Tag: FOREIGN POLICY

  • James DiEugenio, Destiny Betrayed (Second Edition)


    By 1967, Jim Garrison became the Prometheus to the Achesonian Olympus. 

     – Robert Spiegelman 


    I.  Garrison Unbound

    About three years ago, at the Lancer “November in Dallas” conference, Jim DiEugenio gave an address entitled “Historical Revisionism and the JFK Case”, in which he defended his criticism of a few recent theories of the assassination, criticism which some – quite mistakenly, in this writer’s opinion – interpreted as counter to the spirit of free inquiry.  The main point of his presentation was that revisionism should not denote a quest for novelty at the expense of accuracy.  If we are to have any hope of coming to terms with what happened on November 22, 1963, we must take care to remain focused on the evidence.  The reissue of Destiny Betrayed is extremely timely in this respect.  I would fancy that when DiEugenio gave this talk, the need for an updated edition of his 1992 book had already crystallized in his thinking; but as we enter the 50th anniversary year it has become ever more urgent, as his lecture suggested, to revisit the breakthroughs made during the first decade and a half after John Kennedy’s death, and to build on them using the knowledge and insight we have since acquired.  This thoroughly rewritten study does precisely that.

    No single person uncovered as many clues1 in that early period of the JFK investigation as did Jim Garrison.  And it is impossible for the reader not to take away from Destiny Betrayed a sense of indebtedness to those leads. But the reader also cannot help but be impressed by the imposing factual edifice that is erected upon them.  In that same lecture, DiEugenio paraphrased Garrison concerning what an investigator should hope to achieve in this case:  “… a paradigm that would be justified internally by the evidence yet [whose] overall design would fit the shape of the plot.”  This book fulfills Garrison’s prescription by offering an abundance of details – more so than perhaps any other reconstruction of the crime – that fit the players and their activities together into a coherent picture.

    It does so in large part through the constant confrontation of old information with the new.  From the seemingly inexhaustible font of documents declassified by the ARRB have flowed forth revelations in a number of areas explored by the author:  Vietnam, the Bay of Pigs, Mexico City, James Angleton’s role in the setup of Oswald, Shaw and his legal team’s CIA connections, the Clark Panel and HSCA medical cover-ups, the complicity of the media and the federal government in sabotaging Garrison’s investigation – to name just a few highlights from the wide scope of this book.  Further, the author’s own interviews during the mid-90s, his 1994 inspection of the DA’s files (he was the first person outside his staff allowed to copy Garrison’s files), along with the work of John Newman, John Armstrong, Bill Davy, and Jim Douglass, as well as a host of articles published in Probe by others such as Lisa Pease and Donald Gibson: these are all mustered to good effect in support of Garrison’s case.  The corroborative weight of this evidence is quite compelling.  Yet the author never ceases to remind us, as did the twelfth-century schoolmaster Bernard of Chartres, that if we can see farther, it is because we are dwarves standing on the shoulders of giants (and in particular, one giant, jolly and green though he may have been deemed).

    This study not only offers convincing confirmation for Garrison’s hypotheses, but also ratifies Garrison’s more general suspicions concerning the clandestine interference with his investigation, and the direction in which the country was heading.  In preparing this review, this writer had occasion to reread Garrison’s interview given to Playboy magazine in October 1967, and was impressed by the lucidity, force, and uncanny relevance of his final remarks:

    our Government is the CIA and the Pentagon, with Congress reduced to a debating society … We won’t build Dachaus and Auschwitzes; the clever manipulation of the mass media is creating a concentration camp of the mind that promises to be far more effective in keeping the populace in line … I’ve learned enough about the machinations of the CIA in the past year to know that this is no longer the dream world America I once believed in … Huey Long once said, “Fascism will come to America in the name of anti-fascism.” I’m afraid, based on my own experience, that fascism will come to America in the name of national security.

    Recall, this was 1967!2  At a distance of 50 years, where half of one’s readership has no memory of the event, the question of relevance naturally arises; but such relevance is not realized by fishing for links between the assassination and personages responsible for recent political crimes or abuses, as some of the authors criticized in DiEugenio’s lecture do, for these mostly end up having the consistency of gossamer.  As Garrison alerted us, it is to the institutional consequences of the assassination that we must look, because, as Lisa Pease opines in her preface to the book, “the same operational template can be run again” (and indeed has been, repeatedly).  Destiny Betrayed does not bludgeon the reader with this message; it makes the point cogently by showing rather than by telling.

    For a number of reasons, this is not a typical book on the JFK assassination. As DiEugenio himself has declared (see, for instance, his remarks at the beginning of his well-known review of JFK and the Unspeakable), it was already his intention with the first edition to bring assassination research out of the ghetto.  What he had in mind was a broadening of perspective beyond the mechanics of Dealey Plaza or the suspicious goings-on at Bethesda, and this is precisely the manner in which the reader is made to enter the maze:

    The events that exploded in Dallas on November 22, 1963, had their genesis in Washington on a February day in 1947.

    Much as with the traditional novel, one can almost unpack the remaining four-hundred-odd pages from that single opening assertion. The quest for the appropriate context in which to decipher JFK’s presidency and death is one of the principal tasks undertaken by the author.  But his formal choices also transform his engagement with these events from a simple act of sleuthing into a veritable essay in the hermeneutics of history. 

    To illustrate what I mean by this, let me begin by observing that a dialogue of past and present is inscribed in the book through the interplay of narration and commentary. The narrative building-blocks are ordered mainly along chronological lines, leading from the initial post-war articulations of U.S. foreign policy, through JFK’s presidency, the activities in New Orleans and Dallas preceding his death, and the subsequent domestic investigations, to conclude with some reflections about the continuing impact of the assassination and its cover-up on the political climate of the United States today.  This basic organization is, however, selectively adjusted for thematic purposes; for instance, Oswald’s activities in New Orleans (chpts. 5-6) are separated from his return to the U.S. and his final days (chpt. 8) by a flash-back dealing with his early life and defection (chpt. 7), thus lending, by its central position, an explanatory prominence to his intelligence training.  (I should add here that these latter two chapters form the best concise treatment of Oswald I have yet to read.)  The last three chapters also break with the preceding linear progression (more on this below).  But emerging from within this broadly forward sweep are also narrative swirls and eddies where the author interrupts his story in order to indicate a noteworthy nexus which will be handled more fully later, or which involves knowledge we now possess but which was unavailable then.  Far from obscuring or confusing the chain of events, this weaving in and out of strict chronology – and its attendant modulation between points of view – is adroitly handled and lends a sense of continuous integration to the reader’s journey.

    Another narrative technique, related to and often conjoined with the preceding one, is that of the leitmotif.  For instance, we meet a corporation called Freeport Sulphur in the very first chapter with respect to mining concessions in 1950s Cuba.  We return to that company in the context of Garrison’s discovery of a Freeport link between Shaw, Ferrie and Banister (chpt. 10); then again in terms of Gaeton Fonzi’s reinvestigation of those leads for the HSCA (chpt. 15).  And then finally, in the fullest and most crushing context, with that ignoble corporation’s role in the Indonesian coup, related in the penultimate chapter.  Another example of this technique centers on the CIA’s turn to drug-running money after Kennedy defunded Mongoose, which we first read about in Chapter 6, and then again in Garrison’s discovery of the Ruby-Oswald-Cheramie connection (chpt. 10), with further confirmation via reference to Douglas Valentine’s discovery (2004) of the CIA’s infiltration of U.S. Customs, followed by a discussion of the Hubert-Griffin memo (see Section III below), putting Sergio Arcacha Smith, whose name peppers the pages of this book, decidedly in the middle of it all.  Leitmotif is also used with respect to one of the cardinal figures in this story, Bernardo DeTorres.  He is  first discussed in the context of how news of the back channel to Castro was divulged among the Cuban exiles (chpt. 4), then with respect to his infiltration of Garrison’s inchoate investigation (chpt. 11), and then again with reference to his independent discovery by Fonzi through Rolando Otero which led to his wider connection to the probable operational faction of the plot (chpt. 15).

    The artful use of such devices lends to Destiny Betrayed a concern with the intimate connection between meaning and expository process shared by few other books on this subject, the vast majority of which are simply organized by topic.  More specifically, these literary techniques do not serve as mere artifice, extraneously imposed on the material, but emerge naturally from it, as the author winds and unwinds his thread through the Daedalian intricacies of a story that ultimately is revealed to have explicated itself.  For over the retrospective span of the intervening decades, events have indeed disclosed their own significance before our very eyes, not only through documentary releases, but by the repeated pattern of the actions of their protagonists.  One of the theses of the book is that the JFK assassination and the destruction of Garrison were interlocking covert operations, in which some of the same players were involved.  Another theme, which runs in parallel, is that Kennedy’s presidency blocked the progress of economic globalism, which was then restored after his death.  We are made conscious of these relationships, not just through a series of momentary epiphanies, but ultimately through participation in a larger unfolding.  In a profound sense, this book claims that the meaning of November 22, 1963, lies as much in what subsequent occurrences have affirmed as in the case that can be constructed directly from the facts and circumstances of the crime.

    This conviction manifests itself finally in the book’s broadest architecture, one based on recapitulation.  The concluding chapters generate a triad of embedded arches – or perhaps even concentric rings:  the outermost (chpts. 1-4, plus 17) deals with Cold War policy and JFK, echoed by a discussion of foreign policy changes under LBJ; inside that, we have a similar structure (chpts. 5-8, plus 16) addressing the significance of Garrison’s discoveries about New Orleans and Oswald and ending with Mexico City, the importance of which Garrison clearly understood, but the full truth about which was concealed from his view.  This leaves the innermost tripartite (and most drama-like) sequence (chpts. 9-10, 11-13, 14-15) tracing Garrison’s career and entry into the case, the government and media campaign against him, and the actions subsequent to Shaw’s acquittal, including how the same forces deployed against Garrison made a shambles of the House Select Committee on Assassinations. (Chapter 18 completes the composition, serving as a coda to the entire book).

    At the center stands, of course, Jim Garrison, the oracular voice decrying national calamity and a knowing participant in his own professional ruin, whose vindication is as much a part of the story DiEugenio tells as is the exposure of the powers which removed JFK from office.  It is, in fact, this dovetailing of two lives, this fateful encounter of purpose, that gives Destiny Betrayed its dramatic design. The book’s felicitous title, retained for this second edition, suggests an underlying logic impelling actions toward their “dénouement” (the title of the final chapter); a process, to take the author at his etymological word, to be perceived as the untying of a knot.  The book’s title not only implies (somewhat paradoxically) the deliberate theft of what should have been, both in terms of U.S. foreign policy and in terms of bringing (at least one) of the perpetrators to justice; it also hints at how the unraveling of five decades has “betrayed” – that is, revealed – the character of both John Kennedy and Jim Garrison, despite monumental exertions to conceal or distort the truth.


    The Afro-Asian revolution of nationalism, the revolt against colonialism, the determination of people to control their national destinies … in my opinion the tragic failure of both Republican and Democratic administrations since World War II to comprehend the nature of this revolution, and its potentialities for good and evil, has reaped a bitter harvest today—and it is by rights and by  necessity a major foreign policy campaign issue that has nothing to do with anti-communism. 

     – John F. Kennedy, from a speech given during the Stevenson campaign, 1956


    II. JFK, the Cold War Establishment, and Cuba 

    As mentioned in the preceding section, the first four chapters of  the book, along with the penultimate one, raise a fundamental issue:  whether JFK was ever a “Cold-Warrior”, and whether the assassination had any effect on the policies he had been pursuing.  Seriously posing this question has long been anathema to mainstream writers on both the Left and the Right, some choosing to feign perplexity at the so-called “enigma” that was John F. Kennedy.  At the very least we may observe that historians have been burdened by a considerable amount of preconceived baggage regarding what Kennedy’s politics could or could not have been.  Yet I think John Newman put his finger on the crux of the matter in his masterful JFK and Vietnam:  if one concentrates on the rhetorical indirections of his public statements – which JFK felt compelled to practice, for better or for worse, out of fear of vitiating his political efficacy – then one may derive the picture of a man who is mostly in conformity with the ideological matrix of his time.  But as Newman teaches us, that is not the best way to understand his presidency.  For, in the end, it is what he actually did and did not do which tells the more authentic tale.  DiEugenio is not insensitive to the political pragmatist in Kennedy; but speaking of his desire to bolster his anti-communist credentials, especially during the 1960 campaign, the author insists that “below the level of campaign rhetoric, John Kennedy was not simply a more youthful version of Eisenhower” [19]3.  Even James Douglass, with whose marvelous book this one aptly bears comparison (more on this momentarily), can be led astray by this side of JFK into believing that he changed his foreign policy stance in some essential way while he was president. With Destiny Betrayed, I believe we are finally given firmer footing for posing this question properly.

    In order to do so, one must look to origins.  That is where the first chapter, Legacy, begins. From the opening allusion to the request from the British Embassy asking Secretary of State Marshall for aid in quelling insurrection in Turkey and Greece, through the Truman Doctrine, the Marshall Plan, NATO and the National Security Act, we witness the fateful passage from republic to empire as the United States assumes custody of former European colonial interests in the name of containing putative Communist aggression and the Domino Theory.  For DiEugenio, the key which unlocks what follows is this implicit marriage of ideology with economic interest.  Out of that unholy alliance is born, through the midwifery of Allen Dulles, the de facto executive arm of neo-colonialism in the guise of a drastically metamorphosed CIA.  In Dulles, in fact, these two lines – a hard-core view of the Soviet Union (which he shared with Nazi intelligence chief Reinhard Gehlen, whose vast network Dulles, while chief of the Berlin OSS office, helped retain with Gehlen in control), and a globalist perspective held in common with the Rockefeller corporate interests (which he and his brother John served as senior partners at the Wall Street firm of Sullivan and Cromwell) – converged perfectly and literally became one.  To quote DiEugenio, “With Allen Dulles, the acronym ‘CIA’ came to stand for ‘Corporate Interests of America’” [6].  By the time of the Bay of Pigs, so the long buried Lovett-Bruce report tells us, 80% of the CIA’s budget was going to covert operations [49].

    While belief in the necessity of a nuclear deterrent is certainly one component of Cold War ideology, this Dulles-Rockefeller view of the Third World as their own economic protectorate is equally, if not more, critical.  So, too, these two elements should bear at least equal weight when we assess the Kennedy presidency. DiEugenio’s treatment of the assassination plot shares a great deal of ground with that of Douglass’s JFK and the Unspeakable, but it gives us a sharper picture of what made JFK so different from his peers by concentrating much more single-mindedly on this second pane of the Cold War lens. Though Douglass does write incisively about Kennedy’s resistance to the national security agenda in his Cuba and Vietnam decisions, his claim that JFK underwent an Augustinian moment in the garden during the Missile Crisis is, from the wider angle sought by DiEugenio, overstated (and the only feature which mars Douglass’s otherwise convincing treatment of Kennedy).  Rather than conversion, DiEugenio’s chosen trope for JFK’s coming into his own is that of education, which he borrows from Richard Mahoney’s seminal work, JFK: Ordeal in Africa (1984).4  Taking his cue from that study, DiEugenio locates the decisive moment in Kennedy’s 1951 tour of the Far East and his meeting with Edmund Gullion, senior official at the American Embassy in Saigon (and later appointed by Kennedy as Ambassador to the Congo), an encounter which Robert Kennedy said had a major effect on his brother’s thinking [21-22].

    From there the counterpoint between JFK’s views and the actions of the Dulles circle becomes increasingly evident. Kennedy even criticized his own party (Truman and Acheson) for their intellectual indolence in this area. In 1953 he wrote then Secretary of State John Foster Dulles a letter with forty-seven specific questions about what the U.S. aims in Vietnam were, asking how a military solution (including use of atomic weapons) could actually be feasible. While the Eisenhower government secretly conspired to undermine the Geneva accords and have the U.S. assume France’s role in Saigon, Kennedy began to give more speeches about the struggle of African and Asian peoples to throw off the yoke of oppression.  The culminating moment in all this came in 1957 when he defended Algerian independence on the floor of the Senate, much to the disapprobation not only of about two-thirds of the major newspapers, but also of one of the Democrats farthest to the left, for whom he had in fact campaigned in 1956: Adlai Stevenson [22-28].  The author is correct to lament the lack of attention given to this speech in the assassination literature. Where Douglass, with good reason, sees the American University speech delivered in June of 1963 as a pivotal event in JFK’s Cold War diplomacy, DiEugenio is surely also right to consider the Algeria speech the Rosetta Stone for what JFK would later do and not do in the Oval Office.  In fact, it would have been a good idea to excerpt the entire speech as an appendix in order to show just how far out of the mainstream Senator Kennedy was before he became president.

    One of the author’s virtues is his determination to avoid isolating any one foreign policy decision from all the others.  For the total picture eloquently proves Kennedy’s substantial divergence, not just from the Dulles coterie, but also from his own advisers.  It is unnecessary to dwell at length here on what has become familiar since Newman’s 1992 opus, because it has been clamorously confirmed by the ARRB’s declassification of documents:  Kennedy’s plans for withdrawal from Vietnam began in 1962 and were made official in May of 1963.  DiEugenio does a fine job summarizing this “Virtual JFK” material, demonstrating the stark reversal of policy which occurred a mere forty-eight hours after the assassination, and which LBJ strove to disguise [365-371].  What the book adds to all this is a series of before-and-after snapshots from other areas of JFK’s Third-World policy, images which capture the same panorama.

    In the Congo, for instance, Kennedy favored the nationalists against the Belgian and British allies who wished to see the mineral-rich Katanga province secede.  It is more than probable that Lumumba’s assassination was instigated by Allen Dulles to occur just before Kennedy took office [28-29].  President Kennedy thereafter interceded twice with the U.N. to convince them to maintain peacekeeping forces in the region, which they did. Kennedy’s preferences, backed by the U.N., for how to train the Congolese were nevertheless subverted by the Pentagon in its support of eventual dictator Mobutu Sese Seko.  LBJ, on the other hand, clearly allied the U.S. with Belgium, and in 1964 allowed right-wing Rhodesians and South Africans to join in this supposed war on a “Chinese inspired Left”, the economic consequences of which were a tremendous boon to Mobutu and the West but disaster for the Congolese [371-373].

    JFK’s Indonesian policy follows a similar course.  On behalf of Standard Oil and other Rockefeller interests, the CIA had unsuccessfully attempted a Guatemala-like coup there in the late 50s;  Kennedy not only broke with this direction, but went well beyond it, befriending the PKI-allied (i.e., “Communist”) Sukarno, and in a parallel with the Congo, also obtaining U.N. support for the return of West Irian, another mineral-rich region coveted by Euro-American corporations, from the Netherlands to the Indonesians [31-33]. JFK’s Indonesian aid bill was never signed by LBJ.  A chain reaction, begun by LBJ’s siding with the British over the creation of Malaysia, followed by Indonesia’s withdrawal from the World Bank and IMF, finally resulted in a CIA-prompted bloodbath of genocidal proportions foreshadowing Operation Phoenix.  Like Mobutu in the Congo, the new Indonesian government under Suharto brokered mining rights off to the highest bidder [373-375].

    Third in this litany of exploitation unleashed by Kennedy’s death is Laos.  Newman, David Kaiser and others have recounted JFK’s adamant refusal to intervene unilaterally and his support for a coalition government there (this was an even more visibly pressing issue than Cuba in the first months of 1961). The CIA and military consistently undermined this position, particularly through Air America, the CIA’s covert air force. They destabilized the Laotian economy with forged currency and forced the Pathet Lao into retaliatory action, which turned into a civil war responsible for untold decimation.  The economic fruit of all this was an immensely profitable heroin trade [375-377].  One could further include here LBJ’s analogous handling of situations in the Dominican Republic, Brazil, Iran, and Greece.

    This general pattern of reversal is striking enough. But frequently the players involved have a recurring familiarity that is hard to dismiss as coincidental.  For instance, John McCloy is the man who David Rockefeller and the CIA sent in to fix the Brazil situation after Kennedy’s death. Then there is LBJ’s campaign support from Augustus Long and Jock Whitney of Freeport Sulphur, a company with links to Shaw’s International Trade Mart, and which ended up making billions from Indonesian concessions. (Long established a group called the National Independent Committee for Johnson, which included the likes of Robert Lehman of Lehman Brothers and Thomas Cabot, Michael Paine’s cousin.)  But of course, proof of conspiracy does not (and cannot) rest merely at this speculative level.  And while all of this provides a credible background against which to delineate what occurred in Dallas, DiEugenio never claims it as more than that.  From the weight of the evidence, the true catalyst for the assassination still must be considered to be the powder keg of Cuban affairs.

    Which also fits into the foregoing template. The book’s chapters on Cuba are unparalleled in the field.  From their mini-history of Cuba before the revolution, what fairly jumps off the page is the reduction of the island to financial slavery by American corporate interests and Wall Street banking.  This was made possible thanks to Batista’s lifting of taxes, a tremendous negative trade-balance (two thirds of Cuba’s needs were provided by American imports), and a spiraling indebtedness through short-term loans.  We learn that by 1959, American investment in Cuba was greater than in any other Latin American country save oil-rich Venezuela [7-10].  When Castro sets out to rectify this through nationalization of agricultural and mining concerns (like the Moa Bay company), and turns to the Soviet Union in order not to bow to IMF strictures, Eisenhower and the CIA begin to organize against him, recruiting financiers, military leaders and other ex-members of the Batista regime in exile.   It is out of this miasma that the personnel of this drama begins to take shape: the DRE [Directorio Revolucionario Estudiantil], under the auspices of David Phillips; Guy Johnson arranging for Sergio Arcacha Smith’s escape; who joined with José Miro Cardona and Tony Varona into another group which Howard Hunt, authorized to form a Cuban government in exile by Tracy Barnes, augmented with Manuel Artime and turned into the FRD [Frente Revolucionario Democratico] and eventually CRC [Cuban Revolutionary Council] [14-16; 38-39].

    But even more essential is DiEugenio’s exposition of the Bay of Pigs subterfuge. Drawing on several newer books on this topic, along with recently released documents which more than hint at perfidy on the part of the CIA, he outlines how Jake Esterline’s Trinidad plan, originally conceived as a small-scale penetration by a group of guerrilla-trained exiles, morphed into a full-blown D-Day assault under Dick Bissell’s supervision.  It was this mutation, a development that Dulles and Bissell tried to obfuscate, which Kennedy in March 1961 nevertheless saw enough of to ask that it be scaled down.  Dulles clearly understood Kennedy’s reluctance to commit, and tried to use the “disposal problem” (what to do with all these exiles?) as leverage, further offering him entirely false assurances about popular support for an uprising and the ability of the brigade to regroup in the mountains should they get pinned down on the beaches, and all the while denying him vital intelligence and refusing to allow him to inspect the details of the plan.  JFK appears to have committed only because he was convinced of the essentially guerrilla nature of the action.  A new site, the Playa Giron, was in fact chosen because it seemed very unlikely that the landing would encounter resistance there.  Kennedy also added the requirement that any air strikes on the day of the invasion were to be conducted by the Cuban brigade after a beachhead had been secured – that is, from Cuban soil.  He even asked Bissell if the recommended preliminary surgical strikes against Castro’s T-33 fighters were absolutely necessary, and Bissell assured him they would be minimal.  But a CIA memo released in 2005 establishes that Bissell knew from November 1960 onwards that the entire plan was unworkable without the aid of the Pentagon.  That memo was never forwarded to the President’s desk  [34-37; 44-45].

    What happens next is a series of tactical foul-ups followed by efforts to nudge Kennedy into military intervention.  Not all of Castro’s T-33’s were taken out prior to the landing because Castro, who knew the invasion was coming, had dispersed them around the island.  The main forces were crippled by the sinking of two supply ships. The whole operation was very poorly planned, and Castro managed to regain two of the three landing sites by the third day.  At that point Deputy Director Charles Cabell tried to get Victor Marchetti to relay to Kennedy the false story of MiGs strafing the beaches (which Marchetti never delivered).  Kennedy had made clear from the outset his refusal to deploy U.S. military force, but the CIA gave orders anyway to fly bombing missions over Castro’s airfields, which did not occur only because of fog [41].

    Most decisive in its analysis of this episode is a fact which the book makes unequivocal – that Kennedy never withdrew air support, because the so-called D-Day strikes had never been authorized to begin with; they were not part of the revised plan.  McGeorge Bundy reiterated Kennedy’s restriction on them to Cabell the night before the landing, and the next day, he and Bissell tried to argue the point with Dean Rusk.  But when Rusk gave the CIA the chance to phone the White House and request such strikes the morning of the invasion, the CIA declined the invitation.  On the third day, Cabell and the CIA similarly refused to request a naval escort to resupply the brigade with ammunition.  In a conversation with Rusk and Adlai Stevenson the day of the invasion, Kennedy again said he had not approved any such strikes from Nicaragua [44, 46].

    After ordering the Taylor inquiry (during which the Joint Chiefs basically tried to hang all the blame on the CIA) and consulting with Robert Lovett, co-author of the Lovett-Bruce report, who laid bare the true nature of the CIA, convincing him to fire Dulles, along with Bissell and Cabell, it became obvious to Kennedy that he had been snookered. Today we may reasonably share his opinion that the operation was a planned failure aimed at backing him into a corner and coercing him into an all-out invasion.

    It is also patent that a Cuban-driven initiative to oust Castro was transformed into a CIA-controlled enterprise, one with callous disregard for the Cubans themselves, not only in the way they were knowingly turned into so much cannon fodder in a ploy to wrest the island back for American interests, but even in the way the political spectrum of the participants was managed by Hunt so as to exclude the left wing of the exile community, in particular Manolo Ray and JURE – a maneuver which Kennedy challenged by having Bissell explicitly instruct Hunt to include Ray in the CRC; Hunt nominally resigned his position just before the invasion in order to avoid having to deal with him [39-40].  Ray, in fact, was not in favor of the strike-force invasion.  But Hunt and his group had plans of their own.  First, there was the contingency to have the operational leaders imprisoned and the assault taken over by “renegade Cubans”, in case Washington called off further action [47-48]. And then, there was Operation 40, calling for the liquidation of the leftist contingent during the early stages of the takeover of the island [50-51].  After the debacle, this manipulation was given a new, and ultimately deadly, twist:  the incitement of hatred among the Cubans for the Cold War Establishment’s number-one stumbling block.

    And it is another achievement of the book that the author pinpoints how this was done,  because to my knowledge, no one else has.  It was first accomplished by an inflammatory cover story about the so-called cancelled air strikes, a tall tale concocted by Dulles and Hunt. This phony story was reported in Fortune through Dulles’ personal friend Charles Murphy.  The purpose was to take the heat off the CIA by setting the blame for the failure at Kennedy’s door.  Although it was a false story, it nevertheless stirred up hatred among the Cuban exile community for JFK’s supposed “betrayal”.  As CIA anger grew during Mongoose – which William Harvey probably was correct in viewing as the administration’s half-hearted bone tossed to the hard-liners and which was effectively ended by the Missile Crisis – Cuban groups like Alpha 66 were enlisted by the Agency into activities well outside of Mongoose’s purview.  This included raids on Russian ships in the Caribbean, faking an invasion of Cuba, and renewed plans to assassinate Castro.  All these were intended to defeat the no-invasion pledge and to disrupt JFK’s move toward rapprochement [64-66].  Meanwhile, Kennedy’s end-run around his advisors, the CIA and the Pentagon, which he had found necessary in negotiating with Khrushchev, was repeated with Castro. During 1963 there was a sequence of back-channel communications involving journalist Lisa Howard, William Attwood (U.N. aide and former ambassador to Guinea), Cuban ambassador to the U.N. Carlos Lechuga, and French journalist Jean Daniel, with a view to initiating talks on the normalization of Cuban-American relations.  I will not repeat here the full story (or the revealing statement Kennedy made to Daniel about U.S. complicity in Cuba’s enslavement under Batista), but simply stress that the exiles could have gotten wind of this only through their CIA managers, who, despite their having been locked out by Kennedy, had access to the NSA’s wiretaps.  (It is also possible that McGeorge Bundy, who was in on some of these discussions, communicated them to his CIA contacts – he was a friend of Dulles.  Helms also monitored progress in this area, as Douglass has shown.)  Not only did David Morales’s counterintelligence group know of it [71]; as referred to previously, Rolando Otero revealed to Fonzi that he knew of the back channel through Bernardo DeTorres, declaring that at that point, “something big was being planned”.  That this “dangerous knowledge” was held by the anti-Castro Cubans is confirmed by Fabian Escalante’s report of Felipe Vidal Santiago’s statement that the exiles, realizing their cause was doomed, began to hatch a plot to get rid of Kennedy and blame it on Castro.  Vidal spoke with his CIA handler, Col. William Bishop.  Shortly thereafter, a CIA official – very likely David Phillips – addressed a group of exiles in a Miami safe house, saying, “You must eliminate Kennedy” [393].  What is further remarkable about how the evidence for this angle fits together – and once again how symmetrically designed the book is – is revealed earlier [97]:  working independently, Richard Case Nagell also discovered that the Cubans knew of the back channel and that “something big” was in the works.  Attwood’s own fears that news would leak down, through the CIA, to the Cubans, and with dire consequences, appear not to be unjustified.

    III. Many Mansions:  Garrison’s evidence today

    Whatever one may believe about Garrison, it is difficult today to argue that his investigation was marginal.  The early leads he uncovered were all connected with Oswald or Ruby, and demonstrated foreknowledge of, or involvement in, the plot, or at least a concern over Oswald’s arrest.  The sheer number of New Orleans-related incidents is impressive: Rose Cheramie’s story, the Clinton-Jackson incident, 544 Camp Street, Banister thrashing Jack Martin, Clay Bertrand requesting legal assistance for Oswald from Dean Andrews, Ferrie frantically searching for his library card and photos from the Civil Air Patrol, and so forth.  And all of these facts were already known at the time of the first official inquiry, but were “concealed, discounted, or tampered with by the authorities.  And the Warren Commission did nothing with them.  Therefore, they laid dormant for four years,” writes DiEugenio [100].

    A full account of the evidence adduced in Destiny Betrayed cannot possibly be given here.  To do so would mean replicating it nearly page by page, for there is very little fat to trim away.  Moreover, the broad outlines of the conspiracy in New Orleans and Dallas involving the setup of Oswald as patsy is without a doubt already familiar to the present reader.  I think it therefore most useful to pass under review a number of the pieces in the puzzle whose position has been clarified since the DA’s time.  That is, after all, one of the main goals of the book under discussion.  What follows is a short list of fifteen of the more salient points.

    1. In 1993, a photo of Oswald and David Ferrie from the Civil Air Patrol was shown on Frontline.  Let me remind the reader that every newspaper editorial I can recall from 1991-1992 lambasted Oliver Stone’s film by spouting that no such evidence of their acquaintance existed [see DiEugenio’s mini-biography of Ferrie, 82-85].

    2. One of Garrison’s most important findings was Oswald’s presence at Banister’s office at 544 Camp/531 Lafayette Street. Since Garrison, others such as Weisberg, Summers and Weberman have contributed to our knowledge of this node in the conspiracy, but no one tells it with the command DiEugenio has over this material, bringing to it his own field work, enhanced by released HSCA documents and files of the DA’s office (see in particular Chapter 6).  I mention just two points of interest here.  First, he confirms Tommy Baumler’s assertions that Shaw, Guy Johnson, and Banister constituted the intelligence apparatus in New Orleans [209-210; 274-275].  Second, he amplifies Sergio Arcacha Smith’s importance beyond his role in the Rose Cheramie – Jack Ruby drug run.  As Francis Fruge stated to Bob Buras, Smith seems to have been the linchpin between New Orleans and Dallas; maps of the Dealey Plaza sewer system were actually found in his apartment [180-182; 329].

    3. Davy’s and DiEugenio’s legwork has also reinforced Fruge’s and Dischler’s original discoveries about Shaw, Ferrie and Oswald in Clinton-Jackson.  The author cites a large array of witnesses which leave no doubt that Shaw (and not Banister) was there as Oswald stood in line to register to vote.  A sustained discussion of this incident sheds further light on its purpose: to get Oswald a job at the East Louisiana State Hospital (the same psychiatric hospital that Cheramie was later taken to), then switch the records to make it appear he was actually a ward.  Oswald’s familiarity with the names of the doctors may have come through the acquaintance of Tulane Medical School’s chief of surgery, Alton Ochsner, who did LSD and electrode implantation research and was an INCA informant, with both Shaw and Banister; or it could have been through Arcacha Smith [88-93; 156-157; 185-187].

    4. The Oswald chapters make good use of the seminal background research of John Newman and John Armstrong.  I extract here only two nuggets from this very rich vein, having to do with his role as false defector:

      After being given the runaround by CIA and military intel, State Department security analyst Otto Otepka sent Bissell a request for information distinguishing false from real defectors; this got funneled through Jim Angleton to staffers who were told to stay away from certain names; Oswald’s was marked SECRET.  Shortly thereafter, but thirteen months after his defection, the CIA created a 201 file on him.  Had Otepka not inquired, all of Oswald’s files would likely have stayed hidden in the Counter Intelligence/SIG sector under Angleton’s eyes.  Otepka’s safe was later drilled and his career destroyed; he was removed from his post on November 5, 1963 [164-165; see also 143-144].

      Donald Deneselya’s recollection of a CIA debriefing of Oswald in New York was reported on Frontline in 1993, but Helm’s disingenuous denials were there given the last word.  John Newman then found a CIA memo wherein the chief of the Soviet Russia division wrote of such a debriefing as motivated by an “operational interest in the Harvey [Oswald] Story” [149-150].

    5. DiEugenio also casts further light on Oswald’s activities as agent provocateur in New Orleans.    Again, I offer only two of his more telling conclusions:

      From the earliest critiques of the Warren Report (see, for instance, Meagher, Accessories after the Fact), but especially after Harold Weisberg obtained through the FOIA a transcript of the closed-door Warren Commission session discussing Oswald’s potential role as intelligence agent, the claim he was an FBI informant has repeatedly surfaced.  DiEugenio builds a strong case for Warren DeBrueys as Oswald’s FBI handler in New Orleans.  The FBI destroyed the files on Orestes Pena, witness to one of their meetings, just prior to the creation of the HSCA.  It was DeBrueys that Oswald asked to see after his arrest following the leafleting incident. William Walter found an informant file on Oswald with DeBrueys’ name on it.  DeBrueys most certainly knew of Oswald’s association with Banister before the assassination.  FBI agent James Hosty later told Church Committee witness Carver Gayton that Oswald indeed was an informant [109; 158-160].

      The other side of the coin to the FBI’s interest in Oswald is suggested by Hosty’s probable prevarication that he learned Oswald left Dallas for New Orleans in mid-May; Newman has shown there are at least seven instances during this period when the FBI should have known where he was and also about his dealings with the FPCC.  The reason for this sleight-of-hand was that the FBI, which had its own anti-FPCC program, was probably told not to interfere with a parallel CIA-run operation in which Oswald appeared to be a key player.  The existence of such a CIA discreditation program, run by David Phillips and James McCord, was revealed by the ARRB.  This explains why the CIA ordered 45 copies of the first printing of Corliss Lamont’s pamphlet, “The Crime Against Cuba,” in June of 1961; it was either Banister who then requested these from CIA, or someone, perhaps Phillips again, provided them as part of the program he was running with McCord [158-162; also 347-348, 356].

    6. In connection with this CIA-directed anti-FPCC charade, there is evidence that Oswald’s Marine acquaintance, Kerry Thornley – the only one to finger him as a “true believer” –, frequented Oswald and Marina in New Orleans and partnered with him in the leafleting activity.  DiEugenio gives a detailed portrait of this dubious fellow, from his two books about Oswald through his right-wing and intelligence connections, his retraction on the eve of the HSCA investigation of earlier denials made to Garrison concerning his knowledge of Banister, Ferrie, Shaw and the latter’s friend at Time-Life, David Chandler, and his subsequent diversionary yarns about his unwitting involvement in the plot.  Weisberg (Never Again, 1995) tells how the Secret Service was blocked by the FBI from discovering Oswald had an accomplice in New Orleans, and tracked down witnesses identifying Thornley as this person.  Then there is also Thornley’s own curious trip to Mexico City in July/August, just ahead of Oswald’s putative visit there [132; 187-193].

    7. Philip Melanson followed the trail of the ties between the CIA and the White Russian community in Dallas, and more specifically between Dulles and George DeMohrenschildt, who was cleared to meet Oswald through J. Walton Moore, the head of the Dallas CIA office.  Supplementing this discussion with additional information Garrison did not have – drawn in particular from the work of Carol Hewitt, Steve Jones and Barbara LaMonica – DiEugenio makes evident not only the more than casual acquaintance between the DeMohrenschildts and the Paines, but also the numerous links of both Michael’s and Ruth’s families to the CIA and Dulles.  Again, this is a real achievement, since this fascinating information has not appeared in any previous book. Michael’s mother, Ruth Forbes, was close friends with Mary Bancroft, an OSS agent with whom Dulles had intimate professional and personal ties. Michael’s stepfather was one of the creators of Bell Helicopter, while his mother’s family descended from the Boston Forbes and Cabots, executives and board members of United Fruit and Gibraltar Steamship (a CIA front for David Phillips’s Radio Swan).  Ruth Paine’s father and her brother-in-law both worked for AID, another CIA front, and her sister Sylvia Hyde was employed at Langley prior to 1963 as a psychologist.  Both Michael and Ruth were themselves involved in undercover work.  One document released by the ARRB reveals that Michael Paine engaged in infiltration activities at SMU in Dallas similar to those of Oswald; the Warren Commission was aware of filing cabinets found at the Paine residence containing data on pro-Castro sympathizers, which they downplayed in the “Speculations and Rumors” part of the report [193-200].

    8. A “coincidence of cosmic proportions,” as DiEugenio phrases it, is the link revealed by declassified ARRB documents between Robert Maheu, who ran a cover company in D.C. for the recruitment of assassins to kill Castro, and Guy Banister, via Carmine Bellino.  Bellino, who shared offices with Maheu, also partnered with Banister and helped him get started in New Orleans.  Walter Sheridan brought Bellino onto the RFK “get Hoffa” squad.  “It seems a bit ironic that a trusted aide of Robert Kennedy had been the partner of the man who helped set up the fall guy in the murder of his brother,” writes DiEugenio [257-258].

    9. A declassified memo from 1964, written by Leon Hubert and Burt Griffin, stated that “underworld figures, anti-Castro Cubans and extreme right-wing” elements were the most promising leads with respect to a Dallas-based gun-smuggling ring. The memo also suggests that Oswald’s Cuban connections in Dallas were never explored.  Garrison himself was interested in Manuel Rodriguez Orcarberro, the head of the Dallas wing of Alpha 66.  We now know, through Buddy Walthers’ informants, that a group of Cubans met at a safe house at 3128 Harlendale for months up until about a week before the assassination, when they vacated it; Oswald was also seen there [213].

    10. Another declassified HSCA document, a 1977 memo from Garrison to L.J. Delsa and Bob Buras, recounts the story of Clara Gay, a client of Attorney G. Wray Gill whose office David Ferrie shared.  She happened to call Gill right after Ferrie was interviewed by Garrison and the FBI and overheard the secretary deny Gill’s knowledge of Ferrie’s activities. Clara then went to the office, and noticed on Ferrie’s desk a diagram of Dealey Plaza with “Elm Street” on it, which she unsuccessfully tried to snatch in order to turn over to the FBI.  What she recounted to Garrison can be put together with Jimmy Johnson’s claim to have seen a manila envelope, which Ferrie referred to as “The Bomb”, containing a diagram for a Castro assassination, and with the fact that Ferrie had studied the ejection angles of cartridges from various types of rifles.  This suggests that the New Orleans group may have been involved in some of the actual planning of the crossfire, not just Oswald’s framing [215-216].

    11. DiEugenio calls the “most ignored piece of key evidence” a package addressed to Oswald, but bearing a sticker with a non-existent address, which lay around the dead letter section of the Dallas post office unnoticed for twelve days (discussed in Meagher, 63-64).  Surprisingly, the FBI did not apply solvents to the label in order to expose the probable original address beneath.  Inside was a sheet of brown wrapping paper resembling the one recovered at the Book Depository, inside which Oswald supposedly smuggled the rifle into the building.  There were absolutely no latent fingerprints on it.  What is of further interest is the fact that the police found a postage-due notice at the Irving post office for a package sent on November 20 to a Lee Oswald at the Paine’s address, 2515 W. Fifth Street.  Ruth tried to claim this was for magazines; this form is curiously attached to a postage due notice for George A. Bouhe, supposedly one of Marina’s English tutors, and neighbor of Jack Ruby.  DiEugenio surmises that when an attempt to get Oswald’s fingerprints on an incriminating piece of evidence by having him open the package when he went to Irving the evening preceding the assassination failed because of postage due, the non-existent address was applied so as to route the package into oblivion [205-207].

    12. I have already referred to Bernardo DeTorres, who was the first of the Garrison infiltrators. Garrison sent DeTorres to Miami on what turned out to be a fruitless investigation.  Fonzi, Ed Lopez and Al Gonzalez all suspected him of being a conspirator.  He is particularly noteworthy in that he was cross-posted between CIA and military intelligence, and for his link to Mitch Werbell, the arms expert some think designed the weapons used in Dealey Plaza. DeTorres also admitted to having been enlisted [sic!] by the Secret Service to guard Kennedy on his November 1963 Miami trip.  He claimed to an informant of the HSCA that he possessed pictures taken during the assassination [226-228].  I myself wonder if DeTorres was the one who originally leaked news of Garrison’s investigation to reporter Jack Dempsey.  I also wonder, given DeTorres’s coziness with Trafficante, whether the latter’s famous statement that Kennedy would be hit came from the same source.

    13. We now come to one of the “smoking guns” in this case, Mexico City.  Two extremely important documents were declassified by the ARRB in this area: the Slawson-Coleman report and the Lopez-Hardway report. The former shows how the Warren Commission’s investigators obligingly permitted themselves to be guided by the CIA; the explosive content of the latter (which is over 300 pages long) proves why it was censored for fifteen years. (An annex, entitled “Was Oswald an Agent of the CIA?,” has yet to be released.)  A number of authors have more or less successfully navigated this material (John Newman and James Douglass are exemplary), but I recommend Chapter 15 of Destiny Betrayed for the well-lit path it cuts through a murky bit of business.  The long and short of it is that it is doubtful Oswald was even there; but if he was, the appearances at the Cuban Consulate and Russian Embassy were very likely by impostors.  There are, remarkably, no photos of him, despite routine daily takes from CIA surveillance cameras, and the man who spoke with Sylvia Duran does not fit Oswald’s physical description; moreover, this person was reportedly fluent in Spanish, which there is no evidence Oswald knew, but apparently struggled with Russian, of which Oswald had a good command.  But the truly explosive part of the story is what John Newman revealed in his book Oswald and the CIA, and what DiEugenio refers to as “the dog that didn’t bark”. Thanks to the bifurcation of Oswald’s CIA files, the information concerning Oswald’s supposed meeting with Valery Kostikov (in his capacity as head of KGB assassinations) was kept out of his operational dossier, so that the connection between the two would not be made until the very day of the assassination.  Oswald’s undisturbed return to Dallas was further guaranteed by the fact that the FBI’s FLASH warning on him was cancelled on October 9, just hours before the cable from the Mexico City station concerning his visit arrived in Washington.  The story the CIA gave to the FBI about an anti-FPCC campaign in foreign countries may account for this [346-354].  It is not hard to discern here the earmarks of entrapment, which explains Hoover’s immediate cover-up of the FBI’s prior knowledge of Oswald’s activities.5

    14. The post-assassination epilogue to the Mexico City episode is equally scorching in its implications.  It is a cautionary tale that snafus can happen to the most diabolical schemes.  Since a phone call made by Duran to the Russian Embassy did not clearly mention Oswald’s name, a fake call had to be made.  Using a tape of this call was risky, because Oswald had been exposed on the media that summer in New Orleans.  For some reason, Anne Goodpasture, Phillips’s trusted associate at the Mexico City station, sent the tape to FBI agent Eldon Rudd on the evening of the 22nd.  After Hoover was told that the voice on it was not Oswald’s, Goodpasture and Rudd invented a cover story that the tape actually had been routinely erased, a story belied by other sources, and even by the person whom Helms replaced with Angleton as liaison to the Commission, John Whitten.  Luckily, LBJ either did not draw the obvious conclusions from Hoover’s revelations, or decided not to act on them, but instead played along by using this phony evidence of a foreign plot to keep the lid on the investigation.  What was later revealed was that Mexico City station chief Winston Scott had copies of this material, including the tape, in his safe, which Angleton flew down personally to recover when Scott passed away.  All of this newer information serves to endorse Garrison’s opinions as expressed by a memo discovered by DiEugenio. In that memo Garrison wrote that he: 1) Doubts the existence of any photo of Oswald, because it would have certainly appeared in the Report; 2) Asks why consulate employees did not recognize photos of the real Oswald; 3) Notices that Duran’s name is printed in Oswald’s notebook; 4) Wonders why there is no bus manifest for Oswald’s trip; 5) Notes there are no fingerprints on Oswald’s tourist card.  As DiEugenio asserts, Garrison was the only investigator at that stage to recognize the proof of the plot in this Mexican episode [357-364].

    15. The last set of observations has to do with Clay Shaw.  First, Ramsey Clark’s 1967 slip-up to the press about the FBI investigating Shaw in 1963 was based in fact. For the FBI had indeed run a check on Shaw then; it is uncertain whether they ever communicated this to the Commission [388].  Next, and as previously stated, Gaeton Fonzi rediscovered the connection, first uncovered by Garrison, between Shaw, Ferrie and Banister through Freeport Sulphur, Moa Bay and Nicaro Nickel.  Freeport tried to arrange the transport of nickel to Canada from Cuba, with the ore refined in Louisiana. Shaw was on the exploratory team.  When Castro threatened takeover of these concerns, an assassination plot was proposed inside Freeport’s ranks.  Fonzi found that the executive board of Freeport included Godfrey Rockefeller, Admiral Arleigh Burke and the chairman of Texaco, Augustus Long.  Donald Gibson has noted that four of the directors of Freeport were also on the Council on Foreign Relations – as much representation as DuPont and Exxon.  Shaw was not just part of this group, but also of a wider net of globalist concerns such as the International House and the Foreign Policy Association of New Orleans [208-209; 330; 383-384].   On the other side of these corporate connections lay Shaw’s long-time links to CIA.  William Davy discovered from a declassified CIA note that one of the files on him had been destroyed.  In 1994 Peter Vea also uncovered a document in the National Archives dating from 1967 (during the period Garrison was investigating him) giving Shaw covert security approval in the project QKENCHANT.  Victor Marchetti clarified that routine domestic contact service does not require this kind of clearance.  He speculated Shaw was involved in the Domestic Operations Division, one of the most secret subsectors of Clandestine Services, which once had been run by Tracy Barnes, and which Howard Hunt was working for at that time.  We also now possess further confirmation of Shaw’s involvement with Permindex, which had ties to the Schroeder Banking Corporation and thereby with Heinrich Himmler’s onetime network, and which supported the French renegade military outfit, the OAS.  We also know from the declassification process that Shaw’s lawyers had nearly unlimited cooperation from the FBI, the CIA and the Justice Department, and that one of the reasons for their repeated delay tactics was to allow this covert assistance to do its job [383-391].

    It is enlightening to watch as Garrison’s discoveries, transposed through this newer information, are accorded even more strength. It shows how good his and his main investigators’ instincts were, despite the infiltration of his team by CIA plants who tried to lead them astray.


    History may not repeat itself, but often it rhymes. 

    – Mark Twain (attr.)

    It’s Garrison all over again.    

    – Chris Sharrett, HSCA staffer 


    IV. The Rhyme of Two Investigations

    Thanks to declassification, we can now assert with confidence that mass media and government agencies collaborated in a concerted program to sabotage Garrison’s investigation and to damage his reputation so that he would forever after be politically crippled.  We also know that something quite similar occurred when the House Select Committee’s staff started heading down the same path under Dick Sprague’s and Bob Tanenbaum’s able and determined leadership.

    Before addressing this topic, I would like to advert the reader to the chapter presenting Garrison’s biography and early career (Chapter 9).  It is a welcome antidote to the received wisdom about him, which was a product of the lurid portrait painted by the mainstream press.6  I will not deal with that except to state that anyone who reads this material can no longer rationally believe, if they ever did, that Garrison was motivated by pecuniary gain or careerism, or that he was a tool of the Carlos Marcello syndicate with whom he allegedly was in cahoots.  Not always a crusader, and moderate in his political views, Garrison’s consciousness was profoundly altered by the JFK case.

    Garrison made a number of regrettable and costly tactical errors. Not arresting Ferrie earlier had the most conspicuously disastrous consequences.  When the press initially got wind of the investigation, the DA’s reaction was not one of equanimity; he first denied everything, then after no longer being able to deny it, parried the attacks with a bluster about having solved the case which today we may forgive him for but which unfortunately allowed him to play right into the press’s hands [220-224; 260-261].  He was also too trusting when it came to accepting the help of volunteers, which enabled the infiltration of his office.  In terms of the trial itself, his major blunder was not to use all his witnesses.  The number of these who averred that Bertrand was Shaw, for instance, is considerable (see DiEugenio’s review of the DA’s files [290-291]).

    By and large, however, Garrison was undone by forces beyond his control.  Once again, to retrace this story in detail would amount to reproducing the book, so we will concentrate on the larger picture.  But it must be stated here that no one has elucidated this program as clearly or in as much detail previously.  On the basis of interviews and declassified documents, DiEugenio argues that there was a three-stage program to destroy Garrison and his case against Shaw.  First, there were the “singleton” penetrations of his office.  Second, there was a media blitz orchestrated by Walter Sheridan and his intelligence and journalistic assets, such as James Phelan and Hugh Aynesworth, leading up to the NBC special aired on June 19, 1967.  Finally, when Garrison fought back, Angleton and Helms got directly involved [229].

    From CIA documents, the HSCA found that there had been, at one time or another, nine undercover agents in the DA’s office [229].  The first of these, as we already mentioned, was Bernardo DeTorres.  The second was William Gurvich, a local private investigator who offered Garrison his services in late 1966.  Gurvich’s polygraph expert tried to intimidate prosecution witness Perry Russo.  Garrison discovered after several months that Gurvich had been working with Sheridan, and when Gurvich formally defected from the DA’s ranks in June of 1967, he took a copy of Garrison’s master file with him. He later went to work for Shaw’s lawyers. Gurvich may have been recruited by Sheridan,  but the third mole, Gordon Novel, was deliberately put there by Allen Dulles.  Novel was a CIA explosives and electronics expert who had been involved in the Bay of Pigs.  By 1959 he had come to know Ferrie, Shaw and Dean Andrews, and in 1966 he met Dulles.  Once Garrison hired him, Novel started to convene with Sheridan. Novel had direct knowledge of all the principals of Garrison’s case, and Shaw had a phone number of Novel’s in Reno which very few people knew.  When Garrison subpoenaed Novel to testify before the March 16, 1967 grand jury, he fled New Orleans to a safe house in Ohio.  It was at that point that Dulles and Langley inserted Gordon into a network of CIA-friendly journalists, and Sheridan arranged for a phony polygraph test for him to bolster his credibility. On the basis of the latter, Sheridan then launched a propaganda barrage in the major media, furnishing governors and judges justification for ignoring extradition requests and not serving subpoenas originating from the New Orleans DA’s office [230-235].  Sheridan also sent Gurvich to RFK to try to influence his opinion of Garrison. As DiEugenio remarks, what is astonishing is the fact that these three infiltrations began nearly six months before Garrison even accused the CIA of complicity in the assassination [233].

    In terms of the second phase, its impresario, Walter Sheridan, can no longer be taken, as he commonly has been, to be a Kennedy loyalist acting with the sanction of the former Attorney General.  DiEugenio elucidates his true affiliations.  While  at the super-secret NSA, he worked out of the Office of Security, and later as Assistant Chief of the Clearance Division. That  position is roughly analogous to Angleton’s at CIA, and as DiEugenio shows, it is hard to believe they did not know each other.  When he was with the Hoffa squad, the agency they outsourced work to was, according to a Senate investigator, owned by the CIA [256-257].  We have already mentioned his link to Maheu through Carmine Bellino.  From another set of declassified documents we know that Sheridan, through his lawyer Herbert Miller, was in contact with Langley concerning the arrangement of a trip to Washington for Al Beauboeuf, one of Ferrie’s companions on the Houston-Galveston trip the weekend of the assassination. Sheridan’s probable association with Angleton explains his willingness to incorporate the CIA’s perspective into the NBC show he was producing in 1967 [237-238].  Needless to say, NBC, Sheridan’s employer, and its parent company, RCA, had longtime associations through Robert and David Sarnoff with the ONI, the NSA, and the Rockefeller Brothers Fund on foreign policy [255-256].

    Sheridan’s strategy was fourfold:  (1) to “flip” key witnesses; (2) to accuse Garrison of unethical practices; (3) to use allies of Shaw and the CIA to give a very slanted view of the prosecution’s case; (4) to engineer the presentation to look as though Garrison, not Shaw, were on trial.  An affidavit released by the ARRB shows how far he was willing to go in suborning testimony.  Fred Leemans, the final interviewee on Sheridan’s program, signed this sworn statement denying the accusations of bribery he made on the program [240-241].

    Sheridan’s allies in the press also had intelligence ties.  DiEugenio devotes separate sections to both Jim Phelan [243-249] and Hugh Aynesworth [249-255].  He demonstrates their complicity in the cover-up at length, relying in both cases, once again, on recently released documents.  Again, the section on Phelan is a landmark contribution. No one has ever taken this ersatz journalist apart like this before. Phelan’s denials of having communicated with the FBI are clearly disproven by this new information.  The lies he spread concerning Russo’s being drugged, or of Russo’s having retracted his statements to Sciambra – these and other deceptions are now exposed as knowing misrepresentations.  In fact, Phelan also confessed to having tried to convince Russo that he had mistaken Banister for Shaw [309].  Aynesworth’s connections to the CIA have also come out.  We now know that he had an ongoing relationship with J. Walton Moore of the Dallas CIA office, and had applied for a job with the Agency. Another FOIA document obtained by Gary Mack shows Aynesworth informing Hoover and President Johnson of Garrison’s intent to indict the FBI and CIA.  Aynesworth, primed by Gurvich, impeded Garrison’s attempt to interview Sergio Arcacha Smith by suggesting to the Cuban exile that he request the presence of police, along with assistant district attorney Bill Alexander, for an interview with Garrison’s assistant Jim Alcock.  Aynesworth was also in contact with Shaw’s lawyer, Ed Wegmann, through 1971, writing intelligence briefs on Garrison’s witnesses for him.

    The most important revelations to come from declassification, however, have to do with the third stage.  J. Edgar Hoover, according to Gordon Novel, had a counterintelligence operation going on.  He had Garrison’s office under surveillance.  Some of this illegal eavesdropping was certainly being relayed to Shaw’s legal staff via the Wackenhut investigative agency [262-265].  But it is with a September 1967 meeting of Shaw’s lawyers Ed Wegmann and Irvin Dymond with Nathaniel Kossack, an acquaintance of Sheridan’s in the Criminal Division of the Justice Department, that a direct appeal for help went out.  At this point, we see the formation of the “Garrison Group” at CIA, involving Ray Rocca of Angleton’s staff, plus six other high-level officers.  There is no official record of the subsequent meetings, which, according to Victor Marchetti, were moved behind closed doors. But Rocca’s database on Garrison, examined by Bill Simpich, is very extensive [269-271].  One sign of what was going on was the intensified propaganda campaign conducted from early 1968 onward, involving David Chandler, Sandy Smith, Richard Billings and Robert Blakey.  The idea was to smear Garrison by claiming he was tied to the Mafia and Marcello [274-277].  But even more damaging was the subversion of the legal process itself.  Not only were extradition requests (such as for Arcacha Smith) defeated, but subpoenas were thwarted at both ends – New Orleans and Washington – thanks to cooperative judges [271-273].  The documentation mentioned above regarding Sheridan’s collaboration with the CIA showed there was a panel of CIA-cleared lawyers already working in New Orleans, one that was used by Shaw’s lawyers to assign attorneys to Garrison suspects and witnessess, whom they managed to turn;  at this point a clandestine channel was set up directly between CIA and Shaw’s lawyers [277-278].  A final CIA-related penetration also occurred at this time in the figure of William Wood/Bill Boxley. Boxley was responsible for injecting all manner of disinformation into Garrison’s office, from his fingering of Nancy Perrin Rich’s husband as the grassy knoll assassin, to his wild goose chase involving Edgar Eugene Bradley, and his mediation of the Farewell America hoax, whose main sponsor Harold Weisberg discovered to be Philippe de Vosjoli, a double agent who worked for Angleton.  Aside from this waste of valuable time and resources, this low point in Garrison’s investigation is both sad and comically absurd [278-283].

    There were further interventions by federal authorities during the trial itself.  There seems to have been an orchestrated attempt to intimidate witnesses from testifying (for example, Richard Case Nagell and Clyde Johnson).  Another notable intervention involved sending Dr. Thornton Boswell down to clean up the mess created by Col. Finck’s unexpectedly truthful medical testimony.  Boswell had already compromised himself by signing a letter which made it look like the Clark Panel originated from a request he had made. When Boswell revealed his trip to New Orleans to Jeremy Gunn of the ARRB, Gunn memorably wondered:  What was the Justice Department’s jurisdiction in a case between the District Attorney and a resident of New Orleans? [299-305].

    Turning now to the early days of the HSCA: the information passed on to Deputy Counsel Robert Tanenbaum from the Church Committee through Senator Richard Schweiker immediately put them on the trail of CIA collusion.  Tanenbaum organized teams for both New Orleans (L. J. Delsa, Bob Buras, Jon Blackmer) and Miami (Gaeton Fonzi, Al Gonzalez). And their work started to pay off very early on.  What they uncovered were links to the next level of conspirators.  Fonzi identified the Maurice Bishop who was Antonio Veciana’s CIA contact and who Veciana saw with Oswald in Dallas as none other than David Phillips (see The Last Investigation). But, as we have seen, he also traced DeTorres to Werbell and reopened the leads to Freeport Sulphur.  After Fonzi, Delsa, Blackmer, Garrison and others conferred in the late summer of 1977, Blackmer reported: “We have reason to believe Shaw was heavily involved in the anti-Castro efforts in New Orleans in the 1960s and [was] possibly one of the high level planners or ‘cut out’ to the planners of the assassination” [328-332].

    Like Garrison, Sprague recognized he had made some errors of judgment, mostly with respect to how much Congress had his back after the retirement of Rep. Thomas Downing, who had authored the bill to form the House committee upon viewing the Zapruder film [326-327].  But it was no doubt the direction in which the investigation had started to go that brought down the walls around him.  In his book, Fonzi further clarifies that Sprague and Tanenbaum refused to sign any non-disclosure agreements with the Agency, since the CIA was a prime suspect.  From that point on, Sprague was subjected to the same kind of media barrage as Garrison was, even accusing the prosecutor, whose probity was on the same order as Garrison’s, of having mob associates [332-334].  The moment of transition from Sprague to Blakey is also marked by the intriguing death of George DeMohrenschildt.  The author does a fine job in sketching the possible explanations for it; but whether he was hounded by Edward Epstein and Willem Oltmans, or by his own sense of guilt, into taking his own life, or whether he was actually liquidated, the event signals the beginning of the end of the HSCA’s viability [334-338].

    DiEugenio characterizes the second Chief Counsel, Robert Blakey, as exhibiting a “protectiveness towards the CIA”:  he turned over evidence to them and even ignored Agency advice not to use them to clean their own house when their employee Regis Blahut was caught burglarizing the safe containing the autopsy photos.  Blakey, of course, immediately redirected all the committee’s energies into his pet Mafia-did-it theory, making sure that other kinds of leads were not followed, and eliminating or burying some of the evidence which was uncovered.  For instance, he used selective or unreliable testimony to separate Oswald from Banister and Ferrie, and then kept evidence to the contrary classified.  He also severely clamped down on the re-investigation of the Clinton-Jackson incident.  When the New Orleans team polygraphed, at their own expense, a witness supporting Garrison’s claims, Blakey decided to replace them with his own lackeys.  Blakey later admitted that the committee could not find any real underworld links to Oswald other than the extremely thin one through his uncle Dutz Murrett, who actually had gotten out of the bookmaking business in 1959.  One of Sprague’s staff attorneys, Ken Brooten, who resigned in 1977, wrote Harold Weisberg that the committee “had compromised itself to such an extent that their final product has already been discredited” [340-344].  But no matter: the ghosts of 544 Camp Street had successfully been evicted from the halls of the Capitol.


    Human history becomes more and more a race between education and catastrophe.

    – H. G. Wells

    The world’s history is the world’s judgment.

    – Friedrich von Schiller 


    V

    At the end of 1967, Garrison had the following working view of the plot:

    A group at the operational level — the Cuban exiles — with real reasons to want Kennedy dead. A group at the organizational level — the CIA — with resources and experience to plan and execute such an operation.  Both had access to the kind of marksmen necessary to pull off the lethal, military-style ambush in Dealey Plaza.  From this perspective, Oswald’s odd associations with people like DeMohrenschildt, the Paines, and Ferrie fit in.  So did the call from “Bertrand,” and Ruby’s final, culminating murder. [219] 

    In the final chapter of Destiny Betrayed, DiEugenio voices his contention that Garrison “was one step away from the next level of the conspiracy.  This was the real reason for their wanting to stop him” [395].  While in most cases DiEugenio only implicitly signals who the occupants of this level might be (certainly Angleton and Phillips were involved in Oswald’s setup, with very possibly Hunt and Helms monitoring the operational end), he does make one explicit claim:   

    One of the main tenets of this book is that Allen Dulles was one of the top-level active agents in both the conspiracy to kill Kennedy and the disgraceful official cover up of his death.  … Why Lyndon Johnson appointed Dulles to the Warren Commission remains a mystery that has never been satisfactorily solved.  As mentioned in the previous chapter, Johnson had a rather hidden relationship with the Rockefellers, especially Nelson.  As revealed by Donald Gibson in a groundbreaking essay, he was also badgered into creating the Commission by other Eastern Establishment stalwarts like Eugene Rostow, Joe Alsop, and Dean Acheson. [394]. 

    Whether this claim would hold up in a courtroom is of course a moot question; but it is this reviewer’s opinion that the weight of the evidence, circumstantial as it may be, falls on DiEugenio’s side. 

    Destiny Betrayed departs from recent trends in that it does not try to render a totalizing image of the assassination in one epic swoop of a thousand-plus pages, but instead keeps its sights trained on what can be in some manner related to Garrison’s findings.  For example, although DiEugenio does touch on problems presented by the forensic and medical evidence, this occupies only about a dozen pages out of the whole, and arises directly from his exposition of the Shaw trial.  And though what Garrison uncovered in that area was and still is quite extraordinary – namely, that the autopsy was directed by the military chain of command towards pre-established conclusions –, the precise relationship of these orders to those responsible for the operation on the ground is left provocatively suspended.  Similarly, while I believe Garrison had his own misgivings about the role of the Secret Service in Dallas, that aspect of the plot is not explored.  But again, I am sure this was done so as not to lose the focus of the book. 

    For that reason the book is also a tantalizing springboard for further discussion.  One such consideration crossed this writer’s mind while reading the material in the penultimate chapter concerning Johnson’s ramp-up to the Gulf of Tonkin.  As I was reminded of the centrality of the Bundy brothers in this process, my thoughts leapt to Air Force One, en route from Love Field to Andrews Air Force Base, and the famous communiqué from the White House Situation Room (which was under McGeorge Bundy’s control) that the assassination was the work of one person.  Now as DiEugenio notes at the end of his chapter on Mexico City, 

    When Lopez and Hardway digested all these false stories, they discovered that most of them came from assets of David Phillips.  So it would seem that the actual managers of the plot tried to stage an invasion of Cuba in order to head off Kennedy’s attempt at détente with Castro. With his fear of World War III, Johnson put the brakes to this.  In fact, through his aide Cliff Carter, it appears he got the local authorities not to charge Oswald as being part of a communist conspiracy because it could cause World War III. [362] 

    But this point of view may not have been unique to LBJ.  There may have been others who thought it wise to clamp down on the more dangerous element introduced by the players referred to above.  One faction of the plot may have wanted an invasion of Cuba or even an attack on Russia; but another faction, to which the Bundys may have belonged, may have wanted simply to remove JFK, knowing they would eventually get the Vietnam War.  The more radical gambit may thus have been squelched by the “cooler” heads.  I would further point out that both of these conjectured factions link again to Dulles:  Bundy on one side, Hunt on the other.7 

    Over the nearly half century that the assassination has been written about, it has become a commonplace in the literature critical of the official story to conclude with an appeal for truth.8  It is also common to speak of how some large percentage of Americans does not believe the Warren Report, and instead believes in conspiracy.  But what does that belief mean to them?  And what “truth” are we talking about?  The idea that a few underworld figures took care of a president who double-crossed them? That there was a power play, in the manner of some Merovingian palace murder, motivated by the unbridled ambition of a Vice President, as in a latter-day reprise of Macbeth?  The particular truth which books like this one (or Douglass’s) force the citizenry of this country to contemplate is a more difficult one to swallow.  Because it pierces through the mystifications of the high-school civics lesson and all the indoctrination which that entails.  And it does not rely on anecdotal evidence, or the ravings of a senile old man. 

    The author explicitly revisits this rhetorical commonplace when he speaks of how the question of truth (in the sense of the public’s belief) continues to plague our national psyche.  But in so doing he eschews the usual bromides about truth being the daughter of time.  Nor does he engage us with the facile rhetoric of exorcism, the easy promise that we can presently restore the body politic to mythic wholeness by simply casting out this demon.  The stance he adopts in the final pages of this work is more of chronicler than of political advocate.  In relating Garrison’s 1968 warning to Johnny Carson’s audience, he breaks the narrative frame with the urgency of the present tense (“… if they do not demand to know …”), then returns us, through the use of third-person indirect speech, into anticipatory sympathy with them via future-in-the-past (“the country as they knew it would not survive”), but finally ends squarely in the perfect tense which contains the entire moment (“Garrison said … Jim Garrison understood it in 1968”).  The insinuation being that the opportunity for deliverance might actually lie behind us.  For we did not listen to our Cassandra when we were told that indifference would be our nation’s demise.  No doubt, as with Cassandra, it was the powers that be who ensured that most would not take Garrison seriously.  But that is precisely the tragedy of history.

    At the end of his previously mentioned review of JFK and the Unspeakable, DiEugenio wrote that Jim Douglass’ book was the best in the field since Gerald McKnight’s.  The author’s own book has a dual distinction.  It is the best book on Garrison yet written, and it is the best work on the JFK case since the Douglass book.


    Endnotes

    [1] This assessment of course is not meant to diminish the seminal work done by other first-generation critics, most notably Mark Lane, Harold Weisberg, and Sylvia Meagher; Garrison’s contribution, which relied on their painstaking critical evaluation of the Warren Commission Exhibits and Hearings, was to open up new avenues actually capable of leading to a solution of the crime.

    [2] For further reflection on where Garrison was headed with his thinking, see the afterword by Robert Spiegelman to William Davy’s Let Justice Be Done: New Light on the Jim Garrison Investigation(Reston, VA: Jordan Publishing, 1999). It should be noted that one of the first-generation critics, Vincent Salandria, has from the outset been telling us much the same thing.

    [3] Henceforward, square brackets refer, unless otherwise noted, to page numbers in Destiny Betrayed, 2nd ed.

    [4] The titles of the first two chapters of Destiny Betrayed pay tribute to the first two in Mahoney, in reverse order.  The title of Chapter 17 similarly plays off of the titles of the last two chapters, again in reverse order, of JFK and the Unspeakable.

    [5] The proposal by other researchers that Oswald was on a “legitimate” mission in Mexico City which got waylaid by outsiders who knew how the internals of CIA surveillance worked seems rather flimsy from this standpoint. As for the CIA’s FPCC program, whatever it may have been in 1961, by 1963 it seems to have turned into a sham for the benefit of manipulating Oswald and keeping the FBI at bay. Douglass (66 and n. 67; 178-179) suggests that the FBI’s own efforts at discreditation by that time had been so successful that the CIA would have had little to target.

    [6] It is not the purpose of this review to compare this book with the work of Joan Mellen. I would refer the interested reader to DiEugenio’s own appraisals of Mellen’s two efforts, A Farewell to Justice, and Jim Garrison: His Life and Times.

    [7] Today, I would, however, note the following.  A year after writing this review/essay, I attended the AARC 2014 conference. When someone asked if McGeorge Bundy had prior knowledge of the assassination, John Newman said he didn’t think Bundy knew because there is language in NSAM 273 that looks like it was intended for Kennedy, attempting to convince him of a different course of action from NSAM 263.

    [8] Douglass, for instance, ends his book, quite movingly, with an allusion to John 8:32, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free” (perhaps also as a tacitly ironic acknowledgment of the fact that this very motto appears at the entrance of the CIA’s Langley headquarters, placed there by its founders with much the same cynicism, I dare say, as the “Arbeit Macht Frei” inscription gracing the entrance to Auschwitz I).

  • Noam Chomsky’s Sickness unto Death

    Noam Chomsky’s Sickness unto Death


    ChomskyNoam Chomsky’s attempt to obfuscate President Kennedy’s policy to withdraw from Vietnam turned out to be rather unsuccessful. If one recalls, at the time that Oliver Stone’s JFK was released, Chomsky wrote an article for Z Magazine and then published a book called Rethinking Camelot. Beneath all the excess verbiage, Chomsky was saying the following:

    1. That NSAM 263, issued in October 1963, did not actually mean what it said. Namely that Kennedy was planning on removing all American advisors from Vietnam.
    2. NSAM 273, signed by LBJ after Kennedy’s death, did not actually impact or alter NSAM 263.
    3. All the witnesses that John Newman, Fletcher Prouty and Peter Scott adduced to bolster the fact that Kennedy was withdrawing from Vietnam, these men were all either biased or wrong.
    4. Vice-President Johnson was not really all that bad of a guy. And there was no real break in Vietnam policy when he took over. After all, he and Kennedy were essentially the same man in the sphere of foreign policy.

    To put it mildy, Chomsky’s attempt to promulgate this line was not effective. Especially when the Assassination Records and Review Board unearthed even more documents supporting Kennedy’s plan. These were enough to influence even the mainstream media into writing news articles about Kennedy’s plan to withdraw from Vietnam. (Probe Vol. 5 No. 3 pgs. 19-21) These new documents were released by the ARRB on December 22, 1997. Within days, the New York Times headlined a story with, “Kennedy Had a Plan for Early Exit in Vietnam.” The Associated Press story read, “New Documents Hint that JFK Wanted U.S. out of Vietnam.” The Philadelphia Inquirer story was bannered, “Papers support theory that Kennedy had plans for a Vietnam pullout.”

    The work of the ARRB on the Vietnam issue also influenced academia. Scholars like Howard Jones, David Kaiser and Gordon Goldstein wrote a number of new books. Each of them ignored Chomsky and endorsed the Newman/Prouty/Scott view as expressed in the Stone film. This culminated in a milestone event. In 2005 a group of nearly 20 authorities on the subject met at St. Simons Island off the coast of Georgia. After two days of reviewing documents and debating the subject, a vote was taken. Half the attendees said Kennedy would not have escalated in Vietnam as Johnson did. (Virtual JFK, edited by James Blight, p. 210) This conference resulted in both a book and film, Virtual JFK, which argued that President Kennedy and Vice-President Johnson had different views on the war. Wisely, and pointedly, Chomsky was not invited to this conference.

    Soundly defeated on this issue, Chomsky did not retreat with his tail between his legs. Instead, he has now navigated to a different aspect of Kennedy’s foreign policy: Cuba.

    JFK

    President John F Kennedy in his office during a meeting with Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara and Vice-president Lyndon B Johnson, at the White House in Washington, DC, 1961.

    Photograph: Henry Burroughs/AP

    This year is the fiftieth anniversary of the Cuban Missile Crisis. Chomsky has chimed in with an article for The Guardian of London. (It can be read here). This article confirms what has been clear to many for a long time. Chomsky is not a historian. And when he gets anywhere near having to deal with the Kennedy assassination, or Kennedy’s presidency, his work is so bad as to be embarrassing. In that regard, he is really a polemicist. Polemicists, by definition, can’t write good or accurate history. And for anyone who did not understand that, this useless article proves it once more.

    Today, there have been at least three books published based upon the actual transcripts of the deliberations of the so-called ExComm. That is, the committee of Kennedy’s advisers assembled to discuss paths of action during the thirteen days that constituted the crisis. The first was The Kennedy Tapes by Ernest May and Philip Zelikow. The second, Averting ‘The Final Failure’ is by Kennedy archivist Sheldon Stern. The third is called The Presidential Recordings, edited by May, Zelikow and Tim Naftali.

    These books are absolutely essential to understanding who President Kennedy really was. Because in this instance, you actually do not have to rely upon memoirs, or memoranda written later. You actually have the words of the participants as spoken right in front of you. And for any objective person, these discussions show just how different Kennedy was from the vast majority of his advisors. This includes Vice-President Johnson, National Security Advisor McGeorge Bundy, and Secretary of State Dean Rusk. At one stage or another these three men all advocated armed intervention to resolve the crisis. And Johnson did not even like the ultimate resolution to the crisis: withdrawal of the American Jupiter missiles from Turkey in exchange for the Russian withdrawal of the missiles from Cuba. He talks about it as leaving the impression “that we’re having to retreat. We’re backing down.” (May and Zelikow, p. 586) Johnson said this even though the Polaris missiles–which were to later serve the same purpose as the Jupiters–were much more modern in both range and accuracy. And since they were submarine launched, they were more difficult to detect and preemptively target. Towards the end of the crisis, Johnson was actually using Kennedy’s nationally televised speech of October 22nd–in which he alerted the pubic to the danger of the Russian installed missiles–against him. The vice-president was saying that the public was going to be disappointed in Kennedy’s performance when compared to his words: “The president made a fine speech. What else have you done?” Even Johnson’s rather friendly biographer, Bob Caro, points out in The Passage of Power that, compared to JFK, during these discussions, Johnson was much more militant in tone and confrontational in approach.

    What does Chomsky say about this most important Kennedy/Johnson juxtaposition? Not a word. Which is about what he said in comparing the policies carried out by President Johnson in Vietnam after Kennedy was killed. In the game of poker, this is called a ‘tell’. Or as Peter Scott terms it, it’s a negative template. Chomsky won’t touch this evidence since it pretty much disintegrates his argument that there was no difference between Kennedy and Johnson in foreign policy.

    So Chomsky now devises another way to attempt to explain why Kennedy sounded so much more dovish during these debates than nearly anyone else in the room. He says that since Kennedy had ordered the installation of the taping system, he knew they were being recorded while the others did not. Again, Chomsky leaves out two important points here. The first is the reason Kennedy ordered the recording devices installed in the first place. As professor Ernest May has stated more than once–for example on ABC’s Nightline–he installed the system because he was upset about how many participants had misrepresented what they said during the discussions leading up to the Bay of Pigs invasion. With the taping system, there could be no argument about who said what and when. Secondly, these tapings were not made public for nearly four decades after Kennedy’s death. If there was some kind of plan to get them out sooner–and show how statesmanlike JFK was compared to everyone else–it was not very effective.

    But the point which Chomsky again avoids is this: Kennedy sounds dovish and level-headed here just as he did during the debates in November of 1961 over whether or not to send combat troops into Vietnam. (See the notes of military attaché Howard Burris dated 11/15/61 in the book Virtual JFK, pgs. 281-83) In other words, it is all of a piece, because it’s the same man. And the taping system is irrelevant to the issue. Why? Because it was not installed in 1961. In that instance, as he was during the Missile Crisis, Kennedy was virtually alone in holding out against the commitment of combat troops to Southeast Asia. And almost every commentator has noted this point, from David Kaiser to Gordon Goldstein. For his own personal, polemical reasons, Chomsky cannot.

    Another piece of flapdoodle that Chomsky tries to peddle here is the actual cause of the crisis. He says that the Russians moved the missiles onto the island in reaction to Operation Mongoose, the secret war against Cuba. To preserve this mythology, Chomsky ignores two pieces of evidence. First, the subterfuge Khrushchev practiced in transporting the weapons across the Atlantic, and second the size and scale of the deployment. Concerning the latter, the eventual arsenal was to consist of the following: 40 land based ballistic missile launchers and sixty missiles. The missiles were of both the medium (1,200 miles) and long–range variety (2,400 miles). These missiles were much more powerful than those used against Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The 9 missile sites were to be protected by 140 air-defense missile launchers. In addition there were to be 40 IL-28 bombers, each capable of carrying a nuclear weapon. This air arm would be supplemented by a submarine pen made up of 11 subs, 7 of them capable of launching nuclear missiles. In other words, the Russians could now threaten America with a nuclear missile arsenal capable of hitting the 100 largest American cities by land, sea and air.

    In addition to this, there was to be a Russian army of 45, 000 troops, with 250 tanks, supplemented by a wing of the latest Russian fighter aircraft, the MiG 21. There were also 80 nuclear-capable cruise missiles for coastal defense. Each of these had the explosive capability of the bombs dropped on Japan in 1945. (May and Zelikow, pgs. 676-77) And, as Kennedy later discovered through U2 photography, the Russians had even given the Cubans a number of Luna ground to ground rockets with a 30 mile range and 2 kiloton warheads. Because of their short range these were termed tactical nukes since they could be used in battlefield circumstances. (ibid, p. 475)

    With these facts on the table, here is my question to the former MIT professor: What use would these nuclear weapons be against a speedboat full of Cuban exiles with rifles, grenades and dynamite sent in to blow up a power plant? Would this not be equivalent to the antique analogy of using a cannon to kill a fly in your house? Why blow up your house trying to kill a fly? Could the Russians and Cubans be this stupid?

    Which relates to the subterfuge. What made Kennedy so suspicious about the deployment was the secrecy surrounding it. Multiplying that was the Russians lying about it. For instance, to choose just one instance, Russian Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko lied to Kennedy on October 17th by saying that this was only a defensive deployment. If the aim was simply to try and neutralize Mongoose, then all that was needed was the conventional forces. And Khrushchev would have won a great international propaganda victory by announcing a Cuban-Russian military alliance in public, for instance at the United Nations. He could have claimed the diplomatic high ground by saying that this was purely a defensive alliance to defend Cuba from external aggression. If the idea was to fend off a possible invasion then the tactical nukes would have done the trick. And again, an alliance made in public would have been sympathetic to most of the world.

    But he did not. There is no evidence he even contemplated such a public announcement. Why? Because the real motive behind the massive deployment was much wider in scope. It was a way for the Russians to close the missile gap. At the time, only twenty of the Soviet long-range missiles could hit the USA from Russian territory. With what was going into Cuba, the Russians now had a formidable first-strike effort stationed 90 miles away from Miami. And anyone who understands the nuclear terminology of that day will understand how important a credible first strike force was. Secondly, once the secret installation was complete, Khrushchev could then announce it and ask for the thorn in his side to be removed: namely West Berlin. (See Slate, “What the Cuban Missile Crisis Should Teach Us”, by Fred Kaplan. See also May and Zelikow, pgs. 678-79, 691)

    This had been something that had seriously bothered the Russians since the days of the Berlin Airlift of 1948-49. And, more recently, Khrushchev had hectored Kennedy about it at their summit meeting in Vienna in 1961. This would be a significant change in the political calculus of Europe. What Chomsky does by covering up these key facts is to falsely blame President Kennedy while excusing some very irresponsible and reckless gambling by Nikita Khrushchev.

    Chomsky continues in this jingoistic mode when he then names what he thinks should be called the most dangerous moments of the crisis. One of them is on October 27th, when the U. S. Navy, trying to enforce Kennedy’s blockade, had orders to make the Russian submarines surface before they violated the quarantine line. Each Russian submarine carried a nuclear tipped torpedo. American destroyers were to drop depth charges to make the subs surface. Naturally, Chomsky does not reveal the actual instructions given to the American destroyers. They first were to drop “four or five harmless explosive sound signals”, after which the subs should emerge and proceed due east. And, in fact, the State Department told European governments about this technique, including the Russians, in advance. (National Security Archive, Briefing Book No. 399) The problem was that the Russian subs were not getting much information from Moscow and never got this message. They were monitoring Miami stations instead, which of course were carrying much more militant messages. (New York Times, 10/22/12)

    The other moment that Chomsky details is the round the clock B 52 bombers holding their fail safe points in the sky in case of an attack. He states that one pilot, Don Clawson, revealed that there was little control over these flights from Strategic Air Command, and that a rogue pilot could have easily started nuclear war. Chomsky does not say that his source for this is an almost do it yourself book published nine years ago by Clawson himself. The book is a rollicking memoir written 40 years after the fact. In other words, there was no formal input from SAC HQ about what measures really were in place in case this occurred. And Chomsky did not crosscheck his source to see if there was. (This last is a recurrent polemical practice of Chomsky’s.)

    If anyone were to list the most dangerous moments of the crisis, they would have to include three events that need no cross checking. For they have been in the record for decades. The first would be the episode that caused the only fatality by enemy fire during the entire 13-day crisis. That would be the death of Rudolf Anderson. Anderson was America’s top U-2 pilot in 1962. The plane he was flying was clearly marked with Air Force insignia. Khrushchev had assured Kennedy that the Russians would only fire if fired upon. (May and Zelikow, p. 571) The U-2 was a surveillance plane. It was not furnished with missiles or machine guns, only cameras under its wings. And everyone knew that. But, apparently, the Cubans decided to use their Russian furnished surface to air missile sites (SAM’s) near Banes, Cuba to knock the plane down and kill Anderson.

    The information about Anderson’s death was turned over to President Kennedy during an ExComm meeting at 4 PM on October 27th, the day before the crisis ended. (ibid) It gave needed ballast to the hawks in attendance, e.g. General Maxwell Taylor and Assistant Secretary of Defense, Paul Nitze. (ibid, pgs. 571-73) It also seems to have been one of the reasons why Defense Secretary Robert McNamara became more militant during the last two days of the crisis. (The other factor influencing McNamara seems to be Johnson’s not very subtle war mongering.) Following the news of Anderson’s death, there were pleas by Taylor, Bundy and Nitze to immediately take out the SAM sites. (ibid, pgs. 571-72) McNamara moved to take out the Banes SAM site and begin a much larger air attack against the island on the 31st. (ibid, pgs. 571, 575) Kennedy dutifully listened to these proposed courses of action due to this provocation. He then skillfully bent the discussion around to formulating a reply to Khrushchev’s letter requesting a deal for the Jupiters. (ibid, p. 576) There ended up being no retaliation to this reckless shoot down of an unprotected surveillance pilot. (Which, one could argue, was really tantamount to murder.) In fact, there was actually a contingency plan in place which necessitated an agreed upon retaliation. Kennedy overruled that plan and held back the air strike. (ibid, p. 695)

    Another dangerous moment came when Castro actually wanted to launch nuclear missiles against the USA. (ibid, p. 688) In other words to strike first, therefore surely starting a chain reaction leading to nuclear Armageddon. Or as Fidel Castro put it none too subtly to the Russian representative, he was ready to launch against the USA and risk incinerating Cuba in a counter attack. Alexander Alekseev was shocked. But he dutifully relayed the message to Moscow. (The Armageddon Letters, edited by James Blight and Janet Lang, p. 116) At the conclusion of the crisis, Khrushchev chastised Castro for even proposing such an act under these circumstances. He characterized such a proposal to carry out a nuclear first strike against enemy territory as “very alarming”. He continued with: “Naturally you understand where that would lead us. It would not be a simple strike, but the start of thermonuclear world war.” (May and Zelikow, op cit.)) Apparently, since Castro was and is a Marxist, in Chomsky’s book, these kind of inexcusable acts are to be ignored. To dramatize the polemicist’s double standard: Imagine what Chomsky would say if President Kennedy was on record uttering such a thing. But not only does Chomsky not comment on this nutty request by Castro, he does something even worse. He does not tell the reader about it. That act of censorship tells you all you need to know about Chomsky’s fairness and honesty in this article.

    There was another nominee for most dangerous moment. And again, you will not find it in Chomsky’s article. During the crisis, CIA officer William Harvey—a man who despised the Kennedys—secretly dispatched several teams of Cuban exile paratroopers onto the island. (Larry Hancock, Nexus, p. 80) Harvey never fully revealed what the mission of these men actually was. But since he constantly assailed the Kennedys for not having the guts to get rid of Castro once and for all, one can imagine what he had in mind. Furthering this thesis was the fact that these men were on a secret radio frequency, so that when Bobby Kennedy found out about it, he could not recall them directly. (ibid, p. 70) RFK was enraged when he found out what Harvey had done. And this was the beginning of the end for Harvey’s storied CIA career. The reason Chomsky will not touch this incident is that it violates another aspect of his special and peculiar ideology. Namely, his belief that the CIA only performs functions requested by the president. Yet, under Kennedy, the CIA often enacted autonomous actions.. (And there are many examples in both Hancock’s book and Jim Douglass’ JFK and the Unspeakable.) But Chomsky cannot admit this, no matter how foolish it makes him look. Because it would indicate that, 1.) The CIA and President Kennedy had different aims, and 2.) The Agency did not just enact policy. At times, it made its own.

    Let us continue with just how bad the Marxist leadership was leading up to and during the crisis. On September 4th, after getting preliminary intelligence reports about construction on Cuba, Kennedy had specifically warned the Russians about using the island as a forward base in the Americas. And he told Russian ambassador Anatoly Dobrynin that he would not tolerate purely offensive weapons in Cuba. He then said the same in public. (Blight and Yang, pgs. 58-59) In his reply to Kennedy’s warning, Khrushchev again lied. He said the only nuclear missiles he had trained on the USA were based in Russia. (ibid, p. 62) In July of 1962, Castro asked him: What would happen if the USA discovered the installation in progress before it was completed? Khrushchev responded with a reply so ridiculous that it must have disheartened Fidel. The Russian premier said he would send out the Baltic fleet as a show of support. (May and Zelikow, p. 677) This silly response, from a man who held the fate of the world in his hands, showed that Khrushchev had not thought through all the possibilities the dangerous installation entailed. To top it all off, the premier tried to end game the worst scenario. That is the Americans launching a counterforce attack on the Cuban missiles. The premier felt that even if this was 90% effective, “even if one or two big ones were left—we could still hit New York, and there wouldn’t be much of New York left.” When Khrushchev was ousted from office in 1964, his irresponsible actions before and during the crisis were named as prime reasons for his removal. (May and Zelikow, p. 690) Again, none of this is deemed worth mentioning by Chomsky. Probably because in his world no Marxist can do anything wrong.

    Chomsky also tries to imply that the resolution to the crisis was done by the Russians alone. He mentions the arrival of Khrushchev’s letter of October 26th at the State Department. This letter outlined a deal that would entail the removal of the Russian missiles in return for a pledge by Kennedy not to invade Cuba. The Russians later added that they also wanted the Jupiter missiles removed. Kennedy agreed to both parts of the deal. But what Chomsky leaves out is that Kennedy himself proposed the Jupiter swap more than a week before. At an ExComm morning meeting of October 18th he specifically proposed a direct trade of the Jupiters in Turkey for the Russian missiles in Cuba. (May and Zelikow, p. 137) On October 23rd he authorized his brother Robert to create a back channel to Russian Ambassador Dobrynin through Russian representative Georgi Bolshakov. (ibid, pgs. 343-46) This culminated in a formalization of the Jupiter deal as an adjunct to the no-invasion pledge. Chomsky criticizes Kennedy for not announcing this at the time. He leaves out the fact that JFK anticipated that Castro would create problems with verifying the removal of all arms of the nuclear triad from Cuba. And therefore it would take awhile for the Russians to complete their part of the deal. He was correct about this. It took over a month to complete the negotiations for verification. (May and Zelikow, pgs. 664-66)

    Chomsky’s failings as a historian are nowhere more obvious then in his discussion of Cuban-American relations in 1962-63. For instance, he writes that a plot to assassinate Castro was apparently initiated on the day of Kennedy’s murder. Chomsky is referring to the so-called AM/LASH plot. This maneuvering of the CIA with disenchanted Cuban national Rolando Cubela was not initiated in November of 1963. It had been going on for many months. And it had nothing to do with the Kennedys. (James DiEugenio, Destiny Betrayed, Second Edition, p. 73) The CIA deliberately kept it secret from JFK since they knew he would not approve it. Chomsky cannot admit this, even though it’s true, because it again shows the CIA and Kennedy at cross-purposes. He follows this by saying Mongoose was terminated in 1965. Wrong again. Mongoose was ended on November 29, 1962 at an NSC meeting of that day. (See Volume XI of Foreign Relations of the United States, Document 217) Chomsky mentions an attack on Cuba of November 8th. What he does not say is this was a response to a devastating Cuban attack in Venezuela that “had reportedly destroyed or disrupted one-sixth of the [oil] refining capacity of Venezuela….” (May and Zelikow, p. 639. Chomsky adds a reference to a contemplated invasion of Venezuela here. This appears to be fabricated since there is no such mention of any such event in the transcripts.)

    But the real point is that Kennedy began to dismantle Mongoose almost immediately after the Russian removal was verified. Cuban exile operations were severely curtailed, stipends were withdrawn, and groups were disbanded. By mid-1963, for all intents and purposes,Mongoose had been all but eliminated. As CIA official Desmond Fitzgerald wrote to President Johnson in 1964, in the second half of 1963 there were all of five raids against Cuba. The entire commando force consisted of fifty men. (Op, cit. DiEugenio, p. 70) Kennedy had clearly decided to pursue back channel negotiations with Castro with the goal of achieving normalization of relations with Cuba. The goal appeared to be in sight when Castro got the news of Kennedy’s death. He then turned to Kennedy’s representative Jean Daniel and said, “Everything is changed. Everything is going to change.” Castro was correct. Johnson showed no interest in continuing Kennedy’s goal of détente with Cuba. (ibid, pgs. 73-75) When Chomsky writes that the majority of Americans favor normalization of relations with Cuba, yet our leaders dismiss this opinion, one does not know whether to laugh or cry. Johnson cut off Kennedy’s eleven months of negotiations to achieve just that. And no American president since has ever come as close as JFK did to doing just that. And Castro himself admitted this at the time.

    The silliest part of this all too silly article is toward the end. Chomsky writes that war was avoided in 1962 “by Khrushchev’s willingness to accept Kennedy’s hegemonic demands.” When he writes something like that, one wonders if, unawares, Chomsky has Alzheimer’s disease. It was Khrushchev’s attempt to establish hegemony over West Berlin that originated the crisis. It was his insistent ignoring of Kennedy’s warnings over this first strike capability that brought the crisis to fruition. It was the premier’s lies about his intent that exacerbated it all. It was Castro’s orders to kill an American pilot that almost escalated the crisis beyond saving. And it was Castro who wanted to launch a first strike that would have led to Armageddon. The deal that Kennedy had contemplated all along was a good one for the Russians. Cuba stayed protected as a Marxist bastion, as it has to this day. After negotiations with NATO ally Turkey the Jupiters were removed. All that the USA got was the removal of a first strike threat—one which should have never been installed. And needless to say the Russians eventually caught up and actually surpassed America as a nuclear power. Gaining no real advantage at a great financial cost.

    Chomsky has now been proven both wrong and misleading on both Kennedy and Vietnam, and the Missile Crisis. But it’s worse than that. Chomsky simply has no regard for facts or evidence in the two cases. The mark of a good historian is that he provides balance and proper context first. He then produces the totality of the evidence, or close to it. His conclusion then follows inductively from the evidence. Chomsky violates each one of these strictures. Which is why his conclusion is so easily reduced to absurdity. In fact, his performance here is so bad, that when linked to his record in defending Pol Pot, his friendly ties to Holocaust deniers, and his flip-flop on the question of Kennedy’s assassination, the best thing his friends and colleagues can do is advise him to retire. The man is 84 years old. And his mental faculties seem to be failing him. Rather than embarrass himself further, it would be better if he spent the twilight of his life fishing off the Massachusetts coast. That would be better for him, the historical record, and us.

  • James W. Douglass, JFK and the Unspeakable

    James W. Douglass, JFK and the Unspeakable

    This book is the first volume of a projected trilogy. Orbis Books has commissioned James W. Douglass to write three books on the assassinations of the 1960’s. The second will be on the murders of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, while the third will be on the assassination of Bobby Kennedy.

    This is one of the few books on the Kennedy case that I actually wished was longer. In the purest sense, Jim Douglass is not a natural writer. But it seems to me he has labored meticulously to fashion a well organized, thoroughly documented, and felicitously composed piece of workmanship that is both comprehensible and easy to read. These attributes do not extend from simplicity of design or lack of ambition. This book takes in quite a lot of territory. In some ways it actually extends the frontier. In others it actually opens new paths. To achieve that kind of scope with a relative economy of means, and to make the experience both fast and pleasant, is quite an achievement.

    I should inform the reader at the outset: this is not just a book about JFK’s assassination. I would estimate that the book is 2/3 about Kennedy’s presidency and 1/3 about his assassination. And I didn’t mind that at all, because Douglass almost seamlessly knits together descriptions of several of Kennedy’s policies with an analysis of how those policies were both monitored and resisted, most significantly in Cuba and Vietnam. This is one of the things that makes the book enlightening and worthy of understanding.

    One point of worthwhile comparison would be to David Talbot’s previous volume Brothers. In my view, Douglass’ book is better. One of my criticisms of Talbot’s book was that I didn’t think his analysis of certain foreign policy areas was rigorous or comprehensive enough. You can’t say that about Douglass. I also criticized Talbot for using questionable witnesses like Angelo Murgado and Timothy Leary to further certain dubious episodes about Kennedy’s life and/or programs. Douglass avoided that pitfall.

    One way that Douglass achieves this textured effect is in his quest for new sources. One of the problems I had with many Kennedy assassination books for a long time is their insularity. That is, they all relied on pretty much the same general established bibliography. In my first book, Destiny Betrayed, I tried to break out of that mildewed and restrictive mold. I wanted to widen the lens in order to place the man and the crime in a larger perspective. Douglass picks up that ball and runs with it. There are sources he utilizes here that have been terribly underused, and some that haven’t been used before. For instance, unlike Talbot, Douglass sources Richard Mahoney’s extraordinary JFK:Ordeal in Africa, one of the finest books ever written on President Kennedy’s foreign policy. To fill in the Kennedy-Castro back channel of 1963 he uses In the Eye of the Storm by Carlos Lechuga and William Attwood’s The Twilight Struggle. On Kennedy and Vietnam the author utilizes Anne Blair’s Lodge in Vietnam, Ellen Hammer’s A Death in November, and Zalin Grant’s Facing the Phoenix. And these works allow Douglass to show us how men like Henry Cabot Lodge and Lucien Conein did not just obstruct, but actually subverted President Kennedy’s wishes in Saigon. On the assassination side, Douglass makes good use of that extraordinary feat of research Harvey and Lee by John Armstrong, the difficult to get manuscript by Roger Craig, When They Kill a President, plus the work of little known authors in the field like Bruce Adamson and hard to get manuscripts like Edwin Black’s exceptional essay on the Chicago plot. Further, he interviewed relatively new witnesses like Butch Burroughs and the survivors of deceased witnesses like Thomas Vallee, Bill Pitzer and Ralph Yates. In the use of these persons and sources, Douglass has pushed the envelope forward.

    But it’s not just what is in the book. It is how it is molded together that deserves attention. For instance, in the first chapter, Douglass is describing the Cuban Missile Crisis at length (using the newest transcription of the secretly recorded tapes by Sheldon Stern.) He then segues to Kennedy’s American University speech. At this point, Douglass then introduces the figure of Lee Harvey Oswald and his relation to the U-2 (p. 37). This is beautifully done because he has been specifically discussing the U-2 flights over Cuba during the Missile Crisis, and he subliminally matches both Kennedy and Oswald in their most extreme Cold War backdrops. He then switches back to the American University speech, contrasting its rather non-descript reception in the New York Times with its joyous welcome in Russia, thus showing that Kennedy’s efforts for dÈtente were more appreciated by his presumed enemy than by the domestic pundit class.

    These artful movements would be good enough. But the design of the book goes further. As mentioned above, in his first introduction of Oswald Douglass mentions the Nags Head, North Carolina military program which launched American soldiers into Russia as infiltrators. Near the end of the book (p. 365), with Oswald in jail about to be killed by Jack Ruby, Douglass returns to that military program with Oswald’s famous thwarted phone call to Raleigh, North Carolina: the spy left out in the cold attempting to contact his handlers for information as how to proceed. But not realizing that his attempted call will now guarantee his execution. Thus the author closes a previously prepared arc. It isn’t easy to do things like that. And it doesn’t really take talent. One just has to be something of a literary craftsman: bending over the table, honing and refining. But it’s the kind of detail work that pays off. It maintains the reader’s attention along the way and increases his understanding by the end.

    II

    One of the book’s most notable achievements is the 3-D picture of the Castro-Kennedy back channel of 1963. Douglass’ work on this episode is detailed, complete, and illuminating in more ways than one. From a multiplicity of books, periodicals, and interviews, the author produces not opinions or spin on what happened. And not after the fact, wishy-washy post-mortems. But actual first-hand knowledge of the negotiations by the people involved in them.

    It started in January of 1963. Attorney John Donovan had been negotiating the release of the Bay of Pigs prisoners when Castro’s physician and aide Rene Vallejo broached the subject of normalizing relations with the USA (p. 56). Right here, Douglass subtly tells us something important. For Vallejo would not have broached such a subject without Castro’s permission. In approaching these talks, Dean Rusk and the State Department wanted to establish preconditions. Namely that Cuba would have to break its Sino/Soviet ties. Kennedy overruled this qualification with the following: “We don’t want to present Castro with a condition that he obviously cannot fulfill.” NSC assistant Gordon Chase explained Kennedy’s intercession, “The President himself is very interested in this one.” (pgs. 57-58)

    Because the State Department was cut in at the start, the CIA got wind of the opening. Douglass makes the case that David Phillips and the Cuban exiles reacted by having the militant group Alpha 66 begin to raid Russian ships sailing toward Cuba. Antonio Veciana later stated that Phillips had arranged the raids because, “Kennedy would have to be forced to make a decision and the only way was to put him up against the wall.” (p. 57) The initial raid was followed by another a week later.

    Phillips did indeed force Kennedy into making a decision. At the end of March, the Justice Department began to stop Cuban exiles from performing these raids off of American territory. This resulted in crackdowns and arrests in Florida and Louisiana. And it was this crackdown that provoked a bitter falling out between the leaders of the CIA created Cuban Revolutionary Council and President Kennedy. Dr. Jose Miro Cardona stated that the “struggle for Cuba was in the process of being liquidated” for “every refugee has received his last allotment this month, forcing them to relocate.” (p. 59) The CRC had been a special project of both Phillips and Howard Hunt. As the Associated Press further reported in April, “The dispute between the Cuban exile leaders and the Kennedy administration was symbolized here today by black crepe hung from the doors of exiles’ homes.” (Ibid)

    Clearly, Kennedy was changing both speeds and direction. At this time, Donovan visited Castro and raised the point of Kennedy clamping down on the exile groups. Castro replied to this with the provocative statement that his “ideal government was not to be Soviet oriented.” (p. 60) When newscaster Lisa Howard visited Castro in late April, she asked how a rapprochement between the USA and Cuba could be achieved. Castro replied that the “Steps were already being taken” and Kennedy’s limitations on the exile raids was the first one. (p. 61)

    As Douglass observes, every Castro overture for normalization up to that point had been noted by the CIA. And CIA Director John McCone urged “that no active steps be taken on the rapprochement matter at this time.” (p. 61) Deftly, the author points out that– almost simultaneous with this–Oswald inexplicably moves from Dallas to New Orleans to begin his high profile pro-Castro activities. And later that summer, CIA case officers will secretly meet with Rolando Cubela to begin another attempt on Castro’s life.

    Oblivious to this, the back channel was now picked up and furthered by Howard and William Attwood. Howard reported that Castro was even more explicit now about dealing with Kennedy over the Russian influence in Cuba. He was willing to discuss Soviet personnel and military hardware on the island and even compensation for American lands and investments. The article she wrote at this time concluded with a request that a government official be sent to negotiate these matters with Fidel. (p. 70) This is where former journalist and then diplomat Attwood stepped in. Knowing that Attwood had talked with Castro before, Kennedy instructed him to make contact with Carlos Lechuga. Lechuga was Cuba’s ambassador at the United Nations, and Kennedy felt this would be a logical next step to continue the dialogue and perhaps set some kind of agenda and parameters. Howard arranged the meeting between the two opposing diplomats. Attwood told Lechuga that Kennedy felt relations could not be changed overnight, but something “had to be done about it and a start had to be made.” (p. 71) Lechuga replied that Castro had liked Kennedy’s American University speech and he felt that Castro might OK a visit by Attwood to Cuba. This, of course, would have been a significant milestone.

    A funny and revealing thing happened next. Both sides alerted the other that they would be making boilerplate anti-Cuba and anti-America speeches. (Adlai Stevenson would be doing the anti-Cuba one at the UN.) This clearly implies that the players understood that while relations were warming in private, motions had to be gone through in public to please the pundit class.

    Howard then requested that Vallejo ask Castro if Fidel would approve a visit by Attwood in the near future. Attwood believed this message never got through to Castro. So Kennedy decided to get the message to Castro via Attwood’s friend, French journalist Jean Daniel. (p. 72) What Kennedy told Daniel is somewhat stunning. Thankfully, and I believe for the first time in such a book, Douglass quotes it at length. I will summarize it here.

    Kennedy wanted Daniel to tell Castro that he understood the horrible exploitation, colonization, and humiliation the history of Cuba represented and that the people of Cuba had endured. He even painfully understood that the USA had been part of this during the Batista regime. Startlingly, he said he approved of Castro’s declarations made in the Sierra Maestra Mountains. He added, “In the matter of the Batista regime, I am in agreement with the first Cuban revolutionaries. That is perfectly clear.” Daniel was somewhat taken aback by these sentiments. But, Kennedy continued, the dilemma now was that Cuba — because of its Soviet ties — had become part of the Cold War. And this had led to the Missile Crisis. Kennedy felt that Khrushchev understood all these ramifications now, after that terrible thirteen days.

    The president concluded with this, “…but so far as Fidel Castro is concerned, I must say I don’t know whether he realizes this, or even if he cares about it.” Kennedy smiled and then ended Daniel’s instructions with this: “You can tell me whether he does when you come back.”

    Daniel then went to Havana. On November 19th Castro walked into his hotel. Fidel was fully aware of the Attwood/Lechuga meetings. He was also aware of Kennedy’s briefing of Daniel. He had found out about this through Howard. In fact, he had told her he did not think it would be a good idea for him to meet Attwood in New York. He suggested that the meeting could be arranged by picking up Attwood in Mexico and flying him to Cuba. Castro also agreed that Che Guevara should be left out of the talks since he opposed their ultimate aim. Attwood said that Lechuga and he should meet to discuss a full agenda for a later meeting between himself and Castro. This was done per Kennedy’s instructions, and JFK wanted to brief Attwood beforehand on what the agenda should be. Things were heading into a higher gear.

    Daniel was unaware of the above when Castro walked into his room for a six-hour talk about Kennedy. (pgs. 85-89) I won’t even attempt to summarize this conversation. I will only quote Castro thusly, “Suddenly a president arrives on the scene who tries to support the interest of another class … ” Clearly elated by Daniel’s message, Castro and the journalist spent a large part of the next three days together. Castro even stated that JFK could now become the greatest president since Lincoln.

    On the third day, Daniel was having lunch with Fidel when the phone rang. The news about Kennedy being shot in Dallas had arrived. Stunned, Castro hung up the phone, sat down and then repeated over and over, “This is bad news … This is bad news … This is bad news.” (p. 89) A few moments later when the radio broadcast the report stating that Kennedy was now dead, Castro stood up and said, “Everything is changed. Everything is going to change.” (p. 90)

    To say he was prophetic is putting it mildly. Attwood would later write that what it took 11 months to build was gone in about three weeks. By December 17th it was clear that President Johnson was brushing it all aside. Retroactively, Attwood came to conclude that it had all really ended in Dealey Plaza. He finalized his thoughts about the excellent progress made up to that point with this: “There is no doubt in my mind. If there had been no assassination we probably would have moved into negotiations leading toward normalization of relations with Cuba.” (p. 177)

    Douglass has done a real service here. Gus Russo will now have an even more difficult time in defending the thesis of his nonsensical book. No one can now say, as the authors of Ultimate Sacrifice do that these negotiations were “headed nowhere.” And if they do, we will now know what to think of them.

    III

    Equally as good as the above is Douglass’ work on Kennedy and Vietnam. Especially in regards to the events leading up to the November coup against Ngo Dinh Diem and the eventual murder of both he and his brother Ngo Dinh Nhu.

    Taking a helpful cue from David Kaiser’s American Tragedy, Douglass begins his discourse by analyzing Kennedy’s single-minded pursuit of a neutralization policy in neighboring Laos. (pgs. 98-101) Douglass exemplifies just how single-minded JFK was on this by excerpting a phone call the president had with his point man on the 1962 Laos negotiations, Averill Harriman: “Did you understand? I want a negotiated settlement in Laos. I don’t want to put troops in.” (p. 104)

    Unfortunately, no one felt the same way about Vietnam. Except President Kennedy. The Pentagon, the CIA, Lyndon Johnson and the Nhu brothers all looked askance at Laos as a model for Vietnam. (p. 106) Even the one general that JFK favored, Maxwell Taylor, told him to send in combat troops as early as 1961. (Ibid) After Taylor’s visit there, Ambassador Frederick Nolting wired Kennedy that “conversations over the past ten days with Vietnamese in various walks of life” showed a “virtually unanimous desire for introduction US forces in Viet Nam.” (p. 107) In other words, his own ambassador was trying to sell him on the idea that the general populace wanted the American army introduced there. Finally, both Secretary of Defense Bob McNamara and his assistant Ros Gilpatric also joined the chorus. As Taylor later recalled, no one was actually against it except President Kennedy “The president just didn’t want to be convinced … . It was really the President’s personal conviction that U.S. ground troops shouldn’t go in.” (Ibid) But in 1961, Kennedy was not yet ready to withdraw. So he threw a sop to the hawks and approved a new influx of 15, 000 advisers.

    In April of 1962, John K. Galbraith sent a memo to Kennedy proposing a negotiated settlement with the North Vietnamese. The Joint Chiefs, State Department, and Harriman vigorously opposed the idea. It was too much like Laos. (pgs 118-119) But Kennedy liked the proposal. And in the spring of 1962 he instructed McNamara to initiate a plan to withdraw American forces from South Vietnam. In May of 1962, McNamara told the commanders on the scene to begin to plan for this as the president wanted to see the blueprint as soon as it was ready.

    To put it mildly, the military dragged its heels. It took them a year to prepare the outline. In the meantime Kennedy was telling a number of friends and acquaintances that he was getting out of Vietnam. Douglass assembles quite an impressive list of witnesses to this fact: White House aide Malcolm Kilduff, journalist Larry Newman, Sen. Wayne Morse, Marine Corps Chief David Shoup, Canadian Prime Minister Lester Pearson, Asst. Sec. of State Roger Hilsman, Sen. Mike Mansfield, Congressman Tip O’Neill, and newspaper editor Charles Bartlett, among others. Mansfield, for one, wrote that Kennedy had become unequivocal on the subject of withdrawal by the end of 1962. (p. 124)

    In May of 1963, at the so-called SecDef meeting in Honolulu, the generals in Vietnam finally presented their withdrawal plan. McNamara said it was too slow. He wanted it revised and speeded up. In September, Kennedy and McNamara announced the order — NSAM 263 — to begin the withdrawal. It consisted of the first thousand troops to be out by the end of the year. Which, of course, would be reversed almost immediately after his death. (See Probe, Vol. 5 No. 3 p. 18.)

    The parallel story that Douglass tells — with grim skill and painful detail — is of the tragic demise of the Nhu brothers. It is the clearest and most moving synopsis of that sad tale that I can recall. It begins in May of 1963 with the famous bombing of the Hue radio station during a Buddhist holiday. A Buddhist rally was in progress there to protest another discriminatory edict passed by the Catholic Diem. The importance of this bombing, and the subsequent firing into the crowd–which left seven dead and fifteen wounded–cannot be minimized. As many commentators have noted, this localized incident mushroomed into a full-blown political crisis, spawning huge strikes and large street demonstrations. The twin explosions that shook the building were first blamed on the Viet Cong. Then on the South Vietnamese police. Which enraged the Buddhist population against Diem even further since his brother Nhu was in charge of the security forces. It was a milestone in the collapse of faith by the State Department in Diem. And it eventually led them to back the coup of the generals against the Nhu brothers.

    What Douglass does here is introduce a new analysis based on evidence developed at the scene. Because of the particular pattern of destruction on both the building and the victims, the local doctors and authorities came to the conclusion that it had to have been caused by a certain plastic explosive — which only the CIA possessed at the time. A further investigation by a Vietnamese newspaper located the American agent who admitted to the bombing. (p. 131) This puts the event in a new context. Douglass then builds on this in a most interesting and compelling manner.

    As mentioned above, the Hue atrocity caused even the liberals in the State Department to abandon Diem. So now Harriman and Hilsman united with the conservative hawks in an effort to oust him. In late August, they manipulated Kennedy into approving a cable that gave the go-ahead to a group of South Vietnamese generals to explore the possibility of a coup. (Afterwards, at least one high staffer offered to resign over misleading Kennedy about McNamara’s previous approval of the cable.) The leading conservative mounting the effort to dethrone Diem was Henry Cabot Lodge. Kennedy had planned to recall Ambassador Nolting and appoint Edmund Gullion to the position. And, as readers of the Mahoney book will know, Gullion was much more in tune with Kennedy’s thinking on Third World nationalism. He had actually tutored him on the subject in 1951 when Congressman Kennedy first visited Saigon. But Secretary of State Dean Rusk overruled this appointment, and suggested Lodge for the job. Lodge lobbied hard for the position because he wanted to use it as a springboard for a run for the presidency in 1964.

    Many, including myself, have maintained that if there was a black-hatted villain in the drama of Saigon and the Nhu brothers in 1963, it was Lodge. Douglass makes an excellent case for that thesis here. Before moving to Saigon, Lodge consulted with, of all people, Time-Life publisher Henry Luce. He went to him for advice on what his approach to Diem should be. (p. 163) Kennedy’s foe Luce advised Lodge not to negotiate with Diem. Referring him to the work of a journalist in his employ, he told Lodge to engage Diem in a “game of chicken”. What this meant was that unless Diem capitulated on every point of contention between the two governments, support would be withdrawn. The ultimate endgame would be that there would be nothing to prop up his rule. And this is what Lodge did. With disastrous results.

    From the time of the August cable, Lodge plotted with CIA officer Lucien Conein to encourage the coup and to undermine Diem by ignoring him. Even though, as Douglass makes clear, this is contrary to what JFK wanted. Kennedy grew so frustrated with Lodge that he sent his friend Torby McDonald on a secret mission to tell Diem that he must get rid of his brother Nhu. (p. 167)

    It was Lodge who got John McCone to withdraw CIA station chief John Richardson who was sympathetic to Diem. Lodge wanted McCone to replace him with Ed Lansdale. Why? Because Lansdale was more experienced in changing governments. Richardson was withdrawn but no immediate replacement was named. So in September of 1963, this essentially left Lodge and Conein in charge of the CIA’s interaction with the generals. And it was Conein who had been handling this assignment from the beginning, even before Lodge got on the scene. Around this time, stories began to emanate from Saigon by journalists Richard Starnes and Arthur Krock about the CIA being a power that was accountable to no one.

    It was Lodge, along with establishment journalist Joe Alsop — who would later help convince Johnson to create the Warren Commission — who began the stories about Diem negotiating a secret treaty with Ho Chi Minh. (p. 191) This disclosure — looked upon as capitulation– further encouraged the efforts by the military for a coup. In September, Kennedy accidentally discovered that the CIA had cut off the Commodity Import Program for South Vietnam. He was taken aback. He knew this would do two things: 1.) It would send the South Vietnamese economy into a tailspin, and 2.) It would further encourage the generals because it would convey the message the USA was abandoning Diem. (p. 195)

    On October 24th, the conspirators told Conein the coup was imminent. JFK told Lodge he wanted to be able to stop the coup at the last minute. (Conein later testified that he was getting conflicting cables from Washington: the State Department was telling him to proceed, the Kennedys were telling him to stop.) At this time Diem told Lodge he wanted Kennedy to know he was ready to carry out his wishes. (p. 202) But Lodge did not relay this crucial message to Kennedy until after the coup began.

    The rest of Douglass’ work here confirms what was only suggested in the Church Committee Report. Clearly, Conein and Lodge had sided with the generals to the ultimate degree. And, like Lenin with the Romanov family, the generals had decided that Diem and his brother had to be terminated. Lodge and Conein helped the coup plotters to facilitate the final bloody outcome. In turn, by using the Alsop-Lodge story about the Diem/Ho negotiations, the CIA egged on the murderous denouement. (p. 209) Not knowing Lodge was subverting Kennedy’s actual wishes, Diem kept calling the ambassador even after the coup began. This allowed Lodge to supply his true location to Conein after the brothers had fled the bombed presidential castle. So when the brothers walked out of the Catholic Church they had taken refuge in, they thought the truck that awaited them was escorting them to the airport. But with the help of their two American allies, the generals had arranged for the truck themselves. And the unsuspecting Nhu brothers walked into the hands of their murderers.

    Kennedy was so distraught by this outcome he decided to recall Lodge and fire him. He had arranged to do this on November 24th. Instead, President Johnson called the ambassador back with a different message: the US must not lose in Vietnam. (p. 375)

    These are the best twin summaries on Kennedy’s 1963 Vietnam and Cuba policies that I have seen between the covers of one book. After his death, the negotiations with Cuba would disappear forever. And, with even more alacrity, Lyndon Johnson now embarked on an escalation into a disastrous war in Southeast Asia whose price, even today, is incalculable. Douglass makes a convincing case that neither would have occurred if JFK had lived. I leave it to the reader to decide whether those two irrevocable alterations directly and negatively impacted the lives of tens of millions in America, Cuba, and Southeast Asia.

    IV

    Generally speaking, Douglass has done a good job of choosing some of the better evidence that has appeared of late to indicate a conspiracy. What he does with Ruth and Michael Paine, especially the former, is salutary.

    Michael Paine did not just work at Bell Helicopter. He did not just have a security clearance there. His stepfather, Arthur Young, invented the Bell helicopter. His mother, Ruth Forbes Paine Young, was descended from the Boston Brahmin Forbes family — one of the oldest in America. She was a close friend of Mary Bancroft. Mary Bancroft worked with Allen Dulles as a spy during World War II in Switzerland. This is where Dulles got many of his ideas on espionage, which he would incorporate as CIA Director under Eisenhower. Bancroft also became Dulles’ friend and lover. She herself called Ruth Forbes, “a very good friend of mine.” (p. 169) This may explain why, according to Walt Brown, the Paines were the most oft-questioned witnesses to appear before the Commission.

    Ruth Paine’s father was William Avery Hyde. Ruth described him before the Warren Commission as an insurance underwriter. (p. 170) But there was more to it than that. Just one month after the Warren Report was issued, Mr. Hyde received a three-year government contract from the Agency for International Development (AID). He became their regional adviser for all of Latin America. As was revealed in the seventies, AID was riddled with CIA operatives. To the point that some called it an extension of the Agency. Hyde’s reports were forwarded both to the State Department and the CIA. (Ibid)

    Ruth Paine’s older sister was Sylvia Hyde Hoke. Sylvia was living in Falls Church, Virginia in 1963. Ruth stayed with Sylvia in September of 1963 while traveling across country. (p. 170) Falls Church adjoins Langley, which was then the new headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency, a prized project of Allen Dulles. It was from Falls Church that Ruth Paine journeyed to New Orleans to pick up Marina Oswald, who she had been introduced to by George DeMohrenschildt. After she picked Marina up, she deposited her in her home in Irving, Texas. Thereby separating Marina from Lee at the time of the assassination.

    Some later discoveries made Ruth’s itinerary in September quite interesting. It turned out that John Hoke, Sylvia’s husband, also worked for AID. And her sister Sylvia worked directly for the CIA itself. By the time of Ruth’s visit, Sylvia had been employed by the Agency for eight years. In regards to this interestingly timed visit to her sister, Jim Garrison asked Ruth some pointed questions when she appeared before a grand jury in 1968. He first asked her if she knew her sister had a file that was classified at that time in the National Archives. Ruth replied she did not. In fact, she was not aware of any classification matter at all. When the DA asked her if she had any idea why it was being kept secret, Ruth replied that she didn’t. Then Garrison asked Ruth if she knew which government agency Sylvia worked for. The uninquiring Ruth said she did not know. (p. 171) This is the same woman who was seen at the National Archives pouring through her files in 1976, when the House Select Committee was gearing up.

    When Marina Oswald was called before the same grand jury, a citizen asked her if she still associated with Ruth Paine. Marina replied that she didn’t. When asked why not, Marina stated that it was upon the advice of the Secret Service. She then elaborated on this by explaining that they had told her it would look bad if the public found out the “connection between me and Ruth and CIA.” An assistant DA then asked, “In other words, you were left with the distinct impression that she was in some way connected with the CIA?” Marina replied simply, “Yes.” (p. 173)

    Douglass interpolates the above with the why and how of Oswald ending up on the motorcade route on 11/22/63. Robert Adams of the Texas Employment Commission testified to having called the Paine household at about the time Oswald was referred by Ruth — via a neighbor– to the Texas School Book Depository (TSBD) for a position. He called and was told Oswald was not there. He left a message for Oswald to come down and see him since he had a position available as a cargo handler at a regional cargo airline. Interestingly, this job paid about 1/3 more than the job Oswald ended up with at the TSBD. He called again the next day to inquire about Oswald and the position again. He was now told that Lee had already taken a job. Ruth was questioned about the Adams call by the Warren Commission’s Albert Jenner. At first she denied ever hearing of such a job offer. She said, “I do not recall that.” (p. 172) She then backtracked, in a tactical way. She now said that she may have heard of the offer from Lee. This, of course, would seem to contradict both the Adams testimony and common sense. If Oswald was cognizant of the better offer, why would he take the lower paying job?

    In addition to his work on the true background of the Paines, which I will return to later, Douglass’ section on the aborted plot against Kennedy in Chicago is also exceptional. The difference between what Douglass does here and what was done in Ultimate Sacrifice is the difference between confusion and comprehension. After they were informed of a plot, the police arrested Thomas Vallee on a pretext. Interestingly Dan Groth, the suspicious officer in on the arrest of Vallee, was later part of the SWAT team that assassinated Black Panthers Fred Hampton and Mark Clark in 1969. (p. 204) Groth took several lengthy leaves from Chicago to Washington for special training under the auspices of the FBI and CIA. Groth never had a regular police assignment, but always worked counter-intelligence, with an early focus on the Fair Play for Cuba Committee. (Ibid)

    Thomas Vallee, the presumed patsy, is just as interesting. The Chicago version of Oswald had suffered a severe concussion during the Korean War. It was so debilitating, he was discharged and then collected disability payments. When he got home he was in a bad car crash and suffered serious head injuries, which caused him to slip into a two-month coma. (p. 205) He was later diagnosed as mentally disturbed with elements of schizophrenia and paranoia. The CIA later recruited him to train Cuban exiles to assassinate Castro. It was these connections which probably helped maneuver him to be in a warehouse overlooking President Kennedy’s parade route for a scheduled visit to the Windy City. After his arrest, and the cancellation of the early November visit, the police tried to track down his license plate. They found out they couldn’t. (p. 203) The information was “locked”. Only the FBI could “unlock” it.

    I should also note the author’s probing of the enduring mystery of Carl Mather and Collins Radio. This originates from the sighting of an Oswald double about ten minutes and eight blocks from his arrest at the Texas Theater. Around 2:00 PM, auto mechanic T. F. White noticed a Ford Falcon that first drove past, and then parked oddly in the lot of El Chico Restaurant. Which was across the street from White’s garage. He told his boss about the man in the car who seemed to be hiding. White walked over to get a closer look. About ten yards away from the car, he stopped as the man in the white T-shirt looked right at him. (p. 295) Before he left the lot, he wrote down the license plate number of the car. When he went home that night and saw Oswald’s face on TV, he told his wife that this was the man he saw in the Falcon.

    Local Dallas broadcaster and future mayor Wes Wise heard about White’s experience. When he interviewed him, White gave him the license number. Wise called the FBI. The Bureau traced the license to one Carl Mather of Garland, Texas. But the license number was on Mather’s Plymouth, not a Falcon.

    Mather did high-security communications work for Collins Radio, a major contractor for the CIA. How major and sensitive? Collins had outfitted raider ships for sabotage missions off the coast of Cuba. They also installed communication towers in Vietnam. Further, Mather had installed electronics equipment on Air Force Two. (p. 297) After Wise’s call, the Bureau wanted to talk to Mather. But Mather didn’t want to talk to the Bureau. So they talked to his wife Barbara. She surprised the G-men by saying her husband had been a close friend of J. D. Tippit. How close? When Tippit was shot, his wife phoned them. Many years later, the HSCA also wanted to talk to Mather. He didn’t want to talk to them either. They persisted. He relented upon one condition: he wanted a grant of immunity from prosecution. But he still had no explanation for how his license ended up on a car with an Oswald double in it right after Oswald’s arrest. This is all interesting, even engrossing, on its own. But the author takes it further. Citing the valuable work of John Armstrong, he then builds a case that there were two Oswalds at the Texas Theater on November 22, 1963. One was arrested and taken out the front door. The second Oswald was hiding in the balcony and later escorted out the back by the police. Before anyone gets too dismissive, there are two Dallas Police Department reports that refer to Oswald being in the balcony of the theater. (p. 293) And there are two witnesses who saw an Oswald lookalike escorted out the rear: Butch Burroughs and Bernard Haire. (I should add here, in a 4/8/08 interview I did with Armstrong for this review, he said there was a sheriff’s officer who also saw this second Oswald on the stairs between the mezzanine and the first floor.) The author postulates that the man who exited the rear is the man who ended up in the Falcon. He then wraps this up by saying that this double was ultimately flown out of Dallas on a military transport plane. This is based on the testimony of retired Air Force officer Robert Vinson. It is contained in a 52-page affidavit given to his attorney James P. Johnston of Wichita, Kansas.

    I would like to conclude this section by noting Douglass’ attention to the pain and suffering inflicted upon those who have tried to tell the truth as they knew it about the JFK case. Their only misfortune being that what they saw and knew was not conducive to the Warren Commission’s mythology.

    Most of us are aware of what happened to Richard Case Nagell. How he was railroaded and incarcerated after he was arrested in El Paso, Texas on September 20, 1963. (pgs. 152-158) But Douglass sheds light on what happened to three other important witnesses. Jim Wilcott and his wife worked for the Agency out of the Tokyo station. On the day of the assassination, Wilcott pulled a 24-hour security shift. That evening, more than one employee told him that the CIA had to have been involved in Kennedy’s killing. When Wilcott asked how they knew this, the response was that they had handled disbursements for him under a cryptonym. Also, he had been trained by the Agency as a double agent at Atsugi. (pgs. 146-147) Later, both Jim and his wife quit the Agency. They then went public with their knowledge. Jim lost his private sector job, started receiving threatening phone calls, and had the tires on his car slashed.

    Abraham Bolden was a Secret Service agent who had asked to leave the White House in 1961. He did not care for the lackadaisical practices of the White House detail. (p. 200) On October 30, 1963 Bolden was in Chicago when the local agents were briefed on what they knew about an attempt being planned on JFK’s life there. After Vallee’s arrest and the foiling of the plot, Bolden felt a foreboding about Kennedy’s upcoming trip to Dallas. When Kennedy was killed, Bolden noted the similarities between what had occurred in Dallas and what almost occurred in Chicago. In May of 1964 he was in Washington for a Secret Service training program. (p. 215) He tried to contact the Warren Commission about what he knew. The day after his call to J. Lee Rankin, he was sent back to Chicago. Upon his arrival he was arrested. The pretense was that he was trying to sell Secret Service files to a counterfeiter. Upon his arraignment he was formally charged with fraud, obstruction of justice, and conspiracy. (Ibid) Needless to say, Bolden was convicted based upon perjured testimony. (The phony witness later admitted this himself.) He was imprisoned at Springfield where he was placed in a psychiatric unit. (p. 216) He was given mind-numbing drugs. But other inmates alerted him to the nature of the drugs in advance. So he knew how to fake taking the pills. While in prison, his family endured a bombing of their home, setting fire to their garage, and a sniper shooting through their window. Mark Lane, while working for Garrison, visited him in 1967. Lane then wrote about Bolden’s knowledge of the plot in Chicago. When the prison authorities learned about this, they placed Bolden in solitary confinement. He was finally released in 1969.

    Compared to the fate of Ralph Yates, Bolden did all right. On November 20, 1963 Yates was making his rounds as a refrigerator mechanic for the Texas Butcher Supply Company in Dallas. That morning he picked up a hitchhiker on the R. L. Thornton Expressway. The man had a package with him that was wrapped in brown paper. When Yates asked him if he would prefer to place it in the back of the pickup, the passenger said no. They were curtain rods and he would rather keep them in the cab. (p. 351) The conversation rolled around to the subject of Kennedy’s upcoming visit. The man asked Yates if he thought it was possible to kill Kennedy while he was there. Yates said that yes, it was possible. The hitchhiker then asked if Yates knew the motorcade route. Yates said he did not, but it had been in the paper. The man asked if he thought it would now be changed. Yates said that he doubted it. The passenger asked to be let off at a stoplight near Elm and Houston. Yates then returned to his shop and told his colleague Dempsey Jones about the strange conversation. (p. 352)

    After the assassination, Yates noted the hitchhiker’s resemblance to Oswald. So he volunteered his experience with him to the FBI. They brought him back for a total of four interviews. It became clear they did not want to believe him. The reason being that Oswald was not supposed to be on the expressway at that time. They finally gave him a polygraph test. The agents then told Yates’ wife that, according to the machine, her husband was telling the truth. But, they concluded, the reason was that “he had convinced himself that he was telling the truth. So that’s how it came out.” (p. 354) The FBI told Yates that he needed help. So they sent him to Woodlawn Hospital, where he was admitted as a psychiatric patient. To quote the author, “From that point on, he spent the remaining eleven years of his life as a patient in and out of mental health hospitals. ” (Ibid) Such was the price for disturbing the equilibrium of the official story.

    V

    In this last section, I want to tie together four strands Douglass deals with. I also want to suggest how they fit together not just in a conspiratorial design, but a design against this particular president.

    In addition to his elucidation of the Castro/Kennedy back channel, Douglass also deals with Kennedy’s back channel to Khrushchev. Kennedy had gotten off to a rocky start with the Russians because of the Bay of Pigs debacle and the roughness of the 1961 Vienna summit. But toward the end of 1961, he and the Russian premier had established a secret correspondence. The first letter was delivered by Georgi Bolshakov to Pierre Salinger wrapped in a newspaper. (p. 23) Khrushchev seemed to be trying to tell Kennedy that although he may have seemed unreasonable in Vienna, he was dead set against going down a path to war that would lead to the death of millions. The letter was 26 pages long, and Khrushchev mentioned hot spots on the globe like Laos and Berlin. Kennedy dutifully responded. And the correspondence went on for a year. It was then supplemented by two unlikely cohorts: Pope John XXIII, and Saturday Review editor Norman Cousins. Cousins had been the intermediary between John and the premier. When Kennedy heard of this, he decided to have Cousins carry messages to Khrushchev for him also. In fact, it seems that it was actually Cousins who provided the impetus for Kennedy to make his remarkable American University speech of June 10, 1963. (p. 346)

    This speech is one of the centerpieces of the book. Douglass prints it in its entirety as an appendix. (pgs. 382-388) He also analyzes it at length in the text. (pgs. 41-45) Khrushchev was ecstatic about the speech. He called it, “the greatest speech by any American president since Roosevelt.” (p. 45) So inspired was he that he countered the speech and the renewed correspondence in multiple terms: 1.) A limited test ban treaty 2.) A non-aggression treaty between NATO and the Warsaw Pact, and 3.) He encouraged Castro in his back channel with Kennedy. Douglass places much importance on the last and he uses Russian sources, including Khrushchev’s son, to bolster it. (pgs 68-69)

    There was another person at the time tiring of the Cold War and his role in it. Except he had a much lower profile than the four luminaries depicted above. His name was Lee Harvey Oswald. As Marina once said, Oswald “liked and approved of the President and he believed that for the United States in 1963, John F. Kennedy was the best president the country could hope to have.” (p. 331) At the New Orleans Public Library, he checked out William Manchester’s profile of JFK, Portrait of a President, Kennedy’s own Profiles in Courage, and a book called The White Nile. The last he read only because Manchester noted that Kennedy had read it recently. (Ibid) When Kennedy spoke on the radio about the test ban treaty, Lee listened intently and told Marina that he was making an appeal for disarmament. Curiously, he also informed his wife that Kennedy would actually like to pursue a more gentle policy with Cuba. But unfortunately he was not free to do so at the time. Doesn’t sound like the Krazy Kid planning on murdering JFK does it?

    The night after Kennedy’s test ban speech, Oswald gave a speech of his own at Spring Hill College in Mobile, Alabama. His cousin, Eugene Murret was a seminarian there and he invited him to talk about his experiences in the Russian system. Douglass uses Oswald’s notes on the speech to inform us what he was thinking at the time. And, for the man depicted by the Warren Commission, its extraordinary. Away from New Orleans, away from his handlers, away from scripted situations arranged by others, Oswald said some surprising things. He first chided his audience. Sounding like JFK, the man he admired, he warned them that military coups are not a far away thing in some banana republic in South America. It could happen here, in the USA, their own country. (Ibid) Which organization could do such a thing? He said it could not come from the army, because of its many conscripts, its large and cumbersome structure, its huge network of bases. Amazingly, he specifically mentioned Kennedy relieving Edwin Walker of his command as evidence it would not come from there. Walker, the man he derisively dismisses here, is the man he was already supposed to have tried to shoot!

    He then said that from his experience in both Russia and America, “Capitalism doesn’t work, communism doesn’t work. In the middle is socialism and that doesn’t work either.” (p. 473) He concluded that by returning to the USA, he was choosing the lesser of two evils. This does not remotely suggest the ideological zealot debating Ed Butler about the merits of Marxism, who was passing out flyers begging for fair treatment for Cuba, who got into street fights with anti-Castro Cubans who perceived him as a defender of Fidel. Here, in a secluded place, many miles away from Clay Shaw, David Ferrie, and Guy Banister, he sounds like a spy ready to come in from the cold. Ready to retire to a desk job under the president he admired.

    But his handlers weren’t ready to retire him just yet. As Ruth Paine left her stay in Falls Church to head south to pick up Marina, Oswald allegedly embarked on what Philip Melanson called his Magical Mystery Tour to Mexico. The object of this final charade of course was to depict Oswald as trying to obtain visas for Cuba and the Soviet Union. As Douglass describes it, this utterly intriguing journey is multi-layered. What Oswald seems to think he is doing is the final act of what he did in New Orleans: discrediting the FPCC. Which had been an operation the CIA had that was ongoing. As John Newman has pointed out, David Phillips and James McCord were in on it. But there was also something else going on here. After the fact, the CIA seems to have tried to create a questionable trail, one that would suggest Oswald was trying to get into contact with Valery Kostikov. Kostikov worked at the Soviet consulate but was also a KGB agent who the FBI had discovered was involved in assassination plots. (p. 76) But as the author demonstrates here, the record of this trip is so fraught with inconsistencies, improbabilities, conflicting testimony and outright deception that it “inadvertently revealed more about the CIA” than about Oswald. (p. 75)

    The author notes the witnesses at the Cuban embassy who could not identify the man they saw as Oswald. Using the fine work of Newman, Douglass shows that at least some of the calls attributed to Oswald are dubious. (p. 76) He also adroitly notes that, prior to the assassination, the CIA held this alleged Kostikov/Oswald association close to its vest. If they had not, then it is highly probable that Oswald would not have been on the president’s motorcade route on 11/22. Which, shortly after his return, was insured by the Paines not telling Oswald about the other job offer. Douglass astutely relates the final way his presence there was ultimately clinched. A man at the Bureau, Marvin Gheesling, deactivated Oswald’s FLASH warning on 10/9/63. This meant that Oswald was not placed on the Security Index in Dallas. Again, if he would have been on this list, it is very likely the Secret Service would have had him under surveillance prior to November 22nd. Hoover was furious when he found out what Gheesling had done. He had him censured and placed on probation. On the documents censuring him he wrote, “Yes, send this guy to Siberia!” (p. 178) Later, on the marginalia of another document, he wrote that the Bureau should not trust the CIA again because of the phony story the Agency had given them about Oswald in Mexico City. (Ibid)

    As others have noted, the combination of Oswald moving around so much plus the late-breaking, dubious, but explosive details of the Mexico City trip, all caused the system to overload in the wake of the JFK assassination. On November 23rd, after talking to Hoover by phone and John McCone in person, Johnson was quite clear about his fear of nuclear war. He told his friend Richard Russell that the question of Kennedy’s murder had to be removed from the Mexico City arena. Why? Because “they’re testifying that Khrushchev and Castro did this and did that and kicking us into a war that can kill forty million Americans in an hour.” (p. 231) The manufactured trail in Mexico helped freeze any real attempt to search for the actual facts of this case. It was too dangerous. And there was a second built-in element that curtailed any real investigation. The fact that the FBI was short changed on information about Oswald — by the files not getting from New Orleans to Dallas quickly enough, and by the CIA withholding crucial information about Oswald in Mexico City — this helped pitch the Bureau into a CYA mode. For clearly, their surveillance of Oswald had been faulty. His activities in New Orleans, his alleged attempts to contact Kostikov in Mexico, his threatening message left at the Dallas FBI office, all of these should have put him on the Security Index.

    But as Donald Gibson has noted, the safety valve to all this soon emerged. First, Jock Whitney’s New York Herald Tribune put out the cover story about a disturbed Oswald being a “crazed individual” with “homicidal fantasies”. (Probe, Vol. 7 No. 1 p. 19) This, of course, began to detract from the Oswald as the Marxist-motivated, Kostikov-employed assassin. It created a new profile for Oswald. He was now the lonely and disturbed sociopath. As Gibson further showed, a day after this, the lobbying effort of Eugene Rostow, Dean Acheson, and Joe Alsop would convince Johnson to create the Warren Commission. (Probe, Vol. 3 No. 4 p. 8) And at one of its very early meetings, Allen Dulles passed out a book promoting this particular view of American assassinations.

    If all Douglass had written about the technique of the cover-up was the above, he would have done a salutary and exceptional job. But he has gone further. And this makes his writing on the subject both new and even more valuable. Carol Hewett once wrote a quite interesting article (Probe, Vol. 4 No. 3) about how Ruth Paine “discovered” Oswald’s alleged letter to the Russian embassy in Washington. The date of this letter is November 9th. In the letter Oswald writes about “recent events” in Mexico with a man he calls Comrade Kostin. (This has usually been taken to mean Kostikov, although Hewett pointed out that there actually was a Soviet agent named Kostin.) Oswald went on to write, “I had not planned to contact the Soviet embassy in Mexico so they were unprepared, had I been able to reach the Soviet embassy in Havana as planned, the embassy there would have had time to complete our business.” (p. 228, Douglass’ italics.) The author comments, “here the letter deepens the Soviet involvement in the plot and extends the complicity to Cuba.” In other words, “the business” would have been part of a co-conspiracy between the two communist countries. Further, Oswald betrayed knowledge in the letter that Eusebio Azcue, an employee at the Cuban consulate, had been replaced. But this did not happen until November 18 –the day the letter arrived at the Soviet embassy. How Oswald knew this would happen in advance has never been adequately explained.

    In his call to Johnson on November 23rd, Hoover mentioned the letter. But he played down its more explosive and conspiratorial elements. (p. 229) But it was not until 1999, when Boris Yeltsin turned over long-secret documents to President Clinton, that we got the contemporaneous Soviet reaction to the arrival of this letter. The Soviet diplomats considered it a clear provocation against them. (p. 230) They also considered it a deception, since they had no such ties to Oswald. They also noted it was typed yet other letters that he wrote to them were handwritten. They thus concluded it was a forgery. Or perhaps someone had dictated it to him–perhaps as a completion of the FPCC counter-intelligence operation. But most significantly, the Soviets felt the letter was “concocted by those … involved in the President’s assassination.” (p. 230) To disown it, they turned it over to the State Department on November 26th.

    But, by then, the FBI already had two copies of the letter. One from a mail intercept program and one via Ruth Paine. Ruth Paine gave FBI agent Jim Hosty her handwritten copy of the letter on November 23rd. As Hewett pointed out, how and why she copied this letter was a matter of a long colloquy spread over three days between her and the Warren Commission. Altogether, she gave three different reasons as to why she copied the letter. She finally decided on this: since Oswald left it on her secretary desk, he must have wanted her to read it! The shifting and unconvincing excuses all seem a way to disguise and obfuscate one simple but revealing fact: she was spying on Oswald. And this spying went as far as copying his private correspondence without his permission. (For who she is spying and why is, of course, never broached.) Further, her copy of the letter differs in some interesting ways from the typewritten one. As the author notes, it de-emphasizes Oswald’s contacts with the communist embassies. Instead, it emphasizes his differences with the FBI. It also replaces the pregnant phrase “time to complete our business” with phrases like “time to assist me” referring to a travel process. (p. 233) Amazingly, it was this Ruth Paine version of the letter — not the one Oswald allegedly typed and mailed — that the Warren Commission used in its analysis of what the correspondence meant. The Commission then returned Oswald’s rough draft, the one Ruth copied, not to Marina, but to Ruth. According to Carol Hewett, Ruth’s handwritten copy is nowhere to be found today. (Hewett interview, 4/8/08)

    There are many fascinating aspects to Ruth Paine’s role with this letter. So many that one could write a lengthy essay about it. One thing I wish to point out here. The FBI could not make their version of the letter public since it would have revealed their intercept program. Clearly, the State Department did not want to reveal their version. Because by November 26th, Johnson had decided to bury the allegations about Oswald in Mexico City to avoid the threat of conflagration. But by Ruth Paine’s spying on Oswald, it was possible to circulate a softer version of the letter, thus further labeling him a communist who had problems with American authority. Douglass has finally brought this episode, and Ruth Paine’s role in it, into bold relief.

    I do have some reservations about the book. Let me note them briefly. Douglass, like several others before him, couldn’t resist mentioning and misinterpreting David Morales’ remarks as quoted by Gaeton Fonzi in The Last Investigation. (p. 57) Second, he places more faith in some assassination witnesses than I do, e.g. Ed Hoffmann. And I disagree with his characterization of JFK as a ‘cold warrior” who “turned” during the Missile Crisis. If Kennedy was actually a cold warrior when he entered office, he would have sent in the Navy and Marines to complete the job at the Bay of Pigs. Which is what a real cold warrior, Richard Nixon, told him to do. He also would have sent combat troops into Vietnam in 1961, when all of his advisers said it was necessary.

    But overall, and overwhelmingly, this is a rich, rewarding, and reverberating book. One that does two things that very few volumes in the field do: it both illuminates and empowers the reader. I strongly recommend purchasing it. It is the best book in the field since Breach of Trust.

  • David Halberstam, The Best and the Brightest, Part 2

    David Halberstam, The Best and the Brightest, Part 2


    David Halberstam and The Second Biggest Lie Ever Told:

    A Look Back at The Best and the Brightest

    Part Two: Halberstam and Johnson


    dh vn
    Halberstam in Vietnam
    L B Johnson Model Khe Sanh
    LBJ with Vietnam model

    As I noted in Part 1 of this retrospective review of The Best and the Brightest, one of the most surprising lacunae in this celebrated book is that David Halberstam never mentions or references National Security Action Memorandum 263. This was President Kennedy’s directive that ordered the beginning of the US military withdrawal from Vietnam. This was to begin in December of 1963 with the removal of a thousand troops, and then continue in a phased way until 1965, when it would be completed i.e. all American troops would be back home. It is quite odd that in a book that spends over 300 pages discussing Kennedy’s policy on Vietnam, Halberstam could not find the space to mention this important directive. Especially in light of the fact that it had been in the works for quite awhile. Halberstam does mention that Kennedy had told John K. Galbraith to give him a report about Vietnam. But he confines this report to the dustbin by saying that Galbraith was mere window dressing and was on the periphery of Kennedy’s administration. (Halberstam, p. 152) When in fact, as mentioned in Part 1, the opposite was true about Galbraith’s report. It was the origin point for Kennedy’s instructions to Bob McNamara to begin a withdrawal plan.

    But there is something equally surprising about what Halberstam leaves out of his discussion of President Johnson’s conduct of the war. Except this lacuna comes at the beginning of his review of LBJ’s policy, not at the end. And because of that, it makes it even more significant. That is this: Halberstam never mentions or references National Security Action Memorandum 273. This is very surprising since as many writers have noted, NSAM 273 altered NSAM 263, at the same time it tried to state that it was not doing so. In his milestone book on the subject, John Newman spends over four pages discussing just how significant a change in policy Johnson’s new directive was. (JFK and Vietnam, pgs. 445-449) To name three of the most significant alterations:

    1. It allowed for direct US Navy involvement in OPLAN 34 patrols off the coast of North Vietnam. This would result in the Tonkin Gulf incident.
    2. It allowed for expanded American operations into Laos and Cambodia.
    3. While saying it would honor the troop reductions in NSAM 263, it did not. They were not carried out and the number of American advisers actually rose in the months after Kennedy’s murder.

    For an author to write nearly 700 pages on Kennedy, Johnson and Vietnam, and to never even mention NSAM’s 263 and 273–let alone discuss them–this is so bizarre as to be inexplicable. Again, it is censorship of such an extreme degree that it distorts history.

    But it is indicative of what Halberstam does to cloud the break in policy that occurred after Kennedy’s death. Take another instance: the first Vietnam meeting after Kennedy’s death. This happened just 48 hours after the assassination, on November 24th. (Newman pgs. 442-45) It is very difficult to locate this meeting in Halberstam’s book. In fact, you will not find it where you would expect to, in Chapter 16, the first one dealing with LBJ’s presidency. Where you will find a mention of it is at the end of Chapter 15, on pages 298-99. Where, ostensibly, Halberstam is wrapping up his view of Kennedy and Vietnam. By placing it there, Halberstam connotes some kind of continuity between the two men. What he does with the meeting constitutes even more censorship and distortion.

    He clearly tries to imply that this meeting was between only Johnson and Saigon ambassador Henry Cabot Lodge. (Halberstam, p. 298) And that Lodge had returned to Washington to give a report on deteriorating conditions in Vietnam. Not so. Kennedy brought Lodge back to Washington for the express purpose of firing him. (James Douglass, JFK and the Unspeakable, pgs. 374-75) Part of the reason for the termination was Lodge’s role in the demise of Ngo Dinh Diem and his brother Nhu. This is a continuation of Halberstam’s misrepresentations about Lodge. For he also says that Kennedy appointed him ambassador so as to involve the GOP in what could end up as a disaster. (Halberstam, p. 260) False. Kennedy didn’t want to appoint Lodge at all. He wanted his old friend Edmund Gullion as Saigon ambassador. This was vetoed by Dean Rusk who wanted Lodge appointed. (Douglass, pgs. 150-52)

    The point is that with Kennedy now dead, Lodge was not fired. He delivered his message to Johnson about how bad things were in Saigon. He then took part in a larger meeting—one that is completely absent from The Best and the Brightest. As John Newman notes, this meeting was attended by Secretary of State Dean Rusk, Defense Secretary Robert McNamara, Under Secretary of State George Ball, National Security Advisor McGeorge Bundy, and CIA Director John McCone. It was led by Johnson. (Newman, p. 442) In other words, the entire national security apparatus was on hand to hear a new tone and attitude on the subject of Vietnam. Phrases that JFK would never have uttered. LBJ said things like, “I am not going to lose in Vietnam”, “I am not going to be the president who saw Southeast Asia go the way that China went” , “Tell those generals in Saigon that Lyndon Johnson intends to stand by our word”. (ibid) The change was so clear that McCone wrote in his notes: “I received in this meeting the first “President Johnson tone” for action as contrasted with the “Kennedy tone”. (ibid, p. 443) Demarcating a break with the past, LBJ also said that he had “never been happy with our operations in Vietnam” (ibid) In his book, In Retrospect, McNamara said that Johnson’s intent was clear at this meeting. Instead of beginning to withdraw, LBJ was going to win the war. (p. 102) This message then filtered downward into each department. Which was a reversal of the message Kennedy had been giving after the May 1963 SecDef meeting in Hawaii. Back then, the generals and everyone else understood that any proposal for overt action would invite a negative Presidential decision. (Probe Vol. 5 No. 3)

    Question: Are we to believe that Halberstam, in his 500 interviews, did not interview any of these men about this meeting?

    Now, Johnson understood that McNamara was the key to securing his desired change in policy. Since McNamara had been the point man behind the scenes and to the media about Kennedy’s intent to withdraw. So in February of 1964, LBJ made sure McNamara would be on board the new train. In a declassified tape that is transcribed in the James Blight book, Virtual JFK, LBJ told McNamara, “I always thought it was foolish for you to make any statements about withdrawing. I thought it was bad psychologically. But you and the president thought otherwise, and I just sat silent.” (Blight, p. 310) For those who have heard this tape, one of the most shocking things about it is McNamara’s near-silent bewilderment as to what is happening. And in another conversation two weeks later, LBJ actually wants McNamara to take back or rephrase what he said in 1963 about the initial thousand man withdrawal. (ibid)

    These conversations completely vitiate another argument that Halberstam likes to make throughout the book. Namely that Johnson was somehow subservient to the advisors left over from Kennedy’s cabinet. In one of the most dubious passages in the book, Halberstam says that LBJ was in awe of these men and judged them by their labels. (Halberstam, p. 303) As he usually does, he then tops this silliness by saying that McNamara was the most forceful figure on Vietnam policy in early 1964. (p. 347) The strong implication being that somehow LBJ bowed to his advisers in making decisions on Vietnam. The evidence adduced above—avoided by Halberstam—completely undermines that thesis. Clearly, by the evidence of this first meeting, and the taped talks with McNamara, Johnson is the one commandeering them. In fact, as we shall see, LBJ often decided to proceed with steps in his escalation plan without their advice at all. And this was one thing that led to the exodus from the White House by McCone, Ball, Bundy and McNamara.

    Virtually all of the above, clearly indicating a break in policy, is notably absent from The Best and the Brightest. In Halberstam’s defense, one can argue that some of these taped conversations had not yet been declassified. But on the other hand, the man said he did 500 interviews. He had to have talked to someone at that November 24th meeting besides Lodge. Did he not even talk to Ken O’Donnell and Dave Powers? They had both been with Kennedy for years, from the beginning of his political career. They were in the White House for these decisions on Vietnam under both Kennedy and Johnson. They could have told Halberstam about NSAM 263, McNamara’s announcement about the thousand-troop withdrawal, and the plans for complete withdrawal by 1965. They also would have told him that Johnson changed all this within days of taking office. How do we know they would have told him so? Because they wrote about all this in their book about Kennedy, Johnny We Hardly Knew Ye. Which was published in 1972, the same year that The Best and the Brightest was published. (O’Donnell and Powers, pgs. 13-18)

    Halberstam covered his tracks well. By not listing the interviews he did, the author prevented anyone from checking on 1.) Whom he actually talked to, and 2.) What they told him.

    II

    As noted above, Halberstam eliminates Kennedy’s NSAM 263, the discussion and announcement about it, and NSAM 273, which LBJ used to partially subvert it. He also, for all intents and purposes, virtually discounts the November 24th first Vietnam meeting held by President Johnson–which also signaled a drastic change in policy. A change that was later noted by McGeorge Bundy: “The President has expressed his deep concern that our effort in Vietnam be stepped up to highest pitch.” (Gordon Goldstein, Lessons in Disaster, p. 105) As Goldstein astutely notes, the changes in tone, attitude, and emphasis were not just rhetorical. Within a little over three months, Kennedy’s withdrawal plan would be more than assigned to oblivion. A whole new plan for waging war would be put in its place.

    Goldstein does a nice job summarizing the steps that Johnson took to get there. He first sent McNamara to Saigon to render a report on the conditions in country. Since McNamara got the message at the 11/24 meeting, and since the intelligence reports had now been altered to reflect true conditions, at Christmas 1963, McNamara brought back a negative report. (ibid, p. 107) One month later, after McNamara relayed this report, the Joint Chiefs sent a proposal to Johnson on how to save the day: bombing of the north and insertion of combat troops. (ibid, p. 108) As Goldstein writes, “Exactly two months after Kennedy’s death, the chiefs were proposing air strikes against Hanoi and the deployment of US troops, not just in an advisory role, but in offensive operations against the North. The Joint Chiefs of Staff were proposing…the initial steps to Americanize the Vietnam War.” (ibid, p. 108) LBJ turned down this proposal. Not for the reasons Kennedy had years before. But because he did not have congress on board as a partner. At least not yet. (ibid, p. 109) But he did order the preparation of NSAM 288.

    First proposed in early March during a discussion between the Joint Chiefs and Johnson, NSAM 288 included both air and naval elements, to directly participate in the targeting of up to 94 military and industrial sites. In addition, it proposed the mining of harbors, imposition of a naval blockade, and in case China intervened, the use of nuclear weapons. (ibid, p. 108) In other words, it was a full order of battle. Thus, LBJ had achieved in a bit over three short months what Kennedy had resisted for three years.

    It takes Goldstein about ten pages to proceed from Kennedy’s assassination to the construction of NSAM 288. It takes Halberstam over fifty pages to do the same. How does he delay this for so long?

    With a very disturbing and recurring characteristic of the book: the insertion of the mini-biography. Often, whether its apropos or not, Halberstam completely stops the narrative flow of the book to insert a biography of someone. Whether or not that person is relevant to the story at that time, or really had any influence over events is not important. Chapter 16 is where the author begins his discussion of Johnson’s presidency. But NSAM 288, even though it was proposed a bit over three months after LBJ took the oath, is not in that chapter. What does Halberstam deem as being more important than LBJ’s plan for American forces to directly attack North Vietnam? Well, for starters, how about a biography of Dean Rusk. This goes on for about fifteen pages. (Halberstam pgs. 307-322) He actually calls Rusk a liberal. (p. 309) He then praises him at Kennedy’s expense. (p. 322) This is a man who JFK was actually going to fire. But then, as he often does, Halberstam tops himself. After this, he segues into a biography of, if you can believe it, Dean Acheson! I yawned and sighed through these biographical pages. To me it was nothing but pointless filler. And it accents a real weakness in Halberstam: He loved hearing himself talk. Whether what he was saying was relevant or not. In reality, what these two mini-biographies do is slow down the impact of Johnson’s fast reversal of policy. Because what LBJ is now planning—direct US attacks on North Vietnam—is something that Kennedy never even contemplated.

    Let me add two points here as to what Halberstam actually does with all this filler and obfuscation. By giving us all this irrelevant biography, he seems to be saying that knowing that Dean Rusk admired George Marshall is somehow more important than describing to the reader NSAM 273. Or showing how this directive impacted NSAM 263. In other words, when writing history, most documents do not matter. Which is the opposite of what most historians think: the documented historical record supersedes an oral recall.

    For two reasons. First, memory can always be faulty. Second, depending on who is doing the remembering, memory can be selective. But by leaving out so many important documents, and by not describing key events, like LBJ’s first meeting on Vietnam, Halberstam can foster absurd tenets. One of the most absurd comes at the very end of Chapter 16, which is supposed to be about LBJ’s early handling of the war. It is not. But the author ends the chapter by saying that 1964 was a lost year, and much of the loss was the fault of Dean Rusk. (p. 346)

    Both of these proclamations—that 1964 was a lost year, and it was attributable to Rusk—are just plain false. Many authors—like Fredrik Logevall– would argue that 1964 was the key year of the war. Johnson was not just stopping Kennedy’s withdrawal, but he was mapping out plans to use American forces in theater. Which amounts to a sea change. Second, Rusk had little to do with this. It was done by Johnson in cooperation with the Pentagon. After LBJ had turned McNamara around.

    As we have seen, and will see, Rusk was not even a major player in what was happening that year. The major player was Johnson. And far from being lost, LBJ was putting his plans together for the Americanization of the Vietnam War.

    III

    Another way that Halberstam camouflages the difference on Vietnam between Kennedy and Johnson is by using another preposterous proclamation. At the beginning of Chapter 16 he writes the following: “The decision in those early months was to hold the line on Vietnam. To hold it down and delay decisions.” (p. 303) Question for Mr. Halberstam: You yourself say that NSAM 288 was constructed in March of 1964. How was that holding the line on Vietnam? It completely broke with Kennedy’s previous policy. How could you not notice that?

    Actually, it is worse than that. NSAM 288 is only half the story. What LBJ did with it afterwards is the other half. This is another part of the story that Halberstam both misrepresents and underplays.

    After NSAM 288 was orally accepted by Johnson from the Chiefs, he then called McGeorge Bundy. (Goldstein pgs. 108-09. In itself that sequence of events tells us something.) Although he had accepted NSAM 288 in principle, he saw two impediments to utilizing it. First, he did not have a congressional resolution on his side. Therefore he had no legislative partner to go to war with. Secondly, he told Bundy, “And for nine months I’m just an inherited—I’m a trustee. I’ve got to win an election. “ (ibid, p. 109) This, of course, is what happened—in that order. Johnson got his resolution. He won his election by campaigning as a moderate peace candidate . After lying to the public about his intentions, he then went to war.

    In reading The Best and the Brightest, these steps all seem haphazard, coincidental, willy-nilly. This impression is achieved because the author never makes clear one of the most important aspects of Johnson’s alterations to NSAM 273. As John Newman points out, when LBJ was presented with the rough draft of the directive, he altered it in more ways than one. Paragraph seven had originally stated that South Vietnam should begin to build a maritime war apparatus . Johnson’s alterations now allowed for the USA to plan and execute its own maritime operations against the North. (Newman, JFK and Vietnam, p. 446) This alteration, specifically requested by Johnson, now paved the way for direct American attacks via a covert action plan called OPLAN 34 A. This was submitted to the White House one month later.. (ibid) This plan included a joint CIA/Pentagon action that allowed for American destroyers to patrol the coast of North Vietnam accompanied by small attack boats piloted by South Vietnamese sailors. The idea was that the smaller boats would fire on the north and the American destroyers would then record the North Vietnamese response to figure out what capabilities the enemy had.

    Clearly, the concept of the idea was a provocation to the North. It was inviting them to attack us in retaliation. As Edwin Moise points out, LBJ approved it because he had already made the decision that NSAM 288 would be carried out in the near future. This was his way of negating any attacks from hawkish GOP presidential contenders like Barry Goldwater or Richard Nixon. (Moise, Tonkin Gulf and the Escalation of the Vietnam War, p. 26) As Moise delineates, LBJ then further refined NSAM 288’s planning to include war campaign time intervals and the passage of a congressional resolution. (Moise, p. 27)

    This was all finalized in May and June of 1964, with the finishing touches placed on it by William Bundy. In June, Johnson began to lobby certain key members of congress for its passage. (Moise, p. 26) It is important to recall, this is almost two months before the Tonkin Gulf incident. In fact, on June 10th, McNamara said, “that in the event of a dramatic event in Southeast Asia we would go promptly for a congressional resolution.” (ibid) But since LBJ had to play the moderate in order to get re-elected, Bill Bundy added that the actual decision to expand the war would not be made until after the election. (Moise p. 44) This, of course, was a lie. With the writing of NSAM 288—something unthinkable under Kennedy–the decision to expand the war was already made. But since it was classified, the lie had wings. The actual campaign to fight the war was delayed only for political reasons. As Newman pointed out, Johnson was concealing his escalation plan so as not to lose his 1964 electoral base in the Democratic Party.

    Just about all of this is either absent from, or seriously discounted by Halberstam. Clearly, these events were not haphazard. They were connected in a straight line: the alterations to NSAM 273 led to OPLAN 34A; the drafting of NSAM 288 led to the lobbying for passage of a congressional resolution. All that was needed now was for the provocation strategy to succeed. That is for the “dramatic event” to take place so the resolution could be pushed through congress.

    This all renders ridiculous Halberstam’s idea that “the decision in those early months” was to hold the line on Vietnam. It also renders superfluous Halberstam’s insistence on giving us biographies of Dean Acheson and John Paton Davies in lieu of what the Johnson administration was really working on in the three months after Kennedy was murdered i.e. planning for America’s entry into the war.

    IV

    As noted previously, with all the above in place, what was needed was a “dramatic event”. Halberstam says that the Gulf of Tonkin incident traces back to January of 1964., when the plans for OPLAN 34A were being worked out. (p. 408) As noted above, this is false. Because those January plans would not have been contemplated under President Kennedy. They actually originated in the alterations Johnson made to the draft of NSAM 273 in November of 1963. Bundy told Newman that these alterations were directed by Johnson since LBJ “held stronger views on the war than Kennedy did.” (Newman, p. 445)

    Halberstam also mischaracterizes the purpose of these covert operations. He writes that they were meant to “make Hanoi pay a little for its pressure on the South, to hit back at the enemy, to raise morale in the South….” (Halberstam p. 408) Again, this is wrong. As Edwin Moise writes, outside of the South Vietnamese sailors on the fast attack speedboats, everything about these so-called DESOTO patrols was American. An important part of the mission was to “show the flag.” (Moise, p. 55) The North Vietnamese knew that the South Vietnamese did not have destroyer ships. Further, the destroyers violated the territorial waters of North Vietnam. Thus, as many authors have written, the design and action of these missions was a provocation. It was a way for the USA to get directly involved in a civil war. (Moise,p. 68) Even people in Johnson’s administration, like John McCone and Jim Forrestal, later admitted they were such. (Goldstein, p. 125)

    Halberstam then completely screws up the tandem nature of the missions. The destroyers and the speedboats worked together. The speedboats made the attacks. The destroyers were then meant to monitor the reactions in order to locate things like radar capability. Halberstam tries to separate the two from each other and he even tries to say the destroyers actually simulated attacks. (Halberstam, p. 411)

    To finish off his poor representation of what happened at Tonkin, he actually tries to insinuate that Johnson wanted to wait for more accurate information about what happened. (Halberstam, p. 412-13) In fact, after taking the August 2nd incident quite lightly, Johnson ordered a second mission the next day, which included violating territorial waters. (Moise, 105) He then marched down to Bundy’s office before he even knew what happened on the second patrol. (Goldstein, p. 126) He told Bundy to take out the draft resolution prepared by his brother William. Bundy told him, “Mr. President, we ought to think about this.” Johnson replied, “I didn’t ask you what you thought, I told you what to do.” (ibid)

    Now, there is another aspect of Tonkin Gulf that demonstrates just how intent Johnson was on protecting his right flank during an election year. Johnson took out the target list from NSAM 288 and picked out what he wanted to hit. It was late at night. But since he wanted to get on national television, he made the announcement on live TV anyway. This announcement alerted North Vietnam to the incoming planes, so they prepared their anti-aircraft batteries. Because of Johnson’s desire to announce the attacks on TV before they took place, two pilots were shot down. (Moise, p. 219) After the air sorties, a jubilant Johnson said, “I didn’t just screw Ho Chi Minh, I cut his pecker off.” (Logevall, p. 205)

    Johnson then lied to Sen. Bill Fulbright of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. Fulbright was running the hearings on the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution. Johnson told him that OPLAN 34A was a South Vietnam operation. (Moise, p. 227) This did the trick. The resolution sailed through both houses almost without a nay vote. Johnson’s plan to get congress on board as his war partner had worked. LBJ proudly proclaimed about his congressional resolution that it was like grandma’s nightie. It covered everything. (Logevall, p. 205)

    What was the total destruction caused by the North Vietnamese attacks? One bullet through one hull. And the second attack, the one LBJ would not wait to hear about, did not occur. In other words, over one bullet in a hull, Johnson was ready to go to war. This was the man who proclaimed repeatedly that “We seek no wider war.” (Logevall, p. 199)

    How dim is Halberstam on this whole scenario for war? He quotes Walt Rostow as saying that things could not have turned out better if they had been planned that way. (Halberstam, p. 414) The author does not note the irony. They had been planned that way.

    Keeping all this in mind, let us recall what Halberstam wrote in introducing the Johnson administration and their attitude toward Vietnam. He wrote that they decided not to deal with Vietnam in 1964 but to keep their options open. (p. 307)

    He apparently wrote that with a straight face.

    V

    Now, as both Logevall and Goldstein note, Johnson had opportunities to begin negotiations throughout 1964. Goldstein concisely points out that there were other views being expressed at this time about Vietnam. Luminaries like journalist Walter Lippmann, French Premier Charles DeGaulle, and Senator Richard Russell were all pushing for a neutralization plan, something like Kennedy had done in Laos. DeGaulle specifically warned George Ball that the longer the USA stayed in Vietnam, the more painful and humiliating their exit would be. Not only did Johnson ignore their entreaties, as time went on he began to feel personal hostility towards journalists and heads of state who tried to press him on this issue. (Logevall, Choosing War, pgs. 143, 176) He even ostracized people inside the White House who advised him against escalation e.g. Vice President Hubert Humphrey. (ibid, p. 170) All this, even though the North made it clear that it was willing to talk. They actually offered a cease-fire in return for negotiations, which included the NLF—the political arm of the Viet Cong—at the table. (ibid, p. 163) Other countries, like Canada, asked to broker a meeting. Leaders like U Thant at the UN tried to get talks going. Johnson would not seriously entertain these. (Logevall, p. 211)

    As Logevall makes clear in his book, Johnson was so intent on getting America directly involved in Vietnam, he seriously contemplated attacking the North in May of 1964. (ibid, p. 147) But national opinion did not favor such an attack at the time. So Johnson did something that Halberstam either does not know about, or he deliberately ignored. He ordered a propaganda campaign to change attitudes on a US war in Vietnam. Run out of the State Department, it was two pronged. One axis was aimed at domestic opinion, and the other at foreign opinion. It was actually memorialized in NSAM 308. (ibid, p. 152) In other words, the administration was now trying to psychologically indoctrinate the public, and international opinion, into accepting a war climate with Hanoi. In fact, when Halberstam’s liberal, Dean Rusk, visited Williams College in June, he called South Vietnam as important to America and the free world as West Berlin. (Logevall, p. 168) Rusk also tried to pick up international allies for the coming conflict he understood was around the corner. He was remarkably unsuccessful.

    As Logevall makes clear, LBJ and Bill Bundy had already targeted a date for the direct American intervention in Vietnam. It was in January of 1964. (Logevall, p. 217) This, of course, was after the election. Yet, by the summer of 1964, Johnson had reports on his desk telling him just how difficult the war would be. And this is actually something Halberstam does a good job at. There was one report which told him that a bombing campaign would have little effect on the North since there were few industrial centers to hit. ( Halberstam, p. 356) There were two studies concerning the effect of combat troops in country. They both said it would take over 500, 000 men 5-10 years to subdue the enemy. (pgs. 370, 462) In the face of all this, Johnson still refused to contemplate negotiations or withdrawal. And he pressed forward with his propaganda campaign and his plans for war. Being advised in advance, what it would cost and that American air power would not have a deciding impact. And as Logevall acutely notes, Johnson kept all of this from the public so it would not become an election issue. Goldwater became the war candidate and LBJ the peace candidate. In the last days of his campaign Johnson said he wanted to “stay out of a shooting war” and that he was working for a peaceful solution. (Logevall, p. 250) On the campaign trail he also repeated the axiom that he was not going to “send American boys to fight a war Asian boys should fight for themselves.” (ibid, p. 253)

    Of course, the opposite was the case. But Halberstam cannot bring himself to admit that LBJ lied his head off about his true intentions in Vietnam. He makes excuses for him, saying that he misremembered certain details in his book The Vantage Point. Halberstam also says that the changes that took place in 1964 took place “very subtly”. (Halberstam p. 361) There is nothing subtle about lying a country into a war. Logevall manages an honesty that Halberstam cannot match: “If an American president had ever promised anything to the American people, then Lyndon Johnson had promised to keep the United States out of the war in Vietnam.” (Logevall, p. 253)

    The exact opposite happened. In another key event that Halberstam could not find with his 500 interviews, on the day of the election, Johnson’s war planning committee met to begin debating how to implement the plans for an expanded American war in Vietnam. (Logevall, p. 258) This from the candidate who had just said that he was seeking no wider war.

    The truly incredible thing about this is that as late as November of 1964, LBJ could still have gotten out. He had huge Democratic majorities in both houses of congress that would have covered him on this. Many popular and influential senators did not favor American entry e.g. Mike Mansfield, Frank Church, Gaylord Nelson, Bill Fulbright, Richard Russell etc. Lippmann was still advising him from his newspaper column not to attack the North. Knowing LBJ was preparing for war, both England and France advised him not to. Only 24% of the public favored sending in combat troops, while over half favored withdrawal. Most of the major newspapers favored not going to war, including the New York Times and Washington Post. (Logevall, pgs. 277-284) Later on even Bill Bundy admitted that Johnson could have gotten out at this point without taking a huge hit in popularity. (ibid, p. 288) Again, in patching together his phony “inevitable tragedy” scenario, Halberstam ignores all this. The apparent reason being that it does not support his thesis of inevitability.

    What it really tells us is that Vietnam was inevitable because Lyndon Johnson made it so.

    VI

    Halberstam takes every opportunity he can to disguise and obfuscate what was really happening in 1964. In addition to the instances written about above, in a passage describing 1964 as it progressed and ended, he actually begins the paragraph with this: “In the country and in the government, however, there was no clear sense of going to war.” (p. 399) From his 500 interviews, the author still did not understand that yes, most of the country did not understand we were going to war. That’s because President Johnson understood he had to be elected in order to go to war. But Johnson, and his upper echelon, sure as heck knew we were going to war.

    On this same page, Halberstam makes one of the most dubious parallels in this entire book. He says that the planning for Vietnam was derived from the Cuban Missile Crisis. (Halberstam, p. 399. He actually says this more than once.) This makes me wonder if he ever read anything about the Missile Crisis. Because there was no planning for the Missile Crisis. It was an emergency, impromptu thirteen-day crisis situation. And it could have immediately triggered an exchange of nuclear weapons. For as we know today, if Kennedy had decided to invade, the Russians had given Castro tactical atomic weapons. And these were under the control of the Cubans, not the Russians.

    On the other hand, American entry into Vietnam had been talked about by three administrations since 1954 and the Battle of Dien Bien Phu. There was no compelling crisis since Vietnam posed no immediate threat to the USA. For the simple reason that it was so distant and Hanoi had no nuclear weapons. Further, during the Missile Crisis, from the beginning, Kennedy asked for the input of all his advisers about the issue. Realizing that the vast majority of them—most of all the Pentagon—wanted to attack Cuba in some way, he decided on the least provocative action, the naval blockade. He then decided to go around his Cabinet, including Johnson, and arrange a back channel to the Russians to reach a settlement. All in less than two weeks.

    This is almost a negative template of what happened with LBJ and Vietnam. As seen above, from the first meeting, Johnson was not soliciting input. He was dictating what his advisers would do. He then, for thirteen months, exhibited no real desire to negotiate. Instead, he put together a battle plan. And he then tried to indoctrinate the country to it. At the first and slightest provocation, in the Tonkin Gulf, he then used American air power. And in Johnson’s case, the provocation was made by the USA. Kennedy had two opportunities during the Missile Crisis to do this: a U-2 shoot down and a Russian ship firing at an American ship. He did not. Even though the Russians had created the provocation by moving in the missiles. And, of course, there was no American attack, and it all ended peacefully. In fact, many believe it inaugurated a new attempt at détente between Russia, Cuba and the USA.

    Again, Halberstam ignores all these salient points to argue something that seems contrary to the actual facts. I think he does this to imply that somehow there was continuity between Kennedy and Johnson here. In other words, LBJ had not just Kennedy’s advisers, he used his model. Even though he did not.

    Now, as discussed above, the administration had already planned to begin the war in January of 1965. Yet even in January, Sen. Russell made a speech asking for a third country mediator to arrange a settlement. (Logevall, p. 300) At this time, Johnson was actually cabling Ambassador Maxwell Taylor to start getting Americans out of South Vietnam since the war was impending. (ibid) Finally realizing that LBJ was about to begin direct and sustained American offensives, several senators requested open hearings: George McGovern, Mike Mansfield, Richard Russell, Fulbright, Everett Dirksen, Albert Gore, Wayne Morse, Ernest Gruening, Gaylord Nelson etc. (Logevall, p. 305) Johnson sent Rusk to talk to Fulbright in order to stifle any open debate in the Senate. Johnson could not begin his long planned for war with open hearings attracting the attention of the national media. And it was this delay that probably made Johnson miss his January target date by a month.

    Halberstam leaves the above out of his narrative and instead describes the McGeorge Bundy visit to South Vietnam and the famous attack at Pleiku in early February while Bundy was there. (Halberstam, p. 520) This attack by the Viet Cong injured and killed several American advisers, and wounded scores more. (Goldstein, p. 155) Bundy sent back a memo on this incident that recommended air strikes as retaliation. Halberstam makes this Bundy memo into a huge milestone of American involvement in the war. He actually calls it one of the most memorable and important documents on the road to American commitment in Vietnam. In a startling passage, he writes that the paper trail on Vietnam was really not all that important because Johnson liked to use the phone. He essentially discounts use of the Pentagon Papers. (Halberstam, p. 524) But he says the Bundy/Pleiku memo was an exception, and of paramount importance.

    This is simply not true. For two reasons. First, as we have seen, American direct involvement in Vietnam had been decided on months before. Chester Cooper worked on the NSC staff and then under Averill Harriman under both Kennedy and Johnson. He said about this trip, “The problem was Johnson had already made up his mind. For all practical purposes, he had dismissed the option of de-escalating and getting out, but he didn’t want to say that he had, so the rationale for [Bundy’s] trip was this was going to be decisive.” Cooper then adds, but Johnson had “damn well decided already what he was going to do.” (Logevall, p. 319)

    The second problem with Halberstam giving the Pleiku memo so much weight is that Bundy had been a hawk from the beginning. Back in 1961, during Kennedy’s two-week debate over sending in combat troops, Bundy had drafted his “swimming pool memo” to the president. It is called that because Bundy began with this: “But the other day at the swimming pool you asked me what I thought and here it is. We should now agree to send about one division when needed for military action inside Vietnam…I would not put in a division for morale purposes.” (Goldstein, p. 62) Bundy then went on to make an utterly astonishing statement: “Laos was never really ours after 1954. South Vietnam is and wants to be.” (ibid) He then continued by saying that most everyone else, including Johnson, wanted to insert ground troops. Therefore Kennedy’s reluctance puzzled him: “I am troubled by your most natural desire to act on other items now, without taking the troop decision. Whatever the reasons, this has now become a sort of touchstone of our will.” (ibid, p. 63)

    There is little doubt that this memo convinced Kennedy that he had to go around Bundy to accomplish his goal of withdrawing from Vietnam. Which he did. I could not locate this memo in Halberstam’s book. Neither could I find the fact that Bundy had sent a rough draft to Johnson of the February 1964 Pleiku Memo on the second day of his trip. Yet, the attack on Pleiku occurred on the fourth and last day. (Logevall, p. 320) Finally, when Bundy got back to Washington, Johnson had his memo recommending retaliation in his hand. He looked up from his bed at his National Security Advisor and said, ”Well, isn’t that all decided?” (Goldstein, p. 158)

    Goldstein then adds something important that Halberstam completely misses. Johnson recalled all copies of Bundy’s Pleiku report. He in fact told Bundy to lie about its existence. (ibid) Why? Because what Bundy was actually proposing was an air campaign. Johnson did not believe in a war that was based from the sky. As Goldstein writes, Johnson used to say that “Ol’ Ho isn’t gonna give in to any airplanes.” (Goldstein, p. 159) But Saigon Ambassador Maxwell Taylor was opposed to ground troops. (ibid)

    The way Johnson finessed this was to go ahead and begin the bombing campaign in February. He knew two things would follow. First, the air campaign would not be effective. Second, that theater commander Gen. Westmoreland would then request ground troops for air base security. And this is what happened. Therefore, amid great fanfare, the first American ground troops arrived at Da Nang air base in March. Incredibly, as late as February 7th, the day before he approved Flaming Dart, the air retaliation for Pleiku, and a week before he approved the massive air barrage called Rolling Thunder, Johnson said in a speech that he was still not seeking a wider war. (Logevall, p. 346)

    It therefore took just eight months from the Tonkin Gulf incident to begin a full-scale war against North Vietnam. And the only reason it took that long is because Johnson had to lie around the election campaign. How does Halberstam slow this incredible galloping pace into slow motion? His usual technique. The insertion of the biography. Between Tonkin and Flaming Dart come two long biographies. The first is of Lyndon Johnson and takes up almost all of Chapter 20, or nearly thirty pages. The second biography is of Max Taylor and it subsumes almost all of Chapter 21, or nearly 15 pages. (If you can believe it, the biography of Taylor is just about twice as long as Halberstam’s discussion of the key Gulf of Tonkin incident.) With 45 pages of mostly filler, you can sure slow down things. Everything necessary to the narrative about these men could have been told in about five pages.

    After Da Nang the insertion of more combat troops came with amazing speed. Three weeks later Westmoreland requested 20,000 more men. And the mission was altered from base protection to offensive operations. Westmoreland then asked for 82,000 more men. By the end of 1965, less than one year after LBJ’s election, there were 175,000 combat troops in country. Under Kennedy there were none. Incredibly, Halberstam never notes the difference.

    There is another key part of Johnson’s escalation that Halberstam leaves out. It is this: Eisenhower backed him. (Goldstein p. 161) Ike informed Johnson that “he would use any weapons required, adding that if we were to use tactical nuclear weapons, such use would not in itself add to the chance of escalation.” (ibid) As McGeorge Bundy later said, because Johnson was a Cold Warrior and believer in the Domino Theory, he genuinely thought it was crucial to guard South Vietnam for the greater security purposes of Southeast Asia. The two people from whom he gained the most ballast and support from for this mission were Eisenhower and Dean Rusk. (Bundy referred to Rusk as Johnson’s “totally discreet and loyal cultural cousin”. Ibid) But Eisenhower was even more important than Rusk. Johnson felt that with Ike behind him, the dissidents were harmless. And further, Eisenhower stood by Westmoreland’s recommendations from the field. Because Eisenhower was also a believer in the Domino Theory LBJ considered him his most important single political ally. (ibid, p. 162) This is an important part of Johnson’s psychology as he went to war. I think Halberstam leaves it out in order to make it more of a purely Democratic Party affair.

    And there is another key point that Halberstam leaves out. See, 1965 was only the beginning. Because Johnson believed in a land war, he granted the Pentagon each troop request. And as the number began to soar way beyond 175,000 the exodus of former Kennedy staffers began: McCone, Bundy, Ball, and McNamara. This is a phenomenon that Halberstam barely notes. Because it completely undermines one of his theses: That LBJ was in awe of these men and listened to them. (Halberstam, p. 435) This is simply not the case. For instance, even in February of 1964, McNamara questioned a further commitment. (Logevall, p. 127) This is why he had to be talked around by LBJ. As Logevall writes, contrary to what Halberstam postulates, Johnson was not at all intimidated by Bundy, McNamara, and certainly not his pal Rusk. He either overrode them or simply ignored them. For example, Bundy wanted Johnson to be more candid with the public about the true circumstances of the war. Johnson refused. But further, after 1965, when LBJ continued to commit tens of thousands of combat troops, it became clear that Johnson was not listening to his Cabinet. The meetings were pro forma. Because Westmoreland had a secret telegram channel to LBJ. (Goldstein, pgs 214-15) It was through this channel that Westmoreland would make a request, Johnson would grant it, and then he would call a meeting on it. It was all designed to give his advisors the illusion of being heard when they really were not. And this is a main reason why they left one by one.

    VII

    One of the main motifs of The Best and the Brightest is the idea that the collapse of China in 1949 stigmatized the Cold War to such a degree that the USA could not risk losing another Far Eastern country. And the fact that this occurred under President Truman made it a special problem for the Democratic Party. There is little doubt that this is the case for President Johnson. (See Logevall pgs. 76-77) But try and find a quote like this from President Kennedy. Having read several books on the specific subject, that is Kennedy and Vietnam, I cannot recall one by JFK that relates Vietnam to the fall of China. But you can find a slew of quotes that show that Johnson was a dyed in the wool Cold Warrior. For example: “Lyndon Johnson is not going to go down as the president who lost in Vietnam. Don’t you forget that.” (Logevall, p. 77) On February 3, 1964, before Pleiku and Flaming Dart, Johnson told a newspaper reporter that if he chose to withdraw the dominoes would start falling over. “And God Almighty, what they said about us leaving China would just be warming up compared to what they’d say now.” (James Blight, Virtual JFK, p. 211)

    But the great quote on this is what Johnson said in the book Lyndon Johnson and the American Dream. (by Doris Kearns, p. 264) He compared withdrawal in Vietnam to what Neville Chamberlain did at Munich. In other words it would have been appeasement. He then said that, “And I knew that if we let Communist aggression succeed in taking over South Vietnam, there would follow in this country a national debate…that would shatter my presidency, kill my administration, and damage our democracy.” This quite naturally led to a comparison with China and the rise of McCarthyism. And after comparing them LBJ said the loss of Vietnam would have been worse. Kennedy would never have said any such thing. And this is the main reason that Johnson did what he did in Vietnam. But if you discount Kennedy’s early foreign policy views on Algeria, the Congo and Third World nationalism (which I showed Halberstam did in Part 1), and you downplay just what a Cold Warrior LBJ was, then you can further disguise the split in policy.

    In fact, Halberstam glides over an example of this without commenting on it. In 1965, Johnson sent troops to the Dominican Republic to thwart a leftist rebellion against a military junta that had displaced the liberal Juan Bosch. He threatened the rebel leader thusly, “Tell that son of a bitch that unlike the young man who came before me, I am not afraid to use what’s on my hip.” (Halberstam, p. 531) The author makes no comparison comment on this quote. Yet it tells us something about both LBJ and Halberstam. For Kennedy did intercede in the Dominican Republic. It was through diplomatic means and economic sanctions. But it was for Juan Bosch. And it was Kennedy’s actions which, in part, started the rebellion. (Donald Gibson, Battling Wall Street, pgs. 78-79) Johnson sent troops in to back the military junta that Kennedy was against, thereby reversing his policy. Can Halberstam really be ignorant of this? Or does he understand that it undermines his thesis, and this is why he makes no note of it?

    At the end of the book Halberstam tells us that after narrowly beating Gene McCarthy in the New Hampshire primary in 1968, Johnson got the news that he would do even worse in Wisconsin. He then decided to withdraw his candidacy. (Halberstam p. 654) The author then ends the main text of the book by summing up what happened to Max Taylor, Bob McNamara, and McGeorge Bundy. That is, how Vietnam scarred their careers. What he does not say is that none of it would have happened had Kennedy not been assassinated. In fact, that is what all three said later, that Kennedy would not have committed combat troops to Vietnam.

    So as expressed by Mary McCarthy in her January 1973 New York Review of Books critique, the thesis of the book is simply wrong. That is that somehow the Eastern Elitism of the Bundy brothers, combined with the whiz kid can-do mentality of McNamara produced the debacle of Vietnam. The declassified record shows something else. That Kennedy understood that McGeorge Bundy was too hawkish on Vietnam and he decided to go around him. And he had given McNamara the assignment of implementing his withdrawal plan. After he was killed, Johnson then stopped all this and brought in hawks like Walt Rostow and Bill Bundy. By eliminating the primacy of Kennedy and Johnson, what Halberstam is proposing here is sort of like saying that Oliver North ran the Iran/Contra enterprise.

    That was a cover story of course. And what Halberstam does here is essentially a cover story. But it’s a dual cover story. In his book, Halberstam describes a public debate over Vietnam that McGeorge Bundy participated in against LBJ’s wishes. Bundy, the man who Halberstam praises as being so brilliant and perceptive, did not do very well. (Halberstam, p. 620) That is because he really did not understand what was going on in Vietnam. In fact, from the Eisenhower to Nixon administrations, very few men in the whole saga did understand it. There were other people out there who understood what was really happening in Vietnam at a much earlier date. But they were not heard from.

    This fact would have told us something quite telling about the power structure in America and how the Eastern Establishment controlled it. Namely, that many of these men were not nearly as wise, insightful, or perceptive as their sales image said they were. And in fact, they could not be even if they wanted to since this would not advance their careers. In a real way, the Eastern Establishment wanted the Cold War to persist. Even if it produced something as monstrous as Vietnam. And they wanted Vietnam to persist. After all, there were billions to be made.

    President Kennedy, since he had been there as early as 1951, understood what was really happening. Which is why he wanted to get out. Halberstam’s book covers up both these truths: that the cabal entrusted to lead is entirely overrated, and that Kennedy was not one of them. He does so because it’s a truth too radical for someone like Halberstam. Who was never the kind of writer who pushed the envelope. What makes it worse is this: He never tried to amend it. Even after the declassified documents showed that Kennedy was going to withdraw and Johnson stopped it. This, I think, speaks to his intent.

    Michael Morrissey once wrote an essay on this subject which he titled, “The Second Biggest Lie Ever Told”. He explained this as the idea that what Johnson did in Vietnam was a continuation of what Kennedy had done. Morrissey then explained that the biggest lie ever told was that Oswald shot Kennedy. Clearly, the two are inextricably linked.

    The Best and the Brightest played a large role in cementing that second biggest lie. And in my view, as I showed in Part One, the deception was purposeful. Therefore this is not just an obsolete book. It is an intentionally misleading one.


    Back to part One

  • David Halberstam, The Best and the Brightest, Part 1

    David Halberstam, The Best and the Brightest, Part 1


    David Halberstam and The Second Biggest Lie Ever Told:

    A Look Back at The Best and the Brightest

    Part One: Halberstam and Kennedy


    dh ny
    David Halberstam works at his office
    in New York City on May 14, 1993

    David Halberstam died in April of 2007 in Menlo Park, California. He was killed in a three car accident on his way to interview former NFL quarterback Y. A. Tittle for a book he was writing on the famous 1958 NFL Championship game. He was also there to deliver a speech at UC Berkeley about what “it means to turn reporting into a work of history.” (San Francisco Chronicle, 4/23/07)

    Halberstam wrote several books about the sports world, seven to be exact, or about a third of his total output. But he also wrote a number of books that were concerned with contemporary history. For instance, he wrote The Fifties, an examination of that decade, The Children, a chronicle of the Nashville Student Movement of 1959-62, and The Coldest Winter, about America in the Korean War.

    Halberstam won a Pulitzer Prize in 1964 for his reporting on Vietnam. And he wrote two books on that subject: The Making of a Quagmire (1965), and The Best and the Brightest (1972). To read the two books today is a bit schizophrenic. In the first book, the author criticizes the Kennedy administration for, as Bernard Fall wrote, not getting in early enough, fighting smarter, being more aggressive, and therefore making the other side practice self deception. (NY Times, 5/16/65) A major source for that book was Lt. Col. John Paul Vann. Vann had argued very early for the introduction of American combat troops. He had also argued that unless this was done soon, the war was lost since the military was concealing just how bad the Army of South Vietnam (ARVN) really was. For that book, Halberstam was so much in Vann’s camp that he actually seemed to think that the introduction of American forces would actually win the war. (See the Introduction to the 2008 edition by Daniel Singal, p. xi) But in his second book on the subject, he argued the contrary: that America should have never gotten involved in Vietnam, Kennedy should have never sent in advisers, and President Johnson should have never made his huge military commitment.

    The Best and the Brightest clearly made Halberstam’s career. Previewed in two national magazines, between hardcover and paperback sales the book sold nearly 1.8 million copies. When it was first published, with one notable exception, it was met with nearly universal critical acclaim from every quarter. For about two decades, this book served as the standard popular reference work on American involvement in Vietnam. It had such a large impact on the American psyche that it created the way that many Americans saw the war and forged a paradigm through which other authors wrote about it. It would not be much of an exaggeration to say that The Best and the Brightest created a sort of Jungian cyclorama which America stood in front of and visualized the tale of American involvement in Vietnam, which the author wrote was the greatest national tragedy since the Civil War. (Halberstam, p. 667. Unless otherwise noted, all references to the book will be from the original hardcover edition.)

    So how did Halberstam begin writing the book, and how did his perceptions change from 1965 to 1972? In 1967 Halberstam left the New York Times, and went to work at Harper’s. There he wrote a profile of National Security Adviser McGeorge Bundy. In his 2001 preface to the Modern Library edition of this book, the author wrote that it was this article that gave him the idea to do a book about how and why America had gone to war in Vietnam and also about the architects of that involvement. Securing an advance from Random House, he spent the next four years writing the book. In other words, he started his book at the time that Lyndon Johnson’s massive military escalation program was failing in a spectacular way. It was a time when Johnson’s war policies were being criticized by both houses of congress, much of the news media, and by a whole generation of young Americans. The latter were taking to the streets to protest the thousands of young Americans being slaughtered in the rice paddies of Vietnam, before they were even allowed to vote at home.

    Clearly, John Paul Vann’s advice to Halberstam, and those who would listen to him in the Pentagon, was not followed correctly. Obviously, Halberstam took notice, and he altered his viewpoint. Because of that new viewpoint, plus the promotion by Random House, plus the length of the book – well over 600 pages – and its scope, stretching back to the late 1940’s, the book’s publication was a matter of perfect timing. Americans wanted to read about how their country got involved in an epic foreign disaster. And they wanted more than their newspaper’s day-by-day accounts, more than 400 word editorials, more than just grandstanding by ideologues of the left or right.

    Halberstam gave that to them – and more. In its original hardcover printing the book runs to 672 pages of text. It has a six-page bibliography, which is divided up chronologically. But the heart and soul of The Best and the Brightest is the legwork the author did in securing scores of interviews which pepper the book. (The author notes the final tally as 500. Halberstam, p. 669)

    And here emerges one of the first and most serious problems with the volume. The book is not footnoted. Therefore, one does not know where the information one is reading comes from. Does it emerge from a book, magazine article, or an interview? One does not really know. But even worse, Halberstam decided not to even list the names of the people he talked to. Which is really kind of surprising. Especially in light of the fact that so much of the book’s material is based on those sources. This is an important point since Vietnam had become such a controversial subject by the time of the book’s writing. It would have been instructive to know where the author was getting his information, since, in the wake of an epic foreign policy disaster, many people had a lot at stake in covering their tracks.

    Halberstam tried to explain away this curious decision in his Author’s Note at the end of the volume. He first writes that because of the political sensitivity of the subject, a writer’s relation to his source was under challenge. Secondly, he had talked to Daniel Ellsberg, and been subpoenaed by a grand jury in the Pentagon Papers case. What he does not say is that the Pentagon Papers had already been published in book form by the time his work appeared. In other words, the court challenge had failed. Further, from what I can see, there is nothing in his book that came from classified documents. (As we shall see, this is a serious failing of the volume.) Therefore, in any academic discussion of this book, one must weigh Halberstam’s decision to conceal sources against the value of full disclosure. That is, would the reader have benefited from knowing where certain information came from more than the source would have benefited from anonymity. As we shall see, because of the overall thesis of the book, it necessitated full disclosure.

    What is that thesis? As I wrote above, there was one review of the book that was thoroughly and scintillatingly negative.

    This was by Mary McCarthy in the New York Review of Books. (Sons of the Morning, 1/25/73) Let me quote her and then give my refinement to it: “If a clear idea can be imputed to the text, though, it is that an elitist strain in our democracy, represented by the “patrician” Bundy brothers, once implanted in Washington and crossed with the “can-do” mentality represented by McNamara, bred the monster of Vietnam.” As she notes later, what Halberstam was trying to do with his book was to create the image that Vietnam was an inevitable tragedy that America walked into. And by 1966, there was no turning back, since by then the trap had been sprung. LBJ had overcommitted, and he would continue to do so until he had 540,000 combat troops in country. And that huge army would be completely undermined by the shocking effectiveness of the Tet offensive, which some have called the greatest American intelligence failure of the 20th century.

    As we begin to analyze this book, it is important to keep McCarthy’s review in mind. There is no doubt that Halberstam was stung by it. Since he brought it up in his author’s note for the 2001 edition. The key word to remember here is “inevitable.” There can be little doubt that the ultimate effect of the Vietnam War was tragic for both America and Vietnam. But was it inevitable? McCarthy did not think so. Further, she felt that Halberstam had rigged the deck to make it seem that way. She felt that Johnson could have gotten out before he escalated, but that withdrawal for LBJ was never a serious option. She was absolutely right on this point as Fredrick Logevall proved in his fine examination of Johnson’s conduct of the war in 1964-65, Choosing War: The Lost Chance for Peace and the Escalation of War in Vietnam.

    We must note here that McCarthy wrote her withering review in January of 1973. This was after the publication of the Pentagon Papers, but many years before any serious declassification of further documents on the war. That declassification process was accelerated by the release of Oliver Stone’s film JFK. This declassification process has cemented McCarthy’s view of LBJ in regards to Vietnam – he never seriously contemplated withdrawal or a negotiated settlement until 1968. But this declassified record, plus the works built upon that record, shed much light on Halberstam’s discussion of Johnson’s predecessor, President Kennedy, and his conduct of the war. As we shall see, Halberstam’s discussion of Kennedy is as lacking in detail, perspective, and honesty as is his portrayal of Johnson.

    II

    One of the oddest things about The Best and the Brightest is its historical imbalance. The book deals with American involvement in Vietnam from its origins – the aid given to the French in the first Indochina War – up to the Nixon administration, when the book was published. So the book spans a time period of 22 years, from 1950 to 1972. But when one examines its actual contents, the overwhelming majority of pages deal with American involvement under Presidents Kennedy and Johnson. And when I say overwhelming majority, it is literally that. In this entire nearly seven-hundred-page book, the author spends 19 pages on what happened in Vietnam before Kennedy took over; he spends all of three pages on what Nixon did after the election of 1968. (Check for yourself if you don’t believe me: the pages are 79-85, 136-49, 662-65) If you do the arithmetic, this comes to less than three per cent of the book. Yet, as I said, this period amounts to 15 years, twice as long as the Kennedy and Johnson presidencies. And the years before and after contain key parts of the story. It is quite surprising to me that no review of this book that I have seen has ever brought up this important point – not even Mary McCarthy’s. To me, there is really not an excuse for this. The book was published in the middle of 1972. So the author had four years of looking at and reading about what Nixon had done.

    And make no mistake, Nixon had done a lot. The figure of 540,000 combat troops in country came under Nixon, in February of 1969. To aid his Vietnamization program – the turning over of land combat operations to the ARVN – Nixon ordered the expansion of the war with the bombing of Cambodia. He and Henry Kissinger then sent combat troops into that country. This caused the collapse of Prince Sihanouk’s government. And as authors like William Shawcross have shown, it was this overthrow that eventually led to the coming of the Khmer Rouge and the horrible atrocities of Pol Pot. Nixon also sent ARVN ground troops into Laos in 1971. As Jimmy Carter said in his famous Playboy interview, more bombs were dropped on Cambodia and Vietnam under Nixon than under LBJ.

    Further, it was the Nixon administration that did all it could to cover up the fact that the My Lai massacre was part of the huge CIA program of civilian assassination secretly known as Operation Phoenix. This was done by rigging both the military investigation into the atrocity, and by commuting Lt. William Calley’s sentence from life in prison to house arrest. This was done by Nixon himself.

    Finally, as Tony Summers proves in his biography of Nixon, it was Nixon and his backers who deliberately scuttled any kind of peace agreement that Johnson was attempting before he left office. As Jon Weiner notes, this was done for two reasons: 1.) It increased Nixon’s chances of winning a very close election, and 2.) It kept the proxy government alive in South Vietnam, with the contingent promise that they would get a better deal under Nixon. As Professor Weiner notes, this bit of realpolitik treachery probably allowed the war to drag on for years and led to the deaths of around 20,000 Americans and about a million Vietnamese.

    This is some of what Halberstam left out at one end. What about the other end? That is what came before Kennedy and Johnson? This crucial period of early American involvement covers a continuum of eleven years prior to Kennedy’s inauguration. How can one possibly deal with that initial investment in an adequate way in 19 pages? I don’t think any scholar in this field would say that you could. There have been entire books written on just that subject: early American involvement in Vietnam prior to the Kennedy administration. In fact, the entire first volume of the Pentagon Papers, the Gravel Edition, deals with precisely that. It is over 300 pages long.

    The initial American involvement is usually traced from the decision by President Truman and Secretary of State Dean Acheson to recognize the newly propped up French proxy government in Vietnam led by their stand-in Bao Dai. This was done by a letter in February of 1950 which contained both their signatures. (And it also recognized French hegemony in Laos and Cambodia.) As Halberstam points out, this was done in response to the fall of China the year before to Mao Zedong’s communists. With the outbreak in Korea, the commitment was accelerated into a relatively small amount of aid to the French military. As the rebellion against the French, led by Ho Chi Minh and his military chief Vo Nguyen Giap, picked up steam, President Eisenhower and his Secretary of State John Foster Dulles greatly ramped this aid upwards. It is common knowledge today that by 1953, the USA was paying about 75 per cent of the bill to fight the French Indochina War. It was Eisenhower and Dulles who actually gave the French direct aid in air cover in both 1953 and 1954. In fact, at the climactic battle of Dien Bien Phu, 24 CIA pilots flew American planes under French insignia. This mission was a much smaller version of what the French had actually requested from Dulles, and which Vice President Richard Nixon agreed to. As John Prados outlines in his two books The Sky Would Fall, and Operation Vulture, the proposed American plan was to have the Seventh Fleet use 150 fighters to cover the bombing mission of 60 B-29s. The bombing included a contingency plan to use three tactical atomic weapons. How close did it come to happening? Reconnaissance flights were done by the Air Force over the proposed bombing site. President Eisenhower decided he needed approval from London to go ahead with the mission. This was not forthcoming. So, at the last minute, Ike vetoed it.

    From here, it was John Foster Dulles who actually controlled the Geneva Agreements, which ended the First Indochina War in 1954. Dulles coordinated what was essentially a damage control operation. The USA did not sign these agreements, which gave them a fig leaf to violate them. The key point was that the country was to be temporarily divided at the seventeenth parallel and free elections were to be held in 1956 to unify the country under one leader. Dulles knew that the North Vietnamese communist Ho Chi Minh would win these elections in a landslide. So even though Dulles’ representative at the conference read a statement saying that the USA would honor the agreement, and that America would not use force to upset the agreement, this was all a sham. (See Vietnam Documents: American and Vietnamese Views of the War, edited by George Katsiaficas, pgs. 25, 42, 78) Within weeks of the peace conference, Dulles and his CIA Director brother Allen had begun a massive covert operation to guarantee that Ho Chi Minh would not unify the country under communist rule. (ibid, pgs. 26, 73, 132 )They began a colossal propaganda program to scare a million Catholics in the north into fleeing to the south. Why? Because the man the Dulles brothers put in charge of that operation, master black operator Ed Lansdale, decided that the French stand-in, Bao Dai, had to go. Lansdale searched for an American stand-in. He found him at Michigan State. His name was Ngo Dinh Diem and he was a Catholic. He had also been a French sympathizer. Lansdale rigged a plebiscite vote in 1955 to get Diem and his brother Ngo Dinh Nhu into power. As predicted, and instructed, Diem then cancelled the unification election of 1956.

    All of this is absolutely central in understanding what was to come later. For it was these events – Dulles’ play-acting at Geneva, the almost immediate covert operation by Lansdale, the choice of Diem, Lansdale’s fraudulent election that brought him to power – these are what formed the basis of the original direct American commitment. Without them, there very likely would have been no further American involvement in Vietnam. Or if there were, it would have been of a radically different character and degree.

    To say that Halberstam gives these crucial events short shrift is an understatement. And a huge one. If you can believe it, he deals with them in less than two pages. (See pgs. 148-49) Recall, this is a book of almost 700 pages. Yet it grossly discounts what was probably the most important series of events in the growing American commitment to South Vietnam. Why do I say that it was so important? Because Lansdale and Dulles chose a poor long-term candidate for leadership in Diem. Especially when one contrasts him with Ho Chi Minh.

    Many, many writers have described the myriad failures of Diem’s rule: He was a dictator who put thousands of people to death and imprisoned thousands more. He was a blatant nepotist who placed unqualified family members in positions of power. These members then proved to be totally corrupt and enriched themselves at the government trough. As opposed to Ho Chi Minh, he and his family dressed, acted, and worshipped like Westerners. So in addition to the above practices, they could never win over the mass of peasants in the countryside. What antagonized the peasantry even more is that Diem put a halt to the redistribution of land, which had begun after 1954.

    Diem’s unpopularity resulted in two assassination attempts and a coup attempt by 1962. Consequently, with such a leader in place, the American commitment had to mushroom. For the simple reason that Diem inspired very little allegiance to his cause. Mainly since his cause was the perpetuation of his, and his family’s power. This was exhibited by the many cases of election fraud that took place under his aegis.

    By 1960, Diem’s rule posed so many serious problems – for both him and America – that even the American ambassador in Saigon was asking him to make fundamental changes in order to survive. (David Kaiser, American Tragedy: Kennedy, Johnson, and the Origins of the Vietnam War, p.64) For Diem was so unpopular in the countryside that an insurgency was growing against him. The insurgency was called the Viet Cong. In fact, in 1960 the CIA predicted that unless Diem made reforms away from one man rule, secret police forces, and corruption in high places, the Viet Cong insurgency would grow and “almost certainly in time cause the collapse of the Diem regime”, perhaps in as soon as a year or so. (ibid) It got so bad that in October of 1960 Ambassador Durbrow requested permission to speak to Diem about retiring his brother Nhu abroad, and even suggesting that the USA needed new leadership in Saigon. Diem resisted the entreaty and blamed all of his problems on the communists. (ibid, pgs. 64-65) But Durbrow did not relent. He angrily confronted Diem again in December. (ibid, p. 65)

    At this point, the ARVN consisted of about 150, 000 men and the USA had about 700 advisers in country. Yet, even with all that, and as early as October of 1960, the CIA was saying that Diem could not survive much longer. He had to make democratic reforms. Which he resisted.

    Halberstam knew all of this. Because he won his Pulitzer Prize largely based on his early reporting from Saigon, which included much material on how poorly Diem and his family were running the government. In fact, he devoted much of his first book to this subject. But surprisingly, this part of the story – the conditions produced by Diem’s rule in South Vietnam prior to 1961 – is largely absent from The Best and the Brightest. This makes for another instance of imbalance. For one cannot understand the situation the Kennedy administration encountered upon entering office without that information.

    III

    There is a third curious imbalance in The Best and the Brightest. John F. Kennedy served as president for less than three years before he was assassinated in Dallas in 1963. Lyndon Johnson served as president for over five years, from November of 1963 until January of 1969. Further, as everyone who knows anything understands, it was Johnson who oversaw the enormous, almost staggering, military escalations: the rocket and bombing barrages, the buildup of the Republic of South Vietnam Air Force until it was the seventh largest in the world, the digging out of Cam Ranh Bay so it could become a huge Navy and Air Force base, the placement of over 500, 000 combat troops in South Vietnam, and the killing of hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese civilians and soldiers, as well as over thirty thousand American troops. Nothing even resembling this happened while Kennedy was in office, and there is no record of his ever contemplating any of these things. Yet Halberstam’s discussion of Kennedy’s Vietnam policy is 301 pages long. His discussion of Johnson’s policy is 356 pages long. Again, in light of the above, this is inexplicable. Clearly, there was very much more to write about in Vietnam under Johnson, and in every way imaginable. Yet Halberstam chose not to. In fact, after page 588 – after Johnson makes the first big troop commitments – there is very little description of the many further escalations LBJ made. For example, of the bombing campaign that made South Vietnam look like the surface of the moon by 1967. Again, this is a curious editorial decision made by Halberstam.

    In fact, in rereading the book for the second time, I began to take notes on all these rather odd and quirky Halberstam decisions: virtually ignoring the circumstances of the initial commitment, ignoring what Richard Nixon did later, greatly minimizing the deficiencies of the Diem regime, and granting almost equal space to both the Kennedy and Johnson policies. The net effect of all this is to:

    1. Make Vietnam a Democratic Party war, and
    2. To give American involvement under Kennedy almost the same weight as involvement under Johnson.

    The problem with this of course is that it is a complete distortion of history. As detailed above, the original commitment was made under President Eisenhower, and it was engineered by John Foster Dulles. And when President Kennedy was killed, there was not one more combat troop in Vietnam than when he was inaugurated. Johnson reversed that with remarkable speed – in a bit more than one year. And by 1968, LBJ had a half million combat troops in country. Which is something that, as we shall see, Kennedy refused to do at all.

    But this is just the beginning of what Halberstam leaves out in order to make his thesis work, namely that Vietnam was a peculiarly tragic American inevitability. For instance, John Newman begins his masterly book JFK and Vietnam: Deception, Intrigue, and the Struggle for Power, with a memorable scene. Just six days after his inauguration, Assistant National Security Adviser, Walt Rostow hands President Kennedy a pessimistic report on Vietnam. The report was commissioned by the Eisenhower administration but not acted upon by them. It was written by Ed Lansdale, the man who John Foster Dulles sent to Vietnam to prop up Diem. Quite understandably, Lansdale did not see the problems in Vietnam as Elbridge Durbrow did. He saw them as Diem did: it was the Communists fault, and to resist them he needed more American help. (Newman, p. 3) Lansdale agreed with the CIA: If there were not fast and large American intervention, Vietnam would be lost within a year or so. Since he was a total Cold Warrior, Lansdale’s report then added that if Vietnam fell, Southeast Asia “would be easy picking for our enemy.” (ibid, p. 4) So the Ugly American was now invoking the dreaded Domino Theory in order to get Kennedy to act. It is only suitable that it was Rostow who showed the report personally to Kennedy. Because as many commentators have shown, on Vietnam, Rostow and Lansdale were two peas in a pod: They both wanted direct American intervention in Saigon.

    Halberstam also includes this episode in his book. But it appears on page 128. Newman understands its true significance, and since he is interested in demonstrating Kennedy’s true actions on Vietnam, it serves for him as a perfect jumping off point. The young president is confronted with imminent collapse in South Vietnam. The two people pushing this emergency angle on him are trying to get him to eventually commit American forces to the theater. What happens to them? By November of 1961, Kennedy understood what an unmitigated hawk Rostow was and shipped him out of the White House to the Policy Planning Office at State. (Virtual JFK, by James Blight, p. 181) Ed Lansdale, who was covetous of the ambassadorship to South Vietnam, did not get it. (Newman, p. 3) In fact, like Rostow, Kennedy shipped him out of the Vietnam sphere altogether and into running anti-Cuba operations.

    But further, and a point that is almost completely missed by Halberstam, this was the first request in the White House to send combat troops to South Vietnam. In his book Lessons in Disaster: McGeorge Bundy and the Path to War in Vietnam, Gordon Goldstein counts it as the first such request. He then lists seven more such requests for combat troops in the next nine months. Each one was turned down. (Goldstein, pgs. 52-58) This is significant of course for what it tells us about Kennedy. Try and find this information in Halberstam’s book.

    Now, another highlight of Newman’s book is Kennedy’s receiving of the Taylor/Rostow report and the discussion that ensued afterwards. All the 1961 requests for combat troops caused Kennedy to send Rostow and military adviser Max Taylor to Vietnam to report back on the conditions there. As authors Newman and Blight note, this report started a two-week debate in the White House over the issuance of combat troops to save Diem and South Vietnam. Almost everyone in the room wanted to send combat troops. But Kennedy was adamantly opposed to it. So opposed that he recalled copies of the Final Report and then leaked reports to the press that Taylor had not recommended any such thing – even though he had. (Newman, p. 136) Further, Air Force Colonel Howard Burris took notes on this debate. They are contained in the James Blight book. (pgs. 282-83) They are worth summarizing in this discussion of Halberstam.

    Kennedy argued that the Vietnamese situation was not a clear-cut case of aggression as was Korea. He stated that it was “more obscure and less flagrant.” Therefore America would need its Allies since she would be subject to intense criticism from abroad. Kennedy then brought up how the Vietnamese had resisted the French who had spent millions fighting them with no success. He then compared Vietnam with Berlin. Whereas in Berlin you had a well-defined conflict that anyone could understand, Vietnam was a case that was so obscure that even Democrats would be hard to convince on the subject. What made it worse, is that you would be fighting a guerilla force, and “sometimes in phantom-like fashion.” Because of this, the base of operations for US troops would be insecure. Toward the end of the discussion, Kennedy turned the conversation to what would be done next in Vietnam, “rather than whether or not the US would become involved.” And Burris notes that during the debate, Kennedy turned aside attempts by Dean Rusk, Robert McNamara, McGeorge Bundy, and Lyman Lemnitzer to derail his thought process.

    The Burris memo is a pretty strong declaration of Kennedy’s intent not to introduce combat troops into Vietnam. Either Halberstam never interviewed Burris or, if he did, he chose not to include the memo in the book. Whatever the reason, this impressive and defining speech is not in The Best and the Brightest.

    John Newman examined this debate and came to a rather logical and forceful conclusion about it: “Kennedy turned down combat troops, not when the decision was clouded by ambiguities and contradictions…but when the battle was unequivocally desperate, when all concerned agreed that Vietnam’s fate hung in the balance and when his principal advisers told him that vital US interests in the region and the world were at stake.” (Newman, p. 138) As Newman notes, it does not get much more clear than that.

    But Halberstam discounts this certitude. What he tends to concentrate on is the issuance of NSAM 111 on November 22, 1961. Kennedy had turned down the hawks’ request for troops. But he did grant them around 15, 000 more advisers on the ground to see if this would fend off the growing insurgency.

    IV

    At the end of the debate Kennedy did something else that, again, Halberstam completely missed, or chose to ignore. Because it is not in his book. Realizing that his advisers and he were in opposition to each other over Vietnam, he decided to go around them on the issue. He first sent John K. Galbraith to Vietnam to put together a report that he knew would be different than the one that Taylor and Rostow had assembled. (Blight p. 129) He then gave this report to Defense Secretary Robert McNamara in private. The instructions were to begin to put together a plan for American withdrawal from Vietnam. (ibid) The evidence about this is simply undeniable today. In addition to Galbraith, we also have this from Roswell Gilpatric, McNamara’s deputy, who in an oral history, talked about Kennedy telling his boss to put together a plan “to unwind this whole thing.” (ibid, p. 371) In addition to Gilpatric and Galbraith, Roger Hilsman also knew about the plan since another McNamara employee, John McNaughton, told him about it. (NY Times, 1/20/92) It’s clear that McNamara did tell the Pentagon to put together this plan since it was presented to him finally at the May 1963 SecDef conference in Honolulu. (Jim Douglass, JFK and the Unspeakable, pgs. 288-91) He criticized it as being too slow.

    Now, the record of that particular meeting in Hawaii was not declassified until the ARRB did so in 1997. But today it’s there for all to see in black and white. When it was released, even the NY Times and Philadelphia Inquirer had to acknowledge it. So we cannot hold it against Halberstam that he did not have this plan or the records of this meeting. On the other hand, the man says he did 500 interviews. Are we really to believe that he did not talk to Galbraith, Hilsman, or Gilpatric? And that if he did, they all forgot to tell him about this?

    Now, with McNamara finally formulating a withdrawal plan, and the situation in Vietnam getting worse in 1963, Kennedy decided to activate the plan. In late September of 1963, he sent McNamara and Taylor to Saigon in order to make another report to him about the progress of the war. McNamara, of course, understood what Kennedy wanted. In keeping with Kennedy’s wishes, he asked several military advisers if their mission would be substantially reduced by 1965. (Newman p. 402) And as he also knew, Kennedy would have to keep Taylor under guard. And he did. As Newman and Fletcher Prouty (JFK: The CIA, Vietnam, and the Plot to Assassinate John F. Kennedy, pgs. 260-265) have demonstrated, the Taylor-McNamara Report was not really written by them. It was a complete back-channel operation from Washington. And the final arbiter of what went in the report was President Kennedy. One can pretty much say that instead of the two travelers presenting Kennedy with their report, the president presented his report to them. (ibid, p. 401) Consequently, the report delivered a rosy picture of what was going on in Vietnam and stated that because of this, American forces could be withdrawn by the end of 1965. It also said that this withdrawal would begin in December of 1963 with the removal of a thousand American advisers. (Newman p. 402)

    Now, Taylor did not want to include the thousand-man withdrawal in the report. Kennedy insisted on it. (ibid, p. 403) The Bundy brothers objected to completing the withdrawal by the end of 1965. Kennedy, through McNamara, insisted on that also. (ibid, p. 404) In his discussion of this meeting over the report, Newman makes clear that it was Kennedy who applied the pressure to sign on to it to his mostly reluctant cabinet. Predictably, he then sent McNamara to announce the withdrawal plan to the awaiting press. As McNamara proceeded outside to address the media, Kennedy opened his door and yelled at him, “And tell them that means all of the helicopter pilots too!” (Ibid, p. 407) This, of course, became the basis for National Security Action Memorandum 263, Kennedy’s order for the withdrawal to begin.

    What Halberstam does with this crucial information is nothing less than shocking. Here is how he explains McNamara’s escalating role in 1962-63, “He became the principal desk officer on Vietnam in 1962 because he felt that the President needed his help.” (Halberstam p. 214) This is bizarre on its face. But in light of what we know today, it is faintly ludicrous. But Halberstam, as was his characteristic, then doubled down on this unfounded stretch. On the very next page, the author says that McNamara had no different assumptions than the Pentagon did. And further “that he wanted no different sources of information. For all his idealism, he was no better and perhaps in his hubris a little worse than the institution he headed. But to say this in 1963 would have been heresy….” (Halberstam p. 215)

    What McNamara would have said in 1963 was that he was not working for the Pentagon. He was working for President Kennedy and Kennedy had told him to start winding down the war and have us out in 1965. In fact, McNamara did say this to the people mentioned above, he said it to the press in October of 1963 on Kennedy’s orders, and he said it during a meeting with Kennedy and McGeorge Bundy. (Blight, pgs. 100, 124) As noted above, Halberstam missed all of these.

    Or did he? For besides misrepresenting McNamara, the author does something even worse. There is no mention of NSAM 263 to be found in his culminating chapter on the Kennedy administration. Halberstam does mention the debate over the mention of withdrawal in the actual report. (p. 285) But he does not say that the report was the basis for the NSAM ordering withdrawal. And he does not say that the report was supervised by President Kennedy and presented as a fait accompli to Taylor and McNamara. Further, he never mentions that it was Kennedy who got the recalcitrant members of his staff to sign on to the report.

    And Halberstam misses the whole point about the rosy estimate of the American war effort in Vietnam. He tries to write it off as all wishful thinking so Kennedy can put off decisions into the indefinite future. (p. 286) As Newman makes clear in his book, Kennedy understood that the intelligence reports were wrong. But he was using them to hoist the military on its own petard. The military understood this too late, and they tried to change their reports and even backdated them. (Newman, pgs. 425. 441) But there was enough left of them for Kennedy to pull off his bit of subterfuge. In fact, McNamara understood this and asked certain agencies in the State Department to give him more optimistic estimates, which he could use to figure the withdrawal plan around. (Blight, p. 117) Halberstam mentions that the intelligence figures changed in November 1963, but he never makes the connection as to why. (p. 297)

    How does Halberstam sum up Kennedy’s stewardship of Vietnam? He writes that it “was largely one of timidity.” (p. 301) Well, if one eliminates Kennedy’s withdrawal plan and NSAM 263, if one misrepresents what McNamara was doing, if one cuts out the SecDef Conference of May 1963, and the fact that Kennedy stage-managed the Taylor-McNamara Report to announce his withdrawal plan – if one does all that, then I guess you can use the word “timid” to describe Kenendy’s Vietnam policy. But that is also practicing censorship of the worst kind: it is spinning facts in order to arrive at a preconceived conclusion. The one Mary McCarthy characterized as Vietnam being an inevitable American tragedy.

    If it appears that I am being tough on Halberstam here, I’m really not. Because there is no giving him the benefit of the doubt on this one. Halberstam says he read the Pentagon Papers. He writes that, “…they confirmed the direction in which I was going….” (p. 669) Yet in Volume 2, Chapter 3, of the Gravel Edition of the Pentagon Papers, the following sentences appear:

    Noting that “tremendous progress” had been made in South Vietnam and that it might be difficult to retain operations in Vietnam indefinitely, Mr. McNamara directed that a comprehensive long range program be developed for building up SVN military capability and for phasing out the U.S. role. He asked that the planners assume that it would require approximately three years, that is, the end of 1965, for the RVNAD to be trained to the point that it could cope with the VC. On July 26, the JCS formally directed CINPAC to develop a Comprehensive Plan for South Vietnam in accordance with the Secretary’s directive.

    Does it get much more clear than that? These sentences appear right at the beginning of the volume. But they are part of a chapter entitled, “Phased Withdrawal of US Forces, 1962-64.” This chapter goes on for forty pages of the volume, 160-200. The best assumption one can make here is to say Halberstam was just plain lying about reading the Pentagon Papers. On the other hand, if he did read them, he could not have missed this. He had to cut it out precisely for the opposite reason he gives: they did not confirm the direction in which he was going. In fact, they actually contradicted it. Kennedy did have a withdrawal plan going in late 1963, one that Halberstam does not spell out or even seriously mention. And if he had not been assassinated, he may have completed it after his reelection.

    But this would have completely messed up the thesis of the book. And it would have rendered pointless all those boring mini-biographies of the men involved in Vietnam decision-making. (The one on McNamara goes on for 25 pages, 215-240) But this perhaps explains why Halberstam very much soft-peddles – or does not mention at all – Kennedy’s actions in the Congo, where he favored leftist rebel leader Patrice Lumumba; or his speeches going back as far as 1951 assailing the boilerplate Cold War platitudes of both Acheson and John Foster Dulles; or his attacks on French colonialism in both Vietnam and Algeria. If he had not short-changed these, or eliminated them, then Kennedy’s withdrawal plan would make even more sense to the reader.

    But then the epic American tragedy of Vietnam would not have been “inevitable.” And Halberstam would have had to have written another book. One in which he had to give credit to Kennedy for his wisdom and foresight in knowing when to run around his cabinet. In fact, in the taped conversation noted above between Kennedy, McNamara, and Bundy, this point is dramatically illustrated. For when McNamara mentions the withdrawal plan, Bundy reveals that he does not know anything about it. Yet, recall, Halberstam started his book based on a profile of McGeorge Bundy and his influence on the Vietnam War. When, in fact, the truth was that Kennedy understood that Bundy was too hawkish and decided to go around his National Security Advisor. Bundy did not realize what Kennedy had done until he heard the conversation played back to him three decades later. (Blight, p. 125)

    Yet Bundy is the man that Halberstam felt controlled the decisions on Vietnam. This is how flawed The Best and the Brightest was at its inception. The author proceeded anyway. Even when the Pentagon Papers ruined his thesis.


    In Part Two, we will study Halberstam’s treatment of Johnson’s helming of the war.

  • Gordon Goldstein, Lessons in Disaster


    Virtual JFK 3


    Part One of this essay reviews the film accompanying this book, which has the same title.

    Part Two of this essay reviews the book accompanying this film, which has the same title.


    See the Virtual JFK web site


    In my discussion of the book Virtual JFK: Vietnam if Kennedy Had Lived I first mentioned the name of Gordon Goldstein. Goldstein was to be the co-author, with McGeorge Bundy, of a book Bundy was going to write about his experiences with Presidents Kennedy and Johnson over the Vietnam War. That book was never completed because Bundy died before it was finished. The two had worked on it together for a bit less than two years. From the description of the travail here, plus what Goldstein was able to salvage, it would have been a real contribution to the literature. After Bundy passed away, Goldstein wanted to complete the book on his own. But Bundy’s widow would not allow it. So what he decided to do was to compose this memoir of his many months working with Bundy, and to also offer his own view on the Vietnam issue. Lessons in Disaster is not the book that might have been, but it’s still an interesting effort that is worth reading. Among other things, it gives us an insight into what one of the people directly involved in an epic tragedy thought of that terrible episode many years later. Or as Bundy said to Goldstein before they started, “I was part of a great failure. My wish now is that we had done less.” (p. 24)

    It is interesting to note how this effort began. In 1995, Robert McNamara published his book In Retrospect. In that book, he admitted to three things: 1.) The Vietnam War was a huge mistake 2.) He had determined by April1966 that it could not be won in a military sense (McNamara p. 261), and 3.) President Kennedy would not have Americanized the war and escalated it as President Johnson did ( ibid p. 96).

    (Let me interject something here as a personal sidelight. Although McNamara does not specifically mention John Newman in that book, Newman told me that he had several talks with McNamara before he started writing it. John was surprised at how many things McNamara had forgotten about, especially from the Kennedy years. I asked him how that could be so: How McNamara could have not recalled how different Kennedy’s plans had been? Newman replied, “Jim, if you were part of a decision that eventually took the lives of over 58,000 Americans and over two million Vietnamese, you would want to forget about the option you discarded too.”)

    When In Retrospect created the controversy it did, Bundy was asked to appear on a TV show to discuss the book. He did so. During the program, one of the other guests spoke up in defense of McNamara. He said, “You have a guest on your program, McGeorge Bundy, who was certainly as complicit as McNamara. I don’t know why McNamara should take all the heat.” (Goldstein, p. 22) A few days later, McNamara called Goldstein, and the book project began. Goldstein had worked with the former National Security Adviser while completing his Ph. D. in International Relations at Columbia. Unfortunately, Bundy died in the fall of 1996 before the book was completed. Before the two started in earnest, Bundy told Goldstein something that was to pithily sum up everything that followed, “Kennedy didn’t want to be dumb. Johnson didn’t want to be a coward.”

    McGeorge Bundy was Boston Brahmin. He was born there in 1919. His mother was related to the Lowell family, which was an institution in the area. His father Harvey was educated at Yale, where he was a member of Skull and Bones, and then went to Harvard Law School. In 1931, Mac Bundy joined his brothers Bill and Harvey Jr., at the famous boarding school of Groton, whose motto was “To serve is to rule.” (p. 7) Past attendees had been people like Dean Acheson and Franklin Roosevelt. After achieving a perfect SAT score, he went to Yale and joined Phi Beta Kappa. Like his father he joined Skull and Bones. After graduating, Bundy went to Harvard for post graduate work. During World War II, he joined the Navy and became an aide to Rear Admiral Alan Kirk. After the war, he co-authored a book with Secretary of State Henry Stimson. In 1948, he worked on the presidential campaign of Tom Dewey as a speech writer. After that he went to the Council on Foreign Relations to do a paper on the Marshall Plan with the help of Allen Dulles and Dwight Eisenhower. (p. 11) In 1949 he took a teaching position at Harvard in the Government Department. In 1953, at the young age of 34, he became Dean of Harvard faculty. It is here that Bundy met Senator John Kennedy, who was a member of the Harvard Board of Overseers. (p. 14) When Kennedy won the election for president in 1960, Bundy became his National Security Adviser. There is little doubt that, as Goldstein mentions, he revolutionized the position. He actually brought it out of the shadows and made it a position of primacy in the Cabinet.

    Bundy left the White House in 1966 to run the Ford Foundation. While there, the Pentagon Papers were published. Two Bundy assistants tried to coax him into making pubic the memos he had written under Johnson expressing the doubts he had about the war at the time. (p. 17) Bundy, out of the loyalty he felt to LBJ, decided not to. ( I should note here something the author leaves out of his outline of Bundy’s career. In a famous article published in the seventies in Penthouse, it was revealed that Bundy was the secretary of the Bilderberger Group, working directly under David Rockefeller.)

    In 1979, Bundy left the Ford Foundation and, amid great controversy—since, due to his involvement with Vietnam, most of the faculty did not want him there—became a professor of history at New York University. While there in 1984 he talked to journalist David Talbot about the subject. He told Talbot that he did have doubts about the war, “and it can be argued that I didn’t press hard enough.” (p. 19) He did not go any farther and told him he would sort it out later. He did with Goldstein.

    II

    One of the reasons I have detailed the remarkable pedigree of Bundy is that it proves the opposite of what one would expect. Namely that things like Ivy League credentials, secret societies, upper class origins, and Eastern Establishment connections really don’t mean that much on their own. Why? Because Bundy was not a good National Security Adviser. Although Richard Goodwin and Arthur Schlesinger tried to talk Bundy out of it, Bundy OK’d the Bay of Pigs invasion to Kennedy. (p. 38) Even though Bundy possessed a memo that the operation would not succeed unless it was fully supported by the CIA and Pentagon, he did not forward it to the Oval Office. (p. 40) Bundy offered to resign in the wake of that fiasco but Kennedy would not accept his resignation. He probably should have. Because later in1961, Bundy was one of the advisers urging Kennedy to commit American troops to Vietnam. Then in 1962, Bundy first backed air strikes to solve the Cuban Missile Crisis. He then switched to McNamara’s suggestion of a quarantine around Cuba during the Missile Crisis. He then switched back to the Pentagon plan for surgical air strikes, 800 of them. (pgs. 72-73) Although he later said that he switched at Kennedy’s request, this reason never surfaced until many years after. As Goldstein notes, at the time, Ted Sorenson said that Kennedy was actually a bit disgusted with his National Security Adviser.

    But as Bundy noted to Goldstein, one thing to note about Kennedy’s management of the Bay of Pigs was this: Under very strong pressure from the CIA and the Pentagon, Kennedy did not commit the American military to save the day. (p.44) Bundy also noted another pattern to Goldstein. During the Laotian crisis of the same year, the Pentagon wanted JFK to commit combat troops because if not, as Admiral Arleigh Burke said, all of Southeast Asia would be lost. (p. 46) Again, Kennedy did not go along. After calling for a high alert on Okinawa, Kennedy instructed Averill Harriman to produce a diplomatic solution. (p. 45) And he was so appalled by the advice he was getting that he now requested both Sorenson and Bobby Kennedy sit in on National Security Council meetings. (p. 46) Bundy told Goldstein that, after the way Kennedy handled Laos, he saw that, unlike many others—for instance, LBJ—President Kennedy had not bought into the Domino Theory. The idea that if one country went communist, it would take several nearby nations with it.

    Goldstein does a nice job at this point in sketching the background of the Vietnam crisis as Kennedy first inherited it. After the French defeat at Dien Bien Phu, Ngo Dinh Diem then rigged the plebiscite in order to succeed the proxy French emperor Bao Dai. But as the communist insurgency in the countryside grew larger, Diem’s security forces, led by his brother Nhu, became more brutal and repressive. Captured rebels were beaten, had their legs broken, and females were raped. (p. 51) In 1959, Diem restored the guillotine. Traveling courts in the countryside were now authorized to behead convicted communists. (ibid) Goldstein sums up the scene upon Kennedy’s ascendancy to the White House: “By 1961, as Kennedy assumed power in Washington, the situation in South Vietnam was characterized by an ascending nationalist and communist movement and an oppressive regime that was progressively losing control of the country and credibility with its people.” (ibid)

    What follows is one of the highlights of the book. Goldstein enumerates the number of times Kennedy turned down requests to commit combat troops to save the day before the White House debate over the Taylor/Rostow mission in November of 1961. He starts out with the request of Gen. Ed Lansdale in January of 1961. (p. 52) In April of 1961, McNamara suggested the same. (p. 53) That same month, Kennedy rejected a backdoor: he refused combat troops as trainers. (p. 54) He was asked twice in May and turned down both requests. (ibid) By July he had turned down a total of six requests. (p. 55)

    On July 15th, Max Taylor and Walt Rostow again requested combat troops. Bundy kept notes on this colloquy which Goldstein prints here. He wrote, “Questions from the president showed that the detailed aspects of this military plan had not been developed … the president made clear his own deep concern with the need for realism and accuracy in … military planning. He had observed in earlier military plans with respect to Laos that optimistic estimates were invariably proven false in the event … He emphasized the reluctance of the American people and of many distinguished leaders to see any direct involvement of US troops in that part of the world.” Rostow and Taylor tried to argue back but Kennedy said, “Gen. DeGaulle, out of painful French experience, had spoken with feeling of the difficulty of fighting in this part of the world.” Vice-President Johnson then called for a firmer military commitment to the region, including Laos. Kennedy resisted by saying, “Nothing would be worse than an unsuccessful intervention in the area, and that he did not have confidence in the military practicability of the proposal which had been put before him.” (pgs 56-57) This now made seven rejections of American direct intervention in seven months.

    On October 11th, Deputy Defense Secretary Alexis Johnson joined the push for combat troops. Again, Kennedy did not agree. But he did authorize a mission to South Vietnam by Max Taylor and Walt Rostow. (p. 57) At this time, the hawks in the White House begin to leak stories that Kennedy would now probably commit troops to Vietnam. When Kennedy saw the stories, he himself leaked a story denying it. (ibid)

    On October 20th, Frederick Nolting, the American ambassador in Vietnam, requested combat troops for flood relief purposes. Taylor was on the scene, and he agreed with the request—if he did not put Nolting up to it. Kennedy consulted with an agricultural expert and turned it down. Taylor then talked to the press about the issue. Kennedy telegrammed Taylor to stop doing so. (p. 58)

    When Kennedy received the Taylor/Rostow report, it again requested the sending of combat troops to Vietnam. And it couched the request in dire terms. It said if such a commitment was not made, the fall of South Vietnam would likely follow. (p. 60) The formal White House debate over the recommendation was taken up on November 7th. In addition to Taylor and Rostow, Defense Secretary McNamara, Secretary of State Dean Rusk, Bundy, and the entire Joint Chiefs of Staff told Kennedy to send combat troops. On November 15th, Kennedy closed the debate. At this point, Goldstein makes two cogent observations. There were only two people in the entire White House who sided with Kennedy on this issue. They were George Ball and John Kenneth Galbraith. When Ball personally approached Kennedy since he thought he might be weakening and could give in, Kennedy replied to him: “George, you’re just crazier than hell. That just isn’t going to happen.” (p. 62) And after this debate, Kennedy told Galbraith he was going to send him to Saigon. He wanted him to render a report also. (p. 61) Knowing what it would say, he would only give it to McNamara. And McNamara would now become Kennedy’s point man on his withdrawal plan. The third result of this debate was Kennedy’s issuance of National Security Action Memorandum (NSAM) 111, which increased the number of advisers to above 15,000, with no provision for combat troops.

    When Bundy reviewed all the above with Goldstein, he was impressed with both Kennedy’s insight and his steadfastness. He also told Professor James Blight, one of the co-editors of the fine book Virtual JFK, that Kennedy simply did not think that combat troops would work in South Vietnam. Because he did not see the struggle as a conventional war but as a classic counter-insurgency conflict. Bundy and Goldstein came to the conclusion that much of this was instilled in Kennedy from his visit to Vietnam in the early fifties during the last throes of the French imperial war there. (p. 235) Another strong influence was his discussion of the issue with Douglas MacArthur. The general told Kennedy it would be foolish to fight a large land war in Southeast Asia. He told him that he could pour a million men into the struggle and still be outnumbered. (p. 235) Alexis Johnson was skeptical of MacArthur’s stance but he admitted that it made a profound effect on President Kennedy. Max Taylor agreed with him. He said MacArthur’s analysis made a “hell of an impression on the President.” (ibid) Kennedy later told Bundy’s assistant Michael Forrestal “that the odds against an American victory over the Viet Cong were 100 to 1.” (p. 239) Since, as Bundy said, Kennedy did not buy into the Domino Theory, those odds were simply not worth it. Consequently, Bundy saw these ten rejections in eleven months as Kennedy’s final decision on the issue. And Bundy described a following meeting in January of 1962 in Palm Beach, Florida where Kennedy emphasized the advice and support role to be played by the Americans. (p. 71) That was a line Kennedy was not going to cross. And he didn’t.

    III

    After receiving Galbraith’s report, McNamara went to work on putting together the withdrawal plan. While he did that, the increased advisory team sent in by NSAM 111 managed to keep the lid on a deteriorating situation. But in 1963, things started going downhill fast. In January of that year, the Viet Cong defeated a regular detachment of the South Vietnamese army at the battle of Ap Bac. (p. 72) As things began to spiral downward, the reactions of the Ngo brothers worsened. Diem demanded that all public gatherings, even funerals, would have to have official state sanction. He even asked for total control over all anti-guerilla operations from the US. Then the epochal Hue crisis broke out in June. In response to a discriminatory edict passed by Diem, a huge Buddhist rally took place in the city of Hue. After a day of speeches, a radio station was bombed with many protesters standing outside. In the resultant chaos, shots were fired into the crowd. Several people were killed and even more were wounded. (The best account of this incident is by Jim Douglass, in JFK and the Unspeakable, pgs. 128-131) As a result of the crackdown ordered by Diem’s brother, Ngo Dinh Nhu, one of the monks leading the demonstration set himself on fire. (Goldstein, p. 75) This horrifying image was captured on both film and photograph and was relayed all over the world. Making it worse was the heinous reaction of Nhu’s wife, Madame Nhu (aka The Dragon Lady). She ridiculed his martyrdom as a “barbecue” and said if any others did the same “we shall clap our hands”. (ibid p. 76) Unfortunately for her, seven others did do the same. (ibid) This chain reaction mushroomed into a huge political crisis since it spawned marches, demonstrations, work stoppages and hunger strikes. (Douglass, p. 133) In reply, Nhu ended up arresting over 1,400 Buddhists.

    It was against the backdrop of this image of a collapsing government and an intractable leader that a small cabal in Washington and Saigon decided to take the next step and remove Diem and his brother from power. Goldstein does a decent job describing the events that led to the eventual coup and deaths of the brothers. (pgs. 76-81) But the best, most detailed description of how it began is by John Newman in his masterful book, JFK and Vietnam. There had been a small group in State and on Bundy’s staff that was waiting for an event like this to get rid of Diem. The group consisted of Averill Harriman and Roger Hilsman at State, and Michael Forrestal of the NSC. While Kennedy was away, Hilsman began sending cables to his ally William Trueheart in the Saigon embassy threatening to ostracize Diem. This was in defiance of Kennedy’s wishes. (Newman, p. 336) But once Henry Cabot Lodge had arrived as the new ambassador in Saigon, this group took an even bolder step.

    As with the sending of the threatening message, they waited until a strategic moment when all the principals of government were out of town. This came on the weekend of August 24-25th. JFK, McNamara, Bundy, Rusk, and CIA Director John McCone were all out of Washington. Three cables came in from Lodge and the CIA officer in contact with the South Vietnamese army, Lucien Conein. The message was that the Army was unhappy with the Ngo brothers and if the USA indicated to the generals that it “would be happy to see Diem and/or Nhu go, and the deed would be done.” Lodge added that he did not think it would be that easy. It could be a “shot in the dark”. (Newman, p. 346) This was all that Hilsman-Harriman-Forrestal needed. They sent a cable back on the 24th. It said that Diem must be given a chance to oust Nhu, “but if he remains obdurate, then we are prepared to accept the obvious implication that we can no longer support Diem. You may also tell appropriate military commanders we will give them direct support in any interim period of breakdown … ” (ibid)

    Forrestal was given the job of getting this cable cleared. He read it to Kennedy over the phone. Kennedy did not understand why it had to be sent that day. But he said to see if others would OK it, especially McCone. Kennedy probably said this because he knew McCone would not approve it. (ibid p. 347) But, in fact, McCone was never shown the cable. (ibid, p. 351) The cabal also fudged getting Chairman of the Joint Chiefs Maxwell Taylor to approve it. Hilsman and Forrestal concocted a story that said that no clearance from the Defense Department was required, meaning McNamara and Alexis Johnson. And further, that Taylor had approved it without question. Neither of these is true. (ibid p. 348) In fact, Taylor never approved the cable. When he saw it he perceptively thought, ” … my first reaction was that the anti-Diem group centered in State had taken advantage of the absence of the principal officials to get out instructions which would never have been approved as written under normal circumstances. ” (ibid p. 349) He also thought it would have never even been passed around if Bundy had been in town. Yet, Taylor did not call Kennedy to tell him what he thought was actually happening. The cable was sent that Saturday night.

    On Monday, Kennedy was upset at what had happened: “This shit has got to stop!” When Forrestal offered to resign Kennedy replied with, “You’re not worth firing. You owe me something, so you stick around.” (ibid, p. 351) But the problem now was that in Saigon, Lodge had immediately jumped on the cable. And, seemingly as if he was part of the plan, he bypassed putting pressure on Diem to fire his brother Nhu, and instead he went straight to the generals. This was on Sunday, the 25th, less than 24 hours after getting the Saturday night cable. (ibid, p. 350) Bypassing Diem was a crucial switch from the original cable, which said that Diem was to be given a chance to oust his brother Nhu. (ibid, p. 346) So now, by the end of Sunday the 25th, the effort to overthrow Diem was in motion with almost irreversible momentum. Even though Kennedy advised Lodge that he was against it and wanted to work with Diem, even though RFK was against it also, Lodge and Conein had cast their lot with the coup plotters. (Goldstein, pgs. 81, 86-88) This ended, of course, with the coup finally succeeding in early November. With the cooperation of Lodge and Conein, the Ngo brothers were not just ousted, they were killed. (Douglass deals with this episode exceedingly well on pgs. 206-210) The death of the brothers deeply troubled Kennedy both morally and religiously. He ordered a complete review of how the August 24th cable was sent, why it was so urgent to do on the weekend, and why it was skewed so much in favor of the generals. (Goldstein p. 90)

    In the aftermath of the coup, Bundy felt that perhaps the USA was now more committed to South Vietnam. But Kennedy did not waver from his withdrawal plan as helmed by McNamara. Goldstein quotes McNamara as saying to his biographer, “I believed that we had done all the training we could. Whether the South Vietnamese were qualified or not to turn back the North Vietnamese, I was certain that if they weren’t it was not for lack of training. More training wouldn’t strengthen them; therefore we should get out. The president agreed.” (ibid p. 84) Therefore in early October, NSAM 263 was issued. This stated that the US would withdraw a thousand advisers by the end of 1963. The White House announcement coupled with this issuance said that it was the first step in the eventual removal of the bulk of American personnel by the end of 1965. (Newman, p. 402) And after November coup, Kennedy said in a speech on November 14th that he did not want the US to put troops in Vietnam. His intent was to bring the Americans home. (Goldstein, pgs 95-96)

    As Goldstein notes, this was all changed by what happened in Dallas a week later.

    IV

    Like most current scholarship, Goldstein describes the sea change that took place on the Vietnam issue after Johnson took over. Bundy told Goldstein that LBJ was not going to jeopardize his election by losing any aspect of the Cold War. (pgs. 98-99) He also told Goldstein that he did not really want to serve under LBJ, but he felt he had to until at least November of 1964. Bundy, and others, felt the real successor to JFK was Bobby Kennedy. (ibid)

    The National Security Advisor states that there is no doubt that, from the first day, Johnson was preoccupied with Vietnam. (p. 105) For instance, Rusk said, “The President has expressed his deep concern that our effort in Vietnam be stepped up to the highest pitch, and that each day we ask ourselves what more we can do to further the struggle.” (p. 105) McCone said, “Johnson definitely feels that we place too much emphasis on social returns; he has very little tolerance with our spending so much time being “do-gooders”. (ibid) Johnson told McNamara that the USA was not doing everything it should in Vietnam. (p. 106) He sent McNamara to Saigon in order to give him a ground level report. Right before Christmas of 1963, McNamara returned with a bad report. (ibid, p. 107) The South Vietnamese had been lying about their progress in the war. A month after that, the Joint Chiefs sent a proposal to the White House recommending bombing the North and the insertion of US combat troops.

    This is quite interesting of course. Not just because of the speed of the reversal. That has been noted by several other authors. But because the fulcrum of Kennedy’s strategy had been to partly base his withdrawal strategy on the false reports he knew he was getting from South Vietnam. In fact, this was one of the main themes of Newman’s milestone book. Namely, that Kennedy knew these were wrong. But he was going to utilize them to base his withdrawal plan on. But the Pentagon and the CIA finally understood what Kennedy was up to and began to change these reports. And they backdated the changes to July, 1963. (Newman, pgs 425, 441) McNamara had to have known this, since Kennedy had appointed him to run the withdrawal plan. But like the others, he understood a new sheriff was in town. So McNamara presented to LBJ the revised figures, the ones done as a reaction to Kennedy’s withdrawal strategy. In light of this, the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) responded with plans for both an American air and land war in Vietnam. On March 2, 1964 the JCS passed a new war proposal to the White House. This one was even more ambitious. It included bombing, the mining of North Vietnamese harbors, a naval blockade, and possible use of tactical atomic weapons, in case China intervened. (Goldstein, p. 108)

    Johnson said he was not ready for this proposal since he did not have congress yet as a partner and trustee. (ibid, p. 109) But he did order the preparation of NSAM 288. This was essentially a target list of bombing sites that eventually reached 94 possibilities. (Edwin Moise, Tonkin Gulf and the Escalation of the Vietnam War, pgs 24-25) By May 25th, with both Richard Nixon and Barry Goldwater clamoring for bombing of the north, LBJ had made the decision that the US would directly attack North Vietnam at an unspecified point in the future. (ibid, p. 26) In fact, the specific campaign, with the steps involved leading to a continuous air campaign, had already been mapped out in time intervals. This plan included the passage of a congressional resolution. (ibid, p. 27) The rough draft of the resolution was drawn up by a young lawyer in the State Department. (ibid) In June, Mac Bundy’s brother, William Bundy, finalized it. That month, Johnson began to lobby certain people in congress in advance. ( ibid, p. 26) On June 10th, McNamara said, “that in the event of a dramatic event in Southeast Asia we would go promptly for a congressional resolution.” (ibid) But Bill Bundy added, the actual decision to expand the war would not be made until after the election. (ibid, p. 44) This is precisely what happened.

    As Goldstein points out, there were other views being voiced at the time. People like Sen. Richard Russell, journalist Walter Lippmann, and French Premier DeGaulle were all pushing for a neutralization plan. It’s interesting to compare Johnson’s reaction to DeGaulle with Kennedy’s. Whereas Kennedy took DeGaulle’s opinion very seriously, Johnson told Bundy to call DeGaulle and get him to take back his appeal for neutralization. (Goldstein, p. 111) Considering all of the above, the only thing Johnson needed now was a casus belli—the “dramatic event” McNamara spoke of. LBJ himself had planted the seed for one.

    As John Newman notes, when Johnson became president, he altered the rough draft of NSAM 273 in more than one way. The most significant alteration was probably to paragraph seven. (Newman, p. 446) In the rough draft prepared by Bundy, it allowed for maritime operations against the north—but only by the government of South Vietnam. (ibid, p. 440) This was changed by LBJ. He struck the sentence specifying that maritime operations be done by the South Vietnamese government. (ibid, p. 446) Probably because this would have taken time, since South Vietnam had no sophisticated navy to speak of. As Newman writes, “This revision opened the door to direct US attacks against North Vietnam, and CINCPAC OPLAN 34-63, which became OPLAN 34A, was promptly submitted to the White House…” (ibid)By December 21, 1963—less than one month after Kennedy was killed—McNamara presented Johnson with a paper entitled “Plans for Covert Action into North Vietnam”. (ibid) One of the actions was to couple OPLAN 34A with DESOTO patrols in the Tonkin Gulf, all along the coast of North Vietnam. OPLAN 34 A consisted of hit and run strikes by small, quick patrol boats manned by South Vietnamese sailors. But outside of that, almost everything else about those missions was American in origin. The DESOTO patrols were completely American. These were destroyers manned with intelligence collecting machines to collect data on where things like North Vietnamese radar installations and torpedo boat harbors were. In other words, they worked in tandem.

    The first naval operations went into effect in February of 1964. (Moise, , p. 6) The destroyer used at that time was called the Craig. The destroyer used for the second set of missions, beginning in July, was the Maddox. An important part of the mission was to “show the flag”. (Moise, p. 55) And part of that was violating the claim the North Vietnamese made about the limits of their territorial waters. They said the limit was twelve miles. Yet on the July/August missions both the attacking patrol boats and the Maddox were in violation of that limit. Not just in relation to the mainland, but also relative to the islands off the coast, which were also attacked. (Moise, p. 68) As many authors have concluded, the design and action of the mission was a provocation. (ibid, p. 68) In fact, people inside the White House, like Forrestal and McCone, later agreed it was. (Goldstein, p. 125)

    There were two incidents that took place in the first week of August, which gave Johnson the pretext to pass his resolution. On August 2nd the Maddox was attacked by three North Vietnamese torpedo boats. Although torpedoes were launched, none hit. The total damage to the destroyer was one bullet through the hull. (Moise, p. 80) When the Defense Department briefed the senators on this first incident, they misrepresented it. They said the North Vietnamese fired first, that the USA had no role in the patrol boat raids, that the ships were in international waters, and there was no hot pursuit. These were all wrong. (Ibid, p. 87)

    At this point, Captain Herrick of the Maddox suggested the missions be stopped. They were not. And the mission was given direct orders to violate the twelve mile territorial waters claim. Which they did. (ibid, p. 95) LBJ himself authorized the new OPLAN 34A attack on August 3rd. (ibid, p. 105) On this particular DESOTO patrol, the Turner Joy joined the Maddox. On August 4th, the Turner Joy reported that torpedo boats were approaching her. This message was relayed to Washington. McNamara used these messages in his discussion with Johnson. The Turner Joy then opened fire, eventually expending 300 shells. It was later discovered that they were firing at nothing. No attack took place that night. And in fact, the records of the Turner Joy were later altered ” to make the evidence of an attack seem stronger than it actually was …” (ibid, p.147)

    The morning he first heard of the second incident, Johnson marched down to his National Security Advisor’s office. Bundy told Goldstein that this, in itself, was quite unusual. (Goldstein, p. 126) LBJ then told Bundy, “Get the resolution your brother drafted.” Bundy replied, “Mr. President, we ought to think about this.” Johnson said, “I didn’t ask you what you thought, I told you what to do.” (ibid) That exchange should throw the final pile of dirt on the myth of Johnson as the “reluctant warrior”

    But it’s actually worse than that. Because today there is a debate on whether this exchange took place after the phony news of an actual attack, or whether Johnson talked to Bundy just upon hearing that the torpedo boats were approaching. According to Goldstein’s chronology, LBJ told Bundy to get the resolution out before any of the phony news of an attack got to him. (ibid pgs 126-127) Which would mean of course that the attack, which did not occur, was superfluous to Johnson. He was going to use the non-event to get his pre-planned resolution through congress. And in fact, during a meeting on August 5th, Bundy actually said that the evidence for the first attack had stood up, but the evidence for the second attack was questionable. (White House Memorandum. 5 August, 1964.) In 2003, the National Security Archive, released a memo saying that on August 4th, Herrick had actually relayed a message to McNamara saying that the evidence for the second attack was doubtful. McNamara later believed that LBJ did what he did because he did not want to be attacked by the hawks as being weak or indecisive. In other words, he was protecting his right flank. (Moise, p. 211) But at the same time, by campaigning with slogans like “I will not send American boys to fight a war Asian boys should be fighting”, he disguised his real designs from his Democratic base. (Goldstein, p. 129)

    Sticking with his plan, Johnson took out the target list prepared by NSAM 288. He ordered air strikes that very day. But before the planes actually hit their targets, Johnson went on national television to announce the retaliation late on the night of August 4th. This alerted the North Vietnamese anti-aircraft batteries. So in the wee hours of August 5th, two pilots were shot down. (ibid, p. 219) But in another sense, the air strikes did the trick. Johnson’s approval ratings on his handling of the war went up drastically. (ibid p. 226) Afterwards, Johnson continued to deceive congress. He told Sen. William Fulbright that OPLAN 34A was a South Vietnamese operation. ( ibid p. 227) The Tonkin Gulf resolution was passed by both houses, almost unanimously. The whole idea in ramming it through was to change the outline of the event from a provocation by the US into America being a victim of North Vietnamese aggression.

    On August 7th, LBJ sent a message to Maxwell Taylor. He wanted a whole gamut of possible operations presented to him for direct American attacks against the North. This was received in the White House two days later. The target date for a systematic bombing campaign against the North was set for January of 1965. (Moise, p. 244) As we will see, Johnson missed this target by one month.

    After Johnson ordered the reprisal bombing for the non-existent second attack, the government of North Vietnam met. They decided that direct American military intervention in the South was on its way. They also concluded that a continuous bombing campaign was also probable. They decided the public had to be made aware of the coming onslaught. In September, they also began to send the first North Vietnamese regulars down the Ho Chi Minh Trail. (Moise, p. 251)

    All the above was made possible by the alterations in NSAM 273, which Johnson made four days after Kennedy was killed. In other words, LBJ was going to war over one bullet in a destroyer’s hull.

    V

    The last part of Lessons in Disaster describes Bundy’s slightly less than two years in the White House as Johnson implemented his plan to Americanize the war. If ever there was a case for dramatizing John Newman’s axiom about 1964, it is in these pages. Newman said that Kennedy was using the 1964 election to disguise his withdrawal plan; Johnson used the election to disguise his intervention plan. In fact LBJ had once said, Vietnam could not be lost before the election, but it also could not blossom into an all-out war before it either. (Goldstein, p. 133) In fact, CIA analyst Ray Cline had told Bundy that if America waited to intervene until after the election, it would still allow time to save the day. (ibid pgs. 136-37)

    For this book, Bundy threw himself into a review of Vietnam policy, especially under Johnson. The State Department had issued a report saying that a sustained aerial war would not be effective there. And it would not stop Hanoi from aiding the Viet Cong. Bundy ignored these warnings. He favored an air campaign. So did Max Taylor. LBJ disagreed. He told Taylor, “I have never felt this war will be won from the air, and it seems to me that what is much more needed and would be more effective is larger and stronger use of Rangers, and Special Forces, and Marines, or other appropriate military strength on the ground and on the scene.” (ibid, p. 151) Gen. William Westmoreland, the commander in South Vietnam, also agreed in a ground war. In February of 1965, Bundy was touring the country. The Viet Cong attacked an officers HQ in Pleiku, where several Americans were killed and even more injured. Bundy recommended air strikes in retaliation. When Bundy got back to Washington, he asked Johnson about his recommendation. LBJ replied, “Well, isn’t that all decided?” (ibid p. 158) And it had been. Operation Flaming Dart quickly escalated into Rolling Thunder, the greatest aerial bombardment campaign the world had ever seen. Johnson wanted Eisenhower’s approval for it first. He got it in spades. Eisenhower even recommended tactical nukes if necessary. (p. 161) The Domino Theory was quite powerful.

    The only person actually arguing with Johnson, in both public and private, was Vice-President Hubert Humphrey. When he addressed a long memo to Johnson arguing against escalation on quite practical grounds e.g. the instability of the South Vietnamese government, LBJ went ballistic. He barred him from any future meetings on Vietnam, and actually wanted surveillance put on him to see who he was talking to. (p. 162)

    Once the air war escalated, Westmoreland argued for troops to protect the air base at Da Nang. Interestingly, Taylor argued against it since it would break the line in the sand that Kennedy had drawn. (p. 163) LBJ sided with Westmoreland. And the first American combat troops arrived in Vietnam in March of 1965. Within two months of his inauguration, Johnson had begun both the air and land war he had been planning for over a year.

    Johnson’s next step was to ask the Secretary of the Army how many troops it would take to win the war. The response was 500,000 men and at least five years, probably more. (p. 165) On April 1st, just three weeks after the Da Nang landing, Johnson began to pour in the combat troops he felt he needed to win. The first contingent was of 20,000 men, and LBJ specifically changed their mission from base protection to offensive operations. By April 20th, Westmoreland was asking for an increase to 82,000 troops. He got them. (p. 171) At this point, Taylor understood what Johnson’s aim was: He was going to give the military all the men it needed as fast as possible to win the war. He was right. Westmoreland asked for more combat troops on June 7th. He got 42,000 more. He then asked for 52,000 after that. He got them also. By the end of 1965, Johnson’s first 11 months in office, there were over 175,000 combat troops in Vietnam. Under Kennedy there had been none.

    Bundy understood by the end of 1965 that Westmoreland was committed to a war of attrition. He felt he did not do enough analysis of what the war was devolving into. He didn’t press the story of what the real prospects for success were. He didn’t measure the strengths and weaknesses of each side. He didn’t ask: What kind of war will this be?, or How many losses will we sustain? (pgs. 178, 182) He had become a staff officer aiding his commander instead of a detached analyst measuring options in advance and giving the president the ups and downs of each option he takes. He felt that one of his greatest failures was that he never commissioned a detailed study as to what it would cost the USA in every aspect to completely secure South Vietnam. He failed to do this because he was initially in favor of intervention. He later told Goldstein that it was a serious error and he failed to ever address it. (p. 185) Bundy felt that another failure of his was that he did not understand that in this kind of war, numerical success did not equal military victory. Therefore Westmoreland’s famous “body count” tally was not a good barometer of how the war was actually progressing. (p. 188) The incredible thing was that the worse it got, the more people like Eisenhower and Rusk urged Johnson on. And the more troops LBJ committed. But yet, Westmoreland wanted still more. By the second half of 1965, he wanted a doubling of the troop commitment, and a tripling of the air war. (pgs. 201-202) This is where Bundy and Johnson began to part company. Another issue where they parted was on how much to tell the American public. Bundy thought Johnson had to sell the war more to keep America committed. Johnson wanted to keep it low profile. (p. 198)

    But there was something else that bothered Bundy about Johnson’s constant escalation. That’s because he found out the reason the military always got what they wanted. It was because the White House debates were nothing but a piece of choreographed stagecraft. The director being Lyndon Johnson, on instructions from Westmoreland. Bundy discovered that Westmoreland had a secret telegram channel to Johnson. Through this he would make a request, and Johnson would then OK it. It was at this point that LBJ would call the meeting on the requested escalation—after it had been approved. (pgs. 214-15) It was all meant to give people like him the feeling that they had a say in the decision, when they really did not. The decision was a fait accompli.

    Bundy felt that both he and Johnson got caught up in the whole war of attrition fallacy: That even if they achieved only a stalemate, that was better than losing because it would show the world the USA was not a paper tiger. (pgs. 221-222) This was the level of sophistication that was guiding the decisions of this great epic tragedy by the end of 1965.

    After it was all over, and the recriminations and many books had been written about it, Bundy decided to look back on his role in the debacle. One of the first books he read was David Halberstams’s The Best and the Brightest. A book in which he figured prominently. Although he thought it was an entertaining and informative read, he concluded that the central thesis was just wrong. (pgs. 148-49) It was not the advisers—the best and brightest—who did the staff work who got us into the Vietnam War. It was the difference in the men who occupied the Oval Office. It was the difference between Kennedy and Johnson.

    And with that, Lessons in Disaster joins a growing list of books that now almost fill up a shelf. In fact, we have now had two in the last year: Goldstein’s and Virtual JFK. It’s a shame it took so long for the truth to arrive. But finally, as Michael Morrissey wrote years ago, the second biggest lie about Kennedy’s assassination can be laid to rest.

  • James Blight, Virtual JFK (Part 2)


    Virtual JFK:  Vietnam if Kennedy Had Lived


    Part One of this essay reviews the film accompanying this book, which has the same title.

    Part Three, Virtual JFK 3: Gordon Goldstein’s Lessons in Disaster


    See the Virtual JFK web site.


    It’s not possible for me to make a joke about the death of John F. Kennedy.

    —Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.


    This Vonnegut quote appears on the first page of Virtual JFK. It was a good signal for me. One of the things it conveyed was that finally, after so many years, the mainstream academic community was going to seriously look at a painful but glaring question: If President Kennedy had lived, would he have withdrawn from Vietnam and not have Americanized that war?

    In 2005, a little less than twenty scholars and former policy makers gathered at a place called the Musgrove Conference Center at St. Simons Island, Georgia. The subject was this very question. All of those involved had a distinct interest in either the Kennedy presidency, the Johnson presidency, or the Vietnam War. Many of them had studied all three. To give you an idea of who was there let me mention who several of the attendees were. Jamie Galbraith is the son of one of Kennedy’s chief advisers and confidantes, John Kenneth Galbraith. He is a Professor of Government and Business relations at the University of Texas at Austin. Inspired by what his father told him about Kennedy and Vietnam, he has been an intelligent, articulate, and authoritative proponent of Kennedy’s desire to withdraw all forces by 1965. Frederick Logevall is a Professor of History at Cornell who in 1999 wrote an extraordinary volume called Choosing War. This was an exhaustive study of Johnson’s decision making from Kennedy’s death until the great escalations of 1965 and beyond. A rather surprising revelation of the book was that, far from stumbling errantly into a colossal debacle, Johnson fully understood and measured what the potential costs in blood and treasure would be. His generals told him in 1965 that the conflict in Vietnam would take 500,000 troops to fight and would last anywhere from five to twenty years. Johnson gave the military 538,000 troops and much more. Chester Cooper was an assistant to National Security Adviser McGeorge Bundy and later worked for Asst. Secretary of State Averill Harriman. He was closely involved in the formation of Vietnam policy under both men and under both presidents. Tom Hughes worked for Chester Bowles, a chief Kennedy adviser during the campaign of 1960. Once Kennedy was elected, Hughes worked first for Bowles and then succeeded Roger Hilsman as director of Intelligence and Research at the State Department. He stayed there for the great escalations of 1965-68. Another policy-maker in attendance was Bill Moyers. Moyers first worked for Lyndon Johnson on his senatorial staff. He then worked for JFK as Deputy Director of the Peace Corps. When Kennedy was killed, he reverted back to being an advisor for Johnson and then rose to Press Secretary. He parted ways with LBJ over Vietnam and left the White House in 1966.

    The point is made. It’s an impressive yet relatively mainstream roster. Some of the other participants are Frances Fitzgerald, author of the Pulitzer Prize winning book about America in Vietnam, Fire in the Lake; Tim Naftali, co-author of One Hell of a Gamble, a history of the Cuban Missile Crisis from the Russian viewpoint; and Marilyn Young, Professor of History at NYU and author of The Vietnam Wars, 1945-1990. The three people who essentially arranged and ran the conference were David Welch, a Professor of Political Science at the University of Toronto; Janet Lang an associate professor at the Watson Institute, and last but not least, James Blight a Professor of International Relations at Brown. Blight has been part of a few books on the Kennedy presidency, especially dealing with the Missile Crisis.

    They have made an interesting volume. It’s uneven, and in the purest sense, not really a book. But it’s interesting, even compelling, nevertheless. When I say it is not really a book, what I mean is that it is more an oral history plus a document annex. But since the discussions are footnoted, the oral history has a real basis in fact. And since all the participants were issued a thousand page briefing book of the most currently declassified documents on the Vietnam War, most of the discussion is state of the art. Further, the conference organizers arranged for audiotapes to be piped into the room so that the latest declassified phone calls and taped meetings could be heard too. Blight did his homework well. Many of the things that I talked about that were missing from the film of the same name, do appear here. And to say the least, the document annex is quite forceful. A matter I will get to later.

    The conference lasted for two days. And the discussion centered on whether or not there was continuity or breakage between Kennedy’s and Johnson’s Vietnam policy. The book acknowledges the fact that, as John Newman noted in Vietnam: The Early Decisions (edited by Lloyd Gardner and Ted Gittinger), the myth of continuity has been chiefly maintained by prominent mainstream academics. (p. 158) So this conference was a milestone in that regard. It was precipitated by the influence of Newman’s compelling and fully documented 1992 book, JFK and Vietnam. (Newman is mentioned at several points in the discussion.) Prior to that volume some writers had talked about this breakage in policy. But it had been sporadic, the evidence mostly anecdotal, and not really sustained. In fact all the material I could summon for my first book Destiny Betrayed, could not even flesh out a moderately sized book. To give these people their due though, they included Roger Hilsman in To Move a Nation, Ted Sorenson in his book Kennedy, Arthur Schlesinger in his long biography Robert Kennedy and His Times, Ralph Martin in A Hero for our Time, and Dave Powers and Ken O’Donnell in Johnny, We Hardly Knew Ye. The last is the most interesting. Although it was published in 1972, the same year as David Halberstam’s best-selling The Best and the Brightest, it took serious issue with that standard reference book which argued for continuity. It went on for several pages (pgs. 13-18, 442-444), sternly denying there was any continuity at all. Actually taking issue at one point with proclamations made by Johnson in his memoirs. (This is a theme, Johnson’s attempt to rewrite the record, that I will take up later.) Like Newman would argue in 1992, that book said that Kennedy had decided not to commit combat troops to Vietnam as early as 1961. They based this on two long discussions Kennedy had on the issue with French Premier Charles DeGaulle and General Douglas MacArthur.

    In another form, the two authors who wrote about this subject in essays prior to Newman were Fletcher Prouty and Peter Dale Scott. Scott based most of his work on the Pentagon Papers. Prouty worked from that, plus his own experience inside the Pentagon. He wrote about Kennedy’s plans to withdraw in his fine book The Secret Team (pgs. 401-416), and in a short essay in High Treason (466-473). Scott wrote two interesting essays on the subject. One was originally published in Ramparts and the other in the Gravel edition of the Pentagon Papers.

    But, as I said, John Newman’s book went much further than any of the above. So much further, that the publisher ditched the book. As Galbraith writes in his fine 2003 essay in Boston Review, 32,000 copies of JFK and Vietnam were initially printed in 1992. After 10,000 were sold, Warner Books ceased selling the hardcover. Even though the book had high visibility because of Oliver Stone’s film JFK, the company never spent anything on promoting the book. Incredibly it was never reprinted in trade paperback. When Newman complained about this in 1993, the company quietly returned his rights. But in spite of this, because the book was so well-documented, contained so much new material, and was so convincing in its argument, it has had a strong influence with both public opinion and with scholars.

    Let me note an important point here in order to give Newman’s book its full due. Even though the books and essays noted above had interesting snippets of information, and Scott and Prouty had serious arguments to make, their cumulative impact was minimal. Outside of those interested in President Kennedy’s assassination, and to a lesser degree, his short presidency, they made the briefest of ripples into the general public, the mainstream press, or the halls of academia. The double impact of the film JFK plus the publication of Newman’s book had the effect of a shotgun blast at close range. Newman had labored over his book for ten years. Completely by coincidence, it was being finished at the time Oliver Stone was filming his movie of Jim Garrison’s book On the Trail of the Assassins. And it fit in perfectly with the film because this is something that Garrison sincerely believed in at the time of his prosecution of Clay Shaw. (He had garnered this from things like the Sorenson book plus another source that I will reveal in Part Five of my review of Reclaiming History, which discusses Vincent Bugliosi’s treatment of both Garrison and Stone.) So in the immense controversy that followed the film—and actually preceded it—Newman’s book figured prominently. For instance, when it came out in 1992, Arthur Schlesinger reviewed it on the front page of the New York Times Book Review.

    After the controversy subsided, Newman’s book began to have an impact in academia. The reason it took awhile is because his book absolutely humiliated many of the previous standard bearers in the Vietnam field. Like say Halberstam, and Stanley Karnow, and William Conrad Gibbons. The book was so clear and logically argued that the question became: How could all of these so called “scholars” have acted like lemmings and missed this easily delineated dividing line? In the aforementioned Gardner book, Newman states that the underlying tow is the collective attempt to deny that the Vietnam War was, contrary to popular belief, not an inevitable tragedy. (p. 158) That who actually occupies the Oval Office does make a difference. (p. 159) And Vietnam if Kennedy Had Lived furthers this argument substantially. Once an historical paradigm is set, it is very difficult to surmount it. Even if it is wrong. That’s because, contrary to popular belief, there is strong pressure in the academic world not to rock the boat, not to break out of preconceived paradigms. That is, to become part of the Establishment. Much of this comes down through the influence of foundations, conservative think tanks, and of course, the CIA’s influence on campus. Two men written about in Probe previously, Thomas Reeves and Max Holland, are good examples of this.

    But, for reasons stated above, JFK and Vietnam could not be denied. Slowly but surely it began to turn the paradigm around. The shocking thing about the book is that, not only did it enrage the conservatives; it also infuriated the so-called Leftist leaders at the time, namely Alexander Cockburn and Noam Chomsky. Galbraith’s 2003 article in Boston Review, using the since declassified record, negates the rather silly arguments of both polemicists. (And I will detail this further in Part Five of the Bugliosi review.) And the great triumph of Newman ‘s work is that the documents declassified by the Assassination Records Review Board (ARRB) only fortify what he wrote. Because of that, other historians who wrote after him, followed in his footsteps: LBJ broke with Kennedy’s policies on Vietnam. This included David Kaiser in American Tragedy, Robert Dallek in An Unfinished Life, and Howard Jones in Death of a Generation. Two other books which should be mentioned in this regard which favor Kennedy not Americanizing the war, but are more equivocal in their judgments, are the works of the aforementioned Logevall and Lawrence Freedman’s ironically titled Kennedy’s Wars. (I say “ironically” because the book comes to the conclusion that Kennedy was determined not to get involved in any wars.)

    II

    This book takes a leap forward. Because at the end of the conference a vote was taken on whether, if he had lived, Kennedy would have Americanized the war. Half the respondents said he would not have and would have withdrawn. Thirty percent said he would have escalated as Johnson did. And twenty percent said it was too difficult to say. (p. 210)

    Let me add here, the discussion of the issue is quite wide ranging. As the film did, the book takes in the other opportunities Kennedy had to get involved in wars, which he refused to do. The authors put great weight on Kennedy’s acceptance of failure at the Bay of Pigs rather than sending in American forces, which Admiral Arleigh Burke wanted him to do. As many commentators do, including myself, they see this as a defining moment in President Kennedy’s presidency. In the document section of the book, they print three memoranda that depict Kennedy’s reaction to the disaster he was led into by the CIA. Clearly, Kennedy went through a definite pattern after the Bay of Pigs: shock and dismay at his advisers, feedback as to what exactly had gone wrong, and how the debacle had now placed America in the eyes of its trusted allies abroad. In other words, he grew from the experience. And the book also notes briefly, the two reports that were issued as a result of the Bay of Pigs: the presidentially commissioned Taylor Report, and the internal CIA report by Inspector General Lyman Kirkpatrick. Both of the reports concluded that the operation was poorly planned and weakly reviewed. As writers like Paul Fay have noted, Kennedy vowed that he would never again accept the advice of his CIA and Pentagon advisers without grilling them at length and in depth.

    What is important about this episode is that it occurs just seven months prior to the first dramatic milestone in Kennedy’s conduct of the Vietnam War. In the fall of 1961, Maxwell Taylor and assistant National Security Adviser Walt Rostow went to Vietnam. They then delivered a report to Kennedy in late October. The recommendation was that, since the Viet Cong were gaining strength and Ngo Dinh Diem’s position was weakening, the time had come for the USA to commit combat troops to the conflict. The debate on this issue lasted for over two weeks. It appears that the only person resisting the siren song of direct military intervention was President Kennedy. One of the real valued documents included in the book is what is probably the only set of notes taken on this debate. They are by White House military aide Col. Howard Burris (pgs 282-283). They deserve to be summarized and paraphrased at length. Here is the gist of it:

    Kennedy stated that Vietnam is not a clear-cut case of aggression as it was in Korea. He says that the conflict in Vietnam is “more obscure and less flagrant.” Kennedy notes that in a situation such as Vietnam, allies are needed even more since the USA would be subject to intense criticism from abroad. He compared the record of the past, where the Vietnamese had resisted foreign forces who had spent millions against them with no success. He then compared the situation in Berlin with Vietnam, saying that in Berlin you had a well-defined conflict whereas the Vietnam situation was obscure. So obscure that you might soon even have Democrats in his own party bewildered by it. Especially since you would largely be fighting a guerilla force, and “sometimes in a phantom-like fashion.” Kennedy said that because of this, the base of operations for American troops would be insecure. At the end of the discussion Kennedy turned the conversation to what would be done next in Vietnam, “rather than whether or not the US would become involved.” I should add, during the talk, Kennedy turned aside attempts by Dean Rusk, Robert McNamara, McGeorge Bundy and Lyman Lemnitzer to derail his thought process. Kennedy had learned his lesson well.

    One of the most important discoveries in the volume is that in the mid-nineties, National Security Advisor Bundy had decided to write a book about his experience with Kennedy and Johnson over Vietnam. His co-author on that endeavor was at the Musgrove Conference. His name is Gordon Goldstein. The two had worked on the book for two years. But Bundy unfortunately passed away in 1996 before it was finished. Goldstein says that one of the great surprises he had in working on the book was that Bundy had virtually no memory of the debate in November of 1961. (p. 76) In fact, Goldstein says that Bundy was actually surprised at 1.) How hawkish he was in the 1961 debate, and 2.) How resistant at all costs Kennedy was. At this time, Bundy actually wrote a memo to Kennedy in which he recommended a force of 25,000 troops be sent because South Vietnam actually wants to be part of the USA! (pgs 280-281) How resistant was Kennedy to all this? When General Max Taylor tried to sneak 8,000 combat troops in for “flood relief” purposes, Kennedy consulted with an agriculture expert to prove you didn’t need them for that purpose. (p. 77) After two years of delving into the record, Bundy had come to the conclusion that Kennedy would not have committed combat troops to Vietnam. As he told Goldstein: “Kennedy very definitely was not going to Americanize the war in Vietnam; and Lyndon Johnson very definitely, from the moment he succeeded Kennedy was going to do whatever it took to win the war in Vietnam, including sending US combat forces in large numbers … ” (p. 53, emphasis added. The phrase in italics is a key point I will return to later.) This now makes it unanimous. The three men in closest proximity to Kennedy concerning military strategy are now on record as saying that Kennedy was not going to commit troops to Vietnam: McNamara in his book In Retrospect, Taylor (pgs. 357, 365), and now Bundy.

    Another point the book makes is that it nails Walt Rostow. As I said, Rostow accompanied Taylor on the Vietnam trip of 1961. Rostow was one of the biggest hawks in the White House up until Kennedy’s 11/61 decision to increase the advisors but not to send in combat troops. This decision was memorialized in NSAM 111, in late November of 1961. Right after this, Kennedy got so tired of Rostow’s memoranda suggesting further American commitment to Vietnam-like invading the north with a million man US army—that he took him out of the White House and placed him in the Policy Planning Department of the State Department. (p. 182) Now, Rostow writes his myriad hawkish memos for Rusk to read. And they seem to have had an effect. Because when Johnson took over, Rusk now became a real hawk on the war. (p. 154) But further, when Bundy decided to resign as National Security Advisor, he suggested two men to replace him: Thomas Hughes or Moyers. Johnson rejected them both. He placed Walt Rostow in the job. Johnson had to have known what he was getting with Rostow. Because he was around for the debates of November of 1961. He knew that the Taylor-Rostow Report recommended American combat troops. He had to have known that Kennedy argued eloquently and soundly against the commitment of combat troops. After all, Howard Burris, the man who wrote the memo containing Kennedy’s arguments—which I quoted from above—was working for Johnson. So when LBJ rescued Rostow from his figurative Siberia in the State Department, he knew what he was getting. And he would have recalled him only if he knew that Rostow’s agenda coincided with his own. Which was to escalate the war. (p. 175) In fact, when Rostow was appointed National Security Advisor, he told Johnson about Kennedy’s “deep commitment to the independence of Vietnam from which he would not have retreated.” (p. 152) According to Chester Cooper, Rostow looked upon negotiations as tantamount to surrender. Rostow wanted a simple goal: an independent South Vietnam. By 1965-66, the actual goal of both Johnson and Rostow was this: “Bringing the Vietnamese communists to their knees via continuously escalating the level of punishment they received from US air and ground forces until the communists gave up.” (p. 179) This was nothing but a delusional fantasy. And Kennedy understood this in 1961 from 1.) His visits to Vietnam during the French imperialist war there in the fifties, 2.) Through his talks with MacArthur, and 3.) His conversations with DeGaulle.

    After this November 1961 decision and the reassignment of Rostow, Kennedy went to Seattle and made a speech. This is the day after NSAM 111 is signed. He talked about how America had to be cautious on the world stage because any crisis might escalate into a catastrophic nuclear war. He specifically mentioned how the massive amount of US firepower could be rendered useless by guerilla warfare and infiltration. He then added that although the US could ship arms abroad, it was up to those peoples to use them correctly and for the right ideals. We could not impose our will on others, and there could not be “an American solution to every problem.” (pgs. 287-288) These were wise and prophetic words, which Rostow and Johnson did not understand or even wish to comprehend.

    III

    One of the most fascinating parts of the book is the discussion of the role of Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara in Kennedy’s administration. When Kennedy sent Rostow and Taylor to Vietnam in the fall of 1961, he seems to have understood what they would come back with. After all, JFK fully comprehended what Rostow was about pretty quickly. What I will discuss next reveals just how wise Kennedy had become and how smart he was at maneuvering the people in his own Cabinet after the Bay of Pigs. Almost concurrently with the trip by Rostow and Taylor, he also sent John Kenneth Galbraith to Vietnam. (p.129) He realized that what Galbraith wrote up would counter the Rostow-Taylor recommendations. It did of course. But Kennedy did not throw this report out for open discussion. He told Galbraith to give it to McNamara only. This becomes crucial in any discussion of Vietnam in the JFK administration. Because as the book notes, after the issuance of NSAM 111, the only person in the Cabinet who seems to understand what Kennedy is headed for is McNamara. And in fact, Howard Jones discovered that Roswell Gilpatric, McNamara’s Deputy Secretary, talked about the fact that Kennedy eventually entrusted his boss with putting together a withdrawal plan. He referred to it as “part of a plan the president asked him [McNamara] to develop to unwind this whole thing.” (p. 371) This began in earnest in 1962 when McNamara went to the Joint Chiefs and told them to put together a plan for withdrawal. As Jim Douglass wrote in his fine book JFK and the Unspeakable, the Chiefs dragged their feet on this one for a year. Finally at the so-called SecDef conference of May 1963, they presented a plan to the Secretary. He criticized it as being too slow. (pgs 288-291) After telling them to hurry it along, he had a taped conversation with Kennedy and Bundy in October of 1963. He told Kennedy the military mission of the US would be completed by 1965, and if it were not, the South Vietnamese would be ready by then to take it over. Bundy then interjects, “What’s the point of doing that?” McNamara replies, “We need a way to get out of Vietnam. This is a way of doing it. And to leave forces there when they’re not needed, I think is wasteful and complicates both their problem and ours.”

    The above ARRB declassified tape was heard and shown on screen in the accompanying film to this book. When played at the conference its effect was startling. (pgs 100, 124) Why? Because mainstream writers like Karnow and Halberstam had always depicted Vietnam as McNamara’s War. Plus much of the documentation showing this as false had been concealed from the public. In fact, Goldstein actually asked, “Who is the Robert McNamara on these tapes?” To me the comment by Bundy—”What’s the point of doing that?”—is the key. As Gilpatric explained, and Galbraith elucidated, McNamara was appointed by JFK to be his point man on the withdrawal. He was going to drive it home with occasional encouragement from Kennedy. This “back channel” idea was endorsed by James Galbraith, who talked about it with his father. John Kenneth Galbraith told his son that JFK often operated like this. In James Galbraith’s words about McNamara at the conference: “Kennedy and he [McNamara] were agreed in advance that this was the course of policy they were going to follow. That was a position they didn’t share … with virtually no one else. They then imposed this, with McNamara playing the role of giving the argument he already knows Kennedy is going to accept, because Kennedy told him to do it.” (p. 129) This concept was posthumously endorsed through Bundy. When co-author Goldstein talked to Bundy about why McNamara switched so quickly from endorsing combat troops in November of 1961 to being so dovish a month later, Bundy said there was only one answer to explain the apparent paradox. Kennedy had asked him to do so. (p. 125) In fact, McNamara was so immersed in making the withdrawal plan work that he asked the State Department intelligence group (INR) to give him more optimistic scenarios of what was happening on the ground. (p. 117) According to Newman, this was probably done because once the CIA and Pentagon realized Kennedy was going to withdraw, they began to change their intelligence estimates from rosy to pessimistic. And further, they backdated the revisions to July of 1963. (Newman, JFK and Vietnam, p. 425, 441 Gardner and Gittinger, p. 172) Realizing Kennedy’s plan to use the false and rosy estimates to hoist them on their own petard—that is, to withdraw US forces since they were not needed anymore—the CIA and Pentagon began to fight back.

    What this all says of course is that, as in the Cuban Missile Crisis, Kennedy understood that his Cabinet and military advisers were not giving him what he wanted fast enough. In October of 1962, he worked secretly through his brother Robert Kennedy, and to a lesser extent with Rusk. This time around he worked with McNamara, and to a lesser extent with Galbraith. With McNamara running interference, NSAM 263, ordering the withdrawal of the first thousand advisers from Vietnam was signed in October of 1963. (It should be added here that the death of the Nhu brothers in November of 1963 had no effect on the withdrawal plan. See page 372) The press release that announced NSAM 263 also stated that this first thousand troop draw down was part of a phased withdrawal of the major part of all US forces. And that withdrawal would be completed by the end of 1965. (p. 300)

    Finally, when Chairman of the Joint Chiefs Max Taylor wrote his memo on NSAM 263 to the service Chiefs, there was no mention about the withdrawal being contingent upon victory. (pgs 106, 110) This is a myth promulgated by anti-Kennedy polemicist Noam Chomsky. Virtually no one at this conference bought it.

    IV

    Ever since the portrayal of Lyndon Johnson’s role in the escalation of the Vietnam War was dramatically depicted in Oliver Stone’s film JFK, there has been an attempt by some e.g. Michael Beschloss and Vincent Bugliosi, to soften that image. What these two try to say is that Johnson was a reluctant warrior who was manipulated by others into plunging America into an epic tragedy that needlessly consumed the lives of over 58,000 Americans and two million Vietnamese. In other words Stone and John Newman (who served as a consultant on the film) got it wrong. They unfairly distorted what Johnson’s real role was in this affair. What this book shows, and with utter finality, is this: it is Beschloss and Bugliosi who have it wrong. If anything, Stone and Newman were being kind to Johnson. The reality is actually worse. And the recall of Walt Rostow to commandeer the escalation is only part of it. The book brings in a new angle: Johnson understood that he was breaking with Kennedy’s policy, and he consciously tried to cover his tracks.

    The story begins with the alterations in NSAM 273. This was the rough draft of a presidential order as assembled by Kennedy’s advisers in Hawaii just prior to Kennedy’s trip to Dallas. The conference there was meant to make any necessary adjustments to Vietnam policy after the death of the Ngo Dinh Diem and his brother. Because of his murder in Dallas, the rough draft of this order, actually written by Bundy, was never signed by President Kennedy. The opening of the draft said that the US mission was still to assist the Government of South Vietnam against the Communist insurgency. It also mentioned that the US intended to withdraw as made clear by the White House announcement of October. Paragraph seven stated that there should be actions against North Vietnam using South Vietnamese resources, especially sea resources. (Newman, p. 440, emphasis added)

    At Johnson’s first Vietnam meeting on November 24, 1963 there was a quite different tone and attitude than anything Kennedy had said with his Cabinet. The new president stated clearly, “I am not going to lose Vietnam. I am not going to be the president who saw Southeast Asia go the way China went.” He ordered South Vietnamese Ambassador Henry Cabot Lodge to “tell the generals in Saigon that Lyndon Johnson intends to stand by our word.” (Newman, p. 442) This is rather an odd thing to say. Because the word prior to Dallas was that the USA was intending to withdraw and turn the war over to South Vietnam. Johnson then said that he was unhappy with our emphasis on social reforms, he had little tolerance for the US trying to be “do-gooders”. (ibid, p. 443) He then added that he had “never been happy with our operations in Vietnam.” (ibid) His intent was clear: it was to win the war. (McNamara, In Retrospect, p. 102) He then issued a stern warning: He wanted no more dissension or division over policy. Any person that did not conform would be removed. (This would later be demonstrated by his banning of Hubert Humphrey from Vietnam meetings when Humphrey advised Johnson to rethink his policy of military commitment to Vietnam.) When the meeting was over, Bill Moyers remained in the room with Johnson. LBJ said, “So they’ll think with Kennedy dead we’ve lost heart … they’ll think we’re yellow …” Moyers asked whom he was referring to. Johnson replied the Chinese and the Russians. Moyers asked his boss what he was going to do now. Johnson said he was going to give the generals what they wanted, more money. LBJ continued by saying that he was not going to let Vietnam slip away like China did. He was going to tell those generals in Saigon “to get off their butts and get out in those jungles and whip the hell out of some Communists.” (Newsweek, 2/10/75)

    It’s hard to believe, but it is imperative to remember: this is just 48 hours after Kennedy’s death. As the book notes, Johnson’s presidential style was completely different from Kennedy’s. And it locked him into his blinkered view of Vietnam. He tended to personalize the war. He was intolerant of dissent. He wanted to intimidate the opposition. Both in the White House, and on the battlefield. (p. 192) By the summer of 1965, Johnson had so cowed any dissent within his Cabinet that after he had already committed 85,000 combat troops to Vietnam, Gen Westmoreland actually requested another 85,000. LBJ called for a meeting and asked for a vote. The minutes of this meeting end with: “There was no response when the president asked whether anyone in the room opposed the course of action decided upon.” (p. 193) Westmoreland got his troops.

    This drastic change in tone accomplished two things. First, it gave the signal to the hawks and closet hawks that, unlike with JFK, they would now have Johnson’s ear. Secondly, the altered intelligence reports about the declining fortunes on the battlefield would now have their intended effect. Bundy now changed the rough draft of NSAM 273 in accordance with Johnson’s “stronger views on the war”. (Newman, p. 445) First, in keeping with Johnson’s “no dissension or division” reprimand, the new NSAM expressly forbade any public criticisms of the war effort. Second, paragraph seven about South Vietnamese operations against the north was rewritten. And it was rewritten in a way that allowed the US to participate in these covert operations against North Vietnam. (ibid, p. 446) Thus began OPLAN 34A, which was submitted to Johnson less than a month later. Johnson approved it on January 16, 1964. This resulted in Operation DESOTO, consisting of US maritime patrols acquiring visual, electronic, and photographic intelligence in the Tonkin Gulf. These patrols began on February 28, 1964. In early August, the second patrol resulted in the North Vietnamese attack on the US destroyer Maddox. And this opened the door to the Tonkin Gulf Resolution, which Johnson vigorously pursued as his approval to begin the US air war against North Vietnam. And these first air strikes were considered by Ho Chi Minh to be acts of war by the USA. (p. 162) As the air war intensified—eventually turning into the colossal Operation Rolling Thunder—the US needed protection for the air bases being built. So in early March of 1965, just seven months after the Maddox incident, the first US combat troops arrived in South Vietnam. And 1965 was the year Kennedy had intended to complete his withdrawal plan—after he was reelected. Johnson did the opposite. He inserted combat troops after his reelection. As Newman notes in JFK and Vietnam, the November 1964 election was used by Kennedy to disguise a withdrawal. Johnson used it to disguise his plan for intervention. (Newman, p. 442) In fact, Johnson essentially said this to the Joint Chiefs in December of 1963. He told them at a Christmas party, “Just get me elected, and then you can have your war.” (Stanley Karnow, Vietnam, p. 326)

    V

    Much of the above is taken from Newman’s 1992 book. In working with John after meeting him in 1993, he told me that one of the problems he had in writing JFK and Vietnam was that the CIA eventually found out what he was doing. And they would visit archival institutions—like the Hoover Institute at Stanford—and remove certain things in advance.

    This problem was alleviated by the arrival of the ARRB. I say alleviated. It was not completely cured. For instance, although the ARRB interviewed several people who attended the Honolulu Conference of November 1963, none of them could produce the stenographic record of the meeting. In late 1997, the Board released the records of the SecDef Conference in May of 1963. This was McNamara’s meeting with his Vietnam advisers in Hawaii. Clearly, at this meeting, McNamara is hurrying the withdrawal plan. And as I wrote in Probe, (Vol. 5 No. 3) “On page after page of these documents, at every upper level of the Pentagon, everyone seems aware that Kennedy’s withdrawal plan will begin in December of 1963 … and this would be the beginning of an eventual complete withdrawal by 1965.” (p. 19) How clear was the message McNamara was carrying for Kennedy? General Earle Wheeler wrote, “that proposals for overt action invited a negative PRESIDENTIAL decision.” (ibid, capitals in original) Compare this to Johnson’s telling the generals to get off their butts and whip hell out of some communists. Also, in the November 26th version of NSAM 273, Johnson ordered “intensified operations against North Vietnam” both overt and covert, covering “the full spectrum of sabotage, psychological and raiding activity.” Further, the intensified operations were also against the country of Laos. These operations could now be made without clearance from the State Department. Concerning Cambodia, the new order was to show that charges of US clandestine operations against that country were groundless—which they were not—with no actual measures taken to show they were. (ibid) The entry into Laos and Cambodia were also added by LBJ and Bundy and were definitely alterations of Kennedy’s policies.

    But Virtual JFK: Vietnam if Kennedy Had Lived goes even further in this regard. At the 11/24 Cabinet meeting mentioned above, McNamara must have gotten the message that the withdrawal plan was now in the crosshairs of a newly hawkish president. And this surely must have been even more evident when Bundy made the appropriate alterations to NSAM 273 that Johnson desired. But in a newly declassified phone call of 2/20/64 the point that there was a new sheriff in town was hammered home. Johnson told McNamara “I always thought it was foolish for you to make any statements about withdrawing. I thought it was bad psychologically. But you and the president thought otherwise, and I just sat silent.” (p. 310) This is stunning. It clearly denotes that Johnson was aware of what Kennedy was planning. And that he was planning it through McNamara. Further, that he was so opposed to it that he thought it was “foolish”. But since he was in a subordinate position he had to suffer through it. But now he was subordinate no more. And now he was telling the guy who he knew was running the withdrawal plan that it was over.

    In another conversation, less than two weeks later, he actually makes McNamara take back what he said in 1963 about the initial thousand-man withdrawal and the eventual complete withdrawal in 1965. He begins to formulate excuses to say that the plan didn’t really mean that “everybody comes back, that means your training ought to be in pretty good shape that time.” And then Johnson tries to soothe McNamara’s silence over this contradiction—read “lie”—by saying that there was nothing really inconsistent in these new statements he wanted McNamara to make. (ibid) LBJ is consciously breaking with Kennedy’s policy and he is getting Kennedy’s point man on board as he tries to cover his tracks. In January of 1965, Johnson continues this strategy with McNamara. Johnson calls McNamara and tells him that at a Georgetown party the Kennedy crowd had got the word out that Johnson was using CIA Director John McCone “to put the Vietnam War on Kennedy’s tomb. And I had a conspiracy going on to show that it was Kennedy’s immaturity and poor judgment that originally led us into this thing, that got us involved … And that this was my game: to lay Vietnam off onto Kennedy’s inexperience and immaturity and so forth.” (p. 306) Johnson then continues by saying that since McNamara was part of Kennedy’s administration, that he did not resent very much what was said or he would have spoken up. (ibid) Johnson later had Rostow collect all of Kennedy’s public statements supporting the war to show there was no breakage in policy between the two men. Johnson’s co-opting of McNamara was now complete. The war that was unfairly tagged as McNamara’s War was really imposed on him by Johnson.

    But even prior to these conversations, on February 3, 1964 LBJ revealed that he knew what he was going to do way before Rolling Thunder and the commitment of combat troops. In a phone call with John Knight of the Miami Herald, he said that there were three options he had. The first was to get out. But he said the dominoes would now start falling over. “And God Almighty, what they said about us leaving China would just be warming up compared to what they’d say now.” So getting out was eliminated. He then said that “you can sit down and agree to neutralize all of it. But nobody is going to neutralize North Vietnam, so that’s totally impractical.” So now, neutralization was eliminated. “And so it really boils down to … getting out or getting in.” (p. 211) Now if you compare the getting out option with the dominoes falling all over Southeast Asia , and even greater historical Red baiting than losing China, which option do you think Johnson had in mind? And further, what kind of foreign policy thinker compares losing a country the size of China with the narrow peninsula of South Vietnam? Answer: A thinker with—unlike Kennedy—no discrimination or sophistication. As Logevall notes here, Johnson was a hawk from the beginning. With him it was “We can fight them in South Vietnam, or we can fight them in San Francisco.” (p. 169)

    But it was actually even worse than that. Johnson was so shallow in his foreign policy views that he actually compared losing South Vietnam with what Neville Chamberlain did with Hitler at Munich! He actually said this to biographer Doris Kearns. (Lyndon Johnson and the American Dream, p. 264) He then added, “And I knew that if we let Communist aggression succeed in taking over South Vietnam, there would follow in this country an endless national debate … that would shatter my presidency, kill my administration, and damage our democracy.” (He was exactly wrong of course. It was his prosecution of the war that destroyed his presidency.) Incredibly, he then compared the loss of China and the rise of McCarthy and the Red Scare with the loss of South Vietnam. After comparing them, he actually said the loss of the latter would be worse! “Losing the Great Society was a terrible thought, but not so terrible as the thought of being responsible for America’s losing a war to the Communists. Nothing could possibly be worse than that.” This is ignorance that is almost beyond description.

    But it is particularly stark when compared with what Bundy told Goldstein Kennedy was planning for in his second term. The goals were 1.) A reduction in East-West tensions 2.) Reduction in nuclear weapons held by the US and USSR 3.) Strict arms control, and 4.) Normalization of relations with China. (p. 227) If anyone thinks Bundy was talking through his hat, Dean Rusk vouched for the China venture.

    Further contravening Beschloss and Bugliosi, Johnson could not wait for a confirmation of the second attack on the Maddox in the Gulf of Tonkin. There was real confusion about whether such an attack occurred. And it turned out that it had not. But in listening to the dialogue between Admiral Sharp, McNamara and Johnson it became clear that Sharp’s efforts to discern the truth “were gradually eclipsed by the need LBJ felt to order some kind of retaliation and to do it quickly.” (p. 379) To me, all the above is indicative of a man who has been thoroughly indoctrinated into the complete, and false, paradigm of the Cold War. As Richard Mahoney showed in JFK: Ordeal in Africa, Kennedy had not been so indoctrinated. So the agony and depression LBJ felt as the Vietnam disaster unfolded was in part because he knew there were other options he could have chosen. And unlike Kennedy, he had not. As Moyers stated, “He knew more than anyone in the room what it was going to cost him: everything, as he kept saying, was on the table. His agenda, and lives, and knowing more than anyone else, he still made the choice. It was his to make; no one made it for him.” (p. 197)

    The book is well worth buying. In my view, it closes the chapter on a debate that has been going on since 1992. As shown here, it’s a debate that should have never started.

  • James Blight, Virtual JFK (Part 1)


    Virtual JFK:  Vietnam if Kennedy Had Lived


    Part Two of this essay reviews the book accompanying this film, which has the same title.

    Part Three, Virtual JFK 3: Gordon Goldstein’s Lessons in Disaster


    See the Virtual JFK web site.


    Virtual JFK: Vietnam if Kennedy Had Lived is introduced by historian James Blight as a “What if” film. That is, it tries to recast and reshape history as if some definite historical event had not happened. For example, what if Robert E. Lee had not invaded the North and met disastrous defeat at Gettysburg? What if Hitler had not overruled his generals and postponed the invasion of Russia until the next April, instead of the delayed June launch in 1941? Would world events have turned out differently?

    The film takes this point of view with President John Kennedy and the war in Vietnam. The question: If Kennedy had lived, would the Vietnam War have escalated into the colossal disaster it did under President Johnson? Director Koji Masutani and James Blight take a rather unique approach to this question. What they do is examine the number of opportunities President Kennedy had to go to war previously in his administration. They then prognosticate what he would have done in Vietnam based upon that record. Although others have done this to a limited degree, I don’t recall anyone else doing it over the expanse of time and multiplicity of instances as Blight and Masutani do here.

    The documentary begins with an aerial view over Vietnam while some statistics are shown to the viewer. They are quite familiar to anyone who has read up on this issue. There were 16,000 advisers in Vietnam during Kennedy’s last year in office. In 1968, right before the Tet Offensive, Lyndon Johnson had committed over half a million ground troops to the conflict. And the air war that raged over the country was the largest in history. Which, considering what the Allies did to Japan and Germany in 1944 and 1945, is saying something.

    From here Masutani cuts to Blight in an image that seems borrowed from Errol Morris, the godfather of the modern documentary. Blight, just about full figure, is standing in front of what looks like a huge cyclorama, which is colored a kind of liquid silver. Blight begins with an explanation of the Cold War. How the accumulation of atomic weapons precluded any direct confrontation between the USA and Russia. Therefore, the American war in Vietnam started out as a proxy war with the Russians and Chinese aiding the north and the USA helping the south. The question then becomes, how did that initial proxy confrontation turn into direct American involvement on such a massive scale? And secondly, would Kennedy have gone along with it?

    Here, Blight and Masutani begin an examination of six instances during Kennedy’s presidency. They posit each of these as incidents that Kennedy could have used as casus belli to escalate into war. In fact, Blight later adds that no other president he knows faced this many temptations in such a short period of time as President Kennedy. Which is probably true. At least I can’t think of another president who was faced with these many tension filled episodes in three years.

    The first was the Bay of Pigs invasion of April 1961. Here was a poorly planned and weakly reviewed operation left over from the Eisenhower administration. CIA Director Allen Dulles and Director of Plans Richard Bissell kept the written blueprints close to the vest. To the point they would not even let JFK take them home with him. And two predictions that the CIA made to Kennedy did not come true and sealed defeat for the invaders. First, there was no general uprising on Cuba to support the exile attack. And secondly, Castro was able to get enough armor into position to stop the beachhead from forming. At this point, Blight points out something that JFK did which sealed defeat for the Cuban exile force. Admiral Arleigh Burke was off the horizon heading a Navy fleet at the time. Realizing all would be lost if the USA did not intervene, he asked Kennedy for permission to intercede. Kennedy called Burke and told him not to. He had no desire to get into a war in a tropical jungle 90 miles away from Florida. Richard Nixon, the action officer for the operation under Eisenhower told Kennedy he would intercede if it were his call. And he later snickered about JFK choosing failure.

    Blight very smartly emphasizes Kennedy’s altered demeanor after this debacle. Those close to him said Kennedy was shocked by what had happened. He would sit through meetings about it and not say anything for 45 minutes. Clearly, during those many days in his private purgatory, Kennedy was reevaluating those around him who had all endorsed the plan. This was a turning point in who he decided to trust from here on in.

    The second incident mentioned is the Laotian Crisis of 1961. This is a subject that had been relatively ignored by most historians. So I am glad it gets brought up here. The best treatment of it that I have seen is in David Kaiser’s volume American Tragedy. When Eisenhower left office, he actually told Kennedy that Laos was more important on the world stage than Vietnam. Kennedy decided to act fast on this and negotiate a settlement with the Russians. The Pathet Lao, aided by both the Soviets and North Vietnamese, was making strong progress against the anti-Communist Prince Boun Oum. In early 1961, the Pathet Lao opened a strong offensive on the Plain of Jars, which the Royal Laotian Army under General Phoumi Nosavan could not contain. Kennedy alerted the Army and Navy units in the Pacific, CinCPac, to go on alert. With this stick in hand, Kennedy then began to extend the carrot of a cease-fire. This was achieved in Geneva, with fourteen nations convening a conference in May of 1961. As Blight notes, not one American combat troop set foot in Laos.

    The third episode was the Berlin Crisis of late 1961. In the summer of 1961, the Russians and East Germans were worried about the great number of emigrants fleeing from East to West Berlin. They began to take up preparations to build the Berlin Wall. On August 13, 1961, the border between the two cities was closed. Then construction teams were sent out to start erecting the wall. On August 30th, JFK called up 148, 000 reservists. The KGB started a wide-ranging diversionary plan to stir up trouble in places like Central America and Africa. The crisis was clearly escalating into high gear. At this point, 10/22/61, Army General Lucius Clay decided to send diplomat Albert Hemsing to East Berlin to see if the Soviets and East Germans would allow him to travel into East Germany as provided for by the 1945 Potsdam Conference. They let him proceed. But the next day, a British diplomat was stopped and his passport was seized. Five days later, Clay asked Hemsing to try again. But, in advance, and without Kennedy’s permission, he sent tanks and an infantry battalion to a nearby airfield. Hemsing was allowed to proceed but the Russians now moved 33 tanks to the Brandenburg Gate. Clay’s tanks now moved opposite the Russian tanks. As the film notes, Kennedy called Clay and told him he wanted the tanks removed. Russian Premier Khrushchev and JFK now talked and decided to mutually remove the tanks. As the film notes, Kennedy ended up being grateful for the Berlin Wall. As historian John Lewis Gaddis notes, Kennedy later stated, “It’s not a very nice solution, but a wall is a hell of a lot better than a war.” (The Cold War: A New History, p. 115)

    The fourth incident took place in November of 1961 and concerned a crucial tactical decision about American involvement in Vietnam. In October of 1961, there was a debate raging within the administration on whether or not to commit combat troops to South Vietnam to support the failing regime of Ngo Dinh Diem. Kennedy decided to send Gen. Maxwell Taylor and National Security Assistant Walt Rostow to Vietnam for an on the ground inspection. While there, Taylor suggested to Diem committing 8,000 US combat troops to the area. Diem enthusiastically agreed. (John Newman, JFK and Vietnam, p. 133) When Taylor and Rostow returned, a two week long drama was enacted over their recommendation. On November 22, 1961 Kennedy issued National Security Action Memorandum (NSAM) 111. It increased the number of advisers, but it committed no combat troops. And further, it made no commitment to saving South Vietnam from communism. As John Newman notes, this NSAM was a milestone in Kennedy’s Vietnam policy. First, it drew a line in the sand: Kennedy was not going to commit combat troops to the area. Even when things looked desperate and the fate of the country was in the balance. Second, learning from the Bay of Pigs, he was now more than willing to buck the opinions of both the generals and his advisers on a subject they perceived as vital to American national security. (Newman, p. 138)

    The fifth episode was, of course, the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962. Here President Kennedy again refused to take the advice of both his military commanders and his chief advisers. As with Vietnam in November of 1961, when virtually everyone in the room told him to either invade or launch an air attack, he chose not to. Instead he decided to blockade the island. And meanwhile he worked out a back channel with the Russians through his brother Robert Kennedy and Russian diplomat Georgi Bolshakov. A potential attack on the island was averted. As was probably nuclear war. Since, as was later discovered, in addition to the atomic missiles the Russians had transported to the island, they had also given the Cubans tactical nukes which were portable. The Cubans controlled these. And if any American invasion had crossed the Caribbean, Che Guevara was urging Castro to use them.

    The sixth and last incident was the announcement of Kennedy’s Vietnam withdrawal plan in the fall of 1963. This announcement actually began in earnest in May of 1963. Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara made it clear at his conference in Hawaii with State Department and military personnel from Vietnam that President Kennedy wanted to begin a phased withdrawal. And he wanted the South Vietnamese to begin taking over the war. Secondly, he wanted to achieve a thousand man American troop withdrawal by the end of the year. (Newman, p. 359) This was then accelerated by the McNamara/Taylor trip to Saigon in September. And also by Kennedy’s hand in writing the report based on that trip. During which he explicitly told McNamara he did not want a coup attempt against Diem. (ibid, p. 401) The report included the thousand man withdrawal. This recommendation was then formalized in NSAM 263, which was signed on October 11th. The film includes little of the above factual background. It concentrates on a phone conversation between McNamara and JFK in which they discuss the need to find a way to get out of Vietnam. And it then follows this up with the McNamara-Taylor Report as the device to arrange the withdrawal around. Blight then intones that Kennedy was willing to risk failure in Vietnam rather than commit US combat troops.

    The film then cuts to a snippet of the Zapruder film: Kennedy being assassinated in Dallas. We then watch the terrain of Vietnam from B-52’s flying overhead. Blight then says that with the historical models established beforehand, it seems unlikely that Kennedy would have committed to Vietnam.

    The film concludes with what I think is its best section: the Johnson reversal of Kennedy’s policy. It takes a different angle here by saying that due to the landslide election of 1964, Johnson had heavy majorities in both houses of Congress. Therefore he had a wide leeway politically for whatever his policy in Vietnam was going to be. In February of 1965, Vice-President Hubert Humphrey wrote him a memo strongly advising LBJ not to continue the escalation of the war that he had started after the Tonkin Gulf Incident of August 1964. Which, of course, is just eight months after Kennedy’s death. Humphrey wrote that this policy had already damaged America’s credibility with its allies. But further, the South Vietnamese government was a mess, and it seemed the Viet Cong rebels were winning. To escalate further would involve the USA in a war that would be fought without the generals really knowing what they were doing. This was a prophetic warning. What did Johnson do in reaction to these wise words? As the film notes, he did three things: 1.) He had Humphrey blackballed from further policy meetings on Vietnam 2.) He had surveillance placed on him, and 3.) He told National Security Adviser McGeorge Bundy to keep an eye on who Humphrey was talking to.

    One month later, Johnson unleashed Operation Rolling Thunder in earnest. This would later evolve into the greatest air campaign in military history. That same month, the first detachment of 3, 500 Marines would land at Da Nang. This would eventually expand to 538, 000 combat troops at its pinnacle in 1968. The film notes that by the summer of 1965, five months after the Humphrey memo, 500 American troops were dead. By January of 1967 8,000 were dead. By March of 1968, 19, 000 were dead. As Newman notes, Johnson was so befuddled by what had happened, that around this time period he was actually wondering if his error had been waiting too long to commit combat troops! (ibid, p. 449)

    And with this, the film makes an important point. It concludes that Vietnam wrecked Johnson’s presidency, ravaged his personality and character, and made his family rue the day that he ascended to the presidency. But whatever the personal consequences that make Johnson into a sympathetic figure, and no matter how reluctant he was in this new path, once he became president he committed to it completely. To the point that, as with Humphrey, he would harbor no contrary view. And, as the film notes, this was a huge difference with Kennedy. JFK learned his lesson well on those Cuban beaches in April of 1961. He learned not to implicitly trust his military advisers. Since they always thought they would win. And therefore, if unchallenged, would always paint a rosy scenario. And afterwards, he would have to clean up the mess.

    The film is less than ninety minutes long. And I have added a lot of background detail in the above that is not actually in the film in order to flesh it out more for the reader. I actually wish the film had been longer so it could incorporate more of these facts and more of the revelations of the Assassination Records Review Board. Since these all but closed the book on this ersatz debate about JFK and Vietnam. The only two people who probably think Kennedy was not getting out at the time of his death are Noam Chomsky and Alex Cockburn. And they are not historians. They are political polemicists.

    This now makes four mainstream historians who have come around to the view of Kennedy’s intent to withdraw from Vietnam as expressed in Oliver Stone’s film JFK. First there was David Kaiser’s American Tragedy in the year 2000. Second, there was Robert Dallek’s An Unfinished Life in 2003. Third was Howard Jones’ Death of a Generation published in 2004. And now there is Blight in this film and also an accompanying book. (I should also mention in this regard a volume that preceded these, yet was clearly in line with them: 1995’s In Retrospect, by Robert McNamara.)

    Let me take a moment to pay tribute to the man I believe is behind this paradigm shift, which is one of the hardest things there is to achieve in the field of history. Clearly, but without naming him, this film owes its genesis to John Newman’s splendid 1992 volume JFK and Vietnam. That book was packed with so much factual data that no serious and interested person could dismiss it. Newman took ten years to complete that book. And finally it has begun to take hold in the halls of academia. Just three years after that masterly performance, Newman wrote another extremely important book called Oswald and the CIA. Perhaps no author achieved as much in such a short time as John did in this field. I understand he is retired from it now. He is therefore probably leading a much happier life. If so, works like this film are an homage to his earlier effort. We all owe him thanks.

  • Lamar Waldron, with Thom Hartmann, Legacy of Secrecy – Update


    My review of Legacy of Secrecy was cross-posted at various sites on the web. And Ed Sherry did a mass mailing of it to his large JFK list. This caused some interesting feedback.

    First off, there was a primary witness involved who can shed some light on how President Kennedy felt about the contingency plans. Some of which, like OPLAN 312, I specifically mentioned in my review. Sherry was temporarily based at Homestead AFB in Florida in November of 1962. He was an Army Intelligence officer who monitored the plans and kept track of all circulating copies from dawn to dusk. While in Florida on TDY from Virginia, he was temporary custodian of all 48 copies of the Contingency Plan for two weeks. He knew the subject well as he had typed in many of the revisions and addendums to the original plan. When Kennedy visited the base in late November of 1962, it was Sherry who typed the briefing for him on the plan. About ten days after Kennedy left Florida, Sherry recalls getting a classified code word to cancel the plans and return home. Kennedy was going to keep his word to the Russians about his no invasion pledge of Cuba. Sherry recalls that there were a lot of unhappy officers when JFK canceled the plans. Recall, these were contingency plans JFK was cancelling.

    Second, another reader sent Sherry an e-mail concerning my review. Recall, according to Waldron and Hartmann, the coup was set for December 1, 1963. According to a CIA cable, the plotter in chief, Juan Almeida, was on a flight to Algeria on November 28th. He was the head of a 162 man Cuban delegation that had been arranged well in advance. This is incredible. What are we to believe in light of it? Almeida was going to run the coup and its resulting chaos from Africa? Further, this reader said the National Security Agency was monitoring traffic in Cuba closely at the time. They detected nothing suspicious going on there.

    But it’s even worse than that. The reader (who wishes to remain anonymous) told Waldron about this a long time ago. And in fact, when I learned this, it did ring a bell with me. And sure enough, it is in Legacy of Secrecy. On page 280, Waldron and Hartmann mention the flight to Algeria. Ignoring the fact that the trip had been prearranged, they now try to say that Almeida left because Castro suspected something was going on. But what is the evidence he suspected Almeida? The authors list none. So why did Almeida leave if the coup was to take place within 72 hours, and he was to be running it from the island? If you can believe it, and you probably can, the authors never answer that question. They never even pose it. Since the evidence indicates that Almeida left because there was no coup scheduled, and he was not a part of it. In their nearly fanatical clinging to a discredited theory, Hartmann and Waldron remind us of the likes of David Belin, David Slawson and, even worse, John McAdams.

    But perhaps even more shameful is the way their promoters cling to it also. In my review of Legacy of Secrecy, I mentioned one of them: Mark Crispin Miller. I also could have mentioned another, Gore Vidal. I know through two sources that Miller read my review of Ultimate Sacrifice. This did not stop him from promoting that book on his blog. And he later also praised Legacy of Secrecy. And in terms that are rather unrestrained. (In fact, they remind me of the bought and paid for movie blurbs that adorn the ads for so many lousy films these days.) Take this for example: “Legacy of Secrecy is the astounding sequel to their Ultimate Sacrifice, which came out in 2005; and this new volume is as thorough and meticulous in its research as it ground-breaking predecessor.” Further on, Miller writes, “…the authors demonstrate that the long suppression of the facts about Jack Kennedy ‘s murder set the stage for the killings, five years later, of both Martin Luther King Jr., and Bobby Kennedy.”

    All of this breathless hyperbole makes me ask a sensible question: Did Miller read the books? As I discussed in my review of the latter book, the authors demonstrate no linkage between C-Day and the murders of King and RFK. How the heck could there be? The book says Ray killed King, and the weight of the evidence dictates that Sirhan killed Robert Kennedy. Was Ray in on C-Day? Was Sirhan?

    And the last word I would use to describe the work of Hartmann and Waldron is “meticulous”. Even worse is ” ground-breaking”. What ground did they break? As I mentioned in my review of Legacy of Secrecy, Gus Russo wrote about the contingency plans years before Waldron and Hartmann did. And as I and others have proven nine ways to Sunday, the authors grievously mischaracterize them. And by doing so, they create a false theory, actually a misleading mythology. As for being meticulous, how can Miller write that with a straight face? What kind of meticulous writers deliberately disguise the source for Edwin Black’s wonderful work on the Chicago Plot? And once that is done, the same writers twist that work into something it is not. What kind of authors don’t even look up the proper date of Jim Garrison’s flight to New York with Russell Long? And then attribute something to those two men that could not have happened if they got the date right? Is hiding the name of Bernardo DeTorres from the reader “meticulous”? Is then altering his background from a dyed-in-the-wool CIA officer to a protÈgÈ of Trafficante meticulous? Yes, in one way it is: its meticulously misleading.

    Miller’s mindless praise for these two awful books is so skewed that it made me wonder if he, like Waldron and Hartmann, had an agenda. It turns out he does. And like Vidal, it is to denigrate Oliver Stone’s film JFK. Consider the following: “…the authors show that that long cover-up was driven not by an enormous dark alliance of complicit US agencies and corporations … but by a lot of entities compelled by motives infinitely more prosaic. (Bobby also helped maintain the cover-up.)” Further on, Miller continues that although there was a conspiracy and the Warren Commission was a crock, “all such secrecy was not proof of complicity, as Oliver Stone would have us all believe … Rather, that cover-up but [sic] motivated by a raft of other, largely more innocuous … concerns …”

    Of course, this is exactly what I wrote that the aim of Ultimate Sacrifice was. After my long analysis of how these “meticulous” researchers had altered the evidence, I concluded that they did this to detract from the real evidentiary trail and confabulate out of whole cloth an already discredited one: Robert Blakey’s Mafia did it theory. But they tried to disguise this around their phony C-Day scenario. Which has now collapsed.

    But none of this matters to Miller. Why?

    Because he has enlisted in the Noam Chomsky/Alex Cockburn ranks. Like them, he styles himself a leader of the Left. And he explains how that fits into his agenda about these two volumes: “These books are absolute must-reads because they liberate us from the dangerous assumption … that anyone who dares to speak up for the good will be cut down by violence, at the hands of an almighty, inescapable cabal. That fatalistic view is one that we cannot afford to hold-and one that is, in fact, unfounded, as these two books so powerfully demonstrate.”

    The last thing I would say is that these two books “powerfully demonstrate” their thesis. I have demonstrated that in detail. When the Cuban coup leader is in Africa, you have some problems. When neither the Secretary of Defense, or State, or National Security Adviser or Director of Plans for the CIA knows about your upcoming invasion, you have more problems. When your chief “confessor” is suffering from Alzheimer’s while a jailhouse informant is coaxing him, well, that’s the ball game.

    But, like Chomsky and Cockburn, this is beside the point for Miller. Facts don’t matter. And if facts don’t matter, then truth doesn’t matter either. Why? Because he knows what is good for the progressive public. And if they need to be served up pabulum, so be it.

    I disagree with Miller. But I agree with Bob Tanenbaum, the first Chief Counsel of the JFK investigation for the House Select Committee on Assassinations. And he knows a heck of a lot more about the JFK case than Miller or Vidal do. During a speech in Chicago in 1993, he outlined how the CIA, and especially David Phillips, obstructed his investigation into Oswald’s activities in Mexico City. And when he wanted to confront Phillips with perjury charges the committee backed down. He ended his speech by posing this question: “Does anybody really believe that certain people in the executive intelligence agencies are more equipped to handle the truth than the American people? If so, then we will redefine the nature of our democracy. And that’s something I’m not prepared to do.”

    That’s the real question about all this. The question that Waldron and Hartmann wish to disguise. The question that the likes of Miller and Robert Stone don’t think the American public can handle. So in this regard, and with an almost cosmic irony, Stone and Miller resemble the former heads of the major networks, i.e. Bill Paley and David Sarnoff. Except the pabulum that Waldron and Hartmann give the public is not the old pig in a poke of the Warren Commission. But Blakey’s Mob did it pig. A pig with lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara.

    But only someone either too ignorant or too willing to be gulled would have been taken in by the makeover.

  • Lamar Waldron, Ultimate Sacrifice


    The first time I heard Lamar Waldron’s name was through the auspices of Gus Russo. It was at the famous (or infamous) 1993 ASK Conference in Dallas. Now, after reading Waldron’s book Ultimate Sacrifice (co-written with Thom Hartmann), I think it is relevant and enlightening to describe some of the things that happened back in 1993. Somehow, some way, Russo had been given control over a panel and had also invited some rather odd guests to attend, e.g. Ed Butler. As described elsewhere (see my article on Russo in Probe Vol. 6 No. 2 p. 12) it was at this conference that Russo basically reversed course from his earlier days and went over to the “Krazy Kid Oswald” camp. He had completed work on his shockingly one-sided PBS special and at this conference he and Mark Zaid began to forcefully divorce themselves from any kind of conspiracy angle. For example: The late Larry Harris had gotten several witnesses to arrange themselves in Dealey Plaza. Zaid went there and passed out leaflets attempting to discredit them. Zaid also helmed a panel on Oswald and he proclaimed that Oswald had no ties to the intelligence community. Zaid also was screaming at people who used the Zapruder film to advocate conspiracy: “You know more than Dr. Luis Alvarez, huh!” The conference culminated in a shouting match between Dr. Cyril Wecht and Russo over his loaded PBS special.

    It was during this singular conference that I first heard Lamar Waldron speak. Apparently, Waldron was another one of Russo’s invitees. On the panel he helmed, Russo had given Waldron a solid hour to expound on his “Project Freedom” thesis. This was an extraordinary amount of time: 20-25 minutes had been the outer limits before Waldron appeared. The talk Waldron gave has become one of the main concepts of the book under discussion. In retrospect, considering where Russo had been and was headed, I now fully understand why he was promoting Waldron. I recall listening to Waldron for about 10 minutes and being puzzled as to how the unconvincing hodge-podge he had assembled fit together. I walked out. When I returned he had fielded a question by mentioning that Robert Kennedy controlled JFK’s autopsy at Bethesda. Even at that time this idea was dubious simply because of, among other things, Pierre Finck’s testimony at the Clay Shaw trial. In light of that evidence I remember thinking: Lamar Waldron has an agenda the size of a football stadium.

    After reading Ultimate Sacrifice I think I was wrong. Lamar Waldron has an agenda the size of the Grand Canyon. I can also see why Waldron needed an hour. The authors are nothing if not long winded. They make the likes of Joan Mellen, Dick Russell (in his revised version), and Noel Twyman look like models of brevity. The book’s text comes in at 786 pages. With photos, exhibits, and footnotes the hardcover edition is 875 pages. It was published by Carroll & Graf, a house that is notorious for skimping on editing, fact, and source checking (see the works of Harrison Livingstone.) As we shall see, this book needed serious help in all those areas. In no way does it justify its length. Most of the book is a tedious rehash of the work of dubious authors, so it could have easily been half as long. And what makes that aspect worse is, when all is said and done, they have not proven any of the central tenets of the volume. Even though, as we shall see, they have brazenly cherry-picked the evidence they present.

    The book is divided into three parts. Part One deals with the so-called discovery of C-Day. That is, a plan for a coup in Cuba to be carried out by the Pentagon and the CIA. This would be coordinated with the murder of Castro by a secret collaborator on the island. The murder would be blamed on the Russians, this would create a crisis on the island and that would precipitate an invasion by a large flotilla of Cuban exiles led by Manuel Artime, Tony Varona, Eloy Menoyo, Manolo Ray and a group of Fort Benning trained Cuban militia. A provisional government would then be erected. This first part of the book also discusses the CIA-Mafia plots against Castro, two previous assassination attempts in Chicago and Tampa and profiles of major players involved in C-Day. (Part of the book’s turgidness comes from repetition. There was no need to discuss the two previous plots against JFK here since they are detailed much later.)

    Part Two deals further with the CIA-Mafia plots, and what they see as the actual perceived build-up to the assassination by the Mob. Part Three is essentially a chronicle of November 1963. It includes longer versions of the Chicago and Tampa attempts, the actual assassination, and how that impacted C-Day, and a final chapter entitled The Legacy of Secrecy, in which the authors trace how the assassination enabled a cover-up of C-Day and how this had an effect on events afterwards.

    If one examines the text, the first of many curious aspects becomes evident. The longest part of the volume is the middle section, which is not actually about C-Day. It is really about the Mob’s motivation, planning, pretexts, and precedents for killing JFK. And this is really the subject of the last section also. So by my rough estimate, about 2/3 of the book is not about what the author’s trumpet as their great discovery. The larger part of the book is actually a kind of concentration and aggrandizement of all the Mob-did-it books rolled into one. As we shall see, this book is actually a new (and fatuous) spin on an old and discredited idea, namely Robert Blakey’s Mob-did-it theory. The reader can see this just by browsing through the footnotes, which I did for this review. The familiar faces are all there: John Davis, Dan Moldea, Blakey, the HSCA volumes, David Scheim, even, startling enough, Frank Ragano. They are all quoted abundantly and, as we shall see, indiscriminately. I can literally say that this book would not exist in its present (bloated) form without that gallery of authors.

    But before dealing with that aspect of the book, let’s deal with Part One, where Waldron and Hartmann present the concept of C-Day to us. The plan I summarized above was scheduled for December 1, 1963, nine days after JFK was killed. The sources for this is a series of CIA documents codenamed AM/WORLD, interviews with former Kennedy Secretary of State Dean Rusk, and a man named Harry Williams who was a friend of Bobby Kennedy’s and was allegedly coordinating this plan with the exiles.

    In the hardcover edition of the book, they do not name the coup leader, but they very strongly hint that it was Che Guevara. They do everything except underline his name in this regard. Whole chapters are written about him. Now, considering that, I had a hard time digesting the logic of AM/WORLD. As anyone would who has read the history of Castro’s revolution. We are to believe that Che Guevara, the man who came to symbolize worldwide Marxist rebellion, would betray that lifetime struggle, murder his partner in revolution, ally himself with the capitalist colossus of the north, and blame the murder of his friend on his Russian communist allies. Further, he would then cooperate in a provisional government with the likes of CIA stooges like Artime and Varona. Had Che Guevara undergone a rapid and extreme conversion without anyone noticing? Did the bearded revolutionary icon really believe that by killing Castro and throwing in his lot with Artime, Varona and the CIA that he would be purifying the communist zeal of 1959 which Castro had somehow subdued?

    To put this strange scenario on the page, the authors leave out some facts that made Che Guevara the living legend he was. And also the facts of his death, when he was hunted down and killed in Bolivia with the help of the CIA. (Poor devil, he actually thought the guys who killed him were his allies.) Let’s fill in some of those expurgated pages. After Castro’s revolution took hold, he began rounding up all the higher ups left over from the Batista government. He then arranged a series of show trials before he imprisoned and/or executed them. The number put before the firing squad is estimated at about four hundred and up. The man in charge of the phony trials and summary executions was Che Guevara. So the idea that he would turn around and be palsy-walsy with Artime and Varona, who were much closer to Batista than to him, is kind of weird. In 1959 he may have had them shot or imprisoned. Second, one of the reasons Che left Cuba is that he wanted to spread the Marxist revolt abroad, whereas Castro was trying to solidify it at home. Yet the authors want us to believe that Guevara would put an end to this foothold right in the place he struggled to establish it. Third, during the Missile Crisis, it was feared that the US would launch a huge armada to invade the island. The Russians had given the Cubans not just ballistic missiles, but tactical nukes. Reportedly these were under the control of the Cubans. It was Che Guevara who urged Castro to use them to vaporize any invasion crossing the Caribbean. If you buy this book, a year later he was inviting them with open arms to take over the island he was willing to partially nuke in order to save. Maybe Che Guevara had a nervous breakdown in the interim? Or did he really believe that Artime, Varona and the CIA would allow him, Ray and Menoyo to construct a leftist paradise after the invasion?

    Evidently, others, like David Talbot in Salon, had some trouble with this aspect of the book. So in the trade paper version, the authors changed their tune. The new identity of the coup leader is Juan Almeida. Now Almeida does not really fit the profile the authors describe in the hardcover version. That is, a person of such enormous stature and appeal that he could seamlessly replace Castro, convincingly blame the murder on the Russians, and then set up this Provisional Government with a group of people who had invaded their country two years ago and then almost nuked it 13 months before. Further, he is still alive and in the titular position of Revolution Commander. There is a recent photo of him with Raul Castro at a session of the National Assembly in Havana. It was after the trade paper version was released. I wonder what the conversation was like between the two when Raul learned of Juan’s plan to murder his brother, and probably him, and turn the country over to the CIA, the Pentagon, and Artime.

    What makes this switch even more bracing is the person who rode to the rescue for Waldron and Hartmann. It was none other than Liz Smith. The same Liz Smith who is always good for a blurb on the books of John Davis. Who is always there for a “Kennedys and the murder of Monroe” spiel (which, predictably, figures in this volume on pp. 402-407). And who has always been an avid promoter of Judith Exner. In fact she penned the last installment before Exner passed away. (Of course, Exner appears here more than once.) In her column in the New York Post dated 9/22/06 she says she found out about the coup leader’s actual identity through some new CIA documents. Hmmm. (She is not known as an ace archival researcher.)

    Another interesting aspect of this coup in Cuba idea is who knew about it and who did not. According to Talbot, Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara did not know. Even though the authors insist that it was more a Pentagon operation than a CIA one. (Even more puzzling: they state on p,. 42 that the operation could rise to the level of a full-scale invasion by US forces. When were they going to tell McNamara, the day before?) And although the authors use Rusk to bolster their claim, he says he did not know about it at the time, but learned about it later. National Security Adviser McGeorge Bundy did not know about it either since he told author David Corn that in 1963, the operations against Cuba were winding down to a dribble. So the three highest Cabinet level officers, who should have known about such an operation, somehow were left in the dark.

    But the authors know who was in the light. They were:

    • Jack Ruby 
    • Guy Banister
    • David Ferrie
    • David Morales
    • Howard Hunt
    • John Martino
    • Richard Nixon
    • Carlos Prio
    • Santo Trafficante
    • Jimmy Hoffa
    • Carlos Marcello
    • Sam Giancana
    • Johnny Roselli
    • David Phillips
    • Rolando Masferer
    • Bernard Barker
    • James McCord
    • Michael Mertz
    • Charlie Nicoletti
    • Gilberto Lopez
    • Richard Cain
    • Frank Sturgis
    • George Nonte

    And I saved the best for last: Lee Harvey Oswald. So the Kennedys were so careless that the word about this secret operation leaked out to people like Ruby and Ferrie; but yet they were paradoxically so careful that they managed to keep it from McNamara. Now some people would think this odd. The authors anticipate this by saying that some people in the administration knew and some did not. They even go to the lengths of depicting meetings at which some know about it and some do not. (p. 51) Even when it’s actually under discussion. Yet, to use a figurative example, McNamara never said to Richard Helms, “Dick, did you say we were sponsoring a coup in Cuba next month?” To which Helms must have replied, “Oh no Bob, the Cubana Coupe is a new car model I’m buying.”

    The aspect of who knew and who did not is so tenuous, so questionable, so minutely balanced on the head of a pin that serious questions arise about those who the authors say were witting. As stated above, Helms was supposed to be knowledgeable about C-Day. Yet there is a revelatory anecdote about this issue in his book, A Look Over My Shoulder (pgs 226-227). Helms got word of a large arms cache that had landed in Venezuela from Cuba. It was allegedly shipped to help some communist guerillas there. In other words, Castro was exporting revolution into South America. Something the Kennedys did not want him to do. Helms was so alarmed by this that he personally went over to see Robert Kennedy to plead his case for emergency action. After all it was three tons of armaments. RFK passed on it and told him to go see the president. He did and he even took over one of the rifles supposedly found, presumably to convince JFK of the urgency of the situation. Here was the casus belli. Yet JFK was non-plussed. But Helms did salvage something for his efforts. He asked for and got a photo of Kennedy.

    What I find so interesting about this episode is the date Helms places it on: November 19, 1963. Did Helms forget C-Day was coming up in 12 days? Did he want to move it up because he knew the Mafia was going to kill JFK? Was it all a silly charade? Or maybe Helms just wanted the picture. But that’s not all. In Joseph B. Smith’s book Portrait of A Cold Warrior (p. 383), he refers to the seizure of this cache of arms. He apparently got some reports on it, and skillful and veteran analyst he was, he quickly deduced it was planted. So if we take Ultimate Sacrifice seriously, Helms went to the trouble of creating a phony provocation when he knew that C-Day was less than two weeks off.

    But the capper is this: both the Helms and Smith books appear in the footnotes to Ultimate Sacrifice.

    David Talbot raised an interesting point about the central thesis. If the Kennedys were sponsoring a coup in Cuba for December 1st, why would the Mafia, and some Cubans, conspire to assassinate him nine days before? It’s especially odd since one would think that the exile Cubans who Waldron and Hartmann say knew about it, like say Masferer and Sturgis, would likely want it to succeed. After all, they had been working for this for years. Interestingly, the authors don’t even mention some of the Cubans who are highly suspect in the JFK case, like say Bernardo DeTorres and Sergio Arcacha Smith. Now, if Smith was involved in JFK’s murder, it is really odd. He was part of the Cuban Revolutionary Council (CRC) as was Varona, who the authors maintain was one of the major players in the operation. Yet Varona apparently never told his colleague Smith. Or maybe there was nothing to tell. For as Bill Davy noted in Probe Magazine (Vol. 7, No. 2, p. 5), FBI informants within the CRC, including leader Jose Miro Cardona, were disgusted with Kennedy in 1963 over his Cuba policy. After a high level meeting in Washington, Cardona came away with the feeling that “the United States policy is now one of peaceful co-existence with Communist Cuba.” More to the point, “the United States has no plan to free Cuba of Communism.” The Justice Department report continued that the CRC’s feeling about the US was “very bad, and they feel they had been abandoned in their fight.” Is this perhaps why people like Smith and DeTorres became suspect in the JFK case and why Smith tried to set up the seemingly pro-Castro Oswald, in order to provoke an attack against Cuba? You won’t read a sentence about that in Ultimate Sacrifice.

    Although the authors mention the Lisa Howard/William Attwood back channel to Castro in the attempt for dÈtente with Cuba, they downplay it (p. 113), and later they actually dismiss it as meaningless. They also do not mention Kennedy’s 1963 letter to Khruschev, which Davy quotes: “I have neither the intention nor the desire to invade Cuba. I consider that it is for the Cuban people themselves to choose their destiny.” (Davy, op. cit.) And of course, Waldron and Hartmann ignore the important Peter Kornbluh article in Cigar Aficionado (summarized in Probe, Vol. 7 No. 1 pp. 8-9). Probably because it paints a quite different picture of the quest for dÈtente. When Castro learned of Kennedy’s death, he told JFK’s envoy in the process, “This is an end to your mission of peace. Everything is changed.” And as Kornbluh notes, Castro was right. LBJ pursued it no further.

    This rigorous, systematic refusal to acknowledge or confront contrary evidence is nowhere more demonstrable than in the treatment of the Bay of Pigs and the Missile Crisis. One would think that in a book concentrating on Cuban-American relations from 1960-63, these two events would get special treatment. One would be dead wrong. Combined they get all of five pages. Even though there have been reams of documents declassified on both events by the Assassinations Records Review Board, they use none of it. Incredibly, they ignore both the CIA Inspector General Report by Lyman Kirkpatrick, and the White House sponsored Taylor Report on the Bay of Pigs. Concerning the Missile Crisis, they fail to quote from the landmark book The Kennedy Tapes, which is the closest thing we have to a verbatim account of the crisis. This was unfortunate for me since I wanted to get their take on why JFK would not OK an invasion during those two events when everyone in the situation room was demanding it, yet he would OK one in 1963 when tensions had decreased and fewer people were egging him on. If you essentially skimp the two incidents, you can dodge the question.

    II

    The second part of the book is about the plotting of the Mafia Dons to assassinate President Kennedy. It also discusses the idea that the Mob discovered the C-Day plan, and then used this to somehow cover up their murder plot. This is the new twist to another Mob based scenario.

    This part of the book is heavily — and I mean heavily — reliant on the authors of three decades ago whose books were spawned by the work of the House Select Committee’s unremitting focus on the Mob. Waldron and Hartmann line them all up and use them profusely and without care: Dan Moldea, John Davis, Robert Blakey and Dick Billings, David Scheim. Even Frank Ragano and Aaron Kohn appear. As we shall see, some of the statements made in this section of the book are rather startling.

    But even I was surprised at what the authors pulled in Chapter 33. Like Joan Mellen, they want to rewrite the history of the CIA-Mafia plots. To do so they question the best source we have on that subject, namely the 1967 Inspector General Report done for Richard Helms at the request of President Johnson. They say it is incomplete and that it leaves out certain aspects. Maybe this is so, and maybe it is not. For instance, there are rumors that the writers of the report actually did interview John Roselli. Did Waldron and Hartmann actually stumble upon this tape, or transcript or at least the interviewer? Is this what they found that was left out? That would truly be new and important.

    But that isn’t it. What is it then? None other than Dan Moldea (pp. 380-390).

    They actually say that material in Moldea’s 1978 book The Hoffa Wars should have been in the IG Report. I had to smile.

    Let me explain. After I read Moldea’s disgraceful book on the RFK case, I was shocked at its shoddiness (Probe Vol. 5 No. 4, p. 10, and The Assassinations pgs 610-631). I wondered how someone like this ever got started. So I went back and borrowed his first volume, the book on Hoffa. I took 30 pages of notes and came to the conclusion that it was almost as bad as his RFK book. (I never reviewed it since we decided to discontinue Probe.) Since Moldea is relying a lot on Walter Sheridan and other such sources, the portrait of Hoffa is aggrandized and sensationalized. The reason for this is twofold. Sheridan furnished Moldea with his prime witness against Hoffa, Ed Partin. Second, Moldea was writing right after the revelations of the Church Committee Report, which exposed in public the CIA-Mafia plots to kill Castro. Partin, Sheridan, and Moldea had a problem with those plots. Hoffa wasn’t in on them. So Sheridan let Moldea borrow Partin so he could further his mendacious magic act. And Waldron and Hartmann suck this all up — and expand it even further.

    But being indiscriminate with a writer like Moldea is like a boxer leaving his chin exposed in the ring. You’re looking for trouble. When Sheridan was heralding Partin as his star witness he had to do a lot of rehab work on him. Because writers like Fred Cook had shown that Partin had a criminal record that, to say the least, was rather compromising. So he decided to give Partin a lie detector test. Needless to say, since Sheridan arranged it, he passed with flying colors. But years later, something interesting happened to this test. A professional society of polygraph technicians got hold of the raw data from it. They were worried that less than scrupulous people were abusing legal ethics in using the machine. So a team of the country’s leading experts studied the results and unveiled their findings at a convention. They concluded that Partin was deceptive throughout, but he almost broke the machine at the part where he related Hoffa’s plot to murder RFK. Partin was so bad that the society deduced that the administrator of the test had to turn down the detection device to ensure the results Sheridan wanted. Ace archivist Peter Vea mailed me these documents over a decade ago and I discussed them at the 1995 COPA Conference in Washington. Vea later sent me a newspaper story about one of the original technicians being later convicted for fraud. So the information has been out there for about 12 years. Somehow, Waldron and Hartmann missed it. (And so did Moldea since he was still vouching for Partin in 1997 when his RFK book was published.)

    But as I said, Moldea’s book came out in 1978. Well after Hoffa was convicted and passed away so mysteriously. So the act Partin did for Sheridan was not enough for Moldea. Watergate and the Church Committee had occurred in the interim. So for Moldea, Partin added some current sex appeal to his already fatuous story. He now told Moldea that Carlos Marcello contributed a half million to Nixon’s campaign in 1968 (Moldea pp. 108, 260). The go-between was Hoffa. Hoffa was also supplying arms to Castro before he took over Cuba (Ibid. p. 107). Waldron and Hartmann use these tales and source them to Moldea– without telling the reader that the source is Partin! At one point they even refer to this proven liar as a most trusted source. In this day and age, with all we know about Partin, this is academic irresponsibility.

    But if Moldea is bad, what can one say about Frank Ragano? Ragano is mentioned many times by Moldea in his Hoffa book. Ragano was an attorney for Hoffa, Marcello and Trafficante. He did this for many years. And during this time, many of these Mafia did it books emerged. But it was not until Oliver Stone’s JFK came out that he decided to write about how his three clients conspired to kill President Kennedy. The other curious thing about the timing of Ragano’s 1993 book Mob Lawyer, is that he was in trouble with the IRS over back taxes and cried out that he was being persecuted: perhaps for his much delayed broadcast about his clients assassination conspiracy? Or maybe he was just using the delayed expose to plea bargain the charge down? Whatever the case, Ragano made two mistakes in his coming out party. First, he sold Moldea the old chestnut about Jim Garrison’s investigation of Clay Shaw being a method to divert attention away from Marcello. I exposed this for the canard it was at the 1994 COPA Conference, and Bill Davy expanded on it in his book, Let Justice Be Done (pgs 149-167). Evidently, Ragano had not done his homework on the issue. And that crack investigative reporter Moldea was not up to checking it out beforehand. (See Ragano’s biography at spartacus.schoolnet.) Second, Ragano tried to get cute and was a bit too specific about Trafficante’s convenient deathbed confession to him. He said it occurred on March 13, 1987 in Tampa. He says the ailing Don called him and asked him to come down and pick him up. When Ragano arrived to take him for a spin, the dying 72-year-old Mob boss trotted out to the car in pajamas and robe. He told Ragano that he and his underworld cohorts had erred. They should have killed Bobby, not John. His conscience cleansed by his confession to his consigliore, Trafficante passed away a few days later.

    Unfortunately for Ragano, Tony Summers checked up on his belatedly revealed tale. According to Summers, who sources several witnesses, Trafficante was living in Miami in March of 1987 and had not been to Tampa for months. He was very ill at the time and was receiving kidney dialysis and carrying a colostomy bag. Further, Summers interviewed at least two witnesses who placed Trafficante in Miami on that day. There are also hospital records that put him in Miami’s Mercy Hospital for dialysis treatment on both the day before and the day after the Ragano “confession”. And Trafficante’s doctor in Tampa said he was not there on March 13th. (Vanity Fair 12/94) Now, from Miami to Tampa is about 280 miles. To think that a 72 year old dying man would drive four hours one way and then four hours back — between dialysis treatments — to do something he could have done with a call on a pay phone strains credulity to the breaking point. To postulate that he would fly the distance is just as bad. Did he buy two seats in order to put his colostomy bag next to him? Ragano told Summers he could produce other witnesses. But only if he was sued for libel. Since it is next to impossible for a family to sue for a deceased member over libel, Ragano was being real gutsy.

    Another spurious author used extensively in this section is Davis, who they refer to as a “noted historian” (p.264) and later (p. 768) as an “acclaimed historian.” (The authors are quite liberal in their use of the term “historian”: Tony Summers, Peter Dale Scott, even Tad Szulc are all given the title. Yet none of them are historians.) Others, like Bill Davy and myself have questioned the methodology of this “noted historian”. As I once wrote of him, although Davis likes to use a large bibliography to lend weight and academic ballast to his work, he does not footnote his text. And as Davy and I have both pointed out, even the freight of his pretentious bibliography is spurious. In his two books on the JFK assassination, Mafia Kingfish and The Kennedy Contract, Davis listed two primary sources: the transcript of the Clay Shaw trial and 3, 000 pages of CIA documents. He said they were housed at Southeastern Louisiana University at Hammond. Davy checked and I called. They aren’t there. (Probe Vol. 5, No.1, p. 9) In that same issue, in discussing his Kennedy biography, Dynasty and Disaster, I showed how Davis distorted his sources to twist words and events into something they do not really mean. And sometimes into the opposite of what they mean. I then demonstrated how his lack of footnoting made this hard to detect for a novice.

    But Ultimate Sacrifice ignores all this. The book uses Davis, and even some of the claims that Davy actually addressed head on. For instance: the 7,000-dollar payoff, which Marcello supposedly admitted in his HSCA executive session testimony. The problem here is he actually didn’t admit it. (Ibid) Further, Davy and I interviewed U.S. Attorney Jon Volz who was in on the prosecution that put Marcello away. He and his cohorts listened to years of surveillance on Marcello, including the storied “Brilab tapes”. Volz told us, “There’s nothing on those tapes.” (Ibid). In fact, Volz told us that far from the fearsome, all-inspiring Mafia Don Davis makes him out to be, Marcello was kind of slow and dull. Further, Waldron and Hartmann use their “noted historian”, to make Marcello an all encompassing Mafia Superman, his Hitlerian reach extending throughout ten states, Central America, the Caribbean and beyond. (Ultimate Sacrifice p. 264). Funny, because Volz told us that, by the time he prosecuted him, Marcello was not even the number one godfather in Louisiana. Anthony Carolla was.

    But Waldron and Hartmann need to use Davis to exalt Marcello because they want us to believe, as Davis and Blakey do, that Marcello was reaching through to Oswald through Guy Banister and David Ferrie. Repeatedly, throughout the volume, Ferrie and Banister are referred to as “working for Marcello.”. In no other book I have ever encountered have I seen this rubric used with these two men anywhere to the extent it appears here. Further, Banister and Ferrie are pretty much cleaned off of their other well-documented ties to the CIA and the FBI. There is almost no mention of Ferrie’s ties to the Bay of Pigs, how he trained Cuban exiles for that operation, how he engineered aquatic equipment like a miniature submarine, how he watched films of the debacle with his friend Sergio Arcacha Smith. There is also no mention of Ferrie’s attempts to recruit young men for MONGOOSE. And it’s almost the same for Banister. Again, this was an eccentric trend that was started with Blakey and Billings at the end of the HSCA. Ferrie had worked for Wray Gill, one of Marcello’s local attorneys. So Blakey shorthanded this into Ferrie working for Marcello. In 1962 and 1963, Ferrie got Banister some investigatory work through his Gill employment. But not even the HSCA and Blakey construed this as Banister being an employee of Marcello. Waldron and Hartmann do this throughout. Again, this is deceptive and journalistically irresponsible. But, as I will show later, its part of a grand design.

    But it’s not just Marcello who gets the Superman treatment. Apparently modeling themselves on Davis, they attempt to enlarge John Roselli beyond any dimensions I have ever read. Roselli was seen previously as a second tier Mafia figure, right below the top Godfathers who sat on the national council. And his affable demeanor, brains, and facility in conversation made him a good ambassador and envoy for the Cosa Nostra to gain entry into things like the film business and the CIA-Mafia plots. This book goes way beyond that to places I had never seen or imagined. Did you know that Roselli was somehow in on the murder of Castillo Armas in Guatemala in 1957? How about the assassination of Trujillo in the Dominican Republic in 1961? If you can believe it, the dapper, satin shirted, silk tied Roselli was in training with the Cuban exiles at JM/WAVE. He even makes an appearance at Banister’s office at 544 Camp Street. Roselli is somehow involved with Marilyn Monroe in a mÈnage a trois with Frank Sinatra and Sam Giancana before she tries to warn the FBI about a Mob hit on RFK. (This whole episode with Monroe has to be read to be believed. Its on pages 405-409.) And with Waldron and Hartmann, its Roselli who introduced Judith Exner to Senator Kennedy, since Roselli is trying to play it safe in the 1960 election (p. 390). And as the Mob plot heats up, he maneuvers her around to somehow monitor JFK.

    Except it’s not true. Unfortunately, I read Exner’s book My Story (see The Assassinations pp. 329-338 for my essay on Exner). In that book, Exner describes her first meeting with Senator Kenendy. She met him through a dinner hosted by Peter Lawford and Frank Sinatra (see pp. 86-89). In that book, contrary to what Ultimate Sacrifice clearly implies, there is not a hint that John Roselli had anything to do with her relations with JFK. In their further aggrandizement of Roselli, they attempt to place him in Dallas on 11/22/63 but they qualify this by saying that none of the sources meet their standard of reliability. (p. 712) But they state the accusation anyway by noting the multiplicity of accounts. Also, according to them, Roselli had no alibi for that day. When I looked up their multiplicity of sources, I smiled and shook my head. The three were James Files, Robert Plumlee, and Chauncey Holt. Gary Aguilar wrote a searing expose on the whole Files affair, which resulted in a rather embarrassing video on the JFK case. (Probe Vol. 3 No. 6 p. 27) Plumlee has been marketing his story for years about flying various people in and out of Dallas before and after the assassination. He figured in one of the early cuts of that video which the producer tried to sell to investors. The late Chauncey Holt was trying to sell himself as one of the three tramps for a number of years. The fact that the authors include these men is critical comment in and of itself.

    III

    But even using all these dubious books and authors, with their questionable sources and bibliographies, Waldron and Hartmann still suffer greatly from the “conditional syndrome”. That is, something can happen only if something else occurs i.e. the contingency or assumption factor. To give the reader a representative sample:

    • If Roselli had told David Morales that Ruby would be helpful in the fall 1963 CIA-Mafia plot, Morales would have had no reason to doubt him. (565)
    • It is possible that the call was related to Oswald…or a trip Ruby would soon make to Chicago… (566)
    • And even on November 1, Ferrie might have flown to Chicago instead of back to New Orleans, if the Chicago assassination plan had not been uncovered …(577)
    • Phillips was saying that about Oswald in the context of an autobiographical novel, but it could indicate that the CIA’s “plan we had devised against Castro” was similar to the way JFK was killed. (p. 580)
    • The sad thing is that the Mafia may have taken the very plan that the CIA had intended to use against Castro…and used it instead to kill JFK in an open limousine. That could account for the comments of Bobby and David Atlee Phillips after JFK’s death. (P. 581)

    And my favorite:

    • Morales probably engaged in business with Trafficante associate John Martino in the years after JFK’s death. On the other hand, Morales may have simply provided help and information to Roselli during his nighttime drinking binges. (p. 584, italics are mine in all excerpts)

    I am reminded of Cyril Wecht’s response to one of Michael Baden’s inventive rationales for the single bullet theory: “Yeah, and if my mother had a penis she’d be my father.” The book is literally strewn with these kinds of “would have” “could have” “might have” scenarios. In the sample above, I culled from a span of 20 pages and I cited six passages, leaving at least one other one out. Go ahead and do the math for a text of 786 pages. There must be well into the hundreds of these Rumsfeldian “unkown unknowns” populating this book– like autumn leaves in a Pennsylvania backyard. When I wrote my introduction to Bill Davy’s fine work, Let Justice Be Done, I noted that one of its qualities is the author used very few of these types of clauses. He didn’t have to. I also noted that the Mafia theory advocates were noted for these kinds of contingency phrases. Since Ultimate Sacrifice is essentially the “Mega Mob Did It” opus, it amplifies the usage of them exponentially. Which leaves one to ask: If you need so many of these clauses then what is the real value of the book and its research?

    Hand in glove with the above feature is the “he had dinner with him” syndrome. Peter Dale Scott’s works were rich in this kind of thing and then Robert Blakey brought it to new heights in the field. Waldron and Hartmann continue in this tradition.

    • Back in Dallas on Thursday evening November 20, Ruby had dinner with … Ralph Paul. Paul was associated with Austin’s Bar-B-Cue, where one of the part-time security guards was policeman J. D. Tippit. (p. 713)
    • The Teamster organizer was an associate of Frank Chavez, linked to Jack Ruby by FBI reports. (p. 740)
    • Ruby called the home of friend Gordon McLendon, owner of KLIF radio, who was close to David Atlee Phillips and had a connection to Marcello. (747)

    If you use the sources the authors use, and a lot of conditional phrasing, and you make the connections as oblique and inconsequential as a Bar-B-Cue pit, then you can just about connect almost anything and anyone. Sort of like the Six Degrees of Separation concept. You can even come close to duplicating that masterpiece of disinformation, Nomenclature of an Assassination Cabal, aka The Torbitt Document (which is not a document and is therefore even deceptive in its nickname.) The point is that now, with the work of the ARRB, we don’t need to do this anymore. Waldron and Hartmann want to take us back to the Torbitt days.

    In this middle section of the book, which allegedly describes the plotting of the assassination, appear some of the most bizarre statements and chapters I have encountered in the JFK library of books. Which is saying a lot. After reading chapters 29-31, I actually wrote in my notes, “The preceding three chapters are three of the most ridiculous I have ever read in the literature.”

    But that is par for the course in this book. Did you know that:

    1. Guy Banister joined the plot because he was a segregationist. (pp. 457-458)
    2. John Roselli personally met RFK in Miami prior to the Missile Crisis. (This is on pp 408-409 and comes via Moldea and the incontinent Gerry Hemming.)
    3. The USA continued to support the corrupt and brutal Somoza dictatorship in Nicaragua because the Somozas knew too much about C-Day. ( p.158)
    4. Banister encountered Oswald in New Orleans in the first quarter of 1963 and relayed the information that he would be a perfect patsy for JFK to Marcello. (p. 456)
    5. Hoffa attempted to actually strangle RFK to death with his bare hands in a Justice Department office. (p. 430)
    6. Marilyn Monroe committed suicide because the Mob was pressuring her to blackmail RFK. (p. 407)
    7. In 1963 Oswald was about to announce to the nation his undercover role in an effort to achieve dÈtente between the Soviet Union and America. (p. 458, 463)
    8. Senator Thomas Dodd was above reproach. (p. 462.)
    9. It was Banister who got Oswald to take a shot at Edwin Walker in an attempt to get publicity for a white supremacist ally. (p. 467)
    10. The Mafia arranged for Antonio Veciana to meet with Oswald and Phillips in 1963. (p. 485)

    These are all strained at best. And some — like the Nicaragua charge — are jocular. Some fly in the face of direct evidence. (For the case against Dodd for instance, see Probe Vol. 3 No. 5, Vol. 3 No. 6, and Vol. 6 No.2, plus Bob Tanenbaum’s novel Corruption of Blood for his own suspicions of the man.) In the face of all this the idea that Dodd is “beyond reproach” is goofy.

    IV

    Part Three of Ultimate Sacrifice deals with the attempts on President Kennedy’s life in Chicago and Tampa, the assassination in Dallas, the ensuing cover-ups of the assassination and C-Day, and the effects of all this for the country. Waldron and Hartmann lend great import to Chicago and Tampa and depict them both as being Mob-oriented, and later of being covered up because of some revelations about C-Day. The evidence about the latter is pretty much diaphanous. But some of the circumstances surrounding the Chicago attempt are interesting. And what the authors do with them is even more so.

    The authors declare that their treatment of the Chicago attempt is the most extensive yet. Whether it is or isn’t, it is almost indecipherable. Through their usual tortuous logic and maneuvering, they somehow get Michael Mertz on the scene (with the help of the always useful Gerry Hemming.) They attempt to link the man who was being set up, Thomas A. Vallee, to John Martino, simply because Valle had once been a member of the John Birch Society and Martino was part of their Speaker’s Bureau. (p. 630) They conclude that Trafficante, Roselli and Marcello were behind the whole thing and Richard Cain was in on the cover up. The book cites former Secret Service agent Abraham Bolden who says that two of the suspected four man hit team were named Rodriguez and Gonzalez. They then surmise that those Hispanic names are important because those were two names of members in the Tampa branch of the FPCC. Which, in a spellbinding leap of logic, they connect to the Chicago attempt. (p. 625)

    One of the major sources that Ultimate Sacrifice uses for the two chapters on Chicago is a writer named Edwin Black. Today, Edwin Black is an illustrious author of several famous books like War on the Weak, which is about how famous philanthropies sponsored eugenics experiments in America, and The Transfer Agreement, which is about the founding of the Israeli state. .

    Unlike Ultimate Sacrifice, if you read Black, you get the idea that the Secret Service actually did a fair job once they were tipped off. Even though understaffed, they got help from the local police and did a quick job in apprehending Vallee and rolling up part of the cell. All of this was done before JFK’s scheduled arrival (which was eventually cancelled). Another difference is that although Bolden is a major source for Black, there is no mention of the two surnames, Gonzalez and Rodriguez. And then there are the important things Black discovered which Ultimate Sacrifice leaves out. Consider:

    1. Like Oswald, Vallee was a former Marine who was stationed at a U-2 base in Japan. (Black, p. 5)
    2. Like Oswald, the cover unit for Vallee’s probable CIA recruitment was something called Joint Technical Advisory Group.(ibid)
    3. Vallee had spoken bitterly of JFK, “We lost a lot of good men at the Bay of Pigs. (Ibid. p. 6)
    4. One of the men who arrested him, Dan Groth, was suspected of being a CIA undercover agent. And Groth inexplicably left off his arrest report the fact that Vallee had 750 rounds of live ammo in the trunk of his car. Further he said his notation of “M-1 rifle” on the report was a typo. This was one reason why Vallee could not be detained, since the charge for pulling him over — which was nothing but a pretext–was a minor traffic infraction. (Ibid p. 31)

    But the most startling thing Ultimate Sacrifice leaves out is the codename of the original FBI informant who tipped off the Secret Service. It was “Lee”. (Black, p. 5)

    Instead of all the Sturm und Drang Ultimate Sacrifice presents, if one reads Black one could conclude that Oswald was doing in Chicago what he did in New Orleans. As revealed later by FBI worker William Walter, although Oswald was serving as a CIA agent provocateur, he was also a likely informant for the FBI. And in the milieu he worked — the CIA and rightwing sponsored Cuban exile community — he tipped off the Bureau as to a plot he heard concerning the murder of JFK in Dallas. According to Black, he may have done it in Chicago also. One could also conclude that Groth screwed up his arrest report so that Vallee could not be thoroughly interrogated. And finally, Black adds that while he was pursuing his inquiry into the Chicago attempt, he was followed and investigated not by the Mafia, but by the DIA. (Black, p. 3)

    Until I read this book I did not know Black had written about the Kennedy assassination. Jim Douglass, who contributed to The Assassinations, pointed something out to me. Although Ultimate Sacrifice uses Edwin Black, you could never locate his original work from it. For if you try and match up the mentions of his name and use of his material in the text to the footnotes, you will discover something puzzling. Namely, you can’t. The authors footnote Edwin Black’s work to a man named George Black and to George Black’s book entitled The Good Neighbor. When you find The Good Neighbor, you will see that there is nothing in it about President Kennedy’s assassination. The book is about US foreign policy in Central America. Douglass, who is writing his own book on the JFK case, sent me Edwin Black’s actual essay on Chicago. That long essay was the cover story of a periodical titled Chicago Independent dated November 1975, which was edited by Black and his wife. You won’t find this essay in the footnotes in the two chapters about Chicago in Ultimate Sacrifice. To dismiss this mismatching as all a mistake one must believe the following:

    1. Waldron and Hartmann confused two completely different authors
    2. They confused two completely different subjects
    3. They mistook a book for a magazine article.

    One other aspect of this scholarly failure puzzles me. Waldron and Hartmann have about eleven footnotes to George Black’s book. Not one of them cites a page number. Probably because they can’t. Try and find another book they use for multiple but blind citations. The reason I find this all so bracing is that when I read Edwin Black’s essay I was struck by how clear it was compared to Ultimate Sacrifice, how different the interpretation of events was, and — as I have shown here — the crucial things what Waldron and Hartmann leave out. Ninety nine percent–or more–of the book’s readership can’t really conclude this or see the difference in the two treatments. When one does see the difference one has to at least postulate that the authors of Ultimate Sacrifice didn’t want you to find Edwin Black’s essay. Why?

    The work on the alleged Mob oriented Tampa plot directly follows the two chapters on Chicago. It begins with the rather hoary Joseph Milteer-William Somersett taped conversation. Somersett was an FBI informant who recorded his calls with Milteer. Milteer was a moderately well off southern racist who was associated with the extremist anti-civil rights group the National States Rights Party (NSRP). Somersett shared his beliefs but was against the use of violence to achieve them. On the tape, Milteer talks about a possible scenario for killing Kennedy with a high-powered rifle from a tall building.

    To say the least, it is problematic to use Milteer for the Tampa scenario since according to many sources (Henry Hurt, Michael Benson, Anthony Summers), if Milteer is talking about any location on the tape, it is Miami not Tampa. Further, Milteer had no detectable ties to the Mafia. But that doesn’t daunt our authors. They again use their Six Degrees of Separation technique. See, Milteer’s group had ties to associates of Guy Banister. And remember, Banister was doing work for Marcello. So that takes care of that. After utilizing this technique, the authors then shift into another one of their hundreds of “conditional syndrome” phraseologies:

    • Banister likely would have used Milteer in a supporting role for the JFK plot…Milteer himself would have made a logical person to take some of the blame if needed, given his far right credentials and public anti-Kennedy stance. (p. 662)

    They go on to write that Milteer could have even been used as a linkage to Vallee in Chicago. (Ibid.) Six Degrees is one handy tool to have at hand.

    The main Mafioso they link to Tampa is, of course, Trafficante. They use former Tampa police Chief J. P. Mullins, who has since died, as a source. Apparently, they never talked to Florida Department of Law Enforcement special agent Ken Sanz who is alive and an authority on Trafficante. He told the St. Petersburg Times (11/23/05) that he never heard of Trafficante’s involvement in the affair. Even though he has done years of research on Trafficante and is serving as a consultant to a book on the man.

    Between the two attempts on JFK, the authors interpolate a chapter on President Kennedy’s speech in Miami on November 18th. They say that part of the address was supposed to be aimed at the C-Day leader as a note of encouragement that the operation was ongoing. Oddly, they do not quote or paraphrase here that part of the speech under discussion. Basically, Kennedy said that Castro and his crowd had made Cuba into a victim of foreign imperialism, meaning the Russians. And that they together were now trying to expand revolution into South America. He then added:

    This, and this alone, divides us. As long as this is true, nothing is possible, without it, everything is possible. Once this barrier is removed, we will be ready…to work with the Cuban people in pursuit of the progressive goals which a few short years ago stirred the…sympathy of many people throughout the hemisphere.

    Now, some of the Kennedy people who worked on the speech were Arthur Schlesinger and Dick Goodwin. The authors quote Schlesinger as saying that only Kennedy’s staff had input into the speech. But then, Waldron and Hartmann bring a contradicting author on stage. It is Seymour Hersh and his hatchet job of a book The Dark Side of Camelot. They use this book to say that the CIA and Desmond Fitzgerald had a hand in the paragraph above. They footnote Hersh on this, but they give no page number for the reference. When you find the material in Hersh’s book, you will see that he is not even talking about the same speech. (Hersh, p. 440) He is writing about an address President Kennedy gave in Palm Beach ten days earlier. Hersh’s source is a former investigator for the Church Committee who is quoting a former CIA liaison to the committee. Further, the original source, Seymour Bolton, died in 1985 (Hersh’s book is full of second hand sources quoting deceased acquaintances.) If one studies the work of CIA liaisons with congressional inquiries one understands their purpose is to do one thing: protect the CIA at all costs. In this instance Bolton was trying to sell the Church Committee on the idea that the paragraph was inserted by CIA officer Desmond Fitzgerald as a message to Rolando Cubela, a CIA asset in Cuba who the Agency had enlisted to kill Castro. Cubela was not the coup leader. So Ultimate Sacrifice shifts both the speech and the alleged target of the message. So how do they show in this chapter that the speech was a message to the coup leader? Or maybe they were thinking no one would notice these things?

    But it’s actually worse than that. If one looks at the passage, does it not sound as if Kennedy is saying that he just wants Castro and Che Guevara to abstain from exporting Marxist revolution into South America? And if this would stop, the USA and Cuba could then establish a dÈtente? And that jibes with what Kennedy was trying to do through his triple back channel of Lisa Howard, William Attwood, and Jean Daniel. (Which, interestingly enough, the authors try to discount in this very chapter on page 670. Probably to make their unsupported scenario more palatable.) If we look at the passage in that way, then Kennedy’s special envoy Attwood can shed some valuable light on the Miami address:

    • It was intended to help me by signaling to Castro that normalization was possible if Cuba simply stopped doing the Kremlin’s work in Latin America (such as trying to sabotage — vainly as it turned out — the upcoming Venezuelan elections). (Attwood, The Twilight Struggle, p. 262)

    This concept of the speech, that it was an olive branch extended to Castro and not a war overture to Cubela–or whomever Waldron and Hartmann are referring to–is echoed in an article by Daniel published shortly after the assassination entitled “Unofficial Envoy” (The New Republic 12/14/63 ). And his information was from the most primary source of all: JFK himself.

    Now, if we are not blinded by the likes of Sy Hersh and Seymour Bolton, we should note Attwood’s mention of the upcoming Venezuelan elections. We should also note the date of the Miami speech, and also the date of the Richard Helms anecdote about the Venezuela arms cache that I mentioned earlier. The speech was on November 18th. Helms went to see Robert Kennedy and the president the next day with his phony story about the arms caches sent by Castro to Venezuela, a country that Attwood says JFK was worried about Cuba interfering in. Doesn’t it seem more likely that Helms and Fitzgerald were trying to force Kennedy into backing up the very words he had delivered the night before? Helms is figuratively telling JFK: “This is what you warned Castro about last night Mr. President. And look, today we discover he is doing just what you warned him not to do. What are you going to do about it? We have to do something. ” Far from sharing this C-Day agenda about Cuba, it would seem to me that the CIA was trying to get inside this overture for dÈtente, in order to take advantage of it and snuff it out just as it got rolling.

    V

    And this is a real problem with the book, its handling of the CIA. I never thought I would see a book about the JFK case that would vouch for the honesty of Richard Helms. But this one tries to ( pp. 44-45). About the only guy with less credibility than Helms on the assassination would be David Phillips. But Ultimate Sacrifice tries to rehabilitate Phillips’ words and writings on the JFK case (p. 562). And they even go beyond that. It tries to say that the things he did, he didn’t really do. Why? Because he did them without knowing he was being manipulated by the likes of Banister and the Mob. I’m not kidding:

    • By having Oswald use the FPCC and build a very public (and well-documented) pro-Castro cover … Phillips played right into the hands of Banister and others planning JFK’s assassination … (p. 473)

    By no means is this the only place they serve as defense attorneys for Phillips. They do it at least four other times (pp. 241, 509, 531, 532). Poor Dave, flying from JM/WAVE, to Mexico City, to Langley. He was so busy he didn’t realize that his street operative Banister was setting him up the whole time. What a fool.

    When David Talbot reviewed the book (all too kindly) in Salon, he pointed out this clear aspect of the work: the authors’ defense tract for the Agency. Waldron and Hartmann wrote Talbot to defend themselves:

    • … our book exposes Mafia-compromised CIA assets, extensive CIA intelligence failures, unauthorized operations, and the stonewalling of Robert Kennedy and government committees by certain CIA officials — all under the veil of secrecy covering AM/WORLD.

    In other words, they issued a non-denial denial. I like that: e.g. Clay Shaw and Ferrie manipulating Oswald in Clinton-Jackson was one of many “CIA intelligence failures”. I like even better the phrase “Mafia-compromised CIA assets”. See, Ferrie and Banister were working with Marcello, not the CIA. And this device is probably the reason that the book barely mentions Shaw, and amazingly, does not mention at all Ruth and Michael Paine. It would have been tough, even for these inventive authors, to make them into “Mafia-compromised” figures in the landscape.

    But the problem with the non-denial denial is that the authors cannot deny their book. To list every instance where they try to immunize the CIA would literally take pages. But how’s this for starters:

    • Later chapters show how some of those CIA assets were unknowingly manipulated by the Mafia in their plot to assassinate JFK. (p. 51)
    • More than anything, the CIA’s decades-long organizational cover up was designed to hide intelligence failures and protect reputations…(p.59)
    • Just because certain names have been linked to C-Day…It does not mean that any particular CIA officials were knowingly involved in JFK’s assassination. (p. 62)
    • Phillips and the CIA had their own agenda for Oswald, an agenda that had nothing to do with JFK’s assassination. (p. 173)
    • Harry Williams told us which one of the C-Day participants he felt was knowingly involved in JFK’s assassination (and it was not someone like E. Howard Hunt or James McCord)…(p. 187)
    • The Dallas meeting between Oswald and David Atlee Phillips probably eliminates Phillips from knowingly being involved in JFK’s assassination…(p. 531)

    And on and on and on. There must be at least 20 such passages in the book. But the one that takes the cake is this:

    • Two months later, when Ms. Odio saw Oswald on TV after JFK’s assassination, she fainted … That was exactly what the Mafia wanted … (p. 164)

    When I read that, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Or do both and go bipolar. To her everlasting credit, when Sylvia Meagher examined the Odio incident four decades ago, she postulated that it showed a conspiracy between the Cuban exiles, the CIA, and elements of the reactionary right (Accessories After the Fact pgs 384-86). But according to Ultimate Sacrifice, the poor deluded lady was wrong. And we are all lost sheep. Why? Because we either didn’t know or ignored the incredibly powerful fact that Rolando Masferer’s brother lived in Odio’s complex. And Masferer — you guessed it — knew a couple of mobsters. What do the authors leave out? That many Cuban exiles lived in that complex, and that you could have picked out others who had relations to every group that was funding anti-Castro operations.

    What I have described with the Odio incident is absolutely systematic throughout the book. Especially in a section called “Three Oswald Riddles”. For instance, the authors write that Oswald did actually order the rifle, but probably at the behest of someone working for the Mafia (p. 460). And somehow Richard Cain would get the info into the media after the fact. (p. 465) The problem with that wild and irresponsibly speculative scenario is that today, due to people like Raymond Gallagher, (Probe Vol. 5 No. 6, p. 10) and especially John Armstrong, we can show that it is highly doubtful that Oswald ever ordered that rifle. In a tour de force performance in his book Harvey and Lee, Armstrong demonstrates, almost beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Oswald could not have ordered the rifle. (pgs 438-487) And he shows that-guess what-the people who manufactured the phony evidence afterwards weren’t mobsters.

    This consistent pattern of distorting, smudging, and obfuscating good evidence in favor of amorphous, and sometimes non-existent, Mafia “connections” has one of its highlights in Mexico City. Ignoring all the questions about entrance and exit into the country (see for example my first book Destiny Betrayed p. 264) Ultimate Sacrifice maintains that Oswald really did go to Mexico and onward to Mexico City. (p. 540) Ignoring the problems with the sign-in sheet at the hotel (DiEugenio op. cit. ), they further believe that Oswald stayed in Mexico City. And further, they say it was him at both the Cuban and Soviet consulates. Now to go into all the disputes about what the witnesses who saw him say the person who was there looked like would take several pages (for a decent summary see Tony Summers, Conspiracy pgs 343-352). But the capper for me is that they say he was there actually trying to get to Cuba! (In aid of C-Day of course.) Now many authors have noted the scene he created, what a nuisance he was, how truculent he was in attitude. How him raising his voice caused others to look around and even come out of their cubicles. How he didn’t even seem to know the right protocol to get a visa. How his calls to the Soviet Embassy arrived on the wrong day or during times when the staff was not there. Even Castro commented later that anyone trying to get to Cuba does not do what Oswald did. Again, Waldron and Hartmann either ignore all this or try to explain it away. And the only way to explain this obtuse balderdash in Ultimate Sacrifice is in light of the authors’ previous comments about Phillips. They are trying to get him (and his assistant Ann Goodpasture) off the hook about their manipulation of an Oswald imposter in Mexico City. Further, they wish to disguise how the CIA used the incident to 1.) frame Oswald, and 2.) force President Johnson into a cover up after the fact.

    Although I had hints about what Ultimate Sacrifice was up to before this, when I read this section the proverbial light went on in my head. And the light spelled out the name of Robert Blakey. Let me explain the clear parallel. As writers like Gaeton Fonzi and myself have pointed out, Blakey had a problem at the end of the HSCA inquiry. His committee had turned up a lot of evidence showing that the CIA was involved in the conspiracy, and also that the military had covered up that fact with the autopsy. How did Blakey solve that problem? He dismissed most of the investigators and kept a small coterie of trusted associates to write the Final Report and edit the published volumes. In that report, and in the volumes, he did all he could to minimize any CIA involvement and to disguise the true facts of the autopsy. He then stowed away a massive amount of raw evidence, much more than the Warren Commission did.

    This worked for awhile. It fell apart when the Assassination Records Review Board began to declassify much of the hidden record. People like Gary Aguilar and David Mantik began to expose how Blakey had hidden what really happened in Bethesda. John Newman and Bill Davy began to delve into the new revelations about Mexico City and New Orleans. I wrote an article with these new documents to indicate what Blakey had done. (See The Assassinations pp. 51-89) In other words, the cat was out of the bag.

    What Ultimate Sacrifice tries to do is put the cat back in the bag. It tries to repeat what Blakey did. It says: All this striking, powerful new evidence the ARRB released is not what you think. You say the military deliberately disguised the autopsy and may have forged the x-rays? You’re wrong. Bobby Kennedy controlled the autopsy. You think the Lopez Report on Mexico City says an Oswald imposter was there under the control of David Phillips? Wrong again, its C-Day and Richard Cain. You read Fonzi’s The Last Investigation and think the Odio incident is a more powerful indicator now of CIA and CIA affiliated Cuban exile involvement? Wrong once more, you fool. That’s just what Roselli and the Mafia wanted you to think.

    But if we are all fools, that leaves the question Talbot asked: Why would the Mafia kill JFK if they knew he was going into Cuba in a few days? Did they not want back into the island to get their hotels and casinos back? The authors answered this in their letter to him by saying, “…the Kennedys tried to exclude the Mafia from any involvement in the coup plan, and any involvement in Cuba after the coup.” Like almost every aspect of the book, this is preposterous. Concerning the first contention, that the Kennedys excluded the Mob from the plan: Really? You mean RFK didn’t call up Giancana and say, “Hey Sam, we’re going into Cuba on December 1st. Meet me then in Havana at the Tropicana and I’ll sell you your hotels back.” About the latter part, keeping them out of the liberated Cuba: How would it be possible to ensure that the Mafia would be kept off the island? Did the Kennedys plan on occupying every square mile of the place with a 150,000 man army and protecting the long shoreline with a naval armada indefinitely? Would they do background checks on every Cuban on the island and every one coming in to see they had no ties to the Mafia? (This in the days before computers.) Even though two of the alleged coup leaders, Varona and Artime, already had ties to the Mob? But this is the kind of thing one has to swallow to accept this abomination of a book.

    One of the most puzzling things about Ultimate Sacrifice is that some have actually taken it seriously. Peter Scott has said it is well documented. My question to Peter: Well-documented with what? Frank Ragano and Ed Partin? If you don’t analyze the footnotes you might be impressed. Unfortunately for my mental health, I did so I’m not impressed. Vince Palamara has gone on Amazon.com to praise the book as one of the best ever written on the case. Vince is supposed to be an authority on the Secret Service. Did he not notice what the authors did with Edwin Black’s seminal essay on Chicago? That people like this, and others, could be bamboozled by a dreadful and pretentious pastiche shows how rudderless the research community has become.

    When Gus Russo introduced Lamar Waldron in Dallas many years ago, he clearly meant him to be the fair-haired Luke Skywalker, rescuing the Jedi research community from the hordes of the Galactic Empire. What many didn’t recall, then or later, was that Luke Skywalker’s father turned out to be Darth Vader.