What Lies Ahead for Saigon

BASED on past experience," South Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu declared recently, referring to the 1954 Geneva agreement, "we cannot rely too much on international treaties, for the Communists do not respect them. Nor can we rely too much on the International Control Commission." More pointedly he advised his countrymen: "If a stranger enters your village, shoot him in the head."

Thieu's comments may well prove to be prophetic about the immediate future of South Viet Nam. The cease-fire really marks the beginning of a period of prolonged uncertainty--and perhaps of yet a new stage in the war. Now only an overwhelming effort of good will, it would seem, will permit cooperation between the opposing armed forces and their political cadres, and such an agreement is not in evidence.

When the cease-fire began last weekend, the South Vietnamese had 1,100,000 men under arms. They controlled most of the country's populated areas, including all of its 44 provincial capitals and ten major cities. The Communists claim to control more than 2,500,000 people, or about 14% of South Viet Nam's total population of 17,500,000; in reality the number is probably closer to 500,000. Some intelligence officials believe that Hanoi and the Viet Cong will shift immediately after the cease-fire to widespread but small-scale guerrilla tactics. More likely the Communists will keep guerrilla activity to a minimum until the U.S. withdrawal is completed.

More significant is the number of troops that the North Vietnamese are permitted to leave in South Viet Nam --145,000 by Washington's estimate, 300,000 by Saigon's. "What kind of peace is it," President Thieu demanded recently, "that gives the North Vietnamese the right to keep their troops here?" His pessimistic prediction is that a "next war" will be required to destroy the country's Communist underground. "This war may last six months, one year or two years," he says. "It will decide the up political future of Viet Nam."

If one or both sides want to resume fighting, it is not clear how the combatants can be kept apart. Considering the built-in limitations of the ICC (see box, page 17), the effectiveness of the cease-fire would seem to depend mostly on the spirit of observance by the Vietnamese--a proud, stubborn, subtle people who can quietly nurture hate until the moment of retribution arrives.

In the political struggle within South Viet Nam, it may well be that the "neutral" or "middle" factions will take on greater importance than in the recent past. Such groups as the Cao Dai, portions of the Dai Viet Party, the Buddhists, the progressive Roman Catholics and the Hoa Hao might emerge as viable alternatives to supporters of President Thieu. He bases his hopes for survival on the backing of a coalition composed of conservative Catholics as well as the Thieu-dominated military and civil services, opposed by a manageable minority made up of the Hoa Hao, the Buddhists, the Cao Dais and a few others. Thieu has bitter enemies within the military hierarchy, however, and new alliances within the army could be created quickly--particularly if the Nixon Administration were to hint that its support for Thieu was wavering.

The Paris accord calls for a National Council of National Reconciliation and Concord, composed of the Saigon government, the Provisional Revolutionary Government and South Vietnamese neutrals. Its effectiveness will be limited, if not paralyzed, by the fact that any action it takes must be unanimous. But as Thieu well knows, the council could eventually be transformed into a base for a new "coalition" of Communists and neutrals that could bring him down. In his forthcoming discussions with the P.R.G., Thieu is unlikely to give an inch on any crucial issue.

Partly because of Thieu's cunning political footwork, his position today is very strong--much more so than it was three months ago. He has stayed on working terms with the U.S. while tightening his control over the Saigon government. He has also shown that he can stand up to American pressure, and this in turn has increased his popularity at home. His army is large and well equipped, and is assured of continued U.S. military assistance on a one-for-one replacement basis. He will also have the help of perhaps 5,000 civilian advisers.

But Thieu has to worry not only about the North Vietnamese troops left in the South but about Washington's long-term intentions. The U.S. retains airbases in Thailand, and if the North Vietnamese were to mount another military offensive against South Viet Nam within six or eight months, they would have reason to fear U.S. bombing. But what if the crisis comes in two or three years--perhaps in the form of a coup or a Communist-fed revolt? Would the U.S. take military action to assist Thieu? It seems unlikely.

Other Wars. For this reason, many U.S. officials in Saigon anticipate a gradual increase in anti-Americanism. Some, in fact, believe that Thieu himself has already begun to encourage such a trend. After a recent speech by the President to a group of officer cadets at Dalat, several trainees spread the word that the Americans had conspired to permit Communist infiltration of South Vietnamese cities in the Tet offensive of 1968, that the U.S. was dilatory in delivering air strikes at Quang Tri City during the Communists' 1972 offensive, and that Henry Kissinger had betrayed South Viet Nam in his secret talks with the North Vietnamese. Some diplomats believe that Hanoi may seek to capitalize on South Viet Nam's disenchantment with Washington by strengthening its own U.S. contacts.

There remains, moreover, the unanswered problem of the other wars in Southeast Asia. Last week the Laotian Premier, Prince Souvanna Phouma, predicted that fighting in his country would stop by mid-February. The Cambodian government announced a three-day cease-fire to give the Communists a chance to stop fighting if they wanted to. Cambodian President Lon Nol also made plans to participate in peace talks with the Khmer Rouge Communists and aides of deposed Prince Norodom Sihanouk. The prospects for a lasting peace in Laos and particularly in Cambodia, however, seemed at least as dubious as in South Viet Nam.

The Nixon Administration has been speaking in terms of dedicating $7.5 billion to Indochina's reconstruction over the next five years (including perhaps $2 billion for North Viet Nam). But such talk means little until the conflict ends. "You can't go around building dams while bullets whiz about you," says a State Department official. "What's the point of reconstruction if the battle goes on?"

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