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The official reaction of the United States to the course of recent world events is reminiscent of the advice to an unfortunate, "Cheer up; things could be worse." So he did and they were. At present, any developments in the Formosa crisis offer alternatives which can turn out only bad or worse for U.S. interests. Unfortunately, the Administration has chosen what seems to be the worse path.
In his speech to the nation on the Formosa Straits situation, President Eisenhower committed the country to the defense of Quemoy and Matsu should negotiations prove fruitless, and declared simultaneously that any such parleys could lead to no agreement "prejudicing" the position of Chiang Kai-Shek. Little else could be said in a public pronouncement, for surely the U.S. could not announce that it would yield to Red China's show of force. But no public pronouncement would have been better than one in which the President hamstrung the country between the militarism of Mao Tse-Tung and the intransigence of Chiang.
The President partially justified his stand by recalling the follies of appeasement and stated that there would be no repeat of Munich in the present crisis. But the coastal islands three miles off the mainland cannot be compared in strategic or moral importance to what in 1938 was the most democratic and strongest free nation in Central Europe. Military experts have testified that Matsu and besieged Quemoy are not important to the defense of Formosa, which lies about 100 miles further east. They possess significant military value only as offensive bridgeheads.
But outside of Formosa only the most reactionary visionaries can conceive of a successful invasion of the mainland. Chiang has affirmed that he believes total war is the only way to deal with the Communists; in the holacaust of a large-scale conflict involving the United States, he gambles on retaking China.
It was the present Administration which encouraged Chiang to commit about one third of his forces on the coastal islands after Eisenhower decided to "unleash" the Nationalists in 1953; and now the country is told that because the troops are on Quemoy and Matsu, the islands must be defended. Eisenhower and Dulles have let slip Chiang's leash just enough to allow him to drag us into a possible war--one which might spread and which we might face without allies.
The progress of the negotiations at Warsaw do not offer much hope for encouragement either, especially with harsh communiques further clouding the air. The President has promised that no agreement prejudicing the Taipei government will result, and Chiang declares he will not accept even demilitarization of the area. These statements leave little room for negotiation.
In fact, the Warsaw talks have merely shown the double standard the U.S. employs in dealing with the regime which governs more people than any other. We will send an ambassador to parley with Red China's, but we will not recognize the Communist government. Although we officially dispute Red China's claim that the quarrel over the coastal islands is an internal affair, we do not recognize the Communists as a separate belligerent, but rather as a faction temporarily in control of the mainland.
It is the Administration's blindness to reality that is primarily responsible for our dilemma in the Far East. Chiang rules Formosa and Mao, the mainland. Americans and Allies would probably agree to defend Taiwan. Aside from the Kuomintang exiles, seven million Formosan natives and Chinese refugees, who fled from the despotism of the Communist government, deserve to be protected from conquest and annexation. Drawing the line, however, over two tiny outposts at swimming distance from mainland China is tragically inane. American diplomats should pressure Chiang to withdraw his coastal forces to Formosa and concede to the Communists the use of the now bottled-up Amoy and Foochow harbors, if Mao suspends military activities. At present, though, Chiang's blockading of Amoy and Foochow is an act of war equivalent to the recent Communist counter-blockade of Quemoy.
The policy that should have been adopted toward Red China when she was better behaved--recognition, as well as containment--would appear at the moment as cowardly retreat. But an offer to recognize the Peiping regime in the near future as the government of mainland China and permit it to sit in the U.N. as such would be a powerful bargaining point. In return, the U.S. should demand that Red China submit to U.N. arbitration or a supervised demilitarization of the Straits.
The Administration and both parties should start the task of explaining to most Americans that recognition of Red China is neither cowardly, immoral, nor an approval of Mao's regime, but rather an advantage in dealing directly with a force the U.S. wishes to curtail in power and size. At this point we can salvage little, but our present policy can very well lose us everything--including our allies and a precarious peace.
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