The reflective human is often amazed at the rapidity with which a novelty becomes an antique. The “wonder drugs” are doubtless well named, but we take them for granted to a degree that would have been absolutely unbelievable even ten years ago. So it is with the United States and our alliance policies. We now have eight formal alliances, linking us with a total of 42 different states, and yet even those of us who do not think of ourselves as running Methusaleh a close second can easily recall the days when we said that military alliances were for decadent European monarchies, and that if other people wanted to fight, we would stay far away and let them stew in their own juice. Probably typical of our mixture of idealism with lack of realism was the statement made to the Geneva General Disarmament Conference on May 29, 1934, by the American representative, Mr. Norman Davis:
We are prepared to cooperate in every practicable way in efforts to secure a general disarmament agreement and thus to help promote the general peace and progress of the world. . . . The United States will not, however, participate in European political negotiations and settlements and will not make any commitment whatever to use its armed forces for the settlement of any dispute anywhere. In effect, the policy of the United States is to keep out of war, but to help in every possible way to discourage war.
And it was only ten years earlier that a Canadian public official, a delegate to the League of Nations Assembly, had objected to the League’s projected collective security “Geneva Protocol” in these expressive words:
In this association of mutual insurance against fire, the risks assumed by the different states are not equal. We live in a fire-proof house, far from inflammable material.
All of us have come a long way since then, but Americans at least have not altogether reconciled themselves to the prime power position in which they find themselves, nor to the necessity of international co-operation and its concomitant implication of deferring frequently to the wishes and national interests of their allies. In 1938 President Franklin D. Roosevelt, in a speech at Kingston, Ontario, vowed:
I give to you assurance that the people of the United States will not stand idly by if domination of Canadian soil is threatened by any other Empire.
But these were the days of Neutrality Acts in the United States and many an American grumbled at FDR’s “war-mongering,” even though today it appears that he was stating a policy so obviously in the interest of our own self-defense as to border on the platitudinous. We are told that human beings often wish subconsciously to withdraw to the security of the maternal womb; similarly many of us tend in our wishful thinking to cast a fond and nostalgic glance backward to the days of Secretary of State Philander Knox of whom it was said, a half-century ago, that he rarely bothered to return to his office after lunch: there simply wasn’t enough to do there to keep a man busy full-time. No such remarks are applicable today. In our rational moments, we all realize that alliances are essential and are here to stay.
The United States’ alliances can be readily divided into two general types. The first includes the Rio Treaty of 1947 and the North Atlantic Treaty of 1949, in which we agreed, first with the members of the Organization of American States, and second with a group of like-minded inhabitants of the North Atlantic watershed, that if under certain conditions one of our number were attacked, we would render assistance. But although we agreed that an attack upon one colleague was to be regarded as an attack against ourselves, we merely pledged ourselves (by Article V of the North Atlantic Treaty) to assist the victim of foul play by taking such action as we deemed necessary: there was and is no guarantee of automatic military reprisal. Our assistance to the aggrieved ally might take the form of a military counterattack employing all the forces we could possibly bring to bear, or it could consist in a reproving press statement by the Secretary of State saying that the aggressor was a naughty, naughty boy, and should be ashamed of himself. The decision would be ours, and presumably, though not certainly, would be closer to the first extreme than to the second. Nevertheless this was, for us, a relatively strong commitment.
The second type of alliances includes those which we have, since 1951, concluded with eight of our neighbors in the Pacific, as well as with some others with whom we were already linked in NATO. Thus within a period of ten days around the time of signature of the Japanese peace treaty, we signed a security treaty with Japan, a treaty of mutual guarantee with the Philippine Republic, and another with Australia and New Zealand; all three were promptly ratified and took effect in 1952. In 1953 we added another with the Republic of (South) Korea, which took effect in late 1954. Then in 1954 came two more: one with Chiang Kai-shek’s Nationalist Chinese regime on Taiwan, and one officially referred to as the Manila Pact, setting up what came to be known as the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization or SEATO; both took effect in 1955, The latter had some aspects of a reinsurance deal, involving as it did obligations exchanged between the United States and five other states with which we were already allied: the United Kingdom, France, Australia, New Zealand, and the Philippines. To these were added in SEATO only two distinctively Asian states: Pakistan and Thailand. The Philippines are not included as “distinctively Asian,” despite their geographical position, because of their close relationship to the United States, nor are Australia and New Zealand because of their ties to Britain and the Commonwealth.
Whereas the Rio and NATO arrangements are relatively tight alliances, the Pacific pacts are far looser. Here two sub- types are to be distinguished. The first includes solely the Japanese security treaty which in reality is not in terms a mutual- assistance guarantee at all; nor, indeed, could it be in view of Japan’s demilitarized status as imposed upon her by the “MacArthur” Constitution and the peace treaty. Consequently this “security treaty” simply gives to the United States the right to station troops in and about Japan
... to contribute to the maintenance of international peace and security in the Far East and to the security of Japan against armed attack from without, including assistance given at the express request of the Japanese Government to put down large-scale internal riots and disturbances in Japan, caused through instigation or intervention by an outside power or powers.
Furthermore, the Japanese Government agrees not to give such base rights to any other country without the prior consent of the United States. But although this is not an orthodox guarantee of reciprocal military aid, it does interlock with the Philippine and Australian-New Zealand pacts into the rudiments of a security system. Two other points are to be observed: that United States troops may be stationed in Japan for the protection of “peace and security in the Far East” as well as of Japan alone, and that aid may be afforded in the event of internal subversion as well as of external aggression. This anti-subversion angle has been prominent in most of the United States treaties in the Pacific area.
The second sub-type includes the remainder of the United States’ Pacific security treaties: those with Australia and New Zealand, the Philippines, Korea, Nationalist China, and SEATO. These have several features in common and were obviously patterned after a standard model. Thus all contain an undertaking to arrive at peaceful settlement of disputes, to promote self-help and mutual aid, to consult in case of threats, to apply the guarantees within a specific geographical area, to report to the United Nations Security Council any actions taken in pursuance of enforcement of the guarantees and to desist when the Security Council has taken steps adequate and appropriate to the situation. All are stated to be in force indefinitely, with provision for denunciation on one year’s notice. Under the treaties, United States forces may be stationed in Korea, Taiwan, and the Philippines, as well as in Japan.
As to operative clauses, the Philippines treaty, which was signed first, may be taken as the model; Article IV stipulates that
Each Party recognizes that an armed attack in the Pacific Area on either of the Parties would be dangerous to its own peace and safety and declares that it would act to meet the common dangers in accordance with its constitutional processes.
The Australia-New Zealand (“ANZUS”) “Security Treaty,” signed just two days later, is identical in its comparable provisions, and there are only inconsequential differences of wording in the Korean Treaty of 1953, the Chinese one of 1954, and the Manila Pact of the same year. They all say in effect that an attack on one of the partners in the area would be dangerous to the others, and that the latter will therefore do whatever they conceive at the time to be desirable. Manifestly such provisions as these form no ironclad military alliance in anything like the traditional sense.
How does one account for this wording, so relatively weak as compared with the NATO treaty? There are, of course, several reasons. The one which comes first to the mind of the man who is distrustful of the United States Senate is that the more a treaty’s obligations are watered down, the more likely it is to muster the constitutionally necessary two- thirds vote.
Another factor working against stronger provisions lay in the peculiar circumstance that in very truth the United States could not feel full confidence in the prudence of two of its allies: Korea and Nationalist China. In the former case the United States had to reckon with fire-eating old nationalist Syngman Rhee, who had spent a long and strenuous lifetime exerting his every fiber toward a united and independent Korea. After the de facto division of his country near the 38th parallel, he made it as clear as a sunny day that in his opinion—and he is not noted for deference to those of others—-the only proper thing to do was to “march north,” and reunify the country. Inasmuch as the United States had no stomach for such adventures, it seemed sensible to restrict the guarantee to that which was politically as well as militarily defensible. Thus Article III of the Korean treaty recognizes the mutuality of danger of an armed attack
... on either of the Parties in territories now under their respective administrative control, or hereafter recognized by one of the Parties as lawfully brought under the administrative control of the other. . . .
When the U. S. Senate approved the treaty, it did so subject to the explicit understanding that there would be no obligations in case of a South Korean attack on North Korea.
Not dissimilar was the situation on Taiwan. Chiang Kai-shek professed confidence that at some indefinite but presumably not distant future date he would cross the Taiwan Strait and lead a liberating army to Peking; considerably less reliance was placed by most Americans on this prospect coming to pass within the foreseeable future. But just as an impulsive Rhee might “march north,” Chiang might “sail west,” if either could be assured of unqualified American backing.
That a well-matured apprehension of the dangers inherent in such a position appeared to the Eisenhower administration was demonstrated by the exchange of notes between Mr. Dulles and Mr. Yeh, the Chinese Minister of Foreign Affairs. The treaty had been signed in Washington on December 2, 1954, and the notes were exchanged on December 10, although not made public for two months. The basic treaty’s Article VI had defined the Chinese area to which the guarantee was extended to include only Taiwan and the Pescadores (thus tacitly excluding, incidentally, the much-mooted “offshore islands”). In an evident determination to discourage Chiang from any irresponsible continent- conquering ventures, Mr. Dulles wrote to Mr. Yeh, and the latter confirmed, that although China possessed the “inherent right of self-defense,” the use of force by one partner obviously would affect the other; hence
... it is agreed that such use of force will be a matter of joint agreement, subject to action of an emergency character which is clearly an exercise of the inherent right of self-defense. Military elements which are a product of joint effort and contribution by the two Parties will not be removed from the territories described in Article VI to a degree which would substantially diminish the defensibility of such territories without mutual agreement.
In other words, Chiang was not to attack the mainland without Washington’s approval.
The lack of complete meeting of minds of the governments as to the wording of the guarantees, and the consequent least-common-denominator vagueness, may be accounted for in part on still another ground: the absence of common motives. Washington’s motives were obvious enough: to contain Communism, to retain or acquire Pacific military bases, and to preserve access to the trade of the Far East as well as to its strategic raw materials of which rubber and tin were only two from a long list. The North Korean attack of 1950 and the ensuing conflict were accepted as irrefutable proof of the intention of the Muscovite world Communist power center to proceed with the conquest or domination of the maximum possible area of East and Southeast Asia. In late 1949 the Chinese Communists had established themselves in Peking, and a year later they had intervened against the United Nations forces in Korea in a nearly-successful attempt to drive the United States and its allies off that peninsula. This evidence of Communist territorial intent was seconded in 1953-1954 in French Indo- China, where events proceeded to a most melancholy conclusion at Dien Bien Phu and the 1954 Geneva Conference. Under such circumstances it is scarcely remarkable that the U. S. State Department should assume as an article of faith that its prime responsibility lay in halting the advance of Communism in East Asia. This became and remained its prime motive.
Contrariwise, to many other governments such a single motive was far less acceptable. London and Paris tended to regard Washington as over-emotional on the subject of the internal or external Communist threat and to place measurably less emphasis than did the United States on containment by military force and alliance.
At the same time, most of the United States’ allies who were at least geographically Asian were less concerned with threats emanating from Moscow or Peking than with those from Tokyo. It was indeed the fact that these friends had experienced, directly or vicariously, the Japanese conquest of the 1940’s and they did not attempt to hide their conviction that the United States-drafted Japanese peace treaty let the old enemy off far too leniently. Not only did they emphatically disagree with the decision not to demand war reparations, which they found infuriatingly unrealistic, but they were horrified by the thought of a re-emergence of Nipponese aspirations toward another “Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere,” for they had had altogether enough of that in the decade past. Seen against this background, it is hardly surprising that Australia and New Zealand, confronted with the unattractive prospect of a newly-sovereign Japan, should insist upon the sort of guarantee they received in the ANZUS treaty; nor is it strange that they desired more definite assurances than they got. The Philippines al- already had security agreements with the United States dating from the grant of independence, but that new government wanted, and got, an ANZUS type of pledge which not only allayed some of its anti- Japanese fears but also helped remove domestic opposition to ratification of the 1951 Japanese peace treaty.
The United States government earlier had talked about a general security pact for the Pacific region. Not even a master draftsman, however, could in one document quiet apprehensions of Communist imperialism, renascence of Japanese expansionism, and reconquest by western European colonizers.
There were still other complications. The United Kingdom had been disappointed at being excluded from the ANZUS Pact of 1951, taking the quite understandable position that Australia and New Zealand were old-line members of the Commonwealth, which in itself was in effect an unwritten treaty of mutual guarantee, and that for the United States thus alone to negotiate with them had all the earmarks of a Yankee attempt to displace the traditional paterfamilias. While forswearing such motives, the American view was that if Britain were to join the pact the United States would fall under obligation to defend Singapore, Hong Kong, and other areas to whose defense it had, at that time, no intention of committing itself. And if the United Kingdom were a pact member, there would be no logical ground for exclusion of France, which would involve her Eastern possessions; if Britain and France were members, then the pact would indeed appear to justify the criticism that it was a reorganized club of nineteenth century imperialists whose activities were anathema to the recently ex-colonial Asians. For such reasons as these the pact remained a trilateral one in which two partners tacitly recognized defense interests external to the Commonwealth.
A somewhat different situation arose in the negotiation of the Manila Pact, which the United States had come ardently to desire because of the 1954 debacle in French Indo- China and because of its consequent fear that the Moscow-Peking axis might conquer all of Southeast Asia unless stopped by something like SEATO. The United Kingdom was initially extremely unwilling to join such an alliance, fearing that such action would preclude favorable developments at the Geneva Conference held in the spring and early summer of 1954. Washington, by contrast, had no hope that this conclave would accomplish anything constructive with regard to either of its concerns: Korea and Indochina. Eventually Britain was brought in as an original signatory, but Article VIII defined the protected treaty area as falling south of 21°30' north latitude, and thus excluding Hong Kong as well as Taiwan.
The United States desired the text of the Manila Pact to apply guarantees only in case of Communist aggression, for it had Korea and Indochina much on its mind. Such a limitation was, however, unacceptable to other signatories, several of whom still feared Japan, and therefore the operative clause declared simply and generally that armed aggression within the treaty area would be dangerous to the peace and safety of all. The United States lost this battle but in its own estimation won the war by attaching to the treaty an “Understanding” that its obligation was restricted to the case of Communist aggression, though it did concede that in the event of another type of aggression it would consult with the other members as provided elsewhere in the treaty. The possibility of renewal of aggression in Indochina was covered by an attached protocol which in effect extended the guarantees of Article IV to Laos, Cambodia, and South Vietnam. These states were not signatories and could not be in view of the Geneva armistice arrangements, but this protocol nevertheless extended to them whatever security benefits might be forthcoming for the regular members.
The Manila Pact has the broadest geographical coverage of the treaties here under consideration, and it has received the highest praise and the deepest damnation. While the United States has officially maintained that the treaty would accomplish precisely its mission, the criticisms and cries of anguish from other members could be heard from Wellington to Bangkok. As has happened so often before, the impression got abroad, in preliminary negotiations, that the United States was prepared to accept much heavier economic and military burdens than actually turned out to be the fact. Some members wished to see the creation of a major economic development program, but Washington has shied away and has preferred to rely upon direct bilateral arrangements of a Point Four or technical assistance nature, and to leave the rest of the task to the Colombo Plan.
Several members—Australia, Thailand, and the Philippines—wanted a joint military command and armed force on the NATO model. This analogy to NATO has been displeasing to the United States, which long objected even to calling the Pacific organization SEATO because of the similarity of title and therefore presumptively of function. Unyielding American opposition has blocked a joint command and forces, on the grounds that the United States already had major forces committed to the general area of the western Pacific—Okinawa, Japan, Taiwan, Philippines—and that they could be shifted wherever and whenever needed; Washington was entirely unwilling, despite the grave displeasure of its allies, to commit these forces to SEATO and the defense of any single area. Although joint land and naval maneuvers have been conducted with modest success, the Pacific allies have felt let down in this matter.
Even the name of the organization is a misnomer, in the minds of many: what, indeed, is one to think of an Asian organization that includes only Thailand and Pakistan? By contrast with NATO, SEATO embraces less than half the states and less than one quarter of the people in the area it is presumed to defend, and has been understandably criticized as being an import rather than a local product. Many critics of the organization agreed with Mme. Pandit’s appraisal: “SEATO is a Southeast Asian alliance minus Southeast Asia.”
Indochina could not be formally included under the terms of the 1954 armistice, but India could. However, none but the most blindly optimistic could have expected the adherence of a nation led by Jawaharlal Nehru. Not only would this have involved association with Pakistan, but Nehru never tired of speaking against military blocs and proclaiming that none of them ever brought security to its members. Whether or not people in the West agreed with this, many in the East would, just as they would nod approvingly upon hearing V. K. Krishna Menon describe SEATO as
... a modern version of a protectorate. It is an organization of certain imperial powers and some others who may have an interest in joining together to protect the territory which they say is in danger. We are part of that territory, and we say that we do not want to be protected.
This sentiment could be relied upon to appeal to Indonesia which, as one of the brand-new states of the world, was utterly insistent upon exerting its novel sovereign right to go its own way and was so embittered against the Dutch as to be suspicious of any organization in which the British, French, and Americans were partners. Thus another major potential member was lost, and the distinctively Asian aspect of the alliance dwindled.
Behind such matters loom other pertinent questions. For one: assuming that the purpose of SEATO is to enhance the military posture of the Western-oriented countries in Southeast Asia, is there any evidence of success? Clearly the United States is militarily the most powerful of the allies, and would be with or without SEATO. Most of the signatories of the Manila Pact were already our allies under other treaties; the only new allies added to our list were Thailand and Pakistan, and one would indeed be sanguine to argue that either or both of them added greatly to the armed might of the West, or of the West’s friends in the East.
Again: assuming that military strength is available through SEATO, will that power achieve its intended goal? One may assume that Soviet or Chinese attack would be met by this allied power, and that its availability accounts for the lack of direct Communist aggression in the region since the division of Vietnam in 1954. To this extent the alliance may be said to have succeeded and to be worthy of preservation on the “gun behind the door” principle.
But is this enough? Clearly there is at least one major Soviet objective which is not met by SEATO as it now stands: the Communist economic-political penetration of the past few years. Without our having a pipeline into the Kremlin, we are warranted in guessing that since Korea and 1950, and particularly since 1954, the Soviet leaders have concluded that they would do better to extend their influence less by violence and more by other devices. The Department of State estimated in mid- 1958 that in less than the preceding three years the Soviet Union had extended some $1,900,000,000 in aid—mainly long-term, low-interest loans—to the uncommitted states, mainly in the Middle and Far East. It is common knowledge that in the last five years the Soviet representatives have made deep impressions on the official and popular affection of Southeast Asian nations. Through an astutely-operated and effectively publicized combination of loans, technical assistance, and diplomatic support the Russians have won a host of Oriental friends and there is no indication that the end is yet. This penetration cannot be stopped by any number of troops on guard—which is not to say that the guard should be dropped, but rather that another guard should be raised, in this case an economic one.
The United States had great success with its Marshall Plan in Western Europe, and the crying need of the present hour is for a Far Eastern counterpart of that Plan. True, we are now placing more stress on Asia than we did in our aid programs of even a few years ago, and we are slowly diminishing the preponderance of the military over the economic aspects of our assistance, but this transition must be greatly accelerated. There is a very respectable body of unofficial as well as informed official opinion, both in the United States and abroad, and both in military and in civilian ranks, which is firmly convinced of the need for a major and immediate American economic offensive in Southeast Asia, so designed as to meet and surpass the Soviet challenge. As far back as March, 1957, this was recognized by SEATO itself; for in its second annual report the following statement was made:
When SEATO was established the principal threat to the Treaty Area was that of armed aggression. It has, however, been clear for some time that the Communists have for the moment at least changed their tactics, although we cannot overlook the continuing growth of Communist military strength, particularly in Communist China and North Vietnam. Subversion, which has always been a major problem, is the main threat we now face. To the identification of this threat, and its exposure, and to the development of counter-measures, SEATO has devoted much of its effort in 1956.
It requires little argument to convince one that this threat can be met only to a minor degree by strictly military measures. The Soviet Union is presenting in the Far East a politico-economic challenge that we have as yet only inadequately met. We dare not simply sit with folded hands and glare at it, hoping it will go away.
There is one other treaty which does not, strictly speaking, warrant consideration under the present heading, for technically it is not an alliance of the United States: the Baghdad Pact. However, we are so closely affiliated with it, and its purposes and shortcomings are so similar to those of the treaties just considered, that some attention must be devoted to it.
After the successful launching of the North Atlantic Treaty in the late forties, there was considerable talk of employing the same technique in the Middle East, and consequently for a time one heard a good deal about a “METO,” or Middle East Treaty Organization; it was proposed that participants include the United States, United Kingdom, France, Turkey, and Egypt. This, however, came to naught, not so much because of the predictable and discountable hostility of the U.S.S.R., but because of the harsh opposition of Egypt, which, it had been hoped might become a leading member. Interest in the project died down during preoccupation with Korea and allied problems and was further diminished by British evacuation of the Suez zone which had been predicated as a major METO base.
In 1954 was concluded a Turkish-Pakistani “Agreement for Friendly Co-operation,” which in its provisions for exchange of military information and studies of possibilities of joint action to repel attack was a direct forerunner of the Baghdad Pact. The latter was concluded in early 1955 between Turkey and Iraq as a “Pact of Mutual Co-operation,” which pledged the pair to “co-operate for their security and defence,” bound them to settle disputes peacefully, and to “refrain from any interference whatsoever in each other’s internal affairs.” Although the Arab League states (among others) were invited to accede, only Iraq accepted, and for this act of alleged defection Egypt tried, though unsuccessfully, to have the offender expelled from the League. Iran, Pakistan, and the United Kingdom all joined before the year was out. Manifestly this was, at least on paper, about as loose an alliance as one could imagine, yet it stirred up massive antagonisms in the region. Egypt, in the full flush of explosive chauvinism, wanted no part of any organization in which a leading role was played by its rival Iraq, and it at least pretended to fear that the Pact was a blind for “Western imperialism” and a shield behind which the hated Israel would find protection.
Despite American urging that such a pact be concluded, we refused to join it although we have become a member of its important military, economic, and antisubversion committees and have given considerable amounts of military and economic aid to the members. Unpopular though this abstention was, the United States took the position that for it to accede would merely inflame antagonisms in the region which were already fiery enough. In this attempt one can claim only most moderate success, in view of the obviously continued animosities. In addition, India has been still further embittered by the aid given to Pakistan, and long maintained that this would increase the likelihood of Pakistani seizure of Kashmir; such fears were put in proper perspective when India herself took over the disputed territory. And the United States has put itself in the position of being neither fish nor fowl—a supporter of the alliance, but seemingly unwilling publicly to affirm its paternity of the infant.
The American attitude has become especially anomalous since the July, 1958, Iraqi coup d’état which killed King Feisal and his premier, Nuri es-Said. It was initially assumed that Iraq, as a result of the redirection of its foreign policy which was expected to flow from this upheaval, would withdraw from the Baghdad Pact, but such action was delayed until March, 1959. Thus, if SEATO is a Southeast Asian alliance without Southeast Asia, a parallel has been created in a Baghdad Pact which no longer includes Baghdad.
In an apparent attempt to shore up a faltering pact, Secretary Dulles in January, 1958, announced to the Pact Council that the United States was definitely committed to the defense of the member countries as an emanation of the “Eisenhower Doctrine” or Mid-East Resolution passed by Congress in March 1957, which had declared the United States’ vital interest in the area and this country’s determination to defend it against Communist aggression. Six months later and two weeks after the Iraqi revolution, Mr. Dulles went a step farther and affirmed his country’s full “partnership” although not membership in the Pact, and formally declared the United States’ acceptance of the treaty’s first article which obligates the parties to co-operate for their common defense. Thus we have the obligations of membership without the technical membership itself.
In the succeeding months the U. S. government has been active in drafting new bilateral agreements with Pakistan, Iran, and Turkey for economic and military aid; they were signed, after long negotiation, in March 1959. The Department of State regards them as executive agreements already authorized by the Mid-East Resolution and not as treaties requiring Senate approval. The negotiations were difficult, involving a conflict essentially the same as one that arose in connection with the Manila Pact: the desire of the other parties for a general guarantee of help against aggression, countered by United States insistence on affording aid only against Communist aggression. Washington is clearly uninterested in underwriting the policies and futures of its allies in an area so replete with internal as well as external tensions as to be the very epitome of the proverbial tinder- box.
Years ago it was assumed by many that NATO, METO, and SEATO would all be formally linked and thus forge a chain around all but the northerly borders of the Soviet Union. Clearly this has by no means been executed, and yet something roughly equivalent has taken place, with the interlocking membership of Turkey in both NATO and Baghdad, and that of Pakistan in Baghdad and SEATO, and United States support of all three. This, however, relates more to form than to substance. With Baghdad as with SEATO, one asks whether it has accomplished its purposes. The answer must be mixed. While direct Soviet aggression has not taken place in the Middle East—a fact for which Baghdad may take some credit—it is equally apparent that in the years since 1955 the Soviet Union has politically and economically hurdled the “northern tier” fence and for the first time in history has gained that end which British diplomacy for generations had prevented; an apparently firm foothold in the strategically important Middle East. This the Baghdad Pact obviously failed to forestall.
What can one say by way of appraisal of the over-all success of the United States’ alliance policy? Clearly with regard to the NATO area there are very real achievements and NATO is a going concern, even though one in which family squabbles periodically assume serious aspects. As to the Middle and Far East, it appears to us that our allies have good grounds for believing that their American partner has the resolution and probably the power to defend them against attack, and this is assuredly a most important underpinning of the alliance. Yet having said this, one must also grant that the commitments undertaken by the United States in the Middle and Far East are indeed immense, and one can doubt, in this age of rapidly developing military technology, whether the United States does indeed have the power that would surely deter or repel an attack. Any loss of confidence in the United States’ intention or ability to make good on its pledges will almost certainly impel the neutralist states, and possibly others, to scramble for cover under the protection of the proffered Soviet wing. And in this regard Americans should recall that although their government moved decisively to counter aggression in Korea in 1950, its action in Indochina in 1954 was by no means so clear-cut and has therefore given rise to doubts as to what its future reactions might be.
We must bear in mind the fact that many, indeed most, of our Middle and Far Eastern allies are governments whose military strength, often somewhat unimpressive in itself, is in turn founded upon what is at best an uncertain economic base. It is also true that major countries in the regions under consideration are either antagonistic to United States policy, or at best lukewarm toward it. One thinks immediately of Egypt in the first category, and of India in the second. Surely it requires little argument to convince one that a Southeast Asian alliance without the participation of India, Indonesia, and Burma is by no means one of maximum potential strength, either militarily or psychologically.
The Manila and Baghdad Pacts do have value for us, though it is by no means limitless. They do have the effect of “showing the flag” and thus reminding the Soviet Union of our interest and intentions in these areas; herein, in addition to the few bases acquired, lies a certain value as a deterrent to Soviet aggressive impulses. Not only that, but as a corollary, the Pacts, if well implemented, presumably may bring about second thoughts on the part of wavering neutralists who feel a temptation to drift into the Communist orbit. Still and all, the essentially restricted quantity of aid and strength given us probably means that the utility of the alliances would be greatest in limited as contrasted with all-out war. Furthermore, we need perennially to guard against practicing the so-called logic of the man who read so much about the dangers of smoking that he swore off reading. We speak glibly of the sorry economic plight of the regions herein discussed and of the tendency of such conditions to breed Communists —and yet our tendency is not to follow through on the logic and not to afford the very economic aid which may remedy those Communist-breeding conditions. We must never allow ourselves to forget that indispensable as armed forces are for some purposes, they are very nearly useless in combatting the type of political and economic infiltrations the Soviet Union has been practicing during these last five years.
It has often been suggested that in such cases as those here discussed, a formal alliance was hardly necessary and that a less precise but more flexible bilateral understanding might accomplish the end in view. This attitude has in general been rejected by the Eisenhower administration, but one observes a tendency in that direction in our affiliation with the Baghdad Pact. In this regard we may be standing on the threshold of a new departure in our foreign policy. Of far greater importance is the supplementing of the military defense agreements with increased sums of economic assistance essential if we are to engage successfully in the competitive coexistence race to which Khrushchev has challenged us. Additionally, and perennially, the United States is faced with the imperative necessity to develop and maintain a sense of mutuality of interests in the non-Soviet sphere.
* The opinions or assertions in this article are the personal ones of the author and are not to be construed as official or as the views of either the Navy Department or the U. S. Naval Institute.