Friday, Aug. 08, 1969
NIXON'S SOBERING MESSAGE TO ASIA
WHEREVER Richard Nixon went in Asia last week, the U.S. moon landing formed an impressive backdrop for his visit. The President was not shy about capitalizing on the feat, even promising bits of moon rock to his hosts. One Far Eastern Foreign Minister, in fact, described Nixon's approach on the Asian tour as "Apollo diplomacy." Whether that was fair or not, Nixon certainly moved with space-age speed, visiting seven countries in as many days. His whirlwind schedule and the resulting mood of if-it's-Tuesday-this-must-be-Djakarta were not very conducive to thoughtful consultations. Still, at a time when American prestige was riding high around the world, Nixon had come to Asia for more than a token visit.
As he carefully explained in Guam before jetting on to Manila, he intended to signal a reduction in the American military commitment to Asia. Above all, Nixon wants no more Viet Nams, and he has formulated new guidelines for U.S. policy designed to prevent any recurrence. His proposal: a "lower profile" for the U.S. in Asia (see following story). At stop after stop, Nixon reiterated what he told Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos: "Peace in Asia cannot come from the U.S. It must come from Asia. The people of Asia, the governments of Asia--they are the ones who must lead the way."
Extraordinary Boast. Sometimes, however, Nixon's dictum became obscured in an ambiguity that, however appropriate to the Orient, was ill suited for communicating his message. While he repeatedly emphasized that local efforts must have the primary role in putting down local subversion and revolution, he forgot his own doctrine in Bangkok, when he declared: "The U.S. will stand proudly with Thailand against those who might threaten it from abroad or from within." Although Nixon has begun to withdraw U.S. troops from Viet Nam in what is obviously an effort to cut losses and repair mistakes, he made an extraordinary statement. "In this dreary, difficult war," he said, "I think history will record that this may have been one of America's finest hours, because we took on a difficult task and succeeded." Viet Nam has unquestionably been a difficult task, but to say that the U.S. succeeded there --or to use a phrase that equates the U.S. performance with Britain's fight for survival in 1940--seemed almost grotesquely inappropriate.
Nixon seemed to be saying different things to different audiences. True, his comments were aimed at a variety of listeners, both face to face and far away: the Vietnamese and the Thais are still deeply involved in the outcome of a shooting war; others in Asia--and in the U.S.--are already looking beyond the end of that war; the North Vietnamese and Chinese Communists raptly read the tea leaves of presidential pronouncements for clues to the seriousness of the U.S. resolve. Yet precisely because what the U.S. President says in one place is instantly replayed in many others, consistency becomes not a hobgoblin but a necessity in the sober conduct of foreign affairs.
Of course, a U.S. President would be foolish to declare a friendly Asian nation beyond the pale of American protection; Korea is not that distant a memory. The U.S. can also help an ally to oppose insurgency without committing American troops to the action. What Nixon was saying, aides explained, is that the U.S. might supply a menaced friend with instructors and equipment, but not combat forces. Yet if a nation whose welfare the U.S. valued were genuinely endangered from the outside--say by a large-scale Chinese invasion or a nuclear threat--the U.S. could not be expected to look away.
Difference in Nuance. This is hardly a new policy. As long ago as the Open Door policy of the turn of the century, the U.S. conceived of its interest as the prevention of any one power's domination of Asia. Nor is it new even in terms of the 1960s; it is a reversion to the pre-1965 approach of attempting to avoid involvement in civil strife. The Johnson Administration justified large-scale intervention in Viet Nam on the basis of North Viet Nam's actions. No one in the White House then dared speak of the conflict as a civil war. Presumably, Nixon would henceforth be considerably more reluctant to reach a decision that would require sending in U.S. troops. Between what Lyndon Johnson did in 1965 and what Nixon would have done then by applying his present criteria, a White House expert explains, "there might have been a considerable difference in nuance and general intent."
Such distinctions may be difficult to draw in practice, but the Administration now says that it intends to do so. Said one Administration foreign affairs analyst: "In the past, it was an American responsibility to see that wars of national liberation did not succeed; we are saying now that it is principally a local responsibility." Sometimes the U.S. has acted as though defending a far-off land were more important to the U.S. than to that country itself.
Frangipani Blossoms. As President Nixon sought to convey a new shading of American policy to the leaders of Southeast Asia last week, his passage was marked by delicate Eastern ceremonial. In Manila there was an embroidered barong tagalog for him to wear; in Djakarta, white-costumed Javanese dancers strewed frangipani blossoms in the presidential path.
Despite the ceremony, the shading came through. Nixon won full marks from Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos for his candor in explaining that the U.S. would maintain a presence in Southeast Asia while pressing Asians to take up the burden of their own defense. "Before you came," Marcos told Nixon, "we dreaded the possibility that the U.S. was going to abandon Asia completely, or on the other extreme that there might again be the policy of colonial dominance over the Asian countries." Philippine leaders have managed to contain the dissident Huks with government troops, and the country is geographically safe from anything but a massive foreign invasion by sea. As he did elsewhere, President Nixon urged on Marcos the notion of collective security for the Far East--measures bolstered, but not actively led, by the U.S.
Nixon became the first U.S. President to visit Indonesia, the sprawling island chain whose 112 million people make up nearly half the population of Southeast Asia. Indonesians gave him credit for not trying to upset their neutral status, re-established by General Suharto once the mercurial Sukarno was overthrown in 1967. Nixon wants the U.S. to participate in Indonesia's economic development, but he did not urge any shift in foreign policy. "We respect you as a proud and independent nation," he said in Djakarta. "It is on the basis of common values and ideals and not on the basis of alliance or alignment that my country seeks to cooperate with the Indonesian republic."
O.K. for a Swim. Unlike Indonesia, Thailand, where Nixon stopped next, is deeply committed to the U.S. Thai troops are fighting in South Viet Nam, and Thailand has become a massive base for U.S. aircraft used in Viet Nam. Many Thais are beginning to wonder how they are going to explain all those American airbases to the North Viet namese when the time comes to make friends with the other side.
The Thais face growing guerrilla insurgency in the northern and northeastern provinces, but they have not yet asked for U.S. troops to help; nor would the Thais object to a reduction in the number of U.S. servicemen stationed on their soil. There are now 50,000, barely fewer than are in South Korea. "Thailand is a country that stands on its own two feet," said Nixon as he urged the Thais to make new domestic reforms. Foreign Minister Thanat Kho-man took the cue from his guest. "It is an absolute necessity for Thailand to have many different measures to oppose the danger of aggression by Asian Communist countries," he said. "The most practical method is to develop our country and make it as progressive and prosperous as possible."
Bearing the President, U.S. Ambassador Ellsworth Bunker and General Creighton Abrams to South Viet Nam, Nixon's big Boeing soared directly o^eff Saigon's Independence Palace--normally completely off limits to aircraft--on its approach to Tan Son Nhut airbase. It was Nixon's first visit to Viet Nam as President (he had been there five times before). He insisted on going to Saigon rather than Cam Ranh Bay, the huge U.S. supply base that was Lyndon Johnson's touchdown spot on two trips to South Viet Nam. "Cam Ranh Bay doesn't count," he said. "That isn't Viet Nam." In Saigon, he proclaimed: "I believe the record is clear as to which side has gone the extra mile in behalf of peace. Now is the time for the other side to respond."
While Mrs. Nixon left to visit an
Army field hospital, Nixon choppered twelve miles north to Di An, a 1st Infantry Division base camp. The security precautions were overwhelming: all of the Vietnamese base personnel were sent home four hours before Nixon arrived, and swarms of helicopter gunships buzzed warily overhead. Said one helicopter crewman: "If a stray dog had moved, he wouldn't have had a chance." The President bantered with some of the men about home towns and ball teams; he invited a soldier from San Clemente, Calif., to come for a swim at the new Nixon summer White House there. "Tell the Secret Service men I said it's O.K.," the President suggested.
After 51 hours in Viet Nam, he was airborne again. He seemed genuinely moved by his meeting with the troops. "They make tears come to your eyes," he said. "There's a strength out there. If the political leadership can equal these men, we're going to bring this war to an end on the right basis, and before long." Of the South Vietnamese, he said: "They are going to make it." Saigon, Nixon observed, was not going to become "Ho Chi Minh City."
Crucial Continents. Except for 100DEG-plus heat, Nixon's final two stops in Asia were more routine. India's Indira Gandhi was pleased with the beginning of U.S. troop withdrawals from Viet Nam, but --probably mindful of the running Indian disputes with Pakistan--was doubtful that collective security would be successful for the nations of the Asian periphery. Pakistan's Yahya Khan wanted to buy new arms from the U.S., but Nixon could only tell him that the matter was under review in Washington. The government-lining Pakistan Times rejected collective security as a trap that might embroil the country in big-power conflicts, and announced that the "special" U.S.-Pakistan relationship of the 1950s "cannot be revived." Nixon later reflected that relations between the Indians and the Pakistanis are no better now than they were when he first visited there in 1953, as Vice President of the U.S.
What had Nixon achieved? At best, he prompted his hosts to think seriously about standing more independently in the future. He took care to limit the ceremonial aspects of the trip, but his very presence was highly symbolic. In office less than seven months, he had already toured Europe and Asia. The U.S. still looks out across both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, he was saying, and a new President was clearly marking out his own way of dealing with friends and adversaries on both the troubled overseas continents crucial to U.S. interests.
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