The Decay

 CHAPTER 16 

The Decay

As the bombing transformed the countryside, American aid transformed the cities. It was clear, from 1970 on, that Lon Nol needed economic support to continue the war and that his political stability had to be subsidized. The aid program was applied more broadly than military assistance; its failure demonstrates the contradictions of the Nixon Doctrine more starkly.

From the beginning of 1971 until April 1975 (and in some ways, beyond), United States aid was the dominant factor in almost every aspect of political, economic and military affairs in Cambodia. Since the Doctrine demanded a pretense that the United States was not involving itself in the affairs of this small country, economic aid, like military, was handed over with few strings attached. Embassy officials with “low profiles” watched as the money they provided destroyed the will of the recipients.

The initial grants were to help Cambodia import commodities that had previously been financed by its exports. Despite the stagnation of the economy under Sihanouk, in 1969 exports of rice, rubber and corn had brought in $90 million; a sizable portion of the Gross National Product of $450 million. By the end of 1970, the government was spending five times its revenue and earning nothing abroad. The rubber plantations in the east of the country were burned down, bombed or occupied by the Communists; thousands of hectares of paddy field had been abandoned, and those still being harvested, around the city of Battambang, were required for domestic consumption. Within a few months the country's economic independence was destroyed.

As well as financing a Commodity Import Program, the United States began to sell the Cambodians surplus American agricultural products— wheat, flour, vegetable oil, tobacco, cotton fiber and cotton yarn under the "Food for Peace" program, the standard vehicle for distribution of food to the Third World. The agricultural goods (like other commodities imported) were purchased with Cambodian riels, which—until the U.S. Congress legislated against such practices—were placed in a blocked account in Phnom Penh and used to pay the salaries of the expanding army. The "sales" of American agricultural produce financed a new military machine.

As more economic aid was invested in Cambodia every year, the economy deteriorated. One can glance at the consumer price index for food; the figures are the government's and are perhaps slightly exaggerated, but not greatly. From the base of 100 representing 1949 prices, the index had risen to 348 in March 1970, the last month of Sihanouk's rule. By the end of 1970 the index was 523; by the end of 1971, 828; by the end of 1972, 1,095; by the end of 1973, 3,907; and by the end of 1974, 11,052.

By mid-1971, it was clear that economic management required more refined tools. The United States encouraged the International Monetary Fund to set up an Exchange Support Fund that could create a flexible exchange rate. (It was the American experience from Vietnam that a fixed exchange rate was unrealistic in time of war and inflation, distorted economic performance and encouraged corruption.) The Fund was supposed to sell foreign exchange to commercial importers twice a week on a modified auction basis. These auctions would determine the rate of the riel. The United States pledged a 50 percent share of the Fund, and after Washington applied varying amounts of pressure the rest was provided by the governments of Japan, Britain, Australia, Thailand, New Zealand and Malaysia.

The Fund proved useful for generals and merchants to continue importing luxury goods that were not eligible under the Commodity Import Program. In the early years of the war new Mercedes, Peugeots, Audis blocked the streets; and throughout, Courvoisier and Dom Perignon

. Subsequently officials in Phnom Penh devised methods of buying Communist-produced rubber to sell abroad for hard currency.

flowed into the country. By itself, however, the Fund was not as financially influential as AID officials had hoped. Cambodian government bankers tended to be conservative in monetary policies and, influenced by powerful private importers, often resisted American advice to devalue the riel. Embassy officials found they had to threaten to withhold or cut the Commodity Import Program in order to secure reforms they thought desirable. Only then would the haggling reach a compromise barely acceptable to both sides.

Almost every month of the war the government’s enclaves shrank, the numbers of refugees in them grew, and the country’s per capita agricultural and industrial production declined, even with AID-financed imports taken into account. The Commodity Import Program changed constantly, and less-essential goods were dropped in favor of rice, petroleum and medicines. From mid-1972 onward, there was rarely enough food in Phnom Penh and from 1973 until the end of the war, AID officials raced from one rice crisis to another. But official reports show that Washington kept the imports of rice as low as was consistent with avoiding food riots. This was ostensibly to encourage greater domestic rice production on the declining areas of paddy left to the government. But it was also to disguise the serious nature of the problem.

The U.S. AID mission’s draft termination report notes, “The record shows that mission requests from 1973 forward stayed on the low side of requirements and that PL 480 rice requested was never more than the basic amount needed to avert serious food-supply shortages among the deficit population.” The amount of rice available per head fell annually, and gradually malnutrition increased, particularly among refugees.

Like many Cambodian statistics, the number of refugees who fled their homes during the war is still disputed. Several hundred thousand were uprooted by the end of 1970; the CIA reported that Phnom Penh's population doubled to 1,200,000 within the first months of the war. By the end of 1971, the Cambodian Ministry of Health estimated that more than two million of Cambodia's seven million people had been displaced, and the government reckoned that over 20 percent of property in the country was destroyed.

The first refugees—some plantation workers and fishermen, but mostly farmers—said they were fleeing the bombing, the fighting, the combatants, most especially the South Vietnamese. (Later the rigors of Khmer Communist control were increasingly cited.) Despite American and Cambodian complaints, the South Vietnamese continued to regard Cambodia as a free fire zone, pillaging, burning, raping. At the town of Kep in Kampot province they ate the animals in the zoo. (A Joint Cambodian-South Vietnamese Committee appointed to examine the outrages had, by September 1971, examined three hundred cases and paid compensation on only two—$90 for a rape and $180 for a murder.) Many refugees initially made their way to Phnom Penh.

Many refugees initially made their way to provincial capitals. The town of Svay Rieng, one of the government's few enclaves in the east, became saturated, and its camps filled to overflowing. On every spare patch of street, makeshift thatched huts were erected. Work was almost impossible to find. All through 1971 and 1972 some three hundred refugees streamed in each month, many of them without money or belongings. As conditions in this and other provincial towns worsened, refugees pushed on to Phnom Penh in hope of improvement. They were disappointed. Some at first managed to find sanctuary with relatives or friends and after a few months of war it was not uncommon to find three or four families in one small home. As the economy deteriorated, it became almost impossible for the head of the original household to support all its dependents even though some of them found casual work as day laborers, cyclo drivers, street vendors, prostitutes. Shanties began to appear on the roads leading into Phnom Penh and other towns. Refugees built shelters out of bamboo, thatch, cardboard or, if they were lucky, corrugated iron. These huts gave little protection against the rain, and sanitation was scarce. In Phnom Penh, the largest encampment of this kind was just south of the city in the Southern Dike area, and month by month it grew into an intractable slum half drowned in stagnant water.

Refugees housed in government camps were little better off. The Chak Angre camp was built in the middle of Phnom Penh in December 1970. Within a year almost all of its small houses leaked, the drainage and latrines had broken down, and morale was poor. Many of the families had lost their men to the war, and the women and children rarely earned enough money to survive. By the end of 1971 malnutrition and stomach disorders were widespread in the camp.

Under a policy laid down in Washington and faithfully implemented by the embassy in Phnom Penh, American officials were actually discouraged from admitting that a refugee problem existed. Refugee work was considered incompatible with a "low profile," and it was feared that recognizing the problem might encourage further Congressional hostility toward the Nixon Doctrine. Two of the staff of Senator Edward M. Kennedy’s Refugee Subcommittee visited Cambodia in September 1970. and reported that "although U.S. officials were obviously aware of the widespread displacement of people, there was little evidence to suggest they were much concerned about the situation, its tragic potential if the war in Cambodia continued, or the impact of United States military activities on the civilian population." Nobody in the embassy was given full-time responsibility for the problem.

In Washington, William Sullivan, then Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for East Asian and Pacific Affairs, claimed that "people who are displaced have been taken care of, except the small group of people who are encamped on the outskirts of Phnom Penh itself." In Phnom Penh, embassy officials, from Ambassador Swank down, insisted that the Khmer family system was coping, that the government was proud of its independence. In fact, the Lon Nol regime was incapable of managing the flow of indigents. It never developed any coordinated refugee program and its agencies differed by a factor of one thousand percent on how many refugees there were.

If journalists, officials from charities like Catholic Relief Services or Congressional investigators asked why no humanitarian aid was being given, Swank and his superiors replied that the Cambodians had never officially asked for it. It is true that the Cambodians did not make the requests of the United States; the embassy had made it clear that they would not be granted.

Health services throughout the country began to collapse very fast under the impact of war. In 1971, a team from the Congress' General Accounting Office found that there was a critical shortage of medicine and that conditions in many hospitals were deplorable. As casualty lists lengthened and the need for medical treatment grew more acute, the facilities were further strained. Extra cots or mats were pushed into hospitals, but there was a shortage of doctors and nurses. The Ministry of Health's share of the national budget was slashed; in the first year of the war, fiscal 1971, it fell to 2.6 percent—the lowest percentage for years. In the Khmer-Soviet Friendship Hospital, which was built during Sihanouk's time, patients lined the wards and the corridors wall-to-wall, sleeping on cots, rush mats, wooden benches, the floor. Staff offices were converted into an emergency unit, but it had almost no equipment. The latrines were usually underwater. In the maternity ward mothers and newborn babies lay together on cots without any cover.

In 1969, before the war began, Cambodia had imported $7.8 million worth of drugs, paid for by exports of rice and rubber. (Some of this medicine went to the Vietnamese Communists.) In 1970, the demand for drugs soared, but only $4.1 million worth was imported. The next year, with demand still higher, the figure was almost exactly the same. By the summer of 1971, the shortage was critical; hundreds of people were dying for want of proper treatment. In one Phnom Penh hospital, a serious gastric disorder was killing off 15 percent of all infants. It would have been easily controlled with appropriate drugs. The doctor in charge complained that none was available.

Cambodian health officials asked the U.S. embassy that drugs be included under the Commodity Import Program. The request was refused. The official explanation was that the Cambodians did not control drugs carefully and much of it would be sold to the Viet Cong. This was also true of arms; hundreds of weapons were ending up on the other side, but that was never used as a reason for denying military aid. 

On June 1, 1971, Dr. Pheng Kanthel, the Ministry of Health representative on the Khmer Red Cross, came to see Robert Blackburn, a second secretary in the embassy, to ask for help in obtaining medical equipment and supplies from the American Red Cross. Blackburn agreed to contact the organization. According to his own memo of the conversation, he also told the doctor that there was little possibility of such supplies or equipment being financed by United States aid. Then, Blackburn continued, “I strongly recommended that he seek assistance through other embassies, including those of the socialist countries, as it was clear that he was seeking humanitarian assistance for civilian casualties.” Blackburn wrote on the bottom of his memo: “Comment: I have the impression that he has been launched by the Minister, that he hopes the Red Cross will provide everything he needs—even though he has no idea what he needs. I will inform the American Red Cross that there is this interest but I do not recommend that we take any further action.” His advice was accepted.

Two and a half months later, after hearing nothing, Dr. Kanthel wrote to Samuel Krakow, the Director of International Services of the American Red Cross. He began by thanking Krakow for aid offered by the American Red Cross in 1968 and reminded him that they had met at a conference in Vienna, “an encounter which will always remain vivid in my memory.” Now, wrote the doctor, Cambodia was in difficulties. Since March 1970,

Communists aggression against Cambodia generated medico-sanitary problems. Hospitals of Phnom Penh both civilian and military are over-crowded with the sick and wounded. People have fled from insecure rural areas, taken refuge in the capital whose population has increased from 600,000 to 2 millions. In the provinces, also, people have flocked in urban areas whose medical facilities are destroyed by the aggressors either kill or wound the medical staff and the civilian population. . . . The war is going on, casualties are increasing steadily resulting in an alarming rapid decline of our medical, clothing and food stockpiles although we did receive a large number of aids from friendly countries.

He was “taking the liberty” to ask the American Red Cross

to send us in the shortest possible time such drugs as antibiotics, vitamins, antimalaria, etc. . . . and such medical articles as dressing materials, surgery equipment, clothing and food. . . . We sincerely hope your friendly and urgent intervention with American Red Cross will help us assume our responsibilities. We did approach the U.S. Embassy in Phnom Penh but no response has yet been obtained.

Dr. Kanthel waited for over six months for a reply. On February 17, 1972, Krakow wrote to offer the Cambodians 6,433 bottles containing 385,900 vitamin tablets. “Before these can be shipped to Khmer, we must have your Society’s acceptance of the shipment, with a statement regarding duty-free entry.”

The Blackburn memorandum was leaked to Senator Kennedy's Refugee Subcommittee; and some months later, at a hearing on Cambodia, Kennedy asked how Washington had followed up Dr. Kanthel's request. Thomas Corcoran, State's Cambodian desk officer replied, "We received this request in order to pass it on to the American Red Cross, and we did pass it on to the Red Cross."

"Continue," said Kennedy.

"We have heard no more about it," said Corcoran. "Do you follow it up at all? Do you just pass the buck? Is there any humanitarian aid in the budget?" Kennedy demanded. There was a silence in the hearing room.

Finally, an AID official, Roderic O'Connor, tried to explain why the United States did not send medicines to Cambodia.

Kennedy interrupted. "I simply can't understand how a request of this sort—for needed medical supplies for refugees and victims of a war which we help fuel—how you can allow such a request to be handled in this fashion. . . . If that request had been for military aid—for guns or air support—how many hours do you think it would take for us to respond?"

It was not until second half of 1972, after increasing pressure from Kennedy and other members of Congress, and after the embassy could no longer pretend that the plight of the refugees did not exist, that the administration was prepared to admit a serious problem. A modest relief program was begun. Largely because Congress had by now imposed a ceiling of 200 personnel on the American embassy, funds were given to charities like Catholic Relief Services and World Vision to expand their own relief efforts in the country. Of the total $244.1 million given in American aid between July 1972 and July 1973, $1.2 million was for refugee assistance.

Graft had been one of the issues that encouraged urban support for Sihanouk's removal; it was nothing new. But before 1970 it had been controlled, in part by the Prince's authority, in part because Cambodia's economy was small and self-sufficient. As the economy became dependent on American aid and as Cambodians exercised less and less control over their own economic and political life, a sense of responsibility and caution diminished.

Three ministries took most of the wartime budget—Defense, Education and Finance. The most corrupt was Defense. Given the speed with which the Army was expanded from about 37,000 to over 200,000 in two years this was perhaps understandable. The biggest source of "bonjour" lay in the pay packets of "phantom soldiers." Individual commanders, recruiting whom they could, submitted their own units' pay claims and were supposed to distribute salaries when (and if) the money was produced. Throughout the war dishonest commanders inflated the rolls and pocketed the salaries of nonexistent men. Many colonels would not pay the troops who really did exist, and hungry soldiers often resorted to pillaging villages, alienating the peasants. When men and their families were on the point of riot the Ministry of Defense would demand more funds from the Ministry of Finance. Then Lon Nol endorsed the demands, and the money had to be found or printed.

No one will ever know just how much was stolen and dissipated in this way. But the sums were not inconsiderable, and they grew every year as the Joint Chiefs, Kissinger and Haig insisted on expansion of Lon Nol's forces. One FANK census of July 1971 showed there were already at least 22,000 "phantom soldiers," with another 46,000 real troops actually untraceable. At the end of 1971, Laird's office sent out auditors, who concluded that between 6 and 8 percent of all salaries were being paid to "ghosts" and that in one month alone $280,000 was padded onto the payroll. This was nothing to what was to come. In the second half of 1972, Lon Nol decided he needed to buy more loyalty from his officer corps and told regional commanders that they could raise their recruiting levels. As a result, by the end of the year payrolls leaped by another 50,000, to over 300,000. In Washington the General Accounting Office determined that in 1973 between $750,000 and $1.1 million was being paid to “phantoms”—that is to their officers—every month. In its Termination Report, the Agency for International Development concluded that 20 to 40 percent of all military salaries were lost in this way.

In the face of this corruption the United States embassy, acting on orders from the White House, did almost nothing. General Mataxis scoffed at those who complained. His successor General John Cleland did attempt some reforms, but he was, if anything, even more easily angered by criticisms from individual diplomats within the embassy. Both men could and did insist that the logic of the Nixon Doctrine supported their inaction.

One of those who were most indignant about their attitude was William Harben, who came to the embassy in January 1972 as Chief of the Political Section. Harben's first assignment in the Foreign Service had been in Bonn in the early fifties; he had served directly under John Paton Davies—who was soon to fall victim to the McCarthy purge of the State Department because he had reported from China (over twenty-two years before it was accepted) that Mao Tse-tung was an effective leader with whom the United States should deal. Davies taught Harben the value of skepticism about official attitudes, and by the time he reached Cambodia, at fifty, Harben, who had never taken easily to the niceties of diplomatic life, found it hard to tolerate lies: his reporting style was as pungent as Khmer political life. Today Harben argues that “American toleration of military corruption led directly to defeat. Every imported motorcycle cost the Army a squad, every car a platoon.” He spent most of 1972 writing

. One of Harben's reports recounted a fight in the Assembly between two deputies, Hoeur Lay Inn and Ung Mung. Hoeur Lay Inn, he wrote, “is fond of the meat of the Cambodian wild ox, which acquires a special piquancy due to its habit, in the dry season, of uniting into a hole it stamps in the ground and quaffing the contents.” Harben related how Hoeur Lay Inn retained the friendship of both the Russians and the Americans, serving the Americans bakhseesh vodka and caviar given him by a man from TASS. He was “a Cambodian wild ox and has a temper to match”; he had survived a succession of beautiful wives. Ung Mung, on the other hand, was “unpopular, sharp-tongued, opportunistic.” During a recent angry debate in the Assembly, “Ung Mung unwisely advanced to the podium to escalate the vituperation still further but collided with Hoeur Lay Inn, who kicked him painfully in the groin and chased him through the hall, pounding him with his fists and overturning tables.”

long memos to Swank and to the Deputy Chief of Mission, Thomas Enders, about embezzlement of funds; nothing ever happened. One memo to Enders complained about the huge villas that unit commanders were building all over Phnom Penh with their "phantom money." Harben pointed out that there was an extreme shortage of military accommodation and suggested the villas should be seized by the government and used to house military families or refugees instead of the mistresses of the officer corps. Enders ignored his suggestion. When Harben complained to a visiting Washington official, the man replied, "Oh well, it's better they spend the money here than take it to Switzerland." (Some did that as well) Another of Harben's papers was attacked by General Cleland as "anti-Lon Nol propaganda."

To his fury Harben found that Ambassador Swank would not take his side against the United States military on the issue of corruption. Admitting this, Swank argues that "this was their society. We were not there to reform it." Even talk of corruption was discouraged for fear of the press and for fear of increasing Congressional reluctance to continue funding the war.

Harben was also appalled by Lon Nol. He wrote a long paper entitled "The Anthropological Lon Nol" in which he detailed the Marshal's bizarre idiosyncrasies. Swank allowed the paper to be sent to Washington, and members of the NSC staff were furious, accusing the embassy of "racism." (The State Department has refused to declassify the paper under the Freedom of Information Act.) Harben was right. Month by month the Marshal's behavior became more autocratic. The debacle of Chenla II only temporarily restrained his meddling in the conduct of battles. His political interference was at least as damaging. In October 1971, he suspended the Assembly and assumed emergency rule, saying that he would no longer "play the game of democracy and freedom." At the same time Sirik Matak, the Prime Minister-designate, imposed new restrictions on the press. These moves, together with Chenla II, infuriated Phnom Penh students, who by now realized that Lon Nol was far more corrupt and dictatorial than Sihanouk had ever been. In March 1972 students began to demonstrate against the government and especially to demand the dismissal of Sirik Matak, who had himself dismissed a critic of government, Keo An, the Dean of the Law Faculty.

Lon Nol chose the moment of this crisis to overthrow Cheng Heng, the Chief of State. He declared that he was now Chief of State himself (as well as Prime Minister and Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces) and dissolved the Assembly. Even Sirik Matak refused to serve in his new regime, and so Lon Nol appointed Son Ngoc Thanh "First Minister." After twenty-five years of fighting with American help, the leader of the Khmer Serei had achieved a powerful position in his country. The students retreated, then attacked again. At the end of April, government forces fired on a group of them, hitting at least twenty. Lon Nol proclaimed a new constitution that gave the executive branch overwhelming powers. It was approved by a referendum after the populace was warned that a vote against it was a vote for Communism. Under the provisions of the new constitution, Lon Nol then put himself forward for election as President.

In the midst of this turmoil Kissinger launched another of his National Security Study Memoranda—No. 152, "Cambodia Assessment"—into the bureaucracy. "The President has directed," he wrote on March 27, 1972, "the preparation of an assessment of the current situation in Cambodia, prospects for the next eighteen months and actions we might take to advance our objectives in Cambodia." He wanted to know how stable Lon Nol was, how Cambodian-South Vietnamese relations could be improved, how the Cambodian Air Force could be developed, how the army could be made more effective and "the importance in military terms of Vietnamization of various Cambodian contributions including denial of supply through a Cambodian port, allied air operations against supply routes in Eastern Cambodia, cooperation with ARVN in cross-border operations against logistics and training areas, and diversion of NVA and VC combat forces away from Vietnam."

Kissinger asked for two studies, one military, to be chaired by the Pentagon and one political, by State. As usual, they stretched beyond the nominal deadline he set. For months dozens of offices and scores of officials throughout Washington were occupied with seeking, acquiring, ordering and analyzing information for the White House, and being told to take it back for modification and review. The papers demonstrate how clearly Washington understood the nature of the regime it had already supported for two years and would sustain for almost three years more.

The memoranda were dominated by Lon Nol and by the effect of his incompetence upon the country. The U.S. Army psychiatrist's report was cited, and there was general agreement that "his own erratic actions" had eroded a great deal of his original support. His meddling in battlefield tactics had alienated the army; "his authoritarian actions" had lost him the support of the Buddhists, students and many politicians. The coalition that had overthrown Sihanouk had fallen apart. Ambassador Swank reported that Lon Nol, "gives the impression of a rider astride a somewhat rebellious horse whose actions he cannot fully control."

A military paper, written by Brigadier General A.P. Hanket, the Chairman of the Military Study Group, noted five deficiencies in the Cambodian army: leadership and discipline; strategy and force utilization; the personnel system; the logistics; training. Behind all of these lurked the problem of Lon Nol:

He is a political figure and uses the FANK for political as well as military ends. He insures that promotion and good assignments go to the loyal officers, not all of whom are capable. He ignores normal staff procedures, in many instances, going to officers whom he knows and trusts. This proclivity of the Marshal to ignore the established command/staff system makes the development of an effective chain of command and a functioning staff at FANK HQ difficult if not impossible. Field commanders bypass the HQ or ignore HQ directives to the extent they believe their political affiliations will allow.

This, the paper stated, undermined almost every aspect of the war effort. It harmed personnel actions, encouraged late or inaccurate reports from unit commanders, hurt the intelligence system, since commanders relied on personal networks, not FANK, and disrupted logistics.

As a consequence the staff is frustrated and cautious, and the commanders in the field castigate the staff in Phnom Penh for inactivity and lack of support.

The report noted that

it isn't enough to produce trained units complete with qualified officer and non-commissioned officer personnel; these leaders must operate within a system that gives them direction and insists on results. If malaise, nepotism or weakness is allowed to exist at the top it will pervade the entire organization.

From Phnom Penh, Swank agreed that Lon Nol was almost exclusively to blame for the spirit of "drift and futility" that now slouched through Phnom Penh's streets and the ranks of the army. The political section of NSSM 152 identified possible successors to Lon Nol. There was First Minister Son Ngoc Thanh, whom one of the NSSM documents called "Cambodia's George Washington." But, it noted, if he became President, "This would represent a propaganda windfall for the enemy, since it has been charged and is apparently believed in some U.S. circles and even in the Congress that Thanh's Khmer Serei was supported by the CIA and was instrumental in bringing about Sihanouk's overthrow at the behest of the U.S."

An alternative was Sirik Matak. The papers stated that he had, for many years, maintained extremely close relations with the United States. He was a competent politician and an adequate administrator. But, NSSM 152 noted, his conspicuous wealth and dictatorial methods denied him support among students and intellectuals. Next was Major General Sak Sutsakhan, the Defense Minister and Deputy Chief of Staff, who had managed the singular feat of staying honest and close to Lon Nol. NSSM 152 believed that he was highly regarded by the military, who would probably support him in a crisis; and that his frustrations over the malaise of the war might induce him to make a bid for political power.

The most plausible candidate appeared to be In Tam, former Brevet General, Governor of Kompong Som, First Deputy Prime Minister, Assemblyman, leader of the Democratic Party. One NSSM paper noted that he is "among the most politically experienced of possible pretenders to the leadership position." Unlike many of his peers, he lived simply and unpretentiously and had preserved a reputation for honesty. He had the support of youth, intellectuals, civil servants and some military officers. However, the regular army did not like him, and he was criticized for his "mandarin" attitude and for refusing to listen to subordinates' advice. In Tam had little experience in foreign affairs and had "a tendency to become emotional when frustrated." Nevertheless, he "has a popular following, an integrity and personal courage rare in Khmer leaders... He displayed a very good sense of military organization and tactical ability in Kompong Cham in 1970."

As these conclusions were being made in Washington, In Tam proposed himself for election as an alternative to President Lon Nol in the summer 1972 election. Keo An, the ousted Dean of the Law Faculty, also entered the electoral lists. In Tam's platform promised that the military was to be reformed, and the direction of battlefield tactics would be left with the general staff, where they belonged. Keo An capitalized on the growing pro-Sihanouk sentiment by promising to allow the Prince to return home "as a private citizen." Each man's program was popular. The contest presented Washington a unique opportunity. Although almost no one was now prepared to defend Lon Nol’s mental or military competence, United States policy had always been to give absolutely no support to his political opponents. Asked why, Swank would cite the murder of Vietnamese President Ngo Dinh Diem in the 1963 coup, which was backed by the CIA. That was certainly an unhappy precedent; the United States embassy wished, with good reason, to avoid a repetition. But the election offered the prospect of Lon Nol’s removal with no such risks. All that Washington need do was to insist that it be conducted fairly.

The result could not have been predicted with confidence, but in May 1972 there was consensus in the American and Western embassies that the most popular candidate was In Tam. Many diplomats believed that he might be able to rally and rejuvenate the weary country. He might also attract back from the Khmer Rouge, whose growth was beginning to concern the United States embassy, those who had defected out of horror at Lon Nol’s government rather than revolutionary zeal. If the embassy insisted on visibly fair electoral procedures, In Tam’s victory would be possible, and then Lon Nol could be gently retired.

No such pressure was applied. Despite the evidence produced, the papers of NSSM 152 concluded that Lon Nol was "the key to stability" and "to the extent that political instability develops the war effort will suffer, an eventuality contrary to U.S. interests and the prospects for the success of Vietnamization." They went further and argued against an attempt to persuade Lon Nol to attack corruption or reform the staff structure. The results of such pressure "would be difficult to predict but would be highly dangerous and could well eliminate or seriously reduce our existing influence and the effectiveness of our assistance program." Exactly the same arguments had been applied in Vietnam years before.

From Phnom Penh, Swank urged that the United States should let the Khmer politicians "play out their hand without outside interference." In Washington, participants on NSSM 152 agreed that "we should refrain from overt or covert acts designed to manipulate the outcome of the evolving political situation in Cambodia."

At the same time, the Joint Chiefs were pressing, at General Cleland’s request, for more military aid to Lon Nol. They wanted more assistance to the Khmer military personnel system; money for a separate finance

* The Pentagon Papers noted that after the big U.S. buildup in South Vietnam in 1965, neither Washington nor the embassy would find a "compelling reason to be tough with Saigon; it would only prematurely rock the boat. To press for efficiency would be likely, it was reasoned, to generate instability.

directorate of the army; more military advisers, perhaps from Korea; more military training, perhaps in Indonesia; more Filipino logisticians; more help from New Zealand and Australia; and more bombing by the Thai Air Force. The tasks that Congress had forbidden Americans to perform were to be farmed out to allies and clients. Most importantly, they wanted direct United States involvement in Lon Nol's vague plans for a "General Mobilization" of the countryside.

It was a crucial feature of the Nixon Doctrine that the United States give military support to Lon Nol, tolerate his corruption, and also assert that it was not intervening in Cambodian politics. One American official reflected his own despair over the charade when later, in an official report, he likened America's intervention in Cambodia to the arrival of a 25-foot shark in a backyard swimming pool filled with children who cannot escape. Even if the shark assumes a "low profile" and lies motionless, he displaces a great deal of water and interest over his intentions begins to affect everyone's behavior.

If, in addition, he also brings some toys for a few of the children and casts a baleful eye at anyone who appears to want to interfere with the enjoyment of the few, behavior will become almost ritualistic in its predictability. Even if those receiving toys ruin life in the pool for everyone else, there will be no interference with their activities. The shark's awesome potential will assure that.

During the election campaign Lon Nol announced that if he were not reelected all United States aid would immediately be suspended. Washington did not deny it. His brother, Lon Non, returned from Paris with the avowed purpose of seeing that Lon Nol won under any circumstances. The vote took place on June 4. Army units voted in serried ranks with their officers—those same officers whom Lon Nol allowed to pad their payrolls—counting the ballots. According to the official figures Lon Nol won 55 percent of the votes cast, In Tam had 24 percent and Keo An 21 percent.

Harben, together with other American and Western diplomats, was convinced that the count, especially in the provinces where there was little foreign observation, was fraudulent. Lon Non boasted that he had raised his brother's share of the vote from 35 percent. Harben prepared a paper in which he detailed the electoral malpractices; the ambassador refused to send it to Washington. Swank now says, "There were too many unsubstantiated allegations in it."

Harben's comment was typically angry. "Washington collaborated in delivering total control of its military aid into the hands of a man who had been appointed because of his incompetence," he wrote later. "Far out on a limb in an election year with its 'Nixon Doctrine,' the administration did not want anyone to see the albatross around its neck." He was right. It is clear from almost all the papers in NSSM 152, which rolled on and on through the summer of 1972, that Lon Nol's incompetence was not only irrelevant, it was actually valuable. The crucial point was that neither Washington nor Hanoi wanted a cease-fire in Cambodia before Vietnam. At least until 1973 each wished its associate to continue a limited war. So long as Lon Nol remained to conduct his holy struggle against the demon Communists no cease-fire was likely. A more realistic leader might have tried a path of accommodation. One NSSM 152 paper pointed out what would happen if a separate peace were arranged in Cambodia. For now the Thais and the South Vietnamese were ostensibly Cambodia's allies, but a unilateral settlement by the Khmers "would likely bring South Vietnamese and possibly Thai incursions, which would subject the Khmer countryside to continued damage and destruction and possible foreign domination of another stripe." The threat was clear; the Cambodians could not win, but if they tried to retire, war would be waged against them as aggressively as now—by their current friends.