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The Cold War on the Periphery, by Robert J. McMahon
WHEN JOHNSON was suddenly thrust into the Oval Office in November 1963, a daunting array of domestic and foreign policy issues competed for his attention. The direction of U.S. policy in the Indian subcontinent formed but one of those, and one that must have seemed far from urgent to a leader determined to concentrate his formidable energies on domestic affairs. Nonetheless, Lyndon Johnson could not long postpone a set of fundamental questions about the future American relationship with India and Pakistan, questions left unresolved at the time of his predecessor's assassination.
Kennedy's chief foreign policy advisers, all of whom were retained by a man who insisted on his determination to carry forward the Kennedy legacy, were unsure precisely where the new chief executive stood on matters pertaining to South Asia. Mindful of the then-vice-president's trip to India and Pakistan in May 1961, during which LBJ formed a highly favorable impression of Ayub and a much less positive impression of Nehru, Komer worried about the possibility that his new boss might be "more pro-Pak" than Kennedy. 1 Johnson, who greatly prized personal relationships, had developed an instant rapport with the Pakistani leader during that trip. When Ayub arrived in the United States several months later for official talks, he went so far as to host a lavish barbecue at his Texas ranch for the visitor along with personally guided tours of San Antonio, Austin, and the hill country of central Texas. By all accounts, the two men got along famously. According to one of his aides, the vice-president considered the vigorous Ayub "very much a man's man"--Johnson's ultimate compliment. "It is seldom that I have been so very much impressed by a man," LBJ wrote Ayub in September 1961, "and I think I enjoyed your visit to my ranch as much as anything that has happened to me this year." 2
Together with Assistant Secretary of State Talbot, Komer fretted that such sentiments might influence U.S. priorities in South Asia. He also worried that the Pakistanis would view Johnson as likely to be more sympathetic to their needs and thus might become "more intransigent than ever." An early presidential commitment to the much-discussed military assistance program for India, Komer advised Bundy, would send an invaluable signal of policy continuity both to the Indians and the Pakistanis. The NSC aide who had played such a prominent role in catalyzing the Kennedy administration's tilt toward India understandably wanted to see the Johnson administration move in the same direction. "Unless we get the new President signed on now while he is still carrying out the Kennedy policy," Komer wrote Bundy just one day after Kennedy's assassination, "we may lose a real opportunity." 3
Johnson's cautious instincts militated against any formal commitments on military aid levels for India or Pakistan before the completion of General Taylor's trip to the subcontinent, scheduled for December 1963. Nevertheless, he quickly disabused the Pakistanis of the notion that the new American administration might prove more tolerant of their opening toward the Chinese than had the past one. During his very first week in office, LBJ delivered that message personally to Pakistani Foreign Secretary Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who was in Washington for the Kennedy funeral. On November 25 the two exchanged pleasantries during a White House reception, but conducted no substantive business. That initial encounter, which followed the solemn state funeral for the slain American leader earlier that day, also had its awkward moments. Johnson asked Bhutto to convey his greetings to Ayub, who he described as "one of the ablest men" that he had ever met, and ruminated that Pakistan had been much on his mind that day as he watched Sardar, the stallion Ayub had given to Mrs. Kennedy, following behind the casket. Bhutto, after paying obeisance to Johnson's crowded schedule, requested an opportunity to deliver "a very important message" from the Pakistani president. The American-educated foreign minister, who had once run unsuccessfully for the student body presidency at the University of California, Berkeley, said the message had to be delivered orally and that he was willing to stay in Washington as long as necessary in order to deliver it. When his efforts to brush off the persistent Bhutto proved unavailing, an obviously preoccupied Johnson wearily agreed to arrange a private meeting. 4 That second session, held four days later, pivoted not on Ayub's "important" message but on the upcoming Zhou Enlai trip to Pakistan. Johnson, in characteristically forceful language, delivered a message of his own. He warned Bhutto that the Chinese premier's state visit, slated for February 1964, caused serious "public relations" problems for the United States. The president voiced concern that it would spark an adverse reaction from Congress and implied that this latest demonstration of Sino-Pakistani friendship might jeopardize congressional support for future U.S. economic and military aid to Pakistan.
LBJ told Bhutto that he was a friend of Pakistan and would continue to be one--"if Pakistan would let him." According to Talbot, who was present at the meeting, the Pakistani diplomat appeared "deeply upset and disturbed" by Johnson's blunt words. Bhutto tried to defend the Pakistani-Chinese relationship as a protective measure necessitated by America's strengthening of India, which he said was "driving Pakistan to the wall." But his American interlocutors remained unmoved by what they considered a weak rationalization for an indefensible affront to American interests. 5 As the Pakistani foreign minister left the Oval Office, Under Secretary Ball recalled, "he turned on me furiously" to complain about the "discourteous reception" he had received. 6 "Bhutto was asking for it," a White House aide remarked after the stormy session. 7
The Johnson-Bhutto colloquy points once more to the gaping chasm separating the worldviews of American and Pakistani leaders. As Bhutto so forthrightly acknowledged, Pakistan's overture toward China derived not from any ideological affinity for its communist neighbor. Instead, it represented diplomatic pragmatism of the highest order. Obsessed with the potential danger posed to their nation's security by a larger and more powerful India, Pakistani policymakers believed that an entente with China provided a greater degree of protection than their Western alliances alone could offer. Born of small-power insecurity conjoined with a deepening skepticism about the reliability of its principal ally, Pakistan's opening toward China serves as a classic case of geopolitical expediency overcoming ideological dissonance. 8
From Washington's perspective, however, the opening stood as an egregious provocation. It violated the bedrock assumptions undergirding all of America's Cold War alliances. Further, it conferred a degree of respectability on what American policymakers contemptuously regarded as an outlaw state. The Kennedy administration's military commitment to India, after all, was driven primarily by American concern about the threat China posed to the noncommunist nations of South and Southeast Asia. In the view of American national security planners, China had become a near-demonic force in world affairs; the Sino-Soviet split, they were convinced, had just emboldened Beijing's leaders, making them more, rather than less, aggressive, adventuristic, and unpredictable. 9
Ample evidence suggests that the American fear of China was grossly disproportionate to the actual threat it posed to the Asian status quo. As Pakistani officials repeatedly emphasized to their U.S. counterparts, China, for all of its revolutionary rhetoric, pursued a foreign policy that was essentially moderate, cautious, and inward-looking. Nonetheless, the American perception of China as an unremittingly belligerent state exerted a powerful influence on the overall foreign policy initiatives and commitments of the Kennedy-Johnson era. By the early 1960s, China had in many respects replaced the Soviet Union in the American pantheon of enemies. The post-Cuban missile crisis period, which had produced a mellowing in U.S.-Soviet relations, brought no respite to U.S.-Chinese tensions; rather, the American inclination to identify China as the principal threat to world stability became even more pronounced. Kennedy, Johnson, and their senior aides ranked the containment of China as one of the overriding objectives of U.S. foreign policy. Kennedy's fixation with India's importance to the United States flowed largely from his belief in the salience of India to that crucial goal. Pakistan's China gambit infuriated Johnson, as it had Kennedy, because it threatened to undermine that goal. 10
On December 9 Johnson reiterated his concerns in a friendly but firm letter to Ayub. LBJ remarked that he had appreciated the opportunity to meet with Bhutto because "I could talk to him frankly about some things which have been disturbing me for some time." Chief among them, he emphasized, were a series of recent Pakistani actions "which redound to the advantage of Communist China," especially the state visit planned for February 1964. "Regardless of Pakistan's motivations, which I understand but frankly cannot agree with," Johnson continued, "these actions undermine our efforts to uphold our common security interests in the face of an aggressive nation which has clearly and most explicitly announced its unswerving hostility to the Free World." He appealed to Ayub, in closing, to recognize that "Pakistan's interests are best served by doing everything possible to strengthen, not weaken, its ties with the Free World." 11
Komer, his initial fear that LBJ might treat the Pakistanis too gently erased by the Bhutto meeting and the Ayub letter, applauded the president's tough approach. Speculating that "Ayub isn't really serious about the Chicoms," and was simply "conducting a pressure campaign," Komer advised that the administration "stop pampering" the Pakistani leader. An "aloof" response to Pakistan's China ploy, in his view, would ultimately prove most effective. "If we're not so apologetic," Komer smugly predicted, "Ayub will step in and call a halt to this nonsense." 12
From his vantage point in Karachi, Ambassador Walter P. McConaughy looked at Pakistan's deepening ties to China with a more discerning eye. One of the government's most senior China specialists, McConaughy had joined the foreign service back in 1930. He had previously directed the State Department's Office of Chinese Affairs, served ambassadorial stints in Burma and Korea, and filled in briefly as Kennedy's assistant secretary of state for Far Eastern Affairs before assuming his present post. The veteran diplomat found confirmation in recent events, most especially the invitation to Zhou Enlai, for his earlier forecast that Pakistan was moving toward a partial disengagement from its Western alliances. What most troubled McConaughy was the proposal, currently being debated in Washington, that called for the provision of at least $50 million in military aid to India over each of the next five years. Given Pakistan's "almost psychotic fears of India," he was certain that such an agreement would produce a grave setback for the U.S. position there and "force [a] major reconsideration and reorientation of Pakistan foreign and military policies." The conclusion of a multi-year military assistance pact with India at this hazardous juncture, McConaughy cautioned the State Department, would be like "injecting [a] flame into [an] already combustible subcontinent situation." 13
Plainly the issue of how much military aid to provide India, and over how long a period of time, posed a series of vexing problems for the United States. Although sympathetic to the perspective of his counterpart in Karachi, Chester Bowles argued vociferously that the United States could not allow Pakistan's obsessions to divert it any longer from a "highly promising" opportunity "to achieve a breakthrough in Asia which is clearly in [the] interests of [the] United States." The Sino-Indian war afforded the United States a one-time chance to align India with the West, Bowles insisted, and to gain in the process a key ally in the struggle against Chinese expansion; further delay in reaching a decision would just leave a vacuum into which the Soviets would likely plunge. His recommendation: guarantee India $60-75 million in military assistance per annum over the next five years. 14 The State and Defense Departments for once found their thinking essentially in harmony with that of Bowles, although they envisioned a slightly more modest program of $50-60 million per year. Just before General Taylor's arrival in the subcontinent, the State Department authorized Bowles to inform Indian officials that Washington was currently preparing the details of a long-term military assistance pact. Fearing "a violent reaction" in Pakistan to the premature disclosure of U.S. plans, however, Rusk recommended against providing the Indians in advance with as explicit a commitment as Bowles desired. 15
The Taylor mission, which came at a critical juncture in the evolving, triangular relationship between the United States, India, and Pakistan, aimed at stabilizing the American position in the subcontinent. By dangling the carrot of long-term military assistance agreements in front of both Indian and Pakistani leaders, administration planners hoped that Taylor could check growing suspicions in both countries about American reliability. In New Delhi, Taylor sought to reassure the increasingly skeptical Indians by signaling American willingness to pursue the multi-year military aid pact that the two countries had been discussing ever since the traumatic events of October 1962. The chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff carried a similar carrot to Rawalpindi, but brought a thinly concealed stick as well. He sought to persuade Ayub and other Pakistani leaders that their fear of the Indian military threat was unwarranted; to inform them once again that the United States believed that China posed the real threat to the security of the subcontinent; to make clear that, regardless of Pakistani protests, Washington would continue to supply New Delhi with needed military assistance; and to remind Pakistani leaders that they must discharge their alliance responsibilities to SEATO and CENTO if they expected continued American aid. 16
During a frank, private meeting with Ayub, the American general expressed "deep regret" over the "downward trend" in U.S.-Pakistani relations over the past year. Why, Taylor implored, could the two nations not simply "accept the existence of an honest difference of view as to the rightness of US military aid to India, cease the recriminations which have been souring our relations and move forward together toward common objectives?" The new Sino-Pakistani relationship of course offered the most obvious answer to Taylor's plaintive plea, and it once again provided the main stumbling block to mutual understanding. Ayub said that he "loved President Johnson more than a brother" and wanted Taylor to assure the American leader that the upcoming Zhou visit signified nothing more than Pakistan's natural desire to normalize relations with a potential enemy. Echoing Johnson's earlier cautionary words to Bhutto, Taylor emphasized that the visit created "a domestic problem" for the United States that might negatively affect future congressional support for Pakistan. "Ayub will be seen in close company with [Zhou] on every TV in the world," Taylor chided, "to the detriment of US/Pak relations." 17
Upon his return to Washington, Taylor quickly sent Johnson his impressions of the visit along with a detailed set of recommendations concerning future military assistance commitments to the two countries. He expressed his essential agreement with Bowles's view that broader U.S. interests justified the development of a five-year military assistance program for India. Taylor counseled that the United States should be prepared to provide India with $50-60 million in military support per year provided the Indians agreed to: "(a) limit their force goals, (b) hold down procurement from the Soviet Bloc, (c) hold to a minimum diversion of foreign exchange from economic development, (d) exercise restraint in relations with Pakistan, and (e) cooperate with us in the containment of Communist China." In order to ensure the attainment of the first three conditions, Taylor urged that the Indians be encouraged to develop their own five-year military plan. Only after that plan had been completed would the United States formally offer the five-year assistance package he was recommending. Since such a plan could not be developed overnight, the general proposed an interim, one-year aid program of about $50 million, geared toward providing continued support for the Indian Army's mountain divisions, for improved logistical assistance to forces deployed along the Chinese border, and for enhanced radar and communications facilities together with additional air transport for the Indian Air Force. 18
With regard to Pakistan, Taylor recommended a parallel offer. Acknowledging the Pakistani bitterness amply in display during his difficult meetings with Ayub, he also detected a ray of hope. "In spite of his strong objections to US help to India," Taylor speculated, "I have the feeling that while he is swallowing hard, it is going down." By offering Pakistan a five-year military assistance deal "under essentially the same conditions as the Indians," the Johnson administration could at least partially ease Pakistan's fears while boosting its sagging confidence in the United States. Taylor added that the offer must of course be made contingent on Pakistan's fulfillment of its alliance obligations. 19
Over the next several weeks, the State and Defense Departments and the NSC staff informed Johnson that they fully concurred with Taylor's balanced recommendations. "His proposals make great sense," Komer told LBJ. He urged the president to adopt "the principle of parallelism between Indians and Paks" as a guide to all future U.S. military aid decisions in the subcontinent, a perspective also endorsed by Rusk and McNamara. 20
On February 8, 1964, Johnson approved the essence of the Taylor program. He authorized "exploratory approaches" to India and Pakistan, looking toward the possible negotiation of five-year military assistance programs. The president added some important caveats, however. "It seems to me premature," he informed Rusk and McNamara, "to indicate to India or Pakistan how much military aid they might be able to count upon, regardless of how tentatively we put it." Johnson preferred to hold off any discussion of specific aid figures until the two countries prepared "austere" military plans. Further, he insisted that "we should make clear to both countries what we expect of them in return for prospective long-term military aid." In the case of India, that meant that the practice of diverting dollars earned through developmental assistance to the defense budget needed to be sharply curtailed. In the case of Pakistan, it meant "satisfactory performance with respect to its alliance obligations." Johnson added pointedly that the initial approach to Pakistan should be delayed until after the administration had had sufficient time to assess the results of the Zhou visit. 21 Then, the State Department alerted McConaughy, the White House intended "to use [the] prospect of continued military assistance both as a carrot to demonstrate [the] value of [a] continued alliance relationship and as a lever to get from Pakistan the necessary assurances that it will limit its relationship with Peiping and pursue policies in general which will not be adverse to US interests." 22
The Zhou trip to Pakistan weighed heavily on the mind of a president who saw "Red China," as he invariably called it, as the chief threat to global stability. By early 1964, LBJ, Rusk, McNamara, Bundy, and other top national security planners were convinced that Southeast Asia provided China with an especially tempting opportunity to extend its influence southward. The rapidly disintegrating political and security position of America's South Vietnamese client state, which Johnson was sure Beijing would capitalize on, had already begun to overshadow and color the president's response to all other foreign policy matters. As he pondered the difficult choices posed by the Saigon regime's desperate plight, Johnson must have blanched at the distasteful images presented by Ayub's meetings with Zhou. Although the Pakistanis took pains not to offend their erstwhile ally by too lavish a treatment of their Chinese visitors, the mere fact of the meetings served as a powerfully dissonant symbol. An American ally was greeting with great amiability the senior representatives of a nation that, according to Johnson and his top national security strategists, was guilty of fomenting aggression in Vietnam. 23
On direct instructions from the White House, Assistant Secretary of State Talbot visited Pakistan in March 1964 to convey yet another frank, personal message from Johnson to Ayub. LBJ wanted the Pakistani ruler to know that his flirtation with China was rapidly approaching the limits of American tolerance. Coming on the heels of Pakistan's warm welcome for the Chinese premier, the Talbot visit, in the tart words of National Security Adviser McGeorge Bundy, allowed the administration "to begin a job of straightening out Ayub Khan, which will take a lot of time." 24 Since the records of the Ayub-Talbot talks remain classified, it is impossible to determine the precise nature of the warning Talbot delivered. Fragmentary evidence suggests, however, that the assistant secretary made it clear, either directly or implicitly, that future U.S. military aid decisions would henceforth be linked to Pakistan's international behavior, and linked most especially to the development of its ties with China. Given the broad consensus prevailing throughout Pakistani governing circles on the need for a closer connection with China, the Johnson administration's calculation that additional threats from Washington--whether subtle or crude--might help "straighten out" the Pakistanis seems extraordinarily ill-conceived and shortsighted. Indeed, even Talbot acknowledged that reality at the conclusion of his trip. "In view of [the] centrality of India" to Pakistani national security planning, he wired Rusk, Pakistan would likely continue to welcome such "alternative options to full dependence on [the] US" as a strengthened entente with China. 25
The Talbot trip, which also took the assistant secretary to India, came at a time when political and economic developments in the two countries were moving in very different directions. The political stability that had been the hallmark of the Nehru era was fast eroding in the wake of the prime minister's weakened physical condition. Nehru, who had not recovered fully from the stroke he suffered in January, was no longer the robust leader of the past, a man who had placed his personal stamp on virtually all aspects of Indian political life. Indian politicians recognized that the prime minister's days were numbered; they were already jockeying for advantage in what was shaping up as a divisive succession struggle. In addition to that budding political crisis, India was plagued by a renewed wave of communal violence throughout the country and an economy that continued to perform sluggishly. Ironically, Pakistan, a country beset by political instability and economic crises for more than a decade, now boasted a strong and popular leader in Ayub and showed signs of genuine economic progress. 26 Talbot said his trip to the subcontinent revealed "the sharpest contrast in years" in the "internal dynamics of India and Pakistan." He found in Pakistan a self-confidence and a "new-found buoyancy" that stood in stark contrast with the malaise so distressingly evident in India. 27
Bowles worried about the sense of drift that he observed in India. Disturbed as well by what he identified correctly as a growing skepticism among Indian policymakers about the United States, Bowles warned the White House and State Department that Moscow stood to gain the most from Washington's excessive caution on the all-important issue of military aid. The Indians were eager to accept a closer military and political association with the United States, he insisted, provided that Washington could offer them reasonable assurances that its military support would be adequate in scope and long-term in duration. In the absence of such assurances, however, the Indian military establishment was moving "with increasing vigor" to secure an alternative source of military equipment and supplies in the Soviet Union. The veteran India-watcher considered that development "totally contrary to US interests in Asia." Indians were now "indignant and resentful" toward the United States, largely because the multi-year military assistance offer that they expected to receive immediately after the Taylor visit appeared to have been held up by Pakistani opposition. 28
The American public heard that complaint firsthand from Indira Gandhi, Nehru's daughter and a political leader of national stature in her own right. During a visit to Washington in April 1964, she told a New York Times reporter that the United States was losing much goodwill in India because of its "favoritism toward Pakistan." Already being touted as a possible successor to her ailing father, the blunt Mrs. Gandhi declared that Indians "feel that the West is on Pakistan's side no matter what." 29 Johnson tried, without much evident success, to disabuse her of that notion during a meeting at the White House. His flippant retort that the Pakistanis were "far more unhappy about our policy toward India than India seemed to be about our policy toward Pakistan" likely did little to ease underlying strains. 30
Komer, playing his role of policy facilitator to the hilt, continued to urge upon Johnson the importance of a definite, long-term commitment to India. Like Bowles, he invariably framed that case in terms of American grand strategy. "As the Sino-Soviet split widens," the NSC aide wrote Johnson, "Moscow has been making up for lost time." The "Soviets are now doing more than we to woo the Indian military establishment" while Indo-American relations were "sliding backwards from the high point reached as a result of our vigorous response to the Chicom attack in October 1962." That unfavorable trend posed a serious threat, in his view, to American global interests. "India, as the largest and potentially most powerful non-Communist Asian nation, is in fact the major price for which we, the Soviets, and Chicoms are competing in Asia," Komer reminded the president. "With India heading into a succession crisis, we have to watch our step," he cautioned. "If India falls apart we are the losers. If India goes Communist, it will be a disaster comparable only to the loss of China." Given those risks, which were "not just Bowlesian hyperbole," he added pointedly, the Johnson administration could not allow its alliance with Pakistan "to stand in the way of a rational India policy"; Washington could not permit "the tail to wag the dog." 31
Johnson remained ambivalent about completing the South Asia policy reorientation that his NSC staff was advocating with such vigor. On one level, he accepted the logic of the Komer-Bundy argument that India's prospective alignment with the West offered strategic benefits to the United States that far outweighed any likely damage to the Pakistani-American alliance. Confident in his ability to handle an ally that remained dependent on the United States for military and economic support, Johnson probably agreed with Komer's breezy assessment that, as a result of administration pressure, the "Paks are coming around." 32 Still, the president had no desire to push the Pakistanis further into the Chinese embrace, nor did he want to jeopardize by his own actions American access to intelligence installations that senior defense and intelligence aides highly valued. His instinctive prudence when faced with complex diplomatic decisions of uncertain consequence--a trait displayed in abundance during the agonizing policy debates about Vietnam being held at the very same time--militated against bold policy shifts and multi-year aid commitments.
In addition, the cautious chief executive harbored an instinctual skepticism about the political viability of America's spiraling commitments in the subcontinent. As a man who had spent much of his adult life in the Congress and sensed its moods and concerns as well as anyone in Washington, Johnson fretted that a legislative revolt was brewing against the escalating costs of foreign aid. Sure to be targeted for pointed criticism were the administration's economic and military assistance programs for India and Pakistan, programs which absorbed nearly one-third of the entire foreign aid budget, brought little obvious return for America's sizable investment, and ofttimes worked at cross-purposes. Johnson worried that an administration guarantee to provide India with a specific level of aid over the next five years, in the absence of any significant movement toward an Indo-Pakistani rapprochement, might simply invite closer congressional scrutiny of American aid commitments in South Asia, precipitate a contentious public debate, and ultimately jeopardize future funding requests.
Unlike Kennedy, moreover, Johnson sympathized with many of the complaints leveled at the foreign aid program by angry critics on Capitol Hill. He, too, tended to view any major expenditures that did not bring political or diplomatic benefits as a foolish waste of resources. Probably the most intensely political of twentieth-century American presidents, LBJ approached international affairs much as he did the rough-and-tumble arena of domestic politics. And one of his basic political rules held that favors must always be repaid in kind; if not, the recipient should expect no additional assistance from the benefactor. The Third World for Johnson increasingly seemed less the towering ideological challenge it had been for Kennedy and more just a mundane and bothersome collection of "countries that want something from us." 33 That palpable shift in attitudes and priorities bore important implications for India and for Pakistan.
Indian Defense Minister Y. B. Chavan, who arrived in the United States late in May 1964 with the hope of negotiating a long-term military aid agreement, quickly discovered the limits that Johnson's skepticism had imposed on the evolving security relationship between the two nations. Having produced the five-year defense plan urged by the United States, Chavan almost certainly expected the Johnson administration to propose a multi-year military assistance pact. It was not forthcoming. Instead, the United States offered to provide India with $50 million in military aid for fiscal year 1965, but withheld any definite commitment beyond that period. Given the tenor of previous discussions, and the positive signals conveyed by Bowles over the past several months, the circumscribed nature of the U.S. offer just confirmed the suspicions prevalent in Indian governing circles about the diminishing credibility of American promises. The blow was partially but not sufficiently softened by an American commitment to provide India with a $10 million credit for the purchase of U.S. military equipment during the remaining portion of the current fiscal year and the promise of a $50 million credit for fiscal year 1965. The sudden death of Nehru on May 24 added drama and suspense to the Chavan visit. The defense minister rushed home upon hearing the news, just prior to a scheduled meeting with Johnson. Only on June 6, after Chavan's return to Washington, did the White House publicly announce the details of this new military commitment to India. 34
In a classic case of wishful thinking, Komer speculated that the Pakistani response to the announcement, although sure to be critical, would be limited "because we haven't given much yet." 35 He could not have been further from the mark. The Pakistani reaction was angry, emotional, and explosive, at both official and non-official levels. News of the Indo-American military assistance pact unleashed a floodtide of anti-American demonstrations throughout the country. The knowledge that the United States was deliberately delaying future military aid commitments to Pakistan as a crude form of punishment for its China policy fueled the intensity of those protests. Pakistan's leaders found the differential treatment meted out by its erstwhile ally in Washington to a formally nonaligned state especially galling. U.S. policy is "based on opportunism and is devoid of moral quality," Ayub snapped during a press interview; "now Americans do not hesitate to let down their friends." The Pakistani leader also registered a vigorous, formal protest, notifying Johnson in a letter of July 7 that Pakistan might now have to reappraise its commitments to SEATO and CENTO. 36
The quick-tempered Johnson was infuriated by the curt tone of Ayub's message and by the veiled threat that it contained. In a meeting with Ambassador Ghulam Ahmed, who personally delivered the letter to him, Johnson made no effort to hide his "considerable distress" with Ayub's unjustified complaints. Offering the standard defense of U.S. policy, he insisted that military aid to India served American--and Pakistani--interests by contributing to the containment of the communist threat to the subcontinent. It hardly offered proof that Washington was being "disloyal" to its Pakistani ally, as Ayub charged. The president turned the charge around. He implied that Pakistan, by dint of its relationship with China, was the real disloyal partner, especially in view of the grave threat that China currently posed to the noncommunist states of Southeast Asia. LBJ told the ambassador flatly that if Pakistan chose to reexamine its relationship with the United States, regrettable as it might be, the United States would have no choice but to reexamine its relationship with Pakistan. 37
The following week, a still fuming president met with Ambassador McConaughy. Johnson told his envoy, who had been urging the president to invite Ayub to Washington to clear the air, that there would be no invitation. The United States should take no action to placate the Pakistanis at this juncture, Johnson directed; he wanted a cooling-off period instead, during which U.S.-Pakistani relations would remain correct but aloof. LBJ instructed McConaughy, upon the latter's return to Karachi, to inform Ayub personally of his candid remarks to Ahmed, stress the "worrisome implications for the future" of the Pakistani-Chinese relationship, emphasize American concern with the threat of Chinese subversion and aggression in Southeast Asia, and impress upon Ayub the importance Washington attached to Pakistan joining the "free world effort in Viet Nam and at least show[ing the] flag there." 38 Mused the ever-candid and irreverent Komer: "Pak policies have now succeeded in alienating two Presidents; if the Paks aren't careful, they may kill the goose that lays the golden egg." 39
Born of frustration and anger, Johnson's confrontation with Ahmed and his blunt follow-up message to Ayub set the tone for U.S.-Pakistani relations over the next six months. It was a troubled and stormy period that witnessed a further acceleration of the trends first set in motion by the Chinese invasion of India in October 1962. Pakistan expanded its ties with many of the nonaligned states of Asia and Africa, making a special effort to warm up to Sukarno's Indonesia, continued to pursue actively a closer connection with China, and steadily deemphasized its commitments to SEATO and CENTO. For its part, the United States maintained a cordial but distant relationship with its recalcitrant ally. When the pro-American Finance Minister Mohammed Shoaib visited Washington in September 1964, Bundy reminded him that fundamental differences over China posed the greatest obstacle to a constructive dialogue between Washington and Karachi. 40 The deepening crisis in South Vietnam during this same period, which preoccupied Johnson and his senior aides, just exacerbated U.S.-Pakistani tensions. As the Johnson administration moved to shore up the embattled Saigon regime, many of its leading analysts saw Beijing, more than either Hanoi or the Viet Cong guerrillas, as America's real foe in Southeast Asia. China's detonation of its first atomic device in October 1964 raised the specter of aggressive intentions being joined by alarming new capabilities--a dangerously combustible mix. In that explosive context, the Beijing-Karachi axis posed more than just a public relations embarrassment for Washington; it represented a repudiation of the core values and interests of American foreign policy. With the righteous arrogance of decision makers convinced that their view of world affairs could brook no responsible dissent, Johnson and his senior advisers condemned what they considered the reckless and irresponsible behavior of a once loyal ally.
Although the United States and Pakistan appeared to be moving inexorably toward an ever more open clash as 1964 drew to a close, the bonds forged a decade earlier continued to yield significant benefits to both sides. Those served as a brake on any precipitous action by either nation aimed at severing the alliance altogether. Pakistan still required U.S. aid for critical development and defense priorities; and the United States still valued the intelligence-collection facilities that Pakistan permitted it to operate. "The Pakistani President knows that the strongest card he holds is the US communications facilities at Peshawar," the CIA speculated in an adroit analysis. "He almost certainly calculates that closing the facilities would bring a drastic reduction in the US military and economic assistance on which Pakistan is so heavily dependent and for which there is no alternative in sight." 41
In order to reopen the stalled dialogue with Pakistan, in January 1965 Johnson approved a State Department recommendation that he invite Ayub to visit Washington that April. Johnson envisioned the meeting as an opportunity to persuade the Pakistani leader that, despite the chill that had beset Pakistani-American relations since July, a "basis for close and mutually beneficial ties" between the two countries continued to exist. He also intended to discuss frankly with Ayub the alarming gap that separated U.S. and Pakistani assessments of Chinese actions and intentions. 42 The State Department held relatively modest hopes for the visit. In a scope paper for the White House, approved by Rusk, it recommended that LBJ seek "to halt the drift in our relations with Pakistan." He should make it clear that Pakistan's relationship with China could not "exceed the speed limits" imposed by the United States if it desired continued ties with Washington. "President Ayub should go away," the department offered, "with a clear appreciation of the relationship of our aid levels to a tolerable, if somewhat watered-down, alliance relationship." 43
Had the scheduled meetings with Ayub proceeded as planned, it is doubtful that the Johnson administration could have achieved even those limited goals. Flushed with his personal triumph in the national elections of March 1965, which demonstrated overwhelming domestic support for Ayub and his new foreign policy direction, the Pakistani president could hardly have been expected to approach American officials in a compromising mood. His decision to reduce Pakistan's ties with the West to their bare essentials while simultaneously courting favor with Beijing and many of the nonaligned states of the Afro-Asian world not only enjoyed wide popular acclaim at home but comported with the diplomatic strategy advocated by most influential Pakistanis inside and outside the government. That strategy had, moreover, achieved a degree of success that even CIA analysts grudgingly recognized. Six months of diplomatic coolness from Washington had consequently done nothing to shake Ayub's conviction that both vital national security considerations and domestic political imperatives validated the wisdom of the new international course he was charting. 44
Just nine days before the Pakistani leader's arrival in Washington, to the shock and dismay and some of his own advisers, Johnson abruptly withdrew his invitation. The recent state visits by Ayub to Moscow and Beijing, especially the latter trip, lay behind the president's precipitous action. Much to Johnson's discomfiture, Ayub had greeted Mao, Zhou, and their compatriots with open arms. He had pledged "lasting friendship and fruitful cooperation" between Pakistan and China, openly criticized the escalation of the American commitment in Vietnam, and, according to a State Department intelligence assessment, even adopted "Afro-Asian jargon" in his speeches. 45 That "disturbing" behavior irritated and angered the thin-skinned Johnson. On April 6 he told his senior aides that Ayub's arrival in Washington would just focus attention on the Pakistani's unfortunate behavior and unfriendly statements in the two communist capitals, thus jeopardizing congressional action on the administration's foreign aid bill. In addition, Ayub would almost certainly feel compelled to make statements regarding Vietnam that would spark additional controversy with Congress and with the media. 46
In an explanatory letter to the surprised Ayub, Johnson pulled few punches. After the obligatory professions of goodwill, the president came right to the point. He said that his long years of experience with Congress led him "to the conclusion that your visit at this time would focus public attention on the differences between Pakistani and United States policy toward Communist China." Such an airing of differences, at the very moment that Congress was deliberating about the administration's foreign aid budget proposals, might "gravely affect" continued legislative support for Pakistan's development and defense efforts. "I cannot overstate the full depth of American feeling about Communist China," Johnson wrote. "The mounting number of American casualties in South Vietnam is having a profound effect upon American opinion. This is being felt in Congress just at the time when our foreign aid legislation is at the most sensitive point in the legislative cycle." Under the circumstances, Johnson concluded, a postponement of the visit until the fall, when it would likely generate less heat, appeared the wisest course of action. 47
In order to maintain a rough parallelism in U.S. treatment of India and Pakistan, Johnson at the very same time postponed the first scheduled visit to the United States of the new Indian prime minister, Lal Bahadur Shastri. Ayub, not Shastri, was the prime target of Johnson's blunt signal. Nonetheless, the two visits were closely linked in American planning, and Johnson's advisers convinced him that a decision to postpone Ayub's trip and not Shastri's would have stood as an unforgivable affront in Pakistani eyes. The moderate Congress Party politician who had replaced Nehru the previous year had, in the judgment of ranking administration officials, done nothing even mildly comparable to Ayub's galling actions. True, Washington had its differences with the Shastri government. The new Indian leader's intransigence on Kashmir rankled American observers, some of whom had forecast hopefully that a change at the top might produce a more conciliatory Indian policy. Likewise, Shastri's insistence on continuing Nehru's foreign policy of nonalignment and his eagerness to accept military supplies from Moscow angered and frustrated U.S. planners; their dream of an American-armed India adopting an openly pro-Western orientation increasingly seemed a mirage. The Indian prime minister's lukewarm support for the American effort in Vietnam did little to soothe American misgivings about India's reliability. In spite of those continuing differences, however, the Indo-American relationship rested on a much sounder foundation than the Pakistani-American connection. A common fear of China had forged a strong sense of shared interests between India and the United States, much as a profound cleavage over China policy had pulled Pakistan and the United States apart. 48
Consequently, American officials had from the beginning seen the Shastri visit, originally scheduled for June, in a far more positive light than the Ayub visit. They viewed it primarily as an opportunity for the new Indian leader to establish a personal rapport with Johnson and for the American president to extend to Shastri firm reassurances about U.S. support. Those hopes, however, quickly dissipated in the wake of Johnson's decision to postpone the two scheduled visits. 49
Both Ayub and Shastri expressed indignation at the abrupt cancellation of their invitations. The latter was especially angry and resentful; he complained to Bowles that the American announcement had unfairly linked the postponement of his planned visit with that of a man whose recent statements in Beijing had offended the Indians fully as much as they had offended the Americans. Komer, who closely monitored the velocity of "the inevitable furor" in India and Pakistan over the cancellations, recognized that the administration's decision had deeply embarrassed the Indians by bracketing them with "the misbehaving Paks." He confessed that he had "honestly underestimated the Indian sense of bewilderment and hurt." 50 The Economist observed with sardonic accuracy that the United States had managed to achieve "the unusual diplomatic feat of giving offence to both [India and Pakistan] simultaneously." 51 Komer admitted that the United States would probably suffer "short term lumps" as a result of Johnson's brusque decision. Inveterate optimist that he was, the NSC aide also identified a string of possible benefits likely to flow from the double postponement as well: "(a) it reminds our friends that we too have feelings--especially about Vietnam; (b) Ayub got the signal, though we may need to remind him; and (c) the Indians too will end up a bit worried." Both countries, he said, now would be forced to "reflect on the moral that Uncle Sam should not just be regarded as a cornucopia of goodies, regardless of what they do or say." 52
Once again, however, Komer seriously underestimated the impact of American heavy-handedness on the two countries--and on Indo-Pakistani relations. Johnson's announcement proved especially ill-timed in the latter regard since at the very moment of his notification to Ayub and Shastri large-scale clashes between Indian and Pakistani troops were taking place. The clashes occurred in a desolate area abutting the Arabian Sea called the Rann of Kutch. India and Pakistan maintained overlapping border claims there, the symbolic significance of which far outweighed any material or strategic value either side attached to the land in question. The use by Pakistani troops of U.S.-supplied weapons raised awkward political questions for the United States. The fighting "has propelled us once more into the center of a subcontinental dispute," a State Department analysis noted, "at a moment when our leverage in both countries is at a low point." Pakistan, it speculated, may have precipitated the conflict in the hope that its use of U.S. military equipment would drive a wedge between India and the United States. 53 If that was the Pakistani intention, the ploy proved quite effective. Almost immediately, India lodged a vehement protest with the United States, reminding Washington of its repeated assurances that it would not allow Pakistan to use U.S. military equipment against India. Bowles urgently cabled the State Department that its response to this troubling affair would have a far-reaching effect on U.S.-Indian relations. 54
Under the circumstances, the Johnson administration believed it had no choice but to inform Pakistan and India that it was prohibiting the use of any U.S. military materiel in the Rann. Pakistanis deeply resented this edict, castigating it as yet another American capitulation to India. They considered the U.S. decision to prohibit the use by either side of its military equipment to be grossly unfair since virtually all of Pakistan's equipment came from the United States whereas India acquired military hardware from a variety of sources. Foreign Minister Bhutto warned that the U.S. decision would have profoundly negative repercussions on Pakistani-American relations. 55
The Rann of Kutch incident, although militarily insignificant, did have important diplomatic consequences. In its aftermath, confidence in the United States plummeted in both Rawalpindi and New Delhi--simultaneously. Shastri and his chief advisers, already stung by Johnson's disinvitation, felt betrayed by Pakistan's use of American equipment. America's repeated promises to them that it would deter Pakistani aggression now appeared empty. For their part, Pakistani leaders had their gravest suspicions confirmed by the U.S. response to the Rann of Kutch fighting; they were now convinced that previous U.S. pledges about restraining Indian aggression were meaningless. Its standing with the two parties was now so low that the United States lacked sufficient leverage to play even a minor mediatory role. Accordingly, it deferred to Great Britain, which managed to negotiate a cease-fire agreement that Ayub and Shastri signed in London on June 30. The Johnson administration could do little but applaud the British effort from the sidelines. 56
Another leader might have sought to rebuild bridges at such an incendiary juncture. Not Lyndon Johnson. Convinced that any conciliatory moves could be read as a sign of weakness, Johnson opted instead to intensify American pressure on both Pakistan and India. Late in April, while the skirmishes in the Rann were still raging, he directed that all pending aid decisions regarding the two countries first be cleared with the White House. "The President's reluctance to move forward on India and Pakistan matters," Komer explained, "stems from his own deep instinct that we are not getting enough for our massive investment in either." 57 Indeed, on June 8 Johnson made those feelings absolutely clear in a terse, handwritten note to Bundy. "I'm not for allocating or appropriating $1 now [for India or Pakistan]," he ordered, "unless I have already signed and agreed--if I have show me when and where." 58 Sensing a stagnation in the American approach toward the subcontinent, the results-oriented Johnson began to assume an unusual degree of personal control over the policy process. On June 9, during a meeting with Rusk, McNamara, and Agency for International Development (AID) administrator David E. Bell, he demanded a fundamental rethinking of American strategy and tactics in South Asia. Following the session, LBJ issued a blunt directive to the bureaucracy, ordering that "there be no additional decisions, authorizations, or announcements on loans to India or Pakistan without his approval, pending passage of the FY 1966 foreign aid appropriation." Additionally, he requested State and AID to conduct a full-scale review of all U.S. economic aid programs to India and Pakistan in order to determine "(a) whether the US should be spending such large sums in either country; and (b) how to achieve more leverage for our money, in terms both of more effective self-help and of our political purposes." 59
The impact of this tough new stance not accidentally hit Pakistan the hardest. The economic pressure that the aid slowdown placed on India, with the important exception of PL 480 food shipments, was not immediate. The India aid consortium had already held its annual pledging session, with the United States agreeing to maintain a level of economic support for India in fiscal year 1966 comparable to its commitment of the previous year. The Pakistan aid consortium had yet to meet. "To keep up the pressure" on Pakistan, Johnson postponed that annual pledging session, originally scheduled to convene on July 27, for two months. 60 The decision, he hoped, would deliver an unmistakable warning to the Pakistanis. According to a subsequent assessment by the NSC: "The postponement was designed to show Ayub that American aid was far from automatic, and to be a forceful reminder that his relations with China and other US-Pakistani difficulties could endanger his nation's economy." 61 In adopting this bruising tactic, Johnson was closely following a script written by his favorite South Asia expert. "We may lose Pakistan," Komer had advised him, "unless we can convince Ayub that he can't have his cake and eat it too. Pakistan's still desperate need for US aid gives us real leverage." 62
Although it was couched in the usual diplomatic niceties, the consortium postponement aroused passionate resentments in Pakistan. McConaughy reported that "Ayub took the news quite hard--worse than I had anticipated." 63 Komer agreed. With a hint of smugness, he informed Johnson that the consortium decision "was quite a shock to Ayub." 64 The Pakistani president publicly vented his anger with the United States. Speaking before a meeting of the Muslim League on July 14, Ayub declared that he had sought during his recent foreign travels to find "new friends, not new masters." He complained that Pakistan had tried on numerous occasions to explain its policy to the United States but to no avail. The Americans, he charged, were "power drunk"; they did not listen to smaller countries. Massive anti-American rallies were staged in all major Pakistani cities following Ayub's inflammatory speech. 65
According to an understated assessment by the State Department's intelligence bureau: "Pakistan apparently considers the postponement of the Consortium pledging session as a major crisis in US-Pakistani relations, and Ayub has probably come to believe that the US intends to use economic aid as a lever to force modifications of Pakistan foreign policy." 66 In fact, Pakistani disillusionment with the United States went far deeper than American analysts recognized. LBJ had deliberately driven Ayub into a corner in the vain hope that increased pressure would bring him around to the American point of view. But Johnson's heavy-handed tactics failed to produce the desired effect. Tensions between the two nations just continued to escalate throughout the summer of 1965, making it difficult for the United States even to keep open its channels of communication with Pakistan. 67
At this dangerous juncture, with U.S.-Pakistani misunderstanding at an all-time high, American policymakers were suddenly faced with the most serious threat to the peace of the subcontinent since 1948. The crisis built slowly throughout August 1965, following Ayub's decision early that month to infiltrate Pakistani irregular forces into Indian-occupied Kashmir. Most likely, Ayub sought to undermine the efforts of the Shastri government to integrate the portions of Kashmir that it occupied more fully into the Indian state. He probably calculated that by bringing the Kashmir problem to a head once more Pakistan could at least force India back to the bargaining table. Whatever Ayub's precise motivations, his high-stakes game soon backfired. India moved quickly to block Pakistani infiltration routes, leaving Ayub little choice but to up the ante by sending in regular army forces. On September 1 Pakistani armed forces invaded the extreme southern portion of Kashmir in the Chhamb sector. The drive, which featured the use of U.S.-supplied Patton tanks, aimed at severing the thin communications links between Indian-held Kashmir and India proper. UN Secretary-General U Thant that same day issued an urgent appeal for a cease-fire and for the withdrawal of all armed personnel behind the previous cease-fire line established by the UN. At Johnson's directive, Arthur Goldberg, the U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, immediately endorsed the secretary-general's appeal. 68
The sudden outbreak of hostilities posed a series of potentially grave threats to American interests in South Asia--and beyond. When Bowles wired Johnson and Rusk on September 2 with the warning that "we are face to face with the prospect of disaster in the subcontinent," that dire admonition reflected more than just the ambassador's trademark hyperbole. 69 For once, Rusk, McNamara, Bundy, Komer, Talbot, and other senior officials shared Bowles's fears. From the very inception of the conflict they worried that the use of U.S. military supplies by either or both sides would thrust Washington unavoidably into an embarrassing, center-stage position. India's early protests against Pakistan's use of American-supplied tanks and aircraft drove that point home forcefully. Even more ominously, American analysts feared that China might directly or indirectly offer Pakistan military support, thereby transforming a regional conflict into another theater of Cold War confrontation. The presence of Chinese Foreign Minister Chen Yi in Pakistan in early September, coupled with China's public condemnation of Indian aggression in Kashmir, accentuated those concerns. On September 2 Johnson decided that direct pressure on the two combatants would likely just further provoke their indignation with the United States. "It will be very hard to go beyond even-handed `grave concern,' " fretted Komer, "without goring someone's ox." 70 The president consequently directed that the United States place primary reliance on UN peace efforts. 71
On September 6 the conflict entered a new and more dangerous phase as four Indian divisions thrust across the international boundary in the Punjab, driving toward Lahore. Ayub immediately called in McConaughy to inform him of the Indian violation of Pakistan's territorial integrity. He presented the American ambassador with an aide-mémoire that called upon Washington to uphold the 1959 agreement between the United States and Pakistan and act immediately to "suppress and vacate" the Indian aggression. 72
With the conflict rapidly escalating, Johnson and his top advisers realized that they could not long postpone a decision on U.S. arms shipments to the two warring countries. Former Vice-President Nixon, Republican Congressman Gerald R. Ford of Michigan, and Democratic Senator Frank Church of Idaho were among the most prominent politicians who called upon Johnson to terminate immediately all U.S. assistance to both India and Pakistan. "The situation as it stands today has made us look ridiculous in the eyes of the entire world," charged Florida Congressman James A. Haley. "The blunt truth is that the hundreds of millions of dollars we have given these countries has equipped them to mount war against each other." 73 Sensitive to those criticisms, Komer argued that the United States needed to halt deliveries of military equipment to India and Pakistan "on the simple ground that in the light of the UN appeals we cannot be in the position of adding fuel to the flames." 74 Furthermore, given mounting congressional anger with the counterproductive behavior of two of the world's leading recipients of U.S. aid, Komer and Bundy reasoned that an aid cutoff was necessary to save the administration's beleaguered foreign aid bill. "It will certainly be highly resented in both India and Pakistan," Komer acknowledged, "and risks pushing both even further off the deep end. On the other hand, it may well help bring home to both the consequences of their folly." 75
On September 8 the administration publicly announced its decision. Rusk at the same time instructed Ambassadors Bowles and McConaughy to explain to Shastri and Ayub respectively that the U.S. decision to halt arms shipments was intended neither as a "punishment" nor as a "threat." Rather, "it is simply what US opinion requires in situation of de facto war where US cannot be in position on one hand of supporting UN appeal for ceasefire and on other hand of providing equipment that might be used in further conflict." The administration, moreover, faced "a volcanic reaction in Congress to events in the subcontinent" that made this decision unavoidable. 76 Indeed, on September 8, just hours after LBJ announced his arms embargo, sixty-two Democrats joined eighty-one Republicans in voting unsuccessfully to ban all aid to India and Pakistan. 77
In a memorandum to Johnson of September 9, Rusk adroitly spelled out the "complex and far-reaching consequences" that a continued war in the subcontinent posed to American regional and global interests. The possibility that the Chinese might intervene on Pakistan's side--a possibility hinted at in a threatening ultimatum that Beijing had just sent to New Delhi--was especially troubling. If Pakistan decided to play its China card, Rusk warned, the Indo-Pakistani war could be converted "into a Free World-Communist confrontation." Even if China stayed out of the fighting, however, the conflict could still adversely affect "the whole Western power position in Asia." Rusk pointed out that the United States had invested nearly $12 billion since partition in an effort to keep India and Pakistan in the "Free World." Were "collapse and communal chaos" in the subcontinent to result from the current fighting, the United States "would face a new situation in many ways as serious as the loss of China." Its effects, moreover, "would be directly felt all along the Asian rim." Iran and Turkey might conclude that Washington had let down Ayub and begin to question their own faith in American commitments. "Latent Japanese neutralist tendencies could bloom disturbingly in the wake of a major humiliation of India and of what would be seen as a Chinese Communist victory over the U.S." Beijing's involvement in the Indo-Pakistani war, furthermore, would make Pakistan more dependent on its Chinese ally "while India, feeling let down by the West and its national prestige at stake, would almost certainly go for the nuclear bomb." Given those potentially catastrophic consequences, Rusk said that the United States could not long afford to remain uninvolved. He urged Johnson to press both sides to accept the UN's cease-fire resolution by offering assistance with the negotiation of all outstanding Indo-Pakistani disputes, including Kashmir. "Our involvement," he added hopefully, "would also improve the chances of keeping both India and Pakistan reasonably linked to the West and reasonably firm against Chinese Communist encroachment into the subcontinent." 78
The NSC staff, which played a much more central role than the State Department in shaping the administration's response to this crisis, essentially concurred with Rusk's assessment of the multiple threats that the Indo-Pakistani conflict posed to U.S. interests. It parted company with the secretary of state, however, on the viability of his proposal for a more direct U.S. effort to bring the hostilities to a close. Komer, Bundy, and their associates recognized that Washington retained minimal leverage with either India or Pakistan. They saw little value, furthermore, in making either side's acceptance of a cease-fire contingent on American promises to help mediate the Kashmir dispute; another trip down that well-worn path, they calculated, would almost certainly prove fruitless; Johnson agreed. He directed instead that the United States support U Thant's efforts to gain a cease-fire and insisted that it avoid assiduously all Indian and Pakistani entreaties for a more direct U.S. involvement. 79
A Chinese ultimatum of September 17 caught the Johnson administration off guard and forced it to reevaluate the efficacy of that strategy. Beijing demanded that India dismantle a string of military structures along the Sikkim-Tibet border within the next forty-eight hours. Uncertain if the Chinese note represented a genuine threat or mere bluster, administration decision makers believed they had no choice but to plan for the worst. The ominous tone of the Chinese ultimatum alarmed U.S. analysts; they feared that it could very well serve as both prelude to and pretext for active Chinese intervention. The Johnson administration, already seeking to contain the communist threat to Asia with a rapidly expanding contingent of American ground forces in Vietnam, viewed the possibility of a Chinese military thrust into South Asia with extreme wariness. Chinese intervention in the Indo-Pakistani war could pose a challenge of global dimensions to American interests and to American credibility. 80
Johnson, in response to this frightening new twist, directed American policy along several parallel tracks. First, he ordered the Defense and State Departments to prepare military contingency plans for his review. Those plans presumably were to focus on U.S. military options in the event that a Chinese attack occurred and Indian security became endangered. Second, he pledged continued diplomatic support for U Thant's efforts to bring about a cease-fire. Those efforts culminated on September 20 with a Security Council resolution that called upon the two parties to halt all military operations by September 22 and to begin withdrawing their forces to the positions occupied before the current fighting began. Third, LBJ sought to use whatever influence the United States still retained with New Delhi and Rawalpindi to gain their compliance with the UN resolution. Prompt Indian and Pakistani acceptance of the Security Council directive would, in the view of American experts, serve U.S. interests by obviating the rationale for Chinese involvement. 81
Firm Pakistani resistance frustrated the American strategy. Although India, flushed with success on the battlefield, readily agreed to accept a cease-fire, Pakistan initially rebuffed the UN resolution. A Chinese decision to postpone the deadline they had arbitrarily imposed on India until midnight, September 22, only partially eased the sense of impending crisis. The Johnson administration feared that Pakistan's defiance of the UN order might yet encourage Chinese intervention. Consequently, upon urgent instructions from Washington, McConaughy forcefully lectured Ayub about the risks he was running. The American ambassador warned Ayub that Pakistan now faced a critical choice: if it should directly or indirectly encourage Chinese entry into the conflict, Pakistan would alienate itself from the West, perhaps permanently. This was not a threat, McConaughy stressed, but a reality. 82
After an awkward period of wavering, punctuated by additional U.S. pressure, Ayub on September 22 reluctantly acceded to the UN's cease-fire proposal. Given the difficult military prospects that Pakistani forces faced, Ayub almost certainly reasoned that the cease-fire represented the best Pakistan could expect under the circumstances. At least it avoided a complete break with the West which would have only served to heighten Pakistan's isolation and its dependence on an external patron--in that case, ironically, China. Nonetheless, that calculation of realpolitik did not diminish Pakistani fury with the United States. Indeed, Pakistan's leaders and its masses were swept by an unprecedented tide of anti-Americanism. During a "stiff" meeting with the American ambassador on September 29, Ayub sharply upbraided the United States for its revocation of solemn pledges regarding defense support; decried the lack of cooperation by the United States and the lack of appreciation for Pakistani efforts to moderate Chinese policy toward Vietnam; and accused the United States of "bullying" a friendly nation. A series of widespread anti-American demonstrations in Pakistan, including the stoning of the U.S. embassy, the burning of a USIS library, and mob attacks on the U.S. consulate in Lahore, provided stark testimony to the depth of anti-American sentiment in Pakistan. 83 "U.S. prestige" in Pakistan, Komer told Johnson, "is at an all-time low." 84
In so many respects, the Indo-Pakistani war of 1965 stands as a watershed in the history of American relations with the Indian subcontinent. The suspension of U.S. military deliveries, coming so swiftly on the heels of the pause in U.S. developmental support and the earlier postponements of the Ayub and Shastri visits, left Indian and Pakistani leaders alike angry, bitter, and disillusioned with the United States. Johnson and his chief foreign policy advisers recognized the obvious: that the war signaled the frustrating end to a policy cycle set in motion with the formation of the Pakistani-American alliance eleven years earlier. Pakistan's alignment with the United States combined with subsequent U.S. efforts to balance its South Asia priorities by pumping massive economic assistance into India during the late 1950s, and military aid as well after 1962, had been predicated on the belief that the United States could cultivate friendly, productive relations with both countries. Four presidential administrations had formulated policies for South Asia that sprouted from and were nourished by that same fallacious assumption. The United States would not have to choose between the two regional rivals, a generation of American policymakers had contended; it could instead help them resolve their differences and in the process transform both into positive Cold War assets. India, they had calculated, would eventually recognize, as Pakistan had earlier, that its national interests necessitated an openly pro-Western foreign policy. Both New Delhi and Karachi would appreciate that the real threats to their security emanated not from each other but from Moscow and Beijing.
Now, those illusions lay shattered along with the peace of the subcontinent. They also lay exposed to the penetrating glare of public scrutiny. With angry crowds shouting anti-American slogans in Pakistan and vituperative newspaper editorials blasting the United States in India, the failure of American policy to achieve its stated objectives was apparent to even the most casual observer of international affairs. An investment that totaled nearly $12 billion in combined development, commodity, and military assistance in the years since partition had produced amazingly little support or understanding for the United States in either country. A growing number of skeptical legislators, journalists, and ordinary citizens demanded that the Johnson administration justify the massive flow of dollars from the United States to South Asia. "American policy cannot be wholly exonerated from the folly," declared the Wall Street Journal in a typical editorial judgment. "In fact, we suggest this brawl is an occasion for a searching reexamination of military and economic policies in the whole area." 85
Keenly aware of the mounting public and congressional criticism of American commitments in India and Pakistan, Bundy and Komer recognized that "as a simple fact it will be a long time before military assistance can begin again to either party." 86 Indeed, the Indo-Pakistani conflict impelled senior policy planners to begin a fundamental rethinking of U.S. interests and policies in the subcontinent. The big questions that the president needed to address in the war's wake, according to Komer, included: "What can we really accomplish in South Asia? Are India and/or Pakistan worth the investment?" And "do we now have a major opportunity to re-sort our priorities in South Asia and get a lot more for our money?" 87
Johnson, infuriated with the image of self-defeating fratricidal strife presented by the 1965 war, was certain that a different approach to South Asia was long overdue. The conflict embarrassed LBJ politically at the very time that he was seeking public and congressional backing for the expanded U.S. military effort in Vietnam. The unwillingness of either India or Pakistan to stand by the United States in Vietnam or to offer more than the most tepid support for what Johnson invariably portrayed as a defensive response to communist aggression further soured him on the South Asian powers. Convinced that previous administrations had exaggerated the salience of India and Pakistan to broader Cold War security interests, Johnson directed that the United States adopt a lowered profile in the subcontinent and pursue more limited policy objectives there. 88
Johnson's backing for a Soviet mediation offer reveals just how radically the war had shaken long-held American policy assumptions about the region. Following the UN-sponsored cease-fire of September 1965, the Soviet Union offered to supply its good offices to both parties in order to help settle the conflict, proposing the central Asian city of Tashkent as a conference site. Washington, which had launched so many of its South Asia initiatives over the past decade because of a perceived need to contain Moscow, ironically welcomed the offer. Rusk later recalled that the administration encouraged the Soviet initiative because "we felt we had nothing to lose." 89 It was time to let the Soviets "break their lance" in the subcontinent, quipped Ball at a White House meeting. 90 By the end of 1965, Rusk, Ball, and other leading foreign policy advisers calculated that Soviet and American interests in South Asia now ran along parallel lines. Both superpowers, they reasoned, were most anxious to end the present hostilities and to promote long-term Indo-Pakistani amity; both, moreover, saw China as the most destabilizing force in the region and consequently ranked the containment of Chinese influence as an overriding policy objective. 91
Johnson soon conveyed to the Indians and the Pakistanis the fundamental shift that the war had induced in U.S. thinking about South Asia. The president met with Ayub in Washington in December 1965 and made clear to the Pakistani ruler that the alliance between the United States and Pakistan was now over. How soon the United States might resume economic aid and what kind of a relationship could be resurrected out of the ashes of the war with India were questions for the future. Plainly, it would bear little resemblance to the alliance of the past. A blunt Johnson told Ayub that the resolution of those issues would hinge to a great extent on Pakistan's willingness to curtail its ties to China. 92 Much to Johnson's delight, the Pakistani president pursued a statesmanlike approach at the Tashkent negotiations, allowing the Soviets to achieve a diplomatic breakthrough in January 1966 that brought the Indo-Pakistani war to a close. Two months later the president met with newly appointed Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi in Washington; Nehru's daughter had just replaced the late Shastri, whose untimely death occurred just one day after he signed the Tashkent agreement. As he had during his earlier sessions with Ayub, Johnson emphasized to the Indian leader that the old relationship between Washington and New Delhi was now over. It was time to begin anew. The visit occurred, LBJ boasted to Komer, "with the slate wiped clean of previous commitments and India coming to us asking for a new relationship on the terms we want." 93 Johnson used almost identical language in a subsequent letter to Ayub. The old slate had been wiped clean in South Asia, LBJ emphasized to the man he had once characterized as America's staunchest friend in Asia. 94
The United States now sought a dramatically lowered profile in the subcontinent. Johnson insisted upon more modest and more circumscribed relationships both with India and with Pakistan--relationships consistent with the diminished value of two nations that once again appeared tangential to core American security interests. The build-up of American forces in Vietnam at the very same time was in large part a function of commitments made earlier by Eisenhower and Kennedy. LBJ believed that those commitments had put America's global credibility on the line and thus made extrication from a land beset by a communist-led insurgency politically and diplomatically imprudent. South Asia, on the other hand, offered an opportunity for measured disengagement without jeopardizing any fundamental American political or diplomatic interests.
After more than fifteen years of intensive involvement and the transfer of staggering sums in developmental and military assistance, U.S. thinking about India and Pakistan ironically had come full circle. In the aftermath of the 1965 war, Johnson and his closest foreign policy advisers seemed to be echoing the assessment made by Truman, Marshall, Acheson, and others years earlier. Their predecessors had been correct, after all, they seemed to be saying: the fate of two impoverished nations situated on the periphery of world affairs held only marginal interest for a global power preoccupied with far more vital matters.
Note 1: Komer to Bundy, November 23, 1963, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 2: Johnson to Ayub, September 21, 1961, Ayub Khan 1 folder, Subject File, LBJ Archives, LBJL; Liz Carpenter OH Interview, May 15, 1969, LBJL; Richard S. "Cactus" Pryor OH Interview, September 10, 1968, LBJL. Back.
Note 3: Komer to Bundy, November 23, 1963, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 4: Memcon between Johnson and Bhutto, November 25, 1963, NSF, Pakistan, Memos, vol. I, LBJL. Back.
Note 5: Rusk to the Embassy in Pakistan, December 2, 1963, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; Komer to Johnson, September 9, 1965, ibid. Back.
Note 6: Ball, The Past Has Another Pattern, p. 314. Back.
Note 7: Quoted in Philip Geyelin, Lyndon B. Johnson and the World (New York: Praeger, 1966), p. 3. Back.
Note 8: Yaacov Vertzberger, The Enduring Entente: Sino-Pakistani Relations, 1960-1980 (Washington, D.C.: Center for Strategic and International Studies, 1983), pp. 7-22. Back.
Note 9: Chang, Friends and Enemies, pp. 228-52; James Fetzer, "Clinging to Containment: China Policy," in Thomas G. Paterson, ed., Kennedy's Quest for Victory: American Foreign Policy, 1961-1963 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989), pp. 178-97. Back.
Note 10: Gaddis, Strategies of Containment, pp. 210-11; Chang, Friends and Enemies, pp. 259-63. Back.
Note 11: Johnson to Ayub, December 9, 1963, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; Komer to Johnson, September 9, 1965, ibid. Back.
Note 12: Komer to Bundy, December 13, 1963, ibid.; Ball to Johnson, December 12, 1963, ibid. Back.
Note 13: McConaughy to DOS, December 9, 1963, NSF, India, Cables, vol. I, LBJL; McConaughy to DOS, January 9, 1964, NSF, Pakistan, Memos, vol. III, LBJL. Back.
Note 14: Bowles to DOS, December 19, 1963, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. I, LBJL. Back.
Note 15: Ball to the U.S. Embassy in France, December 14, 1963, NSF, India, Cables, vol. I, LBJL; Rusk to Johnson, December 11, 1963, Memos & Misc., vol. I, ibid. Back.
Note 16: Scope Papers for Taylor Visits to India and Pakistan, December 1963, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. I, LBJL; Bowles to DOS, December 19, 1963, ibid.; Bundy to Taylor, December 14, 1964, NSF, Gen. Taylor folder, International Meetings and Travel File, LBJL. Back.
Note 17: Memcon between Taylor and Ayub, December 20, 1963, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. I, LBJL; McConaughy to DOS, December 21, 1963, NSF, Gen. Taylor folder, International Meetings and Travel File, LBJL; Talking Points Paper for Taylor's Visit to India, November 27, 1963, prepared by DOD, ibid.; Maxwell Taylor, Swords and Ploughshares: A Memoir (New York: Norton, 1978), pp. 305-6. Back.
Note 18: Taylor to Johnson, December 23, 1963, NSF, Gen. Taylor folder, International Meetings and Travel File, LBJL. Back.
Note 20: Komer to Johnson, December 23, 1963, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; Rusk to Johnson, January 16, 1964, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. I, LBJL. Back.
Note 21: NSAM no. 279, February 8, 1964, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. See also Komer to Johnson, January 22, 1964, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. VI, LBJL; Komer to Johnson, January 30, 1964, NSF, Pakistan, Memos & Misc., vol. I, LBJL. Back.
Note 22: Ball to the Embassy in Pakistan, February 21, 1964, NSF, NSAM no. 279 folder, NSAM, LBJL. Back.
Note 23: Chang, Friends and Enemies, pp. 253-56; Geyelin, Johnson and the World, pp. 51-54; Choudhury, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, p. 183. Back.
Note 24: Bundy to Johnson, March 8, 1964, NSF, Name File, Komer, LBJL. Back.
Note 25: Talbot to Rusk, March 25, 1964, NSF, India, Cables, vol. I, LBJL; Komer to Johnson, March 27, 1964, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. II, LBJL; Ball to the Embassy in Pakistan, February 21, 1964, NSF, NSAM no. 279 folder, NSAM, LBJL. Back.
Note 26: Feldman, From Crisis to Crisis, pp. 34-67; Barnds, India, Pakistan, and the Great Powers, pp. 192-93. Back.
Note 27: Talbot to Rusk, March 25, 1964. Back.
Note 28: Bowles to DOS, February 20, 26, and 28, and March 12, 1964, NSF, India, Cables, vol. I, LBJL; Bowles to DOS, February 20, 1964, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. I, LBJL; Bowles to Galbraith, January 27, 1964, Galbraith folder, box 330, Bowles Papers. Back.
Note 29: NYT, April 22, 1964, p. 19. Back.
Note 30: Memcon between Johnson and Gandhi, April 27, 1964, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 31: Komer to Johnson, February 24, 1964, ibid.; Komer to Johnson, March 27, 1964, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. II, LBJL; Komer to Bundy, June 3, 1964, ibid. Back.
Note 32: Komer to Bundy, May 28, 1964, NSF, Name File, Komer, LBJL. Back.
Note 33: Geyelin, LBJ and the World, pp. 30, 271 (the quote is from p. 271); Komer to Bundy, June 3, 1964, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. II, LBJL; Komer to Bundy, November 27, 1964, NSF, India, Cables & Memos, vol. III, LBJL; Burton I. Kaufman, "Foreign Aid and the Balance-of-Payments Problem: Vietnam and Johnson's Foreign Economic Policy," in Robert A. Divine, ed., The Johnson Years. Vol. 2: Vietnam, the Environment, and Science (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 1987), pp. 80-81; Dean Rusk, As I Saw It (New York: Norton, 1990), p. 403. Back.
Note 34: Draft memo of understanding, May 27, 1964, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. II, LBJL; Komer to Bundy, September 9, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; Nehru to Johnson, ibid.; Bundy to Johnson, May 16, 1964, White House Central File, CO 121, LBJL. Back.
Note 35: Komer to Bundy, June 23, 1964, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 36: Ball to Johnson, July 5, 1964, ibid.; Rusk to McConaughy, July 29, 1964, ibid.; CIA Special Report, "Pakistan and the Free World Alliance," July 10, 1964, NSF, Pakistan, Cables, vol. I, LBJL. Back.
Note 37: NSC, "Narrative and Guide to Documents"; Bundy to Jack Valenti, White House aide, July 6, 1964, 230 Pakistan, CF, LBJP, LBJL. Back.
Note 38: Rusk to McConaughy, July 29, 1964, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; Rusk to Johnson, July 15, 1964, ibid.; Komer to Johnson, September 9, 1964, ibid.; "Narrative and Guide to Documents," ibid.; Rusk to the Embassy in Pakistan, July 15, 1964, NSF, Pakistan, Cables, vol. III, LBJL. Back.
Note 39: Komer to Bundy, July 24, 1964, Komer Name File, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 40: NSC, "Narrative and Guide to Documents"; CIA report, "Pakistan and the Free World Alliance." Back.
Note 42: Rusk to the Embassy in Pakistan, January 11, 1965, NSF, Pakistan, Cables, vol. III, LBJL. Back.
Note 43: DOS Scope Paper, April 1, 1965, NSF, Pakistan, Memos, vol. III, LBJL. Back.
Note 44: CIA report, "Pakistan and the Free World Alliance"; Barnds, India, Pakistan, and the Great Powers, pp. 190-92. Back.
Note 45: Hughes to Rusk, March 6, 1965, NSF, Pakistan, Memos, vol. IV, LBJL. Back.
Note 46: Ball to Rusk, April 6, 1965, NSF, India, Cables, vol. IV, LBJL; memo of telephone conversation between Ball and the British Ambassador, April 13, 1965, India folder, George Ball Papers, LBJL; Bundy to Johnson, April 22, 1965, NSF Aides File, Bundy Memos to the President, vol. 10, LBJL; CIA Special Report, "India and Pakistan Remain at an Impasse," April 2, 1965, India, NSF, Memos & Misc., vol. IV, LBJL. Back.
Note 47: Johnson to Ayub, April 14, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 48: DOS, "Scope Paper for Ayub and Shastri Visits to the United States," April 1, 1965, NSF, Pakistan, Memos, vol. III, LBJL. Back.
Note 49: Johnson to Shastri, April 15, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; Ball to Rusk, April 14, 1965, NSF, India, Cables, vol. IV, LBJL; CIA Special Report, "India's Revamped Defense Posture," November 20, 1964, NSF, India, Cables and Memos, vol. III, LBJL; Rusk to the Embassy in India, December 18, 1964, NSF, India, Cables, vol. IV, LBJL. Back.
Note 50: Komer to Bundy, April 21, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; Bowles to DOS, April 15, 1965, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. IV, LBJL; Bowles to DOS, April 16, 1965, NSF, India, Cables, vol. IV, LBJL; Chester Bowles, OH Interview, November 11, 1969, LBJL. On Bowles, his policy recommendations, and his diminishing credibility with Johnson and other senior officials, see especially Schaffer, New Dealer in the Cold War, chap. 16. Back.
Note 51: The Economist 215 (April 24, 1965):415. Back.
Note 52: Komer to Bundy, April 21, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; Komer to Johnson, April 16, 1965, ibid. Back.
Note 53: Benjamin H. Read, Executive Secretary, DOS, to Bundy, April 24, 1965, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. IV, LBJL. Back.
Note 54: Memcon between Rusk and B. K. Nehru, May 8, 1965, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. IV, LBJL; Rusk to Bowles, May 8, 1965, ibid.; Bowles to DOS, May 10, 1965, NSF, India, Cables, vol. IV, LBJL. Back.
Note 55: Read to Bundy, May 12, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; Hughes to the Acting Secretary of State, May 13, 1965, ibid. Back.
Note 56: Joseph N. Greene, Jr., Chargé in India, to DOS, May 25, 1965, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. IV, LBJL; Komer to Bundy, May 15, 1965, ibid.; Rusk to Johnson, May 19, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 57: Komer to Bundy, May 30, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 58: Bundy to LBJ, with LBJ handwritten note, June 8, 1965, NSF, Bundy Memos to the President, LBJL. Back.
Note 59: Bundy to Rusk, McNamara, and Bell, June 9, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; Komer to Donald Cook, June 3, 1965, ibid. Back.
Note 60: Komer to Johnson, June 28, 1965, ibid.; Rusk to the Embassy in Pakistan, June 30, 1965, NSF, Pakistan, Cables, vol. III, LBJL. Back.
Note 61: NSC, "Narrative and Guide to Documents," NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 62: Komer to Johnson, April 22, 1965, ibid.; Komer to Bundy, June 30, 1965, NSC History of the Indian Famine, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 63: Komer to Johnson, September 9, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 64: Komer to Johnson, July 6, 1965, ibid. Back.
Note 65: Hughes to Rusk, NSF, Pakistan, July 28, 1965, Memos, vol. III, LBJL; Rusk to the Embassy in Pakistan, July 8, 1965, NSF, Pakistan, Cables, vol. III, LBJL; CIA Intelligence Information Cable, July 29, 1965, ibid.; Burke, Pakistan's Foreign Policy, pp. 315-17. Back.
Note 66: Hughes to Rusk, July 28, 1965. Back.
Note 67: Hughes to Rusk, September 4, 1965, NSC HySA, LBJL. Back.
Note 68: Ibid.; NEA study, "The Indo-Pakistan War and Its Aftermath," enclosed in Eugene V. Rostow, Under Secretary of State for Political Affairs, to Walt Rostow, National Security Adviser, October 28, 1968, ibid.; DSB 53 (September 27, 1965):527; Shivaji Ganguly, U.S. Policy Toward South Asia (Boulder, Colo.: Westview, 1990), pp. 121-23; Sumit Ganguly, "Deterrence Failure Revisited: The Indo-Pakistan War of 1965," Journal of Strategic Studies 13 (December 1990):77-93. Back.
Note 69: Bowles to Johnson and Rusk, September 2, 1965, NSF, India, Cables, vol. V, LBJL. Back.
Note 70: Komer memo, September 4, 1965, NSF, Pakistan, Memos, vol. IV, LBJL. Back.
Note 71: NEA, "The Indo-Pakistan War and Its Aftermath"; Bowles to Johnson and Rusk, September 2, 1965, NSF, India, Cables, vol. V, LBJL; Rusk to the Embassies in Pakistan and India, NSF, Pakistan, Cables, vol. IV, LBJL; Rusk to Bowles, September 2, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 72: NEA, "The Indo-Pakistan War and Its Aftermath; McConaughy to DOS, September 6, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; CIA cable to the White House Situation Room, September 7, 1965, NSF, India, Cables, vol. V, LBJL. Back.
Note 73: Congressional Record, 87th Cong., 1st sess., September 8, 1965, 23059-60, 23168, 23186-89; ibid., September 7, 1965, 23021. Back.
Note 74: Komer to Bundy, September 7, 1965, NSF, Pakistan, Memos, vol. IV, LBJL. Back.
Note 75: Komer to Johnson, September 7, 1965, NSF, Name File, Komer, LBJL; Komer memoranda to Johnson, September 7, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 76: Rusk to the Embassies in India and Pakistan, September 8, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; memcon between Rusk and members of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, September 8, 1965, ibid. Back.
Note 77: Congressional Record, September 8, 1965, 89th Cong., 1st sess., 23186-89. Back.
Note 78: Rusk to Johnson, September 9, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 79: NSC, "Narrative and Guide to Documents," ibid.; NEA, "The India Pakistan War and Its Aftermath." Back.
Note 82: Ibid.; Rusk to McConaughy, September 19, 1965, NSF, India, cables, vol. V, LBJL; draft cable from Rusk to McConaughy, September 20, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL; India-Pakistan Working Group, "Situation Report," September 20, 1965, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. V, LBJL. Back.
Note 83: CIA Special memo, "The Indo-Pakistan War--A Preliminary Assessment," September 24, 1965, NSF, India, Memos & Misc., vol. V, LBJL; McConaughy to DOS, September 21, 1965, NSF, Pakistan, Cables, vol. V, LBJL. Back.
Note 84: Komer to Johnson, October 1, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 85: Wall Street Journal, September 8, 1965, p. 16. For a sampling of similar criticisms, see Miami Herald, September 9, 1965, p. 6; William S. White column, Washington Post, September 10, 1965, p. 24; Drew Pearson column, Miami Herald, September 11, 1965, p. 7; and Joseph Kraft column, Los Angeles Times, September 12, 1965, p. G-7. Back.
Note 86: Komer and Bundy to Johnson, ibid.; NYT, September 9, 1965, p. 1. Back.
Note 87: Komer memo, November 16, 1965, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 88: NEA, "The India-Pakistan War and Its Aftermath." Back.
Note 89: Dean Rusk OH Interview, January 2, 1970, LBJL. Back.
Note 90: Briefing Meeting on Ayub Visit, December 14, 1965, Office of the President File, Valenti Meeting Notes, LBJP, LBJL. Back.
Note 91: On the parallelism in U.S.-Soviet policy, see especially memo for the record by John W. Foster, NSC staff, January 9, 1969, NSC HySA, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 92: Memo of Johnson's meetings with Ayub, December 15, 1965, ibid.; Komer to Johnson, December 14, 1965, ibid. Back.
Note 93: Komer to Johnson, March 27, 1966, NSC History of India Famine, vol. II, NSF, LBJL. Back.
Note 94: Quoted in "Narrative and Guide to Documents."Selected Bibliography Back.
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