Fire and Rain: Nixon, Kissinger, and the Wars in Southeast Asia

by Carolyn Woods Eisenberg

As an exercise in morality it was a fateful choice. His intervention had saved hundreds, perhaps thousands of American lives.

Whether it was the Secretary of State, a bevy of ambassadors, CIA area specialists, American military officers, or arms controllers, Nixon and Kissinger bypassed and deceived them all. For that small circle of people surrounding the president, the breach of procedural norms had become a way of life. As the cover-up of Watergate slowly peeled away, there was a tendency among observers to differentiate this sordid tale of domestic misdeeds from the more prestigious management of “national security.”

Aware that another US–Soviet summit was scheduled for later that spring, their priority was to enlist the Nixon administration for their anti-Russian (“anti-hegemonic”) agenda. It was perhaps for this purpose that Kissinger was treated to a rare two-hour interview with Chairman Mao.

Halfway into their meeting, Mao observed that Kissinger’s voice was very hoarse. “Why do you want to continue to talk so much?”

On his return to Washington, Kissinger gave Nixon an exuberant report of his experience. During this Chinese visit he found himself “in the extraordinary situation that with the exception of the United Kingdom, the PRC might well be closest to us in its global perceptions.”

In a separate memorandum Kissinger was at pains to describe his extraordinary interview with Mao. The Chairman seemed in better health than previously. He spoke with great animation and coherence, “while demonstrating a quick and earthy sense of humor.”

One-tenth of the population had already died, hundreds of thousands had become refugees, entire villages had disappeared—but for the Nixon administration, the opportunity to use this period for additional air strikes had been irresistible.

A city that until recently had a population of 600,000 was suddenly home to 1.2 million people.

By the spring, there was a strong impetus to call a halt to this and other military involvement in Indochina, absent specific congressional approval. By an overwhelming 67–15 roll call vote on June 14, the US Senate added such an amendment to a State Department authorization bill, with over half of the Republicans voting “Aye.” The following week, the House of Representatives—historically reluctant to challenge the White House—passed their own anti-bombing measure by voice vote.

Two days later President Nixon vetoed the appropriations bill on the grounds that the enactment of the Cambodia rider “would cripple or destroy the chances of an effective negotiated settlement in Cambodia

As he walked along the riverbank, the American reporter came upon a soldier “sobbing uncontrollably.” Spotting Schanberg, he cried, “All my family is dead. . . . All my family is dead! Take my picture, take my picture! Let the Americans see me.”

Kissinger deemed the query “highly inappropriate” to the occasion. This had nothing to do with his “personal feelings,” he explained, but with “how as a country, we look at ourselves. That serious people make serious decisions ought to be taken for granted.”

Without this domestic opposition, it is probable that the Nixon administration would have pursued the war longer and more vigorously than it did, with even higher casualties and greater destruction. However, the dissent does not explain why the Vietnam War was lost. That outcome was rooted in factors that preceded Nixon’s election: the unpopularity, weakness, and corruption of the Saigon government; the poor morale of the South Vietnamese military; the discipline and dedication of the adversary; and the indigenous nature of the insurgency.

Allowing for a certain dollop of self-deception, Nixon and Kissinger prolonged the war as long they did because it served their own needs and met other institutional requirements.

The regime held power for the following two years and three months. The collapse, when it finally came on April 30, 1975, was even faster than Hanoi had anticipated.

With the two sides plainly at war, the Nixon administration had pressed Congress tor additional aid, but the mood on Capitol Hill was decidedly unpropitious.

In March 1975, as North Vietnamese troops moved into the Central Highlands, General Thieu ordered a retreat. As described by Baltimore Sun reporter Arnold Isaacs, that directive “led to a sudden catastrophic release of all the deep social and moral flaws of the regime.” As had previously occurred:

Those officers who did try to lead were helpless in the breakdown of military order. The every-man-for-himself morality that had pervaded the system for years was now in command, turning the withdrawal into a desperate, doomed race for survival.

Rarely acknowledged by US officials at the time were the ways in which the unrestrained use of American firepower had multiplied enemies and discredited friends. By the end of 1975, all three Washington-supported governments had been overthrown. At the time, it was widely recognized that the Nixon administration’s policy in Southeast Asia had been disastrous.. Lamentably, the self-serving belief that the freedom and security of people around the world depended on US military might, somehow survived.