The Eisenhower Administration, the Third World, and the Globalization of the Cold War 0742553817, 9780742553811

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The Eisenhower Administration, the Third World, and the Globalization of the Cold War
 0742553817, 9780742553811

Table of contents :
Contents
Preface: The Eisenhower Administration, the Third World, and the Globalization of the Cold War
Introduction: Thinking Globally and Acting Locally
I. Instruments of a Global Policy: Propaganda, Covert Operations, and Aid
1. Words and Deeds: Race, Colonialism, and Eisenhower’s Propaganda War in the Third World
2. The Central Intelligence Agency and the Face of Decolonization under the Eisenhower Administration
3. “The Most Important Single Aspect of Our Foreign Policy”?: The Eisenhower Administration, Foreign Aid, and the Third World
II. Globalizing the Cold War: Asia After Korea
4. “The Point of No Return”: The Eisenhower Administration and Indonesia, 1953-1960
5. Building a Colony: South Vietnam and the Eisenhower Administration, 1953-1961
6. Militant Diplomacy: The Taiwan Strait Crises and Sino-American Relations, 1954-1958
III. Globalization Continues: Bandung, Africa, and Latin America
7. Small Victory, Missed Chance: The Eisenhower Administration, the Bandung Conference, and the Turning of the Cold War
8. “A Torrent Overrunning Everything”: Africa and the Eisenhower Administration
9. Persistent Condor and Predatory Eagle: The Bolivian Revolution and the United States, 1952-1964
IV. The Globalized Cold War in the Middle East
10. The United States and Israel in the Eisenhower Era: The “Special Relationship” Revisited
11. Middle East Cold Wars: Oil and Arab Nationalism in U.S.-Iraqi Relations, 1958-1961
Conclusion: The Devil Is in the Details: Eisenhower, Dulles, and the Third World
Bibliographic Essay
Index
About the Contributors

Citation preview

The Eisenhower Administration, the Third World, and the Globalization o f the Cold W ar

The Harvard Cold W ar Studies Book Series

Series Editor Mark Kramer, Harvard University 'the Struggle fo r the Soul o f the Nation: Czech Culture a tid the Rise o f Communism Bradley F. Abrams

Resistance with the People: Repression a n d Resistance in Eastern Gennany, 1945-1955 Gary Bruce

Triggering Comm unism’s Collapse: Perceptions a n d Pou»er in Poland’s Transition M arjorie Castle

At the Daunt o f the Cold War: The Sotnet-American Crisis over Iranian Azerbaijan, 1911-1916 Jam il Hasanli

Mao a n d the Economic Stalinization o f China: 1948-1953 Hua-yu Li

Redrawing Nations: Ethnic Cleansing in East-Central Europe, 1944-1918 Edited by Ph ilipp Ther and Ana Siljak

The Eisenhower Administration, the Third World, and the Globalization o f the Cold W ar

Edited by Kathryn C. Statler and Andrew L. Johns

RO WMAN & LITTLEFIELD PUB LIS HER S, INC.

Lanham • Boulder • New York • Toronto • Oxford

ROWMAN & LITTLEFIELD PUBLISHERS, INC.

Published in (lie United States o f America by Rowman & Littlefield PuMishers, Inc. A wholly ow ned sulisidiary of 'rite Rowman & Littlefield Pulilishing Group, Inc. 4501 Forties Boulevard, Suite 200, Lanltam, Maryland 20706 w ww .row m anlittleßeld.coin P.O. Box 317, Oxford 0X 2 9RU, UK Copyright © 2006 by Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc. A ll rights reserved. No part o f this publication may Ite reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transm itted in any form or by any means, electronic, m echanical, photocopying, recording, or otlterw lse, without the prior permission of the publislter. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Information Available lib ra ry o f Congress Cataloging-in-Publicatlon Data

Tlie Elsenhower administration, the Third World, and the globalization of the Cold War / edited by Kathryn C. Statler and Andrew L Johns, p. cm — (The Harvard G rid War studies book series) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN-13: 978-0-7425-5381-1 (d o th : alk. paper) ISBN-10: 0-7425-5381-7 (cloth : alk. paper) 1. United States—Foreign relations—1953-1961. 2. United States—Foreign relations—Developing countries. 3. Developing countries—Foreign relations— United States. 4. G ild War. I. Statler, Kathryn G , 1971- . II. Johns, Andrew L, 1968- . III. Series. E835.E34 2006 327.730172'4009045—dc22 2006003776 Printed in tlie United States o f America © ™ Tlie paper used in this puMication m eets tlie minimum requirem ents of American National Standard tor Information Sciences—Permanence o f Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANS1/NISO Z39.48-1992.

Contents

Preface The Eisenhower Administration, the Third World, and (lie Globalization of the Cold War Andrew L Johns Introduction Thinking Globally and Acting Locally ChesterJ. Fetch Jr.

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Section I: Instrum ents of a Global Policy: Propaganda, Covert Operations, and Aid 1 Words and Deeds: Race, Colonialism, and Eisenhower's Propaganda War in the Third World Kenneth A. Osgood 2

3

The Central Intelligence Agency and the Face of Decolonization under the Eisenhower Administration John Prados “The Most Important Single Aspect of Our Foreign Policy"?: The Eisenhower Administration, Foreign Akl, and the Tliird Work! Michael R. Adamson

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3

27

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C ontents

vi

Section II: Globalizing the Cold War: Asia after Korea

4

5

6

"The Point of No Return”: The Eisenhower Administration and Indonesia, 1953-1960 Robert J. McMahon

75

Building a Colony: South Vietnam and the Eisenhower Administration, 1953-1961 Kathryn C. Statler

101

Militant Diplomacy: H ie Taiwan Strait Crises and Sino-American Relations, 1954-1958 Yi Sun

125

Section III: Globalization Continues: Bandung, Africa, and Latin America 7

8

9

Small Victory, Missed Chance: H ie Eisenhower Administration, the Bandung Conference, and the Turning of the Cold War Jason C. Parker

153

“A Torrent Overrunning Everything”: Africa and the Eisenhower Administration James H. Meriwether

175

Persistent Condor and Predatory Eagle: The Bolivian Revolution and the United States, 1952-1964 James F. Siekmeier

197

Section IV:The Globalized Cold War in the Middle East 10 The United States and Israel in the Eisenhower Era: The "Special Relationship” Revisited Peter L H ahn

225

11 Middle East Cold Wars: Oil and Arab Nationalism in U.S.-Iraqi Relations, 1958-1961 Nathan J. Citino

245

Conclusion The Devil Is in the Details: Eisenhower, Dulles, and the Third World David L. Anderson

271

Bibliographic Essay

281

Index

295

About the Contributors

301

Preface The Eisenhower Administration, the Third World, and the Globalization of the Cold War Andrew L Johns

The period following World W ir II brought about profound changes to in­ ternational relations. Not only was the multipolar world replaced by the Soviet-Ainerican rivalry, Ixn the turmoil and iastability caused by die forces of decolonization and nationalism in Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and the Americas—which became known collectively as the Third World—radically altered the decision-making calculus in both Washington and Moscow. 'Ih e Truman administration dealt with these changes largely through the leas of the superpower conflict, subordinadng Third World concerns in favor of se­ curing the cooperation of America’s allies in die fight agaiast communism. It would not be until the Korean War and NSC-68 globalized America’s con­ tainment policy in 1950 (contrary to George Kennan’s original fbnnulation) and the election of Dwight D. Eisenhower that American foreign relatioas would confront the Third World in any meaningful way. Indeed, with the promulgation of the "New Look" in 1953, Elsenhower and his advisors placed a new emphasis on the importance of nonaligned natioas to the United States. The focus of this collection of essays is the Elsenhower administration’s policy toward the Hiird Work! in the globalized Cokl War. American officials struggled to respond to the dual threats of communism and nationalism as de­ colonization swept through the Third World during the 1950s and changed the nature of both the Cold War and U.S. foreign relations with those natioas. As the Cold War increasingly became a zero-sum game, the Third World Ibe­ came the primary liattleground in die ideological, economic, and political struggle between Washington and Moscow. As these essays demonstrate, the vii

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Eisenhower administration placed an extremely high priority on victory in the Third World and seemed willing to go to virtually any length to easute that countries in Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and the Americas remained aligned with the forces of democracy and capitalism. Yet the administration frequently failed to fully comprehend the forces at work in the Thial World, and, lacking a nuanced approach, often found itself at the mercy of events out of its con­ trol. As David Anderson suggests in the conclusion of tills volume, dealing with these countervailing forces was like trying to manage an earthquake. Diplomatic historians such as Tony Smith and Zachary Karahell have in­ creasingly called for more study of the role played by the nations of the Third World during the Cold War, especially the influence of those countries rela­ tive to their position in the global superpower stmggle. The editors and con­ tributors of this collection of essays believe that the arguments presented in this volume individually and collectively will advance our understanding of the multifaceted and complex nature of the conflict, and the important (and often pivotal) role played by actors outside of Washington and Moscow dur­ ing the 1950s. This project began as my hastily scribbled notes on a legal pad during a panel on U.S. policy in the Third World at the Society for Historians of American For­ eign Relations conference at Georgetown University in 1997. I approached Kathryn Statler with the concept, and her enthusiastic tespoase led to this col­ laboration. Over the next five years, the original idea morphed into a much more ambitious project, and eventually the varied musings from several scrap pieces of paper and countless conversations with colleagues at lunches, over the phone, and on e-mail evolved into an outstanding conference at the Uni­ versity of San Diego in March 2003. The essays in this volume are, with one ex­ ception, revised versioas of the papers presented at the conference. Over the past three years, Kathryn and 1 have been fortunate to have worked with a number of talented historiaas. The contributors to this volume—Michael Adamson, Davkl Anderson, Nate Citino, Peter Hahn, Ken Osgood, Bob McMa­ hon, Jim Meriwether, Chester Fach, Jason Parker, John Prados, Jim Siekmeier, and Yi Sun—were amazing to work with, and it is to them that we owe the suc­ cess of the conference and this collection. The research represented in their work demoastrates the best combination of international and multiarchival his­ tory. Our thanks to all erf them for their work in helping to make this book a re­ ality. Fred Logevall and David Schmitz provided timely advice and suggestioas for the project. We also would like to thank the Department of History at Brigham Young University, the Department erf History at the University of San Diego, the Joan B. Kroc Iastitute tor Peace and Justice, former USD Provost Frank Lazarus and the Academic Excellence Fund, and the USD Enhanced Stu­ dent Faculty Interaction Fund for their financial assistance. Also deserving of mention for their contributions to this project are the other participants in the conference—Irwin Geliman, Ali Gheissari, Lisa Cobbs Hoffman, Jim Matray,

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and Daniel Williamson; University of San Diego graduate students Nick Vega and Vera Harham, who provided transportation and other support lor the con­ ference; Louis Cappella, director of operations at the Kroc Institute, whose lo­ gistical assistance during the conference was invaluable; and our colleagues at USD and BYU. Mark Kramer, Jessica Grihble, Janice Braunstein, and the editors at Rowman & Littlefield have worked with us to bring this book to publication as part of the Harvard Cold War Book Series. We would he remiss if we did not express our gratitude to Mark and the anonymous reviewers erf the essays, whose cogent comments proved valuable in the final revisions and led to the inclusion of the chapter on modernization theory. Kathryn and I have been friends and colleagues since starting graduate school at the University of California, Santa Barbara in 1993- Through long hours of study for exams; spilled coffee at Espresso Roma; two long weeks in Abilene; two very different job search experiences; and conferences in Boulder, College Hark, Maui, and Toronto (among other things); we have ex­ perienced the good, had, and ugly of academic life together. There is nobody with whom I would rather collaborate, and nobody whose support and friendship I value more. Finally, we would like to thank our families—Kayli, Mitchell, Matthew and Jenna, and Craig and Claire—for all of their love and support during this project.

Introduction Thinking Globally and Acting Locally ChesterJ. Pacb Jr.

Two weeks before his inauguration, President-elect Dwight D. Eisenhower met in New York with British Prime Minister Wiaston Churchill to discuss world affairs. Although they shared an “intimate friendship,” their views on contemporary “international complexities” differed substantially. Churchill called lor an Anglo-American partnership lor dealing with international problems, much like the special relatioaship that the two natioas had en­ joyed during the Second World War. Yet Elsenhower believed that “any hope of establishing such a relationship” was “completely fatuous.” The world liad changed dramatically in the previous decade, and no longer was it possible, as Churchill proposed, “to relive the days of World War II.” “Nationalism is on the march,” Eisenhower declared, and the United States and Great Britain “must not appear before the world as a combination of forces to compel ad­ herence to the status quo.” Any attempt to direct world affairs from “some rather Olympian platform” could only alienate H iird World governments and encourage them to seek “communist help to achieve and sustain Itheiri na­ tionalist ambitions.” Churchill’s “old-fashioned, paternalistic approach,” Eisenhower concluded, would not help persuade people in emerging na­ tions that “their only hope of maintaining independence” was “through co­ operation with the free world.”1 As he began Ills presidency, Elsenhower recognized that the Third World had become an important Cokl War battleground. For Elsenhower, there was no greater challenge to U.S. security than die threat from the Soviet Union. In his first inaugural address, Elsenhower declared that die world was di­ vided between the “forces of good and evil.” In this stark, moral conflict, xi

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“freedom is pitted against slavery; lightness against darkness."2 Yet there were many uncommitted areas of the world, where Issues of development took precedence over Cold War divisioas. As Eisenhower and his top advi­ sors formulated their “New Look” basic national security policy in 1953, they concluded that nonaligned Third World natioas could have an important ef­ fect on Cold War competition. The National Security Council asserted that vi­ tal resources, large populations, and growth potential meant that fluid Third World areas, should they choose sides in the Cold War, might either augment the strength of “the free world” or tip the balance of world power, perhaps decisively, “to our detriment.” Forging linn lies with these Third World na­ tioas would be a difficult task, die NSC warned, owing to anti-Western re­ sentment, rising nationalism, and die volatility of national and regional poli­ tics. Economic aid would not by itself lie enough to secure support or cooperation. Political initiadves and patient diplomacy would be necessary to create “a sease of mutuality” critical to countering “communist appeals.”3 Eisenhower was the first president who dealt continually with Third World Issues throughout his years in office. During the two world wars, Woodrow Wilson and Franklin D. Roosevelt, respectively, had confronted quesdoas of decolonization and national self-determination in the Middle East and East Asia. During the early Cold War, Harry S. Tniman had tried to balance sup­ port for nationalist movements in countries such as India and Indonesia agaiast a determination to secure the cooperation of colonial nations, such as Great Britain and the Netherlands, in containing communist expaasion in Europe and Asia. Yet not until the end of Truman’s presidency had die term “Third World” entered political discourse. And not until Eisenhower’s first term had a self-conscious nonaligned movement, whose leaders included Gamal Abdel Nasser of Egypt, Achmed Sukarno of Indonesia, and Jawahar­ lal Nehai of India, emeiged and liegun to command international attention with a conference at Bandung, Indonesia, in 1955. Two years later, another articulate advocate of nonalignment, President Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana, gained prominence, when his country secured independence from Great Britain. Seventeen more African natioas attained independence in I960, in­ cluding the Congo, where a civil war brought the commitment of United Natioas peacekeeping forces and U.S.-Soviet intrigue. The emergence of the Hiird World reshaped international affairs during the 1950s. “The world has developed a kind of ferment greater than [I can] remember,” Eisenhower declared during his last months in office.4 Soviet efforts to exploit this ferment uasettled the president. Eisenhower’s concern as he entered the White House about Soviet attempts to capitalize on the unrest and anti-Western sentiment in the Third World deepened by the end of his first term, as the new Soviet leader, Nikita Khrushchev, gave increased attention to developing nations. In late 1955, Khrushchev visited India, Afghanistan, and Burma. He traveled by airplane, train, automobile,

in tro d u ctio n

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and pachyderm, leading one disgruntled Soviet official to sneer, "an elephant riding an elephant.” Khmshchev did more than demonstrate his zest for lo­ cal culture. He offered loans and trade agreements to India, Afghanistan, and Egypt. Together these measures comprised what U.S. officiais called a Soviet economic offensive in the Third World. For Khmshchev, the Third World took on greater importance as he pursued peaceful coexistence with the West. The "impossibility erf nuclear war,” Khrushchev explained, meant that “the struggle between us and the capitalists was taking on new forms.”5 Eisenhower and his principal advisors agreed. Secretary of State John Fos­ ter Dulles concluded in 1956 that U.S.-Soviet competition was shifting to the Third World. In his State of the Union address in January 1958, the president asserted that the Third Work! economic offeasive was part of the Soviets’ "to­ tal Cokl War.” Eisenhower maintained that the Soviet threat was unprece­ dented because of its "inclusiveness.” "Trade, economic development, mili­ tary power, arts, science, education, the whole workl of ideas,” he iasisted, were all "harnessed to this same chariot of expaaskm .” The president be­ lieved that the way to meet the challenge of total Cold War was by waging "total peace.” This strategy required a reorganized and accelerated defease effort, but also essential were expanded foreign akl programs. Only three months earlier, on October 4, 1957, the Soviets had achieved a stunning suc­ cess by launching the world’s first artificial satellite. Eisenhower conceded that he had not anticipated the psychological impact of Sputnik, which cre­ ated widespread fear in the United States that the Soviets had surged into the lead in the "space race.” "Let us not make the same kind of mistake,” Eisen­ hower declared, "by failing to anticipate the much more serious impact of the Soviet economic offeasive.” The "economic penetration” of "newly de­ veloping countries,” the president warned, was the first step toward eventual Soviet "political domination.”6 The president urged Congress to approve increased spending on economic aid for Third Workl countries, but he encountered coasiderahie resistance. Eisenhower coasidered foreign assistance "the cheapest insurance in the workl” against the spread of Soviet influence. In his 1958 State of the Union address, he challenged the common criticism that foreign aid was nothing more than a "giveaway” program, but he had trouble persuading influential members of Congress. Representative Otto Passman (D-La.), who chaired a House appropriatioas subcommittee that dealt with foreign aid, used his in­ fluence to cut the administration’s spending requests out of conviction that "giving away the wealth of this nation will (not) win us a single friend.” Pass­ man took perverse satisfaction in seeing that congressional appropriatioas al­ ways fell short of Eisenhower's preferences. "Son, I don’t smoke and I don’t drink,” lie once told a State Department official. "My only pleasure in life is kicking the shit out of the foreign aid program of the United States.” Eisen­ hower still managed to secure approval of some new U.S. initiatives, such as

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the Development Loan Fund, during his second term in the White House. But partly because of congressional parsimony and obstructionism, Eisenhower still complained in I960 that communists were poised to turn Third World dis­ content to their advantage.7 Whatever difficulties he encountered in dealing with the Third World, Eisenhower was clearly in charge of his administration’s foreign policy. No longer do Eisenhower scholars debate, as they did a generation ago, ques­ tions about whether the president had the experience, commitment, energy, or judgment to engage international issues and direct his administration’s re­ sponse to them. The opening of previously unavailable collections of per­ sonal papers and the declassification of U.S. government documents showed that Eisenhower was usually at the center of discussion in meetings of the National Security Council or die cabinet. However much the president’s ex­ temporaneous remarks at press conferences might have left listeners con­ fused or lie wildered, his statements in meetings with advisors were usually clear, direct, and thoughtfi.il. Though it might Itave seemed diat Eisenhower delegated respoasibilily for managing foreign policy to John Foster Dulles, the documentary record shows that Eisenhower was calling the shots and making the important decisions. No longer is it possible to argue that things went wrong—or right—with U.S. policy toward the Third World because Eisenhower was unaware or unable to comprehend the actioas of his own State or Defense departments or because he left the decisioas to subordi­ nates while he enjoyed a round of golf or a game of bridge with his friends.* At Issue in any evaluation of the Elsenhower administration’s dealings with the Third World is not whether the president was engaged, informed, or purposefiil, but whether his policies were effective or wise. Two decades ago, one of the contributors to this volume, Robert J. McMahon, framed the de­ bate about Eisenhower’s Third World policies in ways that are still timely and important. McMahon accepted the arguments of “Eisenhower revisionists” who called attention to the president’s previously hidden hand in the for­ mulation of foreign policy. But he faulted those scholars for not giving suffi­ cient attention to Third World issues in evaluating Eisenhower’s leadership. McMahon believed that praise for Eisenhower’s restraint in avoiding war over Indochina or Suez should be tempered by criticism for his failure “to de­ velop constructive relationships with the emerging nations of the Third World.” McMahon raised a series of questioas that established an agenda for future scholars, whether or not they accepted his critical view of Elsen­ hower’s Third World policies. Were there “prospects for an accommodation with Third World nationalism?” Did “militant nationalism” pose “a significant threat” to U.S. interests, and, if so, how did “administration officials define those interests?” Did U.S. difficulties in the Third World arise from a preoc­ cupation with the Soviet threat or a “Europe-first orientation?” Did congres­ sional or public indifference or opposition “set limits on the Elsenhower ad­

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ministration’s freedom of action?” Did the president and those around him “truly appreciate the dynamism of Third-World nationalism?” If so, what dif­ ficulties were there “in translating those insights into workable policies?”9 Conflicting answers have come from previous studies of Elsenhower's ef­ forts to deal with Third World Issues. In 1968, Gabriel Kolko provided the first broad assessment of U.S. policy toward developing natioas in Con­ fronting the Third World- United States Foreign Policy, 1945-1980. While Kolko noted the U.S. commitment to the economic open door, he empha­ sized the importance o f proving the credibility of American power, begin­ ning with the Elsenhower administration, in decisions about intervention in the Third World. A desire to reassure allies and deter adversaries, Kolko ar­ gued, led to a vast expansion in the U.S. “self-appointed role” as world po­ lice officer, necessitating interventions aimed at “controlling events in rela­ tively minor places.” The administration’s struggle against Third World neutralism “divided the world into those for and against the United States and advanced a greater demand for political fealty than would have been necessary in purely economic and military matters.” The need for successes that would fortify credibility became a “morbid obsession” by the late 1950s that led to dubious interventions, as in Lebanon in 1958, lest friendly gov­ ernments, as John Foster Dulles put it, “think we lost our nerve.",u In The Specter o f Neutralism: The United States a n d the Emergence o f the Third World, 1947-1960, the prolific historian H. W. Brands found that geopolitics rather than credibility drove U.S. policy. Writing a year after Kolko, Brands challenged what he saw as the conventional wisdom that the Elsenhower administration could not effectively cooperate with neutralist leaders because of their unwillingness to take skies in the Cold War. Secre­ tary of State Dulles may have publicly equated neutralism with immorality in a global contest between good and evil, but pragmatic consideratioas of geopolitics, rather than ideology, guided the administration’s policy choices, according to Brands. Using relatioas with India, Egypt, and Yugoslavia as case studies, Brands concluded that Elsenhower and Dulles may have found Nasser’s and Nehru’s neutralism and Tito’s communism unpalatable, but they made decisions about aid or political support based on geopolitical goals—maintaining Yugoslav independence, limiting Soviet influence in India, and containing Nasser’s anti-Western pan-Arablsm. Their record was mixed—failure and fnistration as well as success—but ideological rhetoric, Brands maintained, proved a poor guide to action.11 A decade after Kolko and Brands, Zachary Karabell argued that the think­ ing in Washington provided only part of the aaswer to questions about why U.S. officials intervened in the Third World, and whether those actions achieved their objectives. In Architects o f Intervention: The United States, the Third World, a n d the Cold War, 1946-1962, Karabell emphasized that “both American and third-world actors designed an ‘architecture’ for U.S. policy in

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their respective countries.” Discussion in Beintt cafes as well as meetings in the White House helped determine the timing and results of Eisenhower's decision to commit U.S. armed forces to Lebanon. Karalxill argued that local actors in Third World countries, despite relatively limited power, had critical influence in shaping U.S. policy. Cold War history, Karabell maintained, had to incorporate the perspectives of H iird World architects on the periphery as well as superpower policymakers at the center.12 Like Karabell, Tony Smith called for a “pericentric” approach to Cold War history that showed “lesser actors” actually having major roles as “determined nationalists, hardened re­ alists, principled idealists, high-rolling risk takers, committed ideologues, brazen manipulators, and opportunists” able to achieve their own ends. Such an approach would show Third World actors “contributing to the central dy­ namics” of the Cold War.13 The chapters in this volume provide new research and fresh perspectives that put Hiird World issues and actors at the center of Cold War dynamics in the 1950s. Each rests on extensive work in U.S. primary sources, including the holdings of the Eisenhower Library and the National Archives. And like much of the best, recent work in international history, these essays also pro­ vide detailed analysis of the politics and culture of Third World nations and the regional dynamics of the Cold War in the Middle East, Latin America, East Asia, and Africa. Some of the contributors conducted multiarchival research in such repositories as the Israeli State Archives, the French Ministry of For­ eign Affairs, and the British Public Record Office. Others have drawn on published documents and memoirs that help to explain local developments in Bolivia, China, or Iraq. Collectively these essays show that Third World ac­ tors played major roles in Cold War crises, at times shrewdly using power and initiative to follow independent policies or frustrate U.S. designs. These chapters also show that the Eisenhower administration gave high priority to winning Cold War victories in the Third World. In addition, these essays demonstrate how local developments could have global implications. At the end of Eisenhower’s presidency, Representative Chester Bowles (D-Conn.) observed that “the division between ‘domestic’ and ‘foreign’ affairs policies no longer has meaning.”14 International histori­ ans have validated Bowles’s assertion, especially in their writing about issues of race and colonialism. In the last decade, we have come to understand what historians used to consider as events in the domestic history of the U.S. civil rights movement—developments such as the Supreme Court decision in the case of B roun v. Board o f Education or the Montgomery, Alabama, bus boycott of 1955-1956—as parts of a global movement for racial equality. The crisis in Little Rock, Arkansas, over the desegregation of Central High School at the beginning of the school year in 1957 involved more than local segre­ gationists disrupting public order or state officials challenging federal au­ thority. It also created contradictions between the international image of the

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United States and the efforts of Eisenhower administration officials to appeal to peoples of color in the Third World. Keenly aware of diese international complications, Eisenhower told a national audience in a televised address on the Little Rock crisis, M Our enemies are gloating over this incident and using it everywhere to misrepresent our whole nation.”15John Foster Dulles even complained that the conflict in Little Rock was ”ruining our foreign policy.”16 Major books by Brenda Gayle Plummer, Penny Von Eschen, Mary L Dudziak, and Thomas Borstelmann have explored the intersections between the Cokl War and racial issues.17 Several of the essays in this volume add to their analysis by examining how the Eisenhower administration attempted to navigate what the president called in his second inaugural address the global “winds of change.” By doing so, they contribute to a new understanding of the Cokl War in which issues of race and colonialism emerge as fondamen­ tal matters in the daily lives of people and the international policies of gov­ ernm ent officials in both the First and Third Worlds. First World decision makers’ perceptions of the Third World played a critical role in detennining their policies. These policies often were on a collision course with the goals of Third World nationalists, who sought to overcome tra­ ditional hierarchies of power, race, and culture. Although Eisenhower adminis­ tration officials emphasized their belief in self-determination, other ideological factors—historically embedded racism, fear of revolution, and contested views of how to ensure freedom abroad—often took precedence. As Michael Hunt has noted, these ideological constructs often led to skepticism about the politi­ cal maturity of emerging nations. This skepticism became even more pro­ nounced as the Soviet Union began to support decolonizing countries not only through political support but also with substantial aid. Eisenhower officials feared that “Third World peoples in their political immaturity would not realize their special vulnerability, would fail to take proper precautioas agaiast Com­ munist blandishments and infiltration, and thus fall easy prey.”18 The conse­ quences of this outlook for American relations with the Third Work! would be serious indeed, as the essays in this volume demonstrate, when U.S. solicitude for colonial allies and feats of communist influence clashed with Third Work! leaders’ resolve to pursue independence. This book begins with a section on three of the Eisenhower administra­ tion’s most important iastniments of policy in the Third World—propaganda, covert action, and foreign aRI. For Eisenhower, as Kenneth Osgood argues, the Cokl War was fundamentally a clash of ideas and values in which inter­ national public opinion would determine the winner. Propaganda thus be­ came a critical weapon for waging the Cold War, especially in the Third World. The administration’s greatest problem was not inadequate investment or attention to information programs, but the disparity between “words and deeds.” It was not just violent, Southern resistance to desegregation that un­ dercut the efforts of the U.S. Information Agency to depict the United States

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as a progressive nation where equal opportunity prevailed. A fatal liability was Eisenhower's tepid commitment to civil rights and his reluctance to sup­ port anti-colonial movements for tear of losing the cooperation of European imperial powers in efforts to contain communist expaasion. “No amount of sloganeering of spin-doctoring,” Osgood concludes, “could counter the re­ fusal of the Eisenhower administration to lake a strong stand agaiast colo­ nialism abroad and racism at home.” John Prados maintaias that another of Eisenhower’s favored mechanisms for advancing U.S. interests—covert operatioas—ultimately undermined the American position in the Third World. Prados, one of the leading authorities in intelligence history, shows that officials in the Central Intelligence Agency appreciated the importance of winning friends in the nations that were cmciging from political and eco­ nomic colonialism during the 1950s. Yet, he contends, they tended to see lo­ cal realities in Third World natioas through the distorted, global leas of the Cold War. The coasequences of this fundamental misunderstanding included missed opportunities to advance the larger strategic interest of widening the Sino-Soviet split through misguided efforts, as in Indonesia, to suppress lo­ cal communists that enjoyed Beijing’s support. CIA collaboratioas with Eu­ ropean allies—including the French in Indochina, the British in Iran, Egypt, and Iraq, and the Belgiaas in the Congo—also contributed to Third World perceptioas of the United States as a neocolonialist power. Michael R. Adam­ son’s chapter explains why Secretary of State Dulles I"relieved that foreign aid was “The Mast Important Single Aspect of Our Foreign Policy." Adamson ex­ amines how the Elsenhower administration used aid programs to attempt “to curb the power and prevent die expaasion of international communism” in the Third World, while iasisting that trade and private investment had to be the primary meaas of stimulating economic development. Section 2 begins with a fascinating analysis of one of the most important— and most neglected—U.S. covert operatioas in Indonesia in 1957-1958. Robert J. McMahon demonstrates that the failed Anerican intervention in Indonesia was as significant as the far better-known covert actioas in Iran in 1953, Guatemala in 1954, and Cuba in 1960-1961. Using many sources that have re­ cently become available, McMahon traces the Elsenhower administration’s planning for a regime change that would have ousted Sukarno from power be­ cause of his willingness to tolerate die growing strength of die Indonesian Com­ munist Party. Grandiose plaas, however, led to colossal failure, as U.S. officials acted on misplaced confidence arising from previous short-term suc­ cesses in Iran and Guatemala. McMahon criticizes Eisenhower, Dulles, and other high U.S. officials for fitting “complex cultural, ethnic, and historical dif­ ferences and conflicting economic and political interests in Indonesia” into a misleading Cold War framework dial suggested that Indonesia was on the verge of falling to communist control. The result of such simplistic analysis was a clumsy, reckless, and failed intervention that illustrated a larger failure of die

Introduction

xix

Eisenhower administration to understand the power of Third World national­ ism. In the next essay on the Eisenhower administration's policies toward South Vietnam, Kathryn C. Statler concurs with previous scholara who have depicted Prime Minister Ngo Dinh Diem as a manipubtive leader who secured increas­ ing amounts of U.S. military and economic aid while resisting American advice to effect reforms. She makes a distinctive argument, however, by interpreting U.S. nation-building as an extension of the French “civilizing mission" in In­ dochina. As much as U.S. policymakers deprecated French colonbllsm, their own policies amounted to a neocolonial effort to graft U.S. democratic values and culture onto Vietnamese society. In the final essay in this section Yi Sun finds unexpected similarities in her comparison of John Foster Dulles and Mao Zedong during the Taiwan Strait crises. Surely Dulles and Mao would have been astonished by an argument that their diplomacy had striking commonali­ ties. Yet Yi Sun claims that both staked out provocative positions, albeit for dif­ ferent reasons, during the conflicts over the Taiwan Strait, and both ultimately made pragmatic decisions, in part to bolster the influence of their respective na­ tions in the Third World, that ended the crises. The difficulties of transbting ideas into policies Is a principal theme of sec­ tion 3. In “Small Victory, Missed Chance,” Jason C. Parker provides the most detailed analysis yet of the Bandung Conference of Afro-Asbn peoples in April 1955. He shows that the Eisenhower administration appreciated the significance of this international gathering and used a combination of image management and symbolic gestures to mute potential criticism of D.S. poli­ cies and earn a modicum of goodwill. Yet even though administration offi­ cials appreciated that European colonialism offered only short-term, uncer­ tain stability, they still were not able to take advantage of opportunities in the aftermath of Bandung to reorient U.S. policy in order to improve relatioas with neutralist leaders or prove U.S. support for the aspirations of Third World peoples. In a sim ibr fashion, James H. Meriwether argues that the Elsenhower administration understood by early 1957 that the time had come to reconsider its policies as African natioas began to achieve independence from colonial rule. Yet a fundamental change in policy never occurred, Meri­ w ether expbins, because fears of communist exploitation of nationalism or disorder made support of colonialism a safer alternative. At first gbnce, at least, there was some innovation in the Eisenhower administration’s policies toward Bolivb. As James F. Siekmeier shows in his chapter on “Persistent Condor and Predatory Eagle,” the president approved economic aid to a rev­ olutionary government whose policies often failed to accord with Washing­ ton’s preferences. Yet behind the program of assistance were the conven­ tional Cold War objectives of containing Bolivian economic nationalism and restraining the government from moving further to the left. The final section of the volume examines the challenges of dealing with Middle Eastern nationalism in the 1950s. Peter L. Hahn uses recently avaibble

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Chester J. F ach Jr.

Israeli documents as well as a rich array of U.S. sources to provide a new per­ spective on a long-standing Issue in U.S.-Israeli relatioas. Hahn aigues that there was no special relationship between Washington and Tel Aviv while Elsenhower was in the White House. Instead there was considerable tension arising from conflicting security interests. While the administration preferred an “even-handed” approach in the Middle East that would limit Soviet op­ portunities to secure Arab friendship, Israeli officials complained that U.S. fail­ ure to provide arms or security guarantees left their nation dangerously vul­ nerable. Hahn shows that the Israeli government oiganized an ambitious public relatioas or bashara campaign to mobilize congressional and popular support for Israel in the United States, but their efforts failed to produce more sympathetic administration policies. The final essay reveals that the difficul­ ties and fmstratioas in recent U.S. dealings with Iraq had precedents in the 1950s. Nathan J. Citino argues that Middle Eastern affairs did not fit into a binary, Cold War framework. He shows that communist threats were not the Eisenhower administration’s only or, at times, even principal concerns in dealing with Iraq. Also important was countering the dangers that Arab nationalism posed to Western access to Middle Eastern oil. Citino frames his analysis in terms of Elsenhower’s efforts to deal with a second cold war—the Arab cold war—which involved a fierce rivalry between the Egyptian leader, Gamal Abdel Nasser, and the Iraqi leader, Abdel Karim Qassim. He thus sees important continuities between U.S. policy in the Middle East in the Elsen­ hower years and during the presidencies of George H. W. Bush and George W. Bush. In dealing with the Third World, the Elsenhower administration, as these chapters reveal, acted locally but thought globally. Eisenhower, Dulles, and their assistants devised policies that arose from their understanding of condi­ tions in Indonesia, Bolivia, or South Vietnam. Yet their view of local conditions reflected a bipolar, Cold War outlook that framed international conflicts as moral, political, or strategic struggles lietween communism and its opponents. Elsenhower understood that the world was in ferment, yet he was unaMe to translate his appreciation for international complexity into effective policies for dealing with Third World nationalism, neutralism, or development. Much as he criticized Churchill for living in the bygone world of World War II, Elsenhower, too, could not accommodate his thinking to a world of revolutionary change.

NOTES 1. Rolx:rt H. Ferrell, ed., The Eisenhower D iaries (New York: Norton, 1981), 222-24. 2. Inaugural address, January 20,1953, “Public Papers o f the Presidents, Dwight D. Eisenhower, 1953," U te American Presidency Project, University o f California, Santa

In troduction

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Barbara, http://w w w .presidency.ucsb.edu/site/docs/pppus.php?adm in-034& year1953& kl-l (accessed Feliruary 19, 2004). 3. NSC 162/2, O ctober 30, 1953, Foreign Relations o f tbe U nited States, 1952-1954, voJ. 2: N ational Security Affairs, pt. 1 (Washington, D.C.: Governm ent Printing Office, 1984): 587-88. 4. Eisenhower quoted in Stephen G. Ralie, Eisenhower a n d Latin America: Tbe Foreign Policy o f Anticom m unism (Chapel Hill: University o f North Carolina Press, 1988), 140. 5. William Taubman, Khrushchev: Tbe M an a n d His Era (New Yoric Norton, 2003) , 348, 354. 6. "Annual Message to die Congress on the Stale of die Union, January 9,1958, The Am erican Presidency Project, http://w w w .presidency.ucsb.edu/site/docs/pppus .php?admin-a034&year-1958&idB2 (accessed Feixuary 20, 20041; Roliert J. McMahon, Tbe Cold War on tbe Periphery: The United Slates, India, a n d Pakistan (New York: Co­ lumbia University Press, 1994), 217-20; Uurton 1. Kaufman, "Hie U.S. Response to die Soviet Economic Offensive of the 1950s,” Diplomatic History 2 (Spring 1978): 153-65. 7. McMahon, Tbe Cold War on tbe Periphery, 217-20; "Annual Message to die Congress on the State of die Union, January 9, 1958, http://w w w .presidency.ucsb .edu/site/docs/pppus.php?adm in-034£year-l958& kJ-2 (accessed February 20, 2004) ; Chester J. Pach Jr., "Military Assistance and American Foreign Polky: The Rok o f Congress,” in Congress a n d United States Foreign Policy: Controlling tbe Use o f Force in tbe Nuclear Age, ed. Michael Barnhart (Alhany: State University of New Yotk Press, 1987), 143; C liesterJ. Pach Jr. and Elmo Rk'liardson, Tbe Presidency o f Du’igbt D. Eisenhower, rev. ed. (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1991), 165-66; Ralie, Eisenhower a n d Latin Am erica, 140. 8. Fach and Ridianlson, Tbe Presidency o f Dwight D. Eisenhower, xi-xii. On die DuIles-ELsenhower relationship, see Ricliaid II. Immerman, ad., John Foster Dulles a n d tbe Diplomacy o f tbe Cold War (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1990), and Immerman, John Foster Dulles: Piety, Pragmatism, a n d Power in US. Foreign Policy (Wilmington, Del.: SR Btxiks, 1999). 9. Robert J. McMahon, "ELsenliower and H iird World Natkmalism: A Critique o f the Reviskmists,” Political Science Quarterly 101 (1986): 453-73. 10. Gabriel Kolko, Confronting tbe Third World: United States Foreign Policy, 1945-1980 (New York: Pantheon, 1988), 86-87, 291-94. 11. H.W. Brands, Tbe Specter o f Neutralism: Tbe United States a n d tbe Emergence o f tbe Third World, 1947-1960 (New York: Golumbia University Press, 1989). 12. Zachary Karaliell, Architects o f Intervention: Tbe United States, tbe Third World, a n d tbe Cold War, 1 946-1962(Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1999), 1-15, 225-29. 13. Tony Smith, "New Bottles for New Wine: A Pericentric Framework for die Study o f die Cold War," D iplom atic History 24 (Fall 2000): 567-91. 14. Thom as Uorstelm ann, Tbe Cold War a n d tbe Color Line: A m erican Race Re­ lations in tbe G lobal A rena (Cam bridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2001 ), 86 . 15. "Radio and Televiskm Address to the American People on die Situatkm in Lit­ tle Rock," Septem ber 24, 15)57, http://w w w .presidency.ucsb.edu/site/docs/pppus .php?admin-034Ayear-1957&kl“ 198# (accessed Felnuary 21, 20041.

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16. Mary L Dudziak, Cold War C itil Rights: Race a n d the Im age o f Am erican De­ m ocracy (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000), 131. 17. Brenda Gayle Plummer, Rising Wind: Black Am ericans a n d US. Foreign A f­ fairs, 1935-1960 (Chapel Hill: University o f North Carolina Press, 1996); Penny M. Von Eschen, Race ag a in st Empire: B lack A m ericans a n d A nticolonialism , 1937-1957 (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1997); Dudziak, Cold War C it'd Rights-, Dorstelmann, The Cold War a n d the Color Line. 18. Michael Hunt, “Conclusions: H ie Decolonization Puzzle in U.S. Foreign Policy —Promise versus Perform ance,” in The United States a n d D ecolonization: Power a n d Freedom, eds. David Ryan and Victor Pungong (New York: St. Martin's, 2000), 230.

I INSTRUMENTS OF A GLOBAL POLICY: PROPAGANDA, COVERT OPERATIONS, A N D AID

1 Words and Deeds: Race, Colonialism, and Eisenhower’s Propaganda War in the Third World Kenneth A. Osgood

When President Eisenhower moved into the White House in the winter of 1953, he was still very much die general. Determined to prosecute the Cold War with the same intensity as die world war that had brought him fame, Eisenhower reorganized the machinery of the executive branch and recon­ ceptualized U.S. national security policies to better wage a “long haul” stnrggle against communism.1 Despite Elsenhower's lifetime of military experi­ ence, he avoided focusing solely on the military dimensions of the conflict. He believed, as he frequently commented, that the Cold War was as much a spiritual and ideological contest as it was a military or economic one. To Eisenhower the CokJ War was first and foremast a political war, a war of per­ suasion, a cultural war, and a propaganda war that would lie won or lost on the plane of public opinion, rather dian by bloodshed on the battlefield. The risk of an “out and out shooting war,” he wrote to a friend, ”ls far less than the danger we face on the political warfare front.”2 As die focus of the Cold W ir competition shifted to the Third World in die 1950s, so too dkl the propaganda war. The revolutionary and anti-imperialist messages of communism, as well as the Soviet track record of rapid industrial­ ization and modernization, potentially held great appeal to (lie new states emerging from the throes of European imperialism. The Elsenhower adminis­ tration found itself embroiled in an intease political and psychological compe­ tition for the loyalties erf these newly emerging stales, many of them still fight­ ing for independence and struggling through turbulent political revolutioas. Yet contrary to what one might expect from an administration that tended to view the world through a myopic anti-communist leas, psychological warfare 3

4

K enneth A . Osgood

experts in the ELsenltower administration consistently labeled anti-colonialism and nationalism as greater threats to American influence in the Third World than communism—at least as far as international public opinion trends were concerned. American officials were concerned that nationalist sentiment in post-colonial areas of the Third World would pressure leaders there to adopt neutralist or anti-American policies that would limit U.S. access to precious raw materials, markets, and strategic locations. They also feared that communist leaders in the Soviet Union and China would exploit nationalist sentiment for their own puiposes, potentially luring Third World countries into the commu­ nist camp. Unis, anti-colonialism and nationalism were perceived as the most serious of propaganda problems facing the United States, and the battle for the “hearts and minds” of the Third World hinged on the effectiveness with which the United States could promote its anti-colonialist credentials. This essay examines Eisenhower’s propaganda effort in the Third World, placing its discussion in the context of the broader role of psychological war­ fare in his administration. It begins by noting Eisenhower’s expansive con­ cept of psychological warfare as something that should employ a flexible combination of propaganda, public relations, and economic, political, and strategic policy initiatives.3 Eisenhower recognized tliat for propaganda to be effective words must be harmonized with deeds, and policies should reflect “psychological” considerations. He also envisioned an “ideal type” of psy­ chological warfare campaign that marshaled all the resources of govern­ ment, along with private support, in a massive coordinated assault to drive home a few select themes to target audiences.4 The essay then contrasts an example of this “ideal type,” the Atoms for Peace campaign, with the administration’s battle for hearts and minds in the developing world. Much of the developing world—particularly the emerging postcolonial areas in Southeast Asia, Africa, and the Middle East—perceived the United States as a collaborator with European imperi­ alism, a perception made worse by evidence of American racism drama­ tized by the desegregation battles in the South. Yet unlike other public re­ lations issues that consum ed the Eisenhower administration’s attention, the twin problems of racism and anti-colonialism received inadequate atten­ tion from Eisenhower and his psychological warfare planners. As U.S. offi­ cials conceded in their internal policy documents, efforts to contrast the “neoim perialist” Soviet Union with American “anti-colonialism” were sim­ ply not believed by many of the audiences targeted by U.S. propaganda. This was a failure of policy as much as one of propaganda. The absence of strong and positive American policies supporting nationalist anti-colonial aspirations in the Third World, together with Eisenliower’s unwillingness to tackle the problems of racism and segregation, fundamentally undercut the messages crafted by the psychological warfare experts. Ultimately Elsen­ hower’s psywarriors were unable to craft a convincing propaganda message

W ords a n d D eeds

5

or campaign to sell American Cold War policies to peoples in the Third World. They thus abandoned their broad concept of psychological warfare and turned to cultural initiatives to buikl long-range intellectual, ideological, linguistic, and cultural ties to bind leadership elements in the Third World to the United States.

EISENHOWER’S PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE IDEAL

Perhaps more than any other president before or since, Eisenhower was a passionate devotee of psychological warfare. He had an extraordinary ap­ preciation for the power of propaganda and the impact of ideas and emo­ tions on human beings, and his understanding of what constituted “psycho­ logical warfare” was expaasive. It went beyond “mere" propaganda to em brace any action that influenced hearts and minds. As he explained to his secretary of state, John Foster Dulles, “psychological warfare can he anything from the singing of a beautiful hymn up to the most extraordinary kind of physical sabotage.”5 Yet, in a curious sort of way, Eisenhower’s finn belief in the power of prop­ aganda was conditioned by his appreciation of the limits of propaganda. “We are not going to win the struggle tor men’s minds merely by tripling Congressional appropriations for a super-loud Voice of America,” he de­ clared in a major speech on psychological warfare during his 1952 campaign. “Rather it will be the planned and effective use of every means of appeal to men and women everywhere.”6 Mere words could only accomplish so much; they needed to be harmonized with deeds. Statements of principle needed to be backed up with hard evidence, and policies and actions needed to reflect “psychological” considerations. Accordingly, Eisenhower was convinced that the U.S. policymaking machinery needed to consider world public opinion when designing, implementing, and presenting U.S. foreign policies abroad. He believed, as he wrote to Nelson Rockefeller, that “every economic, security, and political policy of the government manifestly is one of the weapons (or should be) in psychological warfare.”7 Such thinking was reflected in the influential findings of a high-level com­ mittee appointed by Elsenhower in the first days of his administration to make recommendations on how to strengthen the U.S. psychological warfare effort. The President’s Committee on International Information Activities—informally known as the “Jackson Committee” alter its chainnan, investment banker and intelligence service veteran William H. Jackson—presented its findings in mid1953-8 Potentially the most far reaching conclusion of the Jackson Committee was its finding that psychological warfare was inseparable from other aspects o f U.S. foreign policy. The committee felt that since all U.S. actions had psy­ chological repercussions, slick word plays and traditional propaganda tactics

6

K enneth A . Osgood

by themselves were insufficient to win the global battle for hearts and minds. According to the committee’s final report, “propaganda cannot be expected to be the determining factor in deciding major Issues. The United States is judged less by what it says through official information outlets than by the actions and attitudes of the Government in international affairs and tlie actions and atti­ tudes of its citizens and officials, abroad and at home.” In short, the committee advised, “The cold war cannot be won by words alone. What we do will con­ tinue to be vastly more important than what we say.”9 Thus, the committee advised, psychological considerations should intm de on the very policymaking process itself—a conclusion Eisenhower readily endorsed.10 Eisenhower and his advisors called it “psychological strategy,” a tenu that signified a dose relationship between international public opinion, persuasion, and the formulation of national security policies. As William II. Jackson explained it, “A profound concern for public opinion in tire coun­ tries affected must be a consideration and an ingredient in the whole process of government, in the planning stage, in the formulation and determination of policy, in the coordination and timing of operations and finally in the last phase of enunciation, explanation and interpretation by government offi­ cials, and expression in information programs.” In short, “producing an ef­ fect on public opinion is the objective of our coasidering the psychological implicatioas involved in any governmental action or pronouncem ent.”11 Psychological strategy boiled down to a belief that mere words were not enough. For psychological warfare to be effective, the whole posture of gov­ ernment must reflect “psychological” consideraiioas. Eisenhower created new bureaucratic stmetures to facilitate the imple­ mentation of this far-reaching concept of psychological strategy. One his first acts as president was the appointment of a personal advisor to serve as a spe­ cial assistant for psychological warfare planning—a position first held by his wartime psychological warfare chief C. D. Jackson.12 Eisenhower also over­ saw the creation of an independent propaganda agency, the U.S. Informa­ tion Agency (USIA) and he created a high-level coordinating body devoted to psychological warfare and strategy, the Operations Coordinating Board (OCB), which replaced the Tmman administration’s ineffectual Psychologi­ cal Strategy Board. Similarly, the National Security Council was iastructed to consider psychological factors when formulating national security policies.13 The idea of psychological warfare as tein g a “total” activity, intrinsically bound up with other aspects of national policy, nins counter to geneial con­ ceptions. Psychological warfare in the Cold War context Is mast frequently associated with the policies of “liberation” and “rollback,” an association fa­ cilitated by the campaign rhetoric of John Foster Dulles and the Republican Party platform, which implied that Elsenhower’s new and invigorated psy­ chological warfare effort would focus on “liberating” Eastern Europe from communist enslavement.14 For all the campaign rhetoric about “liberation”

W orth a n d D eeds

7

and “rollback," President Truman’s administration conducted a far more as­ sertive program of anti-Soviet psychological warfare than his more bellicose sounding Republican successors.1’ Eisenhower himself adopted a cool atti­ tude toward the idea of “liberation” from the beginning. In his view, the m ore important battle for hearts and minds was on the other side of the Iron Curtain, in the so-called free world. Reflecting this view, the newly created U.S. Information Agency considered its principle charge the management of public opinion in the noncommunist wotkl. According to strategic principles which guided the agency’s opera­ tions: “We are in competition with Soviet Communism primarily lor the opin­ ion of the free world. We are (especially) concerned with the uncommitted, the wavering, the confused, the apathetic, or the doubtful within the free w orld.”16 The Information Agency oversaw more than 200 posts in over 90 countries, most of them in the Third World, and none of them liehind the iron or bam boo “curtaias.” The posts were known abroad by their wartime desig­ nation, U.S. Information Service (USIS). At the end of the decade, roughly 50 of these USIS posts were in Europe; 84 in Asia and die Middle East; 40 in Latin America; and 34 in Africa. This global scope of the USIA was observed by the British Foreign Office. “The target of the USIA is not simply, or even prepon­ derantly, public opinion within the Soviet Union or die Soviet Ortiit,” one For­ eign Office official observed. “H ie main target is public opinion in the nonSoviet work! and particularly public opinion among those who are not hilly committed to opposition to Soviet communism.”17 Developments in the international arena that coincided with Eisenhower’s presidency made this global propaganda balde appear more significant. Of particular importance, the death of Joseph Stalin in March 1953 saw the ad­ vent of a new Soviet foreign policy predicated on “peaceful coexistence.” Stalin’s successors repudiated the most odious aspects of Stalin’s foreign pol­ icy, appeared eager to resolve intractable Cold War issues, and acdvely courted work! opinion. Stalin’s confrontadonal tactics—in such forms as die Berlin blockade and support for the Korean War—had driven jittery allies into the American camp, but with his death and the easuing soft line in So­ viet foreign policy, fear of overt Soviet aggression diminished. With Stalin’s successors publicly clamoring for negotiations, the rigid anti-communism of Eisenhower and Dulles—not to mention Joseph McCarthy—led many inter­ national observers to see the United States as the greater threat to interna­ tional peace and stability."* As a result, the psychological warfare initiatives of Eisenhower’s first ad­ ministration emphasized first and foremost the U.S. commitment to peace and disarmament. Between 1953 and 1955, Eisenhower psychologkral war­ fare advisors devised three major campaigns to cast doubt on Moscow’s peace campaigns and to prove to the world the peaceful intentioas of the United States. The Chance for Peace speech, and to an even greater extent

8

K enneth A. Osgood

the Atoms for Peace and Open Skies proposals, exemplified Eisenhower’s idea of political warfare.19 Their objective: demoastnite the moral superior­ ity of the United States and the insincerity of the communists, thereby preparing the proverbial psychological groundwork for the nuclear weapons buildup taking place under the administration’s "New Look” national secu­ rity policy. Modeled on the communist peace campaigns of the late 1940s and the bacteriological warfare scandal of the Korean War, these campaigns drew their inspiration from Moscow’s example.20 They were high-level gov­ ernmental initiatives originating from the White House, backed up with con­ crete actions in the diplomatic and policy arenas, publicized endlessly by the USIA, and exploited to the fullest by every arm of the executive branch. These psychological warfare campaigns were carefully orchestrated, and, in every sense of the word, massive in scope. The Atoms for Peace initiative Is a case in point. The kickoff for the cam­ paign was Eisenhower’s December 1953 speech to the United Nations where he proposed that the U.S. and USSR contribute fissionable materials to an in­ ternational authority to be used for peaceful purposes, 'llie proposal itself was presented as an arms control measure, but it was one that the Soviets were sure to reject, thereby scoring die United States points before world opinion. In its diplomacy, the Elsenhower administration sought to continu­ ally publicize Soviet rejection of the plan in order to contrast American will­ ingness to negotiate with Soviet intraasigence. Meanwhile, the Operatioas Coordinating Board orchestrated an extraordinary public relations campaign that saw every arm of the executive branch—from the Department of Labor to the past office—hyping the proposal in statements and press releases. Nonprofit organizations, civic grounds, businesses, and private individuals also contributed to the campaign through such tactics as mailing copies of Eisenhower’s speech to contacts oversees, adopting resolutions endorsing Atoms for Peace, and printing quotations from the speech in newsletters.21 The USIA likewise devoted tremendous resources to promoting Atoms for Peace by publicizing U.S. progress in the field of the peaceful uses of atomic energy. In virtually every country, the peaceful uses of atomic energy ranked as a top propaganda theme. The USIA churned out news story after news story hyping U.S. discoveries and accomplishments in peaceful atomic re­ search; it sent traveling Atoms for Peace exhibits to dozens of countries; it produced scores of films highlighting peaceful atomic research; and its radio broadcasts included regular features on the subject.22 The campaign went beyond mere publicity to intersect with development and aid projects as the Eisenhower administration positioned itself as the leading supporter o f atomic power. The United States offered technical assistance and small amounts of fissionable materials for the construction of power reactors abroad. The administration pledged thousands of kilograms of fissionable material for the constniction of reactors and by the end of the decade, some

Words a n d D eeds

9

thirty-eight bilateral agreements had been signed and more than thirty re­ search reactors had been approved for construction.23 The campaign, in short, fulfilled Eisenhower’s vision of an “ideal” psycho­ logical warfare effort, one where “every significant act of government (was) so timed and so directed at a principal target, and so related to other gov­ ernm ental actions, that i t . . . (produced) maximum effect.”24 Beginning with the positive, substantive, proposal on the part of the president and continu­ ing to the coordinated exploitation of the “friendly atom” by both govern­ mental and private resources, Atoms for Peace was probably the largest peacetim e psychological warfare operation in U.S. history. O ther psychological warfare initiatives endeavored to mimic (albeit on a smaller scale) the design of Atoms for Peace—blending high-level govern­ m ent action across a range of fronts with private activities, conventional propaganda tactics, covert operations, and diplomacy. Among the adminis­ tration’s campaigns were programs for publicizing U.S. disarmament initia­ tives, such as Open Skies and atomic testing; highlighting U.S. achievements in science and technology, including outer space exploration; promoting an image of the U.S. economy as a “people’s capitalism” that benefited all Amer­ icans; portraying the American way of life positively as a story of social, eco­ nomic, and political progress; developing an American “ideology” to counter communism; using aid programs as signs of the U.S. commitment to world­ wide economic development; dispelling crude cultural stereotypes about Americaas; and many others.25

DECOLONIZATION AND THE PROPAGANDA WAR IN THE THIRD WORLD

In every way—planning, scope, inteasity, and orchestration—these massive psychological warfare campaigas contrasted the administration’s efforcs to woo the Third World. Although American officials increasingly identified de­ velopments in the Third World as grave threats to U.S. interests, the Eisen­ hower administration failed to craft even a modest program of public per­ suasion to deal with the vexing problems generated by the cnimbling of the old European colonial empires. This failure in psychological strategy devel­ oped logically from the larger difficulty the administration had in crafting foreign policies that could win the hearts and minds of Third World peoples escaping from the yoke of colonialism. To these people, imperialism, not communism, represented the greatest threat to their peace and security, and the United States too often appeared to be aligned with the imperialist pow­ ers struggling to maintain their empires.26 American policymakers worried that the Soviet Union would profit from the dismantling of European empires to alter the international status quo in

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K enneth A. Osgood

its favor. Even before Khrushchev’s famous speech declaring Soviet support for national wars of liberation, Moscow promoted itself as a genuine sup­ porter of anti-colonial movements in the Third World. The Soviets utilized a combination of flexible diplomacy, liberal trade and aid offers, and cultural, educational, and technical exchanges to build closer ties to the developing world. With Stalin gone and his successors apparently demonstrating their peaceful intentions, administration officials feared that previously “periph­ eral” states would gravitate voluntarily into the Soviet orbit, as a result o f sympathy to communist ideology, lingering hostility to European imperial­ ists, material necessity, or admiration for Soviet industrial and technological feats.27 Although the United States enjoyed a clear preponderance of pow er vis-à-vis the Soviet Union throughout the 1930s, intelligence analysts saw these developments as “an even more serious threat to the Free World than . . . Stalin’s aggressive postwar policies.”28 Chinese communist propaganda was equally worrisome to American officials, since the country’s former status as a plaything of the empires appeared to establish its anti-colonial bona fides. Yet for all this new communist attention to the Third World, the USIA con­ sistently reported that nationalism and anti-colonialism represented more se­ rious challenges to American influence in the Third World than communism. In the Middle East, Arab nationalism coming from Nasser’s Egypt was a far greater concern to U.S. propaganda experts than communism, which had lit­ tle appeal to the predominantly Muslim population of the region. To many Arab nations, the United States appeared to be the inheritor of the British po­ sition in the region and the U.S. correspondingly inherited Arab anti-colonial suspicions. As the agency reported to the NSC, “While Communist propa­ ganda continued to attack the U.S. as imperialistic, of more concern . . . was nationalistic propaganda from the area which carried the same line. This ap­ plied particularly to the Pan-Arabic movement led by President Nasser of the UAR. This propaganda machine professed UAR ’neutralism’ but, for what­ ever motive, the propaganda was aimed primarily against the United States and its Western allies.” The main task for the U.S. policy, the agency contin­ ued, “was to show Arab peoples that, contrary to Egyptian and Soviet prop­ aganda charges, the United States does indeed favor Arab nationalism and the drive for Arab unity.”29 Likewise in Africa, w here the pace of decolonization gathered steam only at the end of the decade, the agency identified communism as only one small element of a broad range of psychological forces which imper­ iled U.S. influence in Africa. The USIA explained that “Itlhe African’s mind Is not made up, and he Is being subjected to a num ber of contradictory forces: xenophobic nationalism, Egyptian ‘islamic’ propaganda, PanAfricanism, Afro-Asian unity, tribal rivalry, federation, sectionalism, Com-

W onts a n d Deads

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munism, anti-economic imperialism, and Western appeals for orderiy de­ velopm ent.”30 Not surprisingly, a greater concern for most Africans was colonialism , not communism. M ote so than elsewhere, communism appealed to anti-colonial move­ ments in Asia. The Eisenhower administration emharked on a number of anti-communist psychological warfare programs in die region, including covert anti-communist indoctrination programs in Thailand and Indonesia, program s to paint communist ideas as antithetical to Buddhism, efforts to prop up the Diem regime in South Vietnam, and other anti-communist agi­ tation.31 But here too, the greatest propaganda problem facing the United States was its identification as a supporter of European imperialism. As a study of U.S. information programs in Asia noted, “Despite our massive eco­ nom ic aid and military assistance, . . . our anti-colonial record, our recog­ nized good intentions, our free and diverse society, we seem to be becom­ ing m ore identified with the negative aspects of the past and the status quo, particularly among younger people.”32 The problem, of course, was that the United States was forced to walk a delicate line betw een supporting anti-colonial movements in the Third World and alienating U.S. allies in Europe. On the issue of colonialism, the United States in its propaganda work was placed in a difficult position. Psyw arriors wanted to identify the United Stales with anti-imperialism and anti-colonialism , but such an identification clashed markedly with U.S. al­ lies w ho were seeking to maintain imperial influence in the developing world. For the USIA, it was an impossible position. As the agency noted of its problem s winning public opinion in Africa, the USIA “followed an often difficult path betw een African suspicion of the United States for ils identi­ fication with the colonial powers and European suspicion of U.S. support of African aspirations.”33 The Elsenhower administration tried to cope with these challenges by branding the Soviet Union as an imperialist power. Propaganda specialists developed the theme of “Exposing Red Colonialism” to persuade Third World peoples that the expansion of Soviet influence represented a new and m ore powerful form of colonialism. Year alter year, USIA reports to the Na­ tional Security Council identified the issue of colonialism as an intractable propaganda problem. Not once during the decade dkl the agency submit a positive report on the Issues of colonialism and imperialism. Soviet and Chi­ nese efforts to portray themselves as “the only sincere friends of people seeking independence” were far more effective than U.S. efforts to portray itself as the advocate of peaceful change.34 As the National Security Council frankly admitted, “Western attempts to picture Soviet Russia as a colonial power itself have simply not been believed."35 For most countries, European imperialism was a much more real danger than communism.

12

K enneth A . Osgood

THE PROBLEM OF RACE

Questions pertaining to American racial attitudes further handicapped U.S. efforts to win the hearts and minds of die Third World. Indeed, American race relations were one of die most vexing propaganda problems facing th e United States Information Agency. Mary Dudziak has shown that even be­ fore the civil rights clashes of the mid-1950s and 1960s brought U.S. racism and segregation to television sets around the world, American race relations were exerting a powerful impact on international views of die United States.36 In the postcolonial parts of the world, colonialism and racism w ere inextricably linked, and the persistence of segregation in the American South did considerable damage to the U.S. image overseas.37 Communist propaganda exploited American racism to the fullest, using depictions of racial inequality to ridicule American claims of freedom and equality. American racial discrimination was one of the principal Soviet propaganda themes regarding the United States. American diplomats and in­ formation officers frequently complained about communist propaganda o n American race relations. Soviet publications reported the “frequency of ter­ roristic acts against negroes” and explained that in the American South “semi-slave forms of oppression and exploitation are the m le.” According to the U.S. Embassy in Moscow, “|T|he Soviet press hammers away unceasingly on such things as ‘lynch law’, segregation, racial discrimination, deprivation of political rights, etc., seeking to build up a picture of America in which the Negroes are brutally downtrodden with no hope of improving their status under the existing form of government.”38 Other communist governm ents followed Moscow’s lead, giving heavy emphasis to American racial discrim­ ination in their worldwide propaganda output. China, in particular, utilized the race question “with particular effect” as a major propaganda instnunent in Africa and Asia.39 But even if communist propaganda was silent on the issue, racial discrim­ ination would have continued to attract international attention. Throughout the postwar period, international media coverage of the “American Negro Problem” was widespread and overwhelmingly critical. In the developing world, American race relatioas received especially intease scrutiny. H ie fact that nonwhite foreign dignitaries who visited the United States were often subjected to the same discriminatory treatment as nonwhite Aniericaas en­ sured international press coverage and diplomatic protest. In 1947, for ex­ ample, a representative of the Haitian government was forced to stay in ser­ vant’s quarters in a Biloxi hotel for “reasoas of color.” The Haitian ambassador lodged a complaint to the State Department while Haitian edi­ torials attacked American democracy as a sham, declaring that “the Negro o f Haiti understands that the word democracy in the United States lias no meaning.”40 Similar incidents occurred throughout the postwar period. The

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State Department reported that between 1957-1961, fourteen such incidents occurred involving diplomats from Africa, Asia, the Caribbean, and Latin America. Such incidents received prominent press play in their home coun­ tries and elsewhere. When a diplomat from Nigeria was refused service in a restaurant in Viiginia, for example, Nigerian papers expressed their “horror and dismay" at American racial discrimination. A Lagos D aily !Times com­ ment was typical of international press coverage of such incidents: “By this disgraceful act of racial discrimination, the U.S. forfeits its claim to world leadership."41 The US1A sought to put civil rights issues “in perspective” by emphasizing the progress minority groups had made over the course of American history. While admitting that racial discrimination was indeed a problem in American life, the agency stressed that the United States was progressing on the road to equal opportunity. USIA policy iastnictions directed its personnel to iden­ tify “without too much obviousness” each “newsworthy” instance of achieve­ m ent by African Americans. Stories of discrimination were to be balanced by materials that showed audiences “the social mobility of our population” or that “the income level erf Negroes and other minority groups . . . has steadily risen.” The agency explained, “We should seek especially to show progress in the fields of civil rights, employment, education, armed forces, sports, en­ tertainment, ait, housing, business and government by individuals and groups, with major emphasis on interracial cooperation. Toward this end, the agency distributed features on African American leaders to local news­ reel companies, promoted music by African American musicians on radio programs, published biographies of prominent African Americans, and gave paperback books on “the American Negro” to secondary schools and uni­ versities.43 Prominent African American entertainers were likewise sent on goodwill tours by the government. The State Department sponsored tours by the likes of Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie, the Harlem Globetrotters, Mar­ ian Anderson, and the folk opera Porgy a n d Bess.** African American lectur­ ers and Fulbright grantees were similarly used as “living demonstrations of Negro cultural and intellectual advancements in the US and as authoritative sources of information on race problems and progress toward their solution in the US.” Perhaps most importantly, the USIA exploited “to the fullest” the 1954 Supreme Court decision in Brawn v. Board o f Education that reversed the doctrine erf “separate but equal.” Despite the fact that Eisenhower was “profoundly ambivalent” about the decision, the USIA used the Brown deci­ sion as evidence of the American repudiation of racial discrimination, and ar­ ticles on the decision were placed in “almost every” publication of the agency.45 Although the Brown decision provided the USIA with powerful material to counter images of racial discrimination in the United States, widespread re­ sistance to the Supreme Court's decision quickly marred the picture. The

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brutal murder of Emmett TUI in 1955, the mol-) protests which greeted Autherine Lucy’s attempt to enroll in the University of Alalxima in 1956, th e 1955-1956 Montgomery bus boycott, the opposition to desegregation o r­ ganized by white citizens’ councils, and the adoption of anti-integration state statutes by many Southern states directed public attention abroad to Ameri­ can racism. The 1957 Little Rock crisis made matters much worse, precipitating a ver­ itable crises in international perceptions of American race relations and d e ­ mocracy. In many countries, stories on the Little Rock crisis dominated th e news. U.S. embassies around the world cabled the State Department to re­ port the damage events in Litde Rock were doing to international opinion o f the United States. Secretary of State John Foster Dulles complained that th e “situation was ruining our foreign policy. The effect of this in Asia and Africa will be worse for us than Hungary was for the Russians.”'* Ultimately, as Cary Fraser has argued, the international reaction to the crisis was a factor that in­ fluenced Elsenhower’s decision to send federal troops to Little Rock.47 Still, images of armed military personnel escorting young children to school w ere not helpful to the USIA’s message of racial progress. The USIA sought to place the A nerican use of force in Little Rock in perspective by contrasting it with the uses of force in the Soviet Union: “In the Little Rock incident na­ tional authority has been invoked to maintain (thel equal rights of a minor­ ity. In the Soviet Union national authority has been repeatedly invoked to suppress the rights of minorities.” Whatever the problems in the United States, the agency stressed, they paled in comparison to the brutal suppres­ sion of human rights in the Soviet Union.* Despite these efforts, public opin­ ion surveys indicated that the world was not convinced of Anerican racial progress. In fact, the international impression of the Anerican record on race deteriorated markedly as civil rights clashes in the South contravened the agency’s message of progress.49 The USIA’s propaganda, along with recent historical scholarship on race and foreign relations during the early Cold War, might lead one to conclude that mending the Anerican record on racial matters was a major preoccupa­ tion of Eisenhower’s psywarriors. But in fact, when one places the effort to smooth over international perceptions of American racism with other prop­ aganda efforts of the time, the effort appears more modest, if not paltry and inadequate.50 The Operations Coordinating Board involved itself in all major public relations issues pertaining to international affairs from space explo­ ration to cultural exchanges, but it virtually ignored race in its psychological operations plans. There was no systematic plan for dealing with a problem that all officials concerned with international public opinion acknowledged as a serious blot on the Anerican image. Here, race and colonialism stood in stark contrast to other issues which preoccupied U.S. information planners. Thomas Borstelmann’s conclusion that Elsenhower “failed to recognize either

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the centrai moral issue involved in racial inequality or the significance of race relations in the modern world” was tme for the propaganda war as well.91 To a certain extent, Elsenhower’s failure to grasp the implications of race relations for U.S. foreign policy toward the Tliird World Is not surprising. It would he hard to imagine Elsenhower, who personally did not approve of the Brown decision, leading a propaganda charge to sell the work! on Amer­ ican color blindness.92 Elsenhower resisted talcing tlie assertive stand on civil rights that American propagandists so badly needed to convince the world that the United Slates was indeed progressing toward racial equality. He re­ fused to adopt even a strong rhetorical stance opposing segregation, prefer­ ring instead to utter bland platitudes about the limits of federal authority. Even as he sent troops into Little Rock, Eisenhower tailed to condemn racism or segregation, invoking instead the imperative of restoring order to defend federal intervention.93 There is a striking contradiction in Elsenhower’s thought and behavior here. He believed more strongly than perhaps any other president in the importance of public persuasion as an instrument of foreign policy, but he convinced himself that he could do nothing to affect views about race in his own country. His self-proclaimed belief that he coukl not change people’s views on racial matters with mere words stands in stark contrast to his avid endorsement of propaganda to mold popular attitudes on other matters. W hen it came to colonialism, the problem was the same. The most serious difficulty confronting the USIA in trying to convince peoples in the develop­ ing world that their interests were best served by allying themselves with the United States stemmed from the absence of strong, positive American poli­ cies or postures. Leaders in Africa, for example, frequently complained that the United States had no policy toward Africa other than to thwart commu­ nist designs in the region. Without positive, high-level statements from the Eisenhower administration about U.S. commitment to the region, and with­ out concrete gestures of support for decolonization, the USIA had little to work with. The United States was judged less by what it said through official information outlets than by the actions and attitudes of the government and its citizens. As a study of U.S. propaganda policy noted at the end of the decade, “U.S. policies and actions—domestic as well as international—have more psychological and political im pact. . . than ’information’ programs.”94 The administration needed tangible actions and policies if it hoped to prove the anti-colonialist credentials it touted in its propaganda.

THE TURN TO CULTURAL DIPLOMACY

With neither a solid policy base nor a coherent psychological strategy for the Third World, the Eisenhower administration turned to cultural diplomacy to

16

K enneth A. Qsgootl

build long-range cultural and intellectual ties to the Third World. In this con­ text, "cultural diplomacy” signifies the use of artistic, intellectual, linguistic, and cultural productions as instruments of state policy. It differs from prop­ aganda and psychological warfare in that cultural diplomacy does not seek to effect immediate changes in the attitudes, perceptions, and values of tar­ get audiences, but instead seeks to gradually mold them over a long period of time. It is thus less involved in the favorable "spinning” of contemporary affairs than in fostering long-term intellectual and altitudinal developments that would enhance U.S. influence and prestige while creating a positive climate for the implementation of U.S. foreign policies. Unlike propaganda and psychological warfare, which typically taiget mass audiences, cultural diplomacy seeks primarily to influence political and intellectual elites. It at­ tempts to foster a form of "ideational integration” connecting influential seg­ ments of foreign societies to the United Slates through common intellectual, cultural, and social ties.1’5 Embarking on a tactical shift from robust psychological warfare and prop­ aganda to cultural diplomacy, the US1A placed increased emphasis on tar­ geting the leadership elements in the new independent states as the decade progressed. Rather than directly appealing to the masses through overt forms of propaganda, the US1A sought to influence the attitudes of military officers, youth and student leaders, labor leaders, intellectuals and educators through a few priority activities. Such efforts were ultimately about expanding U.S. political influence among the segment of the population most likely to exer­ cise power. Elsenhower’s cultural diplomacy programs sought to folge cul­ tural and intellectual links with these individuals in the hopes that they would push their countries to "lean” to the side of the United States. The teaching of English emeiged as one of the agency’s top priorities for developing long-range influence in the Third World. A presidential commis­ sion to study U.S. information activities recommended in I960 a “conscious and sustained effon on the part of the government to promote the accept­ ance of English as a universal language.” Establishing English as the interna­ tional language would tie Third World nations culturally and intellectually to the United States. It was believed that, in Africa for example, "(o]ne of the greatest long-term opportunities Africa offers is die possibility of making English the lingua franca for Africa south. . . . The psychological impact o f having English the lingua franca of the area cannot be overemphasized and every effort should be made to promote this objective.”56 Moreover, English teaching classes themselves offered opportunities for the United States to promote American ideas and defend American values directly to the leader­ ship element it sought to influence. As the US1S post in Thailand reported, USIS officers engaged in formal teaching at local schools and universities, an activity that allowed diem direct access to the targets of their persuasive ef­

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forts. “In an upcountiy province,” the post in Thailand reported, “a teacher of English with his USIS film projector and a small library of USIS books Ihecamel an important figure in the educational life of the area."'7 In I960, the USIA provided personal language instruction to 175,000 students in 46 coun­ tries, and special training to an additional 6,344 local teachers of English in 37 countries.^ To exploit educational processes abroad to expand U.S. influence, U.S. propaganda and cultural diplomacy made a particular effort to target teach­ ers. The OCB explained, “If we can get teachers to believe in our ap­ proaches, way of life, and educational methods and they enthusiastically support these ideas with their pupils, we can go for toward holding the line against Communism.” U te State Department managed a “teacher develop­ m ent” program which brought foreign teachers to the United States for a sixm onth stay at American universities. Upon arriving in the United States, gram recipients spent two weeks in Washington receiving an “introduction to American life” and, before departing the country, returned to Washington for additional “orientation. ”w The USIA also prioritized its book, publication, and library programs. The United States embarked on a sustained effort to increase the flow of Ameri­ can books abroad, particularly in the Third World. The Operations Coordi­ nating Board and USIA orchestrated several programs to subsidize the pub­ lication, distribution, and authorship of books deemed useful to U.S. psychological strategy. These programs included a secret “Ideological War­ fare” program to produce and distribute books challenging communist ide­ ology and articulating democratic principles, a translation program to reprint American books in foreign languages, and several overt and covert subsi­ dization programs to make American books cheap and affordable to stu­ dents, teachers, and intellectuals in the Third World. In addition, USIS posts abroad secretly contracted local writers to produce “unattributed” books on themes useful to the agency’s programs. Other tactics emphasized in the agency’s long-range approach included the promotion of American studies abroad, the establishment of more USIS libraries and reading rooms, and the creation of “bi-national centers” directly engaged in outreach to select audi­ ences, especially universities.60 The Eisenhower administration also worked to send American textbooks overseas, reasoning that the books would both foster goodwill and nurture ties to the United States. In addition, U.S. officials devised programs to insert pro-democracy and anti-communist themes into various kinds of textbooks, including English-language texts. H ie Foreign Operations Administration (a foreninner to the Agency for International Development), offered grants to indigenous authors to stimulate the writing of textbooks which included favorable analyses of American thought and institutions. To reach people

18

K enneth A . Osgood

with only small English vocabularies, the US1A managed a “books in simple English program.” The agency translated books on American history and culture into simplified English suitable for persons with English vocabularies ranging from 1,000 to 5,000 words. Many of the translated and abridged books carried “ideological or anti-Communist themes.”61 This increased emphasis on cultural diplomacy over psychological war­ fare and propaganda in pari reflected a gradual shift in U.S. psychological strategy that was taking place across the board. As Walter Hixson has argued, the U.S. approach to international persuasion evolved gradually from ag­ gressive anti-communist psychological warfare to a strategy predicated on cultural infiltration.62 But whereas Hixson sees “cultural infiltration” predom ­ inantly as a rejection of the “liberation” strategy, in fact oilier forces were at work here. U.S. planners came to the realization that crude psychological warfare tactics generally failed because taiget audiences were hostile to any­ thing smacking of “propaganda.” They concluded that U.S. efforts would be more persuasive if the hand of the U.S. government were concealed, and the propagandistic intentions masked. Another reason for the emphasis on the cultural approach stemmed from increasing restrictions posed on USIA operations by foreign governments. Over the course of the decade, many governments increasingly imposed severe limitations on the overt propa­ ganda activities of the USIA such as press, publications, motion pictures, and radio activities. English teaching and cultural programs, however, were gen­ erally tolerated. The USIA noted in a report to (he NSC, “English-teaching programs are often acceptable to and sometimes even welcomed by gov­ ernments which clamp down tightly on media operations. So are various cul­ tural activities if they are not too blatant or showy.”63 As a result, brazen propaganda programs were scaled back, and effons to establish cultural and intellectual links to world communities to enhance U.S. influence over the long haul were emphasized. In the newly independent nations in the Third World, this long-range approach sought to solidify Amer­ ican cultural and intellectual leadership, and to implant a reliance among in­ tellectuals on American thought and research. While this cultural approach may have improved the U.S. position over the long haul, in the shoit term it betrayed the broader failure of U.S. informa­ tion policy to effectively win the hearts and minds of many Itiird World au­ diences. This was a failure not so much of words, but of deeds. No amount of sloganeering or spin-doctoring could counter the refusal of the Elsen­ hower administration to take a strong stand against colonialism abroad and racism at home. It was a point Elsenhower understood in principle, but was unable to translate into practice. He had explained in his 1952 “psychologi­ cal warfare speech” that as a nation “everything we say, everything we do, and everything we fail to say or to do, will have its impact in other lands.”64 He was right.

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NOTES 1. Robert R. Bowie and Richard H. Immerman, Waging Peace: How Eisenbouvr Shaped a n Enduring Cold War Strategy r of Decemlier 1941. 'liiere followed many months of hear­ ings, staff inquiries, and inteasive pondering of the Issues. The joint investi­ gation published its conclusions in late 1946. In its coasidered view Congress held that tlte U.S. system for handling intelligence had been flawed by defi­ ciencies in coordination and evaluation of information by the different de­ partments (Congress was specifically coasidering the U.S. armed forces, as each branch reported to a different department of the executive), in addition to misconceived personnel and other practices. H ie recommendation w as “to avoid all tile pitfalls of divided respoasibilities which experience has made so abundantly evident.”1 Arguments were made on Capitol Hill and elsewhere that if the United States had had a centralized intelligence system the Pearl Harbor disaster could have been averted. lliis argument formed a portion of a larger debate as to whether the United States ought to have a peacetime intelligence agency at all. The Of­ fice of Strategic Services (OSS) had served this function during World War II, increasing to a peak of 15,000 employees by 1945, but it had lieen abolished by President Truman that September. A small fragment of the OSS oiganization had lieen taken over by the Department of State and anodier was farmed out to the War Department. The organization was deemed unsatis­ factory from the beginning, and in January 1946 the White House created an entity called the Central Intelligence Group (CIG), with a National Intelli­ gence Authority to coordinate the various spy agencies. 'Hie latter unit had no budget authority or operational arm. H ie CIG initially was authorized only 165 employees and by June 1946 had hired just 84 of them. H ie organ­ ization began operations out of a suite of three rooms next door to the White House. It did recapture the intelligence unit previously taken over by the War Department, which liecame the Office of Special Operations, the CIG’s espi­ onage unit. By the end of 1946 the CIG had 1,816 personnel of whom aliout 800 were with the Office of Special Operatioas. A lengthy process of ma­ neuvers among the agencies and schemes for intelligence organization led to the inclusion in the National Security Act of 1947 of a unified—and much larger—Central Intelligence Agency.2 Anodier strand in the postwar period was the enieiging Cold War between the United States and Soviet Union. World War 11 had ended with Russian forces poised along the Ellie River in Germany, and rising fears aliout die intendoas of Soviet leader Joseph Stalin. In the early months after the war there were crises over Turkey and the Bosporus, the seaway between die Black

The CIA a n d tb e Face o f D ecolonization

29

Sea and Mediterranean, and over Iran, along with tensions on the line of con­ tact betw een the two sides in Europe. As the Russians moved to impose friendly governments in Eastern European nations they occupied, the West becam e convinced of communist hostility. Berlin, in particular, where occu­ pation duties were shared among American, British, French, and Soviet troops was a continuing point of friction, and the Berlin blockade of 1948-1949 can be said to have locked the East and West into their Cold War confrontation. The Central Intelligence Agency was caught up in the shifting currents of this confrontation from its very birth. In the fall of 1947, after passage of the National Security Act that created both the CIA and the Office of the Secre­ tary o f Defense, the first incumbent of that office, Secretary James M. Forrestal, inquired as to whether the CIA would be able to undertake secret mili­ tary and political campaigns on behalf of the United States. The agency replied it would carry out any mission assigned by President Tniman’s National Security Council (NSC) for which resources were made available. On December 13, 1947, an NSC meeting discussed die possibility of a secret propaganda campaign. The following day Truman signed a directive, NSC-4/A, which assigned the mission to CIA. A week later the agency estab­ lished a Special Procedures Group within its Office of Special Operations to carry out these activities.3 The connection of the CIA's incipient covert action capabilities with the conflict against Russia was made expUcit in June 1918, when Tniman issued a second NSC directive expanding the propaganda mission to include all m anner of clandestine activities. The document, NSC-10/2 stated that itlh e National Security Council, taking cognizance of the vicious covert activities of the USSR . . . has determined that, in the interests of world peace and US national security, the oven foreign activities of the US Government must be supplem ented by coven operations.”4 These arrangements created a new unit, the Office of Policy Coordination (OPC), loosely suspended between the CIA, the State Department, and the Departm ent of Defense for administrative purposes, but within the CIA for all others, to carry out the coven action program. A White House committee known as the 10/2 Panel authorized operations while keeping the president out o f the action, so that he would have what became known as “plausible deniability.” Incipient operations dictated by NSC-10/2 included aiding antiSoviet partisan movements then underway in the Ukraine and the Baltic States. But the CIA made only small efforts to engage there, assisting lire British Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) in actions in Lithuania. Other opera­ tions carried out in Russia were primarily of an intelligence-gathering char­ acter. I h e first full-scale covert paramilitary operation actually took place in Albania, along tire Adriatic coast, where a communist government had been emplaced by the Soviets after the end of World War II.5 While that project,

30

Jo h n I*raüos

again a joint effort of CIA and SIS called project “Valuable," aimed at co m ­ munists it also had a colonial overlay to it since Albania had lieen essentially an Italian colony before the war.

THE DECOLONIZATION DRAMA

The intelligence view of colonialism at that time was framed squarely within this notion of Cold War interstate competition. As the CIA expressed it in the same September 1947 review of the world situation, “Of im portant concern in relation to Western European recovery is the existing instability in colonial (or former colonial) areas upon the resources of which several European powers (the United Kingdom, France, and the Netherlands) have hitherto been accustomed to depend. From Morocco to Indonesia the situ­ ation is disturbed by resurgent native nationalism and communal strife. Armed conflict exists betw een natives and Europeans in Indonesia, In­ dochina and Madagascar, and betw een native communities in India an d Pakistan. Armed communal strife is incipient in Palestine. Between Britain and Egypt the matter is one of international dispute. Unrest is w idespread in French North Africa. None of these situations gives promise of early sta­ bilization." The CIA was well aware of the policy implications here: “In these circumstances the traditional liberal policies of the United States an d its interest in early stabilization are in apparent conflict with its interest in supporting friendly European governm ents.”6 This interest in stability h ad as its object the remobilization of the colonial powers on the U.S. side in the Cold War. Missing was an understanding of the longer-term process o f decolonization, which would bring much of the Third World directly in to play in the Cold War competition. Almost a year later the intelligence agency for the first time did an analy­ sis that focused specifically on decolonization. This study from the Office o f Reports and Estimates (ORE), the CIA’s earliest estimative arm, was framed in terms similar to those just quoted. The estimate was known as ORE 25-48 and observed that the breakup of the colonial empires “lias major implica­ tions for US security, particularly in tenus of possible world conflict with the USSR.” Not only did the breakup weaken “the probable European allies o f the US” but it would deprive the United States “of assured access to vital liases and raw materials in these areas in the event of war.” The CIA saw five causes of the phenomenon: the “liottled up” nationalism unleashed by the Japanese defeat of the colonial powers in the war; postwar weakness of the European powers; “the increasing tendency of lilieral-socialist elements in the colonial power»” who favored voluntarily ending their colonial regimes; the emergence of states (like the Soviet Union) that were supportive of an end to colonialism; and the foundation of the United Nations, “which lias

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provided a forum for agitating the colonial issue and a mechanism for its liquidation.”7 The agency analysts had some myopias—they saw “native populations” as harboring deep-seated racial hatreds for their “while overlords” rather than the other way around—hut the CIA also got much of it right. Decolonization w ould continue and strengthen as a process, according to the CIA, which also viewed further instances of nations becoming independent as in­ evitable. It feared the Russians would exploit this process, and in any case, the CIA predicted, all this would result in the emergence of a new power sit­ uation in the former colonial world. Agency analysts also perceived that colonial powers needed to recognize “the irresistible force of nationalism” and take the leadership in moving their dependencies toward selfgovernm ent and eventual independence, and that U.S. efforts to promote self-determination and economic development could lead to charges the United States itself was an imperialist power, with attendant alienation of its own relations with the colonial powers.1*Despite recognizing the pitfalls of the decolonization drama, as the CIA saw it, when it came to operations, the CIA typically supported the colonial powers, when situations involved them, and favored nationalist movements that coukl he bent to anti-communist policies when the powers were not in play.

THE FRONTIERS OF COVERT ACTION

The story of covert action during the Elsenhower administration encom­ passes all the continents where newly emerging countries struggled to build integrated states. Continuity from the Tmman years is shown by actions in French Indochina (soon to he transformed into the two Vietnams), Iran, and Guatemala. The latter two provided the model for subsequent CIA activities. Additional involvements in the Middle East included Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, and Iraq and generally tailed due to an inability to accommodate indigenous nationalisms. In Indonesia the CIA failed to make a basic assessment of the forces at work in the country and relied upon ineffective local allies. In the Congo there was a nish to action that essentially created chaos. Without entering historical arguments over whether the French succeeded in convincing the United States that their campaign in Indochina was an anti­ communist, as opposed to a colonial, campaign, the practical effect of CIA operations was to assist the colonial power. Although little is known about CIA activities prior to 1952, the agency stationed personnel in Vietnam dur­ ing that time. H ie French, jealous of their prerogatives, were resistant to CIA help. In May 1951 the National Security Council approved a policy paper, NSC-90, on “Collaboration with Friendly Governments on Exchange of Information Concerning Guerrilla Operations.”9 Later CIA officers suggested

32

Jo h n Prados

to French commander-in-chief Marshal Jean de Lattre de Tassigny that parti­ san groups should he formed to fight behind rebel lines. De Lattre rejected the advice (though French intelligence soon adopted that very course). In the spring of 1952 this question of unconventional warfare forces arose again at a Washington conference with French minister Jean Letourneau. The issue of supporting partisan warfare became one of two major aspects of the U.S. covert effort in French Indochina. Toward the end of 1952 tile French agreed to host more CIA personnel in Indochina. 'Urey were responsible to the FE-3 branch of the Far East division of OPC, which became FE-4 when the Office of Policy Coordination and the Office of Special Operations m erged to become the Directorate of Plans (DDP). An American was assigned to the partisan organization for the first time. In 1953 the French, anxious to secure greater monetary aid and equipm ent from the United States for the war, approached Washington for supplem en­ tal aid. Intelligence officer Edward G. Lansdale accompanied the military sur­ vey mission sent to Indochina that summer. His recommendations con­ cerned psychological and unconventional warfare. As part of the new aid package the French agreed to the permanent stationing of more CIA and U.S. military specialists to work directly with their partisan command, opening a CIA base at Hanoi for the first time. The French chief of the partisan opera­ tion, then-Major Roger Trinquier, made a hill presentation on Ills unconven­ tional warfare program to a senior CIA officer, at the request of French intel­ ligence (SDECE) in December 1953 and repeated that briefing for another CIA official in March 1954. Progress was sufficient that the U.S. minister in Saigon could report in February 1954: “We are already making [a] contribu­ tion to increased French practice of ‘unconventional warfare’ with some small but promising results.N,wThe second major element of covert U.S. sup­ port for the French was by means of a CIA “proprietary,” or ostensibly pri­ vate enterprise secretly controlled by the intelligence agency. This was Civil Air Transport (CAT), an airline, which began hauling freight and people around French Indochina in the spring of 1953." The French last their colonial stake in Indochina with their defeat at Dien Bien Phu in 1954. Afterwards an independent government of the State of Vietnam (subsequently Republic of Vietnam) under Ngo Dinh Diem offered the opportunity for greatly expanded CIA activity. Edward Laasdale returned to Vietnam as head of one prong of a newly iaspired CIA effort. In Vietnam the agency supported nationalism as a counter to the communism of North Vietnam, but in most colonial settings the typical choice would lie to assist the colonial power. Laasdale himself offers an interesting window on the colonialism ques­ tion. His original claim to fame came in the Philippines, in a postcolonial setting. The U.S. gave independence to the Philippines in 1946 but retained important naval and air bases, of exactly the type early CIA estimates antici­

The CM a n d th e Face o f D ecolonization

33

pated might be threatened by decolonization. There was a communist in­ surgent movement in the Philippines, which had begun as an anti-Japanese resistance in 1942 and had roots in the peasantry of one of the largest islands of the nation. H ie CIA moved actively to assist the government with psy­ chological warfare and political action, programs in which Lansdale had a leading role and for which he won the National Security Medal, the agency’s equivalent of the Congressional Medal of Honor. In the Philippines the CIA was credited with making a president, which is precisely what made Lans­ dale attractive as a candidate lor the nascent CIA political action effort in Vietnam.12 During the Tnunan presidency the Central Intelligence Agency largely avoided full-scale paramilitary operatioas, but it had begun sliding toward them before the end. The biggest CIA efforts of the early 1950s were in Inin and Guatemala, and both were suggested while Harry Truman was still pres­ ident. In the Iranian case it was the British who brought the idea to the United States of overthrowing the legal government of the country, and an American intelligence officer involved in the early exchanges makes the SIS approach plain: “The British understood the extent of paranoia in the United States concerning communism. Those were the days of Senator Joseph Mc­ Carthy’s Un-American Activities Committee Isicl, and the British coasummately played on that fear in order to help persuade as to involve ourselves in the coup.”15 As a keen observer of intelligence history relates, ’’Washing­ ton saw Iran mostly through a Cold War prism, while London viewed it as an Empire and sterling question.”14 Indeed the Iranian government was prob­ lematical for London becaase it would not grant the British favorable tenus for oil exported by the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company, which had enjoyed in­ credibly advantageous arrangements tor decades previously. In the case of Guatemala it was American economic imperialism, in the shape of the United Fmit Company, which felt threatened by the rise of indigenous na­ tionalism. However, Tmman administration officials refused to proceed with the proposed CIA operatioas. Huge changes occurred with the January 1953 inauguration of Dwight D. Eisenhower as president. During the political campaign of the previous year Ike and his foreign policy advisor, John Foster Dulles, who became secretary of state in the new administration, had talked of “rolling buck” Soviet power. In office, with respoasibility for the future of the nation in their hands, Eisen­ hower and Dulles discovered that CIA covert operations agaiast Russia were mostly disasters. Ike also felt the need to revamp U.S. national security pol­ icy for the long tenn with a “New Look” that emphasized nuclear weapoas in preference to conventional ground forces, which made a war agaiast the Soviet Union even more dangerous. A policy review conducted by the White House, Project Solarium, concluded that rolling back the Iron Curtain was not a practicable policy. Instead Eisenhower would meet regional crises with

Jo h n l*nnJos

a combination of nuclear threats and CIA covert actioas. The covert capabil­ ity built specifically to fight Russia would lx: turned on the lliird World. Iran and Guatemala were the first theaters of' the new secret war. Secretary Dulles’s brother Allen became director of central intelligence on February 23, 1953. At that very moment an SIS delegation under British intelligence chief Sir John Sinclair was in Washington bearing a plan for an operation (which the British called “Boot”) to oust the prime minister of Iran. In April the CIA completed an estimate titled “Factors Involved in the Overthrow of Mossadegh” (the Iranian prime minister). By mid-June, after meetings with SIS officials in Beirut, the DDF operators had refined the plan and prepared it for U.S. approval. It was discussed with John Foster Dulles on June 23. Agency analysis who could be expected to oppose the project were left in the dark, and Allen Dulles did not present tlx: views of any CIA officers w ho were agaiast the project, which the CIA duNxxl “Ajax.” The plan went for­ ward and Frime Minister Mossadegh was deposed by a de facto coup after being dismissed, at the behest of the CIA, by the Shah of Iran.15 Regarding Guatemala, the CIA had initiated a project, code-named “For­ tune,” in September 1952, largely at the iastigation of United Fruit, whose huge landholdings in the country were threatened with nationalization by the socialist government. That operation was cancelled in Octolx:r however, after barely a month. A CIA national intelligence estimate nevertheless held that “liln the longer view, continued Communist influence and action in Guatemala will gradually reduce the capabilities of the potentially powerful anti-communist forces to produce a change.”16The Elsenhower White Mouse in the summer of 1953 gave the CIA a green light to plan a fresh operation against the Guatemalan government; the plan was completed that Septem­ ber and swiftly put into execution. Allen Dulles approved a budget of $3 mil­ lion for the project on December 9, 1953, and the action was actually carried out during the spring of 1954, culminating that June, even as the Indochina crisis pulled much of Eisenhower’s attention to die Far East.17 These two CIA-sponsored coups became the prototypes for agency covert operatioas through the remainder of the Eisenhower administration and re­ tained great influence long afterwards. This was true not only at the secret level within die CIA but among key publics. For example the influential newspaper columnist Joseph Alsop, whose brodier and co-writer Stewart had been a CIA officer, had close connectioas with the agency. In private dis­ cussion of political problems on the Arabian peniasula with an academic, Al­ sop wrote that “Ulhe key moves in Saudi Arabia and elsewhere woidd have to take the form of covert operatioas.” Alsop’s biographer Robert W. Merry ohserves that “Joe’s model was the successful 1953 CIA operation in Iran.”,K Allen Dulles, the CIA director, in one of his few public interviews during this period, was asked by U.S. Netvs a n d WorUl Report whether part of his func­ tion was not “to stir up revolutions.” Dulles answered, “We would be foolish

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35

if w e did not cooperate with our friends abroad to help them to do every­ thing they can to explore and counter the Communist subversive move­ m ent. ”ly The administration also held a hill-scale policy review of CIA activ­ ities that year by a blue-ribbon commission chaired by war hero General Jam es Doolittle. On September 30,1954, the Doolittle special study group re­ ported: “As long as it remaias national policy, another important requirement is an aggressive covert psychological, political and paramilitary organization m ore effective, more unique and, if necessary, more aithless than that em­ ployed by the enemy. No one should be permitted to stand in the way of the prom pt, efficient and secure accomplishment of this mission.” After asserting that hitherto accepted forms of human behavior did not apply in the Cokl War struggle, the Doolittle report went on to demand, among other things, that “|w)e must . . . learn to subvert, sabotage and destroy our enemies by m ore clever, more sophisticated and more effective methods than those used against us.”20 Maintaining covert action capability and working with friends to a large degree meant action in conceit with America's British and French allies. Of course allies could have agendas of their own, as different parts of the CIA understood with varying degrees of sophistication, and would be apparent now here more clearly than in the Middle East. Here the agency had started from an advanced point, especially in Egypt, where CIA officers were in touch with radical Egyptian officers even before these individuals overthrew the British colonial satrapy of King Farouk. Mohamed Heikai, journalist, editor, and intimate of nationalist giant Gamal Ahmed Nasser, who emerged as leader of the country for almost two decades, has recounted how Nasser met CIA operative Kermit Roosevelt in September 1952.21 Accounts by former agency officers make clear the CIA had even deeper connections with the Egyptians.22 However, the United States had placed Middle Eastern countries under an arms embargo—-an out­ growth of the Arab-Israeli war of 1948-1949—and Egypt received no w eapoas from the United States. When Nasser asked for money to promote his favored economic development project, the high dam at Aswan, Secre­ tary of State John Faster Dulles, angry at Egypt’s support for die nonaligned movement, whom he suspected of being communist fellow travelers, spurned the Egyptiaas there too. At the same time the French were selling Is­ rael all the weapons they wanted. When Nasser, feeling he had no alterna­ tive, went to the Soviet Bloc, where he got weapons from Czechoslovakia and money from Russia, suddenly U.S. officials had Egypt virtually in the en­ emies’ column. Meanwhile the friends (agency argot for allies) had their own Issues with Egypt, ones that flowed directly from the colonial past. For Great Britain, which had relinquished its bases in the Suez Canal Zone in 1955, this was management, and indeed ownership of the canal, which Nasser nationalized

36

Jo h n Prados

in 1956. For France, (hen fighting a colonial war (o retain control of Algeria, the issue was the use of Egypt as a hase, fund-raising resource, and political and propaganda huh lor the Algerian National Lilieration Front (FIN by its French initials). At the end of March 1956 British Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) officials met with CIA to sell (Item a program, much the same way they had done on previous occasions. One aspect—because Egypt had been try­ ing to unite with Syria in (lie name of pan-Arahism into a single country called the United Arab Republic—would be the overthrow of the Syrian gov­ ernment. Syria had been a French League of Natioas mandate and Iraq a British one; hence there were colonial interests. The British wished to pre­ serve their hold on Iraqi oil, the French to retain a stable Lebanon to guard their stronger position in Lebanon. They would also overthrow Nasser (there was talk of an SIS assassination plot as early as that February). Finally, the British had a favorable relatioaship at die time with the postmandate gov­ ernment of Iraq and wished to bring both the Syrian and the Saudi Arabian leadership into line with their Iraqi cohorts. The French also had a special operations group of their intelligence agency SDECE in Egypt from as early as January 1955. Washington officials, however, refused to go along with ex­ treme measures against Nasser, and Egyptian security services swept up much of the British network in Cairo that August.23 By then Nasser had nationalized the Suez Canal, British Prime Minister An­ thony Eden had promised strong action, and other plots were also aioot. The French were enlisting Israel in a collusion under which an Israeli attack in the Sinai could be used as the rationale for French military intervention in Egypt, a scheme which the British joined. The United States attempted a mul­ tilateral mediation, creating something called the Suez Canal User’s Associa­ tion, but the British and French, with their private plots, were lukewarm par­ ticipants at best, and the initiative came to nothing. Israel came solidly on board for the plot once Egypt blocked the Gulf of Aqaba waterway leading to Israel’s only port on the Red Sea. Final arrangements were made by die plotters at a meeting at Sevres, France, from October 22 to 24, 1956, and the Israelis began their assault in the Sinai five days later. The British and French then made an ultimatum to bodi sides (really aimed only at Nasser) to pull back as Anglo-French forces occupied positions between them. By pre­ arrangement the Israelis stopped just short of the west bank of the Suez while the Nasser government, predictably, rejected the ultimatum. The Anglo-French forces then launched concerted air attacks on Egyptian liases followed by an invasion of the Suez Canal.24 The CIA role in all this served as a tripwire warning to the U.S. govern­ ment. The agency did not, this time, go along with the British covert action schemes, but stood aside, while its analysts and technical intelligence col­ lectors observed the Anglo-French diplomatic and military maneuvers. O n September 5, almost exacdy two months before the Suez invasion, the CIA

Tbe CIA a n d tbe Face o f D ecolonization

37

Watch Committee issued a report indicating the elements of military buildup, listing num erous details of troop and aircraft deployments, and concluding: “The UK and France appear determined to attain their objectives vis-à-vis the Suez by one means or another; there is little likelihood that they will accept the humiliation of backing down."25 A week later a follow-up Watch Com­ mittee report concluded, “There are strong indications that the UK and France may launch military action against Egypt in the event that their mini­ mum objectives cannot be obtained by non-military means.”26 As the date of the Anglo-French invasion drew near, the CIA's U-2 aircraft were apparently able to photograph the last-minute preparations and give President Eisen­ how er immediate warning of the intervention. On October 28 John Foster Dulles informed Eisenhower that he believed Israel was about to attack Jor­ dan and that the attack would be used by Anglo-French forces to launch their intervention in Egypt. Instead, the next day the Israelis attacked Egypt in the Sinai, with the same result. A declassified published record indicates CIA U-2s photographed Hack pulls of smoke indicating fighting in the Sinai, and another mission on November 1 actually look pictures of the main Egyptian military airbase at Almaza minutes before, and then again ten min­ utes after, Anglo-French strike aircraft wiped out much of the Egyptian air force.27 Eisenhower was amazed with the photography, and sanctioned its continuation, such that he knew of Anglo-French invxsion preparations on November 1, and learned of the actual- invxsion force at sea twenty-four hours ahead of the Suez attack. President Eisenhower was furious at the British and French actions, lie sent John Foster Dulles to the United Nations to prevent passage erf' any Se­ curity Council resolutions in suppoit of the Anglo-French action, and, by threatening a run on the liquidity of the British pound sterling, effectively forced London to back down. Ike did this out of concern that the United States would be associated with colonialism, either British or French. But while Eisenhower's policy actions were successful in attaining his immediate goals, he did not in fact move the United States off a course that effectively sustained colonial enterprises in the name of anti-communism. In the Middle East the most notable item was that the Syrian covert action which the British had favored in early 1956 wxs actually going ahead under CIA auspices. The CIA called this project “Wakeful” (the British knew it as “Straggle”). Agency contract officer Wilbur Eveland found out in Washington in the spring before Suez that Wakeful was being coordinated by a group at the State Department rather than the CIA, which was unusual. Meeting in late May, this “Omega” group gave Eveland two months to gauge the possibili­ ties for a Syrian coup. The timing would have caused the covert operation to come off at just the time of the British intervention at Suez. When Washing­ ton discovered the SIS manipulation, the CIA operation was called off at the Ixst moment.28 Not only dkl Allen Dulles tell his brother the secretary of state

38

Jo h n Prados

that the CIA had misgivings about the British (in an October 30 telephone call), but Syrian security services caught two Druze chieftaias with crates o f guns Iraq had supplied for the operation. But this did not mark the end of the road by any meaas. As Richard Aldrich points out in his intelligence history, “Although Suez, famously, marks the nadir of Anglo-American relations in the 1950s . . . by 1956 British and Amer­ ican objectives in the Middle East were in fact converging.”29 The following year the Syrian project was resurrected as project “Wappen.” Another tele­ phone call between the Dulles brothers on May 7, 1957, documents die ini­ tiative. In Beirut the CIA created a working group bringing its people to­ gether with SIS officers and representatives of the Iraqi, Jordanian, and Lebanese intelligence services. The CIA brought up from Khartoum a politi­ cal action specialist, Howard Stone, who had worked on the Iranian coup o f 1953. Stone and two associates enlisted a number of middle-rank Syrian of­ ficers (none more senior than lieutenant colonel). The plan was for tanks o f the Armor School to seize key points in Damascus, following which other army units would join the plotters and the government would be over­ thrown. It was timed for mid-August. The CIA reportedly spent $3 million on the project. But the Syrian officers were under surveillance. One of them sim­ ply walked into the office of the government’s security director, handed over his U.S. money, and confessed. The officers were arrested on August 12 and government radio exposed the “American plot.” Stone was expelled from Syria.30 In its August 26, 1957, issue, Time magazine dismissed reports of the CIA-sponsorship of the coup as Russian propaganda. The U.S. government nevertheless briefly considered escalating its Syrian operation to a higher level. Typically, a CIA special national intelligence estimate written in prepa­ ration for this action carried the title “Probable Soviet Action in Various Con­ tingencies Affecting Syria.”31 The theater of action then moved to Lebanon and Iraq, both also former League of Nations mandates, respectively of the French and British. What­ ever else Suez had shown, President Eisenhower drew the conclusion that the Middle East had become a major arena of action, and in March 1957 he secured a joint resolution from the U.S. Congress permitting him to intervene with U.S. military forces if need be. Ike’s mandate, soon termed the Eisen­ hower Doctrine, aimed squarely at the pan-Arabist appeal of Nasser. The United States was unable to prevent Syria joining Egypt in a United Arab Re­ public, but Ike hoped to avoid other losses. Lebanon was one. Armed groups of Lebanese fought government forces dominated by Christian political groups. The CIA began tunneling major money into elections there after learning that Egypt and Syria were helping fund anti-Anierican candidates in Lebanon. Canvassing the options with congressional members, Secretary Dulles was asked on June 23,1958, “whether we had any ability through CIA to organize our own indigenous forces which could be used to combat the

The CIA a n d th e Face o f D ecolon iza tio n

39

insurrectionists.” Foster emphasized the problems with these kinds erf oper­ ations, referred to Saudi Arabian failures at similar efforts, and to the previ­ ous American attempts to create “freedom corps” paramilitary units in Eu­ rope, which had been largely unsuccessful.** In Iraq and Jordan the situations of the pre-British governments were semi-stable. On July 14 a military coup in Baghdad succeeded in taking over the government, murdering the prime minister, king, and members of the royal family. The new Iraqi government was generally nationalist and moderate—Iraq had a Free Officers movement much as Egypt had had—but was perceived as leftist by Washington.33 A series of meetings that very day resulted in Elsenhower’s decision to send U.S. Marines into Lebanon, where the pro-American leader had asked for intervention. Tile minutes of the meetings make clear that the perceived enemy was Nasser. For example, Allen Dulles, who had had an early morning telephone conversation with Foster, told the preliminary meeting at the State Department that “Nasser would take over the whole area lof the Middle East!."34 Little more than an hour later President Elsenhower declared before an expanded group at tire White House “it was clear in his mind that we must act, or get out of the Mid­ dle East entirely.”33 Within days U.S. troops were in Lebanon. The CIA was taken by surprise in the Iraqi coup. Allen Dulles had pro­ vided no warning to President Elsenhower. Indeed the president already knew; he had been tokl by Foster. The briefings Dulles gave the meetings that day were after the fact. Tire (TA director referred obliquely to this episode in a speech he gave in December 1958 about the nexus between in­ telligence and policy, in which he refers to the president’s senior advisors by euphemism: “If I don’t report a coup coming in Iraq the Marne Is on me. If I report it and nothing is done the blame is on the policy committee.”36 The 1958 action taken in the Middle East did not differ materially from that of the colonial power, Great Britain, when it dispatched a paratroop brigade to Jor­ dan. Lebanese political cleavages could not be tied to Russian meddling in any way. Intervention in favor of one Ldxme.se faction over another was an act typical of a colonialist policy. Elsenhower’s actions aimed to integrate Lebanon into an American-led world system, one with an anti-communist and democratic orientation. Along with Nasser’s Egypt, of course, Sukarno’s Indonesia had been the prime mover in the growing nonaligned movement, which Washington greatly feared. The Indonesian adventure had antecedents that went back to the Truman administration. This island nation had been a Dutch colony but emerged from Work! War II with a strong nationalist movement that declared independence and, when the Dutch sent forces to reoccupy the country, al­ most immediately began fighting for independence. As the Dutch fought their colonial war, very similar to that of the French in Indochina, the CIA looked on. Several o f ils early intelligence estimates concerned Indonesia

40

Jo h n P nulos

and generally appreciated the realities, taking a line similar to the agency’s overall estimates on the impact of decolonization. The U.S. position overall, in the view of our foremost area experts, George and Audrey Kahin, was clear: “The (Tnuranl administration’s actioas, while discreet and laigely indi­ rect, were in fact heavily beneficial to the Dutch effort for reconquest.”37 The Dutch nevertheless proved uasuccessfu! and tlirew in the towel in Decem­ ber 1949. President Sukarno of Indonesia allied himself politically with the left, but followed a centrist foreign policy, and in fact hasted the first inter­ national conference of the nonaligned movement, at Bandung in 1955. In Indonesia the communist issue remained as real as anywhere else—the Indonesian Communist Party was one of the three strongest in the country and polled very well in 1955 elections. A 1954 CIA national intelligence estimate re­ flected this understanding: “1116 Communists probably believe that their longrange prospects in Indonesia are bright. The Indonesian Communists will probably continue to support the present government or, if it falls, to work for the establishment of another government in which their influence would be strong.”38 This was a relatively relaxed view, and from the standpoint of Indonesian communism very little changed between that moment in 1954 and the time when the Eisenhower administration sent the CIA up against Sukarno.39 Officers within the agency’s DDP were agitating for action, and Kermit Roosevelt approved a political action to influence the 1955 elections. Ih e CIA-backed party, a Muslim progressive group called the Masjumi, the second largest party in the country, did reasonably that September, with an Is­ lamist party third and the communists next. Sukarno created a coalition gov­ ernment between his nationalists and the communists. Washington did not like communist participation in the government and thought less of Sukarno’s nonaligned movement, wliich the Indonesians had begun with an international conference at Bandung in 1955. Here too there was a postcolonial issue: the Dutch continued to control the western part of New Guinea, which Sukarno insisted belonged to Indonesia, and in 1957 the Indonesians nationalized Dutch commercial interests in the country. Suddenly Allen Dulles was report­ ing to the National Security Council (in March 1957) that Indonesia was disin­ tegrating. The Kahins note, “The unreliability of the CIA’s portrayal of the po­ litical situation in Indonesia became starkly evident” in this briefîng for the National Security Council, wliich dutifully ordered a policy review.40 That re­ view culminated in a report given to an NSC meeting in September 1957 which, looking at divisions among Indonesian military forces and differences that existed between the central island, Java, and outer islands such as Suma­ tra and Sulawesi, advocated a covert program to encourage separatists. Tlie Joint Chiefs of Staff weighed in with their support in a November 1957 paper. The upshot became what the CIA called project “Haik.”41 The Indonesian covert operation represented a new kind of challenge for the Central Intelligence Agency. The CIA had worked before with coup plot­

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41

ters and rebel movements that were poorly coordinated, as the Indonesians would prove to he, hut never with rebels who were widely separated in space, indeed in virtually different universes due to their being on different Islands. Nevertheless the agency delivered money and weapons, and in early February 1958 rebel military officers delivered an ultimatum to Sukarno. The fail o f rebel fortunes can he tracked almost weekly in the briefings Allen Dulles delivered to President Elsenhower at sessions of the National Security Council. Initially the CIA director was optimistic but cautious, alleging an In­ donesian propensity for much more talk than action. After the rebel ultima­ tum the CIA director was obliged to note one loss after another, with few successes, until June, when rebel resistance collapsed on one last island.42 Faced with the collapse of rebel groups the United States had supported, President Eisenhower took successively stronger measures to shore them up. Arms shipments and CIA liaison officers were supplemented by more active measures. In late April Ike, Foster, and Allen Dulles met to consider whether to approve American personnel fighting alongside the rebels. Eisenhower ruled out direct CIA participation, but he approved American “soldiers of for­ tune,” specifically to include the CIA proprietary Civil Air Transport (CAT).43 Using airbases in the Philippines and also some rebel installations, CAT pi­ lots then began flying attack missions against Indonesian government forces, an effort which continued until May 18, when CAT pilot Allen Pope was shot dow n and captured by government forces during one o f these flights. Pope turned out to be carrying his identification card as a former U.S. Air Force pi­ lot and other documents linking him to the U.S. government. This revelation o f the American hand effectively brought project Haik to an end. During the last two years of the Eisenhower administration the CIA m ounted additional covert operatioas in fonner colonial areas. In Laos the agency manipulated an election, managed support for right-wing military forces, and initiated a paramilitary effort, which was off the ground before Ike left office.44 It can be disputed whether the Laotian effort represents a postcolonial operation or something more like the nation-building effort which Laasdale managed in South Vietnam. Laos was, however, squarely part of the anti-communist enterprise. But an action in the classic colonial mode would be tire CIA operation in the Congo, which became independent from Belgium in July I960. Belgium refused to withdraw all its forces from this African country, then attempted to split off the richest province of the na­ tion, then called Katanga. The United Natioas passed resolutions requiring a Belgian withdrawal, to be enforced by an international intervention. Wash­ ington, however, could not countenance the Congolese government, led by socialist Patrice Lumumba, and on August 25 the special group that directed CIA covert operations pressed for planning the uigent removal of Lumumba. The Congolese leader was duly overthrown by a coup in September I960, an effort supported by the CIA on a track parallel to another initiative to

42

John Prados

assassinate him. Lumumha briefly resumed power in a new, (effectively) rebel, government, and appealed tor Russian aid, which brought yet m ore U.S. machinatioas. Decisions by Washington’s special group on September 1, October 27, and November 20, I960, pul the United States squarely in the camp of the usurpers, who were also in league with the Belgiaas. Lumumba was arrested and handed over to Congolese who could be counted upon to kill him and did so. This marked the beginning of years of muddy U.S. pol­ icy in Africa that spilled over into the Kennedy and even Johason adminis­ trations.45 The CIA supported forces and supplied attack aircraft, à la Civil Air Transport, to fight “Lumumbist” rebels in a civil war that endured for years. The Eisenhower administration ended with a flourish, a very large-scale covert operation carried out agaiast Fidel Castro in Cuba, approved in March I960, but since that reached its culmination at the Bay of Figs in April 1961, under President John F. Kennedy, we shall not consider that project here. It nevertheless provides additional evidence of Eisenhower’s predilection for covert operatioas. According to an official investigation, between 1953 and 1961 CIA covert operations absorbed an average of 54% of the agency’s an­ nual budget.46 As Central Intelligence Agency analysts had observed soon after the cre­ ation of their organization, the process of decolonization was inevitable. They were also quite correct to note that the raw materials and bases of the newly emerging nations, not to mention the friendship of the former colonial peoples, were vitally important to the United States. But understanding the problem was not the same as conducting a foreign policy founded on that analysis. Dwight D. Eisenhower routinely bungled the policy aspect. Bring­ ing the new nations into an American-led world system was a goal which led the Eisenhower administration into some actioas not very different from those of the colonial powers themselves. Supporting only anti-communist nationalist groups blinded the United States to die appeal and coherence of other groups that had greater support in their countries. Finally, acting along­ side the former colonial powers associated Washington with something very different from its professed Wilsonian vision of self-determination. One obstacle would be the Cold War. The vision of an all-coasuming, all important stnrggle agaiast the Soviet Union, complicated by the illusion that communism was monolithic (so that an action agaiast communists anywhere was a blow at Moscow) provided false incentives for American decision makers. The notion that there were no differences between Russian, Chi­ nese, Vietnamese, and other communisms also hindered the United States— and CIA—in appreciating changes in the enemy camp and even opportuni­ ties to divide it further. For example, the Chinese took a veiy positive view of nonalignment and had close relatioas with the Indonesian Communist Fatty. An embrace of the Indonesian communists in place of a CIA operation to get them out of Sukarno’s government might have built bridges between Washington and Beijing and led to an earlier and sharper Sino-Soviet split.

Ib e CIA a n d tbe Face o f D ecolonization

43

The Cold War overlay not only distorted true U.S. interests; it also made m ore difficult the CIA’s other official task of understanding work! events and trends. Thus the agency’s early appreciation of the inevitability of decolo­ nization was eclipsed by the repeated assertion, as new arenas of foreign policy interest successively arose, that each new perceived problem was driven by issues of communism rather than by local realities. Basic difficulties were further exacerlxited by CIA's cooperation with for­ eign intelligence services. Such international intelligence alliances had been erf great value to the United States during Work! War 11—the Office of Strate­ gic Services had been built virtually entirely by emulating allies, copying their methods, standards, and organization. The foreign relationships con­ tinued to matter into the Cold War period. But the biggest, most valuable, for­ eign intelligence services were those of the eclipsed colonial powers, espe­ cially Great Britain and France. Those services acted for powers that had real colonial and postcolonial interests. It is significant that the vast majority of CIA covert operations during the Truman-Eisenhower period were carried out in concert with allies, particularly the British Secret Intelligence Service. The alliance relationships in these cases skewed basic CIA inclinations even further in directions inimical to U.S. interests. What was the impact on the process of decolonization itself? Indepen­ dence and self-determination for emerging nations may have been in­ evitable, but the covert operations of the 1950s arguably retarded the process. The realization among peoples that CIA secret warriors and others had attempted to manipulate them no doubt also led to negative perceptions of the United States and to disbelief of American protestations of friendship. Again these developments were not helpful to the United States, lire com­ bined impact of these trends during the Eisenhower period was consider­ able, and could have been avoided. American leaders cot: Id not resist turn­ ing against the emerging world the covert operations tools they had forged to m ake war on Russia. Everyone suffered as a result.

NOTES 1. United States Congress (79th Congress, 2nd Session). Joint Committee on the Investigation of the Fear! Harbor Attack, Report: Investigation o f tbe Pearl Harbor Attack. Washington, DC: Governm ent Printing Office, 1946, p. 257-8. 2. The best recent analysis of the creation o f tire CIA during this period is in David F. Rudgers, Creating tbe Secret State: Tbe Origins o f tbe Central Intelligetice Agency, 1943-1947. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2000. 3. John Prados, Presidents’ Secret Wars: CIA a n d Pentagon Covert Operations fro m World War II Through tbe Persian Culf. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee Publishers, 1996, pp. 26-29. 4. National Security Council, NSC-10/2, “National Security Council Directive on Office o f Special Operations," June 18, 1948, in Michael Warner, ed., CIA Cold War

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Records: The CIA Under H arry Trum an. W ashington, DC: Central Intelligence Agency, Center for tlie Study of Intelligence, 1994, p. 214. 5. Nicolas Bediel, Betrayed. New York: Tunes Books, 1984. 6. CIA, “Review of ll»e World Situation," op. cit., p. 14*5-6. 7. CIA, “The Break-up o f the Colonial Empires and Its Implications for US Secu­ rity," ORE 25-48, Septemlier 3, 1948, in Warner, ed., ’I b e CIA Under H arry Trum an, p. 222. 8. IhkL, pp. 225, 234. 9. Nalkmal Security Council, “Collaboration with Friendly G overnm ents on Ex­ change o f Information Concerning Guerrilla OperatkHis," NSC-90 (declassified Janu­ ary 28, 1983). Harry S. Truman Library: Tniman Papers, Presklent’s Secretary’s File, Subject File, box 198, folder: “Progress Reports." 10. Cable, Saigon 1450, Fel>ruary 15, 1954. Departm ent o f State, Foreign Relations o f the United States, 1952-1954, vxiii, pt. I, p. 1048. On die general suliject see Pra­ dos, Presidents’Secret Wars, pp. 115-119. 11. See, for exam ple, W’illiam M. Leary, Perilous Missions: Civil A ir Transport a n d CIA Covert Operations in Asia. University: University o f Alalxima Press, 1984. Tills as­ pect o f tlie CIA in Intkx'hina has lieen extensively covered and will not lie revisited here. 12. Edward G. Laasdale, In the M idst o f Wars: A n Am erican in Southeast Asia. New York: Harper & Row, 1972. Also see Cecil B. Currey, Edtvard Lonsdale: The Un­ quiet Am erican. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1988. 13. Stephen Dorrill, MI-6: Inside the Covert World o f Her M ajesty’s Secret Intelli­ gence Service. New York: Free Press, 2000, quoted p. 579-80. 14. Richard J. Aldrich, The H idden Hand: Britain, Am erica a n d Cold War Secret Intelligence. New York: The Overlook Press, 2001, p. 470. 15. Kermit Rcxisevelt, Countercoup: The Struggle fo r the Control o f Iran. New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1979 is tlie most accessiMe account. A CIA inter­ nal history becam e available in 2000 that indicates the operatkin was m ore difficult than previously underskxxl, Ixit that Is not tlie focus here. The most recent treatm ent, and tlie fftst to make use o f the CIA history, Is in Stephen Kinzer, A ll the Shab’s Men: A n Am erican Coup a n d the Roots o f M iddle East Terror. New York: John Wiley tk Soas, 2003. 16. CIA, “Present Politkal Situation in Guatemala and Possible Developments Dur­ ing 1952,” NIE-62, March 11, 1952 (declassified O ctolier 7, 1981), p. 2. Harry S. Tru­ man Library, President’s Secretary’s File, Intelligence File, box 254, folder: “NIEs 53-62.” Note that die estim ate—which concedes diat the Guatem alan Communist Party has only 500 members—casts that political movement as dom inant in a coun­ try with a stx.iali.st party that had elected die president with hundreds o f thousands of votes. Tlie CIA estim ate claims President Jacobo Arlxmz is “essentially an oppor­ tunist w hose politics are largely a m atter o f historical accident.” This estimate is clearly intended not to enlighten Ihu to underpin a policy recom m endatkin for a covert action. 17. Richard H. Immerman, The CIA in Guatemala: The Foreign Policy o f Inter­ vention. Austin: University o f Texas Press, 1982. Also Stephen Schlesinger and Stephen Kinzer, Bitter Fruit: The Untold Story o f the Am erican Coup in G uatem ala. G arden City, NY: DouHeday, 1982. Most recendy see Piero Gleijeses, Shattered

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Hope: The G uatem alan Revolution a n d tbe U nited States, 1944-1954. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1991. IK. Roliert W. Merry, Taking on tbe World: Joseph a n d Stewart Alsop—G uardians o f tbe Am erican Century. New York: Viking Press, 1996, p. 300. 19. Sandte de Gramont, Tbe Secret War. New York: Dell Books, 1963, quoted p. 24. The interview was puM islied on M ardi 19, 1954, while the Guatemala operatkm w as in full swing. 20. William M Leary, ed., Tbe Central Intelligence Agency: History a n d Docu­ m ents. University: University o f Alalxima Press, 19K4, reprinted p. 143-144. 21. Motiamed Heikal, Secret Channels: Tbe Inside Story o f Amh-lsraeU Peace Ne­ gotiations. New York: HarperCollins, 1996, p. 91. 22. Miles Copeland, Tbe Game o f Nations. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1969, pas­ sim. Willtur C. Eveland, Ropes o f Sand: Am erica's Failure in tbe M iddle East. New York: W.W. Norton, 19H0, passim. 23. Steplten Dorrill, MI-6, pp. 609-651 Ls tlte source for much o f tills material. Also see R idiardJ. Aldrich, Tbe H idden H and, pp. 479-493. 24. For a detailed account of die crisis see Kenneth Kyle, Suez. London: Weidenfield & NicoLson, 1991. 25. CIA, “Conclusions on British-French Intentions to Empkiy Force Agaiast Egypt," W atdi Committee Report no. 31K, Annex, September 5, 1956, in FRUS 19551957, v. 16, Suez Crisis, July 2 6 -December j l , 1956. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1990, p. 379. 26. CIA, Annex to Watch Committee Report no. 319, Septemlier 12, 1956. livid., p. 488. 27. Gregory W. PetUow and Donald E. W elzenliach, Tbe CIA a n d tbe U-2 Pro­ gram , 1954-1974. CIA: Center for die Study of Intelligence, 1998, pp. 116-9. 28. John Prados, Presidents'Secret Wars, p. 128-9. 29. R idiardJ. Aldrich, Tbe H idden H and, p. 481. 30. The liest account o f diese events Ls in Andrew Radimell, Secret War in tbe Mid­ dle East: Tbe Covert Struggle fo r Syria, 1949-1961. London: Taurus Academic Stud­ ies, 1995, pp. 136-140. 31. CIA, “Prolxtble Soviet Action in Various Contingencies Affecting Syria," SNIE 11-9-57, Septem lier 24, 1957 (declassified 1IRP 93-3). 32. Departm ent o f State, “The Siluatkm in Lebanon," M emorandum o f Conversa­ tion, June 23, 1958. FRUS, 1958-1960, v. 11. Washington, DC: Governm ent Printing Office, 1992, p. 174. 33- Marion Farouk-Slugett and Peter Slugett, Iraq Since 1958: From Revolution to Dictatorship. London: I.B. Taunts, 2001, p. 49-50. 34. Departm ent o f State, M emorandum ftir die Record o f a Meeting, July 14,1958, 9:30 AM. FRUS 1958-1960, v. 11, p. 210. 35. Wliite House, Office o f die Staff Secretary, M emorandum o f a O inference with the President, July 14, 1958, 10:50 AM. Ibid., p. 213. 36. William Natlian, “Allen Dulles: America’s Global Sheriock,” True M agazine, Septem lier 1959, quoted p. 22. 37. G eorge McTuman Kahin and Audrey Kahin, Subversion as Foreign Policy: Tbe Secret Eisenhower a n d Dulles Debacle in Indonesia. New York: Tlie New Press, 1995, p. 29.

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38. CIA, “Communist Courses o f Action in Asia Through Mid-1955,” NIE 10-2-54, March 15, 1954 (declassified HRP 93-3), p. 7. 39. See Arnold C. Urackman, Indonesian Com munism : A History. New York: Fred­ erick A. Praeger PuNisIter, 1963. 40. George and Audrey Kahin, Subversion as Foreign Policy, p. 86. 41. John Prados, Presidents' Secret Wars, pp. 130-146. Also see Kenneth Conlxiy and Jam es Morrison, Feet to the Fire: CIA Covert O perations In Indonesia, 1957-1958. Annapolis, Ml): Naval Institute Press, 1999, passim. 42. See die various NSC meeting briefing notes in Foreign Relations o f tbe United States, 1958-1960, v.17, Indonesia. W ashington, DC: Governm ent Printing Office, 1994, pp. 11-229. 43. Departm ent o f State, M emorandum o f Conversation with President Eisen­ hower, Ibid., p. 110-1. 44. John Prados, Tbe H idden History o f tbe Vietnam War. Chicagtv. Ivan R. Dee Publisher, 1995, pp. 221-228. 45. See Steplien R. Weissman, Am erican Foreign Policy in tbe Congo, 1960-1964. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1974. Also Weissman, “O pening the Secret Files on Lumumba’s Murder,” W ashington Post, July 21, 2002, p. B3. On die CIA assassi­ nation pkits see M edeleine G. Kalb, The Congo Cables: Tbe Cold War in Africa fro m Eisenhower to Kennedy. New York: Macmillan, 1982. For an official investigation o f die assassination plots see United States Senate (94th Congress, 1st Session), Select Committee to Study Governmental O perations with Respect to Intelligence Activities (Church Committee), Interim Report: Alleged Assassination Plots Involving Foreign Leaders. W ashington, DC: Governm ent Printing Office, 1975, pp. 13-67. Collusion betw een die Belgiaas and the CIA has lieen effectively dem oastrated by Dutch sdiolar Ludo De Witte in his Tbe Assassination o f Lum um ba (traas. Anne Wright and Renee Fenby). New York: Verso Press, 2001. The De Witte Ixxik led to tw o official Belgian inquiries, one by die Belgian Parliament, the other by the governm ent, both o f which concluded the chaiges it contains are correct. The Belgian governm ent lias sulisequently issued an official apology for its participatkm in the Lumumba m urder. 46. This is a Church G m im iltee report by analyst Anne Karatekas, “History o f the Central Intelligence Agency,” reprinted in Leary, Tbe Central Intelligence Agency, p. 57.

3 “The Most Important Single Aspect o f Our Foreign Policy”?: The Eisenhower Administration, Foreign Aid, and the Third World M ichael R. Aclantson

On 50 March 1954, President Elsenhower addressed Congress on foreign eco­ nomic policy. U was time, the president declared, to remove “man-made har­ riers to mutual trade and the How of hinds among as.” Increased international economic activity would result in an outflow of dollars to Europe, facilitating the return to convertibility among the major currencies, balancing federal budgets, and keeping inflation low, all of which would maintain the strength of the dollar—die currency supporting the international payments system. In short, Eisenhower called for a restoration of the lilieral international political economy (1PE) of free flows of goods and capital that existed prior to World War I, since the emeigencies dial had jastifled state intervention in global markets had ended.1 Accordingly, Eisenhower announced that a “return to normality in the global economy was possible.” As such, there was no longer any justification for grants of U.S. financial assistance for economic develop­ ment purposes. Foreign aid was “emergency aid,” closely linked to national security policy, which the Truman administration, and now ils successor, de­ fined wholly within the context of the East-West Cokl War confrontation. Such aid was not meant to substitute for private investment under “normal” circumstances. The implications for emerging nations seeking capital for their economic development were ominous: only governments that Washington perceived to be under direct threat from communism or deemed to lie allies in the effort to contain it would be eligible for grants of U.S. financial assis­ tance. Others had to depend on private investment or loans from the World Bank or the Export-Import Bank (Exim) for development capital.2 Trade, not aid, was the order of the day for the Third World. 47

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Historians have aigued that the Elsenhower White House failed to appreci­ ate the process of economic development in the Third World and was insen­ sitive to local cultures, nationalism, and other factors in its thinking about for­ eign aid. They have also pointed out that most of the economies of the governments that Washington did assist were no better off in material tenus in 1961 than in 1953 and generally were no more stable or democratic. Setting aside the failings of the administration’s foreign aid program, this essay focuses on the thinking of its architects, who aimed to use aid first and foremost to ad­ dress perceived threats to U.S. national security in specific countries or regions and only secondarily to modernize Third World economies.3 The literature on die foreign economic policy of Elsenhower’s administration describes an evo­ lution in policy, from one that relied solely on trade to meet objectives to one that added aid to die equation that defined economic relationships between Washington and the so-called less developed countries. In this interpretation, “trade, not aid” became “trade and aid” when a trade-alone approach did not yield desired rates of economic development, which, Eisenhower and other top officials became convinced, constituted a threat to national security. Yet trade, investment, and convertibility were all of a piece, namely the restoration of a liberal IPE, and remained so throughout Eisenhower’s eight years in office. They represented a layer of overarching objectives that shaped foreign aid policymaking. Thus the extension of economic foreign aid during Eisenhow'er’s second term through the Development Loan Fund (DLF) and other means did not mark either a redirec tion in Washington’s approach to globalizing capitalism or a “policy breakthrough,” as Walt W. Rostow—the foremost aid advocate at the time—called it. Aid levels re­ mained low relative to the assessments of social scientists and postcolonial elites on development needs, as U.S. officials believed that economic aid should serve only as a catalyst for private initiative. Indeed, from 1953-60 U.S. economic aid fell 23 percent in real terms. However ineffective the ad­ ministration’s efforts to revive the global flow of capital may have been, for­ eign aid remained, as Secretary of State John Foster Dulles noted, “far and away the most important single aspect” of a foreign policy aimed at coun­ tering threats from Moscow.4

FOREIGN AID VS. FOREIGN TRADE

The Eisenhower White House agreed with its Democratic predecessor that the national security threat posed by Moscow-directed communism justified the provision of aid to contain it. With the end of open hostilities on the Ko­ rean peninsula, however, Elsenhower and his advisors determined that con­ ditions permitted a return to normality in the glolxil economy. They meant to privilege market activity over state action, allieit within an institutional

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49

framework, established at the Bretton Woods Conference in 1944, which conceded to governments significant space to control capital flows.5 The ad­ ministration would rely as much as possible on “private initiative, vigorous competition, and the free market” to achieve “steadily rising standardlsl of living” at home and abroad, which in their view constituted the foundation of American security and prosperity.6 Within the context of liberalizing the IPE, the Eisenhower administration initially contemplated no role for U.S. grants-in-aid or so-called soli loans (that is, funds lent at helow-market rates of interest) in funding economic de­ velopment. Aid such as the reconstruction assistance that Washington pro­ vided under the Marshall Plan was “extraordinary or emergency aid” and “not a normal medium of commerce among nations,” as Truman’s State De­ partment had observed. It was time, Eisenhower remarked, to “distinguish betw een an emergency and a chronic malady” that could be handled through private means. The Eisenhower administration sanctioned the pro­ vision of military aid to allied governments on the front line of the Cold War under the Mutual Security Program (MSP) initiated by the Truman adminis­ tration, but was loathe to provide any aid that might displace domestic sav­ ings or the supply of “normal funds for the financing of civilian investment in a free economy,” as Clarence Randall, the chairman of Inland Steel and head of the Eisenhower-appointed commission to study U.S. foreign eco­ nomic policy, put it. Indeed, according to George Humphrey, the former head of Hanna Mining Company who served as Eisenhower's first treasury secretary, “foreign aid obstructed the release of market forces around tire w orld,” thus undermining the primary objective of the administration’s for­ eign economic strategy. It did so because it strengthened the recipient gov­ ernm ents, which in many cases were undemocratic, and supponed state economic power at the expense of private initiative and enterprise. Olten aid was “prem ature,” according to Humphrey, in that it preceded the creation of the legal and regulatory framework for development. Long-term develop­ ment lending might continue under the auspices of Exim and the World Bank, which conducted their operations on a sound “business” basis and over whose affairs the executive branch exerted substantial influence. U.S. funding for overseas economic development “other than that devoted to the immediate considerations of security” was to end.7 Throughout ils tenure, the Elsenhower administration remained reluctant to expand the apparatus devoted to U.S. foreign aid. When Eisenhower took over the reins of power in Washington, U.S. financial assistance to the de­ veloping world had coalesced institutionally around the lending activities of the World Bank and Exim. During Elsenhower’s first term, White House and other top officials remained satisfied that their lending sufficed in meeting the dem and for development capital and that the administration should limit its grant programs to military assistance.

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H ie World Bank was a favored source of development Hinds among ad­ ministration officials, especially Treasury Secretary Humphrey, because it conditioned its lending on the adoption of “sound” fiscal, monetary, and economic policies and the resolution of outstanding defaults on private debts on the part of sovereign borrowers. As such, from the administration’s point of view, it played a key role in lilieralizing the IFE. Since its establish­ ment in 1945, the World Bank had aligned its operatioas much more closely to Wall Street’s conception of an international financial iastitution than to that of its New Deal architects in Roosevelt’s Treasury Department. By 1953, the World Bank had become a conservative iastitution, conditioning its lending on the development of approved infrastructure projects, the settlement of outstanding private debts in default, and the adoption of “policies and atti­ tudes conducive to sound economic growth,” as Eugene Black, the World Bank’s third president, observed in a 1956 address to his hoard of governors. Further, as recent scholarship lias shown, the World Bank became the “hand­ maiden of Wall Street,” as Tyler Priest puts it, promoting increased private capital flows to developing economies. In fact, bankers’ concerns that World Bank operatioas would displace private funding prompted Congress to cre­ ate a National Advisory Council on International Monetary and Financial Problems (NAC) with supervisory responsibility over all U.S. government agencies involved in foreign aid. Though chaired by the treasury secretary, the NAC also included die secretaries of state and commerce, and the chair­ men of the board of governors of both the Federal Reserve System and Exini, thereby diluting the influence of the Treasury Department, which for the mo­ ment remained in the hands of New Dealers, most prominently Secretary Henry Morgenthau and Harry Dexter White. For his part, President Truman replaced Secretary Morgenthau and his staff, returning control of the depart­ ment to conservatives who endorsed the free trade and investment policies traditionally championed by the State Department. Neither Fred Vinson nor John Snyder, Truman’s treasury secretaries, was interested in pursuing White’s vision of a “New Deal abroad,” preferring that foreign investment be undertaken through private capital insofar as it was possible.8 Since the late 1930s, die State Department had regarded Exim as Wash­ ington’s primary instrument of development lending on behalf of foreign policy. With its support, Exim survived a Treasury Department effort to end this type of lending early in Elsenhower’s first term. Subsequently Secretary of State Dulles championed the role of the bank in lilieralizing the global economy, urging its directors to make loans that promoted private enterprise abroad and contributed to the rebuilding of international capital markets by including commercial banks in its lending. The State Department also advocated Exini guarantees of private loans and direct investments to assist so-called neutral governments that might play a key role in opposing the communist advance.*

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51

The administration reinforced the historically close link between foreign aid and national security interests, associated during the 1930s with German and Japanese “aggression" and, since the end of World War II, with the threat of communism. Using aid to promote the development of recipients’ econom ies remained a secondary goal. As one deputy assistant secretary of state explained, U.S. aid programs aimed “to curb the power and prevent the expansion of international Communism.” For his part, the president ex­ pected that foreign aid would at least maintain the political status quo on the front line of the Cokl War. Elsenhower was ambivalent on the economic impact of akl, but hoped that it might serve as a catalyst for growth. More im­ portantly, aid signaled America’s commitment to its allies—it bound together alliances that sought to contain communist aggression. Randall summed up the position of the Eisenhower administration rather indelicately when he stated that the primary objective of foreign aid was not “milk for every Hot­ tentot” but the military security of America and its allies in the “free world.”10 To be sure, during Elsenhower’s second term, the administration seemed to reverse course when it sanctioned akl programs designed to promote de­ velopment in Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and Latin America. However, American officials dkl so only because they revised their calculus of the com­ munist threat to include the economic sphere. In so doing, the administra­ tion associated the provision of economic akl with the achievement of na­ tional security goals. The administration recognized that foreign economic development on Washington’s terms benefited American interests. Whether developed or de­ veloping, overseas economies provided sources of raw materials and op­ portunities for trade and investment, which ultimately increased the material welfare of the American people. Development also improved the capacity of allied governments to support their armed forces, extending Washington's geopolitical power. Administration officials recognized a substantial and growing demand for American capital and that Washington should provide m ote of it through new bilateral and multilateral programs. Finally, they understood that the people of Africa, Asia, and Latin America wanted to raise their economic standards of living. Yet they rejected the idea that government-to-government capital flows should meet the demand for funds. Rather, private capital, whether supplied internally or externally, should fund development. To encourage American investment abroad, the adminis­ tration urged Congress to adopt changes in the tax code and contemplated a num ber of measures to underwrite currency exchange and expropriation risk. Ultimately, the administration held, “primary responsibility for satisfac­ tory growth must remain with the less developed nations themselves.” Offi­ cials were confident that if foreign governments “baseldl their economies on a system of private enterprise, and . . . createld) a political and economic cli­ mate conducive to private investment, of both domestic and foreign capital,”

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as National Security Council Report (NSC) 5613/1 put it, they would achieve the economic growth rates they sought. Thus it remained policy to encour­ age governments to adopt “sound” fiscal and monetary policies, character­ ized by balanced budgets and low inflation, allow the repatriation of profits, recognize contracts and property rights, and not discriminate against Ameri­ can investments. Further, when the administration began to provide eco­ nomic aid in support of national security objectives during Elsenhower's second term, it sought to condition its provision on the adoption of marketbased reforms on the part of the recipient government. As NSC 5810/1 stated, “U.S. assistance should be extended in a way to promote local selfhelp, incentives, and initiative in mobilizing local resources and developing sound programs.”11 The administration subordinated foreign aid beneath its support for the in­ ternational financial and economic system established at Bretton Woods and the iastitutioas created to implement it. Indeed, its fiscal and monetary poli­ cies suggest that it subordinated domestic economic policy to international economic coasideratioas as well. The two were linked. Given die hege­ monic position of America and the dollar within the Bretton Woods system, it was im perative to maintain both a strong dollar and an outward flow o f dollars through trade and invesunent. Domestically, this meant balancing budgets and keeping inflation low. From the fiscal year 1954 budget, which cut almost $10 billion from President Truman's proposal, through fiscal year I960, Eisenhower cut expenditures rather than tolerate deficits that might fuel inflation. Once the major European currencies became convertible in 1958, Washington faced a growing balance-of-payments deficit and outflows of gold. A postwar global shortage of dollars had become a glut that showed no signs of abating. As central banks converted dollars that began to accu­ mulate in their vaults, as they were permitted to do under the Bretton Woods system, the administration took steps to increase exports of goods and ser­ vices and limit outflows of capital. Budgetary and payments concerns, cou­ pled with an overriding belief in free trade and investment, meant that aid re­ quests fell far short of the capital that developing countries required for the construction of b asic social and economic infrastmclure. Such was the view from prominent observers, including Rostow and his colleague Max F. Mil­ likan, John F. Kennedy and Director Harold Stassen of the Foreign Opera­ tions Administration (a predecessor of the U.S. Agency for International Development—USAID), Time vice president C. D. Jackson, and Milton Eisenhower, the president’s brother.12 A number of factors suggest that the Eisenhower administration’s goal of restoring a liberal IPE was premature: one, a recalcitrant Congress, which re­ verted to the negative position on aid that it held during the interwar period; two, a lack of international capital mobility that Kathleen R. McNamara has highlighted as a critical and overlooked factor in the operation of the global

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53

economy of the early Cold War period; three, the preference for state capi­ talism or socialism as development strategies by postcolonial and neocolo­ nial (in the case of Latin America) elites and the administration's failure to convince them that market reforms would benefit their economies; and four, the contradictions inherent in pursuing classically liberal foreign economic policy goals while conforming to the post-New Deal liberal consensus on doipestic economic policy. But the administration continued to reject the -idea that large-scale U.S. aid programs should displace private capital in meeting the foreign development needs and never considered an aid pro­ gram for development on a level comparable to the Marshall Flan for recon­ struction. As John B. Hollister, the director of the International Cooperation Administration, another USAID predecessor, explained, “Marshall Flan aid would simply not work in the underdeveloped areas of the world as it had worked in highly industrialized Western Europe.” In pan, the lack of enthusiasm for Marshall Flan-levels of aid for the Third World owed to budg­ etary considerations, once national defense and military aid spending w ere taken into consideration. Mostly it owed to officials' beliefs, based on their interpretation of the American experience, that private enterprise and international trade and investment constituted the primary engines of developm ent.13 With the heating up of the Cokl War, the State Department endorsed Exim development lending in support of U.S. interests in areas of “particular po­ litical significance.” The State Department privileged Exim over the more in­ stitutionally independent World Bank, because its officials could influence its activities directly. (Although U.S. officials could depend upon like-minded World Bank officers to serve the interests of U.S. foreign policy broadly, Washington could only veto loan applications that it opposed.) The State De­ partment’s unwillingness to defer to the World Bank on all development lending also reflected the expansion of Washington’s geopolitical interests as the Cold War shifted to Asia and policymakers’ initial, if ill-defined, linking of socioeconomic conditions in postcolonial states and their susceptibility to communist subversion.14 Exim thus emerged as the most likely candidate to achieve national security goals, spurring a new cycle of Exim lending to the developing world. This increased spending closed some of the gap between the amount of capital that foreign governments had been seeking from American sources since the end of the war and what private investors and the World Bank had supplied. In the context of the Korean Wir, Exim received a $1 billion increase in its lending limit. With the State Department’s encouragement and the NAC’s bless­ ing, Exim superseded the World Bunk in funding projects that supported the development of strategic minerals—a goal that President Truman associated with his Point Four program, which he announced in his inaugural address in January 1949- State Department planners defended the development lending

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function of the hank against attacks from Treasury, Federal Reserve, and World Bank officials, who charged Exini with undercutting the World Bank's position as development lender of the first resort. Elsenhower’s Treasury Department re­ newed the World Bank-Exim contest for institutional turf, hut ultimately, the White House and die NAC, responding to tire wislies of Congress and business interests, determined that the hanks’ activities complemented one another. Not just institutionally: each institution functioned in its own way “to create situa­ tions of political, economic, and military strength in tire free world” that Irolstered America’s hegemonic position therein, and therefore constituted equally important components of Eisenhower’s foreign aid policy.15 Tire trilateral assistance that flowed from Washington to the developing world became militarized with tire fall of China and tire outbreak of war on the Korean peninsula. Indeed, when foreign aid planners Iregan to contemplate the provision of economic assistance grants to “underdeveloped countries,” they justified the “magnitude and tempo [of akl programs] primarily on politi­ cal considerations” and focused their attention on Asia, Africa, and the Middle East.16Hence, the governments in “tire general area of China” received billions of dollars for the purposes of containing communism while Latin Arrerican leaders’ calls for a Marshall Flan for their region, which Washington deter­ mined not to be under direct threat from attack, went unheeded. This pattern of aid disbursement reinforced tire idea that Washington reserved its financial assistance for emergency purposes associated with national security. With the “loss of China” and the Korean War, U.S. foreign aid policymakers shifted their attention from Europe to Asia: the front line of the Cold War. The immediate threat of military aggression gave the upper hand to plaimers who favored military over economic grants-in-aid. The Military Defease Assistance Act of 1949 authorized $1.3 billion in aid to thirteen states, including Iran, the Philippines, and South Korea. Reflecting Washington’s new calculus of the communist threat, expressed in alarming tenus by NSC-68, massive military grants-in-aid to threatened states on the economic periphery continued under the MSP. Economic grants-in-aid paled in comparison. Under the 1950 Foreign Assistance Act, tlie governments in the “general area” of China received only $75 million in economic assistance—the Nationalist regime having collapsed in October 1949. Still, the program’s beneficiaries—Burma, Indonesia, Indochina, Taiwan, and Thailand—received almost $50 million more in binding than the Point Four program of technical assistance under die A d for International Development Act, which Congress passed on die same day. Notwithstanding bureaucratic disagreements over the type of grants that Washington should ex­ tend, policymakers agreed that governments deemed critical to U.S. national se­ curity interests would receive this type of U.S. financial assistance.17 By contrast, Washington expected regions where communism posed no political or military threat to America to rehabilitate economic relations with U.S. investors and manufacturers. A'ter 1945 Latin American elites sought

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giants and low-interest loans from Washington to help their economies in­ dustrialize and achieve independence from foreign capital. That is, they sought to restructure their economies away from commodity production and mineral extraction that exposed them to external corporate decision making and global financial shocks. The Roosevelt administration had made wartime promises of postwar economic assistance. Now the Tniman administration determ ined that communism posed no comparable threat to the region and rebuffed regional requests for U.S. financial assistance. Based on State De­ partment assessments, it concluded that the region’s economic problems ow ed to low rates of private investment—the result of illiberal trade and in­ vestment policies and inappropriate fiscal and monetary actions. In lieu of economic foreign aid, Washington offered technical cooperation and Exim loans, and advised regional leaders to help themselves by opening their mar­ kets to trade, reaching satisfactory settlements of sovereign debts in default, and rescinding laws that discriminated against the repatriation of profits and foreign ownership of enterprise.10 The Eisenhower administration reaffirmed both Washington's strategic in­ terest in aiding the front-line states of the Cold War in the “general area” of China—expanded to include the Middle East—and its expectation that Latin America would rely on “self-help” and private capital to meet its development needs. Indeed, six countries—Iran, Pakistan, Taiwan, Turkey, South Korea, and Vietnam—were receiving more than half of the U.S. military and eco­ nomic assistance as of fiscal 1955, and continued to receive some $2 billion in mostly military and so-called defease support aid annually over the next five years. Overall, the administration directed some $50 billion in assistance to states that it deemed to be under direct communist threat. Officials were con­ vinced that the MSP was containing communism, even though they conceded the difficulty of measuring its impact. At the same time, as one State Depart­ ment official put it, “it is fielt that tire Latin American countries can be set aside” in the administration’s early aid calculations. The geographical pattern of akl disbursement continued to reflect the dose link between Washington’s na­ tional security concerns and its extension of financial assistance.19 During Eisenhower’s second term, policymakers modified their stance on economic development assistance after Moscow shifted the Cold War conflict to the eco­ nomic realm and expanded it geographically. In particular, they determined that it was appropriate to create new akl programs for Latin America.

FOREIGN AID AND THE SOVIET ECONOMIC OFFENSIVE IN THE THIRD WORLD

After the death of Joseph Stalin on 5 March 1953, the new leadership in the Kremlin launched a strategy of expanding Moscow’s influence among

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developing nations, which the Communist Party had outlined in O ctober 1952 at its Nineteenth Congress. Through technical assistance, trade, and th e exteasion of financial credit, Moscow aimed to build momentum for social­ ism in Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and Latin America. Beginning in 1954 Moscow offered generous development assistance: $1.9 billion over the next four years, exceeding the $1.4 billion that it had extended from 1945-53. Moscow also contributed to the technical assistance program of the United Nations and backed SUNFED, that body’s proposed multilateral develop­ ment fund. Russian credits amounted to only 25 percent of U.S. economic aid for the period, if Exim loaas and agricultural subsidies are included in the American total, yet exceeded U.S. economic assistance in nine countries o f strategic importance to Washington. Moreover, Moscow seemed to offer credits without strings attached and on more generous terms than Exim.20 Moscow’s “economic offensive" altered Washington’s calculus on eco­ nomic foreign aid because it established a close connection between devel­ opm ent and specific national security interests. The national security threat from communism was no longer solely, or necessarily, a military one. Rather, communism would spread by meaas of political subversion facilitated by fi­ nancial enticements that appealed “to the hopelessness of the present eco­ nomic situation of the masses,” as one State Deparunent analysis phrased it.21 Thus the “economic offeasive” posed as serious a challenge to “the free world” as the Red Army. Postcolonial elites wanted to lift their societies out of poverty. For them the Soviet experience demoastrated that socialism pro­ vided the most efficient meaas of attaining this goal. As David Engerman has noted, political leaders such as India’s Jawaharlal Nehru “sought rapid in­ dustrialization through central planning as the fast track for reaching eco­ nomic independence.”22 Eisenhower, Dulles, and other officials appreciated the extent to which the Soviet Union’s industrialization, compressed within a generation, impressed postcolonial elites.25 Yet they framed die problem o f development in political terms—-emphasizing capitalism as a development strategy. They concluded that new economic grant programs, modest in scale, would align (or realign) political allegiances and raise the interest o f private investors. Moscow’s economic initiatives concentrated minds within the administra­ tion. Yet only after considerable delay—well into Elsenhower’s second term in fact—did top American officials conclude that expanding the U.S. foreign aid program to include economic grants-in-aid and “soft” loans was an ap­ propriate policy response. This delay can be attributed to three factors: first, the White House remained convinced that Moscow was interested in politi­ cal subversion, not economic development; second, U.S. officials endorsed an expansion in Washington’s institutional aid apparatus only after (hey re­ luctantly conceded the failure of market-oriented initiatives to address Moscow’s challenge; and third, the exposure of contradictions in program

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Implementation reinforced policymakers’ ambivalence on aid as a catalyst for economic development. Within this context, the overseas demand lor de­ velopment capital figured little in the making of policy. Viewing foreign relations among states through the prism of the Cold War, which framed all of the administration's thinking on foreign aid, top officials believed that Moscow’s foreign aid program did not pose a "genuine chal­ lenge” economically, as Eisenhower remarked, but “political penetration in disguise,” as CIA Director Allen Dulles put it. They doubted that it would produce the development that recipients expected, but worried that Moscow’s underwriting of high-profile projects, such as the Aswan High Dam or the Bhilai Steel Plant in India’s Madhya Pradesh state, would estab­ lish dependent economic relatioaships. Once Moscow established “eco­ nomic control,” a shift in the recipient government’s geopolitical orientation would likely follow. Given this analysis, the administration refused to outspend Moscow. Rather, it initially explored ways of increasing tire effective­ ness of the existing program.24 Administration officials agreed with the analysis of the State Department that only steady improvement in peoples’ material lives “and creation of a sense of hope for the future” would meet Moscow’s economic challenge adequately. From Eisenhower and Secretary of State Dulles to the heads of Washington’s foreign aid agencies, officials insisted that private invest­ ment, supported by Exim and Work! Bank lending, held the key to devel­ opm ent that would prevent communist incursion. As Dulles asserted, if governm ents fostered “a climate which is attractive to foreign capital . . . the danger of communism . . . will gradually disappear.” However, as the president observed, Moscow’s “economic offensive” made mobilizing pri­ vate capital an urgent affair. The administration pondered ways of increas­ ing private capital flows even as its preaching about “self-help” failed to persuade elites to abandon state-directed development strategies. More­ over, it continued to emphasize private investment and the reform of po­ litical economy even after it sanctioned a moderate expansion in the scope of U.S. foreign aid policy.25 The difficulties that U.S. akl agencies were experiencing in both imple­ menting and measuring the results of the MSP left policymakers unenthusiastic about designing new programs to counter Moscow’s aid efforts. As the officials who were responsible for either overseeing the U.S. aid effort or studying its effects reported, U.S. foreign assistance involved resource traasfers from the U.S. Treasury into another government’s coffers. Aid was fun­ gible. The recipient government could generally use it as U saw fit. whether Washington labeled it military, defease support, or economic aid. U.S. offi­ cials found it difficult to administer—much less control—aid programs, prompting one frustrated deputy secretary of state to lament, “We are spend­ ing billions of dollars and muffing a great opportunity.” Aid relationships

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provided Washington with little leverage to induce the recipient government to adopt “sound" financial and economic policies. Financial assistance ex­ tended under the MSP also created dependent relationships. Washington expected recipients to support its containment strategy by, for instance, sup­ plying bases tor U.S. military forces. In return, recipient governments ex­ ploited any opportunity to leverage Cold War tensions to cdMain the capital they sought. Thus, aid officials conceded, it was difficult to pare programs without potentially destabilizing allies. Programs “tendledl to liecome in­ creasingly inflexible," as recipients often used aid to build up military estab­ lishments, creating chronic economic problems, including inflation. In sum, the administration began to appreciate that the success or failure of its aid program often depended to a greater extent on the actions of recipient gov­ ernments than the intentions of the donor.** Accounts of the administration’s policy response to the Soviet economic offensive tend to focus on tire primacy of domestic influences on Eisen­ hower and Ills advisors. Policy entrepreneurship of economics experts and other proponents on behalf of hold, new aid proposals and the departure of key akl “reslsters,” namely Humphrey, Under Secretary of State Herbert Hoover, Jr., and Joseph Dodge, chairman of the president’s Council on For­ eign Economic Policy, explain the administration’s embrace of development assistance and its shift from a policy of “trade, not aid" to one of “trade and aid.” In this reading, Eisenhower’s second inaugural address and his 21 May 1957 speech to the American people on “the need for mutual security in waging the peace” ushered in a fundamental redirection of policy, demon­ strating the influence of economic experts and well-placed aid advocates. In these speeches, the president linked the hopelessness of desperate and im­ poverished people to Moscow-directed political radicalism and called on Congress to approve his proposed DLF, which would make available capital on easier terms than Exim and World Bank loaas. Elsenhower thus signaled his administration’s move beyond direct security concerns in its aid policy to include poverty as a source of opportunity for communist gain, in accor­ dance with the analysis of Rostow and Millikan, the most prominent policy entrepreneurs. With the support of aid advocates within the administration, including Robert Anderson, Humphrey’s replacement as treasury secretary, Under Secretary of State Christian Heiter, and Deputy Under Secretary of State C. Douglas Dillon, the administration supported additional develop­ ment lending facilities, including a regional bank for Latin America and a “soft” loan window of the World Bank. This expansion in the scope of U.S. foreign aid policy set the stage for a significant increase in the scale of aid programs during the Kennedy administration.27 I'o be sure, policy entrepreneurship on the part of aid advocates helped to persuade the White House to recommend, and Congress to approve, new programs. The timing and substance of changes in Washington’s policy of

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economic aid, however, suggest that the role of external events in motivat­ ing the administration to expand the scope of U.S. foreign aid policy deserve primary consideration. Washington’s responses to three external “shocks” il­ lustrate this point. First, on 6 November 1957, Soviet Communist Party First Secretary Nikita Khmshchev called for peaceful coexistence and competition between socialist and capitalist states in a speech before the Supreme Soviet. Then in May 1958 Latin American leaders and peoples expressed their frus­ trations with Washington’s foreign economic policy verbally and physically during Vice President Richard Nixon’s tour of the region. Finally, Fidel Cas­ tro’s Cuban revolution of 1959-60 marked the extension of the Cokl War to Latin America. The first “shock” served as a wake-up call, persuading the ad­ ministration to pay more attention to the economic skie of the aid equation in its policymaking. The second and third “shocks” established a strong link between economic “backwardness” and political radicalism, moving the ad­ ministration to devote more resources to econom k aid programs. Together they demonstrate the close link to national security concerns that has been a coaslstent feature of U.S. foreign aid policy. Prior to Khrushchev’s speech, U.S. national security polky discounted the need to meet Moscow’s initiatives with comparable offers of financial assis­ tance, even as the administration asked Congress to finance the Develop­ ment Loan Fund (DLF). NSC 5707/8, approved 3 June 1957, emphasized the role of private investment and the adoption of “sound” public policy in ac­ celerating growth in “the less developed areas” while “recognizing that it is not U.S. policy to endeavor in each instance to match Soviet offers.” Moreover, in declaring that Washington should use nonmonetary means to counter the latter’s “apparent attractiveness,” NSC 5707/8 reflected the belief among top officials that Moscow was not genuinely interested in the devel­ opment of “the less developed areas.” Regional policy statements mirrored this basic national security position. NSC 5613/1 reaffirmed that Latin Amer­ ica should rely on “private initiative” for their development needs, since there was “no danger of overt Communist attack” in the region. Washington would promote development as it had throughout the postwar period. Re­ garding largely “neutralist” South Asia, NSC 5701 declared that Washington would not “bid against or attempt to match in size and scope the credit and akl activities of the Communist bloc.” Since “the capability of the United States to shape events” in the region was “severely limited,” NSC 5701 in­ structed officials responsible for the implementation of policy to “foster con­ ditions and government policies” that would increase the “participation by private enterprise in economic development,” encourage external private in­ terests to invest in the region, and educate local elites on the contribution that “private enterprise can make to economic growth.” NSC 5612/1 offered a similar prescription for Southeast Asia. Given a lack of official interest in mobilizing publte resources to address Moscow’s aid efforts, it Is not

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surprising that Congress appropriated only $300 million of the $500 million that Eisenhower requested for the DLF for fiscal 1958 and refused his request to authorize tlie program at $750 million for each of the next two years.2* Khrushchev’s speech spurred a flurry of discussion within die administra­ tion. A consensus emerged on the need for a more vigorous approach to promoting economic growth and development “in the less developed areas.” It called for greater lending on the part of Exim and the World Bank, even if it meant relaxing lending criteria. It also called lor increasing the DLF and fi­ nancing it on a multiyear basis. Yet Khrushchev’s “wake-up call” did not justify allowing recipients to deploy U.S. economic assistance as they saw fit. The successful implementation of foreign aid policy depended on the productive deployment of public capital. Policymakers intended to “induce countries which seek or receive our aid to follow sound policies, which would enable them to use that aid effectively.” In other words, unlike Moscow’s largesse, Washington’s aid came with strings attached. Recipients were not to use it to hind stale-directed enterprise. Rather, they should “cre­ ate a favorable climate” for private investment—lack of which made the pro­ vision of foreign aid necessary in the first place. Remarkably, respoasibility for achieving the material improvement necessary to prevent communist economic incursion “remainledl with the less developed nations them­ selves.” As such, “U.S. assistance should be extended in a way to promote local self-help, incentives, and initiative in mobilizing local resources and de­ veloping sound programs.” That is, recipients still could not rely on Wash­ ington as a primary source of capital. Khrushchev’s challenge to the West put a premium on achieving short-term results that demonstrated the superiority of capitalism as an engine of development. But countering Moscow’s pro­ gram could not simply be a matter of supplying public capital on the scale that Rostow and Millikan recommended.2'2 Economic aid would compensate for the lack of private investment in the past by serving as a catalyst for fu­ ture private capital Hows. Ultimately official policy maintained the primacy of markets in the development equation.30 Until Nixon traveled to Latin America in the spring of 1958, the adminis­ tration saw no reason to alter its policy on development for the region, which it inherited from the Truman administration. Since its engineering of the overthrow of the democratically elected government of Jacabo Arbenz Guzman in Guatemala, top officials perceived the region to lx? secure from both overt communist aggression and Moscow’s “economic offensive” and therefore refused to underwrite the state-driven development programs fa­ vored by the region’s elites. Indeed, on the eve of Nixon’s departure, the White House reaffirmed the long-held belief that poor economic perform­ ance in the region owed to public policy that remained hostile to private in­ vestment, counseling governments to reduce the role of the state in manag­ ing economic affairs. After Nixon encountered protests wherever he went

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and was nearly killed by rioters in Caracas, Venezuela, the administration was persuaded to modify its position on economic aid for the region. Like its Democratic predecessor, the Elsenhower White House remained unwilling to consider a program of the magnitude of the Marshall Plan to fund basic in­ frastructure, the construction of which Latin American leaders insisted was a prerequisite to attracting private capital to their region. Persuaded by Dillon and others of the link between economic stagnation abroad and IJ.S. na­ tional security interests, the administration supported the creation of a mul­ tilateral regional development hank and pledged almost half of the $1 billion in its initial capital. In October I960 the Inter-American Development Bank opened for business, but with far fewer resources than regional leaders de­ sired. Moreover, Latin America continued to receive less than 10 percent of DLF loans, most of which went to front-line states of the Cold War in Asia. Although an external “shock” had prompted the administration to reconsider its foreign aid program, once again it determined that only a moderate ad­ justment was required to address the underlying threat to national security. As NSC 5902/1 reiterated, private investment and trade held the key to ac­ celerating development.51 In extending the Cold W ir to Latin America, Castro’s revolution “proved” that economic stagnation fomented the spread of communism. Washington in­ tervened regionally in a variety of ways to prevent political radicalism from spreading beyond the Cuban beachhead. The revival of Moscow’s foreign aid program in the region made dedsive action all the more uigent. With the com­ mitment of $500 million to a newly established Social Progress Trust Fund, a predecessor to the Alliance for Progress program of the Kennedy administra­ tion, economic aid now played a greater role in accomplishing Washington’s security objectives.52 It no longer sufficed to instruct the region’s elites to rely on market-driven development, for now there was a specific emergency to ad­ dress. At the same time, the fond did not constitute a fondamental change in U.S. foreign aid policy. Officials did not want to use public capital to under­ write a broad-based program of regional development and therefore did not provide the funding that regional leaders desired and economic experts pre­ scribed. Rather, Washington funded projects that specifically combated com­ munism through political, economic, and social institutional reform. Officials hoped that a more generous transfer of resources would succeed where diplo­ macy had failed in encouraging the region’s governments to refashion politi­ cal economies along the lines that Washington desired.

DEVELOPMENT, MODERNIZATION, AND THE THIRD WORLD

The influence of contemporary social science thinking on the Elsenhower administration’s foreign aid policy was limited. American development

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economists, modernization theorists, and foreign policy makers in the Elsen­ hower administration shared an enthusiasm for America’s technologically ori­ ented development path and tlie material culture and consumer goods it had produced.33 They also recognized and appreciated the role that external capi­ tal had played in hiding America’s industrialization. All broadly agreed on tlie desirability of improving economic conditions in postcolonial and neocolonial states. Yet U.S. policymakers distinguished qualitatively between private and public sources of capital. Social scientists focused their attention on increasing tlie quantity of capital flows to developing economies. Indeed, they advocated on behalf of a “big push” to accelerate the development process. At the same time, recalling the American experience, Elsenhower officials privileged private investment and remained focused on increasing capital flows from these sources. They assumed that American capital directed to private enter­ prise was inherently more productive than U.S. financial assistance to govern­ ments. They agreed wholeheartedly with Secretary of State Acheson, who told tlie Pan American Society in Septemlier 1949 that others woukl do well to em­ ulate America, which “has been built by private initiative, a n d . . . remains a land of private initiative.” Moreover, they agreed that there was no need for “rapid industrialization per se” to close income gaps between developed and devel­ oping economies.34 When they conceded the desirability of new economic aid programs, administration officials deployed public capital cautiously in ways that might increase private invesunent. At no time did policymakers ac­ cept social scientists’ calculations of the amount of public capital that Washing­ ton should supply. The maturing of development economics as an academic discipline coin­ cided with the emergence of postcolonial states, which in large part occuned during Elsenhower’s tenure in office. While the concept of economic devel­ opment was not new to the postwar period, theorists’ idea that the economies of Asia, Africa, and Latin America differed fundamentally from those of Europe and North America and that tlie latter should assist the former with substantial financial assistance broke new ground. The leading scliolars in die field asso­ ciated the problem of development in postcolonial states with a lack of re­ sources devoted to investment, owing to low rates of savings. Relying on sim­ ple models of development that focused on capital fonnation as die key to growth and proposing that “hidden resources” would emerge, either naturally or through planning, during the development process, they called on govern­ ments of die developed nadons to compeasate for a lack of domestic invest­ ment required for “self-sustained growth,” in Rostow’s taxonomy. Once an economy became self-sustaining, domestic savings would rise, obviating the need for governments to supply addidonal public capital. Buoyed by the per­ ceived success of the Marshall Plan, development economists and their adher­ ents believed that foreign aid would facilitate the closing of gaps in per capita income—their key measure of progress.35

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Institutionally development economics theory found its fullest expression in proposals for multilateral development grant funds. Perhaps most promi­ nently, a group of economic experts that the UN secretary-general had ap­ pointed to report on unemployment in developing economies recom­ mended the creation of such an entity. The British Commonwealth also endorsed the multilateral approach in its Colombo Plan, a program of eco­ nomic development for South and Southeast Asia. Advisors to the Truman administration also called for U.S. participation in multilateral efforts. H ie socalled Gray and Rockefeller committees agreed that poverty itself was a pri­ mary obstacle to development and recommended that Washington support UN development efforts and increase its bilateral grant and loan programs. H ie Rockefeller Committee called for the creation of an international devel­ opm ent authority (IDA), with Washington contributing $200 million of the $500 million in initial capital.36 The Elsenhower administration opposed the creation of such vehicles for aid disbursement. The Randall Report, its foreign economic policy blueprint, rejected the aid recommendations of the Gray and Rockefeller reports. Ran­ dall and other key advisors to the president believed that Washington would put up the majority of funds for diese facilities but have no control over the disbursement of funds. The administration favored bilateral aid, extended se­ lectively to governments that were confronting a direct communist threat, rather than multilateral programs that made funds available to any govern­ ment interested in economic development, regardless of political alignment (or lack thereof). The administration also feared that governments in the de­ veloping world would come to see UN grants and loans as a “normal” source of capital and would have little incentive to attract private investment. Given the limited financial resources of many potential applicants, such facilities would extend grants or “soft” loans for “non-self-liquRlating” social and eco­ nomic infrastructure projects. U.S. officials feared that such akl would un­ dermine Exim and World Bank operations, which served the interests of U.S. foreign policy. In time the administration considered the creation of multi­ lateral facilities such as the IDA, but limited their operations so they would not conflict with U.S. security interests. Dividing the world along East-West political lines, the Elsenhower administration disappointed those who saw the world split along North-South economic ones.37 Modernization theory influenced U.S. foreign aid policy more than devel­ opment economics because of the policy entrepreneurship of Rostow and Mil­ likan, based at MITs Center for International Studies. In A Proposal: Key to an Effective Foreign Policy and other forums, they laid out the theoretical link be­ tween development and security in a way that satisfied skeptical members of Congress. In terms of theory, modernization did not extend much beyond de­ velopment economics during Elsenhower’s presidency. Indeed, as Nils Gilman observes, because of Rostow and Millikan, modernization theory is

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misapprehended “primarily as a theory of economic development,” with the containment of communism its overriding concern. Moreover, the administra­ tion remained only marginally interested in Rostow’s and Millikan’s large-scale program proposals. And while policymakers began to talk increasingly in tenus of modernization rather than development in their discussious about for­ eign aid, their linking of development in vulnerable areas to national security predates Rostow’s and Millikan’s connection of the two.38 The genius of Rostow’s and Millikan’s policy entrepreneurship lay in their ability to tap the vein of cultural enthusiasm that invigorated modernization theory while reducing the task at hand to one of obtaining a measurable eco­ nomic output—productivity—from a defined financial input—foreign aid. Both modernization theory and development economics were grounded in the national celebration of scientific, industrial, and technological “progress” that enabled Americaas to enjoy high levels of income, wealth, and con­ sumption. Modernization theory, however, embraced social traasformation. It promised “that the foreign could be made familiar,” as Michael Latham lias written. With Washington’s financial and technical assistance, other societies could become like postwar America. Development economists focused their attention on building physical infrastructure. Modernization theory implied levels of cultural manipulation and external control greater tlian the admin­ istration was willing to accept and Congress was willing to hind. Rostow and Millikan shared the enthusiasm of modernization theorists for societal change but aigued that its accomplishment would result from a defined in­ fusion of public capital. Rapid economic growth, the primary measure of change, could occur without social or political upheaval. In the context of the Soviet economic offensive, such promises appealed to policymakers who were disappointed in levels of trade and private investment and con­ vinced them that economic aid would yield the short-term boost in produc­ tivity that, as Eisenhower put it, “relieves pressures in the world that are fa­ vorable to Communism.”39 Rostow and Millikan did not generate new ideas on the link between eco­ nomic development and national security as much as they advocated on be­ half of views promoted during the Truman administration and retained by many lower-level officials in the Eisenhower administration. For instance, as early as 1946, President Tnirnan endorsed the assertion that “well-directed" foreign aid would bring about “the modernization of economically backward areas.” In the wake of Truman’s Point Four speech, the NAC sanctioned grants to promote development “at a rate faster than the countries might un­ dertake exclusively on a loan basis” when political considerations recom­ mended their use. Grants-in-aid to help nations in gcopolitically critical ar­ eas would “satisfy the basic needs of their peoples” and therefore would “achieve support of United States foreign policy objectives.” According to As­ sistant Secretary of State Willard Thorp, for political reasons, it was ultimately

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the “responsibility of the (U.S.) Government to see that we as a nation give our strong support to the realization of the aspirations of the peoples in un­ derdeveloped areas," and supplement private investment with public re­ sources if the former proved insufficient. Within the Eisenhower administra­ tion, officials at the department level, such as assistant secretaries of state John Moors Cabot and Roy Richard Rubottom, called for a greater emphasis on mobilizing economic aid “in the light against world communism" than the White House was initially willing to consider. Rebutting the Randall report, the State Department commented: “In many underdeveloped areas, the relationship of our security to programs of development is direct and imme­ diate. . . . Economic aid Us regarded asj a weapon in the fight agaiast work! communism.”40 Rostow’s and Millikan’s policy entrepreneurship elevated this thinking to the highest levels of the administration. By exposing the ineffectiveness of the administration’s premature bid to liberalize the 1FE, modernization theo­ rists persuaded top officials that foreign aid would counter the communist threat. By the late 1950s, the president and his closest advisors believed that increased funding of economic foreign aid would promote national security. ProgrammaticaUy foreign aid reverted to the mix of private and public re­ sources advocated by Gray and Rockefeller reports, but at far lower levels of funding. During Elsenhower’s first term, the waning of a direct military threat appeared to create an opportunity to “normalize” foreign economic relatioas with postcolonial and neocolonial states. Rostow and Millikan exploited the waxing of the communist threat in economic form to argue for changes in the U.S. foreign aid program. They succeeded to the extent that modifica­ tions in policy were consistent with precedents established during the Roo­ sevelt and Truman administrations. Returning once again to Dulles’s statement that foreign aid was “far and away the most important single aspect” of U.S. foreign policy in halting the communist advance, it is clear that this sentiment drove Washington’s eco­ nomic and political relations with the Third World during Elsenhower’s tenure in office. Aid was conceived as containing military and economic threats from Moscow rather than meeting recipients’ desire for rapid indus­ trialization. And aid’s importance to America’s foreign policy generally de­ rived from Washington’s stark division of the geopolitical map into “free” and “enslaved” areas. At the same time, aid was defined as one step in the greater economic goal of trade and investment liberalization. Eisenhower’s architects of foreign aid policy found themselves in a situa­ tion similar to one that State Department planners faced during the 1930s. Government-erected barriers shackled global flows of goods and capital. The tools at policymakers’ disposal were insufficient to reduce them. When states that promoted economic autarky threatened to expand their influence in developing regions of strategic interest to Washington, policymakers

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responded with programs of moderate scale to align political loyalties and reform domestic political economies. Aid programs may have created costly and unproductive dependent relationships in terias of treasure and security, yet in the minds of Dulles and other top officials, they were Washington’s most potent tool in countering the communist threat short of war.41 The scale and scope of the administration’s aid initiatives reflected their status as emeigency measures designed to address an immediate security threat. Promoting global capitalism remained the primary long-term objec­ tive. The administration’s foreign aid policy thus reflected the coalescing of the “Washington consensus” on market-oriented reforms, which continues to shape U.S. foreign economic policy in the present. Unable to convince Con­ gress to fond aid programs on a long-term basis or reduce tariffs substan­ tially, the administration increasingly relied on Washington-based financial iastitutioas to promote capitalism overseas. With the convertibility of Euro­ pean currencies in 1958, the IMF joined the World Dank and Exirn as a fi­ nancial institution working to liberalize the IPE on terias that favored Amer­ ica, given its hegemonic position. Sovereign borrowers secured these iastitutions’ funds conditionally, promising to create political economies fa­ vorable to global trade and investment. The administration enjoyed more success in strengthening the institutional basis for liberalizing die IPE than in realizing it. The foreign aid policy of the Eisenhower administration was consistent with precedent. Policymakers justified foreign aid as an emergency security response and extended it within a Washington-dominated framework to en­ sure diat it supported U.S. political, military, and economic objectives. They rejected economic aid as a substitute for private capital. Rather they intended it to enlarge the role for private capital in developing economies and to fore­ stall the encroachment of Moscow’s economic influence. Officials remained ambivalent about foreign aid as an engine of development, especially be­ cause Third World elites often preferred socialism or state capitalism as de­ velopment strategies. Hence, the economic foreign aid program remained moderate in scale relative to the demand for capital from postcolonial and neocolonial states and failed to curb the communist threat in the Third World.

NOTES 1. The so-called Randall Gimmlssion, which ELsenliower had appointed to study die issue of foreign economic policy, liad Issued its report. Eisenhower's message hilly re­ flected its recommendations. Dwight D. Elsenhower, “Special Message to G ingress on Foreign Economic Policy,” 30 March 1954, Public Papers o f the Presidents o f the United States: Dwight D. Eisenhower, 1954 (Washington, D.C., 1955), 352-64, 353.

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2. The Bretton Woods Agreement Act estaMLshed a multilateral fund to stabilize exchange rates and control capital flows, die culmination o f which was die dollaranchored international payments regime estalillshed under the auspices o f the Inter­ national Monetary Fund. Almost as an afterthought, Treasury Department planners devised the International Bank for Reconsuuction and Development, commonly know n as the Work) Bank, to estaMish a centralized institution to lend sulistantial am ounts o f public capital at subsidized interest rates. President Franklin D. Rtxrsevelt had created Exim by executive order in 1934 as an export facility to overcome die ob­ stacles to trade posed by exchange controls, tariffs, and die lack o f interest of com­ mercial banks in longer-tem i credits. Eugene Black, a C luse National Bank vice president, served as president of die Workl Bank througlioui Elsenhower's tenure in office. On the creation o f die Workl Bank, see Armand Van Dormael, Bretton Woods: Birth o f a M onetary System (London, 1978); Alfred E. Eckes, Jr., A Search fo r Sol­ vency: Bretton Woods a n d the International M onetary System, 1941-1971 (Austin, Tex., 1975); R klurd N. Gardner, Sterling-Dollar Diplomacy in Current Perspective: The Origins a n d the Prospects o f O ur International Economic Order (New York, 1980 (19561); and Edward S. Mason and Rotiert E. Aslier, The World B ank since Bret­ ton Woods (Washington, D.C., 1973). O n the history o f Exim, see Fredetkk C. Adams, Economic Diplomacy: The Export-Import B ank a n d Am erican Foreign Policy, 1934-1939 (Columbia, Mo., 1976); William H. Becker and William M. M cClenalun, Jr., The Market, the State, a n d the Export-Import B ank o f the United Stores (New York, 2003); Rita M. Rodriguez, ed., The Export-Import B ank a t Fifty: The International En­ vironm ent a n d the Institution’s Role (Washington, D.C., 1987). 3. See Michael R. Adamson, “Delusions o f Devekipment: The Eisenhower Administratkm and die Foreign Akl Program in Vietnam, 1955-60,'* Journal o f Am ericanEast Asian Relations 5 (Summer 1996): 157-82, for a discussion o f pm lilem s with die EisenlKiwer adm inistration's ftireign aid program. 4. Dulles quoted in Memorandum o f Discussion, 25 O ctober 1956, Foreign Rela­ tions o fth e United States, 1955-1957,vol. 10 (Washington, D.C., 1989): 118 (hereafter FRUS folkiwed by year and volume numlier). Elsenliower, “Special Message to Con­ gress on Foreign Economic Policy,“ 361-62; “OMiunents on Specific Recommenda­ tions,” attachm ent to Smidi to Hauge, FRUS, 1952-54, 1: 51. H ie classic text on for­ eign econom ic policy o f the Elsenhower adminlstratkm remains Burton 1. Kaufman, Trade a n d Aid: Eisenhower’s Foreign Economic Policy, 1953-1961 (Baltimore, 1982). See also Burton 1. Kaufman, “Eisenliower’s Foreign Economic Policy with Re­ spect to East Asia,” 104-20, in The Great Pouvrs in East Asia, 1953-60, ed. Warren I. Cohen (New York, 1990); Step!ten G. Ralie, Eisenhower a n d Latin America: The For­ eign Policy o f Anti-C om m unism (C lupel Hill, N.C., 1988); W. W. Rostow, Eisen­ hower, Kennedy, a n d Foreign A id (Austin, Tex., 1985), 85 (quoted); Thomas Zoumarls, “Elsenhower’s Foreign Economic Policy: H ie Case o f Latin America,” 154-83, in Reevaluating Eisenhower: Am erican Foreign Policy in the 1950s, ed. Richard A. Melanson and David Mayers (Urhana, III., 1987). O n die lack of effective­ ness o f devekipm ent akl, see, ftir instance, David L Anderson, Trapped by Success: The Eisenhower Adm inistration a n d Vietnam, 1953-61 (New York, 1991); Nick Cullather, Illusions o f Influence: The Political Econom y o f the United States-Pbilippines Relations, 1942-1960(Stanford, Cal., 1994); and William J. Duiker, U.S. Containm etit Policy a n d the Conflict in Indochina (Stanford, Cal., 1994), 211-47. Total aid flows

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from 1955-60 may lie found in Rostow, Eisenhower, Kennedy, a n d Foreign Aid, table 9, «6-7. 5. Eric Helleiner, States a n d the Emergence o f Glolutl Finance: From Bretton Woods to the 1990s (Ithaca, N. Y., 1994); G. John lkenlierry, “A World Economy Re­ stored: Expert Conseasus and the Anglo-American Postwar Settlement," Interna­ tional O rganization 46 (W inter 1992): 2K9-321. 6. Clarence B. Randall, A Foreign Economic Policyfo r the United States (Chicago, 1954), 7. See also Commission on Foreign Economic Policy, Report to the President a n d the Congress (Washington, D.C., 1954). 7. "Position Paper on General Assembly Resolution to Establish Grant Fund for Economic Developm ent,” 2 May 1952, FRUS, 1952-54, l: 252-4; Elsenhower, “Spe­ cial Message to Congress on Foreign Economic Policy," 361; Randall, A Foreign Eco­ nom ic Policy fo r the United States, 25-35; Humphery to Randall, 20 March 1957, FRUS, 1955-57, 10: 176-7. 8. "Comments on Specific Recommendatioas,” attachm ent to Smith to Haugc, FRUS, 1952-54, 1: 52; Waugh to tile Secietary of Stale, FRUS, 1952-54, 1: 296-8; Humphery to ELsenltower, 7 May 1956, in Rostow, Eisenhower, Kennedy, a n d For­ eign Aid, 116-8; John W. Synder, Statement before the U.S. Senate Committee on Banking and Currency, 9 August 1949, W inthrop W. Aldrich Papers, Baker Library, Harvard Business Sclux>l, Boston, box 138; Kevin M. Casey, Sating International Capitalism D uring the Truman Adm inistration: Ih e N ational Advisory Council on International M onetary a n d F inancial Problems (London, 2001); Rick E. Devries, "Bankers and Bretton Wcxxis: Origias of Postwar International Monetary Agree­ ments" (Ph.D. dlss., University o f Notre Dame, 2000); Jochen Kraske et al., Bankers with a Mission (New York, 1996), chaps. 2-3; Tyler Priest, "Banking on Development: Brazil in die United States's Search for Strategic Minerals, 1945-1953,” The Interna­ tional History Review 21 (June 1999): 297-330, 302 (qutMed). 9. Michael R. Adamson, “‘Must We Overkxrk All Impairment o f O ur Interests?’: Debating the Foreign Aid Role of the Export-Import Bank, 1934-41,” Diplom atic His­ tory, forthcoming; Becker and McClenahan, The Market, the State, a n d the ExportIm port B ank o f the United Stales, 28-40, 92-109. 10. Bureau of Economic Affairs, Departm ent of State, "Foreign Economic Relatioas o f die United States,” 17 May 1954, FRUS, 1952-54, 1: 65-6; Randall quoted in FitzGerald to Hollister, 16 July 1956, 78; Macy to Brundage, 4 Septemlier 1956, 103-4; Jones to Randall, 20 Novemlrer 1956, 134 (quoted); M emorandum of Discussion, 320th NSC Meeting, 17 April 1957, 181-7; Memorandum of Discussion, Bipartisan Congressional Meeting, 9 May 1957, 192-3 (all found in FRUS, 1955-57, 10); Kauf­ man, Trade a n d Aid, 53-7. 11. See, for instance, Commission on Foreign Economic Policy, Report to the Pres­ ident a n d the Congress, 16-26; Bureau of Economic Affairs, Department of State, "Foreign Economic Relatkms of the United States,” 17 May 1954, 81-2; Smith to Cer­ tain Diplomatic Offices, 3 September 1954, 294; Randall to Elsenhower, 7 December 1954, 105-6 (all found in FRUS, 1952-54, 1); NSC 5613/1, 25 Septemlier 1956, FRUS, 1955-57, 6 (Washington, D.C., 1987): 124-5; Hollister to Dulles, 29 August 1956, 98-9; M emorandum o f Discussion, 25 O ctolier 1956, 122; Memorandum o f Discusskm, 301st Meeting of the National Security Council, 26 Octolxîr 1956, 132; Memo­ randum o f Discussion, 320th Meeting of the Natk>nal Security Council, 17 April 1957,

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184-6 (all found in FRUS, 1955-57, 10); NSC 5707/8, 3 June 1957, FRIJS, 1 9 5 5 -5 7 ,19 (W ashington, D.C., 1990): 513-7; NSC 5810/1, 5 May 1958,106-7; Memorandum Pre­ pared by the Policy Planning Staff, 5 May 1958, 17-19; Memorandum o f Conversa­ tion, 6 February 1959,38-40 (all found in FRUS,1 9 5 8 -6 0 ,4 (Washington, D.C., 19921). 12. Kaufman, Trade a n d Aid, esp. chap. 10; Chester J. Pach, Jr., and Elmo Richard­ son, The Presidency o f Dwight D. Eisenhower, rev. ed. (Lawrence, Kan., 1991), 53-4, 167-76, 200-3, 211-2; Rabe, Eisenhower a n d Latin Am erica, 64-83; Rostow, Eisen­ hower, Kennedy, a n d Foreign Aid. 13. M emorandum of Discussion, 269th NSC Meeting, 8 December 1955, FRUS, 1 9 5 5 -5 7 ,10: 48; Kaufman, Trade a n d Aid, esp. diap. 7; Kathleen R. McNamara, The C urrency o f Ideas: M onetary Politics in the European Union, d iap. 4; Pach and Richardson, The Presidency o f Dwight D. Eisenhower, chap. 3. David Ryan charac­ terizes post-W orid War 11 inter-American relations as “a form o f colonialism” (“Colo­ nialism and Hegemony in Latin America: An Introduction,” International History Re­ view 21 (June 19991: 287-96). 14. Minutes, National Advisory Council on International Monetary and Financial Prolilem s (hereafter NAC) Meeting 172, 17 April 1951, NAC Minutes of Meetings, Records o f tte NAC, Record Group (tereafter RG) 56, (National Archives 11, College Park, Md. (hereafter NAH) box 2; Decker and McClenalian, The Market, the Slate, arul the Export-Import B ank o f the United States, 59-82; Casey, Saving International Cap­ italism D uring the Trum an Adm inistration, 101-22; Priest, “Banking on Develop­ m ent,” 302-10. 15. NAC Document 1079, 13 December 1950, NAC Documents and Supplements, Records o f tire NAC, RG 56, NAH, lx»x 21; Decker and McClenalian, The Market, the State, a n d the Export-Import B ank o f the United States, 82-99; Kaufman, Trade a n d Aid, 29-32; Tyler Priest, Global Gambits: Big Steel a n d the U.S. Questfo r M anganese (W estport, Conn., 2003), chap. 8. 16. “Financial Policy Q uestions re Foreign Assistance Programs Proposed for Fis­ cal Year 1952,” NAC Document 1081, 22 December 1950, NAC Documents and Sup­ plem ents, Records of the NAC, RG 56, NAH, lx>x 21. 17. Roben M. Blum, Drawing the Line: The Origin o f the Am erican C ontainm ent Policy in East Asia (New York, 1982); William Adams Drown Jr. and Redvers Opie, Am erican Foreign Assistance (W ashington, D.C.), 333-7; Chester J. Pach, Jr., Arm ing the Free World: The Origins o f the United States M ilitary Assistance Program, 1945-1950 (Cliapel Hill, N. C , 1991 ). 18. Stephen G. Rahe, “The Elusive Conference: United States Economic Relations with Latin America, 1945-1952," Diplomatic History 2 (Summer 1978): 279-94; Rahe, Eisenhower a n d Latin Am erica, 15-19. 19. “Status o f National Security Programs on June 30, 1955,” NSC 5525, 31 August 1955, 17-25; Corbett to Prochnow, 28 O ctober 1955, 27 (quoted); NSC Planning Board, “Review of Military Assistance and Supporting Programs,” enclosure to Lay Members o f die NSC, 29 November 1955, 41-2; Prochnow to the Secretary o f State, 27 July 1956, 85-7; Macy to Drundage, 4 September 1956, 102-4; Memorandum o f Discusskin, 25 O cto ter 1956, 119-21; Memorandum of Discussion, 301st NSC Meet­ ing, 26 O ctober 1956, 125; Jones to Randall, 20 November 1956, 136; Memorandum o f Discussion, 9 May 1957, 193-4 (all found in FRUS, 1 9 5 5 -5 7 ,10); Rate, Eisenhower a n d Latin Am erica, diap. 4.

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20. Report lo tlie Council on Foreign Economic Policy, 6 M ardi 1958, FRUS, 1958-60, 4: 11-12; Kaufman, Trade a n d Aid, 58-65; Rostow, Eisenhower, Kennedy, a n d Foreign Aid, 15-20. 21. Bureau of Economic Affairs, Departm ent o f State, “Foreign Economic Relations o f tlie United States," 17 May 1954, FRUS, 1952-54, 1: 68. 22. David C. Engennan, “West Meets East: Tlie Center lV>r International Studies and Indian Economic Development," 199, in Staging Growth: M odernization, Develop­ m ent, a n d the Global Cokl War, eds. David C Engennan, Nils Gilman, Mark H. Haefele, and Michael S. Latham (Amherst, Mass., 2005). 25. See, for instance, Memorandum of Discussion, 266th NSC Meeting, 15 Novem­ ber 1955, 28-9; Memorandum of Discussion, 273rd NSC Meeting, 18 January 1956, 64-5 (all found in FRUS, 1955-57, 10). 24. M emorandum o f Discussion, 266th NSC Meeting, 15 Novemlier 1955, 30 (quoted); Jones to Randall, 20 Novemlier 1956, 154-5; Memorandum o f Discussion, 267th NSC Meeting, 21 Novemlier 1955, 32-3; Memorandum of Discussion, 266th NSC Meeting, 8 Decemlier 1955, 54; Memorandum of Discussion, 320th NSC Meeting, 17 April 1957,182,187 (all found in FRUS, 1 9 5 5 -5 7 ,10); Minutes o f the Cabinet Meet­ ing, 10 January 1958, FRUS, 1958-60, 4: 1; Kaufman, Trade a n d Aid, 65-8. 25. Dulles quoted in Rabe, Eisenhower a n d Latin Am erica, 94; Bureau of Eco­ nomic Affairs, Departm ent o f State, “Foreign Economic Relations o f die United States,” 17 May 1954, FRUS, 1952-54, 1: 68; Memorandum o f Discussion, 267dt NSC Meeting, 21 Novemlier 1955, 36; Hollister lo die Secretary of State, 29 August 1956, 98-9; M emorandum o f Discussion, 25 O ctolier 1956, 122-3; Memorandum o f Discusskin, 301st NSC Meeting, 26 Octolier 1956, 132; Memorandum of Discussion, 320th NSC Meeting, 17 April 1957, 182, 184-6 (all found in FRUS, 1955-57, 10); Pol­ icy Planning Staff, Department of State, “U.S. Policy Concerning Soviet Development Aid to Free Countries,” 5 May 1958, 17-19; Departm ent of State, “Future Development Financing, undated (19591, 308-9 (all found in FRUS, 1958-60, 4). 26. Jones to Randall, 29 Novemlier 1956,136 (quoted); Prochnow to the Secretary o f State, 27 July 1956, 85-7, 86; Macy to Brundage, 4 Septemlier 1956, 102—4; Memo­ randum o f Discussion, 301st NSC Meeting, 26 Octolier 1956, 124-32 (all found in FRUS 1955-57, 10). 27. Donald L M. Blackmer, The Center fo r International Studies: The Founding Yeats, 1951-1969 (Cambridge, Mass., 2002); Kaufman, Trade a n d Aid, 95-112; Ros­ tow, Eisenhower, Kennedy, a n d Foreign Aid, 121-51. 28. NSC 5612/1, “U.S. Policy in Mainland Southeast Asia,” 5 Septemlier 1956, FRUS 1955-57, 21 (Washington, D.C., 1990): 253-63; NSC 5613/1, “U.S. Policy tow ard Latin America,” 25 Septemlier 1956, FRUS 1955-57, 6: 121, 122; NSC 5701, “U.S. Policy To­ ward South Asia,” 10 January 1957, FRUS 1955-57, 8 (Washington, D.C., 1987): 34, 40; NSC 5707/8, “Basic National Security Policy,” 3 June 1957, FRUS 1955-57, 19 (Washington, D.C., 1990): 515. 29. Millikan and Rostow called on Washington to contrilxite $2 billion over ten years to a $3-5 billion multilateral developm ent fund. See dieir A Proposal: Key to an Effective Foreign Policy (New York, 1957). 30. M emorandum o f Dlscusskin, 348th NSC Meeting, 12 Decemlier 1957, FRUS 1955-57, 10: 198-200; Dulles to Nixon, 10 January 1958, 2-3; Smith to Randall, 7 February 1958, 6-8; Department of Stale, Report to the Council on Foreign Economk'

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Policy, 6 March 1958, 9-12; Memorandum o f Conversatkm, 26 March 1958, 14-15; Policy Planning Staff, Department o f State, “U.S. Policy Concerning Soviet Develop­ ment Aid to Free Countries,” 5 May 1958, 16-22, 18 (quoted); Harr, Memorandum for the Record, 19 May 1958, 22-3; Memorandum o f Conversation, 6 February 1958, 38-41; Departm ent o f State, "Future Development Financing,’ undated 119591, 308-9 (all found in FRUS, 1958-60, 4); NSC 5810/1, “Basic National Security Policy,’ 5 May 1958, FRUS 1958-60, 3 (Washington, D C., 1996): 106 (quoted), 107. 31. Rahe, Eisenhower a n d Latin Am erica, chap. 6. 32. Rahe, Eisenhower a n d Latin Am erica, chap. 8. 33- Michael Adas, “M txlemization Theory and the American Revival of the Scien­ tific and Technological Standards o f Social Achievement and Human Worth,” 25-45, in Staging Growth; William E. Akin, Technocracy a n d the Am erican Dream: The Technocrat M ovement, 1900-1941 (Berkeley, Calif., 1977): David M. Hart, Forgetl Consensus: Science, Technology, a n d Economic Policy tn the United States, 1921-1953 (Princeton, N. J., 1998); TtKxnas P. Huglies, Am erican Genesis: A Cen­ tury o f Invention a n d Technological Enthusiasm, 1870-1970 (New York, 1989); John M. Jordan, M achine-Age Ideology: Social Engineering a n d Am erican Liberal­ ism, 1911-1939 iChapel Hill, N. C , 1994). 34. Acheson quoted in Ralre, Eisenhower a n d Latin Am erica, 18-19. 35. H. W. Arndt, Econom ic Development: The H istory o f A n Idea (Chicago, 1987); Jagdish N. Bhagwati, “D evelopm ent Economics: What Have We Learnt?,” in W ealth a n d Poverty: Essays in D evelopm ent Econom ics, ed. G ene Grossm an, vol. 1 (Cam bridge, Mass., 1985); Douglas C. Dacy, Foreign Aid, War, a n d Econom ic D evelopment: South Vietnam, 1955-1975 (Cam bridge, U.K., 1986); W. W. Rostow, The Stages o f Econom ic Growth: A M on-Com m unist M anifesto (Cam bridge, U.K., 1960). 36. Report to the President on Foreign Econom ic Policies [Gray Report] (Wash­ ington, D.C., 1950); United Nations, G roup o f Experts, M easures fo r the Econom ic D evelopm ent o f Under-Developed Countries (New York, 1951); International De­ velopm ent Advisory Board, Partners in Progress, A Report to the President by the In tern a tio n a l D evelopm ent Advisory Board (W ashington, D.C., 1951); Bureau o f Econom ic Affairs, D epartm ent o f State, “Position Paper on G eneral Assembly Res­ olution to Establish Grant Fund for Economic D evelopm ent," FRUS 1952-54, 1: 230-5. 37. Randall, A Foreign Economic Policy fo r the United States; Minutes of 211th M eeting o f the National Advisory Council on International Monetary and Financial Prohlems, 1 June 1954, 281-3; Foreign O perations Administration, “Suggested LoanGrant Policy,” 1 June 1954, 284-5; Bloomfield to Key, 23 August 1954, 288-90; Mem­ orandum by the Senior Adviser to the United States Delegation to the United Nations, 9 September 1954, 97-9 (all found in FRUS, 1952-54, 1); Humphery to Elsenhower, 7 May 1956, in Rostow, Eisenhower, Kennedy, a n d Foreign Aid, 116- 8; Jones to Ran­ dall, 20 Novemlier 1956, FRUS, 1955-57, 10: 135-6; Humphery to Randall, 21 March 1957, FRUS, 1955-57, 10: 178-9. 38. Nils Gilman, M andarins o f the Future: M odernization Theory in O dd War Am erica (Baltimore, Md., 2003), 174-99, 190 (quoted); Mark H. Haefele, “Walt Rostow 's Stages of Economic Growth: Ideas and Action," 88-97, in Stagittg Grou’tb; Blackmer, The Centerfo r International Studies, 115-8.

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39. Michael Ë. Latham, “Introduction: M0

99

55. Memorandum of phone conversation betw een Allen and John Foster Dulles, February 21, 1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 17: 47. 56. Memorandum o f discussion at NSC meeting, February 27,1958, ibid., 49. 57. M emorandum of discussion at NSC meeting, March 13, 1958, ibid., 65. 58. Q uoted in Jones, "‘Maximum DLsavowable Aid'," 1200. 59. Dulles to the State Department, March 14, 1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 17: 67; Dulles press conference, March 13, 1958, U.S. D epartment o f State Bulletin. 60. M emorandum from die Joints Chiefs o f Staff to Secretary o f Defense Neil H. McElroy, April 8, 1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 17: 94-95. 61. Memorandum of conversation lietw een Dulles and Caccia, April 13, 1958, ibid., 99-100. 62. Jones, "‘Maximum Disavowahle Aid',” 1201. 63. Memorandum o f discussion at NSC meeting, April 24, 1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 17: 121-22. 64. Memorandum o f conversation lietw een Dulles and Luns, April 24,1958, ibid., 122-23. 65. Jones to the State Department, April 6,1958, ibid., 92-94. 66. Jones to the State Department, April 15, 1958, ibid., 111-13; Howard Palfrey Jones, Indonesia: The Possible Dream (New York: Harcourt Urace Jovanovich, 1971), pp. 123-28. 67. M emorandum from die Joint Chiefs of Staff to McElroy, April 18, 1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 17: 120. 68. Conlxiy and Morrison, Feet to the Fire, pp. 132-43. 69. Jones to die State Department, May 6,1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 17: 139-41. 70. Conboy and Morrison, Feet to the Fire, pp. 155-56.

5 Building a Colony: South Vietnam and the Eisenhower Administration, 1953-1961 Kathryn C. Statler

As nationalist liberation movements exploded and the Cold War became in­ creasingly globalized during the 1950s, the Eisenhower administration rec­ ognized the importance of demonstrating ils resolve and preparedness to fight the communists in the Third World. Nationalism, decolonization, Cold War concerns, and U.S. foreign policy collided in a number of Third World countries from 1953-1961, but nowhere was this collision more evident than in South Vietnam. When the Eisenhower administration first took over in 1953, the president and Secretary of State John Foster Dulles decided to con­ tinue the Truman administration’s policy of supporting the French colonial war effort in Vietnam against Ho Chi Minh’s nationalist forces. From 1953 to 1954, as the Cold War heated up, American aid increased drastically, as did American advice on how the French should conduct the war. Shortly after the 1954 Geneva Accords, which brought to a close the First Indochina War (1946-1954) and temporarily divided Vietnam at the seventeenth parallel pending reunification elections in 1956, American officials committed to building the southern half of Vietnam into a noncommunist, independent nation.1 And yet, by the end of Elsenhower’s second term, South Vietnam was not an independent nation but rather a client state of the U.S. govern­ ment. By 1961, then, the Eisenhower administration had assumed control in South Vietnam, replacing the French colonial presence with an American neocolonial one. Although American actions in South Vietnam cannot be compared to the first phase of French colonialism in the late nineteenth century, where the French engaged in a brutal and bloody conquest of Indochina, a number of 101

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similarities exist between the second phase of French colonialism and postGeneva American nation building. While French colonialism and American neocolonialism differed markedly in some respects—the American version was indirect, informal, and incomplete—both versions rested on similar perceptioas of Indochina as a place to be coastnicted on a Western model. Just as Paris had exported its lielief in the universal value of its civilization, so did Washington. The French had called their economic, moral, and cultural poli­ cies in Indochina mise en valeur, or “development,” while the Americaas preferred the term “modernization.” In the aftermath of Geneva, the United States tried to project an image that it was engaged in a moral mission based on generosity, benevolence, and protection, just as the French had prior to Geneva. And the Americaas used the same subtle tools of empire that the French had employed in the past—cultural and language institutioas, edu­ cational campaigas, exhibits, propaganda, military and economic assistance, and political pressure—to spread their Western values in South Vietnam while holding the line against communist advances. In attempting to understand how and why the administration committed to South Vietnam, this article focuses on three factors. First, South Viet­ namese leader Ngo Dinh Diem succeeded in wagging the tale of the dog as he manipulated Washington into providing increasing amounts of aid while simultaneously distancing himself from American policies. Diem thus dis­ played the same savvy diplomacy that other Third World leaders demon­ strated in wrangling economic and military aid from the United States while pursuing their own agendas at home and abroad. Second, Washington’s de­ termination to replace the French on a military, political, economic, and cul­ tural level in South Vietnam led to an accelerated American commitment. The Eisenhower administration sought to remove the vestiges of French colonialism as quickly as possible in order to portray South Vietnam as both a noncommunist and noncoloniallst Third World nation. Finally, as various agencies attempted to imprint American values and culture on the Viet­ namese population, the United States became more committed to moderniz­ ing and Westernizing South Vietnam. In the process, this gradual but deter­ mined nation-building effort began to take on shades of neocolonialism, the United States began to lose its anti-colonial credentials, and, eventually, the Elsenhower administration lost its ability to extricate itself from the increas­ ingly complicated situation in Vietnam.

W AGGING THE DOG

H ie first factor leading to an increased American commitment to nation building in South Vietnam was Ngo Dinh Diem. Diem’s supposedly proWestern, anti-communist, Catholic, and anti-corruption credentials appealed

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to American officials. And yet Diem systematically thwarted American de­ sires in South Vietnam by proclaiming himself not only an ardent anti­ communist, but also an independent Asian leader. From 1954 until his as­ sassination in 1963, Diem welcomed American aid but resisted the Elsen­ hower administration’s attempts to direct South Vietnamese policy. A suc­ cession of American special representatives and ambassadors (Donald Heath, J. Lawton Collins, G. Frederick Reinhardt, and Elbridge Durhrow) all failed to convince Diem of the value of American political, social, or eco­ nomic advice. In addition, Diem sought to gain the respect and cooperation of other Third World neutralist countries to escape being perceived as an American puppet. Despite Diem’s actions, the Elsenhower administration continued to hind his government in order to achieve an independent, noncommunist and, perhaps equally important, noncolonialist South Vietnam. Diem thus succeeded in expanding, intensifying, and prolonging the Amer­ ican commitment to South Vietnam, as many other Third World leaders suc­ ceeded in expanding, intensifying, and prolonging the Cold War.2 The West coaslstently underestimated Diem. Most Western accounts of Diem at the time and into the present assess him as an uncompromising and not very capable leader.3 But consider his accomplishments. This was the man who eliminated the Cao Dai, Hoa Hao, and Binh Xuyen sects in 1955,4 forced the French Expeditionary Corps (FEC) to leave South Vietnam, ob­ tained considerable U.S. aid, and imposed on the international community not only the end of the idea of the all-Vietnamese 1956 elections stipulated at the 1954 Geneva Conference, but also recognition that the country could not be reunified under present conditions. In addition, Diem created a con­ stitution where the executive was all powerful, established a South Viet­ namese National Assembly, and reintegrated at least 800,000 North Viet­ namese refugees. In the domestic arena, from 1955 to 1961 Diem began to consolidate his rule by promulgating the South Vietnamese constitution, reorganizing the government, and working on economic reform. American aid and advisors allowed him to carry out these tasks, but Diem tended to ignore American advice on their implementation and remained skeptical of American capa­ bilities to understand the situation in South Vietnam. Guaranteed American aid and training of ARVN (Army of South Vietnam) ensured internal security, at least for the time being, allowing Diem tQ focus on foreign policy. In the foreign arena, Diem successfully raised South Vietnam's interna­ tional standing by normalizing relatioas with other countries. By October 1956 South Vietnam had eleven diplomatic chiefs of mission located in France, the United States, Britain, Spain, Italy, Japan, Thailand, Philippines, Cambodia, Laos, Hong Kong, Jakarta, and Taipei, and had made greater strides than the North in being recognized internationally by more countries. But Diem was concerned that Asian countries viewed him as a Western

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construction.5 Once Diem had ensured South Vietnam’s political survival by refusing to participate in consultations for the 1956 elections, he became less dependent on the Americans. Before the election deadline Diem disparaged noncommitted or “nonaligned" nations, but after the deadline, Diem radi­ cally changed his policy by trying to improve relations with other Asian countries, moving away from a solely Western, that is to say American focus.6 Once Diem had ensured South Vietnam’s political survival, he could focus on cooperating with other Asian leaders. Diem first went to work on improving relations with India. He made a per­ sonal appearance in New Delhi from 4-9 November 1957. A major goal of his trip was to prove that he was not another Syngman Rhee or Chiang Kaishek, whom he considered vassals to the United Slates. Diem also liegan to travel to other countries and to receive a number of dignitaries, such as Burmese leader U Nu, in order to Ixxxst his international standing. He jour­ neyed to Washington, Canlierra, Seoul, Bangkok, Delhi, and Rangoon and met with members from die Colomlx) Plan as well as the Japanese prime minister and the Moroccan and Iraqi missions.7 Diem also secured an agree­ ment with Australia, Korea, and Thailand on solidarity of action against the communists. He worked to develop relations with the neutralist bloc, estalilish contact with Arab countries, and negotiate with Japan on war repara­ tions. And Diem attempted to join as many world organizations as possible to promote die South Vietnamese nation. Tlie recent travels of Diem and his officials throughout Southeast Asia be­ gan to dispel Asian misgivings about die regime. At the beginning of 1958, Diem was more acceptable to hesitant neutrals than Chiang Kai-shek or Syn­ gman Rhee, and was recognized by more tlian forty nations. Considering where he started three years ago, Diem’s achievements in foreign relations were noteworthy.8 As a result of American help, by late 1957, South Vietnam was represented in at least twenty UN special or affiliated agencies. South Vietnam became a member of the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development (IBRD), the International Monetary Fund (IMF), and the Colombo Plan. South Vietnam even belonged to the World Meteorological Association. The South Vietnamese enjoyed the benefits of technical training under die Colombo Plan, and the ninth annual conference was hosted in Saigon, where twenty-one natioas and observers from several international oiganizations participated.9 Domestically, South Vietnam did not fare as well. The Diem regime faced a hast of economic, administrative, and security problems. Its dependency on American aid and fight to maintain internal security alienated much of the population. According to British observers, South Vietnam had made politi­ cal improvements but long-term economic and administrative restructuring remained remote, and the Vietnamese population was Ibecoming increas­

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ingly dissatisfied with Diem. Moreover, Diem had not successfully imple­ mented land reform, with the result that less than 10 percent of the land had been redistributed.10 Despite the amount of aid the United States supplied, American power to influence Vietnamese policy in both domestic and for­ eign affairs was, as one British official noted, “remarkably incomplète,” a fact that frustrated American organizations in Vietnam.11 In particular, American officials despaired of Diem’s unwillingness to encourage foreign investment and private enterprise.12This American frustration would only grow more in­ tense as Diem consistently disregarded American suggestions.13 Meanwhile, Diem continued his efforts to turn toward Asia. During his Au­ gust 1957 visit to Bangkok, Diem emphasized the solidarity of Asian coun­ tries, the spiritual community that unified them, and the need to keep close ties in the face of the communist menace. Diem applied these same values at home through his philosophy of personalism. The chief of state offered himself as a model to his people, exalting his exemplary private life, perfect familial education, profound piety, austerity, and his revolutionary activities and qualities as a man of action. More important, Diem rejected both liberal capitalism and communism as a means of modernizing South Vietnam. Rather, he intended to rally the South Vietnamese population to work to­ gether to buikl a socially engaged and economically secure state. Through “personalism, community development, and collective progress” South Viet­ nam would achieve political, social, and economic stability, according to Diem.14 This plan ensured a difficult road ahead for South VietnameseAmerican relations.13 In assessing Diem’s philosophy of personalism, Jean Payart, the French ambassador to South Vietnam, drew a parallel to John Foster Dulles, stating that “the essential vice of Marxist society, for Diem and Dulles, was the crushing of the individual and injury of human nature.” Both men shared the same Manichean spirit, believing that this violence to the natural order could not last and that the people would reject it. Accordingly, the Vietnamese population would reject the communists. Diem envisioned “an Asian renais­ sance with himself as the leader of the Southeast Asia area.”16 Diem’s “new look” policy for South Vietnamese politics continued as he tried to ingratiate himself with the rest of Asia while continuing his diplomatic shift away from U.S. influence.17The American ambassador to South Vietnam, Elbridge Durbrow, worried that the American tactic of encouraging Diem to assume a more important role as a free world leader in Asia had backfired to a certain extent, noting that Diem “has given indications that the real or organized en­ thusiasm shown him on his visits may have gone to his head. He is begin­ ning to look upon himself a bit too pointedly as the great hope of Southeast Asia.”18 This balancing act between Asia and the United States brought Diem to a major crossroads in his foreign policy by 1958. According to the leading

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Western expert on Vietnam, Bernard Fall, South Vietnam could remain en­ tirely in the American camp at die risk of being branded a satellite. Or Saigon might find its way toward a middle path, but would then face political insta­ bility and economic problems without die large cushion of American sup­ port it now “enjoyed so well but not too wisely." Whichever the choice, “it would be agonizing—and it would have to be made by one man alone.”19In the end, Diem embraced die idea of maintaining South Vietnam’s liberty of action vis-à-vis the United Slates. Diem and his brother Ngo Dinh Nhu, a fig­ ure of growing importance in the government, also realized that Paris could serve as a valuable counterweight to Washington. After a long talk with Diem in March 1959, French Ambassador Roger Lalouette notified the Quai d’Orsay that “just as French President Charles De Gaulle advocated a third force between capitalism and communism in Europe, Diem hoped to create his own third force in Asia.”20 Moreover, after the 10 November I960 at­ tempted military coup in Saigon, Nhu stated that while the French had been “totally correct in their actioas” during the coup, he believed that American agents had supported the reliefs. Therefore, Nhu wanted “to work more closely with the French since he could not trust the Americaas.”21 American officials in South Vietnam faced an additional problem in con­ vincing Diem to follow a U.S. model—themselves. Despite Eisenhower’s as­ surance to Durbrow that he was indeed the top U.S. official in South Viet­ nam, Diem routinely ignored Durbrow’s suggestioas for reform. Lieutenant General Samuel Williams, who had replaced John O’Daniel as the leader of the Military Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG), consistently undermined Durbrow and the U.S. Embassy in Saigon by promising Diem that the Eisen­ hower administration would continue to support him whether he imple­ mented political and economic reforms or not.22 Williams also had the sup­ port of the CIA. Durbrow had attempted to remove Williams a number of times, but Diem insisted he stay.23 In addition, while die embassy and the United States Operations Mission (USOMJ contended that the economic de­ velopment of South Vietnam was at least as important as military training, MAAG and Diem argued that that military coasidcrations were paramount. Diem was thus able to play one American agency against another.24 As a result of Diem’s attempts to distance himself from the Americans and his refusal to engage in political and economic reform, the Eisenhower ad­ ministration finally appeared to be toughening its stance toward him.25 American officiais in Washington and Saigon worried that tile South Viet­ namese population would begin to hold the United States responsible for Diem’s failure to implement reforms. They also recognized that Diem would not adopt the necessary reforms unless the United States increased pressure to do so. Finally, a number of officials suggested that if Diem refused to ac­ cept what the United States coasidered “essential” reforms, the United Stales would have “no choice but to support some new leader who will.”26 There-

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fore, beginning in mid-1960, Durbrow indicated to Diem the strong Ameri­ can concern over corruption in his government and that the United States was considering withholding military aid unless Diem agreed to political and economic reforms.27 Despite this attempt to place more pressure on Diem, bureaucratic battles amongst the various American agencies operating in Vietnam made such efforts futile. In the end, Washington’s support of Diem had not given Washington greater influence over South Vietnamese policy; but American support had increased the U.S. commitment to an independent noncommunist South Vietnam and proved to be a lifeline for Ngo Dinh Diem. Increasing South Vietnamese difficulties can be attributed, in part, to the American failure to understand Third World nationalism and Diem’s motiva­ tions. American officials in Saigon continued to express surprise that despite substantial aid, Diem resisted American reforms. Diem, on the other hand, remained baffled as to why the Americans could not understand his deter­ mination to avoid both the democratic capitalist and the communist paths while pursuing his own.

REPLACING THE FRENCH

H ie second factor leading to the American commitment to nation building in South Vietnam was the Eisenhower administration’s determination to end the French presence. After the 1954 Geneva Accords, American leaders doubted the French ability to successfully sustain an independent noncom­ munist South Vietnam. Vietnam had become a back burner issue for the United States following the nonelections of 1956, but that dkl not mean the American presence in South Vietnam stagnated. Quite the opposite. As the number of American agencies in South Vietnam increased, American in­ fluence there became more prominent. The Elsenhower administration’s pri­ mary goal in South Vietnam was to buy time by continuing to prop up Diem’s government to strengthen Asian defease agaiast the communist threat.28 But, as a by-product of this support, each additional function Amer­ ican agencies undertook increased the American presence in South Vietnam. From 1955 to 1961, Washington engaged in a planned operation to replace the French militarily, politically, economically, and culturally. Militarily, the United States ended the Franco-American Training Relations Instruction Mis­ sion (TRIM), helped diminish the French military training school for Viet­ namese officers (Ecole Militaire Supérieur Vietnamienne or EMS), and set up the Training and Equipment Recovery Mission (TERM).29 At the same time, Paris withdrew the French High Command and French Expeditionary Corps. Politically, American officials advised Diem and helped train his administra­ tion. Economically, the United States replaced France as the leading exporter

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to South Vietnam and sent increasing amounts of economic aid. Culturally, the United States began building up both an official and unofficial presence in South Vietnam with organizations such as the United States Operatioas Mission (USOM), the United States Information Service (USIS), the United States Information Agency (USIA), and the Michigan State University Group (MSUG), to name a few. The Eisenhower administration's military displacement of the French grad­ ually took shape in the years following Geneva. The first area of conflict con­ cerned TRIM. Because the French High Command in South Vietnam would no longer exist, French forces would be placed under U.S. command.30 Dulles had allegedly indicated to the American ambassador in South Viet­ nam, G. Frederick Reinhardt, that the Americans wanted the French to re­ main involved at the highest levels.31 However, when speaking with Diem, Dulles apparently gave the impression that he had no opinion on the prob­ lem of French maintenance of military mlssioas, and that given the South Vietnamese attitude toward France and the hostility of the American mis­ sions toward the French ones, this comment represented clear encourage­ ment to let the French leave.32 According to French Ambassador Henri Hoppenot, “the Americans were taking over.” TRIM commander Lieutenant General Samuel T. Williams noti­ fied Paris that French officers who left TRIM would not be replaced until Franco-Vietnamese military negotiations had ended, and that thirty American officers would be included in French air training mission. The Americaas also ended funding for 600 ARVN officers who were still training at various French military schools.33 These actioas greatly diminished the French missioas of iastruction.34 Adding iasult to injury, Nguyen Huu Chau, delegate minister to the Council of the Vietnam Presidency, informed Hoppenot that South Vietnam would subordinate all three branches of the French mission under an American general. The coup de grace to the French presence came at the end of April when Williams notified the remaining French officers that due to the dissolution of the French High Command, French officers in TRIM would cease their functions as of 28 April 1956. TRIM’S reorganization left the French completely out of the loop. A Viet­ namese leader and a powerful American presence in the organization would henceforth exclude French input.35 Although the French were allowed to keep their air and naval training missions in TRIM, the two together only made up 4 percent of the Vietnamese forces and were subject to American authority. Washington did not want the two missioas to leave since MAAG ceiling limits prohibited the United States from replacing them, but Dulles stated that “it might be the lesser of two evils just to get the French out.”36 The Americaas evidently chase the lesser of two evils as Diem subse­ quently requested the withdrawal of French navy and air force training mis­ sioas. According to Durbrow, although the French departure would add to

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the MAAG burden and require “limited increased personnel,” he expected “no difficulty (ini assuming present French responsibilities” and believed the United States would achieve a “decided advantage having one doctrine and one set [of] standards.”37 American Ambassador to France Amory Houghton disagreed, noting that the French “are suspicious and alert for any move on our part to fill (the) gap caused by their departure. They will be quick to re­ act sharply and bitterly to such a development at this time, regarding it as ‘proof (of) US duplicity and intention (to) replace” the French in Indochina. Despite Houghton’s concerns, the Diem regime, with American approval, in­ sisted the French leave, and American advisors soon arrived to replace die departing French.311 The Americans also sought to replace the French in the EMS, which had always employed French and Vietnamese instructors. American officials sug­ gested to the South Vietnamese that they integrate the school into TRIM and move it to the Philippines so that the United States would have more direct control.39 The Vietnamese ignored this American initiative, but of the Viet­ namese to be trained abroad in 1955,729 were sent to France and 166 to the United States, whereas in 1956, 450 were sent to France and 881 to the United States. And Diem, in the summer of 1956, suspended training of all Vietnamese officers in Fiance. For the French, it was difficult to imagine that these initiatives did not have an American origin when at the same time Viet­ namese officers were being sent to the United States for training.40The Americaas iasisted that Diem’s decisioas were not a result of concerted action be­ tween Washington and Saigon.41 Another issue facing the French was the American determination to create a Temporary Equipment Recovery Mission (TERM) in South Vietnam, al­ legedly to retrieve American material given to the French during the First In­ dochina War. Immediately following the Geneva Conference, American offi­ cials had increased their training mission but feared bringing in too many Americans in violation of the Geneva Accords. TERM would provide a con­ venient pretext to place more American personnel in Vietnam, and TERM members began to arrive in 1956. In addition to “retrieving American mate­ rial,” TERM converted Vietnamese armed forces to the U.S. supply system, assisted in the establishment of a functional logistical organization, arranged for technicians, spare parts, and tools to be made available so equipment coukl be maintained, helped open the Saigon shipyard for the Vietnamese navy, and redistributed substantia! amounts of material turned over by the French to the Vietnamese.42 Thus, as the French were phased out militarily and politically, evidenced by the FEC’s withdrawal, the end of the French High Command, loss of standing in TRIM, diminishment of the EMS, and the TERM mission, the Americans quietly took control. The Eisenhower administration also intended to replace France economi­ cally. American officials advocated using foreign aid as a “major Cold Wat

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weapon,” and soon after Geneva, they determined the need tor rapid economic development in South Vietnam to ward off the communist threat, especially as French financial assistance, techniciaas, engineers, and coun­ selors disappeared.43 As a result, the International Cooperation Administra­ tion administered aid through three programs in order to suppon the Diem government and raise the standard of living. From 1955-1963 the Commer­ cial Import Program (CIP) provided almost $2 billion to South Vietnam to fi­ nance the importation of U.S. produced goods, including cars, tmcks, mo­ torcycles, scooters, typewriters, and clothing. The Food for Peace or PL 480 program provided surplus U.S. agricultural commodities in the same manner as the CIP. The Project Aid program was financed through USAID appropri­ ations and covered noncommercial economic and social enterprises under the nibric of nation building.44 As a result of these programs, by November 1955, the United States, not France, was the number one exporter to South Vietnam, and the preferential tariff for French companies ended on 1 March 1956. In January 1956 the pi­ aster was officially pegged to the dollar, the Americans founded thirty new companies, French exports diminished by more titan half, and 20,000 French bureaucrats headed back to the métropole.45 Although French influence had been drastically reduced, the Americans had not succeeded in filling the gap left by the French economic withdrawal Itecause of a continuing lack of pri­ vate American investment in Vietnam. U.S. businessmen remained reluctant to invest, fearing the uastable nature of the Diem regime and the possibility that the communist North would take over South Vietnam.46 Still, U.S. eco­ nomic aid from 1955-1960 averaged $220 million a year, or roughly 22 per­ cent of South Vietnam’s GNP.47 In addition to supplying economic aid, the Elsenhower administration also recognized the importance of establishing a cultural mission in South Viet­ nam. The French sought to maintain cultural influence in Vietnam through their educational institutions, foreign exchanges with the Vietnamese, aid programs, commercial trade, and French-language classes. The Americans worked to teach the Vietnamese what they considered more relevant tech­ nical training, American education, and the English language. Washington believed that increasing the numlier of U.S. cultural missions in Southeast Asia would help stem perceived Soviet successes in this area.48 Thus, after the Geneva Conference, the Elsenhower administration began building up official and unofficial agencies in South Vietnam. According to Henri Hoppenot, these American agencies had two primary cultural goals: teaching English everywhere while relegating French to second place, and forming technical personnel to fill the economic and social vacuum that was the legacy of the colonial era which had opened the way toward commu­ nism.49 For lx)th American and British officials, teaching English had become a Cold War tactic in order to bring Southeast Asia closer to the West. These

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officials argued that language had "gone beyond the cultural level to become almost a Cold War operational necessity.”50 Thus setting up language and cultural missions would help achieve the political goal of an independent noncommunist South Vietnam. On the official level, USOM, USIS, and US1A helped handle cultural affairs. USOM concentrated primarily on providing technical assistance. The Educa­ tion Division of USOM received a million dollars a month and employed sixty Americans who were divided into the fields of pedagogical studies, professional teaching, books and libraries, translations, constructions, and grants. Its Bureau of Pedagogical studies was oriented toward technical teaching in industry, electricity and radio navigation, and commerce. In pri­ mary and secondary teaching the major obstacle was a lack of English, re­ sulting in a $100,000 monthly budget for the libraries and books section of the Education Division.51 USIS Saigon, which was directly attached to the American Embassy, also had significant cultural activities, including an information, propaganda, and psychological warfare program for implementation by the South Vietnamese Ministry of Information. USIS officials intended to establish eighteen centers for dissemination of news and information throughout South Vietnam and cooperated with the South Vietnamese Ministry erf' Education in the produc­ tion erf anti-communist, pro-government textbooks for use by secondary school teachers. Press, publications, motion pictures, at to radio were all ve­ hicles for the anti-communist output of USIS Saigon. In early January 1955, exhibits began to expand with the recent assignment of an USIS exhibits of­ ficer, and an enlarged USIS English-teaching program had also begun.52 The cultural section of USIA promoted information and propaganda through a reading room, library borrowing, editing of brochures and peri­ odicals, conferences, films, records, and personal contacts. USIA had more than thirty agents. Expaasion and reorganization of USIA included a broad­ ening of activities to include a mass propaganda campaign. The 1955 budget for USIA was $1.3 million, a 66 percent increase over fiscal year 1954, and the request for fiscal year 1956 was $2.03 million.53 In addition to the official American presence, a number of semi-official and unofficial organizations existed. The American Friends of Vietnam Asso­ ciation (AFV) was formed in December 1955 in the United States to educate the American public on Vietnam and to rally support for Diem’s govern­ ment.54 The American-Vietnamese Association (AVA), another semi-official organization that was inaugurated on 23 July 1955, resided in Saigon to de­ velop cultural relations between the two countries. The AVA’s primary func­ tion, and the function of many other unofficial organizations, was to teach English. The AVA was the most important unofficial organization in Vietnam teaching English, with over 100 professors working to spread the English language. Numerous Presbyterian, Catholic, and Methodist missionaries also

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taught English in South Vietnam. The International Rescue Committee, As­ sociation of American Women, and the National Catholic Welfare Council (NCWC) all set up English-learning programs. In addition, many oiganizatioas provided grants, with the American Vietnamese Association providing 100 and the NCWC furnishing another 100 annual grants to Vietnamese stu­ dents who wanted to learn English. The MSUG was the most significant unofficial American oiganization in Vietnam, although it did have contacts with other American mlssioas as well as some CIA officials.55 Diem had invited Wesley Fishel to bring the Michigan State University Group (MSUG ) to South Vietnam, and MSUG officials often received preferential treatment.56 Embassy, USIS, and USOM officials all re­ sented the MSUG’s prominence at one point or another, leading to difficul­ ties in presenting a united American front to both the South Vietnamese and the French.57 U.S. officials recognized that official and unofficial American agencies operating in Vietnam had little, if any, accountability to each other.58 Still, the MSUG, along with the other official and unofficial American organizatioas in Vietnam, sought to fill the gaps left by die French Cultural Mission. One of the biggest Franco-American battles for cultural control in South Vietnam occurred over education, beginning with the U.S. success in replac­ ing the French Ecole Nationale d ’Administration (ENA) widi the U.S.-led Na­ tional Iasdtute of Administration (NIA). lastalled at Dalat, the ENA was cre­ ated in January 1953 to train administrative officials and was placed under a Vietnamese director assisted by a French couaselor. Courses were taught half in French, half in Vietnamese. The French were particularly annoyed liecause the advent of the NIA went agaiast the December 1954 FrancoAmerican accords, where the United States agreed that the French should have predominant control over die training of Vietnamese officials.59 Despite these agreements, the Decemlier accords were ignored as the ENA was officially dissolved and replaced by the NIA, as die MSUG brought in thirty-five instead of the contractual five professors, as chief advisor of the MSUG, Edward Weidner took control of the NIA even though the Viet­ namese were theoretically in charge, as English was given an equal standing with French, and as the center of research and documentation at the NIA was directed entirely by MSUG professors, who would be giving advice to die principal Vietnamese ministers in public functioas. In the end, the majority of chairs at the NIA were given to Americaas, the courses were taught in Eng­ lish, and die American professors ran the school.6" In addition, in November 1957, American officials inaugurated a new university at Hue and diree more were planned at Dalat, Nhatrang, and Canto that would lie heavily influ­ enced by the United States. Although American officials reassured die French that die United States had “no desire to take over,” and diat the MSUG “was not attempting to re­

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place French culture” or substitute the American administrative system for the French,” but was simply acting “on the request of the South Vietnamese," American actions did not quite correspond with these declarations.61 Early American successes in establishing the NIA, replacing French with English, and ensuring pro-American Vietnamese officials in the universities paved the way for further opportunities to imprint American culture and values on South Vietnam.62 Thus, by the late 1950s American nation building had al­ most eclipsed the French presence in South Vietnam.

AMERICAN NEOCOLONIALISM

H ie third factor leading to the U.S. commitment to South Vietnam is the na­ ture of the Eisenhower administration’s nation-building effort. Although American officials disdained the French colonial effort and mission civil­ isatrice os civilizing mission, they too attempted to create an artificial edifice by building, naming, and teaching. Following in French footsteps, American agencies did not laud indigenous cultural achievements or the Vietnamese language; rather, they tried to impose American standards, culture, and lan­ guage as they taught the Vietnamese about American institutions, history, consumer products, and democratic values.63 As the A m ericans replaced the French militarily, politically, economically, and culturally, they assumed what George Allen has referred to as the “de facto mantle of colonial ad­ ministration” in a country not yet capable of self-governance.64 In other words, American efforts in South Vietnam represented a not-so-new form of colonialism and cultural imperialism that grated on South Vietnamese pride.65 While American official and unofficial agencies proliferated, a number of small yet significant symbolic changes occurred, which highlighted the tran­ sition from the French to the American presence in South Vietnam and the increasingly neocolonialist behavior erf' the Americans. For example, Viet­ namese military dress went from French to American. The insignia were now modeled on the American pattern, and in the armed forces, tire helmet re­ placed the beret. Vietnamese money resembled American dollars, rue Catinat became known as Tu Do, or Freedom Street, and Lutece—a novelty store on the former rue Catinat—became “Chicago.” Since its official formation in October 1955, the new South Vietnamese government modeled itself after Washington. The ministers became secretaries, the Vietnamese constitution borrowed from the American one, and Diem, when he took office for Ills second term on 29 April 1961, modeled the ceremony after a U.S. presiden­ tial inauguration. Beginning in 1956, learning English became a major goal. Vietnam Press published an English edition, La Gazette tie Saigon became bilingual, and The Times o f Vietnam became popular. Increasingly, whether

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in official publications or in simple invitatioas, Anglo-Vietnamese bilingual­ ism replaced Franco-Vietnamese bilingualism.*6 These changes indicated an escalating American presence in all sectors of Vietnamese life. As American cultural activities increased, Operatioas Coordinating Board (OCB) officials recognized the dangers of a “too noticeable American pres­ ence in Vietnam.” They feared alienating the local population, suggesting that American personnel should be limited to the absolute minimum re­ quired for effective operations and made fully aware of the necessity for dis­ creet and circumspect personal behavior. One example of a too noticeable American presence was the effort to switch to the longer American working hours in public adminlstratioas.67 The measure fell through in the face of de­ termined resistance by all civil servants but remained in everyone’s mind as an American attempt to make its presence felt. American influence spread into all sectors of Vietnamese society. H ie American presence became very strong politically, exclusive in the military domain, predominant on the economic level, and increasing on the cultural level with the help of USÏS, USOM, and MSUG. While USIS focused prima­ rily on the press, radio, and cinema, and USOM only worked in the cultural domain and provided technical assistance, MSIIG acquired a number o f functions. When it had first arrived in 1955, the MSUG had planned to reor­ ganize the police services. But MSUG quickly moved into administrative re­ form and formation of functionaries, particularly tor the NIA. MSUG also cre­ ated libraries, reorganized the Ministry of National Education, and directed the instruction of 1,500 members of the Sûreté Nationale and 21,000 of the civil guard. MSUG put at South Vietnam’s disposition, with the help of USOM, arms, munitions, vehicles, and traasmission machinery. In addition, a number of American expeas worked with chiefs of service in different Viet­ namese administrations.68 Perhaps one MSUG professor summed up the American presence best when he stated “that where it Is proper for the French to fly a flag, it is equally so for the Americans.”69 Although MSUG members purported to systematically replace French colonialism with Amer­ ican nation building and modernization, they inadvertently imposed Ameri­ can cultural assumptioas and utilized colonial methods to achieve their goals.™ This imposition continued as American methods of work organization and the English language spread. A structured workday was implemented and brochures and films boasting of the advantages of productivity were distrib­ uted in the public services. The Times o f Vietnam went from a weekly to a daily, new iastitutes to teach English continued to open, and the VietnameseAmerican Association inaugurated a new building with twenty rooms where English was taught free of charge every day. The progress the English lan­ guage had made could be seen at the ninth annual Colombo Conference held in South Vietnam where English was decreed the official language.

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French Ambassador Jean Payait noted that “what was most noticeable about the American efforts to further their language, was the sort of crusading spirit” with which they acted.71 Nhu also felt the weight of the American presence. According to Nhu, by mid-1958, “the honeymoon with the Americans was over.”72 They were tol­ erated because they were rich and powerful and because South Vietnam had need of them. Other Vietnamese had also grown disillusioned with the American presence. Tran Van Do, former minister of foreign affairs, gave the following criticism of the Americans: “An Englishman who knows Vietnam and the Vietnamese well three years ago, when meeting a Vietnamese for the first time, would say 1 am not French. Today he says 1 am not American.” Ac­ cording to Payait, “many Vietnamese considered the Americaas rich and generous, but also clumsy people who could cause the Vietnamese people great unhappiness with the best intentions in the world.”73 At least some American officials recognized the dangers an increasing American presence could bring. General John O ’Daniel, former chief of MAAG and chairman of the AFV, visited South Vietnam in June 1958. Al­ though, according to O’Daniel, South Vietnam was beginning to move “with more speed in the right direction,” he also asserted that the U.S. ap­ proach had been “too regimented, and indifferent,” and suggested that the American approach should be that “of a member of a team, not merely as a teacher or coach of the team, since being too aloof and official makes Americans little different in approach from the French.” In addition, he rec­ ommended that “U.S. personnel should play down American participation in projects and try to make it appear that the ideas had come from the Viet­ namese themselves.”74 On 4 April 1959, Eisenhower called for more aid to Third World countries engaged in the battle against communism, and cited Vietnam as an example where progress and security there justified American aid. The numlier of projects the United States had undertaken during the 1954-1959 period was astounding. Americans helped build roads, bridges, airports, an auto route from Saigon to Bienho, a system of water adduction for Saigon, National Routes 21 and 19, navigable waterways, and a national railway system from Saigon to Dong Ha at the seventeenth parallel. They increased water pro­ duction in the countryside and towns, built up telecommunications, and de­ veloped electric eneigy, civil aviation, and food production. Americaas also increased harvests, livestock, fishing, and training for farmers. Washington had established a national college of agriculture, credits for agricultural pro­ duction, agricultural cooperatives, and rural development. Regarding educa­ tion, the United States implemented teaching programs, American school­ books, and English-language teaching. The Americaas also developed sanitary services, medical teaching, nursing, and disease control, not to men­ tion industry, coal mining at Nong-Son, and cement and sugar industries.

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Americaas organized industrial cooperatives—Vietnam Textile Co. and Viet­ nam Glass Cooperation—and created a public administration and a National lastitute of Statistics. U.S. efforts extended to university formation, ware­ houses, police, cinema, information centers, radio, and learning abroad for public service. Washington was also making efforts to bring American tourists to Vietnam by appointing a tourist director. Despite this massive nation-building effort, in I960 French Ambassador Roger Lalouette observed that five years of American experience in South Vietnam had not yielded great political results. The Americans had debarked in South Vietnam filled with “good will and assurance.” After five years, they were bitterly disappointed. Their effort to import “democracy made in Amer­ ica,” according to Lalouette, had not worked. In addition, Lalouette noted that the United States tended to operate on an ad hoc basis in South Vietnam and that apart from the highest-ranking American officials in Saigon, most Americaas were mediocre. He pointed out that MAAG, USOM, and USIS re­ ceived their orders directly from Washington, counterbalancing if not up­ staging the embassy, and that American agents working for the various agen­ cies differed in their interests, practices, and methods, leading to different policies and “confusion in overall American policy.” He concluded that these agencies tended to neglect “the political, psychological, and sociological aspects of South Vietnamese problems that North Vietnam was so good at exploiting.”75 In the end, despite significant American aid, no real stability existed. The United States did create a national army, equip the country, cul­ tivate the land, and aid Diem, but in Lalouetle’s words, “the American pres­ ence weighed too heavily on a newly emancipated country.”76 The United States had assumed a quasi-colonial position in South Vietnam. When examining the Eisenhower administration’s attempt to combat the communist menace in the Third World through nation building, its effort in South Vietnam must be deemed a failure. Diem’s success in manipulating the Eisenhower administration while distancing himself from American policies, Franco-American battles for control in military, political, economic, and cultural affairs, and an increasingly neocolonialist American presence were vital factors in increasing the American commitment to South Vietnam. But this commitment had not resulted in an independent nation. By 1961 American-South Vietnamese relations had become difficult as Diem contin­ ued to make progress on the international front, but refused to consider American suggestions for domestic problems. As a result, the Americaas became increasingly disillusioned with Diem and vice versa. In addition, convinced that the United States would succeed where France had failed, Washington’s determination to replace Paris created a full-fledged nation­ building effort. Americaas in Vietnam provided technical and military assis­ tance, trained administrators and ministers, disbursed economic aid, and taught English. Each additional function U.S. agencies undertook increased

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not only the American presence, but also the imposition erf U.S. culture and values in South Vietnam. Rather than focusing on the momentous American steps such as the 1964 Gulf of Tonkin Resolution, Operation Rolling Hiunder, and the sending erf ground troops, which dramatically increased American intervention in Viet­ nam in the 1960s, this paper has looked at a continuing process, die ground­ work so to speak, that began alter the Geneva Conference. Defining mo­ ments certainly existed, and presidents could have chosen differently during the 1960s. But 1 seek to draw attention to the fact that an entire bureaucracy was set in motion in the 1950s on the economic, political, military, and cul­ tural level, and that once set in motion such machinery proved difficult to stop. This paper has demonstrated that Diem’s maneuverings and the incre­ mental assumption of French duties by American oiganizations contributed decisively to the American presence. By the time John F. Kennedy was elected, the American nation-building effort in South Vietnam was securely in place, but the reality was that the United States had not fostered the de­ velopment of a nation, but a colony. To the extent that Americans had aided in the forging of a nation, it was on the other skie of the 17th parallel. Thus, the Eisenhower administration’s efforts to grapple with the forces of nation­ alism and decolonization in the Third World within the context of the Cokl War had a most unwelcome outcome in South Vietnam.

NOTES 1. For the purposes o f this paper, nation building in South Vietnam is defined as the American and South Vietnamese attempt to iHiild a viable self-governing eco­ nomically stable state tliat coukl defend itself militarily against North Vietnam. 2. My research findings tend to comrfxMate recent studies focusing on the ahilky o f Third World leaders to shape their ow n destinies, take advantage of Western lead­ ers to fulfill tlieir ow n domestic and foreign policy goals, and even to guide dipk>macy of greater powers. See for exam ple Tony Smith, “New Dottles for New Wine: A Pericentric Framework for the Study of the Cold War,” Diplomatic History, 24 (Fall 2000): 567-591 and Zachary Karaltell, Architects o f Intervention: The United Slates, the Third World, a n d the Cold War, 1946-1962 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State Uni­ versity Press, 1999), 226-227. This study also relies on alliance politics theory in that w eaker members in an alliance, in this case Diem, w ere alrfe to dictate U.S. foreign policy to a greater extent titan their size warranted. See, for exam ple, Roliert Keohane, “The Big Influence of Small Allies,” Foreign Policy 2 (Spring 1997): 161-182, Glenn Snyder, Alliance Politics, (Itltaca: G tm ell University Press, 1997), and Steplten Walt, The Origin o f Alliances (Itltaca: G tm ell University Press, 1987). 3. Following Diem’s appointm ent as prim e minister, the French, British, and Americans all thought of Diem as a very honest, rigid, and moral person Ixit one

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w ho was IKK very adept politically. As one American official put it, “the prevailing lielief (is that) Diem Is a political Dodo." American Ambassador to South V ietnam Donald Heath to D epartm ent o f State (DOS), 7 Novemlier 1954, Foreign R elations o f the U nited States 1952-54 13:2222. (H ereafter cited as FRUS with filing infor­ m ation). 4. In response to increasing governm ent repression, file Binh Xuyen, Cao Dai, and Hoa Hao seels had formed a “united front” against Diem in spring 1955 and ks, 1990), 211-225. For a firsthand accmint o f the sect crisis, see Rotiert Sliaplen, The Lost Revolution (New York: Harper & Row, 1965), 119-124. 5. French Ambassador to Saigon Jean Rayait to Ministère des Affaires Etrangères, no date, Ministère des Affaires Etrangères, Camlxxlge, Laos, Vietnam, Sud Vietnam, vol. 68 (Hereafter cited as MAE, CI.V, SV with filing information). 6. Bernard Fall report, February 1958, MAE, CLV, SV, vol. 68. 7. The Colomlx) Plan was an econom ic self-help oiganizatkMi o f the Common­ wealth members in Asia and the Pacific formed in 1950, which had grown to include practically every nation in tlte Far East as well as the United States and Canada. 8. Bernard Fall report, February 1958, MAE, CLV, SV, vol. 68. 9. Bernard Fall report, MAE, CLV, SV, vol. 68. 10. William Duiker, Sacred War: Nationalism a n d Revolution in a D ivided Nation (Boston: McGraw Hill, 1995), 109. 11. Stephenson to Lloyd, 1956 annual report, Public Record Office, FO 371/129701. (Hereafter cited as PRO with filing information). 12. Couaselor of Saigon Embassy G ardner Palmer to DOS, 29 Septemlier 1955, Na­ tional Archives and Records Administrafion, Record Group 59, DOS Central Files, In­ dochina, Internal and Foreign Affairs, 1955-1959, G0008, reel 40 (Hereafter cited as NARA, RG, with filing information). 13. According to Michael Adamson, die crucial factor in determ ining South Viet­ nam ese reform was ikk wliat American officials dkl IHit what Diem and his officials decided to do. Micliael Adamson, “D elusioas o f Development: The Elsenhower Administration and the Foreign Aid Program in Vietnam, 1955-1960,” Jo urnal o f Am erican-East Asian Relations 5 /2 (Summer 1996): 157-182. 14. Diem Address to the Republic o f Vietnam, 15 M ardi 1961, NARA, RG 84, Saigon Embassy Files, General Records, 1956-1963, Box 5, Internal Political Affairs, Eiectkins, 1959-1961. See Philip Catton, D iem ’s Final Failure: Prelude to A m erica’s War in Vietnam (Lawrence: University Press o f Kansas, 2002), 41-50 for an excellent in-depth analysis of Diem’s philosophy o f personalism. 15. Ambassador Frederick Nolting and other American officials fretted over die term “personalism ,” as tliey worried that Americans and South Vietnamese wtHild view it as a concept of political leadership implying dictatorship. Frederick Nolting to United States O peratioas Mlsskin (USOM) official Eugene Stanley, 8 July 1961, NARA, RG 84, Saigon Emliassy Files, General Records, Box 6, Chief Executive, 1959-1961.

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16. Payait to Minister, 31 August 1957, MAE, CLV, SV, vol. 68. See Seth Jacota, D iplomatie History 25 (Fall 2001): 589-624 for a critical appraisal of Dulles’s religious convictions and missionary zeal to spread Christian values to South Vietnam. 17. Note, 14 January 1958, MAE, CLV, SV, vol. 9. See Catton, 3, 23, for a cogent analysis o f conflicting U.S.-South Vietnamese views on nation building and modem* izing South Vietnam. Catton points out that Diem was hypersensitive of being viewed as a collaborator or stooge o f the United States. Taking issue with tradkkxial views o f Diem as a traditional mandarin, Catton notes that lie was a m odern nationalist, de­ term ined to push ahead with his ow n natk>n-lHiilding agenda, which in turn, created a major source of tenskxi in U.S.-South Vietnamese relations. 18. Durbrow to DOS, 5 December 1957, FRUS, 1 9 5 5 -1 9 5 7 1:882. 19. Bernard FaU report, February 1958, MAE, CLV, SV, vol. 68. 20. Laktuette to Murville, top secret, 31 March 1959, MAE, CLV, SV, vol. 131. 21. Lakxiette to MAE, 18 Novemlier I960, extremely urgent, MAE, CLV, SV, vol.

136. 22. MAAG was an American organizatkxi established in 1950 to administer U.S. military assistance and funds to tire French High Command. In 1954 MAAG began training the fledgling South Vietnamese Natkxial Army. In 1955, MAAG began dis­ tributing funds and assistance directly to die Soudi Vietnamese. 23. Durbrow Oral History Interview, Interview num lier 4, June 23, 1981, liy John T. Mason, Jr., Hoover Institutkxi Archives, Elbridge Durbrow Papers, Box 45, 230-237. See also Durbrow to DOS, 5 December 1957, FRUS, 1955-1957, 1:871. 24. David W. Malxxi, *1958-1960: Divided OHinseis Amid Growing Insurgency,” Remarks delivered at the SHAFR session on Vietnam, Georgetown, 26 June 1986, Hoover Institutkxi Archives, Leland Barrows Papers, Box 3-4. 25. Note, secret, 23 April I960, MAE, CLV, SV, vol. 10. 26. *Present and Future Political Situatkxi in South Vietnam,” Saigtxi Embassy to DOS, secret, 7 Decemlier I960, NARA, RG 59, General Records DOS, General Deci­ mal ßle, 1960-63, Box 1780 and memorandum fnxn Deputy Q xxdinator for Mutual Security R. B. Peterson to Director o f die Office of Southwest Pacific Affairs James D. Bell, secret, 9 January 1961, NARA, RG 59, General Records DOS, General Decimal File, 1960-1963, Box 1780. ' 27. Special report, possible actkxis to improve die situatkxi in Vietnam, secret, 15 June I960, Dwiglit D. Eisenhower Library, White House Office NSC Staff Papers, OCB Secretariat Series, Box 7, Southeast Asia NSC 6012 . (Italiener, ‘D ulles: Moralist as Pragmatist," in The Diplomats, 1939-1979, eds. Gordon A. Craig and Francis L. Loewenheim (Princeton, NJ: Prince­ ton University Press, 1994), 147. 46. Eisenhower, M andate fo r Change, 467. 47. Wellington V. K. K, Reminiscence, 76)5. 48. D epartm ent o f State Bulletin, 7 February 1955, 32:213. 49. Memo for tlte President, 21 January 1955, Subject Series, White I loose Central Files, Box 28, Eisenhower Papers. 50. Eisenliower was quoted as saying: “we cannot afford tlte kiss o f Chiang unless all o f us are to get completely out of lltat com er of the gktlte. This is unthinkable to us . . . tlterefore, we must not ktse Chiang's army and we must maintain its strength, efficiency and morale." In a letter to Churchill, Eisenhower wrote: "diplomatically it would indeed be a great relief to us if the line Itetwecn the Nationalists and Commu­ nists w ere actually tlte broad Straits of Fonnosa instead o f tlte narrow Straits Ibetween Quemoy and Matsu and tlie mainland.” See Jam es Hageity Diary, 6 February 1955, Hagerty Papers, Eisenliower Library. 51. Views o f tlie Department o f State on Q uestions Relating to China, in "Fokler: China, PRC,” 28 Felmiary 1955, Box 90, JFD Papers. 52. D epartm ent o f State Bulletin, No. 821, 21 March 1955, 17:459-460. 53. Memo of G m ference with tlie President, White House Memo Series, Box 3, JFD Papers. 54. Shu Guang Zhang, "Between ‘Paper’ and ‘Real Tigers': Mao’s View o f Nuclear W eapons,” in Cold War Statesmen Confront the Bomb, eels. John Lewis G addis, Phillip 11. Gordon, Ernest R. May, and Jonathan Rosenlierg, 194-199. 55. Zhongguo Shehui Kexueyuan, D anielai Zhongguo Hegongye I'll it? Nuclear In­ dustry in M odem Chinai (Beijing: Zhongguo Shehui Kexueyuan Chulxtashe, 1987), 64-65; John W. Lewis and Xue Litai, China B uilds the Bomb (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1988), 37. 56. Kenneth Lielierthal, A Research G uide to Cetitral Party a n d G otvm m ent Meet­ ings in China, 1949-1975 (New York: International Arts and Sciences Press, 1976), 67-70. 57. Xiaobing Li, D iplom acy Through M ilitancy In the Taiwan Straits, 41. 58. Thomas E. Stolper, China, Taiwan a n d the Offshore Islands, 75-76. 59. "Tlie Chinese People Cannot Be G tw ed by tlie Atomic Bomb,” 28 January 1955, in Mao Zedong, Selected Works o f Mao Zedong (Beijing: Foreign Languages Press, 1977), 5:152; “Speeches at the Natkmal G m ference o f tlie Gm tm unist Party o f China,” March 1955, in Ibid., 154. 60. George M. Kaliin, The Asian-African Conference: B andung, Indonesia, A pril 1955 (Ithaca, NY: G irnell University Press, 1956), 28-29; China a n d the A sian African Conference ( Beijing: Foreign Languages Press, 1955), 28. 61. Roliertson to Dulles, 25 April 1955, Intem atkm al Series, Box 9, Eisenhower Papers. 62. D epartm ent c f State Bulletin No. 825,18 April 1955,17:643-644. Also see Ibid., No. 828, 9 May 1955, 17:755. 63. Pei Monong, Zbou Entai Waijiao X ue [Zhou Enlai’s Diplomacy! (Beijing: Zhonggong Zhongyang Danxiao Publisher, 1997), 311-315.

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64. U Ping, Kaiguo Zongli Zbou Entai (Zhou Enlai: The First Premier o f the Peo­ ple's Republic o f Chinai (Ueijing: Zltonggong Zliongyang Dangxiao Publisher, 1994), 296- 306. 65. Pei Monong, Zbou E ntai W aijiao Xue, 316. 66. Richard Wright, Color C urtain: A Report on the B andung Conference (Cleve­ land, OH: World Publishing Co., 1956). 67. Chinese Ministry o f Foreign Affairs, M ao Zedong W aijiao W enxuan (Selected Diplomatic Papers o f Mao Zedong) (Zliongyang Wenxian Press, 1994), 249.

68. Ibid., 163-66. 69. Ibid., 376. 70. Ibid., 249. 71. Ibid., 173. 72. Rena Fonseca, "Nehru and tire Diplomacy o f Nonalignment,” in The Diplo­ mats, 1939-1979, ed. G ordon A. Craig and Francis L Loewenheim, 378-381. 73. Ibid., 384. 74. Progress Report on South Asia (NSC 5701), 24 July 1957, FRVS 1955-1957, Vol. 8:47. 75. Ibid. 76. Rena Foaseca, "Nehru and the Diplomacy o f Nonalignment,” 381. 77. Memorandum o f Conversations Iretw een Secretary o f State Dulles and Prime Minister Nerhu, 9 March 1956, FRVS 1955-1957, Vol 8:306-308; Telegram from die Secretary of State to die President, 11 Man’ll 1956, Ibid., 308-311. 78. Telegram from Secretary o f Stale to die State Department 12 Decemlier 1956, FRVS Vol 8:161-62. 79. Memo: Dulles to the President, 4 November 1957, FRVS Vol 8: 393-395. 80. Telegram from the Emlxissy in India to die State Departm ent, 7 Decemlier 1956, FRVS Vol 8:319-325. 81. Statement o f Policy on U.S. Policy tow ard East Asia, 10 January 1957, PROS Vol. 8:34-36. 82. Chen Jian, M ao's China a n d the C M War, 170. 83. People's Daily, 8 March 1958. 84. Division o f Foreign Relations Studies in die Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs, X in Zbongguo Waijiao Fengyun ITurixilent Experiences in New China’s Foreign Re­ lations] (Ueijing: Sliijie Zhlslii Chutiaaslie, 1990), 58-60. 85. Zliang Uaijia, "Die Changing International Scene,” 54. 86. Wu Lengxi, Yi Mao Z b u xi IReminiscing alxxil Chairman Maol (Ueijing: Xinhua Publisher, 1994), 74-75. 87. Mao Zedong waijiao wenxuan, Selected D iplom atic Papers o f M ao Zedong (Ueijing: Central Press o f Historical Dtx’uments, 1994), 357 88. Wang Uingnan, Zbongm ei H u ita n jiu n ia n H uigu (Ixxiking back on Ni.ie Years o f Sino-American Talks! (Ueijing: Shijie Zhlslii Chuhanshe, 1985), 69. 89. Chen Jian, Mao 's China a n d tbe C M War, 188-189. 90. IbRl., 29. 91. Shu Guang Zliang, "In die Sliadow o f Mao: ZIkhj Enlai and New China's Diplo­ macy,” in Tbe D iplomats 1939-1979, eds. Gordon A. Craig and Francis L. Loewen­ heim, 362. 92. Selected D iplomatic Papers o f Mao Zedong, 355-357. 93. Ibkl., 379.

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94. Ibid, 357, 381. 95. Ibid., 381; Wu Lengxi, Yi Mao Zbuxi, 74-75. 96. Dulles Address to Veterans oi' Foreign Wars, 19 August 1958, lk>x 127, JFD Pa­ pers. 97. Departm ent o f State, FPUS 1958 (W ashington, D.C.: Government Printing Of­ fice, 1959), 1144. 98. Ibid., 1146-47. 99. Michael Shaller, th e United States a n d China: Into the Twenty-First Century, 150. 100. RepuNic o f China, 27 August 1958, International Series, box 3, Eisenbatver Papers. 101. Congressional Record, 85th Cong., 2nd sess., 10-4:1844-1850. 102. H ie british in fact advised Washington to disengage itself from lire Taiwan Strait. The Japanese governm ent also expressed opposition to Dulles's statem ent linking the offshore islands with the defease o f Taiwan. NATO and SEATO leaders also concurred with tlteir opposition to any reckless American policy. See Dulles to Macmillan, 4 Septemlter 1958. International Series, box 10, Eisenhower Papers', “Dulles Address to tlte Far Eastern-American Council, 25 Septem lier 1958; and “Dulles Address Itefore NATO,” 27 Septemlier 1958, box 127, JFD Papers. For a m ore detailed and thorough analysis of tlte reactktas o f American allies, see G ordon Chang, Friends a n d Enemies: The United States, China a n d the Soviet Union, 1948-1972 (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1990), 185. 103. New York Times, 25 Septem ber 1958, contained in box 127, JFD Papers-, Dulles News Conference, 30 Septem ber 1958, box 127, JFD Papers. 104. Minutes o f Stale Departm ent Meeting, 20 O ctolter 1958, State Departm ent General Records, box 3926. 105. Dwight D. Eisenhower, Waging Peace (G arden City, NY: IXmbleday, 1963-65), 298-99. 106. Wu Lengxi, Yt M ao Z buxi, 90. 107. Selected Diplom atic Papers o f M ao Zedong, 359. 108. Mao Zedong, Jlangguoyilai M ao Zedong Wengao (The Writings of Mao Ze­ dong since the Founding of tlte PRCI, Vol 7:437—438. 109. Zhang Uaijia, “H ie Cltanging International Scene,” 57 110. Chen Jian, M ao’s China a n d the Cold War, 180. 111. Richard Im m ertm n, John Foster Dulles: Piety, Pragmatism, a n d P otter in U.S. Foreign Policy (W ilmington, DE: Scholarly Resources, 1999), 117.

Ill GLOBALIZATION CONTINUES: BAN D U N G , AFRICA, A N D LATIN AMERICA

7 Small Victory, Missed Chance: The Eisenhower Administration, the Bandung Conference, and the Turning of the Cold War Jason C. Parker

“[For] many Europeans,” observed a French journalist as the 1940s came to a close, “present-day nationalism Is nothing more than seventeenth-century feudalism. . . . Nationalism must be cruslied, just as feudalism was crushed when these same nations arose as national units.”1 Yet just as the European motherland of the nation-state began an epochal retreat from nationalism, that continent's imperial subjects abroad accelerated their march toward it. H ie post-W orld War II surge of “Third World” nationalism ended empires that dated hack to Vasco da Gama, and rendered atlases obsolete. Within a few years of the war’s end, and again roughly a decade later, new, indepen­ dent nations emerged across the global South. Many had been struggling against imperial rule since World War 1, or liefere; others nursed a long­ standing if sometimes vague nice consciousness to claim nationhood; still others cited forced, unjust economic relationships with the métropole to press their case. If spilled blood on the European continent led horrified sur­ vivors of the war to disdain nationalism, boiling blood in the Third World led its long-oppressed inhabitants to embrace it. Although Third World nationalism had begun to flower in most cases be­ tween the World Wars, it was only during the Cold War context that it grew to irresistible maturity. H ie superpower conflict between East and West of­ fered both jeopardy and opportunity to nationalist leaders in the Hiird World, most of whom instead perceived a pivotal moment in “North-South” relations.2 H ie concurrent hardening of the bipolar conflict and softening of the European empires meant that the anti-colonial struggle, and the embry­ onic nations to emerge from it, could be plotted along two definitional axes. 153

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The first was ipso facto oppositional: resistance to white supremacy and im­ perial rule, expressed as nationalism. The second, expressed as neutralism and eventually embraced by a significant number of newly emancipated na­ tions, reflected the desire for independence not only from European land­ lords but front the Cold War dichotomy as well. Neutralism as a geopolitical concept was not confined to the decolonizing world; as H. W. Brands describes, Tito’s break with Stalin osteasibly put Yu­ goslavia in that categoty as well.* However, neutralism held special sway in the emeiging nations. Its champions, above all Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehni, believed it to be a natural outgrowth of the freedom stniggle and a sound response to the Manichcan, nuclear Coki War world. Neutralism com­ plemented nationalism, underlining the importance of “independence” broadly conceived. It allowed savvy nationalists the possibility of playing the super­ powers off one another. Beyond this, it offered the possibility that those lead­ ers might rally around some other solidarity—regional, racial, or the neutralist cause itself—rather than mere strategic or ideological obeisance to West or East. Nehni, Indonesian President Sukarno, and fellow members of the Colombo Powers attempted to make this vision manifest by calling a historic meeting of Afro-Asian peoples at Bandung, Indonesia, in April 1955.4 Twenty-nine nations and soon-to-be nations attended. An all-star roster of Third World nationalists including Egypt’s Gamal Abdel Nasser, Vietnam’s Ho Chi Minh, and Kwame Nknimah of the Gold Coast (Ghana) made the trip. The Bandung Conference presented a challenge to both superpowers’ diplomacy, but especially to Washington. Its timing and its apparent mean­ ing made it a wild card, one the Eisenhower administration was not imme­ diately sure how to play. The conference coincided with a fresh crisis over Jinmen and Mazu and a deepening entanglement in Indochina. Moreover, Bandung took place midway through what Thomas Borstelmann labels a “sea-change in American and international race relations” spurred in the United States by the Brown v. Board o f Education decision and the Mont­ gomery bus boycott.5 In addition, beyond the problems Bandung could pose for U.S.-Third World relatioas, the conference complicated U.S. relations with both communist rivals and European allies. In the first iastance, com­ munist actors might move to take advantage of the new neutralist “vacuum” that Bandung announced—but any American actioas might well backfire, pushing neutralists and communists closer together. In the second case, Ban­ dung presented Washington with a geopolitical quandary. Holding the Cold War line agaiast communism depended on the cnimbling European empires. Yet U.S. support for that ancien régime was sure to earn the resentment of Third World nationalists fighting agaiast colonial rule. The Eastern Bloc, fac­ ing no such guilt by association, thus did not face the choice Bandung pre­ sented to the United States: side with the rising Third World tide, or side with the shaky imperial structures damming it in.

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Previous investigation of the Eisenhower administration's diplomacy re­ garding the Bandung meeting has been somewhat scarce, and tended to treat the conference in passing as a minor event best folded into latger nar­ ratives of 1950s foreign affairs.6 However, while Brands, Borstelmann, and company grasp the outlines and place of the conference in the broader tableau, the evidence then available could only take them so far. Newly available documents suggest a refinement of prevailing conclusions. This ev­ idence reveals an administration that paid sustained and evolving attention to Bandung and its implications both before and after the conclave itself. A "new look,” so to speak, at the meeting and its place in Eisenhower-era diplomacy thus offers new insights, and allows us to address questions raised but not answered by earlier scholarship. Assessing Eisenhower’s handling of the Bandung Conference begins with the matter of whether his administration simply missed the proverbial boat. Did Washington see Bandung as “a threat rather than a positive challenge,” as Brenda Plummer puts it?7 For a diplomatic team that placed a premium on vocally confronting communism, using allies and proxies where possible abroad, and waging “total” psychological Cold War, Bandung might have ap­ peared as either. The conference’s announcement of an embryonic Third W orld-neutralist bloc: presented a potential paradigm shift in international affairs. Moreover, the possible attendance of China raised a raft of possibili­ ties, most of them unappealing to U.S. policymakers. In their view, Bandung might provide China with the chance either to expand Asian communism, assert China’s status as regional power, or both; or, perhaps and more opti­ mistically, provide a forum for resolving regional tensions. Any save the last of the above constituted a difficult prospect. This set of mostly unappealing options may help to explain Washington’s seemingly timorous reaction to the conference that seems a missed chance to seek out Third World goodwill and begin to disengage from a European colonialism whose days were num­ bered. Finally, Bandung mast be integrated into the larger tableau of the Eisenhower administration’s internal contradictions, responses to contempo­ rary crises, initiatives in the decolonizing world, and response to the mid1950s “sea change.” Documents recently made available allow us to trace anew the adminis­ tration’s treatment of the Bandung Conference as a potent symbol of the in­ tensifying dynamics of neutralism, anti-colonialism, lliird World nationalism, and race in Cold War affairs. This paper does so, and argues that the admin­ istration saw the conference as a second-tier threat to American foreign policy objectives, a threat the administration understood and defused. In the aftermath, Bandung helped to spark a shift in the Elsenhower team’s diplo­ matic thinking. However, this paper also argues that the conference am ounted to a missed opportunity, becaase the administration failed to ap­ ply its biggest and longer-term lessons. Eisenhower’s team chose to “play it

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safe” leading up to and during Bandung, and smiled at their success. After­ ward, though, key officials recognized that the conference stood at the confluence of three trends—neutralism, nationalism, and racially tinged anti-colonialism—that were looming ever larger across the postwar land­ scape. These officials set out to grasp the implications of this confluence for American interests, hut this shift in their thinking failed to keep pace with the deep changes in the nature of the Cold War in the mid-1950s. The idea of an Afro-Asian conference had been incubating among the leaders of the Colombo Powers throughout 1954. In December, Nehru, Sukarno, and their colleagues gave it life, and announced it to the world. Such an event would further raise both leaders’ profiles on the global scene, and in so doing would address their particular “national” concerns as well. A conference would, for example, confirm Nehru’s position as the de facto leader of the neutralist-leaning Third World. It also would allow Sukarno to draw attention to, and perhaps sympathy for and even action on, the unre­ solved issue of West Irian. The organizers’ motivations, though, extended well beyond this. A meeting would also constitute a response to American alliance building, notably the establishment of the Southeast Asia Treaty Or­ ganization (SEATO) in September 1954. In a related manner, the idea sprang from the more or less ongoing Asian crisis, from Korea to Indochina, and the risk that the superpower conflict might reignite the continent. Finally, the an­ ticipated “second wave” of decolonization made it an opportune moment to convene former and future-former subjects of empire. Two days after receiving the December 29 message announcing the Ban­ dung meeting, Eisenhower’s State Department began its analysis of the con­ ference and American options for dealing with it. An Asia specialist at Foggy Bottom advised Secretary of State John Foster Dulles to take Bandung seri­ ously: “It is a vehicle of Communist propaganda.” Nor, in public relations terms, was such an ideological showcase the only problem. The specialist warned that the meeting could strike racial nerves as well, not least thanks to die contrast between the upcoming U.S.-sponsored “Bangkok Conference with mostly whites and a few Asian people, and [Bandung which] would be practically all colored.”8 The references to communism and nice highlight the contemporary con­ text of Bandung. The conflict in the straits lielween Chinese communists and Nationalists was at that moment heating up, and the chance of renewed crisis in a Far East so recently die site o f stalemate in Korea added weight to China’s regional role. Ho Chi Minh’s victory at Dien Bien Phu and the uneasy Indochina settlement at Geneva left the region teetering on the Cold War precipice. If China were to attend—or worse still, dominate—the proceed­ ings at Bandung, the conference might dp that balance agaiast American in­ terests. Beyond geopolitics, the allusion to the racial roster of the Bangkok and Bandung attendees hints at the growing recognition of the connection

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betw een American racial practices and diplomacy after the Brown v. Board o f Education decision eight months earlier.9 Dulles took his specialist’s advice, as he reported to the National Security Council on January 5, 1955. Should the meeting take place, Dulles warned, it would raise “interesting problems . . . lor the United States.” Although Nehru, Sukarno, and their fellow conveners had placed their concerns over the superpowers’ nuclear and strategic competition atop the prospective agenda, Dulles dismissed these and instead addressed the possible propa­ ganda implications of the Afro-Asian meeting. He was less worried than the Asia specialist at State about these: “The voice of the free work! should be able to blanket the voice of Communism at the Afro-Asian meeting.” Despite this, though, Dulles ended somewhat cryptically, saying that “there were still many unresolved problems” that Bandung would pose.10 The next week the administration’s Operations Coordinating Board (OCB) formed a Working Group on the Afro-Asian Conference to examine these “un­ resolved problems.” The group was “to concern itself with the development of courses of action to promote U.S. objectives” at Bangkok and Bandung. The State Department chaired the group, which included a half-dozen agencies in­ cluding Defease, the CIA, and the USIA. Ih e Group was charged with three re­ sponsibilities. First was the need to coordinate U.S. policies and actions re­ garding Bangkok and Bandung. Second was the preparation of “appropriate materials” for use at the conferences regarding “Soviet-Chinese aggression and imperialism . . . so as to place the Communist Bloc countries at the conference psychologically on the defensive.”11 Finally, the group was to establish chan­ nels, via allies who would be in attendance, to the conference itself. The cal­ endar was compressed; the group’s report was scheduled for discussion at an OCB meeting the next month. Complicating the shortened calendar further, most invitees to Bandung had expressed interest but few had as yet publicly articulated formal positions.12 As an early report put it, “A canvass of the (in­ vited) governments by U.S. Embassies reveals a general lack of enthusiasm for the conference.”13 Shaping U.S. policy for Bandung was thus an exercise, at this early stage, in sheer speculation against a ticking clock. Still, the group sketched Bandung’s likely shape. The stated purposes of the meeting, as outlined in the December 29 communiqué, offered a starting point: the conference did not seek to create a regional bloc; views expressed and resolutions passed would be advisory rather than binding; and eco­ nomic issues, self-determination, and nuclear concerns would top the agenda.14 From this and a brainstorm on Afro-Asian politics, the OCB pre­ dicted that “most states [would] use the Conference to further their private aims or for prestige purposes. . . . (Pakistan, for example], is enthusiastic about using the Conference to emharrass Nehru.” Japan would seek “to end its Isolation from the mainstream of Asian politics,” while the Philippines— having the least-pronounced agenda of its own—“(should) be encouraged to

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attend [in order to keep] the U.S. closely informed [and] to provide a friendly non-neutralist spokesm an.”1’ Two points about this stage of the U.S. response merit brief mention. First, the racial symbolism of Bandung received no direct reference by the work­ ing group. Washington’s “evolving awareness” of the relationship between the America’s racial record and its foreign policy was evolving only very slowly. Two, neither did the working group explicitly relate Bandung to the general challenge of anti-colonial nationalism. Despite the Colombo Powers’ reference to “racialism and colonialism,” and the plain meaning intended by their use of those terms, the American interpretation thus differed. The limi­ tations of the latter were rooted, as Michael Hunt observes in a broader analysis, at least partly in a long-standing American ideology.16 This frame­ work tended to minimize, or misapprehend, the racial, nationalist, and even cultural symbolism of events such as the prospective conference. Accord­ ingly, American officials tended to analyze the Afro-Asian meeting in terms of its Cold War realpolitik rather than as an intensifying, racially inflected challenge to a crumbling colonial order.17 Indeed, where the term “colonialism” appears, it does so as a weapon agaiast the Eastern Bloc rather than as a liability for the Western one. Tills was not wholly illogical, as shown by its simultaneous suggestion outside the working group. Former administration official C. D. Jackson passed the same advice to current official Nelson Rockefeller, crediting it to exiled Hungarian leader Ferenc Nagy. Nagy had just returned from Southeast Asia, where he had gotten wind of the conference. He suggested that the United States send exiled Eastern Europeans to Bandung to testify “regarding (lie new Soviet colonialism, which Asiaas and Africaas appear to forget in their pathological concern over the old and waning European colonialism. ”IHThe myopia Is perhaps iastmctive. At the initial stage of the American response, Jackson’s suggestion, like the working group’s charge to find ways to attack “SovietChinese imperialism,” ran the risk of misunderstanding—or inappropriately changing—a central subject of and impetus for Bandung. The appearance of a familiar specter led to a shift in die U.S. approach. In late January, the Office of Intelligence Research (OIR) took a fresh look at the original communiqué, and detected an ominous sign. China had shown little interest in the conference during its 1954 drawing board days. Despite Nehru’s mention of it during a trip to Beijing that Octolier, China made a “show of noninterference”; afterward, “no mention was made of possible Chinese Communist participation.” Tills, however, masked a deepening in­ terest behind the scenes. The OIR deduced that after the Geneva summit, China had decided to “pursue world recognition more actively . . . and con­ sider seriously opportunities outside Asia to play upon colonial problem s.”19 Bandung would offer a perfect such opportunity. The OIR anticipated that China would send, a delegation to the meeting, where it would seek “to turn

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conference emotions against the USMand to present subtly its own case as “leader and liberator of colonial peoples.”21* The OCB took these conclusions seriously; the possibility of China’s par­ ticipation changed the equation. Among other things, an active role by Bei­ jing brought the “anti-colonialism” theme into American focus—and turned it to communist advantage. As one OCB official put it: Present propaganda indicates that (lie main them e which will he puslied by tlie Communists will lie anti-colonialism. H ie Afro-Asian Conference, with Chinese Communist participation will Ithusl present the grimly amusing spectacle o f w orld communism holding itself up as tlie protagonist of local nationalist move­ m ents and anti-colonialism. Unless this plan is exposed and turned against them , the Communists will succeed in moving anotlier step tow ard their goal of w orld dom ination.21

American options, alas, were few. Since the United States was not invited to attend, Washington could only approach Bandung on a “moral and psy­ chological level (from which to) expose the Soviet colonial-imperial pattern which uses China as its agent in Asia.” The OCB sent its assessment to the US1A so that the agency could produce public relations ammunition that would “discredit the Conference and create an atmosphere that it is a Com­ munist propaganda maneuver.”22 Although initially uncertain “what use should be made of available mate­ rials on Soviet colonialism in connection with [Bandung],”23 OCB official Kenneth Landon reported on February 7 that the conference, and hence American strategy, was taking firmer shape. Issues likely to make the final Bandung agenda were culled from U.S. diplomatic pasts around the globe; these issues included nuclear arms and energy, colonialism, color discrimi­ nation, economic development, and Zhou Eniai’s five principles.24 These in­ dicated to OCB that the agenda would on the whole Iv purposefully “noncontroversial. . . so that it can be made to appear . . . that when Afro-Asian nations meet together without the ‘war-mongering’ Western democracies that peace prevails and aggression ends.”25 This, in turn, suggested several courses of American action. The methods for pursuing them were limited; Landon noted that the United States “will have to work through its friends, or (through) propaganda lor] public state­ ment.” One option was a public statement of goodwill, expressed at cabinet or presidential level; another was “saturation” anti-communist programs, to be run by USIA, in the media of “affected countries.” Still another was ad­ vance work with friendly Bandung attendees in order to create U.S. proxies, not to say provocateurs: “(This would) enable them . . . to unmask the (com­ munists’) real purposes (and) disturb (the) pseudo, peaceful, and unanimous atm osphere, . . . They should be prepared to raise questions regarding the new colonialism of communism.”26

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This blueprint guided the implementation of (J.S. moves regarding Ban­ dung up to the conference itself in mid-April 1955. In February, the SEATO Council, meeting in Bangkok, sent its greetings to Bandung. This was a re­ hearsal of the “transmitting” role that the friendly Asian states would play. SEATO’s statement asked Thailand, Pakistan, and the Philippines to impart “cordial greetings to the other 17 free countries” at Bandung, as well as a shared dedication to peace, equal rights, and self-determination.27 Speaking in generalities through SEATO had the added benefit of being a no-cost proposition. Any U.S. comment that included even anodyne phrases such as “economic progress”—a phrase OCB recommended, but not part of the Bangkok message—might be taken as a commitment neither the administra­ tion nor Congress was ready to make, especially as the two branches squared off over a U.S. economic assistance package for East and Southeast Asia. Image management of this sort—meant to project a sympathetic, non­ meddling, supportive yet resolute United States—posed other challenges as well. One was that despite predictioas of a delilxrately noncontroversial agenda at Bandung, either Nehru—or Zhou—might have other ideas. If pro­ voked, by Washington or by each other, either was capable of steering the meeting into rough waters. The timing was also potentially problematic. As winter 1955 came to an end, the Elsenhower administration delated whether that spring would prove to be a seized opportunity or a missed one regard­ ing U.S. relations with countries professing neutralism. UN Ambassador Henry CalxM Lodge assured a skeptical U.S. senator that the tide was turning in the United States’s favor: “There is no doubt that in the last two years the Soviet propaganda output has declined both in quantity and effectiveness . . . [and this] has registered even among the so-called Cold War neutrals.”28 Eisenhower was not so sure. At a meeting on April 7, 1955, the NSC dis­ cussed the twin rises of nationalism and neutralism, and what this meant for the United States in the Cold War: “The President . . . said that it was very alarming . . . how the Communists had managed to identify themselves and their purposes w id i. . . the widespread growth of [postwar] nationalism. The US, on other hand, had failed to utilize this new spirit of nationalism in its own interest. . . .The Communists seemed to be more successful in this area than we did.”29 On this point, a bit later in the meeting, the acting CIA direc­ tor reported on Bandung, stating that “a very odd assortment” of twenty-nine nations would attend, whose “nearest common denominator . . . was a re­ cent experience of Western imperialism.” While “it was very obvious that the Conference would present many opportunities for exploitation in Commu­ nist propaganda . . . the oudook for the West was perhaps not as pessimistic as it might seem.” This was thanks to the pro-Western Asian countries who would be in attendance. The OCB’s advance work “to counteract hostility to the U.S.” and the prospect of infighdng between Nehru and Zhou also

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hedged the danger. Still, “the President remarked facetiously that perhaps the best way for the U.S. to handle this matter was to give a few thousand dollars to each of the delegates. Indeed (again facetiously), the President added he would approve erf any methods up to but not including assassina­ tion erf the hostile delegates.” W hichever was correct—Lodge’s optimism that the communists had blown their chance, or Eisenhower’s pessimism that the United States had missed the “emergent nationalism” boat—and the president’s sarcasm with extrem e prejudice aside, his administration had made its choice. Bandung would bring together nationalism, neutralism, and communism; and the U.S. response would “stress an offensive rather than defensive approach.”30 Al­ though “the U.S. regards . . . Bandung as primarily the concern erf the partic­ ipating nations (wel obviously cannot remain indifferent (and are! taking ste p s. . . not only to prevent the Communists from exploiting the Conference to lour] detriment, but also to turn the Conference to the positive benefit of the free world.”31 An OCB memorandum of March 28 detailed what this meant in practice. The document recounts the efforts by OIR and the working group to distrib­ ute intelligence “on Communist intentions, and Ion) suggestioas for counter­ ing Communist designs.”32 These were sent to U.S. posts overseas, with instnictioas to confer with invitee governments, and to brief friendly attendees. Among the latter, “efforts will be made to exploit [the Bangkok message] through the Thai, Pakistani, and Philippine delegations.” Posts in Japan and Turkey would seek to do likewise. On the media front, the ad­ ministration briefed members of the American press; “(this] appeaifs) to have been instrumental in setting the public tone.” Arrangements had also been made for US1A coverage. In addition, the document refers to budding Anglo-American collaboration in the “Image Management” effort surround­ ing Bandung.33 Higher up in the administration, questions lingered. Would these backstage “offensive rather than defensive” maneuvers be too behind the scenes to succeed? Or would the use of Asian proxies be seen as American manipulation—and thus not invisible enough? What, if any, public state­ ment should Washington make to supplem ent its subtler efforts? In taking a stance that played offense discreetly, any high-level action required pmdence. W hether Eisenhower or Dulles ought to insert themselves into the carefully crafted diplom atic/public relations matrix became a matter of contention within the administration as the conference drew near. Rockefeller—an administration point man concerning foreign aid, colo­ nial, and Third World Issues—had urged “a Presidential speech before Ban­ dung” on these issues at the end of March. Dulles disagreed, on the grounds that the timing of such a speech was both crucial and impossible. It would have to be given at least a week before the conference not to be seen as

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American meddling, pure propaganda, or both. Moreover, the American po­ sition was still much in flux. There was not time, Dulles argued, to draft “a major Presidential speech (on) subjects which are highly controversial and which are at best difficult and delicate to deal with iandl which are not yet hilly resolved at the highest levels.”34 Dulles did, however, suggest that sev­ eral Issues Bandung touched on—“the U.S. position on colonialism, (and! the Far Eastern Aid Program”—might be usefully addressed in a less formal set­ ting, such as the weekly press conference “at which prepared questions would have to be planted.”3' Prepared answers would then be harvested. Rockefeller sent to Eisen­ hower’s office a sample of the Bandung “talking points.” These reiterated U.S. anti-colonialism and support for self-determination, and noted the “constmctive progress . . . being made toward the elimination of colonialism.” TTieir centerpiece, however, pointed out the irony of contemporary conver­ sation on the subject: “(Those today] seeking to extend a dominating control over other peoples in the time-worn pattern of colonialism are the Commu­ nist powers.”* This bit of rhetorical jujitsu, which Washington had been prac­ ticing for some time, was the central move in its approach to Bandung. If the methods were subtle—backroom consultations with friendly states, question planting in the press, casual presidential comments—the message was not: W estern colonialism was dying a natural death, while “Eastern” colonialism (i.e., communism) was on the march. Even this gave Dulles pause. Only a few days before Bandung began, he continued to wonder about the wisdom of high-level references to it. The sub­ ject of economic aid to Asia, in paiticular, raised for Dulles “grave doubts”: “A statement in general form will have people think we are going to have a mas­ sive Marshall Plan and they will get their hopes too high,” not to mention the repercussions in non-Asian countries which would feel slighted. Moreover, he felt that Rockefeller’s suggestions “do not say very much,” which was not in it­ self a problem—except that they missed a crucial, underlying point: “Colonial­ ism to the Asians means rule of whites over blacks.”37 This—the inevitable racial dimension of Bandung—presented a minor ob­ stacle to the U.S. image management strategy. Congressman Adam Clayton Powell embodied this complication when he traveled to Bandung in a kind of freelance diplomacy. Powell’s sponsorship lay with the publications Ebony and Jet, and he joined other African American correspondents on the scene. This, though, was not Ills first choice. Seizing on early news of the conference, Powell in January had called for a multiracial “all-America” team to represent the United States there.38 As his trip drew closer—and, indeed, throughout the year after it—Powell spoke on its importance to world affairs, and to U.S. success in waging the Cold War in the Third World. In policy and image management terms, Powell’s trip was an unknown variable. Powell wrote Elsenhower on April 6 to urge a presidential message

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of goodwill. Such a message would “be of tremendous strategic impor­ tance. As it happened, at virtually the same time, the Elsenhower admin­ istration had decided on a more muted approach, and left word to this effect for Powell at the Jakarta embassy.40 From Bandung itself, Powell relayed the “trem endous gratification on the part of Asian peoples” concerning possible U.S. economic aid, which if offered “without exacting commitments would be of trem endous value.”41 Powell also pointed out that his “presence there as an American Negro will do much to counteract any propaganda . . . concerning the United States and its minority problem.”42 The Eisenhower administration worried, given the unpredictable Powell, that his “presence” might cut the other way. One offi­ cial reflected later that upon learning of Powell’s trip, “of course we were dis­ turbed.”43 The temptation to demagoguery that Bandung would present, es­ pecially to someone seen as Powell was, stoked these fears; he might derail the subtle psychological and diplomatic offensive that the administration had planned. The congressman’s unsolicited advice before the conference was one thing; his unscripted role while there quite another, scarier one. Powell’s couasel did not noticeably affect the final decision regarding Washington’s remarks as the Bandung meeting opened. In the event, Eisen­ how er took Dulles’s advice, and addressed the opening of the conference in­ formally through his secretary of state during an April 17 press conference, in terms sufficiently anodyne to assuage Dulles’s concerns. In connection with the conflict over Jinmen and Mazu, the statement hailed the conference as a timely opportunity for the affirmation of peaceful rather than military so­ lutions to Asian crises. This, in turn, would undergird “social and economic advancement . . . responsible self-government, and durable national inde­ pendence” far beyond Asia to the rest of the colonial world.44 The Bandung Conference convened on April 18 and was scheduled to last one week. The meeting proceeded smoothly; its narrative course has been traced elsewhere.45 However, its snort- and long-term impact on the Elsen­ how er administration’s diplomatic thinking deserves closer attention. The conference itself produced few of the anti-Western fusillades U.S. officials had feared. Nehru’s “neutralist” bloc seemed to stall, the communists on the whole refrained from shrill propaganda, and Zhou Enlai kept a reserved, even conciliatory tone. Finally, the pro-Western countries played their parts according to the script. The final conference communiqué contained resolu­ tions that hardly rated even as nettlesome, let alone hostile, to the West. Washington’s immediate postconférence evaluation unpacked the four de­ velopments. Cautioning that everything depended on how the issues raised at Bandung were subsequently pursued, the OIR on April 27 drew some ini­ tial conclusions. First, Bandung demonstrated “that there Is an Asian-African consensus . . . strong enough to discourage Communists, neutralists, or anti­ com m unists from splitting it apart.” Yet, despite Nehru’s and Zhou’s attempt

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to seize the role, “no single regional leader emerged.” Some psychological hurdles had been cleared as well. The possibility of Afro-Asian partnership in pursuit of common goals, the self-confidence and solidarity of the proWestern Asian countries, and the end of “a lingering sense of inferiority” might all combine to produce a stronger and friendlier region, even one “more ready to cooperate with the West."46 Dulles had made some of these points in a press conference the previous day, but this was hardly the extent of the administration’s immediate postBandung analysis. As Dulles reported to the cabinet on April 29, the confer­ ence was more or less a windfall for American diplomacy. With minor reser­ vations, he said, its final communiqué “was a document which we ourselves could subscribe to land lie) listed about eight points of lit) which were con­ sistent with our own foreign policy.” Tliis consistency extended beyond the public American stance as well; Dulles said that “even [the Bandung docu­ ment’s] references to colonialism were in accord with what we feel in our hearts (though we are unable to say them publicly).”47 From the U.S. point of view, Dulles went on, Bandung was a windfall in other ways as well: “the Conference was a very severe reverse for Mr. Nehru . . . Chou (by contrast) achieved a certain personal success”—but did so only by maintaining a m easured tone, including the refusal “to defend the USSR . . . on ‘colonialism’ charges.” The Eisenhower administration had anxiously anticipated that Zhou would successfully paint the United States as imperialist and China as liberator in East Asia, “and thus gain a green light (for) violence in the Formosa area. Just the opposite occurred.” Tliis turn of events opened the way to a cease-fire in the Jinmcn-Mazu crisis, and even put the United States in a better negotiating position. Finally, Dulles reported that the American plan had worked: “the friendly Asian countries put on an amazing performance. ”4M This early evaluation sketched the outlines for further evaluation the next month and after. An analysis in early May echoed the conclusions regarding the friendly Asian states’ performance and the “self-esteem” the attending na­ tions derived front the conference. Perhaps most important, thanks to the pro-Anierican A>ian attendees, references to colonialism deplored both its Western incarnation a n d “die more recent evil of Communist colonialism.”49 It is difficult, from U.S. sources, to determine the success of this effort to shift “colonialism” onto communist shoulders. Archives abroad might well show neutralist skepticism, since die Asian proxies making this case were diemselves in the Western camp. Still, the tactic was key to the American strategy, and those in charge of that strategy proceeded on the conclusion that it had worked. A CIA memo dated May 11 elaborated on some additional “PostBandung Thoughts.” Expanding on points Dulles had made, the CIA added the recommendation that U.S. actions should now be designed to exploit the “psychological climate (the pro-West powers] created at Bandung,” not to

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cross them by “apparent intransigence on our part," and “to find a formula for restoring Nehru’s pride."*’ The closest American eyes to the action—the U.S. Embassy in Jakarta— echoed these assessments but also hinted at their larger implications. One of these was a lesson in what might be called Orientalist psychoanalysis. The conference swelled Asian self-esteem, and as a result, “Asia’s attitude in the future . . . may be somewhat less anti-western and less emotional." The sec­ ond was that “the free world scored a considerable substantive success, both positively and negatively.” That is, the insertion of pro-Western points and the dilution of communist ones were both Western victories. Third, Zhou’s “trem endous triumph” and the “failure of Nehru” were real; the latter “can­ not again speak with the same weight he claimed in the past.” Finally, sim­ ply, the U.S. plan had worked: “the careful planning and effective briefing of our friends (and] the skillful maneuvers of the pro-Western delegations” made Bandung a Western win.51 Indeed, in some respects, the episode seemed to validate some of the Eisenhower team’s basic Third World tactics: an emphasis on psychological operations, vague suggestions of possible economic aid, the use of proxies, and w hen feasible a light touch. Bandung repaid this approach in spades. Those aspects of the conference that the administration sought to orchestrate went as planned; and even those parts Washington could not control, such as Zhou’s conduct, redounded to U.S. advantage as well. However, in an­ other sense the episode was a missed opportunity. As the conference faded from view, some officials began to look at Us lessons in new ways. As a re­ sult, Bandung began—but left incomplete—a major shift in the administra­ tion’s diplomatic thinking. Evidence of this shift could be found in the administration's renewed in­ terest in the topic of neutralism. After Bandung, the Planning Coordination Group ordered a lull-scale study of the subject, and U.S. options for dealing with it.52 These, as Bandung seemed to show, were not all unpleasant. If the response could be orchestrated correctly, neutralism might not turn out to be as serious a Western liability as had once been feared. As Jackson put it, “Neutralism is a Soviet trump card but I doubt that it is the Ace of Spades.”53 The administration completed its study of neutralism over the summer of 1955. Its study proceeded by country, and concluded neutralism was more problem than opportunity, a problem that “has already assumed sizable pro­ portions and is likely to become more serious (over] time.”54 While much of the report focused on Europe, its analysis of neutralism elsewhere showed the influence of Bandung. That influence saw Afro-Asian neutralism as mix­ ing elements of collective psychology and power politics. The latter made neutralism a logical stance for militarily weaker nations, for whom negotia­ tion and compromise, avoidance of crisis, and a balance of superpowers— rather than dominance by either one—constituted the best ways to pursue

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their interests. At Bandung, Nasser had suggested a resolution decrying the “evil” of power politics. This did not signify that the conferees were blind to its imperatives; although neutralism seemed to transcend traditional power politics, it also offered a vehicle for sm all power politics in the Cold War context. The psychological aspect of Afro-Asian neutralism had different ramifica­ tions. In contrast to Europe, “Asian and African nations . . . feel that they are still. . . exploitable and that, despite their formal independence, they are not yet masters of their own destinies.” Moreover, “color consciousness” exerted a terrific gravity on Third World neutralism; “this seasitivity about race is one of the chief obstacles to sympathy with the West.” Indeed, “neutralism is widely justified on the ground that the racial intolerance of the Western pow­ ers is just as bad as anything that might be practised by the Communist bloc.” This, added to the conclusion that “questioas of nationalism and anticolo­ nialism are closely related to [Afro-Asian) neutralism,” made that phenome­ non somewhat more delicate in the Third Wodd than in Europe.55The strate­ gic stakes were high in both areas; the symbolic ones were arguably higher in the former. The report suggested that U.S. policy regarding neutralist states be partic­ ularized to each individual country, with emphasis on patience, working be­ hind the scenes, and “doing no harm.”56 Yet the 1955 study of neutralism— bom of Bandung and of Washington’s handling of same—did not mark the hill repercussions of Bandung on the Eisenhower administration. These tremors were concentrated in the fall of that year. The aggregate weight of these “lessons of Bandung” reoriented the Elsenhower administration’s diplomatic thinking—but not, in the end, its actions—on American relations with both the First and Third Worlds. There were two major “lessons of Bandung,” as the administration saw them: one, the global landscape was changing; and two, the new topogra­ phy represented an American opportunity. This did not owe solely to the conference; the previous year’s Geneva meeting, among other things, also contributed to the change. As Jackson put it, “thanks to Bandung and a few acts (by) major allies, it is now possible to talk [about] certain delicate sub­ jects, such as colonialism.”57 One official later recalled that “Eisenhower’s feeling was that the era of colonialism had passed and the best tiling the Western powers could do would lie to get out of there.”58 Eisenhower had from time to time gently pressed the European allies on this point even before ascending to the White House. In the months around Bandung, he re­ sumed his efforts with somewhat greater vigor, trying—ultimately fruitlessly —to “convince Winston Churchill that colonialism was ended."59 This Is not to say that Bandung had wrought a moment of American clar­ ity and resolution; far from it. As Jackson wrote in fall 1955, “the U.S. has def­ initely not sorted out its own thinking, torn between a) our instinctive anti­

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colonial feelings and b) playing ball with our colonial allies.. . . The combi­ nation has made our policy contradictory, confusing, and at times almost ir­ responsible.”60 This posed a problem in dealing with the Third World. At the UN, Jackson went on, "the ghost of colonialism . . . is in complete control of the thought processes of the Asians, Mideastemers, Africans, and Latin Amer­ icans—and with reverse English, of the Europeans.” If this was correct, the best policy would be for the United States to be vocally against colonialism, and simultaneously fo r orderly, gradual decolonization. Nor was Jackson alone in his assessment; as Powell told Dulles and Eisenhower in December, "colonialism and racialism must be eradicated as quickly as possible in our foreign policy. . . . The timetable for freedom was no longer within our control—Bandung had stepped it up, and we (had) to move fast.”61 Others, most importantly Dulles, were beginning to echo these conclu­ sions. Over dinner in Geneva in autumn 1955, Dulles and British Foreign Minister Harold Macmillan explored the idea of a "Bandung Conference in reverse.” The "reverse” meeting would be convened by the colonial powers and the United States, in order to promote orderly, pro-Western decoloniza­ tion. A joint effort along these lines "would catch the imagination of the world and take the initiative away from the Soviet Communists.”62 Dulles and Macmillan agreed to pursue this possibility; both did so, garnering research support from the Rockefeller Foundation and London’s Chatham House. Dulles continued to rally support within the Eisenhower administration, in­ cluding the enthusiasm of the president.63 As 1955 came to a close, this at­ tempt to construct an Anglo-American anti-Bandung was one means—along with others ranging from revision of the Anglo-American Caribbean Com­ mission to new consideration of Alaskan and Hawaiian statehood—by which the United States would put itself "on the right side of the anticolonial issue worldwide.”64 This, though, would require that to an extent Washington put itself on the wrong side of its European allies. Bandung had signaled that the ground had shifted, and the time was right for such a move; British officials such as An­ thony Eden quietly disagreed, and saw the implications of the American pro­ posal. Dean Rusk at the Rockefeller Foundation, honoring Dulles’s request, had in early 1956 formed a colonialism study group that by April "was ap­ proaching a crystallization of ideas.”63 But the British side could not claim the same. Rusk reported that there was little proof of progress on the other side of the Atlantic, and soon afterward the initiative came to a halt. As a result, the administration’s proposed "Bandung in reverse” became instead, so to speak, a "Bandung in park.” London’s torpor was a defease o f prerogative in response to the postBandung shifts in American thinking. A January 1956 Policy Planning Staff think piece put it starkly: "it is universally admitted that the colonial era is dead . . . yet in the current phase of the Cold War we (are] saddled, in the minds of

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millions, with (lie onus of colonialism.”66 The United Slates, the nrport con­ cluded, must accept that lilieration coukl allow communist forces to create geopolitical vacuums and thus guard against that contingency—but it must also show support for (he anti-colonial movement/'7 The president himself did the latter in April, stating in a speech to American journalists dial “Bandung . . . bears witness to Emerson’s vision” of shots heard round (lie world.6* By May the British had heard such shots too, not only from Bandung but also from Washington. The British recognized that the evolving U.S. stance might stoke Anglo-American tensioas, but judged (liât its intriasic ambiva­ lence would preclude any serious rift. H ie British Emhassy, for example, found the changes in American tone were a mixed bag. Certain anti-colonial voices in the U.S. press were growing notably more strident; but, (lie em­ bassy reported, “there is an increasing understanding (in the administration! of the true position of (the) colonies. Independence liefore a colony is ready for it is recognized as a danger.”69 Tliis, at any rate, was the middle ground on which London hoped the American shift would come to rest. British offi­ cials tracked the post-Bandung evolution of American thinking, but banked on the likelihood that hard geopolitical realities would keep it from damag­ ing Atlantic ties. This was not an unwise bet; for a solid year and more after Bandung, the American shift was found far more in rhetoric and reflection than in action. Members of the administration took a cue from Dulles and continued to seek ways short of a “Bandung in reverse” to concretize llieir emerging conclu­ sions. Ambassador Lodge must lie ranked as among the most energetic in tliis respect. A Febniary 1956 visit to Khartoum convinced liim that “an atti­ tude o f . . . superiority” and an inability “to play with the (‘natives’] and treat them as social equals” crippled American efforts to win Afro-Asian alle­ giances. Lodge therefore proposed what might lie called a Martini Offensive: “I suggest trips by high-ranking American officials . . . which, while brief, would yet be long enough to do a certain amount of sociable drinking, din­ ing, dancing, and laughing."70 Lodge’s UN experience showed him that deploying such a diplomatic Rat Pack would lie a significant but insufficient step. Of greater uigency, as he wrote the president in June, was the need for a “New Anti-Colonial State­ ment By You,” including deadlines for the traasition to self-mle in both American- and Kuropean-administered areas, to lie “followed up by a US spoasored resolution in the next General Assembly, which should appeal not only to the Latin Americans but to all the Bandung natioas wliich voted agaiast ‘colonialism in all its forms.’”71 Tliis would allow Washington to cap­ italize on rising anti-colonial sentiment abroad, to (he extent possible given geopolitical realities. As Jackson put it in July, “I think (lie US lielieves . . . that there is a worid anticolonial trend, so strong and so vital that colonial­ ism as we have known it is through.”72As Jackson wrote, working out the

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consequences of this trend for traditional European allies and emerging Third World ones alike was still a theoretical exercise—albeit just harely. Within a few weeks, events would render them concrete, when Nasser na­ tionalized the Suez Canal. The crisis, which climaxed in an Anglo-FrenchIsraeli intervention ultimately ended by American pressure, has been well dissected elsewhere. Its importance here resides in the way that its course had been previewed in the insights the administration had begun to glean from Bandung. To glean, that is, but not to act on—until Suez forced the is­ sue. If Bandung was a whisper of the changing international climate—that rising Third World anti-colonial assertiveness would force the First World into difficult choices regarding the Western alliance—Suez was a shout. The need to alter American policy in respoase to those choices was signaled by the conference but only enacted in the crisis. The Bandung Conference was the confluence of a number of important Cold War developments: the old specter of communism and the newer one erf neutralism; the energetic rise of anti-colonialism and Third World nation­ alism; and a waking coasciousness of profound changes in worldwide race relations. It thus offers an opportunity to probe the Eisenhower administra­ tion’s handling of these trends at a pivotal moment. Concerning the confer­ ence itself, that handling was at least a partial success, and arguably much more. The administration took the conference seriously from early on, enu­ merated its goals for the event, and sketched a strategy for achieving them. That strategy moved in step with the administration’s preferred diplomatic dance, using some of its main moves: working from behind the scenes via proxies, emphasizing psychological maneuver, and orchestrating low-cost, light-touch operations to advance U.S. interests. This strategy succeeded be­ yond expectation. Administration officials saluted their accomplishment—at worst a short-term, surface success, at best a harbinger of and model for things to come. However, in another sense, the administration’s handling of Bandung fell short. At a purely tactical level, it Is tme, Washington conducted effective diplomacy. At another, though, this was insufficiently ambitious. The challenges of neutralism and of Third World nationalism—and particularly, the dilemmas the latter posed to U.S. relations with its European-imperial allies—were visible at and after Bandung. The upper administration grasped these ramifications during the year after the conference, but did not go as far as it might have to capitalize on them. When Eisenhower, Dulles, Lodge, or Rockefeller, for example, realized to what extent Bandung had changed the international equation, and urged that the United Stales act accordingly, their efforts were stymied by a combination of British obstinacy, American hesita­ tion, and fear that the communists would exploit Third World instability. In this sense, Bandung was a missed opportunity. The meeting helped to prompt the American conclusion that European colonialism offered a false

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stability, that it was becoming more a Western liability than an asset. But the abstract conclusion did not produce concrete action. In hindsight a number of possibilities in the latter vein appear. Expanded overtures to key national­ ists and neutralists; more vocal support for die Bandung agenda in ways that played up U.S. sympathy lor the aspiratioas of Third World peoples; firmer iasistence that Britain and its imperial peers attempt a “Bandung in reverse,” rather than letting the idea die quietly—any of these would have been rea­ sonable ways to give life to Bandung’s lessoas. In fairness to the Eisenhower administration, none of these would have guaranteed success, and all carried risks that Washington refused to take, Urns, however, was the missed chance bom: the administration deduced after Bandung that the conference had opened the way tor an ultimately necessary break with European colonial­ ism, Ixit did not follow tills logic to its end—did not, in the end, act on it un­ til the proverbial moment of truth at Suez.

NOTES 1. Conte Rotiert de Vogue to Andre Laguerre, attaclied to Jackson to Laguerre, Jan­ uary 18, 1949, C. D. Jackson Papers ICDJPl, Uox 47, tbkler “cle Vogue, Conte & Contesse Roliert,” Dwight D. Eisenhower Lilirary, Abilene, KS (hereafter EL). 2. As Thomas Borstelmann reminds us in A partheid’s Reluctant Uncle: The United States a n d Southern Africa in the Early Cold War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), for most o f the Third World the postw ar issue was not die superpow er conflkt Ixit Western colonialism. Matt Connelly also argues for the im portance o f tlie “North-South” dim ensions o f the Cold War, in “Taking O ff the Cold War Lens: Visions o f North-South Conflict during the Algerian War for Independence,” Am erican His­ torical Review 105:3 (June 2000): 739-769. 3. See H. W. Brands, The Specter o f Neutralism.- The United States a n d the Emer­ gence o f the Third World, 1947-1960. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1989). Brands’s analysis and chronology o f Bandung provide a starting point for this essay; see Specter, 110-118. 4. The ColomlM) Powers w ere former colonies which had won independence: Burma, Ceylon, India, Indonesia, and Pakistan. See George McTurnan Kahin, The Asian-African Conference (Ithaca, NY: G irnell University Press, 1956), 2-3. O tlier contem porary works o f note on Bandung include Richard Wright, The Color C urtain (New York: World PuNishing, 1956); Carlos Romulo, The M eaning o f B andung (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1956); G. H. Jansen, Afro-Asia a n d Non-Alignm ent (London: Falier & Palier, 1966). 5. Dorstelmann, The Cold War a n d the Color Line: Am erican Race Relations in the Global A rena (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001), 93. 6. In addition to Brands and to Dorstelmann, other scholars w ho focus on U.S. diplom acy and race relations have incorporated Bandung into their analyses. See Penny Von Eschen, Race against Empire: B lack A m ericans a n d Anticolonialism , 1937-1957 (Ithaca, NY: G irnell University Press, 1997), 167-173; Brenda Gayle

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Plum m er, Rising Wind: Black A m ericans a n d U.S. Foreign Affairs, 1935-1960 (C hapel Hill: University o f N oith Carolina Press, 1996), 247-256; Paul G ordon Lau­ ren, Power a n d Prejudice: Tbe Politics a n d D iplom acy o f Racial D iscrim ination (B oulder, CO: Westview Press, 1988), 209. For an exception—a m ore recent analy­ sis that closely focuses on the conference and uses som e newly availaMe records— see Cary Fraser, “An American Dilemma: Race and Realpolitik in the American Re­ sponse to the Bandung Conference,” in Brenda Gayle Plummer, ed., W indow on Freedom: Race, Civil Rights, a n d Foreign Affairs, 1943-1988 (Chapel Hill: Univer­ sity o f North Carolina Press, 2003): 115-140. Also o f note, Nicholas Tarling has used British sources to exam ine the place o f the conference in London’s foreign policy: Tarling, ”‘Ah-Ah’: Britain and the Bandung Conference o f 1955," Jo u rn a l o f South­ east A sian Studies 23:1 (March 1992): 74-112. 7. Plummer, Rising W ind, 252. 8. Memorandum o f Telephone Call, Dulles and RoherLson, Decem lier 31, 1954, Telephone Calls Series, John Foster Dulles Papers 1951-1959 tyFDP), Box 3, f: “Tel. Conversatk>ns—General November 1-D ecem ber 31, 1954," EL 9. This aw areness liad begun before the Eisenhower administration, although events now gave it a critical mass it had previously lacked. See Mary Dudziak, Cold W ar Civil Rights- Race a n d tbe Im age o f Am erican Democracy (Princeton, NJ: Prince­ ton University Press, 2000), 90-114, on tlte Truman adm inistration's am icus curiae support o f cases leading up to the Brown decision. 10. Notes o f Discusskm, January 5, 1955, NSC Series, Dwight D. Eisenhower Pa­ pers as President 1952-1961 [Whitman File), Box 6, f: “230th Meeting o f NSC, January 5, 1955,” EL 11. Memorandum, Staats to OCB, January 11,1955, OCB Central File Series, White H ouse Office-NSC Staff Papers, 1948-1961 (WHONSC), Box 85, f: “OCB 092.3 llntematkxnal Affairs—Conferences & Boards) (9) January 1954-April 1955," EL 12. Report “Attachment A,” “Reactkms to the Afro-Asian Conference," OCB Staff, January 10, 1955, altaclied to Memorandum, Staats to OCB, January 11, 1955. 13. Report, untitled, OCB, January 12, 1955, Executive Secretary’s Suliject File Se­ ries, WHO-NSC, Box 58, f: “Indonesia (6),” EL 14. Report “Attachment B,” OCB Staff, n o date given, attadied to Memorandum, Staats to OCB, January 11, 1955. * 15. Report “Attachment A,” “Reactkms,” January 10, 1955. 16. Michael Hunt, “Conclusions: Tlie Decolonization Puzzle in US Polky: Promise versus Perform ance,” in David Ryan and Victor Pungong, eds., Tbe United States a n d D ecolonization: Power a n d Freedom (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2000): 207-229. This article builds on Hunt’s earlier work on the predecolonization era, U.S. Ideology a n d Am erican Foreign Policy (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1988). 17. Report “Attachment B," OCB Staff, no date given, attached to Memorandum, Staats to OCB, January 11, 1955. See also Fraser, “An American Dilemma.” 18. Jackson to Rockefeller, January 11, 1955, CDJP, Box 91, f: “N. Rockefeller,” EL Jackson urged Rockefeller to act: “I thought the idea had great cold w ar merit.” 19. Appendix to Intelligence Report 6797, Office o f Intelligence Research (OIR), January 20, 1955, OCB Central File Series, WHO-NSC, Box 85, f: “OCB 092.3 (9),” EL. 20. Intelligence Report 6797, OIR, January 20, 1955, OCB Central File Series, WHO-NSC, Box 85, f: “OCB 092.3 (9)," EL

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21. M emorandum, “Exposing liter Nature of the Afro-Asian (.Conference," McNair to OCU, January 21, 1955, (XCU Central Eile Series, WHO-NSC, Box 85, f: CX.B 092.3 (9) ,” EL 22. Ibid. 23. OCU 337 Minutes, OCB, January 31, 1955, CXCB Central File Series, WHO-NSC, box 85, f: “OCb 092.3 (9);" Memorandum, Landon to OCb, Feliruary 7, 1955, OCB Central File Series, WHO-NSC, box 85, f: “OCb 092.3 (10)," EL. 24. The “live principles o f peaceful coexistence,” derived from tlie Sino-Indian Agreement of 1954 that (am ong oilier things) formally recognized Tiliet as pan of China, w ere mutual respect for territorial integrity and sovereignty; mutual non­ aggression; mutual noninterference; an equal and mutually Ixneficial working relationship; and peaceful coexistence. Although ZIkhi Enlai could not claim sole aulliorship, most American rec«>rds credit him with “ow nership” of Ihe concept, to tlie exclusion o f others—such as Nehru, Krishna Merton, and Dag Hammarskjöld—w ho also prom oted tlie principles. 25. Memorandum, Landon to OCb, Fehmary 7, 1955. 26. Ibid. The proxies wtxild “expose tlie difference lietw een IZIkhi'sI w ords of ‘peaceful coexistence’ and die deeds o f aggresskm” and ctimmcni on nuclear arm s tests and on Formosa. 27. Dulles to Eisenhower Felxuary 26, 1955, Dulles-Herter Series, W hitman File, box 4, f: “Dulles February 1955 (1),” EL 28. Lodge to Knowland, March 15,1955, Administration Series, Whitman File, box 24, f: “Lodge, Henry Calx* 1955 (4),” EL 29. Minutes o f Discussion, NSC, April 7, 1955, NSC Series, Whitman File, box 6, f: “244th Meeting o f die NSC, April 7, 1955,” EL 30. Extract, OCb 337 Minutes, April 1, 1955; Attaclied to Memorandum, Staats to Villard, March 28, 1955, OCb Central File Series, WHO-NSC, box 85, I: “OCb 092.3 (10) ,” EL. 31. Memorandum, Staats to Villard, March 28, 1955, OCb Central File Series, WHO-NSC, box 85, f: “OCb 092.3 (10),” EL

32. Ibkl. 33. Ibid. 34. Memorandum, Dulles to Adams, March 31, 1955, White House M emoranda Se­ ries, JFDP, box 3, f: “White House Correspondence—G eneral 1955 (4)," EL 35. Ibid. 36. M emorandum, Rockefeller to Adams, April 6, 1955, OF 116-FF, White H ouse Central File (WHCF), box 592, f: “116-FF Asia-Africa Conference (bandung Confer­ ence),” EL 37. M emorandum o f Telephone Call, Dulles and Hagerty, April 11, 1955, Tele­ phone Calls G eneral Series, JFDP, box 10, f: “Tel. Calls—General March 7-A ugust 29, 1955 (3),” EL 38. Charles V. Hamilton, Adam Clayton Pouell, Jr.: The Political Biography o f a n Am erican D ilem m a (New York: Atheneum/M acmillan, 1991), 238-239. 39. Telegram, Powell to Eisenhower, April 6, 1955, OF 116-FF, WHCF, box 592, f: “Asia-Africa Conference,” EL. 40. Telegram, Morton to Powell c /o Jakarta, April 15, 1955, OF 116-FF, WHCF, box 592, f: “Asia-Africa Conference," EL.

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41. Telegram, Powell to Eisenhower, attached to Memorandum, Scott to Goodpaster, April 18,1955, OF 116-FF, WHCF, Box 592, f: “Asia-Africa Conference," EL 42. Telegram, Powell to Elsenhower, April 6, 1955 43. Oral History, Walter Robertson, OH-121 (#1), 128, Oral History Collection, EL. 44. Q uotes from Eisenhower-Dulles meeting, in Press Release, Dulles (via Hagerty), April 17, 1955, Dulles-Heiter Series, Whitman File, Box 5, f: “J.F. Dulles April 1955 CD," EL 45. See footnote 4 above. 46. Report, OIR No. 6903, "Results o f the Bandung Conference: A Preliminary Analysis,” April 27, 1955, attadied to Memorandum, Staats to OCB, May 12, 1955, OCB Central File Series, WHO-NSC, Box 86, f: "OCB 092.3 (file #2) (2) AprilNovem ber 1955," EL 47. Minutes, Cabinet Meeting, April 29, 1955, Cabinet Series, Whitman File, Box 5, f: "Cabinet Meeting o f April 29, 1955,” EL 48. Ibid. ' 49. Report, CA-7532, "Preliminary Evaluation o f Results o f Asian-African Confer­ ence,” May 2, 1955, attadied to Memorandum, Staats to OCB, May 12, 1955, OCB Central File Series, WHO-NSC, Box 86, f: “OCB 092.3 Ifile #2| (2)," EL. 50. M emorandum, "Post-Bandung Thoughts,” Bissell (CIA) to OCB, May 11, 1955, Planning Coordination G roup Series (PCG), WHO-NSC, Box 2, f: "Bandung (4)," EL. 51. M emorandum, Staats to OCB, May 12, 1955. 52. Memorandum, Rockefeller to Barixxir, May 26,1955, PCG, WHO-NSC, Box 2, f: "Bandung (4),” EL 53. Letter, Jackson to Luce, May 13, 1955, CDJP, Box 71, f: “Luce H/C, 1955 ,” EL. 54. Report, Murphy to Rockefeller, August 19, 1955, PCG, WllO-NSC, Box 2, f: "Bandung (1),” EL. 55. Ibid. 56. Ibid. 57. Letter, Jackson to Rockefeller, April 26, 1955, CDJP, Box 91, f: "N. Rockefeller,” EL. 58. Oral History, Andrew G txxlpaster, O il-477, 35, Oral History Collection, EL. 59. M emorandum of Conversation, Elsenlxiwer and Malcolm Muir, May 25, 1955, Diary Series, Whitman File, Box 5, f: “Whitman Diary May 1955 (2)," EL 60. Letter, Jackson to Jessup, O ctober 5, 1955, folder “Jessup, J.,” Box 63, CDJP, EL. 61. Letter, Powell to Eisenhower, Decemlx:r 8, 1955, Subject Series, WHCF [Confi­ dential File!, Box 70, f: “Departm ent o f State Noveml x;r-Deceml x?r 1955,” EL 62. M emorandum o f Conversation, Dulles and Macmillan, November 16, 1955; and M emorandum o f Conversation, Dulles and Lange, Octolx;r 27, 1955, Subject Se­ ries, JFDP, Box 7, f: "Policy o f Independence for Colonial Peoples,” EL. See Brands, Specter, 116-117. 63- M emorandum, Dulles to Hoover, November 23, 1955, White House Memo­ randa Series, Box 3, f: “White House Correspondence—General 1955 (1)”; and Mem­ orandum o f Telephone Conversation, Dulles and Rusk, November 21, 1955, Tele­ phone Calls Series, JFDP, Box 4, f: "Tel. Conversations—G eneral Septemlxfr 1-D ecem lier 30, 1955 (3)," EL.

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64. M emorandum, llan es to McCardle, Decemlrer 6, 1955, Special Assistants Chronological Series, JFDP, Uox 9, f: “Macomlrer—llan es Clmm. December 1955 (3>,” EL H ie quote s|xvifically refers to tlte AACC revision. 65. Memorandum of Conversation, Dulles and Rusk, April 6, 1956, Subject Series, JFDP, Uox 7, f: ‘'Policy of Independence for Cokmial Peoples," EL 66. Report, “U.S. Foreign Policy and tlie ProNcm o f Social-PolitR'al Change,” Pol­ icy Planning Staff (PPS), January 28, 1956, Record G roup IRGI 59 Lex Files—FI'S 1956, Uox 106, National Archives II, College Park, Ml) (hereafter NA). 67. Ibid. 6H. Speech, Eisenhower to Editors Society, Washington, D.C., April 21, 1956, RG 59 LtX Files—PPS 1956, Uox 106, NA. 69. Uritish Embassy-Washington to Foreign Office (FO), March 1956, FO 371 /12Û328, Public Record Office (PRO), Kew, England. 70. Memorandum, Lodge to Eisenhower, March 28, 1956, Dulles-1 letter Series, Whitman File, Uox 6, f: “John Foster Dulles March 1956," EL 71. M emorandum, Lodge to Eisenhower, June 26, 1956, General Corresponde nee and Memoranda Series, JFDP, Uox 2, f: “Strictly Confidential—L (2),” EL 72. Letter, Jackson to Heilperin, July 18, 1956, CDJP, Box 69, f: “Log 1956 (3),” EL

8 “A Torrent Overrunning Everything”: Africa and the Eisenhower Administration James H. Meriwether

In early 1957 Vice President Richard Nixon, at the urging of President Dwight Eisenhower and Secretary of State John Foster Dulles, prepared to visit die African continent lor an extended three-week journey. H ie most visible and vital stop on the trip was representing the United States at the independence celebrations in Ghana. Being the first country south of the Sahara to cast off colonial rule, Ghanaian independence held tremendous symbolic import lor Africans and people of African descent; it also held great meaning tor those locked in the Cold War struggle. Ghana seemingly held the potential to lead an entire slate of African nations into nonaligned status or, even worse to U.S. officials, into sympathetic alliance with the Soviet Union. Sending the vice president as a message of U.S. interest in and concern for this newly in­ dependent nation was a small thing to do in this larger war. The well-traveled Nixon returned to the United States championing greater attention to the emerging nations of the continent, and found himself shortly thereafter being billed as the “father” of a new African policy. And yet, even with independent Africa forcing the Elsenhower administration to revisit policies toward the continent, on the whole the administration tried to continue trooping along an already established “middle path” of policies that for all intents and purposes favored the colonial powers. Uncomfortable with the rapid changes being brought by African nationalism, and worried about the potential consequences for the struggle against communism, the Eisenhower administration generally tried to find stability through continu­ ing W estern influence. Indeed, in recollecting the era Elsenhower would write, “H ie determination of the peoples for self-rule, their own flag, and 175

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their own vole in the United Nations resembled a torrent overrunning everything in its path, including, frequently, the best interests of those concerned."' Elsenhower and his leading advisors felt most comfortable with the status quo even if, or perhaps more accurately especially if, that meant supporting white governments in Africa. The prejudices of Eisenhower and other offi­ cials left them thinking that Africaas could not govern themselves well, and these lurking preconceptioas combined with concerns alxxit communism’s potential spread to convince them that African desires for freedom coukl end up harming their own “best interests.” As the inevitable end of white rule be­ came more apparent, fears of iastability and chaos bred hopes that security might be found in the alternative of authoritarian governments led by those sympathetic to the West. Nixon, the top level official most interested in the continent, developed early on in Africa his penchant for “strongman" aile among Third World allies as a way to keep order amidst nationalist up­ heavals and to provide a bulwark agaiast communist advances.

FROM TRUMAN TO EISENHOWER

By the time Elsenhower took office, the United States had left behind its more explicit anti-colonial talk of the World War II years in favor of strong relatioas with its European allies and Cold War partners. If coasolidating a Western alliance agaiast the Soviets meant accepting that these colonial powers would stay in Africa, then that was a small price to be paid, espe­ cially given the thinking of officials in Washington who questioned the very ability of Africaas to govern themselves. Of course, the support for European allies had to be reconciled with the demands of Africaas for independence, and so during the Truman administration U.S. officials charted and followed what they alternately termed a “middle course,” a “middle position,” or a “middle-of-the-road position.”2 U.S. policy would seek to support its Euro­ pean allies while encouraging movement toward self-aile to satisfy African nationalists. Yet what these officials termed a “middle path” constituted little more than support for the ruling white power structure. Memlx;rs of the for­ eign policy establishment repeatedly warned against the dangers of “prema­ ture independence” and felt a need to preserve white rule for as long as pos­ sible. These officials preferred keeping the status quo while talking about, perhaps even mildly encouraging, an eventual transition to an independent Africa. Yet during Tniman’s last year in office the African National Congress launched its Defiance Campaign against Unjust Laws to protest apartheid in South Africa, and tensions between Land and Freedom Movement support­ ers, popularly known as Mau Mau, and white settlers escalated into outright

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w arfare in Kenya. These and other “hot spots” around the continent made Africa appear to he aflame with unrest. American officials felt compelled to launch a round of internal dehate over policy toward colonial areas. Discus­ sion focused not on priorities, for all agreed that keeping Africa allied with the “free world” stood paramount; rather, dehate hinged on how best to achieve the goal. The dominant argument contended that rapid decolonization would dam­ age the overall anti-communist effort, for quickly ending white rule would lead to weak, uastahle indigenous governments that would he susceptible to Soviet or Chinese control. Further, accepting arguments that colonial markets rem ained important for postwar European economic health, “Europeanlsts” argued that white rule in Africa remained necessary for economically strengthening Western European allies and enabling them to guard against communist gains. While recognizing that in the long run America’s strength and security depended upon friendly relations with areas that someday would gain independence, these officials insisted that immediate, even apocalyptic, concerns meant more. As Rklgway Knight, acting deputy di­ rector of the Office of Western European Affairs, put it, America’s “long-term interests will have little meaning unless they are reconciled with our imme­ diate security interests. There would he little value in throwing our support to dependent peoples with a view to developing worthwhile democratic friends in half a century, if, by so doing, we might seriously jeopardize pres­ ent American security and the continued survival of democracy itself.”3 Yet emphasizing support for European allies held the very real potential of creating counterproductive short- and long-term coasequences. Officials in­ volved with the UN or Third World areas countered that continued white su­ premacy drove Africans to communism as their only meaas for liberation. In addition, they asserted that undue support for colonial powers alienated hundreds of millioas of formerly colonized people in countries such as India. These peoples could become a “third force” whose manpower and resources might be denied to the West in its struggle agaiast communism, or worse might choose to ally with the Eastern Bloc. U.S. interests lay then in more strongly supporting majority rule. “’Premature independence’ obvi­ ously is as had as overdue autonomy,” argued the Office of Dependent Area Affairs and the Office of UN Political and Security Affairs. “And experience has shown that Communism thrives in delayed and repressive colonial pol­ icy as much as on premature independence movements. The United States should condone or encourage neither.”4 In truth, the apparent differences tended to be less than met the eye. While they debated the relative weight that should be accorded European interests, neither side aigued for substantive and material U.S. support for colonial lib­ eration movements. All largely believed that the United States would have to generally follow the “difficult middle course.” Assistant Secretary of State for

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European Affairs George Perkins summed up debate by declaring that while there existed differences of approach, “there is no disagreement on the ba­ sic proposition that both our long-term and our shon-tcnn interests require us to maintain the uncomfortable middle-of-the-road position.” In this con­ text, when forced to choose between contradictory options, the virulent im­ mediacy of Cold War anti-communist priorities held sway.s Thus, even amid the rising demands for change throughout the African continent, on the eve of Eisenhower’s election U.S. foreign policy stressed stable, white minority rule with verbal support for eventual black majority nile. Yet of course heavy-handed anti-communist arguments held little ap­ peal for African nationalists, who felt that Washington should support con­ cretely its rhetoric of freedom and democracy. The verbal gymnastics of the “middle course” created awkwardness and antagonism, and as Cold War strategic concerns continued to drive U.S. relations with Africa, those in Africa and elsewhere who opposed continuing white minority rule were left more angry and disillusioned. Little changed when Truman handed power over to Eisenhower and his administration. Henry Byroade, Eisenhower’s new assistant secretary of state for Near Eastern, South Asian, and African affairs, made clear that as the Eisenhower administration gained its footing it would maintain the em pha­ sis on preventing communism from spreading in Africa, and would do so by continuing support for European nile. Speaking in October 1953» Byroade offered the almost obligatory nod to agreeing that “old-style colonialism” was on tile way out, and that much blood and treasure might lie saved if the Western world hastened rather than hampered the evolution toward selfdetermination. Then lie went on to stress far more forcefully the threat o f “the new Soviet colonialism.” Declaring that “premature independence can be dangerous, retrogressive, and destructive,” Byroade defended slow evo­ lution toward independence over immediate change. Surveying reasons why “prem ature independence” served neither the interests of the West nor o f colonized peoples themselves, Byroade finally justified the continuing colo­ nial presence in Africa by declaring “serious observers of the African scene agree that the European governments are making substantial contributions to the evolution of these peoples.” For the Byroades of the world, the white man’s burden had not ended.6 Byroade, of course, reflected the views of the new president in Washing­ ton, a man who was not destined to be a strong leader in remedying racial inequalities in the United States or the world. Just as Eisenhower followed a “go slow” approach on civil rights in America, proclaiming support for a “moderate” stance until events in places like Little Rock forced him to take action, in Africa Elsenhower was most comfortable with the security of white minority nile, despite the obvious inequities that resulted. As historian Thomas Borstelmann argues, “Despite his administration’s emphasis on

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America’s proclaimed moral and spiritual superiority to communist nations like the Soviet Union, the president and his advisors failed to recognize ei­ ther the central moral Issue involved in racial inequality or the significance of race relations in the modern world.”7 Indeed, unable to overcome his own racial preconceptioas, Eisenhower failed to accept and adjust to the power­ ful tide that already was sweeping through Africa. Eisenhower was not alone in his lack of interest in the world's second largest continent and lack of concern about the racial inequities found at the very heart of colonialism. Facing pressing concerns elsewhere in the world and having limited interest in Africa, the National Security Council (NSC) had created no comprehensive policy toward Africa south of the Sahara during the Truman era, and it dkl not do so during Eisenhower’s first term. Various agencies and officials looked at Africa, but little coordinated effort was made. In 1953, for instance, the Psychological Strategy Board of the National Secu­ rity Council initiated an exploratory study in order to identify the problems erf sub-Saharan Africa and to define U.S. interests there. In the process erf writing the study its lead author was advised that the study ’’would be strengthened by a more straightforward statement on the actual U.S. policy vacuum that exists."** Yet there was little interest in creating policy when, in reality, the policy was to work through the colonial powers. In 1953 a National Intelligence Es­ timate (NIE), one of a continuing series of high-level reports created by the CIA, FBI, State Department, army, navy, air force, and Joint Chiefs of Staff, labeled the "chief problem” in Tropical Africa as the "increasing African dis­ content and demands for self-government.” Despite having to deal with the "problem” of people desiring majority rule and independence, the report re­ assuringly concluded, "The breakdown or overthrow of existing authority is now here imminent in Tropical Africa.” The authors believed that the colonial powers would make the "adjustments” necessary to prevent discontent from erupting into large-scale revolt for at least a decade, and probably the colo­ nial powers could hold out even longer. Faced with other world problems, these analysts clearly welcomed the illusion of stability in Africa through the maintenance of colonial authority.9 Even so, rising nationalism in Africa, indeed throughout much of the world, could not be ignored entirely, and nationalism’s potency raised concerns about the effects that it might have on the African continent and in the con­ tinuing Cold War. Further, during these early Elsenhower years any number erf events showed the intertwined nature of anti-communism and race, both at home and abroad. In the 1950s, even as anti-communism was used by some as a way to oppose racial change in America, an undercurrent of worry ran through Washington that American race relations were undermining U.S. efforts throughout the colonial world. Perhaps the most prominent manifes­ tation of this intertwining occurred in the Broum v. Board o f Education case.

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The amicus curiae brief filed by (lie Justice Department in December 1952 in­ voked global concerns when it declared: “H ie existence of discrimination agaiast minority groups in (lie United States has an adverse effect upon our relatioas with other countries. Racial discrimination furnishes grist for the Communist propaganda mills, and it raises doubts even among friendly natioas as to the inteasity of our devotion to the democratic faith.” In delibera­ tions over (lie case, Justice Stanley Reed, persuaded to concur at the last mo­ ment, was pressed to coasider the effects of segregation on America’s position in international affairs.10 Knowing that eventually the United States must deal with indigenous lead­ ers in Africa, and that American race relatioas created potential problems in doing so, the question for Washington became how to handle growing African aspiratioas for independence while maintaining the strongest possi­ ble worldwide front against communist advances. As the Supreme Court de­ liberated tlie Brown decision Nixon, the high official mast concerned about the continent, compelled the National Security Council's Policy Planning Staff to place Africa on its agenda.11 Tlx: struggles tor freedom at home and abroad were combining to make the Elsenhower administration deal with race to a degree that top officials neither anticipated nor entirely welcomed. At its meeting in early March 1954, the NSC Planning Board put off lengthy discussion until constituent officials created lists of what they saw as tlie most important U.S. interests in Africa. Special Assistant for National Security Affairs Robert Cutler, hoping to build more interest in creating a policy to­ ward Africa by not dividing the continent into geographic areas, asked Ills staff to identify the principal elements of concern for the United Stales throughout all of Africa. Three main interests were advanced: security of ac­ cess to actual and potential U.S. military bases; security of access to strategic raw materials; and “support of tlie colonial powers’ presence in the area and of their responsibility for the security, political and material progress of the African peoples, and the latters’ adherence to the free world.” While other agencies slightly altered the ordering of these interests—the State Depart­ ment ranked highest the issues of colonialism, nationalism, and the problem of “determining the proper rate of advance in the development of African territories towards democratic self-government”—by and large the lists found common ground.12 Sentiment for supporting the colonial powers’ continued presence, com­ bined with tlie difficulty in trying to create an encompassing policy for the vast continent, undermined momentum toward creating a comprehensive policy. Further, other problems around the world pressed for attention and claimed a higher priority. The various agencies involved appraised the situ­ ation in Africa and, in the end, decided tliat by continuing to support work­ ing with and through the colonial powers, nearly all policy questions could be put aside. The primary outstanding interest was protecting actual military

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assets, and to that end the NSC decided to create a policy paper only for North Africa—the one area in Africa where the United States had significant military interests. Not surprisingly, administration officials found that the “middle path” for­ m ulation of acceding to continued colonial rule hy anti-communist allies while verbally hacking eventual self-determination and majority nile by Africans never could be anything more than an ongoing precarious highwire act. Cultivating friendships with African nationalists and leaders of newly emeigent countries while essentially backing continued colonial rule over other people of color was exceedingly hard to carry off. By 1956 the NIE from just three years before had to be revised, reflecting the rapid changes occurring in Africa and a greater uigency about preparing for African independence. The new estimate predicted that Africaas “will make increasing demands for self-government,” that the result would be “an in­ creasingly rapid emergence of new African states,” and that “regardless of how political demands are handled,” throughout Tropical Africa interracial tensions almost certainly would increase. The report warned that during the conflict between the métropoles and those demanding self-rule, the United States would be “bombarded” from both sides with demands for diplomatic and moral support.13 Washington’s strategic assessments dearly indicated that there would be an ever-stronger demand to shift policy toward a more actively pro-African independence stance, and other international factors as well pointed toward reassessing African relations. U.S. officials finished the 1956 NIE in the midst of the Suez crisis, triggered when Egyptian leader Gamal Abdel Nasser na­ tionalized the Suez Canal. British, French, and Israeli willingness to respond independently of Washington on such a vital issue fostered U.S. officials’ dis­ position to chart a more independent course on questions concerning Lon­ don’s and Paris’s colonies in Africa. U.S. desires for more economic oppor­ tunities in Africa further reinforced departing from the traditional following of the colonial powers’ lead in Africa.14 Domestic race relations and political concerns added to the pressure to shift policy. H ie black freedom struggle continued to be a public relatioas nightmare for U.S. foreign relatioas, with first Montgomery’s bus boycotts and later Little Rock’s desegregation confrontation ravaging America’s image abroad. Nixon, the administration’s world traveler, reminded Eisenhower, “Every instance of racial prejudice in this country is blown up in such a man­ ner as to create a completely false impression of the attitudes and practices of the great majority of the American people. The result Is irreparable dam­ age to the cause of freedom which Is at stake.” Nixon recommended that “in the national interest, as well as for the moral Issues involved, we must sup­ port the necessary steps which will assure the orderly progress toward the elimination of discrimination in the United States.”15 Nixon might well have

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been making political calculatioas, too, for a growing number of African American voters were using a politician’s views on colonialism and decolo­ nization as a barometer for views on racial issues in America. Someone w ho did not support black majority rule in Africa faced a difficult task convincing Mack voters that he supported equal rights in America.14’ All of these various pressures pushed the Eisenhower administration to pay increased attention to Africa. The State Department, for example, in Sep­ tember 1956 created the new position of deputy assistant secretary of state for African affairs, and then in August 1958 finally established a separate Bureau of African Affairs with its own assistant secretary of state for African affairs. Yet perhaps the mast significant measure of symbolic and substantive change was sending Vice President Nixon to represent the United States at the independence celebrations of the new nation of Ghana.

N IXO N IN AFRICA

In early January 1957, with the British Parliament moving to formally grant independence to Ghana, Secretary of State John Foster Dulles telephoned Nixon to uige him to head the official U.S. delegation to the independence festivities. Nixon replied that it sounded like a good klea, yet at the same time he felt a certain reluctance to go due to media speculation that Nixon himself promoted Ills extensive overseas travels—and the Washington gos­ sip that the trips served no vital government purpose. Nixon wanted to be sure that traveling to Ghana clearly amounted to something, and that the president clearly wanted him to go. Dulles made sure that Elsenhower per­ sonally asked Nixon to make the uip, and noted himself that “Idhese events will be watched with great interest by lioth colonial and anti-colonial pow­ ers. They will undoubtedly command considerable attention in the United Nations. The import of what takes place in Accra next March should be clear to die whole world: here Is an instance where thanks to good will, patience, and perseverance on the part of bodi African and European, die political, economic, and social advancement of 4.5 million Africans lias been carried out peaceably and resolutely to the point where independence lias lieconie a reality.” With the white man’s burden successfully concluding in Ghana, Dulles recognized that other African nations would follow the events closely, and that accordingly “the emergent peoples of Africa will follow with partic­ ular attention the degree of interest and sympathy which the United States accords these developments.”17 Nixon turned his attendance at Ghana’s celebrations into a three-week tour dirough the northern half of Africa. Widi stops in Morocco, Ghana, Lilieria, Uganda, Sudan, Libya, and Tunisia, Nixon logged thousands of miles and met a variety of leaders. The trip left him championing increased atten-

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lion to Africa, with his report to Eisenhower detailing a series of recommen­ dations for U.S. policy. Nixon urged the Defense Department and the Inter­ national Cooperation Administration to give higher priority to their opera­ tions in Africa, and the State Department to improve die quality and quantity of U.S. representation. Along these lines, Nixon advised reviewing aid and information programs so that they achieved the maximum possible effec­ tiveness. Perhaps most importantly, Nixon urged planning for diplomatic re­ lations with the emerging African states.18 While perhaps more racially liberal than others in the administration, Nixon’s motivation for paying increased attention to Africa essentially grew out of his anti-communist fears. Throughout his African trip Nixon kept a di­ ary of notes in which he regularly jotted down his concerns about commu­ nism. Nixon worried that “Africa (is] a vacuum” where “any Soviet moves will have great impact.” Assessing the communist strength and potential for growth in each country and region that he visited, Nixon noted to himself that with emerging nations “their course * at present free—against Commies —but could change.” Nixon accordingly stressed in his report to Eisenhower that “the course of (Africa’s] development, as its people continue to emerge from a colonial status and assume the respoasibüities of independence and self-government could well prove to be the decisive factor in the conflict be­ tween forces of freedom and international communism.” In fact, the support the United States should give to newly independent countries could “alleviate the conditions of want and instability on which communism breeds.” Africa, changing from a stable region firmly aligned with the West to a continent un­ dergoing a potentially dramatic sea change, was a place toward which Nixon strongly believed the United States needed a comprehensive policy.19 Over the course of the ensuing weeks and months Nixon and others who felt similarly pushed for the creation erf a firm policy toward, as opposed to merely an assessment of, the continent. Any number of issues arose, from the seemingly (but not) minor question of which areas to include, to larger questions about whether to offer aid directly to new countries or to work through the colonial powers and/or the UN. As an NSC policy paper slowly took shape, foot dragging and worries over the extent of knowledge about the African situation threatened to grind progress to a halt. Still, in August 1957 discussion of the first NSC policy paper on Africa south of the Sahara, NSC 5719, came up for final debate. At the NSC meeting, Robert Cutler asked Nixon, “as the ’father’ of this new African policy,” if he had comments he would like to make. Nixon took the opportunity to qirestion just why the CIA still wanted to contract with the Center for International Studies (CENIS) at MIT to undertake a thirty-month study of Africa, finding it “rather useless” inasmuch as any study would un­ derline information the government already had in its hands. Nixon offered his opinion that if the CIA was just trying to funnel money to CENIS that was

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one thing, hut he tell that sometimes lie detected a tendency to avoid solv­ ing problems by ordering further studies, and that he was at a loss to know what developments could possibly occur in the next thirty months that would change the attitude of' Africans toward racism and colonialism. Deputy CIA Director Charles Cabell tried to deflect Nixon by offering his un­ derstanding that the study would provide additional information. Unde­ terred, Nixon agreed that more study was fine as long as it was not a way to delay determining specific policy actions in Africa.20 Nixon then went on to express his concern about the serious tendency to underestimate the communist threat in Africa, noting that it was not merely card-carrying communists about whom one had to worry. Dulles and Under Secretary of State Christian Herter also discussed this Issue, and Mener rec­ ommended that language be added to the paper to make clear that the po­ tential communist threat to Africa was greater than the actual threat, and was a matter of growing concern.21 With this change, the paper was adopted, and for the first time the United States had a comprehensive policy paper for Africa south of the Sahara. In the sease that the United States now had a new, comprehensive policy paper, this was an unprecedented development; on the other hand, Nixon had not fathered a new, meaning fundamentally altered, policy. Even as anti­ communism pushed policymakers to focus greater attention on African de­ colonization, these same fears of communist advances meant that adminis­ tration officials continued to see close alliances with European allies as trumping moral or ideological commitments to African freedom and inde­ pendence. Eisenhower, Nixon, and others believed that U.S. support could secure newly independent African natioas in the Western coastellation of states, yet they did not extend this logic and support to natioas still stniggling to obtain independence. There was, for example, no fundamental shift to backing independence for all African natioas. Nixon advocated devoting more attention to Africa, but that was a matter of emphasis not of traasformation. Immediate Cold War priorities and W estern-oriented perspectives meant the security of Western nile still beat out arguments that siding with African nationalist movements better served American interests by prom ot­ ing friendlier ties with Third World peoples. Thus, when in August 1957 when the National Security Council concluded its first paper on Africa south of the Sahara—five months after Nixon’s tour of Africa and the day after Cutler called Nixon the father of a new African policy—the attempt to follow the “middle path” still resonated. On the allimportant issue of nationalism or colonialism, the report declared, “Prema­ ture independence would be as harmful to our interests in Africa as would be a continuation of nineteenth-century colonialism, and we must tailor our policies to the capabilities and needs of each particular area as well as to our overall relations with the metropolitan power concerned.” The continuing

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rapid rush of events in Africa compelled the NSC to issue a new report within a year, yet aside from an increased emphasis on providing economic and technical assistance to emerging nations, the old middle-path framework rem ained.22

RACIAL VIEWS AND CRISIS POLITICS

With leading U.S. officials rooted in anti-communist doctrines, there existed little chance for fundamental policy change, even in the face of increasing nationalism and the imminent demise of colonialism throughout mast of Africa. The seeming safety of hacking colonial powers who were Cold War allies continued to outweigh alternatives, such as strongly supporting African independence, while bureaucratic inclinatioas and the absence of a strong lobbying structure for Africa in America further diminished the prospect of a fundamental shift occurring in U.S. policy. Even more, behind these factors lurked the enduring prejudices of America’s highest officials. These men, by and large believing Africans to be backward and inferior, generally remained convinced that Africans stood to benefit by re­ maining under colonial rule. In early I960, while discussing U.S. policy toward Africa south of the Sahara, Eisenhower brought up French President Charles de Gaulle’s recent observation that within two years there would be thirty inde­ pendent African nations. CIA Director Allen Dulles opined that none of the thirty would be capable of governing themselves, to which the president bluntly agreed, as long as (white-ruled) South Africa was excluded. As the conversation continued, Vice President Nixon interjected that the British anticipated many countries in Africa would develop “a South Ameri­ can pattem of dictatorship.” Nixon counseled that the United States must not assume that the struggle in Africa would be between Western-style democ­ racy and communism, and that while it could not be said publicly, the United States needed the strongmen of Africa on its side. Nixon, the purported fa­ ther of a new African policy, argued that it was naïve to hope that Africa would be democratic, so perhaps it was best to develop military strongmen to offset communist development of labor unions. Nixon clearly saw little chance for democracy to develop and flourish in Africa, opining that in his judgment some people in Africa had been out of the trees for only about fifty years. Director of the Bureau of the Budget Maurice Stans, recently returned from a trip to the Belgian Congo, chimed in that he believed many Africans “still belonged in the trees."23 The painfully obvious racial predispasitions among these, the highest of­ ficials in the land, rendered unlikely any substantial shift away from highly Eurocentric policies—except perhaps toward support of strongman rule. Notably, the prejudices of these officials typically were reinforced by reports

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from the field. Taking the case of Liberia, the one long-standing independent republic of sub-Saharan Africa, U.S. Ambassador Richard Jones made plain his belief that uthe average Liberian does not want to work.” The attitude per­ vaded the embassy, where another official, Jacob Crane, advised that “Liberi­ ans do not have good work habits” and that if the State Department turned over tunning the Port of Monrovia “in order to rid our government o f the burden,” then “the Liberians would not be able to run the project.” It is little wonder that most in Washington believed it better to avoid African rule.24 By die end of the Eisenhower administration, however, political crises diat at least temporarily brought Africa center stage put such views to the test. During the administration's last year the bubbling cauldrons of African na­ tionalism that officials long had preferred to push out of sight and keep con­ tained under lids of white minority nile boiled over in two highly strategic places: South Africa and the Congo. In neither place would Eisenhower and his subordinates unequivocally support African independence; to the con­ trary, support for South Africa’s white minority regime and for taking the most extreme measures to ensure a Western-friendly leadership in the Congo won out. The first crisis em pted in South Africa. Even as the government there had hammered home apartheid throughout the 1950s, the Eisenhower adminis­ tration had handled the regime with kid gloves. Even the relatively benign proposal by Mason Sears, U.S. representative to the UN Trusteeship Council, to integrate the American Embassy’s Fourth of July celebrations in South Africa met a cold reception. Sears, responding to the atmosphere of rising African nationalism, promoted this idea as “a very little thing to do (that] would have a very happy effect upon millioas of Africaas all over the conti­ nent.” The State Department’s Southern African Affairs desk came out strongly against Sears’s proposal as overly provocative, and the idea went nowhere.25 American officials wanted to keep South Africa as an anti-communist Ixistion and a reliable supplier of strategic minerals, even as the “disturbing course of race developments” in the country prompted the embassy in Pre­ toria to recommend that Washington take a more active concern in South Africa’s growing racial tensions. Yet while the embassy acknowledged the growing racial tensioas, its advice stemmed from fears for the strategic and economic interests of the United States, and die underlying doubts about black leadership. Despite the obviously undemocratic and oppressive nature o f South Africa, the emlxissy staff concluded, “It is in the interest of the United States that White leadership be preserved, or at least indefinitely pro­ longed, in South Africa.”26 Even so, the rapid emergence of independent African states, the rising Third World, and the East-West struggle for world opinion prodded the Eisenhower administration to at least appear less supportive of South Africa’s

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facial practices. In late 1998 the United States for the first time supported a UN resolution, albeit a weak one, criticizing South Africa’s racial policies. Al­ ways before, the United States either had opposed or abstained on all reso­ lutions critical of South Africa.27 Yet the government in South Africa ignored world opinion and continued to implement apartheid, in the process creating a police state that could more thoroughly control South African society. Imprisonment and banning orders circumscribed opposition leaders* activities and silenced their voices. Repression, however, proved a double-edged sword. While critics found themselves facing increasingly stringent government sanctions, the everharsher apartheid laws and diminishing avenues of protest generated rising frustration throughout the country’s black majority. On 21 March I960 tens of thousands of peaceful protestors took to the streets to rally against apartheid and especially the hated pass laws. The day turned violently bloody in Sharpeville, an African location thirty-five miles from Johannesburg. After several hours of demonstratioas there, with the crowd size and tension mounting, South African police nerves snapped. No order to shoot was heard and no warning shots were given before a line of police commenced firing into the crowd. As the demonstrators ran, the po­ lice shot dead 69 Africaas and wounded 186 more. Most victims were shot in the back as they fled.28 Upon hearing news of the massacre, the State Department quickly re­ leased a statement: “H ie United States deplores violence in all its forms and hopes that the African people of South Africa will be able to obtain redress for legitimate grievances by peaceful means. While the United Stales, as a matter of practice, does not normally comment on the internal affairs of gov­ ernments with which it enjoys normal relations, it cannot help but regret the tragic loss of life resulting from the measures taken against the demoastrators in South Africa.”2* The political fallout from this statement reveals the crossroads at which the United States stood, and the path the Eisenhower administration chase to fol­ low. On 24 March Henry Cabot Lodge, U.S. representative at the United Na­ tions, telephoned Secretary of State Christian Heiter to let him know that the Afro-Asian group had met that morning and voted to extend unanimous thanks to the United States for its statement about the killings. Lodge added that because he knew that Herter received so many gripes and complaints, this time Herter should be pleased with all the credit and good that had come out of the statement.30 Yet Herter was in no mood to feel pleased; indeed, he had spent that very morning trying to placate an angry President Eisenhower. Meeting at the White House, Herter disowned the statement, saying he had not seen it be­ fore it had been made to the press, that he regarded it as a breach of cour­ tesy betw een nations, and that he was furious about it. He explained that a

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bureau chief proposed a statement, and the press office released it without checking at the top policy level. Eisenhower grumbled that “the fat was in tin; fire," and decided that now in secret they would have to call in the South African amhassador to tell him dial although recent events distressed the United States, it regretted liaving made a public statement. Eisenhower added that if it were his decision, lie would find another past for the bureau chief involved.3' While Heiler feared the United States might “be accused of inciting a rev­ olution" widi its statement, lop officiais in Washington felt most concerned about damaging a tight rcladonship with the white South African regime. Even in the face of horrific actions taken against one’s own people, the situ­ ation in South Africa was to lie viewed in Cold War terms. Yet given the ex­ ceptionally strong world opinion, domestic opinion, and the fact that the So­ viets certainly would try to use the situation to further their influence in Africa, the United States coukl not afford to lie seen as on die side of the South African government. Lodge therefore was instntcted to try to exercise leadership at the Security Council in order to secure a resolution that might express displeasure—regretting the lass of life, deploring the use of vio­ lence, requesting the South African government to expedite an inquiry into the "riots,” urging the South Africans to reconsider their policies—but to pre­ vent any sort of continuing machinery or investigative body that might drive South Africa from the UN or its strong support for the anti-communist West.32 As the Security Council took up die matter, Elsenhower regularly commu­ nicated with Lodge and fierier alxxit keeping any final resolution condem n­ ing South Africa as mild as possible. For a president relatively unconcerned with Africa, Eisenhower maintained an unusually active interest in the diplo­ matic aftermath of the massacre. Eisenhower could not help but believe that the situations in the United States and South Africa were not all that different, and that the South Africans had the right to say that they wanted to make progress any way they wanted to. In this, Eisenhower’s thinking on black freedom struggles abroad was not all that different from his views about civil rights at home. In the end, the resolution passed by the Security Council, with Ameri­ can affirmation, blam ed the South African governm ent for the shootings and called upon it "to initiate measures aimed at bringing about racial har­ mony based on equality.” H eiter characterized the resolution as “surpris­ ingly mild”; Eisenhower viewed it as "mighty tough.”33 W hen Lodge as­ sessed how the entire episode had played out at the UN, he scored it a gain for U.S. relations with African and Asian delegations, and a victory in that the Soviets w ere unable to secure the role of cham pions of Africans or even induce Africans to insist on an "extreme resolution” calling for sanctions. O f course, to underscore the adm inistration’s position after Sharpeville, State Department officials assured the South African Embassy

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that it had no intention of recalling the American ambassador or of boy­ cotting South Africa in any way.34 The neverending questions about how to address political, economic, and racial tensions in Africa in the context of the continuing Cold War confronted the Eisenhower administration again three months later when the newly in­ dependent Congo fell apan. More than a half century of Belgian efforts to prevent any body politic from forming in the Congo had made the formation of a stable regime extremely problematic in the run-up to independence. In fact, into the late 1950s, as other nations were moving toward independence, few observers believed that Belgium would be leaving the Congo anytime soon. When Clarence Randall, chair of the U.S. Council on Foreign Economic Policy, arrived in Leopoldville in early 1958, U.S. Consul General James Green told him that “Belgium Is in the Congo to stay.” Green felt that while the Belgians deliberately slowed political development, on the social front there was an entirely different story. “There is no real color barrier locally,” Green reported, “and the race question is advancing fairly well.” For proof, Green observed that “all white athletic teams play all black athletic teams, usually without any difficulty.”35 Apparently having all-black athletic teams afforded the opportunity to play all-white teams was not enough for the Congolese after seventy-five years of rule by King Leopold and the Belgiaas, and during the next two years the political situation changed dramatically. Amid escalating protests, in early I960 the Belgian government agreed to an independence date of 30 June I960 for the Congo. In preparation for self-rule, the country held par­ liamentary elections in May I960. Patrice Lumumba's Mouvement National Congolais (MNC) and its allies won 40 of the 137 seats, leaving the MNC well short of a ruling majority but far ahead of the plethora of other parties, none of which won more than 13 seats.36 Yet sympathy for the position the Con­ golese found themselves in due to historic Belgian policies would not be found in the Oval Office. When CIA Director Allen Dulles reported that the Belgiaas’ “frantic efforts” to form a viable government had been handi­ capped by the existence of over eighty Congolese political parties, Eisen­ hower quipped that he did not know so many people in the Congo could read.37 After much maneuvering, shortly before independence Lumumba became prime minister by putting together a coalition of twelve parties. His rival Joseph Kasavuhu assumed the more ceremonial position of president. While the Belgiaas had hesitated to support Kasavuhu because of his history of na­ tionalist agitation, they worried more and more about what they perceived to be Lumumba’s increasing radicalization. On independence day Western concerns about Lumumba heightened. Upon hearing the Belgiaas congratu­ late themselves on their reign, Lumumba scathingly denounced Belgian rule. “[Ours] was a noble and just struggle, an indispeasable struggle to put an end

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to the humiliating bondage imposed on us by force. Our lot was a painful eighty years of colonial nile; our wounds are still too fresh and painful to be driven from our memory.” Lumumba hammered home his theme by recounting, in the presence of Belgian King Badouin, those wounds and hu­ miliations. Ralph Bunche, representing the UN at the celebrations, described the speech as “a hard, anti-colonial, we are free now statement” that left Bel­ gian officials shocked, some with tears in their eyes.3** The Congo’s shaky political situation started to fall apart a few days after independence, when members of the Force Publique, the old colonial army, m utinied at a base ninety miles outside Leopoldville. Soldier dissat­ isfaction spilled over after the Belgian commander General Emile Janssens announced that there would be no change in the soldiers’ rank or pay as a result of independence. Lumumba calmed the soldiers by promising all o f them a promotion of one full rank and the Africanization of the officer corps, but unrest already had spread to Leopoldville. Belgian refugees flee­ ing into the capital told wild stories of rapes and shootings, triggering panic and European flight. The sight of roaming Congolese soldiers, no longer under the command of Belgian officers, heightened white fears. The British and French embassies ordered the evacuation of all nonessential person­ nel; masses of European civilians fled across the Congo River to Brazza­ ville. Essential services and economic activity collapsed as the Europeans decamped, the bitter fniit of the Belgian policy of excluding Congolese from all but the lower echelons of work. U.S. Ambassador Clare Timberlake, fearing that Belgian intervention would create antagonism that played into Soviet hands, uiged the Congolese leaders to request UN assistance. Washington believed this maneuver could restore order under a UN umbrella, without using U.S. troops. The Elsen­ hower administration certainly did not want the Congo, and particularly its mineral rich province of Katanga, to be under communist control, and warn­ ings that the communists viewed the Congo as a fertile field increasingly ap­ peared to be coming true. Indeed, when days after independence Katanga seceded and the UN did not quickly restore it to Congolese nile, there grew a bitter rift between Lumumba and UN Secretary-General Dag Ham­ marskjöld, one that soon resulted in Lumumba issuing urgent appeals to the Soviets for aid. In August, the arrival of Soviet equipment sent shock waves through a Washington that still was feeling the effects of the bitter chill in American-Soviet relations that came after the downing of the U-2 spy plane and the collapse of the May summit between Elsenhower and Nikita Khmshchev. Lumumba quickly became the focus of attention in Washington where, as they witnessed another charismatic leftist leader appealing to Moscow, offi­ cials increasingly worried that they faced a repetition of the recent experi­ ence in Cuba. That an African leader such as Lumumba would turn to the So­

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viets with little advance warning now seemed quite plausible, and Lu­ mumba’s mercurial shifts convinced more and more that he operated under Soviet guidance. CIA Director Dulles started ominously referring to Lu­ mumba as “a Castro, or worse.”59 Lumumba seemed to be increasingly de­ pendent on communist advisors and aid, and U.S. efforts to use the UN to preem pt communist influence appeared to be failing. By August the Joint Chiefs of Staff had concluded, and the NSC had concurred, that “the United States must be prepared at any time to take appropriate military action as necessary to prevent or defeat Soviet military intervention in the Congo. Mul­ tilateral action would be preferable but unilateral action may be necessary.”40 Given this decidedly unpleasant prospect of U.S. troops going into com­ bat in Africa, U.S. officials determinedly searched to find a way not only to keep the UN in the Congo, but also to remove Lumumba from leadership. In September the CIA advanced the process of trying to permanently eliminate Lumumba by sending poison for an assassination attempt.41 Yet even as Washington moved closer to killing Lumumba, other possibilities also loomed. In early September Congolese President Kasavubu drove to the Leopoldville radio station to announce that he was dismissing the prime min­ ister, triggering a power struggle between the two men that continued until CIA officers succeeded in swinging Army Chief of Staff Joseph Mobutu over to Kasavubu’s side. Taking power in a Moodless coup, Mobutu informed U.S. Embassy officials that he would arrest Lumumba and work to traasfer power by the end of October to a coalition government headed by Kasavubu. Mobutu discovered however that he was unable to arrest Lu­ mumba, who stayed in his house under UN protection. The best Mobutu could do was station a cordon of soldiers around the UN contingent, thereby restricting Lumumba’s access to Leopoldville and the nation.42 The continuing crisis generated intease debate at the fall I960 General As­ sembly meetings, where the Elsenhower administration faced the fact that over a dozen new African nations had joined the world body. The rapidly changing makeup of the UN was fraught with potential problems for the West. Yet while administration officials understood the need to work with the African delegations, Eisenhower for his part had little interest in grinning and bearing the courtship of all these delegations. Reluctantly he went to New York to address the UN General Assembly and meet with various heads of state; back in Washington, he was pressed to meet with even more African diplomats. At a cabinet meeting in early October the new ambassador to the UN James Wadsworth told Eisenhower that the entire U.S. delegation felt strongly that the president needed to meet the representatives of the new African countries. It was a case of face and prestige for them, Wadsworth ex­ plained, and doing so would help our relations with these natioas. Elsen­ how er made it clear that having a lunch or dinner for each delegation would take entirely too much of his time, but that if the whole group came at one

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time he could manage a lunch. Wadsworth assured Eisenhower that lunch was not even necessary, that most of these Africans did not even speak En­ glish, and that all they needed was to come to the White House and shake hands. It was “just a matter of going through the motion so that they will have met the President of the United States.” Consultation was not the issue, merely some grip and grin to steer these independent nations toward tlie West. A reception for the following week was arranged, in which the African delegates were ushered into the Oval Office and, before anyone sat down, welcomed and invited to move into the garden for coffee and orange juice and conversation. The president then was able to swiftly make the rounds, chat briefly, and excuse himself.'3 The wooing of African delegations was important for the Congo crisis, for the United States very much wanted to keep Lumumba away from power, and some African leaders such as Kwame Nkmmah not only were actively promoting an African solution to the crisis, but also appeared to support Lu­ mumba as the legitimately elected leader of the nation. Teasions about the UN mission swirled through the fall, and came to a head over the issue o f whether to seat the Lumumba or the Kasavuhu delegation to the world body. In late November, intease lobbying by the Elsenhower administration suc­ ceeded in producing a majority vote by the General Assembly to seat the Kasavubu delegation.44 This vote apparently convinced Lumumba that the UN no longer would protect him, despite assurances otherwise, so a few nights later Lumumba slipped out of his house in Leopoldville and headed toward Stanleyville, his base of power. Lumumba hoped to stump the coun­ tryside and raise popular support to sweep him back into power as the undisputed leader of the Congo. But after four days of frantic searching Mobutu’s soldiers captured him.43 Six weeks later, on 17 January 1961, Kasavubu and Mobutu delivered Lumumba to Molse Tshombe in the seces­ sionist Katanga, ostensibly to prevent any future escape. That night and the following morning Katanga soldiers and their Belgian handlers tortured and then m urdered Lumumba and his two companions.46 Just hours before Eisenhower left office, then, this seemingly leftist threat to U.S. interests was removed from the vast and vital Congo state. And while it appears that the Eisenhower administration itself did not kill Lumumba, the result unmistakably fell in line with Wasliington’s desires. Certainly the ad­ ministration had worked hard to remove Lumumba, and in ensuing months and years the United States continued to work actively to establish a proWestern regime in the Congo. Ultimately, a staunchly pro-Western govern­ ment arrived in the form of a second coup by Mobutu during Lyndon John­ son’s administration. It would be during the Nixon presidency, however, that Mobutu would be turned into one of Africa’s strongman dictators. Nixon, who had pondered the need for developing strongmen to rule in Africa in the 1950s, carried through on his formula a decade later in the ex-

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écution of his Nixon Doctrine. Speaking at the start of a trip to Asia in July 1969, Nixon enunciated his resolve for the United States to keep its treaty commitments, and as well to provide a shield for allied nations or ones whose survival America considered vital hut which found their freedom threatened by a nuclear power. At the same time, in cases involving non­ nuclear aggression, the United States would “look to the nation directly threatened to assume the primary respoasibility of providing the manpower for defense.”47 While initially conceived primarily as a way to retrench U.S. commitments in Asia, in short time this policy evolved into a reliance on re­ gional surrogate powers, such as Iran in the Middle East and the Congo in central Africa. Invariably ruled by authoritarian regimes, these Westernfriendly powers provided strong anti-communist allies, but at a heavy price. In the Congo, the people suffered through over a quarter century of Mobutu’s devastating kieptocratic rule. The willingness of Nixon not just to abide but to promote such an author­ itarian regime was rooted in views and attitudes from well before his presi­ dency. Nixon and Elsenhower, grounded in Western perspectives and anti­ communist doctrines, came into office in 1953 believing dial continued white minority rule in Africa provided a secure harbor in the stormy Cold War. As African nationalism became a force with which the administration had to reckon, Cold War concerns pushed Eisenhower and his aides to seek continuing stability, even at the expense of democratic alternatives. As colo­ nial governments fell, supporting the white regimes that remained or back­ ing shifts to strongman rule seemed acceptable alternatives to the absence of "civilizing” European rule and the potential of communist advances. Such beliefs and attitudes shaped the approach to Africa and decolonization dur­ ing the critical years of African liberation, and while they generally kept Africa securely in the Western constellation through the end of the Elsen­ how er administration, some of the more important consequences and lega­ cies would take decades to unfold. NOTES 1. Dwight D. Elsenhower, Waging Peace, 1956-1961 (G arden City, NY: DouMeday & Company, Inc., 1965), 572. 2. D raft M emorandum Prepared in Office o f D ependent Area Affairs in Combi­ nation with the Office o f UN Political and Security Affairs, 8 May 1952, Foreign Relations o f tb e U nited States (hereafter FRUS\, 1952-54, 3: 1111-1115, “m iddle course” quote on 1114; H ickerson (Assistant Secretary o f State for UN Affairs) to M atthews (D eputy U nder Secretary o f State), 13 May 1952, ibid., 1116-17 for “mid­ dle position”; Perkins (Assistant Secretary o f State for European Affairs) to M atthews, 4 June 1952, ibid., 1118 for “m iddle-of-the-road position.” H istorians Thom as N oer and Thom as lloistelm ann have exam ined the evolution o f U.S.

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efforts to follow a “m iddle path,” taking as a prim e exem plar the need to carve (Hit policy tow ard S ruary 1954, 824.062/2-2454, RG 59, Central Files, NA. See also Milton Eisenltower, Ib e W ine Is Bitter, 194. 61. Foreign Minister to Bolivian Embassy in W ashington, 5 September 1953, Em hajada Boliviana en W ashington 1952-1956, 264, ARE. 62. W hitehead, United States a n d Bolivia, Appendix 2, 28. 63. Foreign Ministry in Bolivia to the Bolivian Emlvassy in tlte United States, 2 Decem lter 1952, Em bajada Bolivian en Washington, 1952-1956, 31, ARE. 64. George Jackson Eder, Inflation a n d Developtnent in Latin Am erica—A Case History oj' Inflation a n d Stabilization in Bolivia (Ann Arixtr: Graduate ScIkx >I o f Business Administration, University o f Michigan, 1968), 60; Thomas Mann to Ray­ m ond G. Leddy, 17 Septemlx* 1954, RG 59, Holland Papers, Lot File (hereafter Loti 57D295, Box 3, Country File Guatemala, NA. 65. W hitehead, United States a n d Bolivia, 29-33; ECLA, “Tlte Economic Policy o f Bolivia in 1952-64,” Econom ic Bulletin fo r Latin Am erica 12 (O ctober 1967), 80-81; Lois Deicke Martin, “Bolivia in 1956—An Analysis o f Political and Economic Events,” in Ronald Hilton, Director, H ispanic Am erican Report, Hispanic American Studies (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1958), 20-21. 66. Silberslein to Williams, 23 May 1957, lax 63D87, Office o f Inter-American Re­ gional Economic Affairs, File “M iscellaneous Material” Box 4, NA; Russell Edgerton, Sub-Cabinet Politics a n d Policy Commitment: The Birth o f the D evelopment Loan F und (Syracuse, NY: Inter-University Case Program, 1970), 27; “Proposed Instruc­ tions with Respect to Programs to Raise Consumption Levels and Accelerate Eco­ nomic Developm ent,” 18 June 1956, RG59, Lot 63D87, Box 1, File “PL 480 Loan Pol­ icy,” Office of Inter-American Regional Economic Affairs, NA. 67. Bolivia received 4.3 percent o f tlte total PL 480 akl given to Latin America dur­ ing Eisenhower's tenure. U.S. AID, Statistics and Reports Diviskm, U.S. Foreign Assis­ tance, 28, 30. Tills includes U.S. donatkins to internatkm al organizations. 68. Repûblica de Bolivia, Minlsterio de Hacienda, D irection G eneral de Estadlstica y Ceasos, Bolettn Estadistico (1964): 109, 64. For an excellent analyses o f the w heat­

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milling industry in Bolivia, and on the U.S. policies’ effect, see Laura Scohari de Q uerejazu, Historia de la Industria M olinera Boliviana, (La Paz: Asociaciön de ln> dustriales M olineros, A.D.I.M., 1987), 104-121; Melvin Burke, “Does ‘Food for Peace’ Assistance Damage die Bolivian Economy?” Inter-Am erican Economic Affairs 25 (Summer 1971): 3-21. 69. Contreras, The Bolivian Tin M ining Industry, 6 , 18. 70. Andrade to Guevara Atze, “Negociaciones d e Venta del EstaAo,” 13 March 1955, Em bajada Boliviana en W ashington— Enero-Junio 1953, ARE. 71. Andrade to Guevara Aize, 11 January 1954, Em bajada Boliviana en Washing­ ton, Enero-Junio 1954, ARE; Andrade to Guevara Arze, 27 June 1953, Em bajada Bo­ liviano en Washington, Enero-Junio 1953, ARE; Lelunan, U.S. Foreign A id, 458-459. 72. Ralx;, Eisenhower, 82. 73. Andrade to Glen E. Edgerton, 24 January 1955, Em bajada Boliviana en Wash­ ington, Enero-Junio 1955, ARE. 74. Andrade to Guevara Arze, 10 January 1956, Em bajada Boliviana en Washing­ ton, Enero-Junio 1956, ARE. Andrade also m entioned diat the “ideological struggle” betw een the Soviet Union and die United States was taking place in the developing w orld (including Bolivia): hodi die Soviets and the United States w anted to prove that they offered the best m eans for a devekiping nation to develop. 75. For an excellent description of die pow er o f modernization dieory over the minds of U.S. officials with regard to Third Work! policy, see Michael Latham, Mod­ ernization as Ideology—Am erican Social Science a n d *Nation B uilding" in the K ennedy Era (Cliapel Hill: University o f North Carolina Press, 2000). In James William Park’s impressive Latin Am erican Underdevelopment—A History o f Perspectives in the United States, 1970-1965(Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1995), he de­ fines modernization dieory as an attempt “to order and formalize increasingly complex explanations fix underdevelopm ent and to propose remedies consonant with U.S. his­ torical experience," 167. 76. Andrade to Guevara Arze, 10 January 1956, No. 5, “Memorandum—Recopilaciôn d e Antecedentes sobre Aslstenda Economic y Técnica de kxi EE.UU. a Bo­ livia,” Em bajada Boliviana en W ashington, Enero-Junio 1956, 9-17, ARE. 77. Philip W. Bonsai to Roy R. Rulxxtom, 4 Decem lier 1958, 824.00 TA/12-0458, RG 59, Central Files, NA. Bonsai w rote this cable at a time o f increasing labor vio­ lence in Bolivia. Indeed, it kxiked like the polity might collapse. Bonsai om inously told his superiors in W ashington, “(Alnything you ctxild d o to help could well lx: a critical factor” in Bolivia, w here the United States had invested so much “prestige and m oney.” 78. Dunkerley sum s up diis phenom enon in Ills chapter entided, “Revolution in R etreat, 1956-1964,” Rebellion in th e Veins— P olitical Struggle in Bolivia, 1952-1982 (London: Verso, 1984), 83-119. In 1964, the military threw out the MNR leadership which had ruled since the 1952 revdlution. As such, one can argue die revolutkm had nearly disintegrated since the revolutionaries had not institutional­ ized their revolutkm under civilian rule. Revolutkmary policies—most particularly land reform , universal suffrage, and the natkmulizatkm of die three largest mining com panies—did linger on after the 1964 golpe, however. Susan Eckstein, Im pact o f Revolution: A Com parative A nalysis o f M exico a n d Bolivia (London: Sage Publicatkms, 1976), 35.

220

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79. Lois Peicke Martin, “Bolivia in 1956,” in Ronald Hilton, Director, H ispanic Am erican Report, Hispanic American Studies (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1958) 5-6. 80. Eder, Inflation a n d Development, 53. 81. Franklin Antegana Paz, La Polfttca M onetarid de B olitia (La Paz: Banco Cen­ tral de Bolivia, 1954), Pitt Pamphlets, 7, 48. 82. RepuMica de Bolivia, D irection General de Estadistica y Censos, Bolettn Estadfstico 89 ( 1964), 38. The 1956 rate was the higliest since Bolivia liegan keeping records on price levels in 1931. 83. Jam es W. Wilkie, “U.S. Foreign Policy and Economic Assistance in Bolivia, 1948-1976," in Jam es W. Wilkie and Steplien I lalier, eds., Statistical Abstract oj'Latin Am erica (SALA) vol. 22 (Los Angeles: Latin American Center, University o f California, Los Angeles, 1982), 616. By 1957-1958, tile real price o f tin, calculated in 1970 dol­ lars, had fallen to its k»west level during the 1950-1985 period. See Wilkie, “Bolivia: Ironies in the National Revolutionary Process, 1952-86,” in Wilkie and Halier, eds., SALA, vol. 25 (Los Angeles, 1987), 922-923. 84. Thom , “The Economic Transform ation,” in Tliorn and Malloy, lleyond the Rei>olution—Bolivia since 1952, 173-174, 376. 85. Thorn, “Tlie Economic TransformatkHi,” 179. 86. George Jackson Eder, the liead o f tlie ILS. econom ic team that im posed the U.S. and IMF austerily/stahilization plan on Bolivia, tells Ills side o f tlie story in his In ­ fla tio n a n d Development, 141-242. 87. W hitehead, United States a n d Bolivia. 88. Lora, Bolivian Laixjur Movement, 312, 319-320, 327. 89. Eder, Inflation a n d Development, 77-78; Torres Calleja, A yttda Am ericana— Una Experiencia Frustrada, 66. 90. W inston Mtx>re Casanovas, “Capital Accumulation and Revolutionary Nation­ alism in Bolivia, 1952-1985,” in Chrisian Anglade and Carlos Fonin, eds, The State a n d Capital A ccum ulation in Latin Am erica, vol. 2 (Pitlslxirgh, PA: University o f Pittslxirgh Press, 1990), 36. 91. Lora, Bolivian Labour Movement, 312, 319-320, 327. 92. Bonsai to Roy R. Rulxrttom, 4 Decem ber 1958,824.00 TA/12-0458, RG 59, Cen­ tral Files, NA. 93. Lora, Bolivian Labour Movement, 327; Interview with Juan Lechin O quendo, 20 Felxuary 1997, La Paz. 94. Dunkerley, Relwllion, 92-93. For an overview of U.S.-Bolivian relations I'rcwn 1956-1960 and the decline of the MNR, see Jam es F. Siekmeier, iT jlie Most G enerous Assistance: U.S. Economic Akl to Guatemala anti Bolivia, 1944-1959,” TheJo urnal o f Am erican a n d C anadian Studies 11 (Spring 1994), 33-37. For inform ation on the re­ organizing and Ixiilding up of the Bolivian military in these years, see Raul Barrios, Ejercito y Revolution en BolitHa, 1952-1960 (La Paz: CLASCO y FLASCOBolivia, 1986), Investigation inédita realizada con el apoyo de CLASCO y FLASCOBolivia, 1986, Parte IV; Gary Prado Salmon, Poder y Fuerzas Arm adas, 1949-1982 (La Paz: Los Amigos del Lilxo, 187); and Kohl, “Natkmal Revolution and Revolution o f Restoralkm,” 22-23. 95. M inisters) de Reladones Exteriores to Ambassador Andrade, 16 January 1958, Colecclôn Enviados Reserm dos— 1954, ARE. iReservados are classified docum ents);

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M inerterio de Relackxies Exterkxes to Ministerio de Estado en el D espadu) de Ha­ cienda y Estadistica, 29 May 1958, ARE. 96. Lehman, Bolivia a n d the United States, 114-115. 97. Ministern) d e Relaciones Exterkxes to Fernando Uaptista G um udo, Encargado de Necogios a.i. de Uolivia, Caracas, Venezuela, 4 April 1959, ARE. 98. “M emorandum,” 6 June 1956, in Colecciôn Enviados Reservados—1956, ARE. 99. Herlxxt S. Klein, Bolivia—Evolution o f a M ulti-Ethnic Society, 2nd ed. (New York: Oxford, 1992), 241, 244. 100. M inisterio de Relaciones Exterkxes to Ambassadrx Andrade, 18 July 1958, Colecciôn Enviados Reservados— 1958, ARE. 101. Lehman, Bolivia a n d the United States, 135-134. 102. Lelunan, U.S. Foreign Aid, 398-399. 103. M inisterio de Relackxies Exterkxes to Mario Diez de Medina, Ministro de Estado en el D espaclio de Defensa N ational, 22 Felxuary I960, Colecciôn Enviados Reservados— 1960, ARE. 104. D unkeriey, Rebellion, 111-112. 105. Siekmeier, TrailM azer Diplomat," 805-806. 106. An im portant part of Eisenlrower’s strategy for fighting communism was eco­ nom ic assistance, especially the Mutual Security Program (MSP). Thomas G. Paterson, J. Garry Clifford, and Kenneth J. Hagan, Am erican Foreign Relations—A History Since 1895, v. 2, 5th ed. (Boston: Houghton Miffiin, 2000), 279-280; Rolxxt R. Bowie and Richard H. Immerman, W aging Peace— How Eisenhower Shaped a n Etuluring Cold War Strategy (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), 90, 101, 159, 163; Blance W iesen Cook, The D eclassified Eisenhower—A D ivided leg a cy (G arden City, NY: D oubleday and O xnpany, Inc., 1981), 210,309, 334,339,340. A good overall his­ tory o f the MSP and other Elsenhower akl initiatives is in Burton I. Kaufman, Trade Not A id-E isenhow er's Foreign Econom ic Policy (Baltim txe: Johns Hopkins Univer­ sity Press, 1982). 107. Martha L Cottam, Im ages a n d Intervention—US. Policies in la tin Am erica (Pittsburgh, PA: University o f Pittsburgh Press, 1994), 51-53. See also Kenneth Lehman, “Revolutkxis and Attrilxttkxis: Making Sense of Eisenhower Administratkxi Policies in Bolivia and Guatem ala,” D iplom atic History 21 (Spring 1997). 108. For an excellent overview o f U.S. relatkxis with Latin America in the Kennedy years see Stephen G. Rahe, The Most D angerous Area o f the World (Chapel Hill: Uni­ versity o f North Carolina Press, 1999). 109. Healy, Llamas, Weavings, a n d Organic Chocolate, 17-38. 110. Walter LaFeher, Inevitable Revolutions— The United States in Central Amer­ ica, 2nd ed. (New York: W. W. Norton, 1993), 161, 194.

IV THE GLOBALIZED COLD WAR IN THE MIDDLE EAST

10 The United States and Israel in the Eisenhower Era: The “Special Relationship” Revisited Peter L. Hahn

H us chapter analyzes the nature of the U.S.-Israeli relationship during the presidency of Dwight D. Elsenhower. Focusing on issues of national secu­ rity, it suggests that despite certain reservoirs of amity and accord between the two states, disagreement over security-related Issues created an aura of tension that peaked in two specific episodes of the late 1950s. Discerned by officials in both governments, this tension disproportionately bothered Is­ raeli leaders, who sensed the dependency of their state on friendship with the United States. This chapter tests the thesis, widely advanced in the literature on diplo­ macy between the United States and Israel, that die two powers shared a “special relationship.” This thesis generally posits that the United States and Israel cultivated a relatioaship featuring unusual levels of mutual friendli­ ness, interaction, dependency, and support. The special-reladonship thesis has been advanced by scholars who study the traditional diplomacy between the two states,1 the cultural aspects of die relationship,2 the influence of U.S. domestic culture and politics,3 and odier aspects of the relationship.4 The thesis has endured although some scholars have delineated its limits, espe­ cially on security-related matters.3 This chapter tests the special relationship thesis by examining U.S.-Israeli interaction on security and political Issues. By examining Elsenhower’s policy toward Israel, this chapter indirectly ad­ dresses other Issues of broad concern to scholars. It tests die “revisionist” theme that Eisenhower was an effective and activist chief executive. It probes the extent to which domestic culture and politics affected die evolution of official policy toward Israel. Finally, this chapter examines the intersection 225

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between U.S. global policy regarding (he Cold War and US. regional policy involving Israel, thereby evaluating whether Eisenhower prioritized the First World over the Third World. Early policy declarations by Eisenhower administration officials illumi­ nated the limits of U.S. official sympathy for Israel. Top officials clarified, for instance, that they would practice impartiality on Aralvlsraeli issues. While the United States must not “turn back the clock on the existence of Israel,” the State Department advised, it must correct President Harry S. Truman’s “lopsided” favoritism of Israel. Eisenhower and Secretary of Stale John Fos­ ter Dulles agreed to practice “a policy of true impartiality” lx*tween Israel and Arab states. The president resolved to 1% “as lough with the Israelis as with any other nation.” While Tntman had made policy “under direct politi­ cal pressure by Jewish groups,” Dulles bluntly told Israeli Frime Minister David Ben-Gurion during a visit to Israel in May 1953, w. • . Eisenhower did not owe that kind of political debt.1* Most Israeli officials perceived the turn in U.S. policy clearly and with trep­ idation. “The General’s [Eisenhower’s] orientation in Middle-Eastern affairs definitely shows a disturbing slant,” Moshe Sharett, Israel’s foreign minister in 1949-56 (and prime minister in 1954-55) noted privately. After visiting Washington in April 1953, he added that “if a comparison is made betw een Eisenhower and Tntman with respect to the hean and Dulles and (former Secretary of State] Acheson with respect to the brains then the descent is rather steep.” Dulles seemed “confused” by “the complex issues into which he was dropped,” the State Department appeared pro-Arab, and Secretary o f Defense Charles E. Wilson seemed “a limited man, innocent of any profi­ ciency” in Israeli security needs.7 By late 1953, teasions mounted. Ambassador to Washington Abba Eban noted that “a crisis of atmosphere and sentiment exists in the relations” be­ tween the two countries. “There are grounds for alarm,” Foreign Ministry of­ ficials concluded after receiving a secret briefing on a conversation betw een Dulles and a member of Congress. U.S. policy caused “great confusion . . . , nervousness and agitation,” Israeli diplomats noted. “The Administration Is not particularly responsive to Israel’s position and there is no longer a Mr. Tntman to pick up the telephone and order something done regardless o f the consequences.”8 For his part, Ben-Gurion, who served as Israeli prime minister during most of Eisenhower’s tenure in office, became deeply suspicious toward the pres­ ident. “I believe in the U.S. and its mission, despite McCarthy," the prime minister wrote privately in August 1953. “But if the U.S. demands from us something that opposes our conscience, we will tell lien go to hell with all your financial aid. We will not take orders from anybody. That would be a travesty to all Jewish history. We are not a Balkan state. We are the inheritors of the Jewish nation.” Although “American friendship is vital to us,” he added

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in 1954, “we must keep our sovereignty which is a condition of our exis­ tence. . . . America wants in fact a mandate on Israel,” but, he added defi­ antly, in apparent reference to reported U.S. covert operations in Latin Amer­ ica, “we are not Guatemala."9 With limited effect, some Israeli officials tried to preserve the favorable rela­ tionship of the Truman era. Eiiashiv Ben-Horin, political officer at the embassy in Washington, for example, predicted that Elsenhower might use his prestige to extract concessions from Arab leaders. “While the new Administration is less free with pro-Lsrael declarations than its predecessor,” Ehan added, “it is more forthcoming with pro-Israel deeds.” Israeli envoys recruited U.S. Jews to lobby members of Congress to pressure Elsenhower to favor Israel, and Ehan per­ suaded prominent Democrat Adlai Stevenson to reject the president’s request to affirm impartiality in the spirit of bipartisanship. Bowing to such political pressures, Dulles assured Ehan on 8 October 1953 that the U.S. government and people “ascribed to their friendship with Israel a special importance.”10 Israeli officials also tried to overcome the administration’s distance by nur­ turing connections with members of Congress and others. “Even though the president does not owe anything to the Jews,” Ben-Gurion noted in March 1953, “he is still dependent on the Congress, and through the Congress we can act.” Accordingly, Ehan rcciuiied American Jews to lobby members of Congress. In August 1953, lobbyist 1. L Kenen recruited Representative Jacob K. Javits to meet Dulles on Israel’s behalf. Through intimate contacts with members of Congress and their staff, Israeli envoys frequently learned the substance of confidential aspects of U.S. policy in the Middle Fast.11 To counter Eisenhower’s disposition, Israeli officials also promoted com­ prehensive public relations (hashara) operations. In October 1954, hashara officials at the Washington and New York embassies confirmed their twin purposes: “to try to reach the public directly, over as broad a front as possi­ ble, and through all possible channels of mass communications” and “to try to influence the ‘molders of public opinion’ in important specific spheres, e.g., church, business and economic life, educational and academic spheres, etc.” Hashara officers visited schools, delivered speeches, released films, published brochures and leaflets, disseminated photographs and stories to newspapers and radio stations, sponsored science exhibitions, and reached out to various Jewish groups and oiganizations such as the Kiwanis, the American Legion, and the National Education Association. By 1955, Ehan m easured hashara operations a success. “It Is difficult these days for an American citizen to take in hand newspapers or magazines or to listen to the radio without coming across a positive picture of Israel,” he noted. The fa­ vorable public image served as “a wall agaiast troubles and a precondition of political success.” Dulles’s pressure on Canada to provide Israel arms in 1956, Israeli officials believed, resulted from their mobilization of members o f Congress, newspapers, and Jewish groups during an election year.12

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Israeli efforts to counter Eisenhower’s impartiality through indirect chan­ nels, however, carried certain risks. In what I call the “influence dilemma,” Israeli officials soon discovered that their unofficial lobbying and politicking in the United States angered officials of the U.S. government, thus exacer­ bating the teasion in the official relatioaship. “It Is better not to perform an activity,” Chaim Hertzog of the Israeli Foreign Ministry’s United States Divi­ sion warned his colleagues involved in baslntra operations, “if the source o f the initiative might become known to the United States.” Israeli officials de­ tected that their informal lobbying for arms irritated Dulles. “The fact that the Israel anus Issue is being turned into a stick for beating the Government in the coming elections,” Leo Kohn of the embassy in Washington noted, “is having a most irritating effect on the State Department, a n d . . . Is making JFD (Dulles] personally even more stiffnecked in his negative attitude.” W hen Kenen suggested that Dulles receive American Jewish leaders to discuss the Is­ sue, State Department officer Donald Bergus asked why such leaders “get excited and run to the Secretary the moment a certain foreign governm ent puts the heat on them.”13 Indeed, the Eisenhower administration grew increasingly resistant to the Israel lobby. State Department officials questioned the American Zionist Committee’s tax-exempt status because of the lobbying of Kenen. In 1954, Kenen created the American Zionist Committee for Public Affairs (renam ed the American Israel Public Affairs Committee in 1959), which, lacking taxexempt status, remained underfunded for years. Because U.S. officials com­ plained that meeting individual Jewish leaders demanded too much time, moreover, various Jewish groups formed the Conference of Presidents o f Major American Jewish Organizations in 1954. Conference members collec­ tively met Elsenhower on occasion but discovered their effectiveness limited by the need to arrive at a consensus before each visit. Ambivalence am ong members of the group about Israel’s assertiveness toward its Arab neighbors also limited its effectiveness as a pro-Israel lobby.14 Israeli leaders also regretted a slight decline in support for Israel am ong the U.S. people. In early 1957, the Gallup poll found that 33 percent of Amer­ icans held favorable views of Israel, 53 percent were neutral, and 14 percent held unfavorable views. While popular attitudes toward Arab states w ere much less friendly, only 10 percent of America as approved Israel’s attack o n Egypt in October 1956 and 47 percent disapproved. Fifty percent expressed satisfaction with Elsenhower’s handling of the Israeli-Egypt dash—which induded pressure on Israel to withdraw from the Sinai and Gaza—and only 23 percent voiced dissatisfaction.15 The tension in official U.S. policy toward Israel was also reflected in pri­ vate expressions by U.S. officials about Israeli leaders. Michelle Mart has sug­ gested that the United States revealed a preference for Israel by casting its people in favorable, masculine terms and Arab people in unfavorable, femi­

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nine terms. Archival records reveal, however, that U.S. officials routinely feminized Israeli leaders as well. Ambassador to Tel Aviv Edward B. Lawson reported, for example, that Ben-Gurion was "emotionally upset and . . . near to tears” on a certain issue and in general "subject more to emotional than in­ tellectual influences.” For the same derisive effect, U.S. officials described Foreign Minister Golda Meir in masculine terminology. "She can out-Arab the Arabs,” Bergus once noted, "when it comes to the almost irresponsible use of strong language.”16 The tension stemming from Eisenhower’s profession of impartiality was aggravated by a U.S.-Israeli fundamental security divergence. In the interest of anti-Soviet containment policy, U.S. officials sought to maintain influence among Arab powers, downplayed the seriousness of Arab threats to elimi­ nate Israel, and called upon Israel to seek peace by making certain conces­ sions. Israel, by contrast, interpreted Arab propaganda and arms acquisitions as serious threats to its security, used force to secure its borders, and de­ m anded U.S. political support and arms supply. As a measure of the gulf betw een the two powers, Frime Minister Moshe Sharett justified Israel’s raid in Gaza in February 1955 as "an act of self-defense of a beleaguered nation surrounded by enemies,” while State Department officials argued that "such raids make the whole border situation worse and not better.” When the State Department pressed Israel to make peace by conceding territory to Arab states, Ben-Gurion replied that "as long as we live we will not permit anyone to rob us of a single inch of our land.”17 In light of such mistrust, it comes as no surprise that Israeli and U.S. offi­ cials clashed over security initiatives in the Middle East. In light of the Cold War, the Eisenhower administration assigned tremendous strategic value to the region’s military bases, lines of communication, and Suez Canal, all in close proximity to the Soviet Union. The Pentagon’s Joint Strategic Flans Group considered control of the region vital to the defense of NATO’s right flank and to the successful prosecution of war agaiast the Soviet heartland if global hostilities should occur. Soviet capture of the Middle East, the National Security Council (NSC) resolved, would leave U.S. security “critically endan­ gered.” Accordingly, U.S. officials proposed the Middle East Defense Orga­ nization (MEDO); established the Baghdad Fact (among Turkey, Iraq, Iran, Pakistan, and Britain) and informally associated with it; and drafted plans to use U.S. forces to defend the region against Soviet attack.18 Israeli leaders resisted these U.S. plaas. They deeply disliked MEDO be­ cause it would funnel weapons to their Arab adversaries. Prospective U.S. pressure on Israel to join a pact, Sharett predicted, would cause "internal feuding without precedent in the existence of the state, . . . increase our dependence on the U.S. and narrow our independence.” Israeli leaders also profoundly opposed the Baghdad Fact as "hostile to Israel” because it channeled arms to Iraq and encouraged Turkey to mollify Arab states at the

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expense of Turkish-Israeli amity. Dulles’s explanation that the pact would benefit Israel by dividing the Arab states and preventing Iraqi aggression did not ease such conceras. Rather, Israeli leaders demanded an explicit U.S. se­ curity guarantee. But Elsenhower refused that request on the grounds that such a provision would anger Arab leaders, distract them fVorn the Soviet menace, and thereby undermine vital Western interests.19 Eisenhower and Ben-Gurion also differed on the Eisenhower Doctrine of 1957. In the aftermath of the Suez-Sinai War of 1956, Elsenhower assumed explicit responsibility under the doctrine to stop communist expaasion in the region by fiscal and military means. The president asked Congress for au­ thority to dispense $200 million in economic and military aid and to commit armed forces to defend any country seeking assistance agaiast international communism. Congress passed a resolution approving the doctrine on 7 March and Elsenhower signed it into law two days later. U.S. planners ex­ cluded Israel from planned aid disbursements under the doctrine in light o f its relative security agaiast communism and the likely reaction among Arab states. Under the authority granted, Elsenhower distributed economic aid to Jordan and dispatched military troops to Lebanon in 1957-58.20 For his part, Ben-Gurion disliked the Eisenhower Doctrine because it promised to strengthen Western-Arab ties and reward Arab states that re­ mained hostile to his country. He also feared that U.S. pressure to affirm the doctrine would imperil Israel’s budding rapprochement with the Soviet Union and endanger “a liy a h from Poland and three million (lews] in Russia.” Israeli officials were pleased that Egyptian Premier Gamal Abdel Nasser’s criticism of the doctrine damaged ils prospects at no cost to their interests.21 U.S.-Israeli differences hardened as Ambassador James P. Richards toured the Middle East to promote the doctrine. Citing “very strong feeling on the Hill,” Dulles ordered Richards, agaiast his own inclination, to visit Israel. Richards rejected Foreign Minister Meir’s requests for a pledge to defend Is­ rael against Arab as well as Soviet attack and for economic aid to coastaict housing for recent East European immigrants, on the grounds that Israel was not threatened by communism. Meir and Ben-Gurion refused to affirm the doctrine publicly for fear of endangering the welfare of Russian and East Eu­ ropean Jews.22 U.S.-Israeli tensions also arose over U.S. plans to promote Arab-Israeli peace. To protect U.S. vital interests in the Middle East, Eisenhower generally affirmed a quest to stabilize die region, and peacemaking figured prominently in his plaas. State Department officials resolved in a series of policy papers written in the 1950s to pursue intraregional peace, promote economic devel­ opment, encourage local powers to help defend against Soviet incursion, and improve bilateral relations with local states. The United States, Bromley K. Smith of the NSC special staff summarized in 1955, needed “stable, viable, friendly governments in the area capable of withstanding

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Communist-inspired subversion from within and willing to resist Communist aggression.” Arab-lsraeli peace, in principle, appeared to be a key ingredient in the recipe for stability.23 From the earliest days of the Eisenhower administration, however, Israeli leaders indicated reluctance to make peace. Ben-Gurion claimed to desire peace only if it did not require cession of land, international control of Jerusalem, or repatriation of refugees. “The stability of the Middle East does not depend upon ‘arrangements,’” he commented in April 1953, “but on cul­ tural uplifting of the Arabs, and this requires a long-term plan.” Foreign Min­ ister Sharett suspected that any U.S. “peace offensive” might make Israel ap­ pear weak or force it to concede on vital issues. Given Israeli resistance to compromise with Arab states and its policy of reprisais against border provo­ cations, the State Department sensed by 1954 that Israel had lost faith in the armistices and contemplated assertive action on the calculation that only vi­ olence could improve its situation.24 Tensions escalated as the United States, together with Britain, advanced the Alpha peace plan in 1955. The comprehensive plan proposed compro­ mises on the vexing issues of territory, refugees, economic development, trade, and Jerusalem. It was pitched to the Arab states and Israel with such incentives as a prospective $1 billion in U.S. aid and U.S.-British borders guarantees. U.S. and British officials presented the plan secretly to Egypt, and, despite Egyptian reluctance, Dulles publicized the plan in late August 1955 in tlie hope that it would instill in the Arab states and Israel “a sense of urgency in seeking a settlement.”25 Israeli leaders resisted the Alpha plan even before they were officially in­ formed of it. The Gaza raid, Ambassador Lawson noted, indicated that the “sands of time ran out on Israellil moderation policy.” Israelis possessed “the deepest and most emotional feelings” on land, he added, and “any hackdown, even involving relatively small areas and areas of little value, such as sand and rock, would be difficult.” Israeli officials privately derided the plan as an unworkable ploy to “take the sting out of the Israel problem in the [1954 U.S.] election war, to calm the Jews, and to divert the Egyptians in pleasant ways from their gaze to the Soviet Union.” Prime Minister Sharett pressed Dulles to Issue a security guarantee to Israel instead of floating a peace plan. Once Dulles announced Alpha, Eban called die proposed Israeli cessions of territory a “built-in deadlock.”26 O ther differences with Israel surfaced as U.S. officials prom oted Alpha in late 1955. The Egyptian-Israeli border crisis of August and the CzechEgyptian arms deal of September aggravated Egyptian-Israeli tensions and thus underm ined the prospects for Alpha. Elsenhower lamented that he had “begged to be allowed to be friends of both sides—but that there lias been that flaming antagonism.” Desperate to rescue Alpha, Dulles author­ ized British Prime Minister Anthony Eden publicly to endorse the plan on

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9 November and dem and that Israel cede a corridor linking Jordan and Egypt in the Negev. “It was probably good,” Dulles told Eisenhower, "to administer some shock treatm ent to Israelis about territory.” While indicat­ ing acceptance of certain features of Alpha, however, Israeli officials cate­ gorically refused to cede any land. “The people of Israel. . . were 100% o p ­ posed to any cession” of territory, Eban summarized. “The whole proposal smacks of Munich.”27 To be sure, Israeli opposition to Alpha was not the only factor under­ mining the peace process. Arab leaders also took a cautious approach to the Anglo-American plan, insisting that Israel make substantial conces­ sions, especially of territory, before they would begin peace talks. Indeed, certain Arab statesmen strove for “eventual liquidation of Israel as a politi­ cal entity,” in the eyes of the State Department. “The Jewish state is re­ garded as a cancer on the Ixxly of the Arab Middle East. Quite frankly, the Arabs want it rem oved.”28 U.S.-Israeli tensions also surfaced over the rapprochement between the United States and the United Arab Republic (UAR) in 1958-59. Eisenhower sought to improve his relationship with Nasser in order to promote his anti­ communist objectives in the Arab world. Despite U.S. efforts to insulate die improvement in relations from Israeli backlash, however, Israeli officials challenged it. Minister to Washington Yaacov Herzog expressed concern “lest improved U.S.-U.A.R. relations should be at the expense of Israel.” For­ eign Ministry officials warned the State Department that Nasser represented “fascist imperialism” and “international communism.” Israeli officials also launched a basbara campaign designed to “raise hell” in U.S. popular me­ dia. Nasser “Is no less a liar now than lie was in the past and there Is no doubt he will cheat them again,” Meir told basbara officials. Americans “see only the communist danger,” Ben-Gurion noted privately. “We see the Nasser danger.”29 By I960, the U.S.-UAR rapprochement cooled in large part because of Is­ rael. Nasser accused Israel and U.S. Zionists of placing anti-UAR editorials in U.S. newspapers, arranging labor picketing against an Egyptian ship in New York harbor, and encouraging anti-Egyptian sentiment in Congress. He also expressed resentment that many U.S. leaders voiced pro-Israel views during the U.S. election campaigns of I960. Nasser saw “no real problem in US-UAR relations,” he told U.S. Ambassador to Cairo G. Frederick Reinliardt, “other than the problem of Israel.”3“ Israel also factored into discussions among U.S. officials about reviving the rapprochem ent by arranging a meeting between Eisenhower and Nasser in late I960. Eisenhower accepted the State Department’s advice not to receive Nasser at the White House because such a step would anger Israel and provoke a backlash among pro-Israel citizens and members of Congress. By contrast, he agreed to meet Nasser at the United Nations on 25 September,

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and he secured the acquiescence of U.S. Jewish leaders by pledging to ex­ plain to Nasser in “plain language” that many U.S. citizens disliked UAR hos­ tility toward Israel. But the State Department cancelled an eight-day cross­ country tour by Nasser because erf security and protocol concerns “during the heat of a presidential campaign.”31 For their part, Israeli officials secretly orchestrated a publicity campaign to shape the Eisenhower-Nasser meeting. The Israeli Embassy anonymously published and distributed several pamphlets containing excerpts from various newspaper stories and editorials critical erf Nasser. Care was taken to ensure anonymity in order to avoid angering Elsenhower or appearing as meddlers. Hasbara officials took credit for a demonstrable increase in scorn for neutralism in U.S. public opinion. At the summit itself, Elsenhower and Nasser profoundly disagreed about the legitimacy of Israel.32 U.S.-Israeli discord also developed over the Issue of arms supply. Israel re­ peatedly requested U.S. weapons supply in 1955-56, especially during what Eban called the “solemn hour of national emergency” following the SovietEgyptian arms deal of 1955. Convinced that Israel had the capability to de­ feat its adversaries, however, the State Department calculated that arming Is­ rael would alienate Arab states and ruin prospects for a permanent peace settlement. Arming Israel “would be fatal to our position in the Middle East,” William M. Rountree of the State Department observed, because “the result would be a tiny Israel armed by the U.S. opposed to the Arab world sup­ ported by the Soviet bloc."33 U.S. arms supply policy continued to generate discord as the Soviets sup­ plied weapons to Arab powers in the late 1950s. Israeli officials protested that the Arab states, divided in loyalties to East and West, collectively re­ ceived large quantities of arms that posed a serious danger to them. In Oc­ tober 1957, they requested weapons to balance the submarines and MIG-19 aircraft that had recently arrived in Egypt and Syria. Because Nasser would soon deploy 1,000 Soviet tanks, Meir argued in late 1958, Israel needed U.S. funds to increase its arsenal to 200 tanks. The U.S. reply, Ben-Gurion told Eisenhower, would determine whether the Israelis “were to remain a free, in­ dependent nation or whether they were going to be exterminated.”34 The president, however, declined the Israeli requests. Dulles downplayed Arab rhetoric about destroying Israel, telling Eban that “Israel was just a good thing for politicians to talk about.” Although the Arab states possessed more weapons than Israel, CIA and State Department officials concluded, Israel’s superiority in air power, logistics, and skill would enable it to defeat an at­ tack by any combination of its Arab enemies. Dulles told Eban in 1957 to strive for “a respectable defensive posture” rather than a preponderance of arms. Eisenhower concluded that supplying Israel bombers or tanks, which had offensive applications, might trigger a Middle East arms race and deepen Soviet-Arab ties.35

2.Vi

Peter L. Ila b n

In the twilight of Eisenhower’s presidency, U.S.-lsraeli relatioas were fur­ ther strained by Israel’s nuclear program. U.S. intelligence confirmed in Sep­ tember I960 that Israel had secretly coastm cted at Dimona a nuclear reactor capable of producing weapoas-grade plutonium. Eisenhower’s fears of a nu­ clear arms race in the Middle East were confirmed wlien Nasser declared in December tliat if Israel built an atomic bomb then the “UAR would get one, too, at any price.” U.S. officials expressed to Israel that they “unequivocally opposed” nuclear proliferation in the Middle East and tliat Israel should al­ low international iaspectioas to confirm Israel’s claim that the Dimona reac­ tor was devoted to peaceful purposes. Elsenhower remained troubled by Ben-Gurion’s equivocal aaswer.36 While such security issues generated a climate of teasion, U.S.-lsraeli rela­ tioas hit bottom twice during the Elsenhower years. During the Suez Crisis of July-October 1956, Israel tried to influence negotiatioas at London, at the United Nations, and elsewhere by subtly publicizing its view that any politi­ cal settlement of the crisis must guarantee its right to free traasit on the Suez Canal. Israeli officials noted favorable press coverage in the United States but detected no residual benefits in U.S. diplomacy, prompting Walter Eytan o f the Israeli Foreign Ministry to “wonder whether the thesis tliat the press in­ fluences the Government Is any better founded than the widespread belief that ‘the Jews’ influence the press.” Denied a diplomatic victory, Ben-Gurion colluded with Britain and France to attack Egypt in late October in defiance of Eisenhower’s warnings not to do so.37 That move infuriated Eisenhower and provoked a showdown in U.S.Israeli relatioas. The president called Israel “an aggressor," endorsed UN res­ olutions censuring it, and threatened to impose sanctioas. The United States had “no moral reason to condemn our action . . . of self-defence,” BenGurion retorted, since it “has not experienced the nightmare of continuous aggression and the threat of extinction as we have.” Israeli officials quickly mobilized their supporters in Congress, the media, and other public venues to pressure Eisenhower to delay sanctions, and attributed the president’s de­ cision to withhold sanctions to the “super-human efforts of many friends who stood by us.” Yet only Ben-Gurion’s decision to withdraw his forces from Gaza and the Sinai enabled U.S.-Israeli relations to avoid further decline.38 During the crises in Lebanon and Jordan in 1958, even deeper disharmony gripped U.S.-lsraeli relations as U.S. officials sensed that Israel had become a liability to their anti-Soviet containment policy. As U.S. Marines occupied Beirnt, Dulles lamented that “Israel is a hostage held agaiast us” by Sovietsupported Arab nationalists. He and Eisenhower justified intervention in Lelianon and Jordan as applicatioas of dual containment, to deny the coun­ tries to Nasserite radicals and to Israel. Eisenhower agreed that “except for Israel we could form a viable policy in the area,” although he w ondered

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“how to take a sympathetic position regarding the Arabs without agreeing to the destruction of Israel.” In August, hy contrast, when the NSC identified U.S. “bedrock objectives” in the Middle East, meaning interests worth fight­ ing to protect, Eisenhower clarified that “preserving the independence of Is­ rael should not be added to our bedrock objectives at this time.”39 Much of this tension resulted from a tactical disagreement involving the British occupation of Jordan. Israel initially granted the Western powers per­ mission to transit its airspace, a privilege vital to the joint airlift erf British forces to Jordan. When the Soviets threatened to retaliate, however, BenGurion revoked the permission, spoiling the gratitude he had earned in the Western capitals. Dulles spoke to British officials “about the deplorable con­ sequences of Israel surrendering to Russian pressure” and he and Elsen­ how er categorically rejected Israel’s atgumenls that it deserved a security guarantee as a reward for its support during the operations.40 The NSC, moreover, reconsidered relations with Israel in November 1958. It identified Soviet expansionism “using Arab nationalism as its instrument” as the chief danger in the Middle East. To counteract it, the United States must build bridges to estranged Arab states, seek an Arab-Israeli compromise peace settlement, and discourage extraregional arms supply. To deter Israel from upsetting their plans, U.S. officials should “make clear as appropriate that, while U.S. policy embraces the preservation of the State of Israel in ils essentials, we believe that Israel’s continued existence as a sovereign state depends on its willingness to become a finite and accepted part of the Near East nation-state system.”41 Israeli officials sensed the shift in U.S. thinking. The Foreign Ministry ex­ tensively discussed what it called the “crisis with the U.S.,” which, overlook­ ing the deeper U.S. uncertainties about the value of Israel, it attributed to U.S. anger at Israel for suspending the overflights to Jordan. Some officials be­ lieved that “the anger was w orthw hile;. . . it shook up the Americans a little bit and reminded them that it is not so simple to deal with us.” But most of them worried that U.S. irritation would persist indefinitely and permeate even Congress and the public. “We gained nothing from the crisis,” Herzog noted, “and it would be better if it had not happened at all.”42 Israeli officials remained troubled by this crisis for some time. In late 1958, Ben-Gurion, Meir, and others in Jemsalem privately predicted that if Soviet Russia or an Arab state attacked Israel, the United States would renege on its pledge to protect any victim of aggression. In 1959, Israeli officials identified “cause for worry” that the United States, in its quest to befriend Nasser, would turn on them.43 In the aftermath of the 1958 crises, U.S.-Israeli relations stabilized as U.S. officials reaffirmed the impartiality policy. “We seek to treat Israel like any other friendly state,” State Department officials resolved. “H ie interests of special groups in this country in Israel must be taken into account, but our

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policy must he based primarily on our national interests in the area, w here there are other states with which we desire firm and friendly relatioas.” Is­ rael “occupies a very special place in U.S. international relations,” Rountree iastructed Ambassador-designate to le i Aviv Ogden Reid in June 1959, but the “very close relatioaship with Israel lias to be carefully balanced by o u r attention to the Arab slates."44 In 1953-61, the Arab dimeasion strained U.S. relatioas with Israel. Presi­ dent Eisenhower's impartiality policy, designed to correct what lie perceived as a pro-Israel disposition of the Truman government, troubled Israeli lead­ ers. The two states disagreed on a variety of Arab-related issues, such as peace terms, Israeli security, U.S. arms supply policy, and the Israeli nuclear program. Official relatioas declined dramatically during the Suez-Sinai War of 1956-57 and the Lebanon-Jordan crisis of 1958. Although Israel main­ tained reservoirs of sympathy in U.S. public opinion, Arab-related disputes opened fissures in U.S.-Israeli official relatioas. Conflicting security interests were the fundamental cause of U.S.-Israeli discord. U.S. officials remained concerned primarily with the perceived threat of Soviet expaasion into the Middle East, a development that w ould endanger vital Western interests such as access to Middle East military liases, lines of communication, and oil resources. To meet that threat, U.S. leaders sought to recruit Arab states as Cold War allies and partners. Too close a re­ latioaship with Israel might imperil the objective of containing Soviet influ­ ence by driving Arab states into political affiliation with Moscow. U.S. offi­ cials remained reluctant to extend security concessioas to Israel because doing so might alienate Arab states, encourage Arab-Soviet ties, or otherwise undermine U.S. interests in the Middle East. Even at those moments w hen Israeli leaders believed that their security hung in the balance, U.S. officials downplayed the threats facing Israel, denied Israel the w eapoas and guar­ antees it demanded, and refrained from backing Israel’s policy toward its adversaries. Israel’s pursuit of its own strategic interests limited its security relatioaship with the United States. Israeli leaders sought U.S. security assurances agaiast their Arab neighbors, whom they coasidcred their primary danger, but not at the price of concessioas that would otherwise undermine their security. Thus, Israel refused to align itself with Western defease schemes in the 1950s because such a step would risk its neutrality in the Cold War, upon which rested vital interests in Eastern Europe such as prospective Jewish emigration and potential political and military support in disputes with Arab states. Is­ rael feared that Western defease pacts would damage Israeli interests, either by channeling arms to Arab states or, should Israel join, by risking the reve­ lation of military secrets to adversaries. Ben-Gurion’s proactive policy of re­ taliation agaiast Arab provocations frequently dismayed U.S. leaders, most notably during the Suez war of 1956.

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Israeli officials became aware of this fundamental security divergence dur­ ing the 1950s. Pinhas Eliav of the Israeli Foreign Ministry commented in 1959, for example, that on “the bilateral level of U.S.-lsraeli relations every­ thing is usually all right because there are many factors, spiritual, public, and even political that work for friendship." Tension resulted, however, on the "trilateral" U.S.-Israeli-Arab level. Because Washington would not risk its own security by alienating Arab states, it would not skie fully with Israel on matters of Israeli security vis-â-vls the Arabs. The "gap between these two levels,” Eliav observed, seemed "impossible” to close.49 That gap divided U.S. and Israeli officials through the Eisenhower era. This chapter thus offers an important corrective to the special relationship thesis. It also sheds light on other issues pertaining to Eisenhower’s diplo­ macy in the Third World. Consistent with the central theme of Eisenhower revisionism, it shows that the thirty-fourth president was actively involved in the formulation of U.S. policy. While he did not uniformly achieve his ob­ jectives in the region, Eisenhower formulated a policy characterized by con­ sistency, cogency, and clarity. The evidence presented in this chapter also shows that domestic political and cultural factors shaped Eisenhower’s relationship with Israel. A vigorous pro-Israel lobby, orchestrated in many cases by Israeli government officials, generated public and congressional support for Israel that limited the presi­ dent’s options in dealing with the state. At the same time, ironically, the success of such politicking created a current erf' resentment within the U.S. governm ent that strained the official relationship. Finally, this chapter presents evidence that Eisenhower’s policy in the Mid­ dle East was profoundly influenced by his approach to the Cold War. The president’s quest to contain Soviet communism impelled him to pursue se­ curity systems in the Middle East—such as the Middle East Defense Organi­ zation, the Baghdad Fact, and the Eisenhower Doctrine—that generated ten­ sion in U.S.-Israeli relations. Because access to Arab oil resources and military resources seemed essential in light of the Cold War, Elsenhower deem ed those states important security partners, a position that alienated Is­ rael. The First World cast a long shadow over the Third World.

NOTES The author is grateful to Rohen S. Robinson for com menting on an earlier draft of this chapter.

1. Bernard Reich, Quest fo r Peace: United States-Israel Relations a n d tbe ArabIsraeli Conflict (New Brunswkk, NJ: Transaction, 1977); Thomas A. Bryson, Am erican D iplom atic Relations with tbe M iddle East, 1784-1975: A Survey (M etuchen,

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NJ: Scarecrow, 1977); Nadav Safran, Israël: The Em lxittkxl Ally (Camlxklge, UK: Belk­ nap, 1978); Ethan Nadelniann, “Setting tlte Stage: American Policy toward die M iddle East, 1961-1966,” International Journal o f MUklle East Studies 14:4 (Nov. 1982): 435-57; Steplten Green, Taking Sides: Am erica’s Secret Relations with a M ilitant Israel (New York: Mormw, 1984); Bernard Reich, The IHiited States a n d Israel: Influence in the Special Rehtliotisbip (New York: Praeger, 1984), vii-ix; Asaf Hussein, 'the United States a n d Israel: Politics o f a Special Relationship ( Islamalxid, Pakistan: Quaid-I-Azam University, 1991); George W. Ball and Douglas B. Ball, The Passionate Attachm ent: Am erica’s Involvement u itb Israel, 1947to the Present (New York: Norton, 1992); Dou­ glas Little, “Tlie Making of a Special Relationship: Tlte United States and Israel, 1957-1968," International Journal o f M iddle East Studies 2 5 ( 1993): 563-85; Camille Mansour, Beyond Alliance: Israel in U.S. Foreign Policy, traas. James A. Cohen (N ew York: Columbia, 1994); Dan Raviv and Yossi Melman, Friends in Deed: Inside the U.S.Israel Alliance (New York: Hyperion, 1994), xiii-xiv; Bernard Reich, Securing the Covenant: United States-Israel Relations after the Cold War (Westport, CT, 1995). 2. Paul Boyer, When Time Shall Be No More: Prophecy B elief in M odem Am erican Culture (Camlxklge, UK: Belknap, 1992); Yaakov Ariel, On B ehalf o f Israel: Am erican Fundam entalist Attitudes toward Jetvs, Judaism , a n d Zionism, 1865-1945 (Bnxiklyn, NY: Carlson, 1991); Lester I. Vogel, To See a Promised Land: Am ericans a n d the H oly Land in the Nineteenth Century (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1993); Mkltael T. Benson, Harry S. H um an a n d the Founding o f Israel (Westport, Cl', 1997); M idielle Mart, “Tough Guys and American Cokl War Policy: Images of Israel, 1948-1960,” Diplomatic History .20:3 (Summer 1996): 357-80. 3. Eytan Gillxxt, Am erican Public O pinion tow ard Israel a n d the Arah-Israeli Conflict (Lexington, MA.: Heatli, 1987); Edward Tivnan, The Lobby: Jetvisb Political P ouer a n d Am erican Foreign Policy (New York: Simon tk Schuster, 1987); Steven L Spiegel, The Other Arab-lsraeli Conflict: M aking A m erica’s M iddle East Policy, fro m Trunum to Reagan (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985); John Snetsinger, Trum an, the Jewish Vote, a n d the Creation o f Israel (Stanford, CA: Ihxtver Institution Press, 1974); Kenneth Ray Bain, The M arch to Zion: U nited States Policy a n d the Founding o f Israel (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1979); Evan M. Wil­ son, How the U.S. Came to Recognize Israel (Stanford, CA: Hrxiver Institution Press, 1979); Cheryl A. Ruhenherg, Israel a n d the Am erican N ational Interest: A C ritical E xam ination (Urbana: University o f Illinois Press, 1986). 4. Davkl Schoenbaum, The United States a n d the State o f Israel (New York: O x­ ford, 1993); Isaac Altéras, Eisenhower a tu l Israel: U.S.-lsraeli Relations, 1953-1960 (Gainesville: University Press o f Fktrida, 1993); Andrew Q x k ln im and Leslie Q x:khurn, D angerous Liaison: The Inside Story o f the US.-Israeli Covert Relationship (New York: H arper & Collins, 1991); Seymour M. Hersh, The Sam son Option: Israel’s N uclear Arsenal a n d Am erican Foreign Policy (New York: Random, 1991); A. F. K. O iganski, The $36 Billion D ollar Bargain: Strategy a n d Politics in US. Assistance to Israel (New York: G)lum bia, 1990). 5. Yaacov Bar-Siman-Tov, “Tlte United States and Israel since 1948: A ‘Special Re­ lationship?,” D iplom atic H istory 22:2 (Spring 1998):231-62; Zaclt Levey, Israel a n d the Western Pouhus, 1952-1960 (Chapel Hill: University o f North Carolina Press, 1997); Abraham Ben-Zvi, The United States a n d Israel: The Limits o f the Special Re­ lationship (New York: Columbia, 1993); William B. Q uandt, Peace Process: A tnerican

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D iplom acy a n d the A rab-lsm eli C onflict since 1967 (Washington, DC: Brookings, 1993)- Alexander D econde, Ethnicity, Race, a n d Am erican Foreign Policy: A History (Boston: N ortheastern University Press, 1992); Yaacov Bar-Siman-Tov, Israel, the Su­ perpowers, a n d the War in the M iddle East (New York: Praeger, 1987); Steven L. Spiegel, The Other Arah-lsraeli Conflict: M aking Am erica ’s M iddle East Policy fro m Trum an to Reagan (Chicago: University o f Chicago Press, 1985); Michael J. Colien, Palestine a n d the Great Powers, 1945-1948 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1982); Zvi Ganin, Trum an, Am erican Jewry, a n d Israel, 1945-1948 (New York: Holmes & Meier, 1979). 6. State Departm ent paper, 7 May 1953, FRUS, 1952-1954, 9:1215—18; memoran­ dum by Dulles, 1 June 1953, RG 59, Lot 64 D 563, box 30; minutes o f NSC meeting, 9 July 1953, Whitman File: NSC folder, box 4; m inutes o f meeting, May 1953, LHA, RG 130.20, 2474/4. See also record o f chiefs o f mission conference, 14 May 1954, White H ouse Office: NSC Staff Papers, OCB Series, box 77, Dwight D. Elsenhower Lilxary, A bilene, KS. 7. Share« to Israel Goldstein, 8 March 1953, RG 130.20, 2464/8; Share« to Eytan (H ebrew ), 11 April 1953, RG 130.02, 2414/27. See also Ben-Horin to Eban (H elxew ), 16 D ecem ber 1952, RG 130.02, 2460/6; Herlitz to Eban, 20 February 1953, RG 130.02, 2414/27; and m inutes o f meeting, May 1953, and circular telegram by Eytan, 14 May 1953, ISA, RG 130.20, 2474/4. 8. M emorandum by Eban, 8 O ctober 1953, RG 130.20, 2460/6; memorandum o f conversation by Goitein, 6 Mar. 1953, RG 130.20, 2460/6; Avner to Bender, 9 Septem ber 1953, RG 130.20, 2475/2. 9. Ben-Gurion Diary (H ebrew ), 18 August 1953, 11, 2 July 1954, Ben-Gurion Li­ brary. See also unsigned policy paper, 18 August 1954, RG 130.02, 2414/28. 10. Eban to Elath, 4 May 1953, RG 130.20, 2479/11; Eban memorandum, 8 Oct. 1953, ISA, RG 130.20, 2460/6. See also memoranda o f conversation by Goitein, 11, 27 February 1953, Eban to Smith, 11 February 1953, RG 130.20, 2479/10; memoran­ dum o f conversation by Goitein, 6 March 1953, RG 130.20, 2460/6; Elxm to Siiarett, 11 March 1953, Goklmann Papers, Z6/721; Silver to Adams, 24 May 1955, Silver Pa­ pers, Correspondence 6-1 File; Eban, Autobiography, 172-75. 11. Ben-Gurion Diary (H elxew ), 28 March 1953. See also Avron to Siiarett, 25 August 1953, Bendor to Share« (H elxew ), 9 Septem ber 1953, RG 130.20, 2475/2; Eban memorandum, 8 O ctober 1953, RG 130.20, 2460/6; unsigned memorandum to Lipsky, n.d. (c. March 1954), RG 130.02, 2414/27; memorandum o f conversatkxi by Arad (H ebrew ), 10 May 1956, RG 130.20, 2480/10. 12. M emorandum by Levin, 20 Sept. 1954, RG 130.20, 2469/10; Eban to Mahav (H elxew ), 21 Jan. 1955, RG 130.20, 2480/6. See aLso summary o f Foreign Ministry m eeting (H ebrew ), 14 Apr. 1953, RG 130.20, 2479/11; Levin to Eytan, 31 Dec. 1953, B endor to Levin (H ebrew ), 28 Feb. 1954, RG 130.02, 2414/27; Levin to USD (He­ brew ), 18 Mar. 1954, RG 130.20, 2467/7; memorandum by Shimoni, 21 Feb. 1955, RG 130.20, 2480/6; minutes o f meeting, 18 Apr. 1955, and Levin to USD, 6 July 1955, RG 130.20, 2471/4; Eban to USD (H ebrew ), 17 July 1956, RG 130.20, 2480/11; paper by Hertzog (H elxew ), 22 July 1956, RG 130.20, 2477/17. 13. Paper by Hertzog (H ebrew ), 9 March 1956, RG 130.20, 2475/5; Kohn to Eban, 7 March 1956, RG 130.20, 2480/10; Teller to Goldmann, 16 July 1956, Goldmann Pa­ pers, Z6/1105. See also Ben-Gurkxi Diary (H ebrew ), 12 May 1955; Shiloah to Siiarett

210

Peter L. H ahn

(H ebrew ), 17 Octolier 1955, RG 130.20, 2480/9; Elxm to Sharett, 10, 25 Felxuary 1956, RG 130.02, 2422/8. 14. Tivnan, The lobby, 37-50; David Goldlxxg, Foreign Policy a n d Ethnic Inter­ est Groups ( New York: G reenw ood, 1990), 15-17. 15. Gallup, Gallup Poll, 1454-57, 1464, 1484-85; Gilboa, Am erican Public O pin­ ion, 32-33. For accounts em phasizing the closeness o f lJ.S.-lsraeli relations in the late 1950s, see Safran, Israel: The Em lw tlled Ally, 353-80; Altéras, Eisenhower a n d Israel; Little, “Making o f a Special Relationship.” 16. Lawson to Dulles, 29 Feb. 1956, RG 59, 684A.86; Lawson to Dulles, 20 Apr. 1956, RG 59, 674.84A; Uergus to Lawson, 16 Mar. 1957, RG 59, Lot 59 D 582, box 4. See also Matt, “Tough Guys and American Cold War Policy." 17. Sharett to Dulles, 12 April 1955, RG 59, 601A.86; Jernegan to Dulles, 13 April 1955, RG 59, 601.84A11; Lawson to Dulles, 17 Nov. 1955, RG 59, 684A.86. See also m envxandum o f conversation by Goitein, 25 Feb. 1953, RG 130.20, 2460/6; notes by Eytan, 17 June 1954, RG 130.20, 2480/4. 18. NSC 155/1, 14 July 1953, FRUS, 1952-1954, 9:399-406. See also m em oran­ dum by Partridge, 26 Feb. 1953, RG 319, Anny COS Files, 091 Egypt; Phillips to W il­ son, 14 Nov. 1953, RG 218, JCS G eographic File, 1954, lx>x 11A, CCS 381 EMMEA (11-19-47); paper by JSPG, 26 Feb. 1954, RG 218, JCS G eographic File 1954, lx>x 11A, 381 EMMEA (11-19-47); NSC 5428, 23 July 1954, FRUS, 1952-1954, 9:525-36; D ulles to Eisenhower, 28 Mar. 1956, W hitman File: Diary Series, box 13. 19. Sharett to USD, 5 February 1954, RG 130.20, 2491/13; Elishar to West Europe D epartm ent (H ebrew ), 21 Felt. 1957, RG 130.23, 3110/38. See also Coma y to Eytan, 5 July 1953, RG 130.02, 2445/12; Hertzog to Eban, 20 M ardi 1953, RG 130.20, 2460/6; circular telegram by Dulles, 24 Aug. 1955, Dulles to Lawson, 19 Jan. 1955, Lawson to Dulles, 17 Feb. 1955, RG 5 9 ,684A.86; memorandum by Eliav (H elxew ), 18 Dec. 1956, m em orandum by Cohn (H elxew ), n.d. (Jan. 19571, RG 130.23, 3110/38; m em oran­ dum o f conversatkm by Drown, 31 Oct. 1957, RG 59, 611.84A; Shiloah to Elian (H e­ brew ), 10 Feb. 1958, RG 130.23, 3088/6; Dulles to Eisenhower, 5 Mar. 1958, W hitman File: Dulles-Herter, box 7; Elran to Meir (Hebrew), 11 Oct. 1958, summary o f discus­ sion (Hebrew), 1 Dec. 1958, Eliav to Elian (Hebrew), 6 April 1959, Elran to Eliav (H e­ lxew ), 28 April 1959, RG 130.23, 3088/6-7. 20. Eisenhower to Dulles, 12 Dec. 1956, Whitman File: Dulles-Herter Series, box 6; m em orandum o f conversatkm by Persons, 29 Jan. 1957, Whitman File: Diary Series, Ixix 21; paper by Dulles, 3 Feb. 1957, Dulles Papers, Subject Series, box 5, DDEL; m em orandum o f conversation by Wilkins, 6 Feb. 1957, Whitman File: Internatkinal Series, Ixix 34; Dulles to Elsenhower, 4 Mar. 1957, Whitman File: Dulles-Herter Series, box 6; NSC staff study on NSC 5801, 16 Jan. 1958, RG 273. 21. Den-Gurion Diary (Hebrew), 8 Apr. 1957. See also Lawson to Dulles, 8 Jan. 1957, RG 59, 974.7301; circular cable from Eytan (H ebrew ), 6 Jan. 1957, RG 130.23, 3088/3; circular cable from IFM (H ebrew ), 20 Jan. 1957, RG 130.23, 3089/7; IFM pa­ per (H ebrew ), n.d. (Apr. 1957J, RG 130.02/2, 4330/8. 22. Memcxandum o f conversation, 1 May 1957, H eiter Papers, Telecon Series, lx>x 10. See also Dulles to Richards, 18 Apr. 1957, Richards to Dulles, 4 May 1957, FRUS, 1955-1957, 552-53, 597-601; Israeli m em orandum o f conversatkm , 3 May 1957, RG 130.02/2, 4330/8; Ben-Gurion Diary (H ebrew ), 3, 17-18 May 1957; Rountree to Dulles, 8 May 1957, m em orandum by Richards, 25 May 1957, RG 59, Lot 57 D 6l 6, boxes 14, 16.

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23. M emorandum by Smith, 30 Sept. 1955, W hite House Office, OSANSA, Special Assistant Series, box 1. See also memorandum by Gullion, 25 Feb. 1953, RG 59, Lot 64 D 563, box 30; paper by Troxel, 4 Mar. 1954, RG 59, Lot 57 D 298, box 5. 24. Minutes o f m eeting (H ebrew ), 30 Apr. 1953, RG 130.20, 2481/1; Shatett to Eytan (H ebrew ), 11 Apr. 1953, RG 130.02, 2414/27. See also Sharett to Ehan, 9 Mar. 1953, RG 130.02, 2450/1; address by Sharett (Het>rew), 7 Apr. 1953, RG 130.02, 2479/11; Ben-Gurion diary (H ebrew ), 30 Apr. 1953; policy paper, n.d. [c. Nov. 1953), W hitman File: Administration Series; m em orandum o f conversation by Dulles, 21 Apr. 1954, Dulles Papers, White House Memoranda Series, box 1, DDEL 25. Circular cable l>y Dulles, 24 Aug. 1955, RG 59, 684A.86. See aLso Dulles to Hoover, 12 May, 6 June 1955, Murphy to Hcxwer, 23 May 1955, FRUS, 1955-1957, 14:185-86, 199-205, 222- 26. 26. Lawson to Russell, 5 Mar., 14 May 1955, RG 59, 6H4A.86; Lawson to Dulles, 1955, RG 59. 684A.86; summary o f discussion (Hebrew), 12 Sept. 1955, RG 130.20, 2480/8; m em orandum of conversation by Bergus, 6 Sept. 1955, RG 59, 684A.86. See also Uen-Gurion Diary (H elxew ), 20 Aug. 1954; Sharett to Ehan (H elxew ), 13 Sept. 1955, Eban to Sharett, 6 S ept 1955, and Arad to Ehan (H ebrew ), 12 Sept. 1955, 130.20, 2480/8; circular cable by Sharett (H elxew ), 13 Sept. 1955, Rafael to Sharett (H ebrew ), 30 Sept. 1955, RG 130.02, 2403/14. 27. Unsigned m em orandum of conversation, 1 Nov. 1955, Whitman File: Diary Se­ ries, box 9; Dulles to Hcxwer, 12 New. 1955, RG 59, 684A.86; memorandum o f con­ versation by Bergus, 2 Dec. 1955, RG 5 9 ,684A.86. See also memorandum of conver­ sation by Bergus, 11 Oct. 1955, FRUS, 1955-1957, 14:570-76. See also intelligence digest (H ebrew ), July-A ugust 1955, RG 130.02, 2428/9; Byroade to Dulles, 18 Oct. 1955, Hcxwer to Byroade, 18 New. 1955, RG 59, 684A.86; Israeli aide memoire, 6 Dec. 1955, RG 130.02, 2414/28. 28. Unsigned policy paper, n.d. [c. New. 1953), Whitman File: Administratkxi Se­ ries. See also aide memoire by Malik, 3 Apr. 1953, RG 59, Lot 64 D 563, Ixwc 30; Green to Dulles, 13 May 1953, RG 59, 684A.86; conclusions o f conference, 14 May 1954, W hite Hcxrse Office: NSC Staff Papers, box 77, DDEL 29. M emorandum of conversation by Jones, 16 Dec. 1959, RG 59, 684A.86B; Eliav to Amon (H ebrew ), 21 May 1958, Avnon to Herzog (H elxew ), 27 July 1959, circular by Meir (H ebrew ), 18 Dec. 1958, RG 130.23, 3089/9-10; Uen-Gurion Diary (H elxew ), 7 Dec. 1958. See also Eliav to minister in Washingtcxi (H elxew ), 3 Jan. 1958, Eliav to M eroz (H elxew ), 20 Apr. 1958, Amon to Maltav (H elxew ). 12 May 1958, paper by Eliav (H elxew ), 29 Dec. 1958, RG 130.23, 3089/8-10. 30. Reinhardt to Herter, 5 July I960, FRUS, 1958-1960, 13:587-89. See also H eiter to Reid, 7 Nov. 1959, Herter to Hare, 7, 9 New. 1959, H eiter to Lcxlge, 22 July I960, RG 59, 684A.86B; Weir to Rothnie, 13 June I960, FO 371/150918; Dillon to Elsen­ how er, 25 Aug. I960, Whitman File: Dulles-Herter Series, box 11. 31. Eisenltower to Dillon, 25 Aug. I960, Whitman File: Dulles-Heiter Series, box 11; m em orandum o f conversatkxi by Hageity, 20 Sept. I960, Jones to Reinhardt, 11 Oct. I960, FRUS, 1958-1960, 13:369-72, 607-9. See also Jones to Reinlutrdt, 6 Sept. I960, m em orandum o f conversation by Brewer, 14 Sept. I960, FRUS, 1958-1960, 13:596-98, 598-600. 32. Arnon to USD (H ebrew ), 16 Sept. I960, memorandum by Cohen (Hebrew), 2 Oct. I960, Arnon to Harman (H elxew ), 6 Oct. I960, report by Gazit (Hebrew), 12 Oct. I960, RG 130.23, 3294/19; mem orandum o f conversalicxi by Hagerty, 20 Sept.

242

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I960, Whitman File: Diary Series, box 52; mem orandum of conversation hy Jones, 26 Sept. I960, Whitman File: Diary Series, lx>x 53. 33. HIKin to Dulles, 31 Jan. 1956, RCi 130.20, 2480/9; Makins to Foreign Office, 10 Sept. 1953, FO 371/104240; Rountree to Dulles, 8 June 1956, RG 5 9 ,6 11 .84A. See also memorandum o f conversation hy Grant, 10 April 1953, RG 330, CD 092 Israel; mem­ orandum of conversation l>y Elliott, 15 Nov. 1953, RG 59, Lot 57 1) 298, Ik >x 12; Kohn to Elxm, 7 Mar. 1956, RG 130.20, 2480/10. 34. M emorandum o f conversation, 10 Mar. I960, White 1Raise Office, Office o f Staff Secretary, International Series, lx>x 8, DDEL. See also JCS 1887/347, 14 Mar. 1957, RG 218, JCS Geographic File, lx>x 4, CCS EMMEA (11-19-47); Gazit to BenGurion (H elxew ), 11 Sept. 1957, RCi 130.23, 3089/8; m em orandum o f conversation hy Rountree, 12 Oct. 1957, RCi 59, 684A.86; Rountree to Mener, 20 Oct. 1958, RG 59, Lt* 60 D 580, hox 1. 35. M emorandum o f conversation l>y Ucrgus, 6 Aug. 1957, m em orandum o f conversation hy Urown, 31 Oct. 1957, FRUS, 1955-1957, 17:701-6, 784. See also memorandum o f conversation hy Uergus, 30 June 1958, RG 59, Lux 60 D 580, lx>x 1; memorandum o f conversation hy Hamilton, 26 Nov. 1958, RCi 59, Lot 61 D 12, !x>x 2; Avner to Elxin (H elxew ), 21 Dec. 1958, RG 130.23, 3088/6; Foreign Ministry paper (H elxew ), 10 Jan. I960, RG 130.23, 3294/3; llerter to Uen-Gurion, 4 Aug. I960, RG 130.23, 3294/3. 36. Reinhardt to llerter, 24 Dec. I960, Merchant to Rekl, 31 Dec. I960, FRUS, 1958-1960, 13:13=609-11, 399-400. See also m inutes o f NSC meeting, 8 Dec. I960, Herter to Reid, 9 Dec. I960, FRUS, 1958-1960, 13:391-92, 393-94; m em oranda o f con versâtkm hy G oodpaster H9 Dec. I960), 12 Jan. 1961, White House Office, Office o f tlie Staff Secretary, Internatkxial Series, lx>x 8; circular cable l>y Herter, 22 Dec. I960, White House Office, Office of Staff Secretary, International Series, lx>x 8. 37. Eylan to Levin, 23 August 1956, RG 130.02, 2409/7. See also Elxin to Meir (H e­ brew ), 1 August 1956, paper prepared fix Cabinet (H elxew ), 5 August 1956, RG 130.02, 2409/5; and Levin to Eytan, 16 August 1956, RG 1.30.02, 2409/6. 38. Minutes o f NSC meeting, 1 Nov. 1956, FRUS, 1955-1957, 16:907; Ben-Gurion to Smith, 2 Jan. 1957, Uen-Gurkxi Papers, G xrespondence File; paper hy Meroz (H e­ brew ), 6 March 1957, RG 130.23, 3088/9. See also Elsenhower to Uen-Gurion, 7 Nov. 1956, W hitman File: Intem atkm al Series, lx>x 29, DDEL; Uen-Gurion to Elsenhower, 8 Feb. 1957, Uen-Gurion Papers, G xresptxidence File; Arad to USD (H ebrew ), 16 Novemlxx 1956, RG 130.20, 2480/11; Ben-Gurion Diary (H ebrew ), 24 Novemlier 1956; Hertzog to Herlitz, 15 Novemlxx 1956, RG 130.23, 3107/1; circular cable by Ey­ tan (Hebrew), 23 Novemlxx 1956, RG 130.20, 2480/11; and Levin to Herzog, 1 March 1957, RG 130.23, 3088/9. 39. M emtxandum o f conversation by Grxxlpaster, 24 July 1958, Whitman File: Diary Series, lx>x 35; m inutes o f NSC meeting, 21 Aug. 1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12:154-56. 40. Hwer, 23 July 1958, ihkl., 98-100; “Memorandum o f DLscusskm at die 37*111) Meeting o f tlie National Security Council,” 31 July 1958, ihkl., 12*1-34 (quotalkm on p. 1271; NSC 5820/1, 4 November 1958, ilikl., 187-99 U|ik nation on p. 190|. 14. See Uatatu, O ld Social Classes a n d the Revolutionary M ovements o f Iraq, 815-32; Marr, M odem History o f Iraq, 159-61; Kliatkluri, Ripublican Iraq, 86-98; Farouk-Sluglett and Sluglett, Iraq since 1958, 52-60; Tripp, A History o f Iraq, 148-53; and Dann, Iraq uruler Qassem, 77-90. See also Gumming to Dulles, 5 Novemlier 1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 351-52. 15. Uatatu, Old Social Classes a n d the Revolutionary M ovements o f Iraq, 827. 16. On tlie Rashkl Ali plot, see Kliadduri, Republican Iraq, 100-104; Tripp, A His­ tory o f Iraq, 156; Farouk-Sluglett and Sluglett, Iraq since 1958, 60-62; Uatatu, O ld So­ cial Classes a n d the Revolutionary M ovements o f Iraq, 831-33; Marr, H istory o f Mod­ e m Iraq, 161-62; Dann, Iraq under Qassem, 127-35; and Jankowski, Nasser's Egypt, Arab Nationalism , a n d the United Arab Republic, 152. See also Gumming to Dulles, 25 November 1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 353-54. 17. Memorandum o f a conference with tlie presklent, 23 Decemlier 1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 13: 509-11; telegram from tlie embassy in Iraq to tlie Departm ent o f State, 16 Decem lier 1958, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 361-62. See also Rountree to Dulles, 27 Decem lier 1958, ihkl., 200-4. 18. “M emorandum o f DLscusskm at the 391st Meeting o f tlie NatRmal Security Gouncil,” 18 Decem lier 1958, ihkl., 363-64; Rountree to Dillon, 22 Decem lier 1958, ibkl., 368-71; “M emorandum o f DLscusskm at the 393rd Meeting o f the National Se­ curity Council,” 15 January 1958, ihkl., 375-77. See also “Implicatkias o f the Contest for Iraq,” Central Intelligence Agency Oftice o f Nalkmal Estimates, 26 January 1959, CP Iraq, Philip Malta's Files (5), Uox 4, Special Staff File Series, NSC Staff Papers, DDEL. 19. Nasser’s Speeches, 19.59, 152; “M emorandum o f Discusskin at tlie 402nd Meet­ ing o f the Natkmal Security Gouncil,” 17 April 1959, FR1JS, 1958-1960, 12: 423. See also Special Natkmal Intelligence Estimate, “Tlie CommunLst Threat to Iraq,” 21 April 1959, ihkl., 439-40; and “M emorandum of DLscusskm at tlie 399th M eeting o f tlie Na­ tkmal Security Council,” 12 March 1959, Uox 11, NSC Series, Dwight D. Eisenhower, Papers as President of tlie United States (Ann C. Whitman File) (hereafter ACW), DDEL. O n tlie Mosul revolt, see Uatatu, Old Social Classes a n d Revolutiorutry Move­ m ents o f Irai/, 866-89; Farouk-Sluglett and Sluglett, Iraq since 1 9 5 8 ,66-70; Kliadduri, Republican Iraq, 10-1-12; Marr, History o f M odem Iratj, 162-63; and Jankowski, Nasser’s Egypt, Arab Nationalism , a n d the United Arab Republic, 153-54. See also “Mukm al-irhab fi Uaghdad" (the reign of terror in Uaghdad], and “Qasim al-lraq” (Qasim /the divider o f Iraqi, 12 March 1959, al-Ahram , pp. 1, 3, 5. 20. Gray to Heiter, 3 April 1959, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 410 Tlie reference to covert actkm is excised from the docum ent as it appears in FRUS, Ixit tlie full text appears in an uncensored version provided to tlie author by die U.S. State Departm ent in lespon.se to a Freedom of Informatkm Act request. See also paper by Gray, 1 April 1959, ihkl., 401-2; Uriefing Note for March 12 NSC Meeting, 11 March 1959, CP Iraq, Philip Malta's Files (5>, Uox 4, Special Staff File Se­ ries, NSC Staff Papers, DDEL; memo o f m eeting with tlie president, 18 April 1959. Meetings with President 1959 (3), Uox 4, Presidential Sutiseries, Special AssLstant Se-

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ries, W hite House Office, Office o f the Special Assistant for National Security Affairs, Records 1952-1961, DDEL; memo o f m eeting with the president, 24 April 1959, il>id.; and Halla to Gray, 8 November I960, CP Iraq, Philip Halla’s Files (1), Uox 4, Special Staff File Series, NSC Staff Papers, DDEL 21. See Rountree to Dillon, 20 May 1959, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 456-58; memo­ randum by Halla, 1 June 1959, ibid., 460-63; memorandum for the record, 8 June 1959, ibid., 466-69; “The Situation in Iraq - Comments and Q uestions (Following For­ m at o f State Paper),” 16 April 1959, CP Iraq, Philip Halla’s Files (5), Uox 4, Special Staff File Series, NSC Staff Papers, DDEL; Halla to Boggs, 10 September 1959, CP Iraq, Philip Halla's Files (3), ibid. 22. Letter to tlie autltor from the CIA Information and Privacy Coordinator, 22 April 2003. See also n. 20, above. 23. Richard Sale’s article, “Saddam Key in Early CIA Plot,” 10 April 2003, can be found at . In ad­ dition to unnam ed officials, Sale cites Adel DarwLsh, co-author o f Unholy Babylon: The Secret History o f Saddam ’s VF«r(New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1991), w hose pub­ lished account of tire assassination plot focuses on tire role o f tire (JAR, rallier titan the CIA (pp. 22-23). Sale also mistakenly refers to “Qasim’s ruling Uaath Party.” Qasim was not a Ba’thist. Certain statem ents by Sale appear to conflate tlte failed 1959 assassination attem pt with the successful Ua’tlilst coup in 1963- For a similar argu­ m ent that focuses on the U.S. role in the Balhists’ 1963 overthrow o f Qasim, see Roger Morris, “A Tyrant Forty Years in die Making,” New York Times, 14 March 2003, p. 29. Not surprisingly, Saddam 's official biography also ascrilies great historical im­ portance to his role in the assassinatkm attem pt. See the summary in Kanan Makiya, Republic o f Fear: The Politics o f M odem Iraq (Berkeley, CA: University o f California Press, 1998), 118. 24. For reference to intelligence reports about the Rashid 'Ali plot, the Mosul re­ volt, and die assassination attem pt, see “M emorandum o f Discussion at die 393rd M eeting o f die Natkmal Security Council,” 15 January 1959, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 375-77; “Synopsis o f State and Intelligence material reported to the President,” 27 and 28 February 1959, Briefings February 1959, Box 39, DDE Diary Series, ACW, DDEL; and FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 489 n. 6. For references to ‘Alxli, see memoranda o f meet­ ings o f Special Committee on Iraq, 24 Septem ber and 22 O ctober 1959, CP Iraq, Philip Halla’s Files (2), Uox 4, Special Staff File Series, NSC Staff Papiers, DDEL; and FRUS, 1958-1960,12: 396,478,495,498, 505. O n ‘Alxli’s role following die attack on Qasim, see Batatu, Old Social do sses a n d the Revolutionary M ovements o f Iraq, 932; and Khadduri, Republican Iraq, 130. 25. Halla to Boggs, 10 Septem ber 1959, CP Iraq, Philip Halla’s Files (3), Box 4, Spe­ cial Staff File Series, NSC Staff Papiers, DDEL; memorandum o f Meeting o f Special Committee on Iraq, 24 Septemlier 1959, CP Iraq, Philip Halla’s Files (2), ibid. For CIA references to UAR activities in Iraq, see memo by CIA Office o f N atkiral Estimates (Kent), “Possible Developm ents in Iraq,” 21 Septem lier 1959, CP Iraq, Pliilip Halla’s Files (3), ibid.; and CIA to Jones, 13 O ctober 1959, CP Iraq, Philip Halla’s Files (2), ibid. The possibility also exists o f multifile plots against Qasim. The Iraqi Ba’thist Fu’ad al-Rikabi, w ho helped to plan die failed am bush on O ctolier 7, w rote in his memoirs that die timing o f die attack was determ ined in part by rumors o f an im pending

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attem pt on Qasim 's life hacked l>y Jordan's Kinj; Hussein, a plot al-Rikalii character­ izes as “reactionary." See Fu’ad al-Kikala, Al-bull ul-au'bad I'll it* sole solutionl, (Cairo: n.p., 1963), 65-66. During die 1970s, (lie Church Committee found evidence o f a I960 CIA plan to mail a poisoned handkerchief to a pro-communist Iraqi cokmel. '11k*officer may lu v e lieen Qasiin's cousin, Fadil ‘AMxis al-Malidawi. See Senate Select (à munitlee to Study Gov­ ernm ental O perations with Respect to Intelligence Activities (Church Committee), In ­ terim Report: Alleged Assassination Mots Invoking Foreign Leaders, p. 181, n. 1. 26. “M emorandum of Discussion at the 402nd Meeting o f (lie National Security Council," 17 April 1939, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 423-37 Iquotation on p. 4261; m em o­ randum o f m eeting 1 Special Committee o n Iraq, 24 Septem lier 1959, Cl* Iraq, Philip Malta's Files (2), Uox 4, Special Staff File Series, NSC Staff Papers, DDEL; m em o by llalla of Meeting o f tlie Special Committee on Iraq, 27 April 1959, CP Iraq, Philip Halla’s Files (5), ibid.; and llalla to Hoggs, 10 Septemlier 1959, CP Iraq, Philip llalla’s Files (3), ibkl. See also paper prepared in the Department of State, “The Situation in Iraq," 15 April 1959, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 414-22; and llalla to Lay, 26 O ctober 1959, CP Imq, Philip Malta’s Files (2), Uox 4, Special Staff File Series, NSC Staff Papers, DDEL 27. M emorandum for the record by Halla, 1 June 1959, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 460-63; editorial note, ibid., 449-51; and Nasser's Speeches, 1959, 285. See also “Turkey Supports Qasim in Struggle with UAR," 20 March 1959, CP Iraq, Philip tlalla’s Files (5), Uox 4, Special Staff File Series, NSC Staff Papers, DDEL; and Jankow ski, Nasser’s Egypt, Arab Nationalism , a n d the United Arab Republic, 154. 28. M emorandum by Reinhardt, 22 March 1959, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 217-18. See also editorial note, ibid., 216; “M emorandum of Discusskm at tlte 393rd Meeting o f tlie National Security Council,” 15 January 1959, ibkl., 375-77; Ashton, Eisenhower, M acm illan, a n d the Problem o f Nasser, 196; and minute by foreign secretary, 5 May 1959, CAH 128/33 CC28(4), Records o f tlie Cabinet Office, Uritish Public Record Office, Kew, England thereafter PRO|. 29. The most nuanced account o f Kirkuk is Uatatu, O ld Social Classes a n d Revo­ lutionary M ovetnenis o f Iran, 912-21 |qun and the Iraqi communists, see Uatatu, Old So­ cial Classes arul Revolutionary M oventents o f Iraq, 903. In 1963, Chinese com m unist leader Deng Xiaoping criticized tlie Soviets for taking an “un-revolutkm ary line" to ­ w ard communism in Iraq that led to “serious failures and defeat.” See Cokl War In ­ ternational H istory Project Bulletin 10 (March 1998): 180. 30. See Uatatu, O ld Social Classes a n d the Revolutionary M ovements o f Iraq, 847; Report by tlie Presklent’s Special Assistant for Natkmal Security Affairs, 18 March 1960, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 509-10. 31. Ibid., 189. 32. See Daniel Yergin, The Prize: The Epic Q uestfo r Oil, Money, a n d Power {N ew York: Simon and Schuster, 1992), 514-16; ami Nathan J. Cilino, From Arab N ation­ alism to OPEC: Eisenhower, King S a ’ud, a n d the M aking o f U.S.-Saudi Relations (H loom ington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2002), 150-56. See also FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 214-15.

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33. See “Fact Paper o n Oil Imports,” 23 February 1959, Staff Notes, February 1959 (1), Box 39, ODE Diary Series, ACW, DDEL; Notes on Legislative Leadership Meeting, 24 Felxuary 1959, ibid.; and Elsenhower's diary entry for 3 March 1959, in The Eisen­ how er Diaries, ed. Rotiert H. Ferrell (New York: W.W. Norton and Co., 1981), 361-62. See also Stephen Amlxose, Elsenhower, vol. 2, The President (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1984), 446-47. 34. Ministry of Fuels and Power note to tlx; prime minister, 4 May 1959, FO 371/141208, Political Correspondence o f the Foreign Office, PRO; “Middle East Oil Concession Problem s,” 11 May I960, “US-UK—Tlx; Prolilem o f tlx; Use of Military Force to Maintain Access to Middle East Oil, Ramsey’s Commission,” Box 23, Records o f the Com ponent Offices o f tlx; Bureau of Economic Affairs, 1941-1963, Lot 64 D 69, Record G roup 59, G eneral Records o f the Departm ent o f State, National Archives and Records Adminlstratkin, College Park, MD. 35. O n Iraqi-IPC negotiations, see Marr, M odem History o f Iraq, 173-74. On OPEC, see Yergin, The Prize, 519-23. 36. “M emorandum o f Discussion at the 460th Meeting o f the Natkxial Security Council,” 21 Septem lxx I960, FRUS, 1958-1960, 12: 275-77. O n the regkxtal conse­ quences o f OPEC see Citino, From Arab Nationalism to OPEC, 155-56, 162-63. See also Roger O wen and Sevket Pamuk, A History o f M iddle East Economies in the 71ventietb Century (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999), 222-24; and Charles Issawi, A n Econom ic History o f the M iddle East a n d North Africa (New Ytxk: M ethuen, 1982), 202-09. 37. Batatu, O ld Social Classes a n d Revolutionary M ovements o f Iraq, 843. 38. Strong to Talbcx, 24 July 1961, FRUS, 1961-1962, 17: 197-98. See also Kerr, A rab Cold War, 20; Marr, M odem History o f Iraq, 180-81; Tripp, History o f Iraq, 165-67; Ovendale, Transfer o f Power in the M iddle East, 216-41; Miriam Joyce, Kuwait, 1945-1996: A n Anglo-Am erican Perspective (Portland, OR: Frank Cass, 1998), 52-56, 105; and Elie Podeh, “'Suez in Reverse’: Tlx; Arab Response to tlx; Iraqi Bkl fix' Kuwait, 1961-1963," D iplom acy & Statecraft 14 (March 2003): 103-30. Nasser contrasted tlx; “unity” he claimed was the Ixisis fix the UAR with Qasim's attem pted “annexatk>n” o f Kuwait. See “Ra'yna ft azma al-Kuwait” (Our view o f tlx; Kuwait cri­ sis], al-Abram , 28 June 1961, p. 1. 39. Farouk-Sluglett and Sluglett, Iraq since 1958, 85. See ibid., 297 n. 3; and Batatu, Old Social Classes a n d the Revolutionary M ovements o f Iraq, 985-86.

Conclusion The Devil Is in the Details: Eisenhower, Dulles, and the Third W orld D avid L. Anderson

In his 1973 book, The Devil a n d John Foster Dulles, Townsend Hoopes por­ trayed Dwight Eisenhower’s first secretary of state as demonizing America’s communist adversaries and turning U.S. foreign policy into a set of moral im­ peratives.1 In the essays in this volume, reflecting the advances in under­ standing of Elsenhower’s presidency over the past three decades, Dulles and his Eisenhower administration colleagues receive a much more informed and nuanced treatment than Hoopes provided. When it comes to the Third World, however, details in places that did not fit well with global U.S. strategy cer­ tainly bedeviled American leaders in the 1950s. During and after the Korean War, global containment—the exteasion to Asia, Africa, Latin America, and the Middle East of a policy meant to counter the spread of communism in Europe—formed the basis of America’s strategic plaas. When Elsenhower took the oath of office in January 1953, a policy of containing the power and influence of the Soviet Union was in place. The growing Soviet nuclear arse­ nal and the size of Soviet ground forces in Eastern Europe had created a di­ rect standoff that led both sides to worry increasingly about their strategic flanks outside of Europe. In October 1953 in NSC 162/2, the new Republican administration had secredy articulated ils so-called New Look strategy with a complex range of methods to combat communist expansionism. Covert op­ erations and regional alliances were part of this plan, but the threat of Amer­ ica’s air-atomic power—o r "massive retaliation” as Dulles himself termed it— gave the New Look its public identity. In January 1955 the National Security Council revisited the New Look and, in NSC 5501, sought to create further flexibility. Added were the pursuit of negotiations and the development of 271

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limited warfare capabilities for those “gray areas” on the periphery of SoviclAmerican rivalry where massive retaliation was less credible.2 These essays reveal Ik >w the Eisenhower administration struggled with the difficulty of implementing containment in situatioas other than overt Soviet military aggression. A revealing example of this challenge is found in the minutes of the August 12, 1954, National Security Council meeting. One agenda item that day was a new policy statement for Indochina in the wake of the Geneva agreements completed in July that had given international sanction to a communist regime in North Vietnam. Farts of the policy fell readily into place: creating a regional defense alliance (which soon became the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization or SEATO) and providing economic and military aid to South Vietnam. The council’s discussion ground to a vir­ tual halt, however, on the paragraph entitled “Action in the Event of Local Subversion,” which sought to articulate a policy “to defeat local Communist subversion or rebellion which does not constitute external armed attack.” Eisenhower admitted that he was “frankly puzzled,” and the council deferred the item to the next meeting.3 At the following NSC meeting on August 18, Secretary of State Dulles pre­ sented a draft paragraph on local subversion that listed several options but no “automatic commitment” to any one of them. The president declared that he was not interested in “strictly local” subversion unless it was “the result of Chinese Communist motivation." According to the minutes, Vice President Richard Nixon pointed out that many observers considered the Indochinese communist leader Ho Chi Minh to be a Soviet, not a Chinese agent. With what one can envision as a wave of the hand, Elsenhower responded that “of course if the Soviet Union were the motivating source of subversion, it would mean general war.”4 The president’s response reveals a great deal. Local issues did not reach the level of importance to U.S. interests to risk general war, but the adminis­ tration was not prepared to accept a Soviet communist success anywhere. A large part of the difficulty in fashioning specific measures to remedy local­ ized instability that threatened U.S. interests was a lack of White House ap­ preciation of Third World nationalism. As the preceding chapters have shown, the president and his aides were not oblivious to anti-colonialism and nationalism and frequently discussed it. In these conversations, how­ ever, there was often a profound lack of positive ideas to address the specific social, cultural, economic, and historical aspiratioas of the peoples of Asia, Africa, Latin America, and the Middle East. Colonel Edward Laasdale referred derisively to Washington officials in the Stale and Defease Departments in the 1950s as the “big picture” boys. Al­ though those same officials often characterized Laasdale as a “CIA cowboy” or a “loose cannon,” this covert operative, whose exploits in the Philippines and Vietnam were a legend in his own time, had a point. The world looked

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very different from Manila or Saigon or Baghdad or La Paz than from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Lansdale had acquired an instinctive sense of the per­ ils America confronted when dealing with revolutionary nationalists. As­ signed to duty in the Pentagon as a specialist on covert operations, he man­ aged to absent himself from Washington on a fact-finding trip to Vietnam in December I960, so that later he could not be blamed in any way lor plan­ ning of the disaster he saw coming shortly in Cuba at the Bay of Pigs. The details that concerned Third World leaders and Americaas like Lansdale, who worked directly with them, often remained out of focus in the “big picture.”5 The central themes of containment and anti-colonialism recur frequently in these essays on Elsenhower’s policies in the Third World. Cold War Issues are often apparent in the form of geopolitical strategy or ideological arguments. The legacy of empire for former colonies and for former imperial powers alike permeates the discussion. For the United States, the dilemma was often how to encourage the nationalist aspirations for independence and selfrealization of former subject peoples while maintaining essential strategic al­ liances with European colonial powers in order to balance the military and political threat of the Soviet Union. Intertwined with this dilemma Is the Issue of cukural and often racial differences between the people of the Third World and the majority of the people of Nonh America and Europe. The connecting them e of these studies Is disconnection. That is, the Eisenhower administration necessarily varied its global responses depend­ ing on regional differences, but it was not able to connect its central con­ tainm ent strategy for protecting the North Atlantic core to ils tactical re­ sponses to the challenges to U.S. interests in peripheral areas. Indeed, from the American perspective, there were fundamental contradictions betw een containm ent and anti-colonialism. As Kenneth Osgood notes, W ashington often turned to psychological warfare in the Third World because officials understood that reliance on nuclear or conventional military deterrence, w hich formed the cornerstone of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization’s defense of Europe, was not always feasible or credible outside Europe. The w ords that American propagandists used to attem pt to win goodwill and cooperation did not always match the deeds. The language could not rec­ oncile the differences betw een the aspirations of postcolonial people and the economic and political needs of the United States and of the form er colonial masters whose security rem ained critical to American interests. For the United States, this rhetorical gap seem ed especially great in the area of race. It was difficult for U.S. officials to claim common cause with people of color around the world as globally publicized events in Montgomery, Alabama, and Little Rock, Arkansas, exposed ugly realities of discrimina­ tion in American society. Similarly, John Prados’s essay demonstrates how the archetypical Cold War creation, the CIA, spawned by the contest for

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political pow er in Europe, tvas misused in covert operations in the Third World. W hereas psychological warfare efforts were often unconvincing, the Eisenhower adm inistration’s covert operations actually retarded decol­ onization, in Prados’s view, and created much long-lasting ill will. Equally problematic, according to Michael Adamson, was the lack of U.S. aid to the Third World. American officials embraced the idea of aid programs to counter the communist threat in Third World countries, but in practice they continued to favor private investment and trade as the best means to pro­ mote econom ic developm ent. Robert McMahon’s analysis of U.S. policy in Indonesia emphasizes con­ tainment and the American Cold War fixation on the PKI, Indonesia’s Communist Party. Like Prados, he cites the exaggerated faith of the U.S. administration in covert operations and like other contributors highlights the American failure to understand and adapt to nationalism. When it comes to the PK1, however, he notes that the Eisenhower team also labored under badly mistaken illusions about condilioas in Indonesia and woeful and ide­ ologically biased intelligence. A combination of ignorance and confidence led to some incredible risk taking by American policymakers. Another sharp indictment of the Eisenhower administration’s Cold War myopia is Kathryn Statler's assessment of policies toward Vietnam. Using French diplomatic documents, she shows how the growing Eisenhower ad­ ministration commitment to the survival of the Ngo Dinh Diem regime in South Vietnam was, in part, a case of the tail (Diem) wagging the dog (the United States). The French sources also depict a United Slates determined to replace France in Indochina and to bring American values and culture to the region. In fact, she characterizes American “nation building” as a variant of the former “civilizing mission” of the French colonialists. South Vietnam be­ came, in effect, an American colony, a coasequence that Diem dkl not de­ sire. There is little emphasis in the French documents on containment or the communist ideology of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam. It may be lliat containment was so obvious in American policy as to require little analysis or that French diplomatic observers were more fascinated by the neocolonial than the anti-communist nature of American behavior. In her study of policies toward Taiwan, Yi Sun describes the White House as more cautious than the image of the administration in the examples of In­ donesia and Vietnam. During the two crises over Taiwan, the administration was clearly trying to avoid general war with China. She sees a penchant for recklessness, however, in the political rhetoric of Secretary Dulles that con­ veyed the possible use of nuclear weapons. Taiwan is the one case among these essays in which Dulles himself directly connected the administration’s “massive retaliation” threat to the Third World. Because the Taiwan example is exceptional, it serves to illustrate the basic disconnection between the nu­ clear deterrent of the New Look and Third World policies.

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Dulles figures prominently in the analysis of the Taiwan policies, and the personal imprint of administration leaders, including racial bias, is also ap­ parent in the essays on Africa and the Bandung Conference. Clearly the will­ ingness to accept white-minority rule in Africa or to support dictatorial “strongmen," as James Meriwether details, in the name of protecting Ameri­ can Cold War interests was not unlike some of the other U.S. compromises in the Third World between supporting nationalism and giving precedence to geopolitics. The domestic history of the Elsenhower administration on race, such as the president’s tepid response to the Supreme Court’s landmark school desegregation decision, reveals a group of leaders who lacked un­ derstanding of the significance of discrimination. Eisenhower had only one African American on his White House staff, E. Frederick Morrow. His status was so low that one of his respoasibilities was assigning parking spaces. In commenting on the administration’s lack of enforcement of the desegrega­ tion ruling, Morrow recalled that the president and his closest aides simply did not understand “how deeply aggrieved black Americaas felt.”6 In speak­ ing with friends, Eisenhower himself used some of the common expressions of prejudice heard among white Americans. Jason Parker argues that Washington took the Bandung Conference seri­ ously but missed an opportunity to encourage postcolonial states. The ad­ ministration was aware of the anti-colonialism and race sensitivity of the delegates. Parker notes that Americans had their own anti-colonial heritage. The Elsenhower administration’s anti-colonialism, however, was less akin to Thomas Jefferson's declaration of human equality and more to what histo­ rian Lloyd Gardner lias described as American defease of liberal capitalism against European spheres of interest.7 It Is appropriate to note, as do Parker, Meriwether, and Osgood, the emerging consciousness of racial inequality in America. Elsenhower’s ordering of federal intervention in Little Rock reveals that evolution, but his motives were mixed in that case as he was more con­ cerned with a challenge to federal authority and less with the rights of black students. There was a significant subtext in the administration’s limited abil­ ity to understand the racial dimensions of neutralist sentiments at Bandung. Parker identifies Assistant Secretary of State for East Asian Affairs Walter Robertson as one of those officials who was fearful of neutralism. Robertson was one of the most extreme anti-communists in the State Department’s up­ per ranks. British statesman Anthony Eden wrote that Robertson was so emotional when it came to Asian communism that he was “impervious to ar­ gum ent or indeed to facts.”8 Furthermore, Robertson was a Richmond, Vir­ ginia, investment banker, not a career diplomat, whom journalists described as a man of “solid Southern conservatism.”9 This Elsenhower administration official w ho had principal responsibility for Asian policy in the State Depart­ m ent was singularly ill-equipped to understand the racial and ideological sig­ nificance of Bandung.

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James Siekmeicr’s investigation of Elsenhower’s policies in Bolivia strikes some parallels with Slatler’s discussion of Vietnam policy. Like the Diem gov­ ernment, the MNR (Movimiento Nacionallsta Revolutionario) right wing wanted large amounts of (J.S. aid to maintain its own power. The nature of that assistance—food, oil privatization, and currency stabilization—hampered eco­ nomic diversification, however, and produced a form ofAmerican neocolonial­ ism. Containment of communism seems to have lieen almost a nonissue in Bolivia. 11k * role of Milton Elsenhower in helping get akl started to Bolivia Is notable because overall the personal involvement of the president and top administration officials in Bolivian policy Is not nearly as evident as their par­ ticipation in Asian policymaking. With regard to the Middle East, the essays in this lxx>k reveal how the Elsenhower administration was managing the Cold War and Arab national­ ism but was not resolving the dilemmas they presented. Iraq in the mid1950s presented the choice between identification and support of national­ ism or keeping good relatioas with America’s major European allies, who w ere the former colonial powers east of Suez. American officials w ere not consistent on the amount of deference given to the Europeans, however. In Vietnam they shouldered aside the French, but in Iraq they encouraged con­ tinued British involvement. As had occurred at Bandung, Washington was not overlooking nationalism in the Middle East but simply failed to respond to it effectively. Both the British and llie Iraqis had their own agendas that the United States had to recognize.10Similarly, the Arab cold war that Nathan Citino describes prevented the Middle East from being united and enabled the United States to play divide and conquer. But, again, it was a political en­ vironment that Washington could only hope to manage, not own. Peter Hahn dispels the notion of a special U.S.-Israel relationship. Despite American public and political sentiment in support of Israel’s political survival, coastant teasions, especially over competing definitions of security, continually plagued policymakers. The United States had no historically de­ fined interests that compelled it to choose sides in an Aralvlsraeli conflict. Throughout the Eisenhower years, it remained vital that the United States preserve access to strategic liases and resources in the Middle East and deny that same access to the Soviet Union. In that regard, the region resembled Central Europe and differed from East Asia and Latin America as places of di­ rect U.S.-Soviet confrontation. In general, the essays in this book find the Eisenhower administration's policies in the Third World to be less than iaspired. They reveal that U.S. of­ ficials often had limited, faulty, or biased knowledge of conditioas in post­ colonial and developing areas. They conclude that U.S. policy could often lie self-serving and self-defeating. They detect an awareness of nationalist aspiratioas for respect and self-determination, but this iasight by top officials did not coasistently translate into acceptance or support of those postcolonial as-

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pirations. American decision makers’ cultural, ideological, and historical pre­ conceptions, their calculations of America’s national security interests and econom ic requirements, and their historical affinities that prevailed over those of the newly emeiging states ultimately impeded sound U.S. policy. In finding flaws in Eisenhower’s policies in the Third World, these authors continue the trend in historical assessments erf his presidency that character­ izes Elsenhower as a capable chief executive hut one of limited global vision. Townsend Hoopes’s simplistic good-and-evil characterization of Dulles’s worldview is an example of many early writings that gave Eisenhower and his aides little credit for an ability to devise effective policies. As the presi­ dential archives became available over time, a complex picture of policy for­ mation, such as these essays detail, generated greater respect for the presi­ d en t’s executive leadership. Biographers and historians known as revisionists gave Eisenhower considerable praise, especially for recognizing and avoiding the danger of nuclear confrontation with the Soviet Union in a politically divided Europe. In the usual practice of historians, these positive evaluations have led to critiques of the revisionists’ work by other scholars, such as Robert McMahon and Stephen Rabe, who point out the often violent threats to peace that continued throughout the 1930s in the world beyond Europe. From the evidence marshaled by revisionists and their critics, a postrevisionist consensus emerged that gave Eisenhower credit for being “realis­ tic and statesmanlike” while also failing to lessen Soviet strength in Eastern Europe or to diminish communist influence in the Middle East, Southeast Asia, and the Carilrf>ean.u There was an earthquake rumbling throughout the world in the middle of the twentieth century, and it was not the ideological clash between Marxist collectivism and capitalist democracy. It was the glohal upheaval triggered by nationalist desires for independence from colonial domination and the desire of the people in the former colonies to escape the weight of poverty. From calculatioas of their nations’ own security interests, Eisenhower and Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev set out to try to win the Third Wortd. With mounting nuclear arsenals, the superpowers perceived the dangers of direct confrontation. Eisenhower continued nuclear deterrence as a cornerstone of his New Look strategy, but he turned also to covert operations, military as­ sistance programs, and regional defease alliances or “pacts.” Khrushchev pursued a space program to challenge America’s air-atomic power and to counter the proliferation of pacts around all sides of the Soviet Union, but it was his encouragement of wars of national liberation that defined his strat­ egy for the Third World. Elsenhower knew that the United States had the ability to compete with the Soviet Union in weapons technology, but the So­ viet courting of nationalist revolutionaries posed a different challenge. Elsen­ how er had inherited a pattern of American policymaking in which the United States had frequently opposed revolutioas in the name of stability, a

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rhetorical cover for the tantamount U.S. interest in a predictable and open world economic order.12 In the spirit of 1776, Eisenhower, Dulles, and other American leaders understood the emotional appeal of independence and also welcomed for practical commercial reasons the demise of colonial spheres of economic influence. They desired managed change in the Third World, however, for fear that radicalism played into the hands of Moscow’s liberation rhetoric and created a dangerous threat to American interests. Eisenhower’s Democratic successors, John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson, relied heavily on crisis management in the Itiird World. Aiguably Kennedy first failed to avert a crisis over Cuba at the Bay of Pigs and then successfully managed the crisis over Soviet missiles in Cuba. In the process he set an ex­ ample that prompted Johnson to treat Vietnam as a crisis like Cuba when, in fact, the conflict in Vietnam was part of a long-term change process requir­ ing a different kind of management.13 In contrast, Eisenhower treated the po­ litical and social unrest in the Third World as a case of change management. Effective change management requires setting attainable goals based upon accurate information, developing a plan of discrete steps that allows for can­ did measurement of success in terms of the goals, and adjusting tactics and even objectives as circumstances evolve. In attempting to manage the earth­ quake, the Elsenhower administration did not set attainable goals. Preoccu­ pied with the Soviet threat in Europe and influenced by historical affinity with Europeans, American officials lacked appreciation of nonwhite cultures in die Third World and did not understand or even distorted vital details of local conditioas that were central to effective policy direction. Definitions of suc­ cess often liecame simple qnesdoas of are they widi us or agaiast as or calculations of immediate economic payoffs without long-term investment. The Elsenhower administration placed a strategic value on the countries examined in this volume based upon global coasiderations. Washington’s positions on such Issues as economic development and neutralism were the product of the correlation of U.S. interests with those of America’s European allies (the former colonial powers) and of calculations of how to respond to the danger to U.S. security posed by the Soviet military threat to Western Eu­ rope. The management of change, which was often resistance to change, had few if any goals defined in tenas of 'lliird World details. The aspirations for independence and economic justice that figured heavily in the life of that region were at times acknowledged but were left largely unarticulated in U.S. policy. Without clear goals, success or failure was hard to measure and ad­ justments to course were difficult to make. Eisenhower titled die first volume of his memoirs M andate fo r Change, but the United States often was not an instrument of change in die lliird World. His second volume was called Waging Peace, which suggests that his administration did not allow pressures for change, such as Soviet ambitioas in Europe or revolutionary upheavals outside Europe, to involve the United

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Slates in war. In the following decade in Cuba, Vietnam, Israel, and else­ w here, pressure for change brought war and violence that directly endan­ gered or engulfed the United States. When an earthquake will occur cannot usually be predicted, but that it will likely happen in a certain place can be known if the detailed data is carefully monitored. Efforts can be made to minimize the damage when the upheaval comes in those places. The change management of the 1950s did not prevent the earthquakes from coming to the Third World in the 1960s. In fact, the inability to manage and prepare for change contributed to the resort to crisis management in the 1960s.

NOTES 1. Townsend Hcx>pes, The D evil a n d John Foster D ulles (Boston: Little, Brown, 1973). 2. John Lewis Gaddis, Strategies o f C ontainm ent: A Critical Appraisal o f Postwar A m erican N ational Security Policy (New York: Oxford University Press, 1982), 149-51; David L Anderson, Trapped by Success: The Eisenhower A dm inistration a n d Vietnam, 1953-1961 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1991), 21, 139-40. 3. National Security Council minutes, August 12, 1954, Foreign Relations o f the U nited States, 1952-1954, vol. 12, East Asia a n d the Pacific (W ashington, DC: Gov­ ernm ent Printing Office, 1984), 728-30. 4. National Security Council minutes, August 18, 1954, box 6, NSC series, Ann W hitman File, Dwight D. Eisenhower Papers, Dwight D. Eisenhower Library, Abi­ lene, KS. 5. Edward Geary Lansdale, In the M idst o f Wars: A n Atnerican's Mission to Southeast Asia (New York: Harper & Row, 1972), 203; Anderson, Trapped by Success, 194-96. 6. Cllester J. Pach and Elmo RRiiardson, The Presidency o f D wigbt D. Eisen­ hower, rev. ed. (Lawrence: University Press o f Kansas, 1991), 144. 7. Lloyd Gardner, Approaching Vietnam: From World War II through D ienhienp b u (New York: Norton, 1988), 344-47. 8. Foster Rhea Dulles, Am erican Foreign Policy tow ard C om m unist China, 1949-1969 (New York: Crowell, 1972), 135. 9. E. J. Kahn, Jr., The China Hands: Am erica ’s Foreign Service Officers a n d W bat Befell Them (New York: Viking Press, 1975), 159. 10. Daniel Williamson, “U nderstandable Failure: The Eisenllower Administration's Policy tow ard Iraq, 1953-58," paper presented at tlie “Eisenllower and the Third World" «inference, University o f San Diego, March 2003. 11. William B. Pickett, D wigbt D avid Eisenhower a n d Am erican Power (W heeling, IL Harlan Davidson, 1995), 136-37. 12. Walter LaFeher, Am erica, Russia, a n d the Cold War, 1945-2002, updated 9th ed. (Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2004), 158. 13. Lloyd C. Gardner, Pay A n y Price: Lyndon Johnson a n d the Warsfo r Vietnam (Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 1995), 42-43.

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Tony Smith, in his tall 2000 Diplomatic History article, entitled “New Bottles for New Wine: A Pericentric Framework for the Study of the Cold War,” called for more study of how junior actors in the international system con­ tributed to “blocking, moderating, and ending” as well as “expanding, inten­ sifying, and prolonging” the Cold War. This volume takes Smith’s plea to heart as the contributors assess the intersection of decolonization and the Cold War in places as varied as Indonesia, Vietnam, China, Ghana, die Congo, South Africa, Israel, Iran, Iraq, Syria, Egypt, Bolivia, and Guatemala. The essays contribute to our understanding of the multifaceted and complex nature of the conflict and the significant role played by actors outside of Washington and Moscow during the 1950s. Recendy published compilations, comparable in scope, include Empire a n d Revolution: The United States a n d the Third WorUl since 1945, eds., Pe­ ter Hahn and Mary Ann Helss (Columbus: Ohio State, 2001), The United States a n d Decolonization: Power a n d Freedom, eds. David Ryan and Victor Pungong (New York: St. Martin's Press, 2000), and Lyndon Johnson Con­ fro n ts the World: American Foreign Policy, 1963-1968, eds., Warren Cohen and Nancy l\ick er (New York: Cambridge, 1994). Hahn and Heiss’s volume provides an excellent sampling of various administrations’ policies toward the Third World over a number of decades, but does not focus on a particu­ lar presidency. Ryan and Pungong’s compilation also examines U.S. re­ sponses to decolonization over long periods of time. The carefully re­ searched essays in the Cohen and Tucker compilation focus more narrowly on the Johnson administration’s foreign policy making in the Third World. 281

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This volume conirilxiles to the existing scholarship hy focusing solely o n the Eisenhower years and is distinct in the number and variety of countries dis­ cussed and the extensive primary research conducted. This volume is also the first systematic examination of the Elsenhower administration’s foreign policy toward the Third World, providing a wealth of detail and insight that deepens our understanding of the Elsenhower presidency, early Cold War, and process of decolonization. Kenneth Osgood focuses on the roles of psychological warfare and p ro p ­ aganda in the Elsenhower administration’s attempts to influence Third W orld countries. For the impact of psychological warfare in administration think­ ing, see William E. Daugherty and Morris Janowitz, eds., A Psychological Warfare Casebook (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1958), 1-34; Christopher Simpson, Science o f Coercion: Communication Research a n d Psychological Warfare, 1945 -1960 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 3-14; and Mario del Pero, “The Cold War as a Total Symbolic War’: United States Psychological Warfare Plans in Italy During the 1950s,” paper presented to the Cold War History Group, University of California at Santa Barbara, May 19-20, 2000. For details on Elsenhower’s conception o f psychological warfare, see Kenneth A. Osgood, “Form before Substance: Eisenhower’s Commitment to Psychological Warfare and Negotiations with the Enemy,” Diplomatic History (Summer 2000): 405-434. For analyses of the psychological warfare elements of Eisenhower’s Chance for Peace speech and his Atoms for Peace and Open Skies propos­ als see J. Michael Hogan, “Eisenhower and Open Skies: A Case Study in Psy­ chological Warfare,” in Eisenhower’s War o f Worth: Rhetoric a n d Leadership, ed. Martin J. Medhurst (East Lansing, MI: Michigan State University Press, 1994): 137-56; Klaus Larres, “Eisenhower and the First Forty Days after Stalin’s Death: The Incompatibility of Détente and Political Warfare," Diplo­ m acy a n d Statecraft 6 (July 1995): 431-469; Martin J. Medhurst, “Eisen­ hower’s ‘Atoms for Peace’ Speech: A Case Study in the Strategic Use of Lan­ guage,” Communications Monographs 54 (June 1987): 204-20; and Idem, “Atoms for Peace and Nuclear Hegemony: The Rhetorical Structure of a Cold War Campaign,” Arm ed Forces a n d Society 24 (Summer 1997): 571-593. Recent scholarship has also focused on the relationship tetw een race and propaganda. See, for example, Cary Fraser, “Crossing the Color Line in Little Rock: The Elsenhower Administration and the Dilemma of Race for U.S. For­ eign Policy," Diplomatic History 24:2 (Spring 2000): 233-264; Michael Krenn, “Segregation and U.S. Diplomacy at the 1958 World’s Fair,” Diplomatic H is­ tory 20:4 (Fall 1996): 591-612; and Walter L. Hixson, Parting the Curtain: Propaganda, Culture, a n d the Cold War, 1945-1961 (New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 1997). John Prados covers CIA operations in a number of countries during the 1950s. For more information on the history of CIA covert operations, see

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John Prados, Presidents’Secret Wars: CIA a n d Pentagon Covert Operations fro m World War II through the Persian Chicago: Ivan R. Dee Publish­ ers, 1996). For cooperation between the CIA and British intelligence see Stephen Dorrill, MI-6. Inside the Covert World o f Her M ajesty’s Secret Service (New York: Free Press, 2000), and also Richard J. Aldrich, The Hidden Hand: Britain, America a n d Cold War Secret Intelligence (New York: Overlook Press, 2001). On Latin America generally see Stephen Rabe, Eisenhower a n d Latin America: The Foreign Policy o f Anticom m unism (Chapel Hill: Univer­ sity o f North Carolina Press, 1988). On the Guatemala operation specifically see the CIA history by Nick Cullather, Operation PBSUCCESS: The United States a n d Guatemala, 1952-1954-, also Richard H. Immerman, The CIA a n d Guatemala: The Foreign Policy o f Intervention (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1982); Stephen Schlesinger and Stephen R. Kinzer, Bitter Fruit: The Untold Story o f the American Coup in Guatemala (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1982); and Piero Gleijeses, Shattered Hope: The Guatemalan Revolution a n d the United States, 1944-1954 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton Uni­ versity Press, 1991). For those interested in CIA operations in the Middle East, an informed re­ cent overview Is in Douglas Little, "Mission Impossible: H ie CIA and the Cult of Covert Action in the Middle East,” Diplomatic History, 28:5 (November 2004). For Iran see Stephen Kinzer, All the Shah’s Men: A n American Coup a n d the Roots o f Middle East Terror (New York: John Wiley & Sons, 2003), and Kermit Roosevelt, Countercoup: The Struggle fo r Control o f Iran (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1979). For the Mediterranean see Andrew Rathmell, Se­ cret War in the Middle East: The Covert Struggle fo r Syria, 1949-1961 (Lon­ don: Taurus, 1995); Miles Copeland, The Game Player: Confessions o f CIA’s Original Political Operative (London: MacMillan, 1989); and Wilbur Eveland, Ropes o f Sand: Am erica’s Failure in the Middle East (New York: Norton, 1980). There Is no single source on the CIA in French Indochina but see Ed­ ward G. Lansdale, In the Midst o f Wars: An American in Southeast Asia (New York: Harper & Row, 1972). On the Congo see Madeleine Kalb, The Congo Cables: The Cold War in Africa fro m Eisenhower to Kennedy (New York: Macmillan, 1982). Michael Adamson examines the impact of foreign akl in the Third World. O n early postwar foreign assistance policymaking, see David A. Baldwin, Economic Development a n d American Foreign Policy, 1943-62 (Chicago, 1966); Robert M. Blum, Drawing the Line: The Origin o f the American Con­ tainm ent Policy in East Asia (New York, 1982); William Adams Brown, Jr., and Redvers Opie, Am erican Foreign Assistance (Washington, DC, 1953); Kevin M. Casey, Saving Intem atiotud Capitalism during the Truman Ad­ ministration: The National Advisory Council on International M onetary a n d Financial Problems (London, 2001); Michael J. Hogan, The Marshall Plan: America, Britain, a n d the Reconstruction o f Western Europe,

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1947-52 (New York, 1987); Harley A. Notier, Postwar Foreign Policy Prepa­ ration, 1939-45, IXpartmenl of State Publication 3580 (Washington, DC, 1949); Chester J. Fach, Jr., Arming the Free World: The Origins o f the United States M ilitary Assistance Program, 1945-1950 (Chapel Hill, NC, 1991); Tyler Priest, “Banking on Development: Brazil in the United States’s Search for Strategic Minerals, 1945-1953," Ih e International History Review 21 (June 1999); idem, Global Gambits: Big Steel a n d the U.S. Quest fo r M an­ ganese (Westport, CT, 2003); Stephen G. Rabe, “The Elusive Conference: United States Economic Relatioas with Latin America, 1945-1952," Diplo­ matic History 2 (Summer 1978); Vernon W. Ruttan, United States Develop­ m ent Assistance Policy: The Domestic Politics o f Foreign Economic A id (Bal­ timore, 1996); Charles Wolf, Jr., Foreign Aid: Theory a n d Practice in Southern Asia (Princeton, NJ, I960); and Robert E. Wood, From Marshall Plan to Debt Crisis: Foreign A id a n d Detelopment Choices in the World Economy (Berkeley, CA, 1986). On the creation and early operation of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank, see Rick E. Devries, “Bankers and Bretton Woods: Ori­ gins of Postwar International Monetary Agreements" (Ph.D. diss., University of Notre Dame, 2000); Alfred E. Eckes, Jr, A Search fo r Solvency: Bretton Woods a n d the International Monetary System, 1941-1971 (Austin, TX, 1975); Richard N. Gardner, Sterling-Dollar Diplomacy In Current Perspec­ tive: The Origins a n d the Prospects o f O ur International Economic Order (New York, 1980 [19561); Catherine Gwin, U.S. Relations with the World Bank, 1945-1992 (Washington, DC, 1994); G. John Ikenberry, “A World Economy Restored: Expert Consensus and the Anglo-American Postwar Set­ tlement,” International Organization 46 (Winter 1992); Harold James, In­ ternational M onetary Cooperation since Bretton Woods (Washington, DC, and New York, 1996); Jochen Kraske, Bankers with a Mission: The Presi­ dents o f the World Bank, 1946-91 (New York and Washington, DC, 1996); Edward S. Mason and Robert E. Asher, The World B ank since Bretton Woods (Washington, DC, 1973); Jonathan E. Sanford, US. Foreign Policy a n d Mul­ tilateral Detelopment Banks ( Boulder, CO, 1982); and Armand Van Dormael, Bretton Woods: Birth o f a M onetary System (London, 1978). On the foreign economic policy of the Eisenhower administration, see Bur­ ton I. Kaufman, Trade a n d Aid: Eisenbouer’s Foreign Economic Policy, 1953-1961 (Baltimore, 1982); Stephen G. Rabe, Eisetthotver a n d Latin Amer­ ica: The Foreign Policy o f Anti-Communism (Cliapel Hill, NC, 1988); W. W. Rostow, Eisenhotver, Kennedy, a n d Foreign A id (Austin, TX, 1985); and Thomas Zoumaris, “Elsenhower’s Foreign Economic Policy: The Case of Latin America,” 154-83, in Reevaluating Eisenhotver: American Foreign Policy in the 1950s, ed. Richard A. Melanson and David Mayers (Uihana, IL, 1987). Recent scholarship on modernization and development includes David C. Engerman, M odernization fro m the Other Shore: American Intellectuals

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a n d the Romance o f Russian Development (Cambridge, MA, 2003); David C. Engerman, Nils Gilman, Mark H. Haefele, and Michael S. Latham, eds., Stag­ ing Growth: M odernization, Development, a n d the Global Cold War (Amherst, MA, 2003); Nils Gilman, M andaritts o f the Future: M odernization Theory in Cold War America (Baltimore, 2003); Michael E. Latham, Mod­ ernization as Ideology: American Social Science a n d ‘Nation-Building ’ in the Kennedy Era (Chapel Hill, NC, 2000); and Kimber Charles Pearce, Ros­ tow, Kennedy, a n d the Rhetoric o f Foreign A id (E. Lansing, Ml, 2001). Robert McMahon examines the Eisenhower administration’s policies to­ ward Indonesia. Broad overviews of U.S.-lndonesian relations during the Eisenhower years can be found in Paul F. Gardner, Shared Hopes, Separate Fears: Fifty Years o f U.S.-Indonesian Relations (Boulder, CO: Westview, 1997); and Robert J. McMahon, The Limits o f Empire: The United States a n d Southeast Asia since World War II (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999). A more detailed, archivally based study is Andrew Roadnight, United States Policy towards Indonesia in the Truman a tu l Eisenhower Years (HoundsmiUs, England: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002). See also Lu Soo Chun, “U.S. Policy toward Indonesia, 1953-1961” (unpublished Ph.D. diss., Ohio University, 1997). Especially valuable for the covert intervention of 19571958 are Audrey R. Kahin and George McT. Kahin, Subversion as Foreign Policy: The Secret Eisenhower a n d Dulles Debacle in Indonesia (New York: Free Press, 1995); Kenneth Conboy and James Morrison, Feet to the Fire: CIA Covert Operations in Indonesia, 1957-1958 (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1999); Matthew Jones, “ Maximum Disavowable Aid’: Britain, the United States, and the Indonesian Rebellion, 1957-58,” English Historical Re­ view 114 (November 1999), 1179-1216; and the relevant chapter in John Pra­ dos, Presidents' Secret Wars: CIA a n d Pentagon Covert Operations since World War II (New York: Morrow, 1987). For Indonesian internal dynamics, see Barbara S. Harvey, Permesta: H a lf a Rebellion (Ithaca, NY: Cornell Uni­ versity Press, 1977). Two U.S. ambassadors to Indonesia have left useful memoirs: John M. Allison, Ambassadorfro m the Prairie or Allison Wonder­ land (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1973); and Howard Palfrey Jones, Indone­ sia: The Possible Dream (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1971). Kathryn Statler focuses on American nation building in Vietnam during the 1950s. The mast useful accounts of American intervention in Vietnam within the context of the Cold War include Lawrence Kaplan, Denis Artaud, and Mark Rubin’s compilation Dien Bien Phu a n d the Crisis o f FrancoAm erican Relations, 1954-1955 (Wilmington, DE: SR Books, 1990), which takes a critical look at the French and American efforts in Vietnam during the 1954—1955 period and David Anderson’s excellent account, Trapped by Suc­ cess: The Eisenhower Adm inistration a n d Vietnam, 1953-1961 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1991)» which traces the Eisenhower administra­ tion’s deepening commitment to South Vietnam. Less attention has been

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paid to the Eisenhower administration’s response to the decolonization movement and Third World leaders’ attempts to shape their own destinies. Scholars have only recently begun to assess the successes and failures of these leaders in achieving foreign policy goafs and manipulating greater powers. See for example Tony Smith, “New Bottles for New Wine: A Eericentric Framework for lire Study of the Cold War,” Diplomatic History, 24 (Fall 2000): 567-591; Zachary Karahell, Architects o f Intervention: The United States, the Third World, a n d the Cold War, 1946-1962 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1999); and R oten Keohane, “The Big Influence of Small Allies," Foreign Policy 2 (Spring 1997): 161-182. Ngo Dinh Diem continues to receive sclrolarly attention but the emphasis is usually on his failures in domestic policy. For a more nuanced analysis, see Philip Catton, Diem ’s Final Failure: Prelude to America ’s War in Vietnam (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2002). Cation provides an in-depth analysis of Diem’s philosophy of personalism and conflicting U.S.-South Vietnamese views on nation building and modernizing South Vietnam. For personal accounts of American actions in Vietnam during the 1950s, Edward Laasdale’s In the Midst o f Wars: A n American ’s Mission to Southeast Asia (New York: Harper & Row, 1972) remains an interesting read and George Allen’s None So Blind: A Personal Account o f the Intelligence Failure in Vietnam (Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2001) is an excellent analysis of the prob­ lems with American decision making vis-à-vis South Vietnam. For detailed coverage of post-Geneva U.S. economic aid see Douglas Dacy, Foreign Aid, War, a n d Economic Development: South Vietnam, 195.51975 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986); Michael Adamson, “Delusioas of Development: The Eisenhower Administration and the For­ eign Aid Program in Vietnam, 1955-1960," Journal o f American-East Asian Relations .5/2 (Summer 1996): 157-182; and Gabriel Kolko, Anatom y o f War: Vietnam, the United States, a n d the M odem Historical Experience (New York: Pantheon Books, 1985) Nongovernmental actors also sought to influence the Diem regime. Joseph Moigan in The Vietnam Lobby: The American Friends o f Vietnam, 19.55-197.5 (Chapel Hill: North Carolina University Press, 1997) provides a detailed ac­ count of the AFV’s efforts to strengthen Diem’s government. John Erast’s Forg­ ing a Fateful Alliance: Michigan State University a n d the Vietnam War (East Laasing: Michigan State University Press, 1998) examines MSUG activities in South Vietnam. For an earlier firsthand account that focuses solely on the tech­ nical aspects of the MSUG, see Scigliano and Fox, Technical Assistance in Vietnam: The Michigan State University Experience (New York: Praeger, 1965). See aLso Frances Fitzgerald, Fire in the Lake, for a critical account of the MSUG’s attempts to promote Diem as an advocate of democracy. Nicola Cooper’s France in Indochina: Colonial Encountets (Oxford and New York: Berg, 2001) gives a detailed analysis of the establishment of

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French colonialism and cultural imperialism in Indochina. A number of stud­ ies assess American attempts at cultural imperialism in Europe, including Richard Kuisel, Seducing the French: The Dilemma o f Am ericanization (Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 1993), Rheinhold Wagnleitner, CocaColonization a n d the O dd War: The Cultural Mission o f the United States after World War U (Chapel Hill: University of N. Carolina Press, 1994), and Uta Poigner, “Beyond ‘Modernization’ and ‘Colonization,’” Diplomatic His­ tory 23 (Winter 1999). Also of interest is Seth Jacobs’s “‘Our System Demands the Supreme Being’: H ie U.S. Religious Revival and the ‘Diem Experiment,’ 1954-55,” Diplomatic History 25 (Fall 2001): 589-624 that examines Dulles's religious convictions and missionary zeal to spread Christian values to South Vietnam. Lastly, Michael Latham’s M odernization as Ideology: American So­ cial Science a n d ‘N ation B uilding’ in the Kennedy Em (Chapel Hill: Uni­ versity of North Carolina Press, 2000) provides a detailed case study of mod­ ernization in practice through the Strategic Hamlet Program in South Vietnam. Yi Sun assesses the diplomacy of John Foster Dulles and Mao Zedong dur­ ing the two Chinese straits crises. Michael Schaller’s The United States a n d China: Into the Twenty-First Century (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002) is an excellent overview of the history of Sino-American relations from the first Opium War to the present. Chen Jian in his M ao’s China a n d the Cold War (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2001) provides an extremely insightful analysis o f Mao Zedong’s mentality and behavior during the Cokl War years with the use of newly declassified Chinese sources. Thomas Stolper also sees Chinese nationalism as the primary factor that mo­ tivated Mao to initiate the first offshore Island crisis in China, Taiwan a n d the Offshore Islands Together with an Implication fo r Outer Mongolia a n d Sino-Soviet Relations (New York: M.E. Sharpe, 1985). Xiaobing Li’s Diplo­ m acy through M ilitancy in the Taiwan Straits: Crisis Politics a n d SinoAm erican Relations in the 1950s (China Education Press, 1993) focuses on the first offshore island conflict and argues that miscommunication and mis­ understanding between Beijing and Washington were respoasible for the es­ calation of the crisis. A number of revisionist accounts on Dulles and foreign policy making during the Eisenhower administrations dissect Dulles’s seeming selfcontradiction in uttering strong anti-communist rhetoric while adopting a rel­ atively cautious approach to his policy pursuits. They include Ronald Pntssen’s John Foster Dulles: The Road to Power (New York: Free Press, 1982), Mark Toulouse’s The Transformation o f John Foster Dulles: From Prophet o f Realism to Priest o f Nationalism (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1985), Henry W. Brands Jr.’s Cold Warriors: Eisenhower’s Generation a n d American Foreign Policy (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), and Richard Immerman’s John Foster Dulles: Piety, P ra g m a tism , a n d Power

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in U.S. Foreign Policy (Wilmington, DE: Scholarly Resources, 1999). Percep­ tive scrutiny of Dulles’s dealings with China and examination of his realpolilik approaches can also he found in Nancy Tucker’s “John Foster Dulles and the Taiwan Roots of the Tw o Chinas Policy”’ in John Foster Dulles and the Diplomacy o f the Cold W art Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1985), edited by Richard Immerman; in Ronald Pniessen’s “Over the Volcano: The United States and the Taiwan Strait Crisis, 1954-1955" in Re-examining the Cold W ar Vnited States-Cbina Diplomacy, 1954-1973, edited by Robert S. Ross and Jiang Changhin (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001), and in Richard D. Challcncr’s “Dulles: Moralist as Pragmatist” in The Diplo­ mats, 1939-1979, edited by Gordon A. Craig and Francis L. Locwenheim (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994). An in-depth study of Dulles’s attitude toward the use of nuclear weapoas is provided by Neal Rosendorf in his “John Foster Dulles* Nuclear Schizophrenia” in Cold War Statesmeti Confront the Bomb, edited by John Lewis Gaddis, Philip H. Gor­ don, Ernest R. May, and Jonathan Rosenlx.*rg (Oxford, U.K.: Oxford Univer­ sity Press, 1999). ITie accounts of prominent Chinese diplomats and those who worked with Mao help shed light on the foreign policy decisioas and the personality of die Chinese leader, such as Wu Xiuquan’s memoir Zai Waijiaobu de Banian (Eight Years at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs] (Beijing, China: Shijie Zhishi Chuhaashe, 1983), Shi Zhe’s eyewitness descriptioas in his Zai lisbi juren sbebian (With the Historical Giants) (Beijing: Zhongyang Wenxian Chuhaashe, 1991), and Wu Lcngxi’s Yi M aoZbuxi (Reminiscing about Chairman Mao) (Bei­ jing: Xinhua Publisher, 1994). Specific studies on Mao’s view of' a potential mil­ itary showdown in an nuclear age are advanced by Jolin W. Lewis and Xue Litai whose China Builds the Bomb (Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University Press, 1988) reveals Mao’s changing attitude toward die real danger of a nuclear war despite his belligerent and uncompromising rhetoric, and their view Is shared by Shu Guang Zhang, as aigued in his “Between ‘Paper* and ‘Real Tigers’: Mao’s View of Nuclear Weapoas" in C M War Statesmen Confront the Bom b The complex relatioaship between Mao and the Chinese premier Zhou Enlai, who was widely recognized as the moderate force within China’s top leadership, Is examined by several scholars, including Pei Monong, who wrote Zhou Enlai Waijiao X ue iZhou Enlai’s Diplomacy] (Beijing, China: Zhonggong Zhongyang Danxiao Publisher, 1997); Li Ping, who presented a highly laudatory account of Zhou’s indispeasable role in China’s foreign af­ fairs, especially of his efforts at winning the Third World support for China in Kaiffuo Zotigli Zhou Enlai IZhou Enlai: The First Premier of the People’s Re­ public of China) (Beijing: Zhonggong Zhongyang Dangxiao Publisher, 1994); and Shu Guang Zhang, whose “In the Shadow of Mao: Zhou Enlai and New China’s Diplomacy” in Gordon Craig and Francis Loewenheim, eds., The Diplomats, 1939-1979 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994) pro-

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vides a brilliant portrayal of both Mao’s impulsive political behavior and Zhou’s comparatively cautious, albeit sometimes ineffective, pragmatism due to Mao’s heavy-handed control of China’s foreign policy apparatus. As for the competition between Beijing and Washington for the support of the Third World countries, Richard Wright’s Color Curtain: A Report on the B andung Conference (Cleveland, OH: Work! Publishing CO., 1956) and George McT. Kahin’s The Asian-African Conference: Bandung, Indonesia, April 1955 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1956) both provide astute observations of the nature of the Bandung Conference and of China’s effec­ tive endeavors at wooing nonaligned nations by invoking their shared her­ itage of anti-imperialism, as does Zhang Baijia in uThe Changing Interna­ tional Scene and Chinese Policy toward the United States, 1954-1970” in Re-examining the Cold War. Rena Foaseca’s article “Nehru and the Diplo­ macy of Nonalignment” in The Diplomats, 1939-1979 focuses on the role of the Indian leader in the Cold War power snuggle and observes his inherent Sympathy toward China. Jason Parker provides a careful study of the Bandung Conference’s im­ pact on the Eisenhower administration. The Bandung Conference received a m easure of contemporary examination through political and cultural lenses, but then mostly dropped out of scholarly sight until the 1990s. Three 1956 publications explored aspects of the conference’s significance. George McTurnan Kahin’s The Asian-African Conference offered a short scholarly analysis; Philippines statesman Carlos Romulo’s The M eaning o f B andung gave a participant’s perspective; and novelist Richard Wright’s The Color Curtain perceived the broader imponance of the meeting as a racialcultural event. Ten years later, G. H. Jansen’s 1966 Afro-Asia a n d NonA lignm ent identified Bandung as the foundational moment of the nonaligned movement. For two decades, however, this moment was lost in the literature. O ther than brief mentions—such as Paul Gordon Lauren in 1988’s Power a n d Prejudice: The Politics a n d Diplomacy o f Racial D iscrimina­ tion-, H. W. Brands in 1969’s The Specter o f Neutralism-, and Nicholas Tarling’s take on the view from London in “‘Ah-Ah’: Britain and the Bandung conference of 1955,”Journal o f Southeast Asian Studies 23:1 (March 1992): 74-112, the conference basically vanished until the 1990s. At that point, historians’ rising interest in the intersection of race and foreign affairs led back to Bandung. Brenda Gayle Plummer’s 1996 Rising Wind: Black Americans a n d U.S. Foreign Affairs and Penny Von Eschen’s 1997 Race against Em­ pire: Black Am ericans a n d Anticolonialism each devote several pages to the subject. Finally, two recent essays offer some intriguing analyses: Cary Fraser, “An American Dilemma: Race and Realpolitik in the American Re­ sponse to the Bandung Conference, 1955,” in Brenda Gavle Plummer, ed., W indow on Freedom: Race, CitHl Rights, a n d Foreign Affairs, 1945-1988-, and Matt Jones, “A ’Segregated’ Asia? Race, the Bandung Conference, and

29»

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Pan-Asianist Fears in American Thought and Policy, 195 4-55,” forthcoming in Diplonuitic History in 2U06. Jim Meriwether examines the Kisenhower administration’s policies toward Africa. The historical literature on the Eisenhow'er administration and Africa remaias far thinner than it slKHiki, although there arc tlie standard works that fill the opposite ends of the spectmm for the 1950s: the specific ones that probe critical episodes during the Eisenhower years, panicularly relating to the Congo crisis, or detail relatioas with particular countries, such as Ghana or South Africa; and the broad works that try to tackle all of American for­ eign policy with all of Africa. More recently, the growing interest in race in international relatioas, and panicularly in the conduct of American foreign policy, has contributed to an expanding numlier of works that to varying degrees examine relations with Africa. Perliaps most important is Thomas Borstelmann’s compelling hook The Cold War a n d the Color Line: American Race Relatiom in the Global Arena (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001), while Mary Dudziak’s excellent Cold War CitHl Rights: Race a n d the Image o f American Democracy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2000) details tlie in­ ternational role of race and civil rights in this era. Similarly, valuable works such as John Kent’s “The United States and the Decolonization of Black Africa, 19*15-1963,” in The United States a n d Decol­ onization, eds. David Ryan and Victor Pungong (St. Martin’s Press, 2000), Brenda Gayle Plummer’s Rising Wind: Black Americans a n d U.S. Foreign Affairs, 1935-1960 (Chapel Hill: University of Nonh Carolina Press, 1996), and Thomas J. Noer’s Cold War a n d Black Liberation: The United States and White Rule in Africa, 1948-1968 (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1985) cover imponant aspects of the Eisenhower era. However, none of these works focuses specifically on the Eisenhow'er years, and so there re­ maias room for a focused yet comprehensive treatment of the Eisenhower administration and relatioas with Africa. Jim Seikmeier takes a close look at the Eisenhower administration’s views on aid with respect to Bolivia. For general w'orks on U.S.-Latin American re­ latioas see Lars Schoultz, Beneath the United States (Cambridge, MA: Har­ vard University Press, 1998); Mark Gilderhus, The Second Century: United States-Latin American Relations since 1889 ( Wilmington, DE: Scholarly Re­ sources, 1999); Peter Smith, Talons o f the Eagle (New York: Oxford Univer­ sity Press, 1996); Kyle Longley, In the Eagle’s Shadow: The United States a n d Latin America (Wheeling, IL: Harlan Davidson, 2002); Gaddis Smith, The Last Years o f the Monroe Doctrine (New York: Hill and Wang, 1994), and Vic­ tor Bulmer-Thomas and James Dunkerley, eds., Ih e United States a n d Latin America: The Netv Agenda (London: Institute for Latin American Studies, University of London, 1999). For U.S. perceptioas of Latin America, with par­ ticular reference to economics, see James William Park, Latin Am erican Un-

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derdevelopment—A History o f Perspectives in the United States, 1870-1965 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana University Press, 1995) For good overviews of U.S.-Bolivian relations see Frederick Pike, The United States a n d the Andean Nations (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1977); Kenneth D. Lehman, Bolivia a n d the United States—A lim ited Partnership (Atheas: University of Georgia Press, 1999); Laurence Whitehead, “The United States and Bolivia: A Case of Neo-Colonialism,” (Oxford: Haslemere Group, 1969); and Kevin Healy, Llamas, Weaving, a n d Organic Chocolate—M ulticultural Grassroots Development in the Andes a n d Am a­ zo n o f Bolivia (South Bend, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2001), es­ pecially chapter 2, “The Biases of Western ARI,” p. 17-38. With respect to Bolivian history, see H eiben S. Klein, A Concise History o f Bolivia (Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press, 2003). For studies of the Bolivian Revolution, see James Dunkerley, Rebellion in the Veins— Political Struggle in Bolivia, 1952-1982 (London: Verso, 1984); and Merilee S. Grindle and Pilar Domingo, eds., Proclaiming Revolution: Bolivia in Comparative Perspective (Cambridge, MA: Rockefeller Center for Latin Amer­ ica Studies, Harvard University, 2003) Peter Hahn reassesses the so-called special relatioaship between the United States and Israel in the 1950s. Several overviews of U.S. diplomacy examine U.S.-Israeli relatioas during the Eisenhower years. Melani McAlister, Epic Encounters: Culture, Media, a n d U.S. Interests in the Middle East, 1945-2000 (2001) and Douglas Little, American Orientalism: The United States a n d the M iddle East since 1945 (2002) probe the importance of cul­ tural values and beliefs on the formulation of official policy. Burton I. Kauf­ man, The Arab M iddle East a n d the United States: Inter-Arah Rivalry a n d Super-Power Diplomacy (1996) examines Israel as a factor in U.S.-Arab rela­ tions. Peter L. Hahn, Crisis a n d Crossfire: The United States a n d the Middle East since 1945 (2005) surveys U.S. policy toward the Arab-Israeii conflict and U.S.-Israeli relatioas in the 1950s. Several scholars examine U.S.-Israeli bilateral relations in the Eisenhower era. Isaac Altéras, Eisenhower a n d Israel: U.S.-Israeli Relations, 1953-1960 (1993) and Abraham Ben-Zvi, Decade o f Transition: Eisenhower, Kennedy, a n d the Origins o f the American-Israeli Alliance (1998) argue that Eisenhower gradually shifted U.S. security policy toward Israel from confrontation to co­ operation. But Zach Levey, Israel a n d the Western Powers, 1952-1960(1997) shows that Israel relied on West European states to provide arms and thus as­ sure Israeli security in the face of Eisenhower’s reluctance to assume such re­ sponsibilities. Peter L. Hahn, Caught in the Middle East: U.S. Policy toward the Amh-Israeli Conflict, 1945-1961 (2004) probes the impact of American policy toward the Arab-Israeli conflict on the U.S.-Israeli relationship, while Shlomo Slonim, Jerusalem in America's Foreign Policy, 1947-1997(1998) examines U.S.-Israeli disagreements on the political status of the holy dty.

292

B ihliagm pbic Essay

Historians have long debated the extent to which the U.S.-Israeli relation­ ship was “special." Bernard Reich, Quest fo r Peace: United States-Ismel Relations a n d the Arab-lsnaeli Conflict ( 1977) and Nadav Safran, Israel: The Embattled Ally ( 1978) implicitly applaud the closeness of the relationship while George W. Ball and Douglas B. Ball, The Passionate Attachm ent: Am erica’s Inrobem ent with Israel, 1947 to the Present ( 1992) and Cheryl A. Rubenberg, Israel a n d the American National Interest: A Critical Exam ina­ tion ( 1986) criticize close relations. Abraham Ben-Zvi, The United States a n d Israel: The Limits o f the Special Relationship ( 1993) and Yaacov Bar-SimanTov, Israel, the Superpouers a n d the War in the Middle East (1987), by con­ trast, question whether the two powers actually enjoyed a close relationship. The U.S.-Israeli relationship during the Suez-Sinai War of 1956-57 is exam­ ined in Peter L Hahn, The United States, Great Britain, a n d Egypt, 1945-1956: Strategy a n d Diplomacy in the Early Cold War ( 1991 ), Stephen Z. Freiberger, Dawn orer Suez: The Rise o f American P ouer the M iddle East 1953-1957 ( 1992), Keith Kyle, Suez ( 1991), and Diane B. Kunz, The Eco­ nomic Diplomacy o f the Suez Crisis (1991). Selwyn llan Troen and Moshe Shemesh, eels., Ih e Suez-Sinai Crisis, 1956: Retrospective a n d Reappraisal ( 1990) provide an international perspective on the crisis. Nathan Cilino provides a careful look at the Eisenhower administration’s dealings with Iraq. Studies in the history of U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East have grown in number in recent years. Overviews include The M iddle East a n d the United States: A Historical a n d Political Reassessment, ed. David W. Lesch, 2nd ed. (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1999); and II. W. Brands, Into the Labyrinth: ’I he United States a n d the M iddle East, 1945-1993 (New York: McGraw Hill, 1994). Studies of U.S. relations w ith Arab countries during the Eisenhower era include Ray Takeyh, The Origins o f the Eisenhower Doctrine: The US, Britain, a n d Nasser’s Egypt, 19.53-57 (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2000); Irene Gendzier, Notes fro m the M ine­ field: United States ln ten en tio n in Lebanon a n d the M iddle East, 19451958 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1997); and David Lesch, Syria a n d the United States: Eisenhouer’s Cold War in the M iddle East (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1992). For studies that use Arabic-language sources, see Salim Yaqub, Containing Arab Nationalism: The Eisenbouer Doctrine a n d the M iddle East (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2004); Jon B. Alterman, Egypt a n d American Foreign Assistance, 1952-1956: Hopes Dashed (New York: Palgrave/Macmillan, 2002); and Nathan J. Citino, From Arab Nationalism to OPEC: Eisenbouer, King S a ’tul, a n d the Making o f USSaudi Relations (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2002). For studies of Anglo-American relations in the Middle East during the Eisenhower era, see Tore Tingvold Petersen, The Middle East betueen th e Great Powers: Anglo-American Conflict a n d Cooperation, 1952-7 (N ew York: St. Martin’s Press, 2000); Steven Z. Freiberger, Daum o ter Suez: The

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293

Rise o f American Power in the M iddle East, 1953-1957 (Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 1992); Nigel John Ashton, Eisenhoiver, Macmillan, a n d the Problem o f Nassen Anglo-American Relations a n d Arab Nationalism, 1955-1959(New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1996); Ritchie Ovendale, Britain, the United States, a n d the Transfer o f Power in the M iddle East, 1945-1962 (New York: Leicester University Press, 1996); and W. Scott Lucas, Divided We Stand: Britain, the US, a n d the Suez Crisis (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1991). Familiarity with regional and national politics is crucial to understanding U.S.-Iraqi relations during the 1950s. On Arab nationalism, see Patrick Seale, The Strugglefor Syria: A Study ofPostwar Arab Politics, 1945-1958, Rev. ed. (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1986); James Jankowski, Nasser’s Egypt, Arab Nationalism, a n d the United Arab Republic (Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2002); and Malcolm Kerr, The Arab Cold Wan Gamal 'Abd ed-Nasir a n d His Rivals, 1958-1970, 3rd ed. (London: Oxford Univer­ sity Press, 1971). On Iraq, see the relevant chapters in Marion Farouk-Sluglett and Peter Sluglett, Iraq since 1958: From Revolution to Dictatorship, 2nd ed. (New York: LB. Tauris, 1990); Charles Tripp, A History o f Iraq, Rev. ed. (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002); and Phebe Marr, The M odem His­ tory o f Iraq, Rev. ed. (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 2004), which includes a helpful guide to sources in Arabic. The most important work of modern Iraqi political history Is Hanna Batatu, The Old Social Classes a n d the Revolution­ ary Movements o f Iraq (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1978).

Index

‘Atxli, Ahmed Salih, 256 Aid for International D evelopm ent Act (1950), 54 ‘Aflaq, Michel, 252 African National Congress (ANC), 176 AFV. See American Friends o f Vietnam Association Alliance for Progress, 211 Allison, John M., 87-89, 92 Alpha peace plan, 231-32 Alsop, Joseph, 34 American Friends o f Vietnam Association (AFV), 111, 121n54 American-Vietnamese Association (AVA), 111 American Zionist Committee for Public Affairs, 228 ANC. See African National Congress Andrade, Victor, 206-208 Anglo-American Oil Company, 33 apartheid, 176 Arab cold war, xx, 247, 262-63, 276 Arhenz Guzman, Jacobo, 202, 257 *Arif, ‘Alxl al-Salam, 250-52 Asian-African conference. See Bandung conference

Atoms for Peace campaign, 4, 8-9 AVA. See American-Vietnamese Association Baghdad Pact (CENTO), 229, 248-50 Bandung conference, xii, xix, 40, 81-82, 134-135, 153-74, 275 Ben-Gurion, David, 226-27, 229-31, 234-35 Bohan, Merwin I., 200 Bolivia, xix, 197-221 Bowles, Chester, xvi Bretton Woods system, 49, 52, 67n2 Brown v. Board o f Education, xvi, 13-15, 154, 157, 179-80 Byroade, Henry, 178 CAT. See Civil Air Transport Castro, Fidel, 42, 61 CENTO. See Baghdad Pact Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), xviii, 27-46; creation, 28-29; and Ute Congo, 41-42; and Guatemala, 34; and Indonesia (O peration Haik), xviii, 31, 39-41, 76, 88-95; and Iran (Operatk>n Ajax), 33-34; and Syria 295

296

IiuU'.v

(O perations Wakein1/Straggle anti W appen), 37-38 Central Intelligence G roup (CIG), 28 Chance for Peace speech, 7 Charter o f Inclusive Struggle, 91-92 Churchill, W iaston, xi CIA. See Central Intelligence Agency CIG. See (Antral Intelligence G roup Civil Air Traasport (CAT), 32, 4 1 civil rights, 13-13, 154 Cochran, H. Merle, 77-78 Cokxnlxt Plan, 104 Colombo Powers, 154, 156, 158, I70n4 COM IDOL Scv Corporation M inera tie Bolivia Congo, 41-42, 189-92 Corporation M inera de Bolivia (COMIBOL), 202, 208-9, 211 cultural diplom acy, 15-18, 24n55 Gumming, Hugh S., 78-81, 83-84, 87 Cutler, Robert, 180 Dachen Islands, 131 DDP. See Directorate o f Plaas Decolonization, xvii, 9-11, 15, 198; and CIA, 30-31, 42-43 Developm ent Loan Fund (DLF), xiv, 48, 59-60 Directorate of Plaas (DDP), 32, 34, 40 DLF. See D evelopm ent Loan Fund Dtxtliule commission, 35 Dulles, Allen W., 33-35, 39, 57, 80-82, 85-86, 92-94, 185, 191, 249, 251 Dulles, John Foster, xiii, xvii, 14, 37, 82, 93, 125-26, 144-I45n4, 182, 272, 274-75; and handling conference, 162-65; and Israel, 226-27, 231-33; and neutralism, 81; and Offshore Islands crisis, 127—43; and propaganda, 20nl4 Durltrow, Elltridge, 105, 107 Elran, Abba, 226-27 Ecole N ationale d\Adm inistration (ENA), 112, 122n59 Economic Stabilization Plan for Bolivia, 208-12

Edgerton, G len E., 206-7 Eiscnltowcr Doctrine, 38, 230, 249 Eisenhow er, Dwight D., xi-xii, xx, 88-H9, 92-93, 115, 188-89, 234, 253-54; am i Africa, 175-96; and Arab nationalism , 249; and Iraq, 245-69; and propaganda, 3-26; am i Third World, xi-xii; historiography, xiv-xvi; and South Vietnam, 101-23 Eisenhower, Milton, 52, 203—1, 276 Eliau, Pinhas, 237 ENA. See Ecole Nationale d ’A dm inistration Eveland, Willxir, 37 Exiin. Scv Export-Import Bank Export-Import Bank (Exim), 47, 49-50, 53-54, 56, 206 ftxtd aid, 205 foreign akl, xviii, 47-72, 203, 212 Foreign Assistance Act ( 1950), 54 Foreign O perations Administration, 17 Formosa resolution, 132 Foirestal, Jam es M., 29 Geneva conference (1954 ), 101, 107, 158 G hana, 175, 182 Great Britain, 89-90 Great Leap Forward, 139 llalla, Philip, 255-57 Hammarskjöld, Dag, 190 HasfHtra operations, xx, 227-28, 232-33 Heikal, Mol tam ed, 35 llerter, Christian A., 93, 184, 187-89 I lertzog, Chaim, 228 Ho Chi Mini), 101, 156, 272 Hollister, John B., 53 Hum phrey, G eoige, 49-50, 58 Hussein, Saddam, 246, 255, 262 IMF. See International Monetary Fund India, xv, 77, 136 Im kx'hina, 31-32 Indonesia, xviii, 39—10, 75-99

In d e x

Indonesian Communist Patty. See Parlai K om unis Indonesia (PKI) International Monetary Fund (IMF), 66, 208 international political econom y (IPE), 47-49, 52, 65 IPE. See international political econom y Iran, 34 Iraqi communist patty, 250 Iraqi coup (1958), 38-39, 245, 250-51 Iraq Petroleum Company, 261 Iraqi Free Officers, 250 Israel, xx, 225-43 Jackson, C. D., 6, 52, 158, 165-68 Jackson Committee, 5-6, 19-20n8 Jackson, William H., 5-6 Jiang Jieshi, 130-31, 140-41 Jinm en and Mazu, 127-31, 164 Jolm son, U. Alexis, 79 Jones, Howard P., 94 Jordan, 234-35 Kasavuhu, Joseph, 189-92 Keenleyskle Report, 199 Kenen, I. L , 227-28 Khrushchev, Nikita, xii-xiii, 10, 59-60, 84, 254, 277 Knight, RRlgway, 177 Lalouette, Roger, 116 Landon, Kenneth, 159 Laasdale, Edward, 32-33, 272-73 Laos, 41 Lelranon, 39, 250-51 Lechfn O quendo, Juan, 200, 210 little Rock crisis (1957), xvii, 14-15, 178 Lloyd, Selwyn, 251, 258 Lodge, Jr., Henry Calx*, 160-61, 168, 187-89 Lumumba, Patrice, 41-42,189-92 MAAG. See Military Assistance Advisory G roup Mao Zedong, 126, 128-29, 131-34, 136, 142-44 m assive retaliation, 271

297

Mau Mau, 176 MEDO. See Middle East Defense Organizatkm Meir, Golda, 229-30, 232, 234-35 Michigan State University G roup (MSUG), 108, 112-14, 121-122n55 Middle East Defense Organizatkm (MEDO), 229-30, 248 Military Assistance Advisory G roup (MAAG), 106, 108 Military Defense Assistance Act (1949), 54 Millikan, Max F., 52, 58, 63-65 MNC. See M ouvem ent N ational Congolais MNR. See M ovim iento Nacionalisla Revolutionario M obutu, Joseph, 191-93 M odernization theory, 61-66, 207 M orland, Oscar, 90 Morrow, E. Frederick, 275 M ouvem ent N ational Congolais (MNC), 189 M ovim iento N acionalisla R evolutionario (MNR), 199-212, 275 MSP. See Mutual Security Program MSUG. See Michigan State University G roup Mutual Security Program (MSP), 49, 57-58 NAC. See National Advisory Council on International M onetary and Financial Problem s Nagy, Ferenc, 158 Nasser, Gamal Abdel, xii, 35-36, 232-33; and Baghdad Pact, 253-54; and Central Intelligence Agency, 35; and The Philosophy o f the Revolution, 249; and Suez, 248-49 Nasutkm, Abdul Haris, 93-94 nation-building, xix, 101-3, 107-8, 115-16, 117nl National Advisory Council on International Monetary and Financial Problem s (NAC), 50, 54

298

In d ex

National Institute o f Administration (NIA), 112-13 National Intelligence Estimate (NIK), Africa, 179, 181 National Security Act (1947), 28-29 National Security Council (NSC), 6, 29, 138, 160; and Africa, 180-85; and Central Intelligence Agency, 29; and econom ic policy, 51-52, 59-61; and Israel, 235; NSC 4/A, 29; NSC 10/2, 29; NSC 90, 31-32; NSC 162/2, 271; NSC 171/1, 80; NSC 5501, 271-72; NSC 5612/1, 59; NSC 5613/1, 52, 59; NSC 5701, 59; NSC 5707/8, 59; NSC 5719, 183-85; NSC 5810/1, 52; NSC 5820, 252, 259; NSC 5902/1, 6 l; and propaganda, 20n l 3; and policy tow ard Third World, xii; and Soviet Union, 11. See also New Look nationalism, 27, 31; and Africa, 179; and Bolivia, 199; and Third World, xiv-xv, 153-4; Arab, 249, 251, 260 Nehru, Jawaharlal, 56, 136-37, 154 neocolonialism , 113 neutralism , 154,165-66 New Lcx>k, vii, xii, 8, 33, 212 Ngo Dinh Diem, xix, 102-7, 118nl5 NIA. See National Institute o f Administration NIE. See National Intelligence Estimate Nixon Doctrine, 193 Nixon, Ricliard, 192-93; and Africa, 175-76, 182-85; and Latin America, 59-61; trip to Africa, 182-83 Nkrumah, Kwame, 154, 192 nonalignm ent, xii. See also neutralism northern tier, 248; and Baghdad pact, 248; and Syria, 248-49 NSC. See Natk»nal Security Council Nuri al-Said, 248-50 OCB. See O perations Ctxirdinating Board O ’Daniel, John, 115 Office o f Intelligence Research (OIR), 158, 163-64

Office of Policy Coordination (OPC), 29, 32 Office o f Reports and Estimates (ORE), 25-48 Office o f Strategic Servkes (OSS), 28, 43 oil diplomacy, 200- 1 , 20-1-5, 247, 259-61 OIR. See Office o f Intelligence Research O pen Skies proposal, 8 O perations Coordinating Board (OCB), 6, 8, 14, 17, 157-59 O rganizalktn o f Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC), 259-62 OPC. See Office o f Policy Q xxdination OPEC. See Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries ORE. See Office of Reports and Estimates OSS. See Office o f Strategic Services Parlai K om unis Indonesia (PK1), 75, 79 Parlai NasionaI Itulotiesia (PN1), 78-79 Passman, Otto, xiii Paz Estenssoro, Victor, 200-1, 210-11 Perkins, George, 178 Perm erintab R em lustoner Republik Indonesia (PRR1), 91 Piaaam P etjuangan Semesia Alam (Perm esta). See Charter o f Inclusive Struggle PK1. See Parlai K om unis Indonesia PNI. See Parlai N asional Indonesia Pope, Allen, 95 Powell, Adam Clayton, 162-63 President’s Committee on International Infbnnation Activities. See Jackson Committee Project Solarium, 33 propaganda, xvii-xviii, 3- 26, 111 PRRI. See Perm erintab Revolusioner Republik Indonesia PSB. See Psychological Strategy Board Psychological Strategy Board (PSB), 6, 179 psychological w arfare, 3-7, 12-15, 19n3, 111 puhlk' law, 480, 205

In d ex

Qasim, Abd al-Karim, xx, 246, 252-54; and Arab cokl war, 247; and com munists, 252-53, 258-59; and Mosul plot, 254; U.S. intervention against, 254-55 Quemoy and Matsu. See Jinm en and Mazu race, xvii, 12-15, 31, 157, 163, 185-88 Randall, Clarence, 49, 189 Randall Report, 63 Rashid ‘Ali al-Kaylani, 253, 256 Reconstruction Finance Corporation (RFC), 206 RFC. See Reconstruction Finance C orporation Roliertson, Walter S., 82, 84, 87-88, 275 Rockefeller Committee, 63 Rockefeller, Nelson, 158, 161-62 rollback, 6-7, 33 Roosevelt, Kermit, 35, 40 Rostow, Walt W , 48, 63-65 Rountree, William, 253-55 Sastroamkljojo, Ali, 79, 82-83 Scott, Rol)ert, 90 SEATO. See Southeast Asia Treaty O rganization Secret Intelligence Service, British (SIS), 29-30, 34, 36, 43 Security Council. See United Natk>ns Security Council Sharett, Moshe, 226, 231 Sharpville, 187 Siani, 228, 230, 234 SIS. See Secret Intelligence Service, British South Africa, 186-89 South Vietnam, 101-23 Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO), 130, 156, l60 Soviet Union, econom ic offensive, 55-60 S putnik, xiii Suez Canal crisis (1956), 35-38, 169, 181, 234, 248 Sukarno, Achmed, xii, 39-41, 81-84 Syria, 38, 248-49

299

Taiwan, 125-50 Taiwan Strait Crisis (1954), 126-34, 154 Taiwan Strait Crisis (1958), 138-42 teaching English, 16-18, 111-12 Temporary Equipment Removal Misskm (1ERM), 109, 120n29 TERM. See Temporary Equipment Removal Misskm Third World, vii, xii, xiv, xvii, xx, 34, 61-66, 271-73 Thorp, Willard, 64-65 Timberlake, Clare, 190 Training Relatkms iastructkm Misskm (TRIM), 108, 119n22 TRIM. See Training Relatkms Instructkm Misskm Truman, Harry, xii; and Africa, 176; and Central Intelligence Agency, 33; and econom ic aid, 55; and Indonesia, 77; and Israel, 226; and Natkmal Security Council, 29 UAR. See United Arab RepuMic United Arab RepuMic (UAR), 36, 232-33, 249, 251-53, 255-57, 261-62 United Fruit Company, 34 United Natkms Security Council, 188-89 United States Agency for International D evelopm ent (USAID), 52-53 United States inform atkm Agency (USIA), xvii-xviii, 6-7, 16-18, 111; and Atoms for Peace, 8-9; and Broum v. B oard o f E ducation, 13-14; and cultural diplomacy, 16-18; and Little Rock crisis, 13-15; and problem of third world nationalism , 10-11 United States Informatkm Service (USIS), 111 United States O peratioas Misskm (USOM), 106, 111, 114 United States-Taiwan Mutual D efease Treaty, 132 USAID. See United States Agency for International Developm ent USIA. See United States Information Agency

300

I ISIS. S iv United Stales Information Service USOM. See United States O perations Mission W adsworth, Jam es, 191-92 West Irian, 77-78, 156 West New Guinea. See West Irian Wilson, Charles, 226 World Bank, 50, 53. 60, 66

ItuL’.x

Yacim ientos P etm liferos Fiscales B olivianos i,YYYM), 205 YPFB. See Yacim ientos PetroUferos Fiscales B olilianos Yugoslavia, xv Zamora, Jaim e Paz, 197 Zliang Uaijia, 138 ZIkri Enlai, 128, 13 i-35: 139, 159, I72n24

About the Contributors

M k h ael R. A dam son (Ph.D., University of California, Santa Barbara, 2000) is an independent consultant in the field of business history. He worked in the Office of History of Science and Technology at the University of Califor­ nia, Berkeley from 2000 to 2002, has taught at Sonoma State University, and has done public history work for the U.S. Department of the Interior and NASA. His research focuses on foreign economic policy, international trade and finance, small business competitiveness, socioeconomic impacts of in­ dustrial development, and natural resource development. His essays have appeared in Diplomatic History, the Journal o f American-East Asian Rela­ tions, Presidential Studies Quarterly, the Journal o f Urban History, Business History Review, and American Sociological Review. He Is currently revising for publication his doctoral dissertation, “Inventing Foreign Aid: From Pri­ vate to Public Lending for Economic Development Purposes, 1919-1941.” D avid L. A n d erso n (Ph.D., University of Virginia, 1974) is dean of the Col­ lege of Undergraduate Programs at California State University, Monterey Bay. His publications include The H um an Tradition in America since 1945 (2003), Facing M y Lai: Moving Beyond the Massacre (1998), Trapped by Suc­ cess: The Eisenbotver Adm inistration a n d the Vietnam W ari 1991; winner of the Robert H. Ferrell Book Prize from the Society for Historians of American Foreign Relations), and Imperialism a n d Idealism: American Diplomats in China (1985). He is general editor of the book series, “Vietnam: America in the War Years,” published by Rowman & Littlefield.

301

m

AtxnU the C ontributors

Nathan J. C itino (Ph.D., The Ohio State University, 1999) is assistant p ro lessor of history at Colorado State University and the associate editor o f Diplomatic History. I le is the author of From Atrth Nationalism to OPEC: Eisenbotver, King Sand, a n d the M aking o f US.-Saudi Relations (2002), and has ank les published in Diplomatic History and Diplomacy & Statecraft. Peter L. Hahn (Ph.D., Vanderbilt University, 1987) is associate professor o f history at The Ohio Stale University and the executive director of the Society of Historians of American Foreign delations, lie specializes in U.S.Middle East relations and is the author of 7he United States, Great Britain, a n d Egypt, 1945-1956: Strategy a n d Diplomacy in the Early Cold War (1991), and co-editor (with Mary Ann Heiss) of Empire a nd Revolution: The United States a n d the Third World since 1945 (2001). He was named the 1997 recipient of the SHAFR Stuart L Bernath Lecture Prize. Andrew L. Joh n s (Ph.D., University of California, Santa Barbara, 2000) is assistant professor of history at Brigham Young University and an affiliate o f the David M. Kennedy Center for International Studies. His research focuses on U.S. foreign policy and the presidency, and his articles have appeared in Presidential Studies Quartetiy, the Journal o f American-East Asian Rela­ tions, and the Michigan Historical Retietv. He is currently completing books on Republican influence on U.S. Vietnam policy and Hubert Humphrey’s struggles with the Vietnam conflict. Robert J. McMahon (Ph.D., University of (Connecticut, 1977) is professor o f history at The Ohio State University. He is the author of The Limits o f Em­ pire: The United States a n d Southeast Asia since World War 11 (1999), The Cold War on the Periphery: The United States, India, a n d Pakistan (1994), and Colonialism a n d the Cold War: The United States a n d the Struggle fo r Indonesian lttdependettce, 7945-49 (1981). A past president of the Society for Historians of American Foreign Relations and former Fulbright Lecturer, he has also received SHAFR’s Stuart L. Bernath Lecture and Scholarly Article Prizes. Jam es H. M eriwether (Ph.D., University of California, Los Angeles, 1995) Is associate professor of history at California State University, Bakersfield. Ills book, Proudly We Can Be Africans: Black Am ericans a n d Africa, 1935-1961 was published by the University of North Carolina Press in 2002. He was a Fulbright Lecturer and Peace Corps volunteer in Africa. K enneth A. O sgood (Ph.D., University of California, Santa Barbara, 2001) is assistant professor of history at Florida Atlantic University. The co-editor (with Klaus Larres) of After Stalin ’s Death: The Cold War as International

A b o u t tb e C ontributors

303

History 1953-1956(forthcoming 2007), his articles on propaganda and psy­ chological warfare have appeared in Diplomatic History and The Journal o f Cold War Studies. His book, Total Cold War: Eisenhower’s Secret Propa­ ganda Battle at Home a n d Abroad, was recently published by the Univer­ sity Press of Kansas. C hester J. Pach Jr. (Ph.D., Northwestern University, 1981) is associate pro­ fessor of history at Ohio University. A former Fulbright Lecturer, he is the co­ author of The Presidency o f Dungbt D. Eisenhower (1991), Arm ing tbe Free World: The Origins o f the United States M ilitary Assistance Program, 1S>45-1950 (1991), and numerous articles on U.S. foreign relations, includ­ ing one which received the Society for Historians of American Foreign Rela­ tions Stuart L. Bernath Scholarly Article Prize in 1983- His current research fo­ cuses on television news reporting on the Vietnam War and the presidency of Ronald Reagan. Jason C Parker (Ph.D., University of Florida, 2002) is assistant professor of history at West Virginia University. His dissertation examined AngloAmerican relations and race in U.S. foreign policy towards the Caribbean, and an article based on his research was published in the International His­ tory Review. He was the recipient of the Society for Historians of American Foreign Relations W. Stull Holt Dissertation Fellowship, and won a Univer­ sity Teaching Award at the University of Florida in 2001. Joh n Prados (Ph.D., Columbia University, 1982) is an independent scholar and a consultant at the National Security Archive in Washington, D.C. An ex­ pert in national security affairs, military history, and U.S. intelligence opera­ tions, he is the author of several books, including Lost Crusader: The Secret Wars o f CIA Director William Colby (2003), Operation Vulture (2002), and Presidents’ Secret Wars: CIA a n d Pentagon Covert Operations fro m World War II through the Persian G ulf (1996). His work has been nominated for the Pulitzer Prize on two separate occasioas. Jam es F. Siekm eier (Ph.D., Cornell University, 1993) is a historian at the Of­ fice of the Historian at the United States Department of State, where he Is respoasible for the Foreign Relations o f the United States volumes on Latin America. His publications include the forthcoming book From Ihe to Che: The Bolivian Revolution a n d the United States, 1952-1971, Aid, National­ ism, a n d Inter-American Relations: Guatemala, Bolivia, a n d tbe United States, 1945-1961 (1999). He has also received two Fulbright Grants, and has taught at universities in the United States and Bolivia.

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A lunit tbe C ontributors

Kathryn C. Statler (Pli.D., University of California, Santa ßarhara, 1999) is associate professor of history at i Ik* University of San Diego and an associate at the Joan B. Kroc Institute of Peace and Justice. A specialist in FiancoAmerican relations and the Eisenhower administration, she lias published her work in tlie Journal oj'American-Past Asian Relations and as part of the edited volume, After Stalin’s Death: Ib eC o ld War as International History» 1953-1956(2005). Yi Sun (Ph.D., Washington State University, 1994) is associate professor of history at tlie University of San Diego. Her research focuses on U.S.-Chinese relations and cultural and women’s issues in China. She is the co-author (with Xiaohing Li) of Mapping tbe Historical Past o f Chinese Americans (in Cliinesel (2003), and has published a number of articles in both Chinese and English.