February 27, 2004
View from Lodi, CA: McNamara’s Eleven Lessons—But No
Apology
By Joe Guzzardi
The most important among the
Oscar-nominated films at the 2004 Academy Award ceremony
may be
“The Fog of War: Eleven Lessons of Robert S. McNamara.”
The documentary evolves from
interviews taped two years ago with the former
Secretary of Defense. McNamara, now 87, is often
named with former
President Lyndon Johnson as a major villain in the
escalation of the
Southeast Asian war during the 1960s.
During the Vietnam War—roughly 1961
to 1975— more than 58,000 Americans and 3.4 million
Vietnamese were killed.
“Fog of War”
opens with a lengthy look at McNamara’s career. We learn
that during World War II, McNamara was an Air Force
Colonel under the notorious hawk Gen.
Curtis LeMay.
Along with
LeMay, McNamara supported the decision to
firebomb 67 Japanese cities that on one March 1945
night in Tokyo killed 100,000 civilians. Many more were
killed in subsequent raids and during the atomic bomb
attacks on
Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
From his
World War II experiences, McNamara claims he learned one
of his 11 lessons:
“proportionality should be a guideline in war.”
But did he really learn anything?
“Fog of War”
director Errol Morris got the idea for his project after
he read McNamara’s 1995 bestseller
“In Retrospect.”
Morris
asked McNamara the question that everyone who lived
through the
Vietnam era has asked tens of thousands of times:
“To what extent did you feel you were the author of
policy? Or to what extent were your policies the product
of historical forces outside of your control?"
McNamara
dodges the question by stating that his job was to serve
President Johnson who
refused to withdraw American troops from Southeast
Asia.
But by 1968
McNamara apparently understood Vietnam’s tragedy. He
sent a private memo to Johnson urging withdrawal from
Southeast Asia. Johnson’s response to McNamara was to
fire him, appoint him President of the World Bank
and—ironically—give him the
Medal of Freedom.
Disappointingly, McNamara remained uncritical of Johnson
and his Vietnam policy. But McNamara should have spoken
up. In the five years between his recommendations to end
the Vietnam conflict until the US evacuated Saigon, an
additional 35,000 American troops and 1.4 million
Vietnamese were killed.
To this day,
McNamara refuses to admit that he could have helped
avert additional loss of life. Says McNamara evasively,
“The
fog of war means it is extremely difficult in
military operations to be certain of what the effects of
the actions you take will be. It means that national
leaders should be much more cautious in the way they
draw their conclusions.”
In early
February, McNamara returned to the University of
California at Berkeley for the first time since he
graduated in 1938. Along with Morris and journalism
professor Mark Danner, McNamara spoke about Vietnam
before an audience that included some of his
old foes like Daniel Ellsberg.
Despite
suggestions in McNamara’s comments that he opposes how
the Bush administration handled the Iraq invasion, he
refused to come straight out and say so. “My thoughts
are not targeted on Bush or the Republicans. My thoughts
are targeted on the actions,” said McNamara.
But,
sounding a cautionary note to President George Bush and
Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, McNamara
reiterates another of his eleven lessons: ''Believing
and seeing are both often wrong.''
For those of
us who lived on both sides of “guns and butter,”
McNamara’s legacy isn’t eleven lessons. When I think of
McNamara I remember “body counts,” “kill ratios,”
“the domino theory,” “body bags,” “Vietnamization,”
and “light at the end of the tunnel.”
I also
remember a 1966 interview that the
New York Times’ Harrison Salisbury conducted
with
North Vietnamese Prime Minister Pham Von Dong.
Asked Von
Dong: “How long do you Americans want to fight, Mr.
Salisbury? One year? Three years? Five years? Ten years?
Twenty years? We will be happy to accommodate you.”
Finally, I
recall reading how, in the
words of North Vietnamese General Vo Nguyen Giap,
his army would prevail:
“The
enemy will pass slowly from the offensive to the
defensive. The blitzkrieg will transform itself into a
war of long duration. The enemy has to drag the war out
to win but does not, on the other hand possess the
psychological and political means to fight a long,
drawn-out war…”
Lyndon
Johnson recognized the futility of Vietnam even before
the big war build-up began. In two
taped White House 1964 telephone conversations,
Johnson said Vietnam was the
"the biggest damn mess I ever saw. I don't think it's
worth fighting for, and I don't think we can get out."
Lyndon
Johnson is long dead. McNamara is 87 years old.
A sincere
apology from McNamara—a baring of his soul— would be a
catharsis for McNamara as the end of his life draws
near.
Joe Guzzardi [email
him], an instructor in English
at the Lodi Adult School, has been writing a weekly
column since 1988. It currently appears in the
Lodi News-Sentinel.