Kennedy, of course, could not control the press. And so on August 15, when Halberstam reported that the war was going badly, despite increased U.S. involvement during the last twenty months, and that Diem’s forces were losing control of the Mekong Delta, the key area of the country, Kennedy’s antagonism to the journalists increased. Krulak gave him some comfort by explaining that Halberstam did not understand that American strategy was working and that the greater concentration of communist troops in the delta was evidence that they were being compressed into the southernmost part of the country, where they would “rot.” “If Halberstam understood clearly this strategy, he might not have undertaken to write his disingenuous article,” Krulak told McNamara.
For all his antagonism to the press, Kennedy could not dismiss their stories as biased reporting. He did not trust what the military was telling him. Their advice on the Bay of Pigs, Laos, the missile crisis, and their response to the Mississippi civil rights crisis the previous year had soured him on their judgment and accuracy. At the same time, Mike Mansfield told him that “we are in for a very long haul to develop even a modicum of stability in Viet Nam.” He reminded Kennedy that he needed to ask whether Vietnam had taken on “a highly inflated importance and, hence, talked ourselves into the present bind.” Had the administration “moved what may be essentially a peripheral situation to the core of our policy considerations?” By contrast with Mansfield’s advice to reduce our commitment, the Joint Chiefs urged a delay in a decision McNamara had made in May to withdraw one thousand troops by the end of the year and keep them there until conditions had stabilized in Vietnam.
On August 21, when reports came in of a government crackdown on Buddhist pagodas all over the country and a declaration of martial law by the military, the State Department and White House felt more engulfed than ever in the fog of war. The initial impulse was to denounce the government’s actions, but with Lodge on his way to Saigon and questions in the air as to who had authorized the raids, Kennedy chose to hold back on any statement or action. During a meeting at the White House, Ball, Harriman, and Krulak agreed that caution and clarification were the best approach for the moment. Responding to the upheaval described in press reports instead of embassy accounts especially bothered Kennedy; he wanted to know what American officials in Saigon thought had occurred, not what journalists were telling their editors and readers. The first cable to Lodge asked him to find out what had happened and to report who was controlling events—Diem, the Nhus, or the South Vietnamese army.
Embassy dispatches over the next two days made clear that there had been no coup and that the Nhus were behind the anti-Buddhist campaign. Diem’s national security adviser now told the U.S. Embassy to do everything possible to get rid of the Nhus. The Vietnamese army would turn against them if the United States made its opposition to them clear. Vietnamese generals gave the embassy the same message. Before he had acquainted himself with his staff and office or learned his way around Saigon, Lodge found himself in the middle of a palace intrigue. It was the price of U.S. involvement in Vietnam’s civil war and its byzantine politics.
Lodge was uncertain about whom to trust and urged the department to hold off on making any major decisions. More disturbing was a memo from the public affairs counselor at the embassy to Lodge describing the split between the press and the American mission in Saigon as well as among members of the U.S. military command. The journalists and the mission were at odds over whether the war was going well or badly, but so were members of the military advisory group. The 18,000 or 19,000 Americans in the country “are torn by doubt,” Lodge’s adviser told him. No one knew whom to believe, including Kennedy, who had recently asked for a factual assessment of the fighting and prospects for a successful outcome.
On August 24, Forrestal advised Kennedy that the embassy had sorted out recent events in Saigon: “It is now quite certain that Brother Nhu is the mastermind behind the whole operation against the Buddhists and is calling the shots.” The remedy was to remove Nhu from power—with or without Diem’s approval. Harriman and Hilsman agreed, and they were consulting John McCone at the CIA on how to get this done. A cable to Lodge that night stated that the U.S. government could no longer live with the Nhus. Diem had to remove them or face a break with Washington. The United States would support new leadership. Lodge was to find the means to achieve the stated ends and the White House would back him “to the hilt.”
When shown the cable and told that Kennedy had approved its dispatch, Taylor complained to Krulak that the action represented an end run around accepted procedure. It did “not give Diem adequate chance to do what we want.” Taylor, who opposed dumping Diem, said that it reflected “the well-known compulsion of Hilsman and Forrestal to depose Diem and, had McGeorge Bundy been present [in Washington], he would not have approved the message.”
On August 26, Kennedy met with his top eleven State, Defense, NSC, and CIA officials. Hilsman reported on the embassy’s approach to principal Vietnamese generals to enlist them in the ouster of Nhu in collaboration with Diem or in Diem’s removal as well. Kennedy now voiced doubts about encouraging or facilitating a coup. He wanted to know more about the generals who might replace Diem and said: “Diem and his brother, however repugnant in some respects, have done a great deal along the lines that we desire.” His greatest concern was that they were responding to pressure from the New York Times and Halberstam in particular. “He’s a 28-year-old kid,” Kennedy said, and complained that he had been wrong in the past. Kennedy “wanted assurances we were not giving him serious consideration. . . . It was essential that we not permit Halberstam unduly to influence our actions.” Kennedy was less concerned about Halberstam than about rushing into a coup that would deepen American involvement in Vietnam without any guarantees that a new government would fare any better in the civil war than the previous one.
Kennedy made his reservations more evident by asking Taylor, who he knew opposed displacing Diem, whether he thought coup plans could succeed. Taylor caustically answered “that in Washington we would not turn over the problem of choosing a head of state to the military.” McNamara joined Taylor in raising questions about a coup, asking, “What exactly do we mean . . . by the term ‘direct support’?” which Lodge was instructed to tell the generals the United States was prepared to provide. Kennedy then questioned the likelihood that Diem would allow his brother Nhu to “be ejected from the scene.” McNamara worried that the United States would “ultimately suffer” if “a weak man got in the presidency,” replacing Diem. Kennedy wanted to know what would happen if the United States had to continue living with Diem and Nhu. Hilsman thought it would be “horrible.” Rusk declared, “Unless a major change in GVN policy can be engineered, we must actually decide whether to move our resources out or to move our troops in.” Kennedy did not want to choose either step. He asked that Nolting, who was certain to defend Diem, be brought into the discussion. When Hilsman objected that “Nolting’s views are colored, in that he is emotionally involved in the situation,” Kennedy responded, “Maybe properly.”
While the White House debated policy in Vietnam, Nguyen Khanh, the lead general in the coup discussions, saved Kennedy from a decision by telling the CIA station chief in Saigon that he wasn’t ready to move. He intended to wait until Nhu gave him a clearer motive for an uprising: If Nhu tried for a rapprochement with Hanoi, it would give the generals legal grounds for action. Forrestal reported Khanh’s inaction to Kennedy. He wanted a pretext for a coup, which they didn’t have. The generals simply weren’t ready to risk their lives and so it relieved Kennedy of a decision he preferred not to make.
But the problem of what to do about Vietnam wasn’t going away. After the meeting on the twenty-sixth, Forrestal urged Kennedy to understand that a majority of Vietnamese believed that the repression of the Buddhists could not have occurred without American equipment, wanted Diem out, and looked to the United States for change. Moreover, the next day, a CIA report that the Vietnamese generals were now promising
a coup in a week forced Kennedy to give further consideration to U.S. support. Forrestal told him that the generals wanted some clearer expression of U.S. backing. With another meeting scheduled for the afternoon of the twenty-seventh, Forrestal suggested that Kennedy close the meeting by saying that the United States could not support a government dominated by Nhu, preferred to keep Diem in power but would leave it to the generals to decide, and would wholeheartedly back whatever new regime emerged as long as it prosecuted the war against the Viet Cong.
The 4 P.M. meeting now expanded to sixteen advisers, again including all the leading State, Defense, and CIA officials as well as Robert Kennedy and Nolting. McNamara began the discussion by insisting that the president didn’t need to decide anything that day. Kennedy at once indicated his inclination to avoid endorsing a coup, by asking Nolting whether the generals could carry off a successful rebellion. Nolting was scathing: The generals, he said, “haven’t the guts of Diem or Nhu. They will be badly split. They do not have real leadership, and they do not control the predominant military force in the country.” He had “grave doubts” about any effective action. McNamara echoed Nolting’s reservations, saying the coup generals lacked sufficient forces. When Kennedy asked Nolting about Diem’s reliability, he emotionally replied that “Diem had kept his promises. . . . Diem is not a liar and is a man of integrity.” Hilsman, with equal fervor, disputed Nolting’s characterization of Diem as honest. It angered Nolting, who had abandoned any pretense of objective reporting; he saw his reputation as a successful envoy tied to Diem’s survival and success in the civil war.
But Kennedy was less interested in Diem’s character than whether a coup might succeed, saying he saw no point in backing an abortive strike. Nolting assured Kennedy that the military could not carry off an effective rebellion. Kennedy was more concerned to know if Diem was capable of winning the war. Nolting didn’t know—so he counseled patience, saying a coup could always come later. In the meantime, the United States had created a problem by telling some of the generals to remove Diem. Kennedy thought that the embassy could certainly delay action. Hilsman warned, “The longer we wait the harder it would be to get Diem out.” Kennedy wanted to hear from Lodge and Harkins on the chances for a successful coup, or so he said. But he had already decided against immediately trying to change the government, saying “the generals interested in the coup were not good enough to bring it about.”
The struggle over how to proceed continued for another forty-eight hours. On the twenty-eighth, cables arrived from Lodge and the CIA chief in Saigon asserting that delaying a coup would diminish chances of success, with the danger that Diem might arrest the generals plotting against him. Vietnamese vice president Nguyen Ngoc Tho told Lodge that a coup was essential. A continuation of current conditions would endanger U.S.-Vietnamese relations. The CIA station chief warned that Vietnam would be lost to the communists if the Diem government remained in place.
Meanwhile, back in Washington, a White House meeting at noon on August 28, attended by twenty officials, including Kennedy, erupted in a fierce argument. Taylor launched the debate by explaining that even though anti-Diem troops would outnumber loyal forces, a small number of tough Diem loyalists could beat them back. George Ball believed that a coup was necessary to rid the country of the Nhus to ensure victory in the war. The only question was how to arrange a successful coup. McNamara doubted that it could be done. Kennedy said, well then, it shouldn’t go forward. Nolting restated his opposition to a coup, predicting that a new government would not do any better in the fighting. Ball, Harriman, and Hilsman countered that Diem had shown that he couldn’t win the war. They saw no choice but to oust him. Kennedy wasn’t ready to agree. He restated doubts that rebel generals could defeat Diem and asked for suggestions on how to build up the anti-Diem forces.
Hilsman and Harriman saw no choice but to go ahead. Without a coup, the United States would lose in Vietnam and would have to withdraw. Besides, they said, “We can’t stop the generals now and they must go forward or die.” Kennedy again demurred: He suggested that they go back to Lodge and Harkins and explain that Diem seemed to hold the balance of power and ask their advice on what to do. Nolting said that the president was right: “only Diem can hold this fragmented country together.” Harriman now exploded in anger at Nolting, saying he had disagreed with Nolting from the beginning and that he was “profoundly wrong,” adding that the stakes in this debate compelled him to be so blunt. Gilpatric later recalled that this was the worst “tongue lashing” he had seen in Kennedy’s presence and doubted that anyone other than Harriman, with his seniority, could have gotten away with it. Bobby Kennedy saw the division in the room as a very disturbing fundamental break in his brother’s government. Kennedy now adjourned the meeting to let tempers cool and provide time for some reflection before they reconvened at six.
At the evening meeting, Kennedy put any decision on hold by directing that cables be sent to Lodge and Harkins in Saigon saying that nothing had been decided in Washington. Instead, he wanted their judgment on whether the generals were ready to act, and if not, he recommended a temporary stand-down from a coup, or no coup at all. As Taylor now emphasized to Harkins, “We do not want to become involved in any coup which will not succeed.” Harriman saw the cables for what they were—an expression of Kennedy’s doubts about promoting a coup that would inevitably draw the United States more deeply into Vietnam.
As the meeting ended, Harriman said to Kennedy, “I hope we are not giving any idea of wobbling on our course.” Kennedy replied: “We have to make sense; we must not let the field feel that we are in any way heavy-handed, or obliging them to take actions which are not, in their good judgment, sound.” A memo describing the exchange noted: “The President had some difficulty containing himself until everyone had left the room, whereupon he burst into laughter and said, ‘Averell Harriman is one sharp cookie.’” Harriman, who was the strongest advocate of promoting and ensuring the success of a coup, understood that Kennedy wasn’t eager or even willing to do it.
During all this debate over Vietnam, Kennedy struggled to keep black demands for equal rights under control. On June 22, as he was about to go to Europe, he had met with civil rights leaders at the White House. His agenda was to encourage them to contain demonstrations that might jeopardize the civil rights bill before Congress. He warned against a planned march on Washington that could turn some members of Congress against the bill, saying, “I’m damned if I will vote for it at the point of a gun.” But the civil rights leaders believed that a peaceful demonstration would do more to energize and promote a law than undermine it. As the meeting ended, Roy Wilkins conveyed to Schlesinger “his sympathy for the President in view of the pressures playing on him, the choices he had to make, the demands on his time and energy.” On August 28, the march of some 250,000 people was an affirmation of peaceful democratic expression of which, Kennedy told the march’s leaders at a White House meeting that evening, “[t]his nation can be properly proud.” While the march worked no miracles on the Hill, where Kennedy’s legislative initiative stalled in the Senate, it momentarily quieted this most volatile domestic issue and allowed Kennedy to return to the crisis in Vietnam.
The pressure on Kennedy to give the go-ahead for a coup was unrelenting. On the twenty-ninth, in response to his request for an independent judgment, Lodge declared, “Any course is risky, and no action at all is perhaps the riskiest. . . . We are launched on a course from which there is no respectable turning back.” It was already an open secret that the United States favored a coup. More to the point, Lodge warned that Diem could not win the war. Because Harkins believed that a coup might be unnecessary if Diem ousted Nhu and because McNamara saw no alternative to Diem, Kennedy instructed the embassy in Saigon to make a final effort to pressure Diem into dismissing Nhu. But doubtful that Diem would accept the advice, Kennedy confirmed the earlier decision to inform the Vietnamese generals of U.S. backing for a change of government. Nonetheless, if he had la
st-minute doubts that an uprising would be successful, he insisted on the freedom to change course. “I know from experience,” he told Lodge, “that failure is more destructive than an appearance of indecision.” Lodge, however, cautioned him that a coup could take on a momentum of its own, and “you may not be able to control it.”
The problem, however, was not a runaway operation, but, as Lodge reported by cable on August 30, “inertia. The days come and go and nothing happens.” At a State Department meeting that afternoon, Rusk and McNamara said that “the Generals were either backing off or wallowing.” McNamara thought that they had never even had a plan. That night, Rusk cabled Lodge that prospects for a coup now seemed “very thin” but assured him “that highest levels in Washington are giving this problem almost full-time attention.” At 2:39 A.M. on August 31, the CIA station chief reported that “this particular coup is finished. . . . Generals did not feel ready and did not have sufficient balance of forces.” Lodge followed up with the contemptuous conclusion “that there is neither the will nor the organization among the Generals to accomplish anything.” Kennedy’s advisers saw no choice but to reopen discussions with Diem about how to win the war.
Later that morning, at another State Department meeting, which Lyndon Johnson attended with all the administration’s top national security officials, Paul Kattenburg, an expert on Southeast Asia who had just returned from Vietnam, urged the group to understand that Diem could not win the war, and that if the United States continued on the same track it would be forced to leave the country in six months to a year. “He had known Diem for ten years,” he said, “and did not think that Diem would ever take the steps necessary to correct the situation. . . . He suggested that it would be better for the U.S. to withdraw honorably.” Secretary of State Rusk dismissed Kattenburg’s remarks as “speculative”: A pullout made no sense. Johnson agreed, and in the sort of colorful language that all who knew him well found familiar, declared, “We must . . . stop playing cops and robbers” and talking about a coup. “There were bad situations in South Vietnam. However, there were bad situations in the U.S. It was difficult to live with [Louisiana congressman] Otto Passman, but we couldn’t pull a coup on him.”