No More Vietnams

by Richard Nixon

  On April 30, 1975, with Soviet-built tanks rolling through the streets of Saigon, South Vietnam surrendered. Communist Khmer Rouge guerrillas had conquered Cambodia thirteen days before. Hanoi-backed Pathet Lao forces took over Laos a few days later. All the dominoes in Indochina had fallen.

  But the end of the war did not bring the beginning of peace for the peoples of Indochina. Those who had warned during the war that a bloodbath would follow a Communist victory found their worst fears confirmed. Communist forces now executed or imprisoned those who opposed them as they imposed their new rule. Thousands of Vietnamese were killed in Hanoi’s prison camps. Hundreds of thousands more drowned in the South China Sea as they fled in the pathetic flotillas of the “boat people.” And over 2 million Cambodians—a quarter of the country’s population—were killed in a brutal frenzy of Communist vengeance and destruction.

  Nor did the war’s end produce a more peaceful world. Our defeat in Vietnam paralyzed America’s will to act in other Third World trouble spots and therefore encouraged aggression on the part of those who had made them trouble spots to begin with. Over the next five years, Soviet clients and proxy forces unleashed a geopolitical offensive that led to stunning reversals for the United States in virtually every region of the world.

  • • •

  The Agreement on Ending the War and Restoring the Peace in Vietnam was not perfect. But it was adequate to ensure the survival of South Vietnam—as long as the United States stood ready to enforce its terms.

  Militarily, the agreement called for a cease-fire in place, followed by an American withdrawal and an exchange of prisoners of war within sixty days. It forbade both the United States and North Vietnam from sending more troops into South Vietnam. It permitted the United States and North Vietnam the piece-for-piece replacement—but only that—of military equipment and supplies used up after the cease-fire. It created two bodies—the Joint Military Commission and the International Commission on Control and Supervision—to verify the compliance of both sides.

  Politically, it directed Saigon to hold consultations with Communist and other non-Communist political parties to set up a National Council of National Reconciliation and Concord. The council’s principal task would be to organize free elections to select the government of South Vietnam. Also, to assist with national reconciliation, the United States pledged to contribute financial aid for postwar reconstruction throughout Indochina once the cease-fire was established.

  When we presented the draft agreement to President Thieu in January 1973, he strongly objected to it. Antiwar critics always portrayed him as a puppet of the United States. That was never the case. Whenever he perceived a threat to the South Vietnamese national interest in our actions, he became obdurate. This was the situation with the Paris peace accords. He called it a “surrender agreement” and categorically refused to sign it. Even after we exerted enormous pressure on him, Thieu would not budge. Only when we declared that we would sign the agreement without him if necessary did he reluctantly consent to it.

  I sympathized with Thieu and shared his concerns. I knew that the agreement contained serious weaknesses. But I believed that on balance it was sound. And I knew that, in light of the growing stridency of our opposition in Congress, we had no alternative to signing it.

  I saw two critical problems with the settlement. First, it was almost certain that the two commissions created to monitor the cease-fire would not work. Delegates from North and South Vietnam sat on the Joint Military Commission. Representatives of Hungary, Poland, Indonesia, and Canada formed the International Commission on Control and Supervision. Complaints about cease-fire violations were to be filed with these commissions, and their members were to determine who was at fault. These provisions appeared reasonable on paper. But they had a fundamental flaw. All commission rulings on cease-fire violations had to be approved by a unanimous vote of its members. This meant that the North Vietnamese or their Hungarian and Polish allies would be in a position to block all actions Hanoi opposed.

  However, I did not consider this a fatal flaw. Our high-altitude reconnaissance aircraft could photograph military convoys traveling along the Ho Chi Minh Trail and detect preparations for a major Communist offensive. If either of these became evident, I had no intention of waiting for a representative of Hungary or Poland to give his assent before I ordered retaliatory actions against North Vietnam.

  The second problem was that the agreement did not force North Vietnam to withdraw its armed forces from South Vietnam. We had, however, insisted on several provisions that mitigated this weakness. North Vietnam was not permitted to send in additional military personnel and agreed to respect the demilitarized zone and the neutrality of Laos and Cambodia. If Hanoi fully complied, its forces in South Vietnam would be isolated, completely cut off from new supplies and reinforcements. Still, I had no illusions about whether the North Vietnamese would try to circumvent these terms.

  That was Thieu’s greatest fear. He had no doubt that the Communists would try to use the cease-fire to build up their forces for a renewed assault on his country, keeping their shipments of troops and supplies at a level low enough to avoid provoking an American response. I was aware of this danger. If Hanoi chose this strategy—as I believed it would—I would be put in a difficult position politically. Mobilizing support in Congress for a retaliatory strike would be much harder if Hanoi’s cease-fire violation was merely a step-up in military shipments rather than an outright invasion. I thought this problem could be overcome. I was firmly determined not to grant the North Vietnamese the luxury of treading the thin line between mild encroachments and blatant violations.

  I saw two ways of evaluating the peace agreement: how it looked on paper, and how it worked on the ground. If the North Vietnamese observed its written terms in good faith, the South Vietnamese would have no problems. But I knew that was unlikely. As a rule, Hanoi broke international agreements as soon as it signed them. I did not expect the Paris accords to be an exception. Therefore, to ensure that the terms were observed on the ground, I issued two guaranties to Thieu: We would continue to send enough military aid to maintain the balance of power, and we would respond swiftly to North Vietnamese attempts to subvert the terms of the agreement. South Vietnam would handle minor violations of the ceasefire, and the United States would retaliate against major ones. This was the least we could do for our ally.

  Our military power was the principal disincentive to Hanoi’s breaking the cease-fire. But the Paris agreement contained carrots as well as sticks. Our offer of reconstruction aid was potentially one of the most important provisions in the agreement. During our negotiations, Hanoi had routinely demanded that the United States pay massive war reparations. We categorically rejected these demands. But I believed that it was in our interest to offer reconstruction aid to both sides. North Vietnam was in shambles. It desperately needed aid. Its Soviet and Chinese allies—who had their own economic problems—were unlikely donors. Therefore, once our aid began arriving in North Vietnam, Hanoi’s leaders would acquire a strong interest in having it continue. Our aid would become a powerful incentive for Hanoi to keep the peace.

  During our negotiations with Thieu in January 1973, I was painfully aware of the fact that the Paris accords were a political necessity if we were to continue aiding South Vietnam. Congress was ready to vote us out of the war if we did not get an agreement. Our legislative analysts expected a major challenge to our Vietnam policy as soon as Congress reconvened. If we waited until the battle in Congress was joined, Hanoi was certain to stall the talks again. On January 2, 1973, the House Democratic Caucus voted 154 to 75 in favor of cutting off all funds for military operations in Indochina as soon as arrangements were made for the safe withdrawal of American troops and the return of our prisoners of war. This would have been an abject surrender to North Vietnam’s most extreme demands. Two days later the Senate Democratic Caucus passed a similar resolution 36 to 12. We had run out of time.

  It was imperat
ive for us to conclude the Agreement on Ending the War and Restoring Peace in Vietnam. It was not perfect. It had some major weaknesses. I wished we could have negotiated a better one. But it was impossible for us to hold out for more favorable terms with Congress poised to legislate an end to our involvement on Hanoi’s terms.

  It was not our finest hour—but it was the final hour.

  • • •

  In early 1973, when we left South Vietnam, we left it in a strong position militarily. A stalemate existed on the battlefield: South Vietnam’s army had an advantage in military strength; North Vietnam’s forces countered this edge through an improvement in their overall strategic position. Our bombing of North Vietnam had ended with the cease-fire, and Communist troops continued to hold certain territories captured in 1972 that greatly complicated the defense of the rest of South Vietnam. But because it was militarily weak, Hanoi could not exploit its opportunities.

  In January 1973, the military balance of power was decisively in South Vietnam’s favor. Its army fielded over 450,000 troops, split about half and half between combat and support units. Its air force enlisted 54,000, and its navy 42,000. In addition, there were 325,000 troops in its Regional Forces and another 200,000 in its Popular Forces. North Vietnam’s strength stood between 500,000 and 600,000 troops. About 290,000 were in North Vietnam, 70,000 in Laos, and 25,000 in Cambodia. Only about 148,000 combat troops were in South Vietnam—which gave our ally at least a four-to-one advantage on the battlefield.

  We had tried to tip the balance of power toward the South Vietnamese by launching a massive resupply effort in late 1972. We undertook two operations—code-named Enhance and Enhance Plus—to replace equipment and supplies lost or expended during the 1972 offensive and to improve South Vietnam’s combat capability before the cease-fire agreement limited our aid to one-for-one replacements. Our deliveries included 175mm guns for three artillery battalions; M-48 tanks for two armored battalions; 286 UH-1 helicopters; 23 CH-47 airlift helicopters; 22 AC-119K gunships; 28 A-1 fighter aircraft; 32 C-130A cargo airplanes; 90 A-37 light bombers; 118 F-5A fighters; and 23 EC47 electronic reconnaissance airplanes. North Vietnam was also sending net equipment and supplies to its forces in South Vietnam as fast as it could, but our efforts outdistanced Hanoi’s by a wide margin.

  South Vietnam’s military advantage extended to all fronts. North Vietnam’s forces had suffered catastrophic losses during their 1972 offensive. Along the northern front, although the battle lines were several miles below the demilitarized zone, Hanoi’s army was pinned down trying to hold on to its gains. Some divisions were below 50 percent of their authorized strength. In the central highlands—where South Vietnam’s army was weakest—Communist forces could not advance beyond their limited territorial enclaves and held no significant towns. In the area around Saigon, North Vietnamese units were in total disarray. With many units below 30 percent of their normal strength, they posed no serious threat to South Vietnamese troops or civilians. In the Mekong delta—where 50 percent of South Vietnam’s people lived—North Vietnam’s forces were in dire straits. Some regular units had dwindled to 15 percent of their full strength.

  Hanoi faced a grim outlook. It had lost over 190,000 troops in 1972, yet had won very little territory. Saigon controlled all significant commerce, all important lines of communication, and all population centers. Communist sources admitted that South Vietnam ruled over 80 percent of its territory and 87 percent of its population. Hanoi told its forces in the South not to expect a large-scale offensive for at least three to five years. “Our troops were exhausted and their units in disarray,” a North Vietnamese general later wrote. “We had not been able to make up our losses. We were short of manpower as well as food and ammunition, and coping with the enemy was very difficult.” Communist morale and combat effectiveness were hitting an all-time low.

  • • •

  But that still did not mean that the North Vietnamese would abide by the peace agreement. Hanoi’s definition of a ceasefire was that we cease and they fire.

  We expected the North Vietnamese to make a last-minute military push to seize control of as much territory and population as possible before the cease-fire took effect. This had happened when an agreement seemed imminent in October. It had failed then because their attack came two full weeks before the prospective cease-fire and their forces were too weak to hold on to their gains. In January both sides tried to seize a few strategic points as the cease-fire approached. But as the agreement was being initialed in Paris, North Vietnamese forces launched a series of raids throughout South Vietnam and continued it after the cease-fire was to have gone into effect.

  While Hanoi’s regular units pinned down Saigon’s in fixed positions, Communist guerrillas took over hundreds of hamlets, raising their flag in the hope of asserting a claim on them when the cease-fire lines were drawn. But their successes were shortlived. South Vietnamese territorial forces struck back quickly and effectively. Two weeks later the Communists had suffered over 5,000 killed in action; and out of the 400 hamlets they had attacked, only twenty-three were still reported as contested. Saigon even expanded its control in some areas.

  Antiwar critics charged that both Saigon and Hanoi were violating the cease-fire because both were fighting. But they overlooked the fact that one side was on the offensive and the other on the defensive. In their eagerness to absolve Hanoi by finding equal fault with Saigon, they failed to note that there was a difference between shooting first and shooting back.

  Once its land-grabbing raids were repulsed, Hanoi began blatantly violating the prohibition on sending additional troops and supplies into South Vietnam. Both sides in South Vietnam were allowed to replace equipment destroyed or worn out after the cease-fire on a piece-for-piece basis. Arms transfers were to take place at designated entry points under the scrutiny of the International Commission on Control and Supervision. Hanoi disregarded these rules from the start. Checkpoints were never set up, because the North Vietnamese refused to establish them. In early February our reconnaissance aircraft sighted a convoy of 175 military trucks moving across the demilitarized zone and a column of 223 tanks driving down the Ho Chi Minh Trail toward South Vietnam.

  Soon, North Vietnamese reinforcements and supplies were coming into South Vietnam at unprecedented rates, exceeding even those just before the 1972 invasion. By May 1973, Hanoi had shipped in over 35,000 troops and more than 30,000 tons of matériel.

  Nor did Hanoi comply with other key provisions of the Paris peace agreement. It did not withdraw its troops from Cambodia and Laos or stop using their territories as a logistic base. It refused to free several hundred South Vietnamese prisoners of war. It obstructed the negotiations on creating the National Council of National Reconciliation and Concord, and thereby thwarted the plan for new national elections. It observed only those clauses in the agreement from which it benefited.

  Despite the dedicated efforts of its Indonesian and Canadian members, the International Commission on Control and Supervision did nothing to prevent North Vietnamese cease-fire violations. Hanoi quickly demonstrated that it had no intention of cooperating with the commission in any way. Hungarian and Polish representatives acted as loyal proxies of the North Vietnamese. Since the commission required unanimous consent for all actions, the Communist-bloc members were able to veto all motions contrary to the interests of the North Vietnamese. Hanoi’s delegates similarly stalemated the Joint Military Commission.

  North Vietnam, not content with having paralyzed the machinery for international supervision, now sought to destroy it. On April 7, while flying over Quang Tri Province along Route 9 toward the Laos border, two commission helicopters were shot down by North Vietnamese forces. One crashed after being hit with a heat-seeking surface-to-air antiaircraft missile, killing all nine passengers and crew; the other was forced to make an emergency landing after being damaged by small-arms and machine-gun fire. It was a brutal warning from Hanoi: Anyone who sought to monitor North Vietnamese complia
nce with the cease-fire would be making a fatal mistake. No one missed the point. Canada soon announced its withdrawal from the commission on the grounds that its delegates were observing a war instead of supervising a peace.

  While Hanoi brazenly broke key provisions of the peace agreement, a shocking double standard operated in news-media reports about cease-fire compliance. South Vietnam—which permitted international scrutiny of its actions—received devastating criticism whenever it undertook any military actions, even if they were taken in retaliation or reprisal. Hanoi—which shot down those seeking to monitor its behavior—received hardly even a slap on the wrist.

  Among objective observers there was no doubt that it was Hanoi which was undermining the cease-fire. With direct reference to North Vietnam, Michel Gauvin, the departing head of Canada’s delegation to the international supervisory commission, explained that they were leaving because of the failure of “some parties to cease-fire agreement to live up to their commitment.”

  • • •

  Hanoi’s blatant breach of the Paris agreement outraged me. I was determined to respond with force if its serious cease-fire violations continued. I was able to take several counteractions. But two developments—the outcry over Watergate and the backlash against Vietnam in Congress—prevented me from doing more.