IN A COMPREHENSIVE ESSAY on adoles‑

cence, George E. Gardner lists as a major and most difficult task confront­ing the child as he enters adolescence, the giving up of the security that is predicated upon the "all-knowingness" and the "all-powerfulness" of his mother and father. In this connection Gardner emphasizes

... the extreme vulnerability of all adolescents (or of adults who are still essentially adoles­cent) to the cry and to the seductive voice of the false leader or the leader with the false ideology or intent. That adolescents (of what­ever chronological age) are appealed to—and respond to—such leaders, is accounted for by the fact that the latter always promise, among other things, an omniscient who can do their thinking and an omnipotent who will be their power.i°

There is a parallelism between these growing pains of adolescence and the growing pains of a developing demo­cratic society. In both instances, there is the danger of regression to an earlier phase of development, where security is sought by relying on an omniscient and omnipotent authority. The success of the democratic process requires citizens who arc psychologically ready and willing to think creatively, to make choices, to make decisions as adults, not only in their family and other interpersonal re­lations but also in matters affecting their community and the nation. The demo­cratic process, to be successful, also re­quires elected representatives who are able to resist the occupational hazards of their positions of leadership.—the temptation to feel and act omniscient and omnipotent.

Too often there is a polarization, a division of labor, a division of society into two castes: the leaders and the led. Too often the ordinary citizen, beset by the cares and demands of everyday liv­ing, is relieved and content to leave the business of governing to the leaders. And too often the professional "gov­ernors" are men who arc attracted to this profession by their need to wield power, the need to feel and be omni­potent.

One of the situations that bring this division into sharp relief is the state of war. The men who govern in time of war quite openly arrogate to themselves special powers over the governed. The reason given for this arrogation is the need to "maintain unity on the home front in time of crisis." This phrase means simply that the government feels it can not tolerate, in wartime, expres‑





4/

sions or actions that may turn public opinion against the war effort.

In past wars, our government, like other governments, has employed force­ful means and appeals to jingoism to achieve the required suppression of dis­sent. For example, in 1917, during World War I, the Congress enacted a Sedition Act under which more than 1,900 persons were convicted for such crimes as

... making a movie of the American Revolu­tion showing Britain and America at war; say­ing that war drove men mad; urging people to vote against Congressmen who had voted for conscription; and writing a pamphlet which said that war is contrary to the teachings of Christ., 2

In an upsurge of superpatriotism, an interest in anything German was consid­ered unpatriotic. Sauerkraut became lib­erty cabbage; opera companies stopped performing Wagner; and symphony or­chestras eliminated works by German composers from their repertories.

The current war in Vietnam has to date been relatively free of such phe­nomena. In fact, high government of­ficials, including the President, Vice President, and Secretary of State, have made a point on several occasions of defending the right of dissenters to pro­test. They have even pointed with pride to these proofs of freedom of speech in an America at war.

It may be that the government is not employing the gross techniques of sup­pression of former wars because there has not been a declaration of war by Congress. The government might there­fore be on precarious legal ground if it attempted to invoke wartime powers of suppression. A more likely explanation, however, is that the gross suppressive techniques of previous wars have been replaced by more subtle methods ,which are effective without being offensive, methods whose effectiveness is enhanced by the refinements of the new "science" of public relations and by the all-per­vasiveness of the mass media.

A major element in the new, "public relations" approach is the very gradual escalation of the war effort. In this process of graduated escalation, each new step toward greater involvement is in itself small and seemingly insignifi­cant. Each step appears to evolve as a logical consequence of a previous small and seemingly insignificant step toward greater involvement. And the new step equally logically prepares the ground for the next small and seemingly in­significant step.

The smallness of each step, and its logical evolution out of previous steps, make it acceptable. The gradualness of the process produces a habituation to the involvement. The end result is that the people find themselves deeply corn­mitted to large-scale war, without being able to tell how it came about, when and how it all began.

This point was dramatically illus­trated at the hearings on the war in Vietnam of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. On February 17, 1966 the following interchange took place:

Senator Hickenlooper: When was the commit­ment made for us to actively participate in the military operations of the war with Amer­ican personnel?

General Maxwell Taylor: Insofar as the use of our combat ground forces are concerned, that took place, of course, only in the spring of 1965. In the air, we had been participating



5/

and now Special Consultant to the Presi­dent, could only say vaguely, "in the air we had been participating more actively over two or three years" is characteristic of the confusion and uncertainty pro­duced by this kind of gradual escalation.

At this juncture, with the nation al­ready deeply involved in actual fighting, other seemingly cogent arguments take over; e.g.: The nation is in danger. Our boys are fighting and dying. Now is not the time for doubting, questioning, hesi­tating, debating. We must give full sup­port to our boys at the front. Those who refuse full support, or who hesitate, give comfort to the enemy and are directly responsible for unnecessary deaths at the front. All we can do now is to rally 'round the flag, support our Commander­in-Chief. Etc.

Under these conditions, there is no longer any need for direct suppressive measures to guarantee a pro-war con­sensus. Instead one can employ appeals to "maturity," to concern for one's coun­try, to concern for our boys fighting and dying at the front.

A classic example of this technique appears in a New York Times report of a speech delivered by President Johnson on May 17, 1966:

President Johnson, in his most outspoken attacks on the opponents of his Vietnam policy so far, called on all Americans to unite be­hind him.

Mr. Johnson, gibing at "nervous Nellies," seemed almost to call for an end to criticism of the Administration's actions in Vietnam and to question his critics' patriotism.

Mr. Johnson said, "I ask you and I ask every American to put our country first if we want

to keep it first. .          Put at' ,+y all the childish
divisive things if you want the maturity and the unity chat is the mortar of a nation's great­ness. 1 do not think that those men who are out there lighting. for us tonight think we should enjoy. the luxury of lighting each other back home."'

Here the President skillfully appeals to the regressive wish of his audience to he good little children and surrender their critical faculties, but couches it as an appeal to maturity. He is lecturing his audience as a benevolently despotic father might lecture a naughty child. In the process, the democratic responsibility of the mature citizen to question, to examine, to criticize, is stood on its head and gibed at as the "childish divisive things" indulged in by "nervous Nellics."

These latter-day techniques are far more difficult to counteract psychologi­cally than are techniques of direct sup­pression. The individual no longer ex­periences the suppression as coming from outside himself. The suppression seems rather to come from within, as a logical response to the situation that the country is in. The individual citizen him­self, in response to the President's ap­peals for unity and maturity, suppresses any wish he may have to think critically, to evaluate objectively, to dissent. The suppressing forces are no longer re­garded as ego-alien.

This tendency to self-censorship is re­inforced by another factor. Since he does not understand how the country got so deeply involved in the war, and feels quite confused about it, the average citizen concludes that the problems of war and peace in general, and of the Vietnam war in particular, are much too complicated for his average mind to encompass. This self-depreciation facili­tates a regressive process, where the con­fused and helpless infant-citizen finds comfort in leaving all decisions to the father-figures, the all-powerful President and his all-knowing expert advisers.

Once the citizen has accepted the policy of war, psychological processes come into play which induce him to



6/

distort reality by ignoring or minimizing those facts which contradict the policy, while giving undue weight to facts which tend to validate the policy. Charles E. Osgood has described these processes under his "congruity hypothesis" as the strain toward consistency.20, 21 Leon Festinger has described them as "the reduction of cognitive dissonance." 7-" These theories submit the proposition that when people know things that are not psychologically consistent with one another, they will try to make them con­sistent by various means. Osgood points out that the individual is most likely to change that element in the incongruity to which he has the least intense attach­ment and will maintain that element about which he has the most intense conviction.

To illustrate: When Stephen Decatur made his famous toast "My country right or wrong," he was in fact saying that he was capable of tolerating the cognitive dissonance between the strong positive valence of "my country," and the negative valence of "wrong." The average citizen cannot tolerate the dis­sonance and must change the positive valence of one of the elements to a nega­tive one, or vice versa. He will find it extremely difficult to go through the emotionally painful reevaluation of val­ues and the enormous intellectual efforts that would be involved in admitting to consciousness the idea that his country is engaged in policies and actions that are basically wrong. He will find it easier to eliminate the dissonance by justifying, for example, the bombing and napalming of enemy civilians on such grounds as: the enemy, even civilians, are cruel, ruthless, cunning, fanatical, and none of them can be trusted.

Having achieved this regressive reduc­ tion or elimination of dissonance, the citizen experiences a sense of relief from anxiety and from the pressure of having to think about these complex questions. Henceforth, even if it may seem to him at times that his government's policies are palpably wrong, he can fall back on the comforting thought that there must be some top-secret information to which he has no access, and to which he is not entitled to have access, which can ex­plain everything and make everything all right; and that the father-figures surely know what they are doing.

It seems clear to the behavioral sci­entist that this situation of habituation, confusion, self-devaluation, and regres­sion to an infantile state of helplessness is unhealthy and should be corrected. Some behavioral scientists also feel that their life-long training and professional skills should enable them to make a con­tribution toward ameliorating or "cur­ing" this state of sociopathological ill health. Unfortunately, the situation be­comes much less clear when the specific questions are asked: What can behav­ioral scientists do? What contribution can they make?

Jules Masserman concludes an essay on "Psychological Medicine and World Affairs" (in which he writes propheti­cally as early as 1948 about "the dread prodromata of war") with the question: "What, then, can we as scientists, physi­cians and men of good will do?" After apologizing for the fact that "as is usual in medical treatises, the section on ther­apy must be regrettably brief," Masser-man answers his own question:

First, let us raise our voices to cry havoc and, since our puny professional and academic





7/
securities" would in any case become mean­ingless should catastrophe break, dare to use every means of communication at our com­mand to rouse the world to its danger. [And

second,] let us leave our crumbling ivory towers and use every podium and influence we have to secure a voice on policy-making and governing bodies.16

The writer agrees with Masserman's two proposals. He would suggest, in addition, a third way that a contribution could be made by behavioral scientists. In the case described tit this paper of the public habituation to war, an effort could be made to counteract it by confronting the public with the existence of habitua­tion and helping the average citizen gain insight into its genesis. The gaining of intellectual and emotional insight is an important tool in dynamic psychother­apy. It should be tried in sociotherapy, Perhaps the average citizen can be helped to feel less bewildered, less help­less, if he is helped to understand, step by step, how the present confused situ­ation came about. Perhaps he can gain confidence in his own ability to think and to understand if he can be helped to per­ceive the subtle techniques by which his ability to think has been undermined. Perhaps, as in individual psychotherapy, a gaining of insight into the processes, external and intrapsychic, which led to the citizen's regression, may be the first step toward developing greater maturity and self-confidence.

What follows is offered as a sample of an attempt at such elucidation—an effort at counteracting the habituation to war by retracing some of the early steps in the gradual escalation by which the hab­ituation was established.

HABITUATION BY GRADUAL INVOLVEMENT—A CASE STUDY

It is not easy to determine just when, how, and why the United States became committed to intervene in Vietnam. The involvement began quite indirectly, and seemingly without premeditation or in­ tent. It began as an indirect consequence of the efforts of the United States govern­ment, under the Marshall Plan, to help the countries of Europe recover from the devastation of World War IL

The French became recipients of Mar­shall Plan aid soon after World War II ended. When, in 1946, the French began their war against the Viet Minh in an effort to reestablish their colonial rule in Indochina, Marshall Plan dollars en­abled the French government to release francs for expenditures in that war.1' This first indirect involvement, and the sympathy of American government offi­cials for the role of the French as "the defenders of the cause of human free­dom" in Southeast Asia,4 led inexorably (although in steps barely visible to the unaided human eye) to the present full-scale involvement with over 400,000 American ground troops and all the latest paraphernalia of war.

The indirect involvement continued from 1946 until 1950. Then it became direct. This next step was taken in May 1950, with the announcement that the U.S. would give direct economic aid and military equipment to the French in Viet­nam and to the emperor Bao Dai, who had been appointed by the French to rule Vietnam tinder their tutelage.' This step seemed insignificant at the time (mcrely a shift from indirect aid to di­rect aid), and logical (since the French were our NATO allies).

The sending of American military equipment to Indochina led logically to another step—the sending of American experts to teach the French how to use the equipment. This was another fateful step—the first commitment of American manpower. President Eisenhower wrote in his memoirs:

It is true that certain legislators have ex‑





8/

pressed uneasiness concerning any use of American maintenance personnel in Indochina. They fear that his may be opening the door to increased and unwise introduction of Amer­ican troops into that area. (As indeed it proved to be. /.Z.] The Administration nas given assurances to guard against such devel­opment-5

By May 1954, when the French suf­fered their conclusive defeat at Dien­bienphu, there were 684 such American experts, maintenance personnel, and ad­visers. The French left (in April 1956) but the Americans stayed on, to build up the army of Bao Dai, later of Diem, and still later of the succession of mili­tary juntas that followed the overthrow and assassination of Diem.

These American advisers not only stayed on but multiplied, although very slowly at first. At the end of the Eisen­hower Administration in 1960, there were about 750 American military per­sonnel in South Vietnam." Although they were military men, they wore civil­ian clothes, because the Geneva Accords of 1954 forbade "the introduction into Vietnam of any troop reinforcements and additional military personnel." 27

The next step was also a seemingly unimportant one, but it was perhaps cru­cial. The American advisers began to appear on the streets of Saigon in Amer­ican military uniforms. This "surfacing" of the American military in Vietnam was also very gradual. Here, for the first time, was established a palpable, visible American military presence in South Vietnam. Once this was established, all that followed seemed logical and in-es itable.

The increase in American troop in­s olvement was considerably accelerated during the Kennedy Administration. By the end of 1961, the newly elected Presi­dent had more than quadrupled the num­her if troops to over 3,000. This number tripled in 1962; and by October 1963

there were about 17,000 American "ad­visers" in South Vietnam. Many of them

accompanied their South Vietnamese "advisees" on combat missions, and they were authorized "to fire when fired upon."

In retrospect it is clear that at this stage of the involvement, Americans

were engaging in combat—killing and

being killed. But this was glossed over by public assurances that there had been

"no change in the quality of our support,

but only an increase in the quantity of it," and that American military person‑

nel were serving, and would continue to serve, in South Vietnam in a purely ad­visory and training capacity."

Furthermore, on October 2, 1963 Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara

and General Maxwell Taylor made the

reassuring announcement that "the ma­jor part of the U.S. military task can be

completed by the end of 1965, although

there may be a continuing requirement for a limited number of training person‑

nel." This was backed up by a statement that 300 American troops would leave Vietnam by December 3, while another 1,000 would depart before the end of the year.28

Despite these assurances, American involvement continued to increase, in

numbers, in intensity, and in overtness.

But by this time, the habituation had taken hold. As late as November 1964,

with more than 20,000 American ground

troops in South Vietnam and with total American casualties close to 2,000, the

American people still believed they were voting for a President who had kept us out of war.

A story in the Los Angeles Times in April 1965 described the satisfaction of American airmen that "the wraps have





9/at long last been taken off the Air Force." Previously, every American heli­copter pilot had to be accompanied by a South Vietnamese "even if the South Vietnamese was a mail clerk," so that in case the helicopter crashed or was shot down, it could be claimed that the Viet­namese mail clerk was the pilot and the American pilot was only an adviser. All this pretense could now finally be dis­carded, the report in the Los Angeles Times continued with obvious satisfac­tion.

It took 19 years of very gradual esca­lation for our involvement to reach the point where "the fight is now predomi­nantly an American war," as Walter Lippman points out. But it should be noted that in the past two years, since "the wraps have been off" and all pre­tense finally discarded, the escalation has been accelerated precipitously. By November 1965 there were more than 150,000 American soldiers in South Vietnam. In November 1966 there were 360,000 American fighting men on Viet­namese soil.

One might ask whether the gradual escalation was deliberately planned by government leaders as a subtle and effec­tive public relations technique, or was the haphazard result of historical factors outside the control of our government. Since both history and human motivation are never a matter of black-or-white, the question can be posed more meaningfully as follows: to what extent was the grad­ual habituation deliberately planned and predetermined, and to what extent did it just happen?

It is doubtful that anyone, including the leaders themselves, could answer these questions categorically. However, the weight of the historical evidence goes to show that the government of the

United States was determined, from the very beginning, to do everything it could to keep Ho Chi Minh and the Viet Minh from coming to power in Vietnam. For example, Chalmers W. Roberts, Chief of the National News Bureau of the IVitshington Post and Times-Herald, re­ported that on March 25, 1954 the Na­tional Security Council took a firm posi­tion that the United States could not afford the loss of Indochina to the Com­munists, and that if it were necessary to prevent the loss, the United States would intervene in the war. This decision was approved by President Eisenhower.22 On April 16, 1954 Vice President Nixon sent up a public trial-balloon in a speech before the American Society of News­paper Editors, in which he said:

If to avoid further Communist expansion in Asia and Indochina, we must take the risk now by putting our boys in, I think the Execu­tive has to take the politically unpopular decision and do it))

A few days previously, on April 3, 1954, Secretary of State John Foster Dulles and Admiral Arthur W. Radford, Chair­man of the JOint Chiefs of Staff, had urged upon a secret meeting of eight leaders of the Senate and the House the necessity of a joint resolution by Con­gress to permit President Eisenhower to use air and naval power in Indochina. Admiral Radford's plan was to relieve the French at Dienbienphu by striking at the Vietminh forces with hundreds of American planes from Navy carriers and from the Philippines. Roberts writes:

Some of those at the meeting came away with the feeling that if they had agreed that Satur­day to the resolution, planes would have been winging toward Dienbienphu without waiting for a vote of Congress—or without a word in advance to the American people. lEm, phasis mine. /.2.]

Secretary Dulles tried to interest some of





10

America's allies in his plans. "In these talks Dulles ran Into one rock of opposi‑

tion—Britain."            The reaction of an‑
other ally is described by Roscoe Drum­mond. and Gaston Coblentz in their book about Secretary of State John Foster Dulles, Duel at the Brink. They write;

The main         with whom he [John Foster

Du!lel negotiited in Paris, shortly before tt$c R;encval e-rderence and during its earls, lAeri.c. was (t•renchI Foreipn Minister Georgrs

As the collapse of Dienbicnphu approached. Dune, told ItidmIt that a battle lost was not a war lost. The disconraged liidault replied that ,(fr 'Kral de Gaulle had said the same thing in

hut that it was something one says in ih•• first year of a war, not in the eighth, as in Indochina.

Itidaidt's recollection of the talks, as recounted

these reporters, introduces into the Dulles' record a new element which, at present, re-rows solely on the French statesman's testi­Mony. /Ward/ understood Dulles, (V, ril.n Sep­1./rate OCCUSIOnS, to hare ofiered him the tae qrf American, atomic bombs by French forces err the Indochina war.

Ity Bidatin account both otters went made before the fall of Dienhienphu; Prior, that is, to the Geneva Conference. According to Bi­dault, both Wen went made to him personally by Dulles in Paris..

The first is recalled by Bidault as an offer of one or more atomic bombs to be dropped on Communist Chinese territory near the Indo­china border in a countermove against the Chinese supply lines to the Vietminh Com­munists.

The second is recalled as an offer of two atomic bombs against the Vietminh forces at Dienhienpho.

Ilidauh. by his account,. declined both offers. Ile told Dulles that it would be impossible to predict Where the use of nuclear weapons against Bed China would end, that if could lead to Russian intervention and a world-wick holocaust In the case of the seelmd offer, he considered the French and Vietminh forces to he be Ilan too closely engaged at Dicribienpho to .permit the use of atomic weapons.

heir is no doubt in Bidauh's mind that these offers were made to him by    mphasis
mine. /_474

These facts point to the conclusion

if

that the Administration would have plimeed the United States into the Indo­china war much more precipitousi_f if it could have. But it encountered two ob­stacles: Our Allies, especially Britain and France refused to go along. And Nixon's trial-balloon brought forth an imilanclie of negative letters and tele­grams to the President, and a great deal of nepative reaction in the press. The time was not ripe for total intervention. 1 he American people would have to undergo a prolonged process of habitua­tion before they would be ready for total intervention.

It is, of course, quite likely that, hav­ing embarked on a course of gradual escalation, the leaders themselves be­came conditioned and habituated—they became the victims of their own tech­niques. The strain toward consistency and elimination of cognitive dissonance described by Osgood, Festinger, and others applies not only to ordinary citi­zens but also to leaders. The leaders are constrained to find rationalizations which will justify their decisions to themselves, as well as to their followers. Former President Eisenhower recently exempli­fied one such technique in high places, a technique to justify the killing of civil­ians in underdeveloped nations. In a televised speech on September 18, 1966, he argued against "the fear of using a weapon [nuclear] that the free world might need in some outlying place where people or life seems to be cheap, and they want to have their way." 243

It is also probable that the original planners of our Southeast Asia strategy did not anticipate in 1950-54 either the duration or the extent of the ultimate in \ oftement. 1 hey grossly underesti­mated the determination, stamina, and dedication of the guerrillas. The per‑





11
/formance
of the Viet Minh against the French should have alerted our decision­maKers, but here another factor entered, which is operative to this day. The American leaders felt vastly superior both to the French and to their rag-tag 'uerrilla opponents. The leaders were the victims of the parochial tendency to feel that "one American is as good as any 10 foreigners," (especially if the for­eigners are non-white).

Since then, much habituation has taken place. In June 1954 a Gallup Poll . lowed that 72% of the American peo­ple opposed sending American troops to Indochina. By 1966, 60-70% were go­ing along with Administration policy. The process of habituation has been eminently successful. It has achieved a 180 degree shift in American public opinion in the space of 12 years.

The habituation has been reinforced by techniques of news management and manipulation of public opinion. The President's televised press conference of July 28, 1965 is a classic example. It furnishes an instructive case study of the i'sychological preparation and man­ipulation of the American public:

Several weeks before the press con­fert.....re took place, Secretary of Defense MLiqamara made a highly dramatized and thoroughly publicized "fact-finding" tour of South Vietnam. Newspaper dis­patches stressed the dangerous nature of this mission. The Viet tong, it was re­ported, spared no efforts to "get" Mc­Namara. On one occasion, a mine was discovered in the nick of time under a bridge that McNamara was to cross. (No one asked why such a dangerous mission was given so much advance publicity. Would it not have been safer for Mr. McNamara to slip into Vietnam incog­nito and with no fanfare?)

11

Upon his return from Vietnam to Washington, Secretary McNamara and his fact-finding mission continued to cap­ture the headlines. For several days, these front page stories in the news media reported that the President was closeted with Mr. McNamara and sev­eral top-level advisers in day-long, con­tinuous top-secret consultations. The purpose of these conferences was to de­termine, on the basis of Mr. McNamara's findings, the future course of the war. Strangely enough, at the end of each day's "secret" session information was "leaked" to the news media which indi­cated that there would be a very rapid increase in U.S. combat forces in Viet­nam, a marked rise in draft quotas, mobilization of the reserves, and a re­quest that the Congress make a supple­mental war appropriation of 12 billion dollars. With each day, as preparations were reported for a Presidential press conference, tension rose and public ap­prehension mounted that the country would be placed on a total war footing.

So well was the public prepared by the press "leaks" to expect the worst, that there was a general expression of relief when, on July 28, the President asked for "only" 1.7 billion dollars, a draft quota of "only" 35,000 by Novem­ber, an increase in troop strength to "only" 125,000, and greatest concession of all, did not call out the reserves. How­ever, the Walt Street Journal of August 4, 1965, reported that

. . . the President had announced one plan for public consumption, but was pushing, behind the scenes, for a much larger involve­ment in the war.

In connection with this concealed pro­gram, the Wall Street Journal continued, Secretary of Defense McNamara ap­peared before a closed session of the





12/

Senate Armed Services Committee to project a far mavier commitment of manpower and funds.

By January 20, 1966, the Los Angeles Times was reporting that the President "appeals to Congress to provide $12 bil­lion more to support expanded Vietnam action." (The precise figure mentioned in the press leaks of July 1965.) By February 12, 1966, the President was stating that the time may come when he will have to summon the reserves. Sev­eral months after that, a bill was passed giving the President authority to do so. And, of course, the number of combat troops rapidly rose above the 125,000 figure projected in the July 28 press conference.

It is clear, in retrospect, that the skill­fully stage-managed, televised press conference of July 28, 1965 marked a new phase of open, headlong escalation of the war—now that the "wraps were off." But an adverse public reaction to this new development was averted by skillful manipulation of information. The formula is simple, but effective: First step: highly alarming rumors about escalation are "leaked." Second step: the President officially and dramatically sets the anxieties to rest by announcing a much more moderate rate of escalation, and accompanies this announcement with assurances of the government's peaceful intentions. Third step: after the general sigh of relief, the originally ru­mored escalation is gradually put into effect, after all.

This technique of psychological back­ing and filling has two effects: (1) By the time the originally leaked figure of, say, $12 billion, is officially presented by the President in January 1966, the citi­zen has the comfortable feeling of famil­iarity with it, of being knowledgeable

Va

about it. Somewhere, sometime he has seen and heard this figure before, as in­deed he had—in July 1965. It has been robbed of its shock effect. The citizen has become habituated to it. (2) The succession of "leaks," denials of leaks, and denials of denials, thoroughly con­fuses the individual. He is left bewil­dered, helpless, apathetic.

The habituation is further reinforced by what is politely called "news manage­ment," but what some newsmen have referred to more frankly as the withhold­ing of information or the giving out of misinformation by the government. In February 1965, U.N. Secretary General U Thant bluntly stated that the Ameri­can people were not getting the true facts about the war in Vietnam, particularly about peace feelers from Hanoi." Aus­tralian correspondents in Vietnam have charged American military public rela­tions men with misrepresenting casualty figures in order to make them less stark for the American public." American newsmen have similarly complained about misleading news and misinforma­tion. In a front page news article headed "U.S. Command Less Than Candid in Reporting Vietnam Battle Action," Jack Foisie, Bureau Chief in Saigon for the Washington Post and the Los Angeles Times, writes:

Even in a minor defeat, or a minor error in contrast to the bigness of the war, spokesmen try to minimize the setback, distort the fact. They do their best to sweep the dirt under the tent.1t

Professor Thomas A. Bailey writes in the New York Times about President Johnson's "warping, sugar-coating or falsification of the news." 2

News management is not a new phe­nonemon. It is probably as old as politics itself. In the United States, as Professor



13/
Bailey puts it, "news management dates back to George Washington's Adminis­tration." 2 What is new, in our democ­racy, is the quantity, the degree of news management. What is new is the fact that high government officials openly admit it, and that the large majority of the American people have accepted it as one of the facts of life. William Touhy, the Los Angeles Times correspondent in Saigon, writes:

Sylvester [Assistant Secretary of Defense for Public Affairs Arthur Sylvester! has said he favors government news management, includ­ing tying to the press in times of crisis. On a trip to Vietnam, he declared the press ought to be the handmaiden of the government, as far as reporting the war went.15

And Newsweek quoted the official spokesman for the United States mission in Saigon as stating: "My directive says that our policy is one of minimum can­dor." 17

The open advocacy by governmental leaders of policies of "minimum candor" and lying to the people undermines "the right to know." The restrictions on his right to know the truth mesh neatly with the citizen's regressive wish to remain unknowing, and further facilitate his re­gression to the preadolescent phase of seeking security in the omniscience and omnipotence of the authority figures.

CONCLUSIONS

The techniques employed by govern­ment to reduce opposition to the war in Vietnam rely heavily on psychological habituation by gradual involvement. Each small new step in the escalation is presented as a logical, unavoidable re­sult of a commitment made by a previous small step. The result is acquiescence by the individual, with no feeling That his right to disagree is being suppressed. The acquiescence resulting from psy‑

chological habituation to the war could prepare the ground for eventual accep­tance of the use of nuclear weapons, if such use developed as a "logical" next step. Senator Richard B. Russell, Chair­man of the Senate Armed Services Com­mittee, has advocated using small nu­clear weapons in Vietnam, increasing the size of the nuclear bombs when neces­sary. This foreshadows a kind of nuclear escalation similar to the gradual escala­tion described above.

The gradual habituation, the "man­agement" of news and information, and the manipulation of public opinion pro­duce in the American people a sense of confusion. They undermine the average American's confidence in his own ability to think clearly and cope with important issues. They foster in the average Amer­ican a feeling of helplessness and passiv­ity. All this bodes ill for the democratic process: an ill-informed and misin­formed people may be unable to partici­pate intelligently in decision-making. It bodes ill for the prospects of human sur­vival: a habituated people may be unable to stop the drift toward a third, thermo­nuclear, world war. It bodes ill for the emotional health of the American peo­ple.

And all this is a matter of serious concern to behavioral scientists, as citi­zens and as specialists.

REFERENCES

I. ACHESON, D. 1950, Statement at Minis­terial Level Meeting in Paris. Department of State Bulletin. May 22: 821.

2. BATLEY, T. A. 1966. Johnson and Ken­nedy—the two thousand days. New York Times Magazine. November 6. 1966: 139.

3. DRUMMOND, R. AND G. CORLENTZ. 1960. Duel at the Brink—John Foster Dulles' Command of American Power. Double­day and Co., Garden City, New York: 121 122.



14/

4. rim NtiowrR, D. D. 1965. Mandate for Change. Signet Books, New York: 430.

5. last nutowrn, D. D. 1965. Op. cit.: 416.

6. EisiNtiowt R. D. D. 1965. Op. cit.: 427.

7. FEST INGER, L. 1957. A Theory of Cogni­tive Dissonance. Row, Peterson, New York.

8. FI.STINGI R, L. AND D. BRAT trr . 1962. Cognitive dissonance. hi Experimental Foundations of Clinical Psychology, A. J. Bachrach (Ed.). Basic Books, New York.

9. FESTINGUR, L. 1964. Conflict, Decision and Dissonance. Stanford Uni ve I sit), Press. Stanford, California.

10. GARDNI R, G. E. 1959. Psychiatric Prob­lents of Adolescence. In handbook of Psychiatry, Silvana Arieti (Ed.). Basic Books, New York. 1: 870-871.

11. OF.M.1ERIAN, M. E. (Ed.) 1965. Viet Nam-Ilistory, Documents, and Opinions on a Major World Crisis. Fawcett Publi­cations, New York: 78.

12. KASTENNITIER, R. W. 1963. Speech on floor of House of Representatives. New York Times. July 17. 1963.

13. Los Angeles limes. Nov. 16, 1965.

14. Los Angeles Times. Oct. 3, 1965.

15. Los Angeles Times, Aug. 11, 1966.

16. MASSERMAN, J. H. 1948. Psychological medicine and world affairs. In Modern

['rends in Psychological Medicine, Butter-%tuff' and Company, London.

17. No%ssveck. Aug. 2, 1965.

18. New You Times. May 18, 1966.

19. New York limes. Dec. 8 and 15, 1965. 20A/sooty', C. E., O. J. Sot-1, AND P. 11.

TANN! NUM'Al. 1957. 1 he Measurement of University of Illinois Press, Urbana. Illinois.

21. ()scoop. t'. E. 1960. Cognitive dynamics in the conduct of human affairs. Public Opinion Quarterly. 24(2): 341-365.

22. KORERES, C. M. 1954. The day we didn't go to war. The Reporter. Sept. 14, 1954.

23. RouinisoN, F. M., Atsin F. KEMP (Eds.). 1966. Report on the U.S. Senate Hear­ings-The Truth About Vietnam. Green­leaf Classics, San Diego, California: 268.

24.RoinNsoN, F. M., AND E. KEMP. 1966. Op. cit: 268.

25. ROBINSON-, F. M., AND E. KEMP. 1966. Op. ell: 265-266.

26. STONE, 1. F. 1966. Ike would use A. bombs. 1. F. Stone's Weekly. Sept. 1966: 4.

27. The Geneva Agreements (complete text). 1965. Viet Report. Aug.-Sept. 1965: '18.

28. U.S. News and World Report. July 25, 1966: 36.





15

PSYCHOLOGICAL HABITUATION TO

WAR

HON. GEORGE E. BROWN, JR.

OF CALIFORNIA

IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES
Wednesday, August 12, 1970

Mr. BROWN of California. Mr. Speaker, on July 17, 1970, I included in the RECORD a 1967 study written •by Dr. Isidore Ziferstein entitled "Psychological Habituation to War: A Sociopsychologi­cal Case Study," originally published in the American Journal of Orthopsychia­try.

Dr. Ziferstein has recently updated that study in a paper entitled "Epilogue-1970." I am inserting this psychological analysis of the factors leading to and maIntainTng American intervention in Vietnam at this point in the RECORD and recommend it highly to my colleagues:

EPILOGUE-1970

(By Isidore Ziferstein,

The techniques of psychological habitua­tion to the acceptance of war are being con­tinued by the Nixon Administration, as it prepares and implements new "Viet Nams" In Thailand, Cambodia, and Laos, even while claiming that its policy is to get out of Viet­nam and all of Indochina.

To illustrate this type of double-think: on July 27, 1969, a front-page article in the Los Angeles Times reported: "(Nixon) the Hawk of Yesteryeai, arrived in Manila Saturday on a Dove's wings. The man who, as vice-presi­dent, talked about sending American infan­try into Indochina as long ago as 1954, now proclaims Asia for the Asians and no more Vietnams."

Yet, two days later, in Bangkok, the same Nixon, shedding his Dove's wings. pledged to the King of Thailand and a world-wide tele­vision audience, that the United States would fight shoulder to shoulder with the govern­ment of Thailand, to defend it against in­ternal subversion or external aggression.

These exchanges took place against a back­ ground of a controversy between the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and the Ad­ministration, in which the Administration engaged in some fancy foot-work. On July 7, 1969. Senator J. William Fulbright had re­vealed the existence of a secret pact between the United States and Thailand which blue­printed how U.S. troops would be used if needed to help the Thal government "resist Communist aggression." At first the Penta­gon refused either to affirm or deny the exist­ence of such a pact. Later the Pentagon de­nied its existence. Still later, the Pentagon declared that what existed was not a pact. but "only a military contingency plan" (such as generals are wont to draw up on a rainy afternoon when they have nothing else to do.) However, the Pentagon refused to let the Senate Foreign Relations Committee see the plan or pact.

It then became known that the document (plan or pact?) had been signed by General Stilwell and by the Thai Minister of De­fenge. (It should be noted the contingency plans are not signed by leaders of foreign governments. They are drawn up secretly by military planners and held in reserve. This was obviously not "only" a contingency plan, but an international agreement signed by the representatives of two governments.)

Then on July 25, 1969, at the start of his Southeast Asian tour, Presiden Nixon entered the controversy. On July 26, 1969, the Los Angeles Times headlined: "President Denies Secret Pact for Thailand Defense."

On August 22, 1969, the newspapers re-parted that: "Secretary of Defenac Melvin R. Laird said he did not agree with the contro­versial U.S.-Thalland military contingency plan, adding that 'it does not have the ap­proval of this Administration.'" However, a day later, the newspapers revrted that "the State Department sought to dispel the idea that Laird's public disapproval of a military contingency agreement (sic) with Thailand constituted Official repudiation of the bi­lateral understanding." (Note how, for the first time, the term "military contingency plan" is changed to "military contingency agreement", *thus seemingly inadvertently blurring the distinction between a conting­ency plan and an International agreement and further habituating the public to ac‑



teptance of what-ever-it-is.) "Prat s' officer Robert J. McCloskey said the plan continues in existence, and while he agreed with Laird that it is on the shelf. he said also that It could he taken down at any time necessary." (Apparently without the advice or consent of the Senate.)

Finally Gil November 8. 1969, the press re­ported that "Secretary of Defense -Malvin R. Laird capitulated after nicritlui of pressure and supplied a copy of the controversial U.S. defense agreement with Thailand to the Senate Foreign Relations C 3mmi l tee. t3enator Fulbright, after reading the text. de,cribecl it. as 'a blue-print for a masLive U.S. In­volvement' in Thatland, adding that 'we're pretty heavily involved there already."' (And this involvement continues to es?alare as American planes, and ground-"advisers" are engaged in counter-guerilla activities in Thailand.)

Senator Stuart Symington has begun to reveal the results of his subcommittee's in­vestigation of several adinlnistratians' (in­cluding the Nixon administrItichsi escala­tion of a clandestine war in Laos. He states:

"As shown by the transcripts, finally re­leased six months after the hearings, the United States has been, and is, participating heavily in a secret war that has cost many American lives and billions of dollars, It is a war conducted far away from any Vietnain Interdiction effort along the Ho Chi Minh trails of southern. Laos.

From a modest 1962 role as a supplier of equipment to the government, of Prince Sou­vanna Phouma, the United States has now become involved in lighting on a broad scale. Under the veil of what was officially termed "armed reconnaissance," American fighter-bombers, as far back as 1964, began to attack Communist ground targets and troops—and therefore inevitably civilians—in northern Laos; and American air effort in- that area has grown continuously since that time.

This air support took quantum leaps dur­ing the Various bombing pauses over North Vietnam, reaching a peak after the 1968 ex­ecutive order to cease all raids over that country.

For over five years this secret American War has been going on in northern LaOs: but until recently, the only reports on United States activities in that distant livriti were from representatives of the press who went to the scene in efforts to ascertain the facts.

During the years 1964 to 1969, as the clandestine American role grew steadily, ex­ecutive branch discussions and presentations to Congress were extremely limited: in some eases they were actually misleading. (Em­phasis added—I.Z.)

The subcommittee finally heard testimony on all phases of Laos, including U.S. support of this war; but the American people are still being denied full information because of the continuing refusal of the executive branch to declassify portions of the transcript which we consider should be in the public domain,

Also of grave concern Is the fact that this secrecy permitted the Administration to esca­late heavily the fighting In that area while It was cleesea1ating, with much public fan­fare, the war in South Vietnam. As a result, the American people Were misled as to the overall role of the United States in Southeast Asia, whereas the enemy—fully aware of the stepped-up United States bombing—received quite a different impression with respect to the actual intentions of our government." (Los Angeles Times Opinion Section, Sunday, August 9, 1970.)

Now let us analyze briefly the anatomy of public-relations techniques employed in put­ting across the Cambodian venture. Here, too, as in the case of our original involvement in the Vietnam war. the involvement was at first seemingly indirect. Late in April, 1970, it became known that our South Vietnamese "allies" were invading, in force, the sanctu­aries of the Viet Cong and the North Viet­namese just inside Cambodia. It was an­nounced that no American combat troops were involved. The next step occurred on April 30, with the announcement by Presi­dent Nixon of a massive invasion of the sanc­tuaries by American troops. It was stressed that the purpose of the incursion was solely to destroy the sanctuaries, and that American troops would not venture deeper into Cam­bodia, nor would they fight to defend or support the Lon Nol government of Cam­bodia.

A few days later, this was modified to state that American forces would not penetrate Cambodia beyond a line 21.7 miles from the border. This was taken to apply not only to ground forces, but also to air and naval

17

forces. The President also pledged to pull all II S. troops and advisers out of Cambodia by June 30.

At his May S news conference President Nixon was asked whether the South Viet­namese subscribe to the American pullout deadline, and he answered: "No, they do not. I would expect that the South Vietnamese would come out at approximately the same time that we do, because when we come out, our logistical support and air support will also come out." (Emphasis added-1.Z.) How­ever, by May 24, Secretary of State Rogers was indicating to newsmen that South Viet­namese operations in Cambodia will have U.S. support, including air support, after Ameri­can troops pulled out. (Los Angeles Times, May 25, 1970.)

And by June 24, it was announced that U.S. war-planes struck deep into Cambodian territory to help the Lon Nol government troops break the month-long siege of Kam­pong Thom. This air-strike was 140 miles inside Cambodia, about 120 miles past the 21.7 limit set by President Nixon. At the same time, a Defense Department spokesman maintained that President Nixon and Secre­tary of Defense Laird had ruled out United States combat air support for South Viet­namese forces operating more than 21.7 miles inside Cambodia. (Los Angeles Times, June 24, 1970.)

Similar double-talk (or psychological back­ing and filling) was demonstrated when Her­bert Klein, the President's communications director, said that U.S. troops would be pulled out of Cambodia by June 30, but that they would return to Cambodia if neces­sary. A correspondent asked: "When might they return? Could they return July 1?" Mr. Klein replied, "Could bet"

In his July 1 "conversation" with three TV commentators, President Nixon stated un­equivocally: "All Americans are out [of Cam­bodia I" and "We have no plans to send any advisers into Cambodia." However, on the same day, a dispatch by Jack Folsie in the Los Angeles Times reported:

"But there is evidence that some American military men continue to participate in the Cambodian war. Some are In civilian clothes and most of them commute daily from Viet­nam bases and return before dark. They thus may technically fulfill the White House dec­laration that no American combatants other than aircraft crews remain involved in the Cambodian struggle."

And Foisie reports further: "Although Pentagon spokesmen have denied that U.S. ground crews are present to service these air craft I at the Phnom Penh airport I, there Is evidence to the contrary reported by cor­respondents on the scene."

A later report in LIFE (July 10. 1970) datelined Phnom Penh, states:

"The seed of U.S. involvement has taken and is burgeoning with all the apparatus of military, political and economic aid. . . . At the Phnom Penh airport six Westerners are loading an olive-green truck with a large olive-green container. They wear civilian clothes, but U.S. combat boots show beneath their trousers. Short haircuts and the nice moves of the man trying to hide his walkie-talkie indicate the imminent surfacing of more American presence in Cambodia. Fresh-sprayed paint shrouds every official marking but one on the truck door. It reads, 'For Official Use Only'. Embarrassed and close­mouthed, two of the party concede they are U.S. airmen. In Phnom Penh—way be­yond the 21.7 mile limit—to install 'navi­gational equipment'. . . The war Is set­tling in for a long stay."

A report by Arthur J. Donunen, corre­spondent of the L. A. Times, datelined Phnom Penh July 25. states that "the war in Cambodia takes on some of the aspects of the war in Vietnam in late 1964 and early 1065." Meanwhile, as more and more reports began to appear that American Phantom jets were flying close support for Cambodian• government troops, napalming, bombing, and strafing the anti-Lon Nol forces, Ameri­can military spokesmen resumed their psy­chological backing and filling. On August 4, a U.S. spokesman in Saigon, when asked about these reports, said, "We have no re­ports on that. The only missions we fly are interdiction missions." The L. A. Times com­ments, "He was referring to announced U.S. policy of confining American raids in Cam­bodia to attacks on enemy supply lines and bases." However, the very next day, the L. A. Times reported that "American offi­cials in Saigon confirmed that the U.S. Air Force is answering a Cambodian request for help by sending up to fifty fighter-bombers on daily raids in Cambodia." The paper added that "the President's stated policy of

18

limiting air missions to interdiction seemed to rule out direct air support for Cambodian forces, but was ambiguous enough to allow a wide latitude of interpretation by U.S. field commanders." Two days later, August 7, the L. A. Times reported that "Secretary of De­fense Melvin R. Laird denied that American war-planes are flying close support for Cam­bodian troops fighting North Vietnamese." The following day, August 8, the L. A. Times reported further on Laird's interpretation of "the Administration's flexible definition of Interdiction." The report states, "Laird, who makes a strong effort to pursue a policy of candor, convinced no-one with his exercise in semantics. . . When pressed to explain how bombing 300 yards in front of troops, under control of a forward air-controller in a light plane, could be called interdiction, Laird ventured somewhat lamely: 'It de­pends on what you refer to as interdiction.' " (Shades of Humpty-Dumpty's advising Alice that "When I use a word, It means Just what I choose it to mean. . . .")

The press-report continues, "In Saigon the U.S. command was more candid. Military of­ficials there, according to United Press Inter­national, said the decision was to provide air support, but to call it interdiction. That way, they said, they could comply with Mr. Nixon's directives."

Senator Mike Mansfield commented pro­phetically, "If this continues, it could mean that we will have a repetition of what hap­pened in Vietnam; namely, that first we will provide air-support, then send advisers, then deploy troops, and thus get into a full-fledged war."

As one reads these reports, he gets a feel­ing deyt-vu. The same news-management, the same manipulation and confusion of public opinion by double-talk and psychological backing and filling, that took place over the years in the Vietnam adventure, Is now being repeated in Cambodia. And there is grave danger that at some point Mr. Nixon and his military advisers will decide that Ameri­can public opinion is sufficiently confused, divided, polarized, and therefore helpless, to warrant an all-out massive effort to achieve a military victory.

There is reason to fear that, just as the Eisenhower administration made a firm de­cision, unbeknownst to the American people, as far back as March, 1954, that the United

States would intervene in the war in Indo­china, if that were considered necessary to prevent the loss of Indochina to the com­munists, so the Nixon administration may have decided to extend the war into Cam­bodia and Thailand, and to score a knock­out blow against "Communist subversion" in all of Southeast Asia, using nuclear weap­ons if necessary. While Nixon has officially withdrawn American ground forces from Cambodia, he is encouraging Thailand to in­tervene. A dispatch from Bangkok reports that "both Thai and U.S. officials here said last week that the U.S. appears to have a clear obligation to come to the aid of Thai­land if Bangkok's efforts to support the Lon Nol government provoke attack by North Vietnamese and Viet Gong forces. A high American official said he believed the United States would act under such circumstances." (L.A. Times, August 9, 1970.) (The Nixon administration seems to be committed to a policy of provoking the North Vietnamese and Viet Gong, and thus widening the war.)

The use of nuclear weapons by the U.S. Is a real, and fearsome, possibility. We have already used these weapons in one war. Statements over the years by various gov­ernment figures, including former President Eisenhower, show that we rely heavily on the nuclear weapons as our chief "persuader." And recent disclosures by Senator Stuart Symington are most disquieting. He reports that "the executive branch refuses to dis­close (even) to proper committees of the Senate, full details about the vast prolifera­tion of nuclear weapons that we have dis­tributed all over the globe." (Los Angeles Times Opinion Section, August 9, 1970.)

All these techniques and all these events continue to take their toll of the emotional health of the American people. It was this fact that moved the American Psychoanalytic Association, which had always carefully re­frained from taking any political position, to protest the extension of the war into Cam­bodia and to state:

"At a time when this country's leadership has stated a commitment to disengagement from Vietnam, we are suddenly and without warning confronted with an extension of military involvement. This has resulted in a dramatic increase in anxiety, turbulence and conflict, Involving crucial segments of our population."