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Nation: WHAT WITHDRAWAL WOULD REALLY MEAN

18 minute read
TIME

AS the Moratorium showed, the call is growing for immediate and unconditional U.S. withdrawal from Viet Nam. For a good many, “immediate” means by the end of 1970, as specified in the bill sponsored by New York’s Senator Charles E. Goodell. Other Moratorium supporters or sympathizers would not necessarily go that far—at least not yet. Actually, more significant than a deadline is the demand for a public commitment that U.S. forces will be totally withdrawn regardless of progress in Saigon or any other factor. The demand for such a withdrawal has increased significantly. In the words of one Rand expert, “Unilateral withdrawal is now respectable.” It seems like such a tempting idea to a great many people, so inviting an end to what has become a national nightmare, that the case needs to be reexamined.

The Case for a Pullout

The argument for immediate withdrawal comes in many forms. To some of its advocates, a kind of moral imperative is involved—the war is evil, the U.S. has no right to be in Viet Nam, the Saigon government is rotten and without popular support, etc.

In its more reasoned and restrained Version, however, the argument is persuasive. It goes something like this: The U.S. is pledged to leave anyway. It would indeed be useful if, before departing, the U.S. were to ensure a more or less independent South, but that is a hopeless task—the Saigon regime will not be able to stand on its own for many years to come, if ever. Certainly it will not do so while it can rely on the American presence to prop it up. “Vietnamization” is a sham, .or at least so poor a bet that it does not justify the continued war effort.

True, it might be useful for the U.S. to delay its departure, or make it gradual, even if at the end of two or three years the Saigon government were to fall, because the delay would cushion the blow to U.S. prestige and would give the U.S. time to shore up its positions elsewhere. But that advantage is not worth the cost—in lives, in money, and in domestic discord. Bitterness at home is likely to grow so severe, if the war is continued even at a relatively low level, that the U.S. system itself is likely to be seriously impaired. Besides, the longer the war lasts, the stronger will be the sentiment for “No More Viet Nams”—a new isolationism that will cripple future U.S. policy in the world.

The only way out of the Viet Nam impasse, the argument continues, was demonstrated by Charles de Gaulle, who firmly liquidated the French commitment in Algeria, despite all earlier pledges to the contrary. The result was a massive exodus of Frenchmen from Algeria and a temporary loss of national prestige; eventually, though, De Gaulle extricated France from an overwhelming financial and moral burden. In much the same way, a unilateral withdrawal from Viet Nam would free the U.S. from an impossible situation. A frank acceptance of defeat would clear the air, gain America credit for moral courage, and enable the U.S. to start working on a rational foreign policy beyond Viet Nam. “The extent of the cost of the withdrawal has been vastly overstated,” says former Under Secretary of State George Ball, who feels that other countries do not regard the war as being in the U.S. national interest. They will have more respect for U.S. judgment if it gets out.

That, in essence, is the nonhysterical argument for immediate withdrawal. It is entirely possible that the U.S. may have to accept this argument eventually. But it does have serious flaws, and an abrupt pullout would have serious consequences for Viet Nam, for U.S. influence in the world, and for domestic peace.

What Would Happen to Saigon?

The first casualty of immediate U.S. withdrawal would almost certainly be the Thieu regime. Middle-ranking civil servants and junior army officers, members of the middle class who lack enough money to emigrate, plus a legion of political opportunists, would begin to desert the government as soon as the U.S. pullout became imminent. Saigon already contains varying gradations of neutralists and peace factions. Once it was clear that U.S. forces were leaving, they could gather enough support to topple Thieu—and a new government dominated by neutralists might even insist that the American army, which would then be an unwanted presence, speed its departure. Various parties would no doubt make their own private deals with the enemy.

It is possible that powerful regional commanders like General Ngo Quang Truong of the ARVN 1st Division might turn into the equivalent of feudal warlords, carving out fiefdoms of their own. The staunchest antiCommunists, like Nguyen Cao Ky, might well fight on, backed primarily by French-trained senior army officers and Catholic refugees from the North. They could perhaps hold out for a time in scattered enclaves. In the end, though, the Communists would almost certainly gobble up the countryside piece by piece and destroy every last area of resistance. They could then reunite the country on their terms, although it is equally possible that they would allow a nominally independent but Communist-dominated South Viet Nam to exist for quite a while.

A lot of war-weary Americans have reached the point where they are no longer troubled by the prospect of a neutralist regime in Saigon dominated by the Communists or even an all-Communist Viet Nam. Two major points remain troublesome, however: the fate of non-Communist Vietnamese who have relied on the U.S. and the repercussions elsewhere in Asia.

After more than 20 years of warfare, the Communists would not be likely to take a charitable view of their stubborn opponents. Survivors of the war who were active in the Saigon regime would be in clear danger. How much danger is a matter of speculation. Pessimistic observers, like Columnist Joseph Alsop—a frequent visitor to South Viet Nam and still a hawk—believe the victims of execution could number as many as 1,500,000. After the Communists came to power in the North in 1954, they slaughtered countless thousands of peasants in a misdirected program of land redistribution. During last year’s Tet offensive, the Communists executed at least 3,000 noncombatants, including women and children, when they occupied Hue.

On the other hand, Senator George McGovern, after talking with N.L.F. representatives in Paris, thought they were interested in avoiding reprisals in order to unify the country. “I would be willing to make a small bet,” adds former Assistant Secretary of State Roger Hilsman, “that the official Viet Cong position will be no retribution.” Hilsman also notes that the Communists already have the resources to undertake a campaign of terrorism within areas occupied by the South Vietnamese government any time they want to do so. It is true that if they expect to get outside aid, which they will sorely need, the Vietnamese Communists would have to refrain from offending world opinion by ill treatment of the defeated. At the very least, the U.S. would have a moral responsibility to try to find asylum for any Vietnamese who seek it, though how is another question. It obviously could not be done while a non-Communist government is in power in Saigon; arranging it later, presumably under some international supervision, would be immensely difficult.

What Would Happen in Asia?

The basic justification of the U.S. effort has been the so-called “domino theory”: that is, if South Viet Nam goes Communist, so will many other nations of Southeast Asia, and a major shift in the balance of power will have taken place. This mechanical notion of inevitable collapse has been widely disputed as (in the words of George Ball) “one of those cliches that get in the way of thought.” Nonetheless, immediate withdrawal is bound to have what Harvard Sinologist James C. Thomson Jr., now a critic of the war, calls a “ripple effect.” Those ripples would be felt primarily in Laos and Cambodia. Conceivably, Communist Viet Nam might maintain these two fragile entities in their present form as buffer states. Cambodia’s chief of state, Prince Sihanouk, an eccentric but nimble and popular ruler, has stayed in power by maintaining an adroit neutrality; he might be able to survive by continuing the same policy. Laos, however, would probably be occupied by the Communists and Cambodia at least subjected to their firm domination.

Thailand, though it would undoubtedly come under mounting pressure, would probably manage to maintain its independence (partly depending on how much military support the U.S. would be willing or able to continue). Burma and Malaysia might be subject to a rising tempo of insurgent activity, while North Korea’s belligerent Kim II Sung, who has promised to reunify Korea by early 1971, might be tempted to try it. On the other hand, it is conceivable that total U.S. withdrawal from Viet Nam might allay the apprehensions of Hanoi and Peking and actually lead to a curtailment of guerrilla activity elsewhere in Asia. On this question, no one can answer with assurance.

What About World Opinion?

According to Sir Robert Thompson, who guided Britain’s successful twelve-year war against the Communist guerrillas in Malaya, an immediate withdrawal by the U.S. would lead to “drastic realignments of policy, certainly in Southeast Asia, probably in Africa, and possibly even in Latin America.” Among America’s stauncher allies in the Far East, the Nationalist Chinese would be aghast, the South Koreans distressed and the Japanese politely uncomfortable; all three nations are eager to see the end, but a hasty retreat would give them cause to worry about the validity of U.S. promises. On the other hand, the U.S. will presumably maintain enough air and sea power in the Pacific, even after a Viet Nam withdrawal, for present diplomatic arrangements with these allies not to be unraveled totally.

Many in Britain and France would greet a U.S. decision to quit the war with a sense of “I told you so” satisfaction. But it is certainly not in the interest of America’s European allies to see the U.S. humiliated and seriously weakened. There would be troubled questions about whether the U.S. would live up to its contractual defense commitments elsewhere. Many Germans, for example, feel that if the U.S. fails to hold South Viet Nam, as it once promised, it might also fail to come to the rescue of Berlin, as it has also promised. Actually, the fundamental strategic importance of Berlin is much greater, and the U.S. commitment there is a much older one. Nevertheless it was to defend Viet Nam that the U.S. went to war, and if it “bugs out” there, a lot of Germans—and others—would be understandably nervous.

The Soviet Union has suggested that American withdrawal would greatly improve U.S.-Russian relations. Says Yuri Arbatov, of the Soviet Academy of Science’s Institute of American Studies, Russia’s leading America watcher: “I feel that the U.S. is a strong enough country to undertake such a step. Of course, it would hardly be seen as a U.S. victory, but it would be interpreted as an act of political wisdom and boldness.” The Russians indicate that while U.S. withdrawal is not a precondition for starting disarmament talks, it would certainly help.

In Asia, the Russians would undoubtedly use the U.S. pull-out to build up their own position against the Chinese. They would probably try to extend their influence through economic aid and diplomacy rather than by subsidizing further guerrilla wars. On the other hand, Moscow (or some factions in Moscow) might well be encouraged by American withdrawal to probe for other U.S. weaknesses, as it did when it installed the missiles in Cuba. American will could be quickly put to the test in the Middle East, among other trouble spots.

China would be relieved that a massive U.S. military presence so close to its borders had retreated, and would doubtless gloat over the defeat of what it likes to call the “paper tiger.” Part of the considerable aid that China has been giving to Viet Nam might be shifted to domestic projects or to insurgents who are making trouble for other Asian nations. Possibly, China would heat up the pressure again on Taiwan. But most signs are that China, with all its domestic troubles, would not be likely to indulge in foreign adventures. For the time being at least, one severe restraint on any expansionist ambitions is Peking’s fierce quarrel with Russia over disputed territories in central Asia.

What of the American Reaction?

At home, after the first shock—and relief—reaction would depend to a large extent on what the victorious Communists did. If they followed their takeover with a bloodbath and then began to infiltrate neighboring countries like Thailand and Malaysia, the U.S. mood might quickly turn ugly. There would be cries of “Who lost Southeast Asia?” as there once were of “Who lost China?” And, more bitter than the China question (for the U.S. did not fight there): “Who betrayed our boys?” The forces that had argued for withdrawal might well be the victims of harsh political attacks.

At the same time, a mood of disillusionment might overtake the country and prompt a “Fortress America” spirit of isolationism. That prospect worries the non-Communist nations of Asia more than lingering “domino” fears. It is a moot question whether discord and bitterness over withdrawal would be greater than over continued war—and what true presidential leadership could do to soften the inevitable shocks of either course.

What Are the Alternatives?

All things considered, an immediate, unilateral withdrawal of U.S. troops that would leave South Viet Nam to its fate is an inadequate, emotional solution to a complex and tragic problem. What, then, are the alternatives? The harsh truth is that there are few available to President Nixon. It is still conceivable—but barely—that Hanoi would agree to a ceasefire, followed by a mutual withdrawal of military forces. Any political settlement that would come after this truce, however, would surely require N.L.F. participation in the government of South Viet Nam; that compromise decision would have to be forced upon the Saigon regime —a difficult and perhaps impossible task. In the absence of any signals from Hanoi, the only other plausible course is gradual, orderly withdrawal, accompanied by “Vietnamizing” of the war. The pace of the troop withdrawals so far set by the President should be speeded up. But they would probably have to be spread over two years, with some U.S. logistical support perhaps continuing longer, during which time 1) the Saigon government could be given a chance, however slim, of standing alone, and 2) the U.S. could shore up positions elsewhere in Asia, mostly through economic and diplomatic efforts. This would in fact mean that the U.S. would pull out by a certain time, regardless of the chances of the Saigon regime to survive—although the U.S. would not say so officially.

Would a year or two more or less really make a significant difference? Most of the evidence suggests that it would. The speed and style of U.S. withdrawal are more than matters of face-saving. Asia has already accepted the fact that the U.S. cannot hold on to South Viet Nam. But if the U.S. showed its ability to withdraw in a measured way without hasty abandonment of South Viet Nam, Asian nations (and others) should see it as a sign that the U.S. remains a power with a sense of responsibility and constancy.

Is Communism Inevitable?

Gradual withdrawal would occur against Asian perspectives that are by no means all bleak or pointing inevitably to Communism. Much of the rationale for making the stand in Viet Nam was to curb Communist Chinese expansion. Partly because of U.S. resistance, that expansion has been halted. China’s influence on the rest of Asia has been decidedly weakened, though this is largely because of the disastrous internal paroxysms of the Cultural Revolution. Devout Communist that he is, North Korea’s Kim II Sung takes no orders from China while he is perfectly willing to accept its material aid. There is reason to hope that a Communist Viet Nam would also show considerable independence of her giant neighbor; it has in the past. Thus, Communist power in Asia would probably remain divided.

Even if South Viet Nam, Laos and Cambodia fall into the Communist orbit, a case can be made that the cause of democracy and freedom in Asia is considerably stronger than it was ten years ago. Japan, Taiwan, South Korea, Thailand, Singapore and Malaysia have all enjoyed an annual economic growth rate of 8% or more; with the possible exception of Malaysia, these nations have also become more politically stable, while Indonesia, which once threatened to become a Peking satellite, has become aggressively anti-Communist since the overthrow of Sukarno. It may be that the U.S. presence in Viet Nam bought time for these states to put their own affairs in order and become more resistant to subversion because of their greater internal cohesion.

A careful U.S. withdrawal from Viet Nam might well stimulate Asian nations to take some belated measures to shore up their own defenses. Because of Britain’s announcement that it would withdraw most of its forces from Southeast Asia in 1971, Singapore and Malaysia were inspired to end their political feuding and cooperate on joint air defense. Similarly, Malaysia and Indonesia, which almost came to war over territory in Borneo, have combined their forces to fight Communist insurgents in that same area. The Malaysians are also working with the Thais to root out the terrorists on both sides of their common border.

The Future U.S. Role

A diminishing role for the U.S. in Asia would place more responsibility on the region’s wealthiest nation, Japan. Although an American withdrawal from the war does not mean that the U.S. would cease to be a Pacific power, Japan would inevitably have to make more of an effort for its own security and self-defense. Premier Eisaku Sato has acknowledged that Japan must pay more attention to its own military responsibilities after it regains sovereignty over Okinawa, thereby expanding its frontier 400 miles southward to embrace 1,000,000 more citizens. “Regarding the problem of Asian security,” said Sato in a speech last month, “it is Japan that is gradually going to play the leading role, while the U.S. will be cooperating from the sidelines.”

In an article written for Foreign Affairs in 1967, Richard Nixon emphasized that U.S. policy must be “exercised with restraint, with respect for our partners and with a sophisticated discretion that ensures a genuinely Asian idiom and Asian origin for whatever new Asian institutions are developed. In a design for Asia’s future, there is no room for heavy-handed American pressures; there is need for subtle encouragement of the kind of Asian initiatives that help bring the design to reality. The West has offered both idealism and example, but the idealism has often been unconvincing and the example non-idiomatic. However, an industrialized Japan demonstrates the economically possible in Asian terms, while an advancing Asia tied into a Pacific community offers a bridge to the underdeveloped elsewhere.”

If the U.S. were to disengage itself with some care and dignity from the war, it would have greater freedom to assist in the economic development of what Singapore’s Foreign Minister Sinnathamby Rajaratnam calls the “post-Western phase” of Asian history. While most leaders in non-Communist Asia welcome U.S. military aid to combat subversion, they also want U.S. help in building up such regional organizations as the Asian Development Bank and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations. In their view, one lesson of Viet Nam is that political stability is guaranteed not solely by military might but by economic and political progress as well. Says Indonesian Foreign Minister Adam Malik: “I look at half a million troops in Viet Nam with all that modern equipment, and still you could not stop the Communists. The answer for us is to reshape our societies and introduce a new life with more promise for our people.”

In sum, gradual U.S. disengagement could ease the U.S. into a new period of a more subtle, more imaginative Asian policy. It could also ameliorate the shock of the reverse that the U.S. has unquestionably suffered in Viet Nam. These are limited and intangible goals; to continue sacrificing lives and money for them a hard task indeed. But if these goals are achieved, they may at least help justify the sacrifices in lives and money already made during the long war.

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