War Origins Again?
This is an important book. It is not customary to inquire into the
origins of colonial wars; we seem rather to take them for granted
as part of an inevitable tide of postwar decolonization, their
origins thus requiring no explanation. Yet despite, or perhaps
because of these conflicts, much of imperialism's end occurred
peacefully, or amid disturbances short of war. France's long and
tortured Algerian conflict from 1954 to 1962 followed immediately
after the French termination of their phase of the war in
Indochina, but obscures the simultaneous granting of independence
to Morocco and Tunisia in 1956 and the progressive acts of
legislation marking the end of the colonial dependence of French
black Africa by 1960. The Indochinese conflict was prelude to all
of these events, yet its significance is far greater. In its later
stages the conflict was absorbed by the cold war, financed by the
United States, and finally taken over by the Americans, stretching
out into a thirty-year war that ended where it started, with
Vietnam under the control of the Viet Minh, but with the United
States altered almost beyond recognition and the cold war itself
transformed. Like all wars however, it had a beginning, and its
origins and "causes" beg for explanation. Martin Shipway,
Professor of French at Birkbeck College, University of London, has
gone a long way toward providing one.
Shipway casts his net widely, situating Vietnam in
the context of the broader question of postwar decolonization. The
Dutch and British also pursued the chimerical goal of bridging the
distance between nascent colonial nationalism and the preservation
of empire, whether in the form of commonwealth, federation, or ill-
defined "union". But was the project for a French Union bound to
fail? Were the French pursuing an illusion? To take such a
position is to take the easy way out as an excuse for failing to
examine the specific reasons why this particular war broke out
where and when it did. Shipway shows that once one gets into the
specifics, the broader context of decolonization appears
increasingly problematic as explanation. God is indeed in the
details.
The plan for a renewed and modernized French Union
was laid down at the conference of Brazzaville, French Congo, in
1944, and assumed a hallowed place in Gaullist mythology as a
liberal and progressive call for an end to imperialism, appropriate
to de Gaulle's movement of Free French seeking to liberate
metropolitan France from the Nazi scourge. As a number of French
scholars have shown, the Brazzaville conference was nothing of the
kind. It was a closed meeting of a small number of colonial
administrators, admitting no representatives of subject peoples
themselves (Felix Eboue, the one assimilated black, was part of the
French colonial administration), which left an ambiguous legacy,
advocating economic and cultural reforms but rigidly excluding any
idea of independence for France's former colonies. Henri
Laurentie, whose papers provide a good deal of Shipway's most
interesting source materials, sketched the plan for the French
Union--which eventually categorized France's former colonies as
Associated States, Territories, and Overseas Departments within
the French Union--but his ideas were rejected at Brazzaville. De
Gaulle took them over later and attributed them to Brazzaville,
however, creating its myth, much as he did the myth of Vichy as the
shield and the Resistance the sword, both in some sense working for
French liberation.
Laurentie, the Director of Political Affairs in the
ministry of colonies, pursued his ideas for a French Union against
a backdrop of constraints imposed, in Shipway's terms, by
considerations of salience, ideology, and institutional solidarity.
"Salience" referred to the degree of importance colonial affairs
assumed in the domestic political maelstrom of Paris from 1944 to
1947; "ideology" was defined by the parameters of the postwar
Gaullist-Republican synthesis; and "institutional solidarity",
which turned out to be the most critical of the three, involved the
degree of control Paris was able to exercise over its colonial
bureaucracy. The Indochina war established the disastrous pattern
of unauthorized actions by colonial and military officials in the
colonies later being rationalized and "covered" by weak Paris
politicians preoccupied with domestic political crises, the malady
which eventually was to destroy the Fourth Republic in 1958. These
three constraints were relatively inoperative in 1944-45, allowing
the parameters of a reasonably rational Indochina policy to be laid
down. Salience was low, Gaullism and Republicanism appeared part
of a unitary vision, and the colonial administration was in hand.
Unfortunately this happy situation was not to last: colonial issues
became part of internal Paris politics, Gaullism and Republicanism
were to appear antithetical to one another, and the colonial
bureaucracy went its own way by the war's outbreak in 1946. But
this gets us ahead of our story. For even when these constraints
were not yet operative, Laurentie found his federalist ideas
running up against traditional French myths of the unity and
indivisibility of the Republic and the assimilation of colonial
peoples into a nation of "100 million Frenchmen". France would not
abandon its mission civilisatrice.
Indochina was under a Vichy administration covered
by a virtual Japanese protectorate for most of the war; only in
March 1945 did the Japanese finally push the Vichy administration
aside in a coup d'etat. In March 1945 the French government made
its first declaration on Indochina, which had been targeted by U.S.
President Franklin Roosevelt as a flagrant example of historical
French misrule. The declaration promised Indochina freedom within
the context of the yet-to-be French Union. But the declaration
bore little relationship to events on the ground, where Ho Chi Minh
and the nationalist Viet Minh had seized power in the wake of
Hiroshima and the Japanese defeat. Shipway tries too hard, I
think, to portray Laurentie as a relatively enlightened and liberal
official. He undercuts his case by showing that Laurentie's
liberalism reflected a pragmatic consideration born of French
weakness rather than any altruistic spirit of generosity.
Laurenties's policy reflected the French desire to salvage what it
could.
The contradiction became at once apparent when
France returned to Indochina, prepared, to be sure, to negotiate
with Ho Chi Minh even to the point of uttering the fatal word
"independence", however defined. But de Gaulle chose to send an
uncompromising Governor General in the person of the redoubtable
Thierry d'Argenlieu, whose imperialism was held with all the fervor
of his Catholicism (d'Argenlieu was a former monk and returned to
the monastery when he retired). D'Argenlieu was endowed with the
traditional powers equivalent to those of a dictator, and
instructed to apply a program of "five lands" in Indochina,
Cambodia, Laos, and a divided Vietnam into three provinces or ky,
Tonkin, Annam, and Cochinchina. To back this up the French came
with four French divisions under the heroic General Philippe
Leclerc, who wasted no time in establishing a tenuous control in
the South. Little wonder that Ho Chi Minh proved so compliant and
agreed to negotiate on the basis of independence within the context
of the French Union. A consensus built of mutually pragmatic
considerations drove the two sides into the accords of March 6,
1946. Ho Chi Minh agreed to abide by the results of free elections
to determine the question of the unity of the three ky, and he
accepted the return of French troops to the North. Paris in turn
agreed that Vietnam would enjoy independence within the Indochinese
federation and the French Union, and French troops would withdraw
within five years. But both sides chafed under these terms, and
meanwhile de Gaulle resigned and France entered a cycle of
constitution making, referenda, and elections. A three-way
argument over the locus of power developed between d'Argenlieu on
the ground in Vietnam, the colonial bureaucracy in Paris, and the
special inter-ministerial committee charged with Indochinese policy
under the prime minister, known by the unlikely appellation of
"Cominindo".
The March accords provided for negotiations, first
at Dalat, to settle the terms of Vietnam's place in the Indochinese
Federation, and then in Paris, to determine Vietnam's role in the
French Union. Dalat turned quickly to stalemate: Ho returned to
the issue of the unity of Vietnam, and was shocked to discover that
France meant to monopolize the diplomatic representation of the
Indochinese Federation: a "free" French Vietnam in the French Union
in fact was intended to enjoy autonomous powers neither in defense,
foreign policy, finances, or education. Ho firmly rejected these
terms, counting on his ability to mobilize more progressive support
in Paris, but he arrived there in June 1946 to discover yet a
further set of unpleasant facts. The constitutional draft for the
Fourth Republic was in the process of being rejected by the voters,
a relatively progressive government of Socialist Felix Gouin gave
way, after new elections, to a government headed by colonialist
Georges Bidault of the Mouvement républicain populaire (MRP). And
back in Vietnam, in a policy of establishing new "facts" on the
ground, d'Argenlieu declared an autonomous Republic of Cochinchina.
Marius Moutet, Gouin's minister of colonies, approved d'Argenlieu's
action and the government's negotiator in Fontainebleau, Max Andre
of the MRP, was the same person who had refused any and all
concessions at Dalat. Finally, de Gaulle laid down his challenge
to the restored "system" of political parties at Bayeux, calling
for a strong executive, indicting it, among other deficiencies, for
its failure to affirm the integrity of the empire, with none other
than D'Argenlieu, back in France for a strategic visit, at his
side.
In this situation Ho discovered no more disposition
to make concessions in Paris than had existed on the French side in
Vietnam. In frustration he worked out yet another "modus vivendi"
and returned home to an increasingly restive constellation of
political forces in the Viet Minh. Here Shipway begins, alas, to
fail us, for he can tell us nothing certain of the pressures and
conflicts within the Viet Minh, and he spends precious little time
on French perceptions of the Viet Minh either. It takes, after
all, two to tango and two to go to war.
Shipway is very good on the Paris side, however,
where he now discerns a three-way division over what to do next.
Moutet and the government Cominindo wanted to continue negotiations
with Ho Chi Minh, putting pressure on him by pursuing the creation
of a genuinely democratic republic in Cochinchina which could
become the basis of a unified Vietnam under an alternative
government to the Viet Minh. Laurentie and the colonial
bureaucracy favored a stronger policy and negotiating position
relying on a possible show of force, within the context of
negotiations, but meant to bring Ho Chi Minh to his knees. Finally,
d'Argenlieu, backed by General Jean Valluy, in charge of the
expeditionary force, favored a preemptive strike designed to
eliminate the Ho Chi Minh government from power. There were
rational voices warning against the consequences of this policy.
Admiral Pierre Barjot of the chiefs of staff thought it would
require 250,000 men to subdue Vietnam. In the event a far too
conservative estimate even for the Americans later, and Leclerc,
who knew the situation intimately, thought France too weak to
endure a protracted war that was sure to ensue.
As the two sides waited for the modus vivendi and
new negotiations to begin on October 30, violence erupted in the
South where French control was slipping. The Cochinchinese
"government" unravelled in the absence of popular support and its
head, Dr Nguyen Van Thinh, committed suicide. France again went to
the polls and this time approved the second constitutional draft
albeit by a bare plurality. The Communist party emerged the
largest in still new elections, and a five week governmental crisis
ensued until the designation of a Socialist prime minister, Leon
Blum, took place on December 12. Blum was firmly committed to the
policy of pursuing negotiations with Ho Chi Minh on the basis of
Vietnamese independence within the French Union. With events
spinning out of control, Shipway suggests, d'Argenlieu and Valluy,
fearing the consequences of negotiations conducted by Blum, decided
on their own on a preemptive military strike to destroy Ho Chi Minh
and his government. One has here a foretaste of Algeria in May
1958, and if Shipway is right, an eerie parallel. The Third
Republic was established and fell as the consequence of two defeats
at the hands of Germany. The Fourth Republic was born and died to
the tune of military-bureaucratic insurrections in Vietnam and
Algeria. Unfortunately, it is impossible to say whether Shipway is
right, or is offering us a rather ingenious speculation.
The incidents in Haiphong appear rather straight-
forward, and do appear to buttress Shipway's point. The French
tried to seize control of customs in the port and impounded an oil
freighter. The Vietnamese resisted, shots were fired, and in
reaction French troops asserted their control of the city, killing
243 persons in the process (and losing 7 of their own). They then
bombarded the city from the sea for good measure, killing anywhere
from 600 to 6,000 people, depending upon whom one believes. On
December 16 there occurred in Hanoi a secret meeting chaired by
d'Argenlieu with Valluy and others present. We have no minutes,
but Shipway assures us it had all the signs of a "war council". On
December 19 French troops set about demolishing barricades which
the Vietnamese were constructing in various areas of the city,
apparently in an effort to forestall another French attempt like
the one which had just occurred in Haiphong. The Vietnamese again
resisted; there was a period of standoff, French troops appearing
to stand down, but in the evening a series of brutal Viet Minh
attacks occurred on French forces throughout the city. Was it the
result of provocateurs? The French Sureté générale? Dissidents
in the Viet Minh challenging Ho Chi Minh? General Vo Nguyen Giap,
Vietnamese minister of defense? Or were the attacks ordered by Ho
himself? Shipway offers all of these as possibilities, curiously
reducing the likelihood of a planned Vietnamese attack on the
French far below what most other scholars have believed and
asserted.
Shipway here leaves us to our own devices, but
conspiracy theorists are buttressed by the inexplicable delay of Ho
Chi Minh's congratulations, sent to Blum on December 15, but which
did not arrive in Paris until December 20, the day after the
incidents. Blum, in ignorance of the full dimensions of what had
occurred, sent a courteous reply to Ho combined with an offer of a
cease-fire and resumption of negotiations. On December 23 he sent
Moutet, accompanied by Leclerc, to Indochina, ostensibly to see Ho.
But in the meantime, learning of the events in Hanoi, Blum fell
back on a familiar refrain: order must be restored prior to any
negotiations. Moutet, once in Hanoi and shown the evidence of the
carnage and "brutality" of the Viet Minh, renounced seeing Ho,
observing that "before any negotiations it is necessary that there
be a military outcome". The consequence of this policy was seven
years of war, Dien Bien Phu, and the Geneva agreements of 1954,
which ended the French role in Vietnam. None of which prevented
the French from replaying the whole chanson again in Algeria.
This leads me to my final point. Shipway has done a
brilliant job of dissecting the currents of thought in Paris and
Saigon and tracing their consequences in terms of policy. One
cannot talk of longue durée of the Annales school in the
twentieth century, but he does put his story in the context of the
conjuncture, decolonization, and then does a masterful job of
resurrecting the importance of narrative and histoire
événementielle. But in portraying a struggle for power between
the colonial bureaucracy and Saigon against the backdrop of a
Gaullist-like analysis of paralysis of the political system in
Paris, it seems to me he exaggerates the existing differences and
over-emphasizes the possible policy outcomes. All French
politicians of the era, including the Communists, whose vision of
the recast French empire was a version of the Soviet Union with its
fourteen "independent" Soviet republics, shared in what historians
have aptly called the colonial "myth" or consensus. The choice of
d'Argenlieu was de Gaulle's, and Gaullism, contrary to the myth
which the General's contemporary admirers are today busily
constructing, was no advocate of the emancipation of colonial
peoples. De Gaulle did not indict the system because it lacked "a"
policy but because it was too weak for his taste in applying "his"
policy of repression. The same was true of de Gaulle and the
regime again in the crisis over Algeria. The Fourth Republic did
not lack a policy, despite ministerial instability and the same
blatant bureaucratic insubordination which existed during the
crisis in Indochina. If politicians in Paris accepted and
"covered" for actions carried out independently by military and
colonial officials in the colonies, it was because a consensus in
the government existed in support of those policies, and was backed
in turn by French public opinion which concurred in associating the
loss of France's colonies with national decline. Moreover, during
the Algerian crisis, many of these acts of so-called
insubordination were actually covered beforehand by one or another
minister acting without authorization of the cabinet as a whole. I
suspect the same may have been true in the case of Indochina.
Premier Paul Ramadier, who succeeded Blum, blandly accepted
d'Argenlieu's resignation in March 1947, offered because the prime
minister would not abandon the hope of dealing eventually with Ho
Chi Minh. How easy it was! Why then did no one cashier
d'Argenlieu earlier? However fearful his reputed Gaullism, there
is no documented evidence of any capability of d'Argenlieu or the
army carrying out a coup d'état in Paris, as was later to be the
case during the war in Algeria.
If I have gone on so long, it is out of enthusiasm
for the story Shipway has to tell and the skilful way he tells it.
This book is extremely well written, and I found reading it almost
effortless, something I can say about all too few monographs that
come across my desk. The manner in which the author weaves
together the diverse strands of policy-making, combining domestic
politics, bureaucratic considerations, and the situation on the
ground in Saigon and Hanoi must stand as a model of the way war
origins should and must be presented. It is many years since
historian Arno Mayer told us to pay attention to the internal
origins of war. Shipway has done so with fine results. I believe,
however, that the author has exaggerated the different policy
options possible in Paris. And lurking in the background, marring
somewhat an otherwise fine story, is our historical ignorance of
the internal politics of the Viet Minh. Did Ho Chi Minh face
similar problems of bureaucratic insubordination? Was he feuding
with General Giap? Was he the moderate he is so often portrayed to
be? Shipway does not make sufficient use of the existing works on
Vietnamese communism. A study of these questions is needed to
complement and complete the French side of the story which Shipway
has so finely told. But I recommend this book to anyone interested
in the origins of what may one day be considered the second thirty-
years war of our "short" century.
Irwin Wall
University of California, Riverside
irwin.wall@ucr.edu
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