(See Cover)
In his eight months as Premier, South Viet Nam's Nguyen Cao Ky had best been known as an atavistic aviator-the flamboyant, Von Richthofen-like figure of a fighter pilot, replete with mustache and a wisp of lavender silk knotted at his throat. Followers of Viet Nam's recent raucous history could argue for hours over whether he was the sixth or ninth Premier in the last 18 months; few took a close look at Ky and his accomplishments. But under the spotlight of Lyndon Johnson's U.S.-Vietnamese summit in Honolulu, the highflying aviator finally came down to earth.
In public speech and private colloquy last week, Ky showed himself eloquent and honest, astute and independent, and above all a man who cared passionately about the defense and the welfare of his nation. Far from being a trigger-happy general, he demonstrated an awareness and concern for the task of nation-building that was the equal of the President's. It was, after all, Ky's Jan. 15 speech in Saigon, with its heavy emphasis on social justice, that had catalyzed Johnson's instinct for a nation-building summit in the first place. Or, as Ky candidly put it in Honolulu: "We were deluding ourselves with the idea that our weaknesses could not be remedied while fighting a war. It has taken a long time to realize that we will not completely drive out the aggressor until we make a start at eliminating political and social defects."
Strangling City. The solution for South Viet Nam's weaknesses is as easy to state as it is agonizingly difficult to accomplish. That simple truth, so often drowned out by the thunder of guns in Viet Nam, is everywhere evident. Over half of South Viet Nam's land and some 50% of its people are sequestered be yond Saigon's control-which means that it is the Viet Cong's furtive "infrastructure" of tax collectors, clerks and cops that rules these areas. All but 600 miles of the nation's railways have long since been rusting in disuse, no major highway is safe for any distance, the normal arterial flows of the nation-from rice to electricity-are interdicted or bleeding.
Even Saigon itself, once a graceful and gracious French city, is sadly strangling. In some parts of the city, garbage is rarely collected and mountains of sidewalk filth have accumulated. Pot-holed streets go vinrepaired, bus service is unpredictable, goods scarce, housing either unavailable or astronomical in price. Prostitutes, pimps and black-marketeers abound; prices have soared 58% in a year. "What's really changed about the city in the last few years is the level of law and civic discipline," says one Saigon official sadly. "It's almost a jungle now."
It could have been worse. But in the year since President Johnson promised to defend South Viet Nam with the full weight of U.S. arms, morale has improved immeasurably. Largely silenced were the quarrels between Catholics and Buddhists, the demonstrations of students, the simmering discontent in sections of the armed forces-all of which, at one time or another, and often in concert, had triggered antigovernment coups and "coup-ettes" in the past. For the first time since Diem, a government was given a breathing space-not only a chance to rule, but also to consider nation-building as well as war.