in 

February 1970, there was no significant progress until October 1972 

when Hanoi finally recognized that its Easter offensive of 1972 had 

completely run out of steam. I would make the point that Professor 

Goodman's quite well taken view that Americans are not very good 

at the art of negotiating with Communists, while at the same time 

fighting, applies a good deal more to President Johnson and his 

approach than to President Nixon who had a very hard-nosed approach. Unfortunately the only thing that Hanoi was willing to negotiate was the withdrawal ofU.S. power from the region and time was 

running out on the Americans. 

With respect to Goodman's thesis about being more careful how 

we choose an ally, however, I have some reservations. The simple 

truth is that a nation cannot always choose the allies it would like to 

have. U.S. national interest and the situation at the time often dictate 

an unpleasant choice. A nation does not have permanent allies, only 

permanent interests. In World War II it became mandatory that we 

ally ourselves with Communist Russia against the Axis powers. 

There was no alternative. 

I would prefer not to compare the situation today in El Salvador 

with Vietnam because I believe that the two situations are entirely 

different in virtually every respect-politically, economically, militarily, psychologically, and strategically. The alternatives for the 

U.S. in El Salvador are far more serious in their implications and 

therefore do not lend themselves to comparing the risk, cost, and 

benefit factors with those associated with Vietnam. 

Finally, I agree with Allan Goodman's point that we Americans 

at times appear very amateurish in negotiating with hard-core Communist pros, but I'm not sure about his solution. Mter all, a U.S. 

negotiator operates within the guidelines and often specific guidance 

laid down by the secretary of state or the president, who are usually 

inhibited by domestic or international political factors over which 

they have little control. At any rate, secretaries of state and presidents often need such education and training, too, but it is a little late 

for on-the-job training for such senior personages. And so perhaps 

our nation needs to address a slightly different question: Today, 

where are the George Marshalls, the Dean Achesons, the Robert 

Murphys, and Bob Lovetts of yesteryear? How do we produce such 

men and women with the kind of background and experience the 

nation demands? 

Commentary 

Robert W. Komer 

Despite the fact that this is a conference sponsored by the U.S. 

Army, I would like to say that it was not really a ground versus an 

air war. It was rather a strategy of win the war in the South using 

both ground and air power and whatever of the Navy we could steal, 

versus an extended war, extending it into the sanctuaries in Laos and 

Cambodia as well as into North Vietnam. It seems to me that these 

are the proper strategic divisions. Either you win the war in-country 

or you try to widen the war as MacArthur did so terribly successfully 

in Korea. Now the reason why we decided differently in both Korea 

and Vietnam after one rush of hubris to the head was that we had 

lived in a basically different strategic situation ever since the advent 

of the atomic bomb. Vietnam was the second U.S. limited war in the 

nuclear age. And by that time we had learned very clearly a lesson: 

Do not escalate out of country. Allow the other fellow sanctuaries and 

he in turn will allow you sanctuaries. Now this was a set of no-nos for 

my friend Colonel Harry Summers, whose book on Clausewitz as 

seen through the eyes of the Army War College is enjoying quite a 

trendy vogue these days. Harry Summers really thinks that the U.S. 

Army went off and fought the insurgency. Well, as a guy who was 

constantly complaining that the U.S. Army was not paying any 

attention to the insurgency, I will say that, Clausewitz or no, Colonel 

Summers had it backwards. He was a representative of a school of 

thought that did not understand either the constraints on limited war 

in the nuclear age or that what we were fighting was somewhat 

different from the conventional kind of war. Even though the three 

papers do not cover much of the conduct of the war, nonetheless all 

three are quite provocative and they do illuminate three crucial but 

underappreciated aspects of that war. Take Hunt's paper on counterinsurgency, for example. He says more about the counterinsurgency problem than there is in Stan Karnow's entire book. Now 

Bruce Palmer has just written a book and he is splendidly literate, 

161 
162 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

but even he hardly mentions pacification. Indeed, I have some small 

cause to be surprised. Bruce and I sat next to each other for sixteen 

months in the strategy conclaves in Saigon, and he never told me 

once that he did not believe in the HES or that CORDS was not the 

right way to go. We Americans still don't seem to understand, although Doug Pike I now understand has been telling us so since 

1960, that Vietnam was at least three different, interwoven wars. 

There was the overarching political struggle over who had the mandate of heaven to unify the country; there was an armed insurgency 

which, as Pike brings out, was Hanoi's preferred strategy to unify the 

country to at least early 1965; and third, especially after U.S. entry 

in 1965, a quasi-conventional big-unit war which was superimposed 

o:n a genuine insurgency. Now Pike's paper breaks new ground, at 

least to me, by showing how it was not just the Americans who 

escalated to a big-unit war. It shows how Hanoi escalated to what he 

caJis a regular force strategy of bringing in North Vietnamese Army 

battalions to frustrate the U.S. intervention. As he brings out, we 

never really grasped that there were at least three levels of war under 

way. Instead, from about 1960 on, really that's 1955 on, we focused 

on the conventional military threat of North Vietnamese attack 

across the 17th Parallel on the Korean model. Now why did a 

decade's worth of military advisers keep giving the wrong kind of 

advice to the Vietnamese and equip the Vietnamese for the wrong 

kind of war? Wrong tactics, wrong equipment, wrong everything 

else? It was because the only model we had to go on was Korea. And 

consequently we tried to do it on the Korean model. 

Another paradox, it seems to me, is that the war finally ended the 

way the American military advisers thought it would begin, with a 

heavy, conventional North Vietnamese attack across the DMZ in 

1975, against which the ARVN crumbled and during which the 

pacified areas were simply swept up in the rout. Hunt brings out 

another paradox, that is, if you read the policy documents, pacification was seen as essential by the French and the South Vietnamese 

as well as the Americans, but there is an enormous difference between policy and performance. Pacification was never seriously pursued as a major effort by the French, or by the Americans, or by the 

South Vietnamese, until after the Tet offensive. Now, arguably, pacification worked better than expected from 1969 through 1971. I 

would not amend Hunt's conclusion that the successes of pacification 

came about primarily through the application of greater resources 

and U.S. managerial reforms and fmally Vietnamese responsiveness 
COMMENTARY 163 

after the Tet setback galvanized the South Vietnamese government, 

as Ambassador Bui Diem was telling me at luncheon, to finally take 

pacification seriously. And bear in mind pacification was always a 

Vietnamized program, quite unlike the big-unit war. So if there were 

any successes in pacification they were owing to the Vietnamese and 

not to the Americans. 

There were other reasons why things seemed to go better in the 

countryside after the Tet offensives and the VietCong's own enormous losses in the Tet offensives, where they used mostly southern 

cadre, denuding the countryside to generate forces to attack the 

cities. They upgraded a lot of rural guerrillas and just tossed them 

willy-nilly into the outfits that were supposed to attack the province 

capitals. This created a rural vacuum into which, slow as we were, 

we managed to move faster than Hanoi, and using primarily the 

Regional and Popular Forces, which we had managed to create in 

that time. In short, it was the enemy's losses, perhaps, as much as 

CORDS and Vietnamese government efforts which led to the striking pacification expansion between 1969 and 1972. 

Turning to AJlan Goodman's dual-tracked strategy, I'm not so 

sure that the U.S. failed to mesh these two tracks ofViemamization 

and negotiation as badly as Goodman suggests. Go back and read 

NSSM I and you will realize that President Nixon knew that he had 

to get out of Vietnam. Since we played the game of historical "ifs" 

this morning, let me say that I at least believe, and I spent a lot of 

time with him, that ifHubert Humphrey had been elected president 

in 1968 he would have been under the same compulsion to Vietnamize and disengage. Now Nixon conducted this strategic withdrawal with considerable skill. He turned and fought in mid-1972, 

when he also took advantage of Hanoi's 1972 offensive to blockade 

Haiphong, and at the end of the year when it looked as though Hanoi 

as going to pull back from the negotiated truce, he launched the 

end-of-the-year Christmas bombing. I'm not condoning those, I'm 

simply saying that they were part of the highly skillful strategic 

retreat. And in the end Nixon got what he wanted. He got the U.S. 

out without a catastrophic U.S. defeat. The trouble was it cost the 

Vietnamese a later catastrophic defeat, and the cost in blood and 

treasure was very high indeed. I'm not too sure of my figures but I 

think that both U.S. and Vietnamese losses and costs were higher in 

the 1969-1972 period than they had been in the 1965-1968 period. 

There was a high cost to the president in terms of domestic dissent 

rising as well. 
164 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Now it is true, Allan, that Hanoi outplayed us at the negotiating 

game. But in the end, the point is, it seems to me, that we did manage 

to disengage successfully, and the costs to our power position were 

more self-inflicted than in terms of a basic shift in the balance of 

power. I would also emphatically agree with Goodman that Vietnamization was a failure, as the 1975 debacle amply showed. We 

never operated on the RVNAF leadership the way we should have. 

Goodman is right that the failure of the RVNAF to reform itselfwas 

at least as important as the waning U.S. will to go on funding and 

approving it as a major cause of the failure ofVietnamization. Colby 

doesn't agree with me, but I think that the United States did not lose 

South Vietnam even though it contributed to the loss. Saigon's government and its army lost their own war, with some help from us. 

Now minor errors, Dr. Goodman, in your paper. It is wrong to say 

that Vietnamization allowed more resources to be given to pacification. Pacification resources went down pari passu after 1969 along 

with everything else. I would disagree that 1968-1972 saw successive 

dry season offensives by the VC and NV A, each of which was 

stronger in intensity than Tet. And I think you extended that to 1973 

and 1974. I would frankly say that the figures show on the contrary, 

as Pike indeed brings out, that the Tet losses (and remember that Tet 

was three different offensive operations-January and February, the 

second attempt on the cities in May, and a third in August and 

September which really never got off the ground because by this time 

we knew what was going on)-forced Giap to revert to his own 

nco-guerrilla strategy from late 1968 to Easter 1972. It is interesting 

to me that it took four years for Hanoi to regenerate enough forces, 

the North Vietnamese this time, for the next major offensive, and 

four years despite U.S. gradual withdrawal from 1969 on. Finally I 

question how far you can carry Goodman's lesson that we Americans 

are ill suited to folJow dual-track strategies in wartime-fight and 

taJk. I'll admit this strategy did not work out terribly well in Vietnam. However, it did work rather better in Korea from 1950 to 1953. 

I must say that of the three papers I found Doug Pike's the most 

striking. One can hardly disagree that there was very li ttle U.S. grasp 

or strategic analysis of Hanoi's strategy. It's very hard to contest 

Pike's devastating critique of our failure to understand Hanoi and 

the VC. I found particularly interesting his point about bureaucratic 

compartmentalization preventing us from seeing the enemy whole. 

Like the blind man, each agency in Washington felt only its own part 

of the elephant, and the composite they came up with was not real. 
COMMENTARY 165 

Also this wide variety of competing American perceptions of the war 

and of the enemy did deprive us of a unity of purpose and consensus 

on a war policy, which in time, along with what appeared to be a 

stalemate, undermined the American ability to sustain the war politically. Professor Pike's most fascinating conclusion, at least to me, is 

about the period on which his paper chiefly focuses, what he calls the 

regular force strategy period, early 1965 to mid-1968. He says that 

Hanoi was on the verge of victory over Saigon before U.S. troops 

could arrive in strength. Instead of pursuing the strategy that was 

leading to imminent victory, Giap cut back the attacks to devise a 

new strategy to deal with the incoming Americans. And Pike sees this 

shift as also evolving from an argument between two factions in 

Hanoi. There were the advocates of protracted guerrilla conflict 

versus the big-unit war strategists like Le Duan. He sees it as resulting from a second factor, Hanoi's growing suspicions of the unreliability of the VC. Hence the desire to have a reliable North Vietnamese force in the South. This suggests to me that we were not the 

only ones who were confused about what strategy to pursue. Hanoi, 

too, opted for different things at different times and it, too, had its 

share of the failures. The thing is that, like the British, it won the last 

battle. Just as Washington altered the war by bringing in fresh 

American battalions and starting a massive bombing, Hanoi also 

changed it by bringing in an increasing number ofNorth Vietnamese 

regular battalions. Pike stresses how massive American mobility and 

firepower led Giap increasingly to try to increase the tempo of the 

war, what you call a "go-for-broke" tempo instead of protracted 

conflict. Of course the culmination of that is the winter-spring campaign of 1967 and 1968 which peaked with the Tet offensive. And 

then the enormous Tet losses drove Hanoi back to a protracted war 

strategy until mid-1972-as I say a different conclusion from 

Goodman's. I think Pike is much more accurate in saying that Hanoi 

reverted, post-Tet, to a protracted war strategy because the failure of 

a general offensive and the general uprising plus the enormous Tet 

losses mainly deprived Hanoi of any other realistic alternative. 
,, 
SECTION III 

Afterward 

The Vietnam War and the Army's 

Self-Image 

Ronald H. Spector 

"All of a sudden the stick-in-the mud dogface Army has come 

alive. It sits once again with the high and the mighty: its recovered 

elan is the envy of the Air Force and Navy whose nuclear weapon 

systems and other 'fancy Dan' technology had come to over-shadow 

the Army throughout the Eisenhower years and indeed through the 

first Kennedy year." So wrote Fortune Magazine in May 1966. "It can 

be said without exaggeration" continued the magazine, "that the 

Army had never entered a war situation as well led as it is today. All 

but a fraction of the serving general officers and colonels have seen 

action or done staff duty in one or another of the great campaigns of 

World War II or Korea." 1 

Operational experience in Vietnam during 1965 and 1966 seemed 

to bear out the truth of this confident appraisal. "You just can't 

understand how lucky we are to have soldiers like this," declared a 

captain with the 1st of the 26th Infantry. In 1967 "he fought as 

bravely, if not more so than his predecessors in World War I or II . 

. . . He had a knock down drag out infantry type battle close in, hand 

to hand fighting retook his position ... above all performed with a 

mark of professionalism that I think some people don't attribute to 

our soldiers today."2 "The amazing thing about our troops is that 

they fought with all they had, never complaining," observed a veteran infantryman. "The men out there were outstanding, and if I 

have to go into battle again I hope the same type men are with me. "3 

A battalion commander reported that "I saw slightly wounded 

[men], when the helicopters were going back with resupplies, lining 

up to get aboard and go back to their units .... I told them they 

couldn't make it, they said they could. Those who had severe limps, 

I asked to walk ten paces and when they couldn't walk ten paces they 

broke down and cried. "4 

169 
170 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Five years later a radically different picture emerges. In June 

1971 a respected military correspondent published a widely 

reprinted article entitled "The Collapse of the Armed Forces" in 

which he declared " the morale, discipline and battle-worthiness of 

the U.S. Armed Forces" to be "lower and worse than at any time in 

this century and possibly in the history of the United States. "5 He 

placed much of the responsibility for this situation "on leadership 

which is soft, inexperienced, and sometimes plain incompetent. "6 

Other articles in a similar vein described the Army's morale as 

"slkidding fast," soldiers freaking out on drugs, assaulting officers and 

NCOs, and refusing to fight.? 

In a confidential message, the Commanding General, U.S. Army, 

Vietnam, General William McCaffrey, reported that "discipline 

within the command as a whole has eroded to a serious ... degree" 

since mid-1969 and that "within the chain of command it is well 

known that communi eaton has broken down. "The problem, thought 

McCaffrey, "is soluble, but not on a short term basis."8 Leading 

universities like Harvard, Dartmouth, and Yale closed down their 

ROTC programs and a West Point cadet confided to a reporter that, 

when on leave, he attempted to pass himself off as a civilian student.9 

Only about a third as many officers were continuing in the Army past 

their initial service obligation as in 1961, ten years before. 10 

Between its confident entry into the Vietnam conflict and the 

final withdrawal of U.S. troops in 1974 the Army underwent what 

one of its general officers described at the time as "an identity crisis."11 It might be more accurate to call it a collective nervous breakdown. The Army of 1965 was an organization in which almost all the 

members, from the most unhappy draftee waiting out his two years 

to the highest ranking general officer, understood and accepted their 

roles and the roles of their fellow soldiers. It was an organzation in 

which the answers to all problems-recruitment, training, leadership, discipline, and conduct-were known and accepted. Rules and 

procedures for dealing with deviant behavior were well established 

and acknowledged, yet seldom needed to be invoked. Five years later 

the complex fabric of custom, law, discipline, esprit, and coercion 

which had held the Army together had disintegrated. In almost every 

area of the soldier's life, from recruitment to drug use, from kitchen 

police to race relations, there had been a breakdown of consensus and 

subsequent controversy and confusion. 

What had happened? What caused this near collapse, this crisis 

of confidence? Contemporary observers had little trouble finding the 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE ARMY'S SELF-IMAGE 171 

answer: Vietnam. Vietnam, said journalists and other civilians, had 

strained the Army almost to the breaking point. The endlessness of 

the war, reports of large-scale civilian casualties, apparently futile 

battles like Hamburger Hill, and the appalling My Lai incident had 

undermined the Army's prestige and saddled it with the onus of 

failure. "The war and its problems have caused a backlash of antimilitary feeling in society," wrote one reporter.12 

Whatever they might think, few career Army leaders, from "lifer" 

sergeants to three-star generals, doubted that the Vietnam War had 

been a disaster for the Army. "You can make a case for saying the 

Army accomplished its mission but now the price-the price has 

been a terrible one," observed General Michael S. Davison. "It has 

given the Army a very tough blow," agreed Maj. Gen. Howard S. 

Cooksey. "The longer the war goes on the more unpopular it [the 

Army] becomes." Even Army Chief of Staff General William Westmoreland, former top U.S. commander in Vietnam, agreed that " this 

six years of war has truly stretched the Army almost to its elastic 

limit. It has been a very traumatic experience for us." 

Other officers were even less circumspect than Westmoreland. A 

former division commander in Vietnam concluded, "I can't justify it 

now that I see what the war has done to our country. It went on 

much too long. We have already lost more than we can ever gain no 

matter what happens. . . " "The young people know this war is 

wrong," observed another general. "They know we've killed more 

people than the North Vietnamese ever would have. We have to wait 

ten years now before we can regain the trust of the young." 13 

A significant feature of this deep pessimism in regard to the 

Army's Vietnam experience was that it was probably at its most 

intense during the 1970-1972 period, well before the final collapse of 

the Saigon regime. In those years most Americans, including Army 

leaders, believed that the U.S. had not checked the Communist 

attempt to conquer South Vietnam. A second significant feature of 

this climate of opinion was that few, if any, Army leaders or middle 

grade officers believed that the war could and should have been won. 

To the contrary, many commanders expressed the view that "the 

best thing for the Army to do would be to get out of Vietnam as fast 

as possible." They believed "that a continued presence provides little 

help for the Vietnamese but exacerbates the problems of drugs and 

disaffection. " Even officers who disagreed like Lt. Gen. John H. 

Cushman, a veteran combat leader and adviser, talked more in terms 
172 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

of saving face than of winning. "It would be disastrous for the Army's 

self-respect," Cushman told a reporter, "if people said we had to get 

out to save our skin." 1+ 

On the other hand, many military men tended to explain most of 

the Army's problems as a reflection of the larger problems of American society. If the Army faced widespread insubordination, social 

tensions, and drug abuse, then so too did civilian institutions. In a 

study appropriately titled America's Anny in Crisis, Lt. Col. William L. 

Hauser suggested that the Army's troubles were due to the fact that 

it was experiencing "a delayed version" of the social transformation 

which armed forces in other countries had experienced following 

World War II. 15 

Still another explanation was that, as Heinl had suggested, the 

current crisis was the result of incompetent leadership. In April 1970 

Army Chief of Staff General William Westmoreland directed the 

Army War College to undertake a study of "the moral and professional climate in the Army." 16 The study, labeled "The Army War 

College Professionalism Study," took the form of a detailed questionnaire, administered to over four hundred captains, majors, and 

colonels at various Army schools. The responses to these questionnaires revealed widespread dissatisfaction with the integrity and professional competence of the Army's leadership. 

Officers repeatedly characterized the senior commanders of the 

Army as, in most cases, narrowly ambitious, preoccupied with pleasing superiors, too busy to pay attention to their subordinates, demanding only "good news," intolerant of even the smallest failures, 

and occupying their positions too briefly to actually master them. 17 

One respondent observed, "Officers do not know their own jobs well 

enough and ... they are afraid if they delegate authority to subordinates ... they themselves will suffer .... The present day commander 

looks upon his command tour as a mechanism to help him get 

ahead." Another wrote of "endless Cover-Your-Ass exercises 

[which] create suspicion and distrust on the part of juniors for the 

integrity and competence of their superiors." IS 

T he professionalism study later provided the starting point for an 

even broader indictment of Army leadership. Crisis in Command, by 

Richard A. Gabriel and PaulL. Savage, published in 1978, charged 

that the officer corps, which had become bloated, careerist, and 

incompetent, bore a large measure of responsibility for what they 

characterized as the "collapse" of the Army in the later years of the 

Vietnam War. 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE ARMY'S SELF-IMAGE 173 

In the present discussion I would like to reexamine some of these 

contemporary explanations for the Army's "identity crisis" from the 

perspective of the 1980s. Because our present discussions concern 

Vietnam, I propose to concentrate primarily on the impact of the 

Vietnam War and the issue ofleadership. This is not meant to imply 

that the impact of larger changes in American society was unimportant. Indeed, any explanation which attributes all the Army's troubles to the Vietnam War fails to explain why some of the most severe 

problems, such as racial tensions, crime, and drug abuse, occurred in 

the U.S. and Europe. 

Yet the view that the Army's crisis was simply an outgrowth of 

societal problems thrust on the Army is equally insufficient. The 

Army has had society's problems thrust on it before. In the 1950s and 

early sixties it carried through a complete and thorough integration 

of the entire force in a period when integration was still regarded by 

many as either a righteous crusade or a dangerous social experiment. 

Yet integration was accomplished with minimal interference with the 

Army's morale and cohesion, and probably improved it. Indeed, it 

might almost be argued that the Army, as a traditional employer of 

last resort, has always inherited society's problems in terms of receiving its most marginal members: immigrants, the very poor, minorities, petty criminals, and illiterates.19 What changed in the late 1960s 

was that the Army's mechanisms for socializing and disciplining 

these elements had broken down. 

As for leadership, there are persuasive indications that the quality of the Army's officers and NCOs declined as the Vietnam War 

went on. In 1970, the commander in chief U.S. Army, Pacific, observed a "lessening of pride and professionalism among our junior 

officers and men .... The requirements imposed by Vietnam and the 

rapid promotions that have occurred, have resulted in a general 

decline in the quality and consequently prestige of our junior officers. "20 A persistent complaint was that the quality of graduates of 

Officer Candidate Schools had declined under the demands of the 

war.21 

Evidence concerning the attrition rates of officer candidates appears to support the conclusion that the Army had lowered its standards. In 1965, prior to the Vietnam buildup, the attrition rate at all 

Army Officer Candidate Schools was approximately 42 percent. By 

late 1967 the attrition rate had fallen to 28 percent. When one takes 

account of the fact that a much smaller number of candidates was 

adrni tted in 1965, the picture that emerges is one of less selective 
174 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

admission standards and less "selecting out" of candidates during 

training.22 Shortcomings among senior officers, highlighted in the 

professionalism study, have already been discussed. 

Yet despite such facts, despite the persistent invidious comparisons between officers of the Vietnam era and the great captains of 

World War II, there is no solid evidence for the belief that U.S. Army 

commanders in 1965- 1970 were any less capable, on the whole, than 

those of 1941-1945.23 During World War II nine division commanders were relieved of their commands in combat in the Pacific theaters alone. Two of the most senior and respected U.S. commanders, 

General Douglas MacArthur and Admiral Husband E. Kimmell, 

had their forces crippled in devastating surprise attacks for which 

they were utterly unprepared. One has only to compare the first large 

battle of the Vietnam conflict in the Ia Orang with the first battles 

ofWorld War II at Kasserine Pass and Bataan, not to mention the 

appalling debacles at the onset of the Korean conflict, to gain a sense 

of perspective. The worst mistakes of Lang Vei, Kham Due, and 

Hamburger Hill pale into insignificance beside such ill conceived 

campaigns as Buna, the Rapido, Pelilieu, and Schmidt. And yet even 

the darkest days of World War II and the Korean War did not lead 

to the kind of soul-searching among the Army's leadership which 

followed five years of ostensibly successful operations in Vietnam. 

In order to move beyond the cliches and tautologies about the 

Army's nervous breakdown, it is necessary to take a closer look at the 

composition and leadership of the Army during the seven years of the 

Vietnam conflict. On 28 July 1965, in a nationally televised White 

House news conference, President Lyndon Johnson announced that 

he had ordered an additional 50,000 men including the Army's 1st 

Cavalry Division (Airmobile) to Vietnam and that "additional forces 

will be needed later and they will be sent as requested."24 Although 

it was not immediately apparent, the president's statement marked 

the beginning of a major U.S. military buildup in South Vietnam and 

the commitment of1arge U.S. forces to extended combat operations 

there. The Defense Department and the Army had anticipated such 

a development for several months and the Army had prepared plans 

to deal with the new situation. 

The basis of aU Army planning was the assumption that substantial numbers ofNational Guard and reserve officers and men would 

be called to active duty in the event of a major military commitment 

such as Vietnam.25 Army planners had received Secretary ofDefense 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE ARMY'S SELF-IMAGE 175 

Robert McNamara's approval for a program to call up approximately 100,000 reservists for two years' service and to extend enlistments of men already on active duty in the event the president 

decided to commit U.S. forces to combat operations in South Vietnam.26 A few days before the president's speech, however, Secretary 

McNamara informed the Army that the president had decided that 

there would be no reserve call-up or extension of tour lengths. 

The reasons for the president's decision have been debated at 

length. 27 Much discussion has also been devoted to its impact on the 

overall U.S. strategic posture and the readiness of U.S. Army forces 

in Germany and the U.S. What has not been much discussed is the 

impact of the president's decision on the composition of U.S. forces 

in Vietnam. Yet the impact in that regard was profound. Denied the 

opportunity to call reserves or extend personnel tours, the Army was 

obliged to depend upon the draft and recruiting, largely induced by 

threat of the draft, to meet its manpower requirements. Deprived of 

its sources of additional experienced officers and NCOs in the reserves, it was forced to create an entire new corps of junior officers 

and noncommissioned officers on a crash basis. In effect the U.S. 

would have to create a "Vietnam-only" army. 

The problem of providing enlisted manpower was met mainly 

through the draft and stepped-up recruiting. As the Vietnam buildup 

continued, draft calls were revised dramatically upward. Total inductions during fiscal year 1965, the last year of peace, had totaled 

about 120,000. For fiscal year 1966 the Department of the Army 

projected a modest increase of about 15,000 men. President 

Johnson's commitment of major units to Vietnam in the spring and 

summer of 1965 quickly rendered these plans obsolete. The actual 

number of inductions during fiscal year 1966 was over 317,000 men, 

a 250 percent increase over the previous year. Inductions for fiscal 

year 1967 (the last half of 1966 and first half of 1967) continued at the 

300,000 level. During the following fiscal year inductions reached a 

new high of334,000. By the last half of 1968levels of inductions had 

begun to decrease, but induction still totaled two and one-half times 

what they had been in the "normal" years of the early 1960s. Even 

during the early 1970s draft calls remained at levels almost twice as 

high as those of 1964.28 

In addition to the draft, the Army successfully increased its recruiting of non-prior-service men for three-year tours of duty. The 

great majority of these voluntary enlistments were draft motivated 
176 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

and prompted by the desire to obtain a guarantee of some particular 

training, branch, or area of service. Such guarantees were available 

only to enlistees. 29 

The nature of these new accessions was exhaustively studied by 

critics of the draft and the war, who presented persuasive evidence 

that sons of the less well-to-do and minorities were overrepresented 

in the Army. White upper-middle-class men, they argued, largely 

escaped to the safety of college or occupational deferments or bogus 

medical disabilities. What few writers on this subject have taken the 

trouble to notice is that the characteristics of new accessions to the 

Army changed drastically after January 1968, when President Johnson ended student deferments for graduate work. Prior to 1968 college graduates constituted about 4.5 percent of new accessions to the 

enlisted ranks. During 1968 through 1971 they averaged over 11 

percent.30 

More significant still are the attitudes toward military discipline 

and authority which the recruits of 1968-1971 brought with them. In 

a survey of attitudes toward basic training 33.3 percent of high school 

graduates indicated that they had developed a more favorable attitude toward the Army as a result of basic training. Only 16.4 percent 

of college graduates felt that way, and 46 percent said their attitude 

had become less favorable. In contrast only 22.8 percent of high 

school graduates held a less favorable attitude. An even more important difference could be found in the effect of basic training on recruits' "willingness to receive and carry out orders." Fifty-two percent of high school graduates felt "more willing" after basic, whereas 

only 18 percent of college graduates did. Only 8 percent of high 

school graduates were "less willing" following basic training whereas 

24 percent of college graduates emerged from basic with this attitude.31 

The requirements for officers and noncommissioned officers created by the Vietnam War were proportionally even greater than the 

requirements for additional enlisted men. At the time of the buildup, 

ROTC had become the primary source of officers for the active 

Army.32 With the Vietnam buildup the Army moved quickly to try 

to raise ROTC enrollments through a stepped-up advertising campaign and increased availability of scholarships. Eight additional 

ROTC units were also established at universities which had previously lacked them.33 The U.S. Military Academy also increased the 

size of its classes by about 25 percent. 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE ARMY'S SELF-IMAGE 177 

Yet neither expansion of ROTC nor growth in West Point class 

size could immediately relieve the severe shortage of officers. To deal 

with that problem the Army turned to another time-honored expedient for meeting requirements for quick expansion of the officer 

corps-Officer Candidate School. 

During World War II the majority of officers in the Army 

Ground Forces had been commissioned through the officer candidate 

program.34 In the late 1950s and early 1960s, Officer Candidate 

School was utilized by the Army as a vehicle to develop promising 

enlisted men, particularly those with some college training, as junior 

officers. With the demands of Vietnam the Army stepped up its 

efforts to recruit college men for Office Candidate School. Almost 

6,500 OCS candidates were enlisted under the "college graduate 

option" during 1965.35 

The Army's recruitment efforts, together with increased pressure 

of the draft, began gradually to change the character of officer candidate classes. During 1966 and early 1967 OCS classes contained 

about one college graduate to every three nongraduates. By the fall 

of 196 7 this pattern had reversed itself with college graduates filling 

three out of every four places in class.36 

Output of Army Officer Candidate Schools increased by a factor 

of six during the first year of the Vietnam buildup, from 300 candidates a month to over 1,800 per month. During the second year,July 

1966 to July 1967, the monthly average increased still further to 

3,500. During the first three quarters of fiscal year 1967 the output 

of Army Officer Candidate Schools was equal to the entire officer 

production of those same schools between 1958 and 1966.37 

While the Army acquired its Vietnam-era junior officers from 

traditional sources (OCS, ROTC, and the military academy), its 

solution to the problem of providing the additional noncommissioned 

officers required for combat and combat support units in Vietnam 

was radical and unprecedented. The decision to wage the Vietnam 

connict without drawing heavily on the reserve forces meant that 

critical shortages soon developed in the middle ranks of the noncommissioned officer corps, particularly in the grades of E-5, E-6 and 

E-7. In the peacetime Army, enlisted men normally took five years 

or longer to acquire the requisite experience and seniority to attain 

even the rank of E-5. With the demands of Vietnam, however, the 

Army could scarcely afford to wait five years for a new corps of 

middle-level NCOs to work their way up through the ranks. Instead 
178 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

the Army was obliged to make a two-grade substitution of personnel 

by picking the most promising PFCs (E-3s) and making them acting 

sergeants (E-5) in command of a squad. 

As an alternative to this approach, the Army in later 1967 established a Noncommissioned Officer Candidate program whereby enlisted men who had completed their basic combat and advanced 

individual training could qualify for immediate promotion to 

sergeant (E-5) upon completion of a rigorous, twelve-week course at 

one offour Noncommissioned Officer Candidate Schools. Those who 

ranked in the top 5 percent of the class were eligible for immediate 

promotion to staff sergeant (E-6). About 70 percent of each class 

successfully completed the course and were awarded their stripes. 

Within a week of completing their training, most graduates were on 

orders to Vietnam. Quickly labeled the "instant" or "Shake and 

Bake NCO" course, the new program was producing 13,000 NCOs 

a year by 1968.38 

The cumulative result of the Army officer and noncommissioned 

officer procurement policies, together with the president's decision 

not to mobilize significant numbers of reserve personnel, was that the 

Vietnam War was fought by two armies, the relatively small regular 

army of career officers and noncommissioned officers who served in 

the worldwide Army as well as in Vietnam, and the larger, 

"Vietnam-only" army of draftees, one-term enlistees, instant NCOs, 

and OCS and ROTC graduates. Of course, the Army had also 

undergone drastic expansion during World War II and Korea, but 

in World War II the new forma tions had been leavened with experienced officers and NCOs from the regular and reserve forces, and in 

Korea the Army could call on a large number of leaders with experience in the recent world conflict. 

During the Vietnam era, however, the Army was unable to fill the 

large requirements for junior officers and middle-level NCOs, which 

soon developed, with experienced personnel since such personnel 

were to be found only in the reserves. Neither could the Army employ 

the system of building new units around experienced cadres of officers and NCOs because these officers and NCOs were required to 

serve in the Army's active units in NATO and the continental U.S. 

and because the one-year limitation on tours of duty in Vietnam 

meant that a relatively small percentage of experienced men would 

be available at any one time. The Army was thus left with no choice 

but to create an entirely new army up through company grade officer 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE ARMY'S SELF-IMAGE 179 

and it was this "new army" which carried the burden of fighting and 

dying in Vietnam. 

A few statistics tell the story. During 1969 draftees comprised 88 

percent of infantry riflemen in Vietnam. A further lO percent were 

first-term enlistees with only 2 percent career Army men.39 The 

officers and NCOs who led these men were themselves mostly firsttermers-ROTC, OCS, and NCOC graduates. Career men were 

plentiful at battalion and higher headquarters, but most of the fighting was done by companies, platoons, and squads. It is probably 

exaggerating only a little to say that "the Army," in the sense of the 

long-term career force, did only a minor part of the fighting in Vietnam. 

The "Vietnam-only" soldiers did well. Through 1969 U.S. soldiers performed as well as or better than soldiers of any previous 

wars, and morale remained high. Yet a force with a special composition of the Vietnam army was peculiarly vulnerable to the problems 

which beset the Army in the late 1960s. Composed largely of draftees 

and one-term volunteers, led by a young, inexperienced, and constantly changing body of junior officers and NCOs and an equally 

transitory group of senior officers, it lacked the hard professional 

ethic to shield it from long-term effects of change in public opinion 

and perceptions of the Vietnam War. 

Soldiers in the early years of the Vietnam conflict could still 

believe that they were performing a meaningful task and one which 

would ultimately lead to success for the U.S. As one former company 

commander recalls, "Morale ... was really, really super. In 65 we 

really felt we were winning, felt we were making great progress. »40 

"Nobody wanted to be known as a coward, nobody wanted to be 

known as not carrying his share of the load," recalled another former 

company commander of the 1967- 1968 period. "The war was young. 

It was the only war they knew."4L 

With the shock of the Tet offensive, the increasing unpopularity 

of the war, and Nixon's subsequent "winding down" of the conflict, 

morale and motivation plummeted. "There was no doubt that people 

didn't see a mission over there," recalled a company commander of 

the 1971-1972 period. "It led to not doing a lot of things that would 

put you in a dangerous light. At least our battalion C.O. indicated 

to us 'look, we didn't want to get committed.,42 "Like nobody had 

hopes of winning the war. Everybody knew that the war was a loss," 

recalled a former infantryman of that period. "Everybody felt like 

they were outcasts."43 
180 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Besides the loss of a sense of purpose, the Vietnam-only army's 

cohesion and morale were adversely affected by the high degree of 

personnel turbulence occasioned by the twelve-month tour and the 

system of sending soldiers to Vietnam as individual replacements 

rather than as members of units. The system produced constant 

personnel turnovers, broke down unit cohesion, and ensured that, at 

any given moment, a platoon or company "in the bush" would be 

made up largely of inexperienced newcomers. A former platoon 

sergeant recalls that "the makeup of my platoon changed almost 

weekly .... After only two months in Vietnam, I had more experience 

than half the men in my platoon. "44 

The twelve-month tour was probably the most important single 

factor affecting the behavior and attitudes of U.S. soldiers in Vietnam, and there is insufficient space here to djscuss its many ramifications.45 Suffice it to say that when the war began to sour in late 1968, 

the twelve-month tour, in all likelihood, strongly reinforced the 

breakdown of morale and cohesion. 

The career noncommissioned officer, the senior sergeants who, in 

past wars, had provided the experience, leadership, and continuity 

for new soldiers and inexperienced junior officers were, in this war, 

conspicuous by their scarcity in the field. Soldiers in Vietnam consistently commented on the fact that few E-7s, E- 8s, and E-9s could 

be found with infantry units in the field. A high-ranking officer of 

USARV worried that "we are going to get properly criticized with all 

these 7s, 8s, and 9s back in a comfortable, safe area while the 

'Shake'n Bake' NCOs, who are draftees, fight the war."46 

A newly arrived infantryman recalled being told by a member of 

his unit "that the so-called cadre of the replacement company were 

all senior NCOs and had an in somewhere so they never went to the 

field and none of them were ever in combat .... He also said that 

some of these NCOs were on extended tours, some up to four years, 

all drawing combat pay .... Their hooches were all dry and clean as 

well as stocked with things like radios, refrigerators and comfortable 

beds."47 

This phenomenon of"lifers" in the rear, draftees in the field, was 

far more prevalent during the later years of the war than during 

1965- 1967. By 1970 many career NCOs were in their third tour in 

Vietnam. Many had been wounded in earlier tours. It was an aging 

NCO corps which was not replicating itself either through the 

"Shake and Bakes" or normal promotions. "These individuals, E-7s 

and E-8s, are people who are over here right now, most probably on 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE ARMY'S SELF-IMAGE 181 

their third tour. Certainly none of them are here on their second," 

observed one division commander. "They have been wounded and 

they have had other things occur to them ... .If you are over forty 

years old there is no place for you in a platoon ... .It is impossible 

to get those guys to hump about in the jungle."48 

As rear areas swelled with senior NCOs in the later years, so they 

also began to fill up with the misfits, malcontents, and malingerers 

sent back by the steadily dwindling number of units with active 

missions. "It was a kind of disintegrated situation," an infantryman 

of 1970 recalled. 

In the infantry units that were in the field, and the units that had a real 

mission that required effort and energy and intelligence to accomplish, they 

didn't have time to deal with disciplinary problems. If somebody was a 

foul up, had a bad attitude, somebody was hurting the work effort of other 

people, you didn't take the time to discipline him. You didn't take time to 

do anything. You shipped him back to the rear. So the rear units became 

the dumping grounds for all the bad actors from other units. And some of 

the [rear area units] were really outrageous because the people that were 

least equipped to deal with these kinds of problems were the ones in charge 

of the rear units.49 

The decline in morale and cohesion was aggravated by a virtual 

breakdown of the old system of discipline and military justice. By 

1971 almost aU senior NCOs and company grade officers appeared 

convinced "that the judicial machinery of the armed forces has totally collapsed and was unresponsive to their needs."50 Actually, the 

machinery had not so much broken down as become clogged and 

stalled by the thousands of cases of AWOLs, suspected drug users, 

and general "bad attitude" types awaiting trial or appeal of their 

cases. 

The long delays in processing court-martial cases had many 

causes. The Army was woefully short of qualified court reporters in 

Vietnam and inexperienced young clerks who prepared many trial 

transcripts were not only slow, but their work was of such poor 

quality that cases often had to be prepared a second time.51 This 

situation was aggravated by the tendency in many commands to 

return completed cases to lower echelons for correction of minor 

administrative deficiencies, thus entailing further delay. In the case 

of drug-related charges, further delays were entailed by the requirement to obtain a chemical analysis of the suspect substance. In the 

case of Vietnam the substance had to be flown to Japan for testing, 

and in many instances the laboratory technician was required to 
182 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

testify personally at the court-martial.52 Throughout Vietnam there 

was also an acute shortage of trained judge advocates. 53 

The backlog of court-martial cases resulted in a large transient 

population of soldiers awaiting trial or appeal in rear areas. Most of 

these men were under no restraint since pretrial confinement was 

severely restricted by long-standing MACV policies and by lack of 

confinement facilities. Even convicted offenders rarely served much 

time in confinement. "Very frequently first offenders get a suspended 

sentence," reported one officer. "Usually a commanding officer's 

recommendation for a courtmartial is remanded to a lower court by 

the convening authority to the extent that it is nearly impossible to 

obtain a general courtmartial. The EM knows he will at worst receive 

six months, which will be suspended for first offenders."54 

The effect on morale and discipline in rear areas is well described 

by a Department of the Army survey team which visited Vietnam in 

the spring of 1971. They described "brigade Fire Support Bases or 

rear areas where each company or battery's disciplinary cases who 

were pending trial, administrated discharge etc. could freely move 

throughout a large area and make contact with other hardcore cases. 

This factor, combined with ready access to drugs and with the NCO 

leadership partially intimidated by the threat of physical retaliation, 

produces a dangerous and volatile situation. "55 

Yet when aJl these factors are taken into account, it is still insufficient to blame the Army's identity crisis solely on the souring of the 

Vietnam War or the manpower policies adopted to support that war. 

Even had the U.S. Army in Vietnam been a long-service career force 

with high unit cohesion it is doubtful whether it would have escaped 

most of the problems which beset it in 1970-1972. Studies of the 

French Army in Algeria and the British Army in the Boer War both 

point up the existence of many of the same type of problems in these 

relatively professional (not to say mercenary) armed services. The 

Israeli Army, by any standard a highly professional and well-led 

force, reportedly experienced similar problems in its recent occupation of Lebanon. 

The Army's identity crisis of the early 1970s and its subsequent 

self-examination reveal many shortcom.ings and inadequacies in the 

Vietnam-era Army, but if the Army's experience in Vietnam teaches 

any lesson it is that no armed service no matter how well trained, 

equipped, and led can continue indefinitely to fight a meaningless 

war for which it can perceive neither compelling necessity nor hope 

of success. 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE ARMY'S SELF-IMAGE 183 

NOTES 

I. Charles]. V. Murphy, "The New Multi-Purpose Army," FortuM, May 1966. 

For similar sentiments expressed within the Army, see Brig. Gen. Barksdale Hamlet, 

"Report on Army Progress," Anny, November 1962, and "Army Turns the Corner," 

Anny, February 1963; and Chief of Staff, Opening Remarks, Army Commander's 

Conference, 29 Nov-1 Dec 65. OCSA No. 849/65, copy in Historians fLies, CMH. 

2. After Battle Interv with Capt George A.Joulwan, 1-26 Inf, 1st lnfDiv, pertaining to Battle of AP GU, 3 Apr 67, CMH interview file. 

3. Interv with 1st Sgt Walter I. Sabralowski, Operation HAWTHORNE, 20Jun 

66, CMH interview file. 

4. lnterv with Lt Col A. P. Abood, 1st BN (Abn), 327th Inf, IOlst ABN, 3Jun 

66, CMH interview file. 

5. Robert D. Heinl, Jr., "The Collapse of the Armed Forces," A mud Forces journal, 

7 June 1971, p. 30. 

6. Ibid., p. 37 

7. For representative articles, see Max Lerner, "The Trouble in the Army" Boston 

Herald Traveler, 21 Sep 71; Robert Gruneberg, "Morale ofViet G.I.'s Skidding Fast," 

Chicago Daily News, 13Jan 71; Haynes Johnson and George C. Wilson," The Army: 

Its Problems are America's," Washington Post, 20 Oct 71. 

8. Msg, CGUSARV to Army Commands, sub: Mission Accomplishment, Drug 

Abuse and Military Discipline, 191 ()()(h J ul 71, copy in Historians files, CMH. 

9. Ward Just, Military Men (New York: Knopf, 1970), p. 46. 

10. William L. Hauser, America's Army in Crisis (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ. 

Press, 1973), p. 148. 

II. Robert G. Gard,Jr., "The Military and American Society," Foreign A.Jfoirs 49 

Ou1y 1971): 698. 

12. George Ashworth, "War Melts Military Mystique," Christian ScitMe Monitor, 

12 August 1968. 

13. All quotations from "'Young People Know This War is Wrong,"' Washington 

Post, 15 Sep 71. 

14. Peter A. Jay and Peter Osnos, "War Casualties: Leadership, Morale," Washington P4st, 15 Sep 71. 

15. Hauser, America's Army in Crisis, p. 63 and passim. 

16. Memo, CSA for Commandant, AWC, 18 Apr 70, sub: Analysis of Moral and 

Professional Climate in the Army, copy in Historians files, CMH. 

17. Study on Military Professionalism, 30 J un 70, pp. 13-17 and passim, copy in 

USAWC Library. 

18. Ibid., pp. 15-16 

19. On this point, see Robert K. Griffith, Men Wanted For the U.S. Army. 

20. Msg, CINCUSARPAC to CoiSA, 1107llz Sep 70, copy in Historians files, 

CMH. 

21. Cf. "Conversion with General Ralph Haines," 1974, Senior Officer Debriefing 

Program, p. 66, U.S. Army Military History Institute (USAMHI). 

22. ODCSPER Annual Historical Summary, 1965, 1968, pp. 214, 235. During 

World War II the average overall attrition rate for OCS was 25 percent. Robert R. 

Palmer. Tht Procurement and Training of Ground Combat Troops (Washington: Office of 

Chief of Military History, 1948), p. 344. 

23. For a recent example in the popular press, see Nick Kotz et aJ., "Where Have 

all the Warriors Gone?" Washingtonian, July 1984, pp. 80-130. 

24. Public Papers of tht Presidents: Lyndon B. johnson, /965, 2: 795. 
184 SECOND INDOCHI NA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

25. The background and development of Army planning for Vietnam, is discussed in Walter Hermes, Department of the Army: The Buildup, 1965- 1967, ch. 3, 

CMH. 

26. Memo for Record, Sec Army, sub: Meeting with Secretary of Defense, 9 Jul 

65, records of Sec Army. 

27. Tlu SeMlor Gravel Edition oftlu Pentagon Papers, 4: 297-302;J ack Valenti, A Very 

Human President (New York: Pocket Books, 1977), p. 279; George C. Herring, America's Longest War, pp. 204-42 Doris Kearns, Lyndon Johnson and tlu American Dream, pp. 

280-84. 

28. Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel, Annual Historical Summaries, FY 1966, FY 1967, FY 1968, FY 1969, pp. 23, 22, 29, 30, copies in CMH. 

29. The Survey of Army Recruiting: A Study, Mar 65, records of U.S. Army 

Recruiting Command;JeromeJ ohnston and j erald G. Bachman, Youth in Transition: 

Young Men and Military Seruict (Ann Arbor, Mich.; Survey Research Center, 1971), 

pp. 149-3 12. 

30. Fact Sheet, Utilization of Increased College Graduate Accessions, 23 Feb 71, 

DCSPER records. 

31. Sample Survey of Military Personnel MILPC-3 as of 30 November 1972, 

DAPC-PMP Report No. 37-73-E, "Survey Estimate of Attitudes Toward Physical 

and Non-Physical Aspects of Basic Combat Training," copy in Historians files, 

CMH. 

32. Army 75 Personnel Concept Study, pt. II, vol. 2, p. 2-45, DCSPER records. 

33. Ltr, Lt Gen James K. Woolnough to Rep William L. Hungate, 27 J ul 67, 

Woolnough Papers, USAMHI. 

34. Palmer, Tlu Procurement and Training, p. 158. 

35. Fact Sheet, U.S. Army Recruiters to Visit More Than 600 College Campuses, 

DCSPER Reading file, DCSPER records. 

36. Memo, Director of Procurement and Distribution, ODCSPER, for Deputy 

Under Secy of Army (Manpower), 20 Dec 67, sub: Training and Utilization of 

College Graduates as Officers, DCSPER records. 

37. White House Fact Sheets, OSD 1078, 17 Apr 67, and IO J an 67, copies in 

DCSPER records. 

38. Roger L. Ruhl, "NCOC," Infantry, May-June 1969, pp. 32-39. 

39. Andrew J . Glass, "Draftees Shoulder Burden of Fighting and Dying in Vietnam," Nationaljoumal, 15 August 1970, p. 1747. 

40. Oral History Interv, Lt Col E. 0., Company Command in Vietnam oral 

history series, USAMHI. 

41. Oral History lnterv, Lt Col T. G., Company Command in Vietnam oral 

history series. Clinical discussion of the high morale of U.S. soldiers in this period 

may be found in E. M. Col bach and M.D. Parrish, "Army Mental Health Activities 

in Vietnam, 1965- 1970," Bulletin oftlu Menninger Clinic 34, pp. 333-42. 

42. Oral History Interv, Lt Col J. L., Company Command in Vietnam oral 

history series. 

43. Oral History lnterv,Jim Peachin, p. 85, Winter Soldier collection, Columbia 

University. 

44. Robert]. Graham, "Vietnam: An Infantryman View of Our Failure," Military Affairs 48 Quly 1984): 137-38. 

45. See Charles Moskos, "Surviving the War in Vietnam," in Charles R. Figley 

and Seymour Leventman, eds., Strangers At Home (New York: Praeger, 1980), 71-85. 

46. Transcript, USARV Commanders Conference, Aug 71, Vietnam Interview 

Tape (VNIT) 811, CMH. 

47. Diary, Sgt Michael Forrisi, Vietnam Miscellany Collection, USAMHI. 

48. Transcript, USAR V Commanders Conference, Aug 71. 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE ARMY'S SELF-IMAGE 185 

49. Oral History Interv, Jim Peachin, pp. 88-89. 

50. Memo for Lt Gen G. I. Forsythe, sub: Visit to USARV from 7 April to 15 

May 1971, OCSA-SAMVA, copy in Historians files, CMH. 

51. Memo Undersecretary of the Army for Sec Def, 8 Dec 70, sub: Letter from 

Chief Judge Robert Quinn, CSA, 250.4, 12/8/70, record of CSA. 

52. Rpt, The Committee for Evaluation of the Effectiveness of the Administration 

of Military Justice to General William C. Westmoreland, Chief of Staff, U.S. Army, 

I Jun 71, pp. 13-14 and passim, copy in Historians ftles, CMH. 

53. Ltr, Chief judge Robert E. Quinn to Honorable Melvin R. Laird, 10 Nov 70, 

copy in Historians ftles, CMH. 

54. End of Tour lnterv with 1st Lt Kenneth L. Showalter, CO, HHO, 854th 

Transport Gp, 394th Transport Bn, 15 Feb 69, VNI 203, CMH. 

55. Memo for Lt Gen Forsythe, sub: Visit to USARV from 7 April to 15 May 

1971. 

Commentary 

Edward M. Coffman 

In Colorado Springs on a March evening in 1976, during dinner 

with three Air Force officers and an infantry major, I listened closely 

when the conversation turned to Vietnam. The Air Force major 

described the rotation policy which kept people in their jobs only six 

months. As he explained, a commanding officer had to take two 

months to become qualified to fly in the area while he also learned 

his job. At best, you could expect a commander to be on top of things 

a couple of months before his tour was over. The same was true for 

his staff. The blue-suiter concluded: "If you attempted to run a 

business like that, it would go under." The Army officer responded: 

"Ours did., · 

The purpose of this symposium is to determine what happened 

and why in the American intervention in Vietnam. Ronald Spector's 

paper ccThe Vietnam War and the Army's Self-Image" is a solid 

contribution to this inquiry. The author delineates the difference 

between the Army which went to war in the mid-sixties and that 

which fought in the post-Tet years. He ascribes much of the later 

Army's problem not to the turbulence of American society in those 

years nor to poor leadership but rather to the decisions not to mobilize reservists and the maintenance of a twelve-month tour. This, in 

turn, led to another division between what he calls the Vietnam-only 

army, which consisted predominantly of junior officers, NCOs, and 

men who were civilians turned soldiers just long enough to train for 

and then serve their combat tour, and the professional army which 

officered battalion and higher headquarters but whose officers and 

men also were distributed in the continental United States, Europe, 

and Korea as it carried out other missions. This lack of experienced 

officers and men to leaven the company-level units contributed 

187 
188 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

greatly to the breakdown in morale and discipline. He concludes 

with the combined diagnosis and admonition "that no armed service 

no matter how well trained, equipped, and led can continue indefinitely to fight a meaningless war for which it can perceive neither 

compeJling necessity nor hope of success." 

I have only two qualifications which I wish to raise after a careful 

reading of this well-reasoned and researched paper. Then, if I may, 

I wish to address briefly the subject of the youth society from which 

one really cannot separate the Army in this era. 

The first has to do with the uniqueness of the unleavened 

Vietnam-only army. To be sure, there were a few reservists and a 

much more substantial number of guardsmen in World War I, albeit 

the latter were segregated in separate divisions, and in World War II 

there were sizable representations of both civilian components, but 

the expansion of the prewar Regular Army to a wartime host of one 

to twenty in the first and one to thirty in the second war should give 

one some idea of how unleavened those wartime armies were. 1 The 

problem was not so much the result of a failure to call up more or less 

experienced officers and NCOs from the reserve and the guard but 

the limitations imposed by the twelve-month tour which Professor 

Spector correctly terms "the most important single factor affecting 

the behavior and attitudes of U.S. soldiers in Vietnam." This prevented a natural leavening of experienced veterans. My qualification 

is the minor one that I assign more importance to the limited tour 

than to the decision not to use junior leaders from the civilian components. 

As a second qualification, I wish to suggest that Professor Spector 

overlooked a factor which, I believe, contributed to the "collective 

nervous breakdown" of the Army in its last years in Vietnam. This 

is the overmanagement by higher levels of command and the corresponding limitation in power and decrease in authority of small unit 

leaders which, I think, sapped their positions among the men with 

whom they lived and had to lead. Technology, particularly in the 

form of the ubiquitous helicopter, was the obvious culprit. It afforded 

the opportunity to carry to extremes the close supervision and control which higher commanders began to exercise in the trench war 

stalemate of 1952-1953 in Korea. Of course, the perspective is different from the air. What appears deceptively clear up there takes on an 

entirely different hue when one is breaking bush. Several years ago, 

two majors (an infantryman and an artillerist), each with two tours 
COMMENTARY 189 

in-country, explained to me that no one above the level of battalion 

knew what was going on in Vietnam. While some may argue that 

their perception was too narrow, the fact remains that if the officers 

and men fighting the war in the companies and batteries held that 

vi~w, it certainly exacerbated any doubts they had as to the overall 

conduct of the war. 

Another aspect of this general problem is the tidal wave of overadministration that has swept over our society since World War II. 

Those of us who have survived the past quarter of a century in 

academe can testify to the tremendous growth of bureaucracies on 

campus. In the military, this helps to undermine the position of the 

commander. I recall a conversation with an Air Force officer who did 

an outstanding job as a tactical wing commander during the war. He 

told me that as a squadron leader in World War II he had much 

more authority and responsibility as to the care and conduct of his 

men than he did during the Vietnam War. In the intervening twenty 

years, staff agencies had usurped much of this power and authority. 

His success was in spite of rather than because of the institution. 

When problems of the magnitude suffered in the post-Tet period 

emerged, the leaders in direct contact day in and day out with their 

men did not have the institutional power to back up whatever personal leadership characteristics they had. Again, the abbreviated 

tour compounded their difficult situation. 

Professor Spector does not consider the influence of social problems on the Army as particularly crucial. I understand his point that 

these were symptoms rather than causes of the crisis. Yet I think 

someone should address the singular phenomenon that gripped the 

nation in that period and helped shape its response to the war. The 

distinguished economist, Peter F. Drucker, published an article in 

Harper's in 1971 that helped me understand what I had been witnessing at the University ofWisconsin over the previous years. The thesis 

of the "The Surprising Seventies" was that the new decade would 

differ drastically from the sixties. For the first time in history, 

seventeen-year-olds became the largest age group in the country in 

1964, and that group continued to increase in size each succeeding 

year until 1971. The characteristics of seventeen-year-olds, according to Drucker, are rebelliousness, a searching for identity, addiction 

to causes, and intoxication with ideas. Elders were unable to maintain traditional controls over this group; thus society was more affected by naive, yet aggressive, forceful youngsters than ever before. 
190 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

As they matured into their thirties, their views and actions would 

also change. Hence the seventies, as he predicted correctly, were 

different from the sixties.2 

The great issue when the post-World War II baby boom hit 

college campuses and the world was the Vietnam War, but the civil 

rights movement of the early sixties helped prepare them for their 

role in the antiwar movement. This generation was the first to have 

so many grow up in affiuent, middle-class suburbs; thus they were 

shocked to see the poverty and the problems of blacks. It was even 

more shocking to discover that such a large segment of the white, 

middle-class establishment condoned this situation and even carne 

out against the civil rights activists. Some of the young people became involved in the movement, while others identified with the 

activists who were fighting the good fight and making sacrifices up to, 

and including in a few cases, their lives in a good cause. In the course 

of affairs, they adopted as their creed Pogo's maxim that we have met 

the enemy and he is us-with this qualification: the "us" became 

their seniors, those in authority. Given another characteristic of 

seventeen-year-olds as well as a good many other people, namely, a 

lack of knowledge and enough sense of history to put matters in 

perspective, many in this generation did not understand the basic 

premise of the cold war-the need for containing the expansion of 

communism. For many of them, the U.S. was at best equal to Russia 

as a threat to peace while to others the United States, again with a 

nod to Pogo, was the enemy. I recall a phrase spray-painted on a 

billboard in Madison: "U.S. out of Arnerika." 

While most of the militants presumably never served in the 

Army, those men and women who did were of this generation. Most 

of them could not afford the luxuries of college and were in gTeater 

or lesser sympathy with their more prosperous contemporaries. 

However, they watched those people make their points against the 

war over and over again as network news cameras followed protests, 

marches, debates, and assorted other kinds of antiwar activities. This 

sensitized them and nourished a malaise which was not conducive to 

the development of military virtues. Such attitudes in such an atmosphere, combined with the overreaching political and strategical 

problems of this war, resulted in a situation unprecedented in our 

history. 

In conclusion, again, I want to congratulate Professor Spector for 

a paper which helped me to understand better what happened to our 

Army and, in a sense, to all of us, in Vietnam. 
COMMENTARY 191 

NOTES 

I. In 191 7 there were 200,000 in Lhe Regular Army and National Guard, while 

at the end of the war there were 4 million. Leonard P. Ayers, Tlu War with Germany: 

A Slalistical Summary (Washington, 1919}, p. 16. In june 1940, 266,000 were in the 

Army with 8 million serving five years later. Samuel A. Stouffer et al., Tlu American 

Soldier: Adjuslmml During Army Lift, 4 vols. (Princeton, 1949}, 1: 54. 

2. Peter F. Drucker, "The Surprising Seventies," Harper's, July 1971, pp. 35-39. 

American Foreign Policy After Vietnam 

Norman A. Graebner 

I 

Ambassador Graham Martin's flight from the roof of the American embassy in Saigon in Aprill975 symbolized the magnitude of the 

nation's long misadventure in Vietnam. Analysts and writers had 

predicted such an ending for a full decade; they now reminded the 

American people that the evidence of continuing disaster had been 

available no less to those in government who had carried the country 

into Vietnam. Still the administration in Washington assumed no 

responsibility for what it and previous administrations had done. In 

late April 1975, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger explained why 

the long Vietnam experience would sink into history without compensation even in the form of some public enlightenment. " I think 

this is not the occasion, when the last American has barely left 

Saigon," he told newsmen, " to make an assessment of a decade and 

a half of American foreign policy, because it could equally well be 

argued that if five Administrations that were staffed, after all, by 

serious people, dedicated to the welfare of their country, came to 

certain conclusions, that maybe there was something in their assessment, even if for a variety of reasons the effort did not succeed .... Special factors have operated in recent years. But I would 

think that what we need now in this country ... is to heal the wounds 

and to put Viet-Nam behind us and to concentrate on the problems 

of the future." 1 

Throughout March and April, as South Vietnam stumbled from 

one disaster to another, Washington struggled to stave off the final 

catastrophe. After the truce of January 1973, President Richard 

Nixon had assured South Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu 

that United States forces "would not stand idly by in the event of 

193 
194 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

renewed large-scale military action by Hanoi." President Gerald 

Ford, while refusing to publish the Nixon-Thieu correspondence, 

took its implied obligations seriously and battled Congress into 

March for a $300 million military aid appropriation to save South 

Vietnam and Cambodia. Kissinger reminded the nation that the 

Vietnamese people had relied on the United States, had believed its 

commitments.2 What kind of country, he asked, would deliberately 

destroy an ally? On 26 March the secretary reinforced his appeal, 

informing a press conference that peace was indivisible. "The United 

States," he warned, "cannot pursue a policy of selective reliability. 

We cannot abandon friends in one part of the world without jeopardizing the security of friends everywhere."3 Columnist James Kilpatrick declared that the United States dared not accept the premise 

that its commitment to freedom beyond its borders was limited unless it was prepared "to accept the decline of the West and the 

ascendancy ofCommunist power throughout the world."4 Vice President Nelson A. Rockefeller predicted the extermination of a million 

Vietnamese in a Communist takeover. If that were true, nothing less 

than a genuine, permanent victory for Saigon would prevent it. No 

one contemplated that any longer. 

On 10 April the president asked Congress for a special appropriation of $722 million in military aid for South Vietnam; he wanted 

an answer, he said, within a week. At the same time he requested 

authority to send sufficient forces into South Vietnam to evacuate 

6,000 Americans and perhaps 200,000 Vietnamese. "Fundamental 

decency," declared the president, "requires that we do everything in 

our power to ease the misery and pain of the monumental human 

crisis which has befallen the people of Vietnam."5 Congress, reflecting the clear opinion of the American people, rejected the administration's appeal. The New York Times expressed its approval: "It is 

inconceivable that a grant of$722 million today-under political and 

military circumstances so different from those of even a few weeks 

ago-could now save the demoralized and shattered armies of 

Saigon. "6 Ford and Kissinger argued that the situation in South 

Vietnam was salvageable, that additional aid would enable Saigon to 

stabilize the country. Under no circumstances, Kissinger reminded 

the press, had the United States the right to determine whether 

South Vietnam should defend itself. The secretary informed the Senate Appropriations Committee on 15 April that the United States 

had a moral obligation to the Saigon regime that extended over many 

years. America's failure to act in accordance with that obligation, he 
AMERICAN l'OREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 195 

declared, would not only bring tragedy to the people of Vietnam but 

also "would invariably influence other nations' perceptions of our 

constancy and determination. American credibility would not collapse, and American honor would not be destroyed. But both would 

be weakened, to the detriment of this Nation and the peaceful world 

order we have sought to build."7 President Ford, on the following 

day, complained that the country faced a human tragedy in Vietnam 

because Congress refused to make a commitment of military and 

economic aid small in comparison to the $150 billion which the 

nation had already spent. It was a shame, he said, "that at the last 

minute of the last quarter we don't make this special effort. .. .It just 

makes me sick."8 

Even as the secretary described the fall of Saigon as an event of 

potentially cataclysmic significance, he neglected to recommend the 

commitment of a single American soldier to save it. Never had the 

chasm between words and policy been greater. Throughout the final 

crisis the administration hoped less to save Saigon than to effect a 

graceful escape from its self-imposed dilemma. The overriding task 

of April 1975 was that of assuring the world that whatever the outcome of the struggle for Vietnam, it would not be the fault of the 

United States. As one American official in Cambodia phrased it, 

"Sometimes you have to go through the motions. Sometimes the 

motions are more important than the substance." To the end, every 

move of the administration was designed to avoid a hard decisioneither to save the Saigon regime or to declare the American commitment terminated. In Saigon President Thieu blamed his troubles on 

the United States. "The failure in (U.S.] military and economic aid 

over the past year," he said, "has ... greatly influenced the spirit of 

our troops and sapped the confidence of our people." In Washington 

Vietnamese Ambassador Tran Kim Phuong observed bitterly, "It is 

safer to be an ally of the Communists, and it looks like it is fatal to 

be an ally of the U.S." Thieu resigned on 21 April under pressure 

from his political opponents and, he added, from the United States 

government. "I never thought a man like Mr. Kissinger," noted the 

departing president, "would deliver our people to such a disastrous 

fate."9 

Meanwhile Ambassador Martin in Saigon hesitated to close the 

book on United States efforts in Southeast Asia. To terminate the 

American mission, he knew, would create panic throughout the city. 

Martin insisted that all Vietnamese associated with the Americans 

would leave Saigon before he did, but he had no plan to accomplish 
196 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

this feat. Don Oberdorfer reported in the Washington Post on 13 April: 

"The contradiction between what is being said and what is being 

done leaves room for misunderstanding and mistrust. Hardly anybody knows what Martin is thinking. " 10 Martin, a true proponent of 

the American cause, delayed the evacuation for another two weeks, 

until the North Vietnamese forces were streaming through the city. 

When word of the order leaked out, thousands ofVietnamese surged 

through the embassy compound, struggling to board the waiting 

helicopters. American marines used tear gas and rifle butts to beat off 

the frantic Vietnamese while the embassy staff scrambled aboard for 

their final flight to safety. 11 By then the struggle for Vietnam had 

receded to the fringes of American consciousness. The escape of the 

Americans from the embassy roof captured the headlines; it scarcely 

captured the emotions of the nation's citizens. 

As Saigon fell Ford and Kissinger urged the American people not 

to Look back. The secretary admitted in his address before the American Society of Newspaper Editors on 17 April that the cost of the 

American involvement in Vietnam had been stupendous. "Whether 

or not this enterprise was well conceived," he cautioned, "does not 

now change the nature of the problem .... The Viet-Nam debate has 

now run its course. The time has come for restraint and compassion."12 The president expressed his convictions to Eric Sevareid on 

21 April: "It seems to me that the American people are yearning for 

a fresh start. . . .A lot of blame can be shared by a good many 

people-Democrats as well as Republicans, Congress as well as Presidents .... It is my judgment, under these circumstances, we should 

look ahead and not concentrate on the problems of the past where a 

good bit of the blame can be shared by many." On 29 April, following the evacuation of American personnel from Saigon, the president 

issued the following statement: "This action closes a chapter in the 

American experience. I ask all Americans to close ranks, to avoid 

recrimination about the past, to look ahead to the many goals we 

share, and to work together on the great tasks that remain to be 

accomplished." 13 At President Ford's press conference on 6 May, 

Helen Thomas of United Press International asked the president if 

he favored a congressional inquiry into the war. "Miss Thomas," he 

replied, "the war in Vietnam is over. It was a sad and tragic affair 

in many respects .... We ought to look ahead, and I think a Congressional inquiry at this time would only be divisive, not helpful." To 

Thomas' question whether the country might learn from the past, the 

president retorted; "I think the lessons of the past in Vietnam have 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 197 

already been learned-learned by Presidents, learned by Congress, 

learned by the American people. And we should have our focus on 

the future. As far as I am concerned, that is where we will concentrate." 14 If the American people would demand no explanation of a 

failed policy at the moment of its collapse, they would not do so 

thereafter. Most Americans had not been touched by the war. For 

them no less than for official Washington, Vietnam no longer mattered. 

II 

It required no official admission of error to know that the war had 

lessons to offer. Perhaps the most pervading was the discovery that 

a democratic government cannot conduct a long, debilitating war in 

some distant land unless it can build and maintain a broad public 

consensus in support of that war. Americans who are asked to die in 

war must understand clearly why their deaths contribute to the 

security and welfare of the United States. Officials anchored the 

war's necessity to the concept of falling dominoes-that the loss of 

South Vietnam would unleash a process of Communist expansion 

from country to country until the Soviet Union, the center of international communism, would threaten the United States directly. 

Thus the United States entered Vietnam both to prevent the 

Kremlin from extending its power across Asia and to prevent World 

War HI. When it became clear by 1966 that the United States would 

not achieve a clear military victory in Vietnam, the rationale for 

involvement shifted to one of protecting the reputatum of the United 

States as a guarantor of world peace and thereby sustaining the 

country's effectiveness elsewhere. That year President Lyndon B. 

Johnson informed a Japanese visitor: "If I tear up the treaty with 

Vietnam I tear up the one I have with you and 42 others .... If I go 

bankrupt in one place, I go bankrupt all over."15 At the same time 

General Maxwell Taylor asserted that the United States would pay 

dearly for defeat in terms of its "worldwide position of leadership, of 

the political stability of Southeast Asia, and of the credibility of our 

pledges to friends and allies." For official Washington, Vietnam 

carried the final burden for establishing America's capacity to manage change peacefully and effectively everywhere. What fed the military escalation was not the president's desire to dispatch more and 

more forces to Southeast Asia, but his refusal to question the need of 

American success in Vietnam.16 
198 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Until the teachins began in the spring of 1965, opposition to the 

war remained statistically insignificant, assuring President Johnson 

broad public support for his initial decision to Americanize the war. 

Thereafter the criticism of the war kept pace with the military escalation as Walter Lippmann, Adlai Stevenson, and such members of 

the Senate as J. William Fulbright, Mike Mansfield, Frank Church, 

and George McGovern began to question the open-ended American 

involvement in Southeast Asia. None of these critics were pacifists; 

none denied that the United States should defend its security with 

war when necessary. But they argued that the official portrayals of 

danger, cast in the guise of falling dominoes, were inaccurate-that 

the loss of Vietnam would not automatically lead to the loss of any 

other region of Asia or the Pacific. They defined the struggle for 

Vietnam as largely an indigenous contest to be resolved by the Vietnamese people themselves, and therefore of little consequence to 

either Washington or Moscow. 

To carry the day against their domestic critics, American officials 

anchored their policies to words and emotions-to high promises of 

success and dire warnings of the consequences offailure-and not to 

a body of clearly recognizable circumstances, such as those created 

by Hitler, which carried their own conviction and recommended 

their own responses. It was not strange that the country divided 

sharply between those who took the rhetoric and admonitions seriously and those who did not. To defend the Vietnam intervention 

with a half million men, Washington was compelled to exaggerate 

the importance of that region to the United States and the rest of the 

world until it had committed more in cost and destruction than the 

results could justify. Editors complained that the administration, in 

setting its goals too high, had ruptured the fabric of national unity 

and compromised other aspects of American life. "The citizens of a 

democratic republic," concluded one Virginia editor, "are properly 

unwilling simply to take the government's word that their national 

interest requires massive expenditures of lives and treasure unless 

they can clearly perceive the danger. They will not support a military 

operation half-way around the globe unless its need can be demonstrated in terms of its importance to [national] security." 17 General 

Frederick C. Weyand, the last American commander in Vietnam, 

phrased the problem in similar terms: "The Army must make the 

price of involvement clear before we get involved, so that Americans 

can weigh the probable costs of involvement against the dangers of 

noninvolvement. For there are worse things than war." 18 In time the 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 199 

war in Vietnam produced far more division at home than victory in 

Asia. In the process it demonstrated that a democracy cannot make 

demands on the lives of its citizens except against dangers to national 

security obvious enough to require little explanation. 

Having failed to create the desired pro-war consensus in the 

United States, both the Johnson and the Nixon adminstrations 

sought to override the opposition to the war with claims to executive 

primacy unprecedented in the nation's history. Under Secretary of 

State Nicholas Katzenbach reminded the Senate Foreign Relations 

Committee in August 1967 that "the expression of declaring war is 

one that has become outmoded in the international arena." Under 

modern conditions, he said, it was for the president alone to determine when and how the armed forces of the United States should be 

used.l9 That same month President Johnson informed a news conference that his administration did not require congressional authorization to commit armed forces, but had asked for the Gulf of Tonkin 

Resolution of August 1964 because, he added, "if we were going to 

ask them to stay the whole route ... we ought to ask them to be there 

at the takeoff. "20 When in 1969, by a vote of seventy to sixteen, the 

Senate passed the National Commitments Resolution designed to 

limit national commitments to actions taken by both the executive 

and legislative branches, the Nixon administration retorted: "As 

Commander-in-Chief the President has the sole authority to command our armed forces, whether they are in or outside the United 

States. And, although reasonable men may differ as to the circumstances in which he should do so, the President has the constitutional 

power to send U.S. military forces abroad without specific Congressional approval. "21 

Actually Congress permitted both administrations to conduct 

their executive war. Congressional majorities simply abdicated to the 

foreign policy managers, seemingly powerless to contest the executive's claims to superior knowledge, much of it kept secret. They, no 

more than members of the administration, moreover, cared to contemplate the price of failure. Even as the war in Southeast Asia 

escalated to a cost of $25 billion a year, its defenders still emerged 

triumpham in Congress. Time after time they won the struggle for 

additional appropriations hands down. A congressional majority underwrote the war in Vietnam from 1961 to 1973 through its power of 

the purse; that war always belonged to Congress as much as to the 

president. With its power of the purse Congress could have terminated the American war at any moment, but it succumbed both 
200 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

to its own convictions and to the threats that it would carry the 

burden of failure should it refuse administration requests. When 

congressional majorities in the summer of 1973 voted to cut off all 

funds for the war in Southeast Asia, a reluctant Nixon administration 

capitulated and brought the lingering American war to an immediate 

halt.22 Until then congressional behavior was no measure of public 

support. Even among the millions who favored the war there were 

few who cared to send their sons to fight it. 

Karl von Clausewitz warned that war rests on the trinity of 

people, army, and government, "[A) theory that ignores any one of 

them," he wrote, " ... would conflict with reality to such an extent 

that for this reason alone it would be totally useless."23 Shortly after 

the end of the Vietnam War, General Weyand issued the same 

injunction: "The American Army really is a people's army .... When 

the American people lose their commitment, it is futile to try to keep 

the Army committed. In the final analysis, the American Army is not 

so much an army of the Executive Branch as it is an arm of the 

American people."24 Thus Vietnam demonstrated, as its second profound lesson, the futility, even the danger, in administrative efforts to 

push a questionable policy onto Congress and the public by relying 

on the special powers available to the executive as commander in 

chief in fashioning and defending the country's military policies. 

Having fought in Vietnam to demonstrate the validity of the 

country's global containment policy, Washington faced the task of 

explaining that the United States, in defeat, need not anticipate the 

continued disasters predicted by the domino theory. Despite what 

occurred in Vietnam, the administration argued, the American position in international affairs remained largely unchanged. Throughout April 1975 President Ford put the best face on the failure of 

United States policy in Southeast Asia. To counter the fear of a 

general American retreat around the globe, the president acknowledged that the connection between what happened in Vietnam and 

the nation's position elsewhere was not as strong as Washington had 

insisted in the past.25 To underscore the country's capacity and will 

to stand firm elsewhere, and thus eliminate the problem of falling 

dominoes, the president assured newsmen in early April: "We will 

stand by our allies and I specifically warn any adversaries they 

should not, under any circumstances, feel that the tragedy of 

Vietnam is an indication that the American people have lost their 

will or their desire to stand up for freedom any place in the world." 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 201 

Thereafter the president simply banished the domino theory from his 

speeches. 26 

Throughout the Vietnam crisis Kissinger addressed the issue of 

United States credibility with caution. In an interview with Pierre 

Salinger of L'Express the secretary admitted that the American retreat from Vietnam "raises questions about wisdom, judgment, and 

effectiveness, and questions about the impact of that setback on the 

psyche of the country .... I believe we have to face the fact that the 

past decade has raised certain doubts about American leadership."27 

At his news conference on 29 April Kissinger again faced questions 

about the domino theory and its possible impact on Southeast Asia. 

"I think it is too early to make a final assessment," he responded. 

"There is no question that the outcome in Indochina will have consequences not only in Asia but in many other parts of the world. To 

deny these consequences is to miss the possibility of dealing with 

them. So, I believe there will be consequences." In his interview with 

Barbara Walters on 3 May, Kissinger admitted that the United 

States government had made an error in using Vietnam as a test 

case; it should have defined the challenge of Communist expansion 

in Vietnamese rather than global terms.28 Again at his news conference at Kansas City on 13 May the secretary addressed the issue of 

falling dominoes: "I have always held the view that any action in 

foreign policy has consequences- that you cannot end these consequences simply by denying that they exist. So a certain domino effect 

is inherent in any action .... It is now important to face the facts that 

we now confront and to deal with them. I believe we can deal with 

them, and we will deal with them. But we can't deny that there have 

been consequences. »29 

Actually the countries of Asia no more than the European allies 

had taken the concept of falling dominoes seriously. Some governments inquired whether the United States intended to honor its 

security commitments to other regions, but the leaders of Malaysia, 

Singapore, the Philippines, Indonesia, and Burma did not regard the 

domino theory an accurate description of reality. Singapore's Prime 

Minister Lee Kuan Yew especially declared that his country had 

never accepted the concept as valid. All members of the Association 

of South East Asian Nations regarded themselves stable; all believed 

that they had developed to the point where guerrillas would have no 

chance against them. Some worried about Thailand because of its 

short supply lines to Laos and its thousand-mile common border 

with Indochina.30 European leaders agreed generally that Vietnam 
202 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

had been an obsession which prevented the United States from placing its energies where its foreign policy interests really lay, namely in 

Europe. Maurice Couve de Murville, chairman of the French National Assembly's Foreign Affairs Committee, explained: "It is always good to be dealing with a reality-and Viet Nam was not a 

reality."31 The fall of Saigon had no effect on Washington's relations 

with Moscow and Peking at all. The reactions of both Communist 

states were restrained, both behaving as if they were neutrals. As 

Tass expressed it, "A most dangerous seat of international tension 

has been liquidated. »32 

For some American analysts as well the country's failure in Vietnam was no reflection of weakness or a measure of its international 

position. What had collapsed was the expectation that money and 

machines could solve the problems ofSoutheast Asia. "What is 'fading,"' wrote James Reston in April, "is not 'America,' but the illusions that we could control events on the continent of Asia, 10,000 

miles from home, and close to the interior military supply lines of 

China and the Soviet Union; that the concept of collective security 

would work in the peasant societies of Southeast Asia as it had 

worked in the advanced industrial societies of Europe."33 Bayless 

Manning, former president of the Council on Foreign Relations in 

New York, recognized the bankruptcy of America's global containment policy. As he recalled later: 

With each passing day, it becomes more difficult for the mind to grasp in 

retrospect the basic facts about the Vietnam chapter in our national history. 

For more than ten years we tried to shore up an inviable regime in a small, 

distant, developing country, and to that end spent $300 billion, gave up 

55,000 American lives, suffered 300,000 casualties, killed and wounded 

millions of Vietnamese, and threatened to tear apart our own domestic body 

politic. We lost perspective on our national interests; we misassessed our 

power; we misunderstood the motivations of others; and we profoundly 

misread the political and social environment of the day. 

Senator M.ike Mansfield of Montana summarized the issue succinctly: "In my opinion the United States is not an Asian power but 

a Pacific power-there's a great difference-and it was that conceptual misjudgment which embroiled us so disastrously in Southeastern Asia. "34 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 203 

III 

Undoubtedly the Vietnam disaster affected the global outlook of 

many Americans, and not merely the critics. Without some public 

education most could not analyze why the policy failed, but in the 

absence of any measurable decline in the nation's security, they 

could only conclude that successive administrations had exaggerated 

the dangers to the United States posed by the struggle for Vietnam. 

Vietnam had long shattered the older consensus that the country 

would pay any price or bear any burden in defense ofliberty. During 

the war's final years public opinion surveys revealed a trend toward 

isolationism. Declining numbers of Americans recognized any need 

for larger defense expenditures or the sending of United States forces 

abroad. Support for the draft gave way to the demand for an allvolunteer army. Congress manifested its skepticism of global containment when it passed the Church Amendment in June 1973, 

which prohibited further American combat in Vietnam. In December of that year it enacted the War Powers Act over the President's 

veto. This measure sought to involve Congress in any future deployment of American forces abroad by limiting purely executive action 

to sixty days. Then in 1976 Congress voted to end covert American 

action in Angola. Meanwhile Congress imposed restrictions on the 

CIA. These measures did not contract the country's established 

obligations abroad, but they did convey a congressional determination to prevent a repetition of the Vietnam experience and that 

largely by curtailing executive dominance of the foreign policymaking process. 

Presidentjimmy Carter responded to this Vietnam syndrome by 

acknowledging America's declining world role and, with that recognition, a diminution of the strategic importance of Asia, Africa, and 

Latin America. His assumption that third world countries had interests of their own and the will to pursue them reinforced his determination to avoid simple anti-Soviet postures to perpetuate the status 

quo. In his Notre Dame University speech ofMay 1977, he rejected 

the traditional cold war assumption that American interests were 

global. "Being confident of our own future," he said, "we are now free 

of that inordinate fear of communism which once led us to embrace 

any dictator who joined us in that fear. "35 For Carter the political, 

economic, and ideological potential of the thjrd world was sufficient 

to eliminate any serious Soviet threat. Secretary of State Cyrus 

Vance spelled out the Carter approach in a statement before the 
204 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

House Foreign Affairs Committee. "To view U.S.-Soviet relations 

from the perspective of a single dimension," he observed, "is to run 

the risk offailing to identify our interests carefully and to act accordingly."36 In deserting the former commitment to global containment 

the Carter administration accepted to growing Soviet presence in 

Africa, the Middle East, and Asia with general unconcern-if often 

to the dismay of those who accused it of assigning world primacy to 

the Soviet Union. If Soviet policy in Africa and the Arabian peninsula was regrettable, it did not, for Carter, endanger American security. Zbigniew Brzezinski, Carter's assistant for national security 

affairs, attributed the public's widespread acceptance of the Carter 

policies to the fact that "the country, as a whole, fatigued by the 

Vietnam War," was not prepared to confront the Soviet Union. 

In Central America the Carter administration, in emphasizing 

human rights, broke with the American tradition of consigning the 

defense of United States security interests to anti-Communist 

regimes. Downplaying national security interests in Nicaragua, as 

elsewhere in the third world, the President refused to commit the 

United States to the support of Anastasio Somoza although he knew 

that Somoza's enemies, the Sandinistas, received aid from Cuba. For 

Carter the Nicaraguan revolution was a legitimate exertion of force 

against a tyrannical regime and held greater promise than the 

Somoza government for a just and democratic society. Indeed, Mexico, Venezuela, Costa Rica, and Panama helped to bring Somoza 

down and finally send him into exile in 1979. Carter's critics detected 

in the administration's pro-Sandinista behavior evidence of an ideological shift away from cold war concerns, a denial that United States 

interests in the third world required active support of antiCommunist elements, and an apparent conviction that the United 

States should employ its military might only with extreme reluctance. 

In the vanguard of those who condemned the Carter administration for its inaction in countering unwanted changes in the international landscape was the Committee on the Present Danger (CPD). 

This committee, led by Eugene Rostow and Paul Nitze, comprised 

largely former generals, admirals, State Department officials, and 

academicians who were troubled by the persistent building of Soviet 

military power and the concomitant failure of the United States to 

oppose Russian activities in Africa and the Middle East especially. 

Going public in October 1976, the CPO argued that the Soviet 

drive for dominance, based on unprecedented military preparations, 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER V I ETNAM 205 

required a much higher level of American defense expenditures. The 

CPO explained its position: " If Soviet dominance of the strategic 

nuclear level is aJlowed to persist, Soviet policymakers may-and 

almost certainly will-feel freer to use force at lower levels, confident 

that the U.S. will shy away from a threat of escalation." Nitze suma~ized the argument for American nuclear superiority: "To have 

the advantage at the utmost level of violence helps at every lesser 

level.,.37 Even as the CPO launched its crusade for military expansion, a government panel, headed by Professor Richard E. Pipes of 

Harvard University, concluded an intelligence estimate of the 

U.S.S.R. with the warning that the Soviets based their planning on 

the assumption that they could win a limited nuclear war, destroying 

American society while losing no more than twenty million Russians. 

Clearly the United States required the power and determination to 

overcome the twin forces of Soviet power and third world nationalism as growing dangers to American security. 

Ignored by President Carter in his advisory appointments, the 

CPO set out to mobilize the public against the administration's 

predictable passivity toward both the U.S.S.R. and the third world. 

Forced to the outside, CPO spokesmen, many of whom were former 

presidential advisers, held a press conference three days after 

Carter's victory in November 1976, to unveil the new Soviet threat. 

During subsequent weeks the committee criticized Carter's appointments and balked especially at the nomination of Pa ul Warnke as the 

new administration's chief arms negotiator. It condemned Carter's 

initial arms proposal for not protecting the country's security. Carter 

met the CPD's challenge by inviting a delegation of its members to 

the White House. The meeting only confirmed the depths of disagreement between the Carter administration and the CPD. To 

rekindle the necessary cold war atmosphere, the committee focused 

on the dangers facing the country, charging that they lay essentially 

in Washington where the administration's emphasis on nationalism 

and interdependence was destroying the country's will to act. T he 

committee challenged Carter's centra l assumption-that in a world 

of triumphant nationalism American power had no legitimate or 

necessary use-by arguing that the Kremlin stood behind the assaults on international stability everywhere.38 Thus for the CPO 

inaction was synonymous with weakness and retreat. 

Amid the continuing domestic ruminations about the administration's failure of nerve, the expanding Soviet-Cuban presence in 

Africa could only embarrass the president. During the spring of 1978 
206 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

State Department officials charged the Kremlin with maintaining 

37,000 Cuban military personnel in twenty African countries. Unwilling to counter this Soviet-Cuban presence in Africa with a direct 

economic or military response, the administration searched in vain 

for some means to multiply the costs to the Kremlin. Finally the 

president, in his Annapolis address of June 1978, accused the Russian leaders of waging an "aggressive struggle for political advantage" in Africa. The challenge was blunt. "The Soviet Union," he 

declared, "can choose either confrontation or cooperation. The 

United States is adequately prepared to meet either choice."39 Many 

in Washington scarcely concealed their satisfaction with the President's new toughness. 

Some analysts challenged the fears that underwrote the administration's changing mood. They reminded the country that Britain, 

France, Portugal, Belgium, Italy, and Spain had abandoned their 

respective possessions in Africa because they found them economically unprofitable and impossible to govern. How others could succeed where the Europeans had failed was not clear. It seemed incredible that African countries which had sought independence for so 

long would willingly become puppets of Cuba or the Soviet Union. 

Most Africans could detect nothing objectionable in Russian behavior, for the Russians and Cubans had gone only where they were 

invited. Nowhere had they broken international law. When New 

York Senator Daniel P. Moynihan and former Secretary Kissinger 

charged that the United States should not have permitted the 

Cubans to enter Ethiopia, the New York Times editorialized: "One 

man says threaten anything, no matter what the chances of making 

good on the threat. The other says never mind the particular stakes 

or possibilities, in geopolitics everything is tied to everything else . 

. . . There, we submit, walks the ghost of Vietnam .... Whatever the 

stakes on the ground, or the possibilities, for geopolitical reasons 

Hanoi had to be stopped .... To resurrect that logic against a President who seeks new techniques for applying American influence 

around the world is a dangerous game indeed. "40 Far better, said the 

Times, to portray the risks and costs to Moscow. Experience suggested that the Kremlin would be no more successful than Washington had been in converting Ethiopia into a bulwark against anything. 

Brzezinski defended the adminstration's policies of inaction by asserting that the fatigue of Vietnam prevented United States counteraction to ward offSoviet and Cuban assistance to Ethiopia; he never 

specified the nature of that counteraction. Perhaps Carter's mistake 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 207 

lay less in his rejection of force than in his neglect of a confrontationist posture which might have maintained the illusion of power 

and will while cloaking the reality of limited intent. If any of his 

critics really wanted an American war in Africa, they never revealed 

it. 

Strategically the Middle East was another matter, made so by its 

gigantic stores of oil, its central location astride the major routes to 

the Orient, and its proximity to the Soviet Union. After the Suez 

crisis of 1956 the United States displaced the British and French to 

become the protector of Middle Eastern stability. To limit Soviet 

influence in the region, Washington offered aid to pro-Western governments under the Eisenhower Doctrine of 195 7, supported Israel 

against the Arab world in an otherwise even-handed policy, and 

sought to transform Iran into a bastion of Middle Eastern security 

with heavy sales of sophisticated military equipment to the shah. 

America's Middle Eastern policy faced its initial test in early 1979 

when a Moslem revolution overthrew the shah, an event which 

dramatized the vulnerability of American power in the Middle East. 

The Carter administration responded with a reassertion of this country's global interests. "The United States," declared Defense Secretary Harold Brown in late February, "is prepared to defend its vital 

interests with whatever means are appropriate, including military 

force where necessary, whether that's in the Middle East or elsewhere." Energy Secretary James Schlesinger added, "The United 

States has vital interests in the Persian Gulf. The United States must 

move in such a way that it protects those interests, even if that 

increases the use of military strength. " 41 The president advocated 

additional arms sales to Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Israel; otherwise 

he continued his policy of inaction. With the seizure of the American 

embassy in November 1979, Iran challenged American sensibilities 

but not American security. For Carter this again eliminated any 

resort to force. Some charged the president with softness, suggesting 

that other policies would have secured the immediate release of the 

embassy personneL 

Carter's apparent failures of 1979, which included, in addition to 

the events in Iran, his frustrated effort to remove a Russian brigade 

from Cuba and his acceptance of the Sandinista revolution in 

Nicaragua, added impetus to the demands for tougher global policies. As early as June 1978, a CBS News-New York Times poll revealed that over half of the American people favored a firmer approach to the Soviet Union. In March 1979, Business Week devoted a 
208 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

special issue to the decline ofUnited States power. It suggested that 

the country had retreated from its former global posture because of 

its reluctance to flex its financial, military, and political muscles in 

accordance with its power and responsibilities.42 During subsequent 

months polls recorded a surge in American opinion toward larger 

defense budgets. Harold Brown encouraged this trend with his observation that Soviet military spending "has shown no response to U.S. 

restraint-when we build, they build; when we cut, they build." 

Kissinger, once the proponent of detente, now advocated new highs 

of strategic competition with the U.S.S.R.43 Following the Iranian 

seizure of November 1979, an ABC News-Louis Harris poll revealed 

that 79 percent of Americans favored an expansion of CIA activities.44 Amid such evidences of a changing national mood President 

Carter could mount no counteroffensive against the Committee on 

the Present Danger and the more and more strident spokesmen of the 

New Right. The President argued that the United States was not 

omnipotent, but that this did not mean the country had given up the 

power or the will to shape the future. It meant only that the challenges of 1979 lay far below the threshold of military action. For the 

Carter administration the lessons of Vietnam were tactical after all. 

IV 

Already facing open challenges to its alleged loss of will in Africa, 

the Caribbean, and the Middle East, where Iran held some fifty 

Americans hostage, the administration reacted to the Soviet invasion 

of Afghanistan in late December 1979 with bewilderment and rage. 

Afghanistan was not a Western interest; nor did Soviet occupation 

alter the world's strategic balance. But for the first time since 1945 

the Russians had used force outside Eastern Europe. The president 

admitted bitterly that the Soviets had taken him in. Unable to ignore 

the Soviet action, the president faced an unfortunate decision. He 

oould either inform the American people that the Soviet invasion, 

while irresponsible, did not touch any vital American interest or 

declare Soviet behavior dangerous to all southwest Asia, thus demanding some form of retaliation. The administration could assume 

far greater public approval for the latter choice. Brzezinski argued 

that the Soviet Union now threatened American interests from the 

Mediterranean to the Sea of japan, especially Pakistan and the states 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 209 

bordering the Persian Gulf On NBC's "Meet the Press" on 20 January the president instructed the nation: "This in my opinion is the 

most serious threat to world peace since the Second World War. 

... It's a threat to an area of the world where the interests of our 

country and those interests of our allies are deeply em bedded. "45 The 

president set forth, accordingly, his Carter Doctrine. "An attempt by 

an outside force to gain control of the Persian Gulf region, " he 

declared in his State of the Union message, "will be regarded as an 

assault on the vital interests of the United States." He continued with 

the warning that such an assault "will be repelled by any means 

necessary, including military force."46 Still the president scarcely 

took his warning seriously. If he suspected that the Soviets had 

embarked on a program to control the oil and sea lanes of the Persian 

Gulf, he would have called, not for embargoes on grain, technology, 

and the Olympics, but for national mobilization. 

What pushed American hawkishness to a new high was the common assumption that the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan exposed all 

southwest Asia to further Soviet encroachment. Explanations of the 

Soviet action as a defense against Moslem extremism in Afghanistan 

and elsewhere seemed irrelevant when balanced against the fact that 

the Russians had gained a strategic position from which they could 

more easily threaten Pakistan, Iran, and the Persian Gulf states. 

When asked in a New York Times interview of 10 February 1980 what 

evidence he had that the Soviets would go further, Professor Pipes 

replied: "No evidence except that it would make no sense to occupy 

Afghanistan for any other purpose. Afghanistan has no natural resources of importance, and the risk of antagonizing the West is very 

high for a bit of mountainous territory with a primitive economy, 

with a population that has never been subdued by any colonial 

power. To run all these risks for the sake of occupying this territory 

seems to make little sense-unless you have some ultimate, higher 

strategic objectives. »47 

This assumption that the Soviet drive into Afghanistan was 

merely the initial maneuver in a strategy to dominate the Middle 

East seemed at last to clarify Russian ambitions. Countless Americans agreed with the president that, as one Virginian phrased it, the 

United States had entered "the most dangerous period in world 

history. Let us make no mistake: the Soviet menace is real." Harry 

Schwartz, former New York Times writer on Soviet affairs, repeated 

the admonition: "The invasion of Afghanistan warns us again of 

what our future will be if this country does not permanently shed its 
210 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

illusions about the goals of the Soviet dictatorship. "48 Arnaud de 

Borchgrave, Newsweek correspondent, wove the crises in Iran, 

Ethiopia, Somalia, Saudi Arabia, and Afghanistan into one chilling 

pattern of Soviet advancement toward the Persian Gulf. The Russians, he related, planned to have the Gulf and more within two 

years. "The subversion of the Persian Gulf states," he wrote, "would 

be the swordthrust, simultaneously opening the Indian Ocean to 

Soviet sea power, the ancient dream of the czars, and strangling the 

industrial economics of the West through a shutoff of oil. ... What is 

happening now is that the situation has become critical enough that 

it is impossible for us to ignore or wish it away."49 

For many writers and public officials the Soviet invasion of 

Afghanistan sounded the death knell of detente. Polls as well as 

reports of newspaper correspondents around the country revealed 

the return of an assertive, Cold War mentality. An editorial in the 

Daily Progress measured the impact of Afghanistan on the American 

mind: 

The Soviet Union, in its rape of Afghanistan, accomplished in a single blow 

what learned studies, measured warnings, and position papers could not 

attain-it shocked awake the American people and put to an end the 

post-Vietnam lethargy which this country suffered in the late 1970s. Perhaps the signs were there earlier in the decade when the Soviets sent their 

Cuban surrogates into Africa to organize armed insurrections in Angola and 

Ethiopia, but the numbness from Vietnam still governed. It took a direct, 

armed invasion of a nonaligned nation to get our attention.50 

Indeed, to those who shared such reactions. the Soviet invasion recalled, not the tragic misadventure in Vietnam, but rather the early 

aggressions of Nazi Germany; the United States, therefore, had no 

choice but to resist if it would prevent another Munich. At issue for 

many Americans in the Afghan crisis was not merely Russian aggressiveness or even Middle Eastern oil, but the alleged weakening of 

American power and the need to do something about it. For them the 

Kremlin's imperialistic behavior revealed not only a decline in the 

essential cautiousness of Soviet leaders but also a diminishing respect 

for American power. United States-Soviet relations, it seemed, were 

moving toward some form of confrontation which Washington was 

powerless to prevent. If the United States would resume its world 

role and protect the Middle East against further aggression it was 

essential that Russia and the world understand that Vietnam had not 

Jeft the United States weak and lacking in determination.51 

Congress quickly displayed its own adherence to the new nationalism. The president himself set the issues for debate in his State of 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 211 

the Union message when he called for additional military outlays of 

5 percent above inflation (an increase of $15.3 billion), a stronger 

United States military presence in the Indian Ocean, and a 

" registtation" for a draft-all in addition to a boycott of the Moscow 

Olympics and a limit on the export of grain and technology to the 

Soviet Union. With few dissenting voices Congress backed the president's proposals for tightening American military facilities around 

the rim of the Indian Ocean, a region that Carter had once sought 

to demilitarize. "Even the most rational and most cautious members 

are going to ride this bandwagon no matter what their doubts about 

particular spending proposals," said Senator Edmund S. Muskie of 

Maine. "We've been aware all along that the Russians were close to 

the jugular of our oil supplies but practically no one thought they'd 

reach for the jugular. Now, there's the fear they might."52 Congressional leaders argued that the CIA should be restored to its rightful 

place as the country's primary agency for dealing with the world of 

realpolitik. The president's reversal of attitude toward Vietnam and 

the U.S.S.R., placing him at last on the side of the congressional 

hawks, brought this retort from columnist William Satire: "Having 

lost the geopolitical lead in the fourth quarter, Carter sends in a new 

team to play catch-up ball. Hawks made themselves heard when 

hawkishness was out of style; now that the Soviet embrace of'the war 

process' has caused even Carter to reassess his naive policies, it 

would be good for doves to speak out about Cold War II while hard 

decisions are being made. "53 Within the administration Secretary of 

State Cyrus Vance was the special victim of the new belligerency. His 

resignation in the spring of 1980 symbolized the decline of the Vietnam syndrome in American thought and emotions. 

What characterized much of the reconsideration of the Vietnam 

War, both before and after the Mghan crisis, was the renewed insistence that there had been nothing wrong with the war's design or the 

assumptions that motivated it. The tide of human misery that swept 

across Southeast Asia after the fall of Saigon seemed to demonstrate 

the justice of the American cause. If the war was neither ignoble nor 

immoral and successive presidents had acted solely to protect the 

interests of the United States, the accusations that one or more had 

behaved unwisely were without foundation. As one former Foreign 

Service officer phrased it: "Our decision to intervene militarily in 

Vietnam was - in hindsight-bad judgment, but, given the political 

assumptions which we all shared a generation ago, it was both sound 

and honorable. Besides acting to protect our interests as we saw 
212 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

them, we did our best to protect an unwarlike people, however corrupt and undeserving, from the fate which inevitably overtook them 

a couple of years after the withdrawal of our troops. "54 Guenter 

Lewy's massive study, America in Vietnam (1978), arrived at the same 

conclusion: "The commitment to aid South Vietnam was made by 

intelligent and reasonable men who tackled an intractable problem 

in the face of great uncertainties, including the future performance of 

an ally and the actions and reactions of an enemy. The fact that some 

of their judgments in retrospect can be shown to have been flawed 

and that the outcome has been a fiasco does not make them villains 

or fools." Had Hitler conquered Britain, Lewy continued, "this 

would not have proven wrong Churchill's belief in the possibility and 

moral worth of resistance to the Nazis. "55 The assumption that the 

threats posed by the North Vietnamese were comparable to those 

posed by Hitler demonstrated again that the central issue in the 

Vietnam War was not winning or losing but the character of the 

interests and dangers that gave the war its meaning. 

If the postwar oppression of the Vietnamese people was predictable, its prevention required an American victory. Now for some 

that victory seemed possible. The United States had failed, not because of the ends that it pursued, but because of the insufficient and 

ineffective use of power. The lessons of the war were strategic; another war, fought with a different strategy, would end with success 

and honor. For some writers the United States lost the war, not on 

the battlefield, but on the home front. Writing in Encounter ,journalist 

Robert Elegant argued that misreporting by a hostile press undermined a successful military effort. Elegant's judgment was severe: 

For the first time in modern history, the outcome of a war was determined 

not on the battlefield, but on the printed page and, above all, on the 

television screen. Looking back coolly, I believe it can be said (surprising as 

it may still sound) that South Vietnamese and American forces actually won 

the limited military struggle. They virtually crushed the Viet Cong in the 

South ... ; and thereafter they threw back the invasion by regular North 

Vietnamese divisions. None the Jess, the War was finally lost to the invaders 

afler the United States disengagement because the political pressures built 

up by the media had made it quite impossible for Washington to maintain 

even the minimal material and moral support that would have enabled the 

Saigon regime to continue effective resistance.56 

Assuming that the West, but especially the United States, had been 

demoralized by the fall of Saigon, Elegant wondered whether 

"Angola, Afghanistan, and Iran would have occurred ifSaigon had 

not fallen amid nearly universal odium-that is to say, ifthe 'Viet 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 213 

Nam Syndrome,' for which the press ... was largely responsible, had 

not afflicted the Carter Administration and paralyzed American 

wilJ."57 Others found the explanation for defeat in the antiwar movement in the United States. Lewy's judgment of the war critics was 

harsh, but typical of those who defended the war: "The opponents of 

the war had a constitutional right to express their views, but it was 

folly to ignore the consequences of this protest. American public 

opinion indeed turned out to be a crucial 'domino'; it influenced 

military morale in the field, the long-drawn-out negotiations in Paris, 

the settlement of 1973, and the cuts in aid to South Vietnam in 1974, 

a prelude to the final abandonment in 1975. "58 

That the loss of Vietnam had damaged the nation's security 

seemed clear from the apparent evidence of falling dominoes in Asia, 

Africa, and elsewhere. State Department officer Lawrence S. 

Eagleburger declared in a New York Times interview: "I don't care 

what anybody says about the domino theory having been discredited 

in Southeast Asia ... .If you were a Cambodian or a Laotian you 

might argue that there was something in the theory."59 Actually, the 

Communist-led turmoil in Laos and Cambodia erupted during the 

war itself; the American failure to control Vietnam permitted no 

occasion for resolving the other conflicts within the borders of the 

former Indochina. Beyond Indochina the countries of Southeast 

Asia, the real dominoes of the Vietnam War because of their contiguity to Indochina and to each other, thrived in the war's aftermath as 

never before. Prosperous and confident of their future, they enjoyed 

an economic growth twice the global average. During the war Singapore's leaders had revealed their insecurity from time to time; after 

the fall of Saigon Singapore emerged as one of Asia's major success 

stories. Indeed, all of the countries of Southeast Asia fared far better 

than victorious Vietnam. The only unstable non-Communist government in the region was the American-backed Marcos regime in the 

Philippines.60 Looking beyond Southeast Asia, those who questioned 

the suppositions of falling dominoes never argued that the Vietnamese conflict comprised the final assault on international stability. 

They argued only that instability elsewhere would result from indigenous forces that had no relationship to the Vietnam experience. 

Certainly the sources of the scattered upheavals in Angola, Ethiopia, 

Nicaragua, and elsewhere did not Jay in Vietnam. 

Finally, the concept of falling dominoes assumed the existence of 

a Communist monolith, coordinated and directed by the Kremlin. 

Vietnam demonstrated that there was no monolith after all. Russia 
.214 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

and China had long been at odds throughout Asia. Following the fall 

of Saigon, China invaded Communist-led Vietnam, not the countries 

ofSoutheast Asia. The Vietnamese occupied portions of Cambodia, 

not to expand communism, but to challenge the Chinese presence. 

The Vietnamese government assigned Cam Ranh Bay to the Soviet 

Union as a military base, but even its ties to Russia were no guarantee of security against China. At the same time the Kremlin had little 

influence in the renamed Ho Chi Minh City. Torn by strife among 

its Communist factions, Southeast Asia emerged from the Vietnam 

War as one of the world's least troublesome regions. 

Much of the new scholarship on the Vietnam War in the late 

1970s reflected the country's changing mood by dwelling less on the 

ends of policy-evaluating the need of victory to prevent the losses 

in Asia and the Pacific that the theory of falling dominoes predicted-than on the failure of means to achieve the desired military 

successes. The new writings suggested that Lyndon Johnson was less 

fearful of Communist expansion in Southeast Asia than in the loss of 

his congressional support in Washington for his Great Society program. By prosecuting the war J ohnson managed to protect his program from the right in Congress. Ultimately the Great Society became the victim of the war's mounting costS. Studies of the inner 

history of all the administrations from John F. Kennedy to Richard 

Nixon reveal that none of them were confident of success in Vietnam 

or developed any plan for victory. Each administration anticipated 

little more than the chance to pass the war on to the next administration. Nixon's Vietnamization program was never designed for victory; rather it de-Americanized the war under conditions that were 

satisfactory to most Americans. So limited was official strategy in 

Vietnam that military leaders suspected from the beginning that 

there would be no victory. As to the enemy, new research suggested 

that the Viet Cong guerrillas were not popular among the peasants 

and that the North Vietnamese forces were scarcely paragons of 

virtue. The wartime perceptions of Viet Gong success, it appears, 

were greatly exaggerated. The Tet offensive of early 1968 was such 

a disastrous defeat for the South Vietnamese insurgents that North 

Vietnamese regulars replaced them and turned the war finally into 

one between North and South.61 

In focusing on slrategy, administrative behavior, and the nature 

of the enemy, much of the new writing avoided the real issues of the 

war-why it was fought and why it had to be won. In upholding the 

war the new scholarship often took aim at the more romantic and 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 215 

ideological elements in the antiwar movement. The main body of the 

war's opponents never believed the VietCong autonomous, virtuous, 

or popular. For them the strategic restraints of the successive administrations were clear from the war's record itself. What troubled the 

war critics was not the quality of the strategy or leadership but their 

doubts that the United States could ever win the war in Southeast 

Asia at a cost acceptable to the American public and compatible with 

other, more important, national interests.62 Certainly the new scholarship corrected the record on matters of fact, but to the extent that 

much of it failed to examine the war's political and intellectual context it ran the risk of burying whatever lessons the war had to offer. 

v 

If President Carter's sense of betrayal over Soviet behavior created a catalyst for a near-revolution in the country's global outlook, 

the new mood did not capture all Americans. Many analysts rejected 

outright the official estimate that the Soviets had made a calculated 

move into Afghanistan to dominate the oil fields and sea lanes of the 

Middle East. Nor did they regard the Soviet move a threat to world 

peace. The Kremlin, it seemed, had long understood the limited 

possibilities of its strategic position in Hungary, Czechoslovakia, and 

East Germany; similarly the occupation of Afghanistan, some argued, was no measure of Soviet intentions toward the regions beyond. It was doubtful that the Russians would run the risk of a direct 

Soviet-American conflict in the Persian Gulf. James Reston reminded his readers in the New York Times that Soviet leaders could 

remember the last war with its horrors for the Russian people; such 

men, he said, understood the need for avoiding war.63 Few questioned the importance of the Persian Gulf region to the Western 

world. Still, the widespread addiction to Arab oil fa iled to eliminate 

doubts regarding the appropriateness of the American response to 

the Afghan crisis. In its commitment to the defense of Middle Eastern oil the country for the first time in its history created a vital 

interest beyond its control. Any regional war that involved the big 

powers would begin with the oil's destruction, either by the United 

States or by the Soviet Union. Even if it could be defended, was 

Arab oil of sufficient importance that a thermonuclear war fought to 
216 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

determine its disposition was preferable to a reduction in the American standard of living?64 

In a world of ill-defined interests and dangers it remained exceedingly difficult to know what particular challenges created issues 

worth the annihilation of much of the world. It was far easier to 

advocate a strong American position in the Indian Ocean than to 

envision a war in that region and to what it would lead. Lewis H. 

Lapham, the editor of Harper's, reminded those who saw threats to 

American security in such remote areas of the globe that a previous 

generation had gone to war over the murder of an Austrian archduke 

without evaluating either the necessities or the consequences: " In 

August, 1914, none of the Allied or Central Powers could explain its 

reasons for going off to the first world war. Four years later, after 

20 million soldiers had died in the trenches, the governments in 

question still could not give a plausible reason for the killing. The 

best that anybody could do was to say that the war had been fought 

to end aU wars, that its purpose had been to establish a world order 

free from the depredations of power politics. But who now expects 

another war in Asia to bring about a lasting peace or a better 

world?"65 

Not once did the Carter administration explain why the Soviet 

invasion of Afghanistan endangered all of southwest Asia, much less 

how the United States intended to defend the region. State and 

Defense Department officials agreed that the United States could not 

confront the Soviets successfully along Russia's southern flank. 

Europe's refusal to respond to the Soviet invasion with any sense of 

alarm created additional impediments to the creation of an adequate 

defense in the Middle East. 66 The European allies, no less than some 

American observers, believed that the president had miscalculated 

the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan; they assumed that the Russians 

acted to protect their borders, not to send their forces to the Persian 

Gulf. Some analysts wondered, moreover, how the United States 

could fashion an effective containment strategy for the Middle East 

when the dangers to regional stability lay less in Soviet expansionism 

than in the local and national animosities that existed within the 

region itself. United States power, whatever its magnitude, could not 

be the controlling element in the Middle East. Regional conflicts 

there, as the recent past had demonstrated again, lay far below the 

threshold of war. Indeed, the demand for greater preparedness rested 

less on its possible contribution to the management of Middle Eastern affairs than on the assumption that the U.S.S.R. was building its 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLlCY AFTER VIETNAM 217 

military might to hold the United States and the world helpless in its 

power. The Carter Doctrine, in short, did not create a strategic policy 

for the Middle East. As the New York Times editorialized on 27 January 1980: 

There is no firm terrain on which to build Mr. Carter's new wall of containment. Military pacts and bases will not stand up well in the region's political, ethnic and religious storms. Importing American power will arouse as 

many radicals as it will reassure conservatives, without resolving their 

conflicts .... Stability in the region from Turkey to Pakistan is a long-term 

project that cannot be designed or paid for by Americans alone. The 

regimes that profit most from the area's oil, and the allies who crave it, need 

to be partners in defending that treasure. Less Western dependence on oil 

remains essential to any defense. And so, paradoxically, do relations with 

Moscow that could be used to induce future Soviet restraint.67 

Such words of caution could not halt the continued demolition of 

the Vietnam syndrome. There was in 1980 a new militancy in the 

land, a renewed demand for national defense, attitudes toward war 

that would have been impossible five years earlier, and a heightened 

concern for the malevolent forces in the world. Obviously for countless Americans the lessons of Vietnam had faded, if indeed they had 

ever been recognized. Peter Marin questioned the wisdom of the 

country's outlook in Harper's: 

Whether it be the Nicaraguan revolution, the hostage crisis, the rise in 

OPEC prices, the Russian invasion of Afghanistan, or the fighting in Iraq 

and Iran, our inability to control events and our inept response to them 

have demanded from us a rethinking of our political and moral relation to 

the world. But we neglect this crucial task. Instead, we have lapsed happily 

into the familiar attitudes that marked the Cold War in the Fifties and the 

Asian debacle of the Sixties: we clench our fists and mutter comforting 

platitudes to ourselves, cheerfully lost among the same illusions that proved 

so disastrous a decade ago. 

It is fashionable now, in some circles, to see this renewed military hubris as 

both inevitable and necessary. We are told that we are merely leaving 

behind, as we must, guilt that paralyzed us for a decade after the war in 

Vietnam. But that, I think, misstates the case. What paralyzed us was not 

simply the guilt felt about Vietnam, but our inability to confront and 

comprehend that guilt: our refusal to face squarely what happened and why, 

and our unwillingness to determine, in the light of the past, our moral 

obligations for the future.68 

Lost in the effort to forget the war and thereby eliminate the guilt and 

restraint that inflicted the memory were the veterans, driven to silence by a country's refusal to listen, often to drug addiction and 

suicide. Lost as well was the war's cost to generations ofVietnamese. 
218 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

But the ultimate significance of the perennial effort to erase the 

memory of Vietnam, a task eased by the Soviet invasion of 

Afghanistan, was its failure to create a new national consensus. That 

failure left the country as divided in 1980 on matters of external 

policy as it had been at the height of the Vietnam War. Only the 

absence of fighting clouded the existing disagreements. Unfortunately a seriously divided nation, as the Vietnam War illustrated, 

cannot sustain a costly foreign policy over time. There were few 

circumstances and few issues around the world which would permit 

the United States to wage a major war with the full support of the 

American people. To that extent the disagreements that characterized the American outlook on world affairs were potentially dangerous to the country's welfare and security. What conceivable crisis 

would unifY rather than further divide the country was not apparent. 

Experience should teach some basic truths about proper and promising approaches to external affairs; successes and failures alike are 

replete with the materials for instruction. The Vietnam War itself, so 

divisive and so damaging to the nation's interests both at home and 

abroad, should have furnished ample lessons upon which Americans 

could agree. Tragically, it did not do so. The public can learn from 

experience only to the extent that government leaders evaluate past 

decisions openly and offer the nation that education which alone can 

compensate it for the costs of mistaken policy. New challenges create 

new problems and the possibilities for new mistakes. The Soviet 

invasion of Afghanistan was such a challenge, unrelated to Vietnam 

because of the direct Soviet involvement. But that invasion, in rekindling the cold war, managed also to eliminate much of the remaining 

memory of Vietnam and the restraints which that costly experience 

once seemed to impose on the country's global outlook. Nations with 

the capacity to learn should not repeat the errors of the past. Such 

luxuries no people can afford. 

NOTES 

I. Kissinger's News Conference of29 April 1975, in Department of State Bulletin 

72 {19 May 1975): 631. 

2. Newsweek, I 0 March 197 5, p. 22; Arlen J. Large in the Wall Street jouffl1ll, 4 Apr 

75. 

3. Kissinger's Press Conference, 26 March 1975, The Secretary of State Press 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLIC Y AFI'ER VIETNAM 219 

Conference, p. I , Bureau of Public Affairs, Office of Media Services. For views that 

the United States keep its conscience clear, see Austin Scott in the Washington Post, 

13 Apr 75. 

4. Kilpatrick in the Daily Progress (Charlottesville, Va.), 9 Mar 75. 

5. Address Before the Joint Session of the Congress Reporting on United States 

Foreign Policy, 10 April 1975, Public Papers of the Pre.ridt:nls of the United States: Gerald 

R. Ford, 1975, vol. I (Washington, 1977), p. 463. 

6. Editorial, New York Times, 13 Apr 75. 

7. Kissinger's Statement Before the Senate Commjttee on Appropriations, 15 

April 1975, The Secretary of State Statement, Bureau of Public Affairs, Office of 

Media Services. For the view that the situation in South Vietnam was salvageable, 

see Kissinger's News Conference at Palm Springs, 5 April 1975, in Department of 

State Bullttin 12 (28 April 1975): 553; Ford's Remarks at the Annual Convention of 

the American Society of Newspaper Editors, 16 April 1975, in Public Papers of the 

Presidmh: Ford, 1975, p. 498. 

8. See William Gaddis, "The Rush for Second Place," Harper's 262 (April 1981 ): 

31; Public Papers of the Presidents: Ford, 1975, p. 504. 

9. Newsweek, 14 April 1975, p. 19; the Daily Progress, 21 Apr 75. 

10. Don Oberdorfer in the Washington Post, 13 Apr 75. 

II. On the evacuation, see Dennis Troute, "Last Days in Saigon," Harper's 251 

Uuly 1975): 45-60. 

12. Kissinger's Address Before the American Society of Newspaper Editors, 17 

April 1975, in Department of State Bulletin 72 (5 May 1975): 558. 

13. Interview with Walter Cronkite, Eric Sevareid, and Bob Schieffer of CBS 

News, 21 April 1975, in Public Papers of the Presidents: Ford, 1975, p. 545; Statement 

of29 April 1975, in ibid., p. 605. 

14. The President's News Conference, 6 May 1975, in ibid., p. 641. 

15. Johnson quoted in Lift, 60 (3 J une 1966): 36B. Assistant Secretary of Defense 

John T . McNaughton developed the theme that the United States should seek only 

to preserve its reputation in his noted memorandum of 17 January 1966, in NeilS. 

Sheehan et al. (eds.), The Pentagon Papers as Published by the New York Times (New York, 

1971 ), p. 502. 

16. Secretary of State Dean Rusk often argued for an American victory in Vietnam to sustain America's global position. His statement of February 1966, was 

typical: "What we face in Vietnam is ... the need to check the extension of Communist power in order to maintain a reasonable stability in a precarious world." See 

"The News of the Week in Review," New York Times, 20 Feb 66. 

17. Editorial, "The Lessons of Vietnam," the Daily Progress, 23 Apr 75. 

18. Quoted in Fox Butterfield, "The New Vietnam Scholarship," New York Times 

Maga.r.ine , 13 February 1983, p. 54. 

19. Katzenbach's Statement to the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, 17 August 1967, in Department of State Bulletin 57 (I I September 1967): 333-36. 

20. New York Times, 19 Aug 67. 

21. Quoted in D. L. Robinson, "Presidential Autocracy and the Rule of Law," 

Worldvitw 16 (March 1973): I I. 

22. For a detailed study of this episode, see Norman A. Graebner, "Presidential 

Power and Foreign Affairs," in Charles W. Dunn, ed., The Future of the American 

Presi'timq (Morristown, N.J., 1975), pp. 196-98. 

23. On Clausewitz's view of the importance of popular will in war, see Colonel 

Harry G. Summers, Jr., "What is War?" Harper's 268 (May 1984): 75-78. 

24. General Weyand quoted in Harry G. Summers, Jr., On Strategy: The Jlittnam 

War in Context (Carlisle Barracks, Pa., 1981), p. 7. 
220 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

25. Arlen J. Large in the WalJ Strut Journal, 4 Apr 75. 

26. Editorial, "Mr. Ford's Post-Vietnam Foreign Policy," Washington Post, 13 Apr 

75. 

27. Kissinger's Interview with Pierre Salinger, 12 April 1975, in Department of 

Slate Bulletin 72 (12 May 1975): 608. 

28. Kissinger's News Conference of 29 April 1975, in ibid., 72 {19 May 1975): 

626; Kissinger's Interview with Barbara Walters for the "Today" show, 3 May 1975, 

in ibid., 72 (26 May 1975): 669. 

29. Kissinger's News Conference at Kansas City, 13 May 1975, in ibid., 72 

(2June 1975): 733-34. 

30. "Southeast Asia Reacts," the Daily Progress, 2 May 75; Washington Post, 13 Apr 

75. 

31. Time, 19 May 1975, p. 29. 

32. Joseph Kraft in the Washing~n Post, 4 May 75; James Reston in the Daily 

Progrus, 3 May 75. 

33. Reston in the New York 1imes, 13 Apr 75. 

34. Mansfield quoted in Parade, 4 May 1975, p. 4. 

35. "A Foreign Policy Based on America's Essential Character," Department of 

State Bulletin 76 {13 June 1977): 622. 

36. Vance's Statement Before the House Committee on International Relations, 

19 June 1978, in ibid., 78 (August 1978): 14. 

37. These two quotations are taken from Jerry W. Sanders, "Para-Institutional 

Elites and Foreign Policy Consensus," a paper prepared for a conference at the 

White Burkett Miller Center of Public Affairs, University of Virginia, 28-29 September 1984, p. II. 

38. Ibid., pp. 19-21. 

39. For Carter's Annapolis speech, see New York Times, 9 J un 78; Newsweek, 19 

June 1978, pp. 41-44; and 1ime, 19 June 1978, pp. 32-33. 

40. "The Ghosts of Vietnam," New York Times, 4 J un 78. 

41. Brown and Schlesinger quoted in Donald E. Neuchterlein, "Persian Gulf 

Region Vital for Nationallnterests," the Daily Progress, 25 Nov 79. 

42. "The Decline of U.S. Power," Business Week, no. 2576 {12 March 1979): 

39-42. The article blamed American weakness on policies set in motion by the 

American failure in Vietnam. 

43. See George F. Will in Newsweek, 25June 1979, p. 104; Kissinger's views noted 

in Stephen S. Rosenfeld in the Washington Post, 3 Aug 79. 

44. For an excellent survey of American opinion, see Dave Gergen in the Washington Star, 6 Apr 80. 

45. Interview on "Meet the Press," 20 January 1980, in Department of State 

Bulletin 80 (March 1980): 29. 

46. See Leslie H. Gelb, "Beyond the Carter Doctrine," New York Times Mag~int, 

10 February 1980, pp. 18- 19. 

47. Interview with Richard E. Pipes in "The Week in Review," New York Times, 

10 Feb 80. 

48. Editorial page, the Daily Progress, 4 Jan 80; Newsweek, 28January 1980, p. 8. 

49. See Editorial, the Daily Progress, 18 May 80. 

50. Editorial, ibid., 25 Feb 80. 

51. Editorial, New York Times, 3 Feb 80. 

52. See Hedrick Smith in "The Week in Review," ibid., 27 Jan 80. 

53. Sa fire in the Daily Progress, 17 Jan 80. 

54. See Emmett B. Ford, Jr., in ibid., 17 Jul 77. 

55. Guenter Lewy, America in Vietnam (New York, 1978), p. 440. Norman 

Podhoretz took this view in his book, Why We Were in Vietnam (New York, 1982). 
AMERICAN FOREIGN POLICY AFTER VIETNAM 221 

56. Robert Elegant, "How to Lose a War: Reflections of a Foreign Correspondent," EncounJer 51 (August 1981): 73. 

57. Ibid. 

58. Lewy, Ananic4 ill Vut1U1111, p. 436. 

59. Interview with David Binder and Bernard Gwertzman in "The Week in 

Review," NnD York TI11W, 22 Apr 84. 

60. Don Oberdorfer, "Rather Than Fall After Vietnam, The 'Dominoes' Have 

Prospered," Waslti11glqn Post Natimt.al Wnkly Edilum, 13 August 1984, p. 16. 

61. For a valuable, but generally uncritical, survey of recent literature on the 

Vietnam War, see Fox Butterfield, "The New Vietnam Scholarship," New York TUMs Magazi~~e, 13 February 1983, pp. 26-35, 45-62. 

62. See letters to the editor, especially that of Stanley Hoffman, in ibid., 20 March 

1983, p. 110. 

63. See Reston in the Dtriiy Progress, 26 May 80. 

64. See George F. Kenna.n's criticism of the Garter response to the crisis in the 

New York Tmus, 1 Feb 80. 

65. Lewis H. Lapham, "Voices Prophesying War," Harper's 260 (April 1980): 18. 

66. For the European reaction, see Hedrick Smith in "The Week in Review," New 

York Times, 27 Jan 80. 

67. Editorial, New York TUMS, 21 Jan 80. 

68. Peter Marin, "Coming to Terms with Vietnam," Harper's 261 (December 

1980): 41. 
,...._.__ 

. ' ... ., f 

.,. 

• 1<1 .j J . I •J 

. •' ·- '. I 
Commentary 

Richard D. Challener 

With Norman Graebner's paper on the foreign policy aftermath 

ofVi,etnam we are marching into a pockmarked landscape far different from the terrain that we traversed yesterday. There's something 

called the Vietnam syndrome which inhibits the actions and responses of presidents and administrations in the 1970s. It's a time 

when administrations also seem to want to bury the lessons of Vietnam, and when there's worry that the public response to Vietnam is 

beginning to turn America into a helpless, pitiful giant losing its 

credibility. 

If I understand the paper properly, Dr. Graebner first focuses 

upon a few of the presumed lessons of Vietnam-the lesson, first, 

that a democracy cannot conduct a long, debilitating war in a distant 

land without a broad public consensus behind it. Second, since no 

admiinistration ever established such a consensus-never succeeded 

in making a case that the national security was in danger-both the 

Johnson and Nixon administrations "sought to override the opposition ... with claims to executive primacy unprecedented in the nation's history." Thus-and this is Norman's second salient lessonthe futility, the danger of administrative efforts to push questionable 

policies on the Congress and the public relying on the special powers 

of the president as commander in chief. 

After a few comments about the attempts of the Ford administration to practice damage control, he launches into an extended and 

not very sympathetic critique of Jimmy Carter's foreign policy, 

noting how, in part due to the Vietnam syndrome, Carter started 

with inaction but eventually-spurred on both by Soviet actions 

abroad and the Committee on the Present Danger at home-moved 

ultimately to anti-Soviet militancy and posturing. Along the way he 

examines with some sympathy the so-called new scholarship on Vietnam, especially the arguments of those who now maintain that it 

223 
224 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

wasn't as immoral as many once argued, of those who argued that 

the system worked, that the U.S. could have won if it had used more 

of its power, and that it was the antiwar protestors who caused the 

American defeat. 

He closes his paper by noting that, as of 1980, there was a new 

militancy in the Iand- a new militancy caused in part by this new 

Vietnamese scholarship, a new militancy that demanded more expenditures for national defense and was increasingly anti-Soviet. The 

lessons ofVietnam, he argues, had been forgotten, if they'd ever been 

recognized. But, worst of all, no new foreign policy consensus had 

emerged in America-that we're as far apart now as we were at the 

height of the Vietnam War. Vietnam, which should have provided 

lessons, had not done so-in part because of the long effort of the new 

Vietnamese scholarship to erase those lessons, in part also because 

successive administrations sought to put the war behind them, were 

unwilling to analyze and evaluate it, sought to bury it, failed to 

educate the American public about what had gone wrong and, instead, like Henry Kissinger, kept saying it is time to get ahead with 

the future. 

This is a provocative thesis-and I certainly cannot quarrel with 

the several lessons he puts forth-though I do wish that he had 

mentioned Korea, because it was Korea which first raised the question of the ability of American democracy to wage an unpopular war 

in a distant area and, as I recall it, there was considerable literature 

in the 1950s about the problems of limited war. And certainly one of 

the reasons why Eisenhower did not intervene at the time of Dien 

Bien Phu was because of the Korean experience and the Republican 

desire to have no more wars like Korea. But it seems to me that 

Professor Graebner was too modest in compiling his list of lessons 

from Vietnam. Most of us in this room, I suspect, could readily pull 

from our own mental filing cabinets a considerable series of lessons 

whenever the subject turns to El Salvador or Lebanon. But I do wish 

tlhat Professor Giaebner had said a bit more about the war in Vietnam as a revolution, about the determined, implacable resolution of 

the North Vietnamese, and the unwillingness, or inability, of official 

Washington-with perhaps the exception of the CIA-to realize the 

full implications of these facts. If he had, he might, for example, not 

attribute Carter's inaction so much to the Vietnam syndrome but 

credit Carter, especially in Latin America and to some extent in Iran, 

for recognizing the problems, the dilemmas of trying to cope with 
COMMENTARY 225 

indigenous revolution by applications of American force and coercion. 

I also feel-and here I confess to being totally unreconstructedthat Professor Graebner takes the new Vietnamese scholarship too 

seriously and at face value. I say this with full appreciation for Peter 

Braestrup's convincing arguments about the way in which the media 

misrepresented the Tet offensive. Professor Graebner, to be sure, 

does say " by failing to examine the political and intellectual content 

of the war, the new scholarship ran the risk of burying the issues of 

the war." And, as I just noted, he does blame this new scholarship 

for affecting the American memory of the war and contributing to the 

new militancy of the late 1970s. But I wish also that he had looked 

at some of the criticism of the new scholarship. Walter LaFeber, for 

example, has pointed out that the United States in Southeast Asia 

dropped three times the weight of all the bombs it had dropped in the 

entirety of World War II in both Europe and Asia. He pointed out 

that the use of additional power in Vietnam raised the specter of 

Chinese intervention. But above all is the very way in which johnson 

and Nixon chose to prosecute the war and the way they chose to end 

it by corrupting American values at home, undermining some of our 

basic institutions, and destroying the faith of many in our political 

leadership, including, for a considerable period of time, faith in the 

presidency itself. 

My principal problem with the paper arises out of Professor 

Graebner's statement that by 1980 "there was a new militancy in the 

land, a renewed demand for national defense, attitudes which would 

have been impossible five years earlier, and a heightened concern for 

the malevolent forces in the world." I'm just not sure-even granted 

the possible influence of the new Vietnamese scholarship and the 

Committee on the Present Danger- how he gets there from the War 

Powers Act of 1973 and even fromjimmy Carter's 1977 speech about 

America having outgrown its fears of communism. 

Let me suggest, as a hypothesis, as a way of stirring up discussion, a slightly different scenario. I've always felt that there were two 

quite separable and distinct antiwar movements in the United 

States. One group was composed largely of academics, intellectuals, 

and, above all, alienated youth who opposed the war on moral and 

ethical grounds. The other wing of the antiwar movement-and, I'd 

argue, a larger and the more influential group--were those who 

opposed the war on pragmatic grounds, on the grounds simply that 

we couldn't win it and that it was costing too much. That group is 
226 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

typified by Wall Street which by the late 1960s and early 1970s was 

rallying whenever there were rumors of peace. Moreover, this second 

group mistrusted, even hated, the student movement and the intellectuals, regarded them as scruffy, bearded examples of the counterculture which threatened their own value system. 

The real point, though, is that Richard Nixon had a clear understanding of all of this. He knew he had to end the war and wanted 

to preserve as much as possible American credibili ty. His political 

genius was that he figured out how to co-opt most of the antiwar 

movement. He defused youth by ending the draft, and he appeased 

the American middle class-the pragmatic majority-by Vietnamization, by pulling out American troops, and by relying upon air 

power. Moreover, he succeeded not only in ending the war pretty 

much on his own terms but also almost succeeded as an overall 

foreign policy leader. He put together what I would call a working 

majority- not a great consensus, not the cold war consensus of the 

1950s and 1960s-but a working majority behind his foreign policies. 

As Ambassador Komer reminded us-and rightly reminded us- he 

destroyed the peace candidate, George McGovern in 1972 and won, 

what was to date the biggest electoral triumph in our history. 

Now if you accept this hypothesis, then it leads to a couple of 

conclusions: 

First, it may be a mistake to exaggerate the impact of Vietnam by 

and of itself on American foreign policy. Given Nixon's ability to put 

together a working majority, it may well have been Watergate--the 

fact that Nixon got caught, tried to cover up, and thereby destroyed 

himself-that produced the ultimate disillusionment and fragmentation of American foreign policy. Notjust Vietnam but Vietnam plus 

the aU-important variable of Watergate. Without Watergate, Nixon 

just conceivably might have succeeded. 

Second, if my hypothesis about the nature of the antiwar movement has any validity, it just may be that for many Americans-perhaps even a majority-the only real lesson of Vietnam was simply 

that we should not get involved in wars that we can't win. If that is 

so, then maybe the American people did not repudiate globalism, or 

interventionism, as much as some commentators thought in the 

1970s. And if this is so, the road from the Nixon era to Carter's 

militant Persian Gulf doctrine is a bit easier to understand. 

It is also worth recalling that, Vietnam or not, Nixon, Ford, and 

Kissinger- particularly the latter-did, as John Gaddis has pointed 

out, initiate some rather spectacular breakthroughs in foreign policy, 
COMMENTARY 227 

and provide a certain sense of purpose and coherence in American 

foreign policy. There was shuttle diplomacy, detente, SALT, the 

overtures to the Soviet Union, and the China card. 

But it is also worth remembering that these achievements, mostly 

by Henry Kissinger, began to fall apart even before Kissinger left 

office at the end of the Ford era. Critics on the right had already 

begun to argue that detente did not work, that linkage did not affect 

Soviet conduct, and that the Soviets simply used detente as a smoke 

screen behind which to conduct adventures in other parts of the 

world. And conservative Democrats, men like the late Senator Scoop 

Jackson, men who felt their own position threatened within the Democratic party by the rise of people like McGovern, and later by 

Carter, men like this were already beginning to get together, say with 

thejackson-Vanik amendment, with human rights advocates to limit 

the purposes of Kissinger's foreign policy and in particular to limit 

the key item of most-favored-nation treatment for the Soviet Union. 

At the same time liberals were beginning to see Kissinger as so 

infatuated with great power politics as being little more than a cynical manipulator of the balance of power, a kind of 20th century 

Metternich who cared little about the moral principle. Moreoverand Chile was the case in point-liberals argued that the Kissinger 

structure of peace was little more than an amoral attempt to achieve 

stability, and that to get stability he would go to bed with any 

right-wing dictator if that would advance the cause. And Kissinger 

of course also became vulnerable for his presumed involvement in the 

wiretaps of his own subordinates. 

Now these perceptions, I would argue, lead directly to some of the 

things that Jimmy Carter did. His human rights program was specifically designed to show the world, and important segments of the 

American public, that the United States did care about principles 

and not just about stability and balance of power, cared also about 

issues other than the maintenance of American credibility as a great 

power. In this sense the appointment of Andy Young to the United 

Nations was a lot more than just a symbolic gesture. 

Which is to say that Carter policies, such as human rights, flow 

not simply from the Vietnam syndrome but from the immediate 

practices and procedures of his predecessors. Similarly, on the way 

in which the new Vietnam scholarship may have dulled the lessons 

of Vietnam and contributed to the new militancy of the late Carter 

period, I am not sure that this scholarship really became influential 

until fairly recently. My hunch is that it accompanied and was 
228 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

symptomatic of the new militancy of the swing back to the center and 

toward suspicion of the Soviets that was so evident by the late seventies. In any event I wish that Professor Graebner had looked a bit 

more at some of the conservative criticism of Kissinger's detente that 

was beginning to emerge even before the Committee on the Present 

Danger mounted its campaign, even before Kissinger left office. In 

short, I think his paper would have been somewhat more persuasive 

if he had focused a bit more on what actually happened in the 

Nixon-Ford-Kissinger years and how all of that related to the impact 

of Vietnam and to the Vietnam syndrome. 
The Vietnam War and the 

Western Alliance1 

Robert O'Neill 

My theme is the relationship between the United States and her 

allies during the Vietnam War. I am not concerned to probe the 

conduct of the war itself nor its impact on the United States, save 

insofar as either of these factors were causes of significant allied 

reaction. Rather I wish to address two questions: why did the allies 

not feel a greater sense of common cause with the United States in 

the conflict, particularly in the escalatory phase of the mid-1960s; 

and what consequences did the war have for the Western alliance in 

general? 

That there was a major gulf in perceptions between the United 

States and her allies over the Vietnam conflict was clear from the 

early 1960s onwards. From the perspective of the mid-1980s it is 

important to observe that the alliance weathered the storm of Vietnam, j ust as it has those of the Soviet gas pipeline and the INF 

twin-track decision. Whether this outcome will hold for the coming 

debates over President Reagan's strategic defense initiative or emerging technologies for conventional warfare remains to be seen. Perhaps there are a few indicators from the experience of the Vietnam 

debate within the alliance which might enlighten our expectations 

and guide the actions of policymakers in these new issues. 

First may I make a note of clarification on who are meant by the 

term «allies." Primarily the term refers to America's NATO partners, particularly Britain, France, and Germany. Of all America's 

allies, they carried the greater weight in Washington, they had the 

major influence in alliance councils, and they tended to be more 

clearly identified with advice relating to U.S. conduct of the war than 

their other NATO partners, except Canada. Because Canadian-U.S. 

relations are so complex and sui generis) I shall make no attempt 

229 
230 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

to treat them in this brief overview. I shall not, however, omit discussion of Pacific allies of the United States, especially Australia and 

New Zealand, because their attitudes to the war were so different to 

those of the European allies. 

In 1964 principal allied attitudes towards the Vietnam conflict 

were governed by two legacies of history. The first and broader of 

them was the dissolution of the great European empires during and 

after the Second World War. Britain, France, Italy, and the Netherlands had, by the rnid-1950s, lost dominion over wide areas of the 

globe, either through war or voluntary surrender of control to indigenous forces. Independence was granted not least because it was too 

expensive to deny, but there was another motivation, dominant in 

Britain but more subdued in France and the Netherlands: the liberal 

beliefs that nations should govern themselves and, when they did 

not, they should be encouraged to claim the right to do so. Western 

experience in the cold war during the 1950s had compelled caution 

in how this philosophy was to be applied, but more so in the U.S. 

than amongst her allies. Although allied governments preferred antiCommunist successor states after the granting of independence, by 

the end of the 1950s they were also willing to accept nonaligned 

successors. 

By the early 1960s there was a strengthening presumption in 

Western public opinion that intervention in the affairs of developing 

states required more justification than in the early postwar period. A 

corollary of this view was that those who were disposed to intervene--at least militarily-were, in some degree at least, morally and 

politically suspect. These inclinations were reinforced in some of the 

former European imperial powers by the pain ofloss of dominion and 

the concern that the United States had become too widely committed 

around the world for the good of itself and its allies. 

The second legacy of history for the European allies was the 

French experience in Indochina. They placed greater emphasis than 

did the U.S. on the continuity between the struggle which had been 

brought to an armistice by the 1954 Geneva Conference and that of 

the 1960s. Britain and the Soviet Union had been the cochairmen of 

the Geneva meeting and in the rnid-1960s still retained those offices. 

The approach of the Wilson government, in power through the crucial period 1964-1969, was conditioned significantly by the possibil· 

ities for influence which the cochairmanship offered. Wilson and his 

ministers refused to adopt the stance advocated by the left wing of 

their party, namely to urge the United States to stop bombing the 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE WESTERN ALLIANCE 231 

North and negotiate directly with the Viet Cong, but they used 

Britain's cochairmanship of the Geneva Conference as one of several 

reasons for resisting the pressures for more positive commitment to 

the conflict. To some extent this motivation was tactical in that it 

kept Britain out of direct involvement while retaining a position of 

apparent if insubstantial influence in Washington. It was, however, 

more than tactics that kept Wilson to this path because many members of Parliament on both sides believed that in this way Britain 

could best use its accumulated diplomatic skills and political wisdom 

in the interests of a stronger Western position in the world and a 

more stable international order. 

Another historical legacy with which the Wilson government had 

to contend was overextension of Britain's defense forces, and it was 

resolved to withdraw from Southeast Asia in the late 1960s. Hence 

Wilson was particularly resistive towards American attempts to persuade him to adopt a strongly supportive attitude towards the U.S. 

commitment to Vietnam, fearing that any major step in this direction 

might jeopardize his whole defense reorientation towards Europe. 

In France, of course, memories of the 1945-1954 conflict were 

painful. There was not the least desire on the part of General de 

Gaulle to be a party to what he, and most other French leaders, 

regarded as American folly, committed on the basis of a mistaken 

belief that Americans were better at counterinsurgency than the 

French. In Italy, the Federal Republic of Germany, and several other 

Western European states, particularly in the north, memories of the 

French experience in Indochina during the early 1950s dampened 

conservative tendencies to support U.S. intervention and appeared 

to justify moderate and left-wing opposition to such policy. 

Amongst America's Pacific allies these two legacies were of much 

less importance. Although sensitive to the point that nations should 

not be subject to external interference, the post-1945 experience of 

South Korea, the Philippines, and Thailand led them to see communism as a more potent threat to independence than U.S. intervention. Each of these three had benefited from U.S. support against 

Communist insurgency or invasion experience, and this experience 

inclined them to favor greater U.S. intervention in Vietnam. In 

Japan, while public opinion reflected gratitude for having been led to 

democracy by the United States, it did not automatically approve of 

every American intervention. Furthermore, despite good relations at 

a government-to-government level, the Japanese public debate had 

evinced increasingly critical attitudes towards U.S. policies in the 
232 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

late 1950s and early 1960s, and there was a strong predisposition on 

the left to require of others what had already been required of japan, 

namely to abjure use of military force as an instrument of policy. 

In Australia and New Zealand governmental and public attitudes lay between these bounds. There was a strong disposition, 

particularly within the Labour parties of both nations, to oppose 

intervention outright on moral and political grounds, unless it was 

done in the name of the United Nations. In the more conservative 

parties which formed their governments for most of the post-1945 

period, the stronger historical force acting on them was U.S. unwillingness to accept any clearly defined responsibility for the security of 

Southeast Asia. This unwillingness had frustrated Australian and 

New Zealand attempts to plan for regional security. They could 

make little progress in developing their own contributions if they did 

not know how much, if any, U.S. assistance they could rely on. 

Confrontation by Indonesia made them all the more conscious of a 

need to strengthen regional security. Hence U.S. intervention in 

Vietnam was to be welcomed and encouraged, if necessary, by the 

provision of their own military forces. By 1965 tactical differences 

there were in plenty but strategic differences were few amongst the 

three ANZUS partners. 

In the light of these historical influences it was not surprising that 

the European allies in particular had somewhat unsympathetic views 

on U.S. involvement in Vietnam. In grand strategic terms it seemed 

to be out of tune with the times. For the allies, particularly in Europe 

but also to a lesser extent in the Pacific, the cold war seemed by 1964 

to be waning. The Soviet doctrine of "peaceful coexistence" was not 

to be taken at face value, but Nikita Khrushchev bad proven more 

reasonable to deal with than had Stalin. The Cuban missile crisis, for 

all the tensions it had caused, had been resolved to Western satisfaction. Key European issues also seemed susceptible to resolution by 

more flexible diplomacy, backed of course by a strong military deterrent. Leonid Brezhnev seemed in some ways an improvement on 

Khrushchev in that he was not subject to the latter's impulsiveness 

and appeared more aware of Soviet limitations. While on the one 

hand armed confrontation continued between East and West, on the 

other negotiations became more promising and trade improved. The 

status of West Berlin appeared settled. Relations between the Federal Republic and the Soviet Union improved to the point at which 

some long-term optimism seemed to be justified. And contacts were 

developing, albeit from a low base level, between the states of Eastern 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE WESTERN ALLIANCE 233 

and Western Europe. There was hope in many quarters in Western 

Europe by the mid-1960s that a more normal relationship with the 

East was at last a practical possibility. Of course it was not an 

imminent one and would take many years of care if it were to be 

achieved. But hopes were rising that the Soviets might see increased 

cooperativeness as being in their interests, and there was growing 

disinclination to jeopardize the trend in its early stages. The mid1960s did not seem to be the best time for supporting a major American bombing and naval offensive against a Soviet client in faraway 

Southeast Asia. 

This is not to say that turbulence in Southeast Asia was disregarded in Western Europe as a source of significant disorder. The 

French-Indochina War, the Malayan emergency, and Indonesian 

confrontation of Malaysia had all aroused European concern about 

the wider implications of regional instability there. But European 

anxieties did not mirror those portrayed in the American domino 

theory, which tended to see all threats to the existing order in Southeast Asia as of common origin if not of identical form. Europeans had 

learned from their own experience that the principal threats to security in Southeast Asia were more local than region-wide, and tended 

to believe that individual solutions had to be devised for individual 

national problems. Fighting the VietCong and North Vietnamese in 

South Vietnam would not, of itself, solve the problems of the region 

and its constituent states. Indeed, some argued, it could prove a 

diversion from other more constructive ways of promoting regional 

security and give stronger justification for extension of Soviet and 

Chinese influence which could be used to the allies' disadvantage. 

The Republic of Vietnam, from the time of its inception, had not 

been perceived as other than perilously weak. Its unification with the 

North as a result of some kind of elections or military conflict appeared to many Europeans to be inevitable. There were few 

Europeans indeed who regarded the integration of South Vietnam 

into a wider communist state as a serious threat to any important 

allied security interest sufficient to justify the size of commitment 

Ukely to be required to prevent it. 

When the allies looked more closely at what they were being 

asked to support, they became even more skeptical. The regime of 

Ngo Dinh Diem had been regarded as no model democracy, and the 

series of military strong men who came to the fore in Saigon after his 

assassination seemed even less capable than Diem of bringing South 

Vietnam's affairs into order. The notion that a strong, stable 
234 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

democratic government could be produced in South Vietnam invited 

dissent, if not outright dismissal. Those allies with experience of 

counterinsurgency operations had the strongest ground for their 

skepticism. France and the Netherlands had been glad to cut their 

losses in Southeast Asia, having had no success in their more modest 

tasks. Britain had enjoyed in Malaya a much more favorable environment than the U.S. in Vietnam. Even so, the emergency had to 

be fought for thirteen years before something close to a democratic 

system could be said to have been firmly established in Malaya. 

Furthermore, the United States in justifying her intervention so 

much in terms offostering democracy in Vietnam seemed in the light 

of European experience to be doubly unwise. Not only was the aim 

itself probably not likely to be fulfilled, but also the very fact that 

democratization was one of the early aims of the commitment complicated the task of defeating the insurgents quickly and increased 

the risks that the essential public support for a protracted commitment would be eroded as popular frustration with lack of political 

progress in Vietnam mounted. The Korean War had already demonstrated that an expensive conflict became increasingly unpopular in 

the space of a few years when military stalemate was accompanied by 

lack of political reform. Yet in Vietnam the U.S. was attempting a 

much more ambitious aim than in Korea or than the British had 

undertaken in Malaya. 

The nature of the American military conduct of the Vietnam War 

also caused doubts to rise amongst the allies, particularly Britain and 

France. The early attempt by the Kennedy administration to come 

to grips with counterinsurgency as a special form of conflict was seen 

by allies as an interesting experiment, but later experience, particularly during the expansionary phase of 1964-1965, reinforced allied 

doubts. Allied advisers expressed concern that the Americans were 

too intent on the military aims of the conflict to see that they were 

undermining their political objectives. Search-and-destroy operations were sometimes very effective in terms of weakening the enemy 

militarily, but they usually left in their wake an alienated Vietnamese 

population and not infrequently a homeless one. The absence of a 

significant U.S. pacification effort in the period 1964-1966 was a 

further cause of skepticism on the part of those allied advisers who 

knew about counterinsurgency. Most importantly, the militarypolitical critics of American methods simply doubted that the U.S. 

could stay the course for the long period required. 

Quite apart from their concerns about American operational 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE WESTERN ALLIANCE 235 

methods, the allies were more deeply worried about the impact of the 

new undertaking on American capacities to maintain existing commitments and continue to develop defense strength in Europe. Although there were prospects of achieving a better relationship with 

the Soviet Union, the allies believed that the military balance had to 

be improved. A major American commitment in Vietnam for several 

years or more could not but result in reductions ofU.S. force levels 

in Europe and elsewhere, deterioration in the quality of individual 

U.S. soldiers stationed in Europe, diminished reinforcement capability, and lower stocks of ammunition, spare parts, and other vital 

supplies. Furthermore it would prejudice the long-term development 

of U.S. military power. Given the European view of the relative 

unimportance of Vietnam in terms of the global balance, it is not 

surprising that allied governments preferred that the American commitment to the conflict should remain at a modest level, if it could not 

be dispensed with altogether. At all events the allies believed that 

they had more than enough to do to make some compensation for the 

diversion of American strength. To go further, as Britain had done 

in Korea, by contributing significant forces to Vietnam appeared to 

be unwise militarily. To contribute even token forces, as other 

NATO allies had done in Korea, seemed unwise politically. 

An American-supported conflict confined to South Vietnam was 

one thing for the allies to contemplate; an expanded war throughout 

Indochina, with possible extension to include direct Chinese participation, was an altogether different prospect. Yet it was argued by 

some allied governments and their advisers that, given the role 

claimed of the North Vietnamese by thejohnson administration and 

the ineffectiveness of resistance by the South, escalation could not be 

avoided if the commitment was not to prove fruitless. These forebodings seemed to be confirmed by the bombing of the Ho Chi Minh 

Trail in Laos in 1964 and, most importantly, by the initiating of 

Operation ROLLING THUNDER against the southern sector of 

North Vietnam in early 1965. Cambodia also assumed greater significance during 1965 both for the location of supply routes running 

south from Laos and east from the port of Sihanoukville and as a 

sanctuary for enemy headquarters and operational units. While 

Cambodia was spared bombing for another five years, the need to 

attack North Vietnamese and VietCong positions in both Cambodia 

and Laos by American infiltration groups further disturbed allied 

leaders about long-term prospects for keeping the conflict limited. 

A more serious form of escalation was feared by allies after the 
236 SECOND I NDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

mltlation of Operation ROLLING THUNDER, namely a direct 

clash between Soviet air defense units in North Vietnam and U.S. 

aircraft. Another concern was that increasing military pressure on 

North Vietnam might lead China and the Soviet Union to sink their 

differences and recommence effective strategic cooperation. While 

these fears had little substance (indeed the Sino-Soviet split worsened as the Chinese denounced the Soviets for attempting to initiate 

armistice negotiations), they figured prominently in allied public 

discussion on U.S. policy in Vietnam during the period of expansion 

of the U.S. war effort. 

One of the most prominent demonstrations of opposition by 

British public opinion to U.S. policies in Vietnam during this period 

of escalation was provided by the Oxford Union teach-in of 16 June 

1965. Foreign Secretary Michael Stewart and Ambassador Henry 

Cabot Lodge encountered strong criticism when they attempted to 

defend President Johnson's policies. The arguments used by the 

critics, already in the majority, were not notably different from those 

already developed by the antiwar movement in the United States, as 

is only to be expected where opponents of government policy can 

easily make contact with each other across international boundaries. 

The origins of the war, the policies of the Diem government, the 

degree ofNorth Vietnamese involvement in the war and the effectiveness of U.S. and South Vietnamese operations were all major points 

of disputation. According to the Times report on the day's discussions, Cabot Lodge "misjudged the nature ofhis ,audience completely 

with talk of lavish American aid and references to Sir Winston 

Churchill." It was, after all, an early event in the era of teach-ins (a 

term which the Times correspondent described as "an ugly new jargon name ... a concept recently invented at Harvard, which has 

crossed the Atlantic)." Lodge, blazing a trail where many speakers 

of his belief were to follow with increasing counterproductiveness in 

the next few years, responded to the "contemptuous laughter or ugly 

hisses" which greeted his arguments with unconcealed surprise and 

impatience. "Why do you laugh?" he kept on asking. "Why don't you 

listen to me? Give me a chance; I flew from Boston today specially 

to talk to you." Nettled, he complained to the chairman, Christopher 

Hill, the newly appointed master ofBalliol: "Will you keep order Mr. 

Chairman?-that's your job." Michael Stewart fared little better in 

spite of presenting a solid, moderate case which showed that the Viet 

Cong and North Vietnamese were not exactly eager to negotiate an 

end to hostilities. 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE WESTERN ALLIANCE 237 

Listening to proceedings by radio in a cottage ten miles away I 

was glad that I had not taken the day off from the urgent task of 

completing my thesis. Admittedly I was listening with one ear only 

as I typed a revised draft, but because I had begun to divine my 

posting order to Vietnam, the Union debate was worth that one ear 

to me. But the message which came through was disturbing and 

depressing. The war in which I was about to be involved promised 

not only to be protracted, but clearly it was going to be very divisive 

amongst one's friends and fellow countrymen. I found my apprehensions reinforced soon after arriving in Vietnam in May 1966 when I 

climbed Nui Ganh Rai, the hill overlooking Vung Tau, and inspected the remains of the massive French fortifications at the summit. I wrote to my wife a few days later: "Given over to the tenancy 

of rats and snakes, their whitewashed interior walls covered with the 

graffiti ofVietnamese lovers and their exteriors disappearing beneath 

an envelopment of softly coiling creepers, they seemed to hang a 

large, provocative question mark before our eyes .... They asked 

'What do you newcomers think you can achieve?"' 

European reluctance to participate was governed also by more 

immediate factors, such as the limitations on the size and cost of their 

defense forces, the greater priority accorded to deterring the Soviet 

Union in Europe, and the desire to reduce the span of their commitments outside Europe. But, and perhaps more importantly, in terms 

of broad strategic purpose, the undertaking looked too difficult, the 

means adopted looked to be inadequate, the dangers of escalation 

were formidable, and the time was wrong in terms of maintaining 

favorable movement in East-West relations. 

In view of these factors, the question arises as to why the allies did 

not offer stronger opposition to the United States involvement in 

Vietnam. This question does not lend itself to a short answer. Fundamentally the commitment was seen as an American one and hence 

was primarily a matter on which America had to make up its own 

mind. A degree of justification for the American involvement was 

accepted by the allies, partly because there was seen to be not only 

a local Communist hand at work in South Vietnam but also Soviet 

and Chinese muscle behind it. The age of containment so typified by 

the Korean War was not so far away that its guidelines appeared to 

the allies to be totally inapplicable. American assistance to Vietnam 

had begun in 1950, at the most intensive phase of containment, and 

had grown slowly in the following decade. The commitment had 

acquired a degree of legitimacy and a trend had been set, again 
238 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

making it difficult for the allies suddenly in 1964-1965 to tell the 

United States to withdraw. There were other, and to the Europeans 

more important, problems troubling the alliance as a whole. Stresses 

and strains had been created in the early 1960s by issues such as the 

Multilateral Force, France's dissatisfaction with reliance on U.S. 

nuclear guarantees, the future of the British deterrent, and the levels 

of European conventional forces available to the alliance. Although 

the conflict in Vietnam was the most serious clash of arms of the 

mid-l960s, allied attention was focused also on the Middle East, the 

Indo-Pakistani rivalry, and troubled areas of Africa, particularly 

after Ian Smith's unilateral declaration of independence from 

Britain. There were enough problems to cope with without provoking a major split with the United States on Vietnam. 

It is therefore not surprising that of Western European leaders 

only General de Gaulle publicly addressed unsympathetic, critical 

words to President Johnson when the conflict was at the escalatory 

stage. It is impossible to tell at the present time how far allied 

governments made their reservations or objections known privately 

to the U.S. government, but contemporary press accounts indicate 

that there were, on many occasions, private transatlantic disputes 

about the conduct of the war. These notwithstanding, the degree of 

common interest represented by the alliance prevented these private 

arguments from becoming strident public confrontations. 

Let me pass to the second of the two questions posed at the outset: 

what were the consequences of the war for the Western alliance? 

Perhaps the most serious was the erosion of allied confidence in the 

judgment of the United States as alliance leader. From the early 

1960s onwards the course of U.S. policy in the conflict revealed a 

basic divergence of interests between America and her NATO partners. There remained agreement that the Soviet Union was the principal threat to Western security and could manifest its malign intentions in a variety ofways, many of which could cause acute concern. 

There was profound disagreement as to whether the war in Vietnam 

justified such concern. European governments and commentators 

tended to see tbe Soviet connection to Vietnam as of a limited, even 

marginal nature--an opportunistic union fostered on the Vietnamese side initially by anticolonialism and maintained in the 1960s 

by thwarted Vietnamese nationalism. 

While the frequently used analogy between Ho Chi Minh and 

Tito was overdrawn, the Johnson and Nixon administrations had 

to cope constantly with allied critics who believed that a more 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE WESTERN ALLIANCE 239 

independent Vietnam would emerge once hostilities were ended. The 

allies had to deal with administrations which in the 1960s tended to 

cling to the domino theory type of approach, emphasizing that the 

alternative to preventing a Communist victory in South Vietnam was 

a dramatic increase in the level of Communist threat to Southeast 

Asia as a whole. At least fear of extension of Chinese control over 

Southeast Asia, which the J ohnson administration had emphasized 

in the earlier stages of the conflict, waned in the late 1960s and early 

1970s and appeared to have been dispelled by the time of Henry 

Kissinger's visit to Peking in 1971. Although American concern 

about Soviet intentions had not been assuaged, Kissinger and Nixon 

showed in dealing with the Soviet Union a greater degree of confidence that she could be constrained by means other than military 

force. The SALT I negotiations and agreement, the expansion of 

economic links between East and West, and the general notion of 

restraining the Soviet Union by giving it a stake in the existing world 

order all contributed to the regeneration of a degree of European 

confidence in the United States as leader, and seemed to argue more 

strongly for abandonment of the Vietnam commitment. 

Major differences persisted. Apparent U.S. inflexibility regarding 

the peace negotiations, slowness to reduce the level of commitment 

in the 1970s, and readiness to reescalate as shown by the Hanoi 

Christmas bombing of 1972 fed an allied public debate which had 

long been anti-American in its thrust. True, Nixon and Kissinger 

had produced a significant reconciliation of interests within the alliance, but Vietnam, and later the memory of the conflict, remained 

as a reminder to the Europeans that the United States saw the world 

differently and was capable of serious misjudgments which damaged 

both American and allied interests. 

Of course the situation might have been worse, leading to much 

more serious tensions in the mid and late 1970s. That it was not was 

due to several factors, probably the most important being commonality jn the working of the democratic process. Europeans, unhappy 

with the direction of administration policies, were able to draw some 

reassurance from the growing weight of public and congressional 

disapproval of continued involvement in the war. Whlle nobody 

expected grass roots opposition to be able to turn administration 

policies around in a short time, it was clear that, from 1968 onwards, 

the strength of domestic dissent would compel reduction of the commitment, save in the extremely improbable event of a major reduction in Communist Vietnamese aims. The real question for the allies 
240 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

was how quickly would the president recognize this situation and cut 

his losses before they grew too great. 

Those factors which led the allies in the mid-1960s to be moderate 

in their public criticisms of escalation remained operative in the 

1970s. For as long as there was hope that the Americans would 

gradually ~xtricate themselves, there were strong incentives to limit 

dissonance within the alliance. There was, after all, substantial 

agreement on fundamental security issues, and the allies did not wish 

to appear in greater disarray than was absolutely unavoidable. The 

Vietnam conflict was discussed frequently in alliance meetings and 

in bilateral consultations. These processes did not always spare the 

a11ies from shocks when major initiatives were undertaken by the 

United States, but they helped to ease allied frustration and provide 

opportunities for direct expression of criticisms and unease. Finally 

there was some allied sympathy for the American argument that in 

Vietnam the credibility of a protector was at stake. Would that that 

particular protection responsibility had not been accepted, allied 

critics argued, but given that it had, the U.S. could not be expected 

to go back on its word to the South Vietnamese in an instant. If it 

had, moreover, the implications for other guaranteed powers would 

have been most disturbing. 

A related allied concern was the impact of the war on U.S. 

domestic attitudes generally. It was seen by many European commentators as early as the mid-1960s that an American defeat in 

Vietnam could well decrease American public support for extended 

commitments in other parts of the world. While the U.S. commitment to Europe was not as severely threatened by this kind of reaction as, for example, that to the Republic of Korea or the less formal 

support given to various African and Middle Eastern states, the 

direction of the trend caused concern. Insofar as this trend was seen 

to reemerge in the Carter years, when Chanceller Helmut Schmidt 

became anxious about possible decoupling of the United States from 

the defense ofWestern Europe, that particular legacy of the Vietnam 

War, or perhaps "perceived legacy" to be more accurate, was to have 

major consequences. It is an oversimplification to claim that 

European desires for the deployment of U.S. INF systems in Europe 

originated in the Vietnam War. Nonetheless that conflict played a 

part in electing Jimmy Carter, in shaping his policies on foreign 

commitments, and in shifting the center of gravity of the Congress in 

such a way that the essential closeness of coupling appeared to be 

threatened. 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE WESTERN ALLIANCE 241 

Alliance cohesion was strained further by the growth of the popular anti-Americanism which the war fostered. The war did not, of 

course, initiate anti-Americanism in Europe, but it swung into opposition large groups of young people who, in other times, would have 

been either inclined to approve of or at least be indifferent towards 

the United States and its policies. There were many other factors at 

work in producing the public disorders, student riots, and general 

upsurge of radicalism in the intellectual life of the Western democracies of the late 1960s and early 1970s. The war itself was the focal 

point of protest, however, and the United States was indicted on its 

record in Vietnam as imperialist, militarist, brutal, and simply inept. 

The charges made were, in most instances, well wide of the mark, but 

episodes such as the My Lai massacre, the one-man presidential 

election campaign of General Thieu, the revelation of the "Tiger 

Cages" of Con Son Island, the summary execution of prisoners in 

front of television cameras, the napalming of refugees, and many 

others proved a severe embarrassment, both to the Johnson and 

Nixon administrations and to allied leaders doing their best before a 

critical public opinion to maintain cohesion with their partners. 

Furthermore, the media coverage of the war tended to show the 

American military to the allies as trigger-happy and obsessed with 

body-count statistics. There were other stories to be obtained of 

course-particularly those relating to the excitement that went with 

major operations. The most imporant element of the war in terms of 

winning and maintaining public support, namely the guiding 

politico-military strategy, the battle of wits between the opposing 

high commands, failed almost totally to come across, however. Of 

course briefing officers had their problems in dealing with assertive, 

incredulous, crusading pressmen, but not all correspondents wanted 

to portray simply the negative side of the war. The positive side 

tended to be communicated to them too much in terms of statistics 

and too little in terms of the ideas behind operations and the strategic 

objectives of counterinsurgency warfare. The overall result was a 

steady reinforcement of critical opinion inside and outside of the 

United States, with the difference that inside the U.S. it was directed 

at the administration or the "Establishment" whereas abroad it 

tended to be directed at the U.S. generally. Fortunately the situation 

has improved in the past decade, but anti-Americanism fostered in 

the Vietnam War remains a significant element on the left of major 

European labor and social democratic parties. The Vietnam image 

is still summoned up to castigate other more recent American interventions. 
242 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

ll is, in the allied view, salutary for United States leaders to feel 

the caution which the experience of failure in Vietnam naturally 

inspires. Military intervention is an increasingly serious undertaking 

in a world which is better informed and more critically disposed 

towards great powers and where developing nations or insurgent 

groups are increasingly well armed. Yet it is possible for there to be 

too much caution, too much preoccupation with the possible consequences of failure, too little attention to the need to come to the aid 

of friends in trouble, and too little sympathy from allies for the good 

of stability in the East-West relationship. The allies and the U.S. 

together have to do much more thinking about how to apply the 

lessons of one conflict to another. 

What I have had to say in regard to the consequences of the 

Vietnam War for the Atlantic alliance applies to a large extent to 

America's Pacific allies also. Australian and New Zealand governmental enthusiasm for the American commitment to Vietnam waned 

somewhat in the late 1960s, particularly after the Tet offensive. Each 

government, however, believed that there was a serious threat to 

regional security as a result of possible Soviet or Chinese gains in 

Vietnam and, until Labour party governments came to power in 

both Australia and New Zealand in 1972, there were significant 

differences in perception between them and America's European 

allies. These Australasian concerns were based substantially on experience of the Malayan emergency, the shock of Indonesian confrontation, particularly in 1964-1965, when the Soviets appeared to 

have gained a foothold through supply of military equipment to 

Sukarno and links were consolidating between the Chinese and 

Indonesian Communist parties, and the fear that the United States 

might leave them in the lurch. The collapse of Sukarno and the 

development of the ASEAN group of states led Australia and New 

Zealand to be less nervous about the absence of a direct U.S. military 

ground commitment in Southeast Asia, provided that there remained 

a strong offshore U.S. presence. Regional dynamics have continued 

to play a major role in motivating public opinion in both nations to 

support the ANZUS aJJiance, the current bout of nuclear allergy in 

New Zealand notwithstanding. 

Opinion in Japan tended more to take the same course as in 

Europe, although at the governmental level dissent was more muted 

in discussions with the United States. The Vietnam conflict had 

some economic benefits for Japan in that significant quantities 

of Japanese goods and materials were used for construction and 
THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE WESTERN ALLIANCE 243 

development projects in South Vietnam. Anti-Americanism, fed by 

several causes, was expressed vehemently by left-wing groups which, 

as in Europe, used the Vietnam War as a principal vehicle for 

protest. Also as in Europe, the japanese government was hoping in 

the 1960s for a normalized relationship with the Soviet Union and, 

of course, it had a strong interest in removing obstacles in the way of 

a positive relationship with its near neighbor and huge potential 

market, China. The thrust of Kissinger's policy in the early 1970s 

thus did much to relieve Japanese official concerns, although lack of 

consultation on China, currency adjustments, and other issues 

strained the Tokyo-Washington relationship, particularly in 1971. 

But, like the nations of Western Europe, Japan sought to develop a 

close working relationship with the United States, assigning a subordinate priority to differences of view regarding Vietnam for the sake 

of wider interests. 

In conclusion, it is fair to say that the Vietnam War gave the 

cohesion of the Western alliance the most prolonged and serious test 

of its life, worse even than the sharp shock of Suez. Now that the test 

is a decade and further behind us, it may be concluded that the 

greater part of the damage caused was transient. The alliance has 

survived that stress and has weathered several more. It is obviously 

much more robust politically than its rivaL One has only to contrast 

the freedom of America's allies to show their dissent with the inability of Soviet partners even to permit individual citizens to criticize 

Soviet policies in Afghanistan to see where real strength lies. The 

thought of Poland being permitted to act as a refuge for Soviet draft 

dodgers in the same way that Canada acted for Americans avoiding 

military service is ludicrous. The Vietnam War gave the Western 

alliance a maturing experience which the conformist Warsaw Pact 

could scarcely begin to comprehend. 

Some consequences remain as problems for the West: greater 

awareness that the strategic interests of alliance partners do not 

always coincide; loss of allied public confidence in the judgment of 

American leaders; a sense of greater Western public unwillingness to 

support military intervention; more questioning public and political 

attitudes towards the proficiency of armed forces in general and those 

ofUnited States forces in particular; a more assertive Congress and 

one which is likely to be more critical of allies; and wide allied 

concern about the worth of American guarantees, especially in a 

protracted conflict. Obviously these factors have their negative aspects, and they must be controlled or countered. We all learned a 
244 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

great deal about the strengths and weaknesses of the alliance during 

the Vietnam War, and some of the right lessons have been drawn. 

Much more remains to be done on both sides of the Atlantic as recent 

episodes have shown. We all know the shibboleths of consultation 

before action, restraint in action and privacy in intraalliance debate. 

But they are more than shibboleths, and we have to do much more 

to iron out differences in perception of the Soviets and in approaches 

to burden sharing and regional crises. The allies will need a much 

more intimate knowledge and understanding ofU.S. domestic politics, particularly in the next four years. We all must do more to 

provide economic recovery. 

NOTE 

I. This paper was delivered, without commentary, as the banquet address. 
SECTION IV 

Discussion Issues 

Editor~s Note: In the following pages, discussions following the presentations 

are grquped under major issues discussed. After each paragraph of transcribed 

discussion, the contributor's last name appears in brackets. Refer to the lists of 

symposium participants and attendees for foil names and affiliations. 

The Impact of China and Korea 

on the American Commitment to Southeast Asia 

What intrigued me in looking at the 1950s, as one who was 

brought up on Dulles as the main expositor of the Sino-Soviet monolith, is his sensitivity to the Sino-Soviet split at the time. There are 

frequent references on the part of Dulles to the fact that the Chinese 

and Soviets are at odds with each other over any number of issues 

including Vietnam and a lot of this emerges out of the Geneva 

records. It is interesting to note the different approaches. Dulles' idea 

was to keep the pressure on the Chinese, in particular, as much as he 

possibly could with the idea that this would increase and aggravate 

the tensions within the Sino-Soviet alliance and perhaps leave the 

United States room to exploit. [Herring] 

We never understood at all the historic animosity between China 

and Vietnam. Nor even that between China and all of Southeast 

Asia, including Indonesia, which persists even until today. I cannot 

recall any time that we ever took that into account in policymaking. 

Also we underplay very much the role of the Korean War and the 

North Korean attack in 1950 on decisions about Vietnam. The 1950 

attack was the reason why American attention shifted to Asia. At the 

same time as we attempted to do something about Korea we also 

started our aid program in Indochina. We generally regarded, as I 

recall, Asia as the more vulnerable Communist flank. It was also 

more volatile. Those reasons had a lot to do with not only our later 

policy but also with the military advice and aid we gave to South 

Vietnam during the period 1955- 1956 and even after. The model 

which our military advisers had in mind was the North Korean 

attack across the 38th Parallel against the South. So we tried to build 

up the South Vietnamese Army to be able to cope with a North 

Vietnamese attack across the 17th Parallel against the South. We 

247 
248 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

were only ten years off. That's the way the war ended. Unfortunately, 

that's not the way it began. (Komer] 

There is one particular episode that I think is worth mentioning- that is, the diplomacy of the China warning statement which 

was signed in Washington the day after the Korean War armistice. 

This was a diplomacy which we pursued for nearly two years and 

which involved all the allies on the U.N. side in Korea. It started off 

initiaJJy as simply a warning to China that retaliatory actions would 

be taken if there was any resumption of hostilities in Korea, but 

during those two years as the French position in Indochina continued to weaken, the emphasis of the whole policy shifted from Korea 

to Indochina. Now obviously this policy was not wholly convincing 

to the allies, as we saw when the discussion of some involvement at 

the time ofDien Bien Phu came up. I think it did create a momentum 

of its own and did help to undermine a certain unwillingness on the 

part of the Korean War allies to contemplate either recommitment of 

their forces to Korea or some degree of expanded U.S. commitment 

to Vietnam. This warning statement still continues nominally in 

effect. Every now and then the Koreans raise it in the context of 

northeast Asia and I think if we looked in the archives of foreign 

ministries around the world in 1954 and 1955 and through into the 

early sixties, as I have done in the Australian case, this particular 

policy comes up to the fore time after time. [O'Neill] 

When we talk about the Geneva Conference it is important to 

remember that the Geneva Conference was about Korea, and that 

Korea, Vietnam, and Germany were divided countries. So when we 

talk about a settlement at Geneva we are talking about a deal between the great powers about the conditions under which divided 

countries can unify. And so Germany is as much a part of the agenda 

at Geneva as are Korea and Vietnam. I would also suggest that one 

of the reasons that the Russians in particular were willing to go along 

with the division in Indochina was that they were terribly unwilling 

or uninterested in setting up any formulas whereby countries that 

had been divided after the Second World War could be reunited; that 

they would much rather give up in any form half of Korea or half of 

Indochina, or all oflndochina, rather than risk any kind of reunification of Germany in Europe. [Popkin] 

After President johnson left the White House he wrote an essay 

for the Encyclopedia Brittanica in which he emphatically stated that he 
DISCUSSION ISSUES 249 

felt himself constrained by the Chinese syndrome. He was very, very 

dear about that. [Parmet] 

In 1951 I was attending the Army War College and one of the 

studies that the class addressed was the United States policy in 

Southeast Asia. We knew at the time that the French were in trouble. 

We knew that the Viet Minh had been recognized by China, and that 

put an entirely different picture on North Vietnam. From then on it 

meant that the North Vietnamese could reinforce the insurgency 

directly through the mountainous part of North Vietnam. Whoever 

in the west tried to oppose an advance into the south, whether by 

guerrillas or North Vietnamese or Chinese, would be faced with this 

situation, because any time the enemy liked they could escalate since 

they had this direct overland route from China. Almost every insurgency we have been involved in, this question of sanctuaries becomes 

absolutely key. We solved the Greek Civil War because we got 

Yugoslavia to stop the flow of supplies across the border. [At the 

college] I was on one of the committees that looked at U.S. policy in 

Southeast Asia and the consensus of the class-about one third of 

them had just come back from Korea, commanding regiments in 

combat, for example-said that the U.S. should not get involved 

other than materiel support. It was the wrong place for us to try to 

fight, any way you look at it, politically, psychologically, we would 

be stigmatized, as the French were, painted as colonial. Operationally you could not find a tougher part of the world, logistically a 

superhuman task. We said do not do it. It was ironic the way things 

turned out in terms of what kind of a Vietnamese army and armed 

forces we wanted against what threat. Back in the fifties the decision 

to shape the Vietnamese army in our own image was not the decision 

of American advisers. It was the decision of the president of the 

United States and of the National Security Council. Go back and 

read the National Intelligence Estimates beginning in 1950 when we 

formed the Board of National Estimates. The board was obsessed 

with the idea that the Chinese would intervene as they did in Korea 

and that this was the major threat. And so instructions to the Joint 

Chiefs and secretary of defense were to form an army that could stop 

the Chinese army. And you can argue that that was kind of dumb but 

if you're the joint Chiefs what are you going to do? They did exactly 

what they were ordered to do. They didn't do too badly-they did a 

pretty good job. But a lot of water passed over the dam during the 

next two decades. It finally dawned on us that it was not the Chinese 
250 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

threat, it was the Viet Minh and the Viet Gong and the insurgency 

threat. [B. Palmer] 

2 

The Role of the Military in the 

Evolution of the Commitment to Southeast Asia 

I quite agree on the need for lower-level studies to indicate how 

options were shaped and what options were presented. The problem 

in doing this, of course, even for as early as 1954, is enormous and in 

most cases cannot be overcome. We get glimmers and hints from the 

Foreign Relations volumes of what is percolating down below, but it is 

impossible for anybody without special access to go much beyond 

this. Of necessity, at this point, even for thirty years ago, we have to 

concentrate on the top level and kind of guess what is happening 

below. (Herring] 

Where were the J oint Chiefs during the January-July 1965 period in terms of alternative strategies? We have heard retrospectively 

from Schandler and others essentially the notion that the joint Chiefs 

said that the only way you can win this war is to cut the Ho Chi Minh 

Trail, mine Haiphong, bomb a little more, and mobilize reserves. 1 

Now I would like to know when that was put forth during this period. 

I wonder if anyone knows, because the alternatives stated in 

Cochran's paper were to continue doing what we were doing, withdrawing, or putting ground troops into the South. I think the paper 

was correct in saying that no one was asking where do we want to be 

five years from now. No strategy was involved, but troops were 

involved. We've heard since that General Westmoreland left that 

question of brokering the strategy to General Wheeler. His idea was 

to get the troops first and the strategy will follow. That whole notion 

of strategies being proposed by thejoint Chiefs and either rejected or 

ignored by the president is at the heart of a lot of the discussion that 

historically took place about that period. I'm getting at the alleged 

alternatives, and one alternative which is attributed retrospectively 

to the "military" was the option of going into Laos, going into Cambodia, mining Haiphong. A lot of these things did involve presidential decisions which according to Schandler and others he persistently rejected, or rejected sufficiently so that he never heard them 

again. [Braestrup] 

I. Herbert Y. Schandler, The Unmaking of a President: Lyndon johnson and Vietnam 

(Princeton, N.j.: Princeton University Press. 1977). 
DISCUSSION ISSUES 251 

Isn't the decision where to put troops, no matter who makes it, 

a geographical imperative? Isn't that the decision that really imposes 

the strategy on the war, and whether you talk about quantitative 

strategy or strategy expounded in more conventional military terms, 

isn't it a moot question that once your troops are on the groundonce you decide to put the troops in the highlands, for example, or 

in enclaves on the coast-that imposes an operational strategy on the 

war? And isn't that decision one that was made in Saigon rather than 

in Washington? The initiative, or at least the imperative, to define 

strategy in terms of where the troops are going and how they will 

operate is not really a presidential decision but one in which the 

president defers to his commander in the field. In the period between 

January and July 1965 the alternative of putting forces across Laos 

was not really considered a viable strategic alternative. It was talked 

about among the chiefs. It is my recollection, in fact, that Harold K. 

Johnson was an advocate of this sort of ground operation, of putting 

ground forces across the trail, at least as far as Tchepone. But the 

consensus of opinion among the chiefs was that this would get us 

involved in a strongpoint defense across Indochina similar to what 

the French had tried to do-which was not going to work because a 

strongpoint defense could be bypassed by the infiltrating North Vietnamese, and it involved certain diplomatic considerations with respect to Laos and numbers of troops and logistical support for a 

number of troops that was way beyond the number of ground forces 

that were then being considered. The alternative of bombing was 

considered even earlier, in 1964, in the tank, but the chiefs rejected 

that as a viable alternative at that time. [Demma] 

The documents that are available show the other parts of that 

formula, that is, the much intensified air attack and the mining of 

Haiphong, as part of the recommendations that the chiefs attached 

to Westmoreland's 44-battalion request in the spring of 1965, and 

they were incorporated in McNamara's draft presidential memorandum, in the first version of it, and then soft-pedaled in the second 

version that actually went up to Johnson on the lst of July. [May] 

The thing that struck me in the papers was the difference in 

military influence between 1954 and 1964. In 1954 the president is an 

ex-supreme commander and the Department of Defense seems to be 

dominated solely by ex-World War II major commanders. By 1964 

the World War II commanders were gone. There seems to be little 
252 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

influence of the joint Chiefs on this whole decision-making process. 

What I would like to know is was this accidental, was this a symptom 

of the personality of General Wheeler versus the personality of the 

civilians in charge, or had the structure of the Defense Department 

changed sufficiently by 1964 that it was almost institutionalized, that 

the basic military decisions were in the hands of the civilians? 

(Greenhut] 

Why did the JCS role in 1965 seem to be significantly different 

from its role in the 1950s? First, there is obviously the structural 

explanation, the ramifications of the National Security Act of 1947. 

Those statutory provisions had by the early 1960s been joined by the 

particular managerial style of Secretary of Defense McNamara to 

have the effect of moving the president's senior military advisers 

farther away from his immediate presence. There was, of course, also 

the factor of personality. But I would like to emphasize that the role 

of the JCS during this period, like the roles of most agencies and 

personalities, changed over time. Within a year and a half of his 

becoming chairman, General Wheeler was attending meetings of the 

Tuesday luncheons. Within two years he was disagreeing publicly 

with Secretary McNamara in congressional hearings on air power 

and, indeed, on one occasion on "Meet the Press." So that particular 

bureaucratic context changed. [Miles] 

What you find in 1954, particularly in the person of Ridgway and 

the people around him, is the instance of a "never again" sort of 

hangover from Korea and that we are not about to commit military 

power there unless we can go after China itself. No more limited war 

sort of thing. We cannot do it unless we do it on the larger scale and 

attack the larger enemy. By 1964 the "never again" people have 

apparently gone and the people who have come up do not put the 

same sort of constraints or raise the same sort of issues. [Herring] 

I would like to . . . emphasize the legacy of strategic planning 

between 1952 and 1964 in the commitment of combat forces in 1965. 

The Joint Staff planners had, of course, for some time wrestled with 

the containment of Chinese communism. They considered intervention in Laos, and they planned for the establishment of a Southeast 

Asia Command which would be led by a theater commander in the 

tradition of a MacArthur or an Eisenhower. And those plans did, as 

we know, influence some of the decisions about specific missions in 
DISCUSSION ISSUES 253 

1965. And I think there was another legacy, and that was the legacy 

for communication between the president and his principal military 

advisers. Notwithstanding hearing him say on a number of occasions 

in 1965 that there would be limits on that war, geographical limits 

and limits on the strategic bombing of North Vietnam, it is my 

impression that it was not until the final decision not to place the • 

country on a kind of quasi-war footing at the end of the summer of 

1965 that theJCS realized that the kind ofwar that they had anticipated, that they had been planning for, which had framed a lot of 

their earlier strategic proposals, a war in Southeast Asia at large, was 

not the war that Lyndon Johnson was planning to fight. [Miles] 

3 

The Reactions of Four 

Administrations to the Vietnam Dilemma 

The initial Eisenhower commitment was quite limited because 

the administration had every expectation in late 1954 that at some 

point within a week, a month, maybe a year, it might have to back 

away and pull out and it was prepared to do this. Now certainly there 

are indications of this- Dulles makes it clear that we did not want to 

get too committed or attached to Diem. The irony here is that the 

unexpected success of Diem between October 1954 and the spring of 

1955 tends over the long haul to tighten the commitment that the 

administration had started out with. (Herring] 

I would like to underscore the point about the differentiation 

between Kennedy and Eisenhower. For a variety of political and 

intellectual reasons Kennedy felt himself under a greater compulsion 

than did Eisenhower to respond decisively, basically to employ that 

determination, while Eisenhower was able to afford a greater degree 

of caution. This is a very important and very essential difference. 

[Parmet] 

Regarding the constraints on the Truman and Eisenhower administrations versus the Kennedy and johnson administrations, I 

think at the level of the American effort in Vietnam the American 

advisers and technicians over there (in the fifties) would have been 

amazed and delighted to get the kind of open-ended commitment of 
254 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

resources that the Kennedy and Johnson administrations later put 

into the country. In the Eisenhower period the main preoccupation 

of the advisers over there was that they were always afraid that their 

support was going to be cut, and they never had any idea of getting 

expanded resources. And I think at the national level Eisenhower 

and his advisers had a lot of confidence in what the United States 

could accomplish in the world and the ability of the United States to 

accomplish its aims in the world. But they also had a very, very 

modest idea of how much we could spend for defense purposes. 

People like Treasury Secretary Humphrey got up in the National 

Security Council and said things like: "We can't afford to take responsibility for every little country in the world. They have to stand 

on their own feet." [Spector] 

[Based on) an assessment of how these respective administrations 

viewed the relationship between national strategy and national 

projects I think Eisenhower was quite clear on this. Truman was a 

little bit more complex-certainly NSC 68 is an argument for unlimited spending to defend national interests. However, it seems to me 

that once the Korean War got started, and once the priorities of 

Indochina had to be balanced against the priorities of Korea, Truman clearly operated in Indochina from a framework of limited 

resources. So I think it really is not until the Kennedy-Johnson 

period that you get administrations that can approach the Indochina 

question from a sense that they could spend pretty much whatever 

they needed to spend in this area. They don't have to worry about the 

bottom Jine. [Gaddis] 

It was notjust a sense of resource constraints, it was also a sense 

of political constraints that made the Kennedy and Johnson administrations cautious. I remember in the salad days of 1961 proposing 

to Kennedy that we shed the two Chinas policy. He never replied. I 

sent him a second memo because it seemed to me that that was long 

overdue. By 1960 we were perfectly clear about the Sino-Soviet 

strain. Finally, Kennedy sent me a message: "There are one milJion 

reasons why I am not going to try to change China policy in my first 

administration." That's the Committee of One Million which was at 

the time supporting Taiwan. He did say, however, that if he won by 

a substantial majority in 1964, then we could talk about changing 

China policy. That, it seems to me, was a serious political constraint. 

And Lyndon Johnson, too, of course, was the master politician, 
DISCUSSION ISSUES 255 

always looking over his shoulder on too many openings toward 

China. [Komer] 

4 

The Role of the Individual 

and of Personality in Decision Making 

I would stress the importance of seeing individuals as independent of the policy options and of the policy papers. I remember once 

in the White House, like others in this company, having the opportunity to talk to some of the principal actors. They said, and I had 

heard this again and again: "You know Johnson keeps General 

Wheeler on because he has sympathy for him. They both have bad 

hearts." A small matter. I don't know how this relates to how we 

judge policy and decisions. Another item: In talking to Dean Rusk on 

several occasions he said "Korea" when he meant "Vietnam." Is that 

just because, as assistant secretary, he had dealt with Korea, or does 

this tell us something about motivation and zeal to do in Vietnam 

what couldn't be done in Korea? I recall also talking to George Ball 

about his role as a dove, and asking him about the position he was 

taking, since he had been counsellor to the French embassy and knew 

the whole Vietnam story. Ball said to me: "I want to make one thing 

clear. 1 only present a contrary opinion when I am asked to." The 

public saw a dove who was champing at the bit to present a dovish 

view. Finally, I want to say a word about Lyndon Johnson. He ran 

his luncheons on Tuesdays at which targets were picked. And, as you 

know, Johnson would leave state dinners to find out how the bombing attacks came out. [GrafT] 

From what I have read and heard from people who worked with 

johnson I get the picture of someone who was advised often but did 

not tell people very much about what was going on in his own mind. 

He carried into the White House the view he had on the hill that 

what people didn't know couldn't hurt him. As one of his senior 

advisers put it, it was his practice to make a decision and then to 

organize the process by which that decision was made, by which that 

decision became a matter of consensus. People quite close to him did 

not know when he made that decision; it became apparent to them 

as they saw the processes being organized. He brought himself to this 
256 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

set of questions rather on personal impulse, that is, a personal impulse to not be defeated and that the U.S. would not have to turn 

around and be defeated. From the other side, it was his habit not to 

give Westmoreland everything he asked for, but never to have Westmoreland say that he had never been given what he asked for, which 

is a different proposition. Now if that is right and this picture of him 

affects the decisions made in this period, it really is a question of 

permanent forces versus individual forces. If you imagine someone 

different in that job-say Adlai Stevenson or Scoop Jackson-could 

anyone argue that they would have organized the processes differently, that the outcomes might have been different? And the same 

might have been true had Lyndon Johnson not been on the ticket and 

Kennedy not have carried Texas and Richard Nixon been president. 

(May) 

With General Wheeler we are not dealing with a man who in 

January 1965 had, like George Marshall, wrestled with comparable 

issues of mobilization and the adjustment of American war plans 

after the fall of France or the invasion of Iraly. We are talking of a 

man who had been chairman of the Joint Chiefs for less than six 

months, who was overshadowed in many negotiations by his former 

mentor, Maxwell Taylor, for whom he had served as assistant deputy 

chief of staff for operations. [Miles) 

I think it is very important that we focus in on Lyndon Johnson 

since he was making the ultimate decisions. The thing I am a little 

concerned about is that we begin to look at Johnson and focus on the 

personality to the point where we miss the kind of options that are 

coming up to him. It is very easy to talk of Johnson in the most 

extreme form, as Wright Pattman did, to say that to understand him 

you have to understand that he is the last cowboy. But I think you 

have to go beyond that and ask questions. George Herring is finishing a book now on the U.S. in Vietnam and one of the things George 

is concluding is that throughout 1964 and 1965 Johnson was pushed 

very, very hard to escalate the war and Johnson was raising essentially the same types of questions in these months that Eisenhower 

was raising in 1954. In that sense Herring thinks that Johnson is 

playing a much more important role as a hurdle to the people who 

wanted to escalate the war. On the other hand, it does seem to me 

thatJohnson is being presented with certain alternatives, that this is 

not a man who is particularly sophisticated or informed about what 
DISCUSSION ISSUES 257 

is going on in Southeast Asia or in terms of military strategy. 

(LaFeber] 

As I was going out ofThieu's office on january 30, 1975 we went 

down a back way and came to the famous sand table where he 

practiced his maneuvering and I said, "What is that?" He said, 

"That's my sand table and that is where I direct my troops from." 

I asked, "How can you do it from here?" and he said, "Well, my 

generals do not understand how to fight this war." And I think that 

was what worried me the most. Part of the responsibility (for the 

defeat] has to be the senior leadership of the (South Vietnamese] 

army which was not respected or trusted by its president, who was 

also a general, and which makes what happened in 1975 a double 

tragedy because it was utterly preventable, avoidable, but for better 

military leadership. [Goodman) 

There is a sort of constant in writing about Vietnam. All the 

Vietnamese writings suggest we lost because we were not proud 

enough, or patriotic enough, or dedicated enough, and all the military writings blame everything on leadership. Instead of analyzing 

the policies or the organization or the institutions, they blame everything on leadership. There is never any consideration of the possibility that sometimes the right policies work with less leadership or the 

same real-life people that you have. [Popkin) 

5 

The Eurocentric Basis 

of America's Indochina Policy 

Even though our attention shifted to Asia at the time of the North 

Korean attack, even though both limited wars Americans have 

fought in the nuclear age were conventional and both in the Far East, 

the bias of our policy was very consistently Eurocentric. And our 

Indochina policy, sometimes to the despair of our Far East experts, 

was basically oriented toward supporting France in the defense of 

Europe and therefore paying a much higher price in Indochina policy than perhaps we should have. [Komer] 

A lot of the impetus for getting involved in Indochina after the 

Second World War was Eurocentric. We were in Indochina to move 
258 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

France as a government to the right, to cool anti-Americanism, to 

weaken the position of the French Communist party. Somewhere 

there was a shift between 1950 and 1954 from being in Vietnam for 

the sake of France to being in Vietnam for the sake of dominoes or 

Asia. I'm not clear how that happened. [Popkin] 

I trace the shift to the latter part of 1949 and the early part of 1950 

with the new NSC document on Asia, with the fall ofChina, and all 

that comes with this, and then Korea really sort of confirms it and 

reinforces it. That is where I see Asian factors balancing or even 

exceeding the importance of Europe. Now European factors are still 

important-the EDC and in matters like this-but still the Asian 

factor is crucial from the latter part of 1949 on. [Herring) 

6 

The Effect of Public Opinion 

and Moral Factors on Decisions on the War 

Public opinion did very much to color Johnson's attitude [about 

being in Vietnam]. I think whatJohnson really worried more about 

was the backlash that he would get if he were to pull out of Indochina. Johnson was very much influenced by what had happened 

to the people who had lost China. Again, this Korea-China analogy 

is very important in this matter. He is on record as having said what 

he thought the consequences would be if he were perceived to have 

lost Indochina. The right-wing backlash, or at least the image of the 

right-wing backlash, whether it ever really existed or not, was very 

powerful in his mind throughout this period. I list that as being the 

single most important example of a perception of public opinion 

influencing him. [Gaddis] 

There is a dichotomy here in public opinion as it existed from the 

fifties onward. On the one hand, they do not want to lose more Asian 

real estate, but on the other they do not want a big commitment that 

is going to be costly. That is what the president had to maneuver 

around. [Herring] 

I believe that public opinion has been one of the underlying 

themes of the entire symposium. It seems to me that one of the great, 
DISCUSSION ISSUES 259 

decisive failings of the American government during the war was its 

inability to explain the war persuasively to the American people. 

Changing policies over the years were one reason for this failure. 

Another may well have been the conflicting perceptions of the war. 

But also standing in the way of rational and basically honest explanations of the war were the moral and missionary ideals that still play 

such an important role in American society. As difficult and perhaps 

in the end even impossible though it would have been, more should 

have been done than the government did to educate public opinion. 

I do not mean propaganda but an honest effort to convey a sense that 

moral probity was not enough in foreign affairs, that moral probity 

must inspire but cannot take the place of realistic power politics to 

protect the national interest. That, of course, goes against the grain 

of an important segment of American public opinion. But if a more 

serious effort had been made in that direction, the Vietnam War 

might not have become the extremely difficult and painful learning 

experience that it was and that in some ways continues to be today. 

[Paret] 

Ultimately, the Vietnam War and the commitment to it that we 

have been talking about became a moral and ethical issue in the 

country. Where, when, and how do questions of this sort become 

appropriate, or do they become appropriate, for historians some 

thirty years later? [Challener] 

One thing that can be said about the relationship between issues 

and morality, not just in Vietnam but in the cold war in general, is 

that somewhere along in the early days of the cold war, let's say 

about the time of Korea, the idea got started within the U.S. government that in an all-out conflict almost anything is justified. Morality 

is a very flexible concept. And the kinds of things that in an earlier 

stage of our history we might not have contemplated, such as covert 

operations, became perfectly standard procedure as a consequence of 

the cold war. It seems to me that same framework obtains throughout the Vietnam War, even though it has been called into question 

from outside the government and even though it can be demonstrated that this kind of immorality has had an unfortunate effect on 

the American position in the world as well as on public support. But 

it seems to me this never really filters in at the policy level until 

Jimmy Carter comes in. I do not think we can say that Nixon and 

Kissinger, to any very great extent, took these considerations into 
260 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

account in planning their policy. Although Kissinger made interesting speeches on the relationship between morality and foreign policy 

while he was secretary of state, it is really not until Carter that you 

begin to get a president who was looking at this not onJy in terms of 

what is required by the balance of power or other standard considerations, but also what is appropriate behavior for the United States. 

And certain constraints that develop within the Carter administration regarding intervention in the third world areas flow from this 

sense that Carter had that this is inappropriate behavior for the 

United States. That proved to be a rather tenuous thing as the Soviet 

Union became more active in this part of the world. (Gaddis] 

I happen to think that the rhetoric about credibility in the world 

and dominoes (in 1965] was a way of trying to put realistic rhetoric 

around what was essentially a sentimental position, and that fundamentally what was pushing most if not all people was what was in a 

memorandum from Mr. Rusk to the president during this period of 

debate in the middle of 1965 where he said simply that as long as the 

South Vietnamese were fighting for themselves we cannot desert 

them. We cannot abandon a friend. I think that kind of sentimental 

sense of it was very powerful. That was one kind of moral position. 

There was another moral position which was represented briefly by 

Hubert Humphrey in a memorandum to the president {that then 

resulted in his being excluded from counsels on the question) in 

which he said it is more important to get the Great Society through. 

T he higher morality involved service at home, he said, and the 

president was going to compromise that if he pursued this other 

moral objective outside. There was a third morality which was embodied in the movement which took to itself the name "antiwar" 

which was the morality that said that we are wrong and they are 

right. (May] 

I do not accept the notion that there is something peculiar about 

the American people in terms of fighting or sustaining war. I think 

the issue is what are you fighting about, what are the issues, what are 

the dangers, are they salable, are they definable to the American 

people. If you can define a problem properly and make it clear that 

America has to fight for fifty years, the American people will fight a 

fifty-year war. It is up to you to define the war in terms that they are 

willing to fight for fifty years. If you can do that I do not see that 

the American people are in any way historically unique in their 
DISCUSSION ISSUES 261 

behavior. The real task is to define the interests in ways that are very 

accurate, and if you can do that and do not always act unilaterally 

but assume that other nations also understand their interests and will 

behave accordingly, you have a lot of built-in, automatic support. 

[Graebner] 

7 

The Strategy for Fighting the War 

We should always keep in mind the dualism of the Vietnam War. 

The war always existed on two levels, one military and one political. 

Such was its nature. The Communists understood this much better 

than we. Their strategy in fact rested upon the concept of dau tranharmed struggle, political struggle. We did not understand the nature 

of the war as the other side perceived it. That is the primary reason 

it turned out the way it did. The Vietnam War was a very different 

kind of war. If we lost the battles we lost the war; if we won the 

battles we didn't necessarily win the war. The American military did 

everything that was expected of it and more. It was the system we 

were up against, in part our failure to understand the other side, a 

very understandable human failure. [Pike) 

By what processes do societies decide in what manner they 

should apply their resources for war? I think one answer is that 

usually the process is a sloppy one, involving a great many kinds of 

people ranging from combat soldiers to technological experts, politicians, and even including a few theorists. Even heads of state who 

were true commanders in the field, such as Frederick the Great or 

Napoleon, devised their concepts and techniques from the experience 

and ideas of others, which they then shaped for their own purposes. 

Even for them the process was disjointed, the process of formulating 

strategic theory, operations doctrine. But the product of the process 

can usually be judged with a good deal of accuracy. A strategy is 

effective if it works against your particular opponent and if it suits the 

capabilities and ways of doing things of your own society. The war 

in Vietnam-already difficult because it demanded the closest cooperation with an ally whose interests and whose ways of doing things 

differed very considerably from ours-presented the American government and its forces with particularly harsh strategic problems. 
262 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Certain strategic decisions demanded far-reaching operational and 

tactical innovations. And these innovations had to be linked with 

changes in attitude. I am thinking, for instance, of counterinsurgency 

and the pacification programs which seem to have been more difficult for Americans to implement than were large-scale conventional 

operations. [Paret] 

One thesis with which I find myself in some disagreement is that 

the war was fought without adequate understanding of the demands 

of the war. That seems to me a doubtful proposition. If you look at 

the documents that were moving around Washington in 1965 and at 

what people in MACV were saying, what people in the Pentagon 

were saying about the requirements of the war, the numbers are 

extraordinarily like the numbers that actually turned out to be required. Westmoreland was saying 175,000 now, at least 100,000 to 

follow, more later. By November 1965 the numbers they were talking 

about were approximately those actually there by 1968. McNamara 

was telling the president that there would be a thousand a month 

killed in action. The estimate from MACV was that it would take till 

the end of 196 7 or the beginning of 1968 to achieve a level of stability 

on the ground in South Vietnam which would make possible offensive action. All of that seems to me to have been quite accurate, very 

much on the nose, in terms of resource requirements and what actually developed. Lots of misunderstanding of the situation on the 

ground, but if you look at other assessments, indeed if you even think 

about what the American chiefofstaffand British chiefs of staff were 

estimating in 1942 would be the requirements for fighting in 1944, 

they were much farther off the mark. And if you look at the assessments that all powers were making of one another and of the requirements of war for each of the two world wars, the performance of the 

American government in Vietnam was well, well above that. Where 

they went wrong was their appraisal of what the requirements were 

back home. (May] 

For one reason or another the United States prepared the South 

Vietnamese Army for an across-the-border invasion like Korea and 

many have said that if we did things the other way, preparing for 

guerrillas, everything might have been all right. I think the essential 

point here is that the Communists had two weapons on their side, 

they had guerrillas and they had a main force. And they could choose 

which way to do it. We prepared for one so, not surprisingly, they did 

it the other way. [Popkin) 
DISCUSSION ISSUES 

8 

The Feelings of U.S. Decision 

Makers on Vietnamization 

263 

I find very early in 1970 neither Nixon nor Kissinger expected 

that there would be a mutual withdrawal. In fact, they were planning 

for a cease-fire in place. Yet Vietnamization is adopted with the 

expectation that the RVNAF will have to compete with the North 

Vietnamese and certainly with units occupying areas that they have 

traditionally occupied in I Corps and IV Corps and along the border, 

and that our objective should be that they will be strong enough by 

1972 to live with the military situation which is essentially a ceasefire in place. So I do not think we deluded ourselves at the time by 

saying this would only work with mutual withdrawal. I think we 

expected there would not be a mutual withdrawal. I also do not think 

that they expected that it would work. One of the things that comes 

through clearly to me in 1969-1972, all the way up to Watergate, is 

the clear expectation that none of this will work, neither the negotiated agreement nor Vietnamization, nor both together, unless we 

retain the capability to put as much money into South Vietnam as it 

needed semiannually, and we had a credible threat that if the North 

Vietnamese built a thousand kilometer all-weather road into the 

South, if they moved three or four divisions into the South, we would 

respond by air. And so I think the whole assumption in part was 

underlain by the fact that we could provide a credible threat once we 

had left to return with aviation and we could be credible with respect 

to the kind of economic and military aid we could provide the South. 

So again I do not think we adopted the policy with an illusion as long 

as we set the limits on ourselves that people did not think we could 

fulfill. We did not anticipate, of course, Watergate and the Cambodian bombing congressional cutoff. [Goodman] 

9 

The Costs of the Nixon-Kissinger Policy 

The Nixon policy has been characterized as a successful strategy 

or policy of disengagement. I might with all respect characterize it 

differently. It was a policy that did succeed. It took four years for the 

United States to disengage. Within that four years, it seems to me, 

one has also to total up the cost ... in dead, in billions of dollars and, 
264 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

more importantly, I think, in a worsening of the rending of the fabric 

internally in the United States which I think has had some more 

long-range effects. I do not know how to characterize the policy other 

than as costly and I do not know what other alternatives were available. [Kohn] 

The costs of cut and run were horrendous. I would add another 

cost-it cost us about a decade of strategic modernization. I used to 

tell theJCS that if they wanted to know where all the planes and guns 

and tanks and missiles that they wanted had gone-and they were 

constantly complaining through the seventies-it had gone down the 

drain in Vietnam. Because it was the direct, the indirect, the political, and the psychological impact of Vietnam on the American psyche and the result on the American Congress's unwillingness to vote 

defense funding that really undercut American modernization of 

conventional forces as well as strategic. I would estimate it at half a 

trillion dollars. In other words, I would estimate the cost of Vietnam 

to us in strategic terms the greatest single cost-the loss of a decade 

of modernization. The incremental cost to us as Americans in fiscal 

1984 dollars-in today's or last year's constant dollars-was on the 

order of 330 billion. That is not just an estimate. After all, we know 

ex post facto what we spent. That is just the incremental cost. To that 

I think one must add, again in fiscal 1984 dollars, the cuts in the 

defense programs by the Congress to make us expiate Vietnam. They 

run, again in fiscal 1984 dollars, on the order of 150 billion. Add 

those two figures together and I think we may lay aside the 57,000 

men we lost and the infinitely larger number of people, South Vietnamese, killed, wounded, or now in slavery, the war cost us half a 

trillion dollars. Most of this half trillion came out of investment 

accounts, and that is one of the most important strategic consequences of the Vietnam War that has to be assessed by historians. I 

would like to point out, however, that the Korean War, which was 

also stalemated and from which we also disengaged, had exactly the 

opposite effect. It led to the rearmament of the West. It was the 

North Korean attack on the South that triggered the great U.S. 

rearmament. (Komer] 

In 1973 I was giving a seminar in strategic intelligence and 

defense policy, and I stopped the seminar in the middle and asked 

how many of the students would favor the reenactment of the draft. 

There were eleven students in the seminar and one hand went up. I 
DISCUSSION ISSUES 265 

then said, "Let me rephrase the question. How many of you would 

favor a draft if you did not have to serve?" Nine hands went up. 

That's the cost, not money. (Colvin] 

It's not how many men you can produce in a replay ofWorld War 

II-we mobilized, what, eleven million men-but how many you 

can get overseas in certain contingencies in the first twenty-four to 

forty-eight hours. That is what makes the difference. I don't want a 

draft. If I were secretary of defense I would not want a draft if it were 

offered to me. I could neither equip nor train the draftees-not if we 

drafted them on any equitable basis. (Komer] 

It's perfectly obvious when you study the draft picture that in the 

early years of the war you were much more apt to be drafted if you 

were poor, disadvantaged, or black. If you were in one of those 

categories you were much more apt to go to Vietnam, and in Vietnam you were much more apt to be in the infantry and get yourself 

killed. That was not lost on the American youth. But I maintain that 

the ground swell of opinion turned against the war when middleclass families were starting to have their sons drafted and sent to 

Vietnam. So while the draft toards were drafting people who had no 

economic or political or social standing that was perfectly all right. 

But when their sons were drafted, that's when the dissent started. We 

can document that. We all knew it. President Nixon made a campaign promise to do away with the draft. Mel Laird told me later 

(this was after Nixon was inaugurated) that every member of Nixon's 

cabinet recommended against it, for different reasons. Some of the 

reasons were philosophical, plus the cost. The president said he was 

going to do it anyway and he did. As you recall, the president moved 

to a lottery system by the end of 1969. If we'd done that in 1967 we 

might have avoided the whole problem because if the system is a fair 

system, if it were based on a lottery system, I think the American 

youth would have accepted it a lot more. [B. Palmer] 

10 

The Impact of Vietnam on the U.S. Army 

We have to attempt to keep separated the various social phenomena of our time, those which were Vietnam related and those which 
266 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

were not. It was a time of worldwide cultural revolution; it affected 

race relations, the status of women, the concept of patriotism, length 

of hair, kinds of music we listened to, the environmental outlook, 

a lmost everything. The question is how much did Vietnam influence 

these? Or, on the other side of the coin, how much of this would there 

have been had there been no Vietnam at all? I think that is the most 

difficult sorting-out process that a historian has to do. [Pike) 

It hasn't been brought out here what the war did to the strategic 

posture of the United States. It destroyed the U.S. 7th Army in 

Germany without the enemy firing a shot. It destroyed that army 

because we were so strategically out of balance we used the 7th Army 

as a replacement for Vietnam. (B. Palmer) 

It seems to me that there is another issue that ought to be addressed, namely the impact of the Vietnam War on the Army's 

self-image as a part of the national defense establishment in terms of 

strategy, tactics, and doctrine. I think the impact was zilch. I think 

that the Army regarded Vietnam as an aberration, that having gone 

through this searing experience the Army concluded that Vietnam 

was something that was so outside the normal role, responsibility, 

and function of an army that it should be buried as quickly as 

possible. I doubt that there was much tactical innovation. The Army 

returned to what it regarded as its main mission, which was contrjbuting to the defense of Europe as part of the NATO coalition. The 

Army rejected the idea that we should seriously study (the war). In 

effect it went the opposite way in terms of its self-image of its role in 

Vietnam. It rejected the strategic and tactical aspects of Vietnam, 

the idea that it was going to be involved in future counterinsurgency 

operations, or even that it should analyze what counterinsurgency 

meant or analyze in somewhat greater depth what the insurgency in 

Southeast Asia was all about. I am not speaking as a historian but 

as one who went around and finally had to deal with an Army that 

regarded Vietnam as an aberration. So I would like to suggest to you 

that, utterly contrary to the impact on the Army's sociological image, 

the impact on the Army's self-image of what armies are for was 

practically nothing at all. [Komer] 

It has often been suggested that the mood in America was in part 

because of Vietnam. Since there was the same mood in J apan, Germany, England, France, and China when there was the huge peer 
DISCUSSION I SSUES 267 

boom, it would be more correct to say that Vietnam happened to 

occur at a time when this was going to happen whether or not there 

had been a Vietnam. Vietnam did not create the cultural revolution 

in any of these Western countries. It just coincided with it. Nevertheless, it is clear that the Army had bad morale in Vietnam, that the 

Army was not happy with its mission. Was this entirely attributable 

to the attitudes in America about the war and the Army, or could this 

have been changed if the Army had been told that they were there to 

defend the Vietnamese rather than to kill people so that the fighting 

was part of a defensive mission? Would it have made a difference, or 

was it simply impossible to give the American soldiers any kind of a 

positive identification with a culture and s9ciety so culturally and 

socially different from ours? [Popkin] 

There were a lot of attempts between 1970 and 1973 on the part 

of the Army to give the soldier some kind of positive image of what 

he was doing but they were not very successful. T he mission absolutely makes a difference on morale, even among allegedly professional forces. The marines who went to Lebanon in the early years, 

or even the marines who were in Lebanon when things got bad, their 

morale was helped tremendously by the knowledge that the public 

was behind them. And that made a tremendous difference even 

though they could not figure out what their mission was. The fact 

that the public was supporting them convinced them that they must 

be there for some good reason, and it kept their morale up very well. 

[Spector] 

11 

The Reciprocal Effects Between 

the War and American Credibility 

Whether it was a fundamental motive or not is open to debate, 

but one of the things that people in government were talking about 

[during the war] was credibility, about the importance of fulfilling 

commitments in Vietnam, of standing fast in Vietnam, ofholding the 

line, because of the reputation of the United States, because of the 

larger credibili ty of the United States in global competition with the 

Soviet Union and its associates. Now clearly in the period after 

Vietnam, partly affected by the war, the credibility of the United 
268 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

States is diminished. What was hoped for by the managers of the war 

did not come about. A lot of things affected [foreign) estimates of 

American judgment in conducting the war. The greater consciousness in other countries, not only in Southeast Asia but around the 

world, of the existence of the second branch. We are reminded of the 

power of the legislative branch and the absence of complete independence on the part of the executive. We have seen the effects on capital 

investment in the defense sector of the United States, surely with 

effects on American credibility. I think it is fair to say that if you had 

been able to get consensus of expert judgment at the beginning of the 

1960s, the American Army in Europe, the Bundeswehr, and the Israeli 

Defense Forces would have been rated as the three outstanding military forces in the world. By the end of the sixties the U.S. Army in 

Europe was certainly not in that company. I think it may be easier 

to trace causal connection through Soviet commentary on American 

forces when, for example, you look at what was written on the twentieth anniversary of the Normandy landing as compared to what was 

written on the thirtieth. There's a lot of difference. On the twentieth 

anniversary the emphasis was on the cunning that the United States 

was displaying in withholding its actions in Europe until Russia had 

been bled. By the thirtieth anniversary they are saying that it was 

evidence of ineptness and cowardice on the part of the Americans. I 

find it hard not to feel that this was affected by their observation of 

Vietnam. In any case, it is clear that there was a diminution in the 

credibility of the United States which the American policymakers 

had hoped to protect by their decisions regarding Vietnam. [May] 

There is a problem of the United States' credibility abroad. 

When I get in touch with a lot of my friends in Asia or in some other 

small countries they are very much troubled by the spectacle, for 

instance, of having the U.S. administration, approved by the Congress, helping the Contras but within nine months saying there is 

nothing of this sort any more. And there is the problem of having the 

troops in Lebanon and approved by the Congress for ninety days, but 

after the bombing in Beirut the Congress returned and said no more 

ninety days, maybe two weeks. So it is quite perplexing for an observer from the outside world to see where the U.S. credibility is. 

[Bui Diem] 

There were fundamental changes (during the war] in Washington's understanding of the relationship between communism and 
DISCUSSION ISSUES 269 

nationalism in Asia, and yet, despite them, the proclaimed American 

interest in Vietnam remained unchanged-so much so that one is left 

with the impression that the interest may in fact have had little to do 

with perceived external threats at all but rather reflected certain 

internal insecurities about ourselves. Notable among these was an 

obsession with credibility, the belief that if we did not regularly and 

consistently demonstrate our willingness to defend even peripheral 

interests, all interests would be disastrously called into question. We 

can see today how implausible that argument was. We have proven 

ourselves unable to defend interests once considered important, not 

just in Indochina, but in Afghanistan, Iran, Nicaragua, and Lebanon 

as well. And yet, can it be said today that our influence in the world 

at large is any less than it was, say, in 1965, or 1975, especially when 

balanced off against that of the Soviet Union? [Gaddis] 

12 

The Status of Scholarship on the War 

The war was a condition of competing perceptions, and the job 

of the historian is to work back through these perceptions to try to 

find the truth. My personal opinion is that we are not yet ready to do 

this, but should remain at the perception level for another period of 

time. We should not rush to judgment. We should bear in mind that 

much of the "truth" about the Vietnam War can be irrelevant because it was the untruths that had the impact, the meaning, that 

shaped the heritage. We live in an age of exaggeration: television 

commercials, media hype, the language of the young. The writers 

about Vietnam-fiction more than nonfiction, although I think this 

tends to extend over to nonfiction as well- the overriding characteristic about them is this hyperbolic exaggeration. It is made worse 

because it is a parochial condition, a very narrow view. These writers 

know something about Vietnam, about the map, but they know very 

little about other wars, about other places, about other times. Vietnam, they tell us, was the most horrible war, the most atrocity-ridden 

war, the most bloody and destructive war, the roughest war ever. 

The fact is that it was not. It was rough for some, but even then it 

was not the roughest. I would put up against anything I experienced 

in Vietnam the mind-destroying artillery shelling of World War I, 

the release of poison gas in which you die by drowning in your own 

blood. I would put up the savage island-hopping of the South Pacific 
270 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

in World War II, the Anzio beachhead, the Battle of the Bulge, the 

Chosan Reservoir in Korea-Vietnam had no monopoly on rough 

warfare. But this hyperbole permeates all the writings on Vietnam. 

If they do write a serious book about the meaning of Vietnam, its 

theme will be that we lost the war because we did not understand it. 

The historian's primary task is to answer the question "Was it necessary?" in terms that have validity, in terms that have meaning, in 

terms that have relevance to what actually went on there and what 

did not. We are still at the level of perception, in a prison of competing perceptions with respect to Vietnam. With respect to the other 

side, we are now blessed with a vast amount of data that we did not 

have before. This is material from Hanoi. It is very candid, it is 

revealing (and also self-serving), but highly valuable in the hands of 

people who know how to read it, and for the first time serious scholarship about the other side is now possible. It was not really possible 

during the war and right after the war because of the paucity of 

materials. But we do not understand the war in a technical sense. 

That is a body of knowledge as to what the other side was doing, 

what they intended, what their strategy was, what their doctrine was. 

There was never any serious effort to address this within the American establishment. [Pike] 
Symposium Participants 

Richard D. Challener is Professor of History, Princeton University. 

He received the B.A. from Princeton and the M.A. and Ph.D. from 

Columbia University. His publications include The French Theoryofthe 

Nation in Arms, 1866-1939 (1955), and Admirals, Generals and American 

Foreign Policy, 1898- 1914 (1973). 

Alexander S. Cochran, Jr., is a historian at the U.S. Army Center of 

Military History. Dr. Cochran received the B.A. from Yale University and the M.A. and Ph.D. from the University of Kansas. He 

served fifteen years as a regular Army officer, which included two 

tours in Vietnam. His publications include Magic Diplomatic Summary 

(1981). 

Edward M. Coffman is Professor of History, University of 

Wisconsin-Madison. He received the B.A., M.A., and the Ph.D. 

from the University of Kentucky. His publications include The Hilt 

of the Sword: The Career of Peyton C. March ( 1966) and The War to End 

All Wars: The American Military Experience in World War I (1968). 

John Lewis Gaddis is Professor of History, Ohio University. He 

received the B.A., M.A., and the Ph.D. from the University ofTexas 

in Austin. His publications include The United States and the Origins of 

the Cold War, 1941- 1947 (1972), Russia, the Soviet Union and the United 

States: An Interpretive History ( 1978), and Strategies of Containment: A 

Critical Appraisal of Post-War American National Security Policy (1982). 

Allan E. Goodman, Associate Dean and Director of the Master of 

Science in Foreign Service Program at Georgetown University, 

served as Presidential Briefing Coordinator for the Director of Central Intelligence and as Special Assistant to the Director of the National Foreign Assessment Center. He is the author of The Lost Peace: 

America,'s Search for a Negotiated Settlement of the Vietnam War ( 1978) and 

Politics in War: The Bases of Political Community in South Vietnam ( 1973). 

271 
272 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Norman A. Graebner is Stettinius Professor of Modern American 

History at the University of Virginia. He received the B.S. from 

Wisconsin State Teacher's College, the M.A. from the University of 

Oklahoma, and the Ph.D. from the University of Chicago. His publications include Ideas and Diplomacy (1964), Manifest Destiny (1968), 

and The Age of Global Power ( 1979). 

George C. Herring, Jr., is Professor of History at the University of 

Kentucky. He received the B.A. at Roanoke College and the M.A. 

and Ph.D. at the University of Virginia. His publications include Aid 

to Russia, 1941-1946: Strategy, Diplomacy and the Origins of the Cold War 

(1973), The Diaries of Edward R. Stettinius, Jr., 1943-46 (1975), and 

America's Longest War: The United States and Vietnam, 1950-1975 ( 1979). 

Richard A. Hunt is a historian at the U.S. Army Center of Military 

History. He received the B.A. at Rutgers and M.A. and Ph.D. at the 

University of Pennsylvania. He is coeditor of Lusons From an Unconventional War (1982) and is completing a volume on pacification in 

Vietnam. 

Douglas Kinnard, Brigadier General, USA (Ret.), was Director of 

the U.S. Army Center of Military History. Previously, he was Professor of Political Science at the University of Vermont. He received the 

B.S. from the U.S. Military Academy and M.A. and Ph.D. from 

Princeton University. His publications include President Eisenhower 

and Strategy Management: A Study in Defense Politics (1977), The War 

Managers ( 1977), and The Secretary of Defense ( 1981). 

Robert W. Komer, ambassador and educator, received the B.S. and 

M.B.A. from Harvard University. He has served with the CIA, the 

National Security Council, and the Departments of Defense and 

State. Ambassador Komer was the director of the pacification effort 

in Vietnam (CORDS), ambassador to Turkey, adviser to the Defense Secretary for NATO affairs, and Undersecretary for Policy in 

the Defense Department. His publications include Bureaucracy Does Its 

Thing: Institutional Constraints on US-G VN Performance in Vietnam ( 1972), 

and Maritime Strategy or Coalition Defense? ( 1984). 

Walter LaFeber is Professor of History, Cornell University. He received the B.A. from Stanford University and the Ph.D. from the 

University of Wisconsin. His publications include The New Empire: 

An Interpretation of American Expansion 1860-1898 ( 1963), The American 

Century ( 197 5), and America, Russia and the Cold War, 1945-1975 ( 1976). 
SYMPOSIUM PARTICIPANTS 273 

Ernest R. May is Charles Warren Professor of History, Harvard 

University. He received the B.A. and Ph.D. from the University of 

California in Los Angeles. His publications include From imperialism 

to isolationism ( 1963), Lessons From the Past: The Use and Misuse of History 

in American Foreign Policy (1973), and The Making of the Monroe Doctrine 

( 1976). 

Paul L. Miles, Colonel, USA, is an Associate Professor at the U.S. 

Military Academy. He received the B.S. from the U.S. Military 

Academy, an M.A. from Oxford University, and an M.A. from 

Princeton University. He served in Vietnam between 1965-1966 and 

1972-1973, during the latter tour as a member of the U.S. Delegation 

to the joint Military Commission. Colonel Miles is the author of the 

forthcoming American Grand Strategy in the Second World War: The Role 

of Admiral William D. Leahy. 

Robert O'Neill is Director, International Institute of Strategic Studies, London. A graduate of the Royal Military College of Australia 

and the Universities of Melbourne and Oxford, he served in the 

Australian Army from 1955 to 1968, including a tour in Vietnam in 

1966-1967. His publications include Vietnam Task ( 1968), General 

Giap: Politician and Strategist ( 1969), and Australia in the Korean War, 

i950-53 (198 1). 

Bruce Palmer, Jr., General, USA (Ret.), is a graduate of the U.S. 

Military Academy. He served during the 1960s as Commander of the 

U.S. Land Forces in the Dominican Republic and as Commander, II 

Field Force, Vietnam, and Deputy Commander of the U.S. Army, 

Vietnam. He was Vice Chief of Staff of the U.S. Army from 1968 

through 1973. From july through October 1972, he served as Acting 

Chief of Staff of the U.S. Army. General Palmer is the author of The 

Twenty-Five Year War: America's Military Role in Vietnam (1984). 

Peter Paret is Raymond A. Spruance Professor of International History, Stanford University. He received the B.A. from the University 

ofCalifornia in Berkeley and the Ph.D. from the University of London. His publications include Clausewitz and the State ( 1976), Clausewitz, On War (coeditor and translator) ( 1976), and The Berlin Secession 

( 1980). 
274 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Herbert S. Parmet is Distinguished Professor of History, Queens borough Community College, CUNY. He received the B.A. from the 

City College ofNew York and the M.A. and Ph.D. from Columbia 

University. His publications include Eisenhower and the American Crusades (1972), The Democrats: The Years afler FDR {1976), and jack: The 

Struggle of john F. Kennedy { 1980). 

Douglas Pike is Director of the Indochina Studies Program of the 

Institute of East Asian Studies at the University of California (Berkeley). He is a retired foreign service officer whose government posts 

included Saigon, Hong Kong, Taipei, and Tokyo. He received the 

B.A. from the University ofCalifornia at Berkeley and the M.A. from 

American University, and is the author of War, Peace and the Viet Gong 

( 1969), and History of the Vietnamese Communist Party ( 1978), and is 

completing two full-length studies titled Soviet- Vietnamese Relations 

1917-1982: A Geo-Political Study and People's Army of Vietnam: The Army 

that Beat America . 

Ronald H. Spector is Associate Professor of History, University of 

Alabama. He received the B.A. from Johns Hopkins and the Ph.D. 

from Yale. His publications include Professors of War: The Naval War 

College and the Naval Profession ( 1977), Advice and Support: The Early 

Years (1983), and Eagle Against the Sun: The American War With japan 

{1984). 
Symposium Attendees 

Lt. Col. Harry Borowski 

U.S. Air Force Academy 

Peter Braestrup 

Woodrow Wilson International 

Center for Scholars 

Bui Diem 

American Enterprise Institute 

Dr. Jeffrey Clarke 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Professor Milton Colvin 

Washington and Lee 

University 

Dr. Graham Cosmas 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Dr. George A. Daoust, Jr. 

National Council of Technical 

Service Industries 

Vincent Demma 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Professor Dorothy C. Donnelly 

Chatham College 

Professor William J. Duiker 

Pennsylvania State University 

275 

Col. Roy K. Flint 

U.S. Military Academy 

Professor Henry F. Graff 

Columbia University 

Dr. J effrey Greenhut 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Dr. William M. Hammond 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Bruce Hardcastle 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Dr. Brooks Kleber 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Dr. Richard Kohn 

Office of Air Force History 

Professor Lawrence Lichty 

University of Maryland 

Professor Timothy J. Lomperis 

Duke University 

George L. MacGarrigle 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 
276 SECOND INDOCHINA WAR SYMPOSIUM 

Dr. joel D. Meyerson 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Maj. Gen. Dave R. Palmer 

U.S. Army Command and General Staff College 

Col. Rod Paschall 

Military History Institute 

Lt. Col. Richard 0. Perry 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Professor Samuel L. Popkin 

University of California at San 

Diego 

Dr. john Schlight 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Dr. Lewis Sorley 

Azonic Services Corporation 

Col. Peter L. Stromberg 

U.S. Military Academy 

Lt. Col. Adrian Traas 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Dr. David F. Trask 

U.S. Army Center of Military 

History 

Dr. David Turner 

Silver Spring, Maryland 

Dr. Wade Tyree 

Lexington, Virginia 

Professor Marilyn B. Young 

New York University 

o U S COVERNMENT PRJNTINC OHIC£ 1986 C81·50~/42H9