The Thieu Regime-Great Expectations

MANY SOUTH VIETNAMESE opponents of the Thieu regime were skeptical of the American rationale for negotiations. They could not reconcile the American desire to prevent Vietnam from falling into the hands of "World Communism" with the United State's insistence on negotiations with the communists to break the battlefield deadlock. Ironically, even Thieu was fond of saying that the Americans lost patience at the most inopportune moments.

The Vietnamese also have limited amounts of patience, especially in dealing with each other. Not all of the villains in Vietnamese history have been foreigners. In the past, Americans had no exposure to Vietnamese literature, and it was difficult to comprehend how the Vietnamese viewed the internal fabric of their society and what themes they found controversial. The best known story in Vietnam, The Tale of Kieu, by the 19th century writer Nguyen Du, recounts the plight of a girl forced to leave her home to become a prostitute in order to secure the money needed to pay for the release of her parents who had been unjustly harassed by the Imperial authorities. Huynh Sanh Tong's translation of The Tale of Kieu (Vintage paperback, $1.95) offers the American reader a unique perspective of Vietnamese life.

Some Americans who have read The Tale of Kieu in French have objected to its "unhappy" ending. Although Kieu had pledged to marry the scholar Kim Trong, she found upon her return from 15 years adrift that she could not sustain more than a platonic relationship. At the time the disaster struck Kieu's family, Kim had been performing mourning rites for a relative in a distant province for several years. Kieu's parents and her sister Van, whom she had asked to marry Kim before she left home, insisted that Kieu follow through with her marriage pledge. Kieu finally acquiesced after Kim agreed to limit their relationship.

The only happy moment during Kieu's 15-year ordeal was her marriage to the rebel chieftain Tu Hai. Although he permitted her to take retribution against her wrongdoers, she did so with a sense of toleration for those whose apparent malicious intent sprang, in fact, from their observance of social mores. When the Imperial authorities offered rewards and a prestigious position at court in exchange for Tu Hai's surrender, Kieu urged him to accept. Although Tu Hai had never lost a battle, he lost his life when he took Kieu's advice.

Each experience tried Kieu's emotions, but she always managed to escape unscathed. Before tragedy had befallen her family, she had had a vision of the unhappiness that awaited her. She did not question her fate; hers was a filial devotion which went beyond her concern for herself. After 15 years of such undeserved suffering, Kieu could reasonably have become embittered. On the contrary, she was no longer her somber self. Although past harm had left its mark on her, Kieu did not resist a tranquil life when, at last, it came within her reach.

IT IS Kieu's spirit which draws the admiration of today's Vietnamese. Times have changed since Nguyen Du's era, and there are no longer any imperial authorities to inflict injustices. New modes of thought and government have emerged, but all that remains unchanged is man's suffering.

With such thoughts in mind, I traveled to Paris briefly in September to conduct some interviews concerning Vietnam. I was particularly anxious to meet some North Vietnamese and Provisional Revolutionary Government officials and to discuss the negotiations which had ended in January.

I met on two occasions with the North Vietnamese press attache, Siphan. The embassy building was quite modest, and the guards at the door were dressed in Western-style business suits--just as they appeared on television during the peace talks. While I was also dressed quite formally, Siphan's attire was casual and his manner relaxed. Seeing him relieved my anxieties.

Throughout our conversation, Siphan insisted that the United States and the Saigon regime fulfill their end of the January bargain. He asserted that the Saigon government could not stand without U.S. aid. An aid cutoff would have an important but not decisive influence on events in the South. Siphan said that as economic conditions worsen and the morale of the populace and the army sinks, the people will force President Thieu to obey the peace agreement.

Siphan pointed out that the United States's return to the policies of the Kennedy era-- of providing arms, aid and advisors to the Saigon regime--impaired the expression of popular sentiment. I suggested that perhaps the role of U.S. advisors was now somewhat different, as they help to maintain rather than to create a technologically advanced war machine. Siphan said that he doubted that the United States could do more with 10,000 advisors than with a half million troops. He considered the presence of the advisors an indication that Nixon had something to hide.

Siphan was anxious that Americans exert pressure on the Saigon regime to release its political prisoners, conservatively estimated at 100,000 by the London-based Amnesty International group. Other problems such as the use of chemical defoliants by Saigon forces were not so important, since Siphan was sure that the Provisional Revolutionary Government would be able to overcome them.

The United States resumed reconaissance flights over North Vietnam in August in violation of the peace accords. Siphan was far more concerned with President Nixon's unwillingness to pay for the damages done by the United States to North Vietnam. The January agreement had omitted reference to reparations, according to Siphan, to permit the United States to save face. Siphan insisted that Nixon respect the terms of the peace agreement, but he noted that North Vietnam had already been able to obtain reconstruction assistance elsewhere. "Many countries are better off without U.S. aid," Siphan said.

Our second meeting two days later centered on more general problems in Vietnamese-American relations. Siphan agreed that President Johnson's use of U.S. resources to fuel the Vietnam war at the expense of internal needs was a great tradedy for the American people. I raised the example of the Watergate hearings to explain why the American people had finally brought an end to U.S. bombing in Indochina; When people finally realized that they had been lied to--after watching the Watergate hearings and reading about the secret 1969-70 U.S. bombings of Cambodia-- they demanded a stop to those excesses. I explained that Americans like to think that they are doing the right thing; they are taxpayers and law abiders, and will not tolerate being lied to.

As our discussion drew to a close, Siphan said, "I like to say that if nothing else, at least the war in Vietnam has helped Americans to understand Vietnam, which otherwise they would never have heard of." I could not help but agree.

UNLIKE Siphan who had only recently arrived in Paris, the Provisional Revolutionary Government's press attache Ly Van Sau was an old hand. His manner was assertive, and he had an incredible capacity to discuss a problem thoroughly and succinctly without missing any details. As we sat in exquisitely upholstered lounge chairs at the PRG's Information Office on the second floor of an old mansion in the posh section of Paris near the Arch of Triumph and the Eiffel Tower, I scarcely realized that I was talking to the representative of a government which had fought a long, dirty guerilla war in the jungles of Vietnam.

Much of our time was devoted to a discussion of historical problems. It became apparent that at no time during the negotiations did the PRG have the slightest doubt concerning the desire of the Nixon administration to maintain a sympathetic regime in South Vietnam. If the prisoner of war issue had ever been important, it was because of the propaganda emphasis placed on it by the Nixon administration. As North Vietnamese Premier Pham Van Dong said in Hanoi September 2, in periods of escalation as well as deescalation, his government never lost sight of the United States's intention to impose its neocolonialist wishes on South Vietnam and to keep it from reuniting with the North.

After discussing the prisoner issue, Ly Van Sau said that the Thieu regime could not maintain its political prisoners without $50 million of U.S. aid annually. Pointing his finger at me, Sau said emphatically that it was the duty of American taxpayers to put pressure on Nixon to stop the aid. The thought occurred that Thieu might let the prisoners starve to death if the United States stopped its aid, but I kept my thoughts to myself.

At his weekly news conference one hour before our talk, Sau raised the issue of the Saigon government's use of defoliants. Although he did not have precise information concerning how Saigon had obtained the chemicals, Sau asserted that the Thieu regime was using them because that regime is anti-popular and cannot exist without the use of coercion. If Thieu sprays chemicals on PRG-controlled areas, it is because he considers them to be the new Vietnam: the city of Loc Ninh is the new Saigon-- life is cheaper, the people live better. Sau insisted that the Thieu regime had been doing everything in its power to prevent the PRG from rebuilding the economy and from producing rice. "They are trying to destroy us by bombs and hunger," he said, "but if they kill off our water buffalo it is a very serious problem for us for they are our equivalent of the tractor.

Congress did not cut off U.S. aid to the Thieu regime, but there is some hope that in the future it will continue to reduce his fund allocations. Yet, as the French scholar Philippe Devillers and an official on leave from the U.S. embassy in Saigon both impressed on me, the only laws that the United States respects in Vietnam are the gun and the piaster. Wars that cannot be won on the battlefield can be dragged on a minimal cost. Thieu may last for another eight years if he can stir up enough support from the right-wing chauvinists, Jean Lacouture, a French scholar and journalist, said.

But Thieu's great problem is that he wants more guns and butter, and Nixon is running out of both. Indeed, there's hardly enough night oil for Nixon to read Thieu's latest arms request. Thieu has flouted the peace agreement continually. He announced recently that his army has suffered 50,000 casualties since the end of January. Such a figure is predictable since his army has not had a moment's rest from attacking the PRG.

In neighboring Cambodia the war grinds on. An interview with an official of the Sihanouk government in exile suggests that the chances for compromise are dim. In Laos, however, the signing of the Vientiane agreement offers some prospects for peace. Since the spring, the Pathet Lao have sought to seperate themselves from their old Vietnamese and Cambodian allies. In Thailand, conservative students overthrew the pro-American ruling junta-- wonders never cease! And of course, the U.S. Congress has clamped a lid on U.S. bombing and enacted restrictions on Nixon's war making powers.

Yet Thieu is still trying to pick a fight. The North Vietnamese and the PRG are preparing themselves for any eventuality. For the PRG, there will be more privations. The North Vietnamese leaders are anxious to repair war damage in two years and then to start a new five year plan in 1976. Without economic development, they fear that communism will not take hold in their country.

Thieu, for his part, has pledged that his country will be self-sufficient in two years. Yet, the more the Vietnamese parties cold shoulder each other, the farther away the realization of their great expectations will become.