A Return to Confrontation

WHEN President Nixon announced two weeks ago that he was sending U.S. combat troops into Cambodia, he hoped to achieve two major goals. One was to force Hanoi into meaningful negotiations. The other was to reassure America's allies that in a crisis the U.S. would not "be found wanting." On both counts, he not only failed but failed disastrously.

The North Vietnamese postponed last week's scheduled session of the Paris peace talks (it has been rescheduled for next week) and once again rejected a new Geneva Conference or any other broad meeting to settle the war. Washington's allies were dismayed by what they regarded as an expression not of firmness but of sheer recklessness. Rock-throwing, flag-burning demonstrations against the U.S. erupted in scores of foreign cities. Perhaps worst of all, the move threatened to cast a shadow over two critical negotiations with the Communist giants--the Strategic Arms Limitation Talks (SALT) with the Soviets in Vienna and the exploratory discussions with the Chinese in Warsaw. The President, who invoked an "era of negotiation" in his Inaugural, had now provoked a period of confrontation.

Question of Veracity. In Moscow, Soviet Defense Minister Andrei Grechko warned that the time had passed when "encroachments on the independence and freedom of peoples can go un punished." Perhaps more significant, Premier Aleksei Kosygin called the first press conference held by a Kremlin leader in Moscow since Nikita Khrushchev's famous U-2 spy-plane disclosure in 1960. Though he made no suggestion of direct Soviet involvement in Indochina, Kosygin harshly upbraided the U.S. and launched the sharpest personal attack on Nixon to date by a Russian leader. The Soviet Premier, whose appearance was carried live on Russian television, charged that the widening of the war raised serious questions. "What is the value of international agreements, which the United States is or intends to be a party to," Kosygin asked, "if it so unceremoniously violates its obligations?" Kosygin was plainly referring to SALT, and though the sixth session of the talks went ahead as scheduled, Soviet delegates reportedly did cite Cambodia as an issue that undermined trust in the U.S.

Some Western diplomats were concerned that the Cambodian venture might even give the feuding Soviets and Chinese an area in which they could cooperate--for the first time in a decade. According to reports from Moscow, Soviet Deputy Foreign Minister Vasily Kuznetsov, who last week returned to Peking, carried instructions to seek a joint Sino-Soviet approach on Indochina. Furthermore, when North Viet Nam's Party Leader Le Duan left Moscow for Peking after last month's Lenin centennial, he reportedly carried a Soviet suggestion to Chairman Mao that the two countries should get together, at least over Southeast Asia.

Washington's European allies were miffed because they were neither consulted nor advised in advance about the Cambodian move. Britain's Prime Minister Harold Wilson, who had proudly pointed out his "hot line" to Washington during a television interview only a few days before, was acutely embarrassed. So was France's President Georges Pompidou, who had told intimates after he returned from his U.S. visit last February: "There will be no issues that surprise us." So, too, was West Germany's Chancellor Willy Brandt, who has been criticized by the U.S. for not consulting Washington about his Ostpolitik initiatives.

Bonn Dissent. The deeper reaction was one of alarmed concern that the U.S. may be on the brink of a dangerous internal upheaval that could drastically reduce its role as Europe's friend and protector. For the first time in its 21-year history, West Germany not only openly refused to give its approval to a major U.S. initiative, but actually issued a strong statement of regret about the action. Italy's Foreign Minister Aldo Moro spoke of his government's "deep concern" that Cambodia would make "the search for negotiated solutions in every part of the world more difficult." In Britain, 61 Labor members of Parliament voted to condemn the U.S. action and at least ten more refused to support Wilson's neutral stance. It was the biggest breach in party discipline in Wilson's six years in power. Among NATO nations, unreserved support came only from Greece, itself an outcast in Europe. Seeking to capitalize on the concern of Western Europeans, Pravda advised them to quit NATO and support the Soviet proposal for a European Security Conference that would do away with the need for military blocs.

House of the Dead. Though a number of conservative newspapers around the world expressed understanding of Nixon's move, most of the press reacted angrily. Perhaps the most caustic commentary was a cartoon in Britain's Guardian snowing Nixon wagging a finger at four white crosses in a cemetery and saying: ". . . And I trust you bums have learned a lesson from all this."

Demonstrations and protest marches broke out everywhere. In Hamburg, one group occupied the Amerika-Haus and renamed it "The House of the Four Dead from Kent." In Britain, protesters smeared animal blood, scrawled swastikas and dumped pigs' heads in buildings occupied by American firms. There were demonstrations in Canada and Latin America. The Israelis feared that Southeast Asia was distracting American attention from their area. Japan's Premier Eisaku Sato seemed embarrassed by the U.S. action. Pakistan and India were strongly critical.

Aside from South Viet Nam, only four Asian and Pacific countries openly backed Nixon's decision. In three of them--South Korea, Taiwan and Thailand--military-backed regimes kept a firm lid on any outbursts of local public displeasure. In Australia, however, no sooner had Prime Minister John Gorton announced his government's support of Nixon's action than demonstrators took to the streets in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane, just as they did in much of the rest of the world.

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