NIXON'S CONTRACT FOR PEACE

THE plan yielded little drama and few new answers, but it made nearly all the old questions negotiable. It provided a cautious one-year timetable for ending the Viet Nam war, but assured Americans that no one expected their "unlimited patience" in bringing an end to the longest war in U.S. history. Almost every careful statement became a suit for good faith from two wary audiences: the Communist leadership in Viet Nam and the U.S. public. Between them--and under intense pressure from both--stood Richard Nixon. Last week he addressed those two groups in his first comprehensive statement on the war since taking office. The speech may well prove a turning point in the tortuous quest for a settlement; it showed how far the U.S.--and the Administration--had moved toward a willingness to compromise. In a sense, Johnson's war had now formally become Nixon's war. But if the President's plan ultimately succeeds, the peace will also be Nixon's peace.

Businesslike Candor. Like all opening bidders, the President offered only part of what he may eventually find necessary to put up. Even so, given its conciliatory tone and highly flexible sub stance, the Nixon plan had an almost immediate effect on the Paris peace talks. After formally presenting the message to Communist negotiators at week's end, Henry Cabot Lodge could make the optimistic announcement that, despite initial criticism, the other side gave "every indication" of willingness to bargain on Washington's proposals. In a still more heartening move, North Vietnamese negotiators agreed to meet secretly with the U.S. prior to this week's session. At the very least, when faced off against the Hanoi-National Liberation Front's ten-point plan presented the week before, Nixon's proposals define a workable middle ground and provide both sides with their first solid basis for negotiations.

The effect at home was also encouraging to the Administration. Nixon realized that, sooner or later, the onus of his predecessor's war would have to become his burden. He is determined to avoid the loss of confidence that brought Lyndon Johnson down, and which, if duplicated now, would turn the U.S. bargaining position into dust. His tone of businesslike candor, as well as what he said, bought him at least some time.

Congress, where the quiescent antiwar forces had begun to attack again, was impressed with Nixon's flexibility. Senator Jacob Javits, who the week before had angrily dismissed Nixon's earlier policy as "sterile," called the new statement "a real step on the road to peace." Even Senate Foreign Relations Chairman William Fulbright called it "conciliatory on the whole," though he quickly added that "I would go further." A few unappeasable doves, of course, zeroed in on Nixon's failure to "limit the level of violence" in Viet Nam by unilaterally withdrawing troops. Said Senator George McGovern: "We continue to speak the rhetoric of peace while executing the actions of war."

Propitious Movement. Pressure for some kind of unilateral action will likely surface again, and the President may yet accede to it. The White House already has a secret timetable for a onesided reduction of forces, and Nixon seemed to be heading in that direction when he said: "The time is approaching when South Vietnamese forces will be able to take over some of the fighting fronts now being manned by Americans." The Administration has previously said that three conditions are necessary for a unilateral withdrawal: progress in Paris, a reduced level of fighting, and an improvement in the defensive capabilities of the South Vietnamese. In truth, any one, or even the appearance of any one of these conditions might induce Nixon to take a welcome unilateral step.

The speech was no sudden inspiration.

Nixon had been planning a major pronouncement for nearly two months, and had ordered National Security Adviser Henry Kissinger to begin drafting it a week before the new Communist formulation arrived in Paris. That package, which seemed to contain several points of concession, had little effect on the content of Nixon's presentation, but it decided him on form and timing, "He was going to hold the speech in his pocket for a propitious moment," said one assistant. "When the V.C. came along, that was the propitious moment." Originally contemplating a more casual press conference delivery, Nixon instead arranged for prime TV time. There was a sense of old-time Johnsonian motion as supporting actors winged around the globe: General Creighton Abrams from Saigon to Washington, Secretary of State William Rogers from Washington to confer with South Vietnamese officials in Saigon, Ambassador Lodge from Paris to Washington.

Confrontation's Test. The President penciled changes in the speech almost up to the moment when he walked into the White House theater to deliver it. He prefaced his peace plan with a defense of continued U.S. presence in South Viet Nam and a restatement of the nation's goals there. Referring to his inaugural pledge to move the nation from "an era of confrontation to an era of negotiation," the President maintained that the U.S. must demonstrate, "at the point at which confrontation is being tested," that confrontation itself is profitless. As for what the U.S. seeks in South Viet Nam, Nixon said simply: "The opportunity for the South Vietnamese people to determine their own political future."

New Ground. Though not enumerated in the speech, the proposals divided neatly into eight steps, and White House advisers immediately began billing them as an eight-point plan, thus entering Nixon in the Great Peace-Point Derby.-In the heart of his speech, the President used almost contractual prose that Lawyer Nixon knows well. As a first step, he proposed agreement on mutual U.S., allied and North Vietnamese troop withdrawals. This would be followed, gradually and each time under new agreement, by creation of an "international supervisory body" that would verify troop pullbacks, arrange a final cease-fire and oversee national elections. Many of Nixon's items had been offered earlier at the negotiating table, or hinted at privately, even during the Johnson Administration. But never before had they been put together so clearly or publicly. So far as official U.S. policy is concerned, it broke ground in three important places: the proposals for mutual troop withdrawals, the willingness to bargain on both political and military questions, and the idea of an international supervisory body.

Nowhere was Nixon more candid than in fixing responsibility. "In my campaign for the presidency, I pledged to end this war in a way that would increase our chances to win a true and lasting peace in Viet Nam, in the Pacific and in the world," he said. "I am determined to keep that pledge. If I fail to do so, I expect the American people to hold me accountable for that failure."

Official Anathema. One of the most reassuring things about the speech was the fact that South Viet Nam's leadership, which has balked before at certain U.S. conciliation moves, approved of every major point. President Thieu, in fact, read a final draft of the speech and objected to nothing--including the possibility of holding elections before the constitutionally scheduled date, and U.S. willingness to allow the neutralization of South Viet Nam. Neutralization, which many Saigon politicians fear will lead to takeover by the North, remains officially anathema in South Viet Nam; at least one politician is still in jail for having advocated it as a solution of the war. However, Thieu evidently felt that Nixon's proviso--"if that is what the South Vietnamese people freely choose"--was both fair and safe. At week's end, while receiving Rogers, he requested a meeting with Nixon, perhaps to ask for further assurances. Mostly, however, Nixon's boast that he had ended the crisis of confidence between Saigon and Washington seemed justified.

Despite the hopeful signs, the thought of a permanent settlement seemed like wishful thinking in Saigon last week. North Vietnamese and Viet Cong forces unleashed their most widespread attack on the South--but not the heaviest--since the infamous Tet offensive of 1968. From U.S. military bases to provincial cities to the psychological payoff target of Saigon, rocket shells and terrorist bombs exploded with deadly frequency. They were followed, especially at U.S. outposts and forward bases, by ground assaults that forced many units into close combat. As a result, the American death toll for each of the past two weeks rose above 300 for the first time in nearly two months --which is precisely where headline-conscious Communist strategists would like to keep it.

Birthday Windup. Just what the intense countrywide attacks meant remained unclear. But the depressing sameness of the fighting does not necessarily negate the changed mood in Paris. Both sides, having buttressed their own claims of good faith with fresh proposals, are now engaged in a cautious perusal of the other's new statements. Those readings will probably result in a delay before any progress can be made in Paris, because it normally takes the Communists weeks or even longer to formulate official reaction. After that, unless the Communists take the unlikely step of rejecting Nixon's entire plan out of hand, the Paris negotiations could finally begin a steady acceleration.

-Besides the N.L.F.'s ten-point plan, the Paris talks have on the table a six-point proposal from Saigon and a four-point plan from Hanoi.

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