Camelot's Court: Inside the Kennedy White House

  At the same time, Kennedy saw the wisdom of resolving the Cuban problem by diplomacy. He was more than skeptical of CIA recommendations on Cuba. During a meeting with Kennedy at the White House on October 10, Foreign Minister Gromyko complained that the United States was subjecting Cuba to constant pressure and provocation. Kennedy conceded that there was no “benefit to the US from harassment. This would not unseat Castro and serve no useful purpose.” To mute worries about Cuba in the United States and pressure on him to topple Castro, Kennedy asked that Khrushchev publicly announce the departure of all Soviet military personnel from the island. Remembering that the Joint Chiefs had emphasized how important it was to get Soviet troops out of Cuba—they described the Western Hemisphere as having been invaded, as long as Russian forces were in Cuba—Kennedy saw their departure as certain to ease the pressure on him to help exiles drive the communists from the island.

  Ending agitation about Cuba by reaching a modus vivendi with Castro also appealed to Kennedy and several of his top advisers—Bobby Kennedy, a convert to his brother’s softer line, Bundy, McNamara, and Stevenson. After Kennedy had given Stevenson approval to pursue Attwood’s initiative, Bundy instructed Chase, his deputy at the NSC, to speak to Attwood about the results of a conversation with Lechuga. Attwood reported that Lechuga suggested an envoy travel to Cuba for a conversation with Castro, but Attwood, mindful of the political embarrassment to the White House from any leak of an administration approach to Havana, urged Lechuga to hold secret conversations in New York at the U.N. headquarters. Lechuga was not hopeful that Castro would let anyone speak for him outside of Cuba or that anything would come of conversations: He saw Castro as “too well boxed in by such hardliners as Guevara to be able to maneuver much.”

  Still, the president, Bobby Kennedy, Bundy, and Stevenson thought the reach for an accommodation worth pursuing. Bundy told Attwood that the president favored “pushing towards an opening toward Cuba” that could remove Castro from “the Soviet fold and perhaps wiping out the Bay of Pigs and maybe getting back to normal.” When Castro agreed to see Attwood in Havana, Kennedy, according to Bobby, “gave the go ahead.” Attwood planned to go in December or January. He was to insist on the exit of the Russian military in Cuba, a “cutoff of ties with the Communists by Cuba, and the end of the exportation of revolution.” It was conceivable that Castro could expel the Soviet military and even call a halt to subversion in the hemisphere. But ending his ties with the communists seemed highly unlikely, even if it was conceivable that he could mute his connections to the Soviet bloc.

  At the same time that Attwood prepared to go to Cuba, Kennedy agreed to see Jean Daniel, a French journalist at L’Express, who was traveling to Havana to interview Castro. Kennedy waved aside a discussion of Indochina in order to focus on Cuba. He began by acknowledging that U.S. policy had contributed to Cuba’s “humiliation and exploitation” under Castro’s predecessor, Fulgencio Batista. “I believe that we created, built and manufactured the Castro movement out of whole cloth and without realizing it,” Kennedy said. “Batista was the incarnation of a number of sins on the part of the United States. Now we shall have to pay for those sins.” He described himself as sympathetic to “the first Cuban revolutionaries.” But Castro had betrayed the revolution by becoming “a Soviet agent in Latin America.” Worse, he had almost caused a nuclear war between the United States and the Soviet Union. Kennedy ended the interview by telling Daniel: “Come and see me on your return from Cuba. Castro’s reactions interest me.”

  On October 31, Attwood received word that Castro “would very much like to talk to the U.S. official anytime and appreciated the importance of discretion to all concerned.” He was “willing to send a plane to Mexico to pick up the official and fly him to a private airport . . . where Castro would talk to him alone. . . . In this way there would be no risk of identification at Havana airport.” It would also allow him to hide the conversation from anyone in his government opposed to a rapprochement with the United States. Concerned that an intermediary might misrepresent his views or that he might leak the conversation to opponents of even preliminary talks with a Washington representative, Castro “wanted to do the talking himself.” However, he would not rule out delegating the responsibility to someone else “if there was no other way of engaging a dialogue.”

  Like Castro, Kennedy found that some in his inner circle also opposed any kind of reconciliation. The State Department’s Office of American Republic Affairs insisted that renewed relations with Cuba depended first on the island’s separation from the Sino-Soviet bloc, a repudiation of any affiliation with communism, and the restoration of expropriated properties and free enterprise. Predictably, McCone joined the State Department’s hard line by insisting at a November 12 meeting that the sabotage programs and economic sanctions were weakening Castro. Tired of CIA pressure about Cuba that led to no change, Kennedy pointedly asked whether the sabotage program “was worthwhile and whether it would accomplish our purpose.” Rusk chimed in by discounting the value of “hit-and-run sabotage tactics,” though he “said we must replace Castro” and favored the “infiltration of black teams” and “internal sabotage” as well as economic sanctions. Rusk’s on-the-one-hand, on-the-other-hand waffling here underscored Kennedy’s irritation with him. By the end of the meeting, the group, which included CIA, national security, and State Department officials, agreed to continue “CIA sabotage operations.” Fear of leaks that could make him look weak on Cuba dictated that Kennedy not squelch CIA ops.

  It did not, however, deter Kennedy from encouraging additional discussions with the Cubans about better relations. Kennedy sent word to Attwood through Bundy that he did not see it as “practicable . . . at this stage to send an American official to Cuba.” He preferred that a Cuban official meet Attwood at the U.N. to learn if “there was any prospect of important modification in those parts of Castro’s policy which are flatly unacceptable to us: namely, . . . submission to external Communist influence, and a determined campaign of subversion directed at the rest of the Hemisphere.” Bundy emphasized that a reversal of these policies might not be enough to alter the current estrangement, but without a dramatic shift in policy, a visit to Cuba by a U.S. representative would be pointless. Ever mindful of how a proposal for altering relations could be a political time bomb in the United States, Kennedy instructed Bundy to make clear “that we were not supplicants in this matter and that the initiative for exploratory conversations was coming from the Cubans.”

  Castro was not prepared to concede anything. Agreeing to Washington’s demands would have been a repudiation of his own administration. Nonetheless, he remained eager to explore ways to end hostile relations, which were causing economic hardship on the island and threatening to destroy his government, or at least his hold on power. On November 18, Castro advised Attwood through an intermediary that the invitation to visit Cuba remained open and reiterated that it could be secretly arranged. Attwood diplomatically declined, explaining that an initial discussion in New York was essential to make clear that productive conversations would follow. The Cubans agreed to set an agenda for a meeting between Attwood and Lechuga in preparation for a later meeting with Castro.

  The same day Castro responded to Attwood, Kennedy spoke in Miami about Cuba before the Inter-American Press Association. Kennedy’s speech, which was written by Richard Goodwin in consultations with Bundy and Schlesinger, aimed to advance talks with Castro. Kennedy said that Latin America’s problems “would not be solved simply by complaining about Castro, by blaming all problems on communism.” But Castro and communism had alienated Cuba from the United States and other hemisphere countries. “It is the fact that a small band of conspirators has stripped the Cuban people of their freedom and handed over the independence and sovereignty of the Cuban nation to forces beyond the hemisphere. They have made Cuba . . . a weapon in an effort dictated by external powers to subvert the other American Republics. This, and this alone, divide us. As long as this is true, n
othing is possible. Without it, everything is possible. Once this barrier is removed, we will be ready and anxious to work with the Cuban people.” The message was clear enough: If the Cuban government distanced itself from Moscow and abandoned subversive efforts to promote communism in Latin America, a new day could rise in relations with the United States.

  During three weeks in Havana, Jean Daniel had tried unsuccessfully to meet with Castro. On the night of November 19, the day after Kennedy’s speech, Castro showed up unannounced at Daniel’s hotel, where they spoke until four in the morning. Daniel reported his conversation with Kennedy. Castro asked Daniel to repeat three times what Kennedy had said about Batista and how Castro had almost caused a nuclear war. He acknowledged that Kennedy was someone with whom he could talk, calling him an “intimate enemy.” At the same time, he denied any concern about the United States and wondered why Kennedy couldn’t accept him as the United States had accepted Tito, Yugoslavia’s communist leader, who had separated himself from Russia. Signaling his interest in a possible rapprochement with Washington, Castro said he had some hope that Kennedy might become “the greatest President of the United States” by being “the leader who may at last understand that there can be coexistence between capitalists and socialists.” He ended the conversation by telling Daniel, “You are going to see Kennedy again, be an emissary of peace. . . . There are positive elements in what you report.” Neither Kennedy nor Castro knew if they could find enough common ground to reduce tensions to the point where they could reestablish formal Cuban-American relations. But the recent exchanges suggested that things were certainly moving in a new direction.

  During the summer and fall, as the test ban treaty came to fruition and exchanges with Castro raised hopes of better relations, Vietnam had become a greater administration problem.

  Pressure on Diem to settle the Buddhist crisis and reassurances that the United States had only the best of intentions toward him were ineffective. On July 1, at a State Department meeting, George Ball, Harriman, Hilsman, and Forrestal concluded that a further outbreak of government tensions with the Buddhists, including another immolation of a bonze, was imminent. Nolting, who was in Washington, needed to return to Saigon at once and Lodge’s tenure needed to be moved up from September to early August. They discussed urging Diem to separate himself from the Nhus, who were identified as the leaders in the campaign against the Buddhists. Should new rioting occur, the administration would need to make a strong public protest despite danger that it might trigger a coup.

  Kennedy was in Rome on a triumphal four-nation trip. Having put his civil rights bill before Congress on June 10 and won an outpouring of approval from European audiences, especially in Berlin, where a crowd of perhaps one hundred thousand had roared their approval of his sympathetic pronouncement, “Ich bin ein Berliner,” Kennedy was at the height of his presidency. In his absence, the State Department, convinced it was serving Kennedy’s goal of a timely exit from Vietnam, advised Kennedy of its warning to Diem that further incidents involving the Buddhists would compel the United States to take its distance from him.

  On July 4, after his return from Europe, Kennedy met with Ball, Harriman, Bundy, Hilsman, and Forrestal to discuss the ongoing crisis in Vietnam. They advised him that the Nhus were continuing to provoke tensions with the Buddhists and that fresh demonstrations aimed at overturning Diem were likely. The group discussed getting rid of the Nhus but didn’t think it would be possible. They agreed that coup attempts were likely over the next four months, but couldn’t say if any of them would succeed. If one did, they hoped it wouldn’t produce chaos. Forrestal reported Marine General Victor Krulak as saying that in any case, the South Vietnamese would continue to fight the communists. Kennedy focused on when Lodge would be able to replace Nolting in Saigon. He was eager to get him there as soon as possible. His unspoken concern was that Lodge should be in his post if and when a coup occurred. Lodge could give Kennedy political cover should congressional Republicans complain that the White House had facilitated, if not orchestrated, Diem’s demise and a possible collapse of the war effort.

  What was Kennedy supposed to believe? The disarray in Vietnam was increasing and destabilizing the government. The journalists in Saigon were describing an untidy war and, according to the embassy, were “saying quite openly to anyone who will listen that they would like to see regime overthrown.” They manifested “intense hatred of all things GVN.” The government also saw them as “actively encouraging the Buddhists.” A “swift unprovoked and violent attack by government plain clothes police” on journalists covering an otherwise peaceful Buddhist religious ceremony did not surprise the embassy, though it provoked a telegram of complaint from the correspondents to President Kennedy.

  At the same time, Krulak, who had spent a week traveling in Vietnam during the last week of June to update the Chiefs, remained optimistic about Diem and chances of winning the war. He had mainly visited the provinces, where he took Vietnamese military officers at their word and reported that “the counterinsurgency campaign is moving forward on the military and economic fronts. There is reason for optimism in both of these areas.” The Strategic Hamlets program was working well. Offensive operations had thrown the Viet Cong on the defensive. U.S. advisers were working effectively with their Vietnamese counterparts. While the Buddhist difficulties were serious, they had not adversely affected military operations. Nolting was equally hopeful that Diem would resolve problems with the Buddhists. A coup would be a disaster: It would split the country into feuding factions, and the communists would win control of all Vietnam. By contrast with Krulak and Nolting, the CIA field chief in Saigon saw a volatile situation that put Diem’s regime in considerable peril. On July 9, when Forrestal sized up the situation for Bundy, he described a dilemma: No one was able to offer confident estimates of whether Diem would survive. People in Saigon were more hopeful than analysts in Washington. Forrestal suggested a period of fence sitting while they waited on developments.

  At a July 17 press conference, where Kennedy focused on nuclear test ban negotiations in Moscow and the domestic economy, he steered clear of Vietnam until halfway through the session, when a reporter asked if the turmoil was impeding the war effort. “Yes, I think it has,” Kennedy said. He regretted that it had arisen just as the military situation was improving. But he declared: “We are not going to withdraw. . . . For us to withdraw . . . would mean a collapse not only of South Vietnam, but Southeast Asia.” The dominoes would fall and U.S. national security would diminish. In brief, he more than implied that U.S. withdrawal would depend on victory in the conflict or at least the appearance of victory. In the meantime, his policy toward the Buddhist crisis in Vietnam was one of watchful waiting.

  At the end of July, a report from Robert Manning, the assistant secretary of state for public affairs, whom Kennedy had asked to visit Vietnam to assess the tensions between the government and the press corps, concluded that there was “an unbridgeable gap between the official and the correspondent’s assessment of the Vietnamese situation.” The embassy saw great progress in the war, while the journalists thought that the war was being lost as long as the Diem government remained in power. The two sides in the debate had nothing but contempt for each other. For Kennedy, it was essential that the press begin to put a better face on the war. Since he had committed himself publicly to saving South Vietnam, he could not end or sharply limit U.S. involvement in the conflict if the newsmen, who simply refused to conform to embassy wishes, kept writing about a Vietnam in disarray and a faltering war effort.

  On August 5, when the press reported a renewed government crackdown on the Buddhists and another self-immolation, the embassy was instructed to warn Diem and the Nhus that they were courting disaster, with Washington poised to denounce their actions. The next day, Hilsman calculated the chances of a coup as fifty-fifty and the likelihood of success as also even. He told George Ball that the department was continuously reviewing its contingency plans and maintaining co
ntacts with oppositionist elements in hopes of shaping the outcome of any uprising. Because Diem’s continued control seemed to be reducing hopes of defeating the Viet Cong, the department thought better of a coup. The press corps was all over these latest developments, reporting the Nhus as driving the government into greater conflict with the Buddhists and pressing Diem to take decisive action against them. Madame Nhu’s comment that “all the Buddhists had done was to ‘barbecue a bonze’ with ‘imported gasoline’” had moved the department to ask Diem to send her out of the country. “No decisions are required from you at this time,” Forrestal told Kennedy, “but you may wish to give some guidance during the next week when it becomes more clear what the real intentions of the GVN or the Buddhists are.”

  On August 15, Kennedy met with Lodge before he headed to Saigon. They discussed the possibility of Diem’s ouster. Kennedy thought that he “was entering a terminal phase.” While Kennedy was not averse to seeing Diem ousted, he wished to be sure that his successor would be a more cooperative and effective ally. The press, they agreed, was a serious problem. Kennedy saw relations between the embassy and journalists as the worst to be found in any foreign capital. He wanted Lodge to take charge of press relations, which was code for telling him to bring the newsmen under greater control. Lodge anticipated difficulties handling them. He would not lie to them, but he had no plans to cooperate with them. Kennedy saw the journalists as instinctively liberal and anti-Diem. Two years before, they had been dead wrong in predicting Diem’s fall in six months, he said. The Associated Press photo of the monk burning himself alive had generated more emotion around the world than any other photo he could think of.