The Americans in Saigon were not quite sure what to call it. Some spoke of a purge, others of a coup or a semi-coup. Whatever it was, it threatened more than semi-disaster.
South Viet Nam's government is, of course, always in crisis. But for the fourth time in 131 months the crisis again became acute. Each time it had seemed as if the agony could not continue, as if there simply could be no further political twists-and each time there were more. The really alarming aspect last week was that with 22,000 men in Viet Nam and an aid investment totaling $3.5 billion, Washington seemed to have lost what little control of events it had retained. As a result, the U.S. found itself maneuvered into an incredible public clash with the very Vietnamese generals who were supposed to be leading the anti-Communist war. Lieut. General Nguyen Khanh, who only a few months ago was proclaimed by the U.S. to be the best hope of American policy in Viet Nam, was now bitterly attacking the U.S-and being bitterly attacked by the American ambassador.
Room for a Comeback. As usual, the latest crisis was a continuation of earlier intrigue. Forced to relinquish the premiership last October, Commander in Chief Khanh had never given up hope of a comeback. One of his problems was how to neutralize an old enemy, General Duong Van ("Big") Minh. Meanwhile, a group of younger second-echelon officers, inevitably known as the "Young Turks," were also spoiling for influence, and their targets were the five "Dalat generals," so nicknamed because of a period of arrest they had spent during 1964 in the mountain resort of Dalat. Released re cently, the five, according to the Young Turks, had been plotting with the rampant Buddhists. Fortnight ago the Turks demanded the retirement of all officers with 25 or more years of service-which would catch the Dalat group.
Since the same decree would also retire Big Minh, Khanh threw in with the Turks, joined them in organizing a 20-general "Council of the Armed Forces," with the stated purpose of improving discipline.
Always on Sunday. Civilian Chief of State Phan Khac Suu, 63, whose signature was required to legalize the retirement ruling, buck-passed the matter to the High National Council. A civilian board set up after the anti-Khanh riots last August ostensibly to supervise the transition to constitutional rule, the council had been ridiculed as "the Na tional Museum"; it was divided, ineffectual, and more or less pro-Buddhist. The council refused to go along with the military's request.
Subsequent events were almost a ritual. There was the usual nighttime powwow by the angered officers. Before dawn the next day, Sunday-it seems to be always on Sunday-there were ominous troop movements in Saigon. Reportedly the operation was directed by Brigadier General Nguyen Chanh Thi, the mustached, intense commander of the I Corps in the northern region, and Air Vice Marshal Nguyen Cao Ky, who affects harlequin glasses and a pearl-handled revolver. Squads of police sped through Saigon's darkened streets, arresting seven council members and a dozen-odd politicians and student leaders.