The March of Folly_ From Troy to Vietnam - Barbara Wertheim Tuchman [196]
Public response to the campaign of Goldwater the hawk denouncing a “no win” policy versus Johnson the peacemaker flowed steadily one way. After World War II and Korea, and in the shadow of the atomic bomb, Americans, however anti-Communist, wanted no war. Women especially were to vote disproportionately for Johnson, testifying to the reservoir of antiwar sentiment. The Administration might have taken heed but did not, because it never stopped believing its troubles would come from the right.
While giving one signal to voters, Johnson had to give another of fiercer intent to Hanoi in the hope of holding back a challenge, at least until after the election. Naval units in the Gulf of Tonkin, including the destroyer Maddox, soon so notorious, went beyond intelligence gathering to “destructive” action against the coast, which was supposed to convey a message to Hanoi to “desist from aggressive policies.” The real message, which by now virtually everyone believed necessary, was to be American bombing.
Johnson, Rusk, McNamara and General Taylor flew to Honolulu in June for a meeting with Ambassador Lodge and CINCPAC to consider a program of American air action and the probable next step of ground combat. The rationale for the bombing was two-thirds political: to bolster the sinking morale in South Vietnam, strongly urged by Lodge, and to break the will to fight of the North Vietnamese and cause them to cease supporting the Viet-Cong insurgency and ultimately to negotiate. The military aim was to stop infiltration and supply. Recommendations and caveats were tossed and turned and argued, for the planners were not eager for belligerency in a civil conflict in Asia, even while pretending it was “external aggression.” The underlying need, given the rapid failing of the South, was to redress the military balance so that the United States should not negotiate from weakness. Until that could be achieved, any move toward negotiations “would have been an admission that the game was up.”
As it was bound to, the uncomfortable question of nuclear weapons came up without arousing anyone’s advocacy. The only case in which their use was even theoretically contemplated was against the vast peril, as it was seen, of the Communist Chinese if they should be provoked into entering the war. Secretary Rusk, whose adrenaline always rose on that subject, believed that in view of China’s enormous population, “we could not allow ourselves to be bled white fighting them with conventional weapons.” This meant that if escalation brought about a major Chinese attack, “it would also involve use of nuclear arms.” He was nevertheless aware that Asian leaders opposed it, seeing in it an element of racial discrimination, “something we would do to Asians but not to Westerners.” Possible circumstances of tactical use were briefly discussed. General Earle Wheeler, new Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, was unenthusiastic; Secretary McNamara said he “could not imagine a case where they would be considered,” and the matter was dropped.
Operational plans for the bombing were drawn, but the order for action postponed, for while the election still lay ahead, Johnson’s peace image had to be protected. The graver question of ground combat was left in abeyance until a dependable government could be installed in the political shambles of Saigon. Further, as General Taylor pointed out, the American public would have to be educated to appreciate the United States interest in Southeast Asia. Secretary McNamara, with his usual precision, thought this “would require at least thirty days,” as if it were a matter of selling the public a new model automobile.
Johnson was intensely nervous about expanding American belligerency for fear of precipitating intervention by the Chinese. Nevertheless, if escalation was inevitable, he wanted a Congressional