James C. Thomson

I, FOR ONE, would feel a lot happier if James C. Thomson were Secretary of State.

Now an assistant professor of History here, Thomson spent seven years in Washington--as an assistant to Chester Bowles and later as an East Asian expert in the State Department and the White House--trying to wield what influence he could in the formulation of American policies in Asia.

Through his lectures in History 171 and during his testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in February, Thomson has expressed the need for a rethinking of our China policy. He favors "taking all necessary steps toward recognition of China." The failure of policy-makers within the government to come to grips with this problem, Thomson explains, is one of the reasons he left Washington in mid-1965.

In last month's Atlantic, Thomson tells of some of the bureaucratic difficulties of decision-making. The article attempts to account for State Department policy in terms of the motivations of the men that make it.

Thomson discusses the problems of "executive fatigue" and the inertia and "curator mentalities" of many officials as crucial factors in our Vietnam and larger Asian policy. He tells of the "domestication of dissenters" (one employer, Thomson wrote, used to refer to him as his "favorite dove"). And he describes the "effectiveness trap" which "keeps men from speaking out, as clearly or often as they might," in order "to preserve their effectiveness" as another factor leading to the kind of freezing of ideas that is so prevalent in Washington.

Although the reaction to his article was over-whelmingly congratulatory (John Kenneth Gal-braith, in a letter to the Atlantic, said it was the finest political article he had read in many years), Thomson said he had received one letter from a former top-ranking Washington policy-maker, criticizing him for breaking the faith and trust of internal governmental activity.

"I don't agree that service under a President requires you to keep faith forever with that President even when he is leading the nation to the brink of disaster," Thomson said. "At that point I would invoke a higher ethic."

THOMSON takes a very critical stand about United States policy towards Asia. He says we have "over-militarized all our Asian commitments," of which Vietnam is only the most costly and most obvious example.

He would like to see us get out of Vietnam by "talking the issue to death." His hope is that "both sides will become entrapped in the negotiating process."

"Negotiations are like a compression chamber," Thomson says. "Once you get in it, the pressure comes from all sides to reduce your grandiose objectives. And it also becomes very hard to break off talks once you have started them. I think all of us should press very hard for talks.

"I am in favor of anything that would reduce the polarized situation that we are now in, anything that will allow us an umbrella for graceful withdrawal," he continues. "The look of the situation is more important than the content. If the look is ungraceful or dishonorable we may face really severe recriminations at home, and that would be really tragic."

The "look" of the situation gave Thomson some difficult moments earlier this month. "I decided not to sign the CRIMSON advertisement," Thomson said, referring to a two-page Faculty Statement in support of draft resisters, "because of the March 31 speech. It struck me that it was inappropriate at a time when the government is on a 'peace' track to offer encouragement for those who are attempting to resist that government. I found that a very difficult decision to make."

But he said he had "tremendous respect" for the courage of those who are willing to go to jail, and is "willing to give all forms of support for their reintegration into American society once they have paid the price for breaking the law."

THOMSON brings an interesting background to the study of American-East Asian relations. The son of American missionaries in China, he spent most of his formative years in China.

"But those years would have been a pleasant nostalgic blur," he said, had he not gone back to China in 1948, the year before he entered Yale. "I went ostensibly to attend the University of Nanking, but that fall the roof fell in."

When the Civil War spread to Nanking, Thomson and an American friend covered four or five thousand miles traveling around China "by every conveyance known to man."

"That year," Thomson said, "got me refocused on East Asian matters. I came back with a desire to get rooted in U.S.-East Asian relations, and to begin to work on the China problem."

Thomson's four years at Yale were mostly spent at the Yale Daily News, which he edited as a senior. "The chairman controlled editorial policy," Thomson said with a smile, "so although most of our members were conservative Republicans, we came out eloquently for Adlai Stevenson in 1952."

Two years at Cambridge, England followed and then Thomson came to Harvard to work for his doctorate under Professor Fairbank. Before completing his thesis, however, he went to Washington to work for Chester Bowles in 1958, for whom he had previously worked during Bowles' congressional campaign. Thomson's thesis--on U.S.-China relations in the 1930's--was finished "on nights and weekends" in Washington.

From that work, Thomson said, he got interested in "how good and how bad we are in forming gradualist alternatives to underdeveloped countries." An expanded version of his thesis topic will be coming out in book form next year. Thomson is presently working on a study on "how we made policy toward East Asia in 1930's juxtaposed with how we make policy in the 60's."

"I want to juxtapose whatever elements of continuity or discontinuity caused us to do good things and bad things toward Asia," Thomson said, "and see if I can't come up with some useful suggestions for the future."

"I'm fascinated," Thomson explained, "by our idea of exporting benevolence. Before World War II, our relations were on a personal, small foundation scale. But after the war, these private groups still existed but have become very much submerged by the state. We have secularized our benevolence and put it under a strong central government with the flag totally engaged."

Thomson thinks that the best road for the future might be a playing-down of our "overseas monolithic commitment." He said that we should do in foreign affairs "what we are trying to do in domestic affairs--creating a series of small Peace-Corps-type operations."

ABOUT the future course of U.S.-East Asian relations, Thomson admits to being "not as pessimistic as I was a few months ago." He feels that America's experience in Vietnam will produce a "look-before-we-leap" attitude for future initiatives in Asia.

"There may be a tendency to over-react," he said, "but I don't think a retreat into isolationism is a real danger. I do not believe that we have no interests in Asia, and the alternative to over-investment is not total withdrawal. We have to seek a systematic withdrawal and de-militarization of our commitment, and simultaneously try to introduce Soviet and Japanese influence to mix in with our presence."

Will he return to Washington? "I don't see the yen returning for five or ten years," Thomson said, "I would like to consider my real base as academic life rather than bureaucratic life.

"And besides, I find the present generation of undergraduates infinitely more interesting and promising than the generation of politicians and bureaucrats."