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Embers of War: The Fall of an Empire and the Making of America's Vietnam Kindle Edition
ONE OF THE MOST ACCLAIMED WORKS OF HISTORY IN RECENT YEARS
Winner of the Francis Parkman Prize from the Society of American Historians • Winner of the American Library in Paris Book Award • Winner of the Council on Foreign Relations Arthur Ross Book Award • Finalist for the Cundill Prize in Historical Literature
NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY
The Washington Post • The Christian Science Monitor • The Globe and Mail
Written with the style of a great novelist and the intrigue of a Cold War thriller, Embers of War is a landmark work that will forever change your understanding of how and why America went to war in Vietnam. Tapping newly accessible diplomatic archives in several nations, Fredrik Logevall traces the path that led two Western nations to tragically lose their way in the jungles of Southeast Asia. He brings to life the bloodiest battles of France’s final years in Indochina—and shows how, from an early point, a succession of American leaders made disastrous policy choices that put America on its own collision course with history. An epic story of wasted opportunities and deadly miscalculations, Embers of War delves deep into the historical record to provide hard answers to the unanswered questions surrounding the demise of one Western power in Vietnam and the arrival of another. Eye-opening and compulsively readable, Embers of War is a gripping, heralded work that illuminates the hidden history of the French and American experiences in Vietnam.
Praise for Embers of War
“A balanced, deeply researched history of how, as French colonial rule faltered, a succession of American leaders moved step by step down a road toward full-blown war.”—Pulitzer Prize citation
“This extraordinary work of modern history combines powerful narrative thrust, deep scholarly authority, and quiet interpretive confidence.”—Francis Parkman Prize citation
“A monumental history . . . a widely researched and eloquently written account of how the U.S. came to be involved in Vietnam . . . certainly the most comprehensive review of this period to date.”—The Wall Street Journal
“Superb . . . a product of formidable international research.”—The Washington Post
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherRandom House
- Publication dateAugust 21, 2012
- File size14200 KB
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“A balanced, deeply researched history of how, as French colonial rule faltered, a succession of American leaders moved step by step down a road toward full-blown war.”—Pulitzer Prize citation
“Fredrik Logevall’s excellent book Choosing War (1999) chronicled the American escalation of the Vietnam War in the early 1960s. With Embers of War, he has written an even more impressive book about the French conflict in Vietnam and the beginning of the American one. . . . It is the most comprehensive history of that time. Logevall, a professor of history at Cornell University, has drawn from many years of previous scholarship as well as his own. And he has produced a powerful portrait of the terrible and futile French war from which Americans learned little as they moved toward their own engagement in Vietnam.”—Alan Brinkley, The New York Times Book Review *Editor's Choice*
“Superb . . . penetrating . . . Embers of War is a product of formidable international research. It is lucidly and comprehensively composed. And it leverages a consistently potent analytical perspective. . . . Outstanding.”—Gordon Goldstein, The Washington Post
“A monumental history . . . a widely researched and eloquently written account of how the U.S. came to be involved in Vietnam . . . certainly the most comprehensive review of this period to date.”—Wall Street Journal
“The most comprehensive account available of the French Vietnamese war, America’s involvement, and the beginning of the US-directed struggle. . . . [Embers of War tells] the deeply immoral story of the Vietnam wars convincingly and more fully than any others. Since many of the others, some written over fifty years ago, are excellent, this is a considerable achievement.”—Jonathan Mirsky, New York Review of Books
“Magisterial.”—Foreign Affairs
“The definitive history of the critical formative period from 1940 to 1960 [in Vietnam]. . . . lucid and vivid . . . As American involvement escalated, Bernard Fall, the highly respected scholar-journalist of Vietnam’s wars, wrote that Americans were ‘dreaming different dreams than the French but walking in the same footsteps.’ Fredrik Logevall brilliantly explains that legacy.”—Gary R. Hess, San Francisco Chronicle
“Embers of War is simply an essential work for those seeking to understand the worst foreign-policy adventure in American history. . . . Even though readers know how the story ends—as with “The Iliad”—they will be as riveted by the tale as if they were hearing it for the first time.”—The Christian Science Monitor
“A remarkable new history . . . Logevall skillfully explains everything that led up to Vietnam’s fatal partition in 1954 . . . [and] peppers the grand sweep of his book with vignettes of remarkable characters, wise and foolish.”—The Economist
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
“The Empire Is with Us!”
In the late afternoon of june 18, 1940, the tall, stiff-backed Frenchman walked into the BBC studios in London. His country stood on the brink of defeat. German columns were sweeping through France and had entered Paris. The French government under Marshal Philippe Pétain had fled for Bordeaux and had asked the Germans to state their terms for an armistice. These were the darkest days in the country’s history, but General Charles de Gaulle, who had arrived in London the day before, was convinced that France could rise again—provided that her people did not lose heart. De Gaulle had met earlier in the day with Prime Minister Winston Churchill and had secured permission to make a broadcast to France.
He was pale, recalled one of those present, with a brown forelock stuck to his forehead. “He stared at the microphone as though it were France and as though he wanted to hypnotize it. His voice was clear, firm, and rather loud, the voice of a man speaking to his troops before battle. He did not seem nervous but extremely tense, as though he were concentrating all his power in one single moment.”
De Gaulle’s thoughts that day were on the French Empire, whose resources, he sensed, could keep France in the war and fighting. And they were with Britain and the United States, great powers with whom he could ally. “Believe what I tell you,” de Gaulle intoned into the microphone, “for I know of what I speak, and I say that nothing is lost for France.” Then, like a cleric chanting a litany, he declared: “For France is not alone. She is not alone. She is not alone. She has a vast Empire behind her. She can unite with the British Empire that rules the seas and is continuing the fight. Like Britain, she can make unlimited use of the immense industrial resources of the United States.”
The broadcast, which lasted barely four minutes, has gone down in French history as L’Appel du 18 Juin. At the time, however, few heard it and few knew who de Gaulle was. Alexander Cadogan, the permanent undersecretary at the British Foreign Office, knew only that de Gaulle had a “head like a pineapple and hips like a woman’s.” Robert Murphy, the counselor at the U.S. embassy in Paris, could not recall ever having heard of him before that day. The same was true of most of de Gaulle’s compatriots. Although he was notorious within French military circles for his advocacy of the mechanization of the army and the offensive deployment of tanks, few outside that select group would have recognized his name, much less known the essentials of his biography: the birth in Lille in 1890; the diploma from the military academy at Saint-Cyr; the five failed (in part because of his conspicuous height) escape attempts from German prison camps in World War I; the postwar military career initially under the wing of Pétain.
De Gaulle had been promoted to the rank of brigadier general only a few weeks before, in the midst of the Battle of France (thus making him, at forty-nine, the youngest general in the army). He then joined Premier Paul Reynaud’s government on June 5 as undersecretary of state for war. Reynaud sought to carry on the fight, but twelve days later, with the French war effort collapsing wholesale, as German armies were well south of Dijon and pressing down the Atlantic coast, he resigned. De Gaulle, certain that Pétain would seek an armistice, escaped to London, determined to continue the resistance from there.
The basis for de Gaulle’s speech that fateful day was his conviction that the conflict was not limited to Europe. It was a “world war,” he declared, one “not bound by the Battle of France.” He would be proven correct. Likewise, Britain and the United States would become critical to the ultimate victory of de Gaulle’s “Free French” organization, though not in the way he imagined. Even his deep faith in the empire’s importance to his cause would in time find a certain degree of vindication.
A vast empire it was. In 1940, it ranked in size second only to the British, extending some six million square miles and with an overseas population of eighty million. The island of Madagascar alone was bigger than metropolitan France. The colonies of Equatorial and West Africa together were as large as the United States. In the Middle East, the French were a major presence, and they had holdings as well in the Caribbean and the Pacific. And of course, there was Indochina, the Pearl of the Empire, rich in rubber plantations and rice fields. As the farthest-flung of the key French possessions, it along with Algeria (administered as part of France proper) conferred great power status on France and, it was thought, gave her an important voice in global affairs. As a whole, the empire took more than a third of all French trade in the 1930s (a figure inflated by the fact that the Depression caused business leaders to fall back on colonial markets); colonial troops made up 11 percent of mobilized men in 1939.
In his memoirs of the war, de Gaulle recalled his feelings as he sat in London in 1940 and watched the deterioration of the French position in the Far East, at the expense of the encroaching Japanese. “To me, steering a very small boat on the ocean of war, Indochina seemed like a great ship out of control, to which I could give no aid until I had slowly got together the means of rescue,” he wrote. “As I saw her move away into the mist, I swore to myself that I would one day bring her back.”
It was an immense task, de Gaulle knew. The journey would be as long as it was treacherous. It would take time to win French loyalty and French territory and so to establish his legitimacy as the authentic representative of the French nation. In those early days, hardly anyone answered his call. Not only did few people come from France to join him, but most leading French figures already in London decided to return home to support the Pétain government, which negotiated an armistice with Germany on June 22 and set up a collaborationist regime in Vichy, a damp, gloomy spa town best known for its foul-smelling waters. Even many of those who wanted to go on fighting rejected de Gaulle’s call. Some went instead to the United States, while others, including the imperial proconsuls in North Africa and other territories (under the terms of the armistice, the empire was left in French hands), were unprepared to reject the authority of the eighty-four-year-old Pétain, savior of France at Verdun in 1916. The only exceptions in the early months were French Equatorial Africa (Chad, French Congo, and Oubangui-Chari, but not Gabon) and the Cameroons, which declared for de Gaulle in August 1940. That same month a French military court sentenced de Gaulle to death in absentia, for treason against the Vichy regime.
“You are alone,” Churchill told de Gaulle, “I shall recognize you alone.” On June 28, the British government voiced its backing of de Gaulle as “leader of all the Free French, wherever they are to be found, who rally to him in support of the Allied cause.”
The phrasing was important: The British were endorsing de Gaulle the man rather than his organization. Whereas the general saw his outfit as a proto-government rivaling that in Vichy, most London officials hoped Free France could be restricted to the role of a légion combattante, a group of French citizens fighting as a unit within the Allied armies. For them, the only French government was that headed by Marshal Pétain. Still, limited though it was, the British pronouncement was a critical early endorsement of de Gaulle, arguably as important as any he would ever receive. His bold action on June 18 made an impression on Churchill, one that would never quite dissipate even during the tensest moments—and there would be many in the years to come—in their relationship. The romantic in Churchill admired de Gaulle’s epic adventure, his self-importance, his claim to speak for la France éternelle. He saw a certain nobility in the Frenchman’s bravado and shared with him a love of drama and a deep sense of history. When in September the two men joined together in a scheme to try to win French West Africa away from Vichy with an operation against Dakar, de Gaulle rose in Churchill’s esteem despite the fact that the plan ended in humiliating failure. To the House of Commons, the prime minister extolled de Gaulle’s calm and authoritative bearing throughout the engagement and said he had more confidence in the general than ever.
“I had continuous difficulties and many sharp antagonisms with him,” Churchill would write of his relationship with de Gaulle. “I knew he was no friend of England. But I always recognized in him the spirit and conception which, across the pages of history, the word ‘France’ would ever proclaim. I understood and admired, while I resented, his arrogant demeanor. Here he was—a refugee, an exile from his country under sentence of death, in a position entirely dependent upon the good will of Britain, and now of the United States. The Germans had conquered his country. He had no real foothold anywhere. Never mind; he defied all.”
A very different attitude prevailed in Washington, where President Franklin Delano Roosevelt and his advisers from the start kept their distance from de Gaulle and his cause. Shocked and appalled by France’s swift collapse against the Germans, despite having what on paper was arguably Europe’s strongest army, Roosevelt concluded that France had essentially ceased to exist. Thenceforth, during moments of pessimism (and not infrequently in happier times as well), he believed the worst about France and concluded she would never again regain her status as a leading power. Investing military might and diplomatic aid in trying to defend her was therefore pointless. Following the armistice, Washington chose a policy of expedience, maintaining diplomatic relations with Vichy in the hope that the French fleet and the Pétain government would not be driven totally into the arms of the Nazis. As for de Gaulle, he was as yet largely a nonentity for Roosevelt. In time, as we shall see, the American president would adopt toward the general an attitude of unremitting hostility.
II
in indochina, word of the french defeat hit like a bolt from the blue. Already in 1939, after Germany’s attack on Poland, there had been murmurings in Saigon and Hanoi, among colons as well as literate Vietnamese, about whether Hitler could be stopped, and if he couldn’t, what it would mean for them. A 1938 French film shown on local screens asked Are We Defended? and left the answer disconcertingly open. Still, no one had imagined that the defeat of la belle France could ever occur so swiftly, so completely. The turn of events may have seemed especially dizzying in Indochina and elsewhere in the empire, for certain key details—that French forces fought hard and suffered huge losses at Sedan and elsewhere along the river Meuse, for example, or that the greater part of the French army was taken prisoner—emerged only slowly in the colonies.
“Overnight, our world had changed,” recalled Bui Diem, a young French-educated Vietnamese in Hanoi who had breathlessly followed news accounts of the fighting. “Mine was the third generation for whom the universe had been bounded by France, her language, her culture, and her stultifying colonial apparatus. Now, in a moment, the larger world had intruded itself on our perceptions. Our ears were opened wide, straining to pick up signals from the outside that would give us some hint as to what this might mean.”
In the governor-general’s residence in Hanoi, speculation was rife. General Georges Catroux, only a year into the job, was devoted to the empire and to keeping France in the fight against Hitler; for both reasons he was drawn immediately to de Gaulle’s cause. The two men went way back, having been prisoners of war together in a high-security camp in Ingolstadt, Germany, in World War I, and they maintained deep mutual respect. But Catroux, an intelligent and highly literate five-star general who as a young man had been an aide-de-camp in Hanoi but whose recent postings had been in North Africa, was powerless; his Indochina, isolated from the metropole by thousands of miles of ocean, faced growing pressure from Japan. For Tokyo authorities, the fall of France represented a perfect opportunity to remove several obstacles to their New Order in East Asia. Three years into a war with Chiang Kai-shek’s Republican China, the Japanese had long been bothered about American weapons and other Western supplies reaching beleaguered Chinese armies via the railway that ran from Haiphong to Kunming. The amounts were significant: An estimated 48 percent of all supplies came by this route. Catroux succumbed to Japanese pressure to sharply limit shipments of weapons, but food and other supplies continued to arrive, and the Japanese began to think that only by seizing Indochina could they stop the flow. Moreover, Indochina could provide imperial Japan with significant supplies of rubber, tin, coal, and rice—all important in ending her dependence upon foreign sources of vital strategic raw materials. Geostrategically, meanwhile, Indochina could serve as an advanced base for operations against the Far Eastern possessions of the other Western colonial powers. For senior Japanese leaders, in short, the events in Europe opened up glorious new possibilities. Hitler’s victories, American ambassador to Tokyo Joseph Grew noted, “like strong wine, have gone to their heads.”
In Hanoi, Catroux moved cautiously, aware that he had few cards to play. In previous months, as Japanese gains in China brought them ever closer to Indochina, he realized how inadequate Indochina’s defenses were. He had only about 50,000 troops at his disposal, of which some 38,000 were native forces of suspect loyalty. The air force had only twenty-five modern aircraft in all of Indochina, while the navy possessed only a light cruiser, two gunboats, two sloops, and two auxiliary patrol craft. Munitions and other military supplies were negligently low. The Paris government, reeling under the Nazi onslaught, could offer no tangible assistance, he knew, and neither could Britain, focused as she was on the German menace and the defense of Singapore and Malaya. In April and again in May and June, British officials cautioned Catroux against taking any action that might risk war with Japan. Even if His Majesty’s government wanted to provide military assistance, Sir Percy Noble, commander of the British Far Eastern Fleet, told Catroux in late April, it could not; it had no resources to give. The same message was reiterated repeatedly in the weeks thereafter.
The United States was Catroux’s last hope. On June 19, the day after de Gaulle’s speech, René de Saint-Quentin, the French ambassador in Washington, put two questions to Undersecretary of State Sumner Welles. What would the United States do if Indochina came under Japanese attack? And in the meantime, would Washington provide immediate military assistance to Indochina, in the form of 120 aircraft as well as antiaircraft guns? Welles’s reply echoed that of the British. The United States, he said, would do nothing that might provoke the outbreak of hostilities with Japan and therefore would not act to thwart an attack on Indochina. She would provide no planes or weapons. In that case, asked Saint-Quentin, what choice did Saigon have but to accept the Japanese demands? “I will not answer you officially,” Welles said, “but that is what I would do in your place.”
Saint-Quentin and Welles didn’t know it, but hours earlier Japan had issued an ultimatum to Catroux. The Tokyo government demanded an end to the shipment through Tonkin of trucks, gasoline, or other goods of military use to China, as well as the establishment of a Japanese control commission in Indochina to supervise the implementation of the agreement. Catroux ordered Saint-Quentin to make one more appeal to the Americans; when that too failed, he decided to accept the Japanese terms, hoping to forestall a Japanese invasion and preserve French control over Indochina. Already by June 29, Japanese checkpoints had been established in Tonkin at Haiphong, Ha Giang, Lao Cai, Cao Bang, and Lang Son. Perhaps, Catroux reasoned, Tokyo leaders hoped to avoid a costly—in yen and men—occupation of Indochina; perhaps he could temporize and hold on, waiting for a more favorable turn in the war. He cabled his government on June 26: “When one is beaten, when one has few planes and little anti-aircraft defense, no submarines, one tries to keep one’s property without having to fight and one negotiates. That is what I have done.”
Product details
- ASIN : B007EED4P8
- Publisher : Random House (August 21, 2012)
- Publication date : August 21, 2012
- Language : English
- File size : 14200 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Sticky notes : On Kindle Scribe
- Print length : 1100 pages
- Best Sellers Rank: #180,088 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- #67 in History of France
- #69 in International Relations (Kindle Store)
- #96 in Southeast Asia History
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About the author

Fredrik Logevall is Laurence D. Belfer Professor of International Affairs and Professor of History at Harvard University. He is the author or editor of ten books, most recently JFK: Coming of Age in the American Century (Random House, 2020). His book Embers of War: The Fall of an Empire and the Making of America’s Vietnam (Random House, 2012), won the Pulitzer Prize for History as well as the Francis Parkman Prize, the Arthur Ross Award, and other prizes. Logevall's essays and reviews have appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Boston Globe, The Los Angeles Times, The London Review of Books, and Foreign Affairs, among other publications. A native of Stockholm, Sweden, he lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
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I tend to be open to a new slant provided by Lien-Hang Nguyen, Ph.D. from Yale, who writes [in August 2012], "One of the greatest misconceptions of the Vietnam War is that Ho Chi Minh was the uncontested leader of North Vietnam. In reality, Ho was a figurehead while Le Duan, a man who resides in the marginalia of history, was the architect, main strategist and commander in chief of North Vietnam's war effort. The quiet, stern Mr. Duan shunned the spotlight but he possessed the iron will, focus and administrative skill necessary to dominate the Communist Party. . . Mr. Duan constructed a sturdy militarist empire that still looms over Hanoi today. Their hawkish policies led North Vietnam to war against Saigon and then Washington, and ensured that a negotiated peace would never take the place of total victory. Mr. Duan ruled the party with an iron fist and saw Ho and Gen. Vo Nguyen Giap, renowned for defeating the French at Dien Bien Phu, as the greatest threats to his authority. He sidelined Ho, General Giap and their supporters when making nearly all key decisions." However Eisenhower and his hard-line Secretary of State, John Foster Dulles were convinced that Ho Chi Minh was aligned with Moscow and Red China, and thus represented a burgeoning communist expansionism that posed a threat to the Free World. This view has been shown in later years to not be entirely true. Eisenhower had pledged, during his campaign, to adopt a more aggressive anti-communist policy, and thus move beyond the passive containment policy of the Truman Administration, which many conservatives alleged had resulted in the loss of China to the communists in 1949, which in turn had encouraged the North Korean communists to invade South Korea in 1950. During 1954, Eisenhower's second year in office, the United States commissioned the world's first nuclear-powered submarine in order to confront the Soviet nuclear threat while also funding nearly 80% of France's total military costs in Indochina. It was during April of 1954, while the battle of Dien Bien Phu was still raging, that President Eisenhower made use of a powerful metaphor, referred to as the domino theory, to effectively convey his belief that if Vietnam were to fall to the communists, it would set off a domino effect, whereupon the other countries of Southeast Asia would also fall to the communists -- like "a row of dominos." After the spilling of so much American blood in Korea, Eisenhower came to the conclusion that the United States should avoid the expenditure of American manpower to fight any more land wars in Asia, while alternatively emphasizing the strategic nuclear deterrent. Nevertheless, in 1955 Eisenhower approved the dispatch of U.S. military advisors to Vietnam to assist the South Vietnamese Army in its fight against the communists. Ironically, when Eisenhower briefed Kennedy during January 1961, just before leaving office, he was more concerned about communist Pathet Lao expansionism in Laos than anything going on in Vietnam. For Laos, which had been granted full independence in 1954 as a result of the Geneva Conference, was in the midst of civil conflict between the Royal Laotian Army and the communist Pathet Lao that had broken out in 1959 and would continue into 1962, ending with the formation of a coalition government and the declared neutrality of that country. Now that there was a U.S. military presence in neighboring South Vietnam, President Kennedy felt obliged to increase military aid to South Vietnam during 1961. There is no denying that Kennedy was a World War II military veteran and a true-blue Cold War warrior who viewed communism as a global threat, against which he was prepared to use military force. Years later McNamara claimed that President Kennedy had begun to have doubts about U.S. involvement in Vietnam and was determined to pull the military advisors out just as soon as he was elected for his second term, which would have commenced during January 1965. Unfortunately we will never know about this potential turn of history, because Kennedy was assassinated during his first term after less than three years in office. In one sense, we were not truly at war until after Kennedy was gone, and Johnson had been elected in his own right and began sending combat troops, in large numbers, to Vietnam during the spring and summer of 1965.
Logevall has written a superb book that illuminates a sizable slice of history that begins with the Japanese occupation of Indochina during 1940 and proceeds through the liberation, the commencement of hostilities between the Vietminh and the French in 1946, up through the culminating Battle of Dien Bien Phu in 1954, which essentially ended the first Indochina war during which French Union Forces (made up of Frenchmen, French Foreign Legionnaires, and French Colonial troops from Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Senegal, Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia) suffered more than 74,000 deaths, of which 20,685 were Frenchmen, the best soldiers that France could put in the field, and they were beaten soundly. Logevall goes on to detail American involvement up through 1959, ending with an epilogue that extends to 1965. And through it all, there is Ho Chi Minh, who Logevall brings to life, while fleshing out this complex and mystifying character. A remarkable historical achievement of a subject that is of continuing interest to those who are still striving to better understand America's involvement in Southeast Asia. The book is extremely well written and can be enjoyed by academics and by the casual reader who wishes to have a broader understanding of actions that led up to America's Vietnam War.
A. T. Lawrence, author of Crucible Vietnam
At home the country was deeply divided, in a way that those who had lived through World War II could not envision.
Fredrik Logevall has produced an excellent history of Indochina that takes the reader through World War II, and then those years from 1945 when the Japanese who had occupied the country pulled out, and the French tried to return. They did return, but the Vietnamese had had a bellyful of colonialism under the French, and they felt ready to throw them out.
Franklin D. Roosevelt and Winston Churchill met in the early stages of World War II, even before the U.S. had entered the war aboard two naval warships in Placentia Bay, Newfoundland and worked out an agreement for the allied nations about the world after the war. That was the Atlantic Charter. One principal statement was a declaration that colonies all over the world would be given the right of self-determination after the war.
Roosevelt felt strongly about this, but Churchill agreed simply to get American cooperation at a time when Great Britain faced annihilation by Germany. Roosevelt died just five months before the war ended; if he had been president longer, he probably would have kept the French from even thinking about retaining Indochina after the Japanese had left.
However, Harry Truman became president, and he knew little about foreign policy, or colonialism, and approached the situation in Indochina like most Americans of the time would have. The French had ruled before the war, so they should continue afterward.
Logevall introduces us to Ho Chi Minh, who is a young man when he travels to Paris at the peace conference after World War I in 1919. Dressed in his best suit, this young Vietnamese hopes to have a visit with Woodrow Wilson, and acquaint him with the plight of Indochina under the harsh rule of the French. But Wilson won’t see him.
Ho is an absolutely dedicated Vietnamese patriot. He reached out to the Americans to save his country, beginning in 1919 and at different times afterward. He was not always a dedicated communist, and therefore an absolute enemy of the U.S.
Logevall floats the proposition that if we and Ho had worked together after World War II to build an Indochina destined for self-rule, it could have become a strong friend of the United States in the region, instead of a “domino”.
It is tempting today to look questioningly at the white-hot hatred and fear that our leaders, from Truman, then Eisenhower, Kennedy and Johnson--- felt about communism. Eisenhower introduced the idea that we absolutely had to support the French to keep Vietnam out of the hands of the communists, because at that time they were gobbling up countries around the world: Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Poland, Bulgaria, Albania, China, Rumania, Yugoslavia, Mongolia, Somalia, Ethiopia, Afghanistan, Sudan, South Yemen, Benin, Mozambique --- one domino after another.
Next came Soviet sponsorship of emerging former colonies in Africa like the Congo and Angola, and Egypt, Libya, Syria and Iraq, Cuba and Nicaragua.
Now, Communism is a mere shell of its former self, but in those years, we felt seriously threatened.
Logevall does a marvelous job of reporting on the diplomatic conferences that took place over Indochina/Vietnam over the years, but his best piece of writing is his description of Dien Bien Phu.
In 1954 the French decided to build this base in an area 200 miles west of Hanoi, up near the Laotian border, on the main route between the two countries. This would be a strong base that would prevent Ho Chi Minh’s Viet Minh from marching into Laos, and, the French thought, serve to defeat the Viet Minh once and for all.
Its location was in a valley where its guns could cover the floor of the valley, and the surrounding mountains were far enough away that they could not be used by enemy artillery to attack.
The base could only be supplied by air, which seems to me to be such a stupid place to establish a base. Logevall narrates in colorful detail how the French generals planned and built this base. The author also relates the Viet Minh side as to how they marched their troops down to surround the base, and the tremendous loss of human life on both sides.
Dien Bien Phu was still raging when the 1954 Geneva Peace Conference convened. It ended on May 7, with the Viet Minh flag flying over the French base. This conference was intended to settle issues remaining on the Korean Peninsula and in Vietnam. Participants were the USSR, the People’s Republic of China, France, the United Kingdom, the U.S. and for Vietnam the Viet Minh and the government of Ngô Đình Diệm.
John Foster Dulles represented the United States at the start of Geneva, but he showed himself to be so virulently against the communists that there could be no negotiation. When he returned to the U.S. and turned over negotiation to Walter Bedell Smith, negotiations involving the U.S. became more achievable. Churchill called Dulles a “pompous ass.”
Those were the years that Senator McCarthy was holding forth with his “Communist behind every tree” witch hunt. We really made Communists seem 20 feet tall! It is fascinating to me to see how we closed off Cuba and have kept it closed off, because it is communist, albeit a sad advertisement for any economic story, yet we never closed off diplomatic relations with the Soviet Union. And, when Nixon was President, we did the unthinkable and initiated relations with the People’s Republic of China!
The 1954 Geneva Conference resulted in partition of Vietnam at the 17th parallel, with the government of Ngô Đình Diệm ruling South Vietnam from Saigon, and the Viet Minh under Ho ruling the North from Hanoi. Ngô had been living in exile in the U.S., and as a Catholic he had made all the connections to build strong support in America and from the Catholic Church. Eisenhower invited Ngô to visit the United States in 1957 and he was treated like royalty with ticker tape parades and honors and fanfare, touted as an example of the triumph of free people over communism.
Ngô was yet another example of a tinhorn dictator playing up opposition to communism while the U.S. filled his pockets with gold. By 1963 his regime became unbearable to the U.S. and President Kennedy ordered a coup to depose him. On November 2, 1963 the South Vietnamese Army took over the government and Ngô and his brother were assassinated. Twenty days later, Kennedy was assassinated.
It seems that one lesson can be made of all these years, from 1945 until today, and that is the idea that you accomplish nothing by not recognizing and not speaking to people representing opposing states. It is quite possible that if President Wilson had taken the time to visit with Ho Chi Minh, the story of Vietnam might have been quite different. Likewise, if Franklin D. Roosevelt had lived to insist of driving the French out of Indochina at the end of World War II, we might have been able to help establish a friendly government, led by Ho Chi Minh.
Those are “ifs”, and history is full of those.
Top reviews from other countries
The shortsightedness and brutality of a France, USA and indeed most European countries is incredibly well documented and analyzed. The Vietnamese leadership and their actions during 30-40 years are described well but quite objectively.
A tour de force by a writer who obviously knows the subject extremely well.
A must read - even if it is a very long read - for anyone wanting to understand Vietnam, the futility of colonialism and how impossible it is to keep a population from fighting for freedom.
Very thought provoking at this very moment in time.
Book received in very good condition, printed in US.
the Vietnam war stakes are very high indeed. No less mindboggling that it is a Swedish born historian -trained at American universities- who wrote this Pulitzer prized awarded first full-fledged international account of how the whole saga began. It is a story little known to readers on both sides of the Atlantic depicting a splendid cast of larger-than-life characters (including half a dozen U.S. presidents), heroic in their endeavors if absurd in their lack of accomplishments.
Focus is on the political and diplomatic dimensions of the struggle plus the military campaigns crucial to the outcome.
For the Vietnamese came a rude awakening after Dien Bien Phu in 1954 when they realised that the US was no liberator supporting self-determination for all nations large and small against colonialism.
It was another big white Western power there to tell them how to conduct their affairs with guns at the ready. Same awakening hitting many others since.







