Laos: Ping, Pong & Pang

When the U.S., Russia and Red China agreed in Geneva last month to accept a “neutral” Laos, Washington appeared to have written off the embattled country. The argument: the terrain in Laos is too difficult, the Laotian army too weak for a firm stand against Communism. The real line against the Red guerrillas would be drawn in South Viet Nam. Meanwhile, the best thing to hope for was to keep a neutral Laos cordoned off from Red China or Russia as long as possible. To this end, the famous “three princes” were to form a new, neutral government. This left two facts out of account: the native knack for turning seemingly simple plans into complex situations, and the unwillingness on the part of many Laotians to be neutral as prescribed.

After months of surrealist palavers, the princes finally met last week in the capital city of Vientiane. But the meeting settled nothing, and more than ever the Three Princes recalled, in their operatic futility, the Three Ministers in Puccini’s Turandot —Ping, Pong and Pang.

Phony Money. “Neutralist” Prince Souvanna Phouma and his half brother, Red Prince Souphanouvong, arrived from their headquarters in the Plaine des Jarres. Each was accompanied by a bodyguard: Souphanouvong’s men in faded green outfits and squashed Red Chinese-style caps; Souvanna’s paratroops in camouflage uniforms supplied by the French.

The paratroops were viewed with particular suspicion since on a recent visit to Luangprabang they had flooded the town with $3,000 in phony money, including $200 at the local brothels.

The two princes looked around for the third, pro-Western Prince Boun Oum, but he was brooding at home. Souvanna cheerfully told reporters he would do everything possible to bring about a “definite solution.” Stern-faced Souphanouvong read off a two-page propaganda speech denouncing Boun Oum for “aggravating and complicating the political situation” and took a swipe at the “warmongering activities” of the U.S.

Faultless Prince. After lunch, the princes went off to call on Boun Oum in his villa. Portly Boun Oum was prepared, he said, to accept a Cabinet of 16 members, four to be chosen by himself, four by the Red Prince and eight by Souvanna —but four of Souvanna’s eight must also have Boun Oum’s approval. Further, until Souvanna’s “neutrality is proved,” Boun Oum insisted that he be given the vital ministries of Defense and Interior.

Red Prince Souphanouvong cried, “If you insist on Defense and Interior, we do too. If these are your final terms, we might as well go back to the Plaine des Jarres.” Boun Oum snapped: “There is no need to have a three princes’ meeting. I never want to hear about a three princes’ meeting again.” Souphanouvong got in a proletarian retort: “It’s not my fault I’m a prince. I was born a prince, and I have to live with it.” At a press conference, Boun Oum said: “I’ve told Prince Souvanna Phouma this afternoon that he had neither the confidence of the people nor of the elite of Vientiane. And without confidence you cannot form a government.” Chortling happily, he announced that the meeting of the three princes was finished and that all past agreements were also “outdated and finished.”

Ghost Writer. Hearing such brave anti-Communist talk almost anywhere else in the world, the U.S. should and would have been delighted. But because the State Department — though not necessarily other arms of the U.S. Government — had, in effect, decided that a neutral buffer state would be better than renewed war, Boun Oum’s position caused official U.S. dismay. “Outrageous,” a source close to the U.S. embassy called the anti-Red prince’s action. Ambassador Winthrop Brown was dumfounded, since he had believed Boun Oum was won over to a coalition government. All observers agreed that though the voice was the voice of Boun Oum, the script had been written by tough, anti-Communist General Phoumi Nosavan, the present Defense Minister, who insists that any government headed by Souvanna will swiftly slide into Communism. The U.S. hesitates backing General Phoumi because there is no assurance that his army can win if it comes to fighting and a considerable chance that it might ignominiously lose—as it did last year.

But in Laos even the bitterest of enemies are friends. Next night General Phoumi genially invited both Prince Souvanna Phouma and Red Prince Souphanouvong to a “working dinner” at his freshly painted blue and white residence. As he set off for Phoumi’s place, Souvanna cheerfully told reporters, “Let me get to work, and you may have an agreeable surprise in two or three days.”