Authors: Eugene Burdick,William J. Lederer
The Ugly American (26 page)
"These charges are not idle," he said. "Nor are they based on speculation. They are facts. These facts were given to us by a person who knows the situation well."
"His name, sir?" Senator Brown snapped in a sharp voice, not even asking for formal permission.
Senator Corona answered without thought.
"Ambassador MacWhite, our diplomatic representative in Sarkhan," he said. "We asked Ambassador MacWhite, one of our most experienced diplomats, what he thought of the situation in Vietnam. He was bitterly pessimistic. He was factual . . ."
"Some of his facts, please, Senator," Senator Brown barked.
Senator Corona looked down at his desk, opened a folder. It was clearly marked "Secret-Executive Session," but his reputation was at stake.
"Ambassador MacWhite said the following," Senator Corona said in an angry voice. "He said that the Vietnamese, both Communist and anti-Communist, hated the French. He stated that the French have had to import North African mercenaries, at great expense, to fight for them in Vietnam, and that all of the natives resented this. He stated that the French merchants were more interested in their concessions than in developing the country. He stated that the French were miserably trapped by the Communist military leaders . . . they won no victories, and they suffered continuous defeat. He stated that we were supplying military vehicles that could not even be used in the mud of Vietnam. He stated that the French military forces refused to use guerilla tactics. He stated that the French hoodwinked the American military and diplomats into thinking everything was rosy . . ."
When Senator Corona yielded the floor, Senator Brown rose. "Surely, Mr. President, we have heard enough," he said in a voice that rang with anger and conviction. "The Honorable Senator has cited a number of statements—but they were gathered from an ambassador in another country."
Senator Brown paused. He let the time drag out, and the pause grew tense and became important.
"Gentlemen, all of what the Honorable Senator has said was in error," Senator Brown said slowly, and with obvious regret. The Senate chamber was still and quiet. The newspaper gallery was attentive. The spectators were hushed. The Senator gathered himself, and no person there failed to feel the solemnity and honesty of his words.
"I can tell you this," he said, "from firsthand knowledge because, gentlemen, I was there. . . ."
The Sum of Tiny Things
Ambassador MacWhite expected the letter long before it arrived. The day Senator Brown had attacked his testimony on the Senate floor, representatives from the AP, UP, and all of the foreign news services had descended upon the U.S. Embassy in Haidho. It had been a grim afternoon. MacWhite had assumed that his testimony would be secret because it had been given in an executive session of the Senate Committee; but obviously the newspapers had the complete text. There was nothing to do but defend what he had said about Vietnam, and this MacWhite did to the best of his ability.
Washington was thunderously silent for three weeks. MacWhite knew he would hear something eventually—but when he did, he was surprised. He got a long, handwritten note from the Secretary of State.
Dear Gilbert:
As you know, Gilbert, I was one of those who persuaded you to join the Foreign Service. I have watched your career with great pride. You are, I have always thought, the kind of American of whom we can be proud. You have always put the security and future of your country ahead of personal benefit. I was pleased when you were given the post at Sarkhan. I had envisaged it as the first of a number of illustrious ambassadorships that you would hold.
I would be less than honest, however, if I did not tell you I have felt grave doubts in the last months. Let me review the record:
(1)
In your first report you indicated that you had made
a
bad mistake. You reported that the embassy staff had been infiltrated by Communist agents, and suggested that we take steps around the world to prevent this. I defended you on the grounds that your report was a courageous act. A lesser man would have said nothing.
(2)
You then took a leave of absence. I received complaints from at least two ambassadors in different Asian countries because you had trod on their toes. As you know, Gilbert, I have been trying to dissolve the excessive protocol in the Foreign Service; but your adventures around Dien Bien Phu were really somewhat more extravagant than one would think necessary on
a
trip to gain orientation and background.
(3)
You requested that George Swift, the Deputy Chief of your mission, be relieved because of carelessness. Then it appeared this carelessness was a refusal to allow one of our Air Force Colonels to read the palm of the King of Sarkhan.
(4)
And now I have just read your testimony before the Senate Foreign Affairs Committee in Executive Session. As you know, we do not try to control the testimony of our people before such committees; but your comments on affairs in a country to which you were not accredited were most immoderate. Even if true, they were indiscreet.
Let me make myself clear, Gilbert. I am not asking for your resignation. Nor am I suggesting that you leave Sarkhan. But, I must have some assurance that your future behavior will conform to what we expect of foreign service officers. Please believe me when I tell you that I am using this informal means of communicating with you in an effort to save the Department embarrassment, and to aid your career.
MacWhite put the letter down. MacWhite knew that the Secretary was a deeply religious and profoundly dedicated man. He was a man who traveled endlessly and relentlessly, and he had great courage.
MacWhite thought a long time before he wrote a reply directly to the Secretary. He decided not to answer the four points raised by the Secretary. Each of them, he thought, was part of a larger picture. He would make one last effort to tell the Secretary his thoughts on American policy, and would let the matter rest there. If the Secretary did not agree, MacWhite would resign.
Dear Mr. Secretary:
I am most grateful for the frankness of your note to me. I should like to respond in the same vein.
As you might have guessed, nothing in my previous experience had prepared me for the silent desperation with which the battle between the Communist world and our world is being fought here. I was not prepared for the fact that in this area politics is, quite literally, a matter of life and death. I had never been really aware that Lenin's remark, "The road to Paris leads through Peking" also meant that the same road runs through Saigon, Tokyo, Bangkok, Djakarta, and even Haidho. But it does.
I do not think that the Russians will ever resort to thermonuclear warfare. They won't have to. They are winning much too easily to run the risk of annihilation by retaliation. Since the end of World War II they have not suffered a major defeat. As you have said often in your public speeches, we will never be the first to launch the bomb. What this means is that the Russians will win the world by their successes in a multitude of tiny battles. Many of these will be fought around conference tables, in the rice fields of Asia, at village meetings, in schools; but mainly they will take place in the minds of men. Only occasionally will the battles be violent; but the sum of these tiny battles will decide whether our way of life is to perish or to persist.
I apologize for this extravagant language; but there is no other way to say what I feel I must: The United States must either prepare itself to win these many tiny conflicts, which are the substance of competitive coexistence; or go down in defeat.
What are we to do? I am not sure I know the whole picture. Perhaps no man does. But a handful of personal experiences have shown me part of the way out of the dreadful dilemma in which we find ourselves. In my tenure here at Haidho perhaps three hundred Americans have passed through the Embassy in one capacity or another. Only five of them were at all valuable in our struggle against Communism. One of them was a Catholic priest, one was an engineer, one an Air Force Colonel, one a Major from Texas, and one a private citizen who manufactures powdered milk. From this tiny handful of effective men I learned some principles. I am not sure that they are applicable in all countries around the world in which the battle is taking place; but I suspect that they are.
The little things we do must be moral acts and they must be done in the real interest of the peoples whose friendship we need— not just in the interest of propaganda. The men I mentioned above, men who have sacrificed and labored here, are not romantic or sentimental. They are tough and they are hard. But they agree with me that to the extent that our foreign policy is humane and reasonable, it will be successful. To the extent that it is imperialistic and grandiose, it will fail.
In any case, I am now prepared to ask you in all humility to allow me to do several things in Sarkhan. If you do not see your way clear to permit these actions, I shall regretfully resign from the Foreign Service. If you are able to grant them, I think there is a better than even chance that I can save Sarkhan from Communism. If I am successful, perhaps my experience will serve as a model.
(1)
I request that every American (and his dependents) sent to Sarkhan be required to be able to both read and speak Sarkhanese. I am satisfied that if the motivation is high enough, any person can learn enough of the language in twelve weeks so that he can get along. This should be required of both military and civilian personnel.
(2)
I request that no American employee be allowed to bring his dependents to Sarkhan unless he is willing to serve here for at least two years. If he does bring his family, it should be with the understanding they will not be given luxurious quarters, but will live in housing which is normal to the area; their housing should certainly not be more luxurious than they are able to afford in America. They should also subsist on foods available in local stores—which are wholesome and ample.
(3)
I request that the American commissary and PX be withdrawn from Sarkhan, and that no American supplies be sold except for toilet articles, baby food, canned milk, coffee, and tobacco.
(4)
I request that Americans not be allowed to bring their private automobiles to this country. All of our official transportation should be done in official automobiles. Private transportation should be taxi, pedicab, or bicycle.
(5)
I request that all Americans serving in Sarkhan, regardless of their classification, be required to read books by Mao Tse-tung, Lenin, Chou En-lai, Marx, Engels, and leading Asian Communists. This reading should be done before arrival.
(6)
I request that in our recruiting program we make all of these conditions clear to any prospective government employee, so that he comes here with no illusions. It has been my experience that superior people are attracted only by challenge. By setting our standards low and making our life soft, we have, quite automatically and unconsciously, assured ourselves of mediocre people.
I know, sir, that these are unusual demands. In a time of massive armament and in a battle between huge empires they may seem almost comical. But, I repeat, grand patterns are no more than the sum of their tiniest parts, and it is on this basic level that we are losing the struggle. As far as is legal and possible I have already made these demands on personnel new in Sarkhan.
If we cannot get Americans overseas who are trained, self-sacrificing, and dedicated, then we will continue losing in Asia. The Russians will win without firing a shot, and the only choice open to us will be to become the aggressor with thermonuclear weapons.
I look forward to your response.
For three weeks MacWhite heard nothing from Washington, but he was neither worried nor idle. He spent several days at a primitive camp observing Major Wolchek instruct Sarkhanese recruits in guerilla tactics. Next he visited the village of Chang 'Dong to inspect its thriving, although tiny, industrial complex. A Sarkhanese mechanic had designed and was manufacturing a simple machine for the canning of fish. The development of this machine had produced an entirely new industry of fish processing in Sarkhan.
On the way back to Haidho Ambassador MacWhite had lunched at Finian's Station, a small non-denominational college. Here 250 Sarkhanese scholarship students, none of whom was over 21, were being given a four-year education. Their curriculum included complete exposure to the writings of both Communist and Western leaders. Most of the students MacWhite talked to said that after they had graduated they intended to return and work in their own villages.
As the ambassador's car approached Haidho, he saw, in a hilly pasture, fifty reddish brown cattle. These cattle had been imported from America only six months before; but already they were beginning to change the eating habits of some sections of Sarkhan. For the first time in the history of the country, children were drinking fresh milk; and in half a dozen towns, the beginning of a leather industry was springing up.
When a reply finally arrived from Washington, it was a cablegram—and it was brief and to the point.
Reply negative to all suggestions your handwritten note X Such actions even though they have merit are highly impractical X We would not be able to get Americans to serve overseas under these conditions X Please return continental United States first available transportation X Anticipate substantial replacement your present staff X Please explore with Sarkhanese Government their attitude toward receiving Mr. Joseph Bing as new ambassador X We consider his extensive press and recruiting experience excellent qualification high position X Signed Secretar
y
Three weeks later Gilbert MacWhite left Sarkhan.