In 1994, Henry Kissinger published the book Diplomacy. He was a renowned scholar and diplomat who served as the United States National Security Advisor and Secretary of State. His book provides an extensive sweep of the history of foreign affairs and the art of diplomacy, with a particular focus on the 20th century and the Western World. Kissinger, known for his alignment with the realist school of international relations, inquires into the concepts of the balance of power, raison d’État, and Realpolitik across different eras.
His work has been widely praised for its scope and intricate detail. Yet, it has also faced criticism for its focus on individuals over structural forces, and for presenting a reductive view of history. Also, critics have also pointed out that the book focuses excessively on Kissinger’s individual role in events, potentially overstating his impact. In any case, his ideas are worthy of consideration.
This article presents a summary of Kissinger’s ideas in the twenty-fifth chapter of his book, called “Vietnam: Entry into the Morass; Truman and Eisenhower”.
You can find all available summaries of this book, or you can read the summary from the previous chapter of the book, by clicking these links.
America embarked on a mission to reshape the world after World War II, seeking to create a new international order. It played a pivotal role in rehabilitating Europe and Japan, resisting communist expansion in various regions, and initiating technical assistance programs for developing countries. Under the American influence, the nations involved experienced peace, prosperity, and stability.
However, America’s involvement in Indochina, particularly Vietnam, disrupted the established patterns of its international engagements. For the first time, the direct relationship between American values and achievements began to unravel. This universal application of American values led to a questioning of those very values and the reasons for bringing them into Vietnam. A gap emerged between America’s belief in its exceptional national experience and the geopolitical realities of containing communism. This internal conflict over American exceptionalism and the subsequent questioning of its international role inflicted deep wounds on American society.
The consequences of America’s actions in Vietnam deviated significantly from its original intentions. The nation lost sight of a fundamental principle of foreign policy articulated by Richelieu: the support for an objective should be proportional to the force applied. A strategic geopolitical approach would have differentiated between significant and peripheral issues, questioning why America considered it safe to stand by during China’s communist takeover in 1948 but identified its national security with a smaller, historically non-independent country like Vietnam.
In the 19th century, Bismarck, a master of Realpolitik, refused to involve Germany in Balkan conflicts, deeming them not worth the sacrifice. Similarly, John Quincy Adams warned against pursuing distant conflicts. However, the Wilsonian approach to foreign policy disregarded such distinctions, compelling America to fight for what was right, regardless of local circumstances and geopolitical considerations.
Throughout the 20th century, American presidents declared that the nation had no selfish interests, aiming solely for universal peace and progress. Truman’s 1949 inaugural address committed the country to global freedom, providing military support to nations willing to cooperate for peace and security. This altruistic foreign policy, extended by Eisenhower and Kennedy, emphasized America’s moral responsibilities over practical geopolitical calculations.
Eisenhower’s speeches highlighted America’s unique role in defending freedom without geographic or national interest constraints, treating all nations and peoples equally. Kennedy further amplified this theme, pledging to oppose any threat to liberty, regardless of specific national security interests. By Johnson’s presidency, America’s foreign commitments were seen as integral to its democratic values, erasing the distinction between domestic and international responsibilities.
Critics later viewed these statements as examples of American arrogance or pretexts for domination. However, this perspective misunderstood America’s political faith, driven by a naïve yet powerful commitment to resist aggression and injustice. Unlike other nations that fought for concrete security threats, America engaged in wars for moral obligations, from World War I to the Persian Gulf War of 1991.
This commitment was particularly strong among American leaders who had witnessed the Munich Agreement’s failure. They believed that failing to resist aggression early would lead to greater conflicts later. This belief united American policymakers, who saw resisting communism as essential to global security. Policy documents and official statements of the time reflect this conviction, with the Domino Theory predicting that the fall of Indochina would endanger all of Southeast Asia.
By 1950, the National Security Council identified Indochina as crucial to Southeast Asia’s stability, introducing the Domino Theory. Dean Rusk and other officials echoed this sentiment, believing that neglecting Indochina would jeopardize American interests in the region. This view was reinforced by the broader geopolitical struggle against the Soviet Union.
However, the American perception of the global threat was overly simplistic. The geopolitical realities differed significantly between Europe and Asia. In Europe, the primary threat came from the Soviet superpower, while in Asia, secondary powers with questionable Soviet control posed the main threats. The Vietnam War saw America fighting a proxy of a proxy, complicating its strategic calculations.
The differences between European and Asian geopolitics, along with America’s interests in each, were overlooked in America’s universalist foreign policy approach. Events like the Czech coup, the Berlin blockade, and the communist victories in China and Korea were seen as part of a single global conspiracy. This Manichean view led America to expand its military engagements, supporting France in Indochina and protecting Taiwan.
American policymakers analogized the global situation to World War II, viewing Soviet and Chinese actions as parallel to German and Japanese aggression. By 1952, the United States was heavily subsidizing French efforts in Indochina, highlighting its deep commitment to countering communism globally.
America’s involvement in Indochina introduced a new moral dilemma. NATO defended democracies, the American occupation of Japan brought democratic institutions, and the Korean War aimed to protect small nations’ independence. However, the defense of Indochina was framed in geopolitical terms, clashing with America’s anticolonial tradition. Indochina, still French colonies, were neither democracies nor independent. In 1950, France rebranded its colonies as the “Associated States of the French Union,” stopping short of full independence due to fears of setting a precedent for its North African colonies.
During World War II, American anticolonial sentiment was particularly strong regarding Indochina. Roosevelt, who disliked de Gaulle and wasn’t fond of France after its 1940 collapse, considered making Indochina a United Nations trusteeship but dropped this idea by Yalta. The Truman Administration abandoned it altogether, seeking French support for the Atlantic Alliance. By 1950, Truman’s administration decided that keeping Indochina out of communist hands was essential for the free world’s security, even if it meant supporting the French colonial effort against American anticolonial principles. The Joint Chiefs of Staff concluded that American forces, stretched thin by NATO and Korea commitments, couldn’t defend Indochina alone, relying on French resistance supported by American aid.
America’s initial commitment to Indochina in 1950 set a pattern: involvement significant enough to entangle the U.S. but insufficient to be decisive. This was partly due to ignorance of local conditions and the difficulties of operating through French colonial and local authorities. To avoid being seen as colonialist, the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the State Department pressed France for independence pledges, balancing strategic and moral considerations. This balancing act, named “Operation Eggshell,” aimed to nudge France toward granting independence while continuing the anticommunist war, although no one explained why France should fight a war that would end its regional presence.
Dean Acheson encapsulated the dilemma: the U.S. might lose if it supported France’s colonial attitudes but risked France abandoning the effort if pushed too hard. His solution was to increase American aid while urging France and its local ruler, Bao Dai, to gain nationalist support, without resolving the fundamental contradiction. By the end of the Truman Administration, evasion had become official policy. A 1952 National Security Council (NSC) document formalized the Domino Theory, suggesting that losing Indochina would trigger a chain reaction leading to Southeast Asia’s submission to communism and potentially destabilizing Europe and Japan.
The NSC document didn’t analyze why this collapse had to be automatic or explore alternatives like establishing stronger defensive lines around more stable countries such as Malaya and Thailand, as favored by British leaders. The European allies consistently refused to defend Indochina, and the idea of another land war in Asia was unpalatable to America after Korea. Acheson argued against defending Indochina on the ground, implying that attacking China itself might be necessary—a stance he had resisted regarding Korea.
America’s analysis failed to account for internal rivalries within the communist bloc. After winning its civil war, Communist China viewed the Soviet Union as its main threat, and Vietnam historically feared China. A communist victory in Indochina might have accelerated these rivalries, posing a different challenge than a centrally managed conspiracy. Nonetheless, the Domino Theory seemed valid at the time. Communism appeared ideologically dynamic, with many newly independent countries seeing the communist world as poised to surpass capitalism. Washington policymakers, witnessing a communist guerrilla war in Malaya, had reason to fear Indochina’s conquest.
The question wasn’t if some Southeast Asian dominoes might fall but whether better places existed to draw defensive lines. Countries like Malaya and Thailand, with more stable political and security environments, might have been more defensible. The NSC’s conclusion—that losing Indochina could lead Europe and Japan to accommodate communism—overreached.
Truman’s legacy to Eisenhower included a significant military-assistance program to Indochina and a strategic theory lacking a clear policy. Eisenhower inherited the commitment without facing the gap between strategic doctrine and moral convictions, leaving Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon to address these challenges.
Eisenhower’s administration accepted America’s commitment to Indochina’s security, pressing for reform while increasing support. In May 1953, Eisenhower urged the French to appoint new leaders with the authority to win the war and make clear commitments to granting independence post-victory. France, however, was embroiled in a frustrating guerrilla war. Unlike conventional wars where superior firepower often prevails, guerrilla warfare involves fighting among the population, with guerrillas choosing the battlefield and controlling casualties.
France’s lack of experience in guerrilla warfare and its entrenched colonial interests made the situation in Indochina complex. America’s approach, influenced by anticolonial sentiment and strategic concerns, struggled to reconcile supporting France’s war effort while advocating for eventual independence. This contradictory stance highlighted the broader challenges in America’s Cold War foreign policy, balancing ideological commitments with geopolitical realities.
In conventional warfare, a 75 percent success rate typically guarantees victory. However, in guerrilla warfare, only achieving 75 percent security for the population results in defeat. Ensuring complete security in a smaller area is more effective than partial security across a larger one. Guerrilla warfare’s basic principle is straightforward but challenging to implement: the guerrilla army wins by merely avoiding defeat, while the conventional army must win decisively to avoid losing. Guerrilla wars rarely result in stalemate and require a long-term commitment from the defending forces. The guerrilla army can persist with hit-and-run tactics despite reduced numbers, and clear-cut victories are rare. Successful cases, such as in Malaya and Greece, involved cutting off the guerrillas’ external supply sources.
The French and later the American armies, fighting in Vietnam, struggled with guerrilla warfare. Both were trained and equipped for conventional warfare, relying on superior firepower and a war of attrition. This approach failed against an enemy who, familiar with their own terrain, could outlast them and create domestic pressure to end the conflict. Casualties increased, and defining progress was elusive. France, stretched thin across Vietnam with fewer forces than America would later commit to defending half the country, conceded defeat faster. Concentrating forces in towns left the countryside vulnerable to communist control, and spreading out to protect rural areas exposed urban centers to attacks.
Vietnam consistently confounded foreign powers’ reasoning. The French conflict climaxed at Dien Bien Phu, a remote area near the Laotian border. France placed elite forces there, hoping for a decisive battle but ended up in a no-win situation. If the communists ignored the deployment, the French position was strategically irrelevant. If the communists attacked, it indicated their belief in imminent victory. The French underestimated their opponents’ resilience and ingenuity, as the Americans would later do. In March 1954, North Vietnamese forces launched a successful attack on Dien Bien Phu using artillery supplied by China, overrunning French outposts. Exhausted and pressured by the looming Geneva conference, France sought a political solution.
The Geneva conference’s approach pressured the Eisenhower Administration to align its theoretical commitments with practical possibilities. The fall of Dien Bien Phu would lead to significant communist control over Vietnam, necessitating U.S. military escalation, which France lacked the resources and will for. In March 1954, U.S. officials, including Admiral Radford, suggested a massive airstrike to support French positions. However, Dulles, committed to collective security, sought diplomatic groundwork for such actions. In a major speech, he called for united action against communist expansion in Southeast Asia, highlighting the risks of inaction.
Under the “United Action” banner, Dulles proposed a coalition including the U.S., Britain, France, New Zealand, Australia, and the Associated States of Indochina. Eisenhower joined in advocating collective action, likely to prevent intervention rather than promote it. Eisenhower, experienced in military affairs and wary of prolonged conflict, doubted a single airstrike’s effectiveness and was reluctant to engage in another land war in Asia. He also knew coalition diplomacy’s complexities, recognizing that timely united action was unlikely. Eisenhower preferred losing Indochina over damaging America’s anticolonial image, valuing the moral stance of the U.S. over territorial concerns.
Despite private reservations, Dulles and Eisenhower actively pursued united action. In April 1954, Eisenhower appealed to Churchill, emphasizing the strategic importance of Indochina. He warned that communist control would have disastrous global implications, threatening neighboring countries and disrupting the balance in Asia and the Pacific. Eisenhower stressed that losing Indochina could lead to a domino effect, jeopardizing Thailand, Burma, Indonesia, Malaya, Australia, New Zealand, and even influencing Japan to align with the communist world.
Churchill was not convinced by Eisenhower’s argument, and Eisenhower did not push further to persuade him. Although Churchill valued the special relationship with America, he prioritized British interests and saw more risks than benefits in Indochina. He did not believe that a single colonial setback would trigger a global catastrophe or a domino effect.
Churchill and Anthony Eden preferred defending Southeast Asia at Malaya’s borders. Churchill’s noncommittal response, relayed by Eden, indicated Britain’s reluctance to join United Action. Eden disliked Dulles and thought it unrealistic to impose victory terms on an undefeated enemy. On April 26, Churchill expressed to Admiral Radford that Britain should avoid wars in areas where the Soviet Union could mobilize nationalist and oppressed peoples’ enthusiasm. He emphasized the risks of a hydrogen bomb assault on Britain if war with China, invoking the Sino-Russian pact, were to occur.
Churchill’s primary goal in his final year was to arrange a summit with post-Stalin Russian leaders to highlight Western strength and discourage war. By the time the Geneva Conference started on April 26, United Action was no longer feasible, and Dien Bien Phu fell on May 7, underscoring the ineffectiveness of collective security.
The debate over Dien Bien Phu revealed the confusion in Vietnam policy and the difficulty in reconciling geopolitical analysis, strategic doctrine, and moral conviction. Eisenhower argued that a communist victory in Indochina could trigger a domino effect, necessitating American intervention regardless of other countries’ reactions. However, the administration’s shift to a doctrine of massive retaliation implied that a war over Indochina would target China, which was politically and morally unjustifiable.
Despite the reluctance for direct intervention, Eisenhower and Dulles made implicit threats that influenced the Geneva Conference outcome, resulting in a partition of Vietnam along the 17th Parallel. This partition was a temporary administrative arrangement before internationally supervised elections. Although the Geneva Accords outlined the withdrawal of foreign forces and proscribed foreign bases and alliances, they were ambiguous and lacked collective obligations, reflecting the reality of what could be settled.
An uneasy stalemate followed the Geneva Conference. The Soviet Union and China were not prepared for confrontation, France was withdrawing, the U.S. lacked public support for intervention, and the Vietnamese communists were not strong enough to continue the war without external supplies. Despite these conditions, the core objectives of the parties remained unchanged. The Eisenhower Administration still viewed Indochina as crucial to the global balance of power, while North Vietnam aimed to unify Indochina under communism.
Dulles navigated this complex situation skillfully. Although he preferred military intervention and the removal of communism, he faced a conference outcome legitimizing communist rule in North Vietnam. Dulles aimed to construct a settlement that aligned strategic analysis with moral conviction, promoting territorial integrity and political independence under stable and free governments.
The U.S. adopted an ambiguous stance at the Geneva Conference, refusing to participate officially but upholding its principles. America’s concluding statement noted the final declarations and committed to refrain from force while warning against renewed aggression. This unique approach demonstrated America’s complex position, supporting a settlement it had reservations about and refused to sign.
Dulles did not prevent the communist consolidation of North Vietnam but aimed to prevent further communist expansion in Indochina. He discarded French colonialism, focusing on containing communism. The Geneva Accords provided a political framework aligning America’s political and military objectives, offering a legal basis to resist further communist advances.
The communists focused on establishing their government in North Vietnam, marked by brutal tactics that included killing at least 50,000 people and imprisoning another 100,000 in concentration camps. Around 80,000 to 100,000 communist guerrillas moved north, while about a million North Vietnamese fled to the South. The U.S. found a potential ally in Ngo Dinh Diem, a nationalist leader, although his commitment to democracy was questionable.
Eisenhower’s decision to avoid involvement in Vietnam in 1954 was tactical rather than strategic. He and Dulles still believed in Indochina’s strategic importance. While the region stabilized, Dulles completed the formation of the Southeast Asian Treaty Organization (SEATO) in September 1954, including the U.S., Pakistan, the Philippines, Thailand, Australia, New Zealand, the UK, and France. However, SEATO lacked a clear political objective or mutual support mechanism, and key regional players like India, Indonesia, Malaya, and Burma opted for neutrality. The Geneva Accords also barred the three Indochinese states from joining SEATO.
SEATO’s obligations were vague, requiring signatories to meet common dangers through their constitutional processes without defining these dangers or establishing action mechanisms. Nevertheless, SEATO provided a legal framework for Indochina’s defense, particularly focusing on communist threats to Laos, Cambodia, and South Vietnam, despite these countries being barred from membership.
The future of Indochina, especially South Vietnam, depended on their ability to become functioning nations. These states had never been governed as political entities within their current borders. Vietnam was historically divided into Tonkin, Annam, and Cochinchina, governed separately. The Mekong Delta, colonized by the Vietnamese in the 19th century, was recently settled. Existing authorities included French-trained civil servants and secret societies, which operated autonomously by exploiting the population.
Diem, the new leader, came from a traditional Confucian background. He had served in the colonial administration but resigned due to unimplemented reforms. He spent years as a scholar and in exile, refusing to join various governments, including offers from the Japanese, communists, and French-supported Vietnamese leaders.
Leaders of freedom movements often do not embody democratic principles, sustaining themselves with visions of transformation. They rarely view establishing a government that makes them dispensable as consistent with their revolutionary ideals. Diem’s leadership style, influenced by Confucianism, prioritized loyalty and hierarchy over democratic debate.
In 1954, South Vietnam lacked the foundations for nationhood and democracy. Yet, the Eisenhower Administration was committed to defending South Vietnam and promoting nation-building, despite cultural differences. Dulles supported Diem as the only viable leader, and Eisenhower promised aid contingent on reforms to create a strong, responsive government.
Initially, this approach seemed successful. By the end of Eisenhower’s term, the U.S. had provided over $1 billion in aid, and American personnel in South Vietnam numbered 1,500. Diem achieved significant progress, stabilizing the economy, suppressing secret societies, and establishing central control, earning praise from U.S. officials. However, the assumption that American-style democracy was exportable proved flawed as communist pressure resumed.
In 1959, guerrilla activity in South Vietnam intensified, undermining the government’s efforts to consolidate stable institutions. Guerrillas targeted both corrupt officials to gain popular support and effective officials to disrupt governance. By 1960, around 2,500 South Vietnamese officials were being assassinated annually, deterring motivated officials and leaving room for corrupt ones.
The struggle between nation-building and chaos, democracy and repression, favored the guerrillas. Diem’s Confucian leadership model, emphasizing virtue over consensus, was not conducive to democratic reform. His success in nation-building initially masked the lack of democratic progress, but as security worsened, conflicts between American values and South Vietnamese traditions deepened.
Despite efforts to build the South Vietnamese army, the security situation continued to deteriorate. The American military, confident in their methods, tried to create a Vietnamese army modeled after their own, suited for conventional warfare rather than the guerrilla tactics prevalent in Vietnam. The American experience in Korea did not prepare them for the challenges in Vietnam, where the enemy operated without well-defined front lines and conducted indiscriminate attacks, complicating the defense efforts.
When the American military arrived in Vietnam, it applied familiar tactics: attrition through firepower, mechanization, and mobility. However, these methods were ill-suited for Vietnam. The South Vietnamese army, trained by the Americans, soon faced the same challenges as the French forces a decade earlier. Attrition requires the enemy to defend vital positions, but guerrillas rarely have such positions, making mechanized, division-based armies nearly irrelevant.
In the early stages of American involvement, the guerrilla war was still developing, and military issues were not yet dominant. Progress seemed possible until the end of the Eisenhower Administration, when Hanoi escalated the guerrilla war and began establishing a logistics system through Laos, creating the Ho Chi Minh Trail.
As Eisenhower left office, his primary concern was Laos, which he saw as crucial to the “Domino Theory”. He believed that if Laos fell to communism, neighboring countries like Cambodia, South Vietnam, Thailand, and Burma could also fall, potentially leading to communist control of Southeast Asia. He recommended to President-elect Kennedy that defending Laos was essential, even if it meant acting without allies.
At this point, America’s involvement in Indochina had not yet reached a scale that irreparably affected its global credibility. The effort still aligned with regional security objectives and was not yet so extensive that it required justification through vindication.
The Domino Theory had become widely accepted, but it lacked nuance. The key issues were not whether communism should be resisted in Asia, but whether Vietnam’s 17th Parallel was the right line to defend, and whether another defensive line, such as at Malaya’s borders, might be more appropriate. Geopolitical considerations were overshadowed by the moral lessons of Munich, where retreat was seen as compounding difficulties and morally wrong. Eisenhower defended American involvement by emphasizing the need to sustain morale, economic progress, and military strength in Vietnam to ensure its freedom.
America’s commitment to universalist ideals meant it could not prioritize strategic expediency over principle. American leaders genuinely believed in defending countries based on principle rather than national interest.
Choosing Vietnam as the line against communist expansion guaranteed future dilemmas. If political reform was essential to defeat the guerrillas, their growing strength raised questions about the relevance or application of American recommendations. If Vietnam was crucial to global balance, geopolitical needs might ultimately force America to fully commit to a distant war. These unresolved questions were left to Kennedy and Johnson to address.
You can read the summary of the next chapter of the book by clicking this link.
Leave a Reply