The following article by Noam Chomsky appeared in:
 
     Z Magazine, September 1992
 
and is reprinted here with the magazine's permission.
 
Z is an independent, progressive monthly magazine of critical
thinking on  political, cultural,  social, and economic life in 
the United States.  It sees the racial, sexual, class, and
political dimensions of  personal life as fundamental to
understanding and improving contemporary circumstances; and it
aims to assist activist efforts to attain a better future.
 
Z Magazine is published monthly except on issue for July/August
by the Institute for Social and Cultural Communications. 
Subscriptions: One Year $25; Two Years $40; Three Years $55;
Canada and Mexico $40/year; students/low income $18/yr; foreign
(surface) $50.  Write to: Z Magazine, 150 W Canton St., Boston MA
02118, (617)236-5878, Fax: (617) 247-3179.
 
Each issue of the magazine is about 100 pages with no
advertisements.
 
=================================================================
 
Vain Hopes, False Dreams (Parts 1 to 7)
========================
 
In the July/August issue of _Z_, several articles dealt with
the deterioration of conditions of life in American society and
the loss of hope, trust, or even expectations for the political
system.  Reviewing some of these all-too-obvious elements of the
current scene, I wrote that "The public is not unaware of what is
happening, though with the success of the policies of isolation
and breakdown of organizational structure, the response is
erratic and dangerous: faith in ridiculous billionaire saviors
who are little more than `blank slates' on which one can write
one's favorite dreams, myths of past innocence and noble leaders,
conspiracy cults..., unfocused skepticism and disillusionment --
a mixture that has not had happy consequences in the past."
 
At times of general malaise and social breakdown, it is not
uncommon for millenarian movements to arise to replace lost hopes
by idle dreams: dreams of a savior who will lead us from bondage,
or of the return of the great ships with their bounty, as in the
cargo cults of South Sea islanders.  Some may yearn for a lost
golden age, or succumb to the blandishments of the new Messiahs
who come to the fore at such moments.  Those more cognizant of
the institutional causes of discontent may be attracted to an
image of hope destroyed by dark and powerful forces that stole
from us the leader who sought a better future.  The temptation to
seek solace, or salvation, is particularly strong when the means
to become engaged in a constructive way in determining one's fate
have largely dissolved and disappeared.
 
The billionaire savior has retreated from the scene.  But it is
surely striking that his challenge to the one-party, two-faction
system of business rule, with its broad popular appeal, should
have coincided so closely with the revival of fascination with
tales of intrigue about Camelot lost.  The audiences differ, but
the JFK-Perot enthusiasms are similar enough to raise the
question whether the imagery of the leader maliciously stolen
from us has more of a claim to reality than the promise of the
figure who suddenly appeared, quickly to fade away.  The question
is an important one, particularly to the left (broadly
construed), which has devoted much of its valuable energy and
resources to the Kennedy revival at a time when it has been
successfully removed from the political arena, along with the
large majority of the public that is its natural constituency.
 
The core issue in the current Kennedy revival is the claim that
JFK intended to withdraw from Vietnam, a fact suppressed by the
media; and was assassinated for that reason, it is prominently
charged.  Some allege further that Kennedy was intent on
destroying the CIA, dismantling the military-industrial complex,
ending the Cold War, and opening an era of development and
freedom for Latin America, among other forms of class treachery
that led to his downfall.  This 1991-2 drama proceeded at several
levels, from cinema to scholarship, engaging some of the
best-known Kennedy intellectuals as well as substantial segments
of the popular movements that in large part grew from opposition
to the Vietnam war.  Much as they differ on parts of the picture
and other issues, there is a shared belief across this spectrum
that history changed course dramatically when Kennedy was
assassinated in November 1963, an event that casts a grim shadow
over all that followed.
 
It is also striking that the withdrawal thesis, which is at the
heart of the Camelot revival of 1991-2, gained its prominence
just on the 30th anniversary of Kennedy's steps to escalate the
Indochina conflict from international terrorism to outright
aggression.  The anniversary of Kennedy's war against the rural
society of South Vietnam passed virtually without notice, as the
country mused over the evil nature of the Japanese, who had so
signally failed to plead for forgiveness on the 50th anniversary
of their attack on a military base in a US colony that had been
stolen from its inhabitants, by force and guile, just 50 years
earlier.
 
There are several sources of evidence that bear on the withdrawal
thesis: (1) The historical facts; (2) the record of public
statements; (3) the internal planning record; (4) the memoirs and
other reports of Kennedy insiders.  In each category, the
material is substantial.  The record of internal deliberations,
in particular, has been available far beyond the norm since the
release of two editions of the _Pentagon Papers_ (_PP_).  The
recent publication of thousands of pages of documents in the
official State Department history provides a wealth of additional
material on the years of the presidential transition, 1963-4,
which are of crucial significance for evaluating the thesis that
many have found so compelling.  What follows is an excerpt from a
much longer review of the four categories of evidence in a
broader context (_Year 501_, South End, forthcoming).
 
While history never permits anything like definitive conclusions,
in this case, the richness of the record, and its consistency,
permit some unusually confident judgments.  In my opinion, the
record is inconsistent with the withdrawal thesis throughout, and
supports a different conclusion.  In brief, basic policy towards
Indochina developed within a framework of North-South/East-West
relations that Kennedy did not challenge, and remained constant
in essentials: disentanglement from an unpopular and costly
venture as soon as possible, but _after_ victory was assured
(by the end, with increasing doubt that US client regimes could
be sustained).  Tactics were modified with changing circumstances
and perceptions.  Changes of Administration, including the
Kennedy assassination, had no large-scale effect on policy, and
not even any great effect on tactics, when account is taken of
the objective situation and how it was perceived.
 
1. Kennedy's War
----------------
 
When JFK took over in 1961, the US client regimes faced collapse
in both Laos and Vietnam, for the same reason in both countries:
The US-imposed regimes could not compete politically with the
well-organized popular opposition, a fact recognized on all
sides.  Kennedy accepted a diplomatic settlement in Laos (at
least on paper), but chose to escalate in Vietnam, where he
ordered the deployment of Air Force and Helicopter Units, along
with napalm, defoliation, and crop destruction.  US military
personnel were sharply increased and deployed at battalion level,
where they were "beginning to participate more directly in
advising Vietnamese unit commanders in the planning and execution
of military operations plans" (_PP_).  Kennedy's war far
surpassed the French war at its peak in helicopters and aerial
fire power.  As for personnel, France had 20,000 nationals
fighting in all of Indochina in 1949 (the US force level reached
16,700 under JFK), increasing to 57,000 at the peak.
 
As military operations intensified, concerns arose over the
effects of "indiscriminate firepower" and reports "that
indiscriminate bombing in the countryside is forcing innocent or
wavering peasants toward the Viet Cong" (_PP_).  Kennedy's more
dovish advisers, notably Roger Hilsman, preferred
counterintersurgency operations.  The favored method was to drive
several million peasants into concentration camps where,
surrounded by barbed wire and troops, they would have a "free
choice" between the US client regime (GVN) and the Viet Cong.
The effort failed, Hilsman later concluded, because it was never
possible to eliminate the political opposition entirely.  Other
problems arose when the wrong village was bombed, or when bombing
and defoliation alienated the peasants whose hearts and minds
were to be won from the enemy whom they supported.
 
Kennedy's war was no secret.  In March 1962, US officials
announced that US pilots were engaged in combat missions (bombing
and strafing).  In October, a front-page story in the _New York
Times_ reported that "in 30 percent of all the combat missions
flown in Vietnamese Air Force planes, Americans are at the
controls," though "national insignia have been erased from many
aircraft...to avoid the thorny international problems involved."
The press reported further that US Army fliers and gunners were
taking the military initiative against southern guerrillas, using
helicopters with more firepower than any World War II fighter
plane as an offensive weapon.  Armed helicopters were regularly
supporting operations of the Saigon army (ARVN).  The brutal
character of Kennedy's war was also no secret, from the outset.
 
The specialist literature, notably province studies, generally
agrees that the US-imposed regime had no legitimacy in the
countryside, where 80% of the population lived (and little enough
in the urban areas), that only force could compensate for this
lack, and that by 1965 the VC had won the war in much of the
country, with little external support.
 
At first, JFK's 1961-2 aggression appeared to be a grand success:
by July 1962, "the prospects looked bright" and "to many the end
of the insurgency seemed in sight." The US leadership in Vietnam
and Washington "was confident and cautiously optimistic," and "In
some quarters, even a measure of euphoria obtained" (_PP_).
 
In his semi-official history of Kennedy's presidency, Arthur
Schlesinger observes that by the end of 1961, "The President
unquestionably felt that an American retreat in Asia might upset
the whole world balance" (_A Thousand Days_, 1965).  "The
result in 1962 was to place the main emphasis on the military
effort" in South Vietnam.  The "encouraging effects" of the
escalation enabled Kennedy to report in his January 1963 State of
the Union message that "The spearpoint of aggression has been
blunted in South Vietnam." In Schlesinger's own words: "1962 had
not been a bad year:...aggression checked in Vietnam."
 
Recall that Kennedy and his historian-associate are describing
the year 1962, when Kennedy escalated from extreme terrorism to
outright aggression.
 
Turning briefly to the second category of evidence, public
statements, we find that Schlesinger's report of the President's
feelings is well-confirmed.  JFK regularly stressed the enormous
stakes involved, which made any thought of withdrawal
unacceptable.  To the end, his public position was that we must
"win the war" and not "just go home and leave the world to those
who are our enemies." We must ensure that "the assault from the
inside, and which is manipulated from the North, is ended"
(Sept., Nov. 1963).  Anything less would lead to the loss of
Southeast Asia, with repercussions extending far beyond.  As the
"watchman on the walls of world freedom," he intended to tell his
Dallas audience on Nov. 22, the US had to undertake tasks that
were "painful, risky and costly, as is true in Southeast Asia
today.  But we dare not weary of the task." The internal record,
to which we turn next, shows that he adopted the same stance in
his (limited) involvement in planning.
 
2. JFK and Withdrawal: the Early Plans
--------------------------------------
 
The optimistic mid-1962 assessment led Secretary of Defense
Robert McNamara, the primary war manager for Kennedy and Johnson,
to initiate planning for the withdrawal of US forces from
Vietnam, leaving to the client regime the dirty work of cleaning
up the remnants.  Kennedy and McNamara recognized that domestic
support for the war was thin, and that problems might arise if it
were to persist too long.  Similarly, in November 1967, General
Westmoreland announced that with victory imminent, US troops
could begin to withdraw in 1969 (as happened, though under
circumstances that he did not anticipate); that recommendation
does not show that he was a secret dove.  Advocacy of withdrawal
after assurance of victory was not a controversial stand.
 
In contrast, withdrawal _without victory_ would have been
highly controversial.  That position received scant support until
well after the Tet offensive of January 1968, when corporate and
political elites determined that the operation should be
liquidated, in large part because of the social costs of protest.
 
The question to be considered, then, is whether JFK, despite his
1961-2 escalation and his militant public stand, planned to
withdraw _without_ victory, a plan aborted by the
assassination, which cleared the way for Lyndon Johnson and his
fellow-warmongers to bring on a major war.  If so, one may
inquire further into whether this was a factor in the
assassination.
 
The withdrawal decisions were reported at once in the press with
fair accuracy, and the basic facts about the internal
deliberations lying behind them became known 20 years ago when
the _Pentagon Papers_ appeared.  In July 1962, the analyst
writes, "At the behest of the President, the Secretary of Defense
undertook to reexamine the situation [in Vietnam] and address
himself to its future -- with a view to assuring that it be
brought to a successful conclusion within a reasonable time."
McNamara declared himself impressed with the "tremendous
progress" that had been made, and called for "phasing out major
U.S. advisory and logistic support activities." General Paul
Harkins (commander of the US military mission) estimated that the
VC should be "eliminated as a significant force" about a year
after the Vietnamese forces then being trained and equipped
"became fully operational." McNamara, however, insisted upon "a
conservative view": planning should be based on the assumption
that "it would take three years instead of one, that is, by the
latter part of 1965." He also "observed that it might be
difficult to retain public support for U.S. operations in Vietnam
indefinitely," a constant concern.  Therefore, it was necessary
"to phase out U.S. military involvement." The Joint Chiefs
ordered preparation of a plan to implement these decisions.  The
operative assumption was that "The insurgency will be under
control" by the end of 1965.
 
On January 25, 1963, General Harkins' plan was presented to the
Joint Chiefs, stating that "the phase-out of the US special
military assistance is envisioned as generally occurring during
the period July 1965-June 1966," earlier where feasible.  A few
days later, the Chiefs were reassured that this was the right
course by a report by a JCS investigative team headed by Army
Chief of Staff Earle Wheeler that included leading military
hawks.  Its report was generally upbeat and optimistic.  The
anticipated success of current plans to intensify military
operations would allow a "concurrent phase-out of United States
support personnel, leaving a Military Assistance Advisory Group
of about 1,600 personnel" by 1965.  All of this was considered
feasible and appropriate by the top military command.
 
Wheeler then reported directly to the President, informing him
"that things were going well in Vietnam militarily, but that `Ho
Chi Minh was fighting the war for peanuts and if we ever expected
to win that affair out there, we had to make him bleed a little
bit'." The President "was quite interested in this," General
Wheeler recalled in oral history (July 1964).  His dovish
advisers were also impressed.  In April 1963, Hilsman proposed to
"continue the covert, or at least deniable, operations along the
general lines we have been following for some months" against
North Vietnam with the objective of "keeping the threat of
eventual destruction alive in Hanoi's mind." But "significant
action against North Vietnam" is unwise on tactical grounds: it
should be delayed until "we have demonstrated success in our
counter-insurgency program." Such "premature action" might also
"so alarm our friends and allies and a significant segment of
domestic opinion that the pressures for neutralization will
become formidable"; as always, the dread threat of diplomacy must
be deflected.  With judicious planning, Hilsman said, "I believe
we can win in Viet-Nam."
 
Hilsman was not quite as optimistic as the military command.  A
few days before the President heard Wheeler's upbeat report, he
received a memorandum from Hilsman and Forrestal (Jan. 25) that
was more qualified.  They condemned the press for undue pessimism
and underplaying US success, and agreed that "The war in South
Vietnam is clearly going better than it was a year ago," praising
ARVN's "increased aggressiveness" resulting from the US military
escalation, and reporting that GVN control now extended to over
half the rural population (the VC controlling 8%), a considerable
gain through late 1962.  But "the negative side of the ledger is
still awesome." The VC had increased their regular forces,
recruiting locally and supplied locally, and are "extremely
effective." "Thus the conclusion seems inescapable that the Viet
Cong could continue the war effort at the present level, or
perhaps increase it, even if the infiltration routes were
completely closed." "Our overall judgment, in sum, is that we are
probably winning, but certainly more slowly than we had hoped."
They made a variety of technical recommendations to implement the
counterinsurgency program more efficiently, with more direct US
involvement; and to improve the efficiency of the US mission to
accelerate the "Progress toward winning the war."
 
We thus learn that in early 1963, in an atmosphere of
considerable to great optimism, the military initiatives for
withdrawal went hand-in-hand with plans for escalation of the war
within South Vietnam and possibly intensified actions against
North Vietnam.  We learn further that such "intelligence and
sabotage forays" into North Vietnam were already underway --
since mid-1962 according to McGeorge Bundy.  On December 11,
1963, as the new Administration took over, Michael Forrestal
(another leading Kennedy dove) confirmed that "For some time the
Central Intelligence Agency has been engaged in joint clandestine
operations with ARVN against North Vietnam." Journalist William
Pfaff reports that in the summer of 1962, at a Special Forces
encampment north of Saigon he observed a CIA "patrol loading up
in an unmarked C-46 with a Chinese pilot in civilian clothes,"
taking off for a mission in North Vietnam ("possibly into China
itself"), with some "Asians, some Americans or Europeans."
 
The connection between withdrawal and escalation is readily
understandable: successful military actions would enable the GVN
to take over the task from the Americans, who could then withdraw
with victory secured, satisfying the common intent of the extreme
hawks, war manager McNamara, and JFK.
 
In the following months, the withdrawal plans were carried
forward under the same optimistic assumptions, with the agreement
of the military, Secretary of State Dean Rusk, and General
Maxwell Taylor, JFK's most trusted military adviser.  The
"fundamental objective" remained unchanged, Michael Forrestal
advised the President on August 27: the US must "give
wholehearted support to the prosecution of the war against the
Viet Cong terrorists," and "continue assistance to any government
in South Vietnam which shows itself capable of sustaining this
effort."
 
The reference to "any government" relates to increasing
Administration concerns over the Diem regime.  One factor was
that its repression was evoking internal resistance, which was
interfering with the war effort.  Another was that Diem and his
brother Nhu were pressing their demands for US withdrawal with
increasing urgency, sometimes in public, including a front-page
interview in the _Washington Post_ in May in which Nhu called
for withdrawal of half the American military.  Administration
planners feared that GVN pressures for withdrawal of US forces
would become difficult to resist, a danger enhanced by
exploratory GVN efforts to reach a diplomatic settlement with the
North.  The skimpy political base for Kennedy's war would then
erode, and the US would be compelled to withdraw without victory.
That option being unacceptable, the Saigon regime had to get on
board, or be dismissed.

 
Vain Hopes, False Dreams (Part 3 of 7, 20KB)
========================
 
3. JFK and Withdrawal: the Denouement
-------------------------------------
 
By the end of August, JFK and his most dovish advisers (Averell
Harriman, Roger Hilsman, George Ball) agreed that the client
government should be overthrown.  On August 28, the President
"asked the Defense Department to come up with ways of building up
the anti-Diem forces in Saigon," and called on his advisers to
devise actions in Washington or "in the field which would
maximize the chances of the rebel generals." Harriman said that
without a coup, "we cannot win the war" and "must withdraw."
Hilsman "agreed that we cannot win the war unless Diem is
removed," as did Ball, while Robert Kennedy also called for
efforts to strengthen the rebel generals.  Secretary Rusk warned
JFK that "Nhu might call on the North Vietnamese to help him
throw out the Americans."
 
Hilsman urged that if Diem and Nhu make any "Political move
toward the DRV (such as opening of neutralization negotiations),"
or even hint at such moves, we should "Encourage the generals to
move promptly with a coup," and be prepared to "hit the DRV with
all that is necessary" if they try to counter our actions,
introducing US combat forces to ensure victory for the coup group
if necessary. "The important thing is to win the war," Hilsman
advised; and that meant getting rid of the Saigon regime, which
was dragging its feet and looking for ways out.  The President
concurred that "our primary objective remains winning war," Rusk
cabled to the Saigon Embassy.
 
The basic principle, unquestioned, is that we must "focus on
winning the war" (Hilsman).  On September 14, Harriman wrote to
Lodge that: "from the President on down everybody is determined
to support you and the country team in winning the war against
the Viet Cong... there are no quitters here."
 
In particular, JFK is no quitter.  There is not a phrase in the
internal record to suggest that this judgment by a high-level
Kennedy adviser, at the dovish extreme, should be qualified in
any way.
 
On September 17, President Kennedy instructed Ambassador Lodge to
pressure Diem to "get everyone back to work and get them to focus
on winning the war," repeating his regular emphasis on victory.
It was particularly important to show military progress because
"of need to make effective case with Congress for continued
prosecution of the effort," the President added, expressing his
constant concern that domestic support for his commitment to
military victory was weak. "To meet these needs," he informed
Lodge, he was sending his top aides McNamara and Taylor to
Vietnam.  He emphasized to them that the goal remains "winning
the war," adding that "The way to confound the press is to win
the war." Like Congress, the press was an enemy because of its
lack of enthusiasm for a war to victory and its occasional calls
for diplomacy.
 
McNamara and Taylor were encouraged by what they found.  On
October 2, they informed the President that "The military
campaign has made great progress and continues to progress." They
presented a series of recommendations, three of which were later
authorized (watered down a bit) in NSAM 263: (1) "An increase in
the military tempo" throughout the country so that the military
campaign in the Northern and Central areas will be over by the
end of 1964, and in the South (the Delta) by the end of 1965; (2)
Vietnamese should be trained to take over "essential functions
now performed by U.S. military personnel" by the end of 1965, so
that "It should be possible to withdraw the bulk of U.S.
personnel by that time"; (3) "the Defense Department should
announce in the very near future presently prepared plans to
withdraw 1000 U.S. military personnel by the end of 1963" as "an
initial step in a long-term program to replace U.S. personnel
with trained Vietnamese without impairment of the war effort."
 
Their report stressed again that the "overriding objective" is
victory, a matter "vital to United States security," but that
withdrawal could not be too long delayed: "any significant
slowing in the rate of progress would surely have a serious
effect on U.S. popular support for the U.S. effort." They
anticipated victory by the end of 1965.  The withdrawal plans
were crucially qualified in the usual way: "No further reductions
should be made until the requirements of the 1964 campaign become
firm," that is, until battlefield success is assured.
 
Note that lack of popular support for the war was not perceived
by JFK and his advisers as providing an opportunity for
withdrawal, but rather as a threat to victory.
 
The NSC met the same day to consider these proposals.  The
President's role was, as usual, marginal.  He repeated that "the
major problem was with U.S. public opinion" and, as he had before,
balked at the time scale.  He opposed a commitment to withdraw
some forces in 1963 because "if we were not able to take this
action by the end of this year, we would be accused of being over
optimistic." McNamara, in contrast, "saw great value in this
sentence in order to meet the view of Senator Fulbright and
others that we are bogged down forever in Vietnam." The phrase
was left as "a part of the McNamara-Taylor report rather than as
predictions of the President," who thus remained uncommitted to
withdrawal, at his insistence.
 
A public statement was released to the press, and prominently
published, presenting the essence of the McNamara-Taylor
recommendations.  The statement repeated the standard position
that the US will work with the GVN "to deny this country to
Communism and to suppress the externally stimulated and supported
insurgency of the Viet Cong as promptly as possible," continuing
with "Major U.S. assistance in support of this military
effort," which is needed only until the insurgency has been
suppressed or until the national security forces of the
Government of South Viet-Nam are capable of suppressing it."
 
These decisions were encapsulated in NSAM 263 (Oct. 11), a brief
statement in which "The President approved the military
recommendations" 1-3 cited above, weakened by one change: that
"no formal announcement be made of the implementation of plans to
withdraw 1,000 U.S. military personnel by the end of 1963." The
final provision of NSAM 263 is JFK's personal instruction to
Ambassador Lodge to step up the military effort along with
training and arming of new forces, so as to enhance the prospects
for victory, on which withdrawal was conditioned.
 
Note that read literally, NSAM 263 says very little.  It approves
the McNamara-Taylor recommendations to intensify the war and
military training so that "It should be possible to withdraw the
bulk of U.S. personnel" by the end of 1965, and includes JFK's
personal instructions to Lodge to intensify military action.  It
does not call for implementing a 1,000 man withdrawal, but rather
endorses the third point of the McNamara-Taylor proposal
concerning plans for such withdrawal "as an initial step in a
long-term program" to be conducted "without impairment of the war
effort," deleting their call for formal announcement of these
plans.
 
Presumably, the intent was to implement the withdrawal plans if
military conditions allow, but that intent is unstated.  The fact
might be borne in mind in the light of elaborate later efforts to
read great significance into nuances of phrasing so as to
demonstrate a dramatic change in policy with the Kennedy-Johnson
transition.  Adopting these interpretive techniques, we would
conclude that NSAM 263 is almost vacuous.  I stress that that is
not my interpretation; I assume the obvious unstated intention,
only suggesting that other documents be treated in the same
reasonable manner -- in which case, widely-held beliefs will
quickly evaporate.
 
The picture presented in public at the time requires no
significant modification in the light of the huge mass of
documents now available, though these make much more clear the
President's unwillingness to commit himself to the withdrawal
advocated by his war managers for fear that the victory might not
be achieved in time, his concerns that domestic opinion might not
stay the course, his insistence that withdrawal be conditioned on
military victory, and his orders to step up the military effort
and to replace the Diem regime by one that will "focus on
winning" and not entertain thoughts of US withdrawal and peaceful
settlement.
 
Through October 1963, problems with the GVN continued to mount.
Nhu called openly for the Americans to get out completely, only
providing aid.  Another problem was the lack of "effectiveness of
GVN in its relation to its own people." Asked about this,
Ambassador Lodge responded in an "Eyes only for the President"
communication that "Viet-Nam is not a thoroughly strong police
state...because, unlike Hitler's Germany, it is not efficient"
and is thus unable to suppress the "large and well-organized
underground opponent strongly and ever-freshly motivated by
vigorous hatred." The Vietnamese "appear to be more than ever
anxious to be left alone," and though they "are said to be
capable of great violence on occasion," "there is no sight of it
at the present time," another impediment to US efforts.
 
Small wonder that JFK was unwilling to commit himself to the
McNamara-Taylor withdrawal proposal.  Note that the same defects
of the US clients underlie the critique of the strategic hamlet
program by Kennedy doves.
 
Washington's coup plans continued, with Ambassador Lodge in
operational command.  The only hesitation was fear of failure.
When the coup finally took place on November 1, replacing Diem
and Nhu (who were killed) by a military regime, the President
praised Lodge effusively for his "fine job" and "leadership," an
"achievement...of the greatest importance." With the generals now
in power, "our primary emphasis should be on effectiveness rather
than upon external appearances," the President added.  We must
help the coup regime to confront "the real problems of winning
the contest against the Communists and holding the confidence of
its own people." The "ineffectiveness, loss of popular
confidence, and the prospect of defeat that were decisive in
shaping our relations to the Diem regime" are now a thing of the
past, the President hoped, thanks to Lodge's inspired leadership
and coup-management, with its gratifying outcome (Nov. 6).
 
Two weeks before Kennedy's assassination, there is not a phrase
in the voluminous internal record that even hints at withdrawal
without victory.  JFK urges that everyone "focus on winning the
war"; withdrawal is conditioned on victory, and motivated by
domestic discontent with Kennedy's war.  The stakes are
considered enormous.  Nothing substantial changes as the mantle
passes to LBJ.
 
The post-coup situation had positive and negative aspects from
the point of view of the President and his advisers.  On the
positive side, they hoped that the ruling generals would now at
last focus on victory as the President had demanded, gain popular
support, and end the irritating calls for US withdrawal and moves
towards a peaceful settlement.  On the other hand, there was
disarray at all levels, while at home, advocacy of diplomacy was
not stilled.  Furthermore, evidence that undermined the
optimistic assessments was becoming harder to ignore.  The new
government confirmed that the GVN "had been losing the war
against the VC in the Delta for some time because it had been
losing the population." A top-level meeting was planned for
Honolulu on November 20 to consider the next steps.  The US
mission in Vietnam recommended that the withdrawal plans be
maintained, the new government being "warmly disposed toward the
U.S." and offering "opportunities to exploit that we never had
before." Kennedy's plans to escalate the assault against the
southern resistance could now be implemented, with a stable
regime finally in place.  McNamara, ever cautious, was concerned
by a sharp increase in VC incidents and urged that "We must be
prepared to devote enough resources to this job of winning the
war."
 
At the Honolulu meeting, a draft was written by McGeorge Bundy
for what became NSAM 273, adopted after the assassination but
prepared for JFK with the expectation that he would approve it in
essentials, as was the norm.  Top advisers agreed; Hilsman made
only "minor changes." The State Department history states
correctly that the draft "was almost identical to the final
paper," differing only in paragraph 7.
 
Both documents reiterate the basic wording of the early October
documents.  On withdrawal, the version approved by Johnson is
identical with the draft prepared for Kennedy.  It reads: "The
objectives of the United States with respect to the withdrawal of
U.S. military personnel remain as stated in the White House
statement of October 2, 1963," referring to the statement of US
policy formalized without essential change as NSAM 263.  As for
paragraph 7, the draft and final version are, respectively, as
follows:
 
     "_Draft_: With respect to action against North Vietnam,
     there should be a detailed plan for the development of
     additional Government of Vietnam resources, especially
     for sea-going activity, and such planning should indicate
     the time and investment necessary to achieve a wholly new
     level of effectiveness in this field of action."
 
     "_NSAM 273_: Planning should include different levels of
     possible increased activity, and in each instance there
     should be estimates of such factors as: A. Resulting
     damage to North Vietnam; B. The plausibility of denial;
     C. Possible North Vietnamese retaliation; D. Other
     international reaction.
 
     Plans should be submitted promptly for approval by higher
     authority."
 
There is no relevant difference between the two documents, except
that the LBJ version is weaker and more evasive, dropping the
call for "a wholly new level of effectiveness in this field of
action"; further actions are reduced to "possible." The reason
why paragraph 7 refers to "additional" or "possible increased"
activity we have already seen: such operations had been underway
since the Kennedy offensive of 1962, apparently with direct
participation of US personnel and foreign mercenaries.
 
No direct US government involvement is proposed in NSAM 273
beyond what was already underway under JFK.  The plans later
developed by the DOD and CIA called for "Intensified sabotage
operations in North Vietnam by Vietnamese personnel," with the US
involved only in intelligence collection (U-2, electronics) and
"psychological operations" (leaflet drops, "phantom covert
operations," "black and white radio broadcasts").
 
These two NSAMs (263 in October, 273 on Nov. 26 with a Nov. 20
draft written for Kennedy) are the centerpiece of the thesis that
Kennedy planned to withdraw without victory, a decision at once
reversed by LBJ (and perhaps the cause of the assassination).
They have been the subject of many claims and charges.  Typical
is Oliver Stone's Address to the National Press Club alleging
that a "ten-year study" by John Newman (_JFK and Vietnam_)
"makes it very clear President Kennedy signaled his intention to
withdraw from Vietnam in a variety of ways and put that intention
firmly on the record with National Security Action Memorandum 263
in October of 1963," while LBJ "reverse[d] the NSAM" with NSAM
273; Kennedy was assassinated for that reason, Stone suggests.
Zachary Sklar, the co-author (with Stone) of the screenplay
_JFK_, also citing Newman's book, claims further that the draft
prepared for Kennedy "says that the U.S. will _train South
Vietnamese_ to carry out covert military operations against North
Vietnam" while "In the final document, signed by Johnson, it
states that _U.S. forces_ themselves will carry out these
covert military operations," leading to the Tonkin Gulf incident,
which "was an example of precisely that kind of covert operation
carried out by U.S. forces" (his emphasis).  Arthur Schlesinger
claims that after the assassination, "President Johnson,
listening to President Kennedy's more hawkish advisers..., issued
National Security Action Memorandum 273 calling for the
maintenance of American military programs in Vietnam `at levels
as high' as before -- reversing the Kennedy withdrawal policy."
As further proof he cites a paragraph from NSAM 273: "It
_remains_ the _central objective_ of the United States in
South Vietnam to _win_ their contest against the _externally
directed_ and supported communist conspiracy." He highlights
these words to show that LBJ was undertaking "both the total
commitment Kennedy had always refused and the diagnosis of the
conflict" that Kennedy had "never quite accepted."
 
These alleged facts are held to establish the historic change at
the assassination.
 
The claims, however, have no known basis in fact, indeed are
refuted by the internal record, which gives no hint of any
intention by JFK to withdraw without victory -- quite the
contrary -- and reveals no "reversal" in NSAM 273.  Newman's book
adds nothing relevant.  The call for maintenance of aid is in the
draft of NSAM 273 prepared for Kennedy, and was also at the core
of his tentative withdrawal plans, conditioned on victory and
"Major U.S. assistance" to assure it.  Furthermore, Kennedy's
more dovish advisers approved and continued to urge LBJ to follow
what they understood to be JFK's policy, rejecting any thought of
withdrawal without victory.  The final version of NSAM 273 does
not state that US forces would carry out covert operations in any
new way; nor did they, in the following months.  There were
covert attacks on North Vietnamese installations just prior to
the Tonkin Gulf incident, but they were carried out by South
Vietnamese forces, according to the internal record.
Schlesinger's highlighted words appear regularly in both the
public and private Kennedy record, as does the diagnosis, along
with JFK's insistent demand that everyone must "focus on winning
the war." The hidden meanings are in the eye of the beholder.
 
The two versions of NSAM 273 differ in no relevant way, apart
from the weakening of paragraph 7 in the final version.
Furthermore, the departure from NSAM 263 is slight, and readily
explained in terms of changing assessments.  Efforts to detect
nuances and devious implications have no basis in fact, and if
pursued, could easily be turned into a (meaningless) "proof" that
LBJ toned down Kennedy aggressiveness.
 
The call in NSAM 273 (both the draft and the weakened LBJ
version) for consideration of further ARVN operations against the
North is readily explained in terms of the two basic features of
the post-coup situation: the feeling among Kennedy's war planners
that with the Diem regime gone, the US at last had a stable base
for Kennedy's war in the South, with new "opportunities to
exploit"; and the increasing concern about the military situation
in the South, undermining earlier optimism.  The former factor
made it possible to consider extension of ARVN operations; the
latter made it more important to extend them.  In subsequent
months, Kennedy's planners (now directing Johnson's war)
increasingly inclined towards operations against the North as a
way to overcome their inability to win the war in the South,
leading finally to the escalation of 1965, undertaken largely to
"drive the DRV out of its reinforcing role and obtain its
cooperation in bringing an end to the Viet Cong insurgency,"
using "its directive powers to make the Viet Cong desist"
(Taylor, Nov. 27, 1964).
 
 
4. LBJ and the Kennedy Doves
----------------------------
 
Kennedy's more dovish advisers recommended the policies that
Johnson pursued, and generally approved of them until the 1965
escalation, often beyond.  They lost no time in making clear that
JFK's commitment to victory would not be abandoned.  On December
10, Forrestal, Ball, Harriman and Hilsman, reiterating JFK's
consistent stand, assured Lodge that "we are against neutralism
and want to win the war." The same unwavering commitment was
reiterated by Ball, who informed Lodge on Dec. 16 that "Nothing
is further from USG mind than `neutral solution for Vietnam.' We
intend to win."  A year later (Nov. 1964), Ball held that the
Saigon regime must continue to receive US aid until the Viet Cong
is defeated and that "the struggle would be a long one, even with
the DRV out of it." Ball and other doves continued to support
Johnson's policies, which they regarded as a continuation of
Kennedy's.  On May 31, 1964, Ball praised "the President's wise
caution" and refusal to "act hastily."
 
Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield, later portrayed as an
advocate of withdrawal, had raised only tactical objections to
JFK's escalation.  He advised JFK to abandon "rhetorical
flourishes" about the great stakes (advice that the President
rejected, as noted).  And recognizing that Diem was not fighting
the war effectively, he advised withdrawal of some advisors "as a
symbolic gesture, to make clear that we mean business when we say
that there are some circumstances in which this commitment will
be discontinued." Mansfield generally supported Johnson's
policies.  At an NSC meeting on April 3, 1964, LBJ rejected
Senator Morse's proposal for "using SEATO and the UN to achieve a
peaceful settlement" in favor of McNamara's view that withdrawal
or neutralization would lead to a Communist takeover and
therefore remain unacceptable options.  Mansfield agreed, urging
"that the President's policy toward Vietnam was the only one we
could follow." He firmly rejected the withdrawal option and the
diplomatic moves counselled by Morse.  In January 1965, Mansfield
publicly supported "the President's desire neither to withdraw
nor carry the war to North Vietnam" (_PP_).  Later, he bitterly
condemned critics of Johnson's escalation.
 
Quite generally, Kennedy's most dovish advisers sensed no change
at the transition and lent their support to Johnson.  Some
praised his "wise caution," while others called for more
aggressive action.  By mid-1964, Forrestal was coming to support
escalation of actions against the North.  Hilsman's position was
similar.  In a March 14 memorandum he stressed the need "to take
whatever measures are necessary in Southeast Asia to protect
those who oppose the Communists and to maintain our power and
influence in the area," including "whatever military steps may be
necessary to halt Communist aggression in the area" (crucially,
VC "aggression").  We should station a Marine battalion in Saigon
on the pretext of protecting American dependents.  Attacks
against the North might be "a useful _supplement_ to an
effective counterinsurgency program," but not "an effective
_substitute_" for it.  We must "continue the covert, or at
least deniable, operations" against the North in order to keep
"the threat of eventual destruction alive in Hanoi's mind."
Recall that he had made the same recommendations in April 1963,
in virtually the same words, including the advice to "continue"
the ongoing covert operations against the North with their
implicit threat of destruction.
 
The support for LBJ among the Kennedy doves comes as no surprise,
given their familiarity with the internal record, which shows no
deviation on the President's part from Harriman's judgment that
"there are no quitters here." As the optimistic predictions of
1962-3 collapsed after the coup that overthrew Diem, undermining
the precondition for withdrawal, they advocated a change of
tactics to achieve the "fundamental objective" always sought.
 
We might note, at this point, that the military leadership was
divided over the war.  General Douglas MacArthur and his
successor as Army Chief of Staff, Matthew Ridgway, were strongly
opposed to the use of combat troops.  The top US military
commander in Vietnam, MAAG Chief General Lionel McGarr, informed
JFK on February 22, 1962 that "in providing the GVN the tools to
do the job," the US "must not offer so much that they forget that
the job of saving the country is theirs -- only they can do it."
General Taylor and Pacific Commander Admiral Henry Felt shared
these qualms about combat troops.  As plans to overthrow the
Diem-Nhu regime were underway in September 1963, Taylor expressed
his "reluctance to contemplate the use of U.S. troops in combat
in Vietnam," while agreeing with the President and his other top
advisers that "our sole objective was to win the war." A year
after the assassination, agreeing with McGarr, Taylor continued
to urge that the US keep to the "principle that the Vietnamese
fight their own war in SVN" (Nov. 3, 1964).  He therefore opposed
sending logistical forces for flood relief because that would
require dispatch of "US combat troops in some numbers to provide
close protection." Two weeks later, he informed President Johnson
directly that he was now "quite certain [US combat troops] were
not needed...as the estimates of the flood damage diminish." In
September 1964, Taylor had explained that the military command
"did not contemplate" committing combat forces because Commanding
General Westmoreland, also echoing McGarr, felt that use of
American troops "would be a mistake, that it is the Vietnamese'
war."
 
In later years, great import has been attributed to JFK's public
reiteration of the McGarr-Westmoreland-Taylor "principle" in his
Sept. 1963 statement that "In the final analysis it is their war.
They have to win it or lose it." It is, therefore, worth
stressing that the "principle" was standard throughout in
internal and public discussion, through 1964, including LBJ's
public statements.
 
General David Shoup, Marine Commandant through the Kennedy years,
reports that when the Joint Chiefs considered troop deployment,
"in every case...every senior officer that I knew...said we
should never send ground combat forces into Southeast Asia."
Shoup's public opposition to the war from 1966 was particularly
strong, far beyond anything said by the civilian leadership,
media doves, or others who later presented themselves as war
critics.
 
These observations add further weight to the conclusion based on
the record of internal deliberations, in which JFK insists upon
victory and considers withdrawal only on this condition.  Had he
intended to withdraw, he would have been able to enlist respected
military commanders to back him, so it appears, including the
most revered figures of the right.  He made no effort to do so,
preferring instead to whip up pro-war sentiment with inflammatory
rhetoric about the awesome consequences of withdrawal.
 
5. Interpretations: the early version
-------------------------------------
 
The final source of evidence on JFK's plans is the memoirs and
other comments of his advisers.  These come in two versions:
before and after the Tet offensive.  We review these in the next
two sections, then turning to the 1991-2 revival and revisions.
This survey only adds conviction to what we have already found.
 
Kennedy's commitment to stay the course was clear to those
closest to him.  As noted, Arthur Schlesinger shared JFK's
perception of the enormous stakes and his optimism that the
military escalation had reversed the "aggression" of the
indigenous guerrillas in 1962.  There is not a word in
Schlesinger's chronicle of the Kennedy years (1965, reprinted
1967) that hints of any intention to withdraw without victory.
In fact, Schlesinger gives no indication that JFK thought about
withdrawal at all.  The withdrawal plans receive one sentence in
his voluminous text, attributed to McNamara in the context of the
debate over pressuring the Diem regime.  There is nothing else in
this 940-page virtual day-by-day record of the Kennedy
Administration by its quasi-official historian.  Far more detail
had appeared in the press in October-December 1963.
 
These facts leave only three possible conclusions: (1) the
historian was keeping the President's intentions secret; (2) this
close JFK confidant had no inkling of his intentions; (3) there
were no such intentions.
 
By 1966, it was becoming clear that things were not going well in
Vietnam.  In his _Bitter Heritage_ (1966), Arthur Schlesinger
expressed concern that the US military effort had dubious
prospects, though "we may all be saluting the wisdom and
statesmanship of the American government" if it succeeds.
Referring to Joseph Alsop's predictions of victory, Schlesinger
writes that "we all pray that Mr. Alsop will be right," though he
doubts it.  The only qualms are tactical: what will be the cost
to us?  Schlesinger describes himself as holding high the spirit
of JFK.  He flatly opposes withdrawal, which "would have ominous
reverberations throughout Asia," and again gives no hint that
Kennedy ever considered such a possibility.
 
Another close associate, Theodore Sorenson, also published a
history of the Administration in 1965.  Sorenson was Kennedy's
first appointed official, served as his special counsel and
attended all NSC meetings.  He makes no mention of withdrawal
plans.  Quite the contrary.  Kennedy's "essential contribution,"
he writes, was to avoid the extremes advocated "by those
impatient to win or withdraw.  His strategy essentially was to
avoid escalation, retreat or a choice limited to these two, while
seeking to buy time..." He opposed withdrawal or "bargain[ing]
away Vietnam's security at the conference table." Sorenson's
conclusion is that JFK "was simply going to weather it out, a
nasty, untidy mess to which there was no other acceptable
solution.  Talk of abandoning so unstable an ally and so costly a
commitment `only makes it easy for the Communists,' said the
President. `I think we should stay'." So his account ends.
Again, we may choose among the same three conclusions.
 
No one was closer to JFK than his brother Robert.  He had
expressed his position in 1962: "The solution lies in our winning
it.  This is what the President intends to do... We will remain
here [in Saigon] until we do." In 1964 oral history, RFK said
that the Administration had never faced the possibilities of
either withdrawal or escalation.  Asked what JFK would have done
if the South Vietnamese appeared doomed, he said: "We'd face that
when we came to it." "Robert's own understanding of his brother's
position," his biographer Arthur Schlesinger reports, was that
"we should win the war" because of the domino effect.  The
problem with Diem, RFK added, was that we need "somebody that can
win the war," and he wasn't the man for it.  Accordingly, it is
no surprise that RFK fully supported Johnson's continuation of
what he understood to be his brother's policies through the 1965
escalation.
 
The last of the early accounts of the Kennedy Administration was
written by Roger Hilsman in late 1967, shortly before the Tet
offensive and well after severe doubts about the war were raised
at the highest levels.  He takes it for granted that the goal
throughout was "to defeat the Communist guerrillas." He writes
that had JFK lived, "he might well have introduced United States
ground forces into South Vietnam -- though I believe he would not
have ordered them to take over the war effort from the Vietnamese
but would have limited their mission to the task of occupying
ports, airfields, and military bases to demonstrate to the North
Vietnamese that _they_ could not win the struggle by escalation
either" -- the enclave strategy that had been advocated by Ball
and Taylor in early 1965, then by others.  The question of how to
respond to a collapse of the Saigon regime was delayed, he
writes, in the hope that it would not arise.  Hilsman feels that
LBJ "sincerely even desperately wanted to make the existing
policy work," without US combat forces, citing his statement of
Sept. 25, 1964 that "We don't want our American boys to do the
fighting for Asian boys." He cites the White House statement
announcing the adoption of the McNamara-Taylor October 1963
recommendations, adding nothing of substance to what was
published in the press at the time.  His only comment is that the
optimistic predictions on which withdrawal was predicated would
come "to haunt Secretary McNamara and the whole history of
American involvement in Vietnam."
 
The internal record of 1964 shows that Kennedy doves saw matters
much as described in the 1964-67 memoirs, and therefore continued
to support Johnson's policies, some pressing for further
escalation, others (Ball, Mansfield) praising Johnson for
choosing the middle course between escalation and withdrawal.
 
We have now reviewed all the crucial evidence: the events
themselves, the public statements, the record of internal
deliberations and planning, the opinions of the military, the
attitudes of the Kennedy doves, and the pre-Tet memoirs and
commentary.  The conclusions are unambiguous, surprisingly so on
a matter of current history: President Kennedy was firmly
committed to the policy of victory that he inherited and
transmitted to his successor, and to the doctrinal framework that
assigned enormous significance to that outcome; he had no plan or
intention to withdraw without victory; he had apparently given
little thought to the matter altogether, and it was regarded as
of marginal interest by those closest to him.  Furthermore, the
basic facts were prominently published at the time, with more
detail than is provided by the early memoirs.
 
6. The Record Revised
---------------------
 
After the Tet Offensive, major domestic power sectors concluded
that the enterprise was becoming too costly to them and called
for it to be terminated.  President Johnson was, in effect,
dismissed from office, and policy was set towards disengagement.
The effect on the ideological system was dramatic.  The liberal
intelligentsia felt the "need to insulate JFK from the disastrous
consequences of the American venture in Southeast Asia," Thomas
Brown observes in his study of Camelot imagery. "Kennedy's role
in the Vietnam war is unsurprisingly...the aspect [of his public
image and record] that has been subjected to the greatest number
of revisions by Kennedy's admirers... The important thing was
that JFK be absolved of responsibility for the Vietnam debacle;
when the need for exculpation is so urgent, no obstacles --
including morality and the truth -- should stand in the way"
(_JFK: History of an Image_, 1988).
 
The latter comment relates specifically to one of the earliest
post-Tet efforts to revise the image, the 1972 memoir by White
House aide Kenneth O'Donnell, whose stories have assumed center
stage in the post-Tet reconstruction.  He writes that Kennedy had
informed Senator Mansfield that he agreed with him "on the need
for a complete military withdrawal from Vietnam," adding that he
had to delay announcement of "a withdrawal of American military
personnel" until after the November 1964 election to avoid
"another Joe McCarthy scare." In 1975, Mansfield told columnist
Jack Anderson that Kennedy "was going to order a gradual
withdrawal" but "never had the chance to put the plan into
effect," though he had "definitely and unequivocally" made that
decision; in 1978, Mansfield said further that Kennedy had
informed him that troop withdrawal would begin in January 1964
(which does not fit smoothly with the O'Donnell story).
 
Noting Mansfield's (partial) confirmation of O'Donnell's report,
Brown points out that "one need not reject this story out of
hand...to doubt that it was a firm statement of Kennedy's
intentions in Vietnam.  Like many politicians, JFK was inclined
to tell people what they wanted to hear." Every authentic
historian discounts such reports for the same reason: "Kennedy
probably told [Mansfield] what he wanted to hear," Thomas
Paterson observes.  The same holds for other recollections,
authentic or not, by political figures and journalists.
 
Whatever else he may have been, Kennedy was a political animal,
and knew enough to tell the Senate Majority Leader and other
influential people what they wanted to hear.  He was also keenly
sensitive to the opposition to his policies among powerful
Senators, who saw them as harmful to US interests.  He also was
aware that public support for the war was thin, as was McNamara
and others.  But JFK never saw the general discontent among the
public, press, and Congress as an opportunity to construct a
popular base for withdrawal; rather, he sought to counter it with
extremist rhetoric about the grand stakes.  He hoped to bring the
war to a successful end before discontent interfered with this
plan.  Had he intended to withdraw, he would also have leaped at
the opportunity provided by the GVN call for reduction of forces
(even outright withdrawal), and its moves toward political
settlement.  As for the right-wing, a President intent on
withdrawal would have called upon the most highly-respected
military figures for support, as already noted.  There is no
indication that this reasonable course was ever considered, again
confirming that withdrawal was never an option.
 
The O'Donnell-Mansfield story is hardly credible on other
grounds.  Nothing would have been better calculated to fan
right-wing hysteria than inflammatory rhetoric about the cosmic
issues at stake, public commitment to stay the course, election
on the solemn promise to stand firm come what may, and then
withdrawal and betrayal.  Furthermore, Mansfield's actual
positions differed from the retrospective version, as noted.  Far
more credible, if one takes such reconstructions seriously, is
General Wheeler's recollection in 1964 (not years later) that
Kennedy was interested in extending the war to North Vietnam.
 
Despite such obvious flaws as these, the O'Donnell-Mansfield
stories are taken very seriously by Kennedy hagiographers.
 
The Camelot memoirists proceeded to revise their earlier versions
after Tet, separating JFK (and by implication, themselves) from
what had happened.  Sorenson was the first.  In the earlier
version, Kennedy was preparing for the introduction of combat
troops if necessary and intended to "weather it out" come what
may, not abandoning his ally, who would have collapsed without
large-scale US intervention.  Withdrawal is not discussed.
Diplomacy is considered a threat, successfully overcome by the
overthrow of the Diem government.  But post-Tet, Sorenson is
"convinced" that JFK would have sought diplomatic alternatives in
1965 -- with the client regime in still worse straits, as he
notes.  The October 1963 withdrawal plan, unmentioned in the old
version, assumes great significance in the post-Tet revision,
with significant omissions: notably, the precondition of military
success.
 
Arthur Schlesinger entered the lists in 1978 with his biography
of Robert Kennedy.  Unlike Sorenson, he does not confine himself
to speculation about JFK's intent.  Rather, he constructs a new
history, radically revising his earlier account.  Thus, while the
pre-Tet versions gave no hint of any intent to withdraw without
victory, in the post-Tet biography of Robert Kennedy, JFK's
alleged withdrawal plans merit a full chapter, though RFK's
"involvement in Vietnam had been strictly limited before Dallas,"
Schlesinger observes.  This startling difference between the pre-
and Post-Tet versions is not attributed to any significant new
information, indeed is not mentioned at all.  In 1992, in a
review of Newman's book, Schlesinger went a step further,
claiming that he had put forth the JFK withdrawal thesis all
along.
 
Post-Tet, the October 1963 decisions, emerging from their earlier
obscurity, become "the first application of Kennedy's phased
withdrawal plan." Unmentioned before, this plan now serves as
prime evidence that Kennedy had separated himself from the two
main "schools": the advocates of counterinsurgency and of
military victory.  The plan shows that JFK was opposed to "both
win-the-war factions,...vaguely searching for a nonmilitary
solution." His public call for winning the war is apparently to
be understood as a ploy to deflect the right-wing.
 
Pre-Tet, it was JFK and Arthur Schlesinger who rejoiced over the
defeat of "aggression" in Vietnam in 1962.  Post-Tet, it is the
_New York Times_ that absurdly denounces "Communist
`aggression' in Vietnam," while "Kennedy was determined to
stall." And though RFK did call for victory over the aggressors
in 1962, he was deluded by "the party line as imparted to him by
McNamara and Taylor," failing to understand the huge gap between
the President's views and the McNamara-Taylor party line -- which
Schlesinger had attributed to the President, with his own
endorsement, in the pre-Tet version.  In the post-Tet version,
the Joint Chiefs join the _New York Times_, McNamara, and
Taylor as extremists undermining the President's moderate
policies.  Commenting on JCS Chairman General Lyman Lemnitzer's
invocation of the "well-known commitment to take a forthright
stand against Communism in Southeast Asia," Schlesinger writes
sardonically that it may have been "well-known" to the Chiefs,
but they "failed in their effort to force it on the President" --
who regularly voiced it in still more strident terms, including
several cases that Schlesinger had cited, pre-Tet: e.g., JFK's
fears of upsetting "the whole world balance" if the US were to
retreat in Vietnam.  Or, we may add his summer 1963 statement
that "for us to withdraw from that effort [to secure the GVN]
would mean a collapse not only of South Vietnam but Southeast
Asia," which Schlesinger quoted and praised as "temperate,"
pre-Tet (902-3).
 
This book and later Schlesinger efforts are so replete with
misrepresentation and error as to defy brief comment.  I will
return to them elsewhere.  They illustrate the seriousness of the
post-Tet endeavor, and its dim prospects.
 
The third early Kennedy memoirist, Roger Hilsman, has written
letters to the press responding to critics of the withdrawal
thesis in which he takes a stronger stand on JFK's intent to
withdraw than in his highly qualified 1967 comments.  His factual
references are misleading, but a close reading shows that Hilsman
is careful to evade the crucial questions: in particular, the
precondition of victory.  He cites Kennedy's statement that "it
is their war" to win or lose as proof of his plan to withdraw,
claiming without evidence that Johnson at once reversed that
intent.  He had said nothing of the sort pre-Tet; quite the
contrary, as we have seen (including the internal record).
Furthermore, if JFK's statement demonstrates his intent to
withdraw, we would have to draw the same conclusions about
McGarr, Taylor, Westmoreland, and LBJ.  That, of course, is
precisely why Hilsman makes no such claim in his 1967 memoir, in
which he emphasizes LBJ's statement that "We don't want our
American boys to do the fighting for Asian boys" to show his
"sincere" and "desperate" effort to carry out JFK's plans.  The
same holds of efforts by Schlesinger and others to read great
significance into JFK statements that were conventional and mean
little.
 
However informative they may be with regard to the duties and
responsibilities of cultural management, the post-Tet revisions
by leading Kennedy intellectuals have no value as history.
Rather, they _constitute_ a chapter of cultural history, one
that is of no slight interest, I believe.
 
7. The Hero-Villain Scenario
----------------------------
 
The withdrawal-without-victory thesis is typically understood to
subsume a second one: that LBJ was responsible for an immediate
reversal of policy from withdrawal to escalation.  The major
effort to establish the dual thesis is Newman's book, which has
received much attention and praise over a broad spectrum.  It was
the basis for the influential Oliver Stone film _JFK_, and is
taken by much of the left to be a definitive demonstration of the
twin theses.  The book was strongly endorsed by Arthur
Schlesinger, who describes it as a "solid contribution," with its
"straightforward and workmanlike, rather military...organization,
tone and style" and "meticulous and exhaustive examination of
documents." Former CIA Director William Colby, who headed the Far
East division of the CIA in 1963-64, hailed Newman's study of
these years as a "brilliant, meticulously researched and
fascinating account of the decision-making which led to America's
long agony in Vietnam"; _America's_ agony, in accordance with
approved doctrine.
 
The book is not without interest.  It contains some new
documentary evidence, which further undermines the
Newman-Schlesinger thesis when extricated from the chaotic jumble
of materials interlarded with highlighted phrases that
demonstrate nothing, confident interpretations of private
intentions and beliefs, tales of intrigue and deception of
extraordinary scale and complexity, so well-concealed as to leave
no trace in the record, and conclusions that become more strident
as the case collapses before the author's eyes.  By the end, he
claims that the National Security Council meetings of _1961_
"more than resolve the question" of whether Kennedy would have
sent combat troops under the radically different circumstances
faced by his advisers in 1965, a conclusion that captures
accurately the level of argument.
 
Newman's basic contention seems to be that JFK was surrounded by
evil advisers who were trying to thwart his secret plan to
withdraw without victory, though unaccountably, he kept giving
them more authority and promoting them to higher positions,
perhaps because he didn't understand them.  Thus JFK thought that
Taylor was "the one general who shared his own views and that he
could, therefore, trust to carry out his bidding." Shamelessly
deceived, JFK therefore promoted him to Chairman of the Joint
Chiefs and relied on him until the end, though Taylor was
undermining him at every turn; Taylor became "the second most
powerful person in the White House," Newman observes (180), with
no attempt to resolve the paradox.  There are a few "good guys,"
but in the chaos, it is hard to be sure who they are: perhaps
Harriman, Forrestal, Hilsman, and McNamara, though even they
joined the malefactors who beset our hero on every side (Harriman
and Hilsman "mired Kennedy in a plot to overthrow Diem," etc.).
 
The withdrawal-without-victory thesis rests on the assumption
that Kennedy realized that the optimistic military reports were
incorrect.  Newman agrees that through 1962 JFK accepted the
optimistic reports, but asserts that by March 1963, he had
"figured out...that the success story was a deception." There is
"hard evidence" for this, he claims, referring to an NBC
documentary on the Diem assassination in November 1963 that
questioned the optimistic intelligence reports.  The remainder of
the evidence is that "in his heart he must have known" that the
military program was a failure.  Unlike his advisers (at least,
those not in on the various "deceptions"), he "had to notice when
the military myth was shaken by Bowles and Mendenhall in late
1962," and by Mansfield's pessimism. "When the drama of the
Wheeler versus Hilsman-Forrestal match ended up in his office in
February 1963, the implication that the story of success was
untrue could no longer be overlooked" (by Kennedy, uniquely); the
"drama" is the difference of judgment as to the time scale for
victory, already reviewed.
 
Not a trace of supporting evidence appears in the internal
record, or is suggested here.  Furthermore, the reports by Bowles
and Mendenhall date from _before_ the time when JFK was still
deceived, according to Newman's account, and Mendenhall's at
least never even reached him, he notes.  As for Bowles, who had
been cut out of policymaking sectors much earlier, Newman does
not mention that after visiting Vietnam in July 1963, he sent a
highly confidential report to McGeorge Bundy (which, in this
case, the President may have seen), in which he wrote that "the
military situation is steadily improving" although "the political
situation is rapidly deteriorating," repeating the standard view
of military success, political failure, recommending various
escalatory steps, and expressing his hope that with "a bit of
luck," we may "turn the tide" and "lay the basis for a far more
favorable situation in Southeast Asia."
 
On this basis, we are to believe that JFK alone understood that
official optimism was unwarranted.
 
Curiously, there is one bit of evidence that does support the
conclusion, but Newman and other advocates of the thesis do not
make use of it.  Recall that at the NSC meeting considering the
McNamara-Taylor recommendations that were partially endorsed in
NSAM 263, Kennedy insisted on dissociating himself even from the
plan to withdraw 1000 personnel because he did not want to be
"accused of being over optimistic" in case the military situation
did not make it feasible.  He allowed the sentence on withdrawal
to remain only if attributed to McNamara and Taylor, without his
acquiescence.  In public too he was more hesitant about the
withdrawal plan than the military command.  One might argue,
then, that JFK did not share the optimism of his advisers, and
was therefore unwilling to commit himself to withdrawal.  This
conclusion has two merits not shared by the thesis we are
examining: (1) it has some evidence to support it; (2) it
conforms to the general picture of Kennedy's commitment to
military victory provided by the internal record.
 
Newman's efforts to demonstrate the "far-reaching and profound
nature of this reversal" that changed the course of history when
the iniquitous LBJ took over are no more impressive.  Thus he
cites an alleged comment reported by Stanley Karnow, in which LBJ
privately told the Joint Chiefs: "Just get me elected and then
you can have your war." Putting aside the reliability of the
source (which, elsewhere, Newman dismisses as unreliable when
Karnow questioned the withdrawal thesis), the full context
reveals that Karnow attributes to Johnson very much what
O'Donnell attributes to Kennedy; assuage the right, get elected,
and then do what you choose.  What LBJ chose was to drag his feet
much as JFK had done.
 
Newman concedes that as of October 2, 1963, when the
McNamara-Taylor withdrawal recommendations were presented, "So
far, it had been couched in terms of battlefield success." But
there was a "sudden turnabout of reporting in early November."
"As the Honolulu meeting approached the tide turned toward
pessimism as suddenly and as swiftly as the optimistic interlude
had begun in early 1962," Newman writes.  The participants in the
Nov. 20 meeting received "shocking military news." "The upshot of
the Honolulu meeting," he continues, "was that the shocking
deterioration of the war effort was presented in detail to those
assembled, along with a plan to widen the war, while the
1,000-man withdrawal was turned into a meaningless paper drill."
The three components of the "upshot" are of course related.  The
fact that prior to the "sudden turn toward pessimism" the entire
discussion of withdrawal had been "couched in terms of
battlefield success" thoroughly undermines Newman's thesis, as
becomes only more clear if we introduce the internal record that
he ignores.
 
In the end, Newman relies almost exclusively on the virtually
meaningless O'Donnell-Mansfield post-Tet reconstructions, while
ignoring the internal record, briefly reviewed, which conforms
closely to JFK's public stance.  His tale is woven from dark
hints and "intrigue," with "webs of deception" at every level.
The military were deceiving Kennedy's associates who were
deceiving Kennedy, while he in turn was deceiving the public and
his advisers, and many were deceiving themselves.  At least, I
think that is what the story is supposed to be; it is not easy to
tell in this labyrinth of fancy.  We are invited to view the
"unforgettable image of a President pitted against his own
advisers and the bureaucracy that served under him" from the very
outset, without a hint of evidence and no explanation as to why
he chose to rely on them in preference to others.  Newman
concedes that JFK's public statements refute his thesis, but
that's easily handled: JFK was cleverly feinting to delude the
right-wing by preaching about the high stakes to the general
public -- who largely didn't care or were uneasy about the war,
as JFK and his advisers knew, and could only be aroused to oppose
withdrawal by this inflammatory rhetoric.
 
By the end, we are wandering along paths "shrouded in mystery and
intrigue," guided by confident assertions about what various
participants "knew," "pretended," "felt," "intended," etc.  The
facts, whatever they may be, are interpreted so as to conform to
the central dogma, taken to have been established.  Given the
rules of the game (deceit, hidden intent, etc.), there can be no
counter-argument: evidence refuting the thesis merely shows the
depths of the mystery and intrigue.  I will put aside further
discussion here, returning to a fuller examination elsewhere.
 
Whatever genre this may be, any pretense of unearthing the facts
has been left far behind.  As in the case of the post-Tet
memoirs, the Newman study and its reception are of considerable
interest, but not as a contribution to history: rather, as an
interesting chapter of cultural history in the late 20th century.