In his significant “four options” speech which he delivered at the James V. Forrestal Memorial Awards dinner in March 1964, Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara outlined the policy alternatives open to the United States as it considers how best to pursue its national objectives in South Vietnam. Rejecting outright such solutions as withdrawal, or neutralization of South Vietnam, he left the door open for the third option: attacks against North Vietnam whence come the direction and support of the Viet Cong campaign south of the 17th Parallel. The fourth course of action, and the one which President Lyndon B. Johnson approved after considering all factors, was to intensify efforts to help the South Vietnamese win the battle against Communist insurgency within their own country.
In the subsequent months, the United States did its best to carry out this decision and to confine the conflict within the borders of South Vietnam. It stepped up its already large program of economic and military assistance. It gave renewed attention to the problem of developing the necessary counterinsurgency techniques to defeat the Viet Cong’s accelerated campaign of terrorism.
Then, in early August 1964, Communist North Vietnamese PT boats launched what still appears to be a totally irrational attack against U. S. destroyers on the high seas. They did this not once, but twice, within as many days. Our government replied promptly and sharply with retaliatory air strikes against the PT boats themselves, their home ports, and their main source of fuel, the storage tanks at Vinh. Concurrently the Department of Defense began precautionary deployments of air and naval forces to forward Western Pacific bases as a deterrent to possible Communist escalation. These actions, which combined an awesome display of U. S. mobile military striking power with the tempered restraint of the precisely targeted military response, served their purpose. The war in Southeast Asia did not expand. The conflict remained confined to the borders of South Vietnam, and although intensified, continued to be essentially a contest of two Cold War strategies: that of advisory warfare vs. sanctuary warfare.
As we undertake an analysis of these two competing strategies there is a great temptation to relate this discussion exclusively to the current situation in South Vietnam. It is perhaps more useful, however, to avoid such specifics, despite all their local color, and attempt instead to evolve general principles and techniques which are likely to be applicable in other areas far removed from Vietnam and Southeast Asia. These principles should be equally pertinent elsewhere in the Far East, Africa, or Latin America. Of course, their application will not follow any pat formula—the timing and emphasis will vary according to the local situation. A knowledge of their characteristics, however, will help us when we meet similar problems in different environments.
While sanctuary warfare is not a new concept, it has been refined a great deal since World War II. Consequently an examination of the techniques which the Communists are currently using in this type of Cold War is in order. Next, the many complexities of advisory warfare—complexities which the United States can expect to encounter in one form or another wherever it pools its efforts with those of an ally in a common cause—must be noted. Finally, there should emerge from this discussion some practical guidelines which may help our country to maximize the results of its national efforts as it moves from one battlefield to the next in the defense of freedom.
In 1961, President John F. Kennedy and the Joint Chiefs of Staff focused high-level attention on the matter of defeating Communist insurgency. After careful analysis, they concluded that the problem was essentially an internal security matter, capable of being dealt with within the borders of the country concerned. Counter-insurgency plans were prepared on that basis. It was recognized, however, that guerrilla forces would be extremely difficult to defeat and that any war would be a long drawn-out affair as long as these forces enjoy a sanctuary just across the frontier where they can flee if pursued, replenish their supplies if they run low, or convalesce if they are wounded. We are learning the hard way that insurgency is really a vicious forward extension of sanctuary warfare.
Experience since World War II indicates that Communist insurgencies are most successful when they are based on a contiguous Communist state. When this condition did not exist, as was the case in Malaya, Indonesia, and the Philippines, the uprisings against the lawful government failed. In the 1946-49 civil war in Greece, as long as the Communists had a secure base and a dependable source of resupply across the border in Yugoslavia, their campaign produced results. When Tito broke with his Soviet masters, he withdrew his support from the insurgents and sealed his border with Greece. Once he did this, it did not take the Greek Army long to suppress the guerrillas.
To take another example, the turning point in the French Indochina war came after the cease-fire in Korea. This truce permitted the Chinese Communists to shift large quantities of excess war materials to southern Yunnan and Kwangsi provinces where they were turned over to General Giap’s Viet Minh forces operating on the other side of the frontier. The French made a major effort to seal the border with Red China, constructing a series of northern forts at Caobang, Dong Khe, Langsuan, and Tien Yen. Between October 1950 and January 1951, however, these strongpoints were overrun one by one. When they fell, the French lost control of the main supply routes from China into the Red River delta and, as a result, every day the Viet Minh became a better equipped fighting force. Soon they were able to organize their guerrillas into regular and even “heavy” divisions. The latter, patterned after the Soviet model, included two artillery and one engineer regiment in addition to their infantry regiments. These were the divisions that finally overwhelmed the storied Dien Bien Phu, thereby forcing France to the Geneva conference table in 1954.
The French later ran into the same sort of problem in Algiers. There they were faced with not one, but two sanctuaries. The FLN had its main bases in both Morocco on the West and Tunisia on the East. The French went to great lengths to cut these lines of supply. The famous “Maurice Line”—more than 400 kilometers of electrified barbed wire—was built along the eastern border to prevent infiltration from Tunis. These Draconian measures were started too late. French public opinion at home demanded an end to the war. DeGaulle recognized this and, overruling the objections of the French army, he reached a settlement with the rebel leaders which accepted their demands for independence from France.
Turning again to Southeast Asia, the United States learned another bitter lesson there after the 1954 Geneva Agreement was signed. Instead of bringing peace to the area as had been hoped, the agreement actually facilitated Communist insurgency operations. As soon as Vietnam was partitioned along the 17th Parallel, the Communists began shifting their privileged sanctuaries forward as a part of their master plan to gain control of all Southeast Asia. North Vietnam, now called the Democratic Republic of Vietnam, replaced Red China as the sanctuary for operations against free South Vietnam. Similarly, in Laos, the 1954 Geneva Agreement left the Communist Pathet Lao in full charge of the two northern provinces, Phong Saly and Sam Neua. These quickly became sanctuaries supporting a stepped-up Pathet Lao military and subversive campaign against the rest of Laos.
In the days before World War II, when an insurgency was supported from a contiguous country the normal practice was for that country to stoutly disavow any complicity in the rebellion. Thus, it maintained its “privileged sanctuary” position primarily through a diplomatic fiction which was difficult to refute with hard evidence. After the intervention of the Chinese Communists’ “Peoples’ Volunteers” in Korea, however, privileged sanctuary became an accepted term in the lexicon of limited war. The United States treated the northern border of Korea as the geographic limit of military actions. When General MacArthur objected publicly to these political restraints on his combat operations, he was relieved of his command and recalled to Washington.
This episode established a new Cold War precedent. It enabled a sanctuary state to maintain its inviolability not by feigning innocence or through any military capability of its own, but by invoking the threat of direct Soviet intervention. This technique was effective because the prospect of such intervention called forth that macabre specter of the nuclear age—a rapid, uncontrolled escalation of conflict through limited war into an all-out thermonuclear exchange. Whether the Soviet Union—now that its hand has been called in Cuba—will be able to use the threat of escalation to inhibit Free World countermeasures in the future, remains to be seen.
The sanctuary need not always be a Communist state. There have been instances when an adjoining “neutral” country has provided an excellent base for insurgency operations. When this happens, it can usually be shown that the neutral government has been preconditioned with heavy doses of the standard line that “Communism is the wave of the future.” As a result, in its efforts to straddle the fence between East and West, this neutral nation generally acts like the three monkeys who “see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil” as far as Communist military operations conducted from its territory are concerned.
Sometimes the neutral country involved is just not able to exercise positive control over its own frontiers. In these circumstances, it is frequently more expedient for the Communists simply to buy off the province chiefs in the key border areas and use only part of the neutral nation as a sanctuary. This has the advantage of making it even easier for the local chief of state to denounce as slander any accusations that he is not following a policy of true neutrality.
When Communist infiltration from its neutral sanctuary forces the defending nation to deploy troops to increase its border security, the Communists immediately sound the tocsin and make great propaganda over any military activity along the frontiers. If this is not sufficient, they do not hesitate to fabricate incidents near the boundary to keep world attention focused on these alleged border violations rather than on the true issue—the illegal use of Communist bases within the “neutral” sanctuary.
What sanctuary warfare amounts to, then, is the conduct of insurgency from bases in a neighboring country which, for political reasons, enjoys immunity against military countermeasures. While it is usually conducted from a contiguous state, the concept has been extended in recent years to include island nations located adjacent to key mainland areas which are targets for Communist subversion. Obvious examples are Cuba, in the heart of the Caribbean, and Zanzibar, just off the eastern coast of Africa.
While the problems of infiltration from an island sanctuary into nearby countries are more complicated than those presented by a Southeast Asian jungle border, they are not in any sense insurmountable. It is comparatively simple to use private planes and small fishing boats to smuggle key cadre and non-bulk supplies in and out. Sometimes this whole process of infiltration can be facilitated by routing it to the target area through “third countries” whose governments, being unwilling to provoke their local Communist Parties into a retaliatory stroke or civil disturbance, find it expedient to have their immigration and customs officials look the other way.
Now if the territory of a Communist state can be used as a sanctuary for insurgency operations against its neighbor, then logically there appears to be no reason why this same principle should not work both ways. Unfortunately, the double-edged sword possibilities of sanctuary warfare have not deterred the Communists in the least. Perhaps the reason for this is that since the end of World War II, world opinion has been conditioned to accept the Communist ground rules for fighting the Cold War. These postulate that all Bloc territory is a “peace zone” and the rest of the earth is a “war zone.” Under the concept of Marx and Lenin, the Communists have a free license to pursue limited aggression in any form in the “war zone,” but it is entirely against the rules for the Free World to disturb the peace in the “peace zone.”
To date Western nations have yet to undertake offensive insurgency operations from territory under their control on a scale that would seriously threaten any Bloc country. On the rare occasion when Free World governments have attempted tentative or preliminary efforts of this sort, the Communist propaganda machine at once portrays them as major threats to world peace. When this happens, even these small beginnings have been discontinued in order to take the steam out of the enemy’s propaganda barrage and restore the “peaceful image” of the West.
Advisory warfare is far more difficult and complex than sanctuary warfare. This is because in the latter, command is positive and direct. Orders are issued through well-established Communist Party channels. Response is prompt and disciplined. In advisory warfare, on the other hand, there is no direct control. Actions are taken freely by the host country based on its private assessment of its own self-interest and on the logic and persuasiveness of the advice offered.
The more we learn about fighting Communist insurgency the more we realize that it is not just a matter of chasing and killing guerrillas. True, the provision of security to the peasant farmer living in his rural hamlet is the sine qua non of victory, but the military effort alone is not sufficient to win the allegiance of the people. Parallel and concurrent battles must be waged on the civilian side against poverty, disease, maladministration, and ignorance. These require nation-wide programs of the first magnitude which must be synchronized with the military campaign if they are to contribute to its success. A well-trained armed force can, without too much difficulty, sweep through a given area clearing it of enemy guerrillas. But it is the representatives of the civilian ministries, following close behind the combat troops, who must bring the resources of the central government to bear directly on the needs of the villager. It is this absolutely essential follow-on civilian effort—often overlooked in the excitement of battle—that enables the government to win the lasting gratitude and support of the rural populations. In the final analysis, it is the loyal peasant, working with and providing information to the army, who makes it possible for the government to “hold” the areas which the military have cleared,
American support for this “clear and hold” strategy involves many complex and interrelated activities. To bring them all together and to focus them on a common set of priorities and objectives is a difficult task. Thus, we find that the starting point of advisory warfare is the organization of a combined civilian-military U. S. “advisory element” within the foreign country. The senior member of this element is the U. S. ambassador. He has the responsibility of co-ordinating the diverse and sometimes conflicting activities of all agencies of the U. S. government operating in the country. In most countries, the ambassador makes use of a mechanism called the Country Team to help him effect this co- ordination. This increasingly important “team” includes senior representatives from the Department of State; the Military Advisory and Assistance Group, or the senior military command in the area; the Agency for International Development, and the United States Information Service. To all intents and purposes, it constitutes the “general staff” for advisory warfare.
The size of the total advisory element presents an immediate and continuing problem. Experience gained during Major General James A. Van Fleet’s military advisory mission to Greece in 1947 and confirmed subsequently in Vietnam shows that the effectiveness of U. S. advice increases as our representatives are deployed down to the grass roots level—that is to say, outside the capital into the rural villages or attached to the combat infantry battalions. As this criterion is met, the size of the advisory element necessarily grows by leaps and bounds. And, inevitably, as the number of advisory personnel in the field increases, more U. S. support personnel are required in the rear areas. From the very beginning, therefore, Parkinson’s Law poses a real threat to the success of the entire operation. Unless the responsible authorities are alert and ruthless in attacking the constantly growing overhead of their assistance programs, the whole effort might very well degenerate into a situation where the bulk of the U. S. personnel in the country are simply “taking in one another’s laundry.”
Once an efficient balance is established between advisory and support personnel, the clement can then turn its full attention to its advisory mission. Its ultimate success will hinge largely on its ability to solve two main problems. Both of these are problems in human relations and communications—-using the latter term in its broadcast sense. The advisory element’s first task is to develop an understanding of the point of view of the host country so that it can “communicate” with the local government officials from the ministerial down to the hamlet level. Secondly, it must develop the technique of successfully “communicating” to its superiors in Washington an understanding of the true situation in the field. Ultimately, of course, the terminal points of both aspects of this entire communication process are people: the people of the country whose government is accepting our aid and advice, and the people at home in the United States.
President Kennedy understood the first problem well. In his oft quoted 29 May 1961 letter to all Ambassadors, he emphasized the need to close this communications gap in our relationships with our friends abroad:
The practice of modern diplomacy requires a close understanding not only of governments but also of people, their cultures and institutions. Therefore, I hope that you will plan your work so that you may have the time to travel extensively outside the nation’s capital. Only in this way can you develop the close personal associations that go beyond official diplomatic circles and maintain a sympathetic and accurate understanding of all segments of the country.
Moreover, the improved understanding which is so essential to a more peaceful and rational world is a two-way street. It is our task not only to understand what motivates others, but to give them a better understanding of what motivates us.
Only when the United States has developed such an understanding will its representatives be able to work effectively with the local armed forces and the local civilian officials. Thus, what our advisory element needs most is the ability to convey its suggestions to our ally in a clear, credible fashion so that both parties can quickly reach accord as to the goals and procedures to be followed.
Overseas our advisory element has two means of communicating with the local population. It does this indirectly through its official daily contacts with members of the executive branch of the host government; and it does it directly as a result of the personal actions of every member of the advisory element and their families as they move throughout the country in the conduct of their daily affairs. The net effect of this second, or direct means of communication far exceeds that of the first, and varies directly with the size of the advisory element present.
Establishment of the official, day-to-day communications with the local government starts, at least initially, from a fairly wide degree of common interest. Both sides recognize that the country concerned is under attack and that the United States has come to help. Both know that Communist aggression can take various forms. It can either expand into a direct Communist military attack, it can continue as an insurgency, or it can degenerate into a form of political harassment seeking to exploit the existing local conditions of poverty and underdevelopment. In any event, when the U. S. element arrives, there is no doubt that its mission is to help the country defend its freedom and to help improve the general well-being of the people. From this favorable beginning, the ability of the advisory personnel to work with the host government can be expected, under normal circumstances, to grow and develop. This will depend, however, upon the extent to which they exhibit such essential qualities as human sympathy, understanding, and respect toward their counterparts. Too, they must have a true appreciation of how the local situation looks to the indigenous government. Lastly, they must be consistent in the advice they proffer. This last point is often overlooked in the hustle and bustle of our advisory effort. It is usually unintentional and stems primarily from the rapid turnover of U. S. officials in the field—the outgrowth of a personnel policy which is endemic to the American scene, but which bewilders our most loyal allies and complicates our own problems no end.
As to the second task, that of “communicating” with our own government, the advisory element must not only get its ideas across to the Executive Branch, but, at the same time, try to help the U. S. press, through its correspondents on the scene, to present an accurate, balanced picture to the American people. Communication with the Executive Branch is an extremely difficult, but important process in the formation of national policy. It requires U. S. representatives abroad to exercise a high order of judgment in their reporting, to display great skill in articulating their views, and to have a sophisticated understanding of how the interdepartmental machine in Washington works. The more effectively they perform this task the more helpful they will be to the high officials in Washington whose frequent public statements on the progress of the war have a significant impact and influence on the thinking of the American public.
The advisory element’s other channel of communication to the American people is through the American press. This is a complex and unpredictable channel. Daily reports filed by American correspondents from the country concerned create in the minds of the American readers a mental image of the total character of its government and people—including its reliability as an ally and its general “willingness to fight” for its own freedom. They also create a public image of the U. S. officials who are operating in that country. If the press is not sympathetic or does not understand the problems our ally faces, its reporting can do irreparable harm to official U. S. relations with the foreign state. It can also raise doubts as to the validity of statements made by the responsible U. S. officials on the scene, thereby undermining their usefulness as well as their morale.
In the final analysis, however, establishment of effective communications with the United States government is virtually impossible unless there exists a clear-cut policy for the country concerned, loyally supported by all representatives of the Executive Branch who are working either in the foreign capital or back in Washington. To be meaningful to our own people or to our ally, this policy must be based on our traditional principles. It should not be of such pragmatic subtlety that it can only be implemented through the “use of mirrors.” It must be realistic, but at the same time, simple and understandable. It should form the basis for an agreed interagency program at the Washington level which will then be transmitted to the field in the form of wise, mutually supporting instructions sent out through the appropriate departmental channels.
Barriers to effective communication both with the host government and with the U. S. government are, like static on the radio, always present. They include, for example, interagency rivalry either in Washington or in the field; public debate over the U. S. policy toward the country concerned, which usually results in a suspension of support for approved programs pending resolution of the dispute; impatience on the part of the Americans in the advisory element with the progress of their own pet programs; “third country” interests (e.g., France’s residual commercial and cultural activities in South Vietnam); and the constant Communist propaganda, spread either directly through normal information media or indirectly through front organizations overseas or in the United States. But, like static, if these problems are recognized promptly and dealt with intelligently within the framework of clear national policy, they can be dampened down to a tolerable “background noise level.”
The complexities of advisory warfare, only partially outlined above, illustrate the extent of our country’s problem as we seek to match the subtle techniques of this strategy against the callous tactics of Communist sanctuary warfare. In a contest of this sort, where the prestige and leadership of the United States are so heavily committed in key, widely separated areas of the world, the most important factors in final victory will be America’s determination and staying power.
Since there is no reason to expect that the pattern of Communist aggression in Southeast Asia will not be repeated in other theaters of the Cold War, our answer at this point in history hinges upon the effectiveness of our advisory warfare efforts. How can these be maximized? First, we must make a real effort to understand the situation in our ally’s country as he sees it and—whether we agree with his analysis or not—conduct our advisory efforts with a liberal measure of human sympathy toward his point of view as he wrestles with his local political problems. Secondly, we must have faith in our own programs for the country concerned and exhibit confidence in the U. S. officials whom we have charged with the heavy responsibility for their implementation. Finally we must remain loyal to our allies, showing tolerance and patience toward their way of doing things in their own land.
We cannot remind ourselves too often that the world today is engaged in a basic conflict of political systems; one based on maximizing the freedom of the individual, the other on maximizing the power of the state. It is a contest which will not be decided in our lifetime. When the battle flags are finally furled, however, we can be sure that victory will be on the side that has demonstrated the greatest endurance and guts.