A New Horror in Indochina

ALL week long they bobbed and drifted with the slow currents of the Mekong River, a seemingly endless procession of floating death. They appeared singly at first, then in grotesque flotillas of as many as 50 bodies bound together by rope. After days of immersion in the brown waters of the Mekong and exposure to Cambodia's blazing sun, they were barely recognizable, but it was clear that the victims, mostly young men, were Vietnamese. They were slaughtered in what has suddenly turned into Southeast Asia's latest horror: a Cambodian pogrom against the country's 500,000-member Vietnamese minority.

The trail of bodies in the Mekong added a particularly grisly new dimension to the war in Indochina. Other events through the week appeared to presage a widening of that seemingly endless conflict. The new government of Cambodian Premier General Lon Nol, reeling under widespread Communist border attacks, issued a plea to the world for military aid. In South Viet Nam, the Communists intensified their rocket attacks as part of a spring campaign that may peak about May 19, Ho Chi Minh's birthday. For a moment, however, there was the flickering hope of a diplomatic breakthrough in the war: the Soviet Union, reversing a longstanding policy, raised the possibility of convening a new Geneva conference, presumably like the ones that twice before have drafted plans for neutralizing Southeast Asia.

Government Hostages. The campaign against Vietnamese in Cambodia has been intensifying since the ouster of Prince Norodom Sihanouk five weeks ago. Recently, thousands of Vietnamese have been rounded up by Cambodian authorities and herded into concentration camps. Ostensibly, the government's policy was a security precaution against deepening infiltration by some 40,000 Vietnamese Communist troops, who have staged occasional attacks on civilians as well as on soldiers. Especially in border areas, the government is apparently using the prisoners as hostages, in the hope of warding off attacks by Viet Cong or North Vietnamese troops. Two weeks ago, the sound of Communist gunfire prompted Cambodian troops to slaughter 90 prisoners in a camp at Prasaut. Late last week, near an area of heavy fighting in Takeo province, about 50 miles south of Phnom-Penh, Cambodian soldiers opened fire on more than 200 Vietnamese held prisoner at another camp (see box, page 41).

The grisly flotsam in the Mekong testified to more of the same kind of killing. All of the victims had been shot by automatic gunfire at point-blank range, and many had their hands tied behind their backs. By conservative estimate, several hundred bodies were counted floating southward on the river. It was chillingly reminiscent of the slaughter of Communists in Indonesia in the mid-1960s, when anywhere from 200,000 to 500,000 perished. The regime denied any involvement, speculating feebly that the Vietnamese had been killed in "boat sinkings." The fact is that Cambodia's new leaders have encouraged a hate campaign against the Vietnamese, and they are well aware that it has proved one of their few popular moves. The question remains whether they can maintain control of it.

Enmity between Cambodians and Vietnamese dates from well before the 12th century, when the fabled temples at Angkor were completed. Some of the carvings there depict battles between the Khmers of ancient Cambodia and the Annamese, forebears of present-day Vietnamese. In modern Cambodia, the Vietnamese and Chinese minorities dominate commerce and light industry, giving them economic clout that the majority of Cambodians sharply resent.

River Trap. The government's need to boost morale by any means possible is accentuated by its military failures. Sihanouk had allowed the Communists more or less a free run in Cambodia's border provinces. The Lon Nol government seized power with the announced purpose of finally ridding the nation of the Vietnamese intruders. Today, however, the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong control perhaps twice as much Cambodian territory as they did a month ago. Minister of Information Trinh Hoanh admits uncomfortably: "Before, the Communists weren't occupying our territory. They'd come in and we'd chase them out. Now they come in and they stay."

Seeking to consolidate authority in their all-important sanctuaries leading to South Viet Nam, Communist forces last week closed in on two key border cities. In the "parrot's beak" area jutting into South Viet Nam, they surrounded Svay Rieng Ville on three sides. Moreover, they moved to within striking distance of the Mekong River ferry linking Svay Rieng with Phnom-Penh, leading some observers to speculate that they hoped to lure a large defense force across the river and trap it there. To the south, a combined force of North Vietnamese and Viet Cong troops advanced on the provincial capital of Takeo. During one of its fiercest battles against seasoned Communist troops so far, the inexperienced Cambodian army lost 150 men killed or missing in 48 hours.

Cambodia's convulsions had special impact on South Viet Nam. Some 1,500 Vietnamese flowed into South Viet Nam to escape both the fighting and the hate campaign. Meanwhile, as many as 2,000 South Vietnamese troops streamed across the border in the other direction to aid Cambodian forces in harassing Communist sanctuaries.

Nixon Doctrine. The U.S. insists that it has not taken part in the ground fighting in Cambodia. Nevertheless, Washington now faces an uncomfortable military decision. Taking to national radio, Premier Lon Nol announced that "the gravity of the present situation" made it necessary for Cambodia "to accept all unconditional foreign aid, wherever it may come from." Next day an itemized list of needed hardware was handed to U.S. Ambassador Lloyd Rives. Even though troop support was not even mentioned, the Nixon Administration is understandably chary of committing further military aid of any kind to Southeast Asia. For one thing, the President is scheduled to appear on nationwide television this week to announce a new cut in the U.S. forces, now down to 429,000 men. For another, he has already been warned by several prominent U.S. legislators against drawing the U.S. into propping up another Asian government of dubious strength. Still, Cambodia--even more than South Viet Nam--is fighting a foreign aggressor equipped by outside powers. As a high U.S. diplomat in Phnom-Penh put it: "If Cambodia doesn't qualify for aid under the Nixon Doctrine, who does?"

Cambodia needs all the help it can get. The 45,000-man army has enough supplies for less than two months. Its troops are transported on commandeered buses and trucks. Should the U.S. decide to help at all, it may do so by offering financial aid so that Cambodia can go shopping on the international arms market.

Regional Approach. For a short while, it seemed as if the U.S. dilemma over Cambodia might be eased by an unexpected demarche that occurred last week at the United Nations. Answering questions at a news conference, the Soviet Union's chief delegate Yakov Malik declared that "only a new Geneva conference could bring a new solution" to Southeast Asia. Was Malik proposing a reconvening of the 1954 and 1962 Geneva negotiations? If so, the U.S. would suddenly have a promising third route--apart from the stonewalled Paris peace talks and the slow-moving Vietnamization program--to settle the war. The U.S. has recently urged the 14 signatories of the 1962 Geneva Pact to cooperate in a new effort to ensure the neutrality of Laos. At week's end, Malik dashed U.S. hopes by declaring that a reconvening of the Geneva conference would be "unrealistic."

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