HOW GOES THIEU'S GOVERNMENT?

SPOKEN or unspoken, the assumption is often made that any agreement reached in Paris to end the Viet Nam war must also bring an end to the present government of South Viet Nam. Either it must be sacrificed to a larger coalition government as part of the price of an accord with Hanoi, so the reasoning goes, or it is certain to collapse from its own infirmities once the prop of U.S. support and the urgency of waging a war is removed. That may or may not prove true. Meanwhile, President Nguyen Van Thieu's elected government continues to go about the necessary business of trying to govern while the Communists threaten a new wave of attacks on cities, aimed at toppling Thieu.

So complex and overwhelming are the problems confronting South Viet Nam that the nation's progress must be judged in terms of effort rather than achievement. By that arbitrary measure, Thieu's government has performed with markedly more distinction than its predecessors. Admittedly it has not achieved dramatic results in the dual task of fighting a war and building a nation. But, as its first year in office draws to a close, the government deserves some good marks for trying.

Taking Trips. When Thieu emerged from last September's elections, he shared presidential powers with his volatile running mate, Vice President Nguyen Cao Ky. The result for a time was an intrigue-laden, awkward dualism that South Viet Nam's new constitution had not anticipated. The Communists' Tet offensive, Washington's decision to back Thieu and an accident that killed a host of Ky supporters finally pushed the Vice President into the background (TIME, June 21), and the President has quickly consolidated his position by a succession of shrewd maneuvers that have removed remaining Ky backers from influential posts. These days Thieu is working hard to broaden the base of support for the presidency. He takes trips into the countryside, where he is virtually unknown. He consults more often with political leaders and the National Assembly. He prods the military and civilian establishments to prepare for the day when the South Vietnamese will have to take on a greater share of waging the war or policing the peace by themselves.

Buoyed by President Johnson's assurances last month in Honolulu of continued U.S. support, Thieu has been preaching a hard line on the war and against negotiations with the Communists that lends a considerable air of unreality to some of his pronouncements. He has left much of the country's day-to-day administration to Premier Tran Van Huong, 64, a onetime schoolteacher widely respected for his political acumen and his honesty. Huong moved into the Prime Minister's office at No. 7 Thong Nhut (Unity Street) eleven weeks ago, with the warning that corruption, a problem frequently discussed but little acted on in the past, would be a major target of his administration. "What I want to do is eradicate the big fish," he says.

Buying Out. Yet he lacks the power to bring about sweeping reforms. Province chiefs, who hold important positions in the patronage system, are appointed by the President. Thieu has sacked 16 of them, but Huong would clearly like to see more relieved. So, too, would Thieu, but competent replacements are hard to find. Old avenues of corruption persist as well. Draft exemptions can still be bought: it costs only $425 to become a secret-police agent or $250 to join the Regional Forces and thus escape regular army service. And big names still enjoy protection. Not long ago, an ARVN colonel was charged with corruption but was not tried because he had too much influence.

Political squabbles, economic pressures and social problems add to the government's burden. The Assembly, a hawkish group of men mostly from a middle class that stands to lose more from peace than the war-weary peasantry, distrusts Huong. Assembly members consider him soft on the issue of negotiations with the Communists. A Lower House deputy, Tran Quy Phong, recently threatened that "if Huong's government seeks a compromise with the Communists, it will be overthrown by the people." Inflationary pressure has mounted. Since Tet, the government has issued a billion piasters ($8,500,000) in new currency each week. Foodstuffs and consumer goods are not so readily available as they should be: holding back of rice stocks by unscrupulous middlemen has pushed Saigon prices to six times the price charged in the Delta. As things stand, the government may be forced to devalue the piaster and begin food rationing.

Closing Down. In the cities, law and order has broken down to a large degree, even for South Viet Nam; since Tet, the police have been deployed on paramilitary duty, guarding against Communist troop infiltration. As a result, vandalism and robbery have become so commonplace that many doctors, lawyers and dentists in Saigon had to close their downtown offices.

Despite all the problems, or perhaps because of them, Thieu and Huong seem to be working reasonably well together. The Premier holds far more leverage than Nguyen Van Loc, his predecessor whom Thieu fired, mainly because Thieu cannot afford another Cabinet change at this time. The President listens to Huong's suggestions although he does not always act on them, particularly when they involve corruption among the military or the subject of peace talks. Huong was upset when Peace Candidate Dzu was sentenced last month to five years at hard labor for advocating talks with the National Liberation Front. The Premier tried to change Thieu's mind, but he failed. Yet in less than three months in office, Huong has given the premiership--and with it, by extension, civilian government in South Viet Nam--an aura of respectability it had never attained under others. Huong's hope is that the aura will grow. As one of the Premier's associates put it last week: "We do not expect to last for a long time. But many of the things we have accomplished will not be easily undone."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.